Risa

-𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩-

| 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤 |

A friend of A friend |

[ Gangster! Jungkook x Reader ]

𝘈𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘬 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘦 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘸𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘸 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘶𝘯𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳.

𝘊𝘩. 1 | 𝘊𝘩. 2 | 𝘊𝘩. 3 | 𝘊𝘩. 4 | 𝘊𝘩. 5 | 𝘊𝘩. 6 | 𝘊𝘩. 7 | 𝘊𝘩. 8 | 𝘊𝘩. 9 | 𝘊𝘩. 10

𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘪𝘯 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴…

Confined |

[ Neighbor! Jungkook x Reader ]

𝘠/𝘯 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘵𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘢 𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘴𝘦𝘹 𝘵𝘰𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘤 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘯𝘰 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴, 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘵-𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘳 𝘯𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘣𝘰𝘳 𝘑𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘬𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦.

| 𝐉𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐧 |

The Mess We Leave Behind |

[Namjoon! x Reader! ] [ Jimin x Reader!]

𝘍𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘶𝘴𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘥'𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘰, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘶𝘯𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘷𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘺.

𝘗1 | 𝘗2

| 𝐘𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐢 |

𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘪𝘯 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴…

| 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐤 |

𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘪𝘯 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴…

| 𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐣𝐨𝐨𝐧 |

𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘪𝘯 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴…

| 𝐉𝐢𝐧 |

When It Rains |

[ Meteorologist! Jin x Reader ]

𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘯 𝘶𝘱 𝘵𝘰 𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘪𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘨𝘶𝘦 𝘚𝘦𝘰𝘬𝘫𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘩 𝘰𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘦𝘵 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺 𝘢 𝘨𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘤𝘦𝘴𝘴, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘥𝘥𝘦𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘻𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘶𝘯𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨.

| 𝐓𝐚𝐞𝐡𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐠 |

Periculum |

[ Kim Taehyung x Reader ]

𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘸𝘦𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘥, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘧𝘶𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦. 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘺 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘥, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘨𝘳𝘪𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘣𝘢𝘥 𝘤𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘰𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘶𝘯𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘨𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘪𝘵.

Perhaps it was the call with Jin that he had left you so uneasy, the fear that Jungkook would somehow find about your meetings still causing you apprehension or Perhaps, it was the adrenaline still coursing through your veins or the voices that spoke relentlessly in your mind. 

voices that kept you on edge, depriving you of peace. They reminded you of the danger you found yourself in, luring you into staying alert at all times. The Jeon family was out to get you and that was an undeniable fact, it didn't matter that you were Jungkook's wife anymore, not that it ever really mattered. You were an enemy now, equal to any competition or foe they needed to get rid of. It was obvious now that you were a threat and you weren't sure if the feeling was exhilarating or completely terrifying. Yet, underneath the fear that filled your throat at times, in its company remained a feeling of utter satisfaction. 

The screen flicks shades of blue against the dim living room walls, the anchorwoman sat swiftly behind a polished desk, papers clutched between manicured fingers. Images flashed across the screen, yellow police tape fluttering in alleyways and local clubs and bars. the red and blue lights staining the wet pavement. 

"the attacks appear random" she continues, "though investigators have confirmed similarities between the scenes, witnesses report groups of armed men entering these businesses and beating individuals, though none have disclosed or identified any of the perpetrators."

a scoff crawls past your mouth, a dry laugh going with it. It was comical to think that anyone with an inch of common sense would identify Jungkook and his Posse. It was comical to think that anyone else could be behind this. Only a man like your husband would be so reckless, so destructive. It took only a few hours for word to get back to you about his senseless rampage in the quest to find you, following leads that led him nowhere, of the less than friendly visit he had paid Yoongi. 

Jungkook had gone to Yoongi first, you had deduced that in his mind the plan had been too deliberate, too calculated to be the work of someone he believed had spent her entire life sheltered from the underworld. In his mind, there had to be someone else pulling the strings, someone with the experience and ruthlessness to orchestrate such a precise attack against them. You know it burned him to see the both of you together at your anniversary dinner. It's not like he was wrong, yet he was so accustomed to underestimating you, for your threats to mean nothing. Yoongi was the obvious target. 

You recall Yoongi's call after Jungkook's visit, it had been brief but unsettling nonetheless. The images of Jungkook storming through his club, guns blazing replaying in your mind. the man who once operated in between shadows now finally stepping foot into the spotlight and all because of you. 

The camera shifts to a weary reporter standing outside of a precinct downtown, his hand gripping a microphone.

"Police have yet to release any suspects" he spoke, his voice muffled by the noise around him. "but sources inside the department claim pressure is mounting rapidly with the commissioner assigning a new detective on the case."

"another sell out" you whisper bitterly. 

it amazed you the way the police lied to its citizens, disheartening really. You knew better than anyone that nothing would come out from said 'investigation', not while the entire police department received their cut from the Jeons but illusions were needed, people needed to feel safe and what better than a lie.  

"in other news-"

the tone of the anchorwoman's voice shifts and it catches your attention, you fix your posture slightly almost expecting what her next words will be. you had been watching the news every night since the banquet, hungrily watching the coverage of the aftermath, it had been exquisite no matter how watered down the news was given. The media could only accomplish so much and eventually threats had fallen onto the laps of every network, newspaper, and journalist in the country. though you didn't expect anything less from that family. You kept watching, feeding off the scraps they fed you and the public, regardless of how reluctant they were to share the news. 

"The newly elected governor Jeon Min-Jun has released a statement following the shocking scandal following his victory at the polls."

His photograph appears on the screen beside the anchorwoman; the criminal smiles proudly at his victory, champagne raised high while cameras flash around him.

"Governor Jeon's administration is facing mounting scrutiny after explosive allegations surfaced during his gubernatorial acceptance banquet. What was expected to be a celebratory event quickly descended into chaos when evidence was presented linking several individuals within the governor's political circle to an extensive criminal enterprise involving illegal arms trafficking, money laundering, and systemic corruption, by none other than his daughter in law."

The anchorwoman chooses her words carefully, her tone seeming reluctant but it doesn't surprise you. Perhaps like many others, the words she chooses decide whether she gets to live another day, your heart begins to race within your chest. 

"as many will recall, this is not the first time the Jeon family has found itself at the center of public controversy" she adds, "just over a year ago, the marriage between Jeon Jungkook, the only son of Governor Jeon and Miss Jeon Y/n, daughter of Austrade group CEO Kang Seong-min, dominated national headlines. The union of two of the country's most influential families was widely viewed as a strategic alliance." 

the broadcast cuts away from the newsroom. 

The anchorwoman's composed expression dissolved into live footage, the camera settling on the grand press hall of the governor's office. bright flashes from dozens of cameras illuminated the room in relentless bursts, their rapid clicks blending into a deafening chorus as journalists jostled for position behind a line of security barricades. a forest of microphones bearing the logos of every major news network crowding the polished mahogany podium emblazoned with the provincial seal. 

"My family and I are appalled by the recent lies and malicious accusations made in an attempt to tarnish my name and the integrity of this administration. These allegations are entirely false, unfounded, and part of a calculated effort to undermine the trust the people have placed in us." you stand from your seat, your eyes scanning every pixel of the screen as they zoom into his face, anger begins to surge through your gut and your jaw locks.

"This is an incredibly difficult time for our family. As many of you know, my daughter-in-law , Y/n, has been struggling with personal and mental health challenges in recent months. out of respect for her privacy, we have remained silent and offered only our unwavering support. Our concern for her well-being remains unchanged."

you freeze, your whole body stuck as if struck by lightning. The disgusting words he expels from his mouth leaving you breathless. mental health struggles? your stare falters and you move closer to the t.v as if somehow you have misheard him. a sick and heavy feeling settling in your chest. A ripple of whispers spreads through the sea of reporters, pens hastily scratching across notepads as camera shutters erupt once more. 

He's painting you out to be crazy, to be a liar. your stomach twists and turns and soon you feel tears begin to pool within your eyes. Not sadness, not humiliation but rage, pure and unfiltered. 

"We sincerely hope she receives the care, compassion, and guidance she needs during this difficult period, and we anxiously await her safe return home, where she will always have the love and support of our family." 

before you can watch further, the screen turns black. you stare at it for a moment, your eyebrows knitting in confusion and you turn to look for the remote control. You lift up cushions and throw them around the room carelessly and then your eyes meet Jimin's as he stands in the entry way, the remote in his hand. He holds a stare you can't decipher. It's not pity or anger like yours, but something far more compassionate. 

"I was watching that" you struggle to get the words out as the knot within your throat presses against each one of them. 

"what a shit show" Jimin breathes ignoring your comment and placing the remote down onto the side table next to the sofa. In his other hand, he carries a bottle of rum and 2 empty glasses. you quickly bring your hand up to wipe away the tears that you hold onto, not allowing them to slip past the brim of your eyes. He shuffles over to the sofa and plops down next to you with a huff. you turn back to the screen where moments before you had been painted as a nut job. 

"Come" Jimin calls out  for you "have a drink with me." 

Lately, it had been only the two of you roaming the vast home, you were appreciative of his company but at this very moment it was beginning to irritate you. He usually sat in a corner, a laptop on his lap, losing himself in the glow of his screen, his fingers flowing through the keys but tonight he was doing something completely different. 

Jimin silently moves to pour the brown liquid into the glasses and slides one in your direction. you stare at the cup for a moment, you shouldn't drink anymore. It was the rational thought, it wasn't smart to drink knowing that you were being hunted down, not with the mental state you were currently in but it also didn't sound like a bad idea, given the mental state you were currently in. 

"got tired of typing and lurking?" you sighed, taking a seat across from him. 

"i never get tired of typing and lurking" he chuckles. 

"can you really do all those things from a laptop?" you recall Jimin's skills, the things he is capable of with just a click. how he can hack into live security cameras and hack into hospitals, banks, government records. how he could change someone's identity, erase one too. no firewall competent enough to challenge him, a foreign language which he understands so well. 

Jimin laughs softly, leaning back into the sofa. 

"and some wifi."

"I'm serious" you nod, pulling your knees onto the couch. "You talk so casually, but the world is intertwined between your fingers." 

A sense of normalcy hangs over the conversation, rid of the darkness which has enveloped you the past few days and for a moment you forget about the words that man has said. of how he has reshaped your entire experience, your entire identity. You allow yourself to settle into it comfortably and your chest hurts a little less. It feels good to act normal, to pretend that you lead a normal life. 

"You make it seem bigger than it is," he shrugs. 

"you can erase someone from the face of the earth" you shoot back. 

"allegedly" he corrects "don't forget about that."

"See?" you giggle. 

Jimin smirks and takes a drink from his glass. 

"Fair enough" he nods. 

"how did you start?" you ask. "were you just born hacking confidential files or something?"

"no" he snorts. "I was fourteen and bored."

"typical villain origin story" you hum. 

"I wasn't doing anything illegal" he clarifies "not at first."

you both laugh this time, the sound of your mixed cackles filling the room and pouring into the hallway.

"I just liked figuring things out. games,websites,apps...then school grading systems, phones" he shrugs again. "people noticed."

"criminals you mean?" you interject, stating the obvious. 

Jimin gives you a glance, as if your statement catches him off guard. 

"lets just say you are the most ethical employer ive had" he stares at you, a small smile curving into his mouth. 

"What kind of things do you do for them?" 

he taps his fingers once against the glass in his hand, contemplating the answer that hangs from his throat. he isn't used to being questioned. he usually operates from behind a screen, most of the people he works for have never seen his face. he hangs his head for a moment before bringing his stare back to you. 

"depends, i set the limits of my labor and theres lines i wont cross" his tone turns serious, carrying a certain coldness within it. "Sometimes they need me to steal money from accounts, sometimes they need me to erase footage, steal identities, deploy malware that encrypts files to then demand payment in exchange for a  decryption key."

"and it doesn't bother you?" you ask. 

"You say it like im commiting murder" he responds. 

"but you are committing crimes" you state. you don't mean to be harsh but your words are tense and filled with certain judgement. In reality, you want to know how he could do the things he did and not be tormented by it, in the way you usually were. 

"Everybody around me commits crimes" he responds, pouring more rum into his glass. 

"that doesn't make it normal."

Jimin stops his hand and leaves the bottle to hover over the cup, his eyes drifting up as if thinking of what you have just said. He nods slightly while he registers your words and then moves to finish pouring the bitter liquid until he's satisfied with the amount. 

"no" he admits quietly. 

"It just makes it familiar."

there's a short silence, you realize that perhaps you have been reflecting your inner demons onto him. Not everyone has been born with the privilege that you have. you once had options to be anyone that you wanted to be, without restrictions. As you stare at Jimin, it is obvious that he didn't have many options, didn't have liberties to decide between a respectable career or a life of crime. 

"my turn" he smiles cheekly. 

"Shoot" you sigh, hoping that he can be more compassionate than you had been. 

"alright" he nods and then chuckles whilst you fiddle in anticipation. 

"how the hell did you end up in this situation?"

The question is heavy and honestly, you don't know how to answer. the whys and hows still remaining as puzzle pieces that you've urged yourself to put together plenty of times before. you realize that you have been so out of the loop of whatever it was that occurred a year ago that you remain pensive for a moment, focusing your eyes on the cup in your hand. How exactly did an affluent wealthy girl end up in the grasp of the most prolific criminal family in the country?

"Well, once upon a time" you hum humorously, the rum beginning to weave into your senses. 

"I was a normal girl" you shrug "wealthy of course, my biggest problem being an ugly manicure or split ends and then one day, i walk into my fathers study and there he tells me" you pause, a bitter taste coating your tongue. "Y/n, you are going to get married."

"sick" Jimin comments, almost chuckling. 

you bring that moment forth in your mind, something you hadn't wanted to revisit for sometime. you had just returned from university, fingers still holding the blue ink from your pen. you had run towards your fathers office the moment you heard he was home and you entered his study with ignorant bliss. That day he sat pensively on his desk, his eyebrows furrowed as you entered. He had never looked that torn but at the time you had been too careless to question it, nevermind be bothered by it. 

"Dad?" 

he sat behind his mahogany desk, his stare withdrawn. There were papers sprawled in front of him, his jaw tightened. silver streaks at his temples catching the dim light. He looked as though he had been sitting there for days, brewing in a certain frustration. 

"im back" you smiled, as foolish as you were back then. 

a distracted hum left him, the reaction unsettling you. Usually, he would stand to greet you, ask about how school was going, complain about how much money he was investing into the university only to then secretly brag about your accomplishments to every person he encountered but that day, none of those things happened. 

you approached carefully, obediently. 

"Is everything okay?" 

your father raised his head to look at you, a hardened expression remaining on his features. 

"I've made an arrangement" he exhaled through his nose and leaned back. 

"an arrangement?" you questioned. 

"yes," his voice was clipped, he had never seemed as cold as he had that day. "it will benefit my company and our family." 

you waited for some kind of clarification that never came. At the time, the entire situation was strange and you couldn't wrap your mind around it but you followed everything your father said because you were a good daughter. 

"you are to be married" the words had struck harder than a slap across the face but you stood still. you had reassured yourself that if your father was making this decision, it was because it was worth it. You didn't dig deeper because your father would never do anything to hurt you. 

that day you had left his office feeling empty, the feeling never leaving your company since. 

"it isn't unusual" you say "arrange marriages y'know."

"People always think it's something that only happens in books or movies but rich people always seek to marry their children off to people of the same status, i mean historically around a third of executives from South Korea's largest conglomerates marry within elite business and political circles to build influence."

Jimin leans his head to the side, pushing some of his hair back. His face contorts with confusion. 

"Okay but like how did you find out the Jeons were criminals" he asks "I mean sure they have loads of money all of it cant possibly be legal but how did you come to find that out?"

you giggle slightly, throwing your head back in amusement. It isn't funny really, the moment you had found out the truth behind your marriage you had been sick to your stomach but now there was nothing left for you to do. the past was in the past, what mattered was what you would do now. 

"After 6 months of trying to live a normal marriage I realized that was never going to happen" you hummed. "Jungkook would avoid me like the plague, speaking to me through my assistant, i mean most of our few interactions were spent in complete silence or in arguments so i did what any normal person would do, I tried to have our marriage annulled."

"and yes at the time i was gullible enough to believe that the Jeons were a legitimate family, i unfortunately did not know them enough to think any differently" you state. 

"Jungkook found out about the annulment and he was pissed."

"Let me guess, another argument?" Jimin chuckled. 

"something like that" you hummed. 

Jungkook stepped inside the house without a word, shrugging off a dark coat before handing it to one of the many guards standing outside. Even after a fourteen-hour day, he looked composed, sharp. black suit, loosened tie, and exhaustion hidden beneath expensive control. 

his stare faltered once his eyes landed on you, something in his expression turning cold. 

"you went to court." 

it wasn't a question, it was a statement. 

your throat tightened in his presence, at the calmness in his voice. You always knew Jungkook was composed, cold. He carried the same aura as his father, distant. you could be standing next to him in a room and yet, feel him to be a thousand miles away. the stillness and ease in which he carried himself making him someone you could never read, not that he had ever allowed you to in the first place. 

Jungkook removed his tie in a swift movement as he walked further into the home, dark eyes never leaving yours. He carried the faint scent of tobacco and expensive cologne, the scent lingering behind him.

"You should've talked to me first," he snapped. 

you laughed, faintly.

"Oh, you mean through your assistant? and then you would have her negotiate your way out of us parting ways of this miserable marriage we have been forced into?"

"miserable" his expression changed as if he were surprised by the choice of word. 

"you don't speak to me" you continued, anger finally spilling past the fear. "you barely look at me unless we're in public, i live in this house like im to be preserved behind glass."   

Jungkook's jaw tightens slightly at your statement but he does not open his mouth to contradict you and you don't know what angered you more, the ease in which he accepts your words or the fact that he had done nothing to fix it.

"Do you think distance means indifference?" he asks. 

"what else am i supposed to think" you spat.

He allowed silence to come again, his stare remaining on you for what felt like forever and you shrunk underneath it, he reached behind his back and pulled out a yellow manila folder from his waist line, tossing it onto the table standing between the both of you.   

"open it."

"What is that?" you questioned, your eyes never leaving his. 

"open it" he repeated, this time more sternly. 

you leaned forward, reluctantly picking up the folder and opening it, retrieving various pieces of papers. They were bank statements, at first they didn't make sense to you.

transfer reports. 

investment accounts. 

corporate holdings. 

₩ 98,000,000,000. 

your stomach dropped at the sum in front of you. your eyes remained on the paper for minutes as you tried to make sense of the information in your hands. You felt stupid, humiliated. Why was he showing you this? Why did this money matter to you?

"What is this?" you raised your stare to look at him. 

"my family's investment into your fathers company."

the room went still, your hands began to tremble. Your mind ran wild with questions. It was if something was missing and you couldn't quite grasp the complexity of the situation. 

"investments?"

Jungkook held your stare, flinching slightly at the tears that began forming in your eyes. 

"illicit funds" Jungkook nods. 

your heart thundered in your chest and the room began to spin in circles. your father, his company - all the hard work he had done to get where he was, now held by a thin line willing to snap at any moment. your eyes filled with hatred at the man who stood in front of you. 

"no" you sobbed. 

"we needed legitimate channels to move funds without attracting attention" Jungkook's voice remained steady. "your father's company was large enough, respected enough." 

you had to fix this, there was no way you would allow this to happen to you, to your family. You had been married off to a criminal, to an animal. your father couldn't have known, he would have never put you in this position, put his business in this position. An image of your father flashed through your mind and your whole body jolted in shock. 

there was something you could do, speak to his investors. return the money, something needed to be done. 

"illicit?" your voice trembled. 

Jungkook didn't answer you immediately as if he were fighting against his better judgement but you weren't prepared to hear the answer either, at that time you had been so naive to weigh the gravity of what his answer could do to you, to your life. Sometimes you wished he had just lied. 

"weapons" he shrugs as if it means nothing "our shipping companies move weapons through ports across east asia." 

"modified rifles, military-grade parts, black market distribution" he spoke as if he were speaking to an investor or a business partner, not his wife. 

the world fell upon you like a bucket of ice cold water, momentarily leaving you stunned. Your mind further convinced you that there was an out of this, the money had been flowing through your fathers company for a year now, rotting everything from the inside out. 

"You're lying" you bit back. 

"I'm not" he said carelessly. 

you stared at him in horror, he was a criminal. one of the worst. What could he be capable of if you crossed him? you had wanted to run, from him and from the truth that was too heavy for you to digest but you didn't then. 

you cursed yourself for never realizing how this family operated, always assuming they held the same work ethics as your family but none of that was real. The secrecy in which they moved, you always assumed they valued their privacy but it had always been something far more cruel, much more distasteful. 

"You're telling me your family is laundering money through my father's company?"

"You are a criminal," you whispered. 

"yes" he confirmed. 

he moved closer until you could smell his cologne clinging to his clothes. You didn't dare move, feeling vulnerable and unsafe. You loathed the feeling he brought out of you now, he stripped away your armor and left you exposed to his harshness. his gaze dropped briefly to your lips. the movement small, barely noticeable. 

Yet, it sent heat rushing painfully through your chest. 

His warmth wrapped you and it felt unusual, the way this man who remained cold as stone at all times could radiate such a feeling inside of you. You tried to reason with yourself but to no avail, none of this made sense. not his words, or his actions. not the short distance he kept between the two of you. 

"you can't divorce me, Y/n" he murmured, his voice soothing against the ache he had caused. he stared deeply into your eyes, his doe eyes staring into your soul and you knew for reasons you couldn't comprehend at the time, that he was right. He was right and it filled you with hot anger. You raised your hand in a swift movement and slapped him across the face, the action causing you to gasp. 

His face remained turned away for seconds too long, the imprint of your hand red against his pale cheek. You wished you had done more, you wished you could’ve killed him right there and then. When he turned to face you again, his eyes held no anger and it drove you mad. 

"You know why I never touch you?" he hums. The question was intimate and it made your heart spring forward, his stare haunting. 

he reached out slowly, fingertips brushing the silk sleeve of your blouse from your shoulder before fixing it back into place with maddening gentleness. If you didn't know any better, you would think he cared for you but you knew that wasn't true and the yearning it caused inside of you spread like wild fire. 

"i stayed away because i knew what would happen if i didn't" he assumed and you scoffed silently. 

"and what would happen?" you asked sternly. 

his hand lingered against your arm a second too long, your heart stumbling harshly against your ribs. 

"if you continue with the annulment, people will start investigating why my family invested such an amount into your fathers business" he spoke, ignoring your question "he'll be investigated, dragged through court, destroyed publicly" his voice dropped lower as if sharing a secret "and if my father thinks your family has become a liability..."

"Okay wait" Jimin sits up, intrigued by the characters in front of him. 

"You're telling me" Jimin says slowly, "that your husband's family moves illegal firearms across international ports..."

"and distribute them, yes" you respond. 

"and they pushed nearly a hundred billion won through your father's company?"

Jimin stares at you for a long moment, his expression of a child learning quantum physics. through his eyes you can sense his brain attempting to piece a puzzle together but is not quite convinced by the results. 

"bullshit" he shakes his head. 

"huh?" you furrow your eyebrows in confusion. 

"No way that's the whole story" he states simply. 

"You think I'm lying?" your eyes flicker with irritation, your cheeks beginning to grow flushed. you feel like a child that has been wronged, like someone has taken something from you and you try to clarify that it's yours, your truth. 

"i think you're being irrational" Jimin points towards you "which makes you stupid to reason."

His bluntness catches you off guard, anger bubbles inside of you. Maybe he can't understand what you've been through. It's hard to explain to an outsider the things you've endured, the endless nights mingling with loneliness, being tracked in your every move as if you were a prisoner. It was always hard to explain that feeling to someone. 

Jimin produced a cigarette from his pocket, lighting it between his palms and inhaling sharply. 

"The Jeon family has political influence, cops and judges in their pockets, shipping companies, overseas accounts" he exhaled the smoke from his lungs. "if all they needed was a laundering operation, they could've picked any corporation in the country." 

you stare at him blankly, his words causing your stomach to tighten. You had been so sure of your idea of what the truth could be that perhaps you hadn't allowed yourself to see the situation for what it was. your head pounded painfully, a storm of questions brewing inside your brain. 

"They picked my father because he's legit," you explain sternly. 

"thats part of it," Jimin agrees. 

"but families like that don't tie themselves legally to outsiders unless there's another reason."

you breath in sharply, you want to challenge his opinion but there's a part of you that has constantly questioned the notion that other motives existed in the plans the Jeons had so efficiently made, Jungkook could've lied or he could've only shared one part of the whole story but you never allowed yourself to think past what you had experienced. 

"there isn't" you can't help but sound like a child, throwing a tantrum.

Jimin glances in your direction, his stare compassionate yet stern and he notices the grim expression on your face. 

"Y/n, i dont mean to upset you" he begins and you can tell he means it. "But please, criminal organizations don't arrange marriages for financial gain but powerful men absolutely use marriage to keep what they want close." 

in retrospect, Jungkook didn't have to marry you to launder money into your fathers company and its not like he sold your father on the idea of joining both families in order to obtain his ultimate goal, he had been pushing money into your fathers company a year before you even said your vows but you brushed the idea away, your jaw tightening. 

"You said Jungkook kept his distance from you after the wedding?" Jimin blows another puff of smoke into the air and you shift in your seat, clearing your throat. 

"yes" you respond faintly. 

"He slept around?" he followed, your head snapped in his direction and your eyes narrowed. 

"what?" 

"You heard me?" he smirked. 

"Y-yes" you responded. 

"i mean there were rumors, women would stare and whisper when i walked by, i assumed these were true." 

he was cheating, you were sure he was. You barely saw each other, he had all the time to be unfaithful and it's not like he owed you anything. The rumors started trickling in two months into your marriage, women whose names you didn't remember or perhaps you didn't want to remember. they weren't shy to share details of how they heard that someone who knew someone who was friends with someone got bent over by Jungkook and fucked raw. it had filled you with hatred, worse of all jealousy. 

"But you've never had concrete proof? Women's perfume on his clothes? underwear that didn't belong to you? his eyes trailing behind women as they walked past?" you blink, trying to recall any of those things happening but you're left empty handed. the rumors were there, they lived in your brain and echoed inside when you felt most self-conscious.  

the questions overwhelm you, your chest feeling heavy. Honestly, Jungkook only ever looked at you when you were in his presence but you know it was always to keep appearances, the more in love you appeared, the more tightly knit your marriage looked. It has always been an act. 

"touch you?" Jimin continued. 

your throat goes dry, thinking of the few times he made contact. holding your hand on your anniversary, the way he soothed you through a panic attack that night. The way he held onto your cheek during the last argument you both had, the way he always seemed reluctant to hurt you, easing his harshness with his touch. 

"barely.." you whisper. 

Jimin's expression shifts immediately, like he could build a rocket ship. puzzle pieces coming together that once had been a maze. It pisses you off beyond comprehension. He looks as if he knows something you don't and you're the topic of this dreadful discovery. you shake your head and put your glass down before you turn to face him completely. 

"Jimin, stop that" you sigh. 

"What do you mean?" he chuckles softly. 

"I know what you are doing," you snap. "I know what liking someone feels like and I know what love looks like and nothing Jungkook has ever done has ever been that." 

"Y/n, that man is in love with you." 

heat crawls uncomfortably onto your cheeks. Your face twists with disgust, hating the way his words accelerate your heart beat. you’re both obviously drunk, the bottle of rum almost empty. He was just making shit up as he went, probably trying to get back at you for your previous line of questions. there was no way on this earth that Jungkook felt even the barest of liking towards you. 

"That's ridiculous" you shake your head, snatching the cigarette nestled between his fingers and taking a long drag. 

"oh really?" Jimin perks from his seat, accepting the challenge. "Think about it logically, step away from the hatred for just a moment and ask yourself why a man like Jungkook wouldn't just take what he wants? men like him aren't known for restraint Y/n."

your head begins to spin and you want nothing more than to push yourself from your seat and punch Jimin straight on his jaw. 

"Jimin, im this close to killing you" you state. 

"Okay, okay" Jimin laughs, throwing his hands up in the air. 

"Seriously" his voice is calmer now. 

"If things were different, if you had met Jungkook under different circumstances..." he trails, leading you into a corner you have no doubt you would have no way of getting out of but you allow him to continue, your drunken thoughts allowing more intrusions into the deepest part of your brain. fuck, if any of your enemies wanted to get any information out of you all they had to do was give you rum. 

"do you think you would have fallen in love with him?" 

you trace the outline of Jimin's head as you allow the question to sink slowly. Of course you've pondered on this question plenty of times. you exhale through your nose, drunk enough to entertain the question and you open your mouth to answer. 

Crack. 

The echo of automatic fire rips through the room like thunder trapped indoors. Bullets tear through the walls in violent bursts, chewing plaster apart. The lamp beside the couch detonating in sparks, the once well decorated living room now being ripped to shreds by the bullets that collapse into it. 

"DOWN!" Jimin roars. 

he grabs you harshly by the shoulders and yanks you off the sofa just as another spray of bullets rips through the air. The world around you turns loud, the bullets booming through the air and soon your ears ring painfully. The sound makes your whole body vibrate in complete fear. Deafening gunfire, splintered wood, glass raining like confetti.  

your bodies slam into the hardwood floor behind the couch. you try catching your breath, hands rising to cover your ears. You can feel your heart beat against your palms now, dread beginning to pool in the pit of your stomach. you blink towards the perforated walls, the entire living room destroyed. shredded couch cushions, floating through smoke-filled air like snow. 

The smell of sulfur burns your nostrils, your widened eyes trailing back to Jimin. 

"we need to move!" Your voice is barely audible through the sound of bullets flying through your home but Jimin nods in understanding, trying to find the safest route for the both of you to take. 

two figures burst through the hallway and you are ready to fight, you are empty handed but there's no way in hell you are dying without a fight. your trembling hands form into fists and brace yourself for whatever comes next. a lion bearing its teeth prepared to kill whoever steps in front of it. 

"Miss Y/n!" they shout, returning fire. 

They are your men. 

"move!" one of them barks. 

one of the guards slides across the kitchen floor on one knee, rifle already raised. The second plants himself beside the archway into the living room. Their eyes are sharp, their movements practiced. violent choreography. they have probably run this moment in their minds various times, running through every possible scenario. 

The front door cracks inward with a loud boom, the hinges flying off and then gunfire erupts rapidly again. 

A muzzle flashes light into the home in savage white bursts as both men respond toward the entrance. The roar of assault rifles inside the enclosed space shaking the foundation violently. 

"take these!"

two pistols slide across the floor, landing besides you. Jimin grabs one quickly, checking the magazine with practiced speed. you follow his actions, your hands trembling underneath the weight of the loaded gun. 

another down pour of bullets fall and you snap your neck, peering through the entrance. The first guard leans out from cover, firing controlled bursts toward the entrance. 

"Three at the front, more at six o' clock" Jimin yells. 

Jimin rises just enough to fire over the sofa, his finger kept on the trigger skillfully and three shots ring out. one of the assailants drops near the doorway. two others dive behind the ruined frame, taking cover from Jimin's bullets. You could make out the sound of glass crunching beneath boots as more men repositioned. 

How many were there? Was Jungkook such a coward that he had to bring an entire cavalry just to kill you?

the window that stands behind you explodes, glass bursting through the room like shrapnel. Your eyes widen but before you can react, Jimin's hand grabs onto your arm and pushes you forcibly onto the ground, his other arm pushing the sofa over. Bullets tear into the living room in vicious succession, practiced brutality.  

the bullets chew through the home's plaster and fabric, lamps and paintings that earlier adorned the space erupting into pieces next to you. The sound is loud, rapid, and relentless and it leaves your body trembling. You have never seen anything like this, have never felt death so close to you. No preparation could have readied you for this, no shooting range or self defense classes. You were in uncharted territory. 

the moment a shadow crosses the blown-out window, you curse the day you had decided on this house, on the tall windows wrapping the entire first floor. You had envisioned rays seeping through, allowing the sun to live inside with you. You fire instinctively, the recoil punching through your arms. You don't know if you've missed but the figure disappears backward with a grunt. 

everything becomes fragmented chaos. You lift yourself from the ground, both you and Jimin firing before taking cover by the hallway. Gun smoke, screams, shell casings across tiles, and the suffocating scent of burning. you peer through your cover, attempting to catch a glimpse of Jungkook's face. 

you wanted to see him in his attempt at killing you, you wanted to kill him.  

one of the guards staggered suddenly as rounds punched through the wall behind him. 

"shit" he yelped. 

you fire your gun, grabbing him by the vest and dragging him behind cover, firing blindly one handed toward the entrance. You search his body and spot a bullet lodged into his leg, blood beginning to dampen the fabric of his pants. 

"fall back!" you shout. 

you notice the men at the entrance are retreating, followed by the shuffled steps of the men standing by the windows. outside, tires screech violently. there were more of them. you were severely out-numbered and completely losing your mind. Anxiousness began to fill inside of you. 

Another burst of gunfire came farther down the street, leaving echoes in the woods surrounding the home. 

your eyes search for your phone, you need to call Yoongi. He could be here in minutes with his men but as you searched the floor, the phone laid cracked, a bullet hole right in the center of the screen. Silence crept its way into the home, not peace but absence or the stillness that it takes to reload a weapon. Dust floated through the air that now appeared like those images that flash on the news of war zones. 

"They're pulling out," Jimin muttered, breathing heavily. 

Jimin moves carefully toward the destroyed front entrance, gun raised. 

"DONT!" you warn instantly. 

headlights flash across the broken windows, blinding you momentarily. A second vehicle sweeps in, the entrance door flyers open and your heart climbs into your throat. men pour out with assault rifles already raised, you lean forward grabbing Jimin by the shirt and yank him back behind the wall. The newcomers march in with terrifying precision. 

four men, then six, then more. 

their boots thunder across the broken floor, moving like professionals. cold and coordinated. you know they are prepared to kill anyone who stands in their way, if the bullets weren't enough proof. 

"clear the left!" one of them shouts orders. 

"kitchen secured" another one responds. 

"Hallway."

you hold your breath, your finger sitting on the trigger, gun pointed toward the head of the man shouting orders. This was your chance but your heart trembled. you have never taken a life but you knew it was either you or whoever was coming down that hallway. 

"We have to go, now" the injured guard huffed. you inhale sharply and along with Jimin, help him get back on his feet. 

"go, I'll cover you," you say, nodding at Jimin. He hesitates but he knows it's  what needs to be done. You aren’t strong enough to carry the injured man but as it turns out, you are a much better aim. 

you watch the men get closer, their steps halting at the staircase. The man who you assume is their leader, instructs two other men to head upstairs, he has a raven tattoo on his neck and you focus on his eyes, they’re empty like a killer's eyes would be. He instructs two of the men upstairs and your stomach drops. the girls...your girls, they are in one of the bedrooms upstairs. 

"the girls" you breathe. 

you feel the hallway stretch for miles, you push off the wall and run towards the staircase. the sound of your steps catching the attention of the gun men, bullets ringing as you take cover behind one of the wall columns, returning fire. 

"Y/n!" Jimin shouts.

you look back at him, desperation flashing through your eyes. you needed to get to them, they would have no mercy and you couldn't allow them to die like this, not them. they meant everything to you, the last string of normalcy that existed in your life. 

Jimin didn't need to say anything, his gun firing bullets as he ran over to you. the first guard following suit. 

"There's three here" you speak in a hushed tone. "The others are probably looking for me elsewhere. They can't make it to the second floor." 

"Me and Jimin will take them, you run upstairs" he nods. 

Jimin is the first to shoot, the guard following suit. gunshots ring back and forth, you take a deep breath and run. from the corner of your eye you see Jimin overpowering one of the men, snatching the rifle from his hand and smashing the butt against his head. 

you run like your life depends on it because it does, not only your own but the lives of Ha-yoon, Nali, and Boram. your breaths are struggling, your chest heaving as you reach the second floor. you run along the corridor, reaching the last bedroom. your fist pounds on the door quickly.

"Ha-yoon" you yelp "Nali, open the door."

there's silent shuffles, then the sound of furniture being dragged. the door swings open, their widened terrified eyes look at you filled to the brim with horror but also filled with life. You relax momentarily, reaching for them. 

"Y/n" Ha-yoon yelps, looking right past you. 

you turn quickly and raise your gun, the bullet leaving the magazine before you can even register who stands there. The man falls to his knees and scrambles to take cover behind a wall.  

"come on" you command, the girls follow behind you. their trembling frames doing their best to stay close to you. Jimin appears in front of you, a rifle now in his hand. 

"Is everyone okay?" he asks. 

you don't answer, you push past him and peek through the wall, on the floor lies the bodies of the guard and sob chokes in your throat. you count five men, all of them looking up, rifles in hand waiting for slaughter. you take a deep breath, closing your eyes. you feel like a mouse trapped in a maze that you yourself have built. 

"Your bedroom leads towards the woods, we can go there and climb down the balcony" Ha-yoon says. 

"We don't know if there's more of them outside," Jimin sighs. 

you clutch the pistol in your hand tightly. Ha-yoon, Nali, and Boram stand close together, their pale terrified expressions burning holes into your brain. shouting echoes from the first floor, bringing whimpers to erupt from their chests. 

"We have no other choice," you breathe. 

you can hear the men downstairs, the metallic sound of their guns reloading, your stomach twists in anticipation and you try to conceal the uneasiness that brews inside of you. 

the corridor appears longer than you remember, you try to steady your thoughts. to be calculated as you've been taught but nothing could've prepared you for this. moonlight stretches across the wooden floorboards in pale strips, at the end sat the bedroom door, the last option at survival. 

between you, vast empty space. nowhere to hide or take cover, exposed to the savages on the first floor. A burst of gunfire explodes upward from downstairs, bullets tearing through the railing beside you. They were growing impatient, they had killed both guards but were still looking for blood, looking for you. 

"go!" you yelled. 

Everyone ran, the corridor lighting with flashes of their automatic weapons. bullets punched through the walls around you, splintering apart. you fired downward toward the staircase, hitting one of the men on the arm, the gun falling from his grip. 

another burst came from below and then silence, you had made it to the other side. you shook with violent thrill as you turned to face the others, a victorious smile on your face but theirs didn't share in your gleam. Instead they remained gripped with horror, you followed their stare and your stomach dropped. 

a wet sound left Boram's lips, her body collapsed onto the ground. 

the room began to spin around you, the ringing in your ears making a cold return. blood spread beneath her stomach where she had been struck by two bullets, her young eyes widened in confusion. 

"Boram," you screamed. 

"no no no no no no" you dropped to the floor, crawling beside her. Your hands shook uncontrollably as you tried to apply pressure to the wound but her blood trickled through your fingers in a rush. 

"stay awake Boram, stay awake you hear me!" 

you could hear the screams of the others behind you but you couldn't register their words. Boram choked underneath you, her body jerking as her eyes began to roll to the back of her head, blood spilling from her lips. 

"Boram, please" harsh sobs rocked through your body. 

Jimin turned, firing the automatic gun down the staircase before rushing toward you. 

"Y/n" he whispered "we have to go."

"she's bleeding" you cried, her blood was warm against your skin, the crimson liquid thick, its metallic scent reaching your nostrils. Another round of bullets rang inside the house but you didn't flinch. your eyes fixed on Boram. she looked younger than she was, the fear in her eyes leaving an imprint in your mind. she was terrified, she was dying. her fingers weakly curled around your sleeve, blood coated lips opening to speak. 

"Miss Y/n" she gurgled. 

"No," you objected. "Boram, I'm going to get you out of here, I promise." 

you cradled her in your arms, her body growing limp under your touch. 

"I'm going to get you out of here" you sobbed. the tears that flowed through your tightly shut eyes, felt cold against your cheeks. You could feel your heart shattering into a thousand pieces, guilt holding each piece apart. She was dying because of you, you had put her in danger and now she was dying in your arms. 

"Y/n" Jimin warned. 

"Jimin we have to bring her" you shouted "help me get her out of the ground!" 

"Y/n, we can't" he responds but it's not an answer you are willing to accept, you attempt to pick her up but her weight brings you back down. 

"Please Jimin, we cant leave her here" you whimper "we cant leave her alone." 

pain explodes through your shoulder, burning and painful and you let out a loud scream. Warmth surges through your body, all your senses burning angrily. the bullet that has struck you, spins you sideways and onto the floor. 

for a moment you can’t breath, heat flooding though your arm, sharp and nauseating. Blood seeps through your sleeve. you hear Jimin's gun go off once more and then he's grabbing onto your other arm, dragging you into your bedroom. you watch as Boram inhales sharply, her chest rising and falling in struggling heaves and her eyes, her once beautiful bright eyes now lifeless. 

then the door slams shut. 

the world becomes a blur of smoke, blood, and pain. you don't remember leaving the house, one moment you are laying on your bedroom floor screaming Boram’s name until your throat burns raw. the next, you were running. branches clawing at your face as you stumbled blindly through the forest bordering the house, the darkness swallowing you whole. Your lungs begged for air, each breath tasting of ash and iron. 

the gunshot wound in your shoulder throbbing with each step. 

no. 

it burned. 

each movement threatening to tear you apart. Warm blood trickled steadily down your arm, dripping from your fingertips onto the forest floor. you barely noticed, everything sounding and feeling distant. As if you weren't even there, as if you were a passenger in your own body. Your legs moved without permission, tree after tree blurred together until they became nothing more than dark silhouettes passing in your peripheral vision. 

all you could remember were Boram's eyes. the way they had slowly lost their light, the blood on your hands that did not belong to you. the apology you didn't have enough time to say. 

"I'm sorry Boram" you whispered. 

The forest slowly gave way to quiet streets. streetlights cast pale pools of gold onto empty sidewalks, illuminating streaks of dried blood across your clothes. People passed or maybe they didn't. you couldn't remember. no one stopped you, no one looked twice at the woman wandering through the sleeping city covered in soot and crimson. 

time no longer existed. minutes, hours...you couldn't tell. 

you all had stopped walking but you couldn't register what was happening, then Nali and Jimin walked in the opposite direction and Ha-yoon held onto your arm tightly, could you use your legs? Why did you feel like you were floating? 

your feet carried you somewhere long before your mind realized where you were going, a familiar home. lights illuminating your path, a brass nameplate beside the door. 

Kim.

you stared at it blankly, why were you here? your hand lifted almost on its own then three faint knocks. silence. another and the world began to tilt drastically. the sound of the electric lock turning sounded muffled against the deafening ring inside your ears and the door opened, the light from within exposing your torn appearance. 

"Y/n?" 

Jin stood frozen in his doorway, still dressed in the same clothes he'd worn hours earlier. His eyes swept over your face before dropping to the blood soaking your blouse. His expression shattered. 

"I-" but you couldn't form any words, couldn't tell him anything that could appease him. The last thread that is holding you together snaps and with it, your knees. the world turns black as you collide against his body. 

-

can my girl get a break?

© 𝐂𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞, 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

Then you spotted your friends. 

A familiar booth near the back, an endless reservation that was accommodated to you and your friends by the owner who held a warm spot for you guys. He knew every Friday you would all arrive. Sometimes together, sometimes separately but always here. 

Three of them already sat crowded around the table, drinks half-finished, hands animated as they talked over one another. A smile tugged at your lips, of course they were already drinking without you. You were the last to arrive though you lived only a few blocks away, 40 minutes late to be exact and of course their impatience had won over waiting for you, as expected. 

As you began weaving through the maze of tables, several heads turned. Not because you demanded attention, not that you ever really tried to but because there was something effortless about the way you carried yourself. Confident without arrogance, attractive without appearing aware of it. You waved at some of them, regulars like you and your friends who preferred this small bar over all the others in the strip. 

“Shes here!” Mi-sun called, words already slurred. A chorus of greetings followed causing you to roll your eyes fondly. You couldn't lie, you had been looking forward to Friday ever since last Friday ended. You and your friends had met in college, bonding over the hardships of testing and failures and had been inseparable since then. Though, all of you had followed the path of your own lives you all had promised to meet in this small bar every week, a promise that all of you had kept for the past 4 years. 

“About time,” Ji-ho says. “We were about to order your drink and probably get it wrong.”

“You always get it wrong” you tease and laughter erupts. 

The irritation you had carried from work all day began to ease as you approached the booth, it was the way it always was. It didn't matter what problems you faced during the week because you knew you could always come back here, with these people. People who you related to and who carried the same weight on their shoulders as you. 

Of course, it all couldn’t be perfect because as you got closer you spotted him. 

Your steps faltered almost imperceptibly, there he was. He leaned lazily against the leather booth as though he owned the damn place. One arm stretched across the backrest. The other loosely held a glass of whiskey balanced between long fingers. Dark hair slightly disheveled. Shirt sleeves rolled carelessly to his forearms. Looking entirely too comfortable. 

And entirely too pleased with himself. 

Of course he was here, sometimes you thought he just showed up to spite you and perhaps that was the truth. You could feel the stress build inside the pit of your stomach and your good mood that had sprouted effortless inside of you, soon began to sour. The worst part wasn't even that he was attractive, no. The worst part was that he knew it. 

Every expression Min Yoongi wore seemed crafted specifically to annoy you. like he was brought into this earth to be a pebble in your shoe, like having to pee after getting comfortable in bed, like a sneeze that wouldn’t come out, like losing your keys while you are running late for work. Inconvenient, annoying as fuck. Especially the expression he wore this very moment, a slick smirk spread across his face. 

He noticed you, his eyes meeting you from across the room. Warm brown, steady and utterly infuriating. The corner of his mouth lifted higher and there it was. That look, that smug evil look of his. As if he could already predict exactly how this interaction would go. He probably practiced at home, finding new and abundant ways in which he can make you lose your mind. 

You fought the urge to turn around and walk straight back out the door. Instead, you continued toward the table. You needed this terribly, time with your friends and a couple of cold beers with a few shots of green apple soju inbetween. This week had been the hardest you had ever had to endure and no matter how much that prick got on every single one of your 100 billion nerves you wouldn’t let him ruin this night for you. 

“Well” Yoongi drawled before you’d even reached the booth. “Look who decided to grace us with her presence.”

Several of your friends immediately groaned, preparing themselves for what usually came with having the both of you in a room together. You imagined them preparing mentally before any plans you all made where the both of you would be present. 

“Dont start” Gina moaned, passing you a small glass of white liquid. 

“Seriously” Woo-jin called from where he sat “shes been here for like what 5 seconds?”

You ignored them, bringing the sweet liquid to your lips and taking it down your throat in a swift gulp. Ignoring him was usually impossible, but you liked to make the effort. Sliding into the empty seat, you sat your purse down and offered your friends a bright smile. 

“Hi everyone.”

Then, without missing a beat glancing in his direction:

“Who invited the dog?” 

The table exploded into laughter and his grin widened, his intense stare only growing more suffocating as he leaned closer into the table. His attention had been beckoned and you knew he was going to give you hell for it but you weren’t scared, not Min Yoongi of all people. 

“Oh, we’re doing this tonight?” he chuckled. 

“We do this every night.” you snap, your eyes falling into a cold glare, the annoyance rippling through your temples. 

“But oh how much fun is it?” Yoongi shrugged. 

“Not fun at all actually,” Woo-jin answered. 

Your eyes collapse into his, a mistake. His expression held no annoyance unlike yours, not offended or even surprised, he looked completely entertained. Like this was his favorite part of the evening, like he’d been waiting for you to walk through the door. Something tightened unexpectedly in your chest. Irritation, absolutely nothing else. 

You held his gaze for one second too long before looking away, which he noted distinctively and judging by the knowing look that flashed briefly across his face, he was already preparing whatever insufferable comment that would come next. 

Absolutely wonderful. The night had officially begun. 

A server appeared beside the table before more insults could be exchanged between the both of you. 

“The usual?” she asked, taking empty beer bottles from the table in experienced precision. 

“Please” you nodded with a lazy smile. 

The server nodded and disappeared into the crowd again and for a few seconds, conversation shifted elsewhere. Work complaints, vacation plans that might never make it past the group chat or maybe will if you all coordinated appropriately, Ji-ho shared details of a disastrous blind he had recently suffered through the previous week. You could finally feel yourself relax again, sinking deeper into the booth. Maybe, tonight wouldn’t be so bad but then Yoongi opened his mouth like always fucking did. 

“So,” 

Immediately, everyone groaned again. 

“No” Ji-ho protested. 

“Leave it alone.” 

“Don’t”

“What?” Yoongi asked innocently. “Im making conversation.”

“You’ve never made conversation a day in your life” Mi-sun stated, narrowing her eyes on him but he ignored her, his attention fixed on you. Dangerous attention, attention you utterly despised. Like a wolf deciding whether or not it wanted to bite. 

“So” he repeated, taking a sip from his glass. “How’s what’s-his-name?”

The table collectively winced and your jaw tightened at the reaction. Of course, of course this was where he’d go. A month ago you would’ve pretended not to care, probably would’ve laughed it off or made a joke to lighten the mood but now you were simply tired. 

“Dude” Ji-ho sighed. 

“What?” Yoongi asked. 

“You know what” he replied sternly. 

“I was just asking a question” Yoongi answered simply. 

“You were being an asshole,” Gina added. 

His gaze never left you as the group scolded him, his eyes melting into yours and no matter how badly you wanted to cut him in half in that very moment, you held your composure. He wouldn’t see you crack, not when it was the very thing that he wanted and you weren’t about to give it to him. 

“Same thing, apparently.”

The server arrived almost in comical timing, sliding the fresh poured beer right in front of you. You took a gulp before answering, licking the foam from your lips and allowing a heavy breath to flow out of your lungs. Honestly, you didn't even know what to answer but you had to, you couldn't allow him to embarrass you in front of your friends. 

“Dont know” you shrugged carelessly as if the bare mention of the man didn't make you want to shrink into the booth you sat in. 

“Really?” he asked mockingly.

“Really” you replied dryly. 

“Huh.”

The sound irritated you more than it should have. The single syllable, the tone. As though he’d been expecting exactly that answer. You wish you could throw the beer in your hand straight in his face but that would be a waste of good cold beer, he wasn’t worth it. 

“I forgot about him,” Gina sighed from across the table, her big round eyes trying to dissipate the hatred in the air. 

“Wish I could,” she muttered soon, unable to hold the lie in her mouth. A few sympathetic looks came her way. Everyone had watched the entire thing unfold. At first they’d tease you, because you never took anyone seriously, you never cancelled plans and never disappeared. Never allowing yourself to rearrange your life for a man but one day, you suddenly had. 

You’d skip out on Friday nights, missed birthday dinners, even turned down weekend trips which you were always the first to accept. You spent months carving out space for someone you genuinely thought might matter and then he’d vanished. No argument, no dramatic break up, just slow retreat. Texts unanswered and plans cancelled. Disappearing through excuses that ultimately left nothing for you to grasp onto. 

The realization had been humiliating, not because you had lost him but because you had cared enough to be hurt. 

“Honestly”, Mi-sun said carefully, “he wasn't worth it anyway.”

“No,” you agreed quietly. “He wasn’t” 

“Dont worry Y/n, one day you will find yourself a beefy handsome man” Woo-jin promised before throwing another shot into his mouth. 

“Why beefy?” Gina asked, furrowing her eyebrows. 

“That’s one way to put it” his voice flowed through the chatter in the bar like glass cracking in a silent room. You closed your eyes briefly, attempting to digest his voice the best way that you could. He was fucking relentless and you cursed at yourself for even replying. His voice scaled different heights of irritation, so much that sometimes you wished you could go deaf if it meant not having to hear him. 

You looked across the table, Yoongi was studying the amber liquid in his glass. He looked careless, relaxed yet you could tell his mouth prepared to pour ammunition straight at you. You allowed your top lip to quiver in annoyance, your eyebrows furrowing instantly. 

“Do you have something you’d like to say” you asked. 

“Oh, plenty” he responded, exposing his lips in a clever smile. 

You could feel the air shift around you, your friends beginning to adjust their postures. They perceived your arguments like lab rats that had been shocked into compliance, the both of you instilling trauma that they would never recover from. Like parents arguing at the dining table, tossing hatred from one end to the other. It probably was exhausting, frankly you were exhausted too. 

“Abort mission” Ji-ho whispered. 

“Don't,” Mi-sun begged. 

“I'm serious” Gina warned. 

Words that you both ignored. 

“As i recall,” he said, “everyone could see that guy was a disaster except you.”

The words landed harder than you had expected, not because they were cruel but because they were true. Somehow, making his statement worse. The signs had always been there but you had decided to ignore them, hell the man didn't even like your friends. Often referring to them as the ‘geek league’. You hadn’t even tried to defend them, laughing it off as if it was some kind of joke. You laughed….you laughed. 

And yet, they were the ones here with you now, not him. You couldn't bring yourself to expose that part to them because you knew it would hurt, you swallowed the guilt only allowing it to resurface in your weakest moments. You had been a fool and it tormented you inside. 

“Funny” you uttered bitterly, your brain prepping the hurtful words you would use against him. If he was insolent enough to go as low as to shame you for your failed love life then you would meet him down in hell. Two could play this game and you weren't one to back down. 

“Is it?” he raised an eyebrow. 

“Very” you leaned forward, resting both elbows on the table. Offering him an unpleasant smile. 

“Coming from the man who cant keep a serious relationship if his fucking life depended on it.”

The table erupted into a mixture of gasps and chatter, loud cackles adding a cherry on the top. 

“Oh my god.”

“No you didn’t Y/n!”

“She absolutely did.”

“I mean she’s lowkey right dude, probably gonna marry someone when you’re like 70 or something”

Yoongi stared, the smug expression on his face finally cracking. Success.you could hear imaginary fireworks cracking in the background, Ji-ho reaching over to give you an award for the best comeback known to human kind. You cried into the microphone, thanking your mother and father for their efforts in raising you to be a cold blooded bitch who could end the man in front of you with a flick of your tongue. 

“Actually, correction” your smile widened. 

“Your last girlfriend left you for a baseball player after she went to to the game alone with the tickets she bought for your anniversary which you forgot” you added “typical of a self centered prick like you”

Ji-ho nearly choked on his drink, causing Woo-jin to double over in laughter. 

“Yoongi,” he scoffed. 

“Yoongi, tell me that's not true.”

You could see his jaw tighten and your smile spread in victory. You had struck a nerve and you would ride that high until the end of times. He wasn’t deserving of any mercy, if he wanted to embarrass you now the both of you would be. It was only fair. 

“It wasn’t our anniversary” he spoke, annoyance now riding in his stare.

“One year together and you forgot the date” you judged. 

“It wasn’t-” he began. 

“She literally had to remind you” you interjected. 

The entire booth dissolved into chaos, for the first time all evening, you felt like you were winning, hell for the first time in the entire month you were finally gaining something rather than losing. Yoongi leaned back against the booth, watching you. He wasn't laughing nor did he seem embarrassed. He just watched, the noise around them fading slightly. His gaze held yours, steady. Uncomfortably steady. Then one corner of his mouth lifted, slowly and dangerously. 

“Oh, good,” he said after a few minutes. 

Your stomach sank, you knew that look. It was familiar and agitating. It wasn't over, matter of fact he was just starting. He wouldn't go down without a fight and you knew it, he couldn't let you have anything not as long as he could draw air into his lungs. He was an asshole in that way. 

“What?” you asked. 

“There she is” he pointed at you, that smirk returning. 

“What does that mean?” 

His eyes flickered, something softer appearing for half a second before disappearing completely. Leaving you to wonder if it had been there at all. 

“You’ve been miserable for weeks” he states and the laughter around the table gradually dies. Nobody speaks, nobody moves because the conversation was taking a turn and they knew it. You knew it, you could feel it in your bones. His gaze remained locked on yours. 

“You stopped showing up” his voice grew quieter. 

“You stopped answering calls.” 

Something in your chest tightened as he listed ways in which you had failed your group of friends and though, they had been supportive. Often telling you it wasn't that big of a deal if you needed a break, the guilt inside of you persevered. You hated it and you also hated how much Yoongi could see you, how he could just stare at you and know what you were feeling. You could never hide from him, it was detestable. 

“Yoongi-” Mi-sun began. 

“No” he snapped in her direction, swirling the whiskey in his glass. 

“You want to know why everyone hated that guy?” his eyes lifted from his glass and back to you. 

“Because he made you disappear.”

The booth fell silent, you couldn’t even think of a comeback. There wasn't a joke settling in his tongue this time, his tone sincere. There was no smirk that followed either, no teasing or bickering, just pure filthy honesty. Which somehow irritated you more than all the insults combined, it would've been easier if he’d simply kept being unbearable. 

“And I don't mean that in the sense of you skipping out on us” disappointment flashed across his eyes as he spoke directly to you “I mean like you didn't even show up for yourself Y/n.” 

Silence stretched infinitely, uncomfortably. Far too long for a group of friends that normally filled every second with noise. Your body recoiled against it, you noticed how everyone suddenly seemed interested in their drinks, sympathetic glances being passed around like a hot potato. 

His holding pity. 

You looked away first, shifting in your seat and bringing the glass of warm beer to your lips but not allowing yourself to take a drink from it. A knot settled in your throat and you wanted to cry, in fact you wanted to sob. 

“Well,” you said lightly, forcing a laugh. “This got depressing.”

The spell of silence broke immediately, the chatter picking up and you sighed with relief. 

“Oh good” Gina whispered desperately. 

“We’re back.”

“I was about to throw myself through the window,” Woo-jin chuckled. 

Mindless conversations resumed, relief spreading through the table. Subjects changed and discarded and the complaints returned. About their bosses, about the economy, about how much rent has gone up. Someone ordered another round and soon, the tension dissolved or maybe everyone just pretended it did. Certainly, you did. 

Yet, every few minutes you found yourself aware of him, not looking at him but aware that he was there. Noting his laugh, the scrape of his chair when he moved to sit more comfortably, the occasional brush of his arm against the booth. Exasperating. 

Hours passed and soon the group began to thin whilst the alcohol began to rock you from side to side. Woo-jin had work in the morning, Gina had a babysitter waiting. Checks were paid and belongings were gathered. Promises were made about seeing each other next weekend but somehow you felt discouraged to agree yet, you would show up, you had to. 

Soon only a handful remained. 

Then three.

Then two. 

And somehow, through what you would later insist was a conspiracy to have you make amends orchestrated by your scheming friends, you found yourself standing outside the bar with Yoongi. 

Alone. 

The door shut behind almost too loudly, the sounds of the bar muffled instantly. The chilled air of the summer night swept through the lively street, the bars and restaurants with their neon signs glowing around you both. Streetlights reflected off damp dark pavement. In the distance, you could hear traffic vibrating, music leaking faintly through the walls of nearby businesses. 

You wrapped your arms around your frame, regret filling inside of you due to the choice of outfit you had picked when the sun was still hanging in the sky. Its rays no longer keeping your skin warm. 

“You don't have to stand there” you glanced at him momentarily then fixed your eyes on a couple that walked past. 

Yoongi looked down from where he leaned against the brick wall, his eyes taking you in for the first time since you both had walked out in complete silence. 

“Don’t tell me what to do” he chuckled, his tone slurred like yours. Both your bodies swaying under the slight buzz of the alcohol running through your veins. 

“I’m not” you replied, noting the way he didn't seem to look away from you. 

“Yes you are” he spoke almost instantly. 

“Do you really have to argue with me about everything?” you snapped, rolling your eyes. You both stared at one another, the familiar irritation returning immediately. Comforting, somehow. 

“Where’s your car?” you asked. 

“Shop” Yoongi responded simply, stuffing his hands into his jeans. 

“Again?” you retorted. 

“Unlike some people, I don't buy a new car every time a tire loses air” he mocked, making mention of your poor ability to sustain a healthy car. Maintaining a car was challenging for you to say the least, like what the hell did the radiator need water for? Or did it? 

“Why are you so annoying?” you shot back, unable to defend yourself against his factual claim. 

His grin appeared, that stupid grin. The one you disliked entirely too much. A gust of wind lifted loose strands of your hair, without thinking you ticked them back your ear. Yoongi watched the movement, his expression changing subtly. So subtle that you almost missed it. 

Almost. 

Something warm settled unexpectedly low in your stomach, you immediately rejected it. 

“Stop looking at me like that” you whined. 

“Like what?” he asked, raising his eyebrow. 

“You know exactly what” you replied. 

“I really don’t.” 

“Liar.” 

A car horn sounded somewhere down the street, neither moved. Neither seemed eager to leave which made no sense because you both had spent most of the time arguing but then again…mabe that wasn’t entirely true. Arguing implied wanting the conversation to end yet the ones you held, never did. You both could last days bickering, saying things that you would regret later on but never apologize for due to ego which kept the both of you bound to a certain hatred and annoyance. 

The realization struck you suddenly, you wondered if the reason Yoongi annoyed you so much wasn't because you truly disliked him but because he was one of the only people who could consistently get underneath your skin and worse, one of the few people you never seemed capable of ignoring. 

When you first met him, you actually got along. Not immediately but better than either of you would ever admit now. You had been studying in the library for a biology test, back then Mi-sun had been your lab partner and had bragged about how cool her friend group was and how you would meet them in the library and surely, it had happened just like that. Everyone was loud, outgoing, and eager to make friends with you, besides Yoongi that is. 

Yoongi has always been sarcastic and observant whilst you were confident, stubborn, and refused to let anyone intimidate you. Naturally, you had gravitated toward each other. You’d end up in the same conversations, the same debates always standing in the opposite stances. You challenged each other and it was enjoyable, at first. 

Then everything turned into a competition. Who was right, who got the last word, who could get under the other’s skin faster. Your friends thought it was hilarious, the two of you secretly enjoyed it until one night. A few years back, you were seeing someone, not seriously of course. Casually. He had cheated, not a devastating heartbreak but enough to embarrass you. 

Honestly, you were hurt. 

At a gathering shortly afterward, Yoongi had made a joke. To him, it was meant to lighten the mood but you, it felt cruel. 

‘Well, maybe next time don't date a guy whose known for throwing his dick at the first girl who walks past’

Everyone had laughed, you had too. Outwardly, in fact but you would never forget those words because that was the last thing you needed at that time. You wanted to feel reassured, supported. For your feelings to be validated and instead, you had received a joke. From that moment forward, you started seeing him differently. 

“You know,” he said quietly, “he was an idiot.” 

Your stomach tightened, you knew who he was referring to or perhaps, all the men he was referring to which had come into your life like storms tearing everything in their path. Your heart, your confidence, your self-worth. 

“Yoongi-” you warned, voice trembling. 

“I’m serious” his eyes lingered on you, his expression fixed. 

“You deserved better than that.” 

Your stare faltered, it was strange to see him this serious. You were waiting for him to laugh, to tease you again but his words hung in the air, the punchline never arriving. You didn't know what to say and neither did he, you both stood in silence again. Two people who never seemed to ever shut up, now speechless. 

“If i had someone like you-” he started which made you snap your head in his direction. The statement rang inside your ears, the buzz in your brain beginning to melt away. Your gut twisted anxiously as you waited for him to finish what he wanted to say. 

“I would never hurt you like that” Yoongi shrugged, his eyes traced the outline of the buildings in front of him but your stare remained on him, allowing the silence to linger and wrapping itself between the both of you. His words left their trace inside of you. For a moment you allowed yourself to indulge in them, as if somehow the universe would allow something like a relationship between you and Yoongi. 

“I would remember our anniversary” he moved his face back to you and allowed a small chuckle to escape his lips and then it was like you were brought back to reality. 

“You are drunk Yoongi” you sighed, looking away from him. 

“Fine,” he nodded, "I am but you know what they say.” 

“Shut up drunk people are not honest” you scoffed. 

“Let me walk you home” Yoongi straightened, pushing himself off the wall with a loud huff. 

“I can get home myself” you replied, looking up at the grey clouds that covered the sky. The warning that soon rain would begin to pour. You were already underdressed, the last thing that you needed was to be caught in the rain whilst walking home. 

Yoongi snorted beside you, as if you had said something comical. You glared in his direction, you would really punch him in the face if he said something stupid. You were tired and intoxicated, there was nothing stopping you from assaulting him in front of this bar. 

“Sureee” his tone sarcastic. 

“I can” you bit. 

“Last month you got lost driving to a restaurant you’ve been to for three years” he laughed. 

“Okay, first of all, the road was blocked and I had to reroute” your voice was raised, irritation clinging onto it tightly. 

Soon tiny droplets began tapping against parked cars, against awnings, onto your shoulders. Yoongi sighed, his eyes narrowing up to the sky as if he were studying the drizzle that fell. 

“Come on” he urged you, stepping forward into the sidewalk. 

“I am not asking you to take me home.” 

“And yet, I’m taking you.”

“You always do this.” 

“Do what?”

“Meddle.” 

You watched his jaw tighten, the visible implication that your words were beginning to burn into him. Yet, it was always like this. It has always been so easy for the both of you to go from 0 to 100, to lose yourselves in the frustration that brought the presence of each other. 

“Are we doing this again?” This question was answered by the roll of your eyes and the pout that formed on your lips, a clear indication of the roaring argument that sat in your tongue. 

“Yes, we are doing this again” you retorted. 

The walk began anyway, side by side beneath the growing rain with an obvious distance to demonstrate that though you both walked together, you were in fact not together. The streets were nearly empty now, most people had already sought shelter but the sheer pettiness that existed in the both of you, moved your bodies forward. 

“You act like everyone needs your help” you cut through the silence and yes, maybe you should give it up. It was late, the night had ended but you were never too tired to set Yoongi straight. You needed to voice your grievances, you needed him to understand that he needed to stop acting like an asshole, as if the world owed him something.  

“I don't,” he groaned. 

“You absolutely do,” you snapped. 

“No, I help because apparently nobody else is willing to tell you when you’re making a terrible decision.”

You laugh, a sharp and humorless laugh. 

“See? That's what i mean” you grumble “why do you feel like you know better.”

“Sometimes I do” Yoongi responds, matter of factly. 

Your head snapped in his direction, his expression remaining maddeningly calm. The argument that had been simmering for years suddenly reignited. You can feel the pent up hurt and frustrations from previous altercations rising in your throat, ready to spill onto the wet pavement below you. 

“You know what your problem is?”

Yoongi groaned, throwing his head back and closing his eyes for a moment. 

“Here we go.”

“No, seriously” rainwater dripped from the ends of your hair but you didn't care. Nothing else matters more than to finally tell Yoongi everything that you had wanted to say for years, perhaps withholding them as to not offend too deeply, as to not impact the friend group you both valued so much. 

“You can't stand not being the smartest person in the room.” 

“Oh, that's really rich Y/n.”

“It is not”you huffed, the mixture of alcohol, the cold rain, and the sudden cardio leaving you breathless. 

“You think you’re always right” Yoongi shot back. 

“So do you!” you stopped walking, you stared at each other, rain beginning to fall steadily around you. The city seemed to disappear behind the droplets, the sound swallowing away the noise around the both of you. Yoongi ran a hand through his damp black hair, his eyes scanning his surroundings and then falling back on you. 

“You know what? Fine” his voice sharpened. 

“You want honesty?” 

You folded your arms, leaning your head to the side as if studying him. 

“Please.”

“That guy was a piece of shit, a complete utter disaster” his words were bitter, tasting sour as they left his mouth but he wasn’t known for withholding anything, specially when it came to you “i bet he was the one that didn't want you around us because he knew we would tell you the truth, open up your eyes about how bad he was for you.”

“You don't get to make those judgements” your voice faltered, cracking. 

“He disappeared Y/n” he muttered. 

“Thats my business Yoongi, who i decide to be with or not be with is my business” you only realized you were yelling when passersby stared curiously but that didn't deter you, you were done with trying to be civil. 

“He disappeared” the words landed between you heavily, for a moment neither of you spoke. Rain drummed against the pavement, against rooftops, and against the silence. You shook your head and sighed, you were over it.

“You always have something to say, can you just shut up and keep your opinions to yourself” you turn and begin walking again. 

“Y/n, i just say shit like it is and you don't know how to take it” you could feel him following behind and soon, he was walking beside you again. 

“You always have to make a joke” you whispered but regardless of how fast the rain fell, Yoongi had heard you clearly. Understanding flashed briefly across his face as you opened the old wound, the one neither of you had ever brought up regardless of the many arguments. It had been years and you still harbored those words as if he had just uttered them.

“I was just trying to help.”

“Help who exactly Yoongi? Your help is always done at my expense” you shouted angrily. 

Your neighborhood had long since fallen asleep, rain whispered through the narrow streets, softening the flow of the lanterns that lined the road. The storm had settled into a steady rhythm, turning the world into a blur. 

“Thanks for accompanying me,” you said coldly. 

Yoongi watched as you stepped towards the tall wooden gate guarding the entrance to your property. It stood nearly eight feet high, constructed from dark stained timber that had weathered decades of storms. The tiled roof above the gate curved gracefully outward, rainwater cascading from its edges in steady streams. 

Most people who passed by never saw beyond it. 

The walls enclosing the property stretched in either direction, blocking the view from neighboring homes and the road alike. You reached into your purse, your hands digging for your keys which kept jingling inside but you couldn’t reach. 

“You can go now” the words were tossed over your shoulder, dismissive and stern. Yet, Yoongi remained there, rain collecting on his black t-shirt, watching as you pushed the gate open. Warm light spilling from within. He had been here before during study sessions and holiday gatherings between friends but you had re-decorated since then.

A stone pathway wound through a carefully maintained courtyard, each slate stone darkened by the rain. Low lanterns lined the walkway, casting pools of amber light across the wet ground. To the left stood a small garden enclosed by carefully trimmed hedges and flowering shrubs. Beyond it, a grove of bamboo swayed gently in the wind, their leaves whispering against one another. The house itself stood at the far end. 

You stepped through the entrance, certain he would leave after seeing you walk inside. God, he was so pretentious. He wanted to act like a gentleman but he was everything but, what was his deal? But then you heard his footsteps and your body tensed. You turned slowly, watching as he followed behind you, the gate swinging shut behind him with a heavy thud. 

“You really don't know when to quit, do you?” his jaw flexed, rainwater sliding from his hair. For a moment he simply stood there beneath the lantern light, looking more irritated than you had ever seen him. 

Not angry, utterly frustrated. 

“No,” you remarked, "I don't.”

You lunged. 

Yoongi lunged at the same moment. 

Your mouths collided more than met, teeth and heat and four years of friction and arguments igniting all at once. His hands were in your hair, pulling your head back, and your fingers were clawing at his t-shirt, dragging him closer. Neither of you were gentle, neither of you wanted to be. 

“You’re infuriating” you gasped against his mouth. 

“So are you.” his teeth grazing your lower lip. “God, you’re so-” 

“Shut up.” 

“Make me.” 

The rain swallowed you whole, cold shock. Then his body pressing against yours, steam rising where your hearts met, your tanktop transparent, exposing the pink lace of your bra. You both stumbled backward, a tangle of limbs and dripping clothes and mouths that couldn't pull apart. The concrete was slick beneath your bare feet. When did your shoe come off? The rain kept coming, relentless, turning your loosened hair into ropes and your skirt in secondary skin. 

“I hate you” Yoongi growled, backing you against the wall, the rough texture there biting into your exposed skin. 

“I hate you so much i cant get you out of my fucking mind.” 

His hand reached for your throat, not squeezing. A warm weight, his thumb tracing the outline of your pulse, your hips bucked forward without permission, seeking friction, finding the hard line of his thigh. 

“Look at you” he breathed. “Look at you, needing me.”

“I don't need anything from you.”

“Liar” Yoongi whispered. 

His mouth descended. Not to your lips this time but to your throat, to the hollow beneath your ear, to the thin material of your top that barely covered your collarbone. His teeth scraped skin, and the sound you made was nothing you had ever made before. A whisper, a plea. 

His free hand was working at your tanktop, the elastic material giving away beneath his fingers. The rain hit your exposed chest, your nipples tightened into the aching material of your bra. Yoongi pulled back enough to look, water streaming down his face, his expression something between reverence and devastation. 

“I’ve thought about you like this” his tone is torn and horse “more than i should have.”

You can see all the thoughts he’s had of you between the years flow past his gaze, brimmed with desire and desperation. His expression makes your panties grow damp from the exhilaration it causes you. 

“Show me” you hummed “show me how long you’ve wanted this.”

Yoongi drops to his knees on the wet pavement, and the sight of him there, of this infuriating, arrogant, beautiful man kneeling in the rain sends a jolt straight to your core. His hands pushed your skirt up, bunching it at your waist. His mouth found the inside of your thigh, and you shuddered. 

The sensation of his tongue warm pressing against your cold, wet skin sent chills down your spine, your body shifting forward upon contact, a low hiss escaping your lips. His mouth moved along the trace of your inner thigh until it brushed briefly against the material of your panties, the fucker was teasing you but all you could muster to do was to blend your hand into his black hair. 

One of his hands reached up and held your waist, holding you steady and the other splayed across your belly, pinning you against the wall. His mouth landed against your clothed mound, the wet cotton sticking against your clip. He moved slowly at first, then harder. Hungrily. 

“Yoongi.”

His eyes raised to meet yours whilst his tongue drew out a long line in between your folds, the corners of his mouth rising as a smile spread across them. 

“Please” you begged, never in a million years did you think you would’ve ever begged for Yoongi but here you were, melting underneath his touch. 

“Please what Y/n?” he muttered and you shivered in response. 

Yoongi pulled the fabric to the side, his mouth now on your exposed clit. Bare, hot. His tongue parted you, his groan vibrating against your clit as he moved his mouth slowly. The rain was an afterthought now, just another sensation layered over the impossible reality of Min Yoongi’s mouth between your legs, the skin of his cheeks scraping the tender skin of your inner thigh, his fingers digging bruises into your hip. 

Your heart thundered faster and your blood raced as his mouth worked you closer to your climax. How obscene, how terribly hot it was for him to be in between your legs like this, the boy you hated the most eating you up. Your legs trembled underneath the power his tongue held, your hips rocking into each movement he made. 

“Fuck” another moan, you jolted forward out of pure human desire and there was not an inch of you that was ashamed of the sounds coming out of your mouth. Under different circumstances you would’ve hid in embarrassment but you didn't want him to stop. Your mouth gasped open, your eyes shutting tightly until all you could see was sparks and complete darkness. Your head fell back and softly collided with the wall behind you. 

Yoongi’s tongue fluttered against your clit, his licks skilled and all too consuming. He ate away as if your mound was a delicious peach and he, a starving man. You couldn't form coherent words, your mind glazed with pure satisfaction. The kind that you only ever read in books or watched in movies. He was better than anyone you ever had before but you could never disclose that to him, not a chance. 

Your knees buckled and you came undone, your fingers gripping tightly onto the locks of hair. You let out a loud yelp and you were sure your neighbors would come knocking soon, his hand reached out and covered your mouth whilst you spilled moans and yelps into. 

The feeling of him removing his mouth led you to open your eyes, heaving as the high tore through you. 

Your half hooded stare found Yoongi, he stood in front of you now. His tongue licking away your juices from his bottom lip. His own eyes carried the same abundant lust as yours and before you could catch your breath, his mouth was on yours once again. 

You kissed recklessly, your lips and tongues consuming one another feverlish. Your hands exploring each other. Your mouth escaped his and found the trail of his exposed neck, you could feel his pulse underneath your tongue as you licked his skin, yoongi’s head rolled back, giving you access. 

His hand slid onto your outer thigh, gripping the skin there and raising it up to his waist. You felt the friction of his jeans between your legs and your waist buckled forward. 

“You see?” he groaned “you do need me.”

But now there wasn't an ounce of will power left in you willing to contradict, that which was so obvious. Your face shifted back to his and you enveloped his mouth in yours again, your teeth pulling at his bottom lip. 

“You are so annoying,” you moaned, bringing him closer. You tried to show some kind of restraint, to keep some sort of decomorum but you couldn’t. You needed him inside of you as much as he needed you. You reached for his jeans, undoing the button and zipper in a smooth movement. Leading his own waist to buckle into your touch, a small smirk pulling at your lips. 

Your hand dipped inside his boxers and the palm of your hand slid down his length, hic cock warm and painfully hard against your touch. 

Yoongi moaned, pressing his forehead against your cheek. Shuttered breaths lingering against the skin there, his moans were sweet and raspy and it only led you to move your hand slower, teasing him. You were aware of the ache building inside of his belly which was much like your own. You brought his cock out from its clothed restraint, your hand stretching around his pulsing head. Yoongi found your mouth desperately, his moans pouring into it and you swallowed his pleasure. 

You dipped his top in your entrance and lust shocked through your body. Yoongi grunted and lifted his hips to meet yours, your cunt quivering around him. Muscles tightening around his shaft comfortably. His hips began to push and draw out slowly, his grip on your thigh growing harsher, the further he reached inside of you. 

His other hand gripped your waist tightly, keeping you from falling out of his grasp. He pumped his hips faster, the sound of your skin meeting, creating a symphony against the sound of the rain. 

Yoongi’s mouth traveled to your neck then slid down to your chest, his tongue slipping past the fabric of your bra and gliding against your hardened nipple. A high pitch hum escaped you and your arms wrapped around his shoulders, he was so close but the desire to melt into him prevailed. 

You could feel his cock expanding inside of you, your juices slicking against his skin. Your leg gave out from underneath you but Yoongi grabbed onto you before you could move, lifting you of the ground entirely. You clamped around his waist, throwing your head back as your heavy sighs collided against his. 

“I make you feel good, Y/n?” His voice was hoarse and struggled. 

“Y-yes” yours winded and convulsed. 

With every one of his thrusts, every one of his kisses and nibbles he pushed you further into disarray, the feeling overwhelming and you were aware you were coming again, a heaviness settling itself in your gut. You needed more, desperate to have him encased inside of you. 

“Yoongi” your walls tightened again. 

“Fuck Y/n” your name had never sounded so good before, not like it did coming out of his mouth. His cock caressed your inner walls and you began grinding your hips as he pounded into you. harder, faster. 

“Just like that Y/n” he whimpered “you are such a good girl.”

“Yoongi”

Your orgasm arrived in a sudden rush, your juices flowing freely. Your muscles spasming and your walls hugging him tighter. Yoongi thrusted urgently, coming undone inside of you moments later, his teeth biting down onto the exposed skin of your shoulder in an attempt to stifle his groans. 

You both remained there, a mixture of struggling breaths and heaving chests. The realization of what had just happened only arriving when you felt the rain on your skin again, no longer an afterthought. You looked down at Yoongi, whose head rested on your shoulder. 

“Yoongi,” you whispered. 

“Please” he muttered “dont ruin the moment.”

“Put me down,” you said, slapping his shoulder. 

“Do i have to?” he sighed “you feel so warm.” 

You squirmed, feeling his cock still nestled inside of you. 

“Put me down you psychopath” you yelled, he remained still for a few seconds then obliged, softly placing your thighs down and sliding out of you. You moved to lower your skirt quickly, suddenly feeling overly exposed. Yoongi stared at you whilst stuffing himself back in his jeans and the irritation returned. 

“Having regrets already?” he chuckled and you grimaced in response. You didn't regret it, in fact given the opportunity you would do it all again but you avoided his question, moving your underwear back to its place. 

“You ripped my shirt” you tried to mend the torn fabric but it was no use, the material had been stretched and pulled into a mesh of nothingness. 

“You weren't complaining before,” he hummed victoriously. 

“You make me sick, y’know?” you pushed past him, stomping away from where you both had almost eaten each other alive. “Who even does that? You’re an animal.”

“Get out!” you yelled back at him, beginning to put in the code for your front door. 

“Hey Y/n” he called, you sighed and turned to him, a glare already creeping on your eyes. 

“What is it?” 

“Same time next week?"

-

It had been recent, far too recent. 

The ink had not yet entirely lost its scent. Which meant- 

Hours ago, perhaps less. 

Hours ago Shen Wei had been seated somewhere beneath the same palace roofs, a brush in his hand and the empty page spread before him. Writing these words that she had taught him to write. The thought caused her stomach to turn. 

“He cant-” she muttered, her voice trembling into just a whisper. Her grip tightened, turning her knuckles pale, the skin there beginning to thin, she ripped into it frantically. An attempt to erase the words that were now embedded in her brain. 

“Your highness-” her maid stepped forward, panic in her expression. 

She turned her tear brimmed eyes towards her maid, her face mixed with anger and disbelief. 

“Where is he?” she snapped, her stare faltering as tears began to rush down her face. The maid lowered her gaze, unable to bring herself to stare at the princess as she crumbled in front of her. In all of the years that she had tended to her, she had never seen her princess cry like this and being witness to it, felt wrong. 

“Commander Shen did not report for his morning duties.”

Once she lifted her stare, she could see the princess' twisted expression. It was like something had snapped, eyes that could not demonstrate any single emotion but an abundance of conflict. The maid gasped, lowering her stare once more.  immediately she dropped to her knees, her forehead pressed against the floor, giving the deepest vow she could muster. 

“This servant deserves death for upsetting your highness-” 

The princess burst out of her room, her morning robes flowing behind her. Hair flowing freely, ridden of any pins or ribbons. She ran like her life depended on it, the silk of her robes and strands of ink black hair flowing behind her like shadows. She wore no jewelry and her attendants had remained far behind, she escaped from her dignity as she traveled through corridors rapidly. 

“Your highness, please! You are not properly dressed!” the voice of her maid echoed against the wooden walls around them as she tried to catch up with the princess. 

Yet, she could not stop, she would not stop. Whatever consequences she would face for her transgression would have to be a later concern, she had to get him to him no matter what. Her heart fluttered painfully in her chest. 

‘Your highness, by the time you read this, i will already have departed for the northern frontier.’

Tears spilled down her cheeks as she turned corners, her lungs burning as she moved through corridors and out of her chambers. Though her chest caved and her lungs burned she pushed through the physical pain, forcing her body to move with an urgency she had never felt before. 

‘I apologize for leaving without seeking an audience’ 

‘For ten years, it has been my honor to serve your highness’

She flew past the doors of her gong, past startled servants, past eunuchs carrying morning decrees, past ministers arriving for court. Their widened eyes followed her as she breezed past them, her trembling body desperately taking her forward. No one had ever seen the emperor's favorite daughter running, certainly not half-dressed, certainly not with fury blazing in her eyes. 

“Your highness!” her maids desperate voice followed behind her but she didn't turn back, pushing her legs to their limits as she made way towards him. She didn't think she was running fast enough, fear mingling with the utter urgency flowing through her veins. What if she missed him? What if she could no longer see his face?

The palace became a blur and she could only see what was directly in front of her, like a horse racing to war. Prepared to give its life, aware of the danger that was predetermined for it. Her heart hammered in her chest but she could not give up, she could not let him leave. 

Leave her. 

The guards barracks came into view, several soldiers immediately dropping to one knee. 

“Your highness-” 

She shoved past them, her body colliding against the heavy wooden doors. Air ripped from her lungs, sweat clasping onto the skin of her forehead. Loud heaves left her lips as her panicked eyes searched for him, she could feel the harsh beat of her heart in her ear drums, the muffled sound ringing deeply within them. 

He stood there, beside a wooden table, travel gear already prepared. His armor packed, his sword secured. He was ready to leave, ready to abandon her. For a moment neither of them moved, neither dare to breathe. Then his face changed, his cold and dignified composure cracking momentarily, his eyes flashing  with confusion and then recognition. 

“Xinyue” he lowered his gaze. 

Not your highness, not princess. 

Xinyue. 

Suddenly, the atmosphere shifted and it was as if the world had been stripped from all oxygen. Neither of them could speak, to say the things they wanted to say and though princess Xinyue had fought against herself to get to him, now that she stood before him there was nothing she could bring herself to say. She stepped toward him, each step heavier than the last. She raised her hand, the impact of her palm connecting with his cheek leaving a loud echo inside the room. 

The side of Shen Wei’s face reddened instantly, yet he did not react. He did not move an inch, unphased by the assault against him. Princess Xinyue’s eyes were bright with sudden tears, the red hue within them causing his chest to compress. 

“How dare you” she bit. 

“Your highness-” 

“You wish to leave me?” her voice cracked like soft porcelain. 

She had every intention to sound powerful but the news had carved out her chest, leaving her winded and defeated. As she stood in this room, she felt all her power stripped from her. In here, she was not a royal princess favored by the emperor and the court, in this room she had no influence. She was left raw, unhidden. 

She raised her hand again but as it fell to collide with his face, he raised his own. In an instant catching her wrist before she could strike him again. His stare met hers, his eyebrows furrowing with ache that spread through his bones. His grip against her skin not harsh nor forceful and the world stopped.

Neither had touched the other like this before and his grip loosened immediately as though even a brief contact was dangerous but it lingered, the warmth lingered. The awareness lingered. 

“Shen Wei!” she shouted. She wanted to hurt him, to make him feel everything that she felt, whilst she fell apart he remained perfectly stoic, unphased by the scene that played before him but she could see it in his eyes, she knew him more than anyone in this palace. In his stare she found her own dread building painfully. 

“I am the royal princess and I demand that you stay, you must obey my orders” she pulled her eyebrows as a whimper followed her stern tone. tears spreading across her cheeks and pooling beneath her chin and dripping onto the ground. 

“It has been decided” he spoke coldly “by the emperor.”

Princess Xinyue felt her heart plummet, as if someone had punched her straight in the gut. It left her far more breathless than her frantic arrival had and she staggered backwards, her expression containing pain, betrayal. 

“You had this all planned out, didn't you?” she snarled “all this time, all this pretending to care for me-” her words trailed to silence. 

“princess-” his tone was low yet soft, it was as if he were begging for her to stop but couldn't bring himself to speak to the princess in that manner, always keeping his decorum unlike the woman who stood before him. 

Suddenly, the princess began to lower. His eyes watched in horror as she began to kneel to the ground before him, before a guard who possessed nothing and never had. They weren't equals, in this world the princess was everything and he was nothing. In this world the princess was the daughter of the emperor and he the son of nobody. 

Shen Wei reacted instantly, his hand shooting forward. His hands gripped onto her shoulders gently but strong enough to stop her intended movement, before her knees could hit the ground. He would protect her until the last moment he stayed, she was his princess after all. 

“No” the words emerged rough, almost angry. 

“No” she struggled against his hold, whimpers vibrating through her throat. 

“Then stay,” her voice pitched. 

“No” he repeated, attempting to sound determined though he could feel his facade strip from his skin the longer he stood in front of her. His eyes closed briefly, as if enduring the sort of pain that was relentless and repugnant. 

“You cannot kneel to me” Shen Wai allowed a breath to leave him. 

“Then stay” she demanded once more, her voice forceful. Thick silence followed, enveloping the both of them cruelly. 

“You cannot-” he opened his eyes again, scanning her face. He wished he could brush away her tears, he wished he could hold her but it was not his place, it would never be his place to bring comfort to his princess, though he had tried in so many ways. 

When Shen Wei finally spoke, his own voice sounded broken. He could pretend to not feel the ache inside of him but that didn't mean it couldn't pour from his mouth, that didn't mean it wouldn't cause his hands to shake against her shoulders. His own body betrays him, exposing his vulnerability. 

“Do not make this harder than it already is” 

The tears in the princesse’s eyes only began to flow faster, a cascade of fears and regrets mounted to reddened glass eyes and flushed cheeks. In that moment, she was engrossed in the purest forms of heart break, something she had only ever read poems about. The kind of denial that only someone who was losing someone could feel and she felt it, in the most vile ways. 

“Harder?’ she laughed once. A shattering sound. 

“You are abandoning me, you took an oath to protect me and you are leaving my side” she gasped. 

Shen Wei’s jaw tightened because she was right, every cruel thing she could say, she would be right. Slowly, he released her shoulders. The movement felt like tearing flesh from bone. Then he stepped backwards. 

One step, only one. 

Yet, it felt like he had left miles between them. 

Princess Yinyue stared at him and suddenly understood that nothing she did would change the outcome of this. Not begging, pleading. Not even if she asked the emperor himself to reconsider. Chen Wei had already chosen the path in front of him and just as determined as she was to make him stay, he was just as equally determined to leave her. 

She couldn't breathe. 

She would never see him again and for the first time in 10 years, he had chosen something that was not her and she was unsure if she could survive it. 

What is once praised for its beauty eventually ends up being thrown away.  When it is no longer beautiful, when it is no longer valuable it is discarded, trash. 

Cell death, autolysis, microbial breakdown and eventually organic disintegration. 

In Jungkooks opinion all things living decay the same, some faster than others, some skipping a few stages. In this moment for example as he holds his breath, he imagines his body shutting down, his source of oxygen cutting off, his skin beginning to soften. 

Jin’s involuntary visit had left the solemn man more drained than before, perhaps holding onto more questions and anxiousness than before he received that which he had been hungrily seeking. It was no secret that their friendship had changed, that a distance had grown, that he attempted to ignore the fact that now, he did not know the man who sat in front of him an hour prior. 

The truth ached inside of him like a stubborn cut, it stung. An inescapable pain that now remained. 

It was bitter and stubborn. 

Perhaps it would have been better to ignore the entire ordeal after all, perhaps if he hadn't come then Jungkook could've pretended nothing had changed. 

That he hadn't changed. 

That they were still on the same side somehow. 

He could’ve avoided himself the guilt that ransacked his brain now, the possibility or the reality that Jin felt like he needed to protect you from him. Had he been that cruel?

Had you been decaying too?

“Kook” Taehyung spoke, his voice heavy whilst he leaned against the console next to the window of Jungkook’s office. If Jungkook would have lifted his gaze he would have caught the worry in Taehyung’s face which lately had been the only expression he appeared to be able to produce, along with the 6th cigarette that sat in between his fingers. 

He would’ve noticed that much like him, the stress ate away at his friend. The twitch below his right eye which he tried to rid himself of by rubbing at it aggresively. 

“Did he leave?” Jungkook holds his gaze against the empty cup in front of him, the only thing keeping the room from spinning around him, an anchor. 

“Yes but how do we know he wont go and tell her we know where she is now?” Taehyung responds, more like complaining. 

“Because” Jungkook starts, adjusting his slumped posture. Holding his mouth shut for a moment too long.  

“Because?” Taehyung questions, agitated. 

Jungkook doesn't say what he really wants to say, he doesn't want to tell Taehyung that he thinks he owes Jin trust even after all that has happened, after all that he has done. He does not say that there is still loyalty that remains in his chest for his old friend, that he would feel like a load of shit  if he didn't at least expect Jin not to speak to you about this meeting because he knows it's stupid, he knows it's illogical.

“Much like i desperately seek her safety i have no doubt in my mind he does too”.

Taehyung huffs, sliding the cigarette between his lips and taking a drag, neither of them say what they really want to say, how jungkook wants to tell Taehyung to have a bit of faith despite their friend's betrayal, how Taehyung wants to call him an idiot. 

“So what now?” Taehyung throws another question in the air that Jungkook can't bring himself to answer rationally.

“I'll go tell some of the boys and we can head there right now” Taehyung decides, throwing his half burnt cigarette into an ash tray nearby.

“No” Jungkook replies quickly, desperately. 

“No?” Taehyung furrows his eyebrows, his anxious demeanor speaking for him. 

“Im going alone.”

Taehyung goes through 3 stages of emotions at that moment. At first, he laughs - his cackles loud and obnoxious, he dares to bend over and hold his belly. When one is tired, things tend to be more funny. When his cackles die down and he allows himself to look at Jungkook clearly, at his determined expression his lips which had been pulled into a smile then fall quickly, confusion wrapping itself between his eyebrows. 

“Alone?”

Then the annoyance takes over, the frown he forms overtaking both his expression and his posture, which is now stiff and unmoved. He feels his feet dig themselves harshly onto the ground below him. 

“Have you completely lost your fucking mind?” 

Taehyung wishes his voice boomed louder so that perhaps his tone would deter the man who sat solemnly in front of him. 

Jungkook sighs and his eyes leave the glass, the room begins to spin and he grows dizzy, his hands coming to cover his face in contemplation. 

“It wasn't a request Taehyung” Jungkook snaps, wishing his voice didn't carry so much disdain. 

“Jungkook” Taehyung lowers his voice, brushing his hand against his face and holding his breath for a moment. He really wants to scream, he wants to jump over the table and slap some sense into him but he doesn't think that method would get him anywhere. 

“Please start acting like you have some goddamn sense” he pleads. “Have you learned nothing about the last few weeks?”

Jungkook brings his eyes to look up at his best friend, he can see the fear that clings to his stare - perhaps, he wasn't being rational but there was no point in explaining to Taehyung how he didn't see you as a dangerous enemy but rather a deeply broken girl, something he had a hand in creating. 

“What is your plan then Taehyung? Storm into her home with a mob of armed men and yank her by the arm and take her away? Is that your magical fucking plan?”

“Im not letting you go alone” Taehyung declares, inching closer to the table. 

“I have to” Jungkook responds “i have to handle this myself, she is not my enemy Taehyung, she is not someone you need to protect me from.”

Taehyung scoffs, the adrenaline rushing through him leading him to pace around the room in frustration.

“So she wasn't your enemy when she held a gun at you? When she exposed you and your family for the entire country to see? How long are you going to act like you can fix this!” Taehyung's voice now boomed through the restaurant, the museum of memories. 

“Because I can” Jungkook shoots back, his voice matching Taehyung’s, standing from his chair  - fists now pressed against the desk. 

He had to, if he didn't he knew for sure his father would and he knew the exact methods the man would use - the thought of it alone leading his stomach to twist painfully. 

“I want to believe that you are smarter than that Jungkook, you feel guilty? Fine, you were a shitty husband and you did a shit job at protecting her but if you think that for a second that she wont put a bullet in your skull the moment she lays eyes on you then you are clearly out of your fucking mind” Taehyung huffs, his words rambled as if he cant get the words out fast enough. 

“She is not something complicated that you need to decipher, she is an enemy through and through, there are no lines to read in between, she will kill you. ”

Another silent blow in Jungkook's gut, another truth hard to digest.

Jungkook does not snap back, instead his eyes travel to Taehyung’s, his stare cold and stern, it defies the truth that has just spilled through his best friends mouth, his actions careless as he grabs his gun and walks towards the front of the restaurant, reaching for the door handle. He feels Taehyung’s grip on his arm which he yanks with ease and he storms out. 

The evening air clings to his skin as he rushes out of the restaurant, keys clenched into his fist as if they were to be ripped away from him. He has no plan, no back up - no solution and no words he can offer for you to understand but his steps are hurried because as unprepared as he is, he knows he has to get to you. 

No rationale, no doubt. 

Even if you were to hold a gun to his chest, even if you were to kill him - then he’d pay his dues. 

Jungkooks breath comes in short gasps, not from exertion nor exhaustion but mere anticipation. 

His steps are heavy and loud as he makes a beeline to the SUV parked on the other side of the street. The men that surround the street bow their heads in unison, his soldiers awaiting his next command - their black suit’s now dampened from the cold drizzle that falls from the sky. 

Jungkook throws open the door and drops into the driver's seat, his heart ramming into his ribs like a wrecking ball and as he fumbles to start the ignition he looks back at the restaurant, Taehyung stands by the door - a disapproving glare in his eyes along with what Jungkook knows is fear, fear that something might happen to him. 

His eyes flicker away and he sets them now on the road before him - the engine roars to life, tires squealing as he pushes his foot down on the accelerator and hes gone, the street becoming a blur as he speeds ahead. 

Your face comes to him, a cruel memory. Your widened drunkened eyes, the laughter that bubbled from your chest at even the slightest words that he mustered to let out as if he was funniest man on earth, your swaying body in the middle of your garden and your flushed cheeks, he can still recall how red they were - residue of your activities that night. 

And he's back, back to the first time he ever laid eyes on you. 

The house is grand, in the way only someone with old money can own - effortless, sprawling, gilded without being garish. I try to compare it to my own but there's something lacking, something that doesn't quite match, a certain warmth that mine lacks, this home is shared, not just lived in. 

Characteristics I once yearned for but no longer crave, no longer need because im no longer a child. 

The air smells faintly of cigar and imported cologne, heavy with the subtle power struggle between the men that sit before me and my father. 

I find myself inside the  home’s drawing room, I sit stiffly beside my father. The conversation being held formal, clipped - serious.  It's always the same kind of conversations. land, partnerships, legacy. things that I have no concern over because I, myself have never had a legacy, and what I do get is usually so easily thrown in my  face. Like a sword that dips into me softly at first and then gets ripped out mindlessly. 

I bear no worry to keep anything for I own nothing.

 I catch a wift of the alcohol glass in my hand, a grimace subtly flashing through my expression at the brown liquid that has been poured there. The smell is sharp and pungent yet my father regards this as ‘the good stuff’. 

I really don’t get it, why people drink, why they would choose to numb themselves into stupidity. 

Yet my father pours it into my cup with pride and whispers “you are a man now”, like that means something to me. The bitter liquor dances on my tongue before I allow it to drain down my throat, it burns and still i dont feel like a man. 

I nod in struggled gratitude as if I enjoy it, as if i can pick on the good this liquid holds and for some reason that makes my father smile. 

“So when will we partner again?” my father asks, a low chuckle following suit. his question was directed towards the man who sits across from us, whose house we are currently visiting. 

I’ve never seen this man before but my father insists on calling him ‘an old friend’, someone who has been in the ‘game’ as long as him, someone my father had started his crime syndicate with, though nothing about this meeting feels familiar. just shades of politeness and power, like 2 lions circling the same prey. The man has sharp eyes and a lingering smirk that has not left his face since my father and I arrived, I can only  conclude it's because he’s eager to exude trust but it only manages to make my skin crawl. 

The man calls out my name, disregarding the question that my father has made and which hangs in the air almost menacingly ,  my eyes dart in his direction, something in his tone causing me to grow uneasy. 

“Do you plan to take over the family business someday?”

It's a question I've heard more than once but never seem to have the answer for. if i say yes it makes me feel like an imposter, it's not my inheritance. this is not my family, yet i cant bring myself to say no, not when its all the man who sits besides me can seem to prepare me for. 

From beside me I hear my father chuckle, low and arrogant, polished with just enough control to feel unsettling deliberate. 

"Of course he will,” he interjects, letting his hand fall harshly upon my shoulder, my body leaning down into the weight of his touch. 

The man, whose name I don't remember now, grins from across the table. His smile soft, his eyes crinkling at the edges and his voice carrying the mellow tone of someone who’s used to being listened to. 

“Good” he declares as if we were waiting for his approval. 

For the first time I allowed my eyes to remain on him. His clothes are simple yet expensive, different from the suit my father and I wear. It projects humility without sacrificing his status. He leans forward slightly, as if eager to hear what we have to say. 

It's when I notice he’s been tense since our arrival, his movements appearing rehearsed, curated as though he wants to make us feel comfortable. He speaks of loyalty, opportunity, growth with ease but behind his tendered tone, behind the gentleness in his words he hides the unshakable sense of manipulation. 

His kindness is like the suit my father wears - tailored, strategic, and easily shed when he gets what he wants. 

“You know I've gone legitimate now” his words are directed towards my father now, answering the question he had so easily ignored before. A silent confirmation that he would answer it when he wanted to, the smirk spreading further across his face. 

“After all this time? After all, everything you do have is only because of the hard work of your father, grandfather and his father before him” my father states bitterly “if anything this would be a slap on the face to them”.

I direct my stare back to the man and for a moment his expression shifts to one of distaste, the same one I had made when the cognac in my glass had met my lips.

“Times have changed Jeon” he remarks, referring to my father by his last name. “my legacy should be backed by honor and respect not blood”.

“And what if you fail?” My father shoots back and I furrow my eyes in confusion at my fathers eagerness to point out the man's potential failure. It's like he is drooling at the mere thought that this man will someday fall apart. 

‘Old friends’ the words ring in my ear, what kind of friendship is that?

The air turns tense and I finally consider taking a drink from the glass willingly.

“Dont worry” he shrugs “there is always a back up plan.”

His eyes flinch over to the family portrait that hangs on his wall, in the portrait a younger version of the man is presented along with a young woman who stands besides him, in her arms a small little girl barely 2 years old, her dress is pink. 

Both men laugh in unison, yet I don't understand the joke. 

My eyes drift back to the picture, studying the small child there.  She might be the same age as me given the youth in the man's face when the picture was taken, much like my father’s when he picked me up from that bloodied floor in that decaying home. 

She wasn’t present during my arrival, just the man and his wife.

The obnoxious heavy cackles of the men fill the room and yet the apprehensive atmosphere perdures. I can't help but feel like there's something sinister behind the joke the man has just made regarding his family. What was collateral? And why did he stare at his family portrait while saying it?

I wait until the laughter subsides, allowing for the glee to ease through the tension then lean forward slightly, politely like my father always taught me or rather patronized me. 

“Excuse me” I interrupted, “I just need to use the bathroom.”

I don't wait for their approval, I stand up carefully as if I were standing near landmines, careful not to rush, giving them the illusion of calmness though there's not a cell in my body that wants to remain a minute further in this room .

I can feel my fathers cold, stern gaze as I make my way towards the door . It's a warning,  a silent "don't ever do that again” but he doesn’t move a muscle to protest and I thank the gods silently for it. Under different circumstances, he would’ve interrupted my escape and negated me the freedom I so dearly desired, pressing his heavy hand on my shoulder and shoving me back to my seat. A stern ‘you can wait’ falling from his mouth. 

The moment I slip out of the room I feel the strain around me lift, a cold breeze after suffocating heat. A small sigh leaves me, relief. 

My eyes scan every corner of the home as if it were a museum for my enjoyment, my footsteps echoing as I wonder past arched doorways, past oil paintings and silent servants who wait patiently to be called upon. 

As I make my way to the first floor the guards who stand at the corners in stiffened composure don't even flinch, I was not a threat to them but I was also just a stranger roaming their bosses home at late hours of the night. Perhaps, my father had been right, perhaps we were allies to a certain extent. 

I roamed and moved around the foreign halls until I came face to face with the back of the home. It looked like a private sanctuary if anything. Its greatness and luxury is the kind that exudes elegance and of course, money. 

There was no denying this man had money and an abundant amount. 

I recalled my fathers statement of how the man would have to thank his father and his fathers father. This was generational wealth unlike my fathers and perhaps that was the sour feeling that accompanied him. The ache of knowing that next to this man my father was but an ant, insignificant. 

The sweeping stone terrace frames around a rectangular pool that glistens under the moon light. Decorated with manicured bushes and lounge chairs that have been placed with exact precision. Beyond the pool, the ground drops to a sculptured garden, neatly clipped hedges and winding stone paths. 

Everything is curated, not a leaf out of place. It's a courtyard, subtly screaming its worth and the only thing that comes to mind is how exhausting it must be for it to hold its composure. Its elegance is exhausting. I can imagine the employees bustling through each morning, ensuring everything appeared tidy and clean. 

How much has this man invested in bushes?

My attention is drawn to the phone buzzing in my pocket, the soft hum of incoming text messages alerting me to my undeliberate gawking. I slip the phone out of my pocket and stare at the incoming thread of messages. 

Tae: paris on another level

Jin: You're in Paris now?

Tae: yeah dads meetings were boring 

Jin: You were just in cabo?

It doesn't take long before a huff escapes me accompanied by the roll of my eyes. I was used to Taehyung's antics and Jin’s constant surprise of his carelessness or rather lack of parental control. From the 3 of us, he was who most enjoyed his life. Carrying himself with an ease neither Jin and I could afford to. 

I stand a moment longer, attempting to regain some sense of will to return back to that god awful suffocating room. If I took too long then my father would only grow more irritated towards me. perhaps triggering another yelling match, where he would throw the past 10 years in my face and I would reserve my words in hopes that it would deter him from berating me.sometimes i wish he had left me on that bloodied floor. 

And sometimes I'm grateful he didn't. 

From the deepest part of my mind I was brought back by a shuffle from some of the bushes, the yard had been kept so well that it was hard to miss. The small intrusion caused my eyes to linger on it, for a moment convincing myself it could be a squirrel or a raccoon looking for its next meal but this wasn’t the kind of place where these animals would go unchecked. 

Was someone there and if so, was my life in danger?

My body stiffened, turning my stare back to the opened doors behind me. I should go warn the men that line the corridors but before I can move an inch, my eyes glimpse back to the bushes and from within them I can make out a figure. 

It's not a masked man holding an assault rifle, ready to unload its clip into me but rather a female, her frame small and clumsy. 

She stumbled out of the perfect greenery, barefoot in the grass, soft mumbles accompanied by sweet giggles and quivered hiccups that forced her body forward. 

Her dress clung to her like a shadow, half elegance, half recklessness. her heels dangled from her right hand as she stumbled towards me. I stood motionless, breathless.She was an abnormality in the neatly kept home. 

Before I could even blink, the girl stumbled harshly, her legs giving out from beneath her, whilst her body flung forward and she landed on her face. a loud and pained groan muffled by the grass erupting from within her. I hesitate, my heart racing as I stare at her limp body and before I can register what I'm doing, my legs take me towards her with hurried steps. 

“Are you okay?” I ask. 

“Shhhhh” she responds. 

My eyebrows knit in confusion whilst I take her in. Did she shush me? I wasn't even being loud. If anything, she's the one being disruptive. 

“Are you drunk?” I want to ask her if she’s crazy but I don't. 

The mixture of her delicate flower perfume and alcohol grasp me from where I stand above her, answering the question I had thrown out before she could even open her mouth. She lifts her head a few inches but her eyes remain shut. 

“Where am I?" she slurs. 

“Uhm” i hum, i cant bring myself to recall the owner's name, the one he had given me whilst he shook my hand and i had forgotten with indifference. 

A loud sigh flows through her and she pushes herself from the floor, stumbling on her way up. I hold my arm out which she avoids completely and I refrain from scoffing. Why do I intend to help her? If anything, I should call the guards on this stranger. 

Sound the alarm, bring out the guards and the guard dogs, call upon helicopters who will flash their bright lights on her. Leading the house to go up in chaos but i dont do either. I'm not even sure the man has a helicopter but he seems like the kind of man who does. 

“Who are you?” This time her eyes are open though they are low, fluttering under the influence of the alcohol that consumes her mind. Her judgemental tone irks me, she dares to look at me like that as if she weren’t an intruder and i a guest?

But I'm quickly drawn away from that emotion when my eyes meet with hers. 

Her pupils stood dilated, her eyes large and dark, glassed with intoxication. They reflected the lights around us and gifted them back to me. Stray hairs framed her face, clinging onto her temples and exposed neck where the chilled air of the night had mixed with the droplets of water from the grass she had landed on. Her lashes were long and wisped, her eyebrows gently arched as if bringing them closer could help her concentrate on my own features. 

Her face is delicate and dew, her skin glowing with the faint warmth of her choice of alcohol this night, a rosy flush touching her cheeks and enveloping her nose. Her lips, full and tinted by a peached gloss, curving into a smile that exuded tenderness and inexperience. 

Something in my chest shifted, almost unpredictably but it was there and I could sense it though I could not describe it. She brought forth a certain urge inside of me to protect, to aid. Her presence was a blend of fragility and wildness all at the same time and even if I tried to break away from her stare I couldn't bring myself to blink away. 

I felt foolish, embarrassed. She brought forth a feeling no other person had been able to bring out of me, not even my father with his harsh words and it made me want to shrink in place. 

“Are you a new body guard?” she asked in annoyance, as if somehow my very existence was an inconvenience to her. 

“Ugh, I literally jumped over 2 fences to avoid you.”

My eyes trailed to where her dress ended just above her knees, the fresh bruises forming there serving as evidence that she did in fact jump through fences to avoid detection from anyone in this home. 

“In new valentino!” she shrieked once again, holding up the shiny black pair of heels in her hand. 

She was no stranger to this home, perhaps I was the intruder. It all clicked like a puzzle that had been forming in my mind. puzzle pieces i had lost sight of when i laid my eyes on her. She was the little girl in the family portrait. The man’s daughter, the collateral. 

Spoiled and filthy fucking rich. 

“Im not-” I began, readying to protest her claim but she continued to ramble, speaking over my hushed words. 

“Please don't tell my dad” she pleaded and an instant I could feel her sobering over the possibility of being caught. She lunged forward, her hands coming to cling onto my shoulders and the desperation in her eyes caused my own to widen in panic. 

“Please” her voice trembled. 

She probably always got what she wanted. I could tell by her freshly manicured hands that gripped my suit jacket with so much force I could swear the thread was becoming undone under it and her french perfume, the one that came and went like waves the closer she stood in front of me. 

Much like this courtyard, I could tell she was usually well maintained, hair done with precision, outfits selected by top designers and her friends, a bunch of snobs and stuck up oxygen thiefs. 

I hated people like her, those who never had to work for anything because they got everything they wanted, living life as if it held no restraints for them. Taehyung was like her in many ways but he was different, he was humble and caring. Sure, he indulged in the finer things because they were within his reach but he didnt brag, he didnt whine like her.  

Perhaps, i was a hyprocite. 

I lifted my hands and grasped onto hers, the swift motion causing her to gasp.  I pulled her hands off from me and brought her touch away from my shoulder. In my grasp her hands felt small, delicate, and cold. 

“I am not your body guard” my tone was stern, gripped with annoyance and distaste. 

We came from different worlds, this girl and I. she was loved and tended to, she was brought into this life carefully whilst i had been ripped away from mine and forced to fit into mine. 

Her eyes blinked quickly, almost in amazement but surely with shock. She was probably never told no, never denied her desires,  her life filled with ‘yes ma’am’ and willingness. 

I let go of her hands and turned on my heel, making my way back to the mansion before me. For a moment the only sound was of my shoes destroying the perfectly trimmed grass under it, that is until I heard her hurried and short strides following behind me. 

“Hey!” She called out, her voice raised enough to probably catch the attention of those inside. 

“HEY” She repeated, though I did not turn. 

“I would be a bit quieter if I were you” I responded, an unseen smirk forming on my lips. Why was I being such an asshole? It's not like I really did care if she was caught or not, i didnt know her but for some reason it brought me some satisfaction bringing her even a miniscule amount of inconvenience. 

“Wouldn’t want the princess to get caught” my words were sharp and filled with the same vile tone that my father had used to question the man’s success.  

“Who the fuck are you then?” She shouted, the curse that fell from her lips surprising me momentarily. What was her deal? Was she a snobby girl who pretended to be relatable to those beneath her? 

I could feel her getting closer, only confirmed when she grabbed onto my arm and yanked me back harshly. The motion irritated me, my jaw locking as i felt my body shift under her touch. 

I turned my attention to her now, my body coming to a full stop, I glared down at her. my expression gripped with annoyance and hatred. Did I really hate her that much? Not really, again i didnt really know her but i didnt like to be manhandled and not by a spoiled little girl at that. 

“I’ll scream” she threatened “I’ll scream and my men would be here in seconds and trust me jack ass, you’ll be in a jail cell faster than you can blink”.

In the back of my mind I imagined jail was the least of my concerns, these men who lined the halls of this grand home were not the kind to call on the police to aid them in handling an intruder. I could see it in their eyes as I walked past them. If this girl opened her mouth to scream, to voice any kind of complaint my life would be over. 

I raised my eyebrows, amusement bubbling inside of my chest , a sly smile the only evidence of it.

“Do it” I dared, “I have nothing to lose but you?” 

A chuckle escaped me with ease. 

“You jumped 2 fences to avoid being found out.” 

I watched as her stare faltered, the grip she kept on my shirt loosening for a moment. 

“I’ll be in jail but you’ll probably be locked up in this mansion for life.” 

Her mouth opened as if she wanted to say something but as the seconds passed, the words never came. 

I reach for my suit jacket and snatch it out of her grip once again, turning away from her pleading eyes. as i turn i catch the subtle glint of a light, which beams off of the surface besides us, its source coming from within the home - a flashlight.

Fuck.

“Shit!” the girl whispers and then my body is brought down with force and I land on my back harshly, all air stripped from my lungs on impact. I'm not sure if it's the way my body collapses onto the ground that leaves me shocked or the fact that she had been strong enough to cause me to. 

“Fuckkkk” I groaned but before I could inhale again, her body was on top of mine, her delicate chilled hand tightly clasped over my mouth. 

“Dont you fucking dare move” she whispers but i cant focus. Not while her chest presses against mine, our breaths synchronized,her scent now on my clothes. Her stare piercing as the bodyguard who had managed to get us in this position stepped into the ample yard. The light bouncing from one side to the other. 

She buries her face into my neck, the warmth of her breath bringing chills down my spine and my eyes subconsciously flutter shut at the sensation. My heartbeat untamed and brisk, my cheeks growing warm against hers and my arms come up to envelope her against me, as if out of habit. 

Again i am a fool, again i am embarrassed of the comfort she seems to so easily bring me, one i cant bring to negate myself. She is like an open door i dont think twice to enter. 

We were both in this together now, wherever she hid I would hide too. 

Time moved slower here on this patch of finely cut grass, though I'm sure the bodyguard had left long ago. We laid there motionless, only the sound of her heart pounding on my chest and my slow unsteady breaths evidence of life. 

She raised her head almost as if our thoughts were in sync and then she looked down on me, her eyes stealing me away. The fierceness and determination in her stare throwing me off my thoughts. 

“I don't know who you are nor do I know what your intentions are but you are the only one who can help me get to my room” she huffed, her chest rising and falling with the adrenaline running through her “so ill trust you.” 

Ill trust you

The words melted into my brain like honey, they caused my heart to jump from my chest, absurd i know. 

“Can I trust you?” she breathed. 

I nodded slowly like a child, losing sight of my will and of my resolve. She slowly retracted her hand from my mouth, giving me the gift of air once again. 

She clears her throat, her eyes slowly trailing down to look at our intertwined bodies and just as fast as we had collapsed on the ground, we were back on our feet. Awkwardly adjusting our clothes and dusting off the dampened dirty on the fabric. 

I couldn't bring myself to look away from her, though her very presence was the embodiment of all things I despised, I couldn't let her out of my sight. my eyes tracing her every movement, a toxic trance. 

“So how do we get you there?” I asked, my tone reluctant though I was far from it. 

“My room is on the third floor” she informed me as if it was nothing. “there's 2 ways to get there, either we use the main corridors and stares or” she halted her words and her eyes narrowed. 

“Or?” I asked. 

“Or we go in the same way i left” she pressed her lips nervously and i stood expectantly though i had no doubt that by her expression, I wouldn’t  particularly enjoy her master plan. 

She takes my hand in hers swiftly and she pulls me forward, my feet stumbling as I keep up with her hurried steps. Her hair bounced and flowed as we ran further away from the yard. Though the house appeared to be grand, she moved around with ease. she knew the home like the back of her hand. 

We came to a stop at the side of the home, both breathless. I looked up, my eyes meeting with the various windows there. My eyes landed on the rope like bundle of sheets spilling out of one of them and I needed no further explanation, a chuckle bubbling through my chest. 

“Are you sure?” I murmured, careful as to not call the attention of yet another guard. 

She smiled definitely. 

“Yes” she nodded “just help me up.”

“Dont you have like a service entrance or something?” I asked, shit i had one and i was sure in this big ass house that she had one too. I then realized that the question itself sounded entitled. 

She shook her head and sighed “too risky.”

The house seemed to hold its breath with us. She stood in front of me, turning so that her back was now facing me. I brought my hands up but stopped for a moment, as if asking for silent permission. She turned her head slightly as if checking on me and I nodded my head before encompassing her waist with my hands. The action was insignificant but being all I could bring myself to focus on. 

I raised her up until she could securely grasp the makeshift rope. I kept my body grounded to the floor, the endless days of working out and lifting weights in the gym serving as support to keep her body steady. 

She pulled herself with ease, using the home to plant her feet and climb up. I could hear her soft giggles pour from her frame and for a moment I had forgotten that she was utterly drunk. 

She hauled herself through the opening of her window, a sigh of relief escaping her when the sill met her hips, then spilled into the room with a gasp.

Seconds later, her head popped her head from the window, hair spilling over one eye, cheeks backlit and flushed. “Come” she said, not demanding or arrogantly, but offering. mischief entangled with her words. 

“Come in after me” she requested. 

I hesitated; my job here was done, I had kept my word, and I could easily walk back into the home. I was an invited guest after all. I didn't have to hide or sneak around but my eyes looked back to the place we had just come from as if i was a thief, someone who much like her would find myself in a problem if i was caught. 

the way she called for me as if we were no longer strangers but old friends who had met once again after a long time, it made me doubt my own conscience. 

I tried to rationalize, to be logical but I wanted nothing more than to be in her company again, as stupid as that sounded. I smiled up at her. A crooked, uncertain smile and took the blanket in my hands. I struggled at first, my movements struggled unlike hers. She stretched out her hand as if she somehow could muster the strength to pull me inside, but I took it, knowing she could let me fall. 

When I swung through the window, the room received me warmly, my landing clumsy, lacking confidence. She laughed, the sound disarming and familiar. The scent of her perfume and vanilla lingering in the air. I turned to her, a soft chuckle escaping me. the rush of what I had just done caused me to grow dizzy. 

“Hey” 

It was the only thing I could bring myself to say whilst I tried to regain my composure and my breath. In that instant the only thing that came to mind was how free I felt. My entire life had been spent choosing my words and my actions carefully so as to not be ungrateful, as to not disturb the idea of a home I was granted but now, it felt as though I could eat the world in one bite.

I felt like Taehyung must feel, free and able.  

Nothing mattered, not my father nor the business, it didn't matter if I was brave or ruthless, if I could tell the difference between an AR-15 or a Sig mcx. 

Here I was just a foolish and ignorant teenager. 

I noted the girl sway, her eyes fluttering whilst her hand reached forward towards her desk behind her. I recalled why we were here in the first place. She had sneaked out, probably meeting with friends and sneaking into a club or bar she was too young to enter but she had money and connections and that was something that came easily to her, access. I know because I did, I know because I could. She had been drinking heavily. Her hand slipped clumsily and I could tell she was preparing to take yet another stumble, I leaned forward quickly and placed my hand on her back, the other on her arm. 

I had now grown accustomed to this stranger's touch and I was sure she could say the same. 

“Sorry” she hiccuped. 

We were once again pressed closely against each other but my heart beat more steady now as I swayed along with her slowly.

“Its okay” i nodded, my hand rose like to it was a habit to and slowly removed some hair strands that hung over her face, once my eyes met with her shut ones i could feel my heart begin to drum anxiously once again, the embarrassment of her noticing leading my cheeks to grow warm. 

“Can you take me to my bed?” 

I nodded my head as if she could see me but her eyes remained shut in drunken bliss. I still didn't understand why someone would drink this much or even be able to digest alcohol, god knows i couldn’t even stand the taste it left my mouth but i no longer felt the desire to judge her, i think i had done enough of that for the night. 

My head turned as I tried to find balance in our shuffled steps, I carefully moved us towards her bed that was adorned by short dresses still in hangers and pillows. 

“Y’know” you are the first guy that has come to my room” she giggled whilst i sat her on the edge. 

“Well I can understand with all the security around here” I joked nervously. 

“I'm glad it's you” she huffed, my hands reaching for her comforter.

I scoffed as I looked down at her crooked smile. 

“I'm just a stranger,” I clarified and she didn't answer, allowing the truth to linger in the air between us. 

I laid her down slowly and tucked her inside her bed, watching as the large blanket took her in warmly. She extended her hand out to me, a sheepish grin now appearing in front of me, her eyes wide open now. 

“I’m Y/n” she announced with excitement. 

Y/n 

The drunken spoiled girl now had a name, a soft smile appeared on my face and I sighed, looking up at the clock by her nightstand. It was late, later than what my father had planned to stay.

“Well, im Jungkook” I whispered but once my eyes found her again, soft snores poured from her parted lips, her cheek pressed against the pillow under her head. 

I stepped away slowly, my eyes remaining on her for a moment longer before turning away. The wall in front of me was lined with torn pieces of magazines, idols and famous actors. scrapped pictures of dresses from runway shows and photographs of her and her friends in which she smiled brightly and carelessly. 

She was different from me, she held meaningful space in the lives of others. she had no concern for all the dark things that occurred in this world, never bearing witness to the world that I so eagerly had been introduced to, she hadn’t seen people be tortured or offed for betraying my father. Never had to gravel for safety and air in her lungs. 

She didn't hunger for shelter or love like me and yet, I could feel a loneliness much like mine but I was just trying to find ways in which she and I were the same. Familiarities that could somehow explain the sudden attraction i felt towards her. Realistically we were magnets whose magnetization directions were misaligned, unable to connect. 

I reached for one of the pictures, she stood alone and held a bouquet of flowers in her arms, roses and tulips tied together in a harmonious bouquet. She wore a ballerina costume and offered the camera a tight lipped smile, a bun sleekly tied just a bit above her head. Her features were clearer in it and I drew a map of it in my mind which I later on would come back to recollect when I most needed to remember her. I stared at it for a moment, taking the simplicity and the beauty. I folded it and slid into my pocket. 

Amongst the carelessness that gripped me, the feeling of uncertainty settled and the joke that had been made earlier now sat menancingly in my head. 

‘I have collateral’

It rang through my ears on a constant loop, as if my body was forcing me to hear something that had been unsaid. As I traced my eyes back to Y/n, I spotted the same picture that hung above the man's office sitting on her nightstand. 

The father, the mother, and the collateral. 

It was an assumption of course, I couldn't really know what he meant by it or if he really meant it, he did laugh after all. But I, unlike her, had seen all the shadows in this world, it had allowed me to see how evil people could really be, how merciful and selfish someone could become under certain circumstances. Unfortunately the assumption I was making was not too far fetched from what I had in my short life been able to witness. 

A memory plopped itself in my head smoothly, wrapping itself in my consciousness as if it had just happened though if I recall correctly a few months had passed since then. My father and I sat in his office, he went over his long list of tasks. ‘Going over the numbers’ he would say and sometimes when he spoke like that it seemed as though he ran a legitimate business. 

The man who had burst into the office then had hollow eyes, his emaciated figure bouncing against the dark oak door which he pushed close forcibly. He breathed heavily as if he had been running for miles, sweat dripping from his forehead. I had perked up quickly in alarm, my widened eyes looking from my father back to the man. 

My father had not reacted, remaining calm and collected. His glasses still hanging from the bridge of his nose. 

“Yes?’ he asked in a rather annoyed tone as if the presence of the man pestered him. He didn't even bother looking up from the pile of documents in front of him and it was then I realized that my father was familiar with the man. 

“Mr. Jeon” the man spoke faintly, unable to catch his breath even then. 

“Ive told you not to come to my office” my father raised his stare, cold and resentful. 

“I-i understand” the man nodded “b-but you wouldn’t answer my calls and i-i needed to speak with you.” 

“Go on” my father huffed, laying down the paper in his hand. 

“I am able to repay you” the man almost begged. 

“And how will you be doing that Tokamoto?” my father smirked “you owe my club more than you can afford and i know that because you’ve recently lost your job” he hummed knowingly “due to your habits.” 

The man wiped his forehead, his skin grey and glossed with addiction. He managed a deep breath and I noticed his whole body tremble under my fathers glare. 

“My daughter” was a whisper at first, his words breaking at the bare mention. 

My daughter. 

Perhaps I was too young to know what that meant at the time but there was a side of me that might have never wanted to know. I blinked slowly and allowed a heavy sigh  to leave me and I was back to Y/n’s room.

The wheels screeched loudly as the SUV came to a halt, Jungkook’s body jerking forward. From the driver's seat he could see the property standing before him. 

The home was built of dark metal and natural stone, with clean rectangular structure. Floor - to - ceiling windows wrapped around it, giving it a modern appearance. Jungkook stepped out carefully, eyes scanning every corner, waiting for any abrupt movement but everything seemed to hush in his presence. 

The home, the air around him. 

As he neared the entrance path, his hand moved towards the gun placed inside his waistband. He had no plans to use it, not on Y/n nonetheless but he couldn’t shake the Erie feeling that rolled through his spine and the complete stillness that encompassed the home.

There were no men standing guard from outside and though it made it easier for him to access the property now, it could only mean something terrible must have happened or was he just looking too deeply into it, perhaps you must have decided against having them there. 

When he neared the door, he felt his stomach drop to his feet. The sudden burst caused his eyes to widen. 

The door remained agape, the hinges scratched and dented as if opened by force, he reached out his hand pushing it all the way open, the squeak of the heavy wooden door causing echoes inside. 

The sudden urge to run inside took over him but he knew better than that.

Was it a trap? Did Jin warn Y/n? 

His steps were careful, methodical. He drew out his gun and held it close to chest, his eyes moving from side to side as he moved further into the house, finger sitting absently on the trigger. 

Everything appeared in place and yet, like nothing belonged. If Y/n had left then why had the door been forced? And if nothing was wrong then why were his nostrils now overwhelmed with the metallic and overpowering odor of fresh blood. 

“Fuck” his voice trembled desperately.

Jungkook’s hands began to shake,his chest began to cave the closer he got that scent.

Death.

From beneath his feet the sound of broken shards of glass popped under the pressure of his steps but he didn’t dare look down. Fearful he would find your body laying in a puddle of blood, your empty eyes staring back at him. He had seen dead people before, he had killed people before but he couldn't stomach the thought of seeing you like that, he began to feel insanity creep inside his brain. 

He stopped moving, pressing his body against the wall of the corridor he found himself in - closing his eyes tightly.

Fear consumed him entirely in a way he had never felt before, not when he held a gun in his hands for the first time, not when he stood in front of his father awaiting another beating, not when he waited to hear if his deal with your father had been accepted. 

No, nothing like this. 

What if you were dead? It was all his fault, he wanted to scream, to run, to collapse…

To collapse.

Where were you? How much time had passed from when these events occurred?

With a deep breath, he continued his sweep of the home until he found himself in the living room and only then , did he come face to face with the darkest of his thoughts. 

It was a war zone, the long windows that once wrapped the space in sunlight, now gapping wounds in the walls, jagged teeth of glass still clinging to the frames. Its shards spread across the polished floor and onto the furniture there. 

The wind blew into the room bitterly, causing the remains of the overturned furniture to squeak against its chill. 

The coffee table split in two and the sofa thrown backwards, its white stuffing spilling out. bullet holes decorating the walls in a sinister array, their edges dark and splintered. 

On the floor, streaks of dark crimson blood spread on various areas and Jungkook couldn’t bring himself to draw a breath in, his mouth held ajar at the aftermath of what could only be described as slaughter. 

“Y/n” he yelled, his voice rasped. 

“Y/n” he repeated, louder this time. 

“Fuck.” 

His voice roared through the home, his eyes growing blurred with the tears that swelled there. He didn't want to cry, not right now. In this moment he had to pull himself together and look through the other rooms in hopes you had been swift enough to hide somewhere, somewhere no one could hurt you. 

In the home you once shared together there had been secret rooms and passages for this exact reason, there were escape routes and even tunnels leading into other properties nearby. He had always been prepared for the worst, he had always been prepared to protect you but he doubted you were able to measure the seriousness in all of this. 

You were unable to foresee how indifferent his father was to your life. 

The sound of the front door being pushed rang through the home once again and he lifted his gun quickly, eyes sharp as he stood from his sitting position. His chest filled with rage as he moved towards the front of the home once again. 

Had the attackers returned for something? Or the cleaners, the ones his father would usually hire to get rid of evidence and dead bodies at crime scenes. He was not proud to say that he too hired them when needed. Acknowledging that felt bitter and for a moment he recognized how similar they both were. 

His finger pressed on the trigger, allowing a bullet to ring out and hit the wall next to the door. A warning to whomever dared go through that threshold. Logically, it was stupid. If those men had returned then he could be easily outnumbered, it was only him and his now 5 bullets and he knew his father would send more than 10 men when he considered something important. 

He knew killing you was important to his father. 

“Jungkook!” he recognized the voice immediately, his stare faltering for a moment. 

“Its fucking me you fucking bastard” Taehyung popped his head from the wall he was leaning against. Jungkook lowered his gun and a sigh left him with ease. Taehyung moved from where he had taken cover and walked towards Jungkook. 

“You are drunk and beligerent” Taehyung lectured “acting on your own, you are a fucking dumbass!” 

Taehyung wanted to go further  but his words were cut off when he looked behind Jungkook. His eyes trailed the blood and glass on the floor, taking in every bullet hole on the wall. His heart plummeted into this stomach, a vile liquid rising up his throat. 

“Kook” Taehyung searched Jungkook's eyes “is she?” but he couldn't even bring himself to ask, as if the question itself were a transgression. He sighed, putting his hand on Jungkook's shoulder. A gesture of support, more to himself than to his friend. 

“No bodies,” Jungkook responded coldly. 

“Just shattered glass and blood marks.” 

“Okay” Taehyung nodded, a small chuckle falling from his mouth “okay, that's good, no bodies mean she probably got away” Taehyung felt a bit of relief though Jungkook could not share it. 

“Or she didnt” Jungkook snapped “she could be somewhere else being tortured.” 

Taehyung didn't reply because he couldn't bring himself to say that was impossible. Nothing was out of the realm of possibility in these kinds of situations, when his father was involved in something. 

There was a soft buzz that carried through the hall, both men snapped their necks looking for the direction of the almost faint sound. Their hearts turning into themselves in unison. They both lifted their guns in almost perfect synchronicity. 

“Ill take the stairs up the second floor” Jungkook decided, his eyes scanning the home once more. 

Taehyung threw his head back and groaned, lowering his weapon once more. 

“Jungkook, it's your phone,” he clarified. 

Only then Jungkook felt the vibrating sensation against his leg. He shoved his hand into his front pocket and looked at the number, unable to recognize the digits but he answered anyway, turning to walk towards the front door. 

“Hello?” he yelled. 

“Were are you?” 

It was his father, his body jolted at the familiar sound of his voice. 

“Where the fuck is she?” 

His father produced a cold and baleful chuckle. 

“Oh your wife?” His tone was mocking, bringing anger to Jungkook’s chest. 

“I found her.”

-

honestly I don't even know what to say, please bear with me if there are any typos. it was a bit difficult for me to get back to my groove.

© 𝐂𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞, 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

If you were, to tell the truth to anyone including yourself, you’d open your mouth and confess the uncertainty that currently grips you. It remains nuzzled inside your belly, making itself part of your organism until it reaches your bloodstream, latching onto your heart, spreading through each beat it dares take. Growing heavier and ungovernable the closer you get to saying your vows. 

It debilitates you in the most unpleasant form, bringing forth memories of a man who you once knew, who you once loved. It's hard for you not to feel like an imposter, as if you are taking the place of someone else, someone more deserving or perhaps it’s because you can't stop daydreaming of another version of this day, a recurring dream of your wedding where someone else stands there waiting for you instead of Joseon. 

The memory of his face inhabits your mind menacingly. His touch, his voice, and his scent leave a virulent residue inside of you. 

Yet, you avoid the whispers that roam your mind. Opting to ignore the truth that lingers there, forcing yourself to believe that you’ve made the right decision. Undermining the effect it has on you because everyone must feel like this on their wedding day, right?

It's just cold feet, or maybe it's because you haven’t had a good meal. Your appetite is affected by the anticipation of your big day - the way your corset presses against your ribs, a factor your mind is inclined to believe. 

Anything but the onerous honesty of what you are unfeignedly feeling. 

Joseon will be your husband, he will be the man that you love and cherish for the rest of your life because you said yes, because he is where you feel most secure. Unlike the trembling hands of the man who your heart lingered for. Where you found yourself always scared to fall, doubting he could ever catch you. Your fiance is who the universe has sent for you and it is in your best interest to believe that, it is what you need to convince yourself of until there is no scope of contemplation left inside of you. 

Joseon has to be your person. 

“Alright, ladies I need the bridesmaids to please accompany me downstairs for a few pictures” Sasha, your wedding planner announces whilst she steps into the room, her all-black formal attire standing out amongst the pastels and soft colors that ornament the day. 

The bridesmaids pour out of the room obediently, leaving behind echoes of laughter in the hall they disappear into. Sasha glances in your direction and provides you a warm smile, one that you reciprocate momentarily before your eyes shift back to the mirror in front of you. You can't allow her to look at you for a moment longer, scared that she might be able to notice the precariousness blooming within you. 

“Everything is going smoothly Y/n” she reassures you, perceiving the nerves that rattle through your bones. You pretend like that eases you, like somehow that is enough to stop the trembling in your hands. 

“And you look stunning” she adds and this time you turn to look at her again, another smile spreading across your cheeks, this one more genuine. 

“Thank you” your words come out as a whisper, ending in a squeak and then a trail of giggles which she shares with you. 

You clear your throat as it drains from all moisture caused by the question that makes its presence in your head and you almost feel guilty for even being curious but you ask anyway. 

“How’s Joseon?” Sasha smiles, oblivious to your current feelings, she thinks the question is rather romantic but in reality all you want to know is if he’s feeling as ill at ease as you are. 

If you aren’t the only one feeling out of place.  

“He’s ready,” she laughs “He can't stop saying how much he wants to see you already.”

Your stomach twists with the information and an intrusive idea perks in your mind, perhaps if you do see him before the ceremony then all these questions racing inside your mind will disappear.  Maybe they will evaporate into thin air the second you lay eyes on him - like they do in the movies. 

Perhaps his familiar face will silence the hesitation that has built intrusively inside of you. 

“Tell him I want to see him too” you state but it sounds more like a request, a desperate one. 

“Don't worry, you will get to soon” Sasha affirms but fear settles in your gut. The kind of terror that is baseless,  influenced by the anxiety that devours you swiftly and you reluctantly conclude that seeing Joseon is no match for the doubt that inhabits you. 

It wouldn’t change a thing. 

“Yeah” you sigh, nodding your head whilst attempting to dry off your clammy palms against the silk fabric of your robe. 

“Well I’ll let you finish” she cheers “You have abouuuttt” she mumbles, looking down at the watch she wears on her wrist “About 45 minutes to get ready, and then we will be on standby for your entrance.”

You inhale sharply, the sound of an absent clock thundering inside of your mind. Is it too late to change your mind? And if you do, would you hurt Joseon? But you already know the answer as you watch your wedding planner exit the room, only exhaling when she is completely gone.

“Are you nervous?” Brie, your make-up artist whispers, as if she is asking something no one should hear and you jump at the sound of her voice, too lost in your thoughts to realize she is still there. Her gentle laughter pervades the space and for some reason it irritates you, taking her innocent joy as mockery. 

Why was everyone so happy? So excited? When this was your big day, your moment. You’re the one supposed to be feeling elated, and ecstatic. But yet, no matter how hard you try, you are incapable of unearthing those feelings inside of you. You are left with no other option than to cling to the possibility that this must happen to everyone, that you aren’t the only one accompanied by this feeling on your wedding day. 

Your eyes find Brie’s, her stare reflecting sympathy and selfless happiness and you realize the anger that builds up inside of you is misplaced. 

Though you don't offer her the truth and perhaps it is because you honestly don't know what you are feeling, all you know is that you are blinking more than usual and your heart slams against your chest, hoping that if it manages to collide with your sternum hard enough it will rip open for it to escape. 

So, you shake your head and negate the profound emotions that you should urgently expose but that you yearn to hide.

“I'm ready” you breathe “more than I’ll ever be.”

“That’s good” she hums while she blends in the blush on your cheeks, her tone is doubtful and you can feel yourself begin to panic. Does she not believe you? Has she noticed your uneasiness, but of course how could she not - you’re usually a chatterbox, sparking the most random conversations, laughing at the most absurd things but now it's as if you can’t open your mouth unless it's to say how fine you are. 

“It’s okay to be nervous” Brie speaks again, turning to grab another one of her brushes. Your moistened eyes come up to look at her once again, dread dropping like a splash of ink inside you “This is a big step, not everyone is brave enough to do it.”

For an instant you are drawn to confide in her, to tell her what’s happening. If someone else helps you carry the burden then it can’t possibly weigh so harshly on your shoulders, right? 

“Brie” you begin to speak, a warning preparing to follow after. 

‘Don't tell anyone this but I don't think I'm ready’

“It will all be over when you walk down the aisle and then you'll laugh about it for years to come '' she says and your mouth clamps shut, swallowing your words. 

“Yeah” you agree, a small smile appearing on your face to appease her. 

And you pray that she’s right, that once you see the faces of all your loved ones, of Joseon then all these conflicting feelings will subside. 

There's a soft knock on the door, the subtle sound reverberating inside of the silence that has begun to form inside the room but you ignore it, reluctant to have to face yet another person whom you’ll need to hide from in hopes that they don’t notice how you fall apart. 

“I’ll go get it” Brie lays down her brush and walks towards the door. Your eyes drift back to the mirror in front of you and your next breath hitches in your throat. You don't recognize the reflection in front of you and within a period you begin to dissociate. 

She’s a bride. 

An imitation of all those women in the wedding magazines you’ve read for months now, the pink tint on her lips and blushed cheeks providing her an innocent appearance - the waves in her hair that are pinned to the back of her head waiting for her veil to be placed a detail you can't miss. You raise your hand to brush against your cheek, stroking the skin there softly as you succumb to the realization that something is missing. 

Because the only thing you can’t replicate from those brides in the magazines is the happiness behind their eyes. 

“Oh my god!” Brie’s high-pitched voice reaches your ears and you turn to look in her direction. You can tell she is holding something in her arms, a package maybe and you furrow your eyebrows at her sudden excitement. 

“What is it?” you ask, sliding forward in your chair. 

Brie turns and you get a glimpse of what has just been delivered, her face leaning down to inhale the aroma. The bouquet she holds is a cluster of soft pink and white, the colors seamlessly blending in a beautiful arrangement.

It prompts every single muscle in your to tense, your eyes widening in terror at the gift you’ve just been given. 

“Look! Someone sent these for you” She smiles widely, your hands clamp tightly onto the armrest of your chair whilst your heart plummets to your feet. 

“I wonder who these are from” Brie exclaims, her teasing tone causing your skin to grow pale as she reaches you. Your eyes remain on the flowers in her hands, too shell-shocked to react in the way she expects you to. The flowers are a symbol of something you have desperately tried to forget, a past that has no place in your memory today but that has been brought forth by the cruelty of the person who has sent them. 

Peonies.

There only exists one other person on this earth who knows how much you love them, who knows your fixation with its petals and colors. The sight of them is like a bucket of cold water being poured over you, it awakens every sense of insecurity inside of you and leaves you bare. 

“oh there's a card!” she chirps, pulling the small envelope embedded between the petals for you to see. 

You attempt to feign indifference but the way you snatch the card from her hand and stumble away from her sight exposes all your colors. Your hands tremble against the small white envelope, pulling and tearing until your fingers are raw, your chest heaving from the distress taking over you.  

You blink away the tears that glaze your pupils, raising the small card into the light where you find his handwriting and your corset tightens around your waist. Your lips quiver while you read the words there, a message that is short and simple - only taking him a few seconds to write and a lifetime for you to recover from. 

‘Best of wishes to you and the man that you don’t love’ 

The world dissolves around you and you anchor onto his words, your mind growing painfully quiet and the tantrum that your heart throws begins to subside. Your armor cracks as he unveils you in a manner only he can. Snatching away the lies you’ve been telling yourself to stay sane, no longer being able to hide behind the denial you’ve sown yourself to. 

The nostalgic evocation of him blinds you and a blood-curdling scream erupts within you, manifesting itself as a loud gasp that you choke on. 

“What does it say?” Brie asks, taking small steps in your direction, concern in her expression. Your eyes shift to her quickly, your hands subconsciously pressing the card to your chest in another poor attempt to conceal the truth. 

“Uh” you breathe, digging for an answer, for an excuse. 

“Oh, it’s just an old friend” you whimper. 

But Taehyung isn’t just a friend - not in the slightest or at least he wasn’t. No, Taehyung was not just a person, not someone you could easily forget or disregard. He was everything all at once. The definition of the right person at the wrong time, the reason why you’ve sought shelter in someone else’s arms. Too complicated to explain, too painful to recall. 

“Oh that’s sweet” Brie utters hesitantly, her eyes following along while you frantically pace around the room, nourished by the rush of adrenaline that pumps through your veins. 

“Is everything okay, Y/n?”

You snap your attention to her and you halt your movements, the card still pressed tightly against your chest. “Of course, I just need-” you inhale and your mind goes blank. What do you need? What would alleviate the torment you currently feel? 

“I just need a moment” You shut your eyes, trying to learn how to breathe again “Alone” you emphasize. 

“Oh of course” Brie responds, her worried eyes expressing words she doesn’t speak whilst nodding her head. 

“I’m just a bit overwhelmed that’s all” you gulp nervously. 

“No I get it” she reassures you and with one last worried glance, she makes her way towards the door. 

It is only when the door slams shut that you notice the heat that has blended itself in the air, sweat beginning to form on your freshly applied make-up. It leads you to rush to the open windows, your shaky hands reaching for the curtains which you pull onto desperately - praying for the scarce breeze of September to seep inside and offer you relief.  

You stare back down at the card that you cage inside of your hands and your eyes flutter shut as a loud sigh leaves your lips. You wish you could say you didn't see this coming, that somehow this was some kind of big revelation but Taehyung was an animal of habit, the habit of making his presence known when you most wanted to forget him. 

Your eyes move to the clock that sits on top of the nightstand and you shudder - you only have 20  minutes left until the ceremony begins and here you are losing your mind over someone who belonged to your past. You remove your robe, exposing your white lace lingerie, the intricately patterned fabric pressing against your skin, a gift you have prepared for your soon-to-be husband. 

You’re determined to push forward, to walk down the aisle that promises you happiness because it’s what you deserve. No longer would you allow Taehyung to play with your mind, not in the way you had previously - you convince yourself that he no longer knows you at all. 

The wedding dress that lays on top of the bed draws your attention and you stand still for a moment, inspecting the all-white gown that should be but isn’t on you. You sigh and reach for it, feeling the soft charmeuse fabric under your fingers. You try to convince yourself that once you put it on all will be well and these perturbing feelings along with that note will be left in the past, like a sick memory. 

Amongst the rest of the other things that you’ve shared with Taehyung. 

As you rush to put on the dress, you hear the soft hum of your phone ringing and you turn to reach for it, you know you are running late - it's probably Brie reminding you of the time. You look at the screen at the unsaved number and sigh as you answer the call. 

“I know” Your hand rubs over your temple whilst your eyes fall shut, an ache forming there. 

“I just need a bit of help putting on the dress.”

“I can help with that”

The voice is low and rasped, carrying a certain familiarity that you fear recognizing. It flows through your ear like a song, your brain recalling each time that you’ve heard it before, the many times your heart fluttered over it. 

“W-ho” you choke, your eyes opening quickly “Who is this?”

“You forgot my voice so soon, my love?”

You stand up quickly, dread forming in your gut as an inevitable realization comes to your head. 

“How did you get my number?”

“Ah you didn’t forget” he chuckles lowly, a certain taunt in his tone “I knew you wouldn’t”. 

“Taehyung” you whisper which is paired with a heavy sigh “Why are you calling me?”

“Did you get my note?” he ignores your line of questions, delivering you one of his own. 

You stare at the crumpled card thrown on the bed next to your dress and you turn away. 

“What note?” you retort. 

“You are great at many things Y/n but at lying? You were never good at lying” he states, his tone bringing chills down your spine. 

“What do you want?” you demand, a quiver accompanying the question. 

“Just wanted to hear your voice one last time before you became a married woman” he hums, as if his statement means nothing.  

“Taehyung” you warn.

“Oh come on Y/n” he chuckles once again “didn’t you miss my voice too?”

“No, I didn't” you snap. 

“Not even a little bit?” he asks, a smirk spread through his face which you can picture even from the other line. 

There is a knock on the door and you flinch at the abrupt sound. Your heart beats a mile per second and you fix your eyes on the clock once again. 

You have 10 minutes left.

“It was nice catching up Taehyung but I have a wedding to attend,” you say before ending the call,  throwing your phone across the room. You don't have time to sit and ponder what Taehyung wants, it's not about him today. You won't allow his selfishness to absorb you once again, in the end, that is all he wants. Your steps are rushed as you approach the door, hoping it’s Brie who has returned to help you with your dress.

You leave the door open before quickly turning, heading back to the bed where your wedding dress lays, the small Swarovski diamonds shining as the sunbeams on the fabric.  

“Brie, can you please help me I have 10 minutes to get ready and I'm so sorry about before I had a lot on my mind but I'm ready” you ramble, picking up the dress from the bed and beginning to remove the buttons on the back.

The door shuts and you hear footsteps approaching you.

“Can you please hurry Brie, I don't want Joseon to think I left him at the alter or something” you giggle nervously but as you turn to glance at Brie, in her place is a man, he wears a black suit with his hair brushed back and the grip on the fabric on your dress loosens, the dress falling to the ground. 

You scan the man’s face carefully, his small child-like smile luring your heart to thump faster. He’s taller than Joseon, his posture confident and relaxed, his intense and machiavellian stare the next thing you notice and of the small mole that sits on his right lower eyelid. 

“Taehyung,” you say. Your wide eyes blinking as if it would make his presence go away as if he was but a figment of your imagination. 

A small smirk appears on his face as his eyes travel your bare skin, a low hiss falling from his lips. 

“W-what are you doing here?” you ask, eyes narrowing on him. 

“Look at you” Taehyung breathes “a bride”. 

“Taehyung don't fuck with me, what are you doing here?”

“I wanted to see you” he explains plainly, taking a step forward which you respond by taking a step back. 

His eyes linger on your face, his stare gripping and longing and if it wasn't for the way you avoided it, you could’ve picked up on the subtle sadness in them, of an emotion that he hides behind his cunning bravado. 

“Well, you have” you demand “Now please go”  Your tone clings to fear - fear of what will occur if he remains in your presence any longer. Your resolution, the one that you had spent years building inside melts away like butter. You take in his presence and you don't dare say this out loud but for a second you pray that he stays for more than just a few minutes, that if by chance or perhaps luck he will say that he wants to stay, for more than just a few hours. 

“Y/n” he mutters, the delicate tone in which he says your name a weakness you had never been able to overcome. In his mouth, he holds words he has prepared for this exact day - reasons and explanations he should’ve given you in the past but had never had the guts to. 

“Don't marry him” he says instead.

Your eyes don't dare blink as you process what he has just uttered, your entire body stiff with the request. It feels like a slap on the face, an unforgivable offense but you can’t bring yourself to react except for the tears that swell in your eyes. 

“Why?” your bottom lip trembles and every muscle in your body pleads for you to turn away, to shut out his voice - to pretend like you didn't hear the purpose of his visit. 

“Why are you doing this to me?” 

“Did you think I would let you go through with this? Your surprise shocks me” he chuckles, moving towards you while you move away - until your back is pressed against the wall and he stands but a few inches away.

“Taehyung, please just go” you speak confidently, you try to find other words that would persuade him away from you but your mind goes blank, you know deep in your soul that you don't believe any of the things you push yourself to say and so you swing a cheap punch in hopes that it will land. 

“I love Joseon.”

Taehyung closes his eyes as Joseon’s name flows through your mouth, indignation building inside of him with the recognition that it's his name you should be whispering. He leans closer, causing you to sink deeper in the position you are in, fearing that if he dares touch you then your entire act will begin to deteriorate.

“Are you wearing the perfume I like?” he whispers “You are too cruel, Y/n” he opens his eyes and he scans every feature on your face, including your panicked eyes. 

You don't open your mouth to speak a word, entranced by his dark auburn pupils, your mouth falls agape and your chest rises and falls at the same tune his does. It has always been so easy for you to fall back into Taehyung, regardless of how many times he came and went and though you grip onto the scraps of dignity you have left, you know today is no exception. 

“Taehyung” you mumble, his name heavy on your tongue. 

He leans in closer and his fingers lightly trail the exposed skin of your thigh, the tingling sensation causing you to flinch at the absent touch and contrary to what you want to believe, everything inside of you wants to lean into it. 

“Look at you” he sighs “You look like a princess” he moves his lingering fingers closer to the lace of your white lingerie, his fingers tracing the intricate patterns there. 

“Is this for him?” Taehyung hums, harshness pouring from his throat. 

“Does he know?” he asks, his stare calling for yours “that when you fuck him you think of me?” he bites, coaxing a whimper to fall from your mouth. 

“That when you stare into his face ever so lovingly that you imagine it's me and not him.”

“don’t” You shake your head, your hands reach forward to push him back but he doesn’t budge - a menacing expression on his face. 

“Huh” he scoffs, a smile spreading across his cheeks “I guess he doesn’t.”

You remove your stare from him, your lips pressing together and you hate him, hate him for the way he is making you feel right now. You hate the way he has stepped back into your life as if nothing has changed like you have belonged to him this entire time - like he’s not an intruder. 

“That's not true” you snap back “In fact, I don't think about you at all” your eyes filled with disdain traveling back to his. 

Taehyung nods his head mockingly, feigning understanding but he doesn’t move from his position, his hand still brushing the skin of your upper thigh. He leans further in, burying his face into the nape of your neck, his nose brushing against the skin there - causing your breath to wedge itself ardently in your throat. 

“When you lie your voice raises in pitch and your nose scrunches slightly and if it was anyone else they would probably miss it but I-” he pauses, his breath cascading over your skin, the sensation leaving shivers down your spine. 

He raises his stare to your face once again, a small smile forming on his lips as he takes in your flushed cheeks. 

“Don't you worry love the only person you have to lie to moving forward is my twin brother” Taehyung remarks, his slander pointer finger softly sliding down to your belly button. 

“And yourself of course” he adds bitterly.  

You had met Junseo first, he was reserved and quiet, often hiding away in his books. It was the reason why you realized only 3 months later that you both shared the same history class and that he sat next to you. In the beginning, it had been a mesh of small cordial smiles and polite hello’s and then eventually, you had both found yourself in thorough conversations where you dissected his knowledgable mind, meeting after class for coffee and ultimately sharing your first kiss in the university library. 

It had been perfect, movie-like almost until one-day Junseo failed to attend class, and as a joke, his brother took his place. You hadn’t noticed it was Taehyung instead of your well-mannered boyfriend until your lips had met. The yearning on his lips as they collided with yours was unfamiliar yet exhilarating, it was as if 2 lovers had embraced each other after years of distance. 

You couldn't accept it, not even when they both sat across from you whilst Junseo finally introduced him to you,  all while Taehyung watched you intently, taking in the strain your nervous system went through as you tried to assimilate the information. 

Wondering if you would tell his twin brother of the kiss you both had shared or of the other transgressions you partook in on your bedroom floor. 

If you did, who could blame you? They were practically the same person but you didn’t then and you haven’t now. 

“You will marry him and you’ll spend the rest of your life looking for me in him, in others in the hopes that they can replicate what only I can give you” his mouth parts, his tongue slipping out to lick along the skin of your neck causing your legs to clamp together and an unwarranted sigh to escape you. 

“You’ll see my face reflected on every surface that you look onto seething for my presence but you’ll never find me” Taehyung glides his hand against your abdomen, softly and sleekly, becoming dangerously close to the part of you that aches for his attention. 

“I can almost see it, Y/n an old and empty woman consoling herself with the idea that she did the right thing” he annunciates, his fingers slipping past your silk white thong and finding its place between your thighs, his fingers finding your clit as he trails kisses on your shoulder. 

“Taehyung” 

His name is meant to sound as a warning, as a sign for him to stop but it bellows out as a moan, liquid gold falling into his ears. 

“What my love?” he hums, moving his face to meet yours - his mouth coming to capture yours which had remained agape. 

His hand doesn’t stop, his fingers pressing onto your sensitive nub in circular motions whilst his tongue floods your mouth. His fingers move slowly against your warm drenched pearl, carving out each movement he knows you love, the ones he taught you made you climax in the blink of an eye and you become puddy under his touch, moaning against his mouth as he drives you closer to that euphoric senseless feeling you have craved for so long.

Taehyung pulls away from your lips, his tongue licking along your reddened plump lips, a hiss pouring out of his as he catches your blissful expression, the feeling of your juices covering his fingers enticing an animalistic desire inside of him. 

“It feels good, doesn't it?” he groans, a question you can’t answer regardless if the answer sits on the tip of your tongue, you are breathless and completely wrecked. 

The speed at which his fingers move increases, an evil smirk spreading across his face as his eyes darken with utter admiration. Taehyung has lusted for this moment for so long that now that he stands here, it feels surreal. In his mind he has replayed this scenario time after time, touching himself to the thought of watching you cum. 

“Answer me” he pleads, his brows knitting in concentration - replicating the pleasure on your face. You nod quickly, your eyes fluttering shut whilst your body trembles. You try to remember what breathing feels like, try to find it within yourself to bring air into your lungs but your walls clench around his fingers and your mouth falls open - a trail of moans and whimpers cascading out of it. 

“Do you want me to fuck you?” Taehyung hums, his tone innocent as if his words don't implicate anything like nothing matters and you wish that you could come back to your senses, it's wrong that he’s touching you like this and it's wrong that you are letting him. You wish that you could push him away and berate him but you want him everywhere, all at once and in this moment nothing matters, not even your morality. 

Your body complies to his request with a loud whimper and within a second, his hand peels away from your throbbing cunt, his arms reaching behind your legs until they are wrapped around his waist. He moves towards the bed where he places your body on top of your wedding dress, the one you are supposed to be wearing at this moment whilst your expecting fiance waits for you at the altar. 

You look up at him with lustful eyes, noting the veins that run through his hands as he removes his suit jacket, the dark blue fabric flying across the room. 

“Fuck you look gorgeous” Taehyung mutters, biting onto his lower lip. His hand reaches for your cheek, caressing the skin softly - his thumb gliding against your lips until you part them, sucking it inside. 

Your tongue twists around the digit causing him to moan out loudly. 

“Im going to fuck you so good love” he promises.

He reaches to undo his belt buckle whilst bringing your body further up the bed until your head is almost at the headboard. He slides his belt off with a swift pull, his eyes beaming with ardor as he watches your willing body lay underneath his. 

“Give me your hands” Taehyung instructs, a playful grin emerging on his face. 

“I-i” you hesitate. 

To do as told would be to be left under his devices, a victim to his rigorous plans and you know better, you ready yourself to decline because you shouldn’t be here in the first place and you know someone will be knocking on your door any minute now, concerned for your whereabouts but your body screams for his attention and so you oblige like Taehyung knows you will. 

In a swift movement, your hands are tied to the headboard above you, the black leather of his Hermes belt pressed tightly against your wrist, you let out a small whimper and when you turn to face him once again, he’s standing at the end of the bed. 

Taehyung eyes trace every inch of your skin as if it is the first time he has seen you in this light yet, it's not. He can give master classes on your naked body, and go on 3 hour rants of how to make you cum. He knows you, he knows it all. 

You quiver slightly, begging for his attention and if it wasn’t for the heat that rises through your entire body, you’d probably feel pathetic. 

“What's wrong love?” Taehyung coos. 

“Taehyung” you whimper. 

“Yes?” 

He’s teasing you, luring you into saying what he’s been daydreaming of hearing for weeks now, ever since the invitation arrived in the mail. He couldn’t bring himself to accept it, it was always supposed to be him in Joseon’s place, he needed to be the one responsible for your happiness, not his charactless brother. 

Him. 

He wanted to hear you say that you chose him. 

“Please” it’s a sigh, a breath you whisk out of your lungs as your body trembles in anticipation. 

Taehyung unbuttons his shirt slowly, each button getting his utmost attention - his eyes never leaving your laying figure. He knows you are running out of time but Taehyung does not care to rush, in fact he will milk this moment for all it’s worth because if this is the last time that he gets to see you like this, whimpering his name then he will make sure neither of you forget it. 

Besides, the way you lay tied to the bed, expecting his touch lures a heightened level of lust to spread inside of him, causing his heart to beat faster, for his hardened cock to press against his freshly ironed cashmere pants. He can't bring himself to think straight, not when you wait for him in your white-laced lingerie and the only thought that crosses his mind is of how good your warm walls will feel around his cock. 

Taehyung drops the shirt from his shoulders, slowly crawling on top of you. His head lowers until his lips brush against your abdomen, leading your body to quiver at the feeling of his warm breaths cascading over your skin. 

His slender hands grip your waist, carefully hooking his fingers around the waistband of your thong and with a swift movement they are gone, your lower body now exposed for his admiration. 

The loud sound of your heart slamming against your chest is all that you can hear, the mere anticipation of what he will do leaving you breathless. You watch intently as he slowly parts your legs, his soft hands moving under your thighs - removing the weight from your body until your needy cunt is but inches away from his face. 

Taehyung collects saliva on his tongue and he spits, covering your folds in his tepid saliva but he doesn't allow enough time for you to react as his tongue begins to slide against your cunt, licking as if your slit is a sweet delicacy. 

You try to keep yourself from moaning out but the hiss that erupts from your mouth betrays you, accompanied by a trail of struggled breaths and soft moans. 

He loses himself at the taste of you in his mouth, your juices spreading across his face and he can't deny the thrill the tremble of your legs causes him. He can't stop, savoring your wetness with each lick of his tongue. 

The urge to run your fingers through his hair leaves you frustrated, your arms pulling on the restraints that halt your desired movements. You can feel it, the pressure in your lower abdomen. It drives your eyes to flutter shut and for your moans to become obstreperous. 

His tongue focuses on your drooling hole whilst his nose rubs against your clit, the combination taking you to a complete state of euphoria. Your hands grip the leather of his belt harshly and your body begins to tremor, you are close - dangerously so. 

Your hips buck against his face causing his grip on your ass to tighten as he tries to keep you in place but it's no use, your hips rotate against his tongue hungrily - your body seeking your sweet honeyed climax. 

“Oh god,” you huff, struggling to catch your next breath. 

“Yes.”

“yes right there, oh god.”

“Taehyung!” the scream that crawls out of your mouth sounds pained but it's far from it, it's a call for more, the need for his soft lips and warm mouth becoming ungovernable. 

The blend of his saliva and your arousal flows past your thighs as you allow yourself to call out his name once more which only leads Taehyung to bury his face deeper into your willing cunt, his tongue moving in circles against your throbbing nub. 

Your body stiffens with the next movement of his tongue, clamping your thighs against his head. A string of curses leave your lips as your climax overloads all your senses but Taehyung continues devouring your cunt, collecting your entire orgasm into his mouth. 

“You taste amazing” he hums breathlessly, his tongue licking the residue of you from his lips. 

You watch him through hooded eyes as he leaves open-mouth kisses on your inner thighs and then on your hips, his now disheveled strands of black hair lingering over his face. 

You whimper out whilst his hands soothingly brush against the skin of your ass, bringing your lower body back onto the white duvet that covers the bed under you. His eyes meet yours, his utterly lust-darkened pupils contrasting with your worn-out gaze. 

“Do you want more, love?” Taehyung asks “Think you can handle it?”

You nod despite knowing your body has not recovered from the high that has just rocked it, your breaths labored but your body presses for more. If your skin could speak it would divulge the way it has missed him, of the many nights it has spent seeking him. 

A faint yes comes out of your lips and Taehyung kneels before you, bringing your legs around his waist. His hands slide against the skin of your inner thighs, easing the strain his tongue has left you. 

He lowers his boxers, revealing his hardened tortured cock, which he alleviates with a few pumps from his hand. A soft groan falls from his lips as he looks down at you. From where he hovers in front of you, he takes in the beams of sweat forming on your skin, the way your chest rises and falls with every breath you take and the flush on your skin, the tincture a recalled memory of late nights in your dorm. 

He lowers the tip, teasingly gliding it against your warm clit, and the throbbing there causes his whole body to quiver with the ache that has remained buried inside of him. Your body jolts in response and your breath hilts in your throat. 

“You want me, love?” he chuckles lowly. 

“Yes,” you exhale sharply. 

A sly smirk forms on Taehyung’s lips and with a swift thrust he dips inside of you, vasting in the blissful sensation of your tight walls stretching out just for him. His hips move steadily, careful not to hurt you and before he can begin to move his entire length inside of you, you’re already a mess of whimpers and moans, the pulsations of his cock vibrating against your walls. 

He’s bigger than you remember and when he finishes burying himself inside you can feel his cock brush against your lower abdomen, the pressure that forms there causing you to let out a loud moan. He waits patiently for you to adjust because all Taehyung has is time and the unreasonable need to turn you out. 

“Look at you taking it all” Taehyung whispers, his eyes fixed on your bodies interlinked.

Your muscles ease and he begins his masterful strokes. Bringing his hips back and forth skillfully. His hand slid to your breast, guiding his thumb to draw out the movements of his hips on your nipples. 

With each thrust your body quivers, your legs pressing around his waist. His other hand brings your hips up higher until your ass is on his lap, driving his cock to hit angles you didn't know existed. 

“You may not miss me love, but your pussy says otherwise” Taehyung hums through groans “It takes me so well, like it was made for me.”

Your entire body shudders at his words, an overwhelming feeling of flusteredness coming over you. From his mouth, he spills a truth that you can’t deny, regardless of how much you’ve fought off the urge. He is the only one that you can allow yourself to lose with, the only man that can see all of you in this way. 

Utterly vulnerable. 

Your eyes study the pleasure in Taehyung’s expression as he plunges inside of you, it is pure satisfaction - his eyes closed and his eyebrows knitted in concentration as if he wants to engrave this in his memory. The sight alone causes your mound to quiver, for your core to drip around him. 

“Fuck Y/n”

His hands keep you in place as he picks up the pace, pounding his cock into you quickly. The sound of your previous orgasm gliding on his thick member leaving a chorus of pleasure inside the bedroom, the sound bounces from the wall and erupts into every crevice in the room whilst you both moan in unison. 

His movements are erratic and you can tell he’s close. Taehyung can feel himself losing restraint and all he wants is to fill you up with his cum, to witness your pretty cunt oozing with his nectar. 

“Tae hah” you shriek, the faint burning sensation beginning to form on your lower belly once again, you can tell this climax will be more intense than the last, your legs beginning to tremble from where they remain wrapped around him. 

“Just a little more, love” Taehyung exhales. 

You let out a trail of curse words, coaxing him to bring his eyes to yours, the yearning in both your gazes amped by the snap of his hips. 

The sounds of your intertwined moans are interrupted by a knock on the door and your body stiffens, your eyes widen in fear and you know you’ve run out of time - your guest waiting for your arrival. 

“Y/n?” Brie’s voice is muffled by the door separating her and your naked bodies. 

“Taehyung” You look back at him, panic in your tone but Taehyung does not appear to be startled by Brie’s abrupt return. It’s as if she’s not even there. 

“Shhhh” he instructs, moving from his kneeling position and coming between your legs, his body lying on top of yours now. 

“Don't worry” he whispers into your ear, his hand rising to brush away the strands of your hair that cling to your damp skin. 

“Just focus on me” Taehyung moves himself inside once more. You look up to him, concern written all over your expression but the feeling of your incoming climax is all too overpowering.  His tempo is cautious now, subsiding the alarm in your nerves, and you lose focus of the issue at hand. 

It’s like it doesn’t matter but it should. 

“I know you are close” he nods, leaving small kisses along your jawline “Let me make you cum one last time” Taehyung pleads. 

This is wrong and you know it, a line has been crossed but your legs wrap themselves around him once again, the clear indication that you have no intentions of ending what has already been started. Taehyung’s lips find your neck as he continues - sliding his hands below your ass and bringing you closer, his kisses he leaves on your skin hot and passionate.

“I don't think she left” You can hear Brie’s worried voice once more but you try to drown her out, withholding a moan in your mouth in hopes that she doesn’t notice that you are still there. 

“Answer her” he pants “before she calls someone to open the door.”

The thought hadn’t even crossed your mind but of course that would be her next course of action, given the state she had left you in when you asked for some alone time. You looked up at Taehyung, a curl forming against his lips as he stares down at you. 

He’s enjoying this in ways you can't even understand. 

You don’t think yourself capable of uttering a single word. The only thing coming from your mouth are bare moans and whimpers but you part your lips to speak, hoping Brie won’t catch the tremble in your voice. 

“Brie” your voice quivers. 

“Oh god Y/n! Are you okay?” Brie approaches the door, setting her ear against it in hopes that she can hear you better. 

Taehyung takes this opportunity to move faster inside of you, the bed beginning to squeak against the force he implements with his hips. You look up at him quickly, a loud moan threatening to pour from you. 

“Go on” Taehyung groans, his voice playful and excited. 

“I-i am fine” you whimper, your wrists twisting against the restraint. 

“Everyone is waiting for you” Brie pauses, looking up at the ceiling in desperation “Everyone is worried.”

“I” you begin but your climax has built too great for you to control, your entire body beginning to spasm as Taehyung withdraws his cock and slams back inside. Your eyes fall shut, unable to provide an answer to the concerned woman on the other side of the door. 

“Y/n?” 

“Fuck” you sigh loudly. 

“Is everything okay? Do you need help with your dress?” 

“Do you?” Taehyung laughs, his hand gripping your thigh as he too feels his climax nearing. 

“Taehyung please” you beg, rolling your hips against his.  

“What's wrong love?” he questions with a huff. 

You know he needs to stop for you to concentrate but there isn’t any part of you in this moment that wants him to, not in the slightest. You open your mouth once again, trying to give Brie a coherent response but as it falls apart a loud moan escapes in its place, one that Taehyung capturs in his mouth as he places his lips over yours. 

Your body begins to tense as your orgasm ripples inside of you, each loud moan being whisked away by Taehyung’s tongue and soon his muffled groans can be heard as his cock shoots strings of cum inside of you, the feeling of his warm milk causing goosebumps along your skin. 

You both remain still, riding out the high that has blinded both your senses. Your chest chest’s rising and falling in unison, labored breaths fanning within each other faces. You can’t bring yourself to open your eyes. Afraid that if you do you will have to come back to reality or perhaps because you’d melt into Taehyung’s stare once more. 

You feel the weight of his body ease and then with a swift pull, he unravels the belt that once had held your hands together, your wrists left sore from the harsh leather. 

“Y/n” he calls for you, the sound of his soft tone bringing warmth to your body. 

Your eyes open gently, your vision blurred until Taehyung’s auburn pupils come into focus and you cling to them, on the way their color fluctuate and blends into each other. Your weary gaze then trails to the almost undetectable mole that remains on his lower lash line, the one that you should’ve noticed the day you crossed paths. The small insignificant spot is the only thing that differentiates the two brothers. 

Would it have mattered?

If you had known back then that it was Taehyung instead of Joseon, would you have pulled away from his kiss with distaste? The question that has tormented you for years rises above the surface, bringing forth a bitter feeling inside your chest. 

Would it have changed anything?

“Run away with me” The words flow out of him effortlessly, with so much simplicity that you can’t even bring yourself to react to the proposition. Earnisty clads itself to his expression, his eyes holding within them pleads that he has been preparing to make for years. 

“What?” you whisper.