deeprebelsoulpsychic

Latest Posts by deeprebelsoulpsychic

Stolen Orbit

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: alien au, yandere jk, dark horror, enemies to lovers,

summary: you were meant for eradication with the rest of your planet—erased without a trace, just another speck in the galaxy's endless purge. but jeongguk saw you. fragile, insignificant... human. and something his kind had long forgotten stirred in him. Instead of erasing your existence, he took you, stole you from extinction and made you his.

now you live in a celestial cage, adored and possessed by something not quite capable of love, but desperate to keep you. he doesn't understand your fear, your resistance, but he craves your surrender all the more because of it. and if it takes breaking you to make you his completely... he will.

warnings: slow burn, mass extermination, alien jungkook forced captivity/proximity, psychological manipulation, stockholm syndrome, dubcon, smut, ritualistic copulation

word count: 5,857

The Beginning

The sky split open the night they came. You didn’t see it at first, no one did.

You brushed your teeth that night. Standing in your tiny bathroom beneath flickering fluorescent lights, humming faintly to music you can’t remember anymore. A song that cut out mid chorus when everything else did.

You paused, frowned, the mirror vibrated faintly, a shiver running across your reflection. Confused, you flicked the light switch. Nothing.

Reach for your phone. Dead.

Outside, the city dimmed as though someone had thrown a heavy blanket over the world. Buildings blinked out, window by window. Cars stalled silently in the streets.

Then came the sirens. Low and unearthly, vibrating deep in your chest rather than ringing in your ears.

You pressed your palms to the vanity, trying to pinpoint the source.

No alarms.

No helicopters.

No dogs barking or people yelling in the distance.

Just… stillness.

Until the sky broke.

You saw it from your window, face pale in the glass as blackness carved itself across the heavens like a wound tearing through flesh.

It didn’t glow or rage, it hummed.

And through that terrible void came beams of sterile white light.

You watched—paralyzed—as they swept through the streets, swallowing people whole. No fire, no blood, they simply ceased.

Your neighbor clutching her husband on the balcony. The delivery boy halfway up the stairs. A child pedaling frantically on his bicycle.

Gone.

Your mouth moved, but no sound came out. By the time your legs remembered how to function, chaos had bloomed outside.

Screams.

Desperate, useless prayers. People running without knowing where safety even existed.

It didn’t matter.

Your chest crushed inward as panic overtook you. You grabbed your phone, screaming into dead silence, dialing numbers that wouldn’t connect.

Your father’s voicemail.

Your sister’s disconnected line.

The beams moved without emotion, erasing everything they touched as easily as wiping chalk from a board. You don’t remember deciding to run. You don’t remember leaving your apartment. You only remember the maintenance tunnels.

You shoved yourself beneath concrete and metal, nails splitting and bleeding as you slammed the hatch shut above you.

And there you stayed.

For minutes.

Hours.

Days.

Time broke.

The silence that followed was not peaceful.

It was dead.

::::::::::::

When you woke, it was worse. Not because you survived. Not even because the world was gone.

But because you weren’t there anymore.

Your eyes opened to sterility. Smooth, seamless walls of faintly glowing white, like pearl carved from bone. No corners or seams. Just endless smoothness in every direction, as though the room itself were grown rather than built.

There were no windows.

No doors.

Only a faint humming, familiar and yet not. Not the gentle whir of an AC or the buzz of old light bulbs. This was deeper, vibrating at a frequency that scraped against the base of your skull. It sounded like something alive.

You sat up too fast, your breath catching painfully in your throat.

The bed beneath you was impossibly soft, molding to your shape like memory foam, but it didn’t feel right. It smelled faintly of something sweet and sterile, like a flower that had never known dirt.

You clutched the sheets tighter to your chest, your head spinning.

“Hello?” you rasped. No answer, just the never ending hum.

You tried again.

“HELLO?”

Your voice echoed strangely, rebounding without substance, as though the room itself were swallowing the sound.

A prickling sensation raced down your spine as you scrambled to your feet. Your legs were weak and shaky, like you hadn’t used them in days. You stumbled toward the nearest wall and pressed your palms flat against it.

It was warm.

Not cold like metal. Not smooth like glass.

Warm, as though the structure around you was some kind of living skin.

You recoiled instinctively.

“What the fuck,” you whispered.

Your chest heaved as you tried to remember.

Where were you?

Where was your family?

Had you died?

The last thing you remembered was hiding. Listening to the world end. And then— nothing. Your stomach twisted violently. Panic set in like lead poisoning, slow but lethal. You began slamming your fists against the wall.

“LET ME OUT!”

“WHERE AM I?!”

Nothing. No doors appeared, no voices responded. But the hum grew louder, though, it didn’t feel or sound angry. Not mechanical.

It sounded oddly interested.

You froze, pressing your back against the bed as a low chime resonated throughout the space. The wall directly across from you rippled, like the surface of a pond disturbed by a stone, and opened.

A doorway formed from nothing, and something stepped through.

At first, you thought he was wrong. Everything about him felt off in ways your mind couldn’t fully process.

Tall—towering—with limbs too graceful and too fluid to be comforting.

Skin pale and luminous, glowing softly from within, threaded with faint iridescence that shifted as he moved. Hair dark and weightless, littered with braids adorned with glimmering otherworldly metals, drifting as though underwater. Framing features too symmetrical, too perfect.

And his eyes.

They were unsettling, solid black at first glance.

But as he drew closer, they shifted—illuminated galaxies of silver, violet, and deep cosmic blues, swirling softly in patterns that hurt to stare at for too long.

You stumbled backward, your legs colliding with the bed as your pulse thundered.

He did not flinch, but instead stepped closer.

Graceful. Effortless.

You couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. Every primitive instinct screamed at you to run, but your body betrayed you. He tilted his head as he regarded you.

Not cruelly, not kindly. Curiously.

His voice slid across your mind rather than your ears.

“You are… fragile.”

You flinched, shaking your head as if a bug was caught in your hair. The words felt invasive, sliding into your consciousness without permission.

He stepped closer.

“I am Jeongguk.”

The name thrums with alien cadence, yet tastes almost familiar in your mind. His glowing eyes flicker faintly, as if pleased by your terror.

“You reside aboard Virexum,” he continues calmly. “This vessel collects and preserves what remains after eradication.”

“Eradication?” you whisper, voice hollow.

“Earth was terminated.”

A pause, as if considering how much you can process. “Your species had reached decay. Pollution. War. Rot. The Kaereth do not preserve weakness. We cleanse.”

The words hit harder than any weapon. You shake your head violently, sobbing openly now.

Your father, your sister. They’re…gone?

“No. No, you can’t— you didn’t—”

“It was mercy.”

His voice softens slightly, but not kindly. “Existence without evolution is entropy. The Kaereth do not allow suffering. We end it.”

You can’t breathe.

You drop to your knees, pressing your palms to your face as the horror swells and breaks inside you.

But he does not.

Tears flooded your vision, hot and blinding as your sobs shattered the sterile silence, ugly and helpless.

He watches you the way one might watch a dying star—quietly admiring, deeply fascinated.

When you finally stilled, he crouched before you, his claws retracting as he reached out. You recoiled instinctively, but he only touched your hair, brushing it back from your damp face with a tenderness that felt foreign.

“I did not erase you,” he murmurs.

You flinch, but his hand cradles your face delicately, tipping it up so you have no choice but to meet his gaze.

“You glowed,” he says, softer now. Almost enthralled.

“Amidst destruction, you clung to life. You burned brighter than the dying world around you. You will not suffer,” he said quietly. “You are mine now. You will be kept.”

Kept.

The word echoed as he stood again, gesturing to the room around you. “This is yours. Safe. Nourishing. You will adjust.”

You choked on disbelief.

“Why me?”

He paused.

And for the first time since he arrived, his expression shifted. His eyes darkened. His lips parted just slightly, almost pious.

“Because,” he murmured, as though speaking to himself, “you glowed brightest before death.”

With that, he turned and left, the wall sealing behind him in silence.

Leaving you alone with the hum, and the terrible, hollow truth that you were the last of your kind. And you were his now.

Whatever that meant.

Whatever that would become.

::::::::::::

You don’t remember sleeping, but when your eyes open again, raw and heavy from hours of silent sobbing, the room is dimmer. The walls, once glowing faintly like a moonlit sea, have softened to a deep, low shimmer, as though mimicking the concept of nighttime.

You’re still here.

Still locked in this dreamless nightmare of seamless walls and soundless air.

Still wearing the thin, pale shift you woke up in, neither warm nor cold, but irritating in its neutrality.

Still alone.

Except… you aren’t.

You feel him before you see him. The hum of the room changes. Deepens, sharpens as though the ship itself reacts to his presence.

You sit up slowly, wiping your face, throat dry from hours of ragged breathing.

When the wall ripples open again, it’s almost gentle. Less like a command, and more like the way curtains are drawn back to allow moonlight in.

And there he stands.

Jeongguk.

Alien. Impossibly elegant.

Unfathomably tall, framed in the soft glow as though carved from the bones of dying stars.

You freeze when his eyes meet yours, not because they’re cruel. But because they are intent.

Hungry.

Unblinking.

“You are awake.”

His voice slides across your mind again, as smooth as silk and as cold as space.

You swallow tightly, sitting rigid on the edge of the bed. Your legs are weak, but you fight to keep your spine straight.

“Please,” you whisper hoarsely, the word tasting hollow in your mouth. “Please just tell me what you want from me.”

He pauses.

“I have told you,” he says, moving forward, soundless as shadow. “You are mine. You will be kept. That is what I want.”

His words make your stomach twist violently. You push up from the bed, backing away until your shoulder blades press into the wall behind you.

“You can’t just— keep me!”

Your voice cracks, teetering between hysteria and disbelief.

“I’m not some… some thing you can collect!”

He stops mid step, considering.

His expression doesn’t change and yet, you can feel the weight of his scrutiny press down on you.

“Incorrect,” he says softly, as though correcting a child. “You are precious. Not a ‘thing’. Not to me.”

You open your mouth to argue, to scream, but your breath catches as something changes.

The bioluminescent lines across his body shift subtly. They pulse gently.

You don’t know why, but the sight makes your heart stutter.

Is that emotion?

Before you can question it, he raises one hand.

A low chime echoes through the room, and from the far wall, a smooth panel unfolds. It reveals a strange, device that emits fragrant steam.

Your stomach clenches painfully as your senses recognize what it is before your mind does.

Food.

Or, at least, something meant to replicate it. Soft, pale orbs float in an iridescent broth, giving off a smell not unlike fresh bread and honey.

It should be comforting.

But in this place, nothing feels comforting.

“You have not consumed nourishment in sixteen of your planet’s hours,” Jeongguk says calmly, gesturing toward the offering.

“Your body weakens. This is inefficient.”

You hesitate, eyeing the bowl warily.

“I’m not hungry,” you lie.

His head tilts, faintly reptilian in the gesture, and for the first time, a flicker of something sharper edges into his tone.

“You will eat.”

The words are not barked.

Not threatening.

But absolute.

You stare back at him, shaking slightly.

And when you make no move to comply, he steps forward and takes the bowl himself, walking closer until he is far too near. He crouches, folding gracefully in front of you like a predator settling in for the kill.

But instead of violence, he offers you the bowl directly.

Holding it out, waiting patiently.

“Eat,” he murmurs.

His eyes glow faintly as they fix on your face.

“For me.”

Your lips part helplessly. Something in the way he says it. Quiet, almost intimately, sends your skin crawling and burning at once.

You hate him.

You hate him.

You hate him.

And yet…

Your body obeys. Your fingers tremble as you accept the bowl, lifting one of the pale orbs to your lips.

It tastes… nothing like food.

But it dissolves softly on your tongue, leaving behind warmth that creeps slowly down your throat.

Not unpleasant, not pleasurable. Just… filling.

Sustaining.

You eat in silence, aware of his unwavering gaze as you do. When the bowl empties, he takes it back carefully, setting it aside.

“Better,” he says quietly.

You can’t meet his eyes.

The tears come again without permission, sliding hot and heavy down your face. You curl in on yourself, trying to muffle the broken sounds that escape your throat.

And then… a touch.

Featherlight at first, fingers ghosting against your temple, sliding into your hair.

You tense, but he does not press.

“You fear me.” His words are not questioning. “Good. It is natural. You are fragile.”

Your breath hitches painfully.

His hand slips lower, knuckles grazing your cheek with maddening delicacy.

“But fear will fade,” he continues softly. “In time, you will see. I am not cruel. I am constant. You will not be harmed. You will be… cherished.”

You turn your head away sharply and his fingers slip free, but you feel the weight of his focus intensify.

“You misunderstand your position,” he murmurs. “Earth is gone. You are alone in a universe that has no place for you. No one will come for you. No one can.”

You clench your fists tightly in your lap, the truth cutting deeper than his touch ever could.

“Why me?” you ask, voice breaking. “Why not let me die with the rest?”

He leans in slightly, his presence invading your every sense.

“Because when others knelt and wept… you raged,” he whispers. “You burned. You clung to life with ferocity. That is rare.”

His eyes soften, if such a thing is possible for something so alien.

“I collect what should not exist.” A faint smile, too serene, too knowing. “You are an anomaly. You are mine.”

You bite down hard on your lower lip, forcing back another sob.

“This isn’t cherishing,” you whisper bitterly.

“This is prison.”

He doesn’t flinch. Instead, he rises slowly, towering over you once more. His hands fold neatly behind his back. The perfect image of composed, regal authority.

“No,” he agrees softly. “This is preservation.”

He steps back toward the door, but his voice reaches you again as it ripples open to accept him.

“Rest. I will return when you are calmer.”

A pause.

“And eventually… you will thank me.”

Then he is gone.

And you’re eft in the silence once more—but not alone.

Not really.

Because his scent still lingers. His voice still hums faintly in your mind. And worse, you realize part of you is already listening for his return.

::::::::::::

You don’t see him again for three cycles. You don’t know how you know this. There’s no sun here, no night and day, no ticking clock on sterile walls—but your body remembers.

It remembers the ache of hunger.

The slow unraveling of sanity when left in isolation. The bone deep dread that blooms in the absence of any other voice but your own.

For seventy two hours, maybe more, maybe less, you are alone.

The ship hums softly at all hours, the walls glowing faintly like a slumbering beast. Your room, if you can even call it that, remains locked.

No doors.

No windows.

Just blank, seamless walls and a bed that conforms to your every restless shift.

Food appears twice, delivered silently through a hidden panel in the wall, but you ignore it. You sit curled on the bed, stomach clenching painfully, but you refuse to give in.

Not again, not after last time.

He’d fed you like a child.

Watched you with something sickly tender in his eyes while you cried and ate and fell apart in front of him.

No.

You will not make this easy for him. Your anger is all you have left. The only shield between you and the quiet, desperate terror that creeps in when you allow yourself to feel anything else.

So you don’t eat.

You don’t sleep.

You don’t talk to the empty room, no matter how loud the silence becomes.

You wait.

Because you know he’ll come back, of course he will.

Men like him, things like him, always come back.

And when he does, you are ready.

—

He appears on the fourth cycle.

Not like before, there’s no grand entrance. No rippling doors or ominous hums.

You wake to find him already there, standing at the foot of the bed like a phantom who has always belonged in your nightmares. He watches you in silence, arms folded behind his back, eyes glowing softly in the low light.

You glare at him, lips cracked from dehydration.

He says nothing.

“Fuck you.”

Your voice scrapes like gravel against your raw throat, but it feels good to say.

Good to bite, even if your teeth barely graze.

His head tilts slightly, that same alien gesture that makes your stomach turn.

“You are weakening,” he observes softly, almost clinically. “Your refusal to consume nourishment endangers your cellular structure. This is illogical.”

You laugh, sharp and brittle.

“Good. Let me die, then.”

For the first time, his expression shifts, not dramatically, but his brows knit slightly, his mouth drawing in the faintest sliver.

He doesn’t like that.

“Negative,” he says quietly, stepping closer. “I will not allow termination.”

You push yourself up on shaking arms, baring your teeth in something that feels more animal than human.

“I don’t belong to you. You can’t keep me like this. Feeding me, locking me in this—this cage! I’ll starve before I let you win.”

His eyes narrow faintly, glowing brighter. “You misunderstand,” he murmurs, his voice lowering dangerously.

“This is not a contest,” he moves closer, slow, deliberate steps that make your pulse spike and your limbs tremble. “This is inevitability.”

You scramble off the bed, stumbling backward until your spine hits the wall. His presence consumes the room, filling every atom of available space, as though the ship itself responds to his shifting mood.

He stands before you now, towering and still.

“You may resist,” he allows softly. “You may cry, scream, refuse… for a time.”

His hand rises, not threatening, but steady as his fingers gently, maddeningly, brush your jaw. The touch sends a bolt of revulsion and something more complicated spiraling through you.

“But you will acclimate.”

His voice vibrates softly in your bones, dangerous in its certainty.

You slap his hand away, the sound cracking through the air like gunfire.

For a moment, nothing happens.

He simply stares at you, the tips of his fingers still poised where they had been, motionless, as though stunned.

And then…he withdraws, silently. Without anger or words. Simply steps back, gaze unreadable, and turns for the door.

Panic flashes hot and instant through your chest. “No—” you gasp, confused by your own terror at his sudden departure.

He stops just before the wall seals behind him. For the first time, his voice emerges aloud, not through your mind, but spoken.

Low.

Flat.

Cold.

“You have chosen isolation.”

Then he’s gone, and so is everything else.

The hum of the ship fades, the lights dim to near darkness. The temperature drops, not enough to freeze, but enough to chill your skin, to make your breath puff faintly in the air.

The bed retracts into the wall.

The food panel vanishes.

You are left standing in nothing.

Cold.

Alone.

—

For hours—maybe days—you are abandoned to the hollow, oppressive silence.

Your tears dry.

Your voice fades from hoarseness to nothing. Your legs give out, and you curl on the hard floor, clutching yourself tightly as sleep eludes you in the endless dark.

You hate him.

You hate him.

You hate him.

But when the wall finally ripples open again, soft, warm light spilling through and his tall, silent figure appears in the doorway once more, you sob.

Relief.

Humiliation.

Rage.

You don’t understand which emotion is which anymore.

He crosses the threshold slowly, eyes glowing faintly in gentle shades of blue and pink. Soft, careful, like a predator soothing prey after the kill.

Without speaking, he kneels before you, gathering your shaking body into his arms. You don’t fight him this time.

You can’t.

You’re too cold.

Too broken.

His hand strokes your hair as he murmurs something low in his language, soft syllables that sound like lullabies from a galaxy you will never see.

“I will not harm you,” he whispers, pressing his lips against your temple. “Do not make me hurt you through absence again; I ache.”

Your fingers clutch his robe weakly, sobs muffled against his chest.

“I hate you,” you whisper, but it’s empty.

Weak.

He hums softly.

“I know.”

He pulls you closer, cradling you as though you are delicate and rare, because to him, you are.

“And yet you need me.”

You can’t argue.

Not right now.

Not when his warmth is the only thing that feels real in this endless void of stars and silence.

::::::::::::

You don’t sleep, even when your body begs you to.

Sleep would mean trusting the silence, surrendering.

So you lay awake on the strange, pliant surface that the ship has provided. Not quite a bed, but softer than the floor that left your bones aching and cold during your punishment.

You are still recovering from that.

The ache of isolation.

The terror of being truly, utterly alone.

But more than that… you are recovering from the humiliation.

Because when he returned, when he found you curled and trembling, teeth chattering and face raw from tears, you clung to him.

You didn’t mean to.

Your body simply reacted, desperate and starved for anything warm and familiar.

Your fingers twisted into the dark folds of his robes, your face pressed into the cool planes of his chest, and you wept like a creature broken open.

And Jeongguk did nothing but hold you.

No words.

No threats.

No cruel satisfaction.

Just stillness.

Just presence.

His hands stroked your back, slow and repetitive, the way you imagine one might soothe a terrified animal.

His head bent low, his breath ghosting against your temple as he whispered words in a language your mind couldn’t translate, soft and melodic, making you feel drunk with the weight of them.

Even now, hours later, his scent still lingers on your skin.

Warm and metallic.

Alien and oddly sweet.

Like lightning woven into silk.

You hate that you find comfort in it now. You hate yourself more than you hate him, but the truth is suffocating in its simplicity.

You needed him.

And he knew it.

—

The door ripples again, seamlessly and without warning. You stiffen instinctively, heart leaping to your throat.

But when Jeongguk steps through, he does not bring the same oppressive energy he had before.

There is no towering, silent menace, or sharp glint of irritation or frustration in his starlit eyes.

Instead…he looks calm, serene, even.

His robes have changed. Still dark, but lighter now. Softer. He wears no armor, or sharp adornments. His hair hangs loose, gleaming faintly in the ship’s low bioluminescence.

He looks… domestic.

If such a word could ever apply to him.

The ship itself seems to respond, the walls brightening subtly, soft, ambient pulses that make the air feel warmer somehow.

More intimate.

Less clinical.

It unnerves you more than his previous coldness.

“Good,” he says quietly, his voice sliding into your consciousness with practiced ease. “You remain.”

You glare at him, but your body betrays you again, relaxing minutely at the familiar cadence of his presence.

“I didn’t exactly have a choice, did I?” you mutter bitterly.

Jeongguk tilts his head slightly, considering.

“No,” he agrees softly. “But you remained nonetheless.”

The phrasing makes something twist painfully low in your stomach. Before you can respond, he approaches, slow, careful steps as though approaching something fragile.

Which, in his eyes, you suppose you are.

He lowers himself gracefully beside you on the bed like surface, close enough that you feel the subtle hum of his energy brushing against your skin.

“I have observed,” he begins, tone thoughtful. “Prolonged isolation causes distress beyond simple physical discomfort in your species.”

You scoff, wrapping your arms around your knees protectively.

“Yeah. That’s called being human.”

He hums softly, as though filing the information away like a precious resource.

“I have no desire to harm you, little star,” he murmurs, and his hand lifts, pausing in the air between you, as if seeking silent permission.

You don’t give it.

But you don’t pull away when his fingers brush lightly across your hair, tucking it back from your face.

His touch is careful.

Maddening.

“I desire only your peace.”

You choke on a bitter laugh.

“Peace? You abducted me, destroyed my planet, locked me in this ship and act like that’s kindness.”

His expression softens, strangely fond despite your venom.

“You misunderstand,” he says gently.

“I did not destroy your planet. I spared you from its fate.”

His fingers trail down, brushing against the curve of your cheek, the line of your jaw, and you shiver despite yourself.

“You were meant to end,” he continues softly, voice almost hypnotic. “But you burned. You raged. You survived.”

His thumb strokes softly against your lower lip, a touch so tender you forget, briefly, how much you despise him.

“You are rare,” he murmurs. “And rare things are not discarded. They are treasured.”

The words settle in your chest like poison wrapped in silk. You should recoil, should slap his hand away, curse him until your throat gives out.

But instead…you close your eyes.

Just for a moment.

Just long enough to feel the soft press of his palm against your cheek, anchoring you in this strange, terrible reality.

He takes your silence as permission.

Of course he does.

“Good,” he breathes, satisfaction humming softly in his voice. “You are learning.”

You force your eyes open, glaring weakly at him.

“Learning what?”

His lips curl faintly, not quite a smile, but something disturbingly close.

“To accept.”

You hate him.

You hate him.

But when he shifts closer, pressing his body flush to yours, wrapping an arm carefully around your shoulders, you don’t pull away.

You are cold.

You are tired.

You are alone.

And he is warm.

He is steady.

He is here.

You rest your head against his shoulder before you can think better of it, disgust warring with relief in your chest.

Jungkook says nothing, but the ship hums softly around you, glowing faintly in shades of rose and gold. Contentment radiating from every surface.

You don’t realize how tightly you’ve curled against him until his mouth brushes the crown of your head.

“You will see soon,” he murmurs, words sinking deep into your bones. “I am not your enemy. I am your only constant.”

You fall asleep before you can argue. And for the first time since Earth fell, you sleep through the cycle without waking to scream.

::::::::::::

You wake to warmth.

Not the clinical, neutral temperature of the ship. That engineered comfort that feels more like a lack of discomfort than real heat but true warmth.

Soft.

Heavy.

Alive.

For a moment, your mind refuses to grasp why.

You are tucked beneath something impossibly smooth and weighty , fabric like liquid silk draped over your body, cocooning you in decadent softness.

And behind you, against the curve of your spine, something solid.

Firm.

Breathing.

A heartbeat thrums, steady and deep, so close it vibrates through your back and into your bones.

Not the ship.

Him.

Jeongguk.

You go rigid before you can think. Your hands clench the sheets, alien and faintly iridescent m, as you strain to control your breathing.

You are being held, no, you are being kept.

His arm is heavy across your waist, claws retracted but still unsettling, his fingers resting just beneath your ribcage with terrifying intimacy. His face is pressed lightly to the crown of your head, long hair brushing against your temple like ghost silk.

For several agonizing seconds, you debate your options.

Pull away.

Wake him.

Escape—if that’s even possible anymore.

But as your heart hammers and your stomach twists, you realize something worse.

You don’t want to move.

Because for the first time in what feels like forever, you are not cold, you are not alone, or terrified of what silence might bring.

You are simply… held.

And that, somehow, feels more dangerous than anything he’s done so far.

He stirs before you can make a decision.

The shift is subtle, the faint tightening of his grip, the softening of his breath, the way the ship’s hum lifts faintly, mirroring the change in atmosphere.

Then his voice slides into your mind, quieter than usual.

Thicker.

“You are awake.”

You flinch slightly, but he does not move away. Instead, he exhales slowly, the sound almost… content.

“You slept well,” he murmurs aloud this time, his voice low and textured, as though speaking in words costs him more effort than using your mind.

“You did not cry.”

Shame burns through you instantly. You twist beneath his arm, trying to put space between your bodies, but his hold tightens slightly.

“No,” he says softly, head dipping lower so that his breath brushes the shell of your ear. “Stay.”

Your heart races painfully.

“Why?” you whisper, hating the smallness in your voice.

His answer is simple.

“Because you do not truly wish to leave.”

You freeze.

He doesn’t say it cruelly.

He doesn’t taunt or mock.

He speaks it as though it is a fact he has long since accepted and is merely waiting for you to do the same.

Before you can respond, he shifts, drawing back just enough to allow you to turn and face him. The sight steals the words from your throat.

Up close, he is devastating.

More than alien.

More than beautiful.

His features are carved from something you do not have words for, too elegant to be called soft, too precise to be human. His silver violet eyes glow faintly in the dimness, framed by dark lashes that cast delicate shadows across high cheekbones.

But it is the way he looks at you that truly leaves you breathless.

Not with desire.

Not with hunger.

With… possession. As though you are the first and only star in his universe.

You turn your face away, pulse hammering.

“Stop looking at me like that.”

He does not obey.

“Like what?”

“Like I’m—”

You falter, teeth sinking into your lower lip.

“Yours,” you finish bitterly.

His hand moves, fingers brushing your jaw, guiding you gently to meet his gaze again.

“You are mine,” he murmurs softly, as though stating something as mundane as the time of day. “You remain only because I desire it. You live because I allow it. You breathe because I have given you this sanctuary.”

The words are cruel in logic, yet his voice is gentle.

You tremble beneath the weight of them, but he only continues, thumb stroking softly against your cheekbone.

“But you do not need to fear that.” He leans closer, voice dropping lower, coaxing you like one would soothe a frightened animal.

“You do not need to fight so hard. You are cared for. Sheltered. Treasured.”

You want to scream. Want to tell him how wrong he is, how suffocating this is.

But your body remembers the days alone in the dark.

The cold.

The ache.

The crushing silence that left you frantic and desperate for any presence at all. And your body, traitorous and desperate, does not want to return to that.

So instead, you say nothing.

You simply let him hold you.

Let his touch stroke soothing patterns against your spine.

Let your eyes slip closed, not because you want him, but because for now… he feels safe.

—

The days that follow blur together.

Jeongguk becomes a near constant presence, no longer leaving for long stretches. He is always near. Quietly watching, quietly touching, quietly existing in every corner of your small world.

Meals are no longer delivered in silence.

Now, he brings them himself, sitting beside you as you eat, observing your reactions with soft fascination, as though memorizing every flicker of expression.

He asks questions, though never demands answers.

“Why do you frown when eating this?”

“Does this flavor please you more?”

“Do you enjoy these colors?”

It’s strange. Stranger still when you find yourself answering.

Not out of obligation or out of fear. But because the emptiness left by silence is worse.

You talk quietly, giving short answers at first, but over time, they grow longer. You explain foods you miss. You describe music, books, seasons. You speak of snow and rain and laughter, and though he listens with alien detachment, he seems oddly enchanted by your words.

“You will show me,” he says one cycle, after you describe autumn leaves falling in lazy spirals.

You blink at him in confusion.

“Earth is gone.”

His head tilts.

“Virexum can make what you desire.”

You do not know whether to be horrified or grateful. But when the next cycle arrives, your room transforms.The walls ripple and shift until soft amber light filters through projected trees.

Illusions of wind rustle leaves that glow faintly gold and crimson.

You laugh, startled and disbelieving.

And Jeongguk…

He smiles.

Not wide.

Not human.

But soft, and faintly victorious.

As though every small inch you offer him, every smile, every word, every sigh, is another chain wound tightly around your wrists.

—

It happens one night as you sit side by side on the bed, eating quietly. Your hands brush when reaching for the same dish and you both freeze.

The contact is brief.

Innocent.

But it lingers. His fingers slide softly over yours, slow and intentional as though mapping the shape of them.

You don’t pull away, pulse racing, your cheeks flush, but still, you let it happen.

Something shifts in his gaze.

It’s not hunger, not cruelty…longing.

The moment stretches and the ship grows impossibly quiet, as though the walls themselves are holding their breath. You’re the one who breaks it, pulling your hand away with a nervous laugh that sounds too loud in the stillness.

Jeongguk says nothing.

But his eyes follow you all the same, glowing softly in the dim amber light.

Watching.

Always watching.

—

That night, as you lay down and let him pull you close, his arms wrapping securely around your body as though sealing you in, you don’t resist.

You let him tuck your head beneath his chin, your hands curl lightly against his chest.

And when he whispers against your hair, voice low and factual, “you are becoming mine.”

You don’t argue.

Because deep down, beneath the remnants of your rage and sorrow, beneath the tangled mess of shame and longing—

You know he is right.

two | masterlist

Table Four

pairing: taehyung x reader

genre: college au, strangers to lovers, angsty fluff

summary: when he sees you at a campus café on a random tuesday, he knows he has to know you. but you’ve sworn off love after a brutal breakup and want nothing more than to focus on yourself. what starts with a croissant and a crooked smile slowly turns into study sessions, spontaneous adventures, and a love story neither of you saw coming.

warnings: college setting, soft fluff ☺️💕, mutual pining, slow burn, a tiny sprinkle of angst, mentions of academic stress, an emotionally devastating finals week, and EXCESSIVE flirting by one very persistent taehyung.

a message from our sponsors 💁🏽‍♀️: yes, the cover picture is huge af & in your face because…i mean he’s MY MAN, why wouldn’t i want to look at him all big and up close? 🤨💟

word count: 7,478

Taehyung wasn’t even supposed to be there.

He had an econ lecture in ten minutes on the other side of campus, a half finished paper on his laptop, and a group chat that was slowly imploding over whose turn it was to make the slideshow.

But all of that faded into static the moment he got a craving for a croissant. Not just any croissant—one from Bean There, the cozy little café tucked between the music hall and the campus bookstore. The one with honey butter, flaky layers, and, according to his friend Jimin, the best ratio of pastry-to-price-to-aesthetic.

He slipped through the front door, brushing damp curls from his forehead as the warm air hit him. It smelled like cinnamon and espresso, and he let the scent wrap around him as he approached the counter.

That’s when he saw you.

Table Four.

You were hunched over a psych textbook the size of a baby elephant, one earbud in, matcha latte sweating quietly beside your planner. A purple pen danced between your fingers. The other hand tugged at the sleeve of your hoodie every few seconds like your body needed something to do while your brain focused on neurotransmitters or Freud or whatever madness you were dealing with.

You didn’t notice him. Not at first. But Taehyung noticed you.

He felt it in his chest—the kind of jolt that said wait. You had a look about you—sharp but tired, soft in a way that people probably didn’t give you enough credit for. Like someone who carried their own weight and still offered to help others with theirs.

He stared a second too long, then caught himself and turned toward the counter.

“Can I get two croissants?” he asked, and then, almost without thinking, “And… those mini wildflower bouquets. That one with the yellow ribbon.”

The barista looked amused but didn’t question it.

Maybe they were used to college boys doing dumb things for pretty girls. Taehyung took his haul—two pastries and the little bouquet that looked slightly wilted but still sweet—and made his way over to your table like a man with a mission.

He cleared his throat gently.

You looked up slowly, pulling out your earbud, blinking like you were trying to place him in a memory you didn’t have.

“I’m Taehyung. Taehyung Kim,” he said, flashing his best smile.

You blinked again. “Okay?”

“These are for you.”

You looked down. At the croissant. The flowers. Back up. “Why?”

“I don’t know yet,” he said honestly, shifting his weight. “But I think if I give them to you, you might tell me your name.”

You stared at him like he was an essay prompt you weren’t prepared for.

Across the room, two girls at a corner table were watching and whispering, clearly invested. One of them mouthed, shoot your shot, and made a tiny fist pump.

He stayed where he was, not pressing. Just offering. The croissant was still warm. The flowers bent a little in the draft from the door, petals fluttering.

“You’re serious,” you said.

“Deadly.”

You huffed a laugh. “You’re bold.”

“I’m Taehyung,” he repeated with a wink.

You looked him up and down like you were trying to decide if this was real life or a fever dream brought on by lack of sleep and too much caffeine. “No,” you said finally, returning your focus to your textbook. “But… thanks for the snack.”

It wasn’t a yes. It wasn’t a full no either. It was a door left open just a crack.

Taehyung picked up the untouched croissant, unwrapped it, and placed it gently on top of your notes.

“For your brain,” he said with a grin.

And then he walked away.

Out the door. Back into the cold.

And for the rest of the day, you occupied way more space in his mind than his paper, his class, or his very irritated group chat.

^^^^^^^^

Taehyung burst into their shared suite like a man possessed.

Jimin was upside down on the couch, legs draped over the back cushions and phone resting on his chest. Hoseok was perched cross legged at the breakfast bar, scrolling through notes while stress eating fruit loops. Seokjin was in the tiny kitchenette, slicing fruit like he was auditioning for a cooking show.

All three looked up as Taehyung slammed the door, breathless.

“I met someone,” he announced dramatically.

Jimin rolled his eyes. “You met someone last week. And the week before that. And the week before—”

“No, no. This is different.” Taehyung threw his bag on the floor and spun like a theater major mid monologue. “I didn’t even know her name and I bought her flowers.”

Hoseok dropped his chopsticks. “You bought someone flowers?”

Seokjin squinted. “Is this an emergency?”

“Yes,” Taehyung said, dead serious. “I’m in love.”

Jimin groaned. “You say that every time someone breathes near you with good eyebrows.”

Taehyung pointed at him. “She had a psych book the size of a small country and a matcha latte. She said no to me. With full eye contact. No. Like I was a door to door salesman trying to pitch essential oils.”

Hoseok choked on a fruit loop. “Damn.”

“And she took the croissant,” Taehyung continued. “But not the flowers. She just left them on the table like a message. Like—‘thanks, peasant, but I am not to be wooed today.’”

Seokjin looked mildly concerned. “Did she hurt you?”

“No, but she could. And I would thank her for it.”

Jimin sat up, rubbing his face. “You don’t even know her name?”

“Not yet. But I will. Table Four, Bean There café. Every day if I have to.”

“God, he’s spiraling,” Hoseok muttered, passing Seokjin his bowl.

“I’m fine,” Taehyung said. “I’m just… invested. Emotionally. Spiritually. Academically.”

“She’s a psych major, huh?” Seokjin asked, sipping from his water bottle. “Explains why she’s not falling for your chaos.”

“I think she’s been through something,” Taehyung murmured, more serious now. “She had that look. You know… like she’s trying really hard not to believe in good things anymore.”

The room went quiet for a second.

Then Jimin said, “You’re so whipped already. I haven’t even seen her and I want her to give you a chance.”

Taehyung grinned. “Same.”

^^^^^^^^

Taehyung had a reputation for forgetting important things—his dorm key, due dates, what time class started—but he remembered you.

The curve of your lips when you told him “no” like it was a complete sentence. The slight twitch of amusement in your brow when he insisted he was serious. The way you stared back like you were used to brushing people off, like you were tired of being looked at like a puzzle someone could solve with a smile.

You didn’t know it, but you haunted him.

So, he went back to Bean There. Every single day.

Not in a weird way. Okay, maybe in a slightly weird way. But he sat at a different table each time, ordered something new, and kept one eye on Table Four like a man casually waiting on fate to show up with her purple pen and unbothered energy.

Day two: no sign of you.

Day three: a glimpse. You walked in, spotted him already sitting at your usual spot with a croissant and a hopeful smile—and turned right around and left.

He blinked. Sighed. Took a bite of the croissant and muttered, “Bold of you to resist destiny.”

But day four?

You sat down across from him.

“I’ve decided I’m not going to let you win,” you said plainly.

Taehyung blinked, startled. “I’m sorry—what?”

“You’re obviously playing the long game. Showing up here every day, waiting around like you’re in a romcom montage. It’s textbook persistence. I won’t be manipulated.”

Taehyung pressed his lips together, shoulders shaking. “Is… is this your way of saying you missed me?”

“Not even a little.”

“Then why are you here?”

You looked at him then. Really looked. “Because I’m tired. And you’re… persistent. And I have a lot of reading to do and this place has the best quality drinks my money can buy.”

He leaned back in his chair, beaming. “I’ll take it.”

You rolled your eyes but stayed put.

You didn’t tell him your name. Not yet. But you accepted the croissant and took his pen when yours ran out of ink. You let him sit beside you instead of across from you, and when he asked if he could see your textbook—“just to check if it’s cursed”—you didn’t say no.

Progress.

^^^^^^^^

Later that week, he found you outside the library in a study circle with three other students. He nearly walked by—he didn’t want to be annoying—but then he heard you laugh.

Taehyung stopped mid step.

You were glowing in the late afternoon sun, head tilted back, cheeks flushed from something someone had said. The group looked tight knit. Comfortable. Like you’d known each other for a while.

He stepped forward anyway.

“You guys studying for Abnormal Psych?” he asked, backpack slung over one shoulder.

The girl with the buzzcut nodded. “Yeah, why?”

“I’m in the class,” he lied smoothly. “Mind if I join?”

You looked up. Eyes narrowed.

“You’re not in this class.”

“I learn fast,” he said, already sitting down on the edge of the blanket someone had thrown across the grass. “Name’s Taehyung.”

Buzzcut girl perked up. “I’ve heard of you. You did karaoke dressed as an anime character at the bio major mixer.”

“Guilty,” he grinned.

“Didn’t know you were in psych, though.”

“Oh, I’m more of a… community learner.”

You snorted softly despite yourself. “This is a closed study group.”

“Not anymore,” Buzzcut girl said, pulling out her flashcards. “He brought gummy bears.”

Taehyung passed the bag to you first, catching your eye. “For your brain.”

You shook your head—but didn’t refuse them.

^^^^^^^^

Over the next two weeks, he became a fixture in your orbit.

He never asked for more than you gave, but he was always around—texting you helpful mnemonics, scribbling dumb doodles in the margins of your notes, bringing lattes and whispering jokes during tense study sessions.

You didn’t realize you’d started waiting for him until one day he was late and your stomach felt weird.

He showed up five minutes later with windblown hair and a sheepish grin. “Sorry, spilled yogurt on my pants and had to change. Very heroic story, I’ll tell it in full later.”

You didn’t say anything. Just nudged your shoulder against his as he sat down beside you.

He noticed.

Of course he noticed.

But he didn’t say a word. He just smiled.

Because you still hadn’t said yes to dinner. You hadn’t said yes to “just one date.”

But you’d stopped saying no.

^^^^^^^^

It was the kind of party that smelled like sweat, cheap beer, and bad decisions—one of those “someone’s cousin knows the guy who owns this place” situations where no one really belonged but no one got kicked out either.

The porch was packed. The lawn was wrecked. Someone had already duct taped a traffic cone to the roof.

It was a Thursday.

Your roommate had dragged you out. She was currently glittered from head to toe and sipping a vodka cranberry like it was a rite of passage.

“This is exactly what you need,” Nia said over the music. “One night. No textbooks. No overthinking. Just vibes.”

You weren’t sure if just vibes was medically advisable, but you’d worn your favorite jeans, a cute little corset Nia let you borrow, and actually styled your hair. So you were halfway committed.

And then he appeared.

Taehyung, standing in the hallway like he knew he was the main character—dress shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows, rings glinting in the dim light, curls wild and his grin wilder. Jimin was beside him, all smirks and shoulder shrugs, clearly playing wingman for the night.

You caught Taehyung’s eye.

And he lit up.

“Look who finally decided to be fun,” he said, weaving through the crowd like he had a spotlight following him.

“You’re everywhere,” you muttered, sipping your drink.

“I contain multitudes,” he replied, offering his hand with zero irony. “Dance with me.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“Just one song?”

“You’re impossible.”

“And yet…”

You let him pull you in.

Just one song. One dumb, thumping remix with bass that shook the walls and made your teeth buzz. Taehyung danced like no one was watching—and if they were, he didn’t care. Loose, confident, chaotic in a way that made you laugh more than you should’ve. He pulled you into it without thinking—hands on your waist, forehead nearly brushing yours, smiling like you were already his.

Then it turned into two songs. Then three.

You pretended not to notice how close he got. How your body moved in sync with his. How his hands never strayed too far, but also never let you drift.

When the music shifted into something slower, more nostalgic, you ducked out with a mumbled, “Need some air.”

Taehyung followed. Of course he did.

The backyard was quieter. Cooler. The string lights hanging between trees buzzed softly, casting a golden halo around everything. You leaned against the porch railing, drink in hand, and tried to act unaffected.

“You’re good at that,” he said after a minute.

“At what?”

“Pretending you’re not having a good time.”

You glanced at him. “Maybe I’m not.”

“You are.” He bumped his shoulder against yours. “You laughed three times. Snorted once. That’s a strong indicator of fun.”

You rolled your eyes. “Maybe I’m just easy to amuse.”

“I don’t think you’re easy at all.”

That pulled your gaze back to him.

Taehyung didn’t look away.

He wasn’t smiling now. Not exactly. Just… watching you, like he was waiting for something.

“Why me?” you asked softly. “You flirt with everyone.”

“Not like this.”

You blinked. “Like what?”

“Like I mean it.”

The words sat heavy in the air between you. Not overwhelming. Not demanding. Just there—a quiet truth.

You didn’t know what to do with it.

So you leaned in, just a little. Just close enough to tempt fate.

And then Nia called your name from across the yard, voice bright and urgent.

You stepped back.

Just enough to make Taehyung smile—small, understanding, but with a flicker of disappointment he didn’t quite hide.

“Almost,” he whispered, more to himself than to you.

You didn’t respond.

Because almost was already more than you meant to give him.

^^^^^^^^

Inside, as the night wore on, Taehyung sat on the arm of the couch nursing a beer while Jimin hovered beside him.

“You okay?” Jimin asked, nodding toward the door you’d walked through.

“Yeah,” Taehyung said, eyes still on the space where you’d stood. “She makes me nervous in a good way.”

“Oof, that’s the scariest kind.”

Taehyung nodded. “I know.”

^^^^^^^^

The first day of summer was supposed to taste like freedom.

You’d graduated with honors, your cap decorated in glitter and photos, your cheeks sore from smiling. The night before, you and Damian had promised to meet at your favorite coffee spot to plan everything—dorm lists, road trip playlists, countdowns until move-in day. You were so ready for the next chapter.

He was fifteen minutes late.

That should’ve been your first clue.

You were halfway through your iced vanilla latte when he finally walked in, hands in his pockets, hair still wet from his morning shower. He didn’t kiss your cheek like he usually did. Didn’t smile like he had the night before when you slow danced to no music in your driveway.

He just slid into the booth across from you and looked down at his hands.

You remember the cold bloom of instinct in your gut. The kind that whispered, something’s wrong before anything had even been said.

“Babe?”

He didn’t look at you.

“I got into UCLA,” he said.

You blinked. “What?”

“I applied in secret. Early decision.”

“But…” You laughed, confused. “We were going to State. We both committed—”

“I didn’t sign anything,” he cut in. “I waited.”

The room spun.

“Why?”

Damian looked up then. Not cruel. Not angry. Just… removed. Like he’d already made peace with the explosion and was just waiting for the dust to settle.

“Because high school sweethearts is cute,” he said softly. “But it’s also… high school. I want to see what college has to offer.”

You stared at him, chest rising and falling like your lungs had forgotten how to breathe right.

“I don’t want to be tied down,” he added.

That part hit the hardest.

Like all your plans—every phone call about future dorm setups, every hand squeezing moment when college felt scary—had been your fantasy, and he’d just been playing along. Like your love had an expiration date, and he’d already circled it in red.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and asked the only question you could manage:

“When were you going to tell me?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I guess… today.”

You nodded slowly, as if your heart hadn’t just been cracked down the middle.

“You could’ve just said you didn’t love me anymore.”

He winced. “It’s not that. I do. Just… not enough to stay.”

That was worse.

You didn’t cry. Not in the booth. Not in front of him.

You just stood, left your untouched drink on the table, and walked out into the summer sun that suddenly felt all wrong.

That night, you packed away every picture. Deleted every message. Blocked his name from your college folder. And when Nia came over with a pint of ice cream and a bottle of tequila, you didn’t say a word.

You just shook your head and promised yourself:

Next time, it’ll be different.

If there even was a next time.

^^^^^^^^

The rain started around sunset—soft at first, like a whisper against the windows. But by nightfall, it was pouring, steady and rhythmic, turning the sidewalks into mirrors and the air into something heavier.

You were at the library, third floor, tucked into a booth that always smelled faintly of printer ink and pencil shavings. A hoodie swallowed your frame, sleeves pushed past your knuckles as you clicked between tabs on your laptop. Notes, study guide, quizlet, back to notes.

You were trying to be productive.

Trying not to think.

But the words blurred together, and your chest felt tight, and your coffee had gone cold an hour ago.

You thought about texting Nia.

You thought about crying.

Instead, you just sat there, headphones in but no music playing, watching the cursor blink like it knew how close you were to breaking.

I want to see what college has to offer.

You could still hear Damian’s voice. Calm. Certain. As if you hadn’t spent two years memorizing each other’s schedules and picking out twin bedspreads. As if you hadn’t built an entire future together only for him to drop it in your lap like a stone and walk away.

You blinked fast. Swallowed hard.

And then—

Tap. Tap. Tap.

You looked up.

Taehyung.

Dripping wet from the rain, curls flattened against his forehead, hoodie dark with water around the shoulders. He grinned through it all, holding a brown paper bag in one hand and a lumpy, too bright bouquet in the other.

“Emergency snack delivery,” he said, voice muffled by the air pods still in your ears.

You tugged one out. “What are you—how did you know I was here?”

“You’re a creature of habit,” he said. “And you said you study here during exam week.”

“I could’ve gone anywhere.”

He shrugged. “But you didn’t.”

He sat across from you, no hesitation, already pulling things from the bag: chocolate covered pretzels, sour gummy worms, two croissants, and a lavender canned tea. Then—like a magician pulling a rabbit out of a hat—he produced a single, rainbow gel pen.

You blinked. “Is that mine?”

“I found it in your psych notes.”

“You stole my pen?”

“Borrowed. For morale.”

You stared at the offerings on the table.

“You okay?” he asked, quieter now. The smile hadn’t disappeared, but it had softened, curved at the edges with concern.

You hesitated. “Just tired.”

He nodded. “Tired sucks.”

And somehow, that made it easier.

You let him stay. Let him quiz you in a silly voice. Let him dramatically act out memory devices like you were cramming for a Broadway audition instead of a midterm. You laughed. More than once. He caught you smiling down at your notebook and said nothing—but he noticed.

Like he always did

At one point, you let your head fall against the window. He reached across the table and tucked your pen behind your ear like it was something precious. His fingers brushed your cheek, just for a second, and your whole body sparked like a struck match.

You didn’t pull away.

But you didn’t lean in either.

He didn’t push.

When the library announced its closing, you packed your things slowly. He waited. Held your laptop sleeve without asking. Walked beside you in the rain without offering an umbrella—just held it high enough for both of you to huddle under.

When you got to your door, you turned to face him.

The porch light flickered above your head. He looked at you like you were made of stardust.

“This the part where you kiss me?” you asked softly.

Taehyung smiled. “Nope.”

You tilted your head. “Why not?”

“Because I want you to kiss me,” he said. “When you’re ready. When it’s real. When it’s yours.”

You looked at him.

The kindness. The care. The way he never pushed, never pried, never reached for more than you offered.

Your chest ached.

“I’m scared,” you whispered.

“I know.”

“I don’t want to get hurt again.”

“I won’t hurt you.”

“You can’t promise that.”

“I know,” he repeated. “But I can promise I’ll stay.”

You blinked.

He smiled. Tipped his head. “Goodnight, beautiful.”

And he walked away.

You stood in the doorway for a long time after he was gone.

Not thinking.

Just feeling.

^^^^^^^^

The text came on a Tuesday, sandwiched between a group project meltdown and a mediocre dining hall salad.

Taehyung [1:04 PM] important question: do you believe in spontaneous joy, glitter, and road trips with questionable wifi? 🙃

You frowned.

You [1:06 PM] …what are you planning?

Taehyung [1:06 PM] music festival. this weekend. us, jimin, nia, a few others. tents. loud music. bad decisions. snacks. it’s practically self care!

You didn’t answer right away. He waited a whole ten minutes before sending another.

Taehyung [1:16 PM] i’ll bring gummy bears and the collapsible desk. and i’ll make you a playlist. please come🙏🏻 i want to dance with you under ugly lights and yell lyrics off key.

You stared at the message longer than you should have.

Nia leaned over your tray. “Is that the chaotic guy with the eyebrows and the emotional support snacks?”

“Yes.”

“Are we going?”

“I don’t know.”

“You want to.”

“…Yeah. I think I do.”

^^^^^^^^

On Friday, when the sun was just barely making its daily debut, you stood on the curb in front of the dorm with your duffel bag, hoodie pulled tight, trying not to look excited.

The van was chaos in motion—Jimin behind the wheel in yellow sunglasses and a mesh tank top, Hoseok in the passenger seat playing DJ, and Taehyung in the backseat waving at you like he hadn’t seen you in years instead of twelve hours ago.

“You came!” he shouted, throwing the side door open like a golden retriever greeting its favorite person. “You came.”

“You said there’d be snacks.”

“I said there’d be magic. Snacks are a bonus.”

Nia climbed in behind you, flopping over a pile of blankets. Someone tossed you a warm muffin. Hoseok handed you a tiny bottle of hotel shampoo, no explanation. It was perfect.

^^^^^^^^

The drive was loud, messy, and full of laughter.

They passed around instant cameras and took blurry photos at gas stations. Played Taehyung’s Mixtape Mayhem game, your movie montage song: Cigarette Daydreams; his: SexyBack, with no shame whatsoever. Someone kept losing signal. Someone else lost a shoe.

You hadn’t laughed that much in a long time.

And Taehyung? He watched you with this soft awe, like every time you smiled it made something in him settle deeper. He didn’t cling, didn’t crowd, just found you with his gaze every so often like he couldn’t not.

When you sang along to a song you loved, he watched your mouth like it was art.

When your head drooped against the window, he tucked your hoodie hood up without a word.

And when you caught him looking?

He just smiled.

^^^^^^^^

The air buzzed with bass and heat, the kind of energy that stuck to your skin. You pitched tents between strangers and strung fairy lights between trees. Someone spilled a soda on your blanket. Jimin got into a debate with a guy selling handmade jewelry about astrology. You danced under colored lights and neon fog and laughed until your cheeks hurt.

At some point, Taehyung disappeared and returned with glow stick crowns. He placed yours gently on your head like it was something precious.

“There,” he said. “Royalty.”

“Are you flirting with me?”

He blinked. “Am I not always?”

You couldn’t argue with that.

^^^^^^^^

Later that night the fire pit had burned down to a sleepy glow. Everyone else had drifted off to their tents, leaving you and Taehyung in the silence of stars and smoke.

You lay on your back in the grass, his arm close enough that you could feel the warmth of him. Your glow stick crown still flickered faintly. His curls were tucked under a beanie now, damp from sweat and fog.

“Tell me something real,” he said suddenly.

You turned your head. “What?”

“Anything. Doesn’t have to be deep. Just real.”

You hesitated for a few minutes before deciding to push past the fear.

“I think…I’m afraid of how much I like you.”

His breath hitched.

You didn’t look at him.

You just stared at the sky and added, “Because last time I liked someone this much… it didn’t end well.”

He was quiet.

Then his fingers found yours in the grass, slow and careful.

“I’m not him,” he said.

You finally turned.

“I know,” you said. “That’s what scares me.”

He didn’t kiss you.

He didn’t rush.

He just held your hand like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Like maybe you’d been holding his this whole time without realizing it.

^^^^^^^^

Finals week feels like the inside of a pressure cooker.

Sleep becomes optional. Meals turn into vending machine runs and half eaten granola bars that disappear somewhere in your bag. The library is open 24/7, and somehow still always full. Even Taehyung looks frayed at the edges—hoodie pulled low, dark circles under his eyes, curls tucked under a beanie he refuses to take off.

But he still checks in.

He texts you every day. Drops off snacks when you forget to eat. Leaves sticky notes in your textbooks with doodles and cheesy pep talks in his messy handwriting. On the morning of your hardest exam, you find a neon green post it tucked into your notebook:

you’re gonna crush this. and when you do, i’m taking you to celebrate. wear something that makes me weak.

You laugh out loud. Then immediately choke on your coffee and have to explain to your roommate why you’re smiling like the post it just confessed its love to you.

^^^^^^^^

It was past one in the morning, and the world outside your window had gone still.

Finals were less than two days away, your laptop fan was groaning like it was on its last breath, and your study guide looked like a crime scene—scribbled notes, scratched out equations, desperate reminders written in red pen.

You sat on your bedroom floor, a monstrously oversized t-shirt, bare legs tangled in a blanket, surrounded by empty coffee cups and open tabs you couldn’t bring yourself to close.

Your brain was fogged.

Your chest was tight.

The quiet wasn’t peaceful—it was loud.

You stared down at the mess of your planner, blinking back the hot sting in your eyes, and then reached for your phone without even thinking.

You [1:23 AM] can you come over..if you’re awake

You didn’t expect an answer right away. But thirty seconds later his reply came.

Taehyung [1:23AM] already halfway there

^^^^^^^^

You barely had time to drag your fingers through your hair and put on some shorts before there was a knock on the door.

You opened it to find him standing there in gray slacks and a too big sweater, and his backpack hanging off one shoulder like he’d come from war.

“Hi,” he said, voice soft.

You just nodded and stepped aside.

He looked around your room—saw the chaos, the barely contained panic—and didn’t say anything about it.

Instead, he set his bag down, pulled out a warm croissant wrapped in foil and a little folded paper crane he’d clearly scribbled something onto.

You opened it.

you’ve survived 100% of your worst days so far. let’s keep the streak going.

The tears came so fast you didn’t even feel them build.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you whispered.

Taehyung was already crossing the room.

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” he said, pulling you into his arms like he’d done it a thousand times. “You’re just tired. You’ve been carrying the world on your back for weeks. Let someone hold it with you for a minute.”

You buried your face in his chest, breathing in that warm, cozy scent that had become your favorite thing.

He didn’t rush you. Didn’t ask for anything in return. Just rubbed your back slowly and let you fall apart.

When the tears slowed and the silence stretched, he spoke again—low and gentle.

“Can I say something, or will it make you spiral more?”

You sniffed. “Depends. Are you about to tell me you failed an exam?”

He smiled against your hair. “No. I was gonna tell you I think I’m falling in love with you.”

You froze.

Not in a bad way. Just in that whole body still way that happens when something hits too deep to move.

You leaned back just enough to look at him.

“Why would you say that now?”

“Because I’ve wanted to say it for a while,” he said, searching your face. “And because I think you need to hear something true right now. Even if it’s scary.”

You stared at him, heart pounding.

And then slowly, carefully.

You kissed him.

It wasn’t cinematic, No swelling orchestra, no perfectly timed wind. Just his sweater against your skin, your hands in his hair at the nape of his neck, your breath hitching when he cupped your cheek like he couldn’t believe you were real.

When you pulled away, he was smiling like he’d just solved a riddle no one else could.

“You… kissed me,” he whispered.

“You said you were waiting,” you murmured back.

“I would’ve waited forever.”

You leaned your forehead against his, voice barely there. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t leave. Don’t change your mind. Don’t do what he did, please.”

Taehyung kissed your nose.

Then your cheek.

Then your mouth again.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

^^^^^^^^

Finals week hit like a freight train.

The library turned into a second home. Cafeteria food lost what little appeal it had. Everyone walked around with under eye circles and iced coffee IVs. You were running on four hours of sleep, two protein bars, and blind academic panic.

But somehow, Taehyung made it feel almost survivable.

He didn’t hover—he just showed up exactly when you needed him. A text when your brain fogged. A forehead kiss on his way to class. A note slipped into your textbook that read:

you don’t have to do this alone. but I know you can.

Every time you felt yourself unravel, he helped you stitch yourself back together.

And he never asked for anything in return.

^^^^^^^^

The night before your last exam, you sat side by side in his dorm’s common room, surrounded by half open notebooks and the distant sound of someone crying over a chemistry final. Your head rested against his shoulder, your body warm beneath a shared blanket.

You hadn’t kissed again since that night.

Not because you didn’t want to—but because something about the pause felt sacred. Like the next time it happened, it would mean everything.

“I had a dream last night,” you whispered. “That we were back at the café. You walked in and didn’t recognize me.”

Taehyung’s brow furrowed. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“I don’t know,” you said. “Maybe because I wasn’t… this version of me. I was still the girl from the first day of summer. Still waiting to be chosen.”

He turned toward you, eyes soft. “I’ve been choosing you since the second I saw you.”

You didn’t speak.

You didn’t need to.

Because the silence between you wasn’t empty—it was full of everything.

He reached for your hand, weaving your fingers together slowly.

“I know you were hurt,” he said quietly. “And I know I can’t erase that. But I swear, every part of me wants to give you something better. Softer. Real.”

You looked at him.

At the guy who bought you croissants just to learn your name.

At the guy who stayed.

Who always stayed.

“Ask me again,” you said.

Taehyung blinked. “What?”

“Ask me again to go out with you.”

His mouth curved into a slow, sure smile.

“Will you go out with me?”

You leaned in.

Kissed him like you were sealing something that had already been written in stone and yet brand new at the same time.

“Yes.”

^^^^^^^^

Two days later on the campus lawn, post exams, the sun was shining too bright. Students were lounging like survivors after battle. Nia had collapsed onto a blanket with iced tea and a victory playlist.

You were half asleep, head in Taehyung’s lap, as he read a graphic novel with one hand and played with your curls with the other.

“So what now?” you mumbled.

“Now?” he said. “Now we do summer. We do late night drives and brunch and museums and maybe even a weekend at that lake house my cousin keeps bragging about.”

“Sounds like a lot.”

“It is,” he said. “And it’s all with you.”

You closed your eyes, smiling.

Because for the first time in a long time, the future didn’t feel like a question mark.

It felt like a promise.

^^^^^^^^

You didn’t even need a destination.

Just Taehyung behind the wheel of his silver coupe, music low, the windows cracked open to let in the breeze. The sky stretched wide overhead, pale blue with streaks of clouds that looked like brushstrokes.

“You packed four pairs of jeans,” he said, glancing at your duffel bag in the backseat. “We’re gone for two days.”

“I like options,” you replied, flicking his sunglasses down over his eyes. “And you brought five different notebooks.”

“Those are creative tools.”

“Sure.”

He grinned, reaching for your hand across the console. His fingers laced with yours so naturally it felt like you’d always done it.

The road was empty. Just the two of you, the hum of the tires, and a playlist you built together that morning—equal parts indie slow burn, R&B, and old songs you both secretly knew every word to.

You leaned your head out the window and yelled into the wind just to feel it bite at your cheeks.

Taehyung watched you with a smile that made your stomach dip.

“Wanna stop?” he asked after a while, eyes flicking toward a peeling road sign that read:

EXIT 41 – Scenic Overlook | Fruit Stand | Antique Store

“Fruit stand?”

He wiggled his brows. “Adventure.”

You rolled your eyes. “Fine. But if this turns into a weird horror movie setup, I’m leaving you behind.”

“Noted,” he said, already flipping on the turn signal.

^^^^^^^^

Twenty minutes later you stood at the edge of a hill, hair whipping in the breeze, holding a strawberry soda in one hand and a bag of peaches in the other.

The overlook was quiet, just a small gravel lot with a single picnic table and a stunning view of rolling hills and wide open sky. The woman at the fruit stand had called you two honeymooners and given you an extra apple “just in case.”

Taehyung climbed onto the table and stretched his arms behind his head, shirt riding up just enough to make you look away and then look back a second later.

“This feels fake,” you said, settling beside him.

“What does?”

“This.” You gestured at the view. “Us. The quiet. Everything.”

“It’s real,” he said simply. “Just rare.”

You sat in silence for a while, sharing sips of soda and stealing bites of fruit, letting your bodies lean into each other without needing to say anything.

Then, out of nowhere—

“Marry me.”

You choked.

Taehyung was grinning, not serious, but not exactly joking either.

“Excuse me?”

He shrugged. “Someday. If you’re bored. If you need someone to keep bringing you snacks and calling you pretty forever.”

You looked at him.

At his messy curls and his sun kissed skin and the way he was watching you like he knew how to wait a lifetime for the right moment.

And for the first time, the idea didn’t terrify you.

It made your heart ache in a way that felt good.

“Maybe,” you said.

“Maybe?”

“Ask me again at another fruit stand.”

He leaned in, kissed your temple, and whispered, “Deal.”

| 3 years later |

The first chill of autumn always brought you back to the beginning.

It made the air sharper. The coffee stronger. The campus quieter, like it was exhaling after the noise of summer. And tucked between the music hall and the campus bookstore, Bean There Café still looked the same—wobbly table legs, moody lighting, a playlist that always seemed to know how you were feeling.

Table Four hadn’t changed.

Still near the window. Still a little crooked. Still yours.

Taehyung sat sideways in his chair, sketchbook resting on his knee, his left foot nudging yours under the table every few minutes like he couldn’t help it. His curls were longer now, his rings flashier. But his smile? Still exactly the same.

Across from him, you were highlighting a research article, one AirPod in, your cardigan slipping off your shoulder in that way that always made him pause.

He watched you for a long time before speaking.

“You’re really gonna make me sit here and suffer without saying hi to me properly, baby?”

You didn’t look up. “We’ve been sitting here for twenty minutes.”

“Exactly. That’s twenty minutes of missed affection. I’m traumatized.”

You set your pen down and raised an eyebrow. “Would you like a sticker or a kiss?”

“Yes.”

You leaned across the table and kissed his cheek.

“Greedy,” you said.

“Hopeless,” he corrected. “Hopelessly greedy for you.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled, and Taehyung felt something settle in his chest like a song finishing its final note.

He reached into his bag and pulled out a folded piece of thick paper—worn at the edges, carefully smoothed out. He slid it across the table without ceremony.

You opened it slowly.

Inside was a new sketch. A recreation of Table Four—but not the one from the past. This time, there were two mugs. A laptop. Your favorite pen. A shared pastry. You were looking down, focused. Taehyung had drawn himself mid smile, eyes only on you.

In the corner, in soft graphite:

Still my favorite seat in the world.

You blinked hard.

“This is unfair,” you whispered.

“It’s accurate,” he said, already reaching for your hand. “You saved my heart when I didn’t even realize I’d given it away.”

“You’re being dramatic.”

“I’m being honest.”

You looked up at him. Your Taehyung. The man who once brought you croissants for no reason. Who waited. Who never asked for more than you could give, but always gave you more than you knew to want.

You squeezed his hand.

“I’m glad I sat down that day.”

“I’m glad I saw you.”

Outside, the wind rustled golden leaves against the glass. Someone near the register was humming along to a soft acoustic cover of a love song you both knew. The coffee still wasn’t great. The wi-fi still glitched near the counter. But none of it mattered.

Because this table—this moment—this love?

It was yours.

And it always would be.

| 6 years later |

It was a Thursday night in late spring, and the city had finally started to bloom again.

You and Taehyung had gone to dinner at your favorite spot—quiet, candlelit, familiar. He’d been soft all evening, affectionate in that barely contained way he got when something was brewing behind his eyes. The kind of soft where his hand found your lower back for no reason. The kind of soft where his eyes never stopped smiling, even when his mouth did.

“I still say I could’ve made better risotto,” you teased, tugging on his sleeve as the two of you walked back toward the car.

“Untrue,” he said. “You would’ve burned the pan and added too much salt.”

You gasped. “You love my over salted cooking.”

“I love you, baby,” he corrected. “The cooking is a side quest.”

He kissed your temple and opened the passenger door for you, sliding into the driver’s side a second later like he hadn’t been checking the time on his phone every five minutes during dinner.

You didn’t notice.

Too busy pulling off your earrings and mumbling about whether or not you left the porch light on back at the townhouse.

^^^^^^^^

Ten minutes into the drive, you pass it.

A fruit stand.

Small, rustic. Just off the edge of a quiet road near your neighborhood. The wood was painted with soft lavender accents and little twinkle lights strung above it. There was a handwritten chalkboard that read:

Fresh Strawberries • Homemade Peach Jam • Love Optional

You blinked. “That… wasn’t here last week.”

Taehyung’s grip on the wheel tightened. “Wanna stop?”

You hesitated.

He looked over, a small, unreadable smile pulling at his lips. “Adventure?”

Your heart kicked up—familiar, fond, warm.

You smiled. “Sure. But if this is another horror movie setup, I’m leaving you behind again.”

“My beautiful creature of habit.”

^^^^^^^^

The stand looked even more whimsical up close. There were bunches of baby’s breath in tiny mason jars, a crate of freshly baked mini pies, and baskets of strawberries that still smelled like sun.

You wandered toward a basket.

Taehyung stayed a few steps behind.

You reached for a peach. “This is so weird, who puts a random fruit—?”

When you turned, he wasn’t beside you.

He was kneeling.

One knee to the earth. Holding a ring box that looked like it had been in his pocket for weeks, like it had been waiting for the right moment. For the right stand.

Your breath caught in your throat.

You barely registered the wind.

Or the smell of strawberries.

Or the sound of the breeze rattling the twinkle lights.

“I asked you once at a fruit stand if you’d marry me,” Taehyung said, voice quiet but steady. “You said to ask again someday. At another stand.”

You blinked fast. “Tae—”

“I knew then. I knew before then. Before croissants. Before gummy bears. Before that first party and the first road trip and the first kiss you gave me when you didn’t even believe in love anymore.”

His voice cracked.

You hadn’t even realized you were crying until a tear landed on your thumb.

Taehyung smiled—shaky, bright. “I’ve spent every day since just being lucky enough to love you.”

The ring was delicate. Gold band with a peach colored diamond. Your style, down to the last glimmer.

“So now,” he continued, “I’m asking again. One more time, with no expiration date, no more waiting.”

He looked up at you, eyes shining.

“Will you marry me?”

Your knees gave a little.

You nodded, too fast. “Yes. Y-Yes, I will.”

The ring slid onto your finger like it had always belonged there.

You barely had time to breathe before Nia screamed from behind a car, “SHE SAID YES, Y’ALL—COME ON!”

Laughter and cheers exploded around you.

From behind every parked car friends and family poured out, cheering and shouting, phones up, cameras flashing. Jimin was in tears. Hoseok threw confetti that stuck in Taehyung’s hair. Seokjin was already handing out mini champagne bottles.

You covered your mouth in disbelief as your world rushed forward in color and light.

Taehyung pulled you into his chest, arms around your waist, spinning you slightly.

“I can’t believe you did all this,” you whispered into his shoulder.

“I would’ve shut down the whole city if you asked,” he said. “But this felt more like us.”

And it did.

A quiet road.

A handmade sign.

The kind of love that started with a croissant and a ‘maybe’ at table four.

masterlist

Predator (Jungkook x Reader) Part II - Prey

Pairing: Vampire Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 5.2k

Series: Predator Universe

Warnings: 18+, Yandere, Vampire Jungkook, Obsession, Manipulation, Forced Relationships, Blood (So much of it), Fear (Copious amounts), Panic/Anxiety Attacks, Mind Games, Tormenting the MCs, Discussions about dead bodies, Jungkook and his unblinking stare, Self Injury (Non Mental Health Related), Forced Feeding, Isolation

I do not condone the acts displayed in this story nor do I believe any members of BTS would actually engage in this type of behavior. This is simply written for entertainment purposes and should not be taken as a reflection of my own values, opinions, or morals.

Preview: The worst part was that you never tried to run. Jungkook never tied you down to anything or bound your wrists or feet. He simply knew that you would never try. It would be idiotic for you to try and run, you knew he was a talented tracker - he would be able to find you within minutes of your escape. There was nowhere to run and nowhere to hide from him, he would always be able to find you.

A/N: I am alive! This was entirely inspired by an ask that was sent to me so the entire reason this exists is because of the wonderful anons who have asked be about what has happened since the end of Predator and who have asked to see what a more lucid Jungkook would look like. I haven't had this much fun writing in such a long time. I'm sorry it's so short, I hope you can forgive me 💜

_______

It was dark and quiet, the only sound being the steady, slow, drip of water hitting the dusty floorboards and the harsh chatter of your teeth as they clashed together. 

You were freezing, your body trembling despite your best attempts to collect yourself. It was no use, no matter what you did you were never able to warm up anymore. You knew it wasn’t all that cold outside, but that didn’t really matter. Despite the chills that wracked your body there was a fine sheen of sweat that coated your skin.

You were unsure as to how much time had really passed since you had found yourself here. All of the days had begun to blend together like some horrible fever dream you simply couldn’t wake up from. The only constant in your life has become him. 

If you didn’t know any better, you would think he was trying to kill you. 

What was truly likely, was that this was a side effect of his treatment of you. It was very likely that he just didn’t know how to take care of a human. And despite your incessant pleading, he had told you that he would not kill you. So really, it was his own ineptitude that had you knocking on death’s door.

Your skin felt grimey, not entirely from lack of hygiene, but from the film of blood that coated your skin. It was all over you but it mostly dominated your cheeks, lips, throat, chest, and fingers. He was not violent when he claimed his feeds, but he was not necessarily gentle either. You hadn’t looked in a mirror for quite some time, but you were certain no amount of vampire blood would be able to seal your wounds with how often they were readily reopened.

This wasn’t a life, it was a slow and painful trek to the afterlife.

Your trembling increased as the front porch creaked, he was already back. Your head lolled backwards and hit the wall behind you in defeat. You couldn’t do this again, you couldn’t give him another part of yourself - this time you were certain that it would kill you. 

Every time he fed from you, there was a horrible, delightful, exhilarating rush that followed. Whatever it was that he was doing to you, it was forcing you to enjoy the very thing that was killing you. It was perverse. It was disgusting. It was addicting.

It was hard to hate him in the throes of ecstasy, there was this horrible thrill that came the second before his fangs pierced his limb of choice as you knew you would be rewarded with bliss in the moments that followed. It was easier to hate him when he wasn’t there, his lack of presence giving your mind the briefest of reprieves to remind yourself of the horrible situation you were truly in. 

The distance, however, didn’t seem to allow him the same clarity. If anything, it made him grow more needy, more irritated, and more clingy.

The door creaked open, and your time to yourself disappeared. Your body shook tenfold as his presence filled the room. He still looked the same as he did the first time you had come face to face with him. His clothes were worse for wear, even more blood stained and shredded than they had been before. There was a permanent coppery scent that surrounded him, the dried blood being the prime suspect. 

You were certain that you didn’t smell that much better. Although, to a vampire, you probably would smell all that more enticing.

His gaze was immediately drawn to you, your eyes locking with one another, bridging the fifteen foot gap between you. His eyes often fluctuated in vibrancy depending on how hungry he was. The days where they were near black were the most difficult for you, but today they were a bright crimson red. He had fed on someone, someone who luckily wasn’t you.

“Hello little mouse,” He greeted, his voice low and surprisingly soft, devoid of the almost manic tone you had been familiar with for the longest time. 

He began to close the distance between the two of you, his gait smooth as he approached you. The way he moved was unnaturally perfect, the silent power of a predator imbued in every muscle of his body.

He wordlessly dropped a bag in your lap as he sank down to the ground beside you, his wide, red, unblinking eyes staring at you, waiting for you to make a move. No matter how much time you have spent with him, his stare was still unnerving.

It took you longer than it should have to open it, your fingers trembling beyond your control. But Jungkook was patient, he has all of the time in the world to wait.

The scent of food hit your nose, your mouth watering and your stomach growling eagerly in response. From the color of his eyes and what he had brought you, you assumed he had decided to have his fill of a hiker instead of you. 

Jungkook didn’t know how to take care of a human, that much was obvious. He had, however, been keenly aware of how much blood he was draining from your body on a daily basis. You had become so weak, anything but sitting felt like a herculean task nowadays. And the lack of consistent meals was weighing heavy on your body.

You didn’t care that he was watching you eat, your mannerisms ravenous and most likely off putting. But you no longer complained when he took his fill of you, and for some reason he remained silent and returned that courtesy. 

You had noticed a shift in his behavior when that other vampire had found the two of you not that long ago. He knew Jungkook, from the way they spoke it appeared he knew him very well. This other vampire, despite how he appeared more human than Jungkook, frightened you just as much. You could tell from the curl of his smile to his confident gait that he was just as bad, if not worse, as Jungkook.

You had nearly fainted on the spot when he suggested the two of them share you, you were already tapped out as it was, Jungkook had fed on you that morning. The two of them, together, would kill you for sure.

To your surprise, Jungkook had not responded enthusiastically. He responded like an animal defending its territory - baring his fangs and growling in just barely contained rage. And that reaction had set off the other vampire and before you knew it they were a blur of limbs.

They moved so fast your human eyes could barely keep up with them. You were only able to focus when one of them threw the other giving you just enough time to watch them separate before they came back together again. The sound their bodies made when they clashed together was like thunder from what you could only assume was the pure force and strength they possessed. And, much like animals, they ripped and tore into one another with their teeth and nails.

By the time the two of them had finally separated for good, it was because of how much they had injured one another. The both of them were covered in wounds oozing black blood, some of which was their own, and some belonging to the other.

The other vampire, whom you had briefly heard Jungkook address as Hoseok, was tired but still enraged.

“Are you fucking serious? All of this for what, a pathetic little human?!” He yelled, his nostrils flaring in anger. “It’s food, Jungkook! I’m your brother!”

Your body flinched out of habit at the snarl that left Jungkook.

“With the rate that you’re going you’ll kill her anyways! Why does it even matter?!”

“She’s my human,” Jungkook replied, his voice low with warning.

“This isn’t even supposed to be about her! She’s nothing! Namjoon sent me to come and find you but you know what, I think I’ll let you deal with the consequences of your actions. It’s only a matter of time before he comes for you and when that happens, you're on your own!”

He disappeared quickly after that, it was like he was there one moment and then vanished the next. Once he was gone, Jungkook’s once sturdy stance softened, his shoulders bending forward from the strain of his own weight. He was hurt, badly.

He slowly turned to look at you, the red of his eyes and his dark mop of hair just visible over the curve of his shoulder. You knew that look, it usually didn’t end well for you. 

“No, no, no, Jungkook, please!” You whimpered, scrambling backwards.

But it was no use, he never listened to you anyways. He always took what he wanted, even when you had nothing left to give. 

He stumbled when he moved but he quickly regained his footing, his black blood stained hands grabbing you by the shins and pulling your retreating form towards him. You fought as hard as you could but you were already weak to begin with.

“Stop it, please!” You begged, but he didn’t listen. He wrapped his arms around you, his grip too tight and utterly uncomfortable. 

“Jungkook-”

“Shut up,” He grunted before yanking your head roughly to the side and sinking his teeth back into the scarred skin of your neck. The shriek that left you was borderline inhuman, the building scar tissue made the intrusion all the more painful and Jungkook was not gentle.

And he had already taken so much blood the day before. It wasn’t long before your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you went limp in his iron hold.

That was the first time that Jungkook had given you vampire blood. You had almost died that day, you had gotten so close to finally being free of him and still he wouldn’t let you go. Even death wasn’t a great enough adversary for him. 

When you had woken up after that attack, shocked that you managed to survive, you were met with those big, red, frightening eyes. The look on his face was the most serious you had ever seen it before, an odd clarity in his eyes that you were seeing for the first time.

He had been dreadfully quiet since then, speaking even less and shorter sentences than he normally did. You wouldn’t say he felt bad for what he did, but he had become increasingly aware of the inherent fragility that came with being human. He never apologized, but he had fed from you a lot less after that.

You froze mid bite as you felt his icy fingers graze your flesh, the coolness biting your skin and seeping into your veins. His touch was feather light, just barely there, but you went still beneath it anyways. You were incredibly aware of the strength that was concealed in that touch. He appeared unbothered by your response, his thumb smoothing over the curve of your jaw as he leaned in unbearably close.

You flinched at the feeling of cold metal being draped around your throat, his fingers clasping the material at the nape of your neck. It was a necklace. Your chest felt tighter, the food in your stomach quickly souring. 

He was doing it again. 

You were well aware of Jungkook’s strange and disturbing habit of taking mementos from his victims. His ears, wrists, neck, and practically every inch of his body were adorned with items he had stolen. You noticed he had an affinity for jewelry, but his jacket and boots had been taken from someone’s corpse as well. And, recently, he started bringing them back for you as well. 

Your bloody fingers were littered with several rings, a bracelet on your right wrist, and your ears decorated in earrings - some of which he had pierced himself. And now, the necklace.

It left your stomach in knots when he did this, you couldn’t help but think about the bodies abandoned in the woods that he had slaughtered every time the metal glinted back at you. Each piece felt like another shackle keeping you at his side. 

The worst part was that you never tried to run. Jungkook never tied you down to anything or bound your wrists or feet. He simply knew that you would never try. It would be idiotic for you to try and run, you knew he was a talented tracker - he would be able to find you within minutes of your escape. There was nowhere to run and nowhere to hide from him, he would always be able to find you.

And so, you had become his plaything. His dinner and now his doll, a weak body that he could play with and decorate to his greatest desires whether that be with a corpse's jewelry, or a litany of scars.

“Pretty,” He said, his voice deceptively soft as he grazed the skin of your neck, his fingers moving from the clasp of the necklace to trace over the scarred imprints of his fangs and teeth.

You were thankful that he wasn’t hungry.

The odd, calm atmosphere between the two of you was quickly dissipating. Jungkook shifted away, agitation clear on his face as an annoyed growl parted his lips. You flinched back against the wall, scooting away to stay out of his path. 

This wasn’t unusual - he had been having rapid mood swings lately.

The few moments of peace the two of you would share were often interrupted by the sudden pained twist of his features - his eyebrows drawing together and his nose scrunching in a snarl. It almost looked like he was in physical pain despite there being no signs of any injury.

And then, the pacing would start. It was like watching a caged lion sweep the perimeter of their enclosure. Back and forth, slow and menacing steps. It was like he was looking for something, or trying to guard the two of you from someone else. You hadn’t dared to ask what he was doing, to be entirely honest you tried your best to avoid initiating any interaction or conversation with him at all. The few times you did speak to him, it was usually to beg for him to leave you alone, pleas that often fell on deaf ears. 

You didn’t know what to do with this. When you first “met” him, he had been sadistic, like a zealous child with more power than they knew what to do with. He had wanted to play his sick and twisted games with you and the plan had always been to gorge himself on your blood and leave your mangled corpse deep in the forest to wither and return to the earth. That was what was familiar to you, that was what you were expecting. 

You were never supposed to live, that had been an unfortunate circumstance, a split decision he made to prolong your torture and pain. You didn’t know what you were supposed to do with this suddenly quiet, confused, and barely human creature in front of you. One that would rip open your flesh to feed just as soon as he would leave bruising kisses on your lips and throat, painting the flesh a rich red that was left to rust.

You were waiting for him to snap, waiting for it to all finally be over. But that would be luck, luck that you didn’t have. He had promised you, so long ago, that you would never be alone again, that he would keep you. And you have suffered the consequences ever since.

When he said your name you felt your blood freeze over. He had never said your name before, you didn’t even know that he knew it. He had always called you that horrific pet name, his little mouse.

You wrapped your arms around your legs, pulling them into your chest in an attempt to feel some sense of security as he continued to speak. 

“We’re leaving soon.” He said, the words simple but the expression on his face ever so complex. Reluctance, frustration, pain, anxiety.  

You swallowed, but did not move. The silence was deafening. But, by the look on his face, you knew that he was waiting for your response. You would have to break the stalemate. 

“Are you…taking me home?” You dared to ask, your heart thundering in your chest as that predatory gleam returned to those red eyes. 

“No,” He growled, his jaw clenched as his fangs ground against his lower set of teeth, “You’re not going back there, ever.”

Your heart shattered. 

“I’m being called back to my home.”

His home? This was the first that you were hearing of it, you never stopped to ask yourself if he had a home. You couldn’t picture it even if you tried, it was a puzzle piece that simply didn’t fit. You had always assumed he was simply a nomadic creature that moved as he hunted. And, due to his supernatural nature, it seemed that he never needed the typical human necessities and comforts such as four walls and a roof. 

You knew he had some sort of family at the very least. You had, after all, had the displeasure of meeting Hoseok who had referred to himself as his brother. And he had mentioned the name Namjoon, the phrasing suggesting a hierarchical structure. But even the notion that he had a family felt just as mismatched. And how ironic it was that he was returning home to a family he didn’t even want, and he wouldn’t let you go home to the family that you missed so much. 

“And that’s bad?” You hesitantly asked, flinching as he growled in frustration. 

“It’s worse than bad!” He yelled, his hands sliding through his hair in stress, “It was difficult enough fending Hoseok off, but all six of them? You’re as good as dead.”

Hope.

“Then…don’t go?” You said, although it sounded more like a question. By the way he was acting, it was like returning was not a choice. 

“If only it were that easy,” He laughed, the sound bordering on being unhinged. “I can’t ignore it, if I’m called I have to answer. If I don’t it becomes more and more persistent. It feels like a cord that grows tighter and tighter until it pulls and my body moves on its own and takes me back.”

That explained the pacing, the restlessness his body had been experiencing. He had been trying to redirect it by walking the perimeter of the decrepit cottage but it had been a temporary fix to the problem. You could only assume that he was getting to the point now where his body was ready to return against his will. 

How horrible it was, to be someone’s unwilling puppet. You knew that feeling all too well. 

You didn’t know what you were supposed to tell him. There were no choices to be made by the two of you. He would have to return, and he wouldn’t leave you here on your own as he knew you would be given the greatest opportunity you have ever had to leave him. So, he would have to take you with him right into the lion’s den where you would undoubtedly be consumed.

He was mumbling to himself now, his pacing becoming more frantic and much faster, your human eyes struggling to keep track of him. You were sure that he was moving so fast he would wear down the old floorboards beneath him and the soles of his beat up boots.

You could only assume that meant the call was becoming even stronger. Before - it was asking, now it was commanding.

You had never seen him so frantic before, those wide blood red eyes unblinking and shifting back and forth faster and faster as his thoughts raced. It was borderline demonic, like something you would see during a paranormal movie or an exorcism. It was terrifying. 

You began to scoot back as far away as you could until your spine was flush with the wall behind you. You felt better with some part of you concealed from the open, but that did little to calm your racing heart and the creature that raged in front of you.

What was he so afraid of, so panicked by? You couldn’t imagine anything scaring him, not with how terrifying he was on his own. What could be so bad, so scary, that it frightened a monster? You weren't sure you wanted to find out, even if it meant you could finally feel the sweet embrace of death and escape him once and for all. 

Jungkook finally came to a stop, his body still but his eyes continued to move erratically. And then they too settled, and a look of deadly calm settled over them. He had decided something, and you were certain that whatever his decision was it wouldn’t be good for you. 

“They wouldn’t,” You heard him mutter to himself, “Not if I put a fail safe if place.”

A fail safe?

Before you could even blink he had moved across the room, faster than your eyes could track. Your body had been ripped away from the wall and set in between his legs, your spine pressed against his chest, the both of you seated on the ground.

An uncontrollable wail shook your body, the sound emanating a feeling of pure hopelessness. You had been surprised it came out of you, but you knew why. You were terrified he was going to feed from you again. 

His one arm was wrapped around your ribs, his legs tensed and forcing your own to squeeze together. He had immobilized you, there was nowhere else you could go and no way to escape him. 

Your entire body shook and heaved with hysterical breaths as you writhed in his grip. “Please, please don’t do it again I can’t take anymore of this!”

He hushed you, his free hand brushing over your hair in a surprisingly gentle manner. It was more like someone who was trying to calm a startled stray animal than anything else. His touch moved to your chin, lightly taking hold of the point where your neck and jaw bone met.

He didn’t say anything, instead he forced you to look at him, turning your face so that he could look directly into your eyes. And then, to your shock and horror, he plunged his fangs into his own wrist and ripped the flesh wide open. A torrent of thick, viscous, black blood rolled down the pale flesh of his forearm. And before you could do or say anything he grabbed you by your hair and jerked your head back before pressing his open wound to your mouth. 

You gagged at the smell and taste, tears blurring your vision as you tried to move your head away but he did not budge. His arm around your ribs finally moved but only to help him pry your jaw open and force the blood flow down your throat. He continued to hush you as he forced you to drink, gently rocking your body in stark contrast to the harsh and violent hold he had you in. 

“Just relax,” He whispered against the shell of your ear, “The more you struggle, the longer I’ll keep you here. We need to get as much of my blood as possible into your system.”

You were crying even harder now, the salt of your tears slipping between his wrist and your lips and mingling with his blood in your mouth. What had you ever done to deserve this? What horrible thing had you done in some past life to deserve this kind of punishment?

You just wanted to go home. You wanted your mom and dad, your grandparents, and the gentle comfort of your bed in your childhood room. You wanted that life back, and you were never going to have it again. 

His harsh grip on your jaw loosened as you went limp in his arms, resigning yourself to your inescapable fate. His hand returned to those soothing strokes against your hair, a low hum in his chest vibrating against your back as he watched you feed from him with a curious gaze. You were such a weak little thing, you needed him more than you would ever understand. 

You hiccupped pathetically when he finally removed his wrist from your mouth after what felt like hours. Your lips and chin were stained black from the blood he spilled when you had struggled. He stared at you again, curiosity evident in his gaze, as he leaned forward and licked the flesh of your lips, tasting his own blood.

You shivered as he made a soft hum, cocking his head to the side before doing it once more, stroking over the bitten and chapped skin with his tongue as he transitioned into kissing your battered lips in a grotesque act of intimacy. He laughed against your mouth as you weakly pushed against his chest, he was amused by your pathetic attempts to push him away. It only encouraged him to kiss you harder and deeper, sampling the taste of his own blood straight from your mouth. 

Once he was satisfied he finally allowed you to breathe, a devious gleam in his eyes that you had not seen in a long time. 

“They won’t be able to kill you for a while now, not unless they want another vampire to worry about.” He said. He was gloating, reveling in the win his family had no idea he had already achieved.

Your blood ran cold, your body freezing at his revelation. The very thing you craved, your own death and by association freedom from him, would be the very thing that would trap you with him for the rest of eternity. If you were killed with his blood in your system, you would become one of them. He truly had taken everything from you, even the dignity of your own death. Your life was his and his alone.

He really was a monster.

His features suddenly twisted in pain, his head jerking to the side as he released a low and threatening growl. The call was becoming even stronger, the most intense it had ever been. There was no more delaying it. They had to go, and they had to right now. 

He quickly lifted you into his arms as his body began to move on its own, forcing him to begin to move in the direction of his home. There was nothing more that you could do, all you could do was remain limp in his arms. It was over, there was point in fighting anymore.

He had finally broken you. 

When he stepped outside you were shocked by the fresh air and the cold weather. Then again, you always feel cold now. The clouds were thick today, the sun hidden behind their cover. It had been so long since you were outside, and even longer since you had been in the sun - that wouldn’t change in the near future. But what truly shocked you, was that the world went on without you. The seasons continued to change, the flora continued to flourish and then decay. The cycles continued while you were stored away. How cruel the world was to keep going on as you withered away. 

You leaned your head against his shoulder, shielding your face from the harsh wind as he began to move faster, running at his impossibly fast pace that no human could ever wish to match. How had so much changed? When did you go from human being to a play thing for a monster like him. You had a life, but now it had become inconsequential, toyed with and thrown away like it never even mattered.

What were you supposed to do now? At the end of the day, it didn’t really matter. He had won, he had played his sadistic stupid games with you, and he had won. He had broken you. You tucked your chin into your chest and like the pathetic creature that you were you whimpered.

You cared about what was going to happen next. If Jungkook had been wrong, then the two of you walking into the proverbial lion's den would end with you turning into one of them, a fate worse than any other that you could imagine. To be tied to him for all of eternity would be your personal hell on earth. 

What would they do to you when you got there? Would your death before your next life be slow and torturous, or quick and merciful? Would it be planned and intentional, or accidental? 

Jungkook began to slow, his fast pace relaxing into a natural walk. The tension that previously rested in his body had begun to dissipate. You could only speculate this was the relief of obeying the command to return home. His control over his own body was slowly but surely coming back to him the closer the two of you came to his home.

He stopped for a moment, placing you down on your own two feet before he took hold of your wrist and forced you to follow after him. Your knees wobbled beneath your weight, unaccustomed to you standing after being curled up in a ball in that abandoned shack for the longest time. You looked more like a baby fawn learning to walk than you did that meek little mouse Jungkook always thought you were. He, however, paid little attention to you at that moment. He was tense, his body in a state of alert as subtly surveyed the area as you continued on. 

He could sense something that your dull human senses weren’t entirely picking up on. However, the hair on the back of your neck prickled and your gut twisted as you felt phantom eyes digging into your body. 

Someone, somewhere, was watching you. 

A building began to break through the cluster of trees. A modern, contemporary house in the middle of the forest was coming into view. This was the last place you thought of when Jungkook had mentioned his home. In all honesty, you would have been less surprised by a crypt and a row of coffins.

In front of the house, stood a man. His arms were crossed in front of his chest, his eyes that familiar shade of deep burgundy, the same shade the monster’s eyes were when he was hungry. This sent chills throughout your body, your entire being sensing the danger in the vampire that stood across from you. 

Those burgundy eyes swept towards you, a look of shock and confusion discoloring their once calm gaze that you speculated was rarely rattled. His features twisted as he took in the state of you, the dried human and vampire blood that coated your body in thick layers, the dirt that was caked into your clothing, your hair that needed to be washed, and the smattering of scars that decorated your body and glistened in the cloudy daylight. 

You were barely human anymore, you were a walking corpse.

“You called me home, Namjoon.” Jungkook simply said, his body moving to shield you from the other vampire's gaze.

“Jungkook,” Namjoon said, utter disbelief tinging his words, “What are you doing to her?” 

In every possible scenario you had conjured in your mind, this had not been one of them.

Sympathy.

_______

The Story of Us

Pairing: Mahwa Character!Min Yoongi x Reader

Summary: You wake up in the body of the second female lead in a manhwa, determined to rewrite your fate. No longer willing to be trapped in unrequited love for the elusive main lead, Min Yoongi, you set out to change the ending of the story. But leaving him behind isn’t as simple as you thought. As the lines between fiction and reality blur, the narrative begins to shift in unexpected ways—Yoongi, who was once only devoted to the main female lead, starts to see you in a new light. Can you escape the cycle of heartbreak, or will you find yourself entangled in a love story you never asked for?

or in which Yoongi found out you aren't from that world and refuses to let you leave.

Warnings: Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Mention of death, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: Happy 6k to me!!! It's finally here. Those who already read the unedited fic know the scenes I added here... I went crazy again and wrote additional 3kish words. I hope you enjoy!

“Does self-love mean nothing for you?”

You commented lightly at the second female lead as you flipped the page. In your hand was the manhwa your friends were gushing about. They went on and on about how dreamy the main lead was for weeks and how annoying the second female lead was until you finally gave in and went to a bookstore one late night. The cover was unassuming, a mere illustration of a man with dark hair and a milky white skin. Despite the chatters of the few customers, it was like it all went silent when you held the manhwa in your hand. You had no rationale as to why you were staring so hard at the main lead, nor why you felt a jolt of electricity when you traced your finger on his face.

The sudden and inexplainable zap of electricity was enough for you to put the manhwa back to its shelf where it belonged. You had enough for today, you thought. It must be your late nights that finally got to you. You turned and started to walk away when you heard someone called your name.

“Are you not going to buy that?”

You blinked owlishly, turning to look your surroundings before realizing that the voice had come from behind you where an old woman with a pleasant smile on her face stood. You didn’t hear her walk, sure that it was only you in that section of the bookstore.

“Excuse me?” you asked in confusion with her sudden question.

She offered you a smile before reaching for the manhwa you were touching moments ago. “This. Are you not going to buy this?”

You glanced at the book in her hands, the cover innocuous enough—a pale-faced man with dark eyes, his expression unreadable, a haunting sort of beauty that seemed to shimmer under the dim light of the store. The same man whose face had burned into your mind the moment you’d traced your finger over it.

"Huh?" you muttered, not entirely sure what to say. "Oh, no... I—" You fumbled with your words, caught between politeness and that unsettling pull you couldn’t deny. “I’m just looking.”

She tilted her head slightly, her smile never wavering, but there was something deeper there now—an unreadable warmth and perhaps... a warning? "Such a shame. This is the last piece," she continued, her fingers running over the cover with a tenderness that made your heart race. "Are you sure you don’t want to enter his universe?"

You stared at her, perplexed. The bookstore was quiet again, save for the soft hum of the air conditioning and the distant murmur of other customers. But it felt like there was something else in the air now—something heavier. More alive.

As if on cue, your phone buzzed in your pocket, breaking the strange tension that had settled between you and the clerk. You fumbled it out, your heart still racing. It was a text from one of your friends: "Did you finally get the manhwa? He's sooooo hot, right?!?"

You looked from your phone to the manhwa and there it was again. It was like something was calling you to touch the book. On the other hand, your flight or fight instinct had never been this high, urging you to walk away as soon as possible. The old woman’s gaze never left you, her expression still serene, as if she knew exactly what you were thinking. The tension between you felt palpable, like a tether was drawing you back to the book, back to the man on the cover.

"You know what, dear," she continued, her voice now almost conspiratorial, "since we're almost closing, it’s on the house. Let me wrap it up for you."

When you asked her why, it was a line you should have taken in face value.

She said that reading this will change your life.

All that was how you found yourself on your bed with the manhwa and feeling bad for the second female lead. Okay fine, she was not exactly kind. She was a bit bitchy and the typical rich kid who fell for her childhood friend who of course, fell for another woman below their stature. She devised devious ways to get the main female lead out of their lives which only managed to push Min Yoongi, the male lead character, away from her. She wanted him so badly, and she had nothing else to cling to. In the end, he left her alone when all she had was him.

She was left alone, Yoongi gone from her life, and all she had left were her schemes and bitterness. You couldn’t help but wonder what she could have been if she had just let go. If she had let him go, instead of holding on so tightly that she suffocated herself.

She wasn’t a villain, you told yourself, though you knew she was far from a saint.

It wasn’t that you were defending what she did. It was just that you felt for her, strangely. You had no family of your own too, and maybe that was why you held on to your friends. You thought that if you were as pretty and as wealthy as her, then you wouldn’t spend all your time and energy pining after Yoongi. You thought about her—so pretty, so polished—and you wondered, If I were her, would I have acted the same way? If you had that beauty, that wealth, that presence, would you still feel this same deep ache for someone who couldn’t love you back? Sure, he was all that. He was handsome, smart, and so manly. For a while, it was just the two of them in their little world until he met the female lead. But then again, if you were her, you would let them be and look for someone who would love you as you were. Surely, there was someone out there for her. You wondered if it would be easy to just walk away, you thought. But then, you didn’t know what it was like to have everything and still lose the one thing that mattered most. To feel like there was no one left who could make you feel whole.

The story was so intriguing with the right amount of suspense that kept you up all night. Despite you being a non-mahwa reader, you could not bring yourself to stop reading until you reached the ending.

The words of the final chapters echoed in your mind as you read through them. Yoongi’s happiness came at her expense, and as you turned the page, you saw the final blow: She died. She died because Yoongi decided to save the main female lead from drowning instead of his childhood friend. Just like that. No grand redemption, no change of heart. She was gone. “Of course, she dies,” you murmured in annoyance as you flipped the page. “Was that really necessary for this Yoongi to get his happy ending?”

You put the manhwa down on your chest and looked up at your bedroom ceiling. You felt tears forming in your eyes and before you knew it, they were streaming down your cheeks and onto the manhwa. “Poor you. You deserved better,” you whispered as sleep took you away.

You didn’t remember falling asleep, but the next time you opened your eyes, it felt like you were in a dream. More precisely, you woke up to a familiar room. You just couldn’t place it yet where you saw this room before. You sat up from the most comfortable bed you had ever been on, your eyes roaming over the whole room. Where were you?

You looked down and noticed that you were wearing a silk sleepwear…You didn’t own this. In fact, you never liked it because you couldn’t afford it. Did someone dress you in this? Were you kidnapped?

Panic surged through you like a wave, a cold knot tightening in your stomach. The thought alone pushed you to stand up quickly, your head turning rapidly to every corner of the room when a mirror across the room caught your eye. You walked over, unsure of what you were even looking for, but the reflection that met you made your heart stop.

Holy shit.

You froze in front of the mirror, your breath caught somewhere between disbelief and panic. The face staring back at you was undeniably familiar but was definitely not yours. It was her—the woman from the manhwa.

Your hand lifted slowly, as if drawn by an invisible force, and touched your cheek, tracing the delicate curve of your jaw. The reflection mimicked your every move, except there was no mistake: it wasn’t you. This version of you was flawless—her skin porcelain smooth, her lips full and painted in a soft, understated pink. You blinked hard, willing the image to change, but it remained the same, impossibly perfect.

And then it hit you, harder than any realization should have: You were in her world. You were in her body. You were the second female lead.

What the fuck was this dream?!

You pinched yourself, willing yourself to wake up from this peculiar dream where you were not you, and instead, you were someone of a fictional character. All that it did was reddened her fair skin. You truly tried not to panic, but no one and nothing could have ever prepared you from waking up in someone else’s body! More so of a fictional one. Similarly, you knew this could not be possible. You must have been dreaming.

You were just dreaming…right?

The knock on the door snapped you out of your stupor, your mind reeling as the panic tightened its grip.

“Miss? Sir Yoongi is here to see you,” the voice outside the door called, timid, hesitant.

You blinked, the words barely registering at first. Yoongi? No. No, no, no. Your heart dropped to your stomach, and the world around you seemed to tilt at an impossible angle. You opened your mouth to respond, but all that came out was a shaky, disbelieving breath.

"Y-yoongi?" Your voice sounded strange, foreign in this body, yet with an edge of authority, the voice of someone accustomed to being looked at, obeyed.

“N-no. Why?”

“T-to visit you, Miss. He went straight here from the airport after his three-month work in New York,” she explained with a terrified tone in her voice as though one wrong word would upset you. It did upset you upon horrifying realization that you were in the first chapter of the manhwa. He was coming to see the second female lead, the one who would only ever be a part of his life for the briefest, most painful moments. The one who would disappear when the main female lead entered the picture, leaving behind nothing but heartache and regret.

This was the moment—the beginning of her unraveling. The beginning of your unraveling.

You stumbled back from the mirror, almost tripping over the hem of the silk nightgown that clung to your skin. It felt wrong. This wasn’t your body. This wasn’t you. You couldn’t be her. You couldn't.

But there you were—she was—standing in front of a mirror, and it was your face that stared back, the same face that would soon be abandoned in favor of the main lead. The face that would die tragically, just as Yoongi chose someone else.

A cold sweat broke out on your skin as you pressed your hand to your chest, feeling your heart race, the pulse throbbing in your throat. The maid outside the door was waiting. She was waiting. Yoongi was waiting.

“Miss? Are you coming?” The maid asked again, sounding more nervous now. “Sir Yoongi is waiting.”

You felt your legs walked to where the door was as though they had a mind of their own, as though they were simply following the plot where you had to face her childhood bestfriend, as though you had no choice in this. The door creaked as it slowly opened, and the maid stepped back with a small, nervous bow. “Miss,” she murmured softly, her eyes flicking between you and the hallway.

There he was. Yoongi. Standing in the hallway, waiting for you.

His broad back was turned to you, his focus was on the huge window overlooking the garden below. His hands were in his pockets. You couldn’t help but notice the bags of designer clothes and jewelries beside him. It was always like this. Yoongi would spoil her with everything, his love a quiet promise wrapped in material things. His affection was given in expensive packages, just because he missed her. It was a thing the main lead, Yoongi, and her had for the longest times. He spoiled her rotten, and in turn, she loved him unconditionally until he realized that it wasn’t her love that he wanted. It was someone else’s.

You felt your chest tighten as you stepped forward, closer to him. And then, slowly, he turned around, his gaze landing on you, his eyes sharp and calculating, as though he was seeing you for the first time. He was just as handsome as you'd imagined, his sharp features bathed in the soft light of the chandelier overhead. His expression, however, was unreadable—his usual aloofness on full display. He had on a simple black jacket, the sleeves rolled up slightly, revealing his forearms.

He was standing there, just as he had been in the manhwa—distant, untouchable, and perfect. The kind of person who seemed to have everything. Everything except the one thing that would make him whole. His lips curved into a faint smirk, the usual aloofness settling over him like a second skin. Yoongi. So damn confident. So certain of himself. Yet there was something flickering beneath that exterior, something you couldn't place.

He took a step toward you, his gaze unwavering, and for a moment, everything felt too heavy, too real. The space between you both seemed like an eternity, but somehow you couldn’t move. You couldn’t breathe.

He raised his brows when you remained motionless – so dissimilar to how the second female lead threw herself in his arms in the first chapter. “What?” he said, his voice a quiet challenge. “Didn’t you miss me?”

His words hit you like a cold wave. Didn’t you miss me?

The phrase was so familiar, but it made you flinch. It was the same thing he had said to her. The second female lead. Her. The woman you had now become. You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. Your breath caught in your throat, the weight of his gaze leaving you paralyzed. How were you supposed to feel? What was the right answer?

Yoongi’s smirk deepened as he took another step closer, his presence commanding the space between you both. He wasn’t giving up.

“Aigoo,” he muttered, as though your silence had amused him. “Is my princess mad at me?” He reached out, cupping your cheeks in his hands and squishing them gently, his thumb brushing across your skin in a familiar, playful gesture. “I promise I won’t be away for that long again, okay?”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. My princess. Mad at me? It was just like the manhwa. Just like how the second female lead had fallen for him—how she’d craved his affection, how she had convinced herself that he was the only one who could make her whole.

How could she not fall for him? How could she not love him when he was this—this?

See, who wouldn’t fall for that? You understood the second female lead for falling in love with him, or why she did all those terrible things when he suddenly withdrew all his affections from her. But maybe…you could change the ending. Maybe you could find a happy ending of your own away from him. You could choose differently. You could walk away. You could find your own path, away from him, away from this tragic loop. Maybe—just maybe—there was a way for you to have a happy ending. Not the one written in the manhwa, but one you could choose. One where you didn’t lose yourself in the love of a man who could never return it.

What if you and him could all have your separate happy endings?

But also, what if this was just a dream where you’d wake up later and be in your own bed?

It was almost a week later when you realized that this wasn’t a dream. Despite repeatedly pinching yourself, you still couldn’t wake up from this nightmare. You hadn’t gone out of your room since Yoongi visited, and all messages and calls from him were promptly ignored.

You couldn’t even rule out that you were actively going insane because there was no way that this was now your reality. Something inside you was telling you to do something. It was urging you to fight, to survive, not matter how difficult it would be. It was proven when he visited you and you had no control over what happened. However, you also noted that you could do things somehow differently like not hugging him when he visited, or not being affectionate to him.

There were canon events, yes. There were things that should happen as were already dictated by the manhwa. But you also had a will in this story. And if there was a chance that this was your new reality, then you would do absolutely everything to make sure that you end up living.

You had to be smart. You had an edge, you surmised. You read the entire manhwa and you knew what was going to happen. You knew what to anticipate. And the next scene? The next scene was where Yoongi met the female lead and it would be in a charity ball you and him were attending.

You were dressed to the nines, your makeup was impeccable. Around your neck was one of the second female lead’s extravagant necklaces. The dress that she chose was immaculate, a light-colored floor-length gown that would later on be ruined by the female lead’s accident in the ball. You looked down from the unfamiliar eyes staring back at you in the mirror as your maid informed you that the car was waiting downstairs. You got this.

You weren’t used to her life of extravagance and you could feel a shot of anxiety pumping in your veins as the car neared the event. You could see reporters and cameramen lining up to capture the entrance of the wealthiest of the wealthiest. Nothing in your life could have prepared you for this. You were not a confident person…but she was. You only needed to get through this night and then slowly let the events happened. You would let the two of them fall in love with each other like it needed to be.

“We’re here, miss,” your driver announced, meeting your eyes from the rearview mirror. You took a deep breath and counted to three.

1…2…3-

The door opened and just when you opened your eyes, there he was.

Camera flashes illuminated the scene from his back, yet his focus was on you. His hand was outstretched, waiting for you to reach for it. But damn it, Min Yoongi was impeccable. Just like you, he was dressed to the nines with his tailored dark suit and his brushed up dark hair. He was the epitome of what a main lead should look like. Still, you couldn’t fault both the main and second female lead for falling in love with that face. If only you weren’t trying to stay alive, then you would most probably fall for that face, too.

Too bad you were trying to stay alive.

The weight of the moment settled heavily on your chest as you stared at his outstretched hand. The flashes of the cameras were relentless, their bursts creating a kaleidoscope of light and shadow that painted Yoongi's face with an almost ethereal glow. His dark eyes bored into yours, and for a split second, the world seemed to pause.

You hesitated, your hand hovering just out of reach. This was one of those moments, wasn't it? One of the canon events you couldn’t avoid. Taking his hand was expected, a necessary step to ensure the night unfolded as the manhwa demanded. Yet, the knowledge didn’t make it any easier.

“I don’t think you can hide from me now, princess,” Yoongi’s voice was soft but firm. In fact, there was no annoyance in his tone, only a quiet patience as though you didn’t spend the past days dodging him in every turn.

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to push past the whirlwind of nerves. You had to remember who you were now—or at least who you were pretending to be. She wouldn’t falter, wouldn’t hesitate. She was poised, confident, the kind of woman who could command a room with a single glance. She was a woman who knew the power she had over society.

Plastering on a polite smile, you placed your hand in his. His fingers were warm, steady, and for a moment, the contact felt grounding. You couldn’t help but notice how his hand completely engulfed yours, how he made your hands seemed dainty in comparison to his. He helped you out of the car with a practiced grace, his touch lingering for a fraction longer than necessary. You didn’t want to dwell on the fact that you felt the same electricity that you did when you first touched the manhwa.

“Shall we?” he asked, his voice low enough that only you could hear it.

You knew you had no choice as he guided you up the grand entrance. This was a canon event. The canon event leading up to their meeting. You had to play your part if you wanted to not experience dying in her body.

The flashes of cameras almost blinded you had it not been for Yoongi’s broad back that shielded you from them. The two of you stopped in the middle to smile for the camera, a PR thing Yoongi had to do for his company. His hand rested on the small of your back, gently pushing you closer to him. You knew what would happen like the back of your hand, and just as written, one of the reporters asked him to define his relationship status with you.

She’s the most important woman in my life.

“She’s the most important woman in my life,” Yoongi declared with unwavering sincerity, his deep voice resonating through the flashes and murmurs of the crowd. As he looked down at you, his lips curved into that signature, disarming smile—the kind that could melt even the coldest of hearts.

The ball was just as grand as you imagined. It was apparent that the rich spared no expense in this and you couldn’t imagine that you would experience this in your life. Yoongi’s gaze lingered on you, an unreadable expression flickering in his eyes as he watched you take it all in. There was something almost amused about the way he observed you, though he said nothing. It was almost comical to him how you were impressed with this when the friend he knew practically grew up in this extravagance. You were in awe at the intricate details, the food and drink being served, and the expensive jewelries that would be auctioned tonight.

“What do you want me to bid for?” Yoongi asked, his voice low and smooth as he tipped his wineglass to his lips, his dark eyes not straying from you.

You let out a short chuckle, already knowing what to say. “I want that old ring the Queen once owned,” you answered monotonously. It was the most expensive item in the auction, and exactly the kind of thing the second female lead would desire. You, on the other hand, felt that it was ridiculous to desire something that was given by someone who dearly loved the Queen. Yoongi merely lifted his dark brow before nodding his head.

As always, her will was always his command– until it wasn’t.

The bidding war for the final piece, the ring, didn’t take that long as Yoongi continuously bidded ridiculously high amounts that the businessmen could not keep up with the younger man. Yoongi didn’t even flinch as the bids shot up. He stood there, effortlessly cool, his back straight and shoulders squared, his eyes locked on the auctioneer like a predator stalking its prey. The others tried to keep pace, their offers becoming desperate, their faces flushed with a mix of anger and humiliation as Yoongi continued to raise the stakes, his voice cold and assured as he increased his offer without hesitation.

In the end, Yoongi won. And it showed with the way he turned back to you, that same smirk still dancing at corner of his lips.

This was it.

This was the moment.

Yoongi was walking to you, his expression still that of a triumphant victor as he made his way to you. You couldn’t help but keep your eyes to him. The way his dark eyes were trained on you was captivating and you were captivated. It was as though you were the only one in this room to him, like all other people could disappear and he wouldn’t even blink. In fact, you were too captivated that you almost forgot what the next scene was.

But just as was written by the author, a waitress tripped, your light-colored dress now splashed with red wine, a stark contrast. The sound of glass breaking, the accident itself, was enough to silence the whole ballroom. Your mouth hanged agape as you looked down at your dress, and then slowly, you lift your eyes to the waitress.

Your eyes met the female lead’s. Hers was comically wide as she continuously apologized to you, her expression that of panic as her manager and more people flocked to where you were.

“What happened?” Yoongi’s voice was sharp, his usual calm replaced by a low, controlled edge. His hands clasped your arms with a firm but steady grip, his gaze darting between your face and the ruined fabric of your gown. The pristine, light-colored dress was now stained with crimson, the deep red wine soaking into the fabric and spreading like an ominous bloom.

Your eyes flicked back to the waitress—her—the female lead. Just as the manhwa dictated, there she was, the unassuming heroine, standing in front of you with wide, tear-filled eyes. Her cheeks flushed crimson as she stammered apology after apology, her hands trembling as she bent down to pick up the shards of broken glass at her feet. You saw her flinched.

“I—I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to! Please forgive me, Miss!” she pleaded, her voice shaky and sincere. The panic on her face was painfully familiar. You’d read this scene before. You knew every word, every gesture.

And yet, being in it now, living it—felt different.

Your dress was ruined, yes, but more importantly, this was the moment. The one where Yoongi, the ever-distant, untouchable main lead, would first notice her. Where his protective instincts would be stirred, his curiosity piqued by her clumsy, honest nature. This was where it all began—their love story.

Except right now, he wasn’t looking at her. He was still looking at you

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice quieter now, his brows furrowed as his thumb lightly grazed your arm, checking for any sign of injury. There was no recognition in his gaze for the woman kneeling at your feet, no acknowledgment of her presence.

You blinked, caught off guard. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. By now, he should have been helping her, offering her a reassuring smile, gently lifting her to her feet. That was what the script demanded

But here he was, his focus entirely on you.

“I…” Your voice faltered as your mind raced to adjust. You needed to steer this back on track. The story needed to progress, or everything could spiral out of control. “I’m fine. It’s just the dress,” you said, forcing your tone to be light, dismissive, as though the ruined gown didn’t matter.

Yoongi’s lips pressed into a thin line, his gaze hardening. “It’s not fine,” he said, his voice firm. He turned, his sharp eyes landing on the waitress. The poor girl visibly flinched under his scrutiny, her hands freezing mid-motion as she tried to gather the broken pieces.

“It was an accident,” you said quickly, stepping forward and placing a hand on his arm to stop him. “Yoongi, it’s fine.” Your words were deliberate, almost desperate. You needed him to look at her, to notice her, to play his part in the story.

He hesitated, his jaw tightening, but at last, his gaze shifted to the waitress. There it was—that flicker of recognition. The moment his eyes softened, his expression melting into something less severe.

“Are you hurt?” he asked her, his tone still carrying a note of authority, but the sharp edges were gone. This was it—the moment you’d been waiting for.

The girl shook her head quickly, her cheeks turning an even darker shade of red. “N-no, sir! I’m fine. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“Enough,” Yoongi interrupted gently but firmly. He crouched down, his movements slow, deliberate, as he began picking up the shards of glass alongside her. The room seemed to collectively hold its breath, all eyes on the enigmatic businessman lowering himself to help a clumsy waitress. “Be careful. You’re going to hurt yourself,” he said with a much softer voice. His gaze lingered on her face, and it was apparent that you were now forgotten.

And there it was—their first connection. The moment the story truly began.

You exhaled slowly, stepping back as the crowd around you began to disperse, the murmurs of the guests returning to their usual buzz. This was how it had to be. You just had to step back now and let their love story grow.

You reached the balcony and you thanked heavens that you were alone. You breathed a sigh of relief, both for the gratitude that you were alone and for surviving that scene. You were looking up at the stars when you felt a suit jacket landed on your shoulders, safely engulfing you with warmth and against the cold night.

You turned, not knowing who to expect but he was definitely not it. You didn’t even know who he was.

The handsome man met your eyes before flashing you a charming smile of his own that was enough to disarm you. “What a shame…”

You blinked, confused by his sudden appearance, your heart still racing from the scene inside. "What is?" you asked, voice quieter than you'd intended, as your eyes darted back toward the ballroom doors.

"That your dress was ruined," he said smoothly, his tone playful, though his eyes seemed to hold something more—curiosity, maybe, or perhaps something deeper. "You were the most beautiful girl there. You managed to catch everyone’s attention when you entered the room– including mine."

Sputtering at his confidence, you felt your cheeks heated up from his statement. “Were?”

The side of his eyes crinkled as he looked at you. He couldn’t believe that the elusive and untouchable you were giving him the time of the day. You were always in Yoongi’s orbit, and everyone knew how powerful his family was. It was always the two of you in your own little world, and Yoongi was seldom far from you. It was the reason why suitors couldn’t reach you. No one needed the Min Yoongi for an enemy.

It was safe to say that the relationship between the two of you were always a question mark to the onlookers. In the world of the rich, the two of you should have been long engaged if that was the case. And a chance that Yoongi was far from you was not to be wasted. And so, he took the chance.

“You still are,” he breathed honestly. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you. You were so magnificent and he understood why Yoongi was similar to a guard dog when it came to you. He extended his hand to you. “I’m Kim Taehyung.”

You only had to wait, but the waiting got boring. When you’d read the manhwa, the pacing had felt seamless, the love story unfolding with a rhythm that kept you turning the pages. Here, however, their love story took time.

It turned out that not only were you bored, but you were also extremely wealthy in this life. You rationalized that it would be okay to enjoy her life just a little.

Leaning on the balcony railing, you released your fifteenth sigh of the day, staring blankly at the sprawling estate below. Behind you, the ever-dutiful maid hovered, hands clasped nervously in front of her. Her expression flickered between concern and trepidation, as though bracing for one of the infamous tantrums her mistress was known for. Lately, though, you’d given her nothing of the sort—no sharp words, no impatient outbursts. That, in itself, seemed to unsettle her.

However, another sigh from you finally prompted her to ask you what was wrong.

Her eyes widened, startled by the question. “I… I suppose I’d pay off my family’s debts,” she admitted, voice small. “It’s been weighing on us for years.”

“How much?” you asked, your tone casual, as though inquiring about the weather.

“Three million,” she murmured, her cheeks coloring as though the very amount embarrassed her. “But I couldn’t possibly—”

“Consider it done,” you interrupted breezily, waving off her protests. “Next?”

“Maybe…I’d go to Paris?”

You nodded, your eyes gleamed as the spark of inspiration ignited within you. A brilliant, slightly impulsive idea. “That’s perfect. Grab your passport.”

It turned out that Paris was also someone’s favorite place.

You were sitting in a café one late afternoon, willing the time to pass by quickly so you could return to your life as evidenced by your poor attempt at reading a book when the chair in front of you was suddenly occupied. With your peace suddenly gone, you looked up and met his eyes. He was smiling at you, his dark hair brushed away from his face, so dissimilar to how formal he looked when you met him.

“We must stop meeting like this.”

He chuckled at your expression before he leaned in on the table. “In Paris, of all places. I have to say, this is starting to look like fate.”

Who was he exactly?

You tried to rack your brain of his scenes in the manhwa, and you had been ever since you met him in that ball. He wasn’t supposed to be in the scene…or was it possible that that happened behind the scene when the focus wasn’t on you, but on Yoongi and the female lead?

“Do you believe in fate, Mr. Kim?” you titled you head in curiosity, looking at him intently for any sort of familiarity that may come your way.

“I do and I don’t. I think that fate is an abstract concept that no man can ever define. There are some things that we are just too powerless to stop; and there are some things that we are too powerful to accept,” he stated with a smile on his face. “You’re here because of fate, Y/N. Don’t you think so?”

“What?”

Taehyung chuckled and patiently waited as the waiter placed his cup of hot chocolate on the table. “I think that you’re fated to be here at this exact moment.”

“What are you saying, Taehyung?”

“I’m saying, have dinner with me tonight.”

It was your second week in Paris when curiosity finally got the better of you. On the other hand, you could say that the past few days were one of the most interesting days of your life. You never knew that that little dinner with Taehyung could result to you gaining a true friend here. He was interesting, quirky, wise, and full of life. You also learned that he went to the same school as the original second female lead and Yoongi attended, and that he could never befriended you before because Yoongi was always with you. He offhandedly noted that it was so rare for him not to be with you when before, wherever you went, he would follow. Speaking of the character that you assumed, her phone—your phone now—sat untouched on the marble nightstand of your hotel suite. You’d avoided it so far, reasoning that it felt like rifling through a stranger’s diary. But tonight, as the soft glow of the Eiffel Tower illuminated the room, you gave in.

Plugging it in, the device vibrated to life, and a flood of notifications lit up the screen. Your jaw dropped slightly as you skimmed through the endless stream of missed calls and messages. Most of them were from Yoongi.

“Of course,” you muttered under your breath, scrolling through the list. There were texts, voicemails, and even some emails from him, all timestamped over the last two weeks.

His messages started casual enough, asking you where you were and if you were still avoiding him. He even stopped by the mansion only to find out that you weren’t there, let alone in the country. Not one in your mansion could tell him where you were despite his endless threats. As days passed by, however, his tone shifted to frustration.

I’m not kidding anymore. If I don’t hear from you, I’m coming to find you.

I am hiring a team to find you, princess.

His final message was dated today.

I do hope you remember that it is my birthday today. We always celebrate it together. We’re not gonna stop now just because you’re hiding from me.

You stared at the phone for a moment longer, the screen dark now but somehow still demanding your attention. Should you respond? What would you even say?

The phone vibrated in your hand, the screen lighting up with his name. Your stomach did a little flip, but you shook your head firmly. No. You weren’t going to answer. It was better this way—for him, for you, for the storyline. Yoongi belonged with the female lead, and the longer you stayed out of their orbit, the better. If you wanted to live, you had to do the opposite of what the second female lead did.

Instead, you grabbed your jacket, ready to explore the city some more with Taehyung. Paris was too beautiful to waste time fretting over a fictional man’s messages. Let Yoongi wait.

But just as you opened your hotel room, there he was with his signature stoic face, his dark brow raised. He pointedly looked at your phone, his name on the screen. He had his phone on his ear, while you had yours in your hand. You were literally caught red-handed ignoring his calls.

He ended the call with a deliberate tap and tucked his phone into his pocket, his gaze never leaving yours.

“Going somewhere?”

“What are you doing here?” you asked, shocked at his sudden appearance. He was supposed to be with her. The story said that he was supposed to be with her, celebrating with her, saving her from any other accidents or situations she found herself in. You did your part by staying the hell away from them….so why was he here?

Yoongi tilted his head slightly, his gaze narrowing. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” His tone was calm, but the edge was unmistakable. He stepped inside as though he owned the place. He didn’t ask for permission, didn’t wait for an invitation. He was just… there, filling the room with his presence like he always did. “And Paris, of all places? You’re more predictable than you think, princess.”

“I-I mean, I didn’t think you’d notice,” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper, already regretting how ridiculous it sounded.

“What? How could I not? You literally disappeared on the face of the earth. You think I wouldn’t notice when you disappeared? When you’re not there?”

The intensity in his gaze left you momentarily stunned, your thoughts scrambling for coherence. “Y-you’re not supposed to be here…” you muttered, more to yourself than to him. Your disbelief bled into your words, your mind struggling to reconcile his presence with what you knew—or thought you knew. “The story says you’re supposed to be with her. This isn’t—this isn’t how it goes.”

“What story?”

You blinked owlishly, realizing what you’d said. “Huh? Nothing!” you exclaimed a little too quickly, waving your hands as if to physically push the moment away. “Anyway! Happy birthday!” you added, your voice unnaturally bright, hoping to distract him.

His squint deepened, a mix of curiosity and frustration flickering in his eyes. He clearly didn’t buy your deflection, but he let it slide—for now. Without a word, he crossed the room to the small bar cart in the corner, casually pouring himself a glass of whisky.

The tension in the air was thick as he swirled the amber liquid in the glass, his movements deliberate. He raised the glass to his lips, his gaze never leaving yours. You could practically see the wheels turning in that intelligent brain of his as he sized you up. After taking a slow sip, he finally spoke, his voice low, “Glad you remember my birthday, princess.”

Okay, fine. You were at loss. How were you supposed to know what you should say? This was not in the manhwa! Yoongi was basically going off-script!

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. Instead, you turned your gaze to the door, silently willing him to leave. But Yoongi didn’t move. If anything, he seemed more determined, his presence as unyielding as ever.

“Fine,” he said after a long moment, his voice quieter now, almost resigned. “If you won’t come back, then I’ll stay. Paris is nice this time of year, isn’t it?”

He stuck by you like a shadow and he all but bought the entire hotel floor. He was adamant on spending every moment with you. The most baffling part? He still kept in touch with her. He called, he texted, he checked in on the female lead—but here he was, right beside you, refusing to leave. It made no sense. To add confusion to the mix, Yoongi kept on shooting dark glares at your phone whenever it chimed from Taehyung’s messages and he felt himself getting irritated. He wondered who was brave enough to message you when no one used to before except him.

You had been away for him for just a short time and yet, he felt like you were so far away already, like something shifted, like your entirety changed. It was like you were not the best friend he used to have.

You looked down at your phone as soon as it chimed again and you couldn’t help but chuckled at the silly selfie he took with a duck. You were too engrossed in your phone that you missed the way Yoongi gripped his utensils. You and him hadn’t spent time together since you were so busy evading him and now that he finally caught up with you, your attention was somewhere else.

Why were your attention not on him?

Who was stealing your attention away from him?!

Was this how you punished him because of his current fling?

The sound of Yoongi’s sharp exhale pierced the air, and you glanced up just in time to see his fingers grip the edge of his glass with more force than was necessary. His jaw was tight, his eyes narrowed—not at the phone in your hand, but at you. He didn’t say anything, but the silence between you both was thick with something unspoken, a tension you had been drowning in since he followed you here.

It wasn’t that you wanted to ignore him, but the truth was... you didn’t know how to deal with this version of Yoongi. The one who wasn’t following the script. The one who was here in Paris, beside you, watching you laugh at Taehyung's ridiculous duck selfie like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“What’s so funny?” Yoongi’s voice was quiet, but it was sharp. He didn’t bother to look at your phone. Instead, his gaze stayed locked on your face, his eyes a shade darker, deeper than you remembered them being.

You blinked, momentarily stunned by the sudden shift in his mood. “Oh, nothing, just a ridiculous selfie from my friend,” you said, still chuckling to yourself. “He’s with a duck.”

“He?” His voice held a dry amusement, but there was an edge to it that made you uncomfortable.

You could feel the subtle tension thickening in the air, like the weight of a storm about to break. Yoongi's question hung between you like a spark in dry tinder. You shrugged, pretending to be casual, though the hairs on the back of your neck stood on end. "Yes, he. My friend Taehyung," you said, not looking up from your phone.

But you could feel Yoongi’s eyes boring into you, every syllable of his next words like a tightening coil. “Taehyung,” he repeated, his voice cold and deliberate, as though testing the name on his tongue. His grip on his glass had tightened to the point where his knuckles were white, but it didn’t stop the slow, calculated sip he took, his gaze never leaving you.

The way he said his name made it seemed like your friendship with him was a mistake, a simple blunder on your end that shouldn’t have happened. It did feel like you stepped on a live mine, and you wondered why you were feeling like this when from what you knew about his character in the manhwa, Yoongi was a pure person. However, right now he felt like a dangerous one.

What were you supposed to do?

“You’re thirty now,” you said instead, steering the conversation away from an unfamiliar territory as you placed the phone facedown. The two of you were having brunch in a famous restaurant and you were thoroughly enjoying the croissant moments before the conversation turned sour.

He regarded you for a moment, fully aware of how you this was your sad attempt at changing the subject until he decided to put you out of misery. He nodded, waiting for you to make your point.

“You’re not getting any younger-”

He raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. “What’s the point of this conversation, princess? You’re starting to sound like my grandma." He paused, as if savoring the thought. "By the way, she keeps asking for you. Says, and I quote, ‘her favorite grandchild never comes to visit anymore.’ Not even a phone call. Meanwhile, I’m still here, the actual grandchild, and I get nothing."

His glare was sharp, but there was no real venom behind it—just the familiar teasing edge that made you both roll your eyes and laugh, despite yourself.

“W-well! I’m just concerned that you won’t have a wife and any children of your own and that you’d grow old alone! I’m just a friend expressing concern over her best and oldest friend…” you rationalized. Fine, you were having fun teasing him while nudging him in the right direction. Yoongi was fun to mess with, you thought, if he was being himself and not the confusing and quite off-putting mood he was in a while ago.

You thought that he would react the way you anticipated him to, that he would get defensive and after which, hopefully, that he’d go back to their love story.

He did none of those things.

Instead, Yoongi leaned in, his manly scent permeating. He tucked a stray strand of your hair behind your ear, all while looking at you. “Why are you saying that I’ll be alone when I have you?”

You blinked, trying to process what Yoongi had just said. His voice, low and warm, carried a weight that wasn’t there a moment ago. You wanted to laugh, to brush it off like the teasing banter you two always shared, but the way his dark eyes held yours made it impossible. “I have you for always, right, princess? You’re not going to leave me for someone…beneath us, right?”

What?

His words seemed like he was pointing to another thing, like what he was asking you was a promise to be set in stone and not a mere assurance on his part. What was the real second female lead to say in situation like this?

“O-of course! We’re best friends! N-now let’s get out of here. I saw this beautiful necklace in that shop. It’s going to look beautiful on her. Maybe if you buy her that, then she’d forgive you for spending your birthday away from her,” you joked to deflect him, standing up and gathering your purse to escape the situation you found yourself in before he could even blink.

Think, Y/N. Think.

You gripped the stem of your wine glass, staring blankly at the flickering candle in the center of the table. The plot was veering off course, drifting further from the original narrative you knew by heart. Yoongi wasn’t supposed to be here with you, his steady presence upending the delicate balance of the story.

The main lead wasn’t supposed to stay by your side like this

Across the room, Yoongi was speaking with one of his father’s acquaintances, his posture relaxed but exuding the quiet authority that came so naturally to him. It gave you a few precious moments to breathe—and to think.

Ever since Paris, Yoongi almost never let you out of his sight. He would spend every free time of his with you. You couldn’t even refuse because he would get so suspicious. His best friend never said no to him, he knew that. Your previous actions of distancing yourself from him resulted in him latching on to you. What could you do to push him in the right direction which was to be with her?

What was the next canon event?

And then it hit you.

The company gala. The turning point. That was when he would bring her, the female lead, into the lion’s den. His family’s icy disapproval, their sharp-edged words of disdain, and their outright rejection of his choice would culminate in a dramatic declaration. Yoongi would stand by her side, rebel against his family, and announce that she was the one he wanted to marry.

It was a pivotal scene. A non-negotiable in the grand arc of his story.

You exhaled shakily. If you could just steer him toward that event, everything will fall back into place. You just needed to figure out when it was happening now that the timeline was unraveling in ways you couldn’t predict.

You just had another problem, though. The man that was now walking back to you was acting like someone who had his heart set on another, so unlike the Min Yoongi from the manhwa who only had eyes for her. His attention was unwavering, but it should not have been pointed to you but to her. The way his gaze softened whenever he looked at you, his refusal to leave your side—it was all wrong. None of it fit.

“Sorry about that,” Yoongi’s voice broke through your thoughts as he returned to the table. He slid back into his seat, his sharp eyes scanning your face. “You okay? You look… distracted.”

You forced a smile, waving a hand dismissively. “I’m fine. Just lost in thought.”

“About what?” He tilted his head, genuinely curious, and the warmth in his gaze made your stomach twist. He did hope that your attention was not being diverted by someone he didn’t even want to mention. He couldn’t even understand why the thought of you with someone else didn’t sit right with him. He couldn’t understand why he had this urge to remove the pest away from you.

“Doesn’t you company have an annual gala? I was thinking of what to wear. When is it again?” you asked, taking a sip of your drink to hide your nerves.

He was looking at you as though deep in thought, as though you were forgetting something. He tilted his head to the side, “You know it’s always in December. You always choose your dress a year in advance, princess,” Yoongi said, his voice laced with mild curiosity. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as he studied you. “Why? You’ve never been one to care much about those kinds of things before.”

Your breath caught at his words. You always choose your dress a year in advance, princess. The familiarity, the ease with which he said it, threw you off. That line—it didn’t belong here. Not in this timeline. Not in this version of the story where your role was supposed to be temporary, a placeholder in the grand narrative between him and her.

“Right,” you said, forcing a light laugh that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Guess I forgot for a moment. Been busy, you know.”

Yoongi didn’t buy it. His gaze sharpened, a hint of amusement mingled with curiosity. “You? Forget? That’s not like you.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, his posture relaxed but his eyes piercing. “What’s really going on?”

The intensity in his gaze made your stomach twist again. Stay calm. Don’t let him see.

“Nothing’s going on,” you said, a touch too quickly. You took another sip of your drink, using the motion to avoid his eyes.

“Anyway, December’s coming up fast, and I’m guessing you’re planning to bring her, right?” You kept your tone light, as if the question didn’t weigh heavily on your chest.

Yoongi’s expression shifted, the smirk fading as his brows furrowed slightly. “Her?”

You swallowed hard. “You know… the one you’ve been calling and texting all the time.” You gestured vaguely, hoping to seem indifferent. “The woman you’ve been—well, I thought you were planning to introduce her to your family at the gala.”

Yoongi smiled again, but this time, it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Let’s see, princess.”

“Admit that you had fun,” Taehyung teased you as he drove you home.

You couldn’t help the smile that crept across your lips. Against all odds, you’d genuinely enjoyed yourself. You did have fun. You always thought that movie dates were boring and full of cliché, but not with him. With Taehyung, everything felt effortless—light and uncomplicated, like breathing.

“Fine,” you conceded with mock reluctance, your tone carrying the weight of faux irritation. “It was a fun…”

“Date,” he finished smoothly, his eyes glinting with amusement as your voice trailed off.

Your cheeks burned at his audacity, the straightforwardness of the word stealing your ability to respond for a moment. A "date"? Could you even call it that? The way your heart fluttered betrayed any argument you might have tried to form.

You glanced away, fidgeting with the strap of your bag as thoughts tangled in your mind. Was it okay to feel this way? To bask in fleeting moments of happiness when the life you were living wasn’t truly yours? When you were still determined to set things right, to restore the balance of a narrative that had gone astray?

So caught up in your musings, you barely noticed the car slowing to a stop in the estate’s driveway. The towering grand doors loomed ahead, a stark reminder of the world you’d return to the moment you stepped out.

“Thank you,” Taehyung’s voice pulled you from your thoughts. It was quiet, genuine, and when you turned to look at him, his face was softer than you’d ever seen it.

“For what?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“For being here,” he replied simply, his gaze holding yours.

The weight of his sincerity pressed against your chest, making it harder to breathe. Before you could respond, he leaned in, closing the distance between you. The world seemed to slow as his hand moved to cup your face, his fingers brushing against your skin with a tenderness that made your heart stutter.

Your breaths mingled, your eyes fluttering shut as his lips hovered so close to yours it was almost unbearable. You could feel the moment hanging on a fragile thread, teetering on the edge of something irreversible.

The room’s golden hues seemed to dim as the sound of the car horn echoed through the driveway, shattering the fragile intimacy between you and Taehyung. You jolted back, your heart pounding in your chest as if caught in an act of betrayal—though you hadn’t technically done anything wrong. Yet.

Taehyung sighed, his expression softening as he glanced toward the car behind him. “Looks like your knight in shining armor doesn’t know how to wait,” he said lightly, though there was a hint of tension in his voice.

You managed a shaky laugh, your hand gripping the strap of your bag tightly. “He’s just… overprotective.”

“Right,” Taehyung said, leaning back in his seat. His eyes met yours, warm and understanding, but with a flicker of something else—something that made your chest tighten. “Still, I meant what I said. Thanks for tonight.”

Before you could respond, the honk came again, sharper this time, as if Yoongi were making a point. You turned to glance at his car, the sleek black exterior glinting under the estate’s lights. Even from this distance, you could feel his piercing gaze locked on you.

“Goodnight, Taehyung,” you said hurriedly, fumbling with the door handle.

Taehyung smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes this time. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

You stepped out of the car and started toward the grand door, the cold evening air biting at your skin. Yoongi’s car door slammed shut behind you, and the sound of his footsteps was a quiet storm approaching. You didn’t dare look back, your heart a riot of guilt, frustration, and confusion.

“Princess,” Yoongi’s voice cut through the quiet, smooth and controlled, but laced with an edge you couldn’t ignore.

You stopped in your tracks, turning slowly to face him. He was already close, his dark eyes scanning your face like a puzzle he couldn’t quite solve. His suit was immaculate, as always, but there was an undercurrent of tension in his posture—shoulders just a little too stiff, jaw a little too tight.

“You’re back late,” he said, his tone deceptively casual.

“I went to see a movie with Taehyung,” you replied, keeping your voice neutral.

At the mention of Taehyung, Yoongi’s gaze flicked past you to the car that was now idling at the end of the driveway. You followed his line of sight and felt a pang of unease as his expression shifted. His brows raised slightly as he studied Taehyung through the window, his head tilting just enough to convey an air of quiet disdain.

And then he smirked—a slow, deliberate curl of his lips that sent an unfamiliar shiver down your spine. It wasn’t the Yoongi you were used to seeing. In that moment, he was something else entirely: sharp, commanding, almost cruel. The kind of presence that demanded submission without a word.

“What did you say his last name was, princess?” he asked, still watching Taehyung with that same unsettling smirk. His tone was light, but there was something in it—something dark—that made your heart beat faster.

“Kim?” you replied thoughtlessly, your mind too preoccupied with wanting to escape the tension. “Why did you ask?”

Finally, he turned his attention back to you, his gaze softening just enough to make the moment feel surreal. The shift was so subtle, so practiced, that it left you second-guessing the sharpness you’d just seen. He reached out, his arm sliding around your shoulders with an ease that felt both natural and calculated.

“No reason, princess,” he said smoothly, steering you toward the grand doors of the estate. “Just… curious.”

The warmth of his arm contrasted sharply with the coldness that lingered in the air. It was disarming, the way he could shift so easily between roles—between the man you knew and the one you weren’t sure you ever wanted to meet again.

As he guided you inside, you cast one last glance over your shoulder. Taehyung’s car hadn’t moved, the figure inside still watching. You couldn’t see his face, but you imagined the tension mirrored your own.

When the doors shut behind you, the weight of Yoongi’s presence beside you grew heavier. His hand rested lightly against your shoulder, his touch far gentler than the unease simmering just beneath the surface.

"Don’t you have better things to do than come to my dress fitting? Like, I don’t know, actually run your empire or something?" you asked, stepping out of the fitting room with a huff.

Yoongi sat sprawled on the plush sofa, one arm draped lazily along the backrest, a glass of champagne balanced effortlessly in his other hand. He looked utterly at ease, as if this boutique was his second home and not a place he had followed you to.

He shrugged, “Well, we can’t have you running away from me again, can we?”

“For the last time, I didn’t run away! I was in Paris because croissant sounded nice that day-”

“Sure, princess,” he agreed condescendingly. Yoongi’s gaze swept over you, lingering a moment longer than you expected. “On the other hand, you look immaculate in that dress,” he said, his voice low and smooth. “You’re going to make the rest of the gala feel underdressed.”

Heat crept up your neck at his words, but you quickly masked it with a scoff. “Flattery doesn’t suit you, Yoongi. Save it for the boardroom or—better yet—for her.”

He raised an eyebrow, swirling the champagne in his glass as if you hadn’t just tried to divert the conversation. “Her?” he echoed, tilting his head with mock curiosity.

You rolled your eyes, refusing to meet his gaze. “Yes, her. The one you met in the previous ball? The waitress? The one you’ll be introducing to your family at the gala, remember? Does she ring a bell?”

“We’re still talking about that?” Yoongi asked, his tone laced with amusement as he leaned back into the plush sofa. The glass of champagne in his hand tilted slightly, catching the light as he swirled the golden liquid. “Why are you so invested in my relationship with her?”

“I’m just concerned and curious as a friend.”

He chuckled softly, setting his glass down on the table beside him. “Curious, huh? And here I thought you were just jealous.”

Your eyes widened in disbelief. “Jealous?”

Yoongi leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees, his gaze never leaving yours. “You keep bringing her up. You’re obsessed with the idea of me introducing her to my family, of me texting her. You sure this isn’t just about you not wanting to share me?”

Your face burned, and you turned away, pretending to adjust the dress in the mirror. “You’re ridiculous and I refuse to discuss this further,” you muttered. “I’m going to buy this!” You announced before stalking back to the fitting room to avoid wondering about why your heart was skipping a beat and why you shouldn’t venture into that.

You were huffing as you tried to reach for the zipper behind you when the curtain suddenly opened and Yoongi stepped in, making the room felt impossibly small. You instinctively turned your back to him, clutching at the unzipped dress as though a protection against whatever this was.

“What are you doing here?!”

Yoongi leaned casually against the side of the fitting room, his smirk firmly in place. “Helping you, obviously,” he said as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“I don’t need your help!” you snapped, tugging at the zipper yourself but struggling to reach it.

“Doesn’t look like it,” he said smoothly, taking a step closer. His fingers brushed against yours as he gently moved your hand away. “Relax, princess. I’ll take care of it.”

You froze, your heart pounding as his hands moved to the zipper. His touch was surprisingly delicate, his fingers grazing your back as he carefully pulled the zipper up. The sound of the zipper seemed deafening in the silence.

“There,” he said softly, his voice low and close to your ear. “All done.”

You were about to turn around when he stopped you. You met his dark eyes through the mirror, and the intensity in his gaze held you captive. His hands lingered lightly on your shoulders, warm against the smooth fabric of the dress. There was something unreadable in his expression—a mix of curiosity, amusement, and something far deeper that you couldn’t quite name.

“You’re very beautiful, princess. Do you know that?” he whispered, resting his chin on your delicate shoulder.

“Yoongi, what are you doing?”

He was quiet for a moment as though in contemplation whether to say what he wanted to say. Like in the manhwa, Yoongi was calculating. He never did anything without a reason, one of which would benefit him. “I had a nightmare the night after the ball,” he finally confessed, his voice low and almost distant, as if recalling something that lingered in his mind. “We were on the yacht. I think it was a party. You were there… She was there. I was there. And the yacht… it slammed into a rock. The two of you were thrown off.”

If he felt your body went rigid, he didn’t mention. He never broke eye contact, his arms around your waist as he told you of his dream. The one exactly what happened in the manhwa– the one where the main lead chose to save the main female lead first, only to find out the it was already late for the second female lead.

His body was so close that you could feel the slight tremble in his arms as he spoke, his fingers grazing your waist with the same careful intensity.

You met his gaze in the mirror again, and something twisted in your stomach. There was an almost predatory look in his eyes, but there was something else too—something far more vulnerable, raw. He didn’t break eye contact, and his grip on you tightened just slightly, as though he wanted to hold on, as though he was afraid you’d slip away.

“In my dream,” he continued, his voice barely a whisper, “I saw you die because I saved her first. It felt so real, like I was remembering something that already happened.” He paused, and you felt the weight of his words sink in. “Why would I save her first when I know I can’t lose you?”

 “It’s just a dream…” you tried to console him. How could he remember something that happened in the ending? Was the barrier between the characters and the plot weakening? What was changing? And how could you go back to your own world when he was holding onto you so tight as though if he looked away, you’d disappear?

“It is, right? It’s not going to happen... I’ll make sure of it.”

December came.

It was the month you were both dreading and anticipating. You were almost at the end of the story, and so far, you did your absolute best to let their love story unfold without a second female lead antagonizing it. You did your part by staying away from them. One problem though, the male lead was not acting like he was written in the manhwa. He was not acting like a man in love should be to her. Instead, he was out there sticking to you like

It was safe to say that Min Yoongi went rouge.

You did not know what to expect in the annual gala. You no longer have the upper hand. You were in the blind as though you were a real character and no longer a reader. You feared that the longer you stayed in this fictional world, the more likely that you’d be incorporated in the story and no longer as a second female lead that could just easily disappear.

You needed answers on how to escape from this fictional world. Answers eluded you. Worse still, so did the only person who seemed to see you for who you were. Taehyung. Since that night, not once did Taehyung answer you calls nor respond to your numerous messages. You tried asking your trusted staff about him, but even they were mummed. It was only your closest maid who whispered to you what transpired and how Taehyung’s budding business empire had crumbled overnight, crushed under the weight of lawsuits—tax evasion, fraud, and other accusations you couldn’t fathom. The news left you hollow. You hadn’t seen this coming. The man who had been your one source of normalcy, the one who made you feel like a real person instead of a pawn in someone else’s story, had disappeared into the shadows of scandal. You thought to yourself that maybe you really didn’t know him at all and that it was best to just focus on how to once and for all, leave this universe.

But who could you ask?

You continued anxiously tapping your heels on the marbled flooring, observing the guests. You were in the corner, trying to hide in the shadows so you could freely look for her. He would be bringing her, right?

Where is she?

Your eyes scanned the room again, trying to keep your presence hidden in the shadows. The guests were mingling, lost in the glitter of conversation and champagne. Laughter bubbled up in the air, but none of it felt real. Not like it should have. None of this was real, in fact. This was a fictional world where you were stuck in.

You wondered what would happen if you stopped playing her role. But before you could dwell on that thought, the door opened again, and you stiffened. You were expecting to see the main female lead, yet instead, it was Yoongi. The man of the hour. He entered the room and all the guests he passed greeted and congratulated him for setting another record in his empire, yet his eyes always returned to you. Where was she? This was not supposed to be like this. Yet, you knew in the back of your mind that something integral changed. You were in denial about how you no longer had control over this, that you might as well be truly in the story now, no longer an observer, no longer able to hide behind the pages of the manhwa.

You stepped back involuntarily, no longer feeling the courage you had faked for so long. You lost control. You had to find a way out. However, when you slipped away and turned the corner, you bumped into an old, yet dignified woman. You bowed in apologies when it dawned upon you.

You have seen her before.

Slowly, your eyes lifted to hers. You knew her. She was the woman who gave you the manhwa… How was she in this world?!

Your mouth hanged agape as the corner of her lips lifted, her eyes crinkling when she saw the dawn of recognition on her face. “I told you reading it will change your mind.”

“It’s you,” you whispered, taking an unsteady step back. Your eyes darted over her, as if trying to piece together a puzzle that didn’t belong in this world. “H-how… How are you here? What’s going on? Y-you have to help me. Why am I here? How can I leave?!”

She studied you for a moment, her gaze steady, unreadable. “You’re here because someone wants you here, dear.”

“I don’t want to be here! I want to go back.”

Her head tilted slightly, her calm demeanor unwavering. “But why? What do you have in your old life that you so desperately want to return to? Aren’t you alone there? Didn’t you have no one to love you?”

“That’s not the point!” you shot back, a tremor running through your voice. “And it’s not different here. No one loves me—no one even knows the real me.”

Her smile deepened, a glint of something—mischief, perhaps?—in her eyes. “Ah, but who do you think was desperate enough, filled with enough sorrow, to pull you into this universe?”

Your breath caught, confusion clouding your mind. “I… I don’t understand.”

“When she died,” the woman began, her voice lowering, as if unveiling a truth long buried, “the manhwa ended. But did you think the characters would simply cease to exist? No, dear. They continued, burdened by the pain of their story. Yoongi was devastated. He regretted everything—every word, every choice, every moment that led to her death. He mourned her. His sorrow was so great, it transcended the story’s limits and reached you.”

Your head spun. “Me?” you repeated weakly, disbelief dripping from your voice.

“Dear, you are her. Just in a different universe. It’s the reason why you sided with her, why you felt for her, why her character called on you, why her pain felt like your own. You are her.”

“I don’t want to be her,” you said, the words tumbling out in a rush. “I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t choose this. Please—just send me back to my own universe.”

The woman sighed, her expression softening, though her eyes retained their strange, knowing glimmer. “The only way out,” she said slowly, “is through. The manhwa will only release you when its story ends. And you know how it ends, don’t you?”

A cold realization began to settle in your chest. “When he marries the female lead,” you murmured, dread weaving through every syllable. Your words hung in the air, heavy and final.

The sharp sound of footsteps echoed down the corridor, breaking your trance. You barely had time to gather your thoughts before a familiar voice cut through the suffocating stillness.

“There you are. I’ve been looking for you. What are you doing here?”

Yoongi’s low, commanding tone sent a jolt through you, but it was his grip—firm but not harsh—as his hand closed around your arm that made your breath hitch.

You turned to face him, his dark eyes locking onto yours. They were intense, holding a darkness that made your stomach churn. Something simmered beneath his composed exterior, something unsettling.

“How long have you been standing there?” you asked, your voice unsteady.

His lips quirked into a small, unreadable smile. “I just arrived, princess,” he said, the pet name rolling off his tongue like silk. “What are you doing here? Alone?”

“I…” You hesitated, your mind racing for an excuse. “I was just talking to—”

When you turned back, the old woman was gone.

Your heart sank, panic surging through you. The corridor where she had stood moments ago was now empty, as though she had vanished into thin air.

Yoongi frowned, his grip on your arm tightening slightly. “Talking to who?” he pressed, his voice dropping.

You forced yourself to meet his gaze, but the weight of it was crushing. “No one,” you said quickly, your voice barely above a whisper. “She must’ve left before you got here.”

Yoongi looked down at you, his expression calm, his gaze steady. Yet, something about the way he held himself—the deliberate gentleness, the faint curve of his lips—made unease coil tightly in your chest. A part of you whispered that this tenderness was a mask, that he wasn’t as naïve or benign as he seemed.

But then he smiled.

It was a tender smile, soft around the edges, and for a fleeting moment, your doubts dissolved like mist under the morning sun.

“Let’s get back to the party, princess,” he said, his voice a soothing balm against the tension humming in your veins. “Your parents arrived.”

Your steps faltered. “My parents?”

The mention of them sent a jolt through you. They were a peripheral presence in the story, barely more than a footnote in the manhwa’s narrative. They were always overseas, managing their company, distant figures who left their daughter to fend for herself. Their absence was a plot device, a catalyst for your dependence on Yoongi.

But now, they were here.

“W-why are they here?” you asked, your voice trembling despite your effort to steady it.

Yoongi stopped walking, turning to face you fully. His expression didn’t change, but there was something unsettling in the way his eyes softened, like he was trying to calm a skittish animal. “Don’t worry about it,” he said, his tone quiet yet resolute.

The words only made your pulse quicken. He offered his arm to you, his demeanor so effortless, so composed, as though he hadn’t just upended everything you thought you knew about the storyline. “Shall we?”

Were you imagining things, or were the guests’ gazes lingering just a little too long as you and Yoongi re-entered the ballroom? Conversations paused, eyes flickering in your direction, a murmur of whispers spreading like ripples across the sea of elegantly dressed attendees.

Yoongi, as always, was composed. His hand rested lightly on the small of your back, guiding you through the crowd with an ease that belied the tension curling in your chest. You tried to focus on the glittering chandeliers, the music, the familiar opulence of the space, but the weight of the stares made it impossible.

“There’s our little girl!”

The warm, dignified voice cut through the hum of the crowd, pulling your attention to its source. Your mother stood near the edge of the room, resplendent in a gown that rivaled the grandeur of the occasion. Her face lit up with delight as she strode toward you, arms outstretched.

“Y-you’re here…” you stammered, shock rendering you momentarily immobile as she pulled you into an embrace. Her movements were graceful yet firm, as though she’d been waiting for this moment.

“Of course, we’re here,” she said, stepping back to study your face, her smile warm but tinged with something calculating. “Why wouldn’t we be? It’s not every day that our dear daughter gets engaged.”

Your heart raced, panic rising as you tried to process what was happening. “I… I don’t understand,” you managed, your voice trembling as you looked between your parents and Yoongi.

Yoongi stepped closer, the warmth of his hand on your back turning into a subtle yet firm pressure. His voice dropped to a low murmur, meant only for your ears, as his sharp eyes held yours in an unrelenting gaze.

“It’s all been arranged, princess,” he said softly, his words almost tender but laced with steel. “Your parents and mine have been discussing this for some time. They thought tonight was the perfect opportunity to make it official.”

Your heart pounded in protest, the world around you narrowing to just him and the enormity of what he was saying. “I didn’t agree to this,” you said, your voice trembling but resolute. “This is wrong! You don’t want this, Yoongi. You have her. And I—”

“You what?” he interrupted sharply, his eyes narrowing. “You have Taehyung?”

“No!” you snapped, shaking your head. “This isn’t about him. This is about them deciding for us. This is about tying your life to mine when you don’t even want to!”

He tilted his head slightly, his smirk returning but without any real humor. “Who says I don’t want to?”

“Yoongi—”

“Look, princess,” he cut you off, his voice soft but commanding. “We just have to act like we’re going along with this. Just pretend. Can you do that for me?”

Your breath caught, and you searched his face for some hint of his true feelings. But all you found was a calm determination that left you more uncertain than ever.

The murmur of the crowd reached you, the polite applause growing louder as you turned toward the center of the room. Yoongi extended his hand, his posture exuding confidence and charm as he guided you toward the raised platform where your parents and his waited.

The spotlight followed the two of you as you ascended albeit reluctantly, every step feeling heavier than the last. The room seemed to hush, the weight of their expectations bearing down on you.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Yoongi began smoothly, raising his glass in a toast. His voice carried easily, commanding the attention of the entire ballroom. “Tonight is a special night, not just for our families, but for me. I’m honored to announce my engagement to this incredible woman beside me, my childhood best friend, the only woman who have never left my side. I cannot live without her, and soon, I’ll never have to.”

The applause erupted, deafening and overwhelming. You felt trapped, the walls closing in as Yoongi turned to you, his smile perfectly composed for the crowd.

“Shall we make it convincing, princess?” Yoongi murmured, his voice low and unreadable, carrying a weight you couldn’t quite place. 

Before you could respond, he cupped your face with a gentleness that felt at odds with the deliberate precision in his movements. His touch was warm, grounding, yet it sent a jolt through you—a mix of dread and something far more dangerous. 

Your breath hitched. 

Never in your wildest dreams did you think Min Yoongi—the composed, untouchable Min Yoongi—would lower his head to capture your lips. Even more unthinkable was the way his kiss shattered every expectation, unraveling something deep within you. 

Yoongi kissed like a man starved. His lips moved against yours with a consuming intensity, a hunger that left no room for hesitation. It wasn’t gentle or tentative; it was deliberate, almost punishing. He took and took, claiming you with every movement of his mouth. His tongue brushed against yours, coaxing and demanding at the same time, leaving you breathless. 

His free hand cradled your face, tilting it to him as if to ensure you couldn’t escape—not that your body seemed capable of responding. Your knees felt weak, your heart thundered in your chest, and the noise of the crowd faded into an inconsequential blur. 

For a moment, there was only him. 

The crowd erupted into applause, the sound jolting you back to reality. The cheers and whistles surrounded you, the noise pressing in like a tidal wave. You blinked, realizing that your hands had gripped the fabric of his jacket, as though anchoring yourself to him. 

Yoongi pulled back slowly, his gaze locking with yours. His eyes were dark, burning with something you couldn’t decipher. His lips curled into a faint, triumphant smile, as if he knew exactly what effect he’d had on you. 

You barely had a moment to catch your breath before he took your hand in his. The velvet box you hadn’t even noticed being opened now sat empty in his other hand. And then, before you could process what was happening, there it was—a massive diamond glinting on your finger, its size almost blinding under the ballroom lights. It was familiar. How could it not when it was the same ring he won in the auction?

Why did he have this now? When was this entire fiasco prepared?

Your chest tightened as you stared at the ring, the weight of it feeling heavier than it should have. 

Yoongi raised your hand, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, his gaze never leaving yours. To the crowd, it was the perfect picture of a devoted fiancé. But to you, it was something far more unnerving. 

“You wear it well,” he murmured, his voice low enough that only you could hear. 

The applause swelled around you again, the sound nearly deafening as you tried to steady your racing thoughts. 

This wasn’t part of the story. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. 

But Yoongi, ever the master of control, seemed to have rewritten the script entirely. And you were left standing in the middle of his narrative, unable to tell where the performance ended and the truth began.

The evening air outside was cool and calm, a sharp contrast to the warmth and chatter of the grand party you had just left behind. As the crowd dwindled and the night settled, Yoongi offered you his arm, escorting you toward his sleek black car. His movements were unhurried, deliberate, and his dark eyes lingered on you for a moment longer than usual.

The night seemed to be endless. You were never left alone even for a moment. You wanted nothing more than to lie down and plan your next step. You had to, or else you were stuck here.

“I’m sorry I missed your speech,” you said as the car pulled away from the glowing mansion. “I’m sure it was great.”

He glanced at you, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “That’s fine. You’ll always be here to hear my next speech anyway.”

You returned his smile, but it was brittle, not quite reaching your eyes. Had your plan succeeded, this would be one of your last moments with him. You’d return to your world, leaving this Yoongi—and this universe—behind. The thought tightened something in your chest, but you pushed it aside.

“I’m sorry about the sudden engagement, princess.” His voice was soft, laced with what sounded like regret, but his eyes told a different story. “My hands were tied. Our families went behind our backs, and I couldn’t do anything about it.”

Lies. All of it.

What you didn’t know was that Yoongi had orchestrated everything. He had whispered into the right ears, pulled strings behind the scenes, and crafted a perfect storm to ensure this engagement would bind you to him. He didn’t care what the truth was, whether or not you were from this world. He cared about one thing only—keeping you by his side.

Something in him had shifted the moment he realized how easily you could slip away. The very idea of losing you—to this world, to Taehyung, to anything—was unbearable. It drove him to actions he never thought himself capable of, cruel and unapologetic. Taehyung was out of the picture now, his budding empire crushed under the weight of scandal. Yoongi had ensured that, and he felt no remorse.

What mattered was you.

You offered him a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes because if what you were planning was successful, you’d return to your own world and he’d be left in this universe. Yoongi quietly offered you a champagne as the driver smoothly drove back to the mansion.

“Are we celebrating something?” you asked, eyeing the sparkling liquid.

“Just…for always, princess,” he said softly, the words carrying an undertone you couldn’t quite place.

You hesitated, but took the glass, sipping the sparkling liquid. The conversation flowed effortlessly, a dance of shared humor, mutual interests, and a surprising depth of understanding. With each exchange, you were reminded of why you had felt drawn to Yoongi in the first place. For all his intensity and mystery, he was undeniably charming, and being with him felt easy in a way you hadn’t expected.

The spirit of alcohol definitely made you forget about the ruckus that happened tonight. If he said that he didn’t have anything to do with it, who were you to question him when he was characterized in the manhwa as someone who was good?

Your conversation with him was fun. It was grounding.

Until the world began to tilt.

Dizziness crept over you, subtle at first but quickly overpowering. Your fingers loosened around the champagne flute as your head grew heavier, and before you knew it, your cheek was pressed against his shoulder.

“Yoongi…” you murmured, your voice weak as you leaned against him.

He steadied you, his hand moving to cradle your head as you slumped against his shoulder. “It’s alright,” he said softly, his voice carrying a note of finality.You tried to sit up, to stay awake, but your body refused to cooperate. Everything blurred together, and then, there was nothing.

Yoongi’s hand moved to steady you, his touch gentle as he adjusted your position so you rested more comfortably against him. He looked down at you, his expression unreadable, before shifting his gaze toward the driver.

“To the airport,” he instructed, his voice calm but firm.

The driver nodded without hesitation, changing course.

Yoongi turned his attention back to you, his jaw tightening as he studied your sleeping face. He’d heard everything earlier—the old woman’s cryptic words, your desperate plea to leave, and your determination to escape this world.

It all made sense. The nightmare that brought terrors in his heart really happened. You died because of his foolishness, because he chose someone else over you when he knew he couldn’t survive a world without you. It had been like living his worst nightmare all over again, the fear of losing someone he wasn’t ready to let go. But this time, he refused to let it happen.

He wasn’t a religious man, but your presence in this universe felt like a miracle—a second chance, no matter how strange or impossible. Whether you were the original her or not didn’t matter. You were here. You were his.

And he wouldn’t let you leave.

His gaze darkened, his grip on your hand tightening slightly.

“You’re not going anywhere, princess,” he murmured softly, more to himself than to you.

The first female lead was no longer his focus. She was gone.

Now, it was you.

And Yoongi would do whatever it took to keep you by his side—even if it meant tying you to him so tightly you could never untangle the threads.

The Ivory Fang (Il/finale)

— pairing: mermaid taehyung x (f) reader — word count: 8.2k — warnings: (soft?) yandere — summary: You have run out of options when it comes to treating your mother's illness. When a mysterious man offers you a solution that might save her, you decide that nothing is too strange if it means it'll lead to a cure – not even finding and striking a deal with a mermaid.

Part 01 - 02

The bones above you rattle as you dare to step closer to the pool. Your body trembles under Taehyung's intent gaze, the sharp points of his fangs peeking out as he smirks. There's no doubt in your mind that he would be able to rip you to pieces in seconds with teeth like that, yet, you can't run away now. There is nowhere for you to go but forward and Taehyung has all of the answers you have so desperately been searching for.

"Your request?" Taehyung prompts. His fin flicks lazily up and down, keeping his shimmering tail floating just above the water.

"You know what it is," You find yourself growing angry amid of your fear, annoyed that you were sent on a wild goose chase so far away from your mother. "Why could you not grant my wish on land? Why drag me all the way here?"

Taehyung's icy eyes light up at your vexed tone, openly finding pleasure in your displeasure. He taps a finger against his cheek, dragging out the silence to seemingly shake you further before he says, "My magic is stronger at the island. Your.. situation, requires a great deal of it, so it must be done here."

"Magic abides by certain rules, an order, which must be kept if you want your wish to be successful. So I will ask you again, human, what is your request?"

A brief thought strikes you about faeries and their ability to twist your words into something foul as you look down at Taehyung's mischievous smile. There was a folktale your mother used to tell you when you were young, to teach you to always speak the truth. You followed your mother's will, scared by the implication that a creature could twist your words, until you realized that sometimes - lying was kinder than telling the truth. But perhaps there had been something valuable in her teachings nonetheless. Maybe a mermaid's magic, much like a faerie's, can twist your request into something terrible if you allow space for it.

You take a moment to formulate the request in your mind, making it as perfect and concise as possible without leaving any room for trickery. "I want you to cure my mother of the sickness that is eating away at her body and make her healthy again."

The mermaid tilts his head, exposing the gills along his neck as he considers it. "Very well. And what may you be willing to sacrifice for me to grant your request?"

The answer slips out just as easily as it did the first time Taehyung asked you.

"Anything."

"If it is something of equal value then..." Taehyung pushes himself back from the edge of the pool, the distance making it easier for him to once again scrutinize you from head to toe. You're not entirely sure what he's looking for or what he finds, but he seems to deem it acceptable. "Hmm, fine. I shall grant it."

The mermaid suddenly submerges himself underwater, swimming into the depths of the pool. You shudder as you look over the edge and realize you can only faintly see Taehyung's tail shimmering down below, the water far deeper than you were expecting. You hastily retreat as you notice Taehyung's form becoming more visible, the mermaid clearing the distance in only a few seconds as he breaches the surface. He has something clutched in his hand, something mushy and soft that strongly resembles algae. The only difference is that this seaweed is glowing, a faint light emitting from it as soon as it comes into contact with air.

Taehyung spares you no explanation as he swims over to the other side of the pool, to the same spot he was lounging before you revealed yourself. You watch in fascination as he finds a large shell, placing the algae into it before he starts mushing it up even further with what looks to be a white crystal. You wince as he tears a lock of hair from his head, uncaring, as he adds it to the mixture. There are a few more things added into it that you can't make out from where you're standing, and for your self-preservation, you think it best to stay where you are.

The mermaid eventually makes his way back to you, his concoction held safely above the water's surface. "Come closer, human, I need you for the final part of the potion."

You hesitate for only a split second, wary of closing the distance. But the guilt of knowing that you're only prolonging your mother's suffering finally pushes to you take a few more steps forward, falling to your knees at the edge of the pool.

"Very good," Taehyung purrs. "First, I need back what I gave you." The fang.

You had completely forgotten about it in the midst of everything else. You feel a jolt of panic as you rummage around the loose pockets of your trousers, not finding anything. Did you lose it in the sea? Patting yourself down, you let out a tiny sound of realization as you remember the hidden pocket in the back, the one your mother added for safekeeping coins.

"Here," You place the fang by the edge of the pool, watching as Taehyung picks it up with a carefulness you never would have associated with a creature like him.

You shrink back as he suddenly raises a webbed hand towards your face, your heart hammering in your chest as you get a good close-up of his awfully sharp claws. You squeeze your eyes shut as he makes a swiping motion, sure that those talons are going to cut your throat wide open. Instead, only feel a light tug at your hair, much like a knife cutting through it.

You open your eyes just in time to see Taehyung adding a few strands of your hair to his brew, grinding it down to nothing with his crystal. He whispers low under his breath as he stirs, speaking a tongue you have never heard before. You wonder if it's magic or if it's simply the language of mermaids. It feels old though, like perhaps it is older than time itself.

Taehyung places the shell in front of you as he finishes his incantation. "You must drink this and think of your intention – your request – as you do so."

The brew looks murky green and slimy, definitely not at all appealing. It makes your stomach turn to know that you'll be ingesting his hair, but if this is all you need to do, then that is a small price to pay for your mother's health. You grimace as you pick the shell up, balancing it carefully between your hands as you bring it up to your lips. The smell that hits your nose is repugnant and you have no doubt that it will taste even worse. You take a deep breath in through your mouth, using the moment to steel yourself and think of your mother before you tip the shell forward.

Nothing could have prepared you for the absolutely horrid taste that hits your tongue, some of the slimy potion pooling in your mouth despite your best attempts to quickly swallow it. As the final gulp passes down your throat and you heave for air, desperate for something to scrape the nasty residue off your tongue, you feel a heaviness settle around your wrists and ankles. The sensation weighs you down for a moment, tight around your limbs, before it disappears just as quickly as it arrived.

"What was that?" You croak, touching your unblemished wrist.

You freeze as a webbed hand suddenly covers yours, your breath catching in your throat at how wet and off his touch feels. The sharp points of Taehyung's claws are digging into your skin, just short of slicing into your arteries.

"It was your end of our deal. The only thing of equal value to saving a life is to take another. Killing you would be a pity, so chaining your life to mine seemed a better option."

You swallow thickly, unease spreading through your body like wildfire. "What does that mean, exactly?"

"Well, if I call, you come. If I ask you to do something, you do it."

"So, I'm your servant," You conclude. "That's... fine. I'll aid you whenever you find yourself in our town."

Taehyung is silent for a long moment before he lets out a small chuckle, one that sounds like he just watched a kitten trip over its own feet. "Oh guppy, I do not think you understand. You are chained to me and my magic that rests on this island. You cannot leave."

"No!" You whip your head up, flinching as you find Taehyung's face much too close to yours. "But– But my mother? How will I know if our deal has worked?"

The mermaid shrugs, indifferent to your distress.

"Trust, I suppose. Desperation. If you ever attempt to leave, the spell will break and your mother will revert back to her sick self again. It is up to you whether you are willing to chance it."

You think you should have seen this coming – how cruel a deal with a magical creature can be. If you stay here you can't confirm that Taehyung is holding up his end of the deal but you also cannot risk going back to check on the odd chance that it actually breaks the spell and dooms your mother. You have no choice but to trust him – to hope that the magic that binds you, also binds him.

Taehyung senses your quiet acceptance, his claws drifting from your wrist to your cheek. You don't fight it as he lifts your head, forcing you to meet his gaze. The mermaid seems to revel in your misery, his eyes gleaming with something hungry and dangerous as he stares you down. His claws draw blood as he slinks closer, the small pinpricks leaving streaks of red trickling down your face.

Taehyung's breath ghosts over your lips as he leers and says, "Now human, what should we do with you?"

Servant was perhaps too kind of a word.

The mermaid puts you to work right away, sending you out to different parts of the island to collect items he needs. He often leaves you with vague descriptions, forcing you to make the trek multiple times when the plant or leaves you have plucked aren't the ones he's looking for. He never allows you to rest or eat until your task for the day is done.

You hobble into the cave, winching with every step as your bloodied and bruised skin makes contact with the hard rock underneath. Taehyung sent you out to find a red fruit today, one that grows at the very top of a tree. You haven't done much climbing since you were a child and certainly never that high up, so each branch you picked to take you further was chosen with caution. Your feet were already scraped and bloodied by the time you had made it halfway up the trunk and the rest of your climb wasn't made easier by the sap-like texture dripping out of the bark, causing every step to feel like it might be your last.

Your legs are shaking with pain by the time you step into the cavern, the crudely woven basket on your back so heavy it threatens to drag you down with each step. Collapsing near the pool's edge, you heave it off your shoulders to give to Taehyung. The mermaid hasn't spared you a single glance since you appeared, his attention locked onto the new concoction he's working on. It isn't until you loudly clear your throat that Taehyung turns around, propelling himself to the other side of the pool in a few seconds with a few strong strokes of his tail.

He hums contently as he takes stock of all the fruit you gathered, rummaging around to make sure that they're all in good condition. Taehyung pierces into the flesh with his claws, red juice dripping down his hand as he holds up the fruit to closer inspect it. His cold gaze moves over to you once he deems it satisfactory.

"Did you eat one, human?"

"No," You shake your head. To say you hadn't been tempted would be a lie, but you were afraid of disobeying the mermaid's orders. What if it affected your agreement?

"Good."

Taehyung lifts the basket on top of his head, balancing it there as if it weighs nothing as he returns to the other side of the pool. You massage your sore calves, trying to ignore the hunger gnawing at your stomach. You're not sure how long the mermaid takes before he makes his way back to you - you suspect he always drags it out longer than necessary because he likes to see you squirm – but you feel ravenous by the time he places your dinner in front of you. Your food is always the same; fresh fish cut into thin slices along with blue, plump berries. While it never looks like much, it always fills you up until you think you might burst.

You try not to grimace as Taehyung's webbed hands wrap around your legs, dragging your feet down into the water of the pool. The first time it happened you had kicked the mermaid so hard it left him stunned. In retaliation for your fear, you weren't allowed to eat for two days.

You quickly learned your lesson that it was best to just let Taehyung do what he wants unless you were willing to face the consequences.

You focus on eating your berries as Taehyung drags his hands over the soles of your feet, the mermaid murmuring words you don't understand. You suppress your whimpers as the wounds on your feet begin to knit themselves back together, the skin scarring and smoothing over in just under a minute. You often find yourself wondering if this is Taehyung's strategy for an obedient servant; while he's the one who's breaking you down, he's also the only one who can patch you back up, ensuring that you always come running back.

Fear has kept you from talking much, worried that one wrong question might cause the mermaid to anger and sink his claws into you. But the past weeks on this island have left you feeling restless and starved for more than just food. At this point, you're simply desperate for some interaction. So, against your better judgement, you say, "How does that work?"

Taehyung pauses his movements, "How does what work, human?"

"The thing you're doing to my feet, the, uh, magic?"

"That is none of your concern," The gills on Taehyung's neck flutter as he huffs.

"Right," You murmur, not stupid enough to push when it's clear that he's unwilling to elaborate.

"Are you the only mermaid living on this island?"

You pull your feet out of the water the moment Taehyung is done healing them, scooting back just in case you have annoyed him with your questions. The mermaid regards you silently for a moment, his normally stoic expression wavering just so.

"I am. We are lonely creatures, much too possessive to be able to share the same home," Taehyung says. His nose wrinkles as he adds, "There are some.. exceptions, of course."

"Such as?" You wonder.

"Two of my brothers are a bit more attached than what is considered normal for us. I pity the creature they will choose as their mate."

Mate? It seems odd that such solitary creatures would have partners but maybe this is a good thing for you. If Taehyung starts looking for his mate, he likely won't have time to torment you and send you out on such pointless quests anymore.

"Do you see your brothers often?"

"No," Taehyung answers simply. "The moment we leave the pod, we are on our own. I only hear about my brothers through whispers of others, never directly from them. Such is the life at sea."

The mermaid quirks his lips, showing off the sharp points of his fangs as he notices the surprised look on your face. "You seem shocked that I am willingly giving out information, human."

"I–I suppose," You stammer, flabbergasted. Frankly, you didn't think you would ever get that much out of a simple question, that you would actually learn something about how mermaid society works.

Taehyung gently pushes himself away from the edge of the pool, floating on his back as he drifts closer to the middle of the water. The soft echo of his voice between the cave walls leaves your mind spinning as he confesses, "You are the first creature I have spoken to in years, guppy. Us monsters get lonesome too."

You stand with your hands on your hips just a little ways off the path your feet have forged, staring down the bush full of ripe, blue berries as you consider all of your options. You are well aware that you will get into trouble if you eat some, that you will be defying Taehyung's orders, but you are just so hungry.

It is only midday and you know that you have hours left to go until you have completed the task Taehyung has given you for the day. You need some fuel if you are going to be able to keep going until then. You're sick of feeling like your stomach is either trying to eat itself or almost bursting at the seams, sick of every little aspect of your life being controlled. You know that this is the sacrifice you have made to cure your mother – and it is worth it – but surely it can't hurt if you eat a few berries, just enough to quell the worst of your hunger?

Determined, you reach out to the bush and pluck a handful of plump, blue berries. Their hue is a little more purple than the ones Taehyung normally serves you but that likely just means that they're a little overripe, if anything. You pop them into your mouth, shrugging as the same, familiar mellow taste hits your tongue. You're tempted to grab a handful more to snack on but you decide you better not push your luck too much. First, you need to see if Taehyung notices the few you did eat.

You steady the basket on your back, beginning your trek back to the clearing a little way up the mountain. You've already been there once today but the overflowing basket you brought back apparently wasn't enough. No – the mermaid needed twice that.

You use the billowy sleeve of your dirtied blouse to wipe your face and neck as you near the base of the mountain, surprised by the amount of sweat that's pouring out of your skin. As you follow your own trail upwards, you find it hard to catch your breath despite your leisurely pace, the world slowly beginning to tilt on its axis the more you move forward.

The temperature on the island is mild today, certainly not hot enough to give you a heat stroke, but the symptoms seem to plague you all the same. You stumble to the ground as you reach a cluster of trees, seeking refuge in the shade they're offering. You leave your basket next to you, using the trunk of the tree for support as you try to catch your breath. Your mouth feels awfully numb, a bitter aftertaste blossoming on your tongue the more you try to swallow it away.

"Shit," You groan as your vision begins to blur. The moment you touch your face, you become aware of the weird itching that has begun spreading under your skin, like a thousand little pinpricks stabbing into it over and over. You frantically rub your face, closing your eyes as the movement makes your stomach turn dangerously.

"Sweetie–"

You lurch forward on your hands and knees as you hear your mother's voice calling out to you, the sound so close yet so far away at the same time. Your eyelids feel like swollen boulders as you force them open, your gaze unseeing as you attempt to make out the indistinct shapes of trees and bushes in the darkness.

That can't be right, wasn't the sun shining just before you closed your eyes?

You crawl forward, feeling along the ground as you attempt to make out what direction your mother's voice is coming from.

"Please help me–"

You veer a strong left, using a large rock for support to get up on your trembling, unsteady legs. You stumble forward into the night, swaying with each step as you hurry after your mother's shadow, her cries for help ringing in your ears. You never gain on her no matter how hard you push your body, no matter how loud you try to call out to her. There is hellfire raging inside of your body, making every step much harder than the last.

You slump over a fallen log for support, attempting to soothe the thunderous pounding in your chest before you continue to follow after your mother. The sound of snapping twigs catches your attention, your head turning in the direction it's coming from just in time to see something walk out of the trees. The creature walks unnaturally and jerky, its limbs twitching oddly with each step forward. The darkness shrouds everything but the creature's outline, how big and imposing it is as it hobbles forward, its claws glinting in the faint moonlight.

A demon.

You slide off the log, biting back a cry of terror as you begin to drag yourself in the opposite direction. Your legs are too weak to hold you up, your knees buckling whenever you attempt to put any weight on them. Sweat is streaming down your face as you dig your fingers into the earth, heaving yourself forward with all the energy you can muster. The sounds of the beast behind you grow louder and louder, and dread settles heavily in the pit of your stomach as you realize that you can't escape it. You flip yourself over with shaking arms, vision swimming as you stare up at the canopy of leaves above you. Tears flow down your cheeks as you remember your mother, still lost in these woods, soon to be alone with the same demon that's hunting you.

"Please," You whisper, tongue barely forming the words as you see the blurry figure of the beast above you.

You try to plead more, to ask for mercy as the demon's claws descend towards your face; but just as you open your mouth to do so, everything goes black.

There's a steady stream of grumbling close by as you regain consciousness. You can't pick out much over the sounds of rocks grinding together, but you do hear the words stupid and human repeated more than once. Your attempts to open your eyes are futile, a thick paste holding them closed. You begin to panic as you realize you can't even move your limbs to remove it, your fingers merely twitching by your side.

"Human, you are finally awake," The familiar sound of Taehyung's voice halts your racing heart and calms it from driving you into a frenzied panic.

A wooden bowl is pressed against your mouth, a cool liquid trickling down your throat as Taehyung carefully pulls on your chin to part your lips. The taste is awful, so bitter and rotten at the same time that you have half a mind to stop swallowing it and just let it flow down your chin to avoid drinking it.

"You have to drink it all," Taehyung says, as if reading your mind. "Unless you want to remain paralyzed from the toxins for the rest of your life, of course."

He makes a sound in the back of his throat, a gurgle that weirdly reminds you of a cat's purr, as he sees you consume every drop. He removes the bowl from your lips as it empties, but his cold finger remains on your chin, the tip of his claw tapping against your cheek. "There was a reason I told you not to eat anything I did not give you, human. Most of the plants here are poisonous in their pure form."

"You are lucky I found you when I did, your foolish hallucinations and running around exacerbated the effects. You would be dead if I had reached you a few breaths later."

Hallucinations?

You can't remember anything past eating the berries before your trek up the mountain. The little feeling you do have in your feet seems to prove Taehyung's statement true, though. They feel scratched up and achy, like you've been running on uneven ground for hours. The mermaid lets you stew in the realization that he saved your life as he moves around, all too aware that you can't respond with your swollen tongue.

You eventually drift off to sleep to the sounds of Taehyung grinding herbs together, the mermaid murmuring words of the old language as he works.

The next time you wake up, you can finally open your eyes. The thick paste that was keeping them shut is gone and as you take stock of the rest of your body, you notice that your hands and feet move according to your commands. Even your mouth feels back to normal, your tongue no longer heavy and thick behind your teeth.

You roll your head to the side, finding that Taehyung is still kneeling next to you, right where you surmised he was earlier. His icy, piercing gaze is still as unsettling as always, but it also feels oddly comforting as he looks you over from head to toe, making sure that you're alright.

"Can you move all of your limbs?" "Yes," You croak, wriggling your fingers and toes to confirm that you can.

"Do you still feel like the fires of hell are inside of you?" Taehyung asks as he places his hand on your bare stomach, your muscles jerking at the feel of the cool and slightly sticky texture of his skin against yours.

"No," You murmur, "It's all gone."

Even if you do not remember anything of your hallucinations, you do recall the awful burning sensation that was all under your skin, scorching your flesh from the inside as the poison ate away at you.

"Good," Taehyung removes his hand to push himself to his feet, his movements just as unnatural as that time in his shop.

Without the cloak covering him up you're able to see just why he moves the way he does – the bones in his legs are twisted, jutting out in odd directions. You wonder if it's because Taehyung is half fish, that perhaps his anatomy does not line up correctly whenever he uses magic to transform his tail into legs. You know better than to ask though, no good will come out of antagonizing Taehyung with silly questions when he just nursed you back to health.

It's odd to think about, but it is true. Despite making your life a living nightmare for the past month, he still saved your life. Whether it's out of the good of his heart (you doubt it) or him not wanting to find a new servant, you'd rather not know. You're not sure which truth would be worse.

"What was the paste for?" You ask instead. "To make sure you did not start bleeding out of your eyes," Taehyung replies simply.

"Oh," You gulp.

Eager to steer the conversation over to something else, to make you forget just how bad this whole situation could have turned out, you pivot to another question that has been lingering in the back of your mind.

"Why–" You clear your throat, "Why did you pick me? I can't be the only human desperate enough to seek you out for a deal?"

"You would be surprised, human. Not many of your species are as, hm, selfless, as you."

The mermaid picks up a bowl you hadn't noticed before, the contents sloshing around as he hobbles back to where you're lying. You advert your eyes to the sky as Taehyung moves closer, finding it difficult to watch his stilted movements without it triggering something primal in your head, something that just wants to flee from the unnatural sight before your eyes.

"Drink this."

You glance back at Taehyung as he presents you with the bowl, once again kneeling by your side. Your arms shake as you lift it to your mouth, your head as heavy as the mountain you're in the shade of as you strain to lift your neck. The taste is still as awful as the first time Taehyung made you drink it but you diligently swallow down every drop, confident that something in it must be aiding your recovery since you already feel so much better.

"I did not always have magic," Taehyung explains as he takes the empty bowl back. "I made a deal with a sea witch. I was too young to know what I was asking for, what the witch was asking of me in return, and yet I accepted it without question."

"Mermaids have long lifespans, we live for twice as many moons as you humans do. I did not think it would matter much if I lost a few turns of the seasons, but the witch wanted so much more than that. It feeds of my life force, my very essence. I am a child of the sea, made to swim and hunt in it for centuries, and yet it tells me that half of it is already gone - eaten by the witch in an attempt to prolong its own existence."

You recoil as Taehyung lets out a small hiss, revealing his fangs as he thinks back on his mistake. He gives you a sour look as he notices your poorly concealed fear, as if you should already be over that by now.

"D-did you try to break it?" You ask, voice trembling.

"Of course," The mermaid rolls his eyes. "I did not just ask, I begged–" He heaves a deep breath, gaze blazing with anger at what you can only assume is his indignance of having to sink so low, to subject himself to something he considers to be beneath a creature like him.

"It did not yield to my pleas. The witch told me that it was only a creature with a will of steel, a heart of gold, and a selfless mind that could break my deal – my curse. Another mermaid would never possess such qualities and neither would other sea creatures. It only left humans."

Taehyung's deep baritone voice seems to go even lower as he stares you down and says, "I have visited countless human settlements before yours, seeking a human that would fit the witch's description. Not a single human ever entered my shop before you."

You shudder as the mermaid uses his claw to push a lock of hair away from your face. "What does that mean? You tricked me?"

"Perhaps," Taehyung hums, grinning in a way that shows off all of the horrible teeth in his mouth. "Or perhaps we simply took use of each other. You need me to keep your mother healthy, as I need you to break my curse. Your determination to save your mother even when you were at death's door showed me that you are precisely what I have been looking for – that you are the creature that the witch spoke of."

Taehyung cradles your face in his cold palm, his eyes shining with a different hunger than before, "Well done. You have passed my test, guppy."

You swear under your breath as you dump your basket into the soft sand, the grains still warm between your toes from the setting sun. With all the berries and herbs you have been picking lately, you forgot just how heavy firewood could be. You grumble as you pull the crudely chopped branches out on the sand, stacking them until they form a small bonfire.

The fire catches easily this time, roaring to life with the help of some big half-dried leaves. You still remember your first night on the island vividly, just how cold and scared of the unknown you were as you curled up to sleep near the flames. It never crossed your mind that you would still be here, months later, sitting in the same place and repeating the same motions. Not even in your worst nightmare would you ever dream that this would have become your life – your new normal.

You pat your growling stomach, staring out at the quiet sea as you wait for your dinner to show up. The setting sun has barely moved in the sky before Taehyung breaches the surface, throwing two fat and heavy fish up on the shore. You ignore the grisly sight of their missing heads, the identical teeth marks along their necks making it quite clear who the culprit is. Using two sticks, you skewer the fish, leaving it to roast over the flames.

Taehyung has pulled himself up beside the fire by the time you're done preparing your food. You made the bonfire near the water on purpose, just close enough that the waves lap at your toes whenever the current grows stronger. The proximity lets Taehyung leave most of his heavy tail in the sea, the dancing flames reflecting off his white scales.

"Is this another one of your human inventions?" The mermaid shoots the roasting fish a weary look, his lip curling with distaste as he notices how the scales burn and blacken.

"I suppose so," You shrug, turning the branches so that the fish cooks evenly. "We have always relied on fire for food and warmth. Surely you must have seen humans use it before?"

"You seem to forget, guppy, that no human has ever approached me before you did. I did not waste my time watching them, not when one would eventually find its way to me."

Taehyung experimentally reaches out a claw towards the bonfire, holding it close until the very tip begins to glow red. You let out a strangled sound as a thin line of smoke begins to rise from his claw and grab his wrist to pull him back, away from the flames. Taehyung's finger sizzles as you shove it into the damp sand near his torso, your eyes wide as you look at him in disbelief.

"Are you trying to hurt yourself?!"

"Peculiar," Taehyung murmurs as he lifts his finger, staring at the burned spot at the edge of his otherwise pure, white claw. "I could not feel it."

"Oh by the deities," You groan. "Perhaps your claws are too thick to allow you to feel pain but you can still burn. Be watchful of the fire."

Taehyung's bright cold eyes snap to your face immediately, "Are you showing concern for me, human?"

"No," You hastily reply. You can see the flash of Taehyung's teeth out of the corner of your eye as he grins, clearly not believing you as you busy yourself with the fish.

You can't pinpoint when the shift between you and Taehyung happened, exactly. Perhaps it was after he saved your life, or maybe it's simply a silent understanding that you both have something to lose if you don't cooperate. More likely though, you think it's just loneliness. The only creature you can talk to out here is Taehyung and the same goes for him. The days and nights get awfully long when you have nothing but your own voice to listen to.

Taehyung has seemingly realized that too, and in turn, he has grown... kinder. He still makes you gather things around the island every day and doesn't let you eat until your tasks are completed, but they have grown easier than before – and have become quicker to complete. There is still a bone-deep uneasiness that flares up whenever you're around him, a survival instinct that never dares to go dormant, but the visceral fear you used to feel as Taehyung showed his fangs or flexed his claws has dulled down enough to be manageable. At least, that's what you like to fool yourself into believing.

You move the now cooked fish away from the flames, giving it some time to cool down before you dig in. You rest your head on your knees, looking at how Taehyung's tail leisurely moves back and forth with the current. Glancing past it, you can't see anything but open water, Pearl Bay is too far away to be visible in the distance.

Hesitating, you trace out indistinct shapes in the sand as you carefully ask, "Do you think your magic would still work if you left the island and I followed you? Perhaps it's the proximity to you and not the island that counts? We could try–"

"No."

The silent anger in Taehyung's voice makes a chill rush down your spine. As you dare to turn your head to look at him, you find that his features are set in stone, hard, as he glowers at you.

"But–"

Your next words are replaced by a cry as Taehyung suddenly grabs your wrist and yanks you forward. You fall to your knees, your face oh so close to the mermaid's exposed fangs as he snarls, "You cannot leave this island. Ever. Do you understand?"

The fear racing through your body renders you speechless, your mind much too occupied by the flecks of dried blood on Taehyung's sharp teeth to formulate an answer.

"I said–" The claws around your wrist begin to hurt as they dig into your skin, drawing blood, as Taehyung leans in closer, "Do you understand, human?"

"Y-yes," You stammer, "I'm sorry, I understand."

"Very well," The mermaid releases you the moment you utter your compliance. He makes sure you watch as he lifts his hand to his mouth, licking your blood of his claws with a tongue that seems abnormally long. "Do not ask foolish questions again."

You can only nod in return, shocked by the display. His gaze flickers to the forgotten fish by the fire. "Eat your food."

You know a command when you hear one and you're not dumb enough to disobey Taehyung when he wants something. You fumble for the closest stick, heart pounding, as you grab one of the fish. You bring it to your mouth without much thought, biting into it before you can displease him further.

You yelp as the still fiery hot scales burn your lip, your eyes watering as you reach up to touch the wounded skin. You can tell it's going to blister and it's going to hurt for days, if not weeks, until it heals. Still, you chew and swallow the burning piece in your mouth, wincing as it moves down your throat.

Taehyung makes a clicking sound that resembles a tsk, turning your head back to face him once again. He stares at the burn on your lip, cocking his head as he assesses it.

"Be watchful of the fire," He echoes, half-mocking.

You hold your breath as he mirrors the same position as only moments before, his breaths almost mingling with yours. As Taehyung closes his eyes and whispers a few words of old under his breath, you're struck with a reminder of how handsome he is. You usually can't look past his fangs or piercing eyes, but like this, he simply looks like a beautiful, normal man. Someone you no doubt would have been drooling over if he had lived in your town.

Taehyung's cutting gaze demands your attention the moment he opens his eyes. You lose the ability to blink as you hold his gaze, heart stuttering with something other than fear as he says, "You are no use to me broken, guppy. I will continue to mend you and keep you whole. I can promise you that much."

You freeze up as Taehyung's cold lips press against yours, the kiss firm and unyielding as he pulls your bottom lip between his own. You make a noise in the back of your throat as Taehyung's tongue darts out to swipe across your burn, the sting instantly melting away. Before your body can make up its mind on whether it wants to push the mermaid away or pull him closer, Taehyung inches back, disconnecting his mouth from yours.

It takes you a moment too long to realize that Taehyung just used magic to heal your burn, the skin unblemished and smooth. You touch your lip, swallowing thickly as it tingles from Taehyung's kiss. You're not quite sure if the relief you feel is because your wound is gone or because you finally had the barest taste of intimacy after so long. You think it's for the best if you don't look too deep into yourself for that answer.

Taehyung seems pleased with himself as he watches your reaction. The mermaid's smirk spells trouble, the flames of the bonfire reflected in his eyes as he glances at your mouth.

"Interesting," He says, licking his lips, "Very peculiar, indeed."

You waddle out into the ocean, sinking slightly into the soft sand beneath with every step. As the water reaches your knees, you feel the weight of chains wrap around your wrists and ankles, slowing you down. The pressure around your limbs grows tighter the more you dare to move forward.

You stop when the water laps just below your belly button, glancing down at your wrists as if that would expose the invisible restraints that are hurting you. 137 steps. You have been pushing yourself one step forward every day, attempting to figure out just how far Taehyung's spell reaches, and you think you've finally found it.

The magic that is weighing you down is pulsating, squeezing and constricting your limbs in a way you know would bruise horribly if you could see them. It feels like a breaking point, like if you just push forward a little more, the distance will snap the chains right off. This must be the border you can't move past without risking breaking the spell and dooming your mother.

You retreat a few steps back, not willing to take any chances. The pressure from the chains lessens just a tad, as if urging you to go back to shore and rid yourself of the pain. You stay in place though, staring longingly at the faint, small outline of Pearl Bay shimmering in the distance. You've found that you can only see it on particularly nice days, when the sun is beating down and there's not a single cloud in the sky.

You have no idea how long it's been since you made your journey from Pearl Bay to here. The weather doesn't change much and the seasons certainly don't. Days bleed into nights and into days again, and you lost count many full moons ago of when you arrived at the island.

Sighing, you adjust the loose shirt hanging off your shoulders.

While you have never left the island since that day you stepped ashore, you know that Taehyung has. The moment the clothes on your back became too tattered, you found a rucksack filled with drenched clothing, all different styles and sizes. The mermaid never confessed to bringing them but you know there is no other explanation for how they just 'suddenly' turned up on the beach. It's all very strange. Taehyung has been meeting your every need lately, almost predicting them before they even arise. He has been acting a lot more than attentive than you're used to and that paired with his increased affection, you're not sure what to make of it.

As if your thoughts were a beacon, you hear a soft splash behind you. Strong arms wrap around your waist, pushing you further into the sand below as you bear the added weight of a mermaid hanging off your back.

"What are you doing, guppy?"

You shiver as Taehyung's cold cheek rests against your bare shoulder, water dripping steadily down your back from Taehyung's drenched hair.

"Not much," You say, turning your gaze to the spotless sky, "Just thinking." "Very well."

Considering how quickly Taehyung accepts your vague explanation, you can tell the mermaid has something else in mind – something he deems more important to do.

Barely a second passes before you feel the touch of his lips against your shoulder, your breath hitching as he leaves a trail of kisses up your throat. You lean your head to to side, allowing him easier access to your skin.

After that night Taehyung healed your burn, you don't think there has been a single day that has passed without the mermaid initiating some kind of physical intimacy with you.

The kiss seemed to awaken something in Taehyung; a feeling he only seems to crave more and more with each passing day.

To say that you mind it would be a lie.

Perhaps it's a sign that you're slowly losing your mind – but being held and kissed after so long feels nice. You know it's crazy to enjoy it with a creature like him, but what other option do you have? He's the only semi-human being around here and, well, his handsome face and toned muscles do make it quite enjoyable. There are still parts of you that find Taehyung's touch off, that makes alarm bells ring whenever you're held a little too tightly, but you've found that the more you ignore them, the less they bother you.

You let out a soft moan as one of Taehyung's longest fangs scrape across your skin, the sting immediately soothed by his tongue. He has taken it upon himself to experiment; to try out different methods in order to drag as many of those delicious sounds of you as possible.

You can feel your control slipping as one of his hands slips under your shirt, moving up, up, up.

Hastily grabbing it, you pause his movements just under the swell of your breasts. The intimacy is nice but you don't think you're ready for this yet. You're worried you might never want to leave if you let yourself sink that far into depravity.

"Taehyung," You murmur, catching the mermaid's attention. He nudges the back of your neck with his nose in response, breathing in the fresh scent of herbs and salt that always clings to your hair.

"What do I need to do to break your deal with the witch?"

Taehyung's grip tightens, the points of his claws digging into your skin possessively. "Why do you continue to ask me this, human? I have already told you that I do not know."

Because this is the only thing you know will distract him enough to forget about touching you more.

"Did the witch ever tell you when we would have to seek it out?"

There's a reluctant pause, a low series of perturbed clicks and grinding teeth before Taehyung tightly responds, "No. The sea will call for us when the time is right."

Your questions have their intended effect though, Taehyung's hands slipping away from your body as he detaches himself from your back. You hear him fumble with something behind your back, seemingly just as keen to distract you from your questions as you were to distract him from taking things further.

"I have something for you, guppy."

A string gets passed over your head, a necklace of sorts falling into place just below your collarbone. You pick up the heavy pendant attached to it, eyes widening as you recognize what it is - the ivory fang you had returned back to Taehyung. It glistens under the sunlight, its surface smooth and even.

"What is this?" You murmur as Taehyung peers over your shoulder, his chest flush to your back.

"It is mine," He reveals. "I lost it in my first battle. The shark had it coming for encroaching on my territory, but it did put up a decent fight, I shall give it that."

"That's, um– impressive?" You're not sure what the right thing to say is, you have never had to fight a shark before after all, but the mermaid seems pleased with it nonetheless, nuzzling his face against the crook of your neck.

"Why are you giving it to me, though? What... what does it mean?"

"It means that you are mine, my little guppy," Taehyung purrs. "I have decided to bestow you the honor of being my mate."

Mate? That can't be, that's.. that's not possible.

"Tae–"

The mermaid wraps you back up into his arms before you can protest, spinning you around so that you are face to face with the creature that has decided you are his to keep. His icy gaze is narrowed, his handsome features set with determination.

"Even if the sea witch lifts my curse, you will still be mine," Taehyung declares as he pulls you tight against his chest. "Your mother will perish if you leave me and so there is nothing back there for you now."

He leans down, his cold lips moving like gentle waves against your ear as he says, "You belong here, with me – forever."

a/n: i really hope you enjoyed the final chapter of TIF! it was nice to once again revisit the tcs-universe and it was fun to write a "softer" mermaid yandere story 🤧 i would love to hear what you think about the chapter – comments and reblogs make my day!! 🥺💖

if you enjoyed the story and would like to support me, you can do so here! 💖

Blood Bounty Masterlist

Summary: He’s taken everything from you, your blood, your memories, your life, and after months spent as Taehyung’s own personal feast, you eagerly take your chance to flee. Unfortunately your escape doesn’t go as well as you had hoped, as you are soon caught by another blood thirsty beast. The vampire Yoongi claims to know you, and that he wishes to return you home. But when you can only remember the pain caused by his kind, you find it difficult to trust him, since he too could just be another monster waiting to feed.

Part 1 

Part 2 

Part 3 (Finale) 

….

Additional Information on Vampire Hierarchy

…

All asks and other related posts can be found under the tag #bts blood bounty

Inevitable (Series Masterlist) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader (ft. ot6)

Genre/Tags: exes au, parents au, baseball player!JK; angst, fluff, smut (18+)

Series Warnings: foul language, alcohol consumption, minor character death, talks of insecurities, explicit sexual content (oral sex, fingering, making out, straddling, unprotected/protected penetrative sex but be safe please! specific warnings will be written on applicable chapters)

Series Word count: ~89.8k

Summary: You convinced Jungkook to break up years ago so he could pursue his lifelong baseball dream. Now he’s back home, staring at you, and the little boy next to you who looks unmistakably like him.

A/N: I love exes aus, and (athlete) dad Jungkook does things to me and after months of this little family living in my head, I finally got to put them into writing. So I hope you enjoy knowing them as much as I loved writing them 🥰 Also, my knowledge on baseball (and the MLB and the KBO) is quite shallow so for wrong terms and stuff… please ignore!

Prologue (wc: 2.2k)

Chapter 01 (wc: 6.9k)

Chapter 02 (wc: 7.2k)

Chapter 03 (wc: 7.7k)

Chapter 04 (wc: 9.9k)

Chapter 05 (wc: 7.5k)

Chapter 06 (wc: 7.7k)

Chapter 07 (wc: 6.6k)

Chapter 08 (wc: 14.7k)

Epilogue (final) (wc: 6.3k) 

Only Love: An Inevitable Epilogue (wc: 13k) || End

masterlist

In the Light of the Moon

Part Of: ‘Gods Among Us’ Collaboration

Also In: ‘Gods Among Us’ Library

Summary: The God of the Night is a busy one. He is in charge of riding his Chariot across the sky every night and bringing the stars to the sky. These are but a few of his duties among many more. So, how else to keep his head calm than to seek the counsel of his one and only beloved wife? The Goddess of Darkness is one of few to always welcome him with warm and open arms, after all.

Genre: Greek Mythology! AU, God! AU, Goddess! AU, Supernatural! AU, Fluff, Fluff Smut

Pairing: Nyx! Taehyung x Erebos! Reader, Husband! Taehyung x Wife! Reader, God! Taehyung x Goddess! Reader, Male! Taehyung x Female! Reader

Warnings: Sexual Themes, Mentions of Sexual Actions, Sexual Language, Mentions of Slight Possessiveness (Not in an Unhealthy Way)

Word Count: 2,163

Written: June 11, 2021, Posted: September 27, 2021

Important! A/N: Nyx is the Greek Goddess of the Night. Erebos is the Greek God of Darkness and the Consort of Nyx. Nyx and Erebos are also siblings. For this fic, I have done a genderbend of the God and Goddess and have also made them husband and wife instead of a consort relationship and sibling relationship.

Taehyung has many duties that are a part of his job. To most in the world of Gods and Goddesses, he is Nyx, God of the Night. He rides his Chariot every night to sweep across the sky and change it to night, dropping sparkles and shimmers of stars as he gracefully rides along, his dark horses just as graceful in their movements across the midnight sky as him at work. But this is only one of his jobs. He is also God of Dreams and Sleep. He influences people’s dreams and shows them visions rather often. He gives them visions of the future or of possible events, and he decides if you must have a restless sleep full of nightmares or one of peacefulness and quiet. He controls Death as well. If a person was to pass in their sleep, it is the work of the God of the Night, taking them in their hours of night and darkness to send them to Hades in the deep Underworld. Once Taehyung has finished his duties and the time has come for the Sun to rise high in the sky again, he takes his leave, swiftly moving towards Tartarus.

Although where he goes is known often as the darkest parts of the Underworld, it is not a place he detests to be in. Tartarus simply delivers the divine punishments that those who sinned deserve to suffer through. This is the place where the Gods and Goddesses are to imprison their enemies. Though it may be cruel in the eyes of a human, a God or a Goddess would understand the responsibility in carrying the burden of punishment for those who have wronged so terribly.

Even then, it is not just that Taehyung quite likes his home, it is also that there is another reason for his longing to be at his palace. His wife, his wonderful Goddess - Y/N. Y/N is her name to Taehyung and to other Gods and Goddesses with whom she is friends. To acquaintances, formal events, and to humans, she is Erebus, Goddess of Darkness.

Y/N is beautiful with her flowing hair and her glimmering eyes. Her smile so radiant it fills whichever room that she is in. She carries herself with poise that only she is capable of, and her elegance is one that has attracted many Gods for centuries, although she’s never given in to any except her Taehyung.

Erebus was the one who completed the Underworld, filling the empty spaces - the little caverns and large chasms, - with her shadow and mist and deep, deep darkness. She gave the Underworld its colour and design. But still, it is not the just the Underworld that uses her powers, but also Nyx. Her beloved husband uses her mist and darkness in his rides among the night. He uses her powers to help draw in the calming depth of the later hours and he swears he can feel her with every swish of his hand and every swipe of mist across the night sky.

It is with these thoughts of his wife that he makes his entrance in Tartarus for the early hours of the day. He knows that Y/N is probably done with her duties for the night as she usually awaits him in their palace. Their home. Theirs, Taehyung thinks. It warms him to refer to the castle as one he shares with the only person he adores and cherishes in all of Olympus. And as he continues to let his mind wander of his Goddess, he sees his palace come into view.

Taehyung’s palace is in one of the darker parts of Tartarus, one of the parts that Y/N herself had had a hand in designing with its misty appearance and mysterious aura. The palace takes up quite a bit of space, tucked in to the corner of a mountain range, but large enough to accommodate perhaps even an army of a thousand soldiers. It is on thicker, elevated ground so as to overlook Tartarus from their very own haven. It was rather well lit in a way that didn’t hurt the eyes with vintage style standing lanterns places neatly around the palace and hanging style lantern hooked around the multilevel home. Their palace was darkish grey with plenty of rustic highlights including many, many French-style doors, balconies, and windows. The rooms were all spacious and the throne room was one to die for with its elegant yet nature-oriented decor. The room had vines flowing from the corners and around the back of Taehyung and Y/N’s throne, the leaves glittering with the ambient amount of light given from the lanterns placed rather strategically around the room in a way that felt balanced.

Taehyung and Y/N had decorated their palace together. With both of them having good eyes for interior design, they knew they wouldn’t be satisfied to have the other Gods and Goddesses simply gift them a palace at their marriage. Instead they slowly built their own, working out each and every element of the house as they wove their magic together to create something they knew would hold their eternal memories.

It was one of Taehyung’s fondest recollections, one he thought of every time his palace came into view. But that thought quickly washed away when he saw his wife on one of the balconies — the one connected to their bedroom, he realized, — with her palms resting on the gothic style railings, her midnight blue Chiton flowing around her in graceful waves as she gazed down onto the valley below her, watching the lava falls that dropped down viciously, only to then split off in smaller trickles that turned to magma.

Although, Y/N sensed her husband’s presence as he got closer, — just as she always does, — and turned her head to see Taehyung begin to land his horses on the veranda in front of her as their servants came in to take the large beasts into their spacious enclosure. The chariot was wheeled off to the barracks for storage and Erebus watched as her husband’s eyes never left hers while he slowly made his way up the many stairs and into their home, away from her line of sight.

As Y/N made her way out of their bedroom and through to the hallways outside, she could see over the railing and down into the centre of the main floor in their palace that Taehyung had already walked through, the evidence being in the servants dashing around with his coat and scarves yet to be put away.

As she turned around, she felt a smooth movement as Taehyung wrapped his arms around her waist, catching her by surprised. “You moved through the house fast,” she remarked. Taehyung simply bent down to nuzzle his face into his wife’s neck, letting out a gentle hum.

“How can I not move so fast, especially when I know what awaits me here?” He gently pushes her against the railing, nudging his hips into her own as he moves his head up gently to nudge her cheeks with his lips in small kisses. “Do you expect me to move slowly and take my time with useless things while you just stand here looking so delectable, my wife?” Y/N lets out a small laugh as his arms squeeze around her a little tighter, ensuring that she wouldn’t be able to pry him off of her anytime in the near future — not that she was going to, anyways.

“Then what is it that you would like to do that you consider to be useful, dear husband?” You breathed out your words gently as Taehyung ran one of his hands down your waist to subtly squeeze at your backside.

“I have not decided which would be most efficient to make ourselves useful just yet, either. That comes first, yes?” Taehyung sends the cheeky retort towards you.

“And what does that mean?” You challenge him back just as easily.

“It means,” he leans close to whisper in your ear again and he pulls you just a little bit tighter, “that I’m not sure if I should waste time in taking us back into our chambers or if I should I simply take you right here.” He leans his lips closer to yours again, gently dragging his lips over yours. “Right here in front of everyone.” He gives you a gentle peck, “For everyone to see exactly who you belong to, and who’s name it is that you scream and cry out every night…”

You feel goosebumps prickle out across your skin as you stare into his eyes and feel yourself melt under his stare, his gaze looking right through you. His arms are the only thing holding you up at this point, or else you might’ve melted against the railing a long time ago.

He’s always had this effect over you, though. Ever since the first day he’s met you, he’s made you crumble from the inside out with his sharp yet warm gaze and his subtle smirk that spoke more secrets than you could ever begin to imagine. He’s always just been able to draw you to him in a way you can’t explain.

He was calm and convincing. He was carefully drawing you in little by little as he charmed his way into your heart. Taehyung was strict on boundaries, so he never did cross any. He did, however, tempt. He constantly was a tempter, and still is, you think as you feel him connect his lips to yours.

Taehyung asked you to dinners and galas with him all the time, claiming you to be the most tolerant person in Olympus in teasing ways while also sensually whispering how you were the only he wanted near him. How he wanted to be the only one near you at all times, — that thinking of you with anyone else was a thought too scalding to even imagine.

And just as sensually slow and calm as Taehyung, your relationship bloomed. It bloomed from friends to something just a bit more. And that little bit more turned into frequent nights spent in each other’s places as new lovers, which then turned into your clothing align with his slowly moving into your new palace as husband and wife, eternally.

You were brought back into the present as you moaned into Taehyung’s mouth, his hands roaming a bit more. You break away for a breath, “Perhaps it’s best we do move this back into the chambers, yes?”

“I reckon it might be just a tad too late for that, darling,” Your husband teases back. “I’m already too far deep in at this point to stop…”

“Taehyung,” you whine out, “it would be far too improper to let the servants see this.” Taehyung smiles at you. “This would be a new line, even for us.”

“What? Are you telling me that we’ve never crossed dangerous lines before? Have you simply forgotten the fact that I took you in the one hidden corridor during Zeus’ ‘all important council meeting’?” Taehyung retorts at you as he mocks the meeting Zeus once called all of the Gods and Goddesses of Olympus for. “It was boring and we simply found ways to entertain ourselves, and not a single soul bothered even while they all knew exactly what it was that we were doing.” And then he looks at you with cunning eyes. “They did only find out because of you though, my love.”

You guffawed at him, completely ignoring his hands groping you as you were distracted by this statement. “My fault?!”

“Why yes,” your husband shrugged at you, “you were the one who was so loud after all.” Taehyung gives you a cheeky grin as he watches your shyness overtake you in the way you curl into his chest, your head going lower between your shoulders.

“Well I wouldn’t have been so loud had it not been for you,” you retired quietly. You felt his chest rumble in amusement, his hands finally going up to grab your cheeks and tilt your head to look up at him.

“I do take that as a compliment to my skills,” Taehyung murmurs out as he connects his lips with yours again. He gently lifts you up, your legs going to wrap around his waist and your arms looping around his neck.

“Strange,” you utter out, “I don’t seem to be able to recall any of these skills you speak so highly of.” You look at him with a cheeky grin on your face as you watch his eyes twinkle.

“Well then,” your Nyx starts off, placing you on the bed and closing your chamber doors with a swish of his hands, “I’ll have to show you again, won’t I?”

“Yes,” you giggle out as he crawls on top of you and lets you tangle your hands into his hair, “I believe you will have to show me again, dear husband.”

——————————————————————

Please do Reblog and Comment as much as you Like a post - any post - you guys! It’s what really helps the word get out, lets other readers also find the kind of fics they might be craving at the moment, and constantly encourages writers~ Please do talk to me on Asks as well, it’s always lovely!

(Taehyung and Y/n in the middle of a fight)

Y/n: just take your things and leave

Taehyung: fine

Taehyung: *picks up Y/n and leaves*

[240721] BTS Weverse Media Update

drown for you | series masterlist

there was something in that enormous tank, hidden in the murky water. all you knew was that you weren’t allowed inside the room and that it used to hold something dangerous.

pairing: siren!jk x f reader

genre: sci-fi, merman/siren au, fluff, angst, smut

main masterlist

jjk masterlist

fic tag

art

illustrations

originally posted: february 2020>

rewritten: january 2021>

this fic is currently being re-written, but it’s low on my list of priorities so it’s going to take a while. the old version is available on my patreon as a pdf, but the fic will be updated here as well in the future

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The Worshiper Series

Long ago, there were gods who resided in Heaven — existing to watch over and protect the universe. Each of them had their own flaws, trials and tribulations; some which were more sparing than others, but these are their stories…

► Important Note: each of these can be read independently on their own, but for best understanding and comprehension, read in the order below from top to bottom.

Goddess of Light and Life!OC x God of Moon!Yoongi

► 9.4k | 90% Angst, 10% Fluff

► The universe was created with four gods to rule and watch over it. But when you take the crown and become the god of all gods, what the future holds is something you never wanted to know.

➜ Read Here

Human!OC x Human!Hoseok

► 19.5k | 85% Angst, 15% Fluff | War!AU

► The Great War was started by one mortal. One man that was not blinded by prayer and devotion. A peasant who knew that the gods were cruel. And through his suffering, he had one ambition — to kill a god.

➜ Read Here

Goddess of Sky!OC x Sacrifice!Taehyung

► 35k | 80% Fluff, 20% Angst

► He wonders why the sky doesn’t cry for him. After all, he is a sacrifice to a god whose name he never heard of. A sacrifice to a god that everyone had forgotten about. A god who controls weather through emotions.

➜ Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

??!OC x God of Wine!Jimin

► 9.5k | 55% Angst, 40% Fluff, 5% Smut

► The God of Wine is carefree and indulgent. Unlike many others who depend on pride and dignity, he does not care that he is not a powerful god. But when he stumbles upon a forest in the mortal realm, he discovers what desperation and anguish means.

➜ Read Here

Ghost!OC x King of the Underworld!Namjoon

► 5.4k | 95% Angst, 4% Fluff, 1% Smut

► The King of the Underworld was denounced and exiled from Heaven as a god. But with your help, he may rise to power once more and claim his rightful throne.

➜ Read Here

Pirate!OC x God of Sea!Jungkook

► 16.3k | 98% Fluff, 2% Angst

► You are the greatest pirate to set sail across the ocean and self-proclaimed ruler of the ocean. But when the true God of the Sea catches wind of your hubris, he punishes you — taking your legs and turning it into a tail.

➜ Read Here

Goddess of Love!OC x God of Sun!Seokjin

► 15.5k | 70% Fluff, 20% Angst, 10% Smut

► After the war, the God of Sun married the Goddess of Love to exemplify that such devastation will never occur again. But you knew his affections were untrue and fled. After a century, Seokjin goes looking for you to bring you back home.

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Additional Information: Worshiper Series fun facts can be found here.

240626 - V 'TYPE 1' Poster 📅 Pre-order: 2024.6.27. 11AM (KST) 📅 Release: 2024.7.9. (KST)

make you mine — jjk

You never suspected the evil would have taken the form of Jungkook, a hot guy from your college, but when he takes interest in you, you rapidly discover the secret he's hiding.

★ pairing: incubus!jungkook x fem!reader

★ genre: horror, smut, college au, jennifer's body au

★ word count: 5.8k

★ warnings: graphic description of gore (mention of blood & injuries), dub-con, jock!jk, implied inexperienced!reader, dom jk/sub reader, unprotected sex, praising, fingering, multiple orgasms, jk's kinda mean but hey he's evil so 🤷🏻‍♀️.

a.n.: here she is guys 🙈 it was both hard & fun to write lol but honestly the result is *chef's kiss*. read the warnings pls thank you!! im so scared of posting it 🥲

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

Jungkook thinks he never felt that much pain in his whole entire life. It’s like his soul is screaming from the inside out, as if someone stabbed him in the stomach, tearing his guts apart. 

Oh, but that’s actually what happened…

How can he still be alive? He swears he was dead seconds ago, losing liters of blood through the cut in his stomach. But he’s very much conscious right now, getting out of the woods he was brutally murdered in. Well, is it still murder if he survived? 

It doesn’t really matter anymore anyway. All he can think about at this moment is how hungry he is. He would devour anything he can eat, and god, why does the person on the other side of the pavement look so… edible? 

He feels the dried blood dripping from his mouth and his hands stained in the same red substance, holding his stomach where, surprisingly, he is no longer bleeding from.The pain is atrocious, but he needs to fucking eat, and he approaches the person faster. 

The moment they notice him, their eyes grow bigger and they let out a strident scream, but Jungkook gives them no time to leave.

He doesn’t know what in the hell possesses him to jump on that poor human, his teeth becoming sharper than they ever were, shredding their neck in pieces, their screams slowly dying down as he eats like a starved animal.

The fresh blood is coating the dried layer on his chin. He feels like an uncontrollable beast, and he’s literally acting like one right now. No one with a right mind would have ever done this… but it’s like he isn’t a human. 

He was revived from the dead, he can’t possibly be human anymore… 

He has an idea as to why this happened. 

Those girls — that girl band who he seemed so enthralled by — sacrificed him, and for what…? For fame? For money? Whatever it is, they killed the wrong person because obviously the sacrifice didn’t fucking work. 

Well, at least on Jungkook’s side. 

He doesn’t know where they went — probably out of town, living their best life as if they didn’t murder a guy for their crappy albums to get more sales. 

He’s cursed now, or whatever the hell is happening to him. 

He looks down at his victim; it’s a man. 

As he eats, he suddenly feels nauseous, vomiting what he had so far swallowed. A dark liquid comes out of his mouth, and god, it’s even more painful than the cut in his stomach. 

He feels disgusted by himself — why isn’t he full? Eating felt so good, considering how starved he was, but it’s like he ate something … expired. 

Argh, what’s wrong with him… He ate someone’s guts, of course it doesn’t taste like a 5 stars meal. Then why did his instinct tell him to do that? 

That’s fucked up. 

The next few days are horrible for Jungkook. 

After that night, he doesn’t eat anything except for raw chicken and other types of meat that were just not enough to satiate him. It doesn't taste good either. 

He lays in bed most of the time, having no energy, skipping the gym and his practices, which he usually never does. He gets texts from his friends, but he doesn’t bother to check his phone. 

It’s on Sunday night that he decides to leave his bed, going to look at himself in the mirror. He has big dark circles under his eyes — not particularly flattering. He’s still very hungry, but none of the food in his fridge makes him want to eat. 

There’s one thing he’d want, though… 

It’s when he receives a text from a specific person that he knows what to do. 

iseul: hey, gguk. wanna study together for tomorrow’s exam?

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

“Hey, man,” Jungkook’s teammate, Doyun, greets him. “Heard about Hana? That’s fucked up,” he states, walking beside his friend. “And right after Iseul… My parents refuse my sister to go out alone now.”

“Yeah, I heard,” Jungkook replies, not really caring, but still listening. 

It’s not like anybody liked Hana before, he doesn’t understand why everybody suddenly cares now that she’s dead. She needed to die to finally have some importance. How sad. 

She wasn’t that good of a laid either, so really, what’s the matter? Sure, it’s tragic, but who’s going to miss her besides her family. 

“Can’t be an animal at this point,” his teammate says under his breath, “Do you wanna know what I’m thinking?”

Not really…

“What?”

“I’m thinking it’s gotta be some ‘Jack the Ripper’ kinda guy. You know those freaks who wanna be the modern this or that.”

Kind of offensive… 

Jungkook rolls his eyes without Doyun noticing, snickering at his words.

“The police’s saying it’s a bear or some shit,” Jungkook explains, reaching his class. “That’s more believable than your ‘modern Jack the Ripper’.” He mimics quotes with his fingers, stopping in front of the classroom. 

Doyun still doesn’t seem convinced, but it’s not Jungkook’s job to make him less stupid. He can believe what he wants, he’s not an investigator even though he thinks he is. 

“See you at practice, alright?”

“Yeah, later, man.”

Jungkook has never been very attentive in class. He doesn’t care about a lot of things and college is one of them. He wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for his parents and their high expectations of him. 

He’s looking outside the windows, noticing the grey clouds, heavy rain pouring from the sky. A flash of lighting breaks through the sky, hearing the thunder a second after. 

Nobody seems attentive either, all interested in the thunderstorm that’s starting. It might be the strongest they’ve seen in a couple of years. 

“Crap,” the teacher says as the electricity is cut off, surely because of the thunder. 

Girls are gasping, some of them whispering to each other about how creepy the situation has become while the professor waits for the power to get back on, wanting to continue teaching his class. 

Jungkook’s phone lights up as he gets a new notification. He takes a glimpse, reading the text he just received. 

doyun: practice’s canceled.. 

Great, Jungkook thinks. He really needed to get some steam off, but it won’t happen today. 

“Sir!” A girl raises her hand, catching the attention of the professor. “All classes got canceled. Can we leave? Apparently, the power isn’t coming back in a few hours.”

“Well, I won’t teach in the dark…” 

The professor seems quite disappointed, but he lets everyone go back home, seeing no point in staying if he can’t teach. 

While exiting the classroom, Jungkook gets bumped into by someone. He doesn’t move much, but the person drops their books on the floor, bending down to pick them up hurriedly. 

“Shit… Sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going,” you apologize, standing back up when you have all of your books in your arms.

“It’s fine,” Jungkook mumbles and you give him a straight smile, still feeling apologetic. 

He recognizes you from highschool, a girl he never talked to, but who he knew the name of. Then, he watches you walking away for a short moment, eyeing your form up and down, memorizing it. 

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

You’re in the cafeteria, sitting with your friends, waiting for about a good 30 minutes now. The storm from yesterday is still ongoing, and the power is very unstable, cutting off every couple of times.

The finals are scheduled for today and the administration told the students to come regardless of the storm, thinking it would stop during the night. So you’re waiting to be sent to the gym where the exams are usually taking place, but seeing the electricity goes off and comes back every second, it isn’t the best time to start an exam. 

People are free to go, it’s college after all, but most of the students are staying in case a decision is made. You know you wouldn’t want to skip your exam, that’s why you’re staying, even though it is starting to get really long. 

No murder has happened since the beginning of the storm, confirming the police suspicions that it might be a wild animal doing this. A bear wouldn’t come out during a thunderstorm, hence why no bodies have been found or anyone going missing. 

You don’t really know what to think about the whole thing. You never really experienced anything of the sort before, only ever seen it in the news, taking place in a far away city. Now, it’s really different to see it in person, seeing people grieving, freaking out. 

You don’t understand how an animal would do such a thing, especially since they aren’t known to attack humans, or… eat them. But everybody is kind of desperate to find a culprit. 

As you’re looking through your notes, you notice that you’re missing a piece of information that you absolutely need to know for your test. You would ask your friends, but none of them are in this class with you. Plus, you forgot your book so the only solution would be to go to the library. 

The place is lit up by candles and oil lamps. The power doesn’t seem to have come back here. 

The librarian isn’t even here, so you can’t ask her for directions, which would be really useful, but you’ll do without. You go to the biology section and start searching for the book you need. It takes you some time, carefully looking through the shelves until you notice an older edition of the book. You hope what you need is in there.

You start flipping the pages to the right chapter, but you jump out of surprise and drop the book to the floor at the sound of someone else’s voice. 

“Aren’t you supposed to attend your exam?”

It’s the guy you bumped into yesterday; Jungkook. 

What’s weird is that you didn’t at all hear him, you could have swore you were alone in the library. Guess he’s a really quiet walker, hence why you didn’t even see him coming out of the classroom the day before. 

“Uh, y-yeah,” you stammer out, furrowing your brows. You bend down to pick up the book, his eyes following your movements closely. “Just had to come here for this,” you say and show the object in question in your hand. “What about you?”

He leans on the shelves beside him. 

“Didn’t feel like wasting my time back there,” he explains and you nod, not really sure what he wants exactly… It’s not like you’re friends or anything.

You can’t see much of him with the low lighting in the library, but you still catch on the way he’s looking at you intently. It makes you slightly uncomfortable, considering he’s towering over you with all his height. And Jungkook is very tall compared to you. 

“Is- Is there something else you wanted to ask me…?” You manage to let out, voice a bit shaky and uneasy. 

“Are you scared?” he asks casually.

He steps closer to you, and you don’t understand why you don’t step back. It’s like you don’t dare.

“What?”

“The storm. Pretty intense, right?”

Is he really interested to know if you’re scared of storms or is he playing with you? Why would he even play with you in the first place, that’s what you wonder. 

His behaviour really confuses you. It’s true that you don’t know him, but he isn’t the type of guy to just… creep girls out. Maybe it’s not his intention though?

“Oh, yeah… It’s- it’s nothing I've ever seen before,” you confess in a weak voice. 

“Me neither,” Jungkook replies. 

You hold the book against you tighter like it’s some sort of protection, or just as emotional support. You don’t know what’s up with him, but it has you feeling some type of way… 

You feel the knot in your stomach getting tighter as he gets even closer, trapping you between him and the bookshelves. 

Yes, you’re scared, but not of the storm… of him.

And… there’s a part of you that likes it — likes the attention he gives you, the way his dark eyes look at your body. His gaze makes you think of a carnivore, a predator. 

You’re the food he was looking for. 

“It’s really loud, isn’t it?” he observes. “I wonder… if you had to scream, would anybody hear you?”

That startles you right away. 

“Jungkook-” Saying his name seems to catch his attention, his eyes looking directly into yours. “Stop it.”

He doesn’t break eye contact, and you’re destabilized by how long he can hold your gaze, a shiver running up your spine, making the hair on your arms stand up. 

It’s only to whisper in your ear that his eyes leave yours. 

“Stop what exactly?”

His hot breath hits the side of your neck, hearing your heart pounding in your chest, the knot in your stomach becoming heavier and heavier. Your hands clasp around your book, holding onto it for dear life as you gulp down the excess of saliva in your mouth. 

You scrunch your eyes shut when you feel his hands on your hips, fingers sneaking under the hem of your top. Your core heats up, blood rushing to your cheeks… and clitoris. 

“What do you want?” You breathe out, opening your eyes when Jungkook faces you again. 

He takes the book from you, putting it back onto the shelves, not caring if it’s the wrong placement. 

“Just a little bit of fun,” he answers, “wouldn’t you like that, hm?” He slips his index finger under the band of your skirt, pulling you closer to him, his lips only centimetres away from yours. “I know girls like you are too shy to ask for it… So I’m making the first move.” 

“No, I-” You begin, but don’t have the time to finish your sentence. 

“It’s fine, I’m gonna take the lead. You don’t have to worry about anything, pretty,” he tells you, tilting his head and pressing a light kiss to your lips. Surprisingly, you reciprocate it. He pulls his hand away from your skirt, enveloping it around your throat, not putting any pressure yet. “I knew you’d be into it, you’re a little freak, aren’t you?” 

You don’t know what to answer. Is there even anything you can say back to him? What’s the point of lying when he has you trapped between his large body and the bookshelves, his tattooed fingers gripping your neck, his lips brushing over your face. 

But would that be really a lie saying he’s wrong about you? He doesn’t know you…

He kisses you again, this time sloppier, his tongue dominating yours easily. He nudges your legs open with his knee, his other hand swiftly diving under the hem of your skirt, groping your flesh in a lewd way that keeps you out of breath — apart from the fact that his tongue is currently exploring your mouth. 

He graces the bump of your pussy covered by your panties with his fingers, making your knees buckle at the unexpected contact. He rubs the pad of his middle finger over your clit, a whine escaping your throat, muffled by his mouth on yours. The moment is brief until he slips his hand into your underwear. 

You try to make him stop by grabbing his wrist, pulling away from his lips to pathetically whisper a ‘p-please’ that makes him chuckle. 

“Already begging for me, sweetheart?” He softly laughs, smirking at you. “Excited by the idea of a guy’s fingers in your little cunt instead of yours? Is that it?”

You frown because that wasn’t the reason why you begged him, but now that he said this… your thoughts are going into a completely different way. What’s wrong with you?

“Do you wanna know how it feels, baby? How it’s like to have your pussy stuffed by someone else’s fingers…” 

He’s not waiting for an answer as he starts stroking your bud of nerves in slow circular motions, applying some pressure to really make you feel it. You let out another whine, this time of pleasure. 

Jungkook then shifts down to your entrance, circling it with a lot of delicacy, but this gentleness of his doesn’t go on for long as he pushes a finger into you. You bite down on your bottom lip — the size of his fingers are in no comparison to yours. Your eyes swell up in water, little cries escaping your mouth when he adds a second digit. 

“I know, I know,” he whispers, “must be uncomfortable, hm?” You nod your head, confirming his words. “It’ll feel good soon, I promise. You’re used to the feel of your tiny fingers, it’s normal…”

When he says this, you have a hard time believing him. How could it feel good when you weren’t at all prepared for this — when it’s not what you wanted. 

He begins to move his fingers inside of you, slow and long strokes at first, circling your clit with his thumb at the same time. He curls his fingers, making a little hook, patting your sweet spot. The intrusion is uncomfortable, but it progressively gets so much more pleasurable as he thrusts into you at a regular pace. 

Tears are still falling down from your eyes, eyelashes wet and sticky, but they aren’t the result of your pain… 

“You’re pretty when you cry,” Jungkook murmurs beside your ear, butterflies in your stomach when he tells you this. 

He unwraps his hand from your throat to instead grab your thigh, placing your leg around his hip. You now feel his fingers way deeper inside of you, gently and deliciously stimulating your g-spot. You dare to look down where his left hand is operating between your thighs, sliding in until he’s knuckles deep into your pussy. This makes you breathless, head rolling back on your shoulders and hitting the shelves behind you. 

“Oh, my god-!” You exclaim when Jungkook’s ministrations bring you so close to your orgasm. Your legs are twitching, your body warning you of your approaching high.

You’d probably be more aware of his hard cock trapped in his baggy jeans, but you literally cannot focus on anything else other than Jungkook fingering you, hitting your sensitive spot each time he thrusts in. 

“That’s it, baby,” he encourages, moving faster. “You feel it? Huh?” He asks and you croak out a weak ‘yes’. “Tell me how it feels.”

You hate his questions — you hate them so much. He knows how you feel, but he wants you to say it, he wants you to say that you enjoy it, and… your body really does. 

“G-Good.”

“Yeah?” he breathes out, fucking your cunt with his fingers, enthralled by the little moans you let out.

“Yes,” you confirm, closing your eyes and nodding your head. “Fuck!” You curse out when you finally reach your high, grasping onto his forearm as you ride out your orgasm, your entire body shaking. 

Jungkook helps you by slowly rubbing your puffy clit in circles, telling you more dirty words in your ear, all said in the sweetest voice, as if what he’s doing can be described as anything sweet. 

“Good girl,” he praises, “see, I told you it’d feel great.”

He still has his head in the crook of your neck, and you frown at the feeling of sharp teeth against your skin. It’s barely there, just brushing over it, as if hesitating to act… but Jungkook retrieves back, looking into your reddened eyes. 

He could stop there, but he won’t — though he got what he wanted, he needs more… 

He pulls his hand out of your panties, fingers glistening in your arousal. “Open wide for me, baby,” he instructs. 

You glance at his hand, a little repulsed. You’ve never thought about tasting yourself and it’s surely nothing you’d have ever done… if not for Jungkook. 

You then reluctantly open your mouth and he enters his wet fingers in. 

“Suck,” he adds on, expecting you to follow his orders, and you do without a second thought. 

He stares down at you while you lick his fingers clean and he slides them a bit deeper, pushing down on your tongue. The taste of yourself isn’t what you thought it’d be… It doesn’t taste much, in fact. 

He removes his fingers from your mouth only to put them in his own after. “As sweet as you are,” he grins. “Turn around.”

You hesitate for a second, looking at him credulously, before doing what he asked you to do on trembling legs. 

“Are you…?” You say under your breath, looking over your shoulder and seeing Jungkook pulling the zipper of his pants down. 

“Going to put my cock into you?” he finishes your question for you. “Yeah, I am.”

You stop breathing at his answer, sensing his deft fingers touching your thighs and hips, going under your skirt to drag your panties down. 

He soon gets his cock out of his briefs, pumping himself a couple of times before aligning his head with your dripping wet entrance. His tattooed hand keeps your skirt crumpled up over your ass, laying the other one on your hip. 

“Careful, sweetheart,” he says softly beside your ear, “because this might sting a little bit more than two fingers.” He swipes the head of his cock through your sticky folds and all you can do is moan pathetically at the feeling, lewd, wet noises echoing in the big library. 

You can’t see his length even with the way you contort your head to look over your shoulder, but you’re still able to see his chest and hips moving as he pushes his cock into your pussy. Though you have no idea what he looks like, the painful feeling of your cunt getting stretched out to his size tells you he’s really big. 

And he was right. This hurts way more than his fingers, the two feelings are not comparable at all. 

“Jungkook-,” you cry out, holding the shelves in front of you till there’s no more blood in your knuckles. 

He hears you, loving the sounds you’re making because of him and the way you say his name with eyes full of tears. When he bottoms out inside of you, his pelvis flushed against your ass, he lets out a low grunt and throws his head back, closing his eyes to savour the pleasure entirely. 

You involuntarily clench around him, making him tighten his grip on your hip. He then starts thrusting into you, his cock sliding in and out of your pussy at a slow but harsh pace. Each time he bottoms out, Jungkook makes sure the skin of his thighs slap against your ass, the sounds almost as loud as your little moans and whimpers. 

But the storm is so intense and noisy that he’s pretty sure nobody else in the library could hear you — if there was anyone here apart from the two of you anyway. 

Your wetness allows him to fuck his cock into your pussy back and forth, welcoming him so perfectly without any restriction. It’s almost impossible for him to not hit your sweet spot, and he reaches so much deeper when he lifts up your thigh with the hand that was previously placed on your hip. 

You don’t know how long you can stay in this position, especially when Jungkook’s drilling his hard cock into you like nothing else matters. It’s like he needs it from you, and as the pleasure only builds up in you, you start thinking you need it desperately, too. 

You’re breathing heavily, and so is he, feeling his hot breath on your neck when he tilts his head down closer to yours. You can clearly hear his breathing now as well as his deep grunts that leave his mouth every time your walls close tightly around his girth, literally sucking him in. 

“Shit,” he curses out as he pushes lightly on your back, deepening the arch of it so your ass is flushed against his pelvis. “How could I have ever passed over you… You’re so- fuck,” Jungkook chokes out, not finishing his sentence, but you have a guess on what he wanted to say. 

He then kisses your neck pretty messily, but it only raises the temperature of your body, your skin boiling hot under his soft lips. He leaves a wet trail behind, going up to your ear, down to your shoulder. 

Telling him to stop isn’t even possible anymore, it wouldn’t make any sense… would be absolutely stupid when you’re so close to your second orgasm. 

As he thrusts into you, his balls smack your pussy, and the sounds are just too vulgar, but it’s honestly arousing you so much. Jungkook lets go of your thigh to take a hold of your jaw, turning it around so he can look at your face. 

Your mouth is ajar to let out big puffs of air, and it’s the same for him, his breathing being irregular and heavy. He didn’t think he would ever need something that badly, which is making you his, surprisingly enough. 

Making you his in whatever way possible; whether it’s by fucking you or eating you — or both. Jungkook doesn’t care, he just wants it. 

It doesn’t take long for your second orgasm to pass through you, arms and legs shaking as the knot at the pit of your stomach snaps. Jungkook feels it very clearly, your walls hugging his cock terribly tightly, bringing him closer to his own orgasm as well.

“Holy fuck,” he hisses, his hip thrusts accelerating, literally burying his cock in your cunt until he slips out. He rapidly strokes himself and cums on your ass, strings of white cum falling on you. “Oh, god…”

He stays in this position for a couple of seconds, catching his breath. He then slightly backs away, making sure to keep your skirt crumpled up over your butt, looking at the mess he made of you. 

Suddenly, you both catch on the voices entering the library, making you rush to dress up and clean yourselves — especially you. 

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

You’re in your bedroom, studying and writing down on your notebook while lying down on your bed. It’s relatively quiet in your house, hearing the TV downstairs playing and the ceiling fan above your head running. 

The ringtone of your cellphone breaks the silence, buzzing on top of your bedsheets. It’s a number that you don’t recognize, but the first digitals show you that it’s a number from your area. So you pick it up. 

“Hello?” 

“Hey, pretty.”

“Uh, who is this?” You ask the person on the other side of the line because you have no idea who would call you like this. They must know you.

“Take a guess,” they say, and their tone is oddly a little flirty. 

You frown, starting to remember where you heard this voice for the last time… And in which situation exactly. 

“... Jungkook?” 

He laughs at that and you can imagine the cheeky smile he’s sporting right now. 

“You got it,” he replies, “see, I knew you’d remember me.” 

You immediately feel uneasy despite the fact you’re just talking through the phone, but things have happened since your encounter with Jungkook.

Things such as more dead girls, all brutally murdered by this ‘animal’. 

You suspected nothing until you noticed how tired looking Jungkook was a day or two after what happened in the library. Normally, you wouldn’t have looked at him, but you literally couldn’t get him out of your head after how intimate the both of you had been together. 

Each time he was in the same hallway as you, you’d give him a glance and nothing more as you were too shy to talk to him or even look at him for too long. 

But sometimes you dared to watch him a little longer when he didn’t know you were in the same room as him. 

And you saw the dark circles, the bad attitude he had with his friends, and the disdain look he seemed to give to everybody. You also saw him get in his car with a girl. You were jealous for a second, but you felt totally different the next day when that same girl went missing and that Jungkook seemed to be doing fine again. 

At first, it was just silly thoughts, but it was too strong of a coincidence, you couldn’t think about anything else. 

“Yeah…” You say back, shoulders tense as you sit up on your bed. “How did you get my number?” 

“Asked Doyun for it,” he simply explains. “You did a project back in highschool together. Remember?”

You do remember. You were so stressed out about it. Paired with a popular jock? You believed the teacher was against you, but it turned out that Doyun was way nicer than you thought.

“Luckily, you didn’t change numbers.”

Lucky for who?

“Right,” you huff out, looking through your window, a shiver passing through you at the thought of Jungkook hiding somewhere.

“What’re you doing?” he asks.

“Uhm, just studying… Why?” 

“Wanna go out with me?” Jungkook proposes after a few seconds of silence. 

You look through your window again. It’s dark outside. This would be such a bad idea… 

“It’s 9 p.m. on a Thursday night,” you begin, sounding way too bitchy for his liking, “where would we go? And why would I even go out with you…”

“The park’s always open,” he adds.

“What-”

“Relax. Nothing bad gonna happen, alright?" his voice resonates through the phone, hearing a slight laugh after. "I miss you, that's all."

You bite down on your lip, shaking your head to get all of your stupid thoughts away. As much as you hate to admit it, you love hearing that from Jungkook. That’s all you wanted him to say since he left you in the library… tell you he needs you as much as you need him. 

But this isn’t the time for that — there won’t ever be another time anyway. 

You respond nothing and so he takes it as a yes. “I’ll come pick you up in 10 minutes. Put something pretty on,” he chuckles, hanging up. 

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

The park isn’t an open space with benches and a fountain. It’s basically the woods where you go for hiking. There are paths you can follow that will all lead you to the same place at the end. 

You could have thought of something smarter, or less dangerous, but you didn’t have any time. Jungkook showed up at your entrance precisely 10 minutes after he hung up and you weren’t exactly ready to see him just yet. 

You had to get in his car anyway, the whole ride being quiet until you arrived at your destination. Your stomach churned up the moment you entered the woods, Jungkook behind you. 

Your heart is still beating super fast right now, whether it’s because you’re absolutely scared or because Jungkook is kissing you feverishly, it doesn’t matter. You can’t do this, and you don’t know how it might end for you if you let yourself be distracted by him. 

“Jungkook,” you manage to say between kisses. You push harder on his chest, making him stop from putting his tongue in your mouth. “We need to talk,” you say firmly. 

“About what?” he chuckles, diving back down to the crook of your neck where he plants wet kisses, his hand sneaking up under your dress while the other holds your hip. 

You squirm, fighting hard to not let yourself give in to his touch. 

“I saw… I saw Jia and you getting into your car the other day,” you confess and he backs away from your neck when he hears that, looking intently at your face. 

“And? You were jealous, is that it?” He questions, lifting one eyebrow. 

“No! I mean-,” you answer right after, thinking about what to say and how to say it. “She went missing the day after you saw her, and-”

Jungkook gets visibly annoyed, trapping his bottom lip between his teeth. He lets go of you, still looking at you, but not with lustful eyes anymore. 

“What? What are you trying to say, huh?” He huffs out. “That I killed her? Fucking crazy.”

You feel bad. Is he really guilty?

He has to be. You know he is. 

“Back in the library,” you begin to say, “were you… did you intend to kill me?” You eventually say it all, breath caught in your throat as you watch Jungkook registering your words. 

He sighs, “why would it matter?” You frown at that, about to respond, but he steps closer to you, trapping you between him and the tree again. “Just let me take care of you, gonna make you feel good, baby…” 

He slips his hands under your dress so rapidly that you don’t have any time to react, immediately overwhelmed by his groping and his lips all over you. 

But you get back your senses, using all your force to push him away. You succeed to have a safe distance between the two of you.

“So you’re admitting it!? You wanted to- to do the same thing to me!”

“No,” he disagrees, his voice harsh, sounding quite annoyed. “I just wanted- Fuck!” he exclaims angrily, but it’s like he doesn’t know what to say. 

“You could have everybody you wanted, Jungkook,” you state, looking him into the eyes, “why me?”

He looks back at you and you wonder how you couldn’t have seen it before… The evil. 

“Why not? You’re hot, kinda a stuck-up, but I had to try it, you know,” he chuckles. “For a nerdy girl, you sure know how to take dick.”

It angers you to a point… 

“Fuck you!”

And without thinking twice, you reach down to pick up the pocket knife you hid in your boot before. 

You open it and you rush toward Jungkook, stabbing him in his lower stomach. You retrieve the knife a bit too hastily, resulting in you dropping it and falling down on your butt to the ground. 

Jungkook also falls down, holding onto his stomach, red blood dripping out of his cut onto his hands. He yells out many curses, sucking air through his teeth to appease the pain as much as he can. 

You watch him, startled and out of breath, eventually turning around and searching for your knife. When you find it, you get back up and to Jungkook, but he isn’t there anymore.

He has completely disappeared. 

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

.

.

.

HUSBAND!TAEHYUNG who proposed to you under the eiffel tower. it was a weekend full of romance and love, so many activities and promises filling your schedule that it didn't seem strange at all when he took you to the eiffel tower in the middle of the night; but when he knelt down and held your hand, you swore that the whole world had disappeared and that only you and Taehyung existed — he made everything disappear, except your love. “i want these days to repeat themselves until the end of our days. will you marry me?”

HUSBAND!TAEHYUNG who writes in your wedding shoes and you in his. it was a small idea he had the night before the wedding: like a good luck charm, Taehyung suggested exchanging signatures on your shoes, as if showing everyone that you, even before getting married, had already shared a long journey of life together. “it’s like a symbol of good luck. to show that we will always walk side by side and be there for each other no matter what.”

HUSBAND!TAEHYUNG who takes photos of both of you in shop windows. it was a custom that Taehyung created when you were still dating: it was a simple, banal, even sweet way of marking not only your date but also your clothes; huge photographs of you as a blurred couple became special to both of you, as if announcing to everyone that not only were you together, but you were also constantly going out — the flame of your relationship never went out, not even when you got married. “i can count how many times we went out to share our love and how many times i loved you in public. there is nothing more beautiful than that.”

HUSBAND!TAEHYUNG that takes you to see romantic plays and recitals. weekend nights became more exciting when Taehyung showed up with two tickets to the new play that was showing at the city theater; they were hours of pure love, faked between rehearsed lines and precise movements, but, nevertheless, beautiful and credible — so credible that Taehyung could only compare your relationship to theirs. “i have tickets for a new ballet recital. it's about two lovers who are destined to be together, just like us. let's go?”

HUSBAND!TAEHYUNG who offers you a locket with your wedding date inside. the golden thread glittered in the sun, enchanting the world with the love that Taehyung felt for you; inside it, a small white fabric was stained with a very strong blue paint: a part of the shirt that Taehyung wore to the wedding and the pen that you two used to sign the reality of a dream. “so that the happiest day of our lives can provide a little strength and happiness on heavier days.”

HUSBAND!TAEHYUNG who always shows you a rainbow because he believes that it is the gods celebrating your love. Taehyung believed that the happy colors of the rainbow were a reflection of your history: seven stages that led you to the present, seven encounters that fueled you during your dating times, seven promises that were the basis of your relationship — it seemed like number seven was your number and all the colors were the joys you brought to each other. “it’s us once again. look how the red and purple shine. it just makes me love you even more.”

HUSBAND!TAEHYUNG who swears that your love transcends physical death. even in your wedding vows Taehyung stated that there was no end to your love: physical death was just the end of a new stage for you; you and Taehyung would constantly meet again, not giving any value to the physical body when your souls spoke louder and he knew that nothing could separate you — not even death. “like a circle, our love is continuous without any gaps. in this and all realities.”

no one: jimin: have you noticed how small and cute i am? cr. 0613data, jung-koook, namuspromised

camboy!tae mini series

→ series started streaming: nov 19 2022 → series ended streaming: jan 1 2023 [tentative] → series pairing: kim taehyung x reader → series genre/au: strangers2lovers, camboy!au, angst, smut, fluff → series rating: +18 / M for Mature

—daydreaming | part 1

→ wc: 2,585 → warnings: taehyung is too hot, mentions of his insta picture his rude ass posted that has us all feral, sexual talks via social media platform messaging, explicit smut in the form of: exhibitionism via internet, mutual masturbation, use of sex toys for masturbation, use of pet names, praise, reader is more of a sub type, but not full blown submissive. → summary: Give me all of your love, gimme something to dream about. KTH is your favorite camboy, and as a loyal subscriber, you are chosen to test out some new features on the platform he uses to go live. He’s really good at selling his viewers a dream, and as a thanks to a new milemark he’s hit on the platform, he’s choosing one winner to get their fantasy scene. 

—late night talking | part 2

→ wc: 4,059 → warnings: taehyung is still hot, sexual talks via social media platform messaging, exhibitionism via internet, mutual masturbation, fingering, use of sex toys for masturbation, syncing sex toys for long-distance sex, use of pet names, praise, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, begging, sex crying, minimal daddy/babygirl vibes, feelings.​ → summary: ‘we’ve been doing all this late-night talking about anything you want until the morning, now you’re in my life, i can’t get you off my mind.’ KTH is your favorite camboy, & you’ve just been chosen as the winner of his contest. The winner gets to have their fantasy play out, with a twist and a gift…the platform is testing a new ability to allow the content creators to also see their subscribers in real time. 

—cinema | part 3 FINAL 

→ wc: ~2.5k but tbd → warnings: very minor angst is introduced, taehyung is forever hot, misreading a situation, reader is jealous, use of pet names, light sexual punishment and praise, explicit sex, multiple orgasms, begging, if you squint there’s daddy/brattybabygirl vibes, aftercare, recording sex. → summary: i guess we’re in time, if you’re getting yourself wet for me. KTH is your favorite camboy, & after winning a contest, the two of you have grown closer and gotten to know each other after a one-on-one session. After realizing you live in the same city, he asks to meet you—IRL.

copywrite hisunshiine 2023

sub rosa | jjk

👻 part of the ghouls just wanna have fun collab 👻

➛pairing/member: jungkook x reader (e x t r e m e l y loose, questionable/unhealthy); slight yoongi/tae x reader ➛genre: the thing ! au, alien au (sort of), horror, thriller, angst ➛word count: 18.6k ➛rating: nsfw (gore) ➛warnings: major character death, themes of horror, gore, graphic descriptions of blood and gore, major character death— please do not read if any of these things upset you! ➛notes: happy halloween!!! I hope you enjoy my contribution to the collab,, loosely inspired by The Thing (1982)!! Please let me know what you think! Also, Afraid by No Wyld is a good mood-setter when things start to shift!

A long-awaited camping trip with your friends takes a turn you couldn’t have ever expected, and you find yourself wishing you’d never left your house in the first place. What are you to do when you let a wolf so unknowingly into your herd of sheep?

— posted; 30.10.2018

— masterlist | collab masterlist | ao3

“y/n, stop moving! You’re going to make the tent fall over!”

You rolled your eyes at the dramatic way Taehyung had called that out, hands remaining in the steady grip on the tent they’d maintained the whole time you’d been helping him.

“You’re the one moving the tent, idiot,” you snorted, grinning when he sent you an affronted look. “Also I know we’re a good few miles from the town at the bottom of this mountain but that doesn’t mean you can be so loud, jesus.”

Taehyung beamed at you, nimble fingers making quick work of straightening the pole he had to slip inside the tent to keep it upright. “On the contrary,” he said, chocolate hair sticking to his forehead slightly from the light sweat he’d managed to work up while setting up tents. “I pitched this whole idea just so I could have somewhere to be as loud as I want for a week.”

His words made you laugh, since that very much sounded like something he’d actually do. In the apartment building you’d both managed to nab a unit in, you with another girl who attended your university and him with Yoongi, he wasn’t allowed to be very loud at all— and even then he struggled to keep quiet, if the numerous noise complaints he’d received were anything to go by. You wondered if there was anyone on his floor or the one above and below that hadn’t complained about his yelling when he played online games with his friends.

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hi ate congrats! pa-request ng 003 with taehyung? tapos phantom of the opera au kung kaya. thanks! <33

003. "Love me. I'm cold." + kim taehyung

— Kim Taeyung always hated the cold.

word count: 830 contents: ANGST, loosely based on Phantom of the Opera (both movie and novel), childhood friend!Jeon Jungkook to the rescue, (Y/N) developed a bit of a Stockholm Syndrome for a moment yikes, YOU ARE OF AGE (unlike Christine 😭) toxic, possessive behavior, major character death, Yandere AU  pairing: kim taehyung x reader

[masterlist] | check out more of [Four Years with Mira]!

A/N: Thank you so much!~ ✋😭💖💓💕 I’m so glad you joined! 🥳 I’m gonna be honest, I didn’t think of making “Love me. I’m cold.” into an ANGSTY yandere abomination and I also never fully watched Phantom of the Opera until this, but I gOTTA DELIVER!! Sana nagustuhan mo AAAAAAA

P.S. Repeat after me, lovelies. NO YANDERES IRL. THIS IS FICTION.

Time and fate are an unfathomable pair in how much they've changed life for you in the past months.

How, in spite of having gone your separate ways, you're once again entangled with a familiar face from your childhood. 

How, in spite of having been nothing but a background piece to the magnificent opera house for years, you're suddenly thrust into the limelight.  

How, in spite of having fallen for the angel of music, you're now faced with the fact that he had been a demon all along. 

"Taehyung, please!"

Catacombs ran deep beneath the city, labyrinthine halls that drove you mad as you ran through them in a desperate search for familiar faces. The white gown you had worn for the play was now tattered, sodden with the cistern's murky waters and smudged with dirt, and grime—and yet, that doesn't stop you from running towards the phantom and the vicomte as soon as you saw them. 

After having enough of the people that got in his way, Taehyung hunted the derelict halls beneath the opera house for Jeon Jungkook, your childhood friend, and now here they were. The two of them were locked in a battle, and though Jungkook was of a larger build than him, Taehyung seemed to have exhausted him enough for him to be winning over the young vicomte.  

"Taehyung!" your voice shakes as you call out his name immediately. 

Through the mask that covers his face, there's an immediate shift in his eyes, stone cold, murderous gaze becoming soft at the sight of you. "Enough of this. I beg of you," you beseech him, such words instantly taking away the fondness and revealing a look of betrayal and rage. 

"You're mine!" he childishly bellowed, shaking just as much as he pressed down on Jungkook yet again. "Haven't I made that clear enough?!"

The pain in his voice twists your heart, just as much as his heinous deeds twist your stomach. Murder, sabotage, manipulation—he had done all of it for your sake, he told you. If so, then perhaps you can coax him out of this. "Let go of him and I'll go with you," you strike a deal with the devil, effectively tempting him into loosening his grip on the vicomte. 

"(Y/N), n—"

Jungkook's protest is cut off by a groan of pain as Taehyung's fist meets with his jaw, the clatter of swords falling along with him. In an instant, the masked phantom seizes your face, his hold firm yet gentle. "You will marry me," Taehyung decidedly declares, "and you'll never b—"

A horrified gasp leaves you as you catch sight of a glinting steel poke through Taehyung's abdomen. He, too, reels with the pain coursing through his very being.  

Blood—blood is coming out of him fast.

Behind the phantom, Jungkook shakes as he withdraws the blade. He's never killed anyone before. "She's not yours or mine," the young vicomte gritted through his teeth, "but I'll never let her be damned to the likes of you."

The rage that roars through the phantom is immediate. So close, yet he had been foolish. He should've ended the basta—

A gentle hand squeezing his is the water that douses the fire burning within him. Your eyes meet and he sees the exhaustion in your eyes, the sparkle he had fallen for no longer there. There's a resounding defeat that flashes in Taehyung's eyes as he staggers forth and surrenders himself into your arms, his body falling from your weak hold and onto the floor.  

You and Jungkook share a glance, both unsure of what to do. Had Taehyung finally realized his faults and regrets so close to death's door?

Desperate for the last of your affection, Taehyung's hand clutches your gown. "Love me," his words were a benediction to you, his muse and goddess, as they always were. "I'm cold."

Kim Taehyung always hated the cold, but the darkness of the crypts were all he had, and he could never bring himself to the warmth of fire—the very thing that left half of his face and body scarred after an unfortunate incident years ago. 

You oblige, for the sake of what good he had done in your life, for the sake of that poor, unfortunate soul who craved for love he went mad. Fingers trembling from the cold and from the rush of it all, you unmask Taehyung for the last time, in spite of the weak protest he tries to stop you with. 

You gently caress his cheek, the one of marred flesh as you let him settle on your lap. A tear falls from your cheek, though you're not really sure why—you don't love him, not after what he's done. It's pity, perhaps.

And so, it is with pity you press a soft, parting kiss onto his forehead, one the dying man relishes. "Tell the world I've died of love," he whispers to you as you pull away, his dying breath only ever taken for his beloved songbird. 

Kim Taehyung always hated the cold. 

Still, he blissfully closed his eyes. At the very least, in the cold of the night, in the darkness beneath the city, your warmth surrounds him before death's embrace ever could.

Cry Me A River | Masterpost

— summary: forever is just an illusion, nothing lasts forever. don’t make me a promise that you cannot keep. please...it’ll break my heart

— pairing: bts x reader

— genre: angst, slight fluff, poly!au, mafia!au, arranged marriage!au

— status: ongoing

— word count: 150k+

— warnings: (triggering topics! please read at your own discretion) childhood trauma, mental abuse, physical abuse, child neglect, manipulation, gaslighting, violence, mentions of assault, implied sexual assault, hurt and comfort, divorce, emotional neglect, minor character deaths, kidnapping, some emotionally unstable scenes

↳ there will likely be more specifics in certain chapters. just know that this series highlight some things that can be triggering to some

— please don't go into this thinking it'll be a light read. don't estimate the warnings

— if you happen to read this series despite the warnings and if there are certain chapters you wish to skip rather than reading because of the warnings, feel free to send me an ask if you ever wish to know the gist of certain chapters and i will gladly catch you up so you don't get confused on anything

one. the breaking | you tried so hard to be enough

two. the lie | a house made of cards, they lived in your beautiful fairytale

three. the promise | if you told them about the darkness inside of you, would they still look at you like you're the sun?

four. the gentle heart | keep your heart warm, no matter how cold they have been to you

five. the void | no matter how many times you read a story over and over again, it always ends the same

six. the puppeteer | father wanted perfection, you fell in love with disorder

seven. the trial master | the only way to get rid of a buried memory is to face your past

eight. the scarlet drop | you can wipe someone's tears but not their memories

nine. the game of chess | everything's burned down into flames and all that's left is you right in the center, unable to escape

ten. the abuser and the bystander | it hurts just as much knowing someone could have stopped it all but chose to stand by and watch instead

eleven. the thorns of a rose | loyalty means to have full allegiance and faithfulness owned by a duty, a pledge, or a promise. and the reapers' loyalty lies much deeper than that

twelve. the black rose | he loved you once, so hard, but taehyung has no right to begin caring for you now

thirteen. the broken | once someone's been taught to stay quiet their whole life, how do they learn to scream and shout for help?

fourteen. the hurting | you can break something in two seconds but it will take forever to heal

fifteen. the cruel and the fool | nothing hurts more than trying your absolute best and still not being good enough

sixteen. the second choice | an illusion of free choice, it will always be namjoon in the end

seventeen. the liar | hoseok lied about choosing you, namjoon lied about leaving you, but the biggest liar of them all is you

eighteen. the frightened ones | drowning in the middle of the sea means being blind and not knowing who is on your side and who wishes to pull you in deeper

nineteen. the snakes | you're left on your own to save your own self

twenty. the watchers | sometimes to not protect is the best form of protection

twenty-one. the apologies | how many apologies have you heard in your lifetime? too many to count

twenty-two. the pawns | when pawns are used well, they are the soul of the chess. you might as well take advantage of what you’re given

twenty-three. the unprepared | no one is ever prepared to be broken, even if they think they are, and breaking again and again does not make you numb to the pain

twenty-four. the reckless | in the face of danger, you run right into it

twenty-five. the habits | you are a weapon and weapons do not weep

twenty-six. coming soon...

🥰🥰

Fall Back in Love | jjk

> jungkook somehow grew a reputation of sleeping around on campus, leaving him lonely and inexperienced with relationships. so when you, his old childhood best friend moves onto campus, he discovers what a relationship can feel like as he finds himself falling in love with you

> jungkook x f.reader, childhood best friends,friends to lovers, slow burn, light smut, jealous! jungkook, needy!jungkook, mature, mentions of blood and fighting

Fall Back in Love drabble

wc: 17.6k (got carried away)

“why would we go on a date?” jungkook fought the frown that wanted to appear on his face. not again. this had to be the at least the third time this month he’s had the exact same conversation the morning after he slept with a woman he either got chatting to at a party or a local club. it was like every woman within a five mile radius had a meeting and collectively decided to sleep with him then never see him again afterwards. he didn’t want to seem pathetic, isn’t that exactly what the majority of guys his age wanted? in their eyes he had the perfect situation going on, constant sex when he wanted it with no strings attached. what he wanted to know however was how they dealt with the constant loneliness that occurred every time the hook up left? or the heartache that came when he saw a college couple walking around campus throwing their love in his face every morning at 8am? he tried not to be bitter, it was cute they found someone to spend their college years with. no he was bitter, so very bitter. he was a romantic at heart, so how did he get such a reputation that meant no woman ever wanted to even go on one date?

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if the world was ending | kth

title: if the world was ending pairing: taehyung x reader (no use of gendered pronouns in this) genre: f2l if you squint, angst, a tiny bit of fluff rating/warnings:somewhere between teen and mature // pre-apocalyptic setting (read: impending doom), implied smut wordcount: ~0,7k

summary: five hours before the world is ending you go to meet a friend and eat some cake.

a/n: This is a little gift for the lovely, utterly talented and fabulous @btssmutgalore​ for the #possumversary! I am so happy our paths have crossed on this hellsite and in the dumpster! I hope you like it!

Thank you so much to @hesperantha​ and @wwilloww​ for beta-reading - you are the best!

The first sentence comes from this prompt-list by @creativepromptsforwriting​

a/n2: This was very much inspired by this song.

my masterlist   //  AO3

***

The world is ending soon, and he’s still waiting for the coffee he ordered twenty minutes ago.

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brighter than stars for @jkvjimin✨

[Cr. 0613data]

These Things Take Time (Yandere! Supernatural! Taehyung x Reader)

Synopsis: There's something wrong with your boyfriend Taehyung. At least, you think it's him.

16.5k

Trigger warnings: yandere behavior, psychological gaslighting, violence, gore, some heavy making out, strong language, AFAB reader (she/her) I'm sure I'm missing some but you know me and what I write lol

Authors note: just a real quick thank you to @bigbuffjoonie and @mustardpop for having beta read and brainstormed with me literally a year ago about this fic that I never published until now.

-----

He passionately thrusted her against the wall, mouthing at her neck while muttering disgusting things that he was going to do to her.

It was foul…

It was taboo…

It was…..

Your fingers paused and hovered over the keyboard, the constant clicking of your writing coming to a sudden halt.

Your eyes scanned the last few lines, lips instinctively mouthing the words and checking the overall flow of the plot.

Your two main characters were about to fuck each other’s brains out after a long ‘will they or won’t they’ that spanned well over a dozen chapters.

There should be a feeling of torture, a feeling of relief, a feeling of frenzied lust that just couldn’t contain itself anymore and combusted within the contents of these pages.

That is what you desperately wanted your loyal readers to experience when they get to this scene.

Yet when reading the long-awaited buildup, you felt nothing.

You cared for every character you created like a mother does their child, them getting their happy endings was just as important to you as it was to them. So why did you feel so numb and dissociated from everything you’ve been typing the past hour?

You released a disillusioned sigh and leaned back into your chair. Your eyes stung from staring at a screen for so long and your limbs ached to be stretched with hours of immobility.

Writer’s block was a bitch.

Unlike other skills, writing was one of the few expertise that working harder at it won’t guarantee a better outcome. You could type away until your fingers were bruised and bloody, but it doesn’t mean anything you wrote would be worth shit. Writing was a talent and it came and went as it pleased. And right now it was gone.

Which left you very depressed and your editor very pissed.

You gave up the fight and reluctantly closed your laptop. Then stood to your full height, to give your back a much-needed stretch.

‘I tried today. And that’s okay. I’ll try again tomorrow.’ You thought to yourself, half heartedly taking your therapist’s advice to acknowledge your efforts and not just the outcomes.

When in a creative slump, it has been said that reading other works can be a source of inspiration. Can’t be a good writer yourself, then go out and read a good writer. With this thought in mind, you slowly exited your office and descended down the stairs.

Last week your mom sent you a book she recommended, and you’ve been so busy trying to finish your own novel that you just tossed it somewhere and haven’t touched or looked for it since. Though, you were almost certain you caught sight of it on the coffee table yesterday.

When you stepped into the living room, you spotted a familiar figure standing by the large bay window.

The sight tugged a small fond smile onto your face.

Taehyung was your boyfriend of six months.

He was strikingly attractive, tall, kind and clearly didn’t know his own worth because not only was he dating you, but he also agreed to move into this secluded farmhouse while you tried to finish your book. He assured that he could use this time and space to focus on his paintings as well, but you knew deep down he just didn’t want to leave you alone out in the middle of nowhere.

Right now only his profile was facing you, his alluring feline eyes staring at the raining scene outside, dark brows furrowed in heavy thought. He looked to be biting on his lower lip, a habit you’ve never seen before, but you supposed you two have only been dating for a few months so there was probably a whole world of little quirks you didn’t know of yet.

The scene was a bit intense, as you weren’t used to your usually cheerful boyfriend looking so ponderous. Yet you shrugged it off and just assumed he was most likely brainstorming his next painting. Taehyung was your first artist boyfriend and your friends did warn you that they could be a bit dramatic.

You quickly surveyed the room and indeed located the book on the coffee table. While reaching for it you called out, “Hey love?”

Taehyung snapped his neck at a speed too fast for your liking, instantly facing you with eyes wide and blown out in what you could only assume was shock.

You giggled, thinking he was too absorbed in his own world that he probably just now noticed your presence.

“I know I said I wanted pasta for dinner but how about we order some chinese instead?” You asked. Taehyung didn’t say anything, eyes still wide in unknown revelation, entirely unmoving. You continued, “This weather makes me not want to do anything, and I know you complain about the delivery time but we could just reheat the food if it gets here cold.”

It seemed like forever but Taehyung eventually nodded.

He then turned to face the window again.

You inwardly sighed and guessed he wasn’t thrilled with the idea of chinese. He always complained that you didn’t take care of yourself and how you needed home cooked meals rather than greasy takeout. But when creatively burnt out like this, you tended to just reach for the doordash because the act of cooking seemed entirely too much for you.

Hoping to butter him up, you tipped toed from behind and wrapped your arms around him. You nuzzled your face into his back and took a deep breath, enjoying the familiar scent of his outrageously expensive cologne. His body seemed to melt into your hold, tense posture suddenly limp and calm.

You reached up and pecked his cheek, grinning when you caught sight of his lips twitching upwards. Harmless manipulation complete, you trudged out the room with a lukewarm “Thanks honey!”

You skipped up the stairs and made a left into a hallway, quickly getting into the bedroom and preparing to plop into the heavenly crumpled mess of sheets and blankets, when an unexpected sound caused you to still.

The front door was opening.

Afraid of a possible home invasion, you rushed out to see what was happening.

The door was wide open and emerging into the home…was Taehyung.

His hair and jacket was drenched from the rain, four or so heaping grocery bags in his hold as he looked up the stairs at you with a tired smile.

“Hey baby, can you give me a hand with some of this? I got some sauce for the pasta and picked up some other stuff we were running low on.”

Time stood still.

Your jaw dropped in bewilderment.

Your mind struggling to process this odd collapse of reality.

The nearest grocery store was, at its quickest, still a twenty-minute drive into town.

There was just no way Taehyung was able to leave and get back in the same time it took for you to get up the stairs and into your room.

No one can be in two places at once.

What the fuck was going on?

You just saw him. You just talked to him. You just smelled him. You just touched him.

Taehyung’s gaze worriedly ran up and down your face, correctly detecting that something was dreadfully wrong. He kicked the door closed behind him and rather ungracefully dropped the bags, hastily stepping over some of the falling items to race up the steps and take you in his hold.

“Y/n? Baby what’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost! Did something happen while I was gone?” He fretted.

“I-w-what-you-j-just-living room…” You stammered, not even being able to bring yourself to voice what was happening.

“What? What about the living room? You’re not making any sense.”

You gulped, looking up at him with fear. “T-Tae, I could’ve sworn I just saw you in the living room. I talked to you.”

Your boyfriend’s face dropped.

“Y/n, get in the bedroom and lock the door behind you.”

You irritably huffed while blinking away oncoming tears, realizing Taehyung didn’t quite understand what you were saying. “No! Not like an intruder! It was you.”

“I’m right here Y/n. I just got back from the market. I haven’t been home in the past hour. There’s no way you just saw me in this house.” He slowly explained, as if you were having some mental breakdown and needed to be talked off the ledge.

Your temper rose. “No shit Kim Taehyung! That’s why I’m scared! Do you have a twin brother or something? Or did you come into the living room before going back to the car to get the groceries?”

Taehyung backed away from you, clearly put off by your outburst. “No? First off, you know I’m an only child. Secondly, why would I come in and let you talk to me before going back out in the pouring rain, bring in groceries and then pretend I have no idea what you’re talking about when you said you saw me in the house just now?”

You glared up at him, now feeling foolish for even being scared in the first place of something that most definitely had a logical explanation.

Your boyfriend always had a more playful side than you and this was most likely the first trick he was trying to play in your very young relationship.

“I told you I don’t like pranks, Taehyung. You can pull them on your friends all you want but you promised to never pull one on me.”

He threw his hands up in the air in exasperation. “I’m not pranking you! It probably was an intruder who looked kinda like me and instead of letting me go and investigate, you're arguing with me?”

“It wasn’t an intruder! He didn’t take anything!”

Taehyung laughed incredulously, “Great, you're defending some robber over your own boyfriend now? I almost feel jealous.”

“There’s nothing to be jealous over because the guy was you!” You exploded.

“Which isn’t possible!”

“Go look then!” You relented.

Taehyung didn’t need to be told twice. He swiftly ran down the stairs and went through the entire house, searching for an unseen man who managed to trick his girlfriend into thinking he was him.

He found no such person.

It was only while you both wordlessly unpacked the groceries while licking the wounds of your little spat did Taehyung make a point that chilled you to the bone.

“Y/n, when you saw me…how did I look?”

You raised a brow at him. “I don’t know? You looked just fine.”

“Okay…and your working theory is I parked outside and came in, talked to you, then went back out, just to enter through the front again like nothing happened?”

You meekly shrugged, “Yeah I guess that would be a good trick.”

Your clever boyfriend pointed at the window, where it was still raining heavily. “I would've been soaked then, Y/n.”

That was the first incident.

— Dinner that night was a tense affair.

At least until Taehyung solemnly apologized for being so bad at hiding his true identity.

He then fessed up to being the Korean version of The Flash.

Against yourself, you bursted out laughing.

Maybe it was all the anxiety of the day that made you loopy, or your desperate need to just return to normal but you apologized for snapping and blamed your overactive writer's imagination for everything.

Taehyung said it was okay and that you actually looked hot when angry, you knew for a fact you didn’t but took the compliment nonetheless and suggested an early night in.

And just like that your first couple fight was over.

Yet that night when you were in the arms of your slumbering boyfriend, with his peaceful snores rumbling in your ear, all you could think about was the other Taehyung.

You regretfully lied to your boyfriend.

You knew for a fact that it wasn’t your imagination.

You were never the type of writer who got so immersed in your work that you began imagining things and confusing them for reality. If anything, you were too grounded in reality. In addition to this, you highly doubted that multiple weeks of writer’s block would even allow for such a vivid mirage to occur.

And the most damning evidence of all, if it was your imagination…why would your mind conjure up the exact replica of your boyfriend? The very man you live with and see everyday for hours on end? Wouldn’t it be a character from your book? Or at least someone you haven’t seen in a while?

It all didn’t make sense, but you didn’t have enough information to say what it was, you just knew what it wasn’t.

You rolled over and buried your face into Taehyung’s chest, practically praying for the mystery to soon be over and solve itself quickly.

It was most likely the overthinking and looming dark corners of the bedroom, but you began to feel like someone was watching you through the small gap in your ajar bedroom door.

– A few days passed and you have almost forgotten about the incident.

I mean, maybe not entirely but you were at least willing to chalk it up to a freak incident.

Scrolling through some discussion boards online showed that your story was actually pretty tame to what other unexplainable experiences some people have had. At least the other Taehyung didn’t try to scare or hurt you. It just seemed like he was doing his own thing really, like he was lost in his own world staring out that window. Thus you concluded that you weren’t in danger, and it therefore wasn’t worth freaking out about.

Mainly because your editor was on your ass and there was nothing productive about thinking of him when you were already so late on a deadline.

Naturally, you attempted to throw yourself into your writing, which was proving to be as fruitless as ever. Yet you knew giving your editor anything was better than nothing, leading you to sending half-assed drafts to him and enduring long calls about how your writing was okay, but not great.

You and Taehyung have been off too.

There was no more fighting or even words exchanged about the fiasco. However there still was an uneasiness between you two. You doubted that Taehyung believed your imagination excuse, but you also knew that he didn’t trust your original recollection of events either. Your boyfriend sort of walked on eggshells around you, almost as if you’d somehow think he was the imposter whenever he’d step into the room. You would be lying if you said you weren’t a little offended by it.

Luckily, Taehyung was currently immersed with his art, rarely leaving his little workspace. You wished you could say the same but you felt like you were simply writing in circles without actually getting anywhere. It was hard to not be jealous, but at least you were given some space away from him after a rather unresolved fight.

Meanwhile, you were planning to take a day or two off of writing, to just let your mind wander and relax so that maybe the next time you sat behind a laptop you could actually produce something worthwhile.

Of course it would just so happen that it would fall on the very day you get sick.

Waking up that morning you felt feverish and lightheaded, telling yourself that you could just use fifteen more minutes of sleep and you’d probably feel better.

You woke up five hours later; feeling even more feverish, lightheaded, and now nauseous.

You trudged downstairs to the kitchen and popped back some painkillers with a glass of water, already fantasizing about getting back into your warm and comfy bed once again.

Except what could make your bed even warmer and comfier? Taehyung.

Your boyfriend was always the more affectionate one between you two, you often practically had to push him away when you were trying to get work done. But now that you were willingly going to ask for his affection, there was no way he’d let you go uncuddled.

Any awkwardness in the relationship was long forgotten as you stomped towards his workspace, a demand to be held heavy on your tongue. You were too sick and exhausted to try to navigate relationship politics, but the whole point of a boyfriend was that he was supposed to provide attention on demand, right?

You reached his door and feebly knocked, trying to be polite to his artistic process and not just barge in.

You heard some shuffling on the other side and soon enough your boyfriend was in front of you. Taehyung hadn’t shaved his face in days, a faint goatee gracing his already intimidatingly handsome face. His black hair was messy and fluffy, a gold chain gracing his neck and drawing attention to his lack of shirt and gray sweatpants.

He grinned at you, “What’s up baby?”

You pouted up at him, momentarily not even ashamed to resort to such cheap tricks, “I feel sick and want to be cuddled back to sleep.”

“Aww poor thing.” He crooned while leaning against the doorframe. “Why don’t you head back up to bed and I’ll be up as soon as I can? I just finished a sketch and really need to focus on the next few steps before I can quit for the day.”

You huffed, kind of annoyed that he wouldn’t even take a break to hold you.

He rolled his eyes at your reaction, “Don’t look at me like that, honey. When the muse strikes, I gotta paint. Otherwise I don’t know when I’ll get the next chance for inspiration. You understand, right?”

“Yeah, I’m just really crabby and being held sounded really good.”

Taehyung chucked, muttering to himself a “cute” before leaning forward and pecking your lips. “I promise I’ll try to be quick. Go drink some water and wait for me. I’ll bring you some soup when I’m done.”

You just nodded and left him to his work. Instead of the bedroom, your feet somehow led you to the living room.

Maybe you should watch some tv while Taehyung worked? You already slept a lot today and if Taehyung was gonna be in bed with you later, perhaps it was a good idea to stay up for a little bit. Besides, you’ve been avoiding this part of the house ever since the incident and you needed to get comfortable in your own living room eventually.

Such a reminder of that rainy day caused you to cast a wary glance at the bay window, oddly feeling both relief and annoyance that nothing was there.

You plunked down onto the couch and wrapped a throw blanket around you, searching your usual streaming services for some comfort show to watch.

It was halfway through an episode of some show you’ve already watched countless times, when you heard footsteps approaching.

You looked up and saw your boyfriend, looking as cute and messy as before. Except now he held a sheepish smile on his face as he held up a steaming mug of something.

“What’s that?”

He took a seat next to you and gently handed the drink over. “Hot chocolate. I know protocol is tea whenever someone is sick, but I know how much you hate the taste.”

You fondly smiled and took the mug, flustered that he remembered such a minor detail about you. “Thank you love but you didn’t have to. You should be focusing on your work. Don’t let me distract you!”

Taehyung shook his head and threw an arm around you, holding you tight against him. He craned his neck and looked down to you, almost meeting you nose-to nose to connect his gaze with yours. Suddenly a serious expression replaced his formerly sheepish one.

“Actually, I wanted to talk.” He said, taking a deep breath before continuing, “I-I wanted to say sorry.”

“For what?”

He licked his lips, “I know we’ve been kinda out-of-sync ever since you said you saw someone and I didn’t believe you. But, it just didn’t make sense. Like, how is that possible? Whatever the case though, I shouldn’t have made you feel like you were going crazy or something.”

You raised an eyebrow, “So you believe me then?”

“Yes. I know you wouldn’t lie. I don’t know what happened but…I know you know what you saw.”

A warm feeling spread across your chest, temporarily putting your sickness on the back burner. In truth, you weren't sure if the situation even called for an apology but you felt so pampered that your boyfriend cared enough to. “I-I’m sorry too, Tae. I shouldn’t have assumed you were being mean and pranking me. Snapping at you wasn’t cool.”

Taehyung just shrugged. “Nah, I probably would’ve done the same thing.”

You secretly agreed that you were in the right but still, if he was being a big enough person to say sorry so should you. You turned your attention back to the drink in your hands, taking a sip.

You nearly moaned in pleasure when the flavor graced your taste buds.

“What did you put in this?”

“Oh just some cinnamon and-”

“Ginger.” You interrupted, knowing without a doubt that it was the other spice.

“Yup. Why? Is something wrong?” He asked, probably worried you didn’t like it.

“No! It’s perfect.” You said before gulping down more of the nostalgic hot chocolate. “When I was a kid, I had a babysitter who would make her hot chocolate with cinnamon and ginger. Mrs Fritz was her name, a really kind old lady from down the street. I was her favorite so she made hot chocolate for me all the time and watched me for free whenever my parents went out.”

Taehyung hummed, a small smile on his face as you fondly recalled one of the biggest figures of your childhood. “She must’ve had great taste.”

“Mrs. Fritz had impeccable taste.” You good-naturedly corrected with a giggle. “I miss her. When other kids wouldn’t play with me she would stay inside with me and color or read me these cool stories.”

“I would’ve played with you.” Taehyung grumbled, in all likelihood noting how you grimaced at the memory of not being all too popular as a kid.

“Haha, you definitely wouldn’t have! I was such a dork and actually hated playing outside. Kid me much rather be at home watching some old movies or something. Not to mention I was quite an ugly little girl.” You laughed.

Tae gasped dramatically, “That’s not true! You were adorable!”

“You saw like one picture of me at eight! And my mom did me all up for that picture! Trust me, I didn’t look that good at all.”

Taehyung looked like he wanted to argue further, but realizing you were right he just dropped it with an unconvincing, “Whatever you say.”

“But anyway babe, you really can go back to painting. I don’t want to keep you. If I had any inspiration right now, you wouldn’t be able to tear me away from my laptop.”

His arm tugged you even closer. “Nope, I’m alright where I’m at right now. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I left my sick girlfriend all alone?”

You blushed, logically aware that you could handle yourself but emotionally over the moon that this beautiful man didn’t want you to. Selfishly, you wanted to take advantage of his presence even if it came at the expense of his art progress. So you placed the mostly empty mug on the coffee table, fishing out your phone from your sweatpant pocket and setting it there too.

You then curled up into his side, suddenly feeling so drowsy.

Taehyung held you closer, even playing with your hair as you lost the battle with your increasingly heavy eyelids.

You felt him press his lips against your forehead in a drawn out peck, as his nose ticked the crown of your head. He inhaled deeply, his everlasting love for your shampoo revealing itself once more.

“You okay?” His baritone voice whispered.

“Yeah. I just took some medicine that’s probably making me all sleepy.” You mumbled back.

You didn’t hear anything else, just felt as he rested his head on top of yours, presumably also closing his eyes to rest.

Slowly but surely feeling the mechanisms of your brain shut down, the darkness steadily taking over as the sound of the tv became more and more distant.

A notification from your phone caused you to open a single eye, quickly scanning the screen on the coffee table.

Taebear: Hey almost done over here! Do you mind turning down the TV a bit tho? Kinda distracting :(

Before you can even gasp, the medicine-induced darkness consumed you completely, effectively and brutally knocking you out.

That was the second incident.

–

“So like I was saying, I dumped his ass because what the fuck do you mean you ‘don’t know what we are’? I met his damn parents, Y/n!”

The voice blarred over the phone speaker, as you hummed rather noncommittally. “What a jerk. You can do a whole lot better, Lisa.”

You were in the laundry room, slowly taking clothes out of the dryer and folding them as you spoke on the phone with one of your closest friends. About once a week you two would have a call and catch each other up with your lives. Although, Lisa led a much more interesting life than you and usually had a crazy story to share every week, while you just reacted to it. It was kinda like a one listener podcast, but you didn’t mind as you were always very entertained with her.

“Thank you! I don’t know where I keep finding these guys. You really got lucky with Taehyung, all the other men our age are such assholes.” She groaned.

You wanted to laugh, but at the mention of your boyfriend’s name you froze.

Not catching your silence, Lisa continued, “Anyway, how are you and Taehyung doing? What’s it like to live together only six months into a relationship?”

“Actually…we had our first fight.” You told her. “Maybe. I don’t know. It may not even be considered a fight so much as a disagreement but I’ve been feeling a little awkward.”

“Oooh, what happened?” She didn’t even try to mask her excitement.

“It…I…Something happened and he didnt…I don’t know, Lisa. I’m going to sound crazy but I feel like I’m experiencing a glitch in the matrix or some shit.”

She pushed, “Try me. Remember when I used to be a flat earther? I’ll believe anything.”

Lisa made a good point, she was always down for conspiracies and even proclaimed herself a supernatural expert. So you relented, “Okay. Look, I don’t want you to laugh at me or anything because I’m being completely honest. I’m telling you this because I desperately need theories.”

“I promise I’ll give you a theory! Just get to it!” She barked over the phone, anxiously awaiting your story.

“Um, so earlier this week I went downstairs and saw Taehyung. I talked to him about ordering out instead of cooking, hugged him then went up the stairs. Then not even a second later Taehyung came home with groceries, telling me he wasn’t in the house at all when I said I saw him.” You paused, waiting for her to interject.

“Huh…” She trailed off, stumped herself with what that could mean.

“And yesterday, I went to Tae’s workspace to try to cuddle but he said he needed a bit more time with his painting and then he’d meet me upstairs. I went to the couch to wait and he suddenly came in and apologized for not believing me earlier. We cuddled and talked then…I got a text from Taehyung asking me to turn the tv down because it was distracting him.”

You took a deep breath to calm your rising nerves, not liking how you were managing to scare yourself all over again. “Lisa, how was I in Taehyung's arms when Taehyung wasn’t even in the room with me?”

“How did this other Taehyung act? Was he any different than your actual boyfriend?”

“I mean, the first time he didn’t say a word and I left the room quickly. The second time he was so sweet and…I don’t know. Maybe even nicer than my actual boyfriend but not like suspiciously so.”

“And there’s no difference between him and Taehyung? Same height, voice, birthmarks, everything?”

“Yes.”

A brief silence as she no doubt was working with a theory. “And you’ve never had experiences like this before you moved into that farmhouse?”

“None.”

“Ah-ha! It’s probably a ghost then!” She assured triumphantly.

You, however, weren’t so sure she solved the case. “A ghost that looks exactly like my boyfriend?”

“Well, crazier things have happened. You know, scientists say that each person has around six doppelgangers out there somewhere. What if this ghost was your boyfriend's doppelganger?”

“Still, why would he act like he was my boyfriend? Like, this ghost must have a different name and background than my Taehyung so why does he go along with it whenever I call him Taehyung and treat him like a boyfriend?” You questioned.

“The afterlife can get pretty dull. The ghost is probably just bored and noticed that Taehyung looks alot like him, so he’s using that to his advantage to mess around.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better.” You grumbled, pissed at the prospect of you being a little plaything to a bored spirit.

“I know babe but ghosts are mostly harmless. If it really starts to bother you, maybe get a medium to move him along or whatever.” Lisa advised.

“Yeah, maybe.” – Mom: Look what I found!

The text came with a video attached, and you clicked it without thinking much.

A chubby little girl of about three to five years of age was badly hiding in a school cubby. Her mini feet sticking out and wiggling as the rest of her body was covered by a hung up winter coat. The cameraman sighed dramatically from behind the scenes, asking loudly, “Oh where could Y/n possibly be?!”

The girl giggled and a new figure slowly snuck into frame, approaching the cubby with a large grin.

The preschool teacher suddenly reached into the cubby and snatched the girl up, holding her up in the air as if the toddler was a prize of some sort. “Gotcha!”

The mini version of you laughed in her hold, kicking the air in glee. “Miss Addison you found me! You’ll find me anywhere, right?”

The young teacher nodded as she placed you on your feet. “Of course! I have a really good Y/n sense! I’ll find you anywhere.”

“Even the moon?” Innocent you asked, most likely just having learned about the star.

“Yes, I’ll find you on the moon if I have to!” Miss Addison chuckled.

The video ended and you went to type your mom a half-hearted reply, mostly inquiring how she still even had that clip after all these years.

While doing so, you caught yourself wishing that you could show this to Taehyung and prove that you were indeed not the best company as a child, your teacher had to play hide-and-seek with you because no one else would.

Yet, it wasn’t Taehyung you had that particular conversation with. Rather other Taehyung.

Or as you and Lisa had nicknamed; ghost Taehyung.

You failed to tell your boyfriend about the second incident. He woke you up an hour or so later with his promised bowl of soup, softly scolding you for never turning down the tv.

Deep inside you were sure that he was already convinced you were crazy from the first time his replica showed up. You didn’t seek to push that theory even further. Mostly because you didn’t want him to admit you to a psych ward, but also because of another glaring reason. The first time you were sure that Taehyung himself was messing with you somehow, which prompted you to accuse him, but this time around you knew for a fact he was innocent.

Instinctively, you didn’t feel threatened by the doppelganger spirit. If anything you sorta wished he’d pop up again with a ginger-cinnamon hot chocolate. It was kinda weird that he was acting like your boyfriend when he wasn’t, but he didn’t try to be too intimate with you or anything. The lease on the farmhouse was only twelve months so you could put up with a friendly ghost for a while if need be.

The only creepy thing was that you weren’t sure how you were going to tell if you were talking to the real Taehyung or not. Thankfully, the sick day incident seemed to be the last one, the last few days being almost eerily mundane.

The door to your bedroom suddenly slammed open, revealing your beaming boyfriend.

He held up a champagne bottle with one hand and two glasses in the other. “Guess what just happened!”

You sat up in bed and placed your phone on the nightstand as he giddily approached you. “What? Are we celebrating something?”

“Only the Bauhaus Gallery agreeing to schedule a showing for my latest collection!”

You jumped up in surprise, instantly wrapping your arms around him and plastering his face with kisses. “Oh my god! Tae! That’s amazing! I’m so proud of you! When is it?!”

“Next Friday at eight.” He chuckled through your kisses, fully basking in your attention.

The Bauhaus gallery was an uppity German gallery in town that apparently served as a who's who in the world of painting. Personally, you didn’t get what the big deal was, but Taehyung made it one of his career goals to have a show there. He always said that his career would really take off if he could showcase his work at such a place.

You pulled back and began thinking out loud as Taehyung worked on the bottle, “Wow, okay! I need to get a dress. And we should invite some friends to support you. Oh! Namjoon and his wife would probably try to buy a painting so we should see if they’re free-”

Taehyung cut you off with the resounding pop of the bottle, “Yeah yeah, we can plan that all out later. Right now I just wanna celebrate with my pretty girlfriend please.”

You quieted down and held the glasses as he poured. He then placed the bottle aside, took a glass and held it up for you to clink. You did so while your boyfriend declared, “To my collection and girlfriend; both beautiful and priceless!”

“You better announce that again at the afterparty!” You laughed, covering your blush.

You both finished the drinks rather quickly, him with a refreshing “ahh” and you with a cringe. Champagne really was overrated in your opinion, having no idea why it was the token celebratory drink. The glasses were then shoved somewhere aside, courtesy of Tae.

You laid back down in the bed, Taehyung unhurriedly following suit and even climbing on top of you at a leisurely pace.

Taehyung’s face was now inches away from yours, his every breath tickling your skin. His previous mood of joy shifted into something more…sultry. Cat eyes darkened, fully taking you in with a steadily growing smirk. The artist licked this bottom lip in a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it speed, before quirking one brow up in faux inquiry. His voice was low and husky, purring into your ears, “You know, it’s been a while since we’ve fucked.”

You snorted, “Gee, that’s hard to believe when you put me in the mood like that.”

“You like a man who's upfront.” He shrugged, not wasting a second more as he leaned down to slowly melt his lips against yours.

The intimate sensation felt almost foreign, the last few days having only been filled with obligatory pecks due to you two being so caught up in your work. You almost forgot how talented he was at making you feel special.

You kissed back just as slowly, feeling the intensity of his lips and taking the time to reacquaint yourself with them. It was gentle, deep, and meaningful. He kissed you gingerly, carefully, but that’s not what you wanted. Not after all this time. Pent-up sexual frustration caused you to knot your fists in his shirt, pulling him harder against you.

Taehyung groaned softly, low in his throat while encircling you in his arms to gather you against him. You two rolled over in the bed, tangled in the sheets, still locked at the lips.

His tongue slips into your mouth, tender but demanding. You swirl your tongue against his, moaning into his mouth as his hands snuck up to twist in your hair and grip you impossibly closer. Taehyung’s slight stubble prickles you, but somehow the extra sensation just excites you even more. Your boyfriend's lips pull back and meet their ultimate home at your neck, him now mouthing fervently at the sensitive nerves there as you gasped for air.

As you felt hotter and hotter, Taehyung answered your unsaid prayer and positioned his thigh between your legs, obscenely brushing against the place you needed him most. Knowing you like the back of his hand, he purposefully tensed his thigh as you not-so-subtly grinded against it, all the while he sucked and nibbled at the spot just below your ear.

A tug at your clothes.

Softly biting your earlobe, he whispered, “Be a good girl for me and take this shit off.”

Just when you were about to oblige, an unexpected sound cut through all the haze and caused you both to freeze.

It sounded like a…bang?

From somewhere deep within the house.

It was so loud and shrill, it effortlessly echoed off the walls of your humble bedroom. If you had to describe it, it was as if someone had just thrown a bowling ball with all their might.

Undoubtedly snapping into protector mode, Taehyung immediately jumped off of you and reached under the bed to retrieve a metal baseball bat.

“Stay here.” He ordered, already marching out the door before you could even protest.

You fearfully obeyed, reaching for your phone in case 911 had to be called.

Your once warm and flushed body was now icy with panic. Sitting upright in the bed, you strained your ears for any idea of what was occurring downstairs.

But alas, the house remained freakily silent. Almost as if that brutal sound was in your head and nothing more.

This did nothing to help your anxiety, a cold sweat quickly forming.

Minutes passed, you waited with bated breath for something. Anything.

But nothing ever came.

Your worry grew tenfold.

The longer Taehyung was away, the more you felt weighed down with dread, heart nearly in your throat.

‘What was happening downstairs? Was Taehyung okay? Did he find something? If there was a struggle, surely you would’ve heard it by now, right?’

Then ultimately, as the seconds ticked on, ‘Was your boyfriend going to come back?’

At the ten-minute mark, you made your decision.

Now concerned for your boyfriend’s safety, you sprung out of bed and ran out of the room. Your body purposefully moving too fast for your mind to catch up and halt your movements in the name of self-preservation.

“Taehyung?!” You desperately called out as you practically plummeted down the stairs.

“In here!” A croaky voice answered, sounding like your boyfriend but oddly…defeated?

You correctly traced the voice to his workroom, stepping into the space and seeing a scene that swiftly broke your heart, effectively replacing all your fright with woe.

Taehyung was on his knees in front of an easel, head bowed down.

The easel held a half-done canvas.

It was a sketch of two people, a man and a woman that closely resembled you and Taehyung.

It was partly painted, the scene depicting a warm sunny day at the park that looked alot like where Taehyung had taken you for a picnic and officially asked you to be his girlfriend. You were in Taehyung’s arms, kissing his cheek as he smiled his signature box-smile. You could recall that precise moment easily, you had just said yes to being his and sheepishly pecked his cheek, embarrassed by the old man on the bench a few feet away that eyed you two like a hawk.

It was a wonderful piece of unfinished art, not only due to the sentimental value but also the artistry and time that clearly went into it.

If only there weren't angry red sloshes of paint that cut through it, ruining the picture and turning it into something that looked like a horrible bloody mess of goo and not the romantic day it was.

“I-I was going to gift this to you….on our seventh month.” Taehyung’s voice was watery.

You didn’t even know what to say.

All of his hard work and thought was simply…gone. Erased. Ruined.

It would’ve been the equivalent of someone breaking into your laptop and deleting your entire novel’s draft. What would you even do? If roles were reversed, would there even be a way for Taehyung to console you? To make matters worse, it was his gift of love to you. He didn’t make that painting for himself, a buyer, or a collection…he made it for you.

Your empathy made you almost cry for him, but you knew that would be the last thing he’d want to see right now. His guilt would only grow.

You walked further into the room and got on your knees beside him.

Wrapping your arms around him, you cradled his head in the nook between your head and shoulder while rocking the two of you. “Tae baby, I’m so sorry.”

He didn’t say anything for a while, although you felt wet teardrops on your skin.

“Who would do this? It doesn’t make sense why someone would break in, take nothing and just destroy my gift?”

You didn’t know either, but you wanted to make him feel better. “Listen, I think it was the perfect gift. It’s really the thought that counts and I’m just happy that you even thought to make me something like that. Especially in the middle of working on your own collection, it must’ve been hard.”

Taehyung pulled back, regarding you with a tearful but hopeful gaze. “Really?”

“Of course! I was literally going to just get you a watch or something. That gift kinda would have made me look bad.” You attempted to joke.

He shakily smiled, even chuckling a bit before pulling back entirely and standing to his full height. Tae then held a hand out for you, pulling you up as well.

Not wanting to be in the room anymore with that awful mess, you gradually pushed him towards the door, eventually up the stairs and into your bedroom.

You both sat on the bed, him with his head in his hands and you awkwardly suggesting yet another early night in.

But instead of agreeing and attempting to join you under the covers, Taehyung continued to sit almost painfully still at the edge of your bed.

Then, he spoke.

“Y/n, you were lying when you said that guy was probably just a figment of your imagination.”

It wasn’t a question.

He knew.

He believed you now.

–

It was now the official opinion of the house that a ghost was indeed roaming around somewhere.

You wanted to pat yourself on the back because truly, your taste in men was superior.

Taehyung wasn’t one of those horror movie boyfriends that was convinced every unexplainable occurrence must’ve had a logical explanation. It only took that one experience for the artist to admit that something weird was going on, and although he never saw the ghost himself, Taehyung believed you when you said it looked exactly like him.

You were happy that you two were on the same page…well, mostly.

Taehyung reasoned that the lookalike ghost must’ve been the one to ruin his painting.

You don’t know why, but somewhere deep within, that accusation just didn’t feel right. Without thinking much, you had told your boyfriend that destroying his gift didn’t seem like something ghost Tae would do.

Obviously Taehyung was bewildered at your sudden defense of the spirit’s character and demanded to know how you could be so sure that it wasn’t him.

Feeling that your hand was forced, you fessed up to the second incident in which you ran into the other Taehyung. You explained that he was sweet, brought you hot chocolate and even held you as you fell asleep. It was only after the real Taehyung texted you that you realized it wasn’t your boyfriend, but by then it was too late.

Your boyfriend was understandably furious.

For one, you never told him that you were cuddled and taken care of by another man, dead or otherwise. And secondly, this spirit seemed to be taking too much of a liking to you. The artist was a weird mixture of jealous and protective, following you around the house and barely leaving you alone in fear that his replica would show up and snatch you away.

You thought he was overreacting, but Taehyung's determination to get rid of the ghost only grew as the days passed.

One day you took a break from writing and went downstairs to refresh your coffee, when you paused at the sight of your boyfriend waving an odd burning stick around the living room in a fashion that somehow made sense to him.

“Sage cleanses the home of negative energy and basically tells unwanted spirits to fuck off.” He told you as if you were the idiot and not him- wildly thrashing his arm around in a puff of smoke and demanding that his evil ghost twin left the premises immediately.

You shrugged, “Just don’t set off the smoke detector, please.”

The next day, Taehyung informed you over dinner that he called a security camera company and had ordered a set to be installed in your home.

“Don’t you think that’s kinda a big fucking thing to not run by me?”

“I’m sorry baby, but I knew you wouldn’t have agreed.” He apologized without seeming even the tiniest bit apologetic.

“If you knew I wouldn’t have wanted it then why do it anyway?!”

“Because as the man of the house it’s my job to protect us and I would like to witness everything that’s going on. Next time he comes out and tries to touch you, I will be able to see it from my phone and confront him.” He then reached for his water and took a self righteous sip before muttering under his breath, “That is if the sage didn’t kick him out already.”

“Man of the house?!” You echoed incredulously. “You call twirling around with some burning twigs and yelling at a harmless ghost being the man of the house?”

“He’s not harmless! Why are you so convinced that it’s just a casper that we’re dealing with?!”

You opened your mouth to retort, but snapped it shut when you realized you didn’t really have any reason to believe he wasn’t dangerous. So you just focused on the main glaring issue, “Nevermind that. I just don’t like how you made a big decision without telling me. Are we not equal in this relationship? It wasn’t even worth consulting me about?”

Taehyung didn’t say anything.

It would seem that he understood your point, but was stubbornly holding onto his just a tad more.

Appetite ruined, you stormed away in a display of vexation.

Not wanting to go to sleep beside him either, you stayed all night in your office and tried to just focus on editing the latest version of your draft.

Somewhere along the way, you managed to fall asleep on the keyboard.

You blearily awoke hours later to the sound of the door firmly shutting.

Groggily you sat up and twisted to see if anyone else was in the room with you, all the while rubbing off the key imprints on your cheek and leftover drool.

No one was there.

When you turned your attention back to the desk, you softly gasped in surprise.

A plate of grilled cheese sat there, still hot.

Alongside it was a steaming mug of hot chocolate.

One sip and you instantly recognized the ginger-cinnamon.

It wasn’t your boyfriend who left this.

The sage didn’t work.

–

Ralph was a man of about fifty years of age.

Tall, lumbering, calloused and not necessarily easy on the eyes, he shifted awkwardly at the entrance of your delicate farmhouse as Taehyung listed off the places in the home that he’d like covered.

Ralph was to set up the cameras while you and your boyfriend went out for a quick errand.

The gallery showing was tomorrow, and so was the little afterparty that you had arranged to take place. You did so without really realizing all that you would need for hosting. The guest list was an intimate circle of seven, but given you and Taehyung were running out of groceries for even just the two of you, you figured a trip to the market was needed to properly prepare.

You rolled your eyes and waited for your boyfriend to finish his little pep talk, sighing in relief when Ralph was finally free to disappear into the living room with his bag of tools.

“Ready?” You asked Taehyung, not really waiting for an answer as you stomped past him and out the door.

He followed you wordlessly to the car.

The ride into town was stiff and awkward, neither one of you saying anything and music not even playing in the background as Taehyung drove.

You both were still angry at each other.

Well, more like you were angry at him and he was correctly trying to not poke the bear by instigating useless chatter.

The cameras were overkill in your opinion and a giant waste of money. You both were artists, which means a severe lack of steady income. You needed to be smart with what you threw cash at because no one knew if your next book or his next painting would even sell. Nothing was ever guaranteed.

You felt for him that his gift was wrecked, but you weren’t lying when you said that the thought was all that really mattered to you. You genuinely didn’t care either way, it would’ve been nice to have the painting, but it was just as nice to know that he was painting one for you.

If you were a betting woman, you would bet that this was more about Taehyung’s unfounded jealousy than anything else. Usually you would find harmless jealousy kind of attractive, but not when it went into installing cameras into your home at the “low” price of a couple hundred dollars.

You thought of this in a quiet rage as Taehyung pulled into the grocery store.

He parked, you both got out and walked inside before grabbing a cart.

“Let’s split up.” You said, your tone leaving no room for argument.

“Fine. What do you want me to get?”

“Get the drinks. They’re mainly your friends so you’d know what they’d like more than me. I’ll get some stuff for a charcuterie board.” You ordered, just wanting to get back home as soon as possible

He nodded and swiftly went over to the alcohol section as you made way into the food aisles.

You were looking at the different types of crackers and wondering what the fuck the difference was when a sudden call of your name took your attention.

“Y/n?”

The voice was light and airy, tone warm and nostalgic to the ears.

No way.

It can’t be…

You swirled around to face the owner, nearly choking on your spit when you realized your suspicions were correct.

Park Jimin was as gorgeous as ever. The cherub face was just as you recalled, somehow both ruggedly handsome and softly docile. His eyes crinkled behind a pearly smile, a small hand coming up to swiftly brush through his dyed blonde hair as he approached you.

“I thought that was you.” He chuckled. “How have you been? It’s been so long.”

You managed a wry smile.

Jimin was once your college boyfriend of one year, five months, and eight days.

But hey, who was counting?

“I’m doing okay.” You choked out, not liking how he quickly frowned at your strained tone. If there was one man you could never lie to, it was Jimin. “How about yourself? Did you open up that studio you always wanted?”

The truth was you knew he did. Before meeting and dating Taehyung, you were guilty of occasionally checking his social media. It simply couldn’t be helped. Jimin was the longest relationship you ever had. The first man you ever really loved. And your first ever heartbreak.

“Um, yeah I did! I heard you published your first book last year. I bought a few copies myself…” he trailed off sheepishly, suddenly avoiding eye contact. “It uh, was really well written. Are you um, working on anything now?”

You bit your lip, not sure how you felt about the man you were once wildly in love with reading your novel after years of not talking. Much less buying more than one copy to support you. “Y-Yes I’m writing my second book.”

He nodded, a proud expression on his face as he pursed his lips in thought.

“I’m sorry this is…weird.” He finally huffed. “I really didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

You sighed with some relief, thankful he felt the same way. “Same. After you said you wanted to date other people I really didn’t expect to say another word to you like, ever.”

Jimin laughed, “Haha, what? Your memory continues to suck, Y/n. If anything it was you who ghosted-”

“Y/n.”

A much deeper voice cut through the air, bringing all the attention to a new figure descending upon the scene.

Taehyung strode up from behind you, placing an arm around you and regarding the other man with a brooding look of regard.

“Whose this?” Your boyfriend asked, purposefully deepening his already deep voice.

You inwardly rolled your eyes, noting how the artist was practically puffing his chest and glowering at the much shorter man.

“Taehyung, this is my old friend Jimin. Jimin, this is my boyfriend Taehyung.”

The two stiffly nodded at each other, you dodging the questioning look Jimin secretly shot at you for being described as ‘an old friend’.

A pregnant pause hung in the air.

“So…how long have you two been together?”

Before either you or your boyfriend could answer, a pretty lady suddenly skipped into the aisle and grasped onto Jimin’s arm.

“Babe, I can’t find the oat milk! I thought you said- Oh hello!” She just now noticed you and Taehyung, smiling politely and not-so-subtly nudging at Jimin to introduce her.

“Oh, um, this is Molly.”

“His girlfriend! And you two are?”

“I’m Y/n and this is my boyfriend Taehyung.” You introduced. “Jimin and I went to school together.”

“Really? I never get to meet any of Jimin’s old friends! We should have a double date or something!” Molly was an over the top girl, your ears almost ringing at the volume she exuded. But she seemed nice, so you smiled warmly at her and vaguely agreed.

Another brief, awkward and only slightly painful silence.

“Actually…” You trailed off in thought, an idea forming in your head but you didn’t know if it was a good one. Yet it was too late. Before you could even backtrack, all three sets of eyes were on you, eagerly waiting for you to finish the thought. “…what are you two doing tomorrow night?”

“Was just gonna drag Jiminnie to see this new movie! We can totally blow it off though!”

“Well, my boyfriend is a really talented artist and he has a showing tomorrow night. We’d love it if you two could make it.”

You felt Taehyung stiffen beside you, but you paid it no mind.

From what you understood about showings the more people, the more eyes, the better. It was harmless, wasn’t it? Jimin bought multiple copies of your book, and you’d invite him to a gallery showing to please his over hyper girlfriend.

Even, right?

Molly beamed, asking for your number to exchange the details.

You did so, pretending not to notice how both Jimin and Taehyung bore their stares into you.

When finished, you waved goodbye to the couple as they made their way to the dairy section. You and Taehyung then continued your own shopping in a rushed manner- your boyfriend grumbling about having to get back in time for the cameras.

The ride home was a bit more talkative, with Taehyung asking how you knew of Jimin and what made you two friends. You answered the questions rather honestly, just leaving out the parts about how your friendship blossomed into something more.

You weren’t exactly trying to be deceitful. It was just that he was under a lot of stress and paranoia the last few days, you didn’t want to push his poor nerves any further. If he was willing to set up a bunch of cameras to keep some ghost away from you, you didn’t want to push your luck by mentioning that Jimin was your ex boyfriend and longest relationship.

Besides, it wasn’t like Jimin was any kind of threat. You would never entertain the idea of going back to the guy who dumped you. He also now had Molly, so clearly you both moved on.

Taehyung pulled the car into the driveway, asking if you could handle the few bags as he went in to talk to Ralph and sort out the last few steps of installation. You agreed, watching him jog into the home as you gathered all the groceries and took your time to get inside.

You beelined straight to the kitchen with the newly bought food, raising your brows when you saw Taehyung staring at something intently on the counter.

“What is it?”

Taehyung didn’t answer.

You walked up behind him and stood on your tippy toes to spot over his shoulder what he was looking at.

It was a note, in messy and hurried handwriting.

“Sorry but the cameras could not have been installed. It won’t work here. -Ralph.”

–

If there was any man on top of the world tonight- his name was Kim Taehyung.

The Bauhaus gallery was swarmed with countless people, all clamoring to gaze upon the latest Kim collection and ponder the intricate meanings behind each piece. They wore luxury clothes and drank fancy wine that you couldn’t even pronounce, their tax bracket clearly a couple pegs above yours. There was of course some idle chatter, almost every corner of the building being filled with some pretentious snob rambling about the brush strokes, artistic style and commentary your boyfriend was allegedly trying to make with his art.

Such a crowd was not something you were accustomed to.

Thus you clung to Lisa, both idly sipping at wine and watching your boyfriend from afar as he charmingly answered questions.

“You know, he’s going to make thousands of dollars tonight.” Lisa thought out loud. “These rich types will outbid each other like crazy.”

You shrugged nonchalantly. You were happy for him, and knew he deserved it but you would be lying if you said he wasn’t in the doghouse.

“Still mad huh?” Lisa correctly assumed, reading your expression. “What happened after the camera dude disappeared?”

“Taehyung was really upset and called the company to demand his money back. They refunded him entirely, apologized and even sent someone to get the company van. I guess the Ralph dude was an alcoholic and everyone just kinda accepts that he skipped town.” You explained. “I tried to calm him down but he sorta snapped at me about how I never even wanted the cameras so I was probably just loving it all.”

Lisa lowly whistled, “Damn. Well, he probably snapped about the cameras but I promise you it wasn’t just about that.”

“What do you mean?”

“You invited your ex to his showing.” Lisa lectured, as if you were a child who didn’t even understand what you did wrong.

You stuttered, “B-But he doesn’t know Jimin is an ex! I told him he was just an old friend.”

She rolled her eyes, “Y/n of course he would see right through that. There's always going to be chemistry between Jimin and you, he probably picked up on it and is aware you’re not telling the complete truth about what you two were.”

“He’s just overly jealous. He wants to fight our ghost too. At this point, every man is a threat to him.”

At the mention of your ghost, Lisa’s eyes practically sparkled. “Oh I can’t wait to go back to your place! I want to feel the haunted energy for myself.”

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes, “It’s just like any other home, Lisa.”

“That’s because you don’t have a psychic sense to save your life, Y/n.”

You didn’t know whether or not to be offended by that, so you decided to distract yourself by scanning the room for your boyfriend’s invited friends.

Kim Namjoon was an old boss of Taehyung that remained good friends with the artist even after he dumped his job to take up painting full time. Currently, he and his wife Jennifer were talking rather seriously to a thin-lipped curator, most likely about purchasing one of the artworks displayed.

Right across from where you and Lisa stood, Taehyung was conversing with his former coworkers; Jin and Hoseok. They appeared to be laughing about something, their lightheartedness standing out in the overly serious room of people.

If you craned your neck a little to the left, you could spot Yoongi and Jungkook hiding in a corner away from everyone else, almost perfectly mimicking you and your close friend. They both nursed their drinks quietly, occasionally sharing words but mainly just waiting out this event.

You always kind of thought that Lisa and Jungkook would make a good pairing if properly introduced and pushed. So you turned to your friend and was just about to suggest you guys walk over, when she made a face at something behind you.

“Uh oh, here comes the ex.” She mumbled.

You turned around to indeed see Jimin and Molly approaching.

Jimin wore a suit, dress shirt unbuttoned at the top to reveal some of his sun kissed chest. His blonde hair was properly done this time, brushed to the side and back to fully expose his forehead. He raised a hand and waved, rings catching the light and nearly blinding you in the process.

Beside him, Molly looked as pretty as ever in a blue sweetheart dress that complimented her figure. Yet, she looked rather irritated. She attempted to give you a smile in greeting, but it looked more like a grimace.

Jimin spoke first, “Hey, I’m so sorry we’re late. I’m hoping we didn’t miss too much?”

You wanted to be annoyed but without meaning to, a giggle escaped you.

“Things really don’t change.” You told Jimin, a knowing look simmering in your eyes. While dating, you guys were often the couple that showed up late to any event. Most people assumed that it was your doing because you were the girl, when in all actuality it was Jimin.

Jimin shamelessly grinned, “I’ve gotten better, I swear.”

You didn’t believe it for a second and he knew it.

You both shared a laugh, staring at each other fondly like old friends reliving the old times.

It was hard to believe that you were joking with the man you once thought you’d never get over or forgive. Countless nights were spent eating your feelings, hysterically crying and obsessing over all the videos or pictures you couldn’t bring yourself to delete.

But there are some people in life that as soon as they come back, it’s like they never left.

And it was almost as if Jimin never left.

You two continued to gaze into each other, lost in your own comfortable bubble when a sudden throat clearing broke the haze.

“Um, actually the showing is almost over.” Lisa informed, her and Molly visibly looking left out of the nostalgia.

Your ex had the decency to look guilty. “Oh no! I’m so sorry! Maybe we can all just get drinks? There’s a nice bar two blocks down. I can buy a round for everyone?”

“That’s sweet but we have a little after party planned back at my place. I live kind of out of town though, so it’s okay if you can’t make it.”

“No! We can make it! What's the address?” Jimin seemed eager.

You told him, him pulling out his phone to save it into his gps system.

Molly was silent all this time, which was kind of worrying as your first meeting with her led you to believe she was the bubbly type. Now that you mentioned it, it looked like she was avoiding looking at either you or her boyfriend, focusing on a spot on the wall somewhere behind you.

You opened your mouth to maybe ask if she was alright, but quickly shut it when you realized that could be overstepping some boundary.

Fortunately, Lisa seemed to have enough of this entire interaction and grabbed your arm while saying, “Me and Y/n were just going to go to the restroom! Please take a good look around and enjoy her boyfriend’s work! See you guys at the after party!”

Your friend then swiftly dragged you away, barely leaving you enough time to smile apologetically at the couple.

When you both entered the restroom, Lisa simply marched up to the sink and began fixing invisible smudges in her makeup as you shifted awkwardly beside her.

“So…” She started, looking you up and down in the mirror. “Please tell me you know Jimin is still in love with you.”

“W-What?! No way!” You spluttered.

“Y/n it’s so obvious. I actually felt bad for his girlfriend. He couldn’t take his eyes off you.” She rolled her eyes, almost disappointed in your lack of awareness.

“It’s just been forever. It’s hard to not hyperfocus on eachother, we’ve both changed so much. Also, why would the guy who dumped me out of nowhere still be in love with me?”

She released a deep sigh, “He knows he made the shittiest mistake of his life and is now regretting it when seeing you and your talented boyfriend doing so well.”

You chuckled at the thought of someone looking at your relationship and being jealous.

“Listen, just remember tonight is Taehyung’s night and fighting or not, he’s still a wonderful boyfriend overall. And Jimin is your ex who broke your heart. Inviting him to your place after this might’ve been too much. I suggest you keep your distance.”

“Lisa, thanks for the advice but I honestly was just being friendly. He seemed sorry that he missed most of the showing. Besides, I’m going to be too busy hosting to have a deep heart to heart with him or anything.” You explained, a little offended that she thought you were going to play part in some dramatic reconciliation.

A sudden announcement echoed outside the restroom doors, your ears straining to hear a gallery worker asking everyone to gather on the main floor for the artist’s speech and thus the final part of the night.

Saying nothing more, Lisa and you made your exit to join the audience.

– The clock was nearing midnight.

Your usually quiet farmhouse of a home was not at all quiet.

Your boyfriend's friends were merrily talking and drinking, once in a while their masculine laughs would sync up and reverberate through the halls. They all conversed and lounged in the living room, the largest part of the house that could fit all of them comfortably. Yet, you and Lisa stayed in the kitchen, making the drinks and finger foods, as you indulged in harmless girl talk.

“The one with tattoos is so hot, Y/n. Please tell me he’s single!”

“Jungkook? I’m pretty sure he is. Taehyung told me that Namjoon is the only other one in the friend group that’s in a relationship.”

“Okay, so far so good.” She paused to pop a stuffed mushroom in her mouth, humming in thought. “What’s his type though? Like, would I have to make the first move? Does he like a straightforward girl? Because he hasn’t so much as looked at me tonight.”

“I’ve only met Taehyung’s friends once before so I don’t know their types or anything. I do think Jungkook looks a lot manlier than he actually is. He’s very kind but shy so you’ll have to talk to him first.” You explained while opening another bottle of wine for the two of you.

Lisa frowned at the thought, not used to being the one that had to chase.

You poured two glasses, handing her one with a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, I can introduce you two. It’s kind of a good thing he’s avoiding you like the plague, Tae once said he only acts like that with pretty girls.”

Your friend lit up like the fourth of july.

“Hey babe!” A familiar deep voice called out.

You looked around to see your boyfriend stepping into the kitchen, a buzzed smile on his face and a slightly glazed film over his eyes.

Moments like these made you realize how much of a lightweight your boyfriend was. It only took one or two drinks for him to get tipsy. But it was still his night and he was already home amongst loved ones, so all you could do is smile endearingly at his slightly intoxicated self.

“Yes, handsome?”

His boxy grin grew, “The boys want more beer.”

“Already?! I put out a twelve pack! People need to be able to drive home, ya know!”

He laughed, “Baby, my friends can drink a gallon each and still be able to drive home with their eyes closed if need be.”

“Well I don’t have any more beer up here. Just wine. There might be some more in the basement, though.”

He nodded in thanks, turning his back to presumably go to the basement and retrieve the drinks.

Lisa waited for him to get fully out of earshot before leaning over and dramatically whispering, “How is Jimin and that Molly girl doing?”

You shrugged, “Last time I was in there, Hoseok was making conversation with Jimin and Molly was all over Yoongi.”

“Damn, trouble in paradise?”

“I don’t know. He didn’t seem too bothered and she seemed a little drunk. She might just get overly friendly when she drinks.”

“And you’re still convinced that he’s over you?”

You rolled your eyes but ultimately stayed silent, aware that the couple was acting sorta strange but also not so sure that you were the cause. You took your wine in one hand and a plate of appetizers in the other, motioning for Lisa to grab the rest and follow you.

When you both entered the living room, you were thrilled to spot Jungkook sitting alone on one of the loveseats. You quickly set the food down and pulled Lisa along with you, approaching him with a friendly smile meant to put him at ease. Considering the way his eyes widened at the sight of your friend, you didn’t know how successful you were.

“Hey Jungkook, it’s been a while!” You greeted.

“Y-Yeah it has been. How’s your erm, book going?”

“It’s doing okay, thanks for asking. Have you met my friend, Lisa?”

He briefly scanned your friend, nervously gulping before saying quietly, “…No I haven't.”

“Oh well, Lisa was just saying how much she liked your tattoos.” You nudged her, prompting her to say something.

She just nodded in agreement, suddenly meek.

He blushed, “Thank you.”

“Actually, Lisa, weren't you saying that you were thinking of getting a tattoo?” You pretended to think out loud, as if you weren’t outright playing them. You didn’t wait for her to answer the rhetorical question, “Jungkook, don’t you do tattoos now?”

Now on a topic of interest he was for sure confident in, Jungkook practically jumped in his seat, “Yeah! I do! I’ve only tatted myself and some friends but I hope to work on more people.”

You watched with a smirk as Lisa moved to sit next to Jungkook, her now explaining what she’d like done and Jungkook asking questions about placement, size and color.

You felt sure enough in them to leave them alone, now inhabiting your little corner as you finished your wine while taking in the scene.

Yoongi and Molly stood by the window, and were obviously the most inebriated. He was the type to ramble pointlessly when tipsy, and she giggled at every little thing he said, playfully shoving his shoulder once in a while. You knew for a fact that Yoongi was too deep in his own self-epiphanes to notice her bad flirting, either that or he was just trying to talk to anyone who was willing to listen.

Namjoon and Jennifer were sitting on the couch and talking to Jin, laughing at whatever odd impression he was attempting. Beside them on the loveseat, Hoseok was politely nodding along to small talk from Jimin. Being one of the friendliest and most calming of the group, it made sense that Hoseok was the one trying to make your ex boyfriend feel included.

Content to just watch your guests for a while, you stood by your lonesome and slowly sipped at the remnants of your wine.

Playing host wasn’t exactly your forte, so you were enjoying the little lull while it lasted. Unlike your boyfriend, your social battery tended to max out at the two-hour mark when in group settings.

And as much as you loved the people in your home (with maybe the exception of your ex and his girlfriend), you couldn’t wait for them to get out so you could take a long, hot shower and head to bed.

The stress of the last few days was really tiring you, and you just knew that as soon as the excitement of the showing and sold paintings wore off, Taehyung was going to continue his spat with you about the cameras.

When you and Jimin dated, you two were always on the same page. Fights very rarely happened. And Jimin was such a people pleaser that if literally anything slightly upset you, he would practically fall over himself to make you smile again.

Taehyung was the first boyfriend to genuinely pick a fight with you, being more stubborn than you about matters you didn’t necessarily want to back down from either. Your relationship conflict resolution skills were being tested, and you just didn’t have the patience or experience to keep fighting much longer. You would call a truce or some type of compromise, if it weren’t for the fact that there was no way to really keep both of you happy.

A few minutes passed as you pondered this to yourself.

Seemingly materializing out of nowhere, a mysterious arm wrapped around your waist.

The suddenness of it all caused you to jump and release a very unflattering squeak.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

A deep chuckle rumbled beside you, Taehyung smirking lazily before diving face first into your neck and nuzzling it in some sort of drunken stupor.

“Don’t sneak up on me like that!” You groaned, trying to forcefully shove his face away from you. “Where’s the beer you went to fetch?”

Your boyfriend expertly dodged your shove and dove back into your neck, mumbling against the skin something about not being able to find more drinks.

The vibration of his lips on such a sensitive spot made you want to squirm, but his halfhearted mumbles took your attention a bit more.

“No beer? I could’ve sworn-”

“Hey Y/n!” Someone interrupted with a call across the room. You looked up to see Lisa trudging over with a determined look on her face and a fogged up look in her eyes, perhaps a bit more tipsy than you remember leaving her. “Aren’t you going to show me where exactly you saw the ghost?”

Your dear friend most likely thought she was being discreet and having a normal conversation at a perfectly appropriate tone. But no, she was actually speaking way above a conversational volume, causing everyone else in the room to halt their conversations and turn to look at you.

“Ghost?” Jin laughed.

“You saw something in this room?” Hoseok inquired with a trembling voice, most likely regretting having come over. Beside him, Jimin quietly shook his head to himself.

“No way, Y/n doesn’t believe in stuff like that.” Your ex confidently informed the group.

At the sound of your past lover’s voice, you felt Taehyung stiffen beside you. The artist untangled himself from you, standing to his full height and facing the guest with an unknown expression.

“We had a little bit of a ghost problem, but it’s taken care of now.” He paused, and you could nearly hear his smirk when he went on to declare, “I got rid of it.”

Yoongi laughed boisterously, having to hold himself up with the wall to prevent falling over. “I’m sorry, but the image of little Tae boxing a little sheet with two holes for eyes is really sending me.”

Half your guests laughed at the thought. The other more believing half still stared at you inquisitively.

An awkward silence.

“Ghosts are real.” Jennifer started, effortlessly drawing all eyes to her. “I used to live in a haunted house when I was a kid.”

She put her drink down and folded her hands across her lap, suddenly immersed in thought and careful about what she was about to share.

“In my childhood home, there was a garden in the backyard. Almost everyday, at sunset, I’d look out the window and see this lady circling the flowers and humming to herself. After ten minutes or so, she would disappear into thin air. I told my parents but they never believed me.”

She paused, either for dramatic effect or to recollect.

“Until one day, my mom saw her too. And when she went out to confront what she thought was an intruder, the lady disappeared before her eyes. My mom then did some digging about the history of the house and it turns out, the previous owner was outside gardening when she had a heart attack and died.”

A pregnant pause hung in the air as everyone silently digested the anecdote.

“That’s fucking terrifying, please tell me your parents moved houses after that.” Hoseok broke the silence first, pleading with watery eyes.

Namjoon’s wife laughed, reaching for her drink once more. “How is it scary? The lady was just checking on her garden in the afterlife. However, I then grew up really interested in supernatural stuff.” She turned to you. “There’s some tell-tale signs that a home has a spirit attached to it. Cold spots, shadow figures, whispers, scary dreams and the biggest of all: always feeling like you're being watched, even if there’s no one else in the room.”

You quietly thought to yourself. Were there any cold spots in the home? No. Any shadow figures? Nope. Whispers and nightmares? Nada.

But…the last one, being watched when no one is there.

If you really focused on your intuition, you faintly felt that even now amongst all these people, you were being watched by something unknown.

Goosebumps raised on the surface of your arms.

Chills ran down your spine and you shivered, the reaction causing Taehyung to grasp you tighter against him in what was supposed to be comfort.

You felt even more cold.

“We haven’t had any of that. Really guys, it’s taken care of.” Your boyfriend told the room, effectively shutting down the paranormal subject.

You assumed Taehyung felt a bit defensive of his ghost expelling skills, either that or he genuinely wanted another topic of discussion.

You then felt a little bad, it was still his night after all and here you were unintentionally ruining it with your little ghost stories. The focus of the room should be on him and his achievements, not everyone's supernatural beliefs and stories.

“Taehyung is right, it’s all resolved. But I’d like to ask all of you to fill up your glasses one last time, and raise them with me, ” While they did that you quickly scanned the room, “Um, except maybe you, Yoongi. Feel free to sit this one out, bud.” You laughed as the drunk man just grumbled at you, defiantly snatching another beer and holding it high while swaying on his feet.

Hopefully he wasn’t the one driving home.

You cleared your throat, “I'd like to propose a toast to our own Taehyung. Everyone in this room knows it was only a matter of time before your artistic genius was recognized by the world, but that doesn’t make us any less proud than we are of you tonight. To the first of many showings! To Taehyung!”

“To Taehyung!” the room loudly parroted back, everyone thrusting their drinks of choice in the air before knocking them back.

The artist beside you laughed and shook his head, “Really, guys it’s no big deal. Just a few paintings that I’m lucky even got sold. But thanks so much for making it. Most of you-” he snapped a side eye where Jimin sat, “have supported me so much, I’m just happy to have such a great group of friends.”

Said friends all smiled and nodded, although a few caught on to Taehyung’s subliminal dig and warily looked over at your ex.

Jimin pursed a tight smile, clearly trying to be nice and not make it obvious that he was the outsider at the party. You caught his eye and shot him a sorry look, but he shook his head in what was clearly meant to say “don’t worry about it.”

Your boyfriend continued, “However! ‘Friends’ don’t really beat ‘love of my life’. So without getting into all the lewd details of how I plan to spend my night celebrating, I’m going to need you all to start clearing out,” Taehyung smirked. “Y/n is a screamer.”

“Ew!” Lisa shouted, beside her Jungkook was suddenly unable to make eye contact with you.

The older men in the room just cackled. You slapped the artist's chest while trying to hide your blood red face.

Taehyung ducked and mouthed at your ear to whisper, “Sorry baby, but you know it’s true. And don’t act like you don’t want them out sooner rather than later.”

You wanted to be mad, but understood he was tipsy and riding on the high of his showing. So instead you played along and harshly whispered to him, “I doubt you can make me scream tonight. It’s not right to be misleading to your friends.”

He tiled your head to make you face him.

Taehyungs’ left brow twitched in vexation, his lips pulling back in a little growl. He looked around to make sure the guests were distracted with finishing their drinks or saying their goodbyes to each other. When he confirmed no eyes were on you two, he secretly placed his hand at the back of your head, running his long fingers through your hair and stopping right at the ends, to quickly form a fist and pull.

It was just one short tug, but the power of it made you gasp.

You would be lying if you said it didn’t make you a little wet too.

You had no idea where this came from. He never pulled your hair. Your boyfriend wasn’t rough and was one of those really progressive artists types that viewed any kind of manhandling in the bedroom as sort of sexist. But when you peered up at him, with the doe eyes he said he loved so much, and saw the clouded nature of his gaze, you just knew that inebriated Tae was very different from sober Tae.

Black and white, really.

‘I’m in for quite the night’ you thought to yourself while biting your lip, inwardly smug at how Taehyung transparently honed in on the action.

“Um, hey I think I’ll take my leave first.” You looked up to see Jimin awkwardly shifting in front of you two, a blacked out Molly in his hold.

“Oh god! Is she okay?” You exclaimed, noting the poor girl looked dead.

The dancer chuckled, “Yeah, she just gets really hyper when she's drunk then passes out after a bit. Ironically, sleep is all she needs I guess since she always wakes up good as new. No hangover.”

“Here let me show you out. I can help put her in the car.” You offered, already detangling yourself from Taehyung. He made a small sound of protest and made move to hold you tighter.

You placed a hand on his shoulder and consoled him with a smile, “You wanted people to leave, so we should help everyone get home safe. Can you check on Yoongi and maybe see if Namjoon and Jennifer can take him home?”

He looked conflicted, carefully sizing Jimin up through his peripheral. You wanted to roll your eyes. Although tipsy Taehyung was apparently a sexy beast, he was also an immature toddler who needed to be tricked.

You got on your tippy toes to whisper in his ear, “The quicker we get people out, the quicker you get me all to yourself.”

That seemed to convince him as he reluctantly stomped away in the direction of the couple, shooting one more guarded look at the dancer.

With that you led Jimin to the front door, even helping him put Molly’s heels back on before stepping out into the driveway and walking him to his car.

Silently, he opened the car and laid her in the backseat, tucking her in with his jacket. Then he shut the door, but instead of walking around to the driver spot, he turned to you and sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck.

“So….”

“Look, I’m sorry about Taehyung. I didn’t even tell him you were an ex but he’s just been really possessive and weird lately. It’s not just you.” You informed him, hoping to make him feel better.

Jimin just waved it off with a chuckle, “No, I get it. You’re really gorgeous, kind and talented. I also struggled with jealousy when we were together. Can’t really blame him.”

You hoped your blush wasn’t too prominent as you said, “Yeah, but you were always nice to people regardless of feeling possessive. He was just rude. Again, I’m sorry.”

“Well, you can’t really date someone breathtaking if you’re going to be an insecure prick about it.”

You gaped like a fish at the implication you were still breathtaking in Jimin’s eyes. Words were suddenly hard to come by.

It was silent for a moment, the tension between you two as thick as it can possibly get for two past lovers.

“Y/n…why didn’t you tell him we dated?”

“L-Like I said, he’s already been acting jealous and I didn’t want him to focus on that when it was his night. Besides, It’s not like-”

“I broke up with Molly.”

“…What?”

“It happened on the way to your after party, she was upset that I still held a candle for you. And yeah, I couldn’t drag her along when I never felt half of what I felt for you, for her. I just said it without thinking, terrible timing of course. But that’s pretty on brand for me, I suppose.” He attempted a joke.

You smiled politely, although you had no idea how you should feel.

He continued, “I just thought I should say sorry because the reason she was such a drunk and sloppy mess in your home was because I carelessly dumped her on the way there.”

“It’s um, okay Jimin. She wasn’t the only drunken mess tonight. I hope you two manage to stay friends.” You said, then after a beat added, “And that you find what you’re looking for.”

“Listen, I know you're with Taehyung and happy but, I think there was some kind of misunderstanding about our breakup. I’m not trying to be a homewrecker or anything, but can we get a coffee sometime and just…talk?”

You smiled, finding no harm in the offer. “Sure-”

“No.”

You gasped and whipped around to see Taehyung standing behind you, arms crossed and hell in his eyes as he glowered down at Jimin.

How did he get there without being spotted or heard?

It's like he fabricated out of nowhere.

“I suggest you get in your car, leave and never speak to her again.”

Your ex held his hands up in surrender, “Look man, I wasn’t trying anything-”

“What kind of guy goes to their ex when she’s clearly in a happy and healthy relationship, and tries to drudge up the past in the name of closure? Fuck your closure. You lost her, and now I have her. And trust me, she has better things to do than getting coffee with the guy who broke her heart.”

“Please, Taehyung-”

You were cut off.

His voice was the lowest you’ve ever heard it, eyes pitch black and face blank as he calmly finished, “It’s pathetic. You’re pathetic. And if I see you again I’m going to break your kneecaps and skin you alive, you little spineless boy. Run along now. While you still can.”

The threats were so visceral and promising, coupled with a man who looked downright murderous yet somehow calm. As if he had done it before and doing it again would be more so an inconvenience than a whole life-ending ordeal.

In this moment, you didn’t know your own boyfriend and you were terrified with this new persona.

No one moved or spoke, in fear one step or word would make Taehyung good on his promise.

You and Jimin were paralyzed, like two helpless deer in the presence of a blood thirsty wolf, the only hope was to stay still and go unnoticed. You met your ex’s eyes and while he did look afraid, he was focused only on you and your proximity to Taehyung.

Jimin was fearful. Not for himself, but for you.

And while you wanted your ex to run away, you were also scared to be left alone with someone so different from your usual Taehyung.

How could a few drinks and some jealousy cause such a behavior?

“Hey what’s going on here?”

Namjoon and Jennifer were babysitting a toddling Yoongi, the couple was also making way to their vehicle when they spotted the scene. The so-called ‘leader’ of the gang was quick to pick up on Taehyung’s aggressive stance, probably prompting him to get involved.

You felt your body lighten in relief.

Namjoon was always good at calming people down and taking control of situations.

Like a switch was turned on, your boyfriend grinned at the oncomers and nodded over at the dancer. Seemingly happy as a clam he chirped, “Nothing, hyung! Jimin here was just leaving. His poor girlfriend had too much, I think.”

Namjoon didn’t quite believe that, you and Jimin still looked rigid with alarm after all. Nonetheless, he played along for everyone’s sake. “Really? Maybe you should leave now then Jimin, get her in bed as soon as possible. It was nice meeting you.”

Jimin took the hint with grace and wordlessly ducked into his car, not acknowledging anyone else as he mouthed to you “call me”.

He started up the car, then slowly backed out of the driveway, and eventually down the road.

“Dude, are you sure you’re okay? It looked like you wanted to kill him.” Namjoon asked the artist.

Before hearing whatever bullshit was going to spew out of his mouth next, you promptly whipped around and stormed back into the house, making sure to purposefully shoulder-check your boyfriend as hard as you could in the process.

What the fuck was wrong with the bastard?!

Talking as though he was some offender or even a murder, just because your ex wanted to catch up?

You were so dreadfully embarrassed! Jimin must’ve thought you lost your mind after him and went off to date some real weirdos.

If you weren’t already on a lease with the man, this probably would’ve been the part where you blocked him and made it your personal mission to never see him again.

Instead, you busied yourself in the kitchen and washed most of the dirty dishes your guests left behind. You hoped Taehyung was wise enough to leave you alone, if the jerk knew what was good for him.

About 15 minutes had passed, and the kitchen was nearly as spotless as it was before the party had started, thanks to your furious cleaning and scrubbing. The house was now silent, and you were just debating putting all your spices in alphabetical order when you heard a shuffle behind you.

You snapped around and instantly scoffed at the sight.

Taehyung was leaning against the doorframe, hands in his pockets and fixing a sheepish look at you.

“So…that got a little out of hand.”

You barked a disbelieving laugh. “More like you got out of hand, Taehyung. Threatening people like you’re some felon! Wouldn't be a surprise if there’s a rumor spreading about me dating a serial killer now."

“Y/n, I’m sorry. But please let me make it up to you.”

“Make it up to me? Your actions cannot be undone Taehyung! I cooked and cleaned after your friends and tried to make this night special for you. I just wanted you to have a nice night and be nice, and you flip out over a platonic coffee date? Who do you think I am? A slut who will open her legs to any ex who talks to me?!”

“W-what? No- Of course not! Please don’t think-”

“What the hell am I supposed to think, asshole?! Even if Jimin still had feelings for me, it would take me reciprocating them for anything to happen! You clearly don’t trust me, and if that’s the case, then what are we doing here? Should we just become roommates or something?”

A painful struck his face, watery eyes met yours when he choked out, “Do you even hear yourself? Why would I try to fight your ex if I truly didn’t love you? You’re mine, and I love you so much it’s just…I can act a little crazy sometimes.”

You sighed, turning your back on him to lean on the sink in exhaustion.

“I thought you were different from other guys, Tae. That caveman shit is extremely degrading to not only you, but especially me.”

“I’m sorry…it’s just a primal part of me that I can’t turn off. Give me a chance to make it up to you.”

You shot a look over your shoulder at him, still pissed.

He shot his hands up in the air, as if in defense. “You can still be mad at me all you want.”

“You’re sleeping on the couch for a week.”

“Done.”

“And….And you’re forgetting all about those stupid cameras.”

He quirked a grin, unknown mirth dancing in his eyes. “Sure.”

“At the end of the week, you will personally apologize to Jimin via a phone call or letter.”

His smile dropped, your glare sharpened, “Umm..fine okay. It won’t be sincere though.”

You rolled your eyes, “Doesn’t have to be, it’s the right thing to do so you’ll do it.”

“…anything else?”

“Not for now. I’m going to bed soon so if there’s anything you need from the room, get it now.”

He wordlessly turned around, and you then faintly heard him going up the stairs.

Biting your lip in deep thought, you proceed to wipe off the last of the counters.

Could you forgive him? When he was willing to do all that to appease you?

If you were being honest with yourself, you could feel the irritation already start to melt away a bit. You hadn’t expected such a 180 in his stance, he went from threatening Jimin with murder to begrudgingly agreeing to apologize within only a matter of half an hour or so. You thought you would have to at least give him the silent treatment for a bit before you could even bargain a “sorry” for your ex. Taehyung was usually much more stubborn…

Nonetheless though, you were still upset and embarrassed about the scene.

You hated when men got violent around you, it made you feel so unsafe and small. You thought Taehyung was different, him even poking fun at the meatheads who would pull stuff like that at the local bars you would frequent while dating. So what changed?

Footsteps slowly descended back down the stairs, telling you that Taehyung had returned from your bedroom and it was safe to go up.

You left the kitchen, turned off the lights and passed through the hallway. Briefly you stopped, just short of the stairs, to see your boyfriend grumbling to himself while arranging some blankets on the couch.

A sudden and chilling thought ripped from your lips before you could even quietly ponder it.

“Taehyung…how did you know Jimin was my ex?”

He stopped in his tracks, slowly turning to face you with a blank look.

“Uh, Lisa might have slipped up and told me.”

You relaxed, unknowingly releasing a breath you had been holding. “Hmm, okay. We’ll talk tomorrow then. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight baby.”

“Oh! Let me get some water first, can you check that the doors were locked?” You asked while skipping back towards the kitchen. You hated waking up with a dry mouth and always kept a glass of water on your nightstand, restless bathroom trips be damned.

You didn’t hear any response to your request, but you paid it no mind, assuming Tae probably already double, if not triple, checked the locks being the worrywart that he was.

Right next to the kitchen entrance was the basement door, and it was shut.

Yet, something stopped you in your tracks.

The light under the basement door…it was on?

“Well I don’t have any more beer up here. Just wine. There might be some more in the basement, though.”

It couldn’t be….could it?

Your intuition was hollering at you from within.

A force greater than you pulled you to the door handle.

Against yourself, you opened the door to the basement…

And choked back a horrified scream.

At the bottom of the stairs lay Taehyung.

Unconscious, pale and bleeding horrifically from some head wound that was forming an inky pool under his crumpled form.

It wasn’t your Taehyung that returned upstairs.

So...this has been sitting in my drafts for over a year lol. I do have a dramatic ending in mind and some final scenes but yea, I don't think I could finish this unless people actually wanted it so let me know if this is a plot you kinda liked? I never tried flat-out supernatural horror like this. Anyway, happy October guys! Love you all. Luna :)

positive - jjk

summary: you take a test in which the results will completely change your life || warnings: idk reader is pregnant? || genre: fluff, established relationship, pregnancy au || word count: approximately 1100

I sat on the couch, trying my best to be patient and just wait for Jungkook to get home since he was bound to be any minute now. I was stressing and worried because, there was a chance that I could be pregnant.

I’m startled when I hear the sound of the front door unlocking. I glance over at the electronic intercom system on the wall and see Jungkook on the screen of it, opening the door and walking inside. I then look over and see the hallway light turn on.

I get up from the couch and walk down the hall, wanting to get there before my boyfriend took his shoes off. When I got to the end of the hall, I’d gotten there just in time as he was about to start untying his shoelaces.

“Jungkook.” I say and he looks up at me, giving me a small smile.

“Hey, princess.” He greets me.

“Can we go to the store?” I ask.

“Uh, okay. Come on.” Jungkook says without questioning anything at first. He stands up and we walk out of the apartment, going down the elevator and heading to the parking garage.

We get in the car and Jungkook starts it up, backing out of the parking spot. “So, what do you need, princess? Did you finally get your period? Do you need tampons/pads?” He asks as he starts to drive out of the parking garage.

“Well,” I think for a moment, “it’s kind of the opposite. I still haven’t gotten my period and I just, felt like I should get a pregnancy test just to make sure because usually my periods are never a week late.” I tell him.

He takes in what I said for a moment before nodding, “Okay, then let’s go to CVS and get a pregnancy test.” Jungkook says. I look at him, trying to analyze how he was feeling but I honestly couldn't tell.

Jungkook pulled into a parking spot and shut the car off. He unbuckled his seatbelt and I did the same as we got out of the car. We walked into the store and I made my way to the aisle that had the pregnancy tests, plan b, and all of that stuff.

I look at the pregnancy tests and pick out one, getting two of them just to be sure. Jungkook and I go to the counter to pay and I awkwardly hand the tests to the cashier. I mean, we're grown, there was no reason for me to be embarrassed but I was. Jungkook pulls out his card and pays for them.

"Good luck." The cashier says as she hands Jungkook the small bag with the two tests and the receipt.

He just gives her a small smile as he puts his hand on the small of my back and leads me away and out of the store. He opens my car door for me and I get inside, buckling my seatbelt before he hands me the small bag and shuts the door, going to the drivers seat.

At first, it's silent as Jungkook starts driving us home but eventually, he breaks the silence. "You know that no matter the result, I'll be here for you." He reassures me.

"I know." I say, nodding.

"I just, if you were pregnant, it's not like we couldn't support the baby. Well, if you wanted to keep the baby. That's your choice, I'm just.. I'm just saying." Jungkook tells me.

"I would.. I would want to keep the baby, if I was pregnant." I shyly respond.

"Oh," is Jungkook's only response. "I would like that." He tells me before connecting his hand with mine that rested in my lap, intertwining our fingers together as he handled the wheel with his other hand.

Truth be told, we were both kind of getting ahead of ourselves. I mean, I hadn't even taken the test yet, it's not like it was definite that I was pregnant. I guess we both kind of had a feeling that, that was the case though but neither of us would say that.

When we arrived at home, I walked over to the bathroom, the small bag in my hand. Jungkook stood in front of me, a little nervous but it wasn't obvious, as he leaned down and kissed me. I kissed him back for a few moments before we both pulled away and I made my way into the bathroom, shutting the door behind me.

After I'd peed on the sticks, I'd put them on counter and set a timer on my phone for three minutes. I didn't know this but Jungkook was sat with his back against the door, anxiously waiting for me.

Those three minutes were the longest three minutes of my life but finally, the timer went off and the results were ready. Jungkook had gotten up off of the floor and stood outside, ready to hear the results. I sighed as I stopped the timer and anxiously checked the tests.

Positive. Both tests were positive. I was pregnant. I was actually pregnant.

"You okay, baby?" I heard Jungkook ask from outside the door.

I grabbed the tests and walked over to the door, opening it. Jungkook looked into my eyes and without even having to look down, he could tell what the results were just from the way I looked up at him. He looked down anyway, just to make sure that his answer was right, and well, the tests confirmed his thoughts.

I burst into tears, I didn't know why. It was frankly just overwhelming. All of it. Jungkook immediately took the tests from my hand, putting it on the counter again before he engulfed me into a hug. Moments later, Jungkook was also crying. We stayed like that for a while.

Jungkook ended up calming down before me but once I did, Jungkook pulled away a little, still holding me as he comfortingly patted my head.

"How do you feel?" Jungkook asked, just wanting to be there for me.

"Anxious but excited but just.. scared. I'm scared." I tell him.

"I know, princess. I'm scared too." Jungkook tells me. "But it'll be okay, right? We'll work through this, all of this, together." He says and I can't help but smile.

"You're going to be a dad." I softly say.

He smiles back at me, "And you're going to be a mom." He says before leaning down and giving a long and loving kiss on the lips. Although he was scared, he was ready to go through this journey with you and to be there for you. And, well, your future child.

-- link to my masterlist

Angel Eyes

𓆩♡𓆪Pairing: Patient! Jungkook x Reader

𓆩♡𓆪WC: 8.2k

𓆩♡𓆪Content Warning: hospital romance, mentions of birth, blizzard, car accidents, smthn abt soulamtes, ft Jin, medical emergencies, making out, jk is a free spirit, tattoos, rehabilitation, they're so cute, cafeteria dates, meet cute, weddings, sexual themes, comas, newborn baby, angsttt :(

The double doors to the emergency room burst open with a team of paramedics meeting a team of nurses over the limp body that was being rushed in on a gurney.

"26-year-old male. One of many from the four-car pile-up on Highway 400. Blunt head trauma —shattered ribs, compound fractures in both legs. He's unconscious, showing premature signs of decline. We need to get him stabilized immediately."

"Prepare the operation room." One of the nurses orders and the chaos moves around the corner with the gurney.

A team of trauma surgeons and nurses worked frantically to stabilize him. He was quickly assessed for injuries, and diagnostic tests revealed the extent of the damage he had sustained

The man suffered from internal injuries, including a punctured lung and severe abdominal trauma. There was a point when doctors were sure he wouldn't make it but they were wrong.

After undergoing several surgeries in the first few days following the accident, including procedures to repair his fractured bones, remove damaged tissue, and stabilize his internal injuries he was beginning to show small signs of improvement.

However, it was only the beginning of a very long and hard journey for him.

𓆩♡𓆪 2 months later

"Where is she?" You stand up at the sight of your brother-in-law, Jin rushing into the waiting room of the labour and delivery wing. Face flushed and hair a bit frazzled. He'd obviously run here from the parking lot.

"Down the hall to your left. They're just running some tests and checking the baby." He pauses in his steps, letting it all sink in. Placing a hand on his chest as he tried to stabilize his breathing.

Taking the chance to place a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Everything is going to be okay, breathe." You encourage, taking tips from the Lamaze classes your sister had made the three of you take in preparation for this baby.

He smiles before making his way to his wife and out of sight.

Meanwhile, you stayed put in the waiting room as your sister made it very clear she did not want you in the room any time her vagina was out and you weren't going to argue.

Seeing that the doctors needed to check up on the baby once the two of you arrived no less than 15 minutes ago, you had already excused yourself to the hall.

Once you saw the familiar nurse you remember being assigned to your sister walk past you, you deemed it was safe enough to return to her room. Knocking first with your hand over your eyes.

There was soft laughter, "It's been put away, you can open your eyes." Eunji says, allowing you to lower your palm from your gaze to see Seokjin sitting on a chair nestled near Eunji's bedside.

"Wow, they've got you hooked up like a TV." You snort, pointing to the IV drip, pulse oximeter, and various other tubes taped to her arm.

Shaking her head at your typical Y/n-Antics but refusing to acknowledge your joke any further. "What did the nurse say?" Jin asks, almost anxiously, taking her hand in his.

"The baby is fine, she's healthy, but I'm a long way from giving birth. Apparently-" Eunji pauses, her eyes squeezing shut just as they did back at your place when the two of you discovered she'd been having contractions.

Taking deep breaths she opens her eyes and resumes speaking as if it never happened, "Apparently I'm only one centimeter dilated. I'm already tired of this place." She pouts sadly while Jin gently moves a stray hair from out of her face.

You sighed internally, hoping that one day you'd find that.

"I'm just glad you guys made it here safely. The roads are getting worse with that blizzard coming in tonight." Jin shares which prompts you to check your phone while the couple talks about what a normal couple would discuss at a time like this.

Jin was right. There in fact was a blizzard heading your way and it was nasty. Up to six feet of snow in some regions and harsh winds. It was practically impossible to see the road through all the flurries on your way here.

It was unsafe for anyone to be driving at a time like this hence why Eunji had already begged your parents to stay home until the roads were safe. No matter how much she knew your parents wanted to be present for the birth of their first grandchild it was just too dangerous.

This winter was packed with a punch this year. You can't forget the first major storm of the season about two months ago that blindsided everyone.

The severity of the storm dawns on you as you remember driving past a nasty collision on the highway on your way home from work.

You could only hope that this would be the end of the strenuous icy season and that spring would be just around the corner. You were looking forward to the blossoming season of spring but not as much as you were looking forward to holding your niece in your arms in just a few short hours.

𓆩♡𓆪

Clearly, you and your niece weren't on the same page.

It's been 4 hours and the hospital was on lockdown, any visitors in the building were forbidden from leaving due to the severity of the storm outside. Honestly, some part of you believed you would have been able to hold your niece and go home all in the last three hours, but oh how you were wrong.

"What do you mean you're only 3 centimetres along?" You say, exhausted from waiting. "Oh, I'm sorry Y/n, are you tired? How inconsiderate of me!" She exclaims, clearly annoyed with you.

You dropped your shoulders, you deserved that. Eunji had been battling her contractions restlessly for hours on end, you couldn't imagine how she felt.

"Do you want me to get you anything?" She shakes her head while Jin returns with a full cup of ice for her to chew on. Your stomach rumbles, and not quietly.

"You should go down to the cafeteria and get something to eat. I'll stay with Eunji." Jin offers and you nod, deciding it was time for a break anyway.

With your bag slung over your shoulder, you stood in the café line, unsure what to get before deciding to get a typical iced coffee and a turkey sandwich.

Once it came time to find a spot, your eyes were scanning every nook and cranny of the filled cafeteria due to the overwhelming number of people trapped in this building just as you were.

Finally, you found one available spot, at an occupied table. "Is anyone sitting here?" You ask the man who was enjoying his own coffee. "It's all yours," He smiles and you reciprocate it as you take a seat.

Paying him no mind as you bite into your meal and pull out the book you've been reading over the last few weeks.

"The String of Fate," The man across from you mumbles as he reads the title of your book causing your eyes to flicker to his. "What's it about?" You close the book almost too eagerly.

"Do you believe in soulmates?" He blinks at you.

"Y'know, like two people that are destined to be together no matter the time or place." His brow arches. "Not a chance." You frown, "Well, basically this book explains the concept of soulmates and how they're connected by this invisible string between them that will always guide them back to each other. No matter the time or place."

He sighs heavily, head now resting on his hand. "I'm gonna take a shot in the dark here and assume that you believe in soulmates?"

"What's there not to believe? It makes total sense-" You ask, about to take your first bite of your sandwich. "I wouldn't eat that if I were you," He says quickly, and you close your mouth, placing the sandwich back down.

"Why not?" He simply stares at you, "Trust me. I've been here long enough to know." You nod slowly, "You must visit a lot."

With a shrug of his shoulders, he finishes the last of his coffee, "Something like that." He mumbles.

Your stomach reminds you of the hunger you'd just permitted to exist longer all in the name of this handsome stranger you'd just met. "So what can I eat here?"

He grins and your stomach twists.

"Follow me." You pack up your stuff and stand. Unable to process your thoughts once the man moves away from the table in his wheelchair.

"Oh c'mon, don't give me that look." He sighs.

"What look?" You counter, genuinely confused.

"That look of 'oh my gosh, he's in a wheelchair. Now everything is different.'" He says in a slightly raised tone.

"First of all, I didn't think that at all. I was just shocked." He looked almost deflated until you spoke up, "So are we still getting jello or what?" He smiles, leading the way.

-

"Hey! Hey! Mister Lightning McQueen, do you mind slowing down a bit? Or at least tell me your name so I don't have to keep yelling mister." You pant, finally catching up to him at the end of the hall.

"Sorry." He flushes a light pink before a quick clearing of his throat, "I'm Jungkook." He stretches his hand and you shake it gently, "Y/n." You say, the two of you hold hands a little longer than necessary before a visitor attempts to get by and you pull your hand away first.

Fast forward to the two of you sitting on the chairs in god knows which wing of the hospital, the building was so damn big. Licking the spoons of your delicious cherry jello as you were both facing the window that looked out into the midnight sky.

"So what brings you here tonight?" He asks as he scoops around his cup for another spoonful. "My sister is giving birth. At least that's what I thought was supposed to happen but the baby doesn't want to come yet." He laughs, "That's amazing. Not the part about the baby holding your sister's womb hostage but- you know what I'm trying to say."

Unable to control your laughter at his bizarre wording, "Yeah, I get it." A silence falls between the two of you, sitting on your shoulders. You wanted to say something but you weren't sure- "It's okay, Y/n. You can ask." He speaks without even looking at you. Focused on getting his next spoon of jello.

"How did you end up here?" You ask and Jungkook begins the age-old story. He was coming home from work during that crazy storm 2 months ago. He said he didn't remember much from the actual accident, one second he's in his lane and the next there's an eighteen-wheeler sliding right into him and dragging two others in with him.

"I don't even remember being rushed in here, I just remember waking up 3 days later and the doctors telling me I was lucky to be alive. Telling me I had basically injured every bone I had. Head trauma, shattered ribs, a punctured lung, fractured both my legs- and the list goes on."

Your jaw falls open. Hand raising to cover your mouth for two reasons.

"You really are lucky to be alive."

It seems that Jungkook disagrees, "Yet I don't feel all that lucky. I wake up to the same faces, getting poked at and pricked every hour. Going to rehab every other day, my body hurts constantly. I can't even count how many painkillers and antibiotics I take every morning." You frown.

"I'm grateful to be making progress of course, but sometimes It feels like the world is passing me by while I'm standing still-- or sitting, for that matter.." You'd never connected to anything more.

"I totally understand. Under different circumstances of course, but I think I get what you mean. Ever since I was 7 I'd had this perfect vision of how my life should be by the time I was 25. A nice house, with a loving husband and maybe a baby on the way with my six-figure paying job but here I am, 26, sitting in a waiting room, single, waiting for my sister to have a baby so that I can go home to my office job that sure as hell doesn't pay enough for a nice house."

Your story provokes a soft chuckle to come rumbling from Jungkook's chest and you swat at him. "And it's like, you want to take steps forward but it's almost like you can't because everything is out of your control. The most decisive factor of a good life is controlled by everyone but you. It sucks." Jungkook expands on your thoughts further and you'd never felt so seen before.

"I-" You begin but the PA system begins to blare someone's voice as they make an announcement.

"Code Yellow. Code Yellow." Jungkook's vision darts to his wristwatch. "Shit. It's been an hour already?" You weren't following, "What's going on?" Jungkook begins to roll back, tossing away his garbage in the bin while you stand and do the same.

"Code yellow is just their dramatic way of declaring a patient is missing. Although-" His eyes fly past you and to whoever was behind you, it was a furious nurse. "Jeon Jungkook." She says and he groans, "I know- I know."

Jungkook hardly got to speak before he was being pushed away back to wherever his room was. "I hope your sister has a safe delivery." You stand still in the middle of the hall as you watch Jungkook get whisked out of sight.

Unable to stop thinking about how disappointed he looked once that nurse appeared. Clearly, he didn't want to go back. You couldn't shake what he told you, about seeing the same people every day, following the same painful routine.

You wondered if he had any family that visited him.

Speaking of which, it was time for you to return to your own.

𓆩♡𓆪

7 hours later you were finally holding the most perfect baby girl in your arms. "She's beautiful, Eunji," you say tearfully, staring at the adorable infant who was just so tiny in your arms.

"I can't believe I'm holding your baby right now." You say to no one in particular while Seokjin stands behind you looking down at the baby, he looks like he's still in awe himself.

Carefully passing her back into your sister's tired arms. You had the honour of taking their first family photo. With Seokjin's eyes full of love and your sister displaying the happiest smile you'd ever seen.

"She's perfect." You hear him whisper with a kiss to Eunji's forehead and your heart just about melts at the heartwarming sight.

𓆩♡𓆪 7 days later

The moment that you left that hospital that morning you felt almost... sad? Like you had a happiness hangover. You were truly overjoyed, you finally got to meet your niece and you met Jungkook who left an unanticipated imprint on your brain.

You tapped your nails against the desk in your cubicle, your bottom lip tucked between your teeth as your eyes glanced at the time at the bottom of the computer screen.

Your break was in 20 minutes, you had an hour to do whatever and sure, you could spend it here continuing your work so that you could go home earlier...but the hospital is nearby...

No more than a 10-minute drive.. maybe you could drop by? Just for a little?

You didn't leave yourself much time to debate it as you were already marching out of the office the moment the clock hit 12. You'd decided to pick up some flowers from the gift shop on your way up.

Following the receptionist's instructions that she gave you to locate his room with a nervous click of your heels with each step. What if he didn't want to see you? Does he even remember you?

You saw him through the glass window briefly and adjusted yourself to an angle where he couldn't see you. He was just laying there. Staring up at the ceiling, but he sat up once a nurse walked in.

It seemed that she was doing some routine checkups before pricking him with a needle of some kind. You'd always been the type to squirm with needles yet he was unfazed, it was like he couldn't even feel it.

Once she left she passed you with a small smile. Slowly you walk to the door and his gaze slowly drags towards you. His eyes smile before his lips, and he sits up.

"Y/n!" He says with such a joyful tone, you would never expect the voice to belong to someone sitting in a hospital bed. "Hi," You say, unsure of what to do with the flowers.

"Don't tell me you're still waiting for your sister to give birth." He says with a little sarcasm and you laugh with a shake of your head. "No, little miss Seol-a came fashionably late."

"As in 'snow child'? That's a perfect name." You agree. Watching him as his gaze drops to your arms. "Oh- These are for you." Bringing the small bouquet of tiger lilies to him, he accepts it gratefully.

"Thank you-- Really, you didn't have to. You visiting me is more than enough of a gift, and they're Tiger Lilies, too. Fun fact, that's actually my birth flower." It was like a lightbulb had gone off in your head but you ignored it.

Maybe that was just a coincidence, but you didn't like that word. You preferred to use something much stronger, that starts with an 'F', and ends with an 'ate'.

"Pull up a chair, please. I don't want to be the only one sitting." He insists, gesturing to the chair near the wall and you bring it a bit closer.

Letting out a soft sigh of relief once you were off your feet, "God, I hate heels." You mutter, "I'm guessing you have to wear them for that magical job of yours," Your face turns sour, "Magic isn't the word I'd use to describe it,"

Just like that the two of you fell down a rabbit hole of conversation, exchanging work experiences and even phone numbers at one point.

"So tell me, Y/n. In a perfect world, if you could just drop everything, what would you do?" You pretended to give it thought as if you hadn't known for the last decade. "I'd want to open a hair salon... Is that crazy? I don't think I've ever actually said that out loud before."

"What's stopping you?" You laugh, a little too hard, thinking of the dozens of reasons why it wasn't practical and way too impulsive but the longer you looked at his neutral expression you began to reflect on the reasons.

And they all came back to the same root, "What if I fail?" He shrugs, "You can't fail unless you give up." You couldn't believe you were actually considering this. Shaking your head dramatically, clearing your brain.

"You're such a bad influence, y'know? I can't believe you really almost made me do that." His bunny-like smile is on display when he speaks, "That wasn't me, that was your instinct. For a brief second, you just listened to your heart."

Woah.

"Wanna see something cool?" His hand raises and gestures to his lower body, and you watch as the blankets begin to stretch over the small peak that began to form under the covers as he bends his left knee slightly.

"Jungkook! That's incredible." You gasped, eyes wide and you weren't sure what came over you, but before you knew it you'd taken him in your arms.

His body was still a bit weak but his arms responded almost immediately. Holding you still for the short duration of the hug before you pulled away.

"Are you okay- I'm sorry, did I hurt you-" A small panic consumes you as Jungkook's eyes tint a faint red and well with tears. "No, no. You didn't do anything wrong. It's just been so long since someone's been so happy for me."

His words weighed down in your chest like a pile of bricks. "Does no one visit you?"

"All my friends and family came to visit right after the accident. Then it was just my best friends and my parents who came a few times a week. Soon people don't have time to visit someone who makes such little progress every day."

He continues to explain, "But I don't hold it against them. It's a time commitment. The real world is more demanding than I am and I just can't wait for the day I get to meet them out there."

Gently placing your hand on top of his, "You're gonna be out of here before you know it-" A familiar ringer goes off in your bag. You pull out your phone and stop the alarm. "Well, my break ends soon." You stand and you tell yourself that you're imagining the small frown peels over his lips.

Putting the chair back where you found it you walk to the door. "Bye Jungkook, it was good to see you again." With that, you walk away and Jungkook is left in despair. That was it? It's over?

You were just gonna walk into his room and bless him with the most revitalizing conversation he's ever had and you're leaving?

Before he gets the chance to deflate into his pillows your head pops back into the doorframe, "See you tomorrow." You wink and vanish once again. Knowing that you'd given him a little wave of sadness at first.

His shoulders shake with laughter, relieved.

𓆩♡𓆪

Staying true to your word, you in fact did go back to visit him the next day, except you went after your shift since 40 minutes simply wasn't enough time.

For the first few weeks of your daily visits, Jungkook was afraid that one day you would stop coming and he wouldn't see you again, but once three months had passed, there was no doubt in his mind he would walk out of this hospital without you by his side.

You'd even met his parents once, by accident of course. You were just leaving when they'd been walking in and of course, they had no idea who you were.

Telling them about how the two of you met was quite entertaining, Accidentally mentioning the part where Jungkook had been called a missing patient which earned him a soft pinch to his arm from his mother.

But you'll never forget the words his mother whispered in your ear as she hugged you. "Thank you for loving my son." Your cheeks flushed and you stuttered, trying to clarify things but she didn't want to hear it.

"It's okay, I know." She says with the most subtle of winks before walking off with her husband who shook your hand graciously.

Not every day was full of laughs and feasts that you'd bring him from the outside world, there were definitely down days. Days when the pain would call for a stronger dose of his medications which left him burnt out and groggy.

But there were also good days like today. You had the honour of helping Jungkook take some of his first steps for a few feet before being right behind him with the wheelchair.

You weren't able to stop your tears while Jungkook apologized to the physical therapist for your constant crying. You cried every time you saw him move on his own, but he thinks it's cute.

It's evident how much you care about him. By now your entire family knew about your blossomed friendship, and it seems he was all you could talk about. He could only hope that you knew how much he cared about you.

He would love to surprise you at work one day with lunch or take you to your favourite places. Alas, that was among the list of things he unfortunately couldn't control but promised to do once he got out.

He had a section of notes dedicated to you and all the places he would take you, it's what he always hid against his chest anytime you tried peaking.

-

"You won't believe what I just did!" Those are the first words that escape your mouth in the most dramatic of ways as you practically burst into his room.

He jolts, his book now falling forgotten from his fingers, you'd startled him and you apologized. You weren't usually here at noon. So he welcomes your explanation with a warm smile and curious eyes.

"So I went to work this morning, and they called us all in for a meeting. I was expecting another spontaneous workshop about professional behaviour or something. They drop this huge bomb on us that the company is downsizing so they're laying off a third of the company and basically cutting everyone's salary in half." It all comes out in a single breath, so you give yourself some time to breathe.

Jungkook wasn't following, "This sounds like... bad news? Am I missing something? Why do you look so happy?"

"Because I quit my job. I've been thinking about what you said for a while now, about following my heart, and I think I've always been waiting for some kind of sign or opportunity to just go for it, so today was the day." Now that you'd finally gotten the jitters out, you pulled up a chair.

"I know it's crazy, I don't know what I was thinking, but I just got off the phone with one of the property managers of those empty studios downtown and it was all so exciting and I don't even know where I'm going to get the money but I think I can-"

Jungkook finally silenced you with his lips.

He kissed you.

His lips were soft as they worked against yours. You could feel him smile as the kiss deepened. You moved out of your chair to the bed without breaking contact. Pulling away briefly for air but resuming as though you couldn't be apart for more than a second.

You weren't sure when you'd ended up on top of him with Jungkook on his back and your hips grinding down onto his softly, still a bit cautious.

"You have-" He kisses down your neck, peppering kisses between his words, "-No idea-" His lips kissing right below your ear, "-How long I've wanted to kiss you." His teeth gently nibble on the skin of your ear causing a whine to escape your lips.

Suddenly there was a fast beeping and it was only getting faster.

A nurse walks in and you just about throw yourself off of Jungkook and onto the ground. "What's going on in here? Your heart rate was way too fast, Mr. Jeon." He bites his lip nervously while you get yourself on your feet.

"Sorry, Nurse Lynn. I was just trying some new exercises and I guess I got a bit carried away." He says the last part with a lustful look in his eye when he glances towards you.

Once she left you let your hand cover your mouth in pure shock, laughing uncontrollably. "Oh my god, I can't believe that just happened." Jungkook throws his head back onto the pillows with a heavy breath.

"Those nurses can't let me have shit in here. I can't even rub one out in the shower without them barging in." Your jaw drops, "It's happened more times than I'd like to speak about." The shame that seems to swallow him up makes you laugh even harder.

-

"How's the salon going?" He's the first to ask you once you walk out of the bathroom and your shoulders drop. Taking a seat beside him on the bed, "It's a lot harder than I thought it would be. My contractor is being a total pain in the ass, but at least it's starting to come together, look-"

You swipe through the photos of the empty studio that was now painted. "I can't wait to see it." He says, and you look away from the screen. Focusing on his beautiful brown eyes. "Me too." He steals a sweet kiss from you before resuming his swipe through your phone with a cheeky grin.

For the first time, you noticed how empty his left arm was compared to his right. His right arm was covered in tattoos that the two of you had spent nearly an hour talking about once, while his left arm was blank.

"Why don't you have any tattoos on your left arm?" He places down your phone, making eye contact with you once again. "I wanna save it for something special, something meaningful, like the Batman symbol." His nerdy remark makes you snort.

𓆩♡𓆪

"Hi Jungko-Oh." This was unusual.

Of all the times you'd visited Jungkook, there was probably only one other time where you'd caught him sleeping, although that was a late night. It was only sometime around 3 in the afternoon.

You didn't want to disturb him, so you left him a little sticky note for him to read when he wakes up. You didn't want him to think that you never came.

The following day the two of you were having a bit of a hard time getting Jungkook out of bed. "I thought you wanted to do some more walking?" You offer, standing with his walker but he laid back unmotivated.

"Not today, maybe another day. I'm just a bit tired." He mumbles and you nod, "Oh. Okay." But your heart wasn't settled, something was wrong.

The week continued with his slow responses and fatigue. "Are you okay?" He hums, his eyes shutting tight as he grunts softly. "Yeah, just got a bit of a headache, that's all. I'll be better by tomorrow." He reassures you, and you insist on getting him some water.

"Nurse Lynn." You call out for the Nurse as you cross paths as you return from refilling Jungkook's water bottle. She stops and begins to approach you. "Jungkook has been acting a bit off lately. He's been really tired and he says he has a headache and I just want to know if anything is going on."

You can see that she really begins to think about anything it could be. You follow her as she goes off to check his charts. Looking through the window, Jungkook had already fallen asleep.

"His numbers seem to be fine, but we'll keep a close eye on them tonight and run some tests in the morning." Leaving you with a reassuring hand on your shoulder, but you still didn't feel any better.

You went home to your parents' house. You'd moved back home after impulsively quitting your job since there was no way you'd be able to afford your old apartment anymore. Besides, this arrangement made the most sense.

Now you were able to save your money and focus on your salon. The salon Jungkook had inspired you to open, god you couldn't stop thinking about him. Something felt off.

"Y/n?" Your dad snaps his fingers in front of you, finally catching your attention. "Sorry- What?"

"Your mom and I were wondering if you'd be joining us for dinner or if you already ate." You shake your head slowly, "It's okay, I'm not hungry."

"Is everything okay?'' Your stretches her neck from where she sat on the couch. "I don't know. Jungkook's been acting off lately and I just don't know if everything is okay." Anyone who heard you could hear the worry that wavered in your tone. You wanted nothing more than for him to be okay.

"Oh, honey." Your parents hugged you and for a moment you felt like everything was going to be okay.

Until it wasn't.

-

It was around 2 in the morning when you'd gotten a call from Jungkook's mom.

He'd gone into a coma.

You didn't find yourself to be a religious person yet you found yourself praying to any god in the sky who was listening as you drove to the hospital that he would be okay.

Running through the halls, letting out careless apologies to those you nearly bumped into as you did so. "What happened?!" You say frantically, his mother was in no state to speak, her eyes were bloodshot and her lips quivered whenever she tried to speak.

Instead, his father took on the role to tell you, "The doctors said there were unforeseen complications from his accident. There was some inflammation in his brain that went undetected and was applying pressure to his brain stem which is why he was experiencing those headaches and fatigue. They've done all they can to reduce the swelling, but there's no guarantee he'll-"

His dad struggles to finish his sentence, choking up a bit himself at the possibility of Jungkook never waking up. "C-Can I see him?" You swallow back your tears and that sore feeling in your throat as you walk in slowly.

You didn't want to cry, but the moment you saw him hooked up to all those machines, the same ones he hated so much, the way his body lay so still, it broke you.

Your cries came out more as wails than anything else, you couldn't say anything but his name. You weren't just crying, you were begging, pleading with the gods to spare him.

"Y/n-" You hear his dad's voice behind you, catching you in his arms just as you fall to your knees. He could have never anticipated a reaction quite like this one. It seems he underestimated how much Jungkook meant to you.

Now he knows.

All his friends and family knew.

As they trickled in and out of Jungkook's hospital room over the following weeks they would see you sitting by his side, the same way you did all the days before.

His mom liked to say you were there more than Jungkook was. She knew he was lucky, he'd found something special with you. A kind of love that was rare to come across these days.

You spent every waking moment beside him until visiting hours were over, and would be back the next morning the moment they begin. Your parents told you to keep yourself busy with your salon and you tried, but how could you when everything inside reminded you of him?

Today was a quiet day, with no visitors or flowers for you to find space for as his room was filled. You focused on reading to him. You'd been told that hearing familiar voices can help to stimulate brain activity and you were willing to do anything.

"As Batman ran through the dark streets of Gotham-" You chuckled to yourself, unable to take the story seriously.

According to his parents, this was his favourite comic book growing up, and you'd been reading it to him for the last few days, and yet you still weren't interested in DC.

You rummaged through the bag of books you had on the side, your fingertips grasped the familiar cover that started it all. "The String of Fate" You mumble, a soft smile as the title takes you back to the night you met.

Back then he was nothing more than an opinionated patient on the loose, and now, he was everything.

You opened the book, going back to the page you'd bookmarked as a favourite. Deciding to read it out loud for the sake of Jungkook hearing your voice.

"In the garden of destiny, soulmates blossom, each petal a reflection of the other's beauty, each leaf a testament to their shared growth. Together, they tend to the soil of their dreams, nurturing them with the water of their love, as they chase the sunsets of tomorrow, hand in hand, forever intertwined."

Your voice began to shake halfway through, and your tears landed on every other word. You closed the book, placing it back in the bag so that you could take Jungkook's hands in yours.

"Please," You whispered, "I love you."

It was no surprise to anyone. You had nothing but love for the man who changed your world for the better. He had no idea how much space he takes up in your head, your heart. It's his, it belongs to him.

"Can we come in?" There are soft knocks on the door and you're pleasantly surprised to see Jin and your sister, assuming the baby was with your parents.

"Thank you for coming," You hug them both, "If there's someone important enough that you went MIA during my labour, then I have to meet him." Eunji says jokingly and you smile sadly, "I just wish you got to meet under better circumstances."

The days turned to night then day once again, and the pattern continued endlessly for the following month. It just continued to repeat in this painful process of dwindling hope.

Nothing could have prepared you for the devastating conversation with the doctor this morning.

"Please understand, during this difficult time, we have carefully monitored Jungkook's minimal brain activity. Given the duration of his coma and after our intensive examination of his condition, if there were indications for a potential recovery leading to him waking up, we would have observed signs by now. I know this news is incredibly challenging to hear but-"

His mother wept.

"We're so sorry." The doctor says as if it was rehearsed, you couldn't imagine how many times he'd had to give such gut-wrenching news to other families.

You listened with a broken heart, unable to cry. You were all out of tears. You'd cried and cried your heart out all month, you couldn't bear the thought of it all being for such a tragic conclusion.

-

That was almost a week ago, you'd remained by Jungkook's side regardless. Never leaving, not moving.

"Y/n, Honey. You've been here all day, when's the last time you ate something, hm?" His mom gently tilted your chin upwards, you looked pale in colour and your eyes were dull with sorrow.

"I don't know, Tuesday maybe?"

It's Thursday night.

"Go." She orders, and you know that tone. She wasn't willing to negotiate this with you. She'd begun to care for you like a daughter of her own, and as much as she respected and adored your dedication to her son, it was just as important that you were healthy.

Still following Jungkook's advice, you avoided most of the shops in the cafeteria except for a select few that he deemed sanitary. Sitting at one of the tables by yourself, you poked at your food, not all that hungry but you took bites anyway.

Taking a long sip from your water bottle you ignored the buzzing from your phone. You're sure it's just the contractors giving you a hard time again. You were set to open in a few months from now and you'd never felt more grateful for your mom stepping in to help while you were.. away.

Your phone buzzes once more, you finally check the messages.

Ever since that night, every time Mrs. Jeon messaged you, it left you with a pit in your stomach, quite like the one in your stomach right now.

She was calling you back to Jungkook's room immediately.

Completely abandoning your half-eaten meal on the table as you rushed back up to the room you'd begun to know like the back of your hand.

There his parents were, teary-eyed as they sat outside his room, making calls and texting loved ones. Soon you saw a team of nurses walking out of his room with some medical technology that you're sure had very complicated names and--

Oh no.

Your brain was putting the pieces together. What was once a pit had evolved into a full-fledged sinkhole. Your hands were shaking as you walked into the room, eyes landing on his body, not expecting to meet his familiar brown orbs.

They blinked at you slowly. Just like the first time you'd visited, they smiled before his lips did. "There she is," His voice was weak, understandably but it still had that softness to it.

Your body was overwhelmed and unable to make any coherent sounds. You were standing still as a statue. You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth to stop your lips from quivering but you couldn't stop it.

Your breathing became shallow and the sound of your heart drumming in your ears seemed much louder than it did a minute ago. You felt like your eyes were playing tricks on you.

"Is it-" Your voice airy and broken, not wanting this to be a dream. You so desperately needed this to be real. He nods slowly with a grin, "It's me." Just when you thought you had no more tears left, there were more spilling down your cheeks.

Finally picking up your feet and walking over to him with broken sobs, meeting him at the side of the bed. On your knees with his arms around you while you held him in yours. "I thought I lost you." You swat him with teary eyes and a small laugh.

"You can never lose me, Y/n, and I want to make sure of that." He says, and your head tilts instinctively. "What do you mean?"

"Marry me."

Eyes wide and your mouth nearly kissing the floor.

"You can't be serious," Oh how you hoped he was serious.

"You've been by my side every step of the way. When I walk through those hospital doors one last time, I want to be beside the woman I love. Let me spend the rest of my life making you as happy as you've made me." Now he was the one getting misty eyes.

Your mouth struggled to keep up with the eager nodding of your head. "Yes." Holding his face in your hands and kissing him like you'd longed to do for weeks.

Finally.

"Wait- You don't have a ring," Jungkook leans slightly for the box of band-aids on the side table. "Jungkook, I don't need-'' Your efforts go in vain as he shushes you kindly, taping the band-aid around your ring finer.

"It's symbolic for now until I can get you the real thing."

-

Nothing could have prepared you for the busy year ahead of you. Between visiting Jungkook, opening a salon and planning a wedding things were beginning to get chaotic but it all seemed to fade in importance once Jungkook finally got to go home.

And you were right, he was home just in time for Thanksgiving, and he had a lot to be thankful for. He made that clear during his speech at your parents' annual Thanksgiving dinner.

The fact he was able to stand for it was reason enough. Although he wasn't able to walk far distances, he was improving every day, and it just warmed your heart.

Your speech wasn't nearly as tear-jerking as Jungkook's was, but you still had a lot to be grateful for. Just looking around the table from where you stood, smiling at your parents, your sister with Jin and Seol-a, Jungkook's parents, and Jungkook, of course.

Everything you ever wanted was right in front of you.

Keeping your speech short and sweet, "And I know she's grateful for that huge rock on her finger." Eunji whispers loudly causing the table to erupt in a fit of giggles, the tips of your ears turn red as you smile shyly.

From Thanksgiving to the opening day of your Salon. Staring up to look at your name written out in a cursive font across the top of the building you were in awe. "Pinch me," you mutter sarcastically, not expecting Jungkook to actually pinch you.

With a pout you rubbed the pink mark he left on your arm as the two of you walked into the moderately busy salon. Your mom had sent out flyers and emails about the opening day all season.

You wouldn't have been able to do it without her.

"I'm so proud of you," Jungkook whispers and you turn to face him with the look of a puppy. "I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you," He shakes his head, "I didn't do anything. This was all you, all you had to do was listen to your heart." Giving him one of those upside-down smiles you wrap your arms around him, talking into his chest.

"I can't wait to marry you."

Before you knew it, the wait was over.

Today is the day. 

You could only stress about one day so much, you'd gone over every last detail down to the very inch and you were sure it was going to be perfect, after all, you'd had it all planned out in your head since you were 7 and Jungkook was more than happy oblige, 'as long as I get to marry you', he would say.

Your wedding was beautiful, it left your guests breathless the moment they entered the venue and the ceremony hadn't even begun yet.

Your wedding had its own special and heartfelt twist to it. Instead of Jungkook standing ready at the altar, he had the honour of picking a heartfelt song to walk down the aisle to with no arm crutches or wheelchair to support him. Nothing but his parents on either side holding one of his arms.

Some of the audience cheered while some let their tears fall quietly, knowing how far Jungkook had come to get to this point. Once he made it to the front, his best man, Jimin, handed him his arm crutches once again.

Soon the rest of the bridal party had made their way down the aisle, prompting the audience to stand. All heads turned to the grand double doors that soon opened as a romantic instrumental of "Look After You" began to play.

Jungkook could hardly see you from the distance he was standing but just knowing that you were walking towards him had him choking up already.

By the time he really could see you, he couldn't. His eyes are cloudy with tears until Jimin hands him his pocket square to wipe his eyes. Blinking the rest of his tears away, he smiles at you.

You looked beautiful.

Like God's most perfect creation sent down from heaven. There you were, smiling back at him with those angel eyes of yours. It would be a lie to say you didn't want to cry but the last thing you wanted was to ruin your makeup.

However, you weren't so strong when it came time to listen to Jungkook's vows after just finishing yours.

"You once asked me if I believed in soulmates, and I remember saying it was a load of crap. I had no idea they were sitting right in front of me. Your unconditional and unchanging demonstration of love has completely changed me from the inside out. Through you, I breathe again, and for you, my heart beats. Today, I give you more than just my word. I give you mind, I give you my soul, my everything. I pray from this day forward we will chase the sunsets of tomorrow, hand in hand, forever."

The last part he recites from the passage of your book you'd read to him while he was still unconscious. Your makeup is now a victim to the stream of hot, salty tears that flowed from your eyes, "You heard me." You say just loud enough for only him to hear you. He smiles. "I heard you."

With no more tears and the unravelling of a touching ceremony,

"I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."

This was it. The moment Jungkook had been anticipating for months. Unclipping himself from the crutches around his arms, he hands them to Jimin.

He stretches out his arms dramatically, pretending to crack his neck.

Carefully taking your face in his hands, knowing how important it was to you that he didn't smudge anything, but your lipstick was going to need some reapplication after the way he pivoted and swooped you down for the most passionate of kisses.

The kind where your leg raises in the air while the photographer gets the money shot, capturing the bright smiles all around.

As if it was possible, the reception was even better than the ceremony. The toasts were both funny and touching. All eyes were on the happy couple who sat at their special table on the elevated platform for all to see.

Unable to hear what was being said but they could only assume it was something heartfelt based on the way your hands had clasped over your mouth.

Jungkook had just rolled up the sleeve of his left arm, showing you a new tattoo that you'd never seen. It was a delicate dark vine that wrapped around his forearm, with blossoming flowers, encircling the words 'Garden of Destiny', just like from your book.

"Are those-" You point to the types of flowers, "Tiger Lilies and Cosmos, your birth flower? Yeah." You pout, "Please don't cry, you'll be so upset if you ruin your makeup." He gently moves a loose strand of your hair from your face with the same hand you'd just been examining, and that's when it hits you.

"It's on your left arm." He grins,

"Of course it is."

𓆩♡𓆪This was only supposed to be 900 words. oops. 𓆩♡𓆪

𓆩♡𓆪 mentions and reblogs are always appreciated <3

BTS Reaction || You Get Into An Accident After A Fight [Mafia Edition]

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - February 2024

⤜MASTERLIST

SEOKJIN:

Jin knew that letting you walk out of that door was a mistake this morning, he should have forced you to stay in even though you were mad at him and then none of this would have happened. He wouldn't have found himself rushing to the hospital to make sure his girlfriend was okay and he wouldn't find himself asking some of his men to kill the bastard that had slammed into your car.

"Where is she? Is she okay!?" The colour was completely drained from Jin's face as he stared at Yoongi, one of the most trusted men in his whole family.

"Hyung, she's okay. She's in here," Yoongi pointed to the room behind him but Jin only looked through the small window of the door to look at you and he swallowed the lump in his throat. If it wasn't for him you wouldn't be in this mess right now, instead, you'd be at home where it was safe and you wouldn't look like you'd done about ten rounds with Mike Tyson.

"She's just a little sore from the impact," Yoongi explained, there'd been no broken bones or cracked heads but it still hurt you a lot to get hit by a car. Luckily for you, Yoongi had been following close behind to make sure you were okay after the fight you'd gotten into with Jin. Jin turned around ready to walk away, he wasn't going to be able to face you when he thought all of his was your fault, for now he was going to go home and prep the house for you,

"Okay...Good, I'll go home and make sure-" He was cut short by the sound of a door creaking and padded footsteps on the floor,

"Jin?" Your voice came out frail and shaky making him spin around instantly. You were standing there in a hospital gown shivering a little, he grabbed his jacket and wrapped it around your shoulders not wanting you to get cold.

"What are you doing? You should be in bed." He lightly scolded trying to urge you back into the room but you didn't budge. After your accident all you could think about was Jin and how you didn't want to fight with him anymore, you couldn't even remember what the two of you had fought for,

"I heard you and I wanted t-to see you." You smiled weakly and it looked so wrong, you were supposed to beam with a smile when you saw one another,

"Go back to bed, I'm going home to make sure-"

"Stay...Please," You begged, reaching for his hands and pulling him into the room as he nodded at you, if you wanted the moon Jin would somehow obtain the rights to it and give it to you. You got whatever you wanted when it came to him,

"Sure baby, whatever you want." He whispered, wrapping an arm around your waist and carefully leading you back into the hospital room and helping you into the bed.

YOONGI:

You couldn't remember what happened, all you could remember was getting into an argument with Yoongi and now you were waking up to the smell of bleach and a really annoying beeping sound to the right side of your head making you groan a little.

"I don't care who he is or who his father is, I said kill. him." Yoongi's voice seethed and you squeezed your eyes a little, opening them and looking over in the direction of where his voice had come from. Yoongi sat there in the chair looking as though he hadn't slept in days, his hair was a mess and he was still in the suit he'd worn when you got into a fight.

"Who are you killing?" You coughed out, making him jump a little.

"The doctor said you'd be out a little longer, I need to call-" He went to reach for the nurse button but you stopped him and shook your head.

"Don't, I wanna sit with you a little longer. No doctors." You whined, attempting to sit up but hissing when your left hand caused you pain. 

"It's broken," Yoongi explained, as he hooked his hands under your armpits and carefully helped you sit up in the bed, you stared at him and smiled sadly.

"You want to sit in bed with me?" You made room on the bed but Yoongi shook his head at you, 

"I shouldn't, they said you need to rest." You were a little taken aback by it, Yoongi never listened to anyone when they told him what to do and why should he? He was one of the most powerful men in Seoul,

"Since when did the great Min Yoongi ever listen to anyone else?" You teased a little but Yoongi shook his head at you,

"Since he saw how broken you looked when he got here,"

"I'm fine. Please? I just...I need you to hold me." You pleaded with him and you could see the cogs working inside of his brain before he nodded and carefully got onto the bed with you.

"I hired the best of the best, I also found the scumbag that jumped you," Yoongi explained as you rested your head on his shoulder, half listening to him and half trying not to fall asleep on him.

"His dad is some politician but I don't care. It doesn't give him the right to just-" Yoongi's voice trailed off when he heard soft snoring coming from you and he chuckled a little, kissing the top of your head.

"Goodnight, angel." He whispered before reaching for his phone to make sure everything was being taken care of.

HOSEOK:

"I don't care who you think you are, that's my girlfriend and if you try and stop me again, I'll have you killed!" Hoseok yelled at the police officer who was stopping him from coming onto the scene, your heart thumped as you looked at him. When Hoseok had gotten your call he dropped everything and came speeding to where you said you'd been,

"Hobi!" You yelled before rushing away from the paramedic who'd been making sure you were okay for what felt like an hour now. As soon as the accident happened you called Hoseok, you didn't tell him anything you just told him where you were before hanging up the phone. You'd been so scared and he was the only person you thought about after the car had crashed, it didn't matter that the two of you were fighting all you cared about was seeing him again.

"Where did you go? You said you were going to your sisters but she said you never showed up and then I called around and-" He stopped when he saw the cut above your eye and that your lip was busted up pretty badly.

"I was on my way when the taxi I was in-" You didn't even know what happened, one second you were on the road and the next you were on your side and the car was smashed to bits.

"Was it the driver's fault?" He was seething with anger, ready to kill anyone that had somehow been the cause of the accident but you whimpered,

"No, someone ran a red." You explained, grabbing onto your boyfriend's shirt to stop him from going after the old man who had been driving the taxi. Hoseok's eyes softened as he looked down at you, his anger melting away once he saw that you were okay for the most part,

"I'm clear, can you take me home?" You questioned, looking over at the ambulance team who had cleared you a while ago now,

"Home? Our Home or-"

"Our Home, I don't care about our fight anymore." You whispered, linking your hand with his and pulling him toward the direction of the crowd of people that had gathered after the accident had happened.

NAMJOON:

"She's got two broken ribs, and a broken leg and she'll be in and out of sleep for a while," Someone explained as you groaned a little, opening your eyes and looking over the room you were in. Everything was white and smelt of bleach and you sighed a little, you knew you must have been in a hospital and after the way you'd flown down the staircase you knew whoever the doctor was talking about was you.

"How long until I can take her home?" Namjoon? Namjoon was here? You thought for sure he would have left you to rot after the way you'd been screaming at him during your fight.

The two of you had gotten into a huge argument about god knows what now, it didn't matter anymore, but you'd just started a screaming match with him letting all of your anger out on him and he just stood there and took it.

"I'd say after tonight, we want to monitor her a little while longer and then she's all yours Mr Kim. I'll have a nurse bring by a cot for you," The door shut and you stared at Namjoon who was making his way back over to you with a small smile on his face.

"Hey, I ordered food but if you're not hungry I can get you something warm to drink." He whispered as he sat on the chair beside your bed and carefully took your hand in his.

"You're staying?" You whispered in shock, you thought for sure he would have left after the doctor did.

"Where else would I go, baby?" There was a small chuckle behind his voice and tears welled up in your eyes at the thought of him staying after everything that had happened.

"But I was awful...I-I screamed at you, and I yelled and I just-"

"Baby, I almost lost you after you walked off. You think one silly little fight is going to push me away?" He scoffed at you, he wouldn't have gotten where he was in life now if he walked away at the first sign of trouble.

"I don't know." You whispered as he squeezed your hand a little,

"You'll have to do a lot more than scream at me to make me walk away, love. I love you." He whispered, placing a small and gentle kiss on our hand.

"I love you too," You whispered back, your eyes getting heavier the longer you kept them open before you finally fell back to sleep holding Namjoon's hand.

JIMIN:

When Jimin got a call from your personal bodyguard saying you'd been in an accident he flew to the scene. He didn't care that the two of you were in a fight and that you hadn't spoken to him in a few days he was coming to see that you were okay since your guard - Koyla - hadn't given him much information on what happened.

  "Jimin," You shivered, your teeth chattering as you sat inside of the ambulance. They'd wrapped you in a silver blanket and were trying to naturally bring your temperature back up to normal before they took you into the hospital.

"What happened? Did you fall into the lake?" He questioned as he stared down at you, his hands resting on your cheeks and you cuddled into his touch missing the way he held you. 

"Someone pushed me, I wasn't looking and all of a sudden I was in the water." Which wasn't good since it was the middle of winter and below-freezing outside, Jimin instantly began spouting out orders to his men who were with him to find out who had done this and to bring them directly to him and the paramedics looked worried as they added another blanket to you.

"How did you find me?" Your phone was trashed after being thrown into the water and you hadn't told the paramedics your name yet so you doubt they'd been the ones to call you.

"Your guard told me you'd gotten into an accident," You both turned to face Koyla who stared at anything but the two of you, he'd been wanting the two of you to make up for a while now and now it was finally happening but you had no idea he was with you since he'd been the reason for your fight with Jimin in the first place. You'd told him you didn't need a guard to babysit you all of the time but it turned out you might have been wrong since if it wasn't for Koyla you probably would have been freezing at the side of the road.

"You were right...I-I do need him," You shivered before Jimin wrapped himself around you, he didn't care about that right now all he cared about was making sure you were okay.

"Let's go to the hospital and get you sorted," He whispered as the paramedics rushed to the front of the ambulance putting on the siren despite there being no emergency rush.

TAEHYUNG:

After Taehyung had stood you up on yet another date you'd walked home in the dark, declining the need for his chauffeured car that had been sent for you and heading to your friend's place. Only that had proven to be a massive mistake when you'd gotten hit by a car that had swerved onto the road.

"Where is she?!" Taehyung's voice carried over the mass of reporters and police that were on the scene and you cringed a little, you knew if Taehyung found out about the driver he'd end up having him killed which was why you'd neglected to call him.

"Yn? What happened?" You ignored him and turned to look down at your arm which was covered in tiny cuts and scrapes from where you'd hit the floor.

"Nothing, I'm fine," You grumbled at him, still pissed he'd stood you up on your date and started a fight with you over the phone about it.

"What happened?" Taehyung turned his attention to the paramedic who was cleaning up the cuts on your arms,

"A car hit her on the path, but he's been arrested already but another ambulance has taken him to the hospital." The paramedic's voice shook meaning he knew who Taehyung was and who didn't? He was huge in Seoul which meant everyone who was watching the scene was waiting for Taehyung to do something out of pocket which was what he was known for.

"I'll take care of him my own way." He grumbled but you grabbed onto his wrist before he could move away from you and you glared up at him.

"He's old, you won't touch him. It was an accident, he had a fucking heart attack at the wheel." You explained watching as Taehyung's mood changed and he slowly nodded his head.

"You'll take me home, you'll make it up to me for standing me up and yelling at me over the phone and we will go to bed." You told him plainly as he nodded once again, there was only one person in the world who told him what to do and it was you. No one else had the right or they'd more than likely get shot in the face for trying.

"Okay baby, I'll get the car." He whispered before kissing you softly and rushing off to grab his car.

JUNGKOOK:

It had been a week of radio silence from you, a week of Jungkook having no idea where you were or if you were okay and he'd finally found you in a hospital in a completely different city. The hospital had no idea who you were, only that you were a mugging victim who had been badly injured after a stabbing.

"She'll be okay, she's been in and out of it lately but not enough to tell us who she is." The doctor explained as Jungkook took in the sight of you, his heart breaking as he made his way closer to you. If it wasn't for him you wouldn't be in this mess right now but the two of you had gotten into an argument over him working too much and you'd walked out. You'd not taken your phone and you just went without explanation.

"Thanks, I'll sit with her if you don't mind." He told the doctor before sitting own and taking your hand in his softly.

"Fuck, this is my fault. If I'd just listened instead of yelling," He groaned to you, mumbling away to himself as he continued to beat himself up for letting this happen to you.

"You know, I dreamt this was going to happen, only you were dressed in a hot dog costume," Your voice was like music to his ears as he lifted his head to see you staring at him.

"Should I go and buy a costume? I'm sure I can make the dream happen." He teased as he rang for the nurse to come in.

"Nah, this is way better." Your voice was groggy from being out for so long but you squeezed Jungkook's hand and stared at him, tears rushing to your eyes.

"Please don't leave me...I'm sorry we fought,"

"Don't, it's my fault. I'm sorry," He whined out before kissing away the tears that were now free-falling down your face.

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The Taste of Deceit(Maknae Line Part One)

Request

Yandere Masterlist

Warnings: Violence, Dark Characters with Darker Intentions. And the plot would only get darker from here. Disturbing imagery, allusions, blood.

Word Count- 15k+

(GIF credits to the owner. I do not own them)

Kindly excuse the typos and errors

*****

Inspiration - 'Art Deco' by Lana Del Ray: The Great Gatsby Edit

The place was…she had no words to describe the beauty and grandeur of the place. Nothing seemed enough. And under the gigantic chandeliers, high ceilings and shimmery walls dwarfed everyone in the great hall. dwarfs with fancy attires and even fancier masks covering half of their faces.

(Y/N)’s eyes searched for her friend– he had abandoned her after bringing her to his boss’ party as his plus one.

“Once I get my hands on this punk, I swear!” she muttered to herself before picking out one of the many delicacies presented in the venue for the guests.

She did not care about the side-eyes she received from the mingling dolled-up women standing by the long table. At least that was what she liked to think. They were like bees to flowers– hovering, searching, but hardly touching anything. 

Her eyes caught the sight of the relatively isolated balcony- relying more on moonlight than blinding chandeliers.

Picking up her filled plate, she made her way towards the balcony. At the peak of summer, the air was understandably still. The warmth hit her instantly as soon as she was out of the airconditioner bubble. But she did not mind.

The moon, some scattered patches of cloud on the otherwise clean indigo sky and people below passing by, coming and going like fancied miniatures. Each of their movements seemed calculated and self-conscious. No wonder she stuck out like a sore thumb, more interested in the food than dancing with masked strangers. 

Apparently, no one was allowed to take off their masks publicly at the party. So she put up with her shimmering mask, covering half of her face delicately. At least the mask was of commendable quality.

It was peaceful for a while before a sudden commotion shook it off. She watched as security, people with cameras and even guests followed a car that entered the place, fashionably slowly, before halting just below the balcony she stood on. Every car stopped at the exact same spot, but none of the vehicles were thronged by people like that. Soon, the balcony was no longer her private space. People filled in, around her, eager to catch a glimpse of the Porsche. Or maybe the person inside. 

“Oh, he’s going to step out, click a picture, click a picture!” one of the women squealed to her friend.

“(Y/N), where were you?” her friend suddenly appeared beside her, catching her attention instantly.

“Where were you? I was left all alone there Hyuk, why did you even leave me alone? You know I don’t know anyone here.”

“I’m so sorry, it was my manager, he wanted me to meet his mentor, and I did not want you to be bored out of your mind.”

“Hyuk at least—”

“Ohmygod, ohmygod, he is out of the car!” 

The woman standing beside her cried out loud. (Y/N) held back a grimace at the obnoxiously loud voice as her eyes flickered below once more. 

There, stood a man in all black, an ebony mask covering half of his face. She could not see the details of the mask, but the shape was slightly different, and shades of silver gleamed occasionally as his face moved. The design around his eyes was more defined. His hair was parted from the side and combed back to perfection. His shoes shone under the flashing cameras and artificial lights surrounding him.

“Who is he Hyuk?” (Y/N) did not take her eyes off the man as she leaned closer to her friend.

“The big boss, the owner of the company I work in and many other such companies, and the host of this of party– Park Jimin,” he explained.

At that moment, the man’s face lifted, and the lower half of his face exposed his beauty. The mask made it almost impossible to decipher the shape of his eyes, but the way they glided over the place as his plump lips curled into a smirk had her gaze stuck on him. 

And then, his eyes stopped on her, standing right above him,or maybe it was someone behind her, beside her, but she could see the deep, dark eyes and the gleaming silver lines of the mask around them. 

The eyes…

She could not explain what it was, but they reminded her of deep, dark, forbidden forests, drowned ships laying on the ocean beds, and gigantic, maze-like caves yet to be explored.

Even with the flashing cameras, his eyes never blinked as they held her gaze. 

It was only for a long moment, but it felt like an era before she managed to look away, looking at Hyuk instead.

“Shall we go inside?” She asked, and he nodded.

And without turning her gaze back to his still figure, she pushed through the crowd and made a beeline towards the hall.

—----

Even after she was inside the hall again, those eyes stayed with her, nothing else but the eyes—the deep, dark eyes that spoke in silence. She had felt the shivers when his eyes held her gaze. And she was not familiar with such… bizarre emotions.

“Hyuk, Hyuk, let’s go home.”

“(Y/N), I must meet Mr. Park first. Are you feeling unwell?”

She gulped and shook her head. She was not feeling unwell at all, but she did not like how those eyes stayed with her so stubbornly. There was something magical and magnetic about them.

“We will only greet him, and then we can go home; how about that? Oh look, he’s here.”

It was not difficult to notice that people moved to greet him and then moved aside to make way for him. 

“Oh, he’s headed this way. Do I look like a smart employee?” 

Hyuk was thrilled to have the opportunity to improve his career prospects, and that was the only reason she did not walk away from Park Jimin’s approaching figure. She could not do that to her friend. 

“You look good Hyuk.” she patted his back in reassurance, offering him a small smile.

“Hope my employees are enjoying the party?” His voice was sweet honey with an edge of milk and cinnamon.

“Of course Mr Park, in fact, I am honoured to have been invited to your party.” Mr Park’s eyes stayed on her for a good moment before flickering to Hyuk

“Efficiency and hard work, Hyuk, are always rewarded in my business.” He patted her friend's shoulder with a smile that could only be described as angelic,

“I assume she is your plus one here?” He asked 

“Yes Sir, I came with my friend.”

“Hello there, I hope you are enjoying the party?”

“Certainly, Mr Park, it is a party like no other.”

Mr park only chuckled “It’s a business party, wait until you experience the parties at my residence.”

Turning to Hyuk, he smiled at him.

“Mr Won, we need employees like you, why don’t you attend the party I have at my residence? You will have the opportunity to meet many important figures there, I assure you that it would be my responsibility to create acquaintances.”

“I…that would truly be an honour, Sir.”

“Why don’t you bring your friend as well, I am sure you would enjoy the more…casual setting.”

Before she could come up with an excuse, Hyuk spoke out on behalf of her,

“Of course, I am sure she would not mind. We will be there.”

Mr Park’s lips curved into a slow smile.

“Sure, enjoy the party.”

And with that, he was gone, swept away with the crowd of people around him.

“Oh, my God! (Y/N), did you hear that? He knows me, he likes my work (Y/N). I would finally get a promotion, won’t I?

“You work so hard Hyuk, either way, you would have been rewarded with a promotion.”

“No, (Y/N), Mr Park knows me– the Park Jimin, you are a journalist, you must know his name.”

“I am an investigative journalist. I deal with crime, criminals and every other twisted thing a human mind could come up with, Hyuk, not the pale, rose gold business world.”

“But, he is the owner of the Park Enterprise.” Hyuk leaned into her ear and whispered “And he is only thirty-two.”

But (Y/N) could not care less. A bit surprised, of course, but that was it. Park Jimin, as much of him she could see of him, looked like the epitome of youthful charisma. There was an aura of authority, a sense of command, yes, but he looked anything but a man in his thirties. She was certain that he was only a couple of years older than her, twenty-eight at best!

—------

That night, as (Y/N) lay on her bed, staring up at the ceiling of her bedroom, she could not help but have all her thoughts occupied–no–engulfed by him– the mysterious yet charismatic Park Jimin. The way he walked, the way he spoke, like every move was a graceful dance for him. It was hypnotic, but also held an edge of danger. 

Even though it had only been only months since her joining as an investigative journalist for a publication house that printed and published news, magazines and booklets, she had begun to rely more on her gut instincts– they helped.

And her gut told her that no matter how alluring Park Jimin was, with his electric gaze and swan-like movements, she needed to keep her distance. After all, everything enticing had a sinister face. That was the rule of nature. At least whatever she knew of nature and the world.

—-----

“This is the last time I am getting along with your bullshit!” (Y/N) huffed, unceremoniously bunching up the gown she wore as she made jumped out of the taxi.

“And that is the fourth time you are telling this to me. (Y/N), I couldn’t say no to him, okay? He’s my boss.” Hyunk followed close behind as they made their way towards the gates of Mr Park’s penthouse. 

“Are we at the right place Hyuk?” the penthouse should have been booming with music, or at least chitter-chatter.

But the place seemed eerily quiet and the minted windows did not help much. 

“Uh, excuse me, is this Mr Park’s residence? We have been invited to the party here? I have the invitation.” Hyuk opened his phone and showed it to the two towering men guarding the main entrance.

“Yes, the party is inside. Please show me your ID and write down your details here.” one of them spoke out without a single twitch on his chiselled face.

No, it had to be Mr Park’s penthouse. Who else would have this level of security?

After they were done with the procedures, they were given masks again. They were somewhat similar to the ones worn at the formal party, these had an edge of funk in them. They glimmered under the light and had soft feathers attached to the top and reminded her of their presence every now and then as the softness caressed her temple

“Please do not unmask yourself publicly, at least not Mr Park allows it.”

The man surely had a thing for masks. She concluded as she nodded and made her way towards the seemingly quiet penthouse with Hyuk.

“Why’s so quiet here?”

“Why Hyuk, thought mr Park’s favourite employee would know?”

Hyuk rolled his eyes as they reached the front door of the penthouse. There, two more guards greeted them before opening the door, only to startle them with the boom of the party rushing out.

“It's soundproof!” Hyuk had to raise his voice in order to be heard as the music overshadowed every other sound in the place.

“I can see that Hyuk. Where’s the host though?”

Masked figures surrounded them, dancing, drinking, eating–the typical party-goers. The lights were slightly dimmed on one section with streaks of neon and flashes illuminating the figures dancing in the area, on the opposite side were plates and trays filled with beverages and bites that could well be consumed as dinner. The bar had a bartender making drinks with a spectacle– doing the expert tricks she had only seen in the viral videos. 

This party stunk of ‘How Rich People Party’. Mr Park brought a nightclub home.

Hyuk was already walking towards the table, eyes set on his favourites. At least someone was enjoying the party. Had it not been for Hyuk, she would have not even bothered.

Her eyes took in the place, the penthouse was huge, especially the ground floor, and the party seemed to be limited to there itself. Her eyes flickered to the first floor. There were people standing there too, but they seemed detached from the party, busy speaking with themselves and—

Her eyes caught a figure on the first floor, overlooking the party, the familiar lithe frame and ebony hair stood out, even in the dark. But what made him stand out the most was the mask he wore, it stood out, with the most ethereal, angelic white and swirls and twines of silver around the eyes.

The eyes…They were stilled on her already, as if they had been watching, waiting.

“Is that Mr Park?” she nudged Hyuk subtly. 

Of course, it was him, she remembered his magnetic stare. She simply needed to keep herself grounded.

“Holy shit. It is, did he see me gobbling up the sweets?” Hyuk immediately waved at him. 

“What else are parties for?”

Mr Park waved aback after a moment of calculated delay before gesturing them to join him upstairs.

“I’m not going there.”

“What but—but Mr Park called us.”

“He called you Hyuk, he had invited you mainly. Its about you. I have no interest in your dull business talks.” 

“Are you sure? What if I mess up, he’s a big name.”

“You will be fine, meanwhile, I can get some drinks. Just go, don’t make him wait, he’s the boss.” She patted him with assurance and watershed as he hurried up the stairs with a smile.

Her eyes flickered up once more, but Mr Park was nowhere to be seen.

Maybe…Maybe his eyes had been on Hyuk all the while.

Hyuk had not returned even after an hour and (Y/N) had found company in the tipsy-worthy cocktails and delectable bites. She knew that his career meant the world to him, but she was left in a room filled with masked strangers and she did not—

“You didn't come upstairs.” she felt the breath before she heard him speak, making her jump with a gasp as she turned around, only to face the mask that stood out.

“Mr Park! Sorry, I did not see you there.”

“Didn’t invite you to get bored,you know.”

“Oh no, I was waiting for Hyuk.”

His lips tilted ever so slightly, the smile was barely visible but it managed to be soft

“Hyuk is busy speaking with my friends. They’re impressed by him.”

“He works really hard. This was his dream career,” she added with a smile.

“Oh, I am an investigative journalist for (XXX) Papers. Not from the Paparazzi, if you’re worried.”

“Oh no, I don’t fear the media, don’t worry. If anything the journalists should fear me.” His lips tilted more, causing an unpleasant tingle to run down her stomach

“What?”

“I am terrible with interviews, I stray away from the topic so badly and I suck at using new and high technology.” He chuckled, finally showing off the mesmerising smile that made her gulp yet sigh in relief.

“Oh, right, that’s okay, I don’t like conducting interviews, so…”

Park Jimin was a charmer, she could not tell if he were a social butterfly or not, he did not leave her side even for once, and with each minute she spent with him– laughing, talking, just enjoying– her guards began to turn wax against fire.

Or was the alcohol in her system?

At that moment, she did not care.

He was like lightning in the night sky, stunning, entrancing but also intimidating. He reminded one to be careful but also could make thoughts cease simultaneously. It was almost...Sublime.

But she did not have much thought regarding that, she did not have the chance to dwell, not when their lips fit in oh-so-smooth with the ease of two puzzles fitting just right.

She did not even remember what thing led to what and how they found each other in the darkest little corner, tucked away from the party. One minute they were speaking, the next, they were flirting playfully and the next, his lips had brushed so delicately with hers, she melted into his arms.

It felt absurd how they still wore their masks, their accessory rubbed against each other as their lips clashed once more, it was teeth and tongue this time. She felt him opening a door that led to an isolated staircase, narrower but there were no prying eyes and it led straight to his bedroom.

She was not drunk, but she was tipsy and so so charmed by those eyes of his. And finally, when he undid the ribbon behind her head and let her mask fall off, she never felt more exposed, more vulnerable before.

“What have you done to me?” Jimin's voice had a desperate edge as his eager fingers.

She did not reply, shouldn’t she be asking him the question? But she was too curious, too eager to argue. She simply undid the strings of his mask, only the reveal the allure hiding behind. Park Jimin was the definition of beauty, crafted to perfection– but in flesh and bones.

His lips came crashing on hers, the sheets, like their bodies, like mating swans and snakes, like the rain touching the soil, absorbing and soaking into each others’ essence, fusing into one.

How would she ever forget those hypnotizing eyes now? That perfect face, that electric touch?

But she knew that she must leave soon.

As it was expected of her.

—------

“Where were you last night? I searched for you and called you so many times! You left the party without telling me?” (Y/N) could visualise her best friend fuming through the phone

“Yes, I left early. I was drunk a bit and wasn’t feeling great.”

A necessary white lie

“Oh…I shouldn’t have left you alone for so long, I’m so sorry.”

“That's completely alright, I understand, did you manage to make new connections?”

“Yeah, kind of, can’t say much. Where are you right now?”

“In an amusement park.”

“What?”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes at the response “Of course I’m at work. I don’t have Saturdays off. It's a half-day.” (Y/N) sighed “I have a lot pending, bye.”

“Wait I—”

Cutting the call, she dropped her phone back in her pocket and licked her lips. Even they seemed to remember the foreign warmth.

No, no (Y/N) he doesn’t even remember your face perhaps. Stop thinking about him!

 Looking around her office, scattered with closed and opened files, folders, papers and pens rolled out from a dropped penholder, she really wished she was home. But she was desperate for a good distraction. And what could be a better distraction than work?

Besides, she had taken up a murder mystery. And while the police had closed the case, her boss thought that maybe with further investigations, they could stir up a good storm.

After all, that was all this business was about.

“Agnes West, an English Teacher- engaged to Cha Kyunwo.” she read out aloud, eyes skimming through the information to find something—

There it was.

Homicide.

“Police suspected it was a case of homicide. But there was no evidence? This case is interesting.” She sat up straighter as she began to read into the details.

“Police concluded it as an accidental explosion caused by a leak in the gas pipeline--oh, that's brutal. Bodies unrecognisable, more than ninety per cent burnt but DNA matched with their daughter who was not home during the accident.” 

She skimmed through for more information, but there was no evidence found or submitted officially. At the end of the file, there were two pictures attached. The gruesome details were now in front of her. It was truly a brutal accident and if it were a murder…The killer must have hated them.

She was well into researching the case. Not much was put up to her surprise. But the real surprise came when one of her colleagues knocked on her cabin door.

“Yes, come in.”

“Hi.” her colleague peeped in “There’s someone who wants to meet you.”

“Meet me?” (Y/N) frowned. 

Hyuk had an emergency, her parents lived miles away and her other friends were not the kind to just drop by randomly. They had their lives with their partners, while she…she had her life with her office.

“Okay, I will be there.”

Her colleague gave her a tight smile before nodding and shutting the door on her way out.

Walking out of her office, she was greeted by a towering and wide man beside a shorter man with the lithe frame now etched on her brain. She would recognise it anywhere, even when his back was turned towards her. The taller man, supposedly his bodyguard whispered something in his ear before the man turned around.

Park Jimin wore his mask like he wore the grace of a swan. But Park Jimin without the mask, bare to the eyes and eyes on her, looked like a fallen angel.

For a moment, it was all stillness and silence, only the click of his shoes reached her ears as he approached her– movements slow but smooth. Perhaps he really was a swan-incarnate after all.

“You left this morning, I thought you’d stay.”

Wait. What?

“I…I had…work and I thought–well I was sure that—you were expecting me to stay?” 

She mentally hissed at herself for bumbling like a schoolgirl with a crush but what had ever changed by crying over spilt milk?

There was the same ghost of a smile she had seen the night before.

“Why think that? Of course, you would stay. Don’t leave like that again. Hmm?”

Again?

“What do you mean? You’re playing with me?”

This had to be some sick joke. Didn’t he see how she looked at him, how her mind lost to her heart every time he was in front of her? Or was it daily bread for him? Charm and then walk away?

Defying all her expectations, Jimin frowned with looming in her eyes, but still slower than the desire she had seen igniting in those hypnotic eyes last night.

“That night when I first saw you at the party, wearing that translucent mask, in the flood of prying, smitten eyes, I could see only your eyes…Do you know why?”

She had no answer to his question, he seemed to notice that too. 

Leaning closer, he continued-

“Because your eyes were the only ones that looked at me with such a sweet, innocent curiosity. I instantly knew you did not belong there. I was not even supposed to look up, I could hear their annoying screams. But something told me that I must. And I found you, and I knew I could never go back. I am still stuck in that magical moment (L/N)(Y/N).”

She saw his eyes zooming in before she felt his lips touch hers once more, this time in a chaste kiss, but enough to flutter her heart open and her eyes close.

“I will be waiting for you in the cafe across the road.”

With that, he walked away. 

“Was that the Park Jimin I just saw?”

(Y/N) jumped at her boss’s voice creeping behind her. She was a woman in her late thirties, spoke business but never forgot humour. (Y/N), on the other hand, was not in the mood for humour and her boss’ prying.

“Miss Yoon, if you want to know about him I must make it clear I barely know him myself.” She turned around, facing her editor.

“Oh, but he seemed to be interested to know you? I knew it was perfect for you It's God-sent, I tell you!” Miss Yoon’s words made no sense to her. Her boss seemed extraordinarily delighted to have discovered her acquaintance with Park Jimin.

“What are you talking about? I don’t understand?”

“Oh my…Don’t tell me that you do not know much about him.”

“I’m afraid that’s the case.”

Her boss only smiled cryptically and nodded  “I think you ought to know more, girl.”

—------

The cafe was a quaint little place, usually bustling after office hours with people rushing to grab some bites and even dinner for home. But as she approached it, she realised how empty it was– all lit up, all staff members working but there was no sign of the rush hour she would witness every day she would witness after work. Especially on Weekends.

She had never paid attention to how the door would creak when opened, it was usually hustling in there. But now, the creak was louder than her footsteps.

Odd

(Y/N) frowned before her eyes caught the corner seat of the cafe– perfect for two, isolated yet closer to the counter and set just by the right window– the one which would offer ample view of the busy street. Yet it was not the seat that was in her sight, it was the man sitting there.

Park Jimin’s eyes were already on her. He had been watching her from the movement she had stepped inside the cafe. 

“Hope you like the place,”  he spoke up as soon as she was near enough.

“No place could have been better. It's even quiet here today.”

“Yes, I had booked it all for the evening. In case you were uncomfortable,” He stated nonchalantly as she took a seat in front of him.

“Oh, that was unnecessary…”

Jimin scoffed with a smile as he poured her coffee kept on the table. His eye, previously on her cup flicked up to match her gaze with a heat that made her gulp.

 “Only the best for my lady.” He pushed the filled cup towards her as his plump lips curved upwards “I have realised that my approach last night and that evening might have made the wrong impression…I do not do casual nights (Y/N). If I lead you to my bedroom, I mean to lead you into my life as well.”

She stilled. She felt her heartbeat turning louder at his words. A lump formed in her throat and her stomach flipped. 

“Do you want to be in my life?”

His question jolted her. But the sparks were mild. She blinked but managed to nod “I would give it a try.”

Park Jimin’s smile widened– evidently pleased. He offered her his palm. As soon as her hand was in his grip, he reached for his pocket and fished out a delicate platinum bracelet and wrapped it around her wrist.

“Welcome to my world Sweetness.” His eyes fixed on her with a burning gaze as his lips fell on her wrist in a hot kiss.

++---++

“Have you gone through the case file I have given you?”

“Yes– it was suspected to be a murder by the police.”

Miss Yoon shook her head “Just one officer. He was new in the post and had a clean record according to my sources. In fact, he was at the top of his academy. Had solved a few cases before that were somewhat complex. But this case was different.”

“What do you mean?” she was intrigued.

“This officer was sure that it was a murder– a cleverly-planned, cold murder. He had begun to gather pieces of evidence, point out and interrogate suspects. There were many leads but after six months there was something worth making the news.”

“What?”

“The case was suddenly declared closed after being concluded to be an unfortunate accident and the officer was transferred to some remote village.”

“This sounds fishy?”

“Oh, I see you are learning. Yes. My sources have found some confidential pieces of information. Before this abrupt closure of the case, the officer had managed to lay his hand on a solid lead, and that led him to chalk Park Jimin as a suspect.”

(Y/N) stilled.

++---++

****

Inspiration- "M." by Anil Emre Daldal

The road was isolated, nothing could be seen beyond the thick December fog and the piles of snow separating the road from the woods on either side.  While tiny snowflakes floated in the air, the blizzard was still hours away, as per the weather reports.

Taehyung’s eyes flickered on the reflection of her sleeping form on the backseat– tucked away with blankets and pillows. His eyes fixed back on the road ahead.

Just a few more hours and we will be fine.

He promised as pushed on the accelerator.

They won’t find us, they can’t.

He was confident, but he never allowed to get that to his head. He used to be four steps ahead of them, now that they knew his game plan and he had the love of his life to take care of, he had to think ten steps ahead.

He glanced back, turning his head completely to check on her, the car was tearing through the frosty air but he slowed down, just in case.

Turning to the road again, Taehyung sped up. The sun was already setting down.

+---+

The restaurant offered him the perfect amount of privacy and smooth services, extras included since he was one of the wealthiest patrons there– a regular, paying hefty tips.

But tonight was different. Tonight he was less worried about some prying eyes, some authority informant and more focused on striking a deal with one of his rivals and potential ally. 

The waiter returned with another glass of old whisky. But Taehyung did not bother to look up.

“How’s the weather boy? Sunny or gloomy?” It was a code language for inquiry if anything suspicious was going on outside or in the restaurant.

“Uh… it's nighttime, Sir.”

It was a woman’s voice. Just not the type he was used to hearing. It was gentle…without anything to hide– plain, soft and gentle and clueless. And that made him look up from his drink.

Yes, he could see it in her eyes. Clueless, plain– the kind of simplicity he was not used to but he could see that she was anything but one-dimensional. Taehyung simply smiled, eyes fixed on her as they began to take in the little details. She clearly did not belong there.

“Oh, of course. Pleasant evening,” He said, letting his smile stretch as he watched her place the drink in front of him and give him a bow. “Please send Jun in; I’m not used to sudden changes,” He asserted as soon as she turned around to leave. 

“Sure, Sir.” Nothing was different in her eyes or smile.

As if it did not bother her. But somehow, it did bother him. But he was too proud too distracted to acknowledge that.

“Have I seen you before?” He threw the question, it was like a litmus test, one wrong twitch and he would catch it if something was off.

“Oh no, Sir, I joined yesterday. I’m not permanent yet,” She replied with that gentle voice of hers that just…hit him somewhere.

“What’s your name?”

This time, her eyes held surprise, and it felt like a victory to him, to affect her like that, and bring out something beyond a professional mask. Something that made her seem more exposed and gave him the upper hand.

“Alice.” it was the name on the nameplate given to her. And none of the names were real.

“Your real name, Alice.” She blinked at this question.

“Eui, Sir.” Taehyung nodded, testing the name on his tongue

“Eui, you are in the wrong place.”

+---+

The constant ringing of his phone made him hiss. But he could not pick that up, he needed to reach the mansion first. His eyes kept flickering between the road and the backseat. His eyes matched the cold outside the spending vehicle, yet there was a fire lit inside him. 

But it was nothing compared to the first time his lips met hers.

+----+

He knew that Jun was a sleazy man, but that he was a fucking bastard surprised Taehyung. Slightly. Taehyung had ignored his dirty eyes on the girl; he had pretended not to hear that man slap her rear and grab it painfully enough to elicit a gasp and whimper from her.

But when Eui entered the room the third time and Jun pulled her on his lap, the girl was screaming and terrified, with tears streaming down her face. 

Taehyung finally looked at him.

“I'm a regular here, Jun. I don’t want to leave a bad impression, the place is my favourite.” He warned calmly, sitting still as a stone, eyes fixed on the struggling woman in that man’s grip.

Taehyung was good at ignoring such things; they did not bother him much. He was not new to the underworld. But the sight in front of him made something in him flutter. It was tiny, but there was something akin to a spark.

“Since when did you begin to care, boy? You know what? I think she would do better in the hotel I have at—”

“Let go of her.” 

Jun froze, the mirth leaving his face. But it was just for a moment. He scoffed, pushing her away and standing up.

“You know my reach, boy, you better shut that tone of yours or we can call this stupid deal off. Your men will be left with nothing, I see them in our area, and I slaughter them. Are you listening to me? I will fucking kill them, you need this deal more than anyone else!”

While Jun fumed, his voice and ballooned ego stretched and poked, Taehyung continued to eat, only having his eyes flicker up once as Eui scurried away. Most of the time, his eyes remained on his plate. It looked a bit bland, though, he noted, before finally looking up.

Taking a toothpick, he began to clean his teeth with leisure, firing up the old nuisance's rage. He grabbed Taehyung by his collar and pulled him up.

“You know what I can do to you? And that little empire of yours?” He barked.

Taehyung shrugged, still cleaning his teeth. But this time he smirked,

 “You are so full of yourself, aren’t you, Jun? Guess what you can do to me and my empire.”  

With a flick of an eyelid, the toothpick was already buried in Jun’s left eye.

 He screamed in agony as Taehyung’s face turned besprinkled with blood. “Nothing Jun. You can do nothing.” 

Taehyung finished by slamming his head straight on the heavy table. The food, the wood, the chair, everything was now marred with his blood.

Now the plates looked interesting.

But he was not done. Far from it. It was not a flutter anymore. It was something more. Taking out his gun, he shot both of his palms before burying a skewer into Jun’s throat until there were no screams but gurgling and struggles.

He pulled his dying rival closer with a smile that could make children shake hands with him. Innocent, nice, and soft. But his eyes gave way to his blackened soul 

“I am Kim Taehyung, Jun. And I am here to rule. You don’t get to fuck with the lion in a jungle.”

 He smiled with his lips still marred with blood while Jun turned into remnants of flesh, bones, and blood. Even Taehyung’s shirt had blood on it, but it was jet black.

Snatching the overpriced handkerchief from Jun’s pocket, he wiped his hands and face before his eyes found hers. She stood in the corner, frozen, petrified. He knew he was evil enough to feed off others’ fear but for the first time, the fear in someone’s eyes made his heart skip a beat.

“I thought you scurried away.” 

He sauntered towards her, smirking at the sight of her trying to become one with the wall.

“I told you you are at the wrong place, Flower. How did you appear in this wasteland?” 

He whispered when he reached her, invading her space as if he owned her. He did not mind the idea of that, though.

“You should have run away at the first chance you got, far away.”

Was it the strange numbness that he felt after every kill, or the fact that he was coming down from the high of adrenaline? He had no clue. But something in him told him to kiss her, he must kiss her. And so he did.

Only to feel a flame like no other arise from his chest and spread into his blood like a disease. If it were the most lethal of diseases, he would die a content man. For he found the lips that could kiss his soul.

+---+

“Just a few more miles, Darling.”

Taehyung whispered to her sleeping form in the backseat. She looked so serene, even when the situation was anything but.

Even after three years, Taehyung remembered every detail of the night. The night he met her for the first time and touched the gates to heaven. Taehyung always thought that indifference and lust were all that was left for him to feel in moments like that.

But the moment he had kissed her, it jolted him awake, a part of him that even he did not know was asleep– in a deep, long slumber all his life as if waiting for that one moment. 

His phone came to life once more as the screen showed a random number. This time, he picked up the phone, keeping his eyes on the rearview mirror.

“Sir, where are you?”

It was his assistant.

“We need to go underground for a few months, prepare yourselves. I have made all the arrangements already and am heading somewhere safe. You know where to go and guide the rest of the team. Don't try to contact me on this phone. I will contact you.”

"But Sir---"

With that, Taehyung hung up, pressing on the accelerator, he took out his gun from the dashboard. His suspicion was right there was a black sedan closing the distance with his car. He purposely slowed down a bit, letting the chasing car close the distance. The tinted windows like his vehicle only made him click his gun into readiness. 

When the car was running parallel to his, the window slid down, revealing one of the many he detested with passion. 

“Long time no see, Officer!” He yelled out, lowering the window as well.

The man in uniform did not reply, only swerved his car, hitting Taehyung’s vehicle to the point of taking a 180-degree turn with violent jerks.

+---+

Right after the moment he kissed her, Eui pushed him off and ran away. Something she should have done way sooner. But it was too late now, so miserably late. Kim Taehyung had his eyes set on her, and the rest vanished.

It was so easy to find her and even easier to predict her patterns– simple, straight and plain. She was like every other people passing by. She was an average citizen, an average girl by every book.

Then why?

Why was he pulled towards her? Like a man hypnotised, as if she were the siren, and he, the willing victim. 

His eyes would be on her, like every nocturnal creature watching its prey from the darkest corner, enveloped by the shadows of the night, where the moon could not reach and the birds never sang.

Kim Taehyung was surrounded by magnetic women– women of beauty and power. But none of them could ignite the flame Eui did. Jang Eui. A young woman with no family, barely any friends and a college degree that would not yield much. Sad.

But she had him.

He was everywhere she frequented. While initially, he did not let his presence be known, preferring to just watch her instead, after two months of thorns hugging his yearning, he let her know. 

She ordered something in the cafe? It was paid for already.

She looked at a T-shirt for too long, it was delivered to her the next day. Getting off from work late at night, four people were tailing behind by a fair distance.

She feared him, he made her uncomfortable. Did it bother him? Yes, but he was a creature of habit. He could be a gentleman as long as he had things his way. Otherwise, he was a sinister deception.

She was working at a bookstore and when the night got a bit lonelier, he found it the perfect opportunity to saunter in. Her eyes gave away her fear, and with each step closer, she drew back until there was nowhere to go, just bookshelves closing them in. It was a cramped place, to his delight. 

“I have not told anyone about that night, please leave me alone!”

“Oh? Why don’t you try now and see, Flower?”

 He smiled, amused as he stepped close enough to flutter her hair with his breath. She looked a bit pale and tired.

“You will not overwork yourself anymore. I can’t have that.”

“Why do you care?” It was not a question out of spite but plain confusion.

His fingers found her cheeks but he flinched, only urging them to be firmer. But he retracted them soon after. He leaned closer, close enough to smell her, close enough to be able to see the minute details, the slightly roughened skin, the bumps and sweat, the chapped lips, the fine lines forming on her forehead though she was too young for that.

“I care for everything that belongs to me,  Flower.”

+---+

“Where is she?” Officer Jeong was cold and calm

“I don’t know who you are talking about, Officer?” Taehyung grinned

Officer Jeong pointed his gun towards him “You know very well who am I talking about.”

Taehyung smiled– slow and sinuous “She is the love of my life Officer, and I don’t like it when someone even looks at something that’s mine.”

Officer Jeong smiled back– frosty and sharp “You have this bad habit of stealing, Kim.” He clicked his gun.

+----+

It was not the last time he visited the place or found his way to be close to her. And with each passing day, she turned less tense. It was a progress Taehyung would pat himself for and when he caught her faint smile looking at the wildflowers he had laboured for, Taehyung understood what true happiness meant, what it meant to feel content.

When they went on their first date, at the same restaurant he had gone to when he earned his first bulk, Taehyung felt flutters across his heart. 

And when he slept soundly like a baby in her arms, Taehyung discovered that he had been chasing all the wrong luxuries before.

“You don’t sleep well, do you?” she asked

“It's just like that with me, barely get to sleep at night, even if I tried…I just can’t.”

“Sleep here.”

“I can’t Jagi, if I stay the night in your apartment I might alert the snakes. I am a bad man, and I have rivals worse than me.”

“I think they are already suspicious. You visit here too often Taehyung.”

“Then come with me.”

“What?” Eui blinked in confusion.

“Come home with me. Move in with me?” Taehyung offered hopefully

Eui only smiled “I will think about it, okay? For now, here, lay your head on my lap.”

And when he did.

He had something to look up to, someone to come back home to, someone to live for, someone to imagine his life’s twilight with, a reason to not be so reckless. After a long time, he felt the fear he never knew he craved– the fear of Eui’s safety.

It was the kind of happiness he was foreign to. Something he could not have even imagined. Like a wild, starving beat being petted and fed for the first time.

But his relationship with happiness was strange. Happiness was like watching fireworks for Taehyung. It immersed him, mesmerised him, and made him forget his woes.

But it never lasted for long.

+---+

“Surrender now Taehyung, and you will live.”

“Now you know my name?” Taehyung smirked

“We know your hideout, we know your overseas bank accounts, we know your business, we know it all Taehyung. The rest of my team is under their way Taehyung, we know where you are headed to. There is no escaping from us. Not anymore Taehyung.”

Taehyung’s jaws clenched. No matter what he did, how much he tried, he knew that he could not turn reality.

“I like the confidence, despite with nothing but failures on record.” Taehyung poked.

“No matter how far or how fast we run, Kim. Our deeds catch up with us. No matter the form– police, rival, accidents, fate? We never escape consequences.”

+----+

Within a month into the relationship, Eui moved into his mansion. He liked to call her the Lady of the mansion, just as she was the lady in his heart– the only woman he could think of, liked to look at and wanted to kiss and have himself buried in.

She was the reason he looked forward to returning to his mansion– he called it home now. But his business did matter. Running an illegal buisness and keeping a disguise was stressful and risky, to say the least. Add a long wait to the list and one would have a pissed-off Kim Taehyung. Only the big names in the underworld knew his real name. The rest of the world knew him by one menacing name– V. 

And they also knew not to get on V’s bad side.

It was a rainy afternoon, one could confuse the afternoon sky with that of dusk. The rain made it even more difficult to see through. But there was a certain shade that might just catch one’s eyes. He saw it from the corner of his eyes and then turned. It was pouring out and Taehyung had to squint and clear up the fog on his window to get a better look. And he kept looking after that– still as a tiger on alert.

It was Eui, his Eui in a police vehicle with an officer.

Taehyung’s gaze never left them, not even for a moment. But he knew the longer he stayed, the riskier things would get for him. His face was stoic and a blank canvas all the while.

“Drive away.” He commanded the man driving, no essence left in his voice.

There were no questions asked. The man drove away, and all the while, Taehyung’s eyes remained on her.

+---+

“I’m asking you again, Taehyung. Where is she?” Officer Jeong demanded.

“I should have killed you that day.”

+----+

“Taehyung? Are you home?” 

Her voice was melodious as ever. But this time, it did not soothe him. It burnt him. As if his skin was falling off. But he stood motionless in silence. Watching her from the dark corner of their room as she entered it.

“Tae?”

Taehyung felt an unpleasant shiver run down his spine. The tone, the voice. Filled with so much love turned his eyes glassy.

Lies.

Lies

Lieslieslieslies.

That was all he could hear in his head, that was all he could think of. Life could never be fair to him, could it? He was perhaps a cursed soul. A wretched on earth.

He saw as she tripped over the dead body on the floor, screaming out as soon as she realised that blood coated her hands and clothes.

“How many more?” He finally spoke up, walking into the little light that partially illuminated the room.

When she looked up, there was fear in her eyes, but it was not the only emotion swirling in those oceanic eyes. For the first time, her eyes spoke the truth. She let them. He realised that– they spoke because she let them.

“Your partner in crime.” He whispered out with a cold smirk but his eyes began to well up. “I’m–I’m one fucking…” he shook, stopping himself right before his voice could crack and give away his heartbreak and vulnerability. 

Instead, he fished out a lighter from his pocket and a pack of cigarettes. Taking in a shaky breath, he tried to keep his shivering hands steady as he lit the cigarette. All the while looking at the nightstand where the engagement ring sat. It was going to be his sweet surprise to her. He could look at anyone and anything but her. He could not even look at her, he could not risk meeting her eyes and exposing himself. He was a shell of a man before and now, a broken man.

“What is your real name?” He finally looked at her, being able to get a hold of himself finally.

“Tae I—” She shut up with the click of the gun he pointed at her.

“What is your name?” He gritted out.

“Eui, I am Eui you—”

“Your. Real.Name.” His voice was low but left no room for any more lies or questions

The silence that reigned after was thick and dangerous.

“(Y/N). My name is (Y/N).” she finally whispered, looking into his eyes without an ounce of fear. 

Taehyung nodded. A lone tear finally managed to escape his eye, though his face remained unreadable

“(Y/N)...” The name felt foreign yet oddly satisfying on his tongue “I really want to kill you right now.” 

His voice shook and so did his hands. But he did not care anymore.

+----+

“ You are going to be arrested either way Taehyung, so you better let (Y/N) go. She is our responsibility.” 

“She is mine!” Taehyung growled, but his words dragged into a warning tone. 

“She works for us, and I am not leaving without her. Now, where the hell is (Y/N)?”

“Hye! Hye?” 

Both Jeong Hye and Taehyung turned towards (Y/N) who managed to open the car door with effort.

“(Y/N)!” Pushing Taehyung out of the way, he rushed towards her.

While Taehyung watched, glaring at Officer Jeong’s back before he fired his gun.

****

Inspiration- 'Gender' by Really Slow Motion

Jeon Jungkook was the kind of boy one’s parents would invite for dinner. The model student, polite, lovable, funny, good in sports, good at everything. Not the valedictorian but fairing well enough to aim for the top universities. 

No wonder (Y/N)’s parents were happy with their son’s choice of friend circle– well, maybe not the circle as a whole, but if Jeon Jungkook and Kang Dayhun were friends, they were all too happy to have his influence on their son. Like every parent, they wanted the best for their children, after all.

Being the eldest child came with a hell of pressure and responsibilities. Like most parents, her parents wanted their eldest child to fare better than them in his life– the expectations, the standards– it was all in the skies and to (Y/N), it was clear that the pressure was crushing him.

She often wondered, why could their parents not see, he was doing his best?

Things were much different for her. She was the youngest in the family after all. She was saved from the overwhelming pressure and scrutiny.

“Is the table ready (Y/N)? And don’t you dare pick up the fries, they’re for Jungkook!” 

Their mother could not be more obvious in showing her anticipation and excitement for hosting the Golden Boy of the town. She ran around, fussing over every detail, even the most irrelevant ones.

“ Dayhun, son, are you sure these are his favourite flowers?”

“You never even bothered to bring Dad his favourites?” (Y/N) hid no malice behind her words, so her mother’s glare had the fourteen-year-old clueless.

“He’s coming here with his parents, (Y/N). You know how influential the Jeons are?”

“I know they’re famous here? Have the picture-perfect family and lots of money.” (Y/N) replied innocently.

Her mother neared her “Yes, child, yes. But if we manage to get in their good graces, we can have a brilliant future ahead. Don’t you want that?”

“But wasn’t this about Dayhun and Jungkook?” She was confused now.

Her mother smiled “Of course it is. Jungkook is our priority. But it is always better to have good connections around.”

—----

Even when in high school, Jeon Jungkook stood out. He was tall, and lean but had a stature that visibly showed his capabilities. Despite some of his sharp features, he did sport two round doe eyes that reminded her of rabbits. No wonder her classmates were going crazy for him.

Jungkook was of her brother’s age, seventeen. While she was fourteen. Most people might assume that Jungkook was immediately her school crush. No, he wasn’t, she had seen him a handful of times before he was invited with his family for dinner, but all she knew was her brother’s friend.

Jungkook was high on manners– no wonder her parents loved him. His smile was bright and contagious and his humour had won over the dinner table. Needless to say, he was the star of the evening. As always. But the thing was, him being the star would not bother anyone. He was an angel! Her parents loved him, her brother loved him, she did not hate him– what else would one want? It was the best impression any high schooler had put on her parents.

Maybe her mother’s words made sense? To the fourteen-year-old (Y/N) ‘connections’ meant making good, amiable friends, and the Jeons were just that.

+---+

“By the time my brother and Jungkook graduated from high school, Dad was already the branch manager in the company he had given so many years to. My brother stayed back but Jungkook was sent abroad, to learn the ins and outs of the business world.” 

(Y/N) explained to George, her boyfriend since college, as she rushed around– packing things up for the long holiday she had planned with her family.

She had stayed in the foreign land even after her graduation. While the job she was offered was the prime reason, it was also George.

“But why are you telling me about Jeon Jungkook?” George’s asked.

It was supposed to be the holiday when George would finally be introduced to her family. Why would her brother’s best friend matter?

“Because George, my parents adore him, he’s their ‘ideal son and ideal man’ model.” She rolled her eyes with her fingers in the air.

“You are not a fan of him, are you?”

(Y/N) sighed “It’s just that…I don’t care. I just don’t like it that someone outside our family would have an influence on them,, especially to the extent that I have to tell my boyfriend all about him so that he could be in that guy’s good books.”

“Saadd~” George sang out with mockery.

“Sad indeed.” She couldn’t help but nod.

—-------

“Okay, I have told them that I am bringing my friend with me.”

“What? You didn’t tell them that I’m your boyfriend?”

“Don’t worry, they will understand. For now, just focus on your first impression. Be free, don’t crack your terrible jokes just smile, okay?”

 (Y/N) explained to him as she drove into her house’s driveway, a bring smile making its way as soon as she was inside the gates 

“Just smile as I am smiling.” She spoke through her grin.

“Aye, Sir!” George gave a salute before the car came to a halt and they stepped out.

“(Y/N), you made it!” Her mother was visibly glowing. (Y/N) observed as her smile stretched.

She was excited too– beaming with happiness. It had been almost two years since she had seen her family physically– video calls and pictures stood in no comparison to the feeling of home and warmth.

Her job was demanding and her brother worked under the Jeons now. So, while he did live with his parents, he was constantly travelling with and without his friend and boss– Jeon Jungkook.

The man was supposed to visit their home with his parents for dinner. The (L/N) residence was different– not the mediocre house she remembered from her childhood memories. It was now a house with life-sized glass walls, five bedrooms, two servants, one cook and one gardener who gave a weekly visit to tend to the beautifully kept garden at the back of the house and the lawn on the front. It was a lovely villa that showed off their elevated status clear and loud. It had kept memories as well– after all, it was purchased when she was still in college. But maybe, she liked the old house and the old neighbour better.

But she could tell how happy her parents and brother were about the house– it symbolised Dahyun and her father’s economic ascension. And most importantly, the place was closer to her family’s favourites in the town– the Jeons, who, with their expanding and promising business, resided in a sprawling mansion. She was not sure about Jeon Jungkook’s whereabouts though.

Much to (Y/N)’s surprise, her family’s reception of George had been…smooth, no questions asked, not a speck of suspicion in their eyes. None of them even bothered to ask about a foreign man’s closeness with their daughter– their only daughter. They were amiable to him, warm with their reception and mingled with him as if they had known him for years.

But their response to George only fuelled her confidence regarding the revelation of her relationship with him. 

Maybe she was thinking too much? Her family would have no problem sending their daughter away to a foreign land as a permanent resident there. They would not object to her marrying a foreign man after all.

The conclusion blessed her with a sense of relief as she tried to decide the right time for the disclosure.

—------

The night lit up with laughter and chit-chat. Jeon Jungkook was running late due to something work-related, Mr Jeon had explained to (Y/N). Jungkook’s parents were warm to her, as always. But this time, they seemed to have missed her, for they had brought her a pendent set of sapphire and diamond. 

Two earrings and the delicate but custom-made intricate designed pendant with the blue and white winking stones were surely eye-catching. But it was the single-string bracelet that came with it was the set that made her accept the expensive gift– the most expensive gift she had received from the Jeons yet.

“Oh, don’t you worry child, you deserve it, we have missed you so dearly.” Jungkook’s mother had scoffed away her refusals. 

(Y/N) did not want to seem rude and ungrateful, so she accepted the gift that she knew cost a fortune, but it was probably minimal for the Jeons. Something that Mr Jeon would frequently gift his wife.

There was no doubt that the set was stunning, something one would imagine wearing on the most special days, and on her mother’s insistence, she wore the bracelet for the rest of the dinner.

It was about an hour later and five calls from his father– two of which were never picked up– that Jeon Jungkook rang the bell. His entrance was no dramatic feet or anything, but maybe his transformation was, to some extent.

(Y/N) remembered him as slightly shorter,  of the lithe frame and short hair, a highschooler with doe-eyes(he still had them, gladly), clear skin, except for the occasional pimples and acnes that came with teenage years and pretended to cause havoc.

But this Jungkook was not the boy she remembered him as– he was a man, surely– something not only his towering and perfectly proportioned frame showed, but also his aura. His face was now pristine,honey-shaded porcelain and doll-like lips now sported a piercing, like one of his eyebrows, she had noticed the two dots later.

As soon as his eyes found hers, she found herself containing the urge to gulp as she subconsciously leaned towards George who stood by her.

“(Y/N)! It has been so long huh? I almost did not recognise you.” His smile remained the same, reminding her of a bunny.

“Yes, it has been a while.”

“Six years.” He added as he stood in front of her, towering.

“Six years?” 

No wonder so much changed about him. Jungkook nodded with a smile before his eyes shifted to George.

“Oh, he’s my friend. He joined me here for the holidays.”

George greeted Jungkook with enthusiasm and in return was greeted with warmth. It was barely a problem to teach him about her culture. He knew the culture and language– his mother was Korean and his father was American. He was, evidently, the best of both worlds. It was, after all, the one trait that caught her attention.

The evening rolled on with laughter and a generally light environment until it was time for dessert.

(Y/N) watched as her father rose from his cushioned seat and rang the delicate spoon against the ceramic to gain everyone’s attention, he had it in seconds.

“Since we have all gathered here– I mean each and every one of us–It has been long since we have had such occasions, all the children and the parents–anyway, I’m steering away from the topic– yes, so, we are all here, enjoying dinner and each other’s company after a long time…”

Turning to (Y/N), he offered a smile before continuing–

“You know, I remember both of these just running around the old house, chasing each other, chasing butterflies, cycling– the general stuff. We used to think we had that we had a long way ahead, bringing up the children. And maybe it is true– that’s a long journey…But it certainly did not feel long. All of a sudden, Dayhun was going to a university and (Y/N) was leaving for college– flying to a completely foreign land and we felt jobless.”

The room burst into chuckles. 

“But we were wrong. We were not jobless. Parenthood is a lifetime process. And so is friendship. The Jeons have shown their trust in us by giving Dahyun a chance into a responsible and accessible post as the Operational Manager of the company…”

“And he has not disappointed, no one could have done this job better than Dahyun, the man has worked at the ground level to know the ins and outs.” Mr Jeon commented, smiling at Dahyun

“I agree, I have no idea what I would have done without Dahyun” Jungkook chimed in, patting her brother on the back. He was evidently happy with her brother’s work.

“Yes, so, it would only make sense if we showed our trust in the Jeons too. And when Daejung came to me with a proposal, we immediately recognised it as a sign– a sign to show our trust in the Jeons…By giving our daughter’s hand in marriage to their only son– and a son to us as well– Jungkook.”

The laughter and clapping in the room was muffled in (Y/N)’s ears, all she could hear was her clear, loud and rapid heartbeat– it was like she were in a dream, everything was too slow, too unreal and full of surprises.

Looking around, she caught Jungkook’s eyes, he smiled at her, his gaze set on her– as if reading, calculating.

“Of course, of course if (Y/N) has no problem to the union?” Her father added moments later.

She looked around the expectant gazes set on her frozen form. Jungkook’s expression remained unreadable. 

Shaking off the shock, she prepared herself to tell them the truth– she was in love with George– George Winston.

“Actually I—”

“What a pleasant surprise (Y/N)? Isn’t that great?”

 She was left speechless at George’s interruption, his hand on her shoulder prevented her from rising.

“What are you saying?” She hissed

“Just play along.” He spoke through the grin.

“(Y/N)? Everyone is waiting, child.” It was her mother who spoke out.

Looking at the Jeons, she understood the meaning behind the expensive gift she received. Sapphire was Jungkook’s birthstone and the diamond signified eternal love and beauty.

—-----

“What the fuck were you thinking!” 

“Shh, calm down, your family will hear you.” George tried to pacify pacing (Y/N)

“Let them! I’m not—” she lowered her voice into a whisper “I’m not marrying Jeon Jungkook, I have hardly known him. This is atrocious! How could they do this to me?”

To say that she was upset, would be an understatement. She was on the verge of tears. 

“Why did you do this George? Why? What are you afraid of?”

“Because (Y/N), it's clear who holds the reign here. I did not want to shock and offend everyone like that–rejecting the proposal and then revealing our relationship. A lot depends on the Jeons, you cannot afford to offend them in any way.” 

“Now you are talking like my mother.”

“And she is right (Y/N). We will reveal our relationship, you will not get married to Jungkook, you have my word. (Y/N) I love you! How did you even think that I would let you be married to some other man here?”

“But now what? I said yes, I had to!”

“We will find some other way. The engagement date has not been fixed yet, we have time. We will find a nicer, gentler way– something that would not go against your family’s future (Y/N). Okay?”

She knew that he was right. The Jeons were powerful people, her brother’s career depended on them. She could not counter that. She had to find another way.

—------

There could be no better way than to talk it out to Jeon Jungkook, (Y/N) had figured out. While she knew she should have shared her thoughts with George, she feared he would not see this as she did.

She might not have been very close to Jungkook, but she knew him, he was a well-mannered, mind-tempered boy, given that was the version six years ago, and that she had only met him two days ago…

The realisation made her halt.

The Jungkook she knew was just a high schooler. The man who joined her family for dinner. And he looked different, to put it lightly.

But it was too late, she was already facing the receptionist in the gigantic Jeon Headquarters.

“Welcome Ma’am, I have already informed Mr Jeon of your arrival, he will be here shortly.”

“Eh, is there an appointment under my name?”

The receptionist seemed confused but smiled anyway “Why would you need an appointment, you are our boss’ fiancee.”

“Oh, you know that already?” 

“Ma’am everyone in the office knows who you are, Mr Jeon has—-”

“I’m here, Ara, thank you for informing me and keeping her company.”

Jungkook walked up to both of them with a ghost of a smile etched on his pierced lips. The tiny ring shone, along the theo dots on his eyebrow under the sunlight filtering in through the glass walls.

She expected him to question her, but there were no questions asked, he simply guided her towards the elevator.

“What a pleasant surprise, but since you are here, and I have no tight schedule, why not show you around?” he offered once the elevator doors closed.

“There is no need of that Jungkook—”

“Yes, yes, you already work in the corporate world, an office tour is probably the last thing on your mind, are you hungry? We can go for some brunch.” He continued as they walked inside his office.

His attitude surprised her. Did he not have a lover, an affair? Anything at all? He seemed all too happy to entertain her. Did he have no objection to this marriage at all? He knew her just as much as she did, they never really had any deep conversation.

But now that she came to think about it, he did not show much of a reaction to the wedding announcement.

“Jungkook, I have something important to tell you.” Her words made his steps halt. 

“And I’m all ears.” He hummed before shutting the door for privacy and gesturing for her to take a seat on the leather couch in his office.

Gingerly, she joined him there.

“Jungkook-shi…”

“Jungkook is fine (Y/N), you make me seem like a stranger.” He scoffed playfully.

“Yes, Jungkook…Are you– I mean are you okay with this marriage?”

His smile faltered at that. Though his smile still remained, he frowned

“Why would I have an objection? I always knew that we are going to tie the knot someday."

“What?” She was officially growing resentful of surprises.

Jungkook’s smile returned to its full force, it seemed the same but felt different. His smile did not change much, but it did not reach his eyes either.

“Was it not obvious enough?”

“But I never wanted to marry you.”

The words slipped out before she had the time to sugarcoat them.

She had expected the smile to fall from his face, and it did. But it peeked out in a slow, sinuous manner– she was looking at a completely different man.

But it was too late anyway, she had to take the chance.

“I am...I’m in love with someone else Jungkook.”

There, she had said it out loud and clear. The silence shared between them was nothing if not vaporized tension– it had begun to turn eerie when Jungkook moved– tilting his head as his eyebrow-piercing gleamed ominously.

She cleared her throat but failed to clear the tension. But finally, Jungkook spoke up.

“We were supposed to select the rings today–tch-completely slipped my mind.” He scoffed and the smile returned to his face. “Come on, we need to get there soon, after that, we can have a lavish dinner–what do you think?”

(Y/N) blinked. Did he not hear her?

“Jungkook, I cannot marry you.”

She asserted, looking up at the man who now stood, looming over her like a threat to the future she had pictured with George.

“Of course, you can, Jagi. Now, shall we go?” His palm was large. She observed when he offered it to her graciously.

“Didn’t–did you not hear me?”

Jungkook licked his lips and let the smile fall. He bent on his knee, lowering for her. Up close, she realised that he looked like a completely different man. She could see and feel how well-built he was. The type that would evoke both fear and admiration.

“You are one naive creature…Look around you (Y/N). Everything you see, everything you touch, belongs to the Jeons. Including you and your family.” He spoke as if he was dealing with his daily business- money-matters.

When she refused to move, he sighed and rose up, now looking down at her with pursed lips, as if she were a petulant child. If anything. He was the one with stubbornness, showing his influence in place of stomping his foot.

“Here is how things are going to happen, Honey. You will come with me, choose the rings, we will have lunch, get to the boutique your mother has chosen and choose your wedding gown dress and give them measurements and ideas about your dress, we get dinner, reach your home, eat with your family and I leave after that. Everything would remain normal and I would consider that this conversation never happened. So…”

He offered his palm again.

But this time, a defiant glare replaced the confusion in her eyes.

“And what if I don’t?”

The question hung in the air for a couple of tense moments, before he scoffed, looking away and shaking his head before he bent down smoothly, surprising her into a vulnerable position. She had been surprised by Jungkook, she had been flattered by his exceptional kindness towards her before, but she had never feared him, until now. Up close, with his dark orbs set on her, he was, for the first time, intimidating to her. Her throat dried up as she pressed herself to the leather of the couch.

“If you don’t, I will have your brother removed from every privileged position and favours I have so generously bestowed upon him and make sure your family ends up on the streets. I will make sure your so-called loverboy is removed from every record available– authorities cannot search for a man who does not exist. And you would still be married to me.”

(Y/N) could not decipher what she felt– it was an awful amalgamation of fear, distress, anger, resentment, shock and many more she could not pinpoint. But his words and the promise he held in his sharp gaze left her breathless.

“So,” he moved away, giving her the space to breathe “It is up to you. I know you are not a fool. So, choose wisely– either way, you are going to end up on the wedding altar. I like your family (Y/N), do not make me do things I might regret later, hmm?”

She flinched when the back of his hand touched her cheek, running over her skin delicately as if she was made of glass.

“You know…” She gulped, trying to steady herself and arrange her words right. “You know that you can have anyone you want.”

He nodded with a smug smile tugging his lips “I know, Jagi. And that’s why you are here– the girl I have always wanted. Now, let’s get going, we do not have all day.”

This time, he did not wait for her, he simply, grasped her hand and dragged her along.

—-----

He drove her to an exclusive store that had on display what she had only seen celebrities showing off. The Jeons were not limited to just the town, she had realised during the dinner itself. They had their reach to the capital and beyond.

She remained mostly quiet during her time in the expansive store, and to her pleasure, it evidently irked Jungkook. But she knew that she could not keep this game for long. Such passive actions would only irk him, nothing more. He would still be able to do what he pleased, however, he pleased.

“As amusing and adorable as I find this attitude of yours, I have had a long day and it is getting on me, (Y/N).” He whispered from behind as he locked her gaze through the mirror, the pendant he had chosen for her hung around her neck. 

“Good.” She shot back, glaring at him through the mirror. 

But he only smiled a cold, cryptic smile that made her stomach flip.

“Trust me, Jagi, you would not like to upset me.”

A couple of hours with him and she already felt trapped. There was no question regarding her refusal of this marriage. She did not like Jeon Jungkook, not even one bit. But it was not about just the disdain– it was the fact that she feared him too. She had never found him intimidating before, but the way his large, tattooed hand sat on her shoulder imposingly, she knew that she had to warn George.

—------

“Where were you?” 

Worry would be an understatement to what (Y/N) had been feeling ever since she arrived home and found that George had gone to explore the town all by himself. And he was not answering her calls. She had only managed to call him twice.

Jungkook had filled through each of his words, they had lunch together before he took her to his friend’s boutique where her measurements were taken and designs for the wedding dress had been chosen. After that, they packed an elaborate dinner to share with her family before finally returning home. But of course, Jungkook had to share the dining table with her parents tonight and openly show how delighted he was by the arrangement

“(Y/N), please calm down, I went to—”

“Yeah, Mom told me, you went to explore the town, but why the hell did your phone just kept ringing?”

“I had kept it on silent accidentally (Y/N), I’m sorry okay?” He snapped, his waning patience now visible.

“George, I was worried here! Don’t show me that attitude.”

“Keep your voice down (Y/N), your family will hear you!” He hissed.

“Then let them! It is the only option left now anyway!” She ran her fingers through her hair.

“What do you mean?”

She choose a short pause, feeling drained and helpless like never before. She was not only worried about the marriage now but also about keeping George safe.

“What is it?” Now he sounded concerned, and it made the tears surface.

“George, we need to leave, we all need to leave as soon as possible it is not as simple anymore, I don’t know what my and his family had made a deal about but this marriage cannot be stopped.”

“What are you talking about (Y/N)?”

“George you need to leave, he–he threatened me.” She lowered her voice but the tension remained thick in the air.

“Hey, hey, hey. Calm down, calm down okay? Here, sit.” He gently led her to the bed, making sure she sat comfortably there “I will bring you some water.”

“No I don’t want water George, I want a ticket back. For now, you must leave, so I can deal with everything once you are safe George. You need to leave before he finds out.”

George paused, his eyes narrowing, “What do you mean? Did you…?”  He left the question incomplete, but he needed no more confirmation than her nodding. 

“I had to do something?” She was spelt out hopelessly.

George ran his hand through his dark brown hair, frustration and fear evident in his eyes.

“George we can—”

“Why the hell did you have to go to him when I told you not to? Are you fucking stupid? What the fuck is wrong with you? Fuck!”

He walked away with his hands on his waist before he began pacing in the room.

“George?” She tested the waters.

With a long sigh, that followed a longer pause, he finally looked at her again.

“I didn’t want to do this but…” He shut his eyes tightly, hesitant to continue before letting out another laboured sigh.

“I am not going anywhere (Y/N). I can’t.”

—----

“It's weird Jungkook took you for the wedding dress measurements first, this boy.” 

Aunt Eunhae shook her head as she went through the arrays of silks, satin, cotton and muslin, a woman followed behind her and (Y/N), ready to assist.

Her to-be mother-in-law took it upon herself to pick out the engagement dress. Even if the Jeons preferred to keep a low profile, some guests could not be left out. 

“How about this, child?” She picked out a pale lavender gown that moved with fluidity and appeared just as delicate as it felt comfortable on touch. “I would hate to see my daughter-in-law uncomfortable. I thought we could skip those overly fancy and choose something breathable.”

“Yes, I would like something breathable too. It's so soft.” At least there was something to help her out in the engagement lest she fell into a breathless fit in despair

“Muslin Madames, made with Indian cotton, designed in Milan and the embroidery is hand stitched.”

“You like it? Give it a try.” Aunt Eunhae insisted.

“Okay.” (Y/N) managed a faint smile with a nod.

It turned out that  Aunt Eunhae had an incredible knowledge of textiles as she had exquisite taste. The chiffon outer layer gave the gown all the ramp-up it needed while it was shimmery on the outside, the soft muslin was soothing on her skin. If there was anything she was looking forward to about the engagement, it was wearing this gown.

“You have been so quiet, are you okay?”

Aunt Eunhae’s words made her look up from the menu, not that she was paying attention to that either– she kept floating in and out of her daydreams and thoughts.

“Yes, I am fine, Aunty, don’t worry.”

“Call me Mother now, I have always adored you so much, child.” She waved her hand lightly, (Y/N) smiled but Eunhae’s eyes remained on her “I know that the marriage proposal came abruptly. But I want you to know that I had never seen you as an outsider, child. I adore you, you should know that by now.”

There was no lie to that. Aunt Eunhae always wanted a second child, a daughter, specifically, but due to some complications, they could not have another offspring– Jungkook was their only child. When the (L/N)s came into the picture, (Y/N) filled out the place for a daughter.

“I know, Mother.”

“And so, you should know that my affection for you would not change even if you call off the engagement.”

“Mother?”

She shook her head “I am a middle-aged woman (Y/N), and I can sense cover-ups from miles away. You are not ready for the engagement.

“Was.” (Y/N) corrected.

“Huh?”

“I was not ready, to be honest. But after spending some time with Jungkook… I realised that—” she gulped “That I could give this a chance.”

“Really?” Eunhae’s tone reflected her relief.

“Yes, really.”

—----

The engagement date was fixed just as swiftly as the marriage proposal was presented on her return. Now she doubted whether she would even be returning to America or not.

“You look exquisite, my darling child.” Her mother gushed as she fixed the strands of (Y/N)’s hair– framing her face delicately.

She wore a necklace of freshwater pearls, the subtle lavender lustre went perfectly well with the gown. The set contained a pair of tear-drop earrings, and a single strand of the necklace with an amethyst in the centre, sitting perfectly in the middle.

The engagement was to take place at Jeon Mansion– or so she thought.

It was the Jeons' permanent home but not the mansion she remembered from her early days was no more there. She had only been there a handful of times, and they were renovating and expanding but she had never thought of it growing into an estate- Servant Quarters littered near the main building, crafted gardens, a man-made pond hosting varieties of koi fish, a number of dogs, a ground for golf, and the rest was yet to be discovered. 

The Jeons were royals.

“You are going to live here, you see? Jungkook is their only child (Y/N), you will be the queen of this estate!”

“I know, Mom, and that makes you very happy.”

(Y/N) did not bother to hide her spite as she sat stiffly in the car her mother drove. Her brother and father were already in the mansion.

The said mansion was perfectly suited for the expansive estate– it was an imposing building with elements of modern and traditional architecture fused to stun.

“Did you and Jungkook have a disagreement? Do not worry about that child. Once you are married, your husbands are bound to listen. Eunhae adores you, mr Jeon loves you too and Jungkook, have you seen his eyes whenever he looks at you?”

“Yes, Mom, I now see how he looks at me.” She replied flatly, her mind going back to a week ago.

+----+

“I’m not going anywhere (Y/N), I can’t.” 

“What?” (Y/N)’s voice refused to rise above a whisper “What do you mean George?”

George did not reply– only ran his fingers through his hair and looked away.

“George, I’m asking  you something, George!”

“I didn’t want to do this! I did not want to risk so many lives…”

“George, what are you saying? I don’t understand…”

George looked at her with eyes she felt foreign to. Without another word, he picked up his travel bag, opened it and from somewhere deep within, fished out a card.

An Identity Card.

Police.

+----+

The mansion was twinkling with all the lighting arrangements, simply as per Aunt Eunhae’s taste- simple, delicate but unique. The said woman was waiting by the entrance with her husband and the rest of their families. 

(Y/N) smiled at her brother and father approaching 

“For once, you do not look like an ape.” There he was, her most beloved brother.

“At least come up with a better insult, I have been hearing the same since I was six.”

“Because that was when I found out that I have an ape for a sister.”

“Okay now, Dahyun, let your sister be for once, it's her engagement today.” Their mother chided him.

Dahyun only shrugged “Save your tears for the wedding Mom.”

“I am not in tears honey, but look at that nervous smile you have.”

Dahyun only rolled his eyes before leading (Y/N) inside the mansion. The celebration hall was not let stuffed with people, but there were close friends and family members around. And they all were so warm and welcoming, it made her wonder what wrong might at occurred during Jeon Jungkook’s birth. 

He was such an entitled—

As if her thoughts summoned the devil, he appeared, seemingly out of thin air, with a smile that made him look just as much of an ideal as he looked gorgeous– she had to admit that the man could turn head wherever he went. 

She noticed that he chose to match the colours– a white shirt, pale lavender blazer and trousers along with his hair brushed back and tied into a bun. He was a sight to behold, but his eyes could make the devil proud.

“You look ravishing, Jagi.”

His compliment brought ‘awws’ giggles and whistles from the people around, but she could only manage a smile. That was all she could come up with at the moment. Her eyes flickered, and she spotted George in the corner with ease.

Gulping down a scowl, she looked away. She had been too ignorant, too naive, that was why she was where she was.

“Smile, Love,” Jungkook whispered to her as he led her towards the couch reserved for them.“Look around you, the people love you because you are going to be a part of the family. Is it so bad to become my wife? Be the mistress of the household? Have everything on your fingertips?”

Yes!

Yes, it is.

She remained quiet, sitting beside him like a lifeless doll.

“Answer me (Y/N)...”

I NEVER WANTED THIS!

She wanted to scream it out, it was a cliff on one end and a well on the other, nowhere to go. Betrayal on one side and an unwanted union on the other.

Jungkook did not poke further, only sighed softly and held her closer. She was thankful for the little kindness. 

Her eyes found George again, he stood at the corner, with her brother, both of them enjoying the delicacies and drinks being served.

+----+

“What…what is this George?”

It was like her mind had numbed down suddenly, frozen, unable to function, unable to read the letters properly. But she knew, deep inside her mind she knew what it was leading to.

“That is not my real name. I can’t tell you my real name yet.”

She remained quiet, still processing. But he continued.

“We have been tracking Jeon Jungkook for a while now. He is not the businessman he shows himself to be. He is involved in the illegal drug buisness and weapons supplies. His father started it, but it was only the headache of this government. But by the time Jeon Jungkook took over, the business has expanded its reach, it is an international matter. We have been keeping an eye on him for the last seven years– as he was the only known heir to his father’s throne. The Jeons dominated the underbelly of this nation, and they have no intention to stop. We were growing desperate. Jeon Junhae was a far-sighted, clever man, he covered his steps well, cooked the black into white and kept the price. Jeon Jungkook is four steps ahead of his father. We needed a weak string.” 

He paused and eyed her still form, before looking away to continue.

“And then, one of our informants here was able to gain access to his room. We did not find anything substantial business-wise but we found a photo album. It was you. Each and every picture was yours, and there were also some sketches of you. The earliest of them was when you were fourteen or fifteen maybe. We found our way into the wolf’s lair.”

This time, she stumbled back, almost tripping before ‘George’ caught her, worry flashed in his eyes along with sympathy, but there was not a trace of regret. Gently, he helped her sit on the bed.

“I was assigned this…Project.” He eyed her warily as he confessed.

Project…

The time they shared, their relationship, their moments, their nights, their days, their love…Everything was reduced to ashes... No, a ‘Project’

How many people had made her a pawn in their games?

“Please tell me it’s all a li-lie, please George, I will be reduced to nothing…Do you even hear yourself? We have three whole years George! Please…”

She reached her hand to hold his, and even with her tightening grasp and begging, his fingers remained loose and still as if he were an unfeeling puppet

“George…” She sobbed out, her emotions running everywhere as her thoughts. 

This could not be possibly true? 

Why must fate be so cruel to her? Why must she suffer for others’ greed?

+----+

“Today, we gather here to witness the testament of Mr Jeon and Mr (L/N)’s friendship as we attend the engagement of two lovely souls, the apple of the eyes of their respective families– Jeon Jungkook, my best friend and boss, and my beloved little sister, my baby, (L/N) (Y/N).”

At Dahyun’s words, the room erupted in smiles and clappings. Happiness and flamboyance echoed through the walls of the Jeon Estate as Jungkook slipped the engagement ring over her finger– the sapphire fit perfectly. But she felt a snake wounding around her finger, trying to crush her will.

But she smiled through it all. She had to.

+---+

“You drag me into the games of yours, you use me and yet have the audacity to ask this?” Anger was a far cry from what she felt. Even she could not pinpoint the exact emotion.

“Your brother and father are close to Jeon Junhae and his son– our main target– Jeon Jungkook. If you do not help me, help us, they are going to be treated criminally by the law too. Their involvement is too deep for the government to give them a clean chit (Y/N). One way or the other, we will expose Jeon Jungkook and his father, your family is going to be wrapped in the dirt, even if they might be innocent.”

“They are. Innocent.” She glared at the man in front of her. It was like a  stranger had slipped under George’s skin.

‘George’ nodded grimly “I can believe you. But the court runs on evidence, (Y/N), and their close associating with the Jeons would only act against them.”

(Y/N)’s shoulder sagged at his words. Her mind ran miles but found no respite.

“I know that you love your family (Y/N), you would do anything for them. This is the easiest way to save them. Work with us to bring Jeon Jungkook down and we will make sure that your family is saved.”

“You just told me that they are dangerous people…” She whispered.

“We assure you that you will have people watching over you in the mansion, your safety is our responsibility. If you choose to help us. You are the most efficient way to reach Jungkook and expose him. He is in love with you, to put it lightly.”

“When…When this is over, my family will be safe?”

“You have my word.”

She narrowed her eyes at the response.

“You lied to me before, I have no reason to believe in your ‘word’.”

The man nodded

“I understand your lack of trust. But I want you to know that I do not mean any harm to you or your family. I did betray you, but only because I am devoted to my uniform and the duties that come with it. You know that too (Y/N). I know you would never want to be trapped with a man like Jungkook. I offer you and your family a new life once this is over. But you will have to help us (Y/N), get to us all the crucial information we will need.”

She simply sat there, still and numb.

She could not even bring herself to look at the man in front of her anymore. 

“I will leave you alone for now. Get some rest.”

With that, ‘George’ began to walk out of the room.

“George.”

 When she finally gathered the courage to look up, his back was already turned to her. He stilled but did not turn around. But she could not care about that anymore. She could not afford to– even if it tore her apart.

“Can I ask for another favour?” 

There was no response but an empty silence. 

“When all this is over…Please do not show your face to me ever again.”

He said nothing, only walked away in silence, leaving her all alone in the quiet night.

+----+

The ring twinkled under the light. It was lovely to look at, and it felt even more unreal with Jungkook holding her hand so delicately. When it was her turn to put a ring on his finger, she felt cold. When she was a moment late, Jungkook’s hand wrapped around hers before he gave it a gentle squeeze, and she was not sure if it was a gesture of reassurance or a threat.

But she managed to gear up a faint smile anyway and slid the ring on his finger before he rose his hand to proudly display it, evoking cheers, hooting, lighter and claps.

“Congratulations on your engagement kids!”

Who was holding the mic? Oh, it was Jeon Junhae, his father.

Confetti flew around with balloons being tossed in the air as Jungkook pulled her close to him.

Camera flashes flooded out, the champagne bottles popped open, and people rushed in the greet Jungkook and her, to have a better look at her. And she braced for it all.

The word was cheering, but she wore a smile to hide her tears.

****

So here it is, finally. Incredibly late but done at last. At this rate, I think before I complete my second request, I would be greeting everyone with a happy new year.

Please let me know what you think of this as a reader, constructive criticism is always welcome.

Now I can begin working on the final part of hyungline and hopefully, it would not take an eternity.

The Taste of Deceit: Hyungline Part 2 Finale (Namjoon 2/2)

The Taste of Deceit Masterlist

Hyungline: Part 1, Part 2(Jin and Yoongi, Hoseok), Part 1/2

Warning- Blood, violence

Unedited. Kindly excuse my errors. if you find anything significantly wrong, please let me know.

This has to be my most annoying experience with Tumblr.

The club was packed. Packed to the brim.

Neon lights flickered along with artificial smoke as the beat made the crowd cheer and hoot, raise their hands as the DJs played mash hits. It was the party season and those who could afford to be in any of Lee Henchin's clubs were having a blast.

A shadow moved seamlessly between the dancing and grinding bodies. Smoke, alcohol and even white power on some. As midnight occurred, the beats grew more intense. But the shadow glided towards the underground kitchen.

.

"We are done for the night." Lee Henchin plopped down on the velvet sofa, throwing his head back.

"Thanks man." He thanked his guest who poured him a drink before filling is own glass.

"My pleasure." the man smiled before taking gulp.

"Now that we are free, we can speak of what is truly important. So, Mr Park. It would have been an honour though, had your boss graced his place with his presence."

"I suppose you have the information what happened with the deal regarding the gulf shipment."

"I have heard about the deal and how terribly wrong it went. It's a joint-loss." Henchin nodded as he took a swig before refilling his glass.

Mr Park observed him. For moments, none of them spoke.

"He wants a favour."

The hallway on the second floor was lit up with neon green and blue, but a certain turn led to a corridor plunged in red. The trolley rolled smoothly though the surface– the three-tire filled bottles of scotch and bourbon, ice– mixers and garnishes. It was a bar on wheels.

Henchin would leave no stone unturned in providing the best hospitality to people important to him– those who could bring him profit.

"Nobody has seen him for a while now Mr Park. There are rumours floating all around."

Mr Park only smiled before finishing his drink.

"Lets get down to business shall we?"

.

The smooth roll of the three tired tray came to a quiet stop as soon as a hand rose in the air.

"We need to check your ID first." The imposing man loomed over six feet.

"But I work here."

"It's Boss' order. Now, ID please." he demanded gruffly, leaving no room for argument.

"Sure." The waitress nodded and turned her eyes to her side to pull out the exclusive ID Card.

.

"Why not Gangnam? There are still many clubs waiting for their share– they paid millions Mr Park."

"There is a shift in priority Henchin. You are our most important distributor– you wield influence over the market here like no other. We have expectations for you."

'Well, Gangnam is where most of the money flows from and–"

"Twelve million."

"Sorry?"

"Twelve million, in dollars. Last time it was six right, we offer you a deal of twelve million dollars."

All incoming excuses dried up in Henchin's mouth as she leaned back to weigh his options and profits."

"You can think closely of it for now. Excuse me." With that Mr Park excused himself to the restroom.

.

The bodyguard frowned.

"This is not—"

His head jerked back before he could finish his words. The bullet was faster.

The other three guards jumped to action even before the dead guard's body touched the ground.

(Y/N) jumped on one of them, locking his head between her head while leveraging the position to shoot down two of the guards in succession.

The man in her hold elbowed her back as they both landed on the ground, struggling to gain control. (Y/N) did not leave his head, her knees tightened around his neck while she blocked another blow from him.

His leg latched on to her arm blocked his elbow, managing to free his hand from her grip. Instead, it stretched and reached for her throat. She jabbed her elbow on his arm with enough force to bend it. He screamed in agony and that gave her all the time to shoot him right in his head.

Blood splashed on the floor as the man lay dead with open eyes.

(Y/N) looked up at the sound of rushing footsteps. Of course...

She fired at the approaching men while unlatching the dead man from her. Three more silenced gunshots fired at the men– mission one, injuring the other and killing one with a headshot.

When they fired, their gunshots alerted the whole floor.

"Shit!"

She had rolled away at the right moment but a bullet did manage to graze her arm. She breathed deeply as pain spread across her arm, but there was no room to rest. Quickly grabbing the dead guard's gun, she shot the attackers dead.

But of course, this was not the end. Cursing, she took the now dead guards' guns. She needed them. And more. Rushing towards the beginning of the corridor, she used the wall as a shield, slowing them down as she fired at them. Two of them down. Four three bullets gone, and the other three had ducked behind walls as well.

Great!

She hissed, narrowly missing a bullet when her injured arm was strained further, drawing out more blood. But she had no time to tend to that.

As soon as another head peeked out, she fired. A head shot– one more down. But there was no time to engage in a gunfire battle for long. Firing another round, she managed to injure another before bolting towards the room Henchin was at.

Quickly grabbing the ID now speckled with blood,  she inserted it to a slit and the door unlocked.

She shot the first guard who came into view. Then using the door to shield herself from other bullets, she shot the nearest attacker's foot, earning a pained scream but he managed to swing his arm. She blocked it mid-air, stabbing her feet on his shot foot– but his scream was caught midway when she shot him in the neck while shutting the door lock.

Henchin's scream vaguely reached her ears as he scrambled to get away.

"KILL HER! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU LOOKING AT?"

.

The muffled sounds of gunshots echoed in the isolated restroom as Mr Park calmly fixed the buttons of his suit. His eyes gleamed with the ghost of a smile as he checked his watch.

.

She groaned at one of the his men kicked the back of her knee, making her fall flat on the ground. His foot stomped over the back of her knee and she wheezed. She fired her gun, shooting his right on his shin. His leg moved from her and he fell on her and squeezed her injured arm.

"Argh! Son of a bitch!"

It was painful, to say the least. Using all her weight, she flipped him over and pinned him with her knees and a hand on his throat, while firing on the rest of her two attackers. She punched the man underneath her in two successive blows before looking up again.

Her eyes finally found her target scrambling to get away or get a gun. Keeping her steeled and ranging gaze locked with his flabbergasted and terrified one, she smirked coldly and shot the man underneath her dead.

.

Mr Park's hands were tucked in his trouser pockets. The sound of crashing and breaking reached his ears. He turned his head slightly before checking his watch again.

It was time.

.

(Y/N) dodged the filled bottle of alcohol thrown at her as she dashed towards him. His hands were faster however, stabbing her on the shoulder right as she reached him grabbing his throat. She hissed, but continued to attack nevertheless.

The sound of footsteps was easily distinguishable in the otherwise deathly silent room. No hurry, no aggression, just slow, calculated steps. Both of them turned to look at Mr Park who stood at a distance.

"P-Park help me!"

Henchin demanded.

"Sure, Lee."

With that, Mr Park fired and they both stilled.

(Y/N) frowned when no bullet reached her, but instead, she turned to see the last of Henchin's men in the room drop dead.

But the distraction was enough for him to spring to action.

"FUCK YOU!"

In a moment, Henchin flipped her down, grabbing his previously discarded tie and wrapping it around her neck while he tried to stab her. He was going for her eye but one hand grabbed his wrist while the other went to poke his eye. The lapse in his strength gave her the perfect opportunity to bend his hand and jabbed the knife into his neck.

She blinked and her face was marred with his blood.

Finally, gaining the upper hand, she flipped him off and before he could move further, fired three shots at him.

Breathless, worn out and beat, she lay on the floor. Her throat parched, her body aching and her eyes filled up with unshed tears. One stray drop escaped through the corner of her eyes. The ceiling above was lit with golden lights but all she could see was her father's face.

"Are you crazy? We can't let you go alone!" Kyong would not relent, no matter what.

"This is personal Kyong. This is my battle."

He shook his head "I know you blame yourself for Dok's—"

"Henchin's men came that night. He was the one behind my father's murder Kyong. I saw it all unfold, hiding. And I could not do anything..."

"You were a child! What else could you do?" Han spoke up this time.

"But now I can...And I will. I can't let you both risk everything this time."

"But—"

"Kyong, please. You both want to help me? Ease my way in. Try to cover up for me...Even if I do not return."

"You are your father's daughter (Y/N). I had only heard of that man." Kyong was finally relenting.

"I am." her eyes moved to the tiger stuff toy sitting behind a shelf.

She understood the meaning behind her father's last gift now.

"If you are not back in an hour, (Y/N), we are coming up. No matter what happens."

"Kyong is right. One hour (Y/N) and you let us know if something goes wrong."

With a long sigh, she nodded.

The sound of sauntering footsteps and the glass shards crunching beneath the shoes brought her back to reality.

"My Lady..."

The voice was mellifluous but held a certain dip to it. His face cam into view before he offered his hand. Begrudgingly, she accepted it and stood up, finally feeling all the injuries hit her now that the adrenaline had left her body. His grip did not loosen though, instead, he turned it into a handshake.

"I'm Jimin. Park Jimin."

She nodded, still assessing him.

Why did he help her? Why was there not any sigh of caution or strain in his body language?

He was confident, calm, collected. He was no ordinary man.

"Oh, sorry, I never had the chance to meet you. Before hyung could introduce you us...You flew away."

Her frown smoothened in recognition.

Of course, he was Kim Namjoon's man. And the way he addressed the Underworld leader, she concluded that he was a part of Namjoon's close circle.

"How is he?"

Jimin smiled "Why don't you find out yourself?" with that, he fished out his phone and dialled a number before offering her his phone. Reluctantly, she took it.

"Hello? Jimin, any updates?"

Her heart skipped a beat. It had felt like an eternity. There was silence when she did not reply before he broke it himself

"(Y/N)?" There was a tremble in his voice.

"How are you Namjoon?" she finally asked.

"Your shot my shoulder when you could aim for my head. It just proves your love."

She shut her eyes and licked her lips.

"We can never be one Namjoon..."

"I could have saved Henchin...But I wanted to prove you my love."

"I don't doubt your love Namjoon...Think of it as wrong person, worst time. And forget me."

She heard him chuckle through the phone.

"You can run...for now. Not for long. I will find you Little Bird. i will reach you and then we can defy time, circumstances and the bloody destiny."

(Y/N) stood in silence as her stare hardened.

"You can try."

With that, she hung up and returned the phone to Jimin.

"It was nice meeting you, Mr Park."

Jimin smiled and nodded.

"Likewise." He replied as he watched her walk away. A bit slow, slightly limping but with a good grasp over her gun.

***

Finally, finished it.

2023 was a year. There was so much happening and going with the flow was the only option.

I tend to let things sink in before I fully assess and feel the intensity of my emotions. And BTS' enlistment was no different. Yes, Jin and Jhope's last MVs brought tears to my eyes, but none of their buzz-cut photos did. Then, before going to bed, I saw Namjoon's Instagram story before he joined the bootcamp...And I burst into tears. There were several reason, several aspects, my loss, my hopelessness, the post just acted as a trigger.

I used to think that I could always comfort myself, that I could handle things on my own--as I always have done. But that night, I realised how battered and tired I were. The year sucked me dry somehow, or maybe it was the final straw. But I realised that now and then, i need another person's comfort too. That sharing my grief with the right people would not make me a burden.

I think this is one of the reasons why this reaction stretched so much. It's 51k words in total (Part 1 and 2)-- only for hyngline. This was the way I found some comfort-- writing, and publishing it here.

So, no matter how the year went, I'm thankful to all of you for reading my stories.

A very happy and prosperous new year ahead my friends.

The Taste of Deceit: Hyungline Part 2( Finale- Namjoon 1/2)

Masterlist

The Taste of Deceit Masterlist

Hyungline: Part 1, Part 2(Jin and Yoongi, Hoseok)

Warnings- Gore, Violence, Grey Characters, Dead Dove Do Not Eat

Unedited. Kindly excuse my errors. if you find anything significantly wrong, please let me know.

It was peaceful for a good moment, the moment right before waking up before she noticed how everything felt muffled. Like her ears were covered. It was not particularly hard to open her eyes, but she needed to find her bearings and assess—

Splash!

"Wake up, bitch!"

It was a snarling, rough and raspy voice that did not come naturally, but only through chain smoking and of course, white powder. She opened her eyes, flinching from the numbing coldness and the wet sensation, a few ice cubes hit right above her left eye and she won't be surprised if it left a bruise.

The man starring right at her had eyes that told her that she was the only thorn in his eyes, as if his rotting life was worth any of it.

(Y/N) mentally rolled her eyes, while registering that her hands were bound behind her with the chair. Thankfully, her legs were free. Ignoring the man, she looked around, it was nothing out of her expectation– an ominously dark basement, while subtly twisting her wrists to get out of the poorly-knotted ropes.

"Oi! I'm talking to you!"

Beyond a certain distance, there were only still shadows and darkness, casting a sense of uncertainty and unease.

"Listen bitch!" The grip on her cheeks was bruising, his blunt nails dug into her skin, threatening to break it "Had I not have the strict orders, you would have been a sorry pulp by now, I'm hold'n back, so you better show me some respect."

He hissed against her face, his breath reeked of alcohol and smoke. If the feeling of his spit over her mouth was not disgusting enough, his hand moving from his cheek settling on her neck hit the nail. His fingers wrapped around her throat threateningly while the other hand groped her bosom.

"Get your hands off." She deadpanned.

He did take it off, only to slap her with force enough to make her head whip to the side and the corner of her lips bleed.

"Fuck the orders I am going to make sure that I fuck the shit out of you until that sorry cunt bleeds—-"

One kick on his stomach sent him staggering away before he fell to the ground, coughing in pain. But it gave her enough time to untangle the ropes and push the chair away.

She kicked again, making him wheeze in pain and breathlessness.

"And I am telling you to..." She began as she sat on him, pinning down his legs

"Fucking"

One punch right on his eye.

"To"

Another punch on his nose, earning a cry from him.

"Take. Your."

Another punch was enough to send two of his yellow teeth flying out.

"Fucking hands. Off!" She snarled.

With one last punch, he was out. His heart was still beating and her fist was numbing. Those were least of her worries.

With her attempts to calm her rushing adrenaline, she searched him for any clues or weapons.

Thankfully, he had a gun tucked behind him and a key.

The basement, or at least that was what it looked like, was oddly empty. An she refused to believe that Namjoon was foolish enough to underestimate her. He was playing a long game and he was fucking cunning enough to be sneaking right under her nose– pretending to be the best fucking lover while playing her.

With renewed vengeance, she rushed to find an exit– a windows might be better than a door—

And there it was, a single shut window shrouded by the shadows in the dimly-lit basement. After checking the gun, she held it tight and in position as she silently approached the window, moving within the darkness. Tentatively, she nudged-open the window.

Nothing.

It was an empty concrete two floors down but no sign of guards or anything. Could be a security system, she suspected. But whatever it was, she had to get out. A living officer was always better than a dead one.

The thin cotton did not obstruct her vision, she could see everything, slightly blurry, but she could see things.

And she saw the gun being fired.

(Y/N) supressed a hiss when her feet met the concrete, her knees wobbled and ultimately met the ground in the process.

Looking back, she realised that it was indeed an isolated building. But, why was it not guarded if she was kept there? How long was she there?

Questions plagued her mind as she sprinted away from the looming building. It was built on the fringes of a wood, and with the skyline gradually dimming, anyone could tell that it was dusk.

If the lack of people near the building was not ominous enough, it was the fact that she had no one chasing behind and no traps on her way to the main highway that truly made her rethink every other reasons or guesses she had come up with before she found herself there.

She needed to contact her teammates first, warn them, they ought to lay low for a good while. By the time she had reached a clearing, it was pitch dark. And while there were vehicles passing by, none of them cared to stop for a waving girl in the middle of a road.

That was until a vehicle did stop. Peeking in, she found a group of girls, cigarettes in hands and as soon as the car window slid down, a waft of alcohol and cigarettes greeted her. Had she been in uniform, they would have earned a ticket for drinking and driving, but she was desperate and only thankful that they helped her get back to the city.

----

"(Y/N)? We have been trying to contact you!"

Kyong was, thankfully on-duty during the night. He rushed to her as soon as she barged into the police station.

"I know a man of his. Might be someone of importance–cut that, he is important in this fucking nexus!"

"(Y/N)…what are you saying? Relax, breath, please."

"Y-yesterday, when we were reviewing the footage, I saw him. I know him!" Her voice cracked before she burst into dry coughs, the back of her neck aching with each jerks.

Kyong was immediately by her side,

"(Y/N), please slow down, here, sit. Have some water first okay?" He gently made her sit on the nearby bench before offering her some water.

All the strain, all the pain finally rang in her system. While she felt slightly breathless, each breath came with a dull ache that refused to be suppressed. After chugging down over half of the bottle, felt slightly better.

"(Y/N), we have been searching for you since two days."

(Y/N) stilled,

"What? But I—"

She stopped mid-way and frantically checked her clothes.

"Hey, hey hey, relax, okay, relax. Lets get you home, hmm?"

"Kyong, its important, I know one of the men who were present in that club last night."

That caught his attention.

"Why didn't you tell us that time?"

"I was at a fix...I needed confirmation."

"He was with that suspect, speaking about a delivery– most probably drugs." Kyong retorted.

"Namjoon, or that was the name he gave me. But he is– he's definitely involved."

"How do you know him?"

"He...He was my boyfriend. Now I know why he was my boyfriend." She gritted through the last word, feeling contempt burning within herself by even associating that word with the man.

"Why don't you stay a the safehouse for now, it's no longer safe for you out there then, we'll figure something out in the morning. Let me update the rest of the team, they're worried sick."

The safehouse was at the most innocuous location, fairly isolated, but not enough to catch any attention. Kyong had been kind enough to lend her the extra pair of clothes he had saved for his night shifts. He was a meticulous man, after all, and it showed when he made sure to check every nook and cranny of the safehouse and ensure that it was only two of them there.

"Everything you need is in the bathroom and pantry. Just don't step out, okay? And don't answer anyone other than me or the rest of the team. You look tired."

"I'm fucked up. Everything is." (Y/N) muttered, gulping down her tear.

Kyong stood in silence, before patting her back "Look, I don't know what course we take from here, but I know that we are a team, okay?"

(Y/N) could only nod.

—-

The night had the veil of calmness, but the frequently flashing sky gave a warning.

(Y/N) hated the rain. Despised storms.Especially stormy nights.

"Dad—"

"Listen, here, get in here."

Her father opened up a narrow passage and ushered her in, even for a six year old, it was a snug fit.

He shut the net opening before sliding hangers full of clothes over the place.

She could hear faint banging on the door, the rattling of the door knob, that only grey louder...

And louder...

And

BANG!

She woke up wheezing, only to realise that someone was indeed banging on the main door. Wiping the sweat on her forehead and neck, she realised that she had fallen asleep sitting.

"(Y/N), open up, it's me, Kyong." Kyong's muffled voice floated into the sunlit apartment.

Checking her phone, she realised that she had six missed calls from her colleague already.

"Coming!"

She rushed to open the door, only to find Kyong in his uniform still.

"Didn't you go home?"

"(Y/N), you need to come to the station. Now."

"But why? Did you find Namjoon?"

"Listen, I have informed Sir and the rest of the team, they will soon be in the station. We had found a video in our investigation, couldn't keep it from our superiors, you are summoned in the police station for interrogation."

"W-what? But why?"

"Long story, I will brief you on the way, I requested them that I take you there, they were sending someone else."

—---

"Is that you Officer (Y/N)?"

It was a CCTV footage of the same evening she escaped from that abandoned place, but the first-half was cut off, it was only her punching that sorry excuse of a man.

"Yes, he-he was the one keeping me there!" She pointed out.

The two officers, both her seniors straightened up and assessed her. (Y/N) knew that look, they did not believe her. But why?

"(Y/N), that used to be the local police station decades ago. And man you hit, is a retired officer who even won an award for excellency." One of the officers revealed.

They both were her seniors, superiors of Officer Byuk. They were sent from headquarters. She had no idea what deeply wrong had gone in those two days, but Kyong had briefed her.

Apparently there was a wide-search for her when she went missing, no trace. At the same time, there had been two more shipments of cocaine. Successfully. Also, some classified documents from her home were missing.

Namjoon...

Or at least that was his name.

He had been to her apartment so many times, had 'waited' for her to come home a few times. But even once slip of chance was enough, that sneak got too many of them. No wonder she was being interrogated.

"Sir this is not—"

"Officer Lee." Officer Byuk finally made it to the police station, followed by Dok and Han, who stood beside Kyong on the other side of the room.

"Officer Byuk, its nice to see you again." One of the officers– Lee greeted him with stiff smile and a short handshake. "This is officer Hyuk, we have been sent by the headquarters in order to interrogate Officer (L/N)."

"I see, good to meet you Officer." Officer Byuk nodded with a formal handshake with the other officer "I would like to see the proper documents."

"We have orders, from the headquarter Officer." Officer Lee asserted.

"Officer (L/N) trained under me, she is a part of my team. I have the right to know, please," Officer Byuk gestured towards his office.

After a couple of moments of tense silence, the two officers followed him reluctantly, leaving her with her colleagues.

"(Y/N), you alright? We had been so worried!" Dok and Han rushed to her as soon as the officers were out of sight.

"Yes, I'm good. I don't know how...I mean that man he spoke as if he hated the police and I–I had to escape."

"I don't understand..." Kyong spoke up as he neared them "How did they get the footage? The first half-gone. It's no coincidence."

"Some files, regarding the information of officers in charge of dockyards are missing. The copies were with me, and they're gone. Kyong. I fucked up." (Y/N) sighed, running her hand through her hair.

There was nothing but anger and despair. Had she not been so fucking stupid, she could have had Namjoon in the interrogation room instead.

"You're not stupid, we all have major fuck-ups." Dok was quick to comfort his colleague and friend.

"Yes, our superiors have probably had major fuck-ups, but what matters is to how we respond from now on. What has happened, has happened, cannot be undone anymore. But its a war now, team, we only lost the first battle." Kyong encouraged. "We need to alert the stations near docks, they need special security."

"So, what now?" (Y/N) asked the most obvious question.

"Depends, if Sir Byuk manages to convince them of your innocence, there might not be further—"

His words are cut short when the three officers return in the room.

"We have had discussions regarding your involvement in an retired officer's murder."

"Murder?"

She checked, he was breathing!

Officer Byuk shot her a warning glance before recollecting himself.

"We have the footage of you punching him." Officer Lee spoke up "But there are enough loopholes for us to reach a conclusion, like the missing first part of the footage."

"I have had a words with the headquarter and it has been decided..."

She kept her breathe while Officer Byuk spoke.

"That an official investigation would be carried out, until then Officer (L/N), you are not allowed to leave the country, or work here. You are relieved of your responsibilities until proven innocent."

She was innocent!

She wanted to scream out. But at the moment, she chose to do what she must.

Accept the situation with a graceful and stiff salute and bow before giving away her badges and card.

—-------

File after file laid on the floor as she rummaged through her house, all were in place. Except for the few mentioned missing, nothing seemed out of place. No bugs, no more missing files, no camera. Nothing.

Kyong and the rest of the team had assured her that they would prove her innocent and support her. But it was not their battle now, it was not about duty anymore. It was fucking personal.

She had no badge for the time being, no uniform, even the official gun needed to be submitted.

That was not much of a worry though, she had another licenced one. But this...Her job, her uniform meant the world to her and it were all at stake. She wished to be like her father. But everything in front of her was crumbling.

As she looked around in despair, she tried to think though, tried to put aside the cracks she was feeling and—

The doorbell rang.

(Y/N) walked up to the door in caution, making no disturbance as she checked the peep-hole before hurriedly opening the door.

"Sir?"

Officer Byuk walked in, his gaze flickered at the mess behind her before he fixed his stare on her.

"Are you hurt?"

"No Sir. I beat him up because he was the one I found waking up."

And he fucking touched me with his dirty hands.

Officer Byuk spoke up after a moment of silence

"Lets talk over coffee. You have coffee?"

"Yes, yes I have coffee."

She told him everything. How she met Namjoon, how she felt a bit off and how she found out about his involvement with RM.

"You are fool." Officer Byuk had no filter.

She had known him ever since she was a child. Almost at his retirement, the officer had been her father's close friend.

"And if you are already feeling miserable and want to give up then I am disappointed, I did not recruit a weakling."

"I'm sorry, Sir."

There was another stretch of silent as her observed her.

"You have been a fool once, don't be one again by not investigating things yourself. Start from the beginning." He passed her the ID that had been seized before.

"Its temporary, but it may help. I have the original one with me, don't worry."

"I just don't understand...why did he go for me, not some higher up, had that not been more beneficial?"

"We don't understand a lot of things. Like that retired officer's involvement with the underground. That just makes it clear that no once can be trusted. But since you are not serving anymore, at least officially, use this opportunity to get your hands on this Namjoon or whoever that was. He could be our key."

"I don't think its easy."

"Nothing is easy, start by proving yourself innocent. But don't sit here and wait for that snake to strike." he sipped his coffee "Am I clear?"

"Yes Sir!" She straightened.

"Don't disappoint me this time. And here, from now use this sim. Yours is no longer reliable."

He passed her a  sim card. He came prepared, because he still had faith on her. And she was grateful to him, to her team who were standing by her while everything was pointing against her.

She would not disappoint them again.

"I give you my word, Sir. No more stupidity."

"Good. Now get to work." he nodded before speaking again " And put more sugar in your coffee from now on. What a bitter taste!"

—---------

Well, she had decided to start from where it all began. First, she tried to have the CCTV footages recovered, only to find out that every six months, the footages are deleted. So she had no footage before six months. While she spent hours looking at each and every footage of her and Namjoon, there was not much to be noticed.

Then she questioned the barista regarding the man who visited the cafe with her often.

"Since how long had he been coming here?"

"Ma'am, quite a while, maybe...six months?"

"More than six months?"

"Could be, I am not sure."

"Has he visited this place this week?"

"No, I don't think so."

Namjoon had vanished from the face of earth. Or so it seemed. Every place she had been to, even the economics professor whose identity he stole, nobody seemed to have much of a clue.

He was smart, she would give him that.

"Yeah?"

"You found something?"

It was Dok on phone while she passed through the busy streets of the city.

"Guess, what, that old hag you punched in the video? We've found something that might help. He was under investigation when he was serving, in the nineties, but he came off clean. I have informed Byuk Sir, come to my home, we review the file, and see if we can find something to put shit on him."

"Great! I'll be on my way."

Finally, finally she had something! Well, at least hopefully.

She had half a mind to inform the rest of the team, but since there was no solid confirmation, she decided not to disturb them.

-----

Dok's apartment was around thirty minutes by bus, along the way, she picked up dinner for them. Her stomach grumbled at the delicious aroma wafting out though the packaging.

Pressing the doorbell, she waited with tapping foot for Dok to answer. She knocked when no one answered for the second time.

"Dok! I am starving already and the food is heavy." She yelled through the door, hoping that he would hurry up.

She rang his doorbell again before calling him this time. The faint sound of his phone ringing floated out, but there was no movement, not even the faint padding of feet or shuffle.

"Dok?" she knocked with urgency this time, growing concerned.

She head the faint slow shuffling. Relieved, she waited for him to open the door so that she could pour out an earful to his lazy—"

Click!

"Dok you—"

The door opened, and the terrified face of her friend greeted her.

"Dok? Dok?" He said nothing through his laboured breathing, falling on her immediately. She help him immediately.

"S-save—"

With a jerk of his body, his head fell back while she had only begun to register the blood all over and an open gash on his back.

"DOK! DOK?"

She realised that had been shot too late, he was not breathing anymore. The blood soaked through her sleeve while the food laid on the round.

"DOK! DO—" She saw a flash of the red dot before it disappeared and without a second thought, she rushed towards the open window

"OI! DON'T HIDE YOU VERMIN!"

With raged eyes and rushed movements, she searched through the line of buildings. But with unshed tears in her eyes and under the veil of the dark night, it was all futile.

—-----

Blue and red lights covered the area near the apartment building and yellow tapes filled the entrance of the apartment. (Y/N) stood numb by Officer Kyong, his overcoat covering her stiff form. Every sound seemed slightly off, every movement felt slow. But this time, he could not keep her tears in. They flowed free as she watched Dok's shrouded body being carried out of the place into an ambulance, the while shroud marred by slight patches of blood.

Han and Kyong held their heads high, not letting a single tear flow out under the weight of the uniform. She felt Officer Byuk's hand on her shoulder, trying to comfort her.

"Go home, child." His voice was heavy as he spoke, as if holding himself back.

She stood still, even after the ambulance left, her eyes remained fixed on the spot.

"He had some...He was telling me he found something." Her voice lacked emotion, and strength but that caught Kyong's ears.

"What do you mean?"

(Y/N) licked her lips, recalling the phone call "Dok...He was saying something about finding evidence that would proof my innocence."

Kyong's hands balled into fists.

He nodded, feeling a twinge of resentment bubbling in, but he squashed it immediately.

"This...Whoever..." He began lowly, "Probably has the evidence now."

(Y/N) stood in silence, eyes stilled on the road.

"(Y/N), tell us everything, don't keep anything from us. We already lost a teammate." Han was barely holding back.

"But for now, go home." Kyong advised.

She hummed absentmindedly. Sleep. She needed that.

—---

The rain pelted against the window, fogging it. While the city sky wept, (Y/N) laid on her back in her darkened room with dried tears. Her thumb pressed on the switch of the nightlamp by her bed, only to switch it off after a moment's stillness. It was a pattern that kept repeating, the ceiling lighting up simply, with vague shadows, before plunging into darkness once more.

All she saw was Dok's pained and terrified face in front of her, even with her eyes open. And once she closed them, all she saw was the dreaded night when...

"Dok you—"

The door opened, and the terrified face of her friend greeted her.

"Dok? Dok?" He said nothing through his laboured breathing, falling on her immediately. She helped him immediately.

"Th-thirty four..." he whispered into her ear "Thirty—Ah!...S-save—"

His head jerked back.

She had told the police each and every detail she could remember in her state. But something in her refrained her from revealing this little information. An officer ins trained to distinguish their intuition from any other form of panic and emotion, and rely on that intuition. It was the same intuition that pointed Namjoon out, and it she had been a fool to dismiss initially. She did not want to repeat the past mistakes.

The constant buzzing of her phone snapped her awake. She had not even realised she had dozed off.

With bleary eyes, she picked up the call in a daze.

"Hllw?" She slurred.

But there was no one greeting back. But there was something—

Breathing.

(Y/N) stilled, now alert as she waited with bated breath.

"Hello?" She tested.

The breathing quivered for a moment before slowing down to normalcy again. But there was no verbal reply. But this time, (Y/N) waited.

"Oh Little bird..."

The audacity.

Her hands balled into fists as she sat up straight, in a smooth, steady motion.

"I wish things would not have had to be so hard...But you—"

"Why?" She asked lowly through gritted teeth.

"I was dying to hear this voice" he sighed lightly and paused for a moment "It's business baby, nothing personal. I just hoped that it would not have to be you. The police tries to meddle with our business, we fuck it up royally. But I have an offer for you, little bird..."

She remained silent. She could almost feel his smirk.

"Come to me, lets forget the past. We can be the same again, but this time you have no officers barking orders at you."

"Why this kindness?"

She could hear his shuddering breath again.

"Oh, Darling, you would not believe me if tell you now...But I feel bad for that officer. That made you upset..."

All she could think of was Dok's face and the number he had whispered into her ear.

"You..."

He took a light but sharp intake when she began.

"...Fucked with the wrong person."

With that, she cut the call.

This was not about her duty or the police department anymore. This was personal now.

—-----

"Did you find any device in the apartment?"

(Y/N) was currently at Kyong's place, both of them sitting in the living room with coffee.

"Devices, like what?"

"Dok had called me to inform that he had found something that would proof my innocence. And Just before I can reach him, he...he is murdered."

"So you are saying that he was being spied upon?"

"I have no other explanation right now. If I were the target, why was unharmed? They are trying to pick us out, one by one, they know us, they know the team."

Kyong hummed.

"What if Dok was not the only one being spied upon? The rest us are probably on their hit-list. But I don't understand...You came out unharmed."

"It was a set up. They framed me for murder of a retired officer, they made sure to kill Dok in front of me. Its psychological game they're playing."

"In every way, you were the one present there so the suspicion would point at you."

Her mind went back to the call. What was the purpose of it?

What did he want? What did his boss want?

"Keep an eye out for danger, alert your family and friends as well, better to put some officers for their safety. We need the help of the intelligence department Kyong, this is not a police-thief hide and seek. It's a war."

-

The road was isolated, but as much as she remembered, it was the same road she escaped through. It was dark again, and she knew that it was expected of her to return to that place. But she had no option, her Kyong and Han had no other option. Under the night sky, everything seemed off.

"Lets park our car here, if we take it into the woods, people might be alerted if they are there." (Y/N) suggested.

As soon as they were out of the vehicle parked safely out of sight, they mingled into the woods. Dead leaves crunched under their shoes as (Y/N) led them further in.

"Are you sure that this is the place?" Kyong asked as they ventured deeper into the woods.

"As much as I remember, yes?"

"Remember? (Y/N), do you realise that one of our teammates is dead and we have guns over our heads, and if we don't find them first, we will be dead!"

Kyong was frustrated, and no matter how much he wanted to keep those thoughts away, they were bleeding through his subconscious.

Clouds of breaths escaped (Y/N)'s lips at that. She understood him, she understood his fears and where he was coming from. But she also knew that there was no other way but to tread in the darkness until they find an anchor, a clue– something, anything.

"I know how this feels—"

"No, you don't. Dok is dead (Y/N)."

"I know he is and it kills me!"

"Okay, you both– we are going to alert people if we keep raising our voice at each other. Dok is no more and they have hit us right where it hurts. There is nothing that can be done until and unless we find this...RM. Whoever it is, they had Dok killed, they had (Y/N) kidnapped and they are waiting to pounce again."

Han's words had both of them looking away. Kyong pushed his hair back– he had never felt helpless and frustrated to this extent.

"Let's...let's keep going, the place is here somewhere."

With that, she resumed walking ahead.

(Y/N) recognised the silhouette of the building from a distance. She signalled the rest of her teammates before the three split up. Taking cover of the darkness and the trees, they stalked closer to the building. It stood with an innocuous appearance, but (Y/N) knew better.

She signalled Han to follow her before swiftly and stealthily making her way towards the building walls. Attaching herself with one of the walls, she watched as Han moved to the opposite walls. After the entrance was surrounded, Kyong moved straight to the entrance of the building.

Both (Y/N) and Han peeked out as Kyong inspected the entrance before giving them clearance and entering, they followed, all of their guns intact and pointed in front of them.

"Number three, anything important? Over."

(Y/N) asked through her headphone as she searched the upper level of the building, kicking open empty doors, expecting to find something but there was—

"No, all three rooms all clear." Han replied.

Her eyes narrowed as she focused her flashlight over a dusty desk. Everything in the place was covered with dust and cobwebs except the half-burnt cigarette. Her gloved hand picked it before sniffing.

Realisation struck her as she shoved the cigarette into her pocket before rushing out of the room.

"Number three, number two, danger incoming 10-0, copy that!" Her eye scanned the area for people before she found gliding through the walls. On the ground floor. She duked in immediately but continued to move.

"Number six, message received."

"I see them moving, take cover!"

She descended with stealth to the ground floor, following the men. Watching them closely, she loaded her gun in silence. Deciding the wall was a good enough cover, she switched to Kyong once more.

"Shoot!"

And with that, bullets surrounded those criminals from both their sides, catching them off guard. They did not intend to kill all of them. She heard some glass shattering from upstairs.

Four out of the five men were down, the other had taken cover behind a wall.

A bullet shattered the glass behind her. She was exposed to the people above.

With no choice, she backed away into a safer cover. while the other man made a run for it

Left with no other choice, (Y/N) chased him into the woods. She faintly heard Kyong's warning call for her but that did not matter. Nothing matters but to take back that man alive. It was a trap and he would be the one proving it. This chase could be a trap as well. But worth the risk.

The bushes, leaves and brushed past her in a swift blurs of sounds and sensations as she chased him. All she could think of was Namjoon's deceptive smile and Dok's dying face.

He was a quick runner and a dodger. The rock he hurled at her came flying towards her, she was quick enough to save her head but it hit her shoulder. And did it hurt bad.

(Y/N) gasped and stumbled due to the jolting pain.

It was just moment before adrenaline pushed her to resume the chase. He took a sharp turn and she almost stumbled before following him.

It was muddy slope with a bubbling creep a few feet deep when she finally grabbed him by his shoulder.

He elbowed her injured shoulder kicked on her stomach, sending her doubling over. This was enough for her grasp to loosen, giving him an opportunity to escape.

He had made it to the creek, his legs ran fast to cross the creek, stumbling a little before—

"ARGH!"

He cried out as the clear water of the creek darkened with crimson. He clutched the side of his knee, but could not stop the blood from gushing out.

His hand reached out for the gun tucked behind him but a heavy boot pressed down on his hand, making him cry out.

"I have him. Over."

(Y/N) informed her teammates, slightly breathless, but keeping her boot pressed on his hand.

---

"There was no need to tie a cloth over the wound, won't say a fucking word!" Han was growing frustrated.

The tied man only grinned through his bloodied teeth. It was quickly becoming clear that it was not his first time being interrogated.

"I'm being nice for the last time— who do you work for?" (Y/N) spoke through gritted teeth.

Her shoulder and throbbed and felt slightly heavy, but the tied up man was the potential key to prove her innocence and to get her hands on Namjoon.

No, her main target was RM, Namjoon could be dealt with later.

She shook his thoughts out of her mind and straightened up.

"And if I don't?" He asked, breathless from the pain. "You can't even arrest me." He cackled at their face

"Listen you little shit—"

Kyong was about to pounce on him but (Y/N) stopped him.

"Kyong, we need to handle this carefully if the department comes to know—"

"So what?! What more can happen? Dok is fucking dead already and they were here to kill us too."

"And that is exactly why we must be calm!" (Y/N) asserted, but Kyong only scoffed and looked away with disdain.

"(Y/N), they knew we were here. They were fucking waiting, that's why you found the bloody cigarette! We are risking our lives just to prove YOU innocent!"

"Kyong! Stop it, we are a team." Han interjected.

"Han, Dok is fucking dead trying to prove her innocent." He shoved a finger at her"  Important files are missing from her home because she blindly trusted a fucking criminal! Why didn't you cross-check his identity first? Are you that incapable? So fucking blind? It cost US! The WHOLE FUCKING DEPARTMENT! Byuk Sir is under fire because of her sloppiness!."

"Kyong—" Han tried to intervene.

"No what the hell are we doing? She almost led us to our doom!"

"Kyong stop it!"

"WHY SHOULD WE? Does she even realise what her love affair has cost us?" Kyong screamed his anguish out on her.

(Y/N) stood still. His words hit her, but she would not show it. She had lost enough for showing her vulnerability to people.

"I know how difficult the situation is."

She began, calm and reserved.

"And I promise you both–"

"What are you? Five? We don't want fucking promises (Y/N), we need results." Kyong spat

(Y/N) sucked her cheeks, maintaining her cool.

"I promise you both...if anything goes wrong, it will be only me who gets under fire. I take all the responsibility. But now, we must work together. This is exactly what they want, for us to lose faith in ourselves." She whispered to Kyong, quiet but assertive.

Kyong's gaze locked with hers in a hard, long stare before he looked away.

"I need a smoke. Get him to talk."

With that, he left the room.

(Y/N) and Han turned to the man sitting against the wall. Amusement dancing in his eyes.

"Pathetic, aren't ya'll?"

"You really are asking for broken bones, huh?" Han gritted out.

"You think a brushed bullet can get me to speak? Years ago, another officer tried to be all macho and righteous." He chuckled and sniffle "Shot dead in his home...So think again fools."

Han kicked him on his stomach, making him double over and cough out saliva, but he sniggered.

Han was about to kick him again when (Y/N) chuckled out, shaking her had. Her eyes were a cold but sure warning as she licked her lips. The previously amused grin vanished from the man's face at the sight of her sharp smile with a shaking head.

"You have, never been properly interrogated before."

She whispered out, stalking towards the now alert male while her colleague stepped away.(Y/N)'s hands rested in her pockets, painting the most deceptively casual picture. But as she sat to his level, looking at his eyes, the man stiffened.

Wordlessly, she took his right hand, unbothered by his violent struggles as she held his forefinger, before her other hand brought a needle and pushed the pointed end right under his fingernail, earning a blood-curling scream from the man.

Kyong rushed in, but only watched from the doorway as the man writhed and shook under her unrelenting hold and cold gaze. He wheezed when she took the bloodied pin out, only to thrust it again with greater force, making the man wail out. She moved her leg and pressed against his wounded knee as he gasped and shook, crying out for mercy.

"Who sent you?"

"We—W-we got orders—right–high–higher up–higher up–aaagh!!"

He gasped out.

"Who do you work for?"

"H–Henchin–Lee Henchin—"

"He is only the drug peddler. Who is he working for?"

She took out the pin before moving to his next finger, thrusting the pin underneath the fresh fingernail, he cried out again.

"I don't k–Knowww eeeaAAa!" He wailed

"I am going to put this pin right through you eardrum if I hear this bullshit again."

She sounded like she was explaining a life lesson.

"I really—I r–really don't know!" He wheezed out, gasping as she twisted the needle, raising an eyebrow.

"Okay...Who are his biggest suppliers?"

"H–H–be–we–we collect from hyve–hah"

"What was that?" She leaned in closer

"Hybe...we collect from there—aah!"

She finally let go of his hand and wiped the needle off his blood.

-----

"Lee Henchin? We have no evidence against him, he runs two very exclusive clubs and has a restaurant under his name, but he is a big name (Y/N), I can't just allow that."

"But Sir that man did take Lee Henchin's name, we even recorded his confession—"

"By using violence? You know that it would not work. Besides, Henchin's a big name, we have some clue of his association with prominent yakuzas. I am not letting you three meddle into that."

"But Sir, this is our golden chance. He is going to bring us closer to this RM." (Y/N) almost could not believe what she was hearing, but after Dok's death, she knew where Officer Byuk was coming from.

"No (Y/N), you think we have not tried to get to that little rat? We lost two men, not even their families were spared. You have no idea how deep these roots run."

"Three, Sir. We lost three officers in the span of seventeen years."

Officer Byuk looked at her, surprised.

"And so we need to pull these roots out once and for all."

She added.

"You think its easy?"

(Y/N) looked away, having no answer to that. She went straight to Officer Byuk's residence after the 'interrogation'. It was deemed dangerous for the three to travel together to an officer's house.

"Sir...Dok is dead, our teammate is dead and we know who did this."

"And you three will be too if you go after him. We originally started this mission to know about RM's connections, we found that. And we stop here, this would be passed to the higher ups."

"And it will stay there on some unknown desk collecting dust. We know that too Sir."

Officer locked her gaze with a stern stare.

"I am not ready to lose more of my able officers. There is already an investigation going over you, focus on finding evidence against that officer's connection with the underworld."

"But that is connected to this! Henchin might be out key to prove my innocence."

"That would not help as much as you like to think. None of you are going to go after Lee Henchin. Am I understood?"

(Y/N) stared back, frustrated, angry, but silent.

"Yes, Sir."

-----

"Why did we just leave out phones in our cars?" Kyong was visibly annoyed, but had complied to (Y/N)'s demand.

"Because, I think our phones are being tapped."

(Y/N) replied before sipping her tea. She missed a good cup of that. When she...was with Namjoon, she had introduced coffee to her regular diet. Not replacing her tea, but reducing the consumption.

That man had crawled into her mind.

"Well, how did they know that Dok had some important evidence? And when we went to the same spot I woke up in?"

"So you called us here for this?" Kyong had been cold ever since their fight, and while (Y/N) had tried to be understanding, his behaviour was getting on her nerves.

"I am not found of wasting people's time, Kyong. I called you all to tell you that Officer Byuk will not allow us to go after Henchin."

"WHAT?"

"Why?"

"Guys, keep it low." She hissed, avoiding all the glances and turned heads in the cafe.

"But—but we have his name...Henchin can be a key to prove your innocence as well (Y/N)."

"I know Han. But Henchin, has a record. Most of the cases against him and his pubs are either inconclusive, cold or abruptly closed. There were officers who went behind him, they are all dead. Byuk Sir just does not want to risk our lives."

"But, we are fucking close." Kyong hissed

"We already are taking on this mission without any supervision from the higher ups. He says that he would be sending the details to the intelligence."

"So Dok's death means nothing to them?"

Kyong was understandably upset

"I don't know about them. But we care." (Y/N) reassured.

"But Sir just dismissed any further action."

(Y/N) hummed at Han's words before picking up her filled cup and taking another sip.

She looked at the two, their eyes held question, but also resilience.

"Sometimes...duty comes first, obedience to authority, second."

There were three officers dead in the span of twenty and four years. One, five years ago, second, twelve years ago. And third...seventeen years ago.

Seventeen years ago when she was a six year old child, and she witnessed her father's death.

Because he was the first office to go behind Lee Henchin.

"We will go. Lets start planning."

-----

"Are you sure he would be present in this club tonight?"

After tracking him for a week, they finally had his schedule. Thanks to the informants.

"I'm 99% sure." Kyong replied.

"What do you mean by 99%?" Han was visibly tense.

"Relax, we can never be 100% sure of anything here, can we?" (Y/N) assured him, eyeing the area with a mask of normalcy.

The tree of them came here as any other guest looking to rewind a bit. It was easy to acquire false names and use false information. The club was booming with life, a Friday night in all its glory— messy, lewd, merry, drunk and dancing– everything all at once.

"The VIP and VVIP section is on the first floor, the second floor is off limits, the basement harbours the storeroom an kitchen. Keep eyes on all those heading up. And keep in touch. I will go mingle into the crown from the front, you both choose either corners."

(Y/N) decided, the two nodded before the three separated, moving to their chosen directions. With her mask on and eyes done, (Y/N) made sure to take on a disguise. Her eyes wandered away as she danced her way to the centre, among the crowd of swaying, jumping bodies and flashing lights, all she could see were people who either wanted to burn, or escape, or perhaps both.

Calmly, she ran her eyes over the place, brushing away intruding strangers and drunk office workers. It was a glamorous place, it was a sorry place, it was a safe place for 'deals'.

"Attention, suspect spotted, going up, follow. Over." Han's voice cut through the thrumming music.

"Received, following."

The first floor was quieter, but not untouched by the loud music below. Kyong motioned them to to stay on the darker portions, avoiding cameras. One of their informants worked as a bouncer there. Had it not been for him, they would have no weapons to defend themselves.

The three followed as the three men, surrounded by two bodyguards ascended further. Second floor.

Kyong motioned towards the bathroom before walking in.

If the second floor was off limits, the stair would be the worst way to take. So they had to climb through the bathroom window into the store room of the second floor. Kyong opened the window and entered quietly, only after he was sure everything was clear, signalled for the two to follow. The room was dark, but clear of any threat for now. The informant needed to be rewarded heavily. With practiced stealth, the three made their way out, staying close to the wall, waiting.

A guard entered the seemingly empty hallway, only to be pulled by the neck into another sharp corner, the back of a gun came down heavily on his head, knocking him out immediately.

Han motioned his teammates with a positive sign as the unconscious guards slid down the wall. Dragging his body into an empty room, he took hold of the card required to unlock rooms. They were playing with fire. But it was an absolute necessity.

As they passed through the seemingly empty hallway, in search of those—

"Team."

Kyong and Han turned to (Y/N) who stood a few feet behind, eyeing a certain door.

"What is it?"

"I think this is the room."

"How do you know?" Kyong eyed the room.

"Yes, we can't be sure." Han added.

"You are right. Do one thing, you two go ahead, I will check this room."

"(Y/N), are you out of your fucking mind?" Kyong hissed "We can't just—"

"I will keep you updated."

She assured them, leaning in to check. So far, silence. Slowly, she pushed the door open to peek in.

Empty.

"Go. We have limited time."

She urged before they could speak up.

Glancing at the room number once last time, she slid in with caution.

Room number 34.

Had it been a pitch black room, she would not have take much of a risk. But the room was unlocked and dimly-lit. An indication that someone was about to come in, or had recently exited. Using the closet to hide, she slid behind the hanging towels and some washed curtains. The gaps in the door design allowed her unobstructed view of the room.

"In the room, watching. Clear for now. Copy that."

She informed her colleagues through the interconnected earbud before checking the number of spare bullets hidden in her shoes.

Now all was left was to wait. Patience would bear fruits. Or something like that along the lines.

She waited patiently for over an hour–still and quiet until the door the the room finally opened. And the room was illuminated further. Leaning away more into the darkness of the closet, her ears perked up at the sound of footsteps.

And finally, the person was right in her viewing range.

"Any updates?"

Kyong's voice rang in her ear. But she did not reply, she could not.

"Number six. Any update?" This time, it was Han.

"Number two and three...take shelter. Over."

She whispered to the earbud, while her eyes watched the man in front of her.

Officer Byuk.

He made himself comfortable over a cushioned chair by the window in the room after taking out a bottle from the mini fridge in the room. But he took out two glasses and did not uncork the bottle.

She waited in the closet another hour with anticipation before she heard a knock. Byuk instantly rose up and went to answer the door.

"Hello Officer Byuk."

The voice had her tightening her grip on her gun. Ready to shoot.

"Finally, come in please."

She waited with bated breath before the second man came into her viewing range, right in front of her.

"It's a pleasure to see you again Officer."

Namjoon's voice was deeper than she remembered, a gravelly edge that somehow made him sound exactly like the cold-blooded criminal that he was.

"Lee said he's on his way. He will join us shortly." Byuk spoke up, motioning towards the set table.

"Let's wait for Lee." Namjoon offered.

"No alcohol for him today, he's on antibiotics he said." Byuk replied, finally uncorking the bottle and filling the glasses.

"Any new updates?"

"The officers were close. But now that the threat is diffused, I think Lee needs to lay low for a while, some of the officers might not let this go." Byuk replied, sipping on his drink.

Namjoon only hummed.

He lookers slightly different than a month—

One and a half month. It had been almost one and a half month since she had last seen him. All she remembered how lively, kind and gentle he looked. But the man she was looking at now had a sinister edge to him. He always had that, he simply hid that well. He was no longer sporting hair she had last seen him with. It was cut short, somehow enhancing the sense of danger that shadowed his presence.

Her eyes moved from him to Byuk– Uncle Byuk– the man she trusted the most in the world. The one man she had put her blind trust on. She exhaled slowly, trying to keep her bubbling rage at bay as she began to connect the dots.

"Number two and three."

There was no response.

"Number two and three?" She hissed, turning tense with each passing moment.

She loaded her gun noiselessly. Something had gone wrong.

Byuk's phone rang.

"Please excuse me." With that, he picked up the phone and listened. "Shit!" he hissed, cutting the call. "I think I need to get out of here, there are two officers in disguise in this building, I will order them to shoot them at sight."

"Don't kill them now." Namjoon spoke up before rising from his chair, Byuk followed "And there are not two officers, but three."

With that Namjoon marched up to the closet and swung the door open, making her gasp. Before she could injure him, he grabbed her wrist and dropped the gun to his hold.

"Tch, that's dangerous little bird."

The nickname made her sick.

"Think of your friends before you do something."

He whispered coldly while dodging her attacks. Byuk stood there, pale as soon as (Y/N)'s gaze found his while she struggled in Namjoon's hold.

"Easy, Little Bird, we just met, what's the hurry?"

This little shit!

"She will kill us Sir, finish her!"

Byuk's words were the final nail on the coffin. She wanted the write the ending, but perhaps fate had other plans. She could only pray that Kyong and Han get away safely.

"Mind your words, Byuk."

Namjoon's voice dipped lower and Byuk visibly gulped.

"Bu–but she knows now."

At that, Namjoon looked down at her. Finding her eyes still on that imbecile, he gripped her cheeks and compelled her to look at him.

"But she won't let anything happen to her friends, would she? Lee's men already have them. And all they need is a nod from me."

She hated being close to him, and she hated herself even more for realising that she missed him, she missed his proximity, his touch, his eyes, his smile, she missed his voice. She missed him.

His thumb rubbed her cheek with a softness she had yearned for one and a half month. And at that moment, she wished that he were a different man, she wished she never met him, she wished that she never fell in love with him.

"What do you say Little Bird?"

His hold on her was firm– there was no use of struggling anyway, one phone call and Kyong and Han would meet Dok's fate.

He leaned closer, his fingers on her cheeks effectively preventing her to move away. It was an ambiguous feeling when she felt him inhaled a long, sharp breath before breathing into her. Their breath mixing was like a reaction set to scatter the world around.

"My offer still stands, Little Bird. But of course, the choice is yours."

His voice was milk and honey, a mocking smirk on her predicament.

"Sir, we have the two officers." A new voice emerged from the entrance and he finally let go.

She turned to look at the man she had only seen pictures of. But his presence filled her with a sense of disgust she never knew she possessed.

Lee Henchin was an aged up man now, but the wicked shadow he possessed overpowered the room. He glanced her her with a curious tilt of his head

"This one could do for the VVIP clients. One of the girls escaped, we need a replacement anyway for tomorrow."

She felt cold, but the sheer amount of hatred in her urged her to break his face. Maybe take out his teeth– one at a time.

"The Lady is not for sale, Lee." She shivered when Namjoon growled from behind, pulling her closer to him.

And as she watched Lee Henchin's previously confident stan falter subtly, she understood who pulled the shots in the room.

"You can do whatever you want with the rest of them though." Namjoon added.

She tensed at that, and he felt it too, she knew that when he asked her

"Isn't that right, little bird?"

The silence was only a beat long, but it held oceans within.

"Offer accepted." She muttered out begrudgingly.

"What was that honey?" He rose an eyebrow, barely containing his smirk.

She would have slapped that smirk away had it not been Han and Kyong's life at stake.

"I accept your offer. But you will let them go safe, in one piece. And they will never be bothered again."

She looked up to meet his eyes– the deep brooding eyes that reminded her of unwritten poetry and hidden classics read on rainy days were now swirls of storms themselves– all the harsh murky days, the hovering, ominous clouds, the sharp, sudden thunderbolts and the deep rumble that followed.

"Lee, tell your men to release the two. Throw them out of the club."

"Uh–I did not know that she was—"

"Officer Byuk!" His voice rose, cutting Henchin off "Make sure the two never reach here, or me sniffing."

"As you wish, Sir."

He took a completely different way out to reach his car. His hand though gripped hers. Outside stood an imposing car in the middle of two others. Like a gentleman, he opened the door for her, keeping a close eye as she settled into the farthest corner.

But he was least bothered by that. He finally had her in his grapes, and that was all that mattered.

"I'm sorry Little Bird but I can't quite trust you so soon." He urged her to give her hands, keeping his voice gentle.

She should know that he meant no harm. He was not the villain, the world was. She narrowed her eyes at him.

(Y/N) knew that she had no choice, not at the moment at least. It was narrow path and the only way was the way ahead. If she was going to die...Well she did not know anymore. Namjoon's behaviour was odd so far, it kept her guessing.

Swallowing the bitter pill, she placed her hands on his tentatively, only for him to lock them behind her. The coldness came engulfed her wrists soon after.

What a fucking irony.

The cop being handcuffed.

She ground her teeth to keep herself from reacting the way she truly wanted.

"What—"

Just as she thought that it was over, a black cloth over hear eyes rendered her blind, making her jump, ready to spring into action. But Namjoon's hold on her tightened.

"Shhh, take it as safety measures, Jagi, nothing else."

He cooed at, tying over the blindfold.

"It's' not necessary, I can't go back anyway." (Y/N) felt the simmers of panic in her belly.

"I know Jagi. But I don't take chances with capable people."

It felt simultaneously like a warning and compliment. Perhaps it was. He knew her capacity, and he was not taking any chances. With a defeated sigh, she leaned on the expensive leather of the car, feeling the engine rumbling into life before the slightest jerk indicted that the car was now in motion.

----

The villa was settled near an isolated road that harboured a stretch of moor on the other side, beyond which laid a highway cutting through a small woodland. And the housekeeper made excellent tea.

There were five of them— those visible at least– her, Namjoon, the housekeeper, a maid and a cook.

A month in the place, (Y/N) at least knew that Namjoon held a high position—Namjoon was his real name after all and it was a stupid as well as smartest move to pull, given that he was, at least very close to the highest and he had spied on her and the department for a long period of time. No one would assume that he used hi real name, criminals never used their real names. She was, though yet to decipher how many of them were hiding in the woods.

"More tea, Madame?" The housekeeper who has been adamant to not tell her his real name, offered to refill her empty cup.

"Thank you, Pep."

(Y/N) nodded to him, smiling faintly as he refilled her cup for the second time.

"No more mooncakes, Pep, I want my tea just as it is."

"Sure." He put away the mooncakes, while she sipped on the tea, watching the wind sweep through the moor in orchid waves.

She kept her eyes on the scene outside, while her ears strained to hear Namjoon on the phone. But he was inside the house and the walls were soundproof.

It had only been a month but to her, it felt like a decade since she had gone to work. Everyday, before her eyes would battle against sleep, all she could think of was Uncle Byuks' betrayal and Lee Henchin.

Lee Henchin...

"I am so sorry, Jagi. My absence sometimes hurts the business."

Namjoon walked up to her with his pretentious apology.

"Why bother to stay back then? Your blood money flow is affected."

He only smiled at her words before turning to the housekeeper. Taking the clue, Pep walked away, leaving the two alone.

"Nothing, (Y/N), is more important than you."

"I don't understand this game..."

And really, she did not. She had no more information to give him. Officer Byuk knew more than her. Had more access. Then why was he even interested in her?

"I did come close to you with the intention to be closer to the ground and have some files." Namjoon confessed, looking away to the moors while he sipped his coffee.

"But even if you don't believe me, Little Bird, I fell, and I fell hard and stupid in love with you." He eyed her for moment before his gaze dropped on his share of mooncakes.

He loved everything sweet, she had learnt.

"Even if you don't believe me, I do not blame you. We have a lifetime to ourselves."

" That's very confident for man who has a boss to answer. What would RM think when they come to know that you an officer?"

Namjoon leaned back, not even a flicker of doubt passing on his face.

"I don't answer, Little Bird."

She frowned and put her cup down.

"Why?"

He smiled indulgently at her, but to her, it felt condescending.

"I don't answer to anyone, Love. People answer to me...I am RM."

She felt cold and parched all over.

—-----

Kyong bit into his apple while his eyes remained on the screen in front of him. No, he refused to believe that (Y/N) was dead, as 'evidence' had shown. He would not have believed that Dok was dead had he not seen his body himself. But (Y/N)...He had not seen her body. It was only her gun–bloodied gun. But again, there was no confirmation whose blood was that.

That was a work too lousy to be professional. It was a cover up, and a poor cover up if he may add.

And he won't be at rest until he finds out where (Y/N) was bring her back.

—--

"I'm dead?"

(Y/N) whispered in disbelief as she watched the tv screen. It was a follow up news. And she, like those cold cases piled up inside shelves, was herself reduced to one of them— a cold case that may fascinate many, but not bother any.

"Who put backs news channels here?" RM hissed at Pep who stuttered in his presence.

"I fixed a monthly plan, they must have added—"

"Take that down. Now."

Her name and face was long gone from the screen. Like a flipped page, it was another day, another news, another race for TRP.

But her cheeks trembled.

She was dead to the world, her traces, her existence was wiped out. Even if she were really dead, there was no family to grieve for her. The only person closest to be called a family was the one to give her one final blow.

"Hey, hey, its just to make sure that no one comes after you, yeah? And we can start afresh."

Namjoon's face shielded the screen as he cupped her cheeks, eyes searching–trying to read her, reassure her. Make her feel the safety she never would. Switching the television off, he focused on her again.

"Don't think too much about that, okay? Why don't we..." looking around, he whirred his brain before his eyes landed on a golden wrapper "Why don't we make chocolate together? Hmm? You love baking right? We can bake later."

As if that would help. She was spiralling and she was spiralling fast.

She let him lead her to the kitchen while Pep hurriedly helped to set the ingredients. But her mind was running far away. Was there, really no choice? No hope for freedom?

—---

"It's cold, wear a coat."

Were Namjoon's first words as soon as he was back from his home office and into the bedroom.

"But, we are alright inside?"

(Y/N) was confused. Anybody could tell that it was cold by the blanket of snow covering the moor, some browns still peeking out, but over all, it all stretched white.

"We are going out for a walk." Namjoon smiled at her. The surprise must have been apparent as she put away the book she was reading and sat up straighter.

"Like, now?" Her eye widened in surprise.

He nodded, watching her closely, but there was a softness that did remind her of their older days, but it held something different, something more. She was, finally having the chance to step out of the place after two whole months, and there was no way that she would let this opportunity go. But there was a part of her that seeped in disbelief and suspicion.

Why would he risk it so soon? There had been no indication of him beginning to trust her. Then why?

"I know that the news of...your death charade was a bit too much. But I did what I thought was an absolute necessity. But I cannot bear to see you sad, Little Bird." He walked closer, sitting on his knees to meet her eyes.

He waited for a verbal response, but there came none. She only nodded.

The sound of snow crunching had something satisfactory in it. And as they walked through the snow. Namjoon pulled up the warm scarf.

"Its cold, Jagi, be careful."

(Y/N) nodded and fixed the scarf over her nose as they walked through the snow-covered moor, towards the white woods. His hold remained firm over her other hand though. Fingers intertwining, slithered between the gaps like he had slithered in her life.

Namjoon could not help but look at her with fondness. Even though there was no trace of a complete smile, there was a ghost of it somewhere— a spark in her eyes that had been somewhat dimmed in the past month. Namjoon hated that. He knew that he had hurt her and things had been going hard enough as it was. But, the news headlines about her (faked) death might have been the final hit. She was crumbling, and Namjoon hated that. She had suffered enough. He could always deal with Henchin and Byuk later. But she was his priority.

He kept a close eye on her, while his hand squeezed her gloved ones every now and then as they walked closer to the woods.

"Its a pretty sight."

"You like it?"

Of course she did, the way her eyes took in every detail, it was clear as day that she loved the winter wonderland the small woods would turn into.

"We can..." He weighed his options "We can come here everyday if you like?"

Without another word, she kept walking, her eyes fixed on the ground as they passed through the trees.

"What are you looking at?"

"Huh? Sorry just—what did you say?"

Namjoon observed her a moment before looking away, "Lets go back."

"So soon?"

"Hmm, I don't want you catching cold."

Tugging her to take a turn, he strode back to the villa. His grip, even through the gloves felt tight. Once back, he ordered Pep to prepare tea for them before marching back to the room.

"Is that what you have planned for me? To be your prisoner?"

Even after two months, nothing changed, and her patience was waning."

Namjoon looked up from his tea, eyes gleaming before he put the cup down and sat up straighter.

"You are no prisoner little bird, don't call yourself that. Did you not hear my offer?"

"I accepted your offer. I am here with you, on your whim, in return of my friends' lives."

"No, that's not it. I told you, come with me, you will have more power than a miserable uniform can ever give you. And by now, I assume you know that the silly ideals you were holding onto, hold no place there."

She stared back at him defiantly as she slowly sipped her tea.

"These 'silly ideals took us to Henchin'. We had him that night..."

"Until I appeared."

"Until you appeared."

"And he still lives."

"He is useful to me (Y/N)."

He killed my father.

He killed my father.

He fucking. Killed. My. Father.

In silence, she sipped her tea.

—------

"Why didn't you accept the invitation, it has been a while since we've gone out drinking?"

Han walked along with Kyong, who strode to rush out of the police station as soon as he could.

"I'm not in the mood Han?"

"You said the same last week."

Kyong finally stopped "Because I was not in the mood to go drinking last week too." he sighed out, annoyed.

"Okay, how about this Sunday? You and me?"

"Han, I'm busy this Sunday."

"You dating, man?"

Kyong sighed at the question

"No–I am—Listen Han—"

"No because there is something bothering you. Look, Kyong, I know that losing both of our friends like that is and has been hard so far. It has been three months since (Y/N)'s..." He eyed Kyong cautiously, who only threw him a withering glare before looking away "(Y/N)'s demise."

"Han...Let's not talk about that."

"This is exactly what we need to talk about— first Dok and now (Y/N). I feel guilty too. She sacrificed herself. Lee was going to kill us but—"

"I fought with her, okay? I doubted her, she was the one in trouble and instead of being understanding, I blamed her for Dok's death! That–" he pointed his finger down, moving it with force "— is guilt!"

"Kyong...You can't let this consume you forever, can you?"

Kyong did not reply. (Y/N) was alive. And he was going to bring her back, even from the depths of hell if it were to be.

—-----

The gentle snowfall had now turned to occasional blizzards that left a good few feet of snow for days. It was no surprise to her that their daily walks were suspended. But it did come as a surprise when she woke up one a gloomy morning, only to see Namjoon all dressed up.

"Good morning little bird, did you have a good sleep?" He turned to her as soon as she had begun to sit up.

"Are we going somewhere?"

"Me, not you." Namjoon replied, fixing his cufflinks "Be good for me while I'm gone,"

His voice was airy as he approached her to place a delicate kiss on her forehead. Yet his eyes were another story— they held a clear warning.

"The blood-business needs the big bad mafia?"

"Business is business, Jagi. There is only profit, loss and sides. Nothing else."

"So it is important."

"The maid has prepared breakfast, if you want, I can have it brought up." He diverted the topic

"No, thanks, I will take it downstairs."

"Okay. I might be late, do not wait up for me. Sleep on time, okay?"

She looked up to him before looking away with a dismissive nod.

Namjoon sighed, "Things would have been different had you just taken up my offer."

"I am here, am I not?"

"Not willingly. You are holding on some stupid ideals."

"Why must I trust you? You broke my heart– they are my friends who stayed with me. I am not holding on to any ideals anymore Namjoon"

I have a purpose.

Namjoon sucked his cheeks– a tell tale sign of his draining patience. He was a patient man, she would give him that– and perhaps it was the calmness he executed his plans, no matter how cruel– that sent sent chills cascading down her. He was not the one to run with impulse, rather, with a cold, meticulous plan.

All the more difficult to decipher.

Namjoon was a man to not mess with. And while he was an extremely patient man, every man had a fuse. She was in no position to try her luck.

Wanting to be out of the situation, she got off the bed and tried to walk past him, when his hand coiled around her waist, pulling her closer to him, while she kept looking ahead. Yet, there was a pit forming in her stomach.

"Those men had been too near you for my liking. If I wanted, I could have had them ripped apart." His hold tightened as he continued "Limb. To limb. And still have you here."

This made her turn to him– her fiery glare matched his cold contemplation.

"But I did not want that. I do not want you to hate me. So don't make do something that is going to cost our progress." His breath was hot on her skin.

Without another word, she jerked his hand away and strode into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind her.

Once inside, she waited for a good few minutes before she switched on the flush, then turned the shower on. She had heard the muffled sound of door closing. Opening the bathroom cabinet noiselessly, she rummaged through her sanitary needs before a packet came to her grasp. Dipping her fingers in, she fished out the phone she had hidden. Having checked the bathroom lock one more, she moved away from the door while her thumb rushed to dial a number.

The person picked up after a single ring.

"Kyong?"

She whispered.

—-----

Namjoon waited. Eye glancing on his wrist watch ever so often. He did not like to wait. He was the one make people wait. But this deal was important for a business boost. The larger the company, the easier it was to play the cards.

"Where is he, Lee?"

Namjoon's voice did nothing to show his thinning tolerance. He only flicked his lighter on and lit up the limited edition cigarette to keep his cool. The argument was in his mind, her fierce stare showed no spirit of reconciliation and this was worrying for him. He needed her to see how futile everything was– everything she believed in, and how powerful she could be with him. He wanted her loyalty, only then he could marry her. And if he would not marry soon, one of his rivals would and have a heir before him. He had spilled enough blood to be on top, he did not want more bloodshed. They all had their share when he killed the previous Don and took the throne.

"Jardo, my friend!"

Namjoon looked up to see the awaited guest walking up to him.

"My sincerest apology for the delay, businesses have trouble, Sir..."

"RM."

Namjoon corrected him before accepting the hand he offered for a shake.

"Jardo Alec, kindly have a seat."

Lee offered the seat right in front of Namjoon.

"So, your dealings in the Latin world is famous here too."

"Not here, its all over the world."

Namjoon tilted his head.

"I have a schedule, Alec, and I would get straight to the point. There is a shipment of merch-material coming for the factories under Hybe. It will stop the your coast for some custom issues– deal with it, refill the packs inside the material and ship it."

"Well, there has been negotiation regarding the price—"

"Seventy million. I want the pure, white and the yellow ones. Put them inside capsules" Namjoon interrupted.

Jardo sat back, surprised at the lack of negotiation.

"You have got your pockets full, RM."

Namjoon smiled while rising up and buttoning his suit, the rest of the men mirrored his actions.

"Lee will inform you regarding the rest. But I need the shipments before the top five groups begin their world tours."

"You want to sell in the concerts? That's a risky job."

Namjoon took in his cigarette, letting the fumes enter his system.

"Its a risky business."

----

Kyong's eyes took in the computer screen that showed the targets. He the location of the guards loitering in the woods near the villa. Namjoon was out in months. Surely, the guards would be on high alert.

His specialization in hacking did come handy when he was able to get past the security system of the cameras outside the villa and in the woods as well, to note the movements of Namjoon's men. But he could not stay for long, the breach would be eventually detected.

He noted their movements for a few hours before retreating. There was a pattern, but that was not his problem. The problem was the fucking high-functioning front with a camera that overlooked the area. He needed to find out first who had the control of the drone.

—--

"The risotto was delicious Pep."

"Thank you Ma'am." Pep smiled, bowed and retreated.

Just as she had finished her lunch, the gates of the villa opened,

"The weekly groceries are here, Madame."

"I have just finished lunch, don't bother about me, go fetch that."

Pep bowed lightly before rushing to open the door. Bags of the listed items were carried in by two sturdy men.

"Do they have the chocolates I ordered?"

She followed them into the kitchen as Pep prepared to stock up the pantry.

"Oh, here it is." He handed over the box of chocolates to her. Her eyes flicked over the two men there, then on Pep before she open the box.

"I will be in the bedroom Pep, have the evening tea sent up, will you?"

"As you wish, Madame."

She nodded before popping in one of the chocolates in her mouth and walking away.

Once inside the confines of her bedroom, she sighed. Nearing the intercom, she tossed away the chocolate box and picked up the intercom. Taking out a chip from her mouth and wiping it clean, she took off its plastic coat and glued it to the back of the device.

—----

"I don't understand, what do you mean by lost data?"

Namjoon was tense. How could it be? They have lost a dozen of profiles of their guards? Check for a breach."

"Checked Sir, there was none. It seems like a glitch." His men from the other end of the phone explained.

"Okay, send this case to the higher up. I don't want another sloppy hacker job."

Well, the day could not get any worse.

It had been two days since his confrontation with (Y/N) and she had been colder than before. No snide remarks, or witty, scalding comebacks, just the silence. Jardo and his deal was facing an obstacle regarding bribing the customs, and now some of his guards' biodata suddenly went missing.

Namjoon was on edge. Her jerked his tie to loosen up as the car sped through the muddy countryside road. The melting snow and the icy wind did not help.

"Bring me me a coffee!" He growled as soon as the housekeeper opened the door for him.

"Sure, Sir."

Tossing away his dirty overcoat, he ran his fingers through his hair, his eyes looked up to his room, usually, the lights would be on, but the room was all dark with the door wide open.

"Where (Y/N)?"

"Upstairs, Sir."

"She's not in the room." He pointed while taking the steaming cup from the housekeeper's grasp.

"She's on the terrace Sir."

He stopped just as he was about to take a sip. "The terrace? It's fucking dark! Why is she still there?"

He did not wait for an answer, instead, he ascended the stairs.

The terrace was lit up, as usual, just not empty anymore.

"What are you doing here?"

Her back was facing him when he reached the terrace

"I was bored."

She replied without turning.

"There are plenty of subscriptions for you, there are video games"

(Y/N) finally turned as he neared her.

"Thank you." Her honeyed tone stung.

"How long are you going to keep this up? What the fuck—-" Namjoon stopped mid-way, recollected himself after a long breath and resumed "What do you want?"

"You know what I want Namjoon, and even with all the money you can't give it to me."

"I can, once I begin to trust you."

"You proved me dead to the world! You have officers on your payroll, and you are still afraid."

"I am never afraid!"

With a roll of her eyes, she brushed past him.

Fuck it!

Namjoon turned around and strode behind her, grabbing her arm and jerking her to stop and turn to him.

"I've had enough! You think you can torment me like that?"

With a tilt of her head, she assessed him "I think its working. Cool off, Namjoon."

His hold only tightened.

"I have been patient enough, have I not? How long are you going to keep—"

"I do not play with people Namjoon. And then you have the audacity to complaint." It was not an outburst like before– it was plain, cold and as much as he wanted to deny– factual.

"You can't keep this up."

She rose her eyebrow, infuriating him further "Watch me." this time, she forcefully jerked his hold off and walked away.

Namjoon just stood there. Heaving. Burning.

Cool off.

The words did nothing to cool him off. In fact, it had the opposite affect. He needed her. He love her and she needed to know that. So he rushed after her. Chasing her like a lifeline, the only hope of survival.

Desperate.

Angry.

Passionate.

He did not know what came after what, or how many more emotions he was feeling. But he knew he loved her.

And that it hurt when she refused to believe him.

She was already in their room, walking in just in time as he rushed in, kicking the door close. But when she turned around to tell him off, his fingers wrapped around the back of her neck before he pulled her into a burning kiss.

It was like an imprint on his soul– he had been waiting, he had tried to be patient, but she was stubborn, and fiery, and righteous– he loved her, he loved everything about her, but above all, he would love to let his darkness bend her righteousness.

He felt her tugging him closer. He knew he was ingrained in her. She loved him too. His movements were quick and rough as he got rid of her clothes, not caring if he ripped them away in the process, removing his own as well.

It was static energy in the room, thick passion and meaning line between insanity and passionate.

"You fucking get on my nerves sometimes!" He growled, parting her legs with a firm, sharp movement but surprisingly, not rough.

"I thought the boss never loses his cool?"

He chuckled humourlessly at the poking.

"You wanted me to beg you, didn't you? Beg you for forgiveness and tell you how right you were?" his thumb found her pearl with practised ease, her sharp intake of breath only fuelled his desire "I do not beg!" he hissed on her face, playing with her pearl "I. Beg. Nobody!"

"Tell that to yourself Joon–keep telling that to yourself until you fool yourself." She replied breathlessly, somewhat grappling with her wit amidst the onslaught of pleasure coming down on her.

Joon.

Namjoon froze at the nickname. She had called him Joon after so long. It was like returning home after a hard exile.

His movements slowed down eventually, but never came to a halt. He leaned in and kissed her with tenderness– all the tenderness he could have in his heart– the remaining, the newfound, the churned, the ruined.

It did pain him to see her surprised eyes. A remained of the painful fact that she did not trust him, and it was a long way ahead to rebuild their relationship– one that would never be the same, since its very foundation was based on deception.

But in the end, their love would prevail. His love would prevail– even if it was crafted by the nefarious creatures below.

And if...

He dove in, peppering kisses on her bare breast, feeling them to his heart's content.

And if she would never love him the same again...

His one finger teased her folds, testing, feeling her legs spread further unconsciously, making him smirk.

His love was enough.

His finger dipped in. He had missed touching her, feeling her. It was moment he wished could last longer.

He kissed her again, this time, he felt her pulling him closer.

His finger reached deeper, feeling her velvet walls clamp around while she tensed. His thumb continued to play with. Her fingers sprawled over his naked chest, the nails barely scratching him– light and teasing. If she was doing that knowingly– she was playing with fire.

His other hand buried itself in her hair, fisting it lightly while he deepened the kiss, light moans only encouraged him to act further. Adding another finger, her moved them further, occasionally circling them to earn those sweet moans that spilled from her lips. His fingers moved and her hips followed, her hold on him tightened, sliding towards his shoulders.

"All you have is me."

He whispered into her ear, quickening his pace, watching in glee as her eyes rolled back before he felt her spilling on his fingers– hot, gushing as the walls spasmed.

He was a patient man...

But it had been so long since he felt her around him.

Diving in for another intense, mind-robbing kiss, he parted her legs further with his knees, fingers still buried knuckle-deep inside her.

The sudden flashes of her with another man sent him to a frenzy. Had he not promised her to spare their lives...

She moaned into the kiss, hissing as his fingers moved slowly inside her, occasionally parting to prepare her for him. Finally pulling away his fingers, he smeared her wetness all over his manhood before letting the bulbous head tap against her folds teasingly. His patience thinned further when she mewled into the kiss. Relenting against his tongue while he slid inside her, slowly stretching her, inch by inch, until he was buried as deep as he could be.

But he wanted to bury himself deeper.

He wanted to leave traces on her soul, he wanted to run in her veins, he wanted to be the one in her mind and the first on her tongue.

"I missed you." He was turning breathless with all the adrenaline pushing up in his system. Yet, he did not want to hurt her.

To him, she would always be his little bird

"You had me."

"I missed this. You, like this! We–we can always...always go back to as we were."

His hips moved in sync with hers. In that moment, they both were one. And he wished the moment would last till eternity.

It was like his soul was reaching out for hers.

He lied. He knew he lied.

He would beg.

For her, to her.

If that was what it took to being them back to the lovely days they once shared.

"Oh–Joon—"

He moved faster, basking in that moment, deluding himself that everything was alright.

At least he could relish it as long as it lasted.

Her legs wrapped around his hips as they both shuddered in ultimate contentment. It was quiet for a while as they settled under the covers.

"We can start afresh, love." Namjoon whispered, letting his fingers run through her hair, moving away strands as he cherished the tender moment.

Her previously closed eyes opened with unfathomable gaze.

"No, Namjoon. We are not meant to start afresh." With that, she moved the covers and got off the bed.

Grabbing things from the closet, she walked into the bathroom, unbothered by Namjoon's heated stare on her.

Sitting up, Namjoon picked up the cigarette pack and the lighter beside it. Pulling one between his lips, he lit the cigarette. The smoke clouded his vision as he exhaled, leaning back while his eyes kept finding their way back to the shut bathroom door every now and then.

Halfway through his smoke, he got off the bed and wore a pair of sweats.

Still no sign.

Frowning, he turned to pull the curtains of the window a bit and—

As soon as he saw the bloody corpse of one of his guards, he rushed to the bathroom.

"(Y/N)!"

No response.

With one powerful kick, the bathroom door flew open, letting him view the now wide open window with its glass slates cleanly removed with thick towels.

"(Y/N)! FUCK!"

He bellowed.

—---

The snow was thick and the dark woods did not make it any easier. There was blizzard due and they had to reach their car before that.

"Careful there," Han held (Y/N) as she tripped, almost falling flat on the ground "You sure you're not hurt?"

His questioned made Kyong turn to check on her as well, he had been a bit ahead if them, but within the earshot.

"No—I'm okay. Its get out of here." (Y/N) reassured Han, who eyed her with concern, but nodded nevertheless.

Kyong and Han had pulled off the impossible. She had only heard of Kyong's legendary hacking skills...Had seen him hacking no more than modest systems but as they made their way through the silent, snowy forest, she was introduced to his and Han's true potential.

But that was not the thought that plagued her mind– it was filled with the flashes of her and Namjoon– their bodies mingled together. He looked at her with so much of tenderness, with the vulnerability that she refused to believe in. it felt like they were even now.

He deceived her, she betrayed him.

And yet...

And yet there was no trace of satisfaction, or simmering down of the—-

"SHIT!"

Han ducked down just at the right moment, and the bullet hit the tree before him.

"Everyone, down!"

(Y/N) instructed, pushing Kyong away before another shot was fired at him.

"We need to split." She declared as they took cover. It was silent but the light crunching of the snow conveyed approaching danger.

"But we–"

"Now, Han. Go right, Kyong, follow this path. He's after me. I will go left. You two– if I do not return withing twenty minutes, get out of here."

"What? (Y/N). we are not leaving you behind!" Kyong hissed, eyes still ahead in search of the attacker.

"I won't let you guys die because of me–Dok was—"

"It wasn't your fault." Kyong finally looked at her, his hardened gaze softened slightly "It wasn't...I'm sorry. I should have been more understanding."

(Y/N) nodded.

"Go...Please."

Kyong frowned but obliged, nudging Han to slip out first without coming under notice.

"We will see you on the road by the woods?" Kyong's waited for assurance.

Assurance. That was all she could give him at the moment. So she nodded.

"Go."

With a nod, he began to crawl back, maintaining cover of the trees an shrubs. Once he motioned (Y/N), she made a quick dash to her left– deliberately exposing herself.

Her legs worked fast, but she could hear the sound of quick boots approaching. The snow was only slowing her down. But slowing down was not an option.

She could hear him running parallel to her, but with the blurring rights, she could see nothing. He was like an invisible hunter.

But she was no prey.

All she had to do was to distract—

Ow!

She fell to her side, allowing her had to slow down the momentum. But it was painful, especially due to the weight of another man over her. She heard him snigger humourlessly as he locked her to the ground. Knees pinning her legs while he locked her wrists behind her back with one hand. The barrel of the gun felt hot pushed on the nape of her neck. But his breath falling so close stole overshadowed the sense of danger a gun would bring.

"Not so fast." He growled lowly and she shivered, pressing the gun harder

The snow was cold and the jacket did little to help her. Her breathing ruffled some of the dried leaves close by as adrenaline pumped through her.

"I will fucking kill him–kill them both!"

Namjoon would keep his promise. And that gave her all the more reasons to get out.

"No, you will not."

She hissed before navigating her fingers to press on the spot near his thumb, making him loosen his grip a bit but that was enough for her. Her elbow shoved on his jaw as she twisted her body out of his grip. Putting her weight on her upper body, she managed to flip him off her. Rolling over, they both were quickly back on their feet. The only difference being Namjoon's gun now kicked away while (Y/N) had her gun pointed at him.

His smile was unnerving--eyes still raging with emotions. Despite the low visibility, she could see how deranged he looked.

"Yeah, fire now. That would help you in future."

His voice had a tremble.

(Y/N) narrowed her eyes, squinting to get a better look at him. The faint lights told her that the edge of the woods was nearby.

She could fire. She had the gun– a loaded gun. But how could she?

She realised the emptiness she had within after looking at Namjoon's eyes. Her vision blurred but she blinked away the tear immediately.

It's the cold.

It's cold.

She told herself.

"Back off Namjoon. I have nothing to lose anymore. I can keep you off the radar. Just don't come after me."

"I will always come after you Darling. So, shoot me now."

He chuckled at her lack of response.

"Why? Can't pull the trigger? Don't you hate me?"

"You made a fool out of me." (Y/N) growled, feeling anger bubbling up on the surface "Deceived me. Lied to me. Backstabbed me!"

"And yet I loved you. All through my lies, I loved you...I did what I ought to do. But I could never kill you."

He was supposed to kill her?

"We are even now, aren't we? Just come back. Cut the chase."

His voice was a siren call. But she would not be deceived this time.

"We can never be even Namjoon. I lost everything because of people like you."

The loud sound of the door breaking made her whimper, but it was all muffled with the sound of gunfire.

Through tears and fabrics, she could only watch as the once cream wall splattered with blood, and more blood before the lights were out.

She gulped.

She should have forgotten it. Buried it deep down. But she never allowed herself to forget that. She had to remember each and everything so that she could tell the child psychiatrist. Each and Everything.

"And you think you are all angels in that uniform?"

She shook her head.

"No."

Lies were worn under uniforms as well. There was no difference.

" Of course, there are no angels in this world Namjoon."

Her world was turned upside down. Her perception was cracked and her beliefs toppled. She was dead to the world. Being dead in reality would not make much of a difference.

She had nothing to lose.

"But that won't matter."

With that, she pulled the trigger.

----

The streets were in a lull. At he peak of winter, snow blanketed the footpath the bicycle lanes hardly had any tracks. Red, golden and green lights lit up near doors and on windows, like vines creeping all around. Some doors had the wreath hanging with toy bells.

Byun was home after a double shift– weary eyes, sagging shoulders– he knew he needed a warm bath. The process of unlocking the door felt tedious, but as soon as she shut the door, the warmth of his apartment invited him.

It was freezing.

And the predictions were that it would snow heavily by the weekend. While everyone would be cozied under blankets and the roof of their homes, people like him would have to slave their way through the weekended to save the sorry-ass streets.

He threw his overcoat off, along with his cap before roughly taking off his watch—

He stood stiff, straining his ears while his fingers silently took out his gun.

Muffled voices from his bedroom door which was shut tight. He was home after more than twenty four hours but he remembered leaving it open.

He always left it open.

Deliberately, he made his way to his kitchen, making sure he made enough disturbances. Switching on his expresso machine, he stealthily glided along the walls, making it to his bedroom.

The muffled voices did not cease. Silently, he tried the door knob– unlocked.

In a flash, he kicked it open and aimed his gun towards the intruders, fully expecting people to fire at him.

Nothing.

The door creaked as it moved to and fro due to the force it was opened with, while the bedroom remained plunged in darkness and—-

The voice.

It was his voice!

Coming from a voice recorder sitting on the middle of the bed.

"Hi, I'm Byun. I have just prepared a team of four. They will come after your men. Reach the docks an hour before the time. I don't want them caught. No, listen, I can mislead for so long–they're no kids okay? Yeah they–*sigh* I am calling you through his phone so that we are safe. Tell Mr Lee all about the delivery– yeah—"

Byun reached quickly to shut it off, his gun still pointing ahead.

He was not wrong, his house was broken into.

A speeding car momentarily flashed some light into the darkness.

He was not alone.

"I've seen you...come out..." He demanded gruffly, keeping a cool exterior.

From the darkest corner, she emerged like a ghost. Parts hidden by the darkness, parts exposed by the uneven streetlight.

"A-aa—you fire that gun and yet this recording is going to be on air, I have put it on timer."

Her eyes flickered on the gun pointed on her direction but they were looking into his in no time.

"I wasn't going to shoot." Byun deadpanned.

"Why?" (Y/N) rose an eyebrow with an amused smirk.

"Because its you."

She only titled her head, "You underestimated me Byun."

His name sounded cold as she neared him.

"Like you underestimated my father."

"He died because he was foolish. I warned him against them–but he was stubborn. He brought it to himself. You were following his path."

She shook her head.

"I am not my father Byun. I learnt my lesson early."

The silence between them was thick and strained, but it lasted only a moment.

"I you kill me the department would know and—"

"I give you two straight options– either this recording of yours goes on-air and the police, the intelligence and Henchin himself come after you to give you the death you deserve...Or you end it all by yourself and make it easier for yourself."

Byun chuckled in disbelief.

"I am being merciful Byun. Take it while you can."

"You are showing me mercy because you can't kill me yourself." He pointed out.

"What would be worse? Your recording coming out or being killed by my hands?" She looked at the wall clock hanging behind him "Fifty seconds more, and it all is going to go on air. The department would want to look good in the public eye– they would want you behind bars, or dead... And Henchin would reach you behind bars too."

Conflict flickered all over his face, his forehead glistened.

"Lee will come after you." He tried to intimidate.

But (Y/N) only smiled– faint and tight– matching her steeled gaze

"I will be waiting."

"You cannot—"

"Ten."

"(Y/N)--" he hissed

"Nine"

"You will gain nothing!"

"Eight..."

"I–"

"Seven"

"STOP!"

"Six" She sniggered.

"Five."

He was growing breathless

"Fou–"

In a flash, he pointed his gun at his head"

BANG!

The once pristine wall beside him was sprayed with blood. Some flecked her face too as she watched his body drop down.

She would have stared longer, but she knew that she had no time to waste. Choosing the fire escape, she noiselessly made her way out of the building while muffled voice of disturbance and commotion began to stir up.

Once a safe distance away, (Y/N) wiped her face before fishing out a cigarette and a lighter from her coat's pocket.

As she lit her cigarette, she saw the trembling of her hands.

----

Continued here.