Yandere Bts - Blog Posts

All are so good

My Favorite Soulmate Fanfiction (Part 1)

@purpleyoonn

Petrichor

BTS x Reader, CEO, omegaverse, soulmate au, polyamory

You had been working at Bangtan Corporation for almost two years now, and not once have you ever laid eyes on your bosses. That was, until you met them when out with some of your coworkers. Now, you almost wish you hadn’t. Almost.

baby (you complete us)

BTS x Reader, disabled reader, soulmate au, idol au, polyamory

Soulmates were a common occurrence, so common, in fact, that the world sought an easier way to find your other half: A bracelet that would scan your mark and match you with those who shared your mark. Within recent years, soul groups were becoming normal, and your own bracelet said you have seven matches. 

Or where you wear your bracelet for ten years, and finally give up the hope you would find your soul group, only for BTS to put theirs on and see what they were missing.

The Line Between Love and War 

BTS x Reader, autistic reader, soulmate au, idol au, polyamory

Your experiences told you that soulmates were something you would never have the pleasure of having; something not given to you because of who you are, despite the soulmark that resides on your inner left wrist. During your solo trip to Los Angeles, you find out that you are more than capable, that your soulmates had been waiting for you for a long time, and would not be letting you go anytime soon.

Dance of Time

BTS x Reader, vampire BTS, human reincarnated reader, soulmate au, reincarnation, yandere

You were finally back in the hometown you left right after graduation, researching the mysterious manor that laid outside of the town limits. Your family was acting weird, and the owner of the manor seemed to know more about you than he should. Everything changed when you entered the manor, and you weren’t sure your dance with time was going to last very long.

enchanted 

Min Yoongi x Reader, dragon King Yoongi, soulmate au, royalty au, fantasy au

The realm under King Min’s rule had been under war for over thirty years, a war within the inhuman species with origins no one knows. Your presence was brought into awareness when found by the king under the rubble of your home. You are plunged into a world you had only ever seen from the outside, and don’t know how long you can last.

@bluemari23

New _World 

Choi Seungcheol x Reader, soulmate au, idol au, neurodivergent reader

the night of your 18th birthday left nothing to be desired; waking up to no hint of any soul bond left you one of the unbonded. almost eight years later, however, you find out that you are very much not unbonded, and that your soulmate is someone who you admire. very much.

Dar+ling You 

You were on your way to South Korea, leaving your life behind to follow your soulmate back home. Your anxiety runs amok, and Seungcheol tries his best to get to know you better.

Soul Glow 

Choi Seungcheol x Reader, soulmate au, idol au, neurodivergent reader

You were on your way to South Korea, leaving your life behind to follow your soulmate back home. Your anxiety runs amok, and Seungcheol tries his best to get to know you better.

Soul Haze 

you had just gotten home after leaving the seventeen concert early, only for your phone to start ringing with what you think is the biggest joke of the century. it turns out, that maybe you left too early.

Dazzling Light

Kim Hongjoong x Reader, soulmate au, idol au, autistic reader

your soul bond activates at a concert and you seriously doubt your actually going to be able to meet them, not when they are on the stage and more than likely can't see the soul light that surrounds you. 

seeing this hobi is like whiplash... also the tags say yandere jk

price of freedom (2)

↳ synopsis: upon learning that your father had arranged for you to marry kim taehyung, heir to the biggest corporation in asia, to secure his win in the presidential election, you sought the help of det. jeon jungkook of the intelligence unit to take him down and attain your freedom. however, you soon realized that freedom had a price and det. jeon’s was the most expensive and dangerous of it all. 

↳ pairing: detective!jungkook x professor!fem!reader

↳ genres: yandere, heavy angst, dark romance, slow burn, political

↳ warnings: this story is fiction. the characters of the tannies here do not represent who they are in real life. please learn how to discern fiction from reality. as this is a yan-centered au, mature themes are to be expected. hence, readers below 19 are prohibited from reading and/or interacting with this story. please police yourself in consuming fanfics that are not suitable for your age. please expect strong language, corruption, manipulation, gaslighting, graphic depiction of violence, use of cigarette and consumption of alcohol, mentions of s3xual assault, and murder.

Like the last time you saw him, he was wearing a long black coat under his suit and black pointed leather shoes. When you saw him standing outside of your apartment, you knew exactly what he was there for—the day of your press conference had finally arrived. 

You took off your earphones as you walked towards him, chest rising heavily as you had just arrived from your jog. “Have you always known where I lived? Don’t tell me you have cameras around my apartment too.” 

Namjoon didn’t address your question. Instead, he informed you, “The press conference starts in three hours. I’m here to take you to it.” 

“Of course you are,” you scoffed, unlocking your apartment. You entered your place and kept the door open for Namjoon to follow you inside. 

“Take a shower and then we'll leave,” Namjoon said, shutting the door behind him. “Taehyung has made arrangements regarding your wardrobe.” 

“Don’t I get any say in this matter?” you asked, turning on your heels to face Namjoon. 

“He prepared various dresses for you to choose from, Y/N.” 

“You know that’s not what I mean,” you snapped. “Can you tell me I have, even just a little bit, of a say in this marriage?” 

“You and I both know that’s not possible,” he said with a deep sigh. “Just get ready, please.” 

Shaking your head, you proceeded to your bathroom. It didn’t take long for you to finish getting ready; slipping on a pair of wide leg jeans, a simple white shirt, and throwing on a black coat over it. You sat down in front of your vanity mirror, blow drying your hair. Then, you put on your usual jewelry—except for the necklace Jeon Jungkook had given you days after meeting with him and his sergeant. 

It was gold with an engraving of St. Joseph on the circle pendant. It wasn’t eye-catching to say the least, which was the point as it was the “wire” that you needed to wear to capture everything when you were with your father. Because you couldn’t contact Jungkook or Yoongi, the detective told you that you only needed to press the pendant once and it would immediately activate and send them a signal that would alert them that you were under the wire. 

After slipping on your white sneakers and putting your phone, wallet, and keys inside your coat pockets, you left your room. Namjoon was looking at your bookshelf. You stared at his back for a moment. Most of the books in there were the books he made you read growing up. They were his copy. You always wanted to get rid of them but when you were about to, you just couldn’t.  

“I’m done,” you said. 

Namjoon turned to face you. “Okay. Let’s go.” 

The ride was quiet. Namjoon was sitting beside the driver while you were seated in the backseat. Your phone vibrated in your pocket and you pulled it out, seeing Jungkook’s message. 

We’re with you. Do your thing. 

It was oddly comforting. You never would’ve thought you’d be feeling that way especially coming from Jungkook. You put your phone back in your pocket and lowered yourself on the chair, resting your head against the window. 

It didn’t take long before you reached V Hotel. From your view inside the vehicle, the tall building looked so intimidating. It almost looked like it reached the sky. It wasn’t the first time you had been at the hotel. You remembered this establishment from your childhood. Your family would always stay here when you were in Seoul. The memories were fond because they were memories with your mother—room service, movie nights, trying out your mother’s jewelry and heels even though they were too big on your small feet. 

In the hotel room, it felt like you had your own world. The both of you could be as careless as you wanted because there was no husband and father that would restrict you. 

Now, you were back and everything had changed. Your mother was dead and you were marrying the heir to this hotel. 

Namjoon opened the door for you, cutting off your trance. With a deep sigh, you stepped out of the vehicle. Immediately, you heard screams from everywhere. You didn’t even notice the media behind the barricade from across the street. 

“What the hell is that?” you asked Namjoon as he led you inside the hotel. 

“It’s a press conference, Y/N. What did you expect?” he returned. 

When you were finally in the lobby, what struck you the most was the chilly air conditioned air. The lobby was massive and wide. Everything was grand. You would not deny the beauty of the five-star hotel. The manager greeted you and Namjoon then led you to your suite. Even the elevator was grand. By the time you arrived at your suite, you weren’t surprised at the elegant interior. 

“Enjoy your stay. Please let us know if you need anything else.” 

You didn’t have time to breathe because as soon as you arrived at the suite, Namjoon immediately instructed everyone in the room to start getting ready. Before you knew it, you were sitting in front of a vanity mirror with bright lights in front of your face and what seemed like dozens of people pressing a million things on your face. 

When your make up was done, the stylist helped you put on your dress. During all this preparation, not one of them spoke. You wondered if they were instructed not to. 

“No, I want to keep this necklace,” you told the stylist who was on the verge of unclasping the necklace. 

The dress you were now wearing was a white silk dress with thin straps and hugged you perfectly in all your curves. When you were finally done, you felt like a completely different person. It felt like you were back into your old lifestyle. 

“Thank you everyone,” you said as they were preparing to leave. They just bowed and didn’t say anything back. 

When you were finally alone in the suite, you sat down on one of the couches. Unconsciously, your fingers found its way to the pendant of your necklace. You wondered if Jungkook was still watching, listening. You wondered if he was anywhere near the hotel. The nerves had finally set in. 

Today, you were going to announce to the entire nation that you were marrying Kim Taehyung. 

And speaking of the devil, he arrived in your suite. He wore a tailor-fitted brown-shade three-piece suit. Unlike the last time you saw him, his hair was back to being black, slicked back, exposing his forehead and handsome face. 

“Hi there, Y/N. Long time no see,” Kim Taehyung greeted with a smirk plastered on his lips. “You look beautiful, Y/N.” 

“Wish I could say the same to you,” you told him, rising from your seat. “So, tell me, was this all your idea? A sick fantasy you had?” 

Taehyung chuckled. “I hate to break it to you but this is purely a business strategy for me. You can hate your father for this marriage.” 

Somehow, that made it worse. Your father really had no regard for you. 

“I’m sure you didn’t want to get married this way. You can literally have anyone you want, Taehyung. So, how about we make a run for it? Go on with our lives.” 

“Not anyone is the daughter of the future president of this country, Y/N,” he said. “You don’t need to worry about me getting in the way you live your life, if that’s what’s you’re worried about. You can see other people and I wouldn’t mind. Just don’t do it publicly. We still have appearances to keep up.” 

This was not the Kim Taehyung you were expecting. You heard rumors about him. You heard all sorts of unfortunate words that described him: womanizer, notorious, evil, diabolical. Yet he didn’t seem like any of it as he stood in front of you. Perhaps, it was an act? 

“Come on. The sooner we finish this press conference, the quicker we get back to our day lives.” 

And so, you were on your way. 

When you arrived at the hall where the press conference was held, you felt like your heart was going to leap out of your chest at any moment. The anxiety creeped into your system and suddenly, you were hyper aware of everything that was happening around you. All the bodyguards that surrounded you and their chatters about being in their respective positions, the yelling of the media inside the hall, the sound of their cameras clicking, and your shaky breath. 

Taehyung grabbed your hand which, instinctively, you tried to withdraw but his grip was right and he tugged you along with toward the stage where you saw your father and Taehyung’s parents already seated—all smiles and jovial towards each other. 

Seeing your father made you tremble in anger. He was the reason behind everything. Seeing him act like he wasn’t cheating his way to the presidency by using her own daughter like a puppet in front of everyone in the hall and to the people who were watching ignited a fiery ball of anger and resentment in your heart. And when your eyes met, you felt like you were a fucking child again. You knew the look all too well—do as I say. 

Taehyung greeted his parents by bowing ninety-degrees, letting go of your hand momentarily to clasp it over his stomach. You followed his action. Then, the both of you bowed respectfully to your father. It made you sick. 

You sat beside him while Taehyung sat beside his parents. Both of you were in the center. You were now aware of just how vast and how many media were present inside the hall. 

“Hello. We’ll now start with the press conference,” an emcee off stage spoke into the microphone. “Everyone, please introduce yourself.” 

Taehyung’s parents were the first to introduce themselves, followed by their son, you, and lastly, your father. 

“Hello. My name is Jung Hoseok, Y/N’s father. Thank you all for coming.” 

Y/N’s father—he always introduced himself that way to the public. Never Mayor Jung Hoseok, Congressman Jung Hoseok, or Senator Jung Hoseok. It was always Y/N’s father. He wanted to be seen as just another father in the country. That made him relatable out of his peers. Even at such a young age, he would use you for his advantage. In hindsight, you probably should’ve seen this coming. But hindsight was indeed 20/20. 

“To the members of the media present with us at the hall and to the global viewers of the live broadcast, we want to welcome you to the press conference of the announcement of Kim Taehyung and Jung Y/N’s engagement. To start, we will be entertaining the questions from select media. Upon your arrival at the hall, your seats were randomly put on a red sticker so if you have a sticker on your seat, please rise and we will call your name row by row. Thank you.” 

And so, the questioning began. The first ones were basic—how you and Taehyung met which you both answered at ease. It surprised you—how you answered the question at ease, how smoothly you lied in front of the cameras. How you quickly came up with scenarios adding onto Taehyung’s recount of your romance. 

Perhaps, the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. 

“Ms. Go Minji from The Seoul Times.” 

A beautiful dark-haired woman dressed in a pair of jeans, white blouse underneath a black coat and heels, carrying her thick notebook in one hand and her phone in the other went to the center where the microphone was placed. Despite the charming smile plastered on her lips, her sharp gaze met yours and you immediately knew she wasn’t just some journalist. She was young, probably around your age, and her sharp gaze held a lot of tenacity and passion. 

The burning passion of the youth—a catalyst for many things. 

“Hello. This question is specifically for Ms. Jung Y/N,” Minji spoke into the mic. 

“Yes, please proceed with your question.” 

“It’s public knowledge that you and your father had not been in contact for many years, presumably since the passing of your mother. Isn’t it curious that, all of a sudden, you’re back into each other’s lives, and you’re marrying Mr. Kim Taehyung, heir to the V Corporation which is also the largest stockholder of Han Systems, the supplier of this year’s national elections?” 

You could feel everyone’s eyes on you but nothing more evident than that of your father’s. He was burning holes in you. 

“It’s true. My father and I have been estranged for some time now. We have differences, just like everybody else. We have arguments and misunderstandings that we sweep under the rug rather than confront them immediately and that led to the unfortunate estrangement. But he’s my father and I never stopped loving, caring, and supporting him—,” you took a quick glance to your father and saw him smiling at you. 

For everyone else it might be a sweet smile. For you, it was sinister. 

You continued, “You know, just because we’ve lived our lives publicly since he became involved with politics doesn’t mean that we have to put everything out there. My father and I have reconciled. As for my marriage to Taehyung—like we said a while ago, we’ve known each other since we were little. We’ve been friends throughout the years. It didn’t occur to us that we share the same romantic feelings for each other until last month. So, when we acknowledged it, there wasn’t really any second guessing—we knew we wanted to spend the rest of our lives together. It may be unorthodox to most since our society is very conservative when it comes to dating, but it’s a testament on how true and sincere our feelings are for each other. We are marrying because we love each other.” 

“But isn’t that a conflict of interest? Your father is running for president.” 

“No, it’s not. Firstly, there are no laws against our union. Secondly, my father is not corrupt. His record can attest to that. Thirdly, Han Systems developed a corruption-proof system. That is why the Commission on Elections approved their license to be the supplier for this election after a thorough investigation on the company and the testing of the machine. It took them six years to reach this decision. That only means Han Systems was the best of the best. Their system worked. I understand how our union may raise speculation but I ask the public to look at the facts and the records of my father’s public service of more than 20 years before they spread malicious comments.” 

The moment you stepped out of the bathroom to change back into your own clothes, Jung Hoseok was waiting outside. He was seated in one of the chairs near the room’s balcony. 

“You answered well a while ago,” he complimented. “Sounded like a true politician’s daughter.” 

“I’m going now. You got what you wanted so let’s just stay out of each other’s way as we’ve been doing the past years,” you told him. 

“Stay, Y/N. I’m not done talking to you.” 

There was the Jung Hoseok you remembered. All the traces of his public persona were gone. Before you was the true Jung Hoseok—cold, stern, dictatorial. With your fists clenched, you faced your father. 

“You will see this through, Y/N. This act doesn’t end after the press conference. In fact, it’s only the beginning. I’m sure Namjoon has told you what the consequences will be if you deliberately try to cross me. It’s not only your life that is at stake. Do you understand?” he raised his eyebrow slightly, challenging you to deviate. 

“I do,” you said. 

“Good.” 

“How can you do this? You’ll sell out your own blood for your own selfish interest. Do you have no conscience?” you asked because it hurt. It still hurts even though you always knew your father was not a good man. 

“Y/N, I thought by now you’ve grown up and accepted the realities of the world,” he shook his head as he rose from his seat. “You were always your mother’s daughter. So idealistic, so… hopeful,” you felt your body froze when his fingers traced your jaw. “Look at where that led her. Killed by the very people she stood for,” Hoseok sighed deeply. “Justice, truth, honesty, morality—these are fallacies. Man-made illusions to sell idealists like you into championing causes that do not matter. Made to believe we’re all equal. Y/N, we’re not. There will always be a leader and a follower. And I am born to lead. And I will do everything to make sure I get to lead for a long, long time.” 

The sinister smile appeared on his face once more as he continued, “So, don’t get in my way because I won’t hesitate to do what needs to be done to push you off it.” 

Same place. Take the route we used. 

This was the message that you saw after you finished drying the dishes you used when eating. It was from Jungkook, obviously, and even though you wanted nothing more but to stay in and call it a night—you knew this was more important. So, without further ado, you took your keys, wallet, phone, and coat then proceeded to the parking area of your apartment building. 

Fortunately, you still remembered the route Jungkook used going to the warehouse. You guessed this was probably the location you would often meet. You wondered how many CIs had driven the same route and what happened to them afterwards. 

When Jungkook asked to meet with you to give you the necklace, you had asked the very question. 

“What happens after my father is in jail? I imagine I have to testify and all that but what about after that?” you asked as Jungkook put the necklace around your necklace. 

“You get your payment for the information you provided us and you’re free to do whatever the hell it is that you wanna do,” Jungkook answered, locking the gold jewelry in place. 

“I don’t need money. But freedom sounds nice,” you replied, turning to face him. 

Jungkook became a friendly face. You never expected this. It felt like with him came hope that everything would be alright, that the good guys would win this time around. 

Moments later, you arrived at the warehouse. It was dark and the street lights didn’t help illuminate the streets clearly. All that you could see was whatever the bright light from your headlights shone upon. Once you had parked and shut the engine off, you stepped out of your vehicle and proceeded inside, using your phone’s flashlight to guide you. 

“Y/N.” 

Your heart nearly leapt out of your chest again. You turned and your flashlight shone upon Jungkook’s face. 

“What the hell is the matter with you? Why do you sneak up like that?” your hand was on your chest, feeling your heartbeat. 

“Sorry. Part of the job is to be as sneaky as you can,” Jungkook’s lips formed into a smile. “Come on. Let’s talk somewhere brighter.” 

So, you followed him upstairs and inside a room with the lights on but no windows. It was small with only a table and a metal chair. The walls were dirty yellow filled with various graffiti. The floor too. 

“What was this place?” you asked, genuinely curious. 

“According to Sarge, it used to be a sardines factory. But it was shut down and the local police department took over after it was revealed that the owners were trafficking underage girls and shipping them off to various countries,” Jungkook explained, sitting on the table behind him, and pulling out a box of cigarettes and lighter from his coat pocket. “Intelligence mostly uses it as a safe place to talk to CIs.” 

You nodded. Jungkook lit a cigarette between his lips. “So, everything that happened a while ago was captured and recorded. Our tech guy is uploading it to a database for safekeeping. I wanted to let you know that you did great.” 

“I lied, Jungkook, about everything,” you told him with a light scoff. 

“It was necessary,” he shrugged it off. You frowned a bit. Was lying also ‘part of the job?’ He must have noticed your expression because he chuckled as he blew smoke from his mouth. “Professor, you do realize the world isn’t black and white? Sometimes, to do our jobs, we have to use similar methods as the bad guys.” 

You inhaled deeply with your lips pressed tightly. “Why did you wanna meet?” 

“I wanted to know if you were okay after everything that happened today.” 

“You could’ve asked me over the phone.” 

“Yeah, but I wanted to see you,” Jungkook removed the cigarette from his lips. “You’re my CI, Y/N. You’re my responsibility. Part of my job is to make sure you’re okay every time you’re undercover.” 

“I’m fine,” you told him. “Honestly, right now, I just want to sleep. I’m sure after today, I’m gonna be whisked away for God knows what for the wedding.” 

“Y/N, you asked us before how long will this take, remember? And Sarge told you that it was a long game. You can’t have this attitude if you wanna take your father down.” 

“I’m not—,” 

“Yes, you are,” Jungkook rose from his seat. “This defeatist attitude. It’s getting annoying. It’s not going to help you last,” his eyebrows were furrowed and suddenly, he seemed bigger. “You want to see your father pay for his crimes? Then, do everything in your power to do it. Stop second guessing yourself, use your instincts, commit.” 

You weren’t sure what to say but everything he said left an impact on you. 

“I’m not mad,” he said after a while. “I’m just being direct.” 

You nodded slowly. “No, it’s fine. I—I understand. I’ll do my best, really.” 

Jungkook smoked again. “Okay. You can go now. Keep your necklace on.”

↳ author’s note: a bit of a filler chapter. i just wanted to let you guys have a sneak peek on hoseok and taehyung's characters. comments & feedbacks are highly appreciated! reblogs too <33 these are really writers' bread and butter.

↳ author’s note: @llallaaa @jjk174 @doulcha @phthartic-fox @bakudon (can't tag you) @whipwhoops @parkinglot-nights

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

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! 💖

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.

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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 :)

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.

The Taste of Deceit(Hyungline Part Two-Finale)

Masterlist

The Taste of Deceit Masterlist

Hyungline- Part 1, Part 2: Hoseok, Namjoon

Warnings: Violence, Dark Characters with Darker Intentions. Disturbing imagery, allusions, blood, and slight gore. And the most important- DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT(Dub-con, Non-con).

This took me so long...It has been a long year.

Word Count: 13k-ish

Happy New Year Everyone.

Kindly excuse typos and errors. No advanced editing done.

(GIF credits to the owner)

"Where are the rest of them?"

The man leading the team asked as he inspected the bloodied bodies of his colleagues, keeping an eye on the cold corpses, while the rest of the team spread out in the house, in search of Officer (L/N)(Y/N).

They were not very hopeful regarding her survival.

The backup force in the adjacent house, who were allotted to keep a watchful eye, were all found on the floor--cold and mangled. It was a direct dent in the department. A declaration of war.

His eyes scanned through the bed, trying to figure out any oddity in the darkness. Switching on the lights would alert the lurking enemies. And he could not afford to lose more of his team members. Tentatively, his gloved hands ran through the bloodied sheet, the room stunk of it.

Finally!

He found something, a square–no, rectangular device. Fishing it out from below the covers, he inspected the device. It seemed akin to a voice recorder. Marred with blood, the man had every reason to consider if (Y/N) deliberately left it there for them to find her, or maybe a clue...they were too late.

Wiping away the blood, he switched it on.

There were a few muffled sounds and some glitches initially before he could clearly hear–

There was a continuous huffing before he heard a gasp and a moan.

"Who do you belong to? Huh–?"

"You-Oh my–ah!"

"Why–I thought y-you fucking worked for the authorities."

"I—Jin-hah! That's notyou, Please!"

It was somewhere between a beg, a cry and a moan. The captain stood still, blood beginning to boil. But he continued to listen.

Officer (L/N)'s gasps and the sound of skin slapping were clear to him as much as what was transpiring in the recording.

"Please Jin—just surr–surrender, this was—"

Smack!

"Tch! Shut it already—You– and I both know that they are never seeing us again!"

"Oh–my—"

"Right Baby, just let g–go–shit! Too much of this fuc-fuking game–yeah? It'sokay..."

The sounds that followed felt like a slap on his face. No, it was a slap on the whole fucking department's face.

"I forgive you, love."

That was the final straw, the officer rose his hands to smash the bloody thing on the ground. Kim Seokjin messed with the wrong person, he fucking spit on the Department. He was going to hunt—

He paused midway.

Kim Seokjin left the tape deliberately. It was an open challenge to the department, he even did not bother to clean up after the murdering two of the officers himself, not the rest too. The recording, the murder scene, the whole house— all these were powerful pieces of evidence.

So why would he just...Leave them behind?

That sly rat obviously did not want to get caught.

But the evidence...

Unless...

"Officers! Officers wherever you are get out of the building I said evacuate the buildings. Over."

He held the tape close as he rushed out of the room and into the hallway."

"Sir, what is wrong?" One of the officers asked through the device.

"It's a trap! I REPEAT IT'S A TRAP! EVACUATE THE—-"

BOOM!

The deafening boom was swift, followed by another within a millisecond, but the amber and the sparks were quicker.

And within a moment, the two buildings burst into flames. Fire and fireproof helmets flying out, some parts of burning cloths, burnt uniforms and perhaps some skin attached to them.

—---

Jin smiled at her sleeping form through the mirror before he felt his burner phone vibrating.

"Sir, it's done." A voice from the other side spoke as soon as he picked up the call.

"Good, now get out of there." Jin instructed before hanging up the call.

He could finally lean back. His eyes remained on the road ahead, along with a smile that he did not wish to wipe anytime soon.

—--------

Waking up was a slow process. But (Y/N) had not felt more blissful before. She felt like she was surrounded by soft clouds. She felt pampered, and it was not a feeling foreign to her but she was relaxed and—-

She woke up with a start, shaking the remaining sleep off her, though her mind was still a bit muddled. Flashes of the night before occupied her mind as she blinked to clear up her vision. He...What had she done?

Did she give in?

She just...She just laid there, under him, taking whatever he gave her

She put her whole department to shame and yet—

The gentle fingers brushing through her hair, detangling the tresses were all too familiar to even guess– she knew it was Jin. Laying behind her.

"How did you sleep?" It was the morning voice that she was used to, but this time, she was alert for a whole new reason.

Did he wish to play with her a bit before slaughtering her?

There was one thing that Kim Seokjin would never forgive, she had learnt in her two years with him– betrayal.

Expecting forgiveness from him after stabbing him in the back was like trying to dig up a well in a desert.

"You need to relax, Love. As I said yesterday, I forgive you."

She frowned but did not dare to turn.

"I forgive you..."

"I forgive you..."

"I forgive you..."

Was that what she heard before she fell into a tired, hopeless, dreamless slumber?

Even if she were to die, she knew that she was no coward. And she would not die like one. So (Y/N) turned around, facing the man who shaped her nightmares and dreams.

Turning around, she realised she was naked, while he was in his usual night pyjamas. And while she had been naked with him several times before, this made her feel vulnerable, exposed even.

"You did not give away the other pen drive, Jagi. Of course, I forgive you. How can I not?"

He looked soft, hair ruffled, eyes slightly swollen, and overall deceptively harmless.

"You killed them."

As long as she could remember, there were two bodies. Two of her seniors lay bloodied and dead on the bed.

"Yes, Jagi, I killed them all." Jin's smile was sweet, the one she had grown used to.

And so was it unhinged.

"You can't hide forever, you know?"

"We, Love. It's us against them. You proved your loyalty to me last night. The remaining doubts shall be dealt with effectively." He rose slightly with the support of his elbow and placed a quick kiss on her forehead. "I will be back, yeah?"

He left after that. Left her with her thoughts as she spiralled further and further down. All the things that had gone wrong and that she had done wrong. Two of the senior-most officers were dead. The department would hunt her down, hunt them down.

She had no clue how long it had been until Jin returned with a tray that she assumed contained breakfast.

"I had the maids prepare a light breakfast, did not want you to get your stomach upset again."

She frowned. Why did she not remember any of that?

"I–I threw up last night?"

"Yes, you did, even had a fever. Perhaps things were too much for you. Had me worried there for a while. Now, rise up, you must eat something."

"Why are you doing this?" She refused to believe that she was 'forgiven', she was not even apologising in the first place. "If this is your way of prolonging—"

"I could have killed you the day I found out who you were."

She stilled at his words. They were obvious but that did not stop the chill that descended into her spine. It was a strange cocktail of sadness and affirmation.

"But I didn't..."

I couldn't

The words lingered with uncertainty in the air.

"I wanted to see how far this little game goes. And then I saw it..." He tilted his head as his lips curved into a condescending smirk "...How naïve you were. It's pathetic actually. Thinking what you do is the 'right thing'."

"You run an underworld business of drugs and weapons Jin. No matter what you do, how you are, you cannot separate that from yourself...You have blood on your hands Jin and the only way to wash it—"

He interrupted her with a loud scoff that broke into a cackle.

"Honey, you don't wash it all off, it took my blood sweat and money to build this empire. And then I watch some puppet idealists coming to topple it...It's amusing."

He gently laid the breakfast tray on the foldable table placed over her lap.

"It's a game (Y/N). A big game where people like you are only disposable pawns...Why do you think the department is bothered about me now? Why not years back? I was easier to crush then."

When she only frowned, he continued.

"Because they are not hunting for sweeping the city, or the nation clean. They are hunting for those who cannot be loyal to them. Once you are ready to spend billions on election campaigns, domestic and international deals, give money to their pretty puppets and invest in their projects– be their loyal dogs, do the dirty work for them...You are free to do whatever the fuck you want."

He gently cupped her cheeks, leaning in to level with her gaze. "One Government topples, so does their favours upon their underworld allies, the next one would only want to uproot them all. It's not about just tice, or charity, or protecting the city. It never was. It has and always been about power...Once they find out that you have not handed over the other pen drive, you are going to end up with a 'criminal' bullet lodged into your head."

"What about the bullets in those officers' bodies?"

Jin only smiled "If my soul were made of what has shaped yours, Jagi...I would not have been where I am."

He placed a tender kiss on her forehead.

"Get something into your system. I will prepare a bath for you."

Standing up, he towered over her.

"For now, you are not allowed to step out of the room without my explicit permission. Not until my trust in you is restored completely. You still went to meet them, and I cannot risk another slip-up."

"So I am your prisoner."

"Of course not, Jagi. I have a special place for my 'prisoners'. You are the woman I love and refuse to lose. You are the one for me. But fortunately, love cannot blind me to the realities of your position. It is just a bump in the road, we will pass through this."

She could not even begin to decipher what odd amalgamation of emotions she was feeling at the moment. It was all too much. But she knew one thing...She was trapped. A trap she had willingly walked into.

"I will let you have the bath to yourself. Finish up, okay?"

With that, Jin walked into the bathroom. The little muffled sounds here and there let her know that he was doing what he said he would do. Exactly that.

—--

The water felt perfect against her skin, washing away the aches and clammy sensation. But nothing could wash away him. He was imprinted on her mind, and even if he had thoughtfully left her alone in the bathroom, (Y/N) felt him everywhere, in everything. It was like the whole place, not just the bathroom or the room, but each brick was breathing Kim Seokjin.

It was an odd situation. After everything she had seen and experienced, she knew that there was something going on in Jin's mind– he was concocting a plan and if he was not, then he had already emerged as victorious.

She would not be surprised though. He had himself revealed that he had known her true occupation for a while now. It was all a bait. Her two seniors were dead, and perhaps even her colleagues who were in the other house and—

The realisation hit her like a truck. Before she knew it, she was scrambling out of the tub, splashing water everywhere, slipping here and there. But she did make it back to the room, albeit with only a bath robe on, she rushed out of the bathroom, only to begin searching for a TV remote.

She finally found it on the nightstand.

"There are only speculations we can make as no confirmation has been provided by the Police Department or the intelligence. The intensity of the blast was moderate but enough to kill each and every officer present in the two buildings...."

The words of the reporter sank later than the pictures being displayed on the screen. There were all twenty of them.

Five of whom she had personally worked with on her previous missions. Out of the five, two were the ones she recognised as friends, close friends.

The rest of the six were acquaintances and the others, she could barely remember their names.

But all of them were her colleagues.

Her colleagues with families to look after, one of them was expecting his first child in the world, and another was the only hope for her aged and ailing parents.

And now, they all were reduced to nothing but burnt flesh and ashes.

"Jagi, I thought you were in for a nice, relaxing bath, why are you crying?"

She had not taken notice of his presence first, it was only after he gently wiped her tears did she realise her predicament.

It was like she had blood in her hands.

"Why?"

When she looked at him with the question, his unreadable eyes expressed the unexpressed. There was no other thought in her mind.

"They were innocent—"

Jin cackled– one that sounded everything that she had heard before when it concerned an expression of glee. But felt like nothing she had felt before. One that could inspire unadulterated fear. It was sinister– mockingly sinister at its best.

She had fallen in love with a cruel, cold and evil man.

"You have known me for years now, have you not...(Y/N). Have I ever been forgiving to obstacles? They were the wall between us, our love."

And yet he claimed to love her.

"It was a small warning, Jagi. You know that I could do worse."

He was right. She knew him, after all.

"Now, we would not have to worry about some petty people in uniform trying to come after us. Don't think too much about this and tire yourself out."

He took the remote from her grasp with ease and switch the television off before gently leading her back to the bathroom.

(Y/N) was in a daze, letting him take her out of the bathrobe with ease before he put her back in the bathtub after moderating the temperature again. But when he joined her, the feeling of his warm skin rubbing against hers broke her daze, but the faces of her colleagues never vanished from her mind.

She heard him sigh as he pulled her over his lap, relaxing in the perfectly warm water, basking in the soothing fragrance of lavender and pines. It felt like once she closed her eyes, she would be somewhere else, somewhere beautiful.

But she did not dare to close them.

(Y/N) knew that the moment she closed her eyes, the faces of her friends and colleagues would flash in front of her.

She felt his body against hers, roaming hands, fingers drawing circles over her shoulder to comfort her. But none of them worked.

"I know that there is a lot of questions in your mind, so may dilemmas. But you will see Jagi. You will see how much far we have come. You chose me. You made the right choice."

His voice was that of a siren– hypnotic, melodious, but one that would lead its follower to their ultimate demise.

That was Kim Seokjin.

He told her once that she was the one for him, and they would grow old together.

She knew that he would have it no other way.

He was not afraid to spark a bloody battle for that. But there was no line to it. He did not care who or what the price was-- he would have what he wanted, where he wanted.

She realised when he turned her head to land a soft but promising kiss on her lips.

He wanted a battle?

His lips were soft but firm, his hand on the side of her neck left no room for backing away.

She would give him war.

She kissed him back, cautious, but not empty of thoughts.

***

The days were humid, and the nights invited light to moderate rainfall. Life in the relatively remote town was peaceful, in a nutshell. 

To live in innocuous obscurity, to work for nothing but to run her and her family was what (Y/N) needed after everything she and her sister had been through—her sister Chae, her only surviving family. The same family she had smashed someone’s heart for and perhaps ruined his life forever.

She might as well be a monster in his eyes. But with her experience through all this, she had learned that not all monsters were evil. And that just made everything much more complicated. 

She never knew Min Yoongi. 

Of course, she had heard of him, maybe even seen his pictures a handful of times, but never paid much attention. 

Not until Chae, her sweet little sister, and her only family, was diagnosed with an illness that was slowly swallowing her up. And (Y/N)’s regular office job could not pay the bills for too long. Their savings were running out, and the treatment and medicines were weighing heavy.

She was desperate.

Truly desperate

And truly desperate people never weigh morals, risks, or possibilities.

They take any chance given to them.

So did she, when a decorated officer offered her a chance to save her sister and find a better life for both of them.

She took the chance; it only took her a day to think through everything. They were paying for her sister’s treatment and the medical bills; they were to overlook Chae and her security, and the net money to be transferred into her bank account after the work was done was good enough.

That one offer had everything she desperately needed. Not desired. Needed.

She was never worried about herself– walking under the shadow of a man like Min Yoongi, she had to have courage. And she was courageous because she was desperate. Whatever she had heard of the man was foul deeds and evil temperament; she had never let that diminish her courage.

To the officers, Min Yoongi was a monster. A clever monster who needed to be pulled out of the sea.

It was for the betterment of society– she was not doing anything morally wrong if perceived through those lenses.

But that was the catch. 

People, morality and justice were not read through a single lens, they needed prisms to look at, to analyse.

She had learned that with her time spent with Min Yoongi. Her experience defied every other fact she had learned from her temporary employers. He was no monster. But as she dug deeper into his life and his personality, she discovered that the officers were no liars either. 

Min Yoongi was a monster after all. But he was not evil. Not every monster was evil, not every evil looked like a monster.

Min Yoongi was an intimidating man. True to the officers’ words, he was a dangerous man too. Before she knew it, she was already praying that the assumptions about him would be proven false and that she would never have to hear his deeds from his lips. 

The same lips that had kissed her so softly, the eyes that looked at her with such a distinct tenderness, closed when her fingers traced his scar. Her touch was soft, but his hold on her would be delicate. It always had been.

Until the doomed night. 

She was frozen with shock when she looked into his eyes– the same eyes that once held tenderness seemed to belong to a true predator. For the first time, she truly felt the danger that she was in.

She was in a lion’s den. Unarmed. Unprepared. But desperate.

She saw the shadow fall over his face, she truly saw why even a decorated officer would not like to mess with Min Yoongi without an intricate strategy and heavy backup.

And yet, she had mouthed ‘Run’ to him.

 As if she wanted him to get away. To be saved. 

Perhaps he did need a second chance— to be saved from the chilling darkness she had seen merging with him.

But she was no saint, and definitely not his saviour.

She was his doom. 

It was an opportunity too good, too bright a chance. And she took it. 

Yes, she had grown to care for him, even sympathise with him, more than she would like to admit. But she loved her sister. And she did whatever she needed to do to save her only family.

She had religiously avoided watching the news for months. Three months since she had settled into town with her little sister. She did not want to burden herself anymore.

I did what I needed to. We needed to survive.

She told herself again as she prepared warm milk for Chae along with her medicine. It had become kind of a ritual ever since that night.

“Chae, get off the tablet now. Time for bed.” She called out from the kitchen before making her way to their room from the kitchen with the tray with her.

“Just a few more minutes!”

(Y/N) could not help but feel uplifted by the sound of her sister’s chirpy voice, it had withered so pitifully once. But now, as she was recovering, their trips to the hospital had reduced from every three days to twice a month. 

“No. Screentime’s over. Give that to me.”

Despite her sister’s whining, she took the gadget from her tiny hands and replaced it with the cup of milk.

“Say ‘Aaa’”

Chae opened her mouth wide as (Y/N) put a circular tablet into it before helping her gulp it down.

She let out a soft sigh after she finished the cup– soft pink in shade with the partially protruding face of a smiling panda.

“Let’s get you to bed. Why don’t you show me how you make your bed before going to sleep?”

“Yes!” Chase jumped up, ready to show (Y/N) her newfound field of expertise.

“Look, you first, take off the pillows, clear off your bed…” She spoke as if there were cameras around, like the lifestyle shows and YouTube videos on ‘How to Do Household Chores Right’.

She had been watching such stuff lately. And while (Y/N) felt that her Chae might be a little too young to learn how to make pancakes, if her sister enjoyed the sense of independence and thrived in it, (Y/N) did not mind.

She watched her little sister work with a fond smile until she was done and was beaming with a smile that (Y/N) held the most precious to herself.

“And look, it's all done!”

(Y/N) clapped in appreciation and played along, before tucking her into bed and switching off the lights, keeping the nightlights that made the ‘Glow-in-the-dark’ wall stickers illuminate better before placing a goodnight kiss on the top of her and leaving the room.

—---

Laying on the bed after a long day felt good. She doubted that anything could even compare to the comfort and sense of safety a familiar, comfortable bed would provide after a long day of toil and trials.

Sighing, she let herself sink into a relaxed state of mind, welcoming the sleep that was rapidly filling her eyes– rapid but soft and—

Buzz! Buzz!

The vibration from her phone jerked her out of the sweet lull with a low gasp. Her senses stood alert as she blinked away the rest of the sleep. In the dark room, her phone’s screen illuminated in a way that there was no other way but to look at it. As if, it had a sense of urgency to it. as if it demanded for her to look into the text.

She knew, of course, that it was all but her imagination– the phone would not buzz a different way for different situations, and neither would it illuminate any brighter to alert her.

With a tired sigh and heavy eyes, she unlocked her phone and opened the message from an unknown number.

Indeed, it was a very important message.

—------

It was a nice place– at least nice in the sense that it served good food and had a warm and cosy atmosphere– something one would expect from a cafe in a fairly isolated town.

 Not many people visited the town, neither tourists knew about it. A perfect hiding corner in the country indeed. They had considered sending her out of the country, and they had assured her that once things settled down, they would.

But here was the thing– she depended on one of the officers to inform her if the ‘things had settled down’. (Y/N) had consciously avoided any news or updates regarding Min Yoongi. 

She was indeed afraid of coming across something upsetting. She already was miserable with guilt.

Sure, she never loved Min Yoongi, but she had grown to care for him, to understand him and truly see him for what he was– a love-starved, broken soul.

“So…” 

She began, eyeing the door and the road outside for any sign of a vehicle with red and blue sirens.

“Is there something to be worried about?”

In her time with Min Yoongi, she had mastered the art of poise, to some extent. However, she never had the chance to master her fear– she never felt the need to. It was an odd sense of safety in his company, she knew that nothing could touch her when she was with him.

But he was an exception.

The man in front of him was an officer in disguise. She remembered him for he had been closely associated with Mission Raven.

“I have not been keeping track of any news regarding—”

“There’s nothing on the news Ms (L/N). Nothing at all. That night, the police station blew off.”

She stilled, slowly processing his words.

“There was no record of his arrest because he was to be shifted to a bigger, more secure station overnight but…”

“So…So everyone there…”

The officer sighed and nodded.

“Min Yoongi was never found. What a coincidence.” He shook his head with a bitter chuckle “When I joined the police force, I thought that I was going to be a hero– help the people in need, bring justice…That night, when my eyes met Min Yoongi’s, I felt my resolve faltering for the second time in my life.” 

He shook his head with a sardonic tilt of his lips.

“The first time was while I shot a criminal dead.” He added before taking a sip of the coffee that no longer had steam rising from its surface. “Overall, I am glad that I and two of my teammates had gone out for a cigarette break…So we survived.” 

He gulped and eyed his surroundings with a subtle nervousness that made her heart thrum with warnings.

“Though I have been transferred to some other city, I thought that I must warn you. I waited, did not want him to track you down. Miss (L/N), I suggest that you leave with your sister tonight, and leave the country as soon as you can. Min Yoongi’s men killed every person in the building. We hid, but we saw him walk out, saw them walk out…Oh–look, please don’t panic.”

It was when his flow broke did she realised that her cheeks were damp with tears.

“(Y/N), are you alright?” The young officer frowned in concern.

“I…I need to lea-ve.”She cracked up, as her voice crumbled. 

With quivering legs and hands, she rose from her chair, uncaring of the loud scraping.

“I can drop you.” He offered.

“No…No, you…you should leave. We are no longer safe. Are we?” 

The officer pursed his lips before shaking his head.

Picking up his card from the desk, along with her handbag, she rushed out of the place, gasping for breaths. She thought she might feel better with some fresh air in her lungs. But she had no time to think. She simply rushed to her car and drove away.

(Y/N) felt like she was in a daze.

It felt like a bad dream. An ominous one.

But it was no omen, it was no dream.

It was real.

During her two years with Min Yoongi, she came to understand him to some extent. Nothing slipped past his mind, ever. 

A favour or a betrayal, he paid his debts. With interest.

And she had gifted him, on that night, one of the worst betrayals a man could endure. She had seen love in his eyes before that doomed night.

But that night, he had the misfortune to witness the flicker of madness– simmering, still tame, in control. There was an odd gleam in his eyes– one that reminded her why Min Yoongi was so feared after all.

Hastily parking her car, she rushed out of the vehicle and into her house. The setting sun cast an amber glow into the sky that was gradually descending into deep blue and lavender. It might rain heavily– not ideal for travelling, but she had no other option. 

They had no other—

As soon as she entered the apartment, her thoughts turned silent.

 Everything felt tense.

For once, her heart skipped a beat. But she was reassured by reminding herself that Chae would be usually taking a nap by this time. 

For once, she thought that she finally had the peace she had always craved. But now as she moved towards Chae’s room to wake her up, she realised how wrong she had been.

With a plan still under construction in her spiralling mind, she opened the door to Chae’s room. The blinds were pulled down, plunging the room into an unusual darkness.

“Chae?” She called out tentatively before switching on the night light.

She noticed her sister’s face first, eyes closed and limbs hanging– and then the body–no, the man who had her in his arms.

Her mind, her thoughts, and her senses plunged into a heavy silence. A silence so profound that (Y/N) could hear a low but unending beep in her ears.

She could see the outline of a back, along with the hair just teasing his shoulders. She would recognise the profile anywhere, at any time. But when the man finally turned, she could not help but take a step back, gluing herself to the wall, under the shadows as her breathing hitched.

There was nothing significantly different, at least whatever view the limited light provided her with showed that. But somehow, his form seemed to swallow every corner of the room. The scar that ran through his eyes till his upper cheek was almost faded out by the shades of blue the nightlight provided.

But she could see his smirk– a crooked, twisted smirk that made her whimper. A sudden gleam had her eyes dropping to his hand that held her sister with a silver gun flat on her back, his forefinger already on the trigger.

“You never told me about your sister…(Y/N).” He drawled, and she thought his truest, rawest nature stood before her.

A predator that loved to chase but also took its time.

“No…No!” Her voice came out as strangled as her brittle knees gave out

“Shhh, you’ll wake her up. I read out a story to her before tucking her in.”

His voice was calm, hushed and steady– a sinister melody attached to it, following his movements as he looked above her. She had not even noticed the two men standing behind her. It was only after they walked past her and took her sleeping sister in their arms that the wheels began to turn in her head.

“W-where are you taking her? No!” With skidding legs and blurred vision, she rushed to them, trying to pry her sister away from them, only to be pulled back by the man whose presence overpowered everyone and everything in the house.

“Yoongi, please! She’s innocent, punish me but—”

Her words were caught in her throat when his gaze held hers. She was looking into the eyes of a creature of the night. The blue light only enhanced the sinister shade his face carried. He was perhaps paler, broader yet his face seemed sharper. No trace of softness.

“You know how many times I dreamt of that night over and over again?” He pushed her closer, so close that she could feel his quivering breath– as if he was barely restraining himself.

“My sister needed—”

“They were simply fishing for the right victim and you just took the bait. What do you think, they would come to ‘save’ you? They don’t fucking care!” He spat.

Under the nightlight, he looked rogue, savage, unfearing.

“You are a criminal Yoongi.” She had no idea where she had found the strength to speak those words, but she did.

He smiled coldly “Of course I am, Love. The one they fear and now won’t dare challenge. You see, there is nothing between us now.”

 Her wall of protection had disappeared. (Y/N) knew that she could never depend on them for long, but everything toppling overnight? She had not seen this coming.

“You betrayed me, but also saved me.” He concluded and she felt his hold tightening on her arms like a python.

“No, Yoongi…I didn’t save you. I am not your saviour Yoongi.”

“Oh, Love…I cannot be saved anyway, I don’t want to be…All that is left for you is to accept me as I am. No ifs and buts.”

But how? She never wanted this…She never loved him!

“Y-Yoongi…I don’t–I don’t love you…”, 

The silence made her stomach flip. But her proximity to him made her fear for her life. 

“They really had filled your mind with filth…” He drawled before she felt the iron grip of his fingers on her jaws. It was not instantly painful, but with each passing moment, the ache rose.

“Look at me, look into my eyes and tell me.”

 The simmering ambre flared into an all-engulfing fire in his eyes. Some strands of his hair fell forward, exposing the deranged lover that hid behind the poised man.

She peered into the rage and chaos simmering in his feline eyes- dark but raging with emotions, yet hollowed with loneliness.

“I cared Yoongi, I always did. That is why I wanted you to survive. I wanted you to run, despite knowing who you were, I wanted you to run. But I could never love you.”

It was an odd amalgamation– she feared him, yet pitied him. He, to her, resembled a lost predator. Surviving, hunting, doing what he was born to do…but lost, alone.

“Please Yoongi…Let Chae go…She’s a child. Let us go.” She begged again, her hopes flaring when his hold on her loosened, hands falling to his side as he took a step back.

He only chuckled and looked away. 

“I guess our past actions do have consequences…” 

In the silence, his lowly voice sounded ominous 

“And I must reap them…” He paused before turning back to her “But so would you.”.

She watched the simmering ambre erupting into an all-consuming volcano before he tapped on the earpiece attached to his left ear.

“Is the child with you? Okay, take out your gun and shoot her when I command.”

“NO! NO! Yoongi, please! No”

She was already on her knees, she did not care as long as her only family was safe. His cold eyes peered down at her with a chilling poise before he bent down a bit and cupped her cheek, breaking the neverending stream of tears.

“Wipe off the tears and come with me. If anyone suspects something, you sweet little sister will pay.”

(Y/N) sat frozen, not even registering the thrumming on her knees.

Maybe she was wrong–

Min Yoongi was a monster after all.

And monsters were unforgiving creatures.

—------

Min Yoongi knew that he was not a saint.

He was not a kind man.

But he was also not evil. Not to the people he loved, truly loved and cared for. And definitely not to the love of his life.

He had no shame in admitting– he was a monster- the worst of them all. A walking, talking, repulsive nightmare.

 But he loved her. He had forgiven her the very night he was ‘arrested’. 

How could he not, when she looked at him with more kindness than he had ever known in this world?

But when she outrightly refused to have ever loved him, the illusion began to crack. 

“They were right about you…I never believed them until now but now I do. You truly are an evil monster.”

She had whispered those words to him as soon as they were in his estate. Even with tears in them, her eyes were cold and raging.

“I could never love a monster like you!” She finally spat out when he refused to let her see her sister.

And he snapped. Something deep, dark, territorial and unhinged gnawed its way out. 

But he only smirked. Even though he could feel the dull ache behind his eyes, a strange pit in his stomach, he smirked and let it grow into a chuckle.

He must have had his true face out as she took a step back with fear blooming in her teary eyes– he was a deranged, diabolic bastard. With each step he took to close the distance between them, she took several away, until the back of her knees bumped with the bed.

Pulling her flush against himself, he leaned near her ear.

“The officers who aided you are already six feet under the ground– half burnt, half crushed, but dead anyway. All you can do is believe in every word they told you about me…I am indeed a monster, honey. He worst one you will ever know. And you will have to live with this monster. No government, no decorated officer would dare to save you.”

He felt her stiffen and shiver like frightened prey. Indeed, she had fallen prey to his love. He made peace with their reality. She would too.

 Humans were adaptive creatures after all.

—--------

The hanging lights on the ceiling were pretty– the crystals shining under the moonlight, but they seemed to swing slightly.

It was only an illusion, of course. It was she, who moved, and the bed while the man above her remained still, revelling at the sight of her rocking hips, spread legs and parted mouth with the dazed bliss in her eyes.

She could only watch the chandelier instead of looking into his eyes with the victorious gleam in them and the sadistic twinkle on watching her fall apart.

“Look into my eyes, Jagi.” 

And she did before hot white pleasure surged through her.

“There there, aren’t you the most beautiful of all brides out there?”

“Why can’t I meet my own sister?” (Y/N) was only a thread away from screaming her lungs out all the awful things she could think of at the moment.

Yoongi simply sat, nursing his scotch on rocks, idly watching the part of the vast garden visible from his home office. The place that only a few had access to, the place she had barged in, his guards chasing after her, pleading for her to stop lest they would bear Mr Min’s wrath.

But she could not have it in herself to care. She had not seen or even heard of her Chae for two days in the gigantic estate.

When Yoongi finally looked at her, his stoic stare made something unpleasant steer within her. His eyes assessed her with a flick before it turned steely.

“Why are you in your bed clothes?” It was akin to a sneer. Or maybe it was.

The fact was, she did not give a fuck.

“What have you done to my sis–”

“Have you walked all the way here in this?”

She was wearing a thin camisole under a nightgown reaching beyond her knee. It was of satin material that was tightly knotted but had a plunging neckline she had never cared about. 

She did not understand why this bothered him so much. She knew that he was twisted but this was madness.

“I want to see Chae! I have not even heard of her since I–you brought us here.”

Only she knew the anxiety clawing her from within

“She needs to take her medicines regularly Yoongi. She’s just eight, she is a child, an innocent child who needs me.” 

Even when she would ask the guards, servants, or maids, they would not respond to her question– that was the only question they refrained from speaking about her sister, or even taking her name. 

If Yoongi had the intention to break her down in a slow, painful way, he was on the right track.

He rose from the chair and walked to her “I assure you that she is safe and sound– she will take all her medicines on time, they will take good care of her.” 

“Th-they?” 

She did not even notice his other hand reaching for her until he wiped the single tear that had slipped from her eyes.

“The school staff. I have sent Chae to Rosenberg.”

“Indeed, you are.”

She felt his fingers slipping away before hearing the embarrassing squelching. Her eyes had closed without her notice, ready to fall into a blissful slumber. It was the second time he had pushed her over the edge of white pleasure. 

But she was wrong to think that he was anywhere near done.

Feeling the tight knot snap, she withered under him, eyes still closed, mind still hazy. 

Before the swing of the pleasurable high could slow down, she vaguely felt him putting her boneless legs over his shoulder before the ticking sensation between her thighs alerted her.

(Y/N)’s eyes snapped open, just in time when she felt something wet glide over her opening. The protest bubbling up to her tongue fizzled out like a burning matchstick against a storm and the only thing left for her was to moan instead– no matter how much she wished to resist it, she could not help the signs of pleasure tearing out of her mouth.

At first, she felt the odd but pleasurable sensation, almost flinching and jumping away. But under him, with his hands tight on her thighs, almost spilling the flesh between his fingers, it was difficult to even move. All she could do was to let her hands grip his hair. He did not seem to mind much.

His tongue focused on flicking her clit for a while, making her jolt each time with quivering gasps and moistening womanhood. This man surely knew how to overwhelm her own emotions.

“Ro-Rosember?”

“Rosenberg– Institut auf dem Rosenberg. It tops the list for a refined and elite schools, your sister will flourish there.” 

He held an air of nonchalance around him as he refilled his glass. Yet Yoongi’s eyes never left her form.

(Y/N) licked her lips. Was it possible to get randomly admitted to any prestigious school so soon in the country?

“So, she will be going to a new school? I can meet her then, right?”

“I think you don’t understand Jagi. It is an elite boarding school, the best of the best. It’s in Switzerland. I sent her there yesterday.”

“You…You sent my Chae to…Switzerland?”

 She had to repeat the words herself in order to fully grasp the situation. Yoongi sent her baby sister, who needed constant supervision and regular check-ups to another country-- to a boarding school she had never heard of.

“I have sent them the details and the list of precautions and medications. Besides that, I have connections, Jagi, she will be safe there.”

By the time he finished speaking, her legs turned lifeless and she found the floor. The warmth of the carpet could not subdue the sudden waves of chills and goosebumps enveloping her form.

“You sent her away from me…”

“I gave her a good life. Imagine if it were someone else in my place, Jagi…He would have gifted you your sister’s head first before taking yours.” 

He bent down in smooth, silent motion before whispering to her with his arms holding her in faux reassurance.

Her eyes rolled back before the rawness of her throat was registered only after the rocking of her hips had slowed down. Her ears still echoed the short but sharp scream that had forced its way out of her throat like he had been forcing the pleasure out of her.

Her vision was blurry with the mix of tears and haze, but she could see him smirking– smug but somewhat unhinged.

Maybe he was indeed unhinged and cruel. He had punished her– not for her apparent betrayal. But for not loving him the way he had believed she would.

Min Yoongi had closed all doors for her, leaving her with no option but to hold on to the diamond wedding ring that now had its fangs buried on her ring finger– just as Min Yoongi had his claws buried in her life.

“Look at you~” 

She heard him coo as her head fell back on the pillow, her movement growing slow and her eyes heavy.

“What has the child done to you? She needs me!” (Y/N) cried out in anguish.

Yet it did nothing to deter his cold gaze or falter the ghost of a smirk he sported with pride.

“Nothing Love, the child has done nothing. I am not her foe. I am giving her the life millions would die for– the best of the best. I would see to it all. But when would you see her again is in your hands Jagi.”

She frowned and blinked through her tears. Up close, his scar did manage to make him appear more sinister than anyone she had ever met before.

“What are you saying?”

“I love you Jagi, there is no limit, no boundary that I would not cross for you. You can meet her after we are married and you give birth to our first child. So it depends on you how soon you can do that.”

He sealed her fate with the offer. But she wondered, how could a confession of love make one’s heart quiver with fear?

“I love you, Jagi, you have no idea how much I do.”

She could smell the sweat and musk as he leaned down to kiss her forehead before guiding his manhood to enter her. Slow, but sure, a contrast of stiffness and tenderness that both frightened and baffled her.

“Oh—” (Y/N)’s voice quivered as she held onto Yoongi’s shoulders in order to keep herself grounded. It was devastating; it was delicious, it was almost divine.

But she knew that this was no more than a nefarious act of him sinking his sharp teeth into her– held down under his thumb forever. He had the advantage, the power and the last word. He was the lion, she was a helpless, powerless prey his claws dug into.

Min Yoongi was a man of his word. 

He had told her once that he would marry her and live in his newly bought estate; they were indeed married, fucking on the bed that was flown all the way from a different country.

—---

The headlines flashed on the screen while wheels turned in her head. She sat stiffly without any movements as she watched the news.

“What are you watching?”

As if he were conjured, he walked into their room, some sandwiches on a plate, wearing the most innocuous-looking clothes. He had taken two months off from ‘work’, wishing to spend some quality time with his wife.

One week into the marriage, she was already wearing down. Both emotionally and physically. She doubted if there was any room in the mansion left where he had not taken her, or was there any corner of her mind where he had not wiggled his way into. 

“Your company is taking responsibility for constructing new police quaters and renovating the old ones?”

“Yes, why are you so surprised?”

“There are others, older candidates. Why would they give the project to you?”

Yoongi smiled and sat down beside her.

 “You are so smart, Jagi. It would be a sin to hide anything from my wife, would that not? Let's just say me and the Internal Affairs Ministry are friends now.” 

He leaned in and kissed her cheek before handing her the sandwich he had put his time making.

“So, no one disrupts me now. For a long time.”

“You did this to make sure that no one comes searching for me, right?”

He grinned. 

“I love you (Y/N). There is no limit that I would not cross for you. Eat up, I have a really good movie for us. You will love it. After that, we can have lunch, all your favourites.

He went on, while she spiralled further. Any hope of getting out of there was crushed then and there. 

He had not taken his time to track her down. He had taken his time to plan. And execute the plan thoroughly. Tracking her down was child’s play for him.

Min Yoongi was indeed a monster—a clever, stubborn and dangerous monster.

And she was in his realm, and she was there to stay. He would make sure of that.

***

The rest of the parts will be published shortly. I am facing problems in saving the draft.

A very Happy New Year to all of you!

Banner by @cafekitsune

Don't Fear the Reaper

Scream AU

pairing: taehyung x reader

genre: yandere, horror/thriller

warnings: murder, graphic violence, mature themes, obsessive behavior, sexual content

word count: 13k

summary/preview: Just a year since your brother’s brutal murder, bad luck seems to strike again in your once-peaceful hometown. It seems as if death wants to follow you as it finds its next victim in one of your school friends. The more the murders start to connect, you begin to wonder if it really could be just a copycat killer or if the wrong man was imprisoned.

quick note: this is very unedited so pls excuse any mistakes!! ty🖤

It had been almost a year since your brother’s death and you still couldn’t believe it was real. His bedroom door had been practically sealed shut, neither you nor your father daring to venture inside. The sight of his empty room getting dusty would have just made it that much more real - something the both of you didn’t need as the constant news coverage had done enough of that job already.

It wasn’t necessarily that you were so distraught over Seowon’s death that you couldn’t come to terms with it. He was your older brother, your own blood, but that didn’t mean the two of you had been the closest siblings. You would describe your relationship over the years as lukewarm at best. You loved him because he was your brother but you never truly felt like you knew him. It was also hard to mourn with news vans following you everywhere you went.

The part that was hard to believe was the way in which he had died. He had been found in the woods near your house with seventeen stab wounds. It didn’t make any sense. Your brother had been a star football player at your school, part of the popular crowd. He was well-liked amongst students and teachers. You didn’t think anyone had a bad opinion of him. It’s possible he had rivals especially in sports or romances but nothing that would warrant murder.

Initially, there had been a lot of speculation in the town and you had heard all the rumors, including the one where your father had killed him in a fit of rage. You knew it could never be true; your father had been devastated by your brother’s death. He had been emotionless before, but now he was just a shell of the man he was. And whoever said loss could bring people closer had obviously never met your father.

The truth was that your father had always been emotionally closed for as long as you had known him. Your mother had died from complications after your birth and though he had never voiced it, you knew that he had resented you for being the cause of your mother’s death. At times, you wished you had never been born because living with the guilt had been too much to bear especially living with a father who never forgave you for it. 

When the police eventually did find a suspect, you were shocked to say the least. Min Yoongi was a few years older than you and had already graduated when the murder weapon as well as your brother’s blood on his clothing was found. He had always been a serious guy and if you asked most people, they would say they had always believed he kept skeletons in his closet. You knew he was a bit of a recluse, but you never would have guessed he was capable of murder. The motive they came up with was that Yoongi had been jealous of your brother’s popularity and mixed with his own mental instability, things inevitably came to a day and he decided to act out his aggressions.

Many people wanted to know your side of it, whether you believed the story and whatnot. You had mostly stayed silent on the matter, unlike your father who had screamed at Yoongi in court and had to be dragged out of the room. You can still remember the stares you got from everyone that day - it was the same look you got from most of the town and your classmates. A mix of pity, curiosity, and judgment.

It was safe to say you hadn’t been looking forward to this time of year. The true crime fanatics had seemingly been ramping up their shenanigans, hoping to possibly find some clue that would connect more of the dots. The stares you always felt in town and at school hadn’t lessened and seemed to be picking up a bit more in recent weeks as the anniversary drew closer.

Which is why most nights, you would find yourself holed up in your bedroom where it was calmer. Much to your best friend's dismay, as she would always try to drag you away to some party or school outing. Haena hated it when you closed yourself off and didn’t believe in wallowing alone. In her eyes, it was as if your introvertedness was just a sickness that she had to cure.

The only person who understood your feelings was your boyfriend, Taehyung. He, too, was a bit of a homebody and didn’t mind staying in with you most nights. He did have more friends and liked to party, but he never pressured you to go out. Part of you believed he enjoyed having you all to himself that way and for some reason you didn’t mind it.

You don’t know how you got so lucky getting a boyfriend like Taehyung. He was so dreamy with dark black locks that were often tucked behind his ear and matching dark eyes that seemed to always be on you. He was an artist and could often be found wearing distressed jeans and sweaters with little splotches of paint here and there. He was extremely affectionate, always having to have his hands on you some way or another.

The two of you met in freshman year art class where you had quickly realized you had no business holding a paintbrush, much to Taehyung’s amusement. He would offer to fix up your paintings when the teacher wasn’t looking and was the only reason you ended up passing. It wasn’t until a little after that semester that the two of you started dating.

A low tapping interrupted your thoughts as you sat in bed, almost too quiet to hear over the television playing in your room. You got up to investigate, pulling your curtains open to see none other than Taehyung leaning up against your window using a ladder to get up here. You weren’t even sure if that ladder was yours but you were glad your window didn’t face the street where others could see.

You opened the window as you spluttered in shock, stepping back to allow him room to clamber inside. You held your breath as you kept an ear out to make sure your dad hadn’t heard his nosy arrival, eyes trained on the door like he would bust in any moment.

“What are you doing here?” You hissed once you had regained your composure.

“What, I can’t visit my girlfriend?” Taehyung pouted. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too but if my dad catches you-” “He won’t.” Taehyung cut you off, leveling you with his beautiful dark eyes as he leaned closer to you on the bed. “I’m stealthy.”

You breathed out a sigh, at a loss for words from his sudden close proximity. He reminded you of a tiger the way he stared you down like you were prey. You were so mesmerized by him you had missed him inching closer until you could feel his breath on your lips.

“Tae-” You tried to stop him but he shushed you, pressing his mouth to yours.

Taehyung was your first serious boyfriend and there hadn’t been a single dull moment in your relationship yet. For you, every new experience you had with him had been a thrill. But there was only so many heated makeouts you two could have before you knew he would want to do more. He understood you were inexperienced and was willing to wait but you wondered how much longer before he cracked.

As if on cue, his hand grazed your thigh lightly as if to test the waters. When you didn’t stop him, he grew more confident and raised it until it reached your hip, squeezing gently. You appeared calm on the outside but on the inside, your heart was racing.

He pulled back a bit to look you in the eyes, licking his lips as he smirked. “I can feel your heartbeat.”

Your eyes widened in embarrassment as you quickly sat up, covering your cheeks as you felt them heating. You had hoped it wouldn’t have been so obvious. Why couldn’t you just be normal? 

“Still so nervous around me after all this time,” He chuckled wryly, lifting a hand to remove the ones covering your face. His fingers caressed your cheek as he gazed at you. “What can I do to make you more comfortable, baby?”

“I’m sorry.” You breathed, feeling your heart skip at all the intense eye contact. “I just need more time.”

“Don’t be sorry. I told you I would wait.” He gave you a small smile, leaning in to give you another kiss. He brushed a hand through your hair before pulling away and making his way back over to the window.

You watched him begin his descent back down to the ground before an idea popped into your head. You don’t know where the sudden confidence came from but the sight of his retreating back made you want to try something.

“Taehyung,” You called out from the window once he had made it all the way down. He looked back up at you curiously, his eyebrows raised in question. “Something to hold you over for now?”

You didn’t wait for him to reply before you lifted your shirt up, exposing your breasts to him from down below. You waited a few nerve wracking seconds before pulling it back down, giggling nervously as you did.

His look of pure shock made it all worth it, preventing any possible embarrassment from flooding into your system. You could tell your stunt had rendered him speechless for a moment, if the choked sputters coming from him were anything to go by.

“I think you just made it worse.” He finally spoke, his voice deep and chilling. You laughed loudly, moving to shut your window closed.

*****

When you arrived at school the next day, the atmosphere was tenser than usual. You were used to people whispering around you but this was different. People seemed to be more huddled in groups. It was as if there was some unseen sinister presence that had arrived. You weren’t sure if you could just blame it on the seasons changing but there definitely seemed to be a chill in the air this morning.

A hand grabbing your arm on your way through the courtyard startled you, your heart jumping only to see it was just Haena. Her eyes were wide as she squeezed your forearm urgently. You could tell just by her expression that whatever was going on was serious.

“Are you okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Your confusion was obvious as you watched realization dawn on her.

“You haven’t heard...” She paused as if trying to find the right words, biting her lip unsurely. “YN, some students were murdered last night.”

“What? Who?” The shock spread throughout your body like a numbness, your extremities feeling cold all of the sudden.

“Park Jimin and Yoon Iseul.”

You weren’t sure if any names that could possibly come out of her mouth would not come as a shock but this just floored you. Jimin and Iseul were the school’s power couple. Everyone was in love with them or wanted to be their friend. The correlation between their deaths and your brother’s wasn’t lost on you. Could it be a copycat killer? You didn’t want to think of the alternative - that Yoongi had been wrongfully imprisoned.

“That must be why everyone is acting so strange today.” You mumbled mindlessly, hearing the words coming out of your mouth but not feeling connected with them. “I just saw Iseul yesterday in sixth period.”

“It’s all I’ve been hearing about this morning. How Iseul’s parents came home to the grizzliest scene you can imagine. They said Jimin was tied up and they found Iseul out- '' Her chattering stopped upon seeing the sick look on your face, her lips pressing together as if just now realizing who she was speaking to. You didn’t blame her though - you knew she was just in shock. “Well, you get the gist. Apparently a neighbor saw the killer run out of there wearing some kind of weird ghost mask. Now everyone’s calling them ‘Ghostface.’”

“I don’t understand why this keeps happening.”

At some point in the day, you were called to the principal’s office for questioning. This wasn’t strange, though, as everyone in the entire school was going through the same thing. The police figured their first place to look was at the school, which made sense.

They had asked you simple questions like how well you knew Jimin and Iseul, if you knew if they were in any drama at school, etc. You had answered honestly and as accurately as you could. To be honest, you hadn’t the slightest who could have done something like this. But you could sense the detectives figured you might have some clue as you had been around death before. They looked at you like you had some kind of ghost hanging around you.

You decided that going through your day like you always did was the best shot at getting through it, clinging to any shred of normalcy that you could find. And if that meant having lunch with Haena and her usual friend group, then so be it. The seven of you were sitting outside in the courtyard, the climate having warmed up a bit since this morning.

The boys were goofing off with each other as if nothing was wrong, which in a way comforted you. You needed to act like everything was okay or else you could feel your sanity start to slip. Eyeing Haena, she was chatting with Jungkook while throwing her feet in his lap. He was rubbing her lower calves and you couldn’t help but watch how comfortable they were with each other in public like this.

It gave you the courage to lean back onto Taehyung who was sitting behind you, his warm chest a welcome embrace. He responded by wrapping his arms around your front, not missing a beat as he conversed with Hobi about the quiz they took this morning.

“Did they ask you guys if you liked to hunt?” Hobi asked all of the sudden, the idle chatter dying down as you all knew he was talking about the police interrogations all students had to partake in today.

“Yeah, I just told them I liked to fish.” Jin barked out a laugh.

You wondered out loud, “Why would they ask that?”

“Because their bodies were gutted.” Hobi responded matter-of-factly, turning to Jin with a suspicious look. “Kind of like a fish.”

“Thank you, Hobi.” Taehyung spoke sarcastically and you could practically feel his eye roll from behind you.

“They didn’t ask me about hunting,” Haena frowned in confusion.

“You think a girl could have pulled off a murder like that? Yeah, right.” Jungkook chuckled, wiggling his eyebrows at her in a condescending manner.

Haena scoffed in disgust, pulling her legs off his lap. “That is so sexist of you. Plenty of women become serial killers - look at Aileen Wuornos.”

“She used a gun on her male-only victims. Not exactly the same.”

“Yeah, from what I hear Jimin and Iseul were barely recognizable by the time they found them.” Jungkook informed, seemingly undeterred by Haena’s annoyance. “The fact is that it would take a man to do something like that.”

“How do you gut someone?” Your voice trembled as you voiced the question, your curiosity getting the best of you. Taehyung tightened his arms around you and leaned his head on your neck, leaving a kiss there.

It was silent for a moment before Jungkook spoke up, “Well, you’d get a knife and start from the groin-”

“Jungkook, shut the fuck up.” Taehyung’s harsh tone left no room for argument and even made you tense up a bit.

“Didn’t you date Iseul?” You asked Jungkook.

His eyes lit up for a moment as he chuckled, “Yeah, for like two seconds.”

“Before she dumped him for Jimin!” Hobi chimed in. “Hmm, I wonder how the police would feel if they knew you were her lover scorned.”

“What, you think I killed her?” Jungkook laughed genuinely, shaking his head in disbelief. “I’m sure you would love to see me behind bars but I’m afraid I have an alibi.”

Haena rolled her eyes as Jungkook winked at her, fed up with his immaturity. “If you think I’m going to defend your misogynistic ass, you’re sorely mistaken.”

Jungkook watched her with a pout as she stood up to leave, gathering her books for the next class. “Come on, baby! You know I’m not a killer.”

She ignored him as she walked off, which led to him jumping up and following her to no doubt get back in her good graces. Those two had been on-and-off for a while but you would be lying if you said their shenanigans weren’t entertaining. He was a pig-headed jock and she was an artsy type. They didn’t make any sense but somehow they ended up together.

*****

You went home that day to an empty house and a note on the kitchen table, which both surprised you and somehow didn’t. You were used to your father skipping out on you with no notice but to leave a note? That wasn’t like him.

Got a lead for a job out of town so I’ll be gone for a few days. I’ll try to call but might not have service -Dad 

You supposed the message was emotionally detached enough to be from him but you couldn’t help the strange feeling you got from reading it. You knew he probably wouldn’t call or if he did, it would be just to let you know he was staying longer. He knew you didn’t expect much from him and probably preferred it that way. Weirdly enough, you did too.

Exhausted from the day, you threw your bag on the floor and collapsed on the couch. You flipped the TV on and surfed through the channels mindlessly before one with a news headline and familiar face caught your eye. It was a reporter that you recognized almost immediately - Kim Namjoon. He had covered your brother’s case extensively and even wrote a book about it.

“ This small but mighty town has been hit yet again with another gruesome homicide case. Two young teenagers were found brutally murdered in their own home. ” He spoke clearly, his dragon-eyes penetrating you through the TV screen. You had seen them in person and knew how deadly their effect could be. “ Authorities have yet to release any statement but we know now that no arrest has been made and the murderer could strike again. ”

“ Could it be merely just a coincidence that this month is the anniversary of yet another senseless killing? It has been only ten months since Min Yoongi was found guilty for the murder of Jung Wooshik, who was also a student at Woodsboro High. ” Namjoon continued, and you held your breath as you waited for him to say what you had been fearing. “ Many have made a few theories on what could be the meaning of this, including that of a possible copycat killer or perhaps a wrongful imprisonment. It’s safe to say the town of Woodsboro needs to stay vigilant on protecting its own. ”

You cut him off there, not wanting to hear any more. Namjoon had made it clear early on that he was doubtful of Yoongi being the killer and spent most of his news coverage with that perspective. You tried not to take it personally but there had been instances where it seemed like the reporter blamed you for what happened. You knew you weren’t directly responsible for Yoongi’s conviction but you couldn’t help but wonder if you should feel guilty. You had only told the truth to the judge, that you had seen Yoongi by your house the day your brother died. That your brother had bought some weed from him and that you had seen him leaving while your brother was still alive. What happened between then and when your brother was killed was completely unknown to you.

But your witness testimony along with the physical evidence found in Yoongi’s home and car had been enough to convict him. You can still vividly remember the expression on Yoongi’s face when the verdict was given, as though he hadn’t even heard the judge. You couldn’t help but be amazed at his absolute indifference to everything going on around him at all times. You had never seen him smile or get angry ever. He kept all his emotions inside and it only fueled to make you more unsure of him.

The sound of the phone ringing loudly next to you made you jump, hand laying on your chest to feel your racing heart. You took a deep breath before you answered, “Hello?”

“YN, I just wanted to check on you and make sure you got home okay.” Of course it was just Haena. You knew she worried about you especially when you were home with your father.

“Yeah, I’m okay. My dad’s left town apparently so I’ve got the place to myself.”

“Oh shit, really?” She sounded stunned by this. “Didn’t he hear the news?”

“Not sure. Although knowing him, he might have just wanted to get away from all the media craziness.”

“Do you want to stay at my place?” As if she could sense your hesitance, she continued in a more serious tone, “I know you probably think I’m being dramatic but I just don’t think you should be alone right now.”

“Okay.” You relented, agreeing that it was probably best to not be isolated and vulnerable with a killer on the loose.

You ran upstairs to pack some clothes for the week, unsure of how long you would be staying there. The thought occurred to you that you should probably let Taehyung know where you would be going just in case he tried to make another surprise sneak-in on you again. You picked up your phone and dialed his number. It rang one time before immediately going to voicemail, causing you to pull the phone back and look at it in confusion. It wasn’t like him to outright reject your call, so you tried again. This time it rang all the way through before going to voicemail. 

“Huh, that’s weird.” You waited for the automated voice to end and the beep to sound before leaving him a message informing him of where you would be tonight as well as Haena’s home number in case he needed to reach you later.

When you got to Haena’s house a little while later, you weren’t exactly sure why you felt uneasy all of the sudden seeing the police vehicle in her driveway. Her dad was Sheriff Lee and he had always been like a father to you, more so than your own father anyway. But just seeing his car again after so long and knowing he was in there was dredging up old memories that you had tried to forget.

Haena answered the door with a bright grin and pulled you inside excitedly. You already knew you were in for an eventful next few days, especially with her two younger brothers who were always loud and rambunctious. But oddly enough, you found that you enjoyed being around such a loving and busy household because that had never been your home experience.

You were greeted by warm hugs from Mrs. Lee before she quickly sat you down for dinner with a plate full of food. Haena rolled her eyes at her mom’s antics especially when she realized she was not included in this display of special treatment and would have to make her own plate. At some point, Sheriff Lee rolled in and you could tell by the tired lines on his face that this week had taken a toll on him.

He still greeted you with a smile and a pat on the head before joining you all at the table. Mrs. Lee brought her husband a plate and you couldn’t help but watch as he grabbed her hand to give it a kiss. The two of them had always been a sweet couple and what with your lack of ever seeing that growing up, you were always fascinated by them.

“How’s your father doing, YN?” Haena’s father asked.

“Fine,” You answered, rolling a cherry tomato around on your plate with your fork. “He’s actually on a work trip this week so Haena convinced me to come stay here for a little while if that’s okay.”

“You know you’re always welcome here, honey. You’re practically family.” Mrs Lee was quick to reassure you.

“Work trip, huh?” Sheriff Lee’s eyebrows were drawn together as he held a spoonful of stew in front of him thoughtfully. “Did he mention where?”

“Nope. You know how he is,” You answered honestly and he nodded.

Just then, the phone rang and Mrs. Lee got up to go answer it. You were about to go clean your dish when she came back into the kitchen and said, “YN, someone’s on the phone for you.”

You quickly went over to go pick it up, “Hello?”

“YN,” Taehyung’s deep voice came through on the other line, sounding hushed and slightly out-of-breath. “I just got your message.”

“Oh, yeah well I just didn’t want you to go worrying if you called me and I didn’t answer. Haena’s family is taking care of me.”

“Yeah? That’s good.” He responded, and you could practically picture him posted up somewhere like the cool guy he was. “Although, I wish I had answered when you called because I could have kept you company.”

“I’m sure you would have liked that.” You chuckled. “I don’t think my heart can handle another one of your window sneak-ins.”

“Well, I don’t think my heart can handle being away from you that long.”

“You’ll still see me at school.” You reasoned, rolling your eyes despite him not being able to see you.

“Yeah but that’s school. You won’t even let me kiss you unless it’s somewhere hidden.” You could practically hear his pout through the receiver. “Why don’t you meet me at your place sometime this week? I’ll cook you dinner and we can finally be alone together.”

You couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed at his sudden pushiness to get you alone. You knew if you agreed to meet him at your house that he would probably try to have sex with you again. As much as you wanted to take that step with him, you were scared.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea, what with the recent murders and all. I think it’s probably best to stay in larger groups.”

“What, you don’t think I can protect you? I know I’m skinny but I’m strong.”

“No I know you can but it’s just not a good time right now.”

“Yeah, I know. You haven’t been yourself in a while.” He huffed into the receiver. 

You laughed sarcastically, unsure if he was being serious right now. “Yeah, sorry I’m not in the mood to have sex with you right now. I’m kinda still reeling over the deaths of our classmates.”

“I don’t mean recently. You haven’t been the same since Seowon died.” His words shocked you, not understanding where this was coming from all of the sudden.

“Uh, well that’s kind of what loss does to a person if you didn’t know. They change - drastically.” All humor was gone from your tone as you felt yourself getting annoyed with him.

“Yeah well it’s been a year since he died and you’re still so skittish around me. It’s like you think I’m some kind of bad guy.”

“I’m sorry if my trauma has ruined things for you but no one is making you stay with me. If you need it that badly then you-” 

“Stop. That’s not what I meant at all.” He huffed angrily, taking a pause to gather his thoughts. “Listen, I don’t want to make you upset. I know it’s hard to see right now but I’m just feeling insecure. I want to make sure we’re still okay.”

At your silence, he let out another sigh. “I’m gonna let you go now. Please don’t be mad at me. I love you.”

He didn’t say anything after that but he stayed on the line, and you knew he was waiting for you to say it back. Hoping for you to say it back. And as pissed off as he had made you, you hated the idea of going to bed mad at him. So you conceded, for now.

“I love you too.”

*****

When you arrived on campus the next day, you spotted Namjoon standing near his usual news van. He was dressed smartly in an olive sweater and gray slacks, his glasses making him look more like a university student than a reporter. He was busy sorting through some papers, probably brushing up on his notes before he did his next broadcast.

You felt compelled to speak with him, especially after everything that had been going on recently. Over the past year, he had reached out to you multiple times for a comment and you always declined. The only time you had spoken in-person was after the court case had ended and it hadn’t been the most cordial moment.

“YN, this is a surprise. What can I do for you?” Namjoon raised his eyebrows at you, a mix of curiosity and something else you couldn’t quite pick up in his expression.

“I wanted to talk to you about Min Yoongi.”

“Okay.” He spoke slowly, glancing over at his camera crew who were standing a few feet away. “I’m guessing this is off the record?”

“Yes, please.” You paused, trying to think on how to start. “I know you probably don’t think very highly of me.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Well, you wrote a whole book on how my witness testimony was the reason an innocent man was imprisoned.”

“Yes. I still stand by that.” He responded honestly, crossing his arms over his chest.

“So what, you think I’m a liar?”

“You painted a picture that made him look like a killer. I think you were so desperate for all the media coverage and court trials to end that you picked him as a scapegoat.”

“Have you talked to Yoongi?”

“Many times. He admits to selling drugs to your brother but that’s all.” The look on his face told you just how in-depth their conversations had gone. Namjoon was a very detail-oriented man.

“Then how do you explain the blood on his clothes and the murder weapon in his home?”

“His roommate testified that he came home high with no blood on his clothes. Someone else planted all that evidence and framed him.” The way he spoke of Yoongi was almost like they were close; he clearly felt very strongly about clearing his name.

“Why are you so adamant on proving his innocence? Did you know him?”

“Why do you care what I think?” Namjoon’s face screwed up as he seemed to grow more irritated with you. This was the real emotion you expected to get from him, behind the friendly facade he tried to put on with you. “You got what you wanted, didn’t you? Yoongi’s life is ruined, he’ll never see the light of day again.”

“That’s not what I wanted.” Now, it was your turn to look confused. “I wanted justice. I told the judge exactly what I saw that day.”

His lips pursed as he thought for a moment, processing your words. “Yes, I knew Yoongi. We weren’t exactly friends but anyone who knew him knew he was harmless. He wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

“Harmless and yet he sold drugs to teenagers?” You regretted it as soon as it came out your mouth. You knew it was a low blow and you didn’t truly care that he did that anyway but you needed to cling onto some semblance that you made the right call.

He hummed as he searched your face for a moment, “Why are you asking me about Yoongi all of the sudden? You’re not so sure anymore, are you?”

“No, Yoongi murdered my brother.” You weren’t even sure if you believed yourself at how weak your voice sounded.

“These murders are related, aren’t they? The killer’s still on the loose.” He sounded almost triumphant as he marveled at your recent revelation, the cogs in his head working on overdrive. You had just confirmed his biggest theory yet despite your best efforts not to.

Now was a good time to leave. You weren’t sure what you had hoped to get out of this interaction but it wasn’t this. You had been avoiding the truth for a long time but it was catching up to you. 

“Goodbye, Namjoon. Always a pleasure.” He didn’t respond as he watched you move to leave, his lips moving as he quietly murmured to himself. Despite his dark calculating eyes following your every move, you knew that he was in a different place conjuring up his next news broadcast.

*****

Halfway through the school day, it became apparent that Principal Choi had not shown up nor called in sick. After multiple attempts to reach his home phone, one of the administrators called the police to do a wellness check. And what they had found upon entering his home had been what everyone was fearing.

The news of Principal Choi’s death spread through the school like wildfire and you could tell the staff struggled to hold themselves together while keeping the students organized. A few police officers arrived at the school to work with the administrators on figuring out how to go about letting the students go home.

You were in the library with Haena and Jungkook when a pair of boys came running through your section and drawing the attention of everyone nearby. One was screaming in an exaggerated manner and the other was wearing the infamous Ghostface mask and chasing the former. You could tell they were just playing a prank but you didn’t see how anyone could be making fun of the situation right now.

“What is wrong with people?”

“Are you kidding me? Look at this place, it’s like Halloween.” Jungkook threw his head back and laughed.

“Stupidity leak!” Haena berated him, whacking him in the head with her notebook.

You shook your head at him, deciding to just ignore his comment. “Have you guys seen Taehyung around?”

“You mean after you gave him blue balls? No, his heart’s broken.”

“Jungkook,” Haena elbowed him hard, causing him to grunt.

“He said that?” You were shocked that even Jungkook knew about your lack of a sex life but should have known that boys would talk just like girls did.

“Of course he did. The guy’s crazy about you.”

“What guy’s crazy about her?” Speak of the devil and he shall appear. Taehyung leaned over you from behind to kiss the top of your head, causing your heart to do a flip.

“Keanu Reeves, of course.” You mouthed a ‘thank you’ to Haena at her swift coverup, causing her to give you a wink.

“Hey, can I talk to you for a second?” Taehyung whispered in your ear and held your hand as he pulled you out of your chair. Haena ignored Jungkook trying to get her attention as she watched you follow your boyfriend to a more secluded area. 

“I’m really sorry about what I said before - it was way out of line. I’ve been a little out of sorts lately with everything going on.” He sounded vulnerable as he spoke, and you couldn’t help but feel your heart tug at his remorseful face. He had always been the type to wear his heart on his sleeve. “I just want us to be okay again. I want my girlfriend back.”

“I’m still your girlfriend,” You rolled your eyes playfully, squeezing his hand in yours. “But I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel insecure. I know I’ve been acting different for a while and it wasn’t fair to you. I guess I just haven’t been dealing with my trauma very well.”

“That’s not your fault. You don’t need to feel bad about how you grieve.” He reached up to tuck a lock of hair behind your ear, a soft expression on his face.

“I haven’t been grieving at all - that’s the problem. It’s like my emotions have been shut off.” You sighed, shutting your eyes as his hand moved to caress your cheek. “I can’t keep hiding in my room forever. I need to move on.”

When you opened your eyes again, Taehyung was watching you carefully with his mouth pressed shut. You wished you could read his mind. There was more you wanted to say but you found it hard to find the words, so you decided to let your actions speak by leaning forward and kissing him deeply.

You could tell he hadn’t expected you to make the move by the way he froze but he quickly recovered, pulling you closer with his arms settling around your waist. You pressed yourself to him as he leaned against the bookshelf. This was the most hot and heavy you had ever been in public and you could tell he was enjoying it, not wanting to part from you for even a second.

When you did eventually pull away, you felt brave enough to ask, “Will you meet me at my house later?”

You felt him tense up in shock yet again but couldn’t see his face as you were leaning on his chest. You dared to look up and see him looking at you with wide eyes.

“I thought you wanted to stay at Haena’s.”

“I changed my mind.” You shrugged, feeling giddy as his face lit up. “You’ll protect me from any bad guys, right?”

He pulled you in again, wrapping his arms around you tightly and resting his chin on the crown of your head. You had never felt safer.

“I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Taehyung has always been careful and thoughtful about how he treated you. His touches were gentle and soft; you couldn’t imagine him hurting a fly. Maybe it was just his artsy persona but you had always known him to be a deep, considerate person. He was meticulous about every detail, whether it was his art or his life. Sometimes it seemed like he truly believed life was art; a painting that was ever-changing and inspiring.

You were a masterpiece in his eyes. Something to be cherished and never tarnished. That was why he wanted to keep you safe from the evil in the world. He knew that life had already not been fair to you. But he believed it was his job to prevent any further wrongdoings from coming into your life. He wouldn’t hesitate to destroy anyone who would even try to cause you harm.

It was when you were laid out on your bed looking like an angel, Taehyung felt like he was truly going to Hell. Surely God was coming for him because he had stolen an angel and kept her all to himself. You had given yourself up to him and you didn’t know it yet but he would never let you go. How could he?

The only word to describe it was heaven. Having you in his arms like this, touching parts of you his hands had never dared to before - it was pure bliss. He wanted to stay like this forever. There was nothing out there for either of you. Everything you both needed was right here, in each other’s arms.

He had lost count of how many times he made you come undone before he had even entered you. This wasn’t his first time but it may as well have been with the way he struggled to not fall apart almost immediately. You were his weakness and at the same time you were the only thing keeping him together most of the time. He didn’t care how old you both were - you were it for him.

You had always imagined your first time would be like a dream, full of romantic candles and roses. The reality of it was much different, more natural, and yet you found it to be better than you could have ever imagined. You felt like one of Taehyung’s paintings as his lips and fingertips caressed you everywhere, molding you into one of his perfect creations. You were his muse and you had never felt so beautiful.

It was a night of passion and love; the perfect embodiment of your relationship. Whatever rocky period you had been going through before was long gone and you almost couldn’t believe you had ever wanted to delay this. This was where you needed to be. You knew you probably sounded like a naive teenager, but you didn’t want to think of anyone else in this way ever. You only wanted Taehyung.

“I’ll always love you, YN. I’ll never leave you.”

*****

The next day, you were on your way to your locker when you spied Haena waiting for you. You tried to act indifferent to Haena’s wide eyes looking you up and down as you approached her. It was as if she was trying to find some kind of visible evidence on you.

“So?” You knew she wanted to know what happened last night, but you weren’t ready to spill so soon. 

“So... what?” You acted ignorant as you opened up your locker, reaching for your math textbook.

“Oh come on, I’m dying here! Spill.”

“Okay, okay.” Laughter bursted out of you, your resolve crumbling before you could even try to build it up. “We, uh... did it.”

“More details, please.” She rolled her eyes at your vagueness.

“It was really sweet. He made us a nice dinner and then we...” You cringed, not knowing how to talk about it without sounding corny. “I don’t know how to describe it.”

“Well, did it hurt? Did you come?” You nodded to both questions honestly and her eyebrows raised as she became more intrigued. “How many times?”

When she saw you counting on your fingers higher and higher, she blew a low whistle. “God damn. Good for you, girl.”

“I feel like he set the bar pretty high. Is it always like this or is he just really talented?”

“Well, it depends. Jungkook is usually pretty good but sometimes he’s too drunk or lazy and then I end up doing most of the work myself.”

You pursed your lips in thought, “Doesn’t he go down on you before?”

Her eyes widened as she opened her mouth in shock, “Can I borrow him?”

You smacked her on the arm as she laughed, linking arms with you as you both made your way to class.

“Oh, by the way, Jungkook’s having a party at his house later.” She mentioned nonchalantly as she popped her gum in her mouth.

“What about curfew?”

She shrugged, “I don’t think they’re being too strict about it. It’s probably safer that we’re all together anyway.”

You still looked convinced, so she added, “But if you’re really worried, we can just stay over at his place. His parents are out of town.”

“Does your dad know?” You glanced at her curiously.

“God, no,” she laughed, shaking her head. “He’s working a night shift so he’ll be busy patrolling. And I’ll just tell my mom we’re staying at yours.”

“Okay. We can go.”

“Yeah?” She looked surprised, a bright smile painting her face. It was infectious as you found yourself smiling back at her and nodding. She bumped shoulders with you, wiggling her eyebrows as she leaned in, “Hmm, I like the new you. She’s fun.”

You were surprised how easy it was for you to agree to the party. Maybe last night gave you more confidence to just live a little. All you knew was the old you would have opted to stay at Haena’s for another night in and you didn’t want to be stuck in your old ways. You owed it to yourself and everyone you loved to move on.

You had foolishly fallen into a sense of false security, not necessarily forgetting about the horrors your town had been cursed with but just for once not having it in the forefront of your mind. You had felt closer to your boyfriend than ever before and now you were ready to be more adventurous. It wasn’t until later in the day did that bubble of excitement pop.

When the classroom door opened to reveal Sheriff Lee, the students around you immediately began whispering to each other conspiringly. You wondered what it could be this time around as he whispered something to the teacher before turning back to face front with a serious expression. Your teacher’s eyes landed on you as she waved her hand, “YN.”

Everyone around you hushed as you gathered your things with shaking hands, making your way to the front of the room quickly. The air out in the hallway felt different, less suffocating. It somewhat helped your rising anxiety.

One look at Sheriff Lee gave you a new perspective of this man who had practically raised you. He wasn’t that old, only early 50s, but the stress he had put under with his profession had aged him. He had tired bags under his eyes, worry lines on his forehead, and sprouting grays here and there. He had always been handsome and you could tell he would continue to age like wine. But that didn’t change how sad it made you to see him in this state.

“YN, I’m afraid I have some bad news. There was a report of a car that wrecked on the side of the road just outside of town.” He spoke slowly as he relayed the information, the consideration from him not lost on you. You were trying to process it all while still not understanding why he was telling you this. “It was your dad’s car.”

Your heart stopped as you clutched your school bag in your hand. Thoughts were going wild in your head as your breathing became erratic. You didn’t know what any of this meant. 

“What, um... is he dead?” Your tongue felt disconnected like your brain was just on autopilot.

“No one has seen him yet.” He sighed, a deep frown etched across his features. “I know you said he was leaving for a work trip but have you spoken to him at all since he left?”

He was aware that your father wasn’t known for contacting you at times like these, but you understood he still had to ask. “No. The last time I saw him was the night before he left.”

He nodded as if he expected that, giving you a small smile. “Well, we’ll keep looking. In the meantime, I want you to stay out of your house in case there are any clues to where he could have gone. And it’s probably safer that you’re not alone right now.”

“Okay.”

It seemed like he wanted to say more but clearly was out of his depth when it came to comforting someone. It wasn’t like he could make any promises about finding your dad because the truth was he was most likely gone. You had dealt with enough loss that you knew this feeling well. You gave him a matching small smile, albeit weak but you hoped it would appear encouraging.

“Thank you, Sheriff Lee.”

*****

School ended early that day, mostly due to the fact that half the staff had called out in fear of receiving the same fate as Principal Choi. It was strange that they even had anyone come in at all but you figured the police had already suspected the killer was at the school, thus being their best bet at finding them. Everyone was on edge as if Ghostface was still lurking in its shadows. Which technically, he probably was.

You had already started to go through in your mind which students in your school could have done it. There were a few stronger girls in your class who could have had the physical power to do it, but they were all too nice or non confrontational. There were plenty of bully-like guys that could fit the description, but you had a hard time truly seeing any of your classmates being involved in such gruesome scenes. It’s just that all the victims had one thing in common: the high school. It only made sense that all suspicion would be pointed here.

Eventually, you gave up trying to figure it out because you were only going in circles in your head. The police would figure it out. Tonight was supposed to be fun and you were sure the killer wouldn’t be brave enough to attack a whole group of teenagers. There was strength in numbers and you felt safer this way.

As you and Haena made your way up the driveway, music could be heard blasting from inside. You weren’t even that late but it seems the party was already in full swing. There were a dozen football players and cheerleaders lounging in the main room when you walked in, most of them unknown to you. Haena greeted a few people in the hallway and you followed her into the kitchen as she searched for some refreshments. 

“It’s about time you guys showed up,” Jungkook yelled from where he was standing by the snack table.

“I see you guys couldn’t wait to get started,” Haena eyed where Hobi was pouring beer down a funnel into Jin’s mouth.

“Well no one told you guys to arrive fashionably late,” Hobi replied, high-fiving Jin before switching places with him. Haena rolled her eyes, moving on to talk to Jungkook on the other side of the room.

“Hey, have you guys seen Taehyung?” You asked, leaning against the countertop island.

“He was in here earlier. I think he said something about going outside for a smoke,” Jin informed, not taking his eyes off where he was pouring.

You briefly wondered how you had missed him if you had just come from the outside but shrugged it off. He had to be around here somewhere. You ventured out into the main room and plopped down on the couch. The music had been turned down a bit as they were going back and forth trying to decide what movie to watch. For some reason, the genre they had settled on was horror which was in poor taste in your opinion. At least it was entertaining to hear them argue about who usually survives in a horror movie.

A hand on your shoulder startled you, looking up to see Hobi standing there with the telephone. “Phone for you.”

You held in your confusion as you got up to take the call in a quieter area. “Hello?”

“YN, it’s Namjoon.” Of all people who could be calling you, he was probably the last one you would suspect. “Are you guys okay?”

“Yes, why wouldn’t we be?”

“I’m guessing you haven’t heard yet.” He sighed and your heart thudded in your chest, unable to speak as you willed him to continue. “Sheriff Lee’s dead. They found him strung up on one of the field goals in the football field.”

You almost dropped the phone, a stuttered gasp being the only sound you could make for a moment. 

“Oh god,” you finally spoke, your hand coming up to cover your mouth. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

“Is Haena with you?” He asked quickly, trying to distract you.

“Yes.” Swallowing, you covered your other ear as the voices in the main room started getting louder. How were you supposed to tell everyone? You were surprised you were even still standing.

“Stay with her. If I were you, I wouldn’t leave that house. ”

You were still so in shock from the news about your Haena’s father that it suddenly dawned on you that he had figured out where you were without you ever telling him. 

“How did you know I was here?”

“Someone reported a large gathering of students at the Jeon house on the scanner. I had a feeling you would be there.” His answer was a shock to you, not expecting anyone to know about the party as it was out on the edge of town.

“O-okay, I better go warn everyone...”

“YN?” You held in your breath as you waited for him to continue, unease crawling into your system at his pause. “Be careful.”

For him to sound so concerned for you only heightened your paranoia, quickly walking back into the main room where everyone was. Jungkook was sprawled out on the couch now along with Jin and Hobi, throwing his head back at something the latter had said. You shakily placed the phone back on the stand.

“Jungkook, I need to talk to you.” You were surprised your voice was so steady, his big eyes meeting yours as he took in your expression.

“Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” He joked, standing up to meet you behind the couch.

“Kim Namjoon just called me,” You felt your stomach flip as you held the back of the couch for support. “Sheriff Lee was murdered.”

You had tried to be discreet about it but your shock must have garnered enough attention, gasps sounding around the room as they all picked up on what you had revealed.

“Holy shit, I’m getting out of here.”

There was a chorus of responses as people started to make themselves scarce, clearly not in the mood for a party anymore. The only ones that stayed were Hobi and Jin, either not concerned enough about the killer or not brave enough to leave the house. You weren’t sure which group you belonged to but you knew you had to find Haena. You looked up at Jungkook, who was staring at the carpet with a serious expression on his face and biting his lip.

“Where’s Haena?” It was like he almost didn’t hear you until you shook his shoulder. “Jungkook?”

“Um, she went to get more beer-” He blinked a few times, waving his arm behind him. “Garage.”

You walked quickly around the house, trying to find the correct door to the garage. When you finally did, it was pitch black save for some light coming in from the opened garage door. You almost turned back as it was clear there was no one in here before something made you stop. There was no noise, no movement but you felt like something was in here.

Your hand sought out the light, switching it on and blinking as it flicked a few times before brightening up the room. Your gaze flitted around, almost giving up before you saw something dark and red that made you flinch backwards. 

There was a piercing scream and you felt the ground beneath you move, your ass hitting the wooden step hard. It wasn’t long before thundering steps came behind you, stopping as they hit your back. Your ears, seemingly filled with water with how muted everything seemed, caught a few more gasps and screams. Hands gripped you under your armpits, pulling you up over the steps and back into the hallway.

After that, everything was a blur of commotion. You were vaguely aware of people yelling around you but it wasn’t until Hobi crouched down, waving his hand in front of your face that you felt alert again.

“I think she’s in shock,” He relayed to the others.

“YN?” Taehyung’s voice sounded from the other end of the hallway, his expression bewildered as he approached quickly. “I heard screaming.”

“Jesus, where have you been Tae?” Jin asked.

“Having a smoke,” Hobi moved out of the way so Taehyung could kneel before you, bringing his hands to your cheeks and analyzing your face closely. “What happened? Are you okay?”

“Haena...”

“Go find Jungkook,” Tae instructed the older two.

Hobi groaned, “Why do we have to keep splitting up? This is what the killer wants!”

Jin smacked him behind his head, angling his head towards your shell shocked figure. “Shut up, would you?”

The two of them walked off, bickering quietly as they went. Taehyung sat with you silently as you stayed in the same position, wiping away any tears that escaped. You stared at the floor as your mind raced with a million thoughts, not a single one sticking long enough for you to linger on.

How could this happen so fast? You had just seen Haena in the kitchen talking to Jungkook. Everything was fine. You couldn’t have been gone from her for more than thirty minutes and yet so much had changed. It didn’t make any sense.

First Sheriff Lee, now Haena. The killer was getting closer. No, the killer was already here. It couldn’t have been Jungkook, Hobi, or Jin. They had all been with you.

But...

“Taehyung?” He looked up at you, surprised to hear your voice finally. He leaned in, reaching a hand out to brush your hair back but you shied away. He reared back in shock, his expression confused as he met your suspicious one.

“What?”

“You were... smoking? For thirty minutes?” Your voice was unsure as you questioned him, sounding stuffed up from all the crying.

“Yes, wh-” The sound of screaming from outside interrupted him. You shot up from your spot, running towards the front door where it came from. “Wait, YN! Don’t!”

You ignored him as you threw open the door; you needed to stop any more evil from happening. You had already lost so much in your life. Enough was enough.

The sight of Hobi’s bloody body laying on the front steps had you freezing in your tracks, feeling Taehyung’s chest collide with your back a moment later. The two of you stared in shock before you became aware of the violent tussle happening further out in the yard. It was hard to make it out but it looked like Jungkook and Jin were fighting. What the hell had happened? You were guessing this was Jungkook’s fight-or-flight response to finding out about Haena.

“Stay right here,” Taehyung spoke softly to you as he brushed past you, walking around Hobi’s battered body and approaching the two other boys with a calmness you didn’t quite understand.

The further he went out, the harder it was to make out who was who especially as they moved between bushes and trees. You felt anxious and stupid as you just stood there, your feet itching to move out and help them but not knowing if it was a smart idea.

“YN,” A voice coughed out from below you, a gasp escaping as you fell to your knees where Hobi was laying. You had been so distracted by the fight that you almost forgot he was there.

“What happened?” You asked urgently, grabbing one of his hands and squeezing.

He choked a bit, blood spraying out onto his lips and neck. “Don’t trust them.” He gave your hand one last squeeze, meeting your eyes as if to make the message stronger. You watched in concern as he closed his eyes, chest rising and falling rapidly. He was still alive but he wasn’t doing well. He needed medical care immediately.

“YN! Get inside now!” Your head flew up to see Taehyung underneath Jin, the two of them fighting over something shiny and sharp-looking between them as what looked like Jungkook was passed out next to them.

Your gaze flew back and forth from them to Hobi’s unconscious face, trying to figure out who to believe. You took a deep breath and ran back inside, locking the door behind you as you ran for the phone. You hit redial, hoping it would direct you to Namjoon. You never thought you could ever cry with relief at hearing his voice.

“YN? Are you okay?”

“Namjoon, tell the police the boys must have snapped or something, I don’t know. But Haena’s dead and we need help.” The words flew out of you so fast you weren’t even sure what all you said, hoping you got the message across as you huffed.

The line went silent at that, and you held your breath as you waited for a response. But there was nothing - just dead air.

“Hello? Namjoon?” You tried again, pulling the phone away before you realized the line was dead. Someone had cut the lines. “Shit.”

Just then, a sudden banging could be heard from the front door followed by desperate shouts of your name. You ran over to it, ready to unlock the door when you hesitated with your hand on the lock.

“Who’s there?”

“YN, let me in! Hurry!” The urgency in Jin’s voice made you throw open the door, gasping when you saw him covered in blood with a knife in his hand.

“Jin, what-”

“Don’t let him in, YN! He attacked me!” Jungkook suddenly appeared behind him, a deep cut on his cheek that hadn’t been there before. 

You looked between Jungkook and Jin, trying to decipher who to believe but not finding any conclusive evidence. To be honest, when you saw them out in the yard before, it was hard to tell who had even started the fight. And now seeing them both with blood on them, you felt at a loss. All you knew was people were dying and someone had cut the phone lines. You didn’t know who you could trust.

“Fuck, I can’t.” You slammed the door as quickly as you could, locking it again. The banging and shouting continued.

“Help me! He’s gone crazy!”

You stood there for a few moments, palms still on the door as you willed your racing heart to calm down. Tonight had been nonstop crazy and you couldn’t remember the last time it was at a resting rate. Before you could turn around, a pair of hands landed on your shoulders and ruined any chance of your heartbeat slowing down any time soon. You shrieked as you turned around, not expecting to see Taehyung standing behind you. 

“Shh, it’s just me.”  He shushed you, putting his hands on your shoulders to calm you down. 

“Wh- how did you get in here?” You hadn’t seen him outside just now.

“I came in through the back. Are you okay?” He checked over your body, fingers brushing over the visible skin on your face and arms.

“I’m fine but Tae, where have you been all night?” Your exasperated tone caught him off guard, a somber look coating his features as he regarded you. “I’m getting really freaked out.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to run off like that. I’ve just been trying to protect you.” His words didn’t make any sense but you weren’t thinking clearly enough to dissect what he meant.

The banging grew louder and Taehyung moved to open it. The roles were reversed this time as you shook your head at him, silently urging him not to let anyone in. Your fingers gripped the sleeve of his sweater anxiously. He turned to look at you, his hand coming up to cover yours on his arm.

“It’s okay. You can trust me.” He nodded at you with a small smile, and you released the breath you didn’t know you were holding.

The door swung open to reveal Jungkook standing there looking out of breath, but his face lit up when he saw you standing there with Taehyung. A grin broke out across his face, “The gang’s all here!”

You could only watch in confusion as Jungkook stepped in in the same move that Taehyung backed you up with him. Jungkook shut the door behind him looking gleeful as ever. You looked at Taehyung who had a serious look on his face but you recognized a glint of something in his eye, almost like he had just won a bet or something.

“What’s going on?” You asked, stepping back cautiously from them. The energy had changed drastically and you didn’t like it one bit.

Taehyung eyed you like you were a scared animal, holding his hands out as if to placate you. His gaze was locked on yours and you almost felt like he could read your thoughts, anticipating your next move before you could even do it.

“Surprise, YN.” Jungkook smirked at you, looking far too elated right now to have just lost his girlfriend.

Your eyes flitted back and forth between the two of them before you spun around, racing toward the kitchen to find something you could defend yourself with. Although you had no proof, you knew it was them. Taehyung and Jungkook were the killers. You didn’t have time to feel heartbroken and betrayed. Your only thought right now was survival.

Before you could get far, arms wrapped around your waist and yanked you back towards a firm chest. You eyed the knife block longingly - so close. Taehyung held you tightly to his front, turning the two of you around so you were backed up against the counter. Jungkook leered from across the room looking like a dangerous predator.

“Why are you doing this?” You cried, hot tears streaming down your face.

“I already told you. I’m protecting you.” Taehyung explained as if it was the most obvious thing.

“By killing all my family and friends? You’re fucking crazy!” Your voice grew louder, unable to feel shy about getting angry despite being caught in a murderer’s arms.

Taehyung was a murder. Your soft, loving, artsy boyfriend was a cold-blooded killer. This was a nightmare; this couldn’t be real.

“Yes, I am crazy, but only for you. I would do anything for you, YN.”

“You’ll never get away with this.”

Jungkook chuckled, “Tell that to Min Yoongi. You wouldn’t believe how easy he was to frame.”

“What did you have against my brother?” There was a lot to unpack here but this was the question you had been wondering for a whole year.

“Your brother wasn’t the picture perfect star quarterback everyone believed him to be. He had a bad habit of date raping girls from other schools, including my cousin.” Taehyung answered for you, the lack of eye contact with him making him hard to read if what he was saying was true.

“You’re lying,” You hissed, trying desperately to break out of his arms.

“Why are you defending him? He was never nice to you.” Jungkook reminded you, his eyes calculating and cold. “Face it, YN. Your brother was a bad apple who got what was coming to him.”

“What do you have to gain from this?”

“Well, naturally, I wanted his spot on the team.” He grinned at you, flashing a perfect set of teeth. “It wasn’t hard for Taehyung to convince me once I realized what a piece of shit he was.”

“And Haena?” You glared at Jungkook. “How could you kill your own girlfriend?”

“I can’t take credit for that,” He nodded towards Taehyung behind you and you felt your body go still. “You saw me. I was here the whole night.”

“Wrong place, wrong time.” Taehyung added, leaning his head on the space between your shoulder and your neck. “But I won’t lie. I hated sharing her with you all the time.”

“You’re okay with him murdering your girlfriend?”

“I liked Haena but she didn’t get me. She didn’t get you either.” Jungkook approached the two of you slowly, dark gaze zeroed in on your anguished expression. He reached out to caress your face, causing you to tense up as Taehyung straightened behind you. “You’re too good for her.”

“Jungkook.” Taehyung’s voice was rough as he motioned with his head towards another part of the kitchen. The two shared some sort of unspoken communication as something dawned on the other boy.

“Oh yeah! We got a surprise for you, YN.” Jungkook’s voice grew louder and more excited as he walked towards the hallway closet door. “You’re gonna love this. It’s a scream, baby.”

It didn’t take him long to retrieve what he was looking for, your eyes almost bulging out of your head as you saw who it was. “Dad!” He was tied up with tape around his mouth and a nasty cut on his forehead.

“See, YN? We got it all figured out, don’t worry.” Jungkook began, pulling the knife from his pants and stuffing it in your dad’s belt. “The cops are already onto him and now the evidence is all over him. Just one more thing to do.”

Leaving you no time to react, Jungkook pulled a gun from behind his pants and aimed it right at your father’s head, shooting him dead. You couldn’t help the scream that tore out of your lungs. You felt cold all over, like your body had disconnected from your brain. Vaguely, you registered Taehyung’s arms holding you steady as your knees buckled.

“He deserved it, YN.” Taehyung spoke so plainly about the murder of your father like it was just a harmless prank he had pulled, “He didn’t appreciate what he had. Deep down, we all know he blamed you for being the one that survived. He never loved you the way a father should.”

The harsh reality of his words hurt. It was like he was looking into your soul, into your deepest darkest feelings that you had tried to keep down for so long.

“We did you a favor.” Jungkook added, his dark stare penetrating you where you stood behind the kitchen island. “And he makes the perfect suspect, triggered by your brothers’ death anniversary, then goes on a killing spree and finally kills himself with the sheriff’s gun. It’s like it was meant to be.”

These two were insane, no doubt about it. They had seen too many scary movies and now they felt like they were invincible. You could practically feel the adrenaline running through Taehyung’s veins.

“And now what? I’m next?”

“Of course not,” Taehyung laughed, switching you around so that he cornered you into the kitchen counter. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to your forehead, ignoring your deep cringe. “This has all been for you, baby.”

“Now, we finish what we started.”

Faster than you could blink, Taehyung swung at Jungkook, causing him to keel over. Red started pooling through the side of his shirt as he coughed into his hand, staining it with blood. You couldn’t believe your eyes.

“Tae, what the fuck?” Jungkook grunted, holding his side as he looked up at Taehyung in shock.

“I changed my mind. I don’t need a sidekick anymore.” Taehyung sneered, a venomous look on his face. “Thanks for all the help, buddy.”

Jungkook fell to the kitchen floor and Taehyung moved on top of him, stabbing him a few more times for good measure. In his bloodlust frenzy, he failed to notice that he had turned his back on you. Not only that, but the gun in Jungkook’s hand was now within reach of you.

You wasted no time in falling to your knees to grab it, quickly standing up and aiming it at the back of his head. Taehyung froze, still not facing you but somehow already figuring out his mistake. It was a foolish move on his part but he wasn’t exactly thinking clearly.

“Don’t move.” You spoke clearly, trying to keep your hand steady.

He didn’t listen to you though, moving slowly and carefully as he got off of Jungkook. He turned around with his hands raised, eyes wide as he stared at you. “YN, don’t do anything you’ll regret.”

“I said don’t move!” You yelled, your fingers trembling. You had never even held a gun before and now here you were aiming it at the love of your life.

“I know you don’t understand right now but you have to know: I did it all for you. So that we could be closer. I never meant to hurt you.” The sight of him inching further set you off, giving you the motivation you needed to pull the trigger.

“Goodbye, Taehyung.” You closed your eyes, not wanting to see the image of the light draining from his eyes.

It was over.

*****

Months later, you were relieved to find that life had seemed to calm down after that horrible night full of evil and bloodshed. You had suffered and lost so many people you loved. Much like a year before, only this time you felt somewhat hopeful for the future. Death couldn’t follow you around anymore like a bad curse; the evil was dead and gone from your life. It was the only thing keeping you going.

That and having a positive influence in your life, like for example Namjoon. He was the first to find you there at the Jeon house after getting your phone call but never receiving your message due to the phones being tampered with. You were lying on the kitchen floor, covered in blood and still in shock over everything. He had been so helpful, urging you to call 911 on his cell phone while he checked to see if Hobi and Jin were still somehow alive - which by some miracle, they were. They had sustained serious injuries and were lucky to be alive, each spending quite some time in the hospital and then physical therapy after that. You visited them almost every day.

It had been hard, dealing with the survivor’s guilt. Losing your entire family, best friend, and boyfriend (even though he had been the cause of it all) had done some serious damage to your mental health. And despite all the therapy you had been receiving and would continue to receive, you knew it would never completely be healed. But that was okay. In your mind, you deserved some kind of scar from the whole ordeal since you hadn’t suffered any physical injuries. Several of your friends were dead or badly hurt - you could deal with it if not for yourself, then for them.

The best part about it was being able to exonerate Yoongi. To finally be able to see some emotion from him on the day the judge ruled him not guilty had been life changing. Yoongi had always been such a calm guy and never blamed you for the year of his life wasted behind bars. You wanted desperately to make it up for him but didn’t know how you possibly could. Namjoon assured you that you had done enough but the guilt never seemed to go away.

Namjoon and you had started to develop more of a friendly relationship, something you had never expected to come out of this. But after all the conflict was gone, it was much easier to see each other’s point of view. And the truth was, he had always been right.

“Got any plans this weekend?” Namjoon asked as he poured some sugar into his coffee before taking a sip.

“Not sure,” you began, taking a breath as you thought it over. “I got invited to an end-of-year party but I’m not sure if I should go. Feels too soon.”

“Oh, you should definitely go. It’s not as soon as you think.” He responded encouragingly, sounding like a big brother.

“I just don’t see what there’s to celebrate about.” You shrugged, meeting his gaze.

“There’s plenty to celebrate! How about surviving a tragic murder spree, exonerating an innocent man, finishing up a school year?” You didn’t look convinced, so he tried again, “Come on, I think it would be good for you to get out. You shouldn’t stay in that big house by yourself all the time.”

“You sound like my therapist.” You rolled your eyes at him, stirring the tea in your cup mindlessly.

“Well, you sound like a petulant child.” He chuckled.

You opened your mouth to retort, eyes flying up to look at him when something in the distance caught your eye. Your body felt cold, frozen up as you stared at the familiar figure. Dark black mop of hair covered his face, baggy sweater and jeans on his frame. You blinked a few times but he didn’t move at all. It didn’t make any sense. 

“YN? What is it?” Namjoon waved a hand in your face, distracting you from whatever it was you just saw.

“Huh?” You asked, blinking at Namjoon before glancing back at where he stood before. Only now, there was nobody in sight. You cleared your throat as your gaze fell back on the man before you, “Uh, nothing.”

“You looked like you saw a ghost.” He laughed, eyebrows furrowing at you in a concerned manner.

“Yeah, right.” You shook your head. There was no such thing.

I’ll always love you, YN. I’ll never leave you.

*****

A/N: i'm baaaack! ngl i'm proud of myself for getting this one done bc it was a whopper. i really hoped you liked it! scream is one of my fave scary movies so i've always wanted to make an AU for it. ty for reading and pls lmk what you think!!

Innocent

✂ Pairing: Yandere! Mafia! Kim Taehyung x Female! Reader

✂ Word Count: 1,6k+

✂ Warnings: Murder, implied violence, kidnapping, blood

[Edited]

Do not re-upload my writing to another website or use it without my permission. Please reblog so other people can see my stories!

Keep reading

The Taste of Deceit( Hyung 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: 14k+ (Yes, I lost myself in the flow)

(GIF credits to the owner. I do not own them)

Kindly excuse the typos and errors

*****

The night was young and the stars were restless.

The night was young and the club was booming.

The night was young…

yet it felt like the darkest hour when his eyes met hers. 

(Y/N) worked as a bartender at an elite bar in the city- sort-after, high-end, but oddly lowkey. It was subtle, but an experienced pair of eyes would point out the oddities with ease.

As he sauntered towards her section, she busied herself with arranging the glasses and the mixers.

She had sworn to herself that she would stay out of trouble, and the broad-shouldered man with lips that seemed to be the carrier of kisses from paradise looked nothing less than trouble- big, deep trouble. 

“What specials do we have tonight?”

(YN) almost flinched at his voice, but her actions remained smooth as ever as she arranged the glasses. She managed to put up a smile though

“Cosmopolitan, French 75 and Paloma.”

“Cosmopolitan with olives please.” 

Even his voice was honey-like. But it held an unusual edge to it– some rare kind of honey- light but the right amount of sweet.

“I haven’t seen you before.” 

He stated as a matter of fact.

“I joined a few months ago,” she replied 

“I visited here last week.”

“I used to work the morning shift, it’s my first day in the evening shift.” she replied softly while handing him his drink.”

He smiled as he sipped from his drink but his eyes never left hers.

“Hope it’s not too overwhelming for you?”

“A little.” she admitted sheepishly “But my colleagues have been incredibly helpful, I think I will be settled soon.”

He hummed before finishing off his drink with a swig “I am Jin,” he offered his hand for a shake. 

With a somewhat hesitant smile, she took it– his hold was firm but his hands felt warm and smooth, just like his eyes.

The night was young and the stars were restless.

The night was young and the club was booming.

The night was young, yet when he smiled, 

it felt like slow electricity pulsing through the air

Jin– Kim Seokjin.

(Y/N) noted. The description that she was provided did no justice to what she was experiencing at the moment– his aura, his appearance, everything hit her at once.

The night was still young

And it was a long way ahead.

But officer (Y/N) (L/N) was determined.

“Liya. My name is Liya Grace.” she introduced herself.

The night was young

And she had taken the first step

—------------

Kim Seokjin was many things, Liya came to know that with her two years spent with him. He was a perfect gentleman, and he remembered exactly how many teaspoons of sugar she liked in her coffee and he oddly remembered the days that were otherwise insignificant to Officer (Y/N)- the person behind the mask of sweet and charming Liya Grace.

Little things mattered to Kim Seokjin, (Y/N) had realised– when Liya would cook dinner for him and wait up to reheat it even if her eyes would be droopy. When she would remember what tie he liked on certain days. When she would help him with fixing his tie and cuff links. Or when she would bring him his coffee to his home office every two hours.

One might misunderstand those as his expectation at first glance, but no– he never expected or assumed that he was not of the kind.

But the little gestures of care and devotion made him happy. It assured him that his partner was just as devoted to him as he was.

And was he a sincere lover– to the extent that (Y/N) felt a prick of guilt every time she replied to his soft, quiet declarations of love.

Jin was a lover straight out of a woman’s daydreams. 

One would never believe how the hands that touched her so delicately were the ones that pushed his enemies to their dooms.

But (Y/N) knew. She knew because she had witnessed him strangle men twice his size with ease– it was like buying bread to him- mundane business.

His eyes would be chillingly nonchalant and they were the windows for the sinister beast in him to peek through.

But only (Y/N) knew of this side of him– undercover officer (L/N)(Y/N) who was quick and quiet and never even breathed loud but took all the pictures right, and never forgot to set bugs in his office. Officer (Y/N) was subtle and clever, after all.

Liya Grace, however, was naive and oblivious, believing in whatever her beloved boyfriend fed her. He owned chains of hotels, exclusive nightclubs and restaurants. What was odd with that? Some red wine sprinkled on his white shirt? Happens! Why would not she believe him?

That was not technically a lie. Jin did own all of them. But they were the surface, the strong shields protecting his underground illegal weapon dealings– his real business.

It would have been so easy to fool any ordinary civilian, but (Y/N) was no ordinary civilian. 

“You’re late. Again.” 

“I’m sorry Jagi, you know well that I am– it’s those old investors, always looking for loopholes in my projects.”

Potential buyers

(Y/N) corrected him mentally  as she scoffed and turned away pretending to be upset 

“Liya–love, you can’t be angry at me now, it's only–uh– a bit late…” he trailed off as he glanced at his limited edition watch.

“It’s two in the morning Jin.” she huffed while reheating his dinner 

“Hmm, pretty late, but you are still awake sweetheart.”

“Yes”

Just getting some confidential documents.

“I wanted to talk.”

“Everything alright Jagi?” he sounded concerned but her smile soothed his frown

“Just considering visiting my parents. Haven’t seen them in a while.”

“Why? I mean is everything okay there?”

“Oh no, I just miss them.”

There was another thing (Y/N) had noticed about Kim Seokjin. He liked to keep her for himself.

He was a possessive man, more so emotionally than physically. It was normal for lovers to be possessive, but his sense of possession extended a bit too far.

And it made (Y/N) squirm sometimes– she could swear it was just her being uncomfortable, but deep down, she knew that there was a sinister edge to his love and it made an eerie anticipation bloom in her heart.

“Why not we go to meet them this weekend? You can finally introduce me to them then?”

“Oh Jin, no need of that, you already have a tight schedule.”

There was no way that she could let all her hard work go down the drain.

“But Liya, I have to meet them someday.”

“Sure Jin, I want you to meet them too, but I want to see how they would take the news of me already living with my boyfriend– they have always been a bit protective of me and I want things to go smoothly so bad...Let me set the ground first. Hm?”

She managed to muster up her best puppy eyes and Jin finally relented and nodded with a sigh. He was in a hurry to put a ring on her finger, so eager in fact that she already had a promise ring occupying her finger.

“When do you plan to go then?”

“Tomorrow?”

Jin smiled and nodded “Just don’t stay away from me long, okay?” 

—------

“Liya! I have cooked your favourites.” 

Her father greeted her on the porch as soon as she arrived.

“Dad I missed you!”

Her father smiled and pulled her in for a hug.

“You have the pigeon feed?” he whispered into her ears without a single muscle faltering.

She hummed, still smiling.

There could be no chance taken. It was Kim Seokjin after all, and underestimating him would be foolishness. The department knew that Kim Seokjin had eyes everywhere and one slip-up could cost them not only all their hard work but also their lives.

“Hurry up, your Mom is setting the table.” he ushered her in as they played the perfect father and daughter for the hidden hawks.

—----

“Here.” (Y/N) handed them a Pendrive. It was the one that contained recordings of his office, some pictures of classified documents and some codes

“Excellent Officer.” her ‘mother’ hummed as she examined the item.

“Now that the pigeons will be feeding, let us have dinner too.” her ‘father’ quipped in– finally at ease now that the documents were in their hands.

—------

(Y/N) had excused herself back to her room. It was cosy yet oddly familiar– detailed to perfection. A typical room that screamed  ‘I spent my teenage years here’. (Y/N) felt exhausted. Not only because she had been putting up a facade for so long but also because the ring on her finger sat heavily– mocking her as it gleamed under the nightlight. But most of all, it was the booming questions in her mind, screaming at her for answers.

She dug into her purse to retrieve a Pendrive. Another Pendrive that held the most crucial information, the deepest vulnerabilities in Kim Jin’s empire, in his security system. The Pendrive contained information that could easily lead to his encounter– no more pieces of evidence required.

She gulped, fiddling with the tiny device. She had always known what she wanted, what she was doing. But not this time.

What was she doing?

Why couldn’t she—why did not she submit the most important Pendrive to her superiors?

It would take them no time to bring Kim Seokjin and his empire of illegal weapons into ashes and yet….

“What’s wrong with me?” she huffed out breathlessly.

Finding no convincing answer, she settled for going to bed. Maybe a bit of rest would do? She had been pretending for so long, acting as the perfect, oblivious little girlfriend to a man so subtly dark, it had taken a toll on her mentally and emotionally.

—----

Drip

Drip

Drip

Drip

Drip

Drip drip drip dripdripdripdripdrip

.

.

.

Gurgrlegurlegurlegurglegurglegurgurgurgle—

“Huh?”

It was disorienting to wake up to the sound of an open tap. Without much thought, she stepped into the bathroom, cringing at the wet sensation. It was tap left open and the basin was overflowing. Turning the tap off, she waited for the water to settle down. 

The drain was blocked.

She did not remember blocking it. She had not even stepped into the bathroom.

She pulled out the lid, unlocking the drain as thoughts began to flood in. It was an in-built instinct within her. She never dismissed anything that even felt remotely off.

And at the moment she felt like something was very, very strange.

The sound of splashing and gurgling of water felt louder than it actually was. The silence was no longer blank, or even remotely cosy. It was instead eerie. 

Something just did not feel right.

Rushing to the closet, she searched for any weapons that they have provided her in the room. She let go of the breath that she had been holding as she felt a gun kept between a bundle of empty boxes. 

Fishing it out, she checked if it was loaded before pocketing the pen drive and slipping out of the room as quietly as possible. It was two o'clock in the morning, and while the silence was expected, this silence felt like holding one’s breath– it was filled with anticipation.

Making her way down the carpeted stair, she remained glued to the wall while her finger wrapped around the trigger. She gulped silently as her foot reached the bottom of the stairs. The door seemed locked, the kitchen was empty—

The backdoor!

Carefully gliding around along the walls, she reached the bedroom near the backdoor. The safety of her colleagues mattered the most to her at the moment. 

Much to her relief, she saw them asleep on the bed. Noislesslyy shutting the door, she made her way to the backdoor. It  appeared perfectly—

No.

It was unlocked. 

One twist of the doorknob gave away the fragility of their safety. Her ears tried to pick up any noise behind or around her while her eyes searched for her other colleagues roaming around in disguise. The house, past the lawn, was supposed to be occupied by her colleagues too. She quickly searched for the torchlight she knew was kept there. Gripping it with a tinge of desperation, she blinked it at the house window.

No response.

She tried again. They were supposed to have their eyes on this house for the whole damn night!

No response.

Feeling the panic beginning to build, she took a deep breath in and out. She had been spying on one of the country's biggest underworld figures, there had been people she had taken care of before.

Everything would be under control.

She tried to soothe herself as she made her way back to the bedroom, leaving the door unlocked. If something went wrong, the backdoor would be their safe exit.

As soon as she stepped into the bedroom, she reached out for them, fingers almost twitching to shoot anyone other than her colleagues.

“Sir, wake up.” she whispered as quietly as possible. Not getting a response, she tapped on his covers “Sir, Ma’am please—”

She felt cold at the sensation of the warmth she was familiar with–--warm and wet. Her throat closed up as she felt around the covers. It was all damp and warm inside but her colleagues were still and cold. 

She yanked her hand out with a shaky gasp, only to be further horrid at the sight of her tainted hands in the darkness of the room— she could see it clearly–even under the street light. 

There was a faint noise of something shifting that had her pointing her gun at the darkest corner of the room. Her heart thumped in fear and anticipation as she pointed her gun at the darkness.

It was at that moment when her anticipation came to a  heavy halt— Jin stepped out of the dark corner, taking up the space near the window instead. The streetlight and moon rays falling on his form gave him an eerie illumination.

“Why wait now?… Here I am. Pull the trigger.” 

His inaction was far more chilling than his acts of violence. He was just standing still– and nonchalant and yet, the darkness in his eyes was far deeper than the dark corner he emerged from.

“Is it not what you were sent for, after all?” he drawled, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Now you even have a reason.” 

his eyes flickered to the bed momentarily before settling back on her as he tilted his head slightly

 “What’s the matter Officer (Y/N)(L/N), pull the trigger.” the amusement was clear in his tone.

She would not pull the trigger, even if it was the right thing to do, she would never do that. 

And Kim Seokjin had realised it before her. 

She hid away the pen drive, her hands shook as she pointed her gun at him and her fingers froze at the mere thought of shooting him. 

She shook her head, trying to push back her tears as the realisation began to dawn upon her, like a nightmare merging into reality.

“E-even if I tell you why, you would not believe me.” she breathed out.

It was pathetic. How would he believe her if she told him that she had just realised that she was in love with him? For real.

Why would he believe that even?

The corner of Jin’s lips lifted up slightly at her words.

“Oh Jagi, I know you inside out…” he trailed away as he sauntered towards her.

His movements reminded her of the first time she had met him. Two years ago.

Today was the day– the day they first met.

She stepped back, half in shock, half in caution, her hands lowered far before she had realised.

“Why did you keep the other pen drive to yourself? You had two of them.” 

He knew, he always knew.

“How long?”

Jin’s lips tugged up with smugness.

“The moment our eyes met I knew that you did not belong there.”

She took in a sharp breath.

“Assuming that I had never known of you– confidence.” he continued to take predatory steps towards her. 

She truly felt like a cornered prey– so small and helpless. His towering form seemed to have engulfed the whole room- and he, her whole existence. She flinched internally when her back touched the wall. 

“But assuming that my sources would never know about you– overconfidence.” he smiled as he reached her. The kind of smile that made her feel cold

There was no way out.

“If you plan to kill me, just get over with it now.” the words felt foreign on her tongue, but she meant them.

“Oh Jagi…” he drawled as if sharpening his sword “ I only intend to teach you a sweet, sweet lesson…I do love you after all.” she forced down a whimper as he leaned closer to her, his lips touching her earlobes

 “After all, you love me too, and you shall scream that to the world tonight”

****

Min Yoongi was many things.

He was subtle, he was lowkey, and yet he was powerful, he bathed in money and influence and guess what– he was a well-known face on the top magazines, billboards and newspapers.

He was one of the leading industrialists after all.

To the world.

Behind closed doors ran the chaos and spills of the underworld– white power, red ink and sharp edges.

Min Yoongi was many things, but he was not always very patient– especially during crucial interrogations. His business was vast and deep. And to run such a vast business empire– one he had built himself, he needed money– a flood of it.

 People looked up to him as an inspirational figure– the ideal rags-to-riches man. But to build such an empire by the age of thirty-two, one needed something extra, and Yoongi had nothing– nothing other than a hawk’s eyes and a razor mind. So he used them instead and created a whole ring of underground business. The profit in the market required heavy investments and it came not only from big investors, it was pumped from the underground.

Who would suspect that the man making gaping charities, arranging free scholarships and educating millions of children would be the one running a whole underground business?

The police, who else?

It was an open secret among the top officers. They knew what went on behind closed doors and dark basements in his posh offices and luxurious hotels. Too bad, Min Yoongi was always ten steps ahead.

It had turned into a cat-and-mouse game, they would hunt for evidence, a loophole and Yoongi would hunt for the one digging those holes.

The man’s head was pulled out of the cold water. He coughed and wheezed, struggling to breathe through the remaining water dripping down along with blood.

Yoongi sighed. Twenty minutes– twenty fucking minutes and no information regarding the infiltrator. Though it was no new thing, it was a matter of increasing concern because he had not been able to get hold of the mouse yet. 

The man being interrogated was one too, but Yoongi knew that he was not the spy he should be concerned with.

“Here’s how this is going to be young man…” he began with a cigarette clasped between his lips. He paused briefly to light it up. “You tell me who has been collecting information about my organisation and I give you an easy death.”

Yoongi’s eyes flicked up, finding the dilated pupils of the man, blood and saliva running down his busted lips. He spat out two of his bloody teeth into the water and coughed. He gasped again as one of Yoongi’s men took hold of his hair, ready to dunk his head into the murky water again.

Yoongi rose his palm this time, halting his men’s actions. Pulling the cigarette away, he blew out smoke into the air, momentarily blurring his face “Let me rephrase it..If you do not reveal your partner, I will make sure that you continue to breathe.”

 Nearing him, Yoongi leaned closer, whispering in his ear 

“Besides, your sister would make up for the loss of our money for our clients. Now, that would be perfect, don’t you think?”

Yoongi smirked as the man clenched his jaw and shuddered. He gripped his shoulder and squeezed the bruise hard, making the man scream.

“Think about it, hero– your charity might cost you your sister’s life. She just entered college, didn’t she? Tsk tch tch, she must have so many dreams…” he threatened with a voice dripping with mock concern while his eyes held a promise of acting through his words.

The man shut his eyes, gritting his teeth before looking dead into Yoongi’s eyes

“Raven”

Was all he said before pushing out a tiny bottle from his tied hands, it had been there between his palms. It happened within the span of seconds, one moment the man was there, and the next, he shoved the bottle in his mouth before dropping dead.

Cyanide.

“Where were your eyes?” Yoongi gritted out as he looked at his men with fury “Where.the.fuck were you looking when he had this in his fucking palms?”

His men trembled but said nothing, only hanging their heads in shame. Min Yoongi with raised voice was a threat, but he with a cold, low voice with gritting teeth was a warning that barely stood between one’s life and his gun.

Surely, the police officer's body was not the only one which would be laying there.

But to their utter surprise, their boss’ fingers, instead of going for his gun, went to his head, running through his long hair.

He took a few puffs from his cigarette before dropping it on the wet floor and viciously crushing it with his heavy shoes.

He sighed, closing his eyes, the thin cut running through his face could be seen in its complete glory with his eyes closed– it began from his forehead and sliced straight through his left eyebrow, and eyelid, ending on his upper cheek, parallel to his nose. It was faded but only added to the grim aura he carried.

“Find out who is Raven. And don’t be lousy fucky this time.”

That was all he said before marching out of the place.

Min Yoongi was many things but he was not a man to step back from his words, even if it was something he had promised himself.

No blood on his hands on her birthday. 

—---

The front light of the shop flickered before dimming considerably while Yoongi’s car pulled up in front of the flower shop. It was decent, but in Yoongi’s mind, needed a ton of renovation. It was already past midnight and his only regret was that he could not be there to wish her on the strike of twelve.

The door sign showed ‘closed’ but he rang the bell anyway, his heart thumping on hearing the muffled sound of her ascending the stairs.

His lips curved into a smile as soon as the door opened.

“You came? I thought you were busy.”

“And I thought I told you to wait for me at my place. Yet I find you here, sleeping with just a single lock at the main door.” he commented as he walked inside. 

The flower shop was on the ground floor, and the floor above was where she lived. It would seem odd, special in a way– a business tycoon and a florist. But it would turn bizarre at the revelation of his true identity. A man marred with the underground murk and a sweet florist, oblivious to the monster she was letting in almost every night at her home.

“I baked some cookies.”

“Mhm? I got you some fried chicken with cheese and beer.” her eyes lit up at that and she smiled, raining heavens on his heart.

“Oh, Yoongi, you always know what I want!”

 Her voice dripped with delight as she made her way upstairs, while he locked the door, making eye contact with his men stationed just opposite the flower shop, under the guise of some construction workers.

He sighed in delight as her delicate floral fragrance engulfed him while he followed her upstairs.

“Wait for me in the bedroom, I will bring the food. And–what is this? A cake? You even brought me a cake? Oh Yoongi, you did not need to.”

He shook his head and smiled, taking her hands into his.

 “But I wanted to.” 

His hand slid to her lower back and the other hand guided her hand to his shoulder as they began to slow dance in the kitchen, the food long forgotten at the kitchen counter. 

Fishing out his phone, he clicked to play a retro romantic track– slow, lovely and oh-so poetic. He smiled at her, stealing a fleeting kiss on her forehead as they continued to move, like a slow-burning flame that would ignite one’s soul.

“Happy Birthday my love.” he whispered ever so tenderly as she looked up with glistening eyes. 

She tucked her head on his chest, relishing the moment in silence.

—---- 

One of the best leisure activities had to be sitting on the bed and enjoying one’s favourite meal along with one’s favourite person, Yoongi realised that while placing another piece of fried chicken on her plate. She smiled at him, a smudge of ketchup on her lower lip and it made her all the more adorable to her. All he wanted was to protect her, love her and be loved by her.

He scrunched his nose lightly while wiping the ketchup with his thumb while she munched on the chicken with stuffed cheeks.

Min Yoongi was in love with her, he knew it, she knew it too and he hoped that she would trust him too, enough to believe in his love through thick and thin.

“Gina…” he began as he took her hands in his, not minding the crumbles and oil “Do you trust me?”

She blinked “Yoongi, where is this coming from?”

“Just tell me, do you trust me to never hurt you? To love and protect you with my life?”

She frowned before nodding, but that was not enough for him.

“I need words Gina, do you trust me, love?”

“Yes Yoongi…” her voice shook but there was a crack of uncertainty. 

He would admit that it did hurt him, but he also knew that this was nothing beyond normal human behaviour– blind trust was a luxury and he would taste that luxury soon, he only had to be patient. He knew that her trust would falter with his next words, but he needed to do what was required.

Taking a deep breath, he grasped her hands firmer “Gina…I love you, and I did not wish to lose you…so I hid something from you, but now I must come clean for the sake of our love.” licking his lips, he continued “Gina, you know me as the world does, a philanthropist business tycoon, one with multiple companies under his banner, international projects, the rags-to-riches guy and what not…But the truth is beyond that, darker than that.”

Her frown deepened at that “What do you mean?” 

Yoongi sighed and continued “I have an underworld business, Gina, I have my hands dipped in everything murky you can possibly imagine.”

He felt her stiffening at his words and as she attempted to pull away from his hold, his fear began to take the shape of reality. With each attempt to pull her hands away, his hold coiled tighter like a hungry snake. His jaws ticked at her futile attempts

“You promised to trust me, didn’t you?” his hand crept to her forearm 

“Y-Yoongi…”

“I love you, I love you so much Gina, don’t try to take that away from me.” hissed, turning desperate “I love you too much to let you go. I have everything prepared for you love, you will love the mansion, it has a vast garden and even a patch of woods, there are flowers, beautiful flowers, and the room I have prepared for you is your dream room, Love. We shall move to our room soon after the wedding.”

“Wedding?” she whispered out incredulously as if it were the most bizarre thing to hear from him. 

“Of course Jagi, are we not going to marry soon? I love you Gina and I thought this would be a perfect time to come out clean. I want to keep you safe love, pack up hmm? I have had the mansion all readied.”

“No” she whispered, making Yoongi pause

“No?”

He scowled, tightening his hold to a painful extent before jerking her closer to him, ignoring the whimper his actions and eyes had elicited.

“What do you mean by No?” he snarled before closing his eyes and looking away– his tongue pushed against the inner wall of his cheek to show his thinning patience as he remained unfazed by her struggle to slip away from his bruising hold. “Gina…I told you that I love you, didn’t I? I came clean to you like a good lover. Isn’t it your turn to show appreciation and fucking listen to me? You are so fucking unsafe here I cannot protect—”

He was cut off by the sound of a click that tore through the otherwise heavy silence like an arrow in a dead forest

He looked at her, hold loosening before she mouthed--

RUN!

But there was no time for that other than reaching for his gun strapped on his shin but the moment his fingers touched the gun, he felt the piecing of a bullet. Chaos ensued as a figure in black jumped down from the attic, opening the foldable ladder that dropped from the ceiling, and reaching the bed.

Yoongi felt hands forcing him down before he elbowed the assaulter. His palm was already suffering a bullet wound but his eyes never left her– his Gina, or that was the name she had used. She shook her head, tears now streaming down in full force. 

“Min Yoong, you are under arrest!”

How were there so many men in the room? Boots rang across the floor as many men in uniform stormed the room, forcing him down further. But his eyes remained on the woman sitting in front of him, nursing her bruising wrist yet looking down at him with the sorrow only a true lover could.

Her eyes widened as he smiled at her– a genuine smile that came from the realisation that she did warn him to run, that she had pain in her eyes. 

“What’s your name?” he whispered softly making her her eyes widen. “Your name…”

“Oi! You are under arrest for being involved in illegal business, you just confessed that!” 

One of the officers spat out as he snatched away the necklace she wore roughly, making her wince and Yoongi's jaws tick.

 “We have it all recorded you scum!”

 He waved it in front of him before landing a heavy punch, making Yoongi’s head whip to the side, a bruise already forming while blood trickled down the corner of his lips.

But he did not care, finding her frightened eyes once more as her hand jerked to reach him, only to be stopped midway by the officer “What’s your name?” he asked again

 “Get her out of here.” the senior officer barked before the subordinate approached, his actions and tone much gentler than his superior as he helped her get up from the bed.

But before went out, she turned to him one last time, eyes filled with emotions, while Yoongi focused on pushing his heel against the sole of his shoe– one press of the sensor and his team would be ready. He smiled at her as she disappeared from his sight.

Soon, Love…Very Soon.

—-----

The journey to the police station involved being shoved into a heavily guarded van with too many armed men.

Twenty men for one person? Even with a bullet wound?

He liked the fear. 

His eyes met with one of the amateur officers, young, naive and so fucking idealistic perhaps– a version of his in his early teens. Yoongi smirked as he watched him gulp subtly.

Good.

As soon as they reached the police station at an ungodly hour, he was shoved into an overly guarded prison, the captain watched him from outside as one would while inspecting a feral animal.

The middle-aged man held his gaze as Yoongi made himself comfortable behind the bars, sitting on the bed near the wall, his form faintly visible in the darkness.

The captain held his phone to his ear before speaking up, breaking the tense silence that felt like a bated breath

 “Mission Raven Completed,” 

He whispered out, his eyes holding Yoongi’s gaze in mockery as he cut the call and slipped his phone into his pocket

“Your game is over Min Yoongi.” 

Yoongi sat still, his feline eyes shining with amusement under the minimal light reaching his prison.

“What? Aren’t you scared? The whole world will come to know your true face in a few hours!” he snarled at him.

Yoongi knew that he had made many, many enemies along his climb to the top of the underworld rings. And this captain seemed to take things a bit too personally. But what did he know of the ‘games’ he played?

“ Captain Jiwok…” he watched in satisfaction as the smirk was wiped out from the man’s face “My game has just begun.”

Before the man could speak any further, a deafening boom shook the whole building as rubble began to fall,  he watched the building burst into bedlam, throwing his back into laughter while his eyes twinkled in delight.

****

A sunny day, the bright colours of the summer and the gentle breeze playing with the new, tender leaves and the playful petals of brightest and softest blooms. 

It would make anyone smile. But not the mistress of the Jung Estate–(L/N)(Y/N), who could only resentfully look on as the servants, maids, dogs, cats, butterflies and even insects enjoyed their freedom of embracing the outside world– all but her.

The sprawling estate encompassed a vast garden with water channels running around in symbols, hosting a range of koi fish, one more stunning than the other and a number of servant quarters that housed the staff. 

The place would look idyllic to anyone who would first set their eyes on it. But underneath the beautiful estate, laid metal doors, bloody walls and unending, dark body chutes. One might find that shocking, but not (Y/N) – to her, the Jung Estate was an extension of the master of the property– Jung Hoseok– an angel’s face and a devil’s soul. But (Y/N) doubted that he had any soul at all.

Taking her eyes off the garden, she focused on the elaborate lunch spread out for her. At least she had a choice of food, she thought with contempt as the maid served her more rice.

“Would you like dessert after lunch Ma’am?” Lia, her personal maid enquired.

“No thank you.”

“They’re all your favourite Madame.” she pressed ever so gently.

Sighing, (Y/N) nodded. Dessert might do her soured mood some good.

“I will bring them right after you are finished, Madame.” Lia beamed

(Y/N)’s lips tugged up subtly with an amused smile as she continued to eat her lunch. Hoseok, her husband always told her how much he loved her smile. And yet, he had turned the reason behind its decline. 

Jung Hoseok was probably the most feared man in the country and she had made the foolish mistake of walking right into the lion’s den one sorry evening.

—-----

“Madame, sweet buns along with mini butter croissants.” 

(Y/N) had smelled the delicious aroma before the oven-fresh delicacies came within her sight. After all, something to truly smile about, without making her cheeks ache. 

“You should have your lunch, Lia.” she offered softly, aching to be left alone, truly alone, without his people following her like some…fucking guard dogs!

Lia, the dedicated girl was obviously not at fault– she was just doing what she was paid so heftily for– taking care of the mistress of the Jung Estate.

The Mistress of Jung Estate…Ironical, really, when she could not even step out of the iron castle without his consent. And if he were to go out of the city, even the garden was out of her reach. Even his pet had more freedom than her. 

And yet…

And yet he would claim to love her the most, adore her more than anything and appreciate even the most mundane thing she would do.

Huffing as such thoughts crossed her path, she violently tore the delicate croissant into two before—

Croissants were not supposed to make any tearing sounds! Or were they?

This time, she looked closer, only to two torn pieces of the same paper peeking out of the halves of the delicacy. (Y/N) frowned as she pulled the pieces of paper out before joining them. Only to part her lips in surprise at the sight of the message written there.

A phone number!

She crumpled the pieces of paper, hiding them away in her fist before carefully peeling apart another croissant– the same number!

This had to mean something, this could not be a coincidence.

Her stomach flipped as she gulped an uncomfortable lump in her throat. 

What is this?

The question rang louder than all other thoughts in her head as she delicately folded the paper and walked up to the closet before hiding the paper in one of her shoes.

Thankfully, there were only two such croissants and the rest had only warmth and aroma stuffed inside them, so were the sweet buns, simple and delicious. The incident felt more like a dream but (Y/N) knew that it was not.

—--

“Who prepared the dessert today?” (Y/N) prayed that she sounded absolutely nonchalant as she fiddled with her food, pretending to mix the sauce with the rice.

Sitting on the terrace, she could have a wide view of the spread-out property– all lit up and quiet, except for nature’s sounds.

“Oh, did you not like it Ma’am?” it was the butler serving her this time– breakfasts and dinners were his responsibility and she had no clue why this was a rigid routine.

“No, it was delicious, that’s why I asked…”

“I am glad Madame, Lia herself prepared the dessert.”

(Y/N) kept her eyes down, afraid that her eyes would give away the surprise. Somehow, she managed a mundane “Oh, I see.” but all she did was restrain herself from frowning.

She did not even remember when she fell asleep, in his absence, sleep seemed to come easy and deep. But this time, somehow she woke up with a start in the middle of the night. It was quiet but tense and while she was alert as soon as she woke up without the usual grogginess she would feel, the goosebumps all over her skin told her that something was just not right.

Squinting her eyes, she tried to adjust her eyes to the darkness when she spotted–

“Lia?” she hissed, annoyed that the girl was there inside her bedroom and had given her a nightmare-worthy scare.

“Lia, is that you?” she felt her parched throat before recognising her rising fear— what if it was not Lia but one of Hoseok’s rivals? What if the person wanted to hurt her? The silhouette matched that of her personal maid but she had not seen the person’s face yet and—

To her slight relief, Lia revealed herself as she stepped near the bed “Madame, you are awake at this time?”

What kind of question was that?

“What are you doing in my room at two in the morning?”

Lia only smiled at her counter-question, but there was something condescending about it.

“Don’t you feel better? More refreshed than mornings?”

“Wh-what? What kind of question—”

“I assume you’ve got the number and are smart enough to hide it in a safe place?” she cut her off,

(Y/N) gulped, feeling increasingly uneasy with the situation. She was alone, vulnerable in her room with her supposedly personal maid who seemed…just off.

Lia sighed and tilted her head “Don’t worry, I'm not here to hurt you. In fact, I can help you.”

“Help me?” she could feel her voice crumble at her words.

Help her as in helping her get out of the place? But who would dare to?

“No, woman, I am not a rival’s spy or something if you are worried about that. I work for the government.”

(Y/N) gasped quietly at that. Why would the government of the nation take the pains of infiltrating Hoseok’s home to rescue a simple girl? She gulped again, feeling her mouth grow increasingly dry.

“Don’t,” Lia’s voice was quiet but strong, halting (Y/N)’s movement immediately as she reached out for the water bottle placed on the nightstand.

“I was just feeling thirsty?” she could not help but feel fear beginning to grip her in the face of the uncertain situation.

“You can drink that once we’re finished with the conversation woman. You drink that right now, you will fall asleep again.”

“What?” (Y/N) frowned while Lia rolled her eyes with a slow shake of her head 

“You are such a naive girl, no wonder you are still stuck here.” 

 She sighed before explaining

 “Don’t you feel weird? It is only the butler who serves you breakfast and dinner, prepared by him in the boss’ absence? Don’t you wonder why you feel so sleepy, even after breakfast? You sleep until noon and yet feel tired after dinner”

“So…” (Y/N) gulped, feeling her stomach beginning to flip “So, y-you are saying that the food, the water is compromised?”

“‘Compromised’? Don’t soften this up now, you know what it is, just acknowledge it.”

“He–he won’t–I mean he couldn’t have—”

Lia smiled again, the same condescending smile that rubbed the ugly fact on her face and made her stomach churn.

“You are saying that—that the food and water I consume are…drugged?”

She knew that Hoseok’s ‘love’ was toxic, but this was straight out of some nightmare-inducing psychological thriller. She let out a shuddering breath as the horrible realisation dawned upon her. It was sick, absolutely sick. 

“You see, morning and night are the only times when guards change shifts and take breaks, he could not take any chances. You are after all his most treasured possession.”

She drawled, and her words slapped the bleak reality of her marriage right on her face. Was it even a marriage? She felt like a prisoner before, now she was reduced to a precious little pet.

Weren’t you always his fucking pet?

Her subconscious mocked her as she felt tears beginning to gather.

“It took me a while to figure out what was he giving you, but today I managed to slip an antidote in your dinner. How does it feel to wake up refreshed?”

When she did not answer, Lia threw something beside her, making her flinch 

“In case you realise how deep you are in. All you need is to call.”

(Y/N)’s eyes remind of the buttoned cell phone, she did not even hear Lia leaving– she left as quietly as she came.

But she left behind a storm brewing in (Y/N)’s mind.

—-------

Despite knowing the consequences, (Y/N) tucked the phone away in some safe corner and drank the water, she was absolutely parched. Everything was too much to take. She knew that Hoseok was no saint, but this made her sick to her stomach. She feared Hoseok but now…now she was terrified of him.

The sky rumbled before her eyes found the window gigantic window of the place– big droplets of rain had begun to dot the glass. From that height, the sky seemed nearer, yet all the more distant– it was just a better, clearer sight, especially when one could leisurely watch the thunderstorm up close– clouds flashing, clashing and the skies illuminating with blinding cracks.

No one seemed to notice, or care, but her. It felt like it was only her– just like her four years old relationship– it was only her there. She was the one making the effort, she was always the one apologising, she was the one making her plans, her schedule flexible, initiating dates and she was the only fucking person in a relationship involving two.

And it took her a whole bad fight and a slap on the face to realise that. It was the worst fight the two had, and also perhaps the third major one in a span of four fucking years– so used to ‘sweeping things under the rug’ and ‘keeping the peace’, she had was, for once glad to let it all out– the bottled disappointments, suppressed anger, resentment, frustration hurt, envy, jealousy– every ugly emotion one could come up with when they had to carry the weight of a dying relationship and when she was spitting the facts on his face, he retorted with a slap that shook everything– the relationship, her perspective, her beliefs— everything shuddered and began to crumble with nothing. 

Noted, she had pulled his parents’ failed marriage in a fit of rage but reacting with violence? Was it ever okay?

Thankfully, she knew the answer. She did not even remember how she simply picked up her phone and wallet in dead silence after he stormed out of the house in tears. She had her vision blurred with unshed tears as well, but she did not let them escape her eyes, at least not until she drove back to her apartment. She had seen her first-ever serious relationship crumbling into nothing and she had no clue how to deal with that.

After days of crying herself to sleep and being on autopilot, her friends decided to intervene and drag her away to the fancy event. She had blocked him from everywhere but she was not sure if he even tried to contact her. Even in the glittering and gilded place, she could not stop thinking about him and the relationship she had dragged on for such a long time, but not romantically. She could not bring herself to do that after what had transpired that evening.

“Ma’am, a drink for you.” 

(Y/N) frowned as the bartender slid a fancy-looking shimmery drink in front of her. While her friends were busy chitchatting and flirting with people they knew, she had excused herself to the quieter part of the gigantic hall, a bar. But she had not ordered anything yet.

“But I did not order anything.”

“The gentleman bought you this.”

Not all drinks were free and the drink definitely looked like it had soaked up a fortune. Her eyes followed the bartender’s gaze and found a man she had never seen before leaning against the other end of the long island.

He looked sleek and mysterious and every last thing she wanted at the moment. While he smoked and raised an eyebrow, she smiled apologetically before shaking her head before getting off the barstool and making her way back to her friends.

She did not know what she needed at the moment, but she did know what she did not need.

As the event dragged on (Y/N) had begun to feel more uninterested. Maybe such high-class parties were more suited for her millionaire friend who had thrust the invitation card in her face. (Y/N) knew that all she wanted was to make her feel better but the event was quickly turning her eyes droopy. 

Bidding her friend goodbye with an excuse, she sighed in relief the moment she walked out of the hall, as the door closed, she was greeted with a silent hallway leading to the exit of the building.

“Hello there” the voice made her jump as she turned around, only to find the same man just a foot behind her.

“Oh, didn’t see you there.” she mustered up an easy smile as her feet remained in the direction of the exit.

The man hummed and assessed her with a ghost of a smile on his face, the tilt of his head had a few strands falling on his exposed forehead. He was an attractive man, no doubt, but she was just not interested. He seemed well above twenty-five, even past thirty perhaps.

“Did you not like the drink, Pretty?” she cringed internally at the nickname.

“I am in a hurry actually, thank you for the drink by the way.”

His lips tilted into an amused smile “Let me have the honours to drop you home, pretty.”

“I have my car.”

She had come with her friends and she had no car, but a cab would always be nearby in a posh locality.

“Oh yeah? Let me walk you to your car then.”

She tried to rack her brain for some excuse but the glint in his eyes confirmed her fears, he knew that she had no vehicle to return home and he was taking advantage of her situation. Even if he only intended to flirt, he was making her easy. 

“There you are!” the loud and buoyant voice startled her.

`

The man cornering her turned around, giving her a view of another man approaching them.

“And there I was, searching for you in that hall!” the new man beamed with a blinding smile before turning to him “Hi Juk, you’re here too.”

“Mr Jung, I did not that she is—”

“She came with me.” he declared, finding her gaze briefly before flickering back to…Juk– or whatever his name was.

She understood what he was trying to do and played along. 

“I was searching for you too!” even if her voice showed her relief, she did not care anymore.

Oddly, she felt less threatened in the smiling stranger’s presence. Juk came up with an excuse before walking back into the hall, leaving them alone. His gentle gaze fixed on her before his smile turned soft.

“Are you okay?”

“Eh yes, yes, thank you—I should get going now.” she bowed to show him her gratitude as he shook his head.

“Ah, it’s nothing, sometimes people here get pretty intense. I’m used to this.” he explained before realisation flashed in his eyes “I never saw you here before?”

“Yes, I came here with my friend.” 

“And you are leaving alone?”

“Yes, I was bored.” she slapped her hand over her lips immediately as the realisation dawned upon her. But it was too late.

Now what if he was the host?

“N-No I mean–I’m sorry—.” she was immediately in damage control mode, but he only waved his hand, laughing.

“No, no, I appreciate your honesty…I’m Hoseok by the way. Jung Hoseok.” he offered her his hand for a shake.

“(L/N)(Y/N).” she shook it with a smile.

—-----

When she opened her groggy eyes again, the room was illuminated with the sunshine filtering through the curtains fluttering. She rubbed her eyes as they began to close again.

Wait, she would never leave her window open at night?

“Good afternoon, Love!” 

Her actions paused as she rose from her bed, pushing away the comforter, only to find Hoseok standing in front of her, dressed in his casual olive t-shirt and sweats. Her eyes widened in surprise, the conversation with Lia floating back in her mind.

But he did not give her much time to think, instead, he got on the bed and pulled her for a searing kiss, never minding her morning breath or her stiffness.

“I missed you so much Jagi!” there it was, the deceiving smile that had blinded her to all the bright red flags once.

His arms engulfed her, pulling her towards his chest as he hummed in delight “You were sleeping when I returned, so I made breakfast for you myself.”

Schooling her expression and keeping her voice steady, she hugged him back “Thank you Hoseok.”

“Oh, no need to thank me, Love. I have been gone for a while, haven’t I? It must have been hard for you.” his voice dipped to a tone of regret before he pulled away and cupped her face “Being locked in here all by yourself. But you know it's for your safety, don’t you?”

Gulping, she dropped her gaze and nodded. He smiled in return before kissing her once more. “There, there, nothing to worry about anymore. You can even go to the garden unattended! But why bother about a garden when we have a whole vacation planned?”

Surprised, she looked up, earning a coo from him as he placed a kiss on her forehead. 

“Like, out of this place? This city?”

Hoseok nodded “Now, freshen up, I will serve you some breakfast. Okay?” 

 With a nod and a small smile, she made her way towards the bathroom, feeling increasingly uneasy in his presence. As soon as she was out of the bathroom, she was relieved to find no trace of her husband in the room. The bed was freshly made and crisp, everything seemed right in place, speckless. 

A vacation…

Lia’s words never left her mind, not even for a moment since she woke up. Did she want out?

Yes. Of course, she did. And she knew that deep down, Hoseok knew that too— she never asked to be here. That was why she was not even allowed to step out of the mansion in his absence.

But the real question was…

Was she safe?

She pondered as she held the phone in her grip.

****

She cursed herself as the thick rain pounded on her back while she jogged her way back home. Had she brought an umbrella, she could have avoided this situation. She hated getting wet in the rain. She hated such stormy evenings overall.

“Shit!”

She cursed out loud as she slipped down on the ground, her one leg folding painfully in the process. Gasping out in pain and shock, she tried to steady herself.

Breathe (Y/N), keep calm, you are almost home, you can have a good sleep and—no, not a peaceful sleep maybe but you will be taken care of.

Nodding to herself, she rose from the ground and continued her way home with a limping foot while the sky rumbled unpleasantly over her. She should have slowed down before.

Her apartment was quiet when she entered it. Closing the door with a huff, she took off her now, soaked shoes but gasped when she rose after putting them away. 

There was someone in the apartment with her!

She cursed herself before hastily switching the lights on, only to fall into a fused state of relief and annoyance.

“Namjoon!” she hissed “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming? And why were you just standing there like a creep?”

Namjoon chortled and folded his arms over his chest “Why? Did I scare you little bird?”

Rolling her eyes, (Y/N) shook her head “I’m not a little bird Joon.”

“Oh Little bird, you are dripping.” he cooed as he made his way towards her.

If there was someone who could simultaneously get on her nerves and warm her heart, it would be Kim Namjoon, her boyfriend of six months- Kim Namjoon. 

And she wondered often how come he was a college professor. At the rate he lost and broke things while managing to look like the most innocent soul with round eyes and full cheeks and–no wait, he was annoying at the moment!

“There, there.” he gently patted her with a towel and yet had the audacity to tease her in between “You look like a dunked kitten by the way.”

She simply sighed. There was no stopping him, she had realised that. He was like a child sometimes, really.

“Move, I have to get changed.” pushing her laughing boyfriend away, she made her way to the bathroom.

“Hey kitten, I have turned on the heating, be careful not to burn yourself!” he called out from behind as she slammed the bathroom door shut.

(Y/N) had met Namjoon in the most cliche place possible– a coffee shop. One moment he was passing by her seat and the next, he was tripping on plain ground and the entire content of his ‘extra-large’ cold coffee was all over her.

Before she could even turn around with smoke leaving her ears, he was on his knees apologising profusely with repeated bows, so much that he had hit his forehead twice on the table in the frenzy and his ID was on the ground, taking a dip at the spilled, frothy cold coffee.

The rest? Looking at them, anyone could have guessed the rest. 

It was hard to believe that a man this clumsy was teaching at a reputed college. She often wondered ‘How did he survive this far’, especially when he tried helping her in the kitchen.

He was banned from the kitchen for a reason.

When she entered the living room, Namjoon was busy cleaning the muddy footprints near the apartment entrance.

“I ordered us some chicken ramen with some snacks and beer.” Namjoon perked up as soon as he saw her enter the room

“Finally, something good to look forward to!” she beamed

“Oh, was work not good?” his smile faded with a frown of concern replacing it.

(Y/N) smiled and shook her head dismissively “Oh nothing, just the usual running around. We have weirdos coming in with bizarre complaints” she scoffed

“So, where else people would go if not the police?”

“Joon, there were claims of alien sightings.” she huffed, rolling her eyes as she plopped on the couch “Thanks for cleaning up though. I am so tired.” (Y/N) could not stop the wince when she tried to stretch her legs. 

People might consider that once someone joins the police force, they attain immunity against injuries and pain– the fact was, she and officers like her, were only human.

“What happened?”

“Nothing, I just slipped while jogging back home.”

“(Y/N), how many times have I asked you to not rush? It's even more dangerous during the rainy season!” he was immediately by her side, bunching the loose gown she wore to her mid-thigh. He winced at the sight of the bruised shin and knee. “Look what you have done to yourself now.” he chided as he gently ran his fingers through the darkening bruises.

“I’m a police officer Joon.” she scoffed, attempting to pull away, but he would have none of that 

“So? You are still human. Moreover, it has barely been a year since you joined.”

“A year Joon, a year has 365 days.”

Namjoon simply smiled and for the first time, the warmth was missing “Oh, little bird…I bet you’ve seen nothing. The world now rivals hell.” he leaned closer and placed a peck on her knee “So, be careful what you fly into.”

Although his eyes held a playful glint, they darkened under the light, ironically, they seemed to swallow the light falling on them, not reflect. It felt like she was starring at the eyes of a stranger, a man she had never seen before and—

Ring! Ring-ring!

The doorbell rang, shoving her out of the trance as she flinched– eyes darting towards the unanswered door, the smart LED mounted on the wall– anywhere but him.

Namjoon rose and walked up to the door in silence. Looking through the peephole, he unlocked the door and opened it, while she rushed to cover her legs and look decent.

It was their dinner. 

“Dinner’s here!” he turned to her with the paper bag dangling from his hold as soon as he shut the door. 

His smile was warm, the one she knew– it was her Namjoon. 

“Don’t worry, I will set it up. Why don’t you play the sitcom we were watching last time, hmm?”

She smiled as he walked towards the kitchenette. It was so usual of him– he was Namjoon, her boyfriend. Why did it feel different then?

Shaking her head, she moved to switch on the TV– she was just tired.

—-----

There was a thing about being in the police force. One comes under numerous circumstances, meet numerous people and remembers most of them. It was a part of the training, or maybe the experience she had over a year of joining the Police. 

The spies, the police, and the military had somewhat of a peculiar kind of instinct– in fact, they were trained to follow their instinct, trained to not hold the gaze for too long without the necessity and to never stare at the back of the head of the people they were supposed to keep an eye on.

The training, perhaps makes the observation and the intuition stronger– like their subconscious would no things before their conscious mind would find out.

Even after days after Namjoon’s visit, (Y/N) could not forget the moment– the brief, dreamlike moment that, even for a part of a second did make her see her boyfriend under a different light. Even if it was just for a moment, the Namjoon she knew seemed to have turned into…someone else- someone who made her…uneasy.

So aside from the cases she already was handling along with being a part of a confidential project, she took it upon herself to research more on Namjoon– her boyfriend. He had told her that he had discarded his surname, he was just Namjoon– even his ID showed that– ‘Namjoon’.

And that made it all the more difficult for her to dig more about him. It had not bothered her before. In fact, she had not even bothered to dig up about him, she never felt like he was hiding something or even remotely pretending. He was an unsuspecting College professor– a clumsy, endearing gentle giant who loved bonsai, flowers and everything small and cute.

Until that one night.

It is just to ease my tension. Just to ease my suspicion, it's nothing probably.

She kept telling herself as she searched through digital file after digital file without a trace of anything familiar. At one point, she even thought, why bother anyway? It might just have been the light doing its trick, or maybe her tired brain making up things.

But there was something that distinguished a person in uniform from an ordinary civilian– their reliance on their gut feeling. Even if people might find it strange, the police relied heavily on their gut feeling.

So if her gut feeling sensed something, she was trained to go with it– no matter who or what. She might be an amateur, not a speedy learner like her colleagues but she knew her job and she knew was, at the end of the day, a police officer.

—----

“The police in Busan have discovered a shipment... cocaine.” there was an emergency meeting held as soon as the station’s in-charge received an e-mail. “But they are suspecting that it is not the whole shipment.”

“Sir, what is the amount?” (Y/N)’s colleague Han raised the much-awaited question

Their superior’s eyes turned grim as he sighed.

This did not seem good

“48 kilograms.”

The room fell into a tense silence.

“And how do we know that it is not the whole shipment? 48kgs of cocaine is no joke.” (Y/N) spoke up this time.

“Yes, (Y/N), but the shipment was most probably for Gangnam. I had some people working for the police keeping an eye out. Those people are cunning– they evaded the Busan police– I had spoken with the station’s in-charge there and got to know that only the shipment was discovered, not the dealers.”

 He switched on the projector and the screen showed a map of major cities in the country but there were places marked. 

“You see these places? These are the places we have foiled major shipments in the past year.” he pointed at the flagged locations “But there is a worrying pattern here. These are the areas where most hotels, resorts, and other tourist destinations are. And before last year, neither these places nor such a jump in the number of drugs was detected…You know what this means, right?”

“There is a new snake in the town?” (Y/N) guessed

Their senior nodded “Yes, most probably– you see, this person is experienced, cunning. They know what happens in the streets, they know how things work and yet we get are able to sack the major shipments, but not a single dealer…It seems deliberate.”

“Deliberate? Those cost billions Sir,” Han was right, but so was her boss.

“Hmm, but we have no idea how vast this empire is, do we? It is the underground we’re speaking of, Han, these people are powerful dangerous, cruel and cunning. You never take them as fools. That might be your last mistake.”

Han nodded at his words before he continued -

“For now, we need to increase the patrol. Patrol officers here, keep vigilance and let some officers loiter around in civil attire, we need to keep an eye out for this area, we have  quite a few tourist places here. Dismissed for now.”

With that, the sounds of screeching and pushing chairs filled the room as the officers made their way out of the room one by one. 

“Officer (Y/N), please wait, I have a discussion with you regarding the burglary case.”

“Sure sir.”

As soon as the room was empty he walked up to the door and closed it.

“Sir, the case has been–”

“Closed, I know, this is regarding the shipments.”

“It's a mind game (Y/N). I’m sure of it.”

“May I know the reason, Sir?”

 “This time, they have targeted Busan. It's like a flag of ownership and victory, not a missed shipment. Whatever actual shipment was headed for Gangnam, has already reached there while the police were distracted with this one. It's like a declaration– they have their hold beyond this city now.”

“But 48 kg of cocaine costs a lot Sir, and Han was right, whatever shipments we have found over the years, they cost billions.” 

“And..do we know if those belong to this new…snake?”

(Y/N) frowned at his response

“The underworld, (Y/N) is no stranger to brutality. As I mentioned before, this new player knows the streets. They’re experienced. Do you really think that they will make such an amateur mistake? Not a single dealer caught, no man caught. They are mocking us, making us run around like puppies and I have a name for the snake…”

“A name?”

Her boss nodded before handing her his phone. There was a message from an unsaved number. A message with only two letters.

RM

“So–so who is this?”

“Can be anyone, a business tycoon, a philanthropist or whatever, but a looming figure in the underworld with eyes and ears everywhere. Ever since the last major drug dealer was shot dead in Dubai last year, we have been receiving anonymous alerts on such shipments.”

“So, you are suggesting that this…person has replaced the notorious Don? He was a Godfather, Sir and wasn’t his son about to take up—”

“And where is his son (Y/N)? Vanished, we have no idea where he is but this is not their pattern, we know that. Their businesses are sealed– legal or illegal, their bank accounts were frozen, properties here sealed– the family is not a threat now (Y/N). But this…” he pointed at his phone in her grip “This is. They are a clear, looming threat and it is so obvious that they fear no, nothing. It's like a game to them.”

“So, what do you want me to do?”

Her superior sighed and nodded as he took his phone back “It is not easy but I know I can trust you on this. I am forming a team, and I will update you soon about that but for now, we know that this RM knows the street well, maybe they belonged there once. Take a few days off and take a sweep of the street meanwhile. We need to have more information.”

“Sure, Sir.” she squared her shoulders

He nodded “Okay, you can go now, do not let anyone suspect anything until I inform you of the rest of the team.”

“Sir.” giving him a salute, she turned to walk away.

“And (Y/N).”

“Yes, Sir?”

“Be careful. We have a cunning and venomous snake here.”

“I will keep that in mind, Sir.”

“Okay, you can go now.”

—-------------

The place looked as peaceful as ever. The aroma of roasted coffee beans, blended with that of butter and chocolate– it was a typical cafe. And the same cafe she had met Namjoon for the first time.  And as she watched the couple sitting across the place, the same seat she had been sitting on months ago, her meeting with Namjoon, her interaction, it all felt surreal. Their story was indeed novel-worthy! Like a perfect romcom—

Perfect…

(Y/N) froze completely for a moment when the realisation struck her– her chewing, her fiddling, even her breathing and blinking.

Each movement spent with her boyfriend flowed in and each moment seemed so…Perfect.

Beautiful anything, (Y/N) knew one thing about the world…Nothing is perfect.

Yes, there were some shortcomings here and there but the meetings, the bumping into one another again…Everything was indeed perfect.

She gulped, then blinked.

No, she was thinking too much. Namjoon was a true gentleman. A man she was falling for, she really liked him. Maybe–maybe even loved him? She was not much sure about love but she knew one thing for sure, her job’s stress was spilling over on her personal life and affecting her personal relationships.

Before her thoughts could spiral any further, the chair in front of her was pulled out and her boyfriend took a seat in front of her, boring holes into her form as he made himself comfortable.

“Oh, Hi Namjoon.”

Namjoon did not respond immediately, he just sat there, staring right into her eyes, fingers folded into a contemplating posture. For the first time, (Y/N) realised that indeed, it would not be difficult for him to take control over a class of even hundreds– he had a commanding presence.

“You have not been answering my calls,” he stated. 

There was no questioning regarding the possible reasons. There was no trace of ‘questions’ in his tone at all.

“Yes, I have been a bit busy lately– just the usual, police things.”

Namjoon simply hummed, eyes still searching hers without a shift. “What are you getting, little bird?”

“Uh…Coffee?” she was left baffled at her own reaction. 

It was Namjoon, just Namjoon. So why did she feel… scrutinised? She was reminded of the night she had seen a glimpse of…something in his eyes. 

“So– what would you have?” her gaze dropped to the menu card in front of her.

“The usual.” she nodded to a waiter passing by 

“Would you like to order Ma’am?”

But before she could speak up, Namjoon ‘s voice intervened “One cappuccino frappe and a caramel macchiato along with some choco-chip cookies please.” 

As soon as the waiter was gone, he reached out for her hand on the table and sighed “You scared me (Y/N).” his eyes looked so soft and vulnerable, she thought she was crazy. Something had to be wrong with her to doubt a man like him.

“I’m so sorry Joon, I was so stressed about my job I…” he squeezed her hand gently and nodded.

“It must be stressful, right? See, you have dark circles forming.” his fingers reached out and traced the subtle bags forming under her eyes. “But please let me know (Y/N), let me know that you are okay, not too stressed, no hurt…I was so worried!”

Guilt encompassed her as she stared at his vulnerable gaze addressing her. He had been so worried about her and there she was, letting her investigative brain rush to conclusions and scenarios.

“I’m...I’m so sorry Joon, I should have informed you– I was so wrapped up in things and—” she stopped herself lest she would accidentally let something confidential slip out. And no matter who it was, having a loose tongue as a police officer was unacceptable.

“It’s okay, I understand Baby. Just never...” his hold on her hand tightened with a pause “Avoid me again.”

—-----

Everything was settled. Han, her, Dok and Kyong were in the special team. They met up at Han’s place in order to discuss their strategy.

“So we have a layout of the regions where we found drugs worth millions and from different cities. Each time, different location and different day.”

“Where’s the pattern though?” Han questioned, 

“In the fact that everything time, it is a city, a town at least, no remote area.”

“Yes.” (Y/N) added. All eyes turned to her and Kyong nodded “Not yet.”

“So, where do we begin?” Dok asked the much-anticipated question

“ As we know, we are on leave on paper. This is a highly confidential mission. First thing first, Sir asked us to be lowkey. No matter what we need to risk, just don’t get caught. The department would refuse any connection without activities here.”

“If it's a special mission then, why not involve the intelligence?”

“We are yet to receive any message from the higher-ups,” Kyong explained

“So we are on our own?”

“Definitely,” Han added.

“What we can do now is to track where the recent shipment was supposedly headed for– Gangnam. Why don’t we all spread to different high-profile clubs? Meanwhile, tell our informants to be on high alert, especially in Gangnam and nearby localities, even universities and colleges.” (Y/N) proposed.

“You’re right. Shall we go tonight?” Dok proposed

“Yes, we can but would not this be obvious if anything happens tonight? We found a shipment yesterday.” Kyong suggested,

“The weekend then?” 

“No (Y/N), the weekend is just too obvious. If anything does happen this weekend, it might be planned too, maybe to distract us—right–Kyong, your best informants are active nearby airports, stations and docs right?” Han perked up as if a fuse went off in his head “Tell them to be active tonight and especially this weekend. We can spread it in different clubs in Gangnam. If anything happens there, we shall also alert the informants and the police near dockyards, train stations and transportation areas. Because if they do plan to distract us, they might be up to something much bigger. Shipment, I assume, for now. We can catch them red-handed.”

“But where would be the official orders? Like, we are involving police officers from other regions Han.” Kyong had a point.

“Well, right, we can speak to Sir, right? He will provide us with the required.” Han proposed.

“Han is right, if this is a special mission at the department level, there is no way that the higher-ups have no idea. And even if they have no idea and Byuk Sir is risking it all for this mission, he has to have some loop ways out. He can manage and he can help us all manage.” (Y/N) agreed.

“But, wait, we were supposed to just collect information, not arrest anyone.” Dok pointed out.

“Well, not this RM, we can’t reach to such a level by ourselves, but maybe get out hands on this…RM’s men? Won’t this be a breakthrough?” Kyong argued.

“And would alert them further? We don’t even know if this is a man, woman, organisation, or group–we are in complete darkness!” Dok pointed out and he was right.

“Dok’s right. We will only collect information, a full-fledged operation would happen only after approval from the higher-ups, we don’t know who we are dealing with Kyong and if something goes wrong, the whole department and especiallyByik Sir would be under fire. We have to first find out this…RM’s reach and standing.”

“Seems obnoxiously confident to me, deliberately giving away billions worth of shipments,” Han added.

“And we will let them be confident. Won’t take long to turn into overconfidence– one misstep and we can have them.” (Y/N) spoke up and everyone nodded in agreement.

“This weekend then.” Dok reminded.

“This very weekend Dok,” Kyong assured.

—-----------

“Are you free this Weekend?” Namjoon asked as he poured her some wine. 

They were dining in a moderately fancy restaurant to celebrate his promotion as the Department Head. Now he would be responsible for all the inter-section activities and event organisations for the Literature and Culture Department of the University.

“I wish I were Baby, but I need to help a friend out. She’s a colleague, her mother is sick, I need to take care of her baby for a day.”

“Oh, what happened?” he asked before sipping his wine.

“Cancer.”

She hated the fact that she was having to lie to him. But what was needed, was to be done.

“Oh, the type?”

“I don’t know much, it has been rough on her, I’m trying to help as much as I can.”

Namjoon hummed before smiling “It’s okay, Jagi, we will get to spend a lot of time later. Just take care of yourself, hmm?”

“Yes, sure Joon.” she smiled back, but guilt continued to tap within.

But it would be alright. Once she was done with this case, she would make up for the lost time with her Joonie. She reassured herself.

—------

“Okay, I’ve reached, Dok,(Y/N), Han?” Kyong’s voice was clear despite the thrumming music across the floor littered with moving and blinking streaks of neon. The earbuds were incredible though.

.

“Yes, I’ve reached. Over.” (Y/N) responded and followed.

“Okay, you have your informants inside?”

“Yes.” (Y/N) replied, as she neared the bar, body language relaxed and dressed up to mingle with the crowd.

She ordered a drink– her eyes met with that of the bartender. They flashed with recognition and he nodded and prepared her drink. He poured yellow syrup over it.

A subtle sign that he was suspicious of someone in the nightclub.

“Here you go Ma’am.” he smiled and leaned further for the final garnishing, and as he leaned, he managed to whisper out “A man in a white shirt, scotch on rocks– corner seat.”

Taking her drink, she turned around and looked around the area. It was too chaotic and dark. And if there was someone, she did not want to seem even remotely suspicious. Fishing out her phone, she connected with another informant in the place– a waitress.

“Man in a white shirt, scotch on rocks, a corner seat. Use a bug.”

For an hour, whatever she had heard had been irrelevant but then, something caught her ears

“Yes, whole forty-eight, the shore, where else? Let's talk upstairs…”

From where she stood, she could see the man, partially visible under the shadows– he was a middle-aged, bulky man. But he was not alone, there were three more people. As they moved, (Y/N) slipped further under the shadows, pretending to be just another girl on call. Yet, from the corner of her eyes, she could see them beginning to walk towards the more private space of the club.

Under the shadows, she was about to stalk them when, with a beep, her team reconnected with call.

“ This is Kyong. We have information regarding a suspicious shipment at the dockyard, I repeat, we have information regarding a suspicious shipment to be loaded at the dockyard within an hour. Over.”

“Kyong, I think we have a suspect here. Over.” (Y/N) informed.

“We have to move to the dockyard first (Y/N) give the tell your informants to stay alert there. Over.” Kyong spoke

“Kyong, this might be important.”

“(Y/N), this is more important, you are alone there anyway. Just meet us near Cafe 18.” he named the meeting point in coded language.

Sighing, (Y/N) threw the door leading upstairs one last look before reconnecting with her informants 

“Keep an eye, bug the place is possible. Also, keep tonight’s footage ready. I’m leaving now.”

—-----

To their utter disappointment, there was no suspicious shipment discovered at the dockyard. Everything was in place. But the people the informant was suspicious of had vanished into thin air as well– tightening the knot on the case further. 

“It's far more complicated than I had expected,” Dok spoke out, running his hands through his hair. 

After such a hectic night, the four of them decided to call it a day and grab some dinner at a good, old ramen shop.

“This is only our first attempt Dok, we can’t lose hope like that.” (Y/N) patted his back.

“It makes no sense, they are in the CCTV footage but they never reach the dock.”

Wait–CCTV footage!

“Oh right, I think I have found a lead.” (Y/N) dropped her chopsticks and perked up. She prayed that at least the bartender would have his hands on the CCTV footage.

“Really? What?” Han asked, 

“See, I have the recordings, I already sent them to each of you, just listen.”

Fishing out their earbuds, they listened to the part of the recording she had sent them. 

“Sounds familiar? He did not use anything directly, not an amateur for sure but the words, forty-eight, shore. Don’t they ring a bell?”

“They surely do. Can we have access to tonight’s footage?”

“I hope so too. By tomorrow I guess?” (Y/N) prayed what she said would come true.”

“Okay, as soon as you get hold of that, inform us. Han, is your girlfriend home?”

“No, she has gone to her parents’.”

“Perfect.” Kyong clapped his and together.

—------

“Have you watched the footage yourself?” Kyong asked as Han began to set up his laptop.

“No, I came straight here.” (Y/N) replied with her eyes still stuck on the laptop screen 

“That's a good move, what if people are keeping an eye on us too?”

“Quiet possible.”

As soon as Han clicked on ‘play’, the strenuous task of analysing the video began. But four pairs of eyes were far better than one.

(Y/N) could feel her patience waning. The man and those people with him had been so exceptionally discreet, there was no trace of them in the footage even after hours of watching and—

“Wait, wait wait! Rewind that.” she jumped up as soon as something caught her eyes.

“What, this?” Han was clueless.

She tasked and took the laptop before rewinding the footage again. Narrowing her eyes, she zoomed in.

“It's him, the man.” she declared and placed the laptop in front of everyone.

“I see. We need to save this picture, take a screenshot Han.” Kyong suggested as he clicked a picture on his phone too. 

It was thankfully, not blurry enough to be unrecognisable, and the fact that they had not reached the end of the video made them more hopeful of catching something else. 

Han clicked on play again before they discovered the people with the man as well. One by one.

“Hmm, there are three more men and a woman. But only their backs are visible until now.”

“Wait!” (Y/N) yelled out, catching them off guard.

“Did you find something?” Han asked as he paused the video once more.

(Y/N) liked her lips and took hold of the laptop. Rewinding the part, she watched closely again. The second man…Even though his back was to the camera, he was too familiar to her.

After a few seconds, they all turned to the side to take their seats. There, she could see his side profile and her legs were fast turning brittle.

“You have seen anyone from here (Y/N)?” she could not answer Dok.

Instead, her eyes stayed on the frozen screen, she zoomed in and a wave of nausea hit her.

Namjoon...

It was Namjoon!

Her boyfriend Namjoon. She would recognise him anywhere– from the way he walked, to his back, his hair and now his side profile. Too many coincidences could never be a coincidence.

“(Y/N), you know him?” Kyong asked.

Yes.

She wanted to scream a ‘yes’ but she just could not.

“No, I was just…taking a good look at them.” she deadpanned.

—------

“Hello, this is (Collage Name) College, how may I help you?” the receptionist’s gentle voice echoed through the phone, but it only turned (Y/N)’s heartbeat erratic.

“Hello, I would like to leave Professor Namjoon a message regarding the upcoming semester.”

“Let me check Ma’am, please let me know your details.” she enquired

“ Choi Hana, Guardian of his student.”

“I request you to stay online, please…Yes, thank you, Professor Namjun you asked. Let me transfer your call to the Economics Department.”

“Economics Department? But isn’t he a professor in the Department of Literature and Culture Studies?”

“Ma’am we only have Cultural Studies Department. Literature is a separate Department. Shall I forward this call, Ma’am?”

“Okay.” (Y/N) managed to squeak out.

After a few beeps, another voice greeted her.

“Good afternoon, this is the Department of Economics of (College Name) College, how may I help you?” another woman’s voice filled her ear.

“Can I speak to Professor Namjun, please? I am a guardian of one of his students”

“I am sorry Ma’am, he is attending the Department meeting right now. But you can leave a message.”

“He is the department chairperson, right?”

“No Ma’am, not anymore, he was, two years back.”

“Oh?”

“Yes Ma’am, would you like to leave a message?”

“Sure, please let him know that…that I would be thankful to him if he could give me an appointment to meet him. It's an urgent matter.”

“Surely ma’am, would you like to share your name and contact?”

“Yes, uh, Choi Hana.” she gave the email address she used for her undercover investigations before the line was cut off.

(Y/N) felt her throat close up and her eyes turn blurry. The park was scarcely populated during the afternoons– thanks to that. But she would still not risk breaking down in a public place. Se ought to hold herself up like a true officer.

Leaning against a tree, she tried to gather herself together. But with each passing moment, her lips quivered just a little more.

No. Not now. Now now!

She tried to school herself. But nothing seemed to work. One stubborn tear managed to escape her eye anyway.

I loved you.

Another tear followed.

I trusted you

Then another.

But she managed to stop herself from bursting into a fit of tears and the scream that was itching her chords with deep, calming breaths.

A drink.

Yes, that was what she needed.

—-----

By the time she was home, the sun had already set, but it was a pleasant evening– ideal for walking home. She was not drunk, or even tipsy. It was just a buzz but it could not make her feel any better.

The apartment was plunged into tense darkness when she stepped in. Her fingers twitched, ready to reach for her gun at any moment, but she kept her body language calm– casual and unassuming.

“How was babysitting?”

She jumped at his voice. But it was too dark for her to see. 

Before she could reach the light switch, Namjoon switched on a table lamp, illuminating the space enough for her to see him sitting on the sofa but somehow making her own apartment appear threatening. 

With him in it, t did not even feel like her own place. She no longer felt safe with him.

Switching on the lights anyway, she schooled her expressions to that of being pleasantly surprised, even though her throat felt parched. Sometimes, working in the police paid off immensely.

“I was babysitting yesterday Joon,” she replied, putting away the titbits she had bought on her way home.

Namjooon gave her the heart-melting smile her heart had fluttered for. She managed to smile back at him as she made her way towards the kitchen. The delicious aroma of her favourites hit her. Switching on the kitchen lights, her suspicions were confirmed as takeouts from her favourite ramen stall awaited her at the kitchen island.

“I missed you awfully today. Couldn’t help myself.” Namjoon's hot breath teased the back of her neck, making goosebumps appear all over her body.

“Oh, Joon…you didn’t have to.”

“I don’t mind doing this for you, Jagi.” he placed a kiss on the back of her neck as she held back a grimace, keeping her smile plastered on her face.

Her heart stung bitterly as his lips tenderly traced her cheek and the side of her neck. She was greeted by his warm smile and soft eyes as he turned her around, fished out his phone from his pocket and played her favourite song. Perfect for slow-dancing to.

“What has gotten into you?” (Y/N) chuckled, keeping her composure as he led her steps, twirling her now and then.

“I love you so much, Jagi. You know that right?” his fingers wrapped gently at the back of her neck as he pulled her into a breath-robbing kiss.

“Yes, I know that.”

Now that I know your true face.

His lips descended to the side of her neck as he pulled her closer. 

Bear it.

She told herself.

Do not let him be suspicious.

“Then why are you trying to investigate me?”

His voice dropped into something heavy and unrecognisable and everything stilled. But before she could think of anything, she felt his fingers pressing at the side of her neck and her eyes rolled back.

*****

Pheww! It was a long part, but I enjoyed writing it and hopefully, it would not disappoint you all!

Apothic | pjm

pairing: yandere!zombie!jimin + g/n reader

word count: 6.1k+

genre: thriller, fluff(?), mild angst

warnings: GORE, violence, puking, obsessive thoughts, death, zombie cannibalism, is it necrophilia when it’s a zombie?? (sorry if i forgot anything)

— synopsis: Ever since the apocalypse hit, it’s been kill or be killed. So, what are you to do when a ghoul would kill for you instead of kill you?

Fuck, no more canned ravioli. Chef Boyardee will be dearly missed.

You crack a smile at your own thoughts while scanning the supermarket aisle, a flickering fluorescent overhead. Dirt and various food wrappers litter the tiled floor that you tiptoe on with sock-covered feet, shoes in hand in order to make as little sound as possible. You’ve yet to see a ghoul in this supermarket, but better to be safe than sorry.

With every item you stuff in your bag, a small sigh of relief passes through your lips. Going nomad helps a lot with your need to be alone, but also comes with many cons. Sitting at the very top of the list is being cautious. If ambushed by a group of ghouls, you must find a way out all on your own. It’s a risk you’re willing to take. But you’re not stupid enough to be noisy, whether you’re really alone or not.

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otherworldly ~ coraline!au (pt.3)

PAIRING ~ jimin x reader

GENRE ~ horror/thriller

WORD COUNT ~ 20K

SUMMARY ~ when you discover a tiny door in your home that leads to a much better version of your own life, it seems too good to be true. little do you know, the man posing as your boyfriend may be a lot more dangerous than you care to admit. and he is not intent on letting you leave.

WARNINGS ~ profanity, ANGST, relationship struggles, kidnapping, general creepiness, guilt tripping, spiders, violence, mentions of starvation, minor body mutilation, insects, restraints, blood, rats, non-graphic body horror, slight gore, needles/impalement, referenced medical horror, slight injury, jimin is a creep, dub-con kiss.

A/N ~ thank you for your patience!! I hope you like it :)

PART 1 PART 2

The floorboards aren’t enough to ground you. Not when your heart is about to pound out of your rib cage, shaking hands scrabbling for purchase on something solid, something real.

How does one ground themselves after crawling out of hell?

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otherworldly ~ coraline!au

PAIRING ~ jimin x reader

GENRE ~ horror/thriller, smut

WORD COUNT ~ 11k

SUMMARY ~ when you discover a tiny door in your home that leads to a much better version of your own life, it seems too good to be true. little do you know, the man posing as your boyfriend may be a lot more dangerous than you care to admit. and he is not intent on letting you leave.

WARNINGS ~ profanity, supernatural themes, obsessive behavior, imprisonment, depiction of an unhealthy relationship, masturbation, explicit smut (dom!jimin, sensory deprivation, bondage, soft degradation, cunnilingus, edging, unprotected sex)

A/N ~ part 1 of 3. based off of my favorite movie and novel: Coraline. thank you to everyone who’s shown their support for this monster of a fic! i hope i did this well-loved movie justice!

copyright © 2019-2020 under sinning-on-a-sunday. do not repost or translate my works without my explicit permission. this includes stealing my ideas/plot.

prologue

For the first time in ages, sunlight trickles down through the tree’s naked branches, warming the woman’s skin to the point where her heavy jacket isn’t necessary. She considers it a cruel coincidence. Why should the rest of the world be so happy and bright when she’s spent the last few months suffering?

Her brother’s been missing for weeks, the sun shouldn’t be shining.

Even though the weather is nice, mud still sloshes under her boots as she walks, icy fingers clutching at the object in her hands like it will wriggle away and escape if she loosens her grip.

She reaches the crest of the hill, coming to stop at the ring of mushrooms that surrounds the opening of the well. She vows to board it up later so that, hopefully, people will forget it’s there.

The woman looks down at the object in her hands: a doll with button eyes. It resembles a boy with brown hair, longer at the nape of his neck so that it’s almost a mullet. He’s wearing a red beret, trench coat, and small circular glasses; he looks like an artist.

She recognizes the style, she recognizes him.

Gritting her teeth, the woman steps up to stand at the edge of the well, open and gaping like a hungry, waiting mouth.

She remembers the day this infernal doll appeared in their house, she remembers how excited her brother had been. He’d carried it around with him everywhere, going on and on about how it looked just like him.

He disappeared a few days later.

A few tears prick the woman’s eyes.

No, he didn’t disappear. He was taken.

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The Broken Vow

Description: You met your husband when you were children, foolishly following the pull of first love. Nothing seemed impossible with him holding your hand; dreams and hopes at your fingertips. But when an accident happened, and you were left alone in this world, you learned how to rebuild it without him. Years later he’s back by your side, the only problem – he’s not too keen on having been replaced. It’s not your fault…right?

Warnings: manipulation, yandere, hospitals, divorce, mentions of death, angst, weight loss (not by MC), power corruption, self-condemnation. Please keep in mind this is a yandere story.

Word Count: ~13.5k

One-shot

!In no way of shape and form do I think this is how Jungkook acts in real life, this is pure work of fiction, so if you choose to read it, please keep that in mind!

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Yandere Halloween Collab

Come one come all to The Fear Festival! Looking for a good scare? Something to make you shiver? Then look no further! This collection of stories will have you shaking. Enjoy your favorite members in various spooky scenarios here in The Fear Festival!

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Strangers (masterlist)

pairing: ot7 x reader

genre: yandere, horror/thriller

warnings: murder, mature themes, obsessive/possessive behavior, emotional manipulation, stalking, violence (will update this list as needed)

summary: You are finally moving out of your hometown and following your dreams of living in the big city. With an internship at a successful company and your best friend living close by, you feel like things are finally working out.

Sure, your apartment might not be the most glamorous and your new neighbors are a bit strange but that’s normal for a first time living away from home, right? Everyone had warned you about how evil the world could be but it wasn’t until you moved there that you started to understand how strangers could be a real hell.

*Loosely based on the drama/webtoon Strangers from Hell (you don’t have to know the original story to read this!)*

Chapter: 1 2 3 4 5 6…

Strangers (Chapter Five)

Strangers from Hell AU

Series Masterlist

pairing: ot7 x reader

genre: yandere, horror/thriller

warnings: murder, mature themes, obsessive/possessive behavior, emotional manipulation, stalking, violence, blood and injuries (will update as needed)

word count: 4.5k words

The next morning was a Saturday and your body could surely feel it. You blinked your groggy eyes open, wondering if you should sleep in a bit more. The bright sunlight cascading through the window told you it was probably getting a bit late, even if it was the weekend. Rolling over to check the time on your phone, your eyes widened when you saw it was almost noon.

“Shit,” you grumbled, mustering up the energy to sit up with your feet on the floor. Blinking hazily, you tried to make sense of your worn out body. Sure, you had a long week but was it normal to feel this tired? It was probably just the alcohol you drank the night before.

Figuring a shower should help you wake up a bit, you grabbed a towel and a change of clothes and made your way up to the upper floor. You couldn’t help your gaze drifting to the plastic curtain hiding the rest of the upstairs hallway as you passed by it. The memory of Yoongi catching you that night replayed in your mind, feeding into your curious nature even more. You knew you would eventually have to see what was behind that curtain, whether Jimin liked it or not.

The water cascading down your face and body seemed to do the trick, your senses coming more alert with each passing second. Your eyes closed as you rinsed the shampoo out of your hair, fingers working through the strands. The sound of the shower was loud in your ears but calming, distracting you from your surroundings. So much so that when you heard a muffled thump from behind you, your peaceful bubble burst.

“Hello?” You called out, peeking behind the curtain to look out at the empty communal bathroom. The one that was supposed to only be for you as you were currently the only female tenant in the building. Heart thrumming in your chest, you quickly finished your shower and turned the water off. Your mind felt frozen as you began drying off and dressing, trying to make sense of what you heard.

Peering out into the hallway, you felt a mix of relief and confusion wash over you to see it was empty. You knew you heard something, you were so certain it sounded like a person was in the room. 

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Hello there! Could you write an obsessive yandere jungkook (who has an oppa kink) stalking his mechanic crush (that’s younger than him) and wondering what she keeps her so busy whenever he asks to hang out with her and come to find out, she turns out to be a yandere too after placing tracking devices in the majority of his posessions? This doesn’t make any sense tbh T^T

Hidden Blessing

✂ Pairing: Yandere! Jeon Jeongguk x Yandere! Reader

✂ Word Count: 1,7k+

✂ Trigger Warning: Obsessiveness, toxic relationship, stalking, reader being a yandere for the first time

✂ This story is fictional and for amusement only. I don’t believe any of the members would do this in real life. As always, thank you for reading and I hope you have a good day!

Donot re-upload my writing to another website or use it without mypermission.

[Edited]

***

Yandere reader, huh? I’ve certainly never tried this before, but I do think about it once in a while. And also, I don’t know much about mechanical stuffs. So, pardon me if this came out strange and Jungkook wasn’t obsessive enough. I feel a bit tired recently.

If you like mywriting, please support me on ko-fi!

“I want you to want me. I need you to need me. I’d love you to love me. I’m beggin’ you to beg me.” – I Want You To Want Me [Cheap Trick]

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Strangers (Chapter Four)

Strangers from Hell AU

Series Masterlist

pairing: ot7 x reader

genre: yandere, horror/thriller

warnings: murder, mature themes, obsessive/possessive behavior, emotional manipulation, stalking, violence, allusion to torture, blood and injuries (will update as needed)

word count: 4.3k words

The sun beat down on you as you walked along the beach, the sand between your toes as a tidal wave came in and washed them. You gasped as you spotted a ghost crab hole appearing.

“Dad, look! Another one!” You exclaimed, pointing at it and turning around to look at your father. He came up beside you, kneeling closer to your height.

“Good catch, kiddo.” His voice echoed in your ears. You had lost count of how many of these burrows you had found, but your dad seemed to never get tired of you pointing them out. If he regretted teaching you about them while you were still so young and excitable, he never showed it.

You knelt down and started scooping some of the wet sand to build something - you weren’t sure what yet. Your father stood up, patting your head affectionately as you worked. “I’m gonna go for a dip. I’ll be right back.”

You huffed angrily as a wave destroyed your sandcastle a third time in a row. Abandoning the impossible project, you turned around to look back at the water. You spotted your dad pretty far out, much further than you would ever dare to go. He was bobbing along the big waves and when he caught you looking at him, he smiled widely and waved.

You watched him for a while before you noticed a giant wave approaching him. It was bigger than any wave you’ve ever seen before. Even from where you sat safe on the sand, it scared you. You begin waving your arms and screaming for your dad’s attention and when you finally got it, he just gave you another clueless grin.

It all happened so quickly. The huge wave washed over and took your father with it, completely catching him by surprise. You watched helplessly from the shore, waiting for him to resurface but he never did. You were numb to the tears falling down your cheeks as wave after wave washed over your feet, burying them deeper into the sand as if trying to drag you in as well.

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Strangers (Chapter Three)

Strangers from Hell AU

Series Masterlist

pairing: ot7 x reader

genre: yandere, horror/thriller

warnings: murder, mature themes, obsessive/possessive behavior, emotional manipulation, stalking, violence, brief description of a dead animal (will update as needed)

word count: 5.4k words

A few days had passed and you couldn’t believe it had been almost a week since you moved to this city. You felt like any moment now you were going to wake up and be back in your childhood room. It was all so surreal. Your mother had checked in with you a few times already, and you could tell she was trying to hold herself back from being a helicopter parent. She was worried and you understood that. You couldn’t imagine how she must feel as a single parent with her first child moving out but at least she had your younger brother to hover over now.

You still hadn’t told her about how you were treated at work or any of the drama at your residence and you didn’t plan on telling her any time soon. You knew that if you did, she would beg you to come home immediately. This wasn’t your first run-in with a bully. Growing up in a rough public school, it felt as if there was always an arrow on your back. It all felt like a blur now but all you could remember was your mother being so concerned for you and you didn’t want to awaken that part of her again. An overwhelming need to prove yourself had come over you, not wanting to run home to your mother after the first inconvenience.

Besides, things seemed to be improving. Well, they hadn’t gotten any worse so you figured that was a plus. Jiwan still gave you dirty looks and acted as if you were a nuisance so you hadn’t bothered asking her for help anymore and thankfully, she didn’t say anything to you at all. And your roommates seemed as chipper as ever. Ever since Soomi had left, they seemed much more comfortable at home. Their chatter carried throughout your floor whether they were in the kitchen or hanging out in one of the bedrooms and you somehow didn’t even mind. It was weird how fast you felt yourself warming up to them but you supposed it was the way they treated each other like a family, which they were now seemingly including you in.

Like right now, as Jungkook had practically begged you to join him in his room to play one of his video games. There was no way you could resist those big doe eyes and the way he held your hands so tenderly as he cornered you in the hallway. He was ecstatic when you finally agreed and that was how you ended up sitting on his bed with your back to the wall facing his large computer screen. He had quite the gamer setup, something you were shocked to see due to the small living spaces the residence offered.

He sat cross-legged next to you on the tiny bed, close enough for your legs to brush but you didn’t feel uncomfortable. Something about Jungkook was just so endearing that you felt like he could almost get away with anything. You could tell from the way the others babied him and how much he would turn the puppy dog eyes on you that he was used to getting what he wanted.

“Press these two at the same time if you wanna do a cool combo move.” His knee bumped yours as he leaned over to point at some buttons on your controller. You followed his instructions, causing your character to injure his character. “Ah, noona! I’m on your team!”

“Oops, sorry Kookie.” You smirked, watching in amusement as he focused on getting his player far away from yours. You don’t remember when you started calling him that but now it was hard to stop.

It was nice to get a break from adult life and enjoy some downtime with your new friend. You can’t remember the last time you let loose like this. Ever since you’d graduated high school, the stress of work and life had been set on your shoulders. You two continued to play for a while and you found yourself getting so engrossed in the game that when the door suddenly burst open, you actually jumped in shock. 

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Strangers (Chapter Two)

Strangers from Hell AU

Series Masterlist

pairing: ot7 x reader

genre: yandere, horror/thriller

warnings: murder, mature themes, obsessive/possessive behavior, emotional manipulation, stalking, violence (will update as needed)

word count: 5.5k words

quick note!! I had to make some edits in the last chapter bc I realized two plot points were missing so to summarize: yn has a boyfriend named Jihoon that also lives in the city and Nayeon is the friend that got her a job at the company! not major plot points (and they’re only briefly mentioned in the last chapter) but just wanted to put this out there in case you were confused reading this one :)

Today’s the big day. You thought you would be nervous but right now, all you feel is excitement. You finally get to wear the professional clothes you bought recently and you feel like a real adult in them. You opted to wear a gray pencil skirt today as it’s still pretty hot outside, paired with a blue button-up blouse. You slip on the heels and inwardly thank your mom for forcing you to wear them around the house the past few weeks in order to break them in. A quick once over in the mirror gives you all the confirmation you need to start your day.

You try to ignore your clicking heels echoing in the hallway as you fish through your bag for the granola bar you stuffed in there earlier. You don’t see Jimin standing there by his office door, which he takes advantage of as his eyes rake up and down your figure.

“Good morning, YN!” You jump as you look up and see him smiling at you, his abrupt greeting causing you to almost drop the breakfast you had finally dug out.

“Good morning, Jimin.” You bow politely, fully ready to move past him when he stops you again.

“Sorry if I scared you.” He laughs warmly, stepping closer to you. “I just wanted to say I heard that things got a little rowdy last night and I hope you weren’t too freaked out.”

“Oh, yes well-”

“It’s normally not like that at all. We’re usually very quiet and respectful here.”

“I understand. It can get like that sometimes with a lot of people living in the same place.” You try to inch towards where the stairs are when he subtly moves closer, blocking your path again.

“You’re so considerate!” Jimin coos, tapping your arm in a friendly manner. “Unlike that other girl, she’s a real trainwreck.”

Your eyes widen at his blatant gossipping, not expecting him to speak so negatively about one of his tenants. “You mean Soomi?”

“Yes, she runs with a pretty rough crowd so it explains how violent she is.” His words give you pause as you take in this new information, not sure whether to believe him or not. “But don’t worry, you won’t be seeing her around anymore. She packed up and left this morning.”

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Strangers (Chapter One)

Strangers from Hell AU

Series Masterlist

pairing: ot7 x reader

genre: yandere, horror/thriller

warnings: murder, mature themes, obsessive/possessive behavior, emotional manipulation, stalking, violence (will update as needed)

word count: 5k words

summary: You are finally moving out of your hometown and following your dreams of living in the big city. With an internship at a successful company and your friends living close by, you feel like things are finally working out. 

Sure, your apartment might not be the most glamorous and your new neighbors are a bit strange but that’s normal for a first time living away from home, right? Everyone had warned you about how evil the world could be but it wasn’t until you moved there that you started to understand how strangers could be a real hell.

You were finally doing it. Getting out of your hometown. It had been a long time coming as you were ready to move out as soon as you graduated but when your father fell ill shortly after, you couldn’t just abandon your mother to take care of him and your little brother all by herself, not to mention the family business that needed a new manager. So you stayed. You stayed until eventually death came for your father and then you stayed for when the depression hit your mother so hard she couldn’t get out of bed for days at a time. When you weren’t working, you were the one to make sure your kid brother finished his homework and ate all his meals. It was you that took care of your zombie-like mother until she came back to herself.

And now everyone was back on their feet and you felt like it was the right time to leave, especially because you had been accepted for an internship program in at a successful company that matched well with your college degree. Throughout your college years, you decided to stay living at home to help your family as well as save money. Your longtime boyfriend, Jihoon, had moved to the city a year ago after he graduated and you had been dating long distance ever since. But, you couldn’t waste any more time in your small hometown. This was your big chance and you weren’t going to miss it.

The sound of your mother’s voice calling your name could barely be heard over your suitcase rumbling down your driveway. You curse inwardly, scrunching your face up in annoyance at yet another obstacle stopping you from leaving. You were so close to freedom you could taste it.

Looking over your shoulder, you saw your mom carrying a bag of prepared meals that you surely couldn’t finish by yourself. You knew this was coming which was why you had tried to book it out of there. So much for that plan.

“Mom, I can’t carry all that,” you eye the large bag warily. You appreciate the sentiment but you were trying to be independent now and this wasn’t helping.

She ignored you and began making quick work to tie the bag to the handlebars of your suitcase so that you wouldn’t even need to hold it. Once finished, she stood back up and made a satisfied huff, “There!”

“What? I have to make sure my baby eats! You expect me to let you go hungry?” She exclaims in response to your deadpanned look.

“You have to let me find my own way now.”

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