Fiicsjuseyo

Jungkook had locked you in another bedroom - one with no windows or lights. He decided when you would come out and it was only to bathe. You ate in the room alone and you often spent your own time in said room. 

Jungkook hadn’t spoken to you often, either. He would only say simple sayings - “shower time”, “dinner time”, “bed time”. 

As time went by, you realized just how cold the room was. How lonely. You would hear Jungkook right outside the door whenever he cooked or strolled by. You pondered what he was doing most days as it wasn’t spent around you. You could hear the faint sounds of the television or even music. At times, you would hear Jungkook’s melodic voice as he sang.

The third month - unbeknownst to you -  was when you cried pure tears of sadness and despair. You were lonely. You’ve gone to human interactions to none at all. The sane part of you would have told you to stand up and fight your ground, but you were weak now. You don’t know when the last time you saw the sun or breathed fresh air and it was driving you crazy. 

Jungkook had gently patted your head when you fell to your knees and begged him to take you out of the room. It hurt him to have to punish someone he loved, yet you weren't much of a listener. You had to go through such a heinous punishment for you to realize how privileged you once were.

“Feel better?” Jungkook asks as he allows you to sit underneath the sun. It’s hotter than you once remembered it being. There isn’t a cool breeze like last time you were out - naked and determined to run away. The breeze is warm, flowers blooming around you and Jungkook.

“Yes.” you nod in agreement, eyes darting around the scenery. The tree’s are a brighter shade of green, vibrant. There’s bushes and flowers that now formed as winter has ended and spring has arrived. 

“My Y/N…”

Jungkook takes your hand and places a kiss on the back of your palm. 

“Isn’t it peaceful out here? Nothing to worry about.” Jungkook mutters.  “No loud cars or people to ruin the scenery. No drama. Nothing but you and I.”

Your eyes blink a few times at Jungkook. He grips your hand in his own and the sane part of you is saddened that you missed his touch. 

Yet, you’re unsure just when that part of you was going to return. You didn’t want to return to the cold, dark room. You didn’t want to be alone with your thoughts anymore. You wanted to feel the sun on your skin and inhale the fresh scent of spring. You wanted to savor the human touch Jungkook provided.

Jungkook witnesses the shift in your eyes and slowly, he begins to smile. Not just because he managed to break you exactly the way he intended to. But because now you truly understand. Your mind is processing that all you had to do was be submissive to Jungkook. Do as he says and in return, you’d have it all. You’d eat well. You’d be treated well. You’ll get to feel the sun on your skin and inhale the fresh scent that the outdoors provides - but not if you disobey him.

“I’m sorry.”

Jungkook’s ears perk when he hears your voice - meek and soft. Slowly, his attention turns back to you fully and he tilts his head.

“You don’t need to apologize, my love.” Jungkook squeezes your hand in his own, satisfied with your willingfulness. His heart jolts a bit with anticipation. “As long as you know now that this is our life.”

You’re silent, your eyes roaming around the spring scenery. There’s a breeze in the air that isn’t like the cold one that you felt prior to being locked into the room. Time had carried on while it appeared to go excruciatingly slow in the bedroom. It causes your mind to break along with your heart. You didn’t want to go back in there and miss out - even if it was just you and Jungkook, at least you wouldn’t feel lonely.

Slowly, your eyes turn back to Jungkook and you nod your head, breaking out into a small grin. It appears, on Jungkook’s end, like a grimace - but he was alright with that! He understood your concerns entirely and knew that eventually, you’d grow to love him just as much as he loved you.

“It’s beautiful out here, right?” Jungkook inhales a bit. “Right through there,” Jungkook begins, jutting his head to the sight where there was an opening between the trees. “I like to go and sit by the lake. It’s a bit of a walk, but I can take you.”

Your curiosity peaks and you nod your head without much thought. “I’d like that.” you murmur with ease. Whatever it took to continue to inhale the fresh scent of freedom.

“Good. Wait here.” Jungkook’s eyes zone in on your face and he lets go of your hands. He wouldn’t call this a test to be exact. He was sure you wouldn’t run away if he went into the home for a moment - because that meant you would only be found and forced back into the locked bedroom for another three months.

Jungkook was right when he returned to find you waiting for him in the same spot. When you hear his footsteps creep back onto the wooden porch, your attention turns to him. 

“Here, my love, hold this.” Jungkook holds out what appears to be a lunchbox for you to carry, while he’s holding a black duffle bag around his shoulders. “I thought we’d have a picnic.”

Jungkook’s bright-eyed stare and thin-lipped smiles causes you to smile in return, a warm feeling going throughout your body. Slowly, you nod your head and take the lunch box. It is only a bit heavy and you ponder what Jungkook had to pack in such a short amount of time. Maybe it was already packed - he stated he goes to the lake often. 

Without thinking, your hand finds Jungkook’s and you entangle your fingers with his. You stand close to him as he leads you through the tree’s. As you and he venture deeper, you notice just how tall said tree’s were. How close together they begin to feel as you and he strolled deeper within them. Eventually, you note that there isn’t much of a path and Jungkook travels through memory - one you aren’t familiar with in the slightest.

“Are you alright?” Jungkook asks. “You’re squeezing my hand.”

“Sorry.” you mumble. You hadn’t realized you were doing that and immediately loosen. “Do you know where we’re going?”

“Of course I do.” Jungkook lifts both of your hands and kisses yours. “I know this area like the back of my hand. I know where to avoid and where it is safe.”

You nod your head a bit. Your head lifts up to see that even though it was the middle of the day, the tree’s cause only little light to shine through them. 

You swallow back your nerves, your mind wandering back to months ago when you attempted to escape and just what would’ve happened if you came into this area. You wouldn't have known where to run - unsure where the safe haven.

“Here we are.”

The lake comes into view. The large body of water appears to be still from afar, the surrounding land and tree reflecting off of the water. Jungkook stops about ten feet away from said water and drops the duffle bag and your hand. He turns towards you and offers a short wink. “No one else comes here, so we’re good.”

Jungkook seats himself onto the grass and you do the same. It itches against your skin, but it was a feeling you needed to become accustomed to.

You looked out into the lake, finding that it was enjoyable to just stare - even at nothing. The surroundings were quiet and calm, a relaxing aura surrounding you and Jungkook.

“Do you want to paint?”

Your attention turns back to Jungkook. He had opened the duffle bag and you notice that it’s full. Your eyes catch on several types of paint brushes and paints; all used. Some paint jars are covered with dried paint around them and the brushes are cleaned, yet stained with old paint. 

“You…paint?” you asked with a blink.

“Yes?” Jungkook couldn’t help but chuckle at the expression on your face. “Murdering people isn’t my only hobby.”

You try not to look shocked by his idea of a joke and slowly you nod your head. “I-I like to paint.” you say softly. “I’m not very good at it.”

“At what? Painting?” Jungkook questions, gathering all the supplies out from the duffle bag. He has several small canvases and you couldn’t help but ponder where all of this came from. You didn’t see him travelling to any stores or shops to get them and did he even have actual money?

However, you find that things were easier when left unsaid. You never questioned how the food appeared to be endless. How the water was always functional and hot and the electricity continued to work. This would be another mystery.

“Yes. I’m not very good at art.” Your hand grasps the canvas Jungkook hands you. “It was one of my least favorite classes in school.”

“What?” Jungkook snorts with a shake of his head. “Art is…well all around us.” he says, waving his arms around to the scenery. “Art doesn’t have to be conventionally beautiful. It’s whatever you make it.”

You blink at Jungkook once more. He appears to be happy to talk to you about…art. You hum, nodding your head. It was weird to think that someone like him enjoyed art.

This is how you found yourself for the next few hours; sitting besides Jungkook as you and he painted. He was better than you and made little to no mistakes. If he did, he would fix them easily. While you and he decided to paint the forested mountain and lake before you, his was amazing - something out of an art exhibit.

Yours…you were sure a child could do better. 

But, dare you say, you found yourself having fun with Jungkook. The atmosphere was calming, a light breeze in the air. The sun was high in the sky, but didn’t radiate harsh heat. The birds chirped around you, even if you couldn’t see them anywhere. Nature was beautiful - and you enjoyed it with Jungkook.

“Why do you kill people?”

It was a random question that slipped out as you and Jungkook ate. The strawberries he packed are fresh and the sweetness causes your taste buds to jump. Jungkook fed you, of course, but he made sure not to spoil you. He wanted you to understand that the sweets and snacks were a luxury that you were only allowed to have whenever he saw fit.

Jungkook blinks. He stops chewing on for a bit as he processes your question. He’s silent for so long that you think he’s only choosing to ignore you.

“I haven’t killed anyone since the day I broke out of that hospital.” Jungkook states, swallowing before grabbing a bottle of water and downing at least half of it. 

“I know.” you say, but you don’t really. You haven’t asked about the nurse and you could only hope she was alright. You’ve been locked in that room for months and you barely know what day it is. He could have slaughtered anyone and you’d be oblivious.

Jungkook hasn’t, of course. Missing people in an area like this would only cause suspicion.

“It’s the reporter in you that wants to know, huh?” Jungkook questions with a twitch of his lip. “You don’t believe what I said in the interview, my love?”

You inhale deeply. Jungkook had said a lot but also nothing at all. You didn’t get to the route of why Jungkook was a serial killer. Everyone had a starting point, right?

“I believe there’s more to the story.” you finally respond.

“Is that so?” Jungkook hums. “Are you afraid of me?”

The question is followed by eerie silence. The lake is unmoving. No birds flying high above in the sky nor are there any sounds of hiding insects in the wind. 

“I’m afraid of what you could do to me.” you murmur. “...Like locking me in that room.”

Jungkook leans forward to come closer to you. “As long as you listen, baby, you’ll have freedom. We can come here whenever you like.” he says. His hand reaches out to touch yours. His is warm and on the back of it has a splat of dried acrylic paint. “If you continue to disobey me, Y/N, I have no choice but to punish you.”

Your mind replays his words over and over again. As long as you listened…as long as you didn’t disobey him.

“There isn’t a reason you kill, is there?” you don’t remove your hand from his, nor do you go to push yourself away to be rid of his intense stare. “You…most people they kill to see what it’s like to take a life.”

Jungkook tilts his head. “I suppose you’re correct.” he states.  “I’ve killed this kid that was a few years older than me…I was around 11.”

Jungkook’s eyes zone onto you to witness the reaction you’d give. Your breath hitches a bit, but you’re unmoving.

“He was an asshole.” Jungkook continues. “He bullied everyone. He…” Jungkook clicks his tongue. “I grew up with two parents and a brother.”

Your brows furrow. You didn’t look into Jungkook’s background much as that was never the focus. His crimes were.

“I was a happy kid with a happy life.” Jungkook speaks again. “He wasn’t. He didn’t have a family. No one was going to miss some kid in the system, right? So I killed him.”

Still, though your heart is pounding, you’re still. You allow Jungkook’s fingers to entangle themselves with your own.

“He would harass anyone he saw fit and that day was my turn. I lured him into these woods behind our school one day. My brother had practice after school was over. He played the clarinet.” Jungkook could still remember the awful way in which his brother would blow into the instrument. “I ran as fast as I could and hid because I knew he would come and find me.”

You swallow.

“I found this big rock. It was heavy, but it’d do the trick was what I was thinking. So…” Jungkook lifts your hand to his lips to kiss it. “...I bashed it against his head. Over and over again. You know…only then did he ever apologize for picking on me.”

Jungkook chuckles with a shake of his head. He doesn’t think about that moment often and sharing it with you now is something new. Refreshing even.

“I won’t say I became a killer because I was bullied. Quite the opposite, my love.” Jungkook says. His eyes flicker to yours, reading your expression. Your eyes are wide with shock and he doesn’t expect them not to be.

“I…became enthralled with the act of violence. After basking his head in, I went home. I did my homework. I ate. I went to sleep and lived my life as if I hadn’t done anything at all. I found that I enjoyed it. It got my blood pumping. I never felt so alive.”

Jungkook’s truth was entirely insane. He was insane. He admits to such heinous acts with little to no remorse. He laughs as if it’s a funny joke - a cherished moment in his life that is so child-like and carefree.

Jungkook has been a monster since a young age and now you’re trapped alongside him for who knows how long. And yet, you don’t move a muscle. You don’t pull yourself away with disgust and attempt to free yourself from him.

“People feared me. Even if they didn’t know who I was…it was their fear that kept me going.” Jungkook lays himself onto the grassy ground and tags you to do the same. You and him are side by side, eyes staring right up into the cloudy sky.

“You weren’t one of those people. No matter how hard I tried to get to you…you didn’t break.” Jungkook murmurs, the memories flowing through him. The pictures he’d take of you, the bloodied messages he’d leave for you. Each night, you’d go back and document his crimes live while the remaining reporters had all quit.

“Eventually, killing became…a way to express myself to you.”

“Why?” you finally speak up, voice soft.

“Killing wasn’t the only thing making me feel alive anymore.” Jungkook answers. “I allowed myself to be caught.”

“That’s insane.” you scoff, turning your head to look right at him. 

“It is, isn’t it?” Jungkook snorts. “I’ve been who I am since a child yet I haven’t been caught. I was already estranged from my family and what else did I have to lose? I allowed everyone to see who the Beast of Busan was. I wanted you to see me.”

Your heart jolts again and you’re unsure why.

“I saw you as a murderer.” you say, now turning your body fully to face him. The grass is itchy against your skin, but you’d prefer this over the cramped, dark bedroom any day. “I wasn’t one of your fangirls.”

“I know.” Jungkook turns your way, as well. “That’s what I liked about you. I could have lied to you. Present myself as a good guy and go to you that way. But I’m no liar.” Jungkook states. 

“You risked your freedom just to not be a liar?” you’re unsure why you’re smiling. Maybe because Jungkook’s words are insane just like him.

“Nothing else to lose.” Jungkook shrugs his shoulders. “Am I not free now with you beside me?”

Jungkook had a point.

“I’ve never lied to you. I’m a murderer, yes. I’ve killed dozens.” Jungkook’s hand reaches out to touch you. He’s happy when you don’t flinch away. “I don’t have to kill anyone else. You captivate me in ways that not even I understand, you know? You outweigh the bloodlust.”

The sane part of you would have told you that Jungkook’s words were lies. That a murderer would always be just that. This was a manipulation tactic - “as long as you’re here as my hostage, I wouldn't kill anyone else”.

Yet, you find that your heart is pounding outside your chest so rapidly. Jungkook’s hand caresses your cheek gently. They’re soft - not hard or calloused like a murderer's hand should be.

Footstep sounds that causes Jungkook to immediately become alert. He sits up instantly, his eyes snapping to the sound of the noise. About ten feet away, an older man steps into view. He’s holding fishing gear and whistling to himself. He doesn’t notice you or Jungkook until he makes himself closer.

“Hello.”

The man is old. White hair on top of his head. Thick glasses that sit on his nose and a bear so long that it touches his chest.

The old man voices cracks as he speaks. He places the fishing gear on the ground and waves slowly, his actions showing his old age.

Jungkook blinks. “Hello.” he calls back, on alert. 

“I didn’t know we had young people around here.” the old man laughs. “Young love…”

Jungkook watches as the man, slow as ever, begins to prepare to fish. His eyes dart to the lake and he furrows a brow.

You watch, as well, unsure what Jungkook was going to do next.

“Are you two staying for spring break?” the old man asks. “I have grandchildren around your age. A shame they don’t visit often…” he begins to murmur under his breath.

The old man doesn’t know Jungkook. He doesn’t know that he’s speaking to a murderer.

Jungkook releases a breath through his nose.

“Yeah, spring break.” Jungkook nods his head slowly. “My parents own a cabin not far from here. My girlfriend and I are only visiting.”

The old man smiles. “Young love…chivalry should never die!”

“Want to go for a swim?” Jungkook had asked you one warm night. It was random - completely out of thin air. He and you had been watching a movie he put on when he asked.

“Now?” you ask, lifting your head from his shoulders to look at him. “It’s…nighttime.” you deadpan.

“I’m aware.” Jungkook snorts. “It’s warm, though. The lake is just as beautiful at night.”

You didn’t need any more convincing. As weeks dragged on, you and Jungkook visited the lake nearly every day. He would show you different methods of painting all the while answering whatever questions you had. He would prepare lunch for the two of you and even sometimes the old man would make an appearance. You and Jungkook realized that the man wasn’t much of a threat and he was genuinely kind. He spoke of his children and many grandchildren and you and Jungkook listened.

“Are you sure we won’t get lost?” you murmur, your hand tightly grasping Jungkook’s as he leads you through the dark forest. A duffle bag is on his left shoulder as you basically cling the right side of him. 

“Positive. I told you, I know these woods like the back of my hand.” Jungkook assures, bringing you closer to him. 

Jungkook loves how dependent you’ve become of him. You freely grabbed his hands or arms at times without him initiating it. You cuddled closer to him when the two of you sat to eat, or to watch whatever was on tv. At night, you would even lay yourself onto his chest and doze off almost immediately.

Trusting Jungkook wasn’t not an option. You didn’t know where you were at and the act of being free from him has become foreign to you. You never asked where the groceries came from, but you understand enough that Jungkook leaves and comes back with enough to last weeks and that was alright to you. He has assured you had all the right necessities you needed - feminine products, soap, body washes and more. The sane part of you, wherever she was, is probably screaming at you to be weary.

“We’re here.” Jungkook sing-songs as the familiar path you and he took leads you right to the large body of water. The moon is full and high in the cloudless, dark sky. Its light illuminates off of the soft, rippling water of the lake, causing it to shed a bit of light to the dark area.

You hum, your eyes dancing around the lake in slight awe. Jungkook had been right again - the lake was beautiful at night, as well.

Jungkook lets go of your hand to drop the duffle bag onto the ground. He has a large comforter and a few throw blankets inside. He takes it all out to spread it across the grass. “You should probably get undressed.”

“Undressed?” your brows furrow. 

“Yes, silly. We’re going swimming.” Jungkook turns to you, a small grin on his lips. He removes his pants, socks and shoes then his shirt. He’s left in his underwear and he stands a moment as he awaits for you to do the same.

Your eyes roam Jungkook’s chest for a moment, before scanning his sleeve of tattoos.

“You don’t have any tattoos on your chest.” you say matter-of-factly.

Jungkook blinks. “I do not.”

You suppose you got your long awaited answer. You too begin to strip. Your sandals tossed aside and the checkered pajama pants with a loose fitted top. You, like Jungkook, leave your own underwear on, your chest already bare. You cross your arms, a bit chilly.

“Come,” Jungkook holds out his hand for you to take and you do. He leads you towards the water that you find to be surprisingly warm. The water splashes as you and Jungkook go deeper into it, until it’s right up to your chest.

Jungkook immediately goes under and you watch in slight amusement when he reemerges, hair slick down.

“The water feels good, doesn’t it?” Jungkook questions. 

“Yeah.” you nod your head. You aren’t sure the last time you actually went swimming - but you know it was never in a lake. At night. With someone like Jungkook. “Jungkook?”

“Hm?”

Jungkook halts his movement when he hears you call him. He floats on his back, eyes casted towards the moon. 

“You said this home belongs to a friend, right?” you question.

“That’s correct.” Jungkook dips underwater once more, this time reemerging right beside you. “Why do you ask?” he says, wiping the water from his eyes. Droplets of water fall from his hair onto his cheeks.

“Who is the friend?”

The lake isn’t as deep as one would expect. He’s able to easily place his feet across the ground and tilt his head your way.

“Why?” Jungkook questions. “Do you want to meet him?”

You shake your head. If you had to guess, you were positive whoever this friend was had to be like Jungkook. You’ve grown to like Jungkook and you’re not sure you could handle more than one of him.

“It's just…you seem to know this place like the back of your hand.” you shrug a bit. “And we never seem to run out of anything.”

Jungkook allows himself to grin. He makes his way a bit closer to you, grabbing your hips beneath the water to keep you close.

“Is there something more you want to ask of me?” Jungkook murmurs. “You’re dancing around the question.”

Jungkook brings you closer to him. He awaits for you to speak - to say what you were trying to say without coming right out and doing so.

“Did you have help getting out of prison?” 

Jungkook’s arms are around you, an act you don’t mind in the slightest. 

“Help? I would say no.” Jungkook’s finger taps the low of your back underwater. “I, however, did tell someone my plans and that’s how we’re here now.”

You nod your head, a bit surprised with Jungkook answering your questions. He didn’t appear to be lying, yet you wouldn’t know if he was or not. 

“In due time, you’ll meet him.” Jungkook leans forward to press his lips to your forehead. They’re soft to the touch, and he softly trails them down your temples to your cheeks. “The countryside is much better than the city, isn’t it? It’s so loud in Busan. It was hard to even think at times.”

“Yeah.” you nod your head, fully aware that now Jungkook and you are so close. Your hands are on his chest and slowly, your left hand trailing towards the tattoos on his arm. You trace them, eyes wandering with the amount he has. “Did your tattoos hurt?”

“Nah,” Jungkook murmurs against your cheek. “I have a high pain tolerance.”

Jungkook’s lips go from your cheeks to your chin and jaw. His kisses leave a tingling feeling behind as he goes lower, reaching your neck.

“Do you remember what I said months ago?” Jungkook questions, lips against your neck.

“No?” you tilt your a bit, silently enjoying the way his lips feels. 

“Back when you fought me.” Jungkook quips. “When you punched me nonstop? Declaring that I’d have to kill you to get you to stop?”

Your eyes close for a moment as Jungkook’s kisses come up your neck to your ear now towards your cheeks once more. He holds you tighter, hands rubbing up along your spine. 

Your mind flashes back to that moment, attempting to remember what Jungkook had said - he said, a lot. As did you. You recall how angered you were; mainly because you were becoming accustomed to Jungkook. You hated yourself for enjoying the way he was making you feel - so you attacked him. You took out whatever frustration you had on him and he allowed it - an act that only pissed you off even more.

“I said I’d never kill you, of course.” Jungkook and you are now nose to nose as your eyes blink open. “But I also said that your attacks excite me.”

Now you remembered, your body heating up underneath his intense gaze. That was right before Jungkook had told you to choose what you were going to do - continue to defy him or accept your fate. You months hiatus you spent right in the dark, lonely bedroom indicates exactly what decision you took.

You begin to ponder what life would have been if you weren’t so headstrong. That if you would have just accepted your fate and understood that there was no leaving Jeon Jungkook unless he allowed it. Would you and he be…happy together?

You press your lips against Jungkook’s without much thought, and even if he himself is a bit shocked, he gets over it instantly. He deepens the kiss, more than happy to finally feel you give into him.

Jungkook, of course, would have rathered you do this months ago. He hated having to treat you like a prisoner in a home that is supposed to belong to the both of you. He had missed waking up besides you every morning and cuddling against you every night - but it’s a lesson you sadly had to learn.

And now, you have. You were determined to make the most of your situation, your sanity slowly slipping away as kissing Jungkook didn’t repulse you like it initially would months ago. You legs wrap around his waist and he holds you effortlessly, your body appearing light as a feather underneath the water.

“You don’t hate me anymore.” Jungkook states between kisses. 

You think about his words. Did you hate him?

Jungkook, no doubt, was a terrible person who turned your life upside down in a blink of an eye. He’s killed so many people and has willingly admitted to it - going as far as stating that it excites him. He’s broken out of prison and dragged you far away from your home and forced you by his side.

But, he hadn’t hurt you, you think selfishly. Sure, emotionally, mentally and spiritually, you are drained. You gave up trying to fight the man but you were fed. You had cleaned clothes and bathed every day. The country life was better than the one in the city. You always felt like you were being watched by those who despised you for your connection to Jungkook.

Was being here with him truly this bad?

“I don’t.” you respond, pressing your lips back against Jungkook’s, this time your tongue finding its way inside his mouth. The action is lewd and it just shows you how desperate you have become for a man's touch. Or maybe it was his touch, as weird as it sounds.

Your tongue dances against one another, your arms now wrapping around Jungkook’s neck to hold him close. Your breasts are pressed against his chest, your nipples hardening.

To Jungkook, having you so close to him (willingly) sends jolts of electricity throughout his entire body. His hands roam down to the curve of your ass, groaning against your tongue.

The next few minutes blurr past the both of you - so much so that you two somehow manage to get out of the water and lay against the large comforter Jungkook had set out on the grass. Goosebumps erupt onto your skin at the cool breeze in the air, but Jungkook’s warmth right on top of you makes it better.

Jungkook’s cock grinds against your clit, both of your underwear equally drench with lake water. He halts the makeout session to release a low groan, his lips swollen red.

“You’re so beautiful.”

You roll your eyes at the compliment. There was no way you were any sorts of beautiful now, drenched in lake water and pieces of your hair sticking to you. Jungkook was a man and said whatever he thought sounded good.

“Shut up.” you grumble, one hand on Jungkook’s bicep while the other trails down his side to reach the hem of his underwear briefs. “I want you…”

Eyes dark, Jungkook licks his lips. His thrusting hips cease for a moment. 

“Right here?” Jungkook questions, though he isn’t exactly opposed to it. It’s dark and no one is around - yet he wouldn’t have thought you would be the one to suggest it. 

“Yeah,” you nod your head hastily. “I don’t care, I just…I-I just want you.”

You were turning into the person your sane self didn’t want to be. Desperate for any form of human contact that you settled for that of a serial killer.

“Ok,” Jungkook huffs. He allows you to pull down his underwear until it’s around his knees. “fuck, ok. Ok.”

Jungkook wants to treat you with delicacy - to show you the ultimate pleasure that only he could provide you. But now it’s evident that the both of you need one another now.

Your panties are next, being ripped off of you by Jungkook and tossed aside. Only a small percentage of you is worried about losing them.

Jungkook wraps a hand around his cock, stroking it a bit before he slides them through your folds. You’re wet, allowing his cock to slide easily across your clit. It causes a shiver to rise up his spine at how good it felt.

You lick your lips just as you feel Jungkook at your entrance. Your hand grips his tattooed bicep, digging your nails into it as he begins to enter you. Your head pushes back towards the comforter as he inches deeper and deeper inside of you.

“You feel so good.” Jungkook stammers, both of his hands onto your hips. “So, so good.”

Your legs wrap around Jungkook’s waist to keep him closer to you.

Jungkook takes it as a sign to pick up the pace, his hips buckling and cock sliding in and out of you. You’re fully unaware just how long it’s been since you had someone - anyone. In Busan, you felt as if the only person you could trust was Jimin, and that was fully platonic. You didn’t trust getting close to anyone after feeling watched due to Jungkook's…friends? Followers?

Jungkook’s mind swirls with you. His heart pounds rapidly as his thrusts pick up, adrenaline flowing through him. He finally has you - all of you. It took longer than he expected but it’s alright but now you submitted to him like he wanted. Your moans fill his ears, a tune that he was going to have ingrained in his mind forever. 

“I love you so much, baby.” Jungkook groans, eyes darting from your bouncing breast to your face drawn in pleasure. “You don’t even know how much I adore you.”

You swallow back another moan, walls clenching around Jungkook’s pounding cock. You had an idea of his sick version of love - you were dragged out of your home and brought here because of said love.

However, with your sanity slowly subsiding, your mind was telling you that this was love.

“I love you, too.” you groan, tightening your grip onto his bicep. 

Jungkook shudders, leaning away from you so he can force your legs apart further. He pounds into you, both of his hands underneath your knees. His head hangs low to watch you, water dripping from his hair. 

“I knew you would…” Jungkook grumbles, eyes clouded. “I knew eventually you’d come to appreciate everything I’ve done for you. For us.”

The forest isn’t quiet anymore. Your moans and Jungkook’s grunts dance off of the trees, mixed with the aggressive skin slapping. 

“For months I sat and thought about what I should do to you while in prison.” Jungkook huffs, his right hand sliding up from your hip to grip your neck. The act causes you to yelp at the rudeness of it, but you’re more than willing.

“I thought about…hurting you.” Jungkook grumbles, his cock plunging in and out of you. If he’s scaring you, you don’t show it. “But then I realized that it wasn’t your fault for what you’ve done. You were just scared.”

Your stomach churns, the hand gripping his bicep going to place right over his hand around your neck. Your eyes blink a few times, fluttering to look at Jungkook’s dark ones.

“I’ll never hurt you, Y/N. You know that, right, baby?”

“Yes,” you nod your head, somehow managing to speak over his hand onto your neck. “I-I know.”

Jungkook removes his hand from your neck and you suck in a deep breath. A rushed hand reaches out to grab the back of Jungkook’s neck and you crash your lips right onto his. Jungkook is a solid man and later you’d ask yourself how you manage to flip him onto his back, but you do. Your legs are on either side of his waist and you begin to grind onto his willing cock.

Jungkook, in this new found position, marvels at you. His hands greedily roam your body, gripping your breast then sliding past your sides to steady on your hips. You were so beautiful that he’s unsure where he should settle. 

Your hips rise and fall eagerly, your hands holding onto his shoulders for support. It’s insane to think how willing you’ve become in Jungkook’s world - all of an act of survival, surely. But even now you’re not so sure if it’s just that.

“You’re so beautiful, my love.” Jungkook’s hand grips your breast, meeting your hips halfway to fuck you deeper. “Everything I’ve done to get here was worth it.”

Nails digging into the skin of his shoulders, you feel the familiar clenching in your stomach. 

“The killing…the infection. I would do it again if it meant I could have you, baby.”

Your eyes squeeze shut, the bouncing you’re doing only becomes strained. Your arousal leaks along his thighs and it’s obvious you were cumming - Jungkook’s yearning words only dragging you there a lot sooner.

“You’re so obsessed with me.” you murmur after a short breath. It was only a joke, but when Jungkook presses a thumb onto your clit and twirls in with that look in his eyes, it drags you deeper into a state of bliss.

“I am obsessed with you.” Jungkook grumbles, now thrusting his cock into you as you hover above him, your pussy clenching around his so tightly. “I’ve killed for you, baby, there’s nothing more obsessive than that.”

There was something wrong, you think. Jungkook’s words cause something to flow through you. A sick sense of satisfaction that someone would claim to kill for you - the lack of sanity flowing through your mind that it had to be the most romantic thing you’ve ever heard. Mixed that with a bit of stockholm syndrome and possible delirium of being locked in a dark room then…

You were cumming, head pushed back. You release a struggle cry, giving Jungkook full access and control while you tremble above him. 

Jungkook isn’t too far behind and he never intended to last this long. He had waited for months for you to come around, distancing himself no matter how much it pained him. He missed you to his core, sleeping on your side of the bed with your pillow just because it smelt like you. He bathed with your body wash just to feel closer to you - even going as far as masturbating with his eyes closed, pretending that it was you there with me.

“I love you so much, baby.” Jungkook breathes, sloppy thrusts pounding into you while his fingernails dig into your skin so harshly, but neither of you notice.

Jungkook’s cum is warm when it releases inside of you and it begins to pool out even before he has the chance to pull out himself. His breathing begins to slow, his chest rising and falling in rushed patterns. His grip on you tightens when he releases his cock from inside of you.

Sex with Jungkook became constant - especially after coming from the lake and taking a shower. As time went on, sex became passionate; sensual. You and he couldn’t be bothered to stay away from one another nor did it ever truly matter. 

Now especially as you and Jungkook bathed, hot water poured down on both of you. Your right hand is wrapped around the shaft of his cock and your tongue swirling on the tip. Over time, you’ve enjoyed pleasuring Jungkook just the same as he does you, finding that his handsome face is drawn in pleasure mixed with the grunts and groans coming from his lips.

The tiled shower wall is cold in contrast to the water pouring down, but to Jungkook all he can think about is the way your mouth takes him so lovingly. 

It all happens so fast. You on your knees, cock in your mouth to you and Jungkook, tangled in the sheets. He has you in a hold, thighs spread apart while his tongue suckles onto your clit, working its way between your folds. The once silent home is full of passionate moans from your end, and slurping from his. It’s overwhelming as Jungkook, as a lover, was extremely tentative. He didn’t stop until you came each time - now no different.

One hand grips Jungkook’s hair as his tongue devours you. Dark, lust-filled eyes stare up at your face and the action only encourages him to continue. His head rapidly jerks back and forth, tongue laid flat onto your clit.

“I can never have enough of you, baby.” Jungkook disclosed, going to enter two fingers inside of you. His tongue, teasingly as he pumps his digits in you, flickers against your clit.

Your moaning increases. No matter how many times you find yourself in this position for Jungkook, the man always causes you to squirm. His fingers scrape your walls in just the right way, stamina unmatched. One of his favorite things to do is watch you come undone right before him, juices pooling around you and onto the palm of his hands. 

Just right now, your chest heaving as he pounds his fingers into you does your arousal pool out of you messily.

“Oh, fuck.” Jungkook chuckles. “You’re making a mess all over me, baby. Your pussy can just never get enough.”

Your thighs are quivering when Jungkook removes his fingers. He places them into his mouth, tongue swirling over them to savor the taste of you - a groan coming deep from his chest.

“You always taste so sweet.” Jungkook shakes his head. It was so hard not to be obsessed with you as to him, you were far too perfect in every way.

Jungkook stands, hands moving quickly. He flips you onto your stomach and arches your back and pulls you aggressively towards him. His cock is painfully hard and he needs to fuck you.

Your fingers dig into the sheets as Jungkook’s cock plunges into you with one quick thrust. Jungkook had two sides to him - the passionate lover that dotted onto you. And this side; the aggressively possessive man that took what was his.

Either side of Jungkook you enjoyed.

It doesn’t take long for you to be squealing loudly again as Jungkook fucks you. His thrusts are demeaning, both hands keeping you in place and shoves you right into the mattress. His movements are quick, rough and nonstop, eyes unblinking.

“Fuck, baby. Your pussy keeps squeezing around me.” Jungkook grunts. “You’re such a whore, Y/N, you can never get enough. Your pussy’s so greedy.”

You had become a whore, you think. You wanted Jungkook at any moment - no matter the time, day or what you were doing. It’s as though you forget a few months back the hatred and fear you fett for the man and just what he had done to bring you here.

“K-Kook,” you gasp, your cheek pressed firmly against the sheets. 

“Yeah, baby?” Jungkook snaps his hips deeper at the sound of his name from such sweet lips. “You’re going to cum again already?”

You nod your head pathetically, unable to form words at the moment. 

Jungkook snarls. “Such a good slut you’ve become, Y/N. You open your legs for me all the time and allow me to fuck you with no consequences.” your ass bounces off of his abdomen and Jungkook finds the sight utterly perfect. “You must want a baby, don’t you? Of course that’s what you want.”

A baby wasn’t ideal - not when he was an escaped prisoner hiding out. But, it was something that excited him. Out here, he could keep you and him safe from anyone as there was no one that lived for miles. That old man wasn’t a threat and overtime, said old man wouldn’t be around. Maybe a baby wouldn’t be wrong…

“Fuck,” Jungkook’s hips snap even harder at the thought of you carrying his child - or children. You being round with something that is just as much as him as it is you.  Someone he could love just as much as he loves you - it causes Jungkook to burst right inside of you, milky seed splattering your spasming walls.

The entirety of the day you and Jungkook find yourself entangled in the same way that it’s exhausting.

“Where are you going?” you ask Jungkook after another shower, your body wrapped in a robe. Your eyes watch as he begins to dress.

“I have to meet my friend.” Jungkook says vaguely. “I won’t be long, though.”

“Oh.” you say. You blink a few times, eyes roaming around the bedroom. 

“Is everything alright?” Jungkook tilts his head to look at you. 

“Yeah. It’s just…getting dark.” you shrug your shoulders.

Jungkook’s lip twitches upwards. He makes his way towards you. “You don’t have to be concerned about my safety, Y/N.” he says with a laugh. “Have you forgotten who I am?”

It’s a rhetorical question. Of course you haven’t, and the thought that you were a bit concerned about Jungkook causes your body to grow warm with embarrassment. He was more than capable in taking care of himself.

“Will I ever meet your friend?” you question, a hand on Jungkook’s chest. You smooth out the small wrinkle in his shirt. 

“Of course.” Jungkook takes your hand from his chest and kisses your fingers. “In due time. We just have manners to speak about before you do.”

You nod your head slowly. “I can start dinner.” you insist.

“Yeah?” Jungkook smiles. “I’d like that. Don’t watch anything until I come back. We both need to start the new season.”

It was only ten minutes later when there was a knock on the cabin door that jolted you back into reality. You had cut vegetables and were steaming them when the knock sounded. The kitchen wasn’t far from the living area and majority - if not all - the lights were on. 

Jungkook never knocks - he didn’t have to. 

The floorboards creak beneath your feet as you make your way towards the wooden door just as another knock sounds. The window right beside the door had the curtains drawn and you peek out to see a man - young. College age possibly. He’s holding a medium, shaped tupperware in his hands and appears utterly uninterested.

Jungkook wouldn’t have wanted you to open the door - right?

No one is supposed to know that you’re here.

You open the door a crack and look out. “Hello?”

“Oh.” the young man says. His attention is on you. “Um, I have bread.”

You’re quiet for a moment. “Bread…?”

The young man lifts up the container in his hands and shakes it a bit. “Yeah. My grandfather said you’d probably want some.” he says.  “He didn’t tell me the walk would be half an hour.” he proceeds to mutter beneath his breath.

You release a short breath. This was the old man's grandson - he talked about them not visiting often.

“I, uh, have to take the bus back home.” the young man says. It was a hint for you to get the bread so he can leave. It was obvious he didn’t want to be here. “It’s already another half an hour walk and-”

“Thank you.” you say quickly, opening the door to take the container. 

The young man nods his head as he places it in your hands. “No problem. I didn’t know my grandfather had neighbors…” the boy trails off. “Can I use the restroom?”

You blink a bit, straightening your shoulders. 

“It’ll be quick.”

It took five minutes. Five agonizing long minutes with you looking down the hall to the bathroom to outside. You didn’t want Jungkook to come and see that you allowed someone to enter the cabin for fear of how he’d react. Your hands are trembling as you begin to cut potatoes just as the boy enters.

“Thank you.” the young man murmurs, his eyes on his phone.

“No problem.” you stop cutting to avert your attention towards him. “It’s getting dark and I don’t want you-”

“You’re Y/N.”

Your mouth clasps shut as the boy speaks. He turns his phone to you, a picture of you shining back at you. “You’ve been missing for almost six months.”

Your heart pounds.

“My grandfather said you were with a man…” he says, voice low. “...is that man…forcing you to be here?”

You had hoped that your appearance had changed drastically from the last time anyone saw you. Your mouth goes dry and you’re truly unsure of what to say.

“Look,” the boy comes closer to you, hands up. “You’re here alone, right?”

Slowly, you nod your head.

“Okay,” he nods his head. “We can go together. My grandfather’s cabin is just down the hill. It’ll be a little walk but-”

“I’m not sure when he’ll come back.” you murmur. “He said he won’t be long.”

His eyes widen a bit and he swallows. “You’re…far from Busan, Y/N.” he whispers. “If you want to escape we need to go now.”

Now.

Escape.

Now.

Escape.

Escape…now…

“Come,” you boy takes your free hand and tugs you a bit. Your feet and his paddles along the wooden floor as he begins to take you down the hallway and out of the cabin door.

The cool evening air hits you just as you and he get onto the porch. Your other hand, still clenching the knife, strikes before your mind can tell you not to.

You sink the knife right into the young man’s lower back. A shriek releases from his throat and he lets go of your hand as he stumbles forward.

“W-What?”

The knife drips with crimson blood, your eyes looking between him and said knife.

“I…I can’t go back.”

The man eyes you as if you’re crazy.

“Jungkook he…he loves me. He…” you think back to Jungkook's words. He’d kill for you. He’s protected you all this time.

“You shouldn’t have come here.” your voice cracks. 

You raise the knife again, this time jabbing it into the boy's stomach repeatedly. Over and over again, your eyes glossy with fresh, hot tears and it blinds your vision. The young boy's squelching soon stops but even then can you not hear him over the sound of your own sobbing, the slicing knife digging into flesh just another background noise.

Your breath hitches when you feel arms embrace you and the knife falls onto the ground beside you. You blink away the blinding tears.

“Y/N.”

Jungkook’s voice fills your ears and again, you begin to sob.

“Come,” Jungkook gets you to your feet and brings you into the house. You’re covered in blood and it trickles down the hallway as he takes you towards the bathroom. 

“I shouldn’t have let him in the house.” you begin to say rapidly. “I-”

“It’s okay, baby.” Jungkook sits you onto the toilet as he turns on the water. “It’s okay-”

“He, uh…the old man.” you have to get your breathing under control before you can continue to talk. “...his grandson came and gave us bread.”

“Bread?” Jungkook furrows his brows. He slowly nods his head. “Okay…”

“And he…he asked to come use the bathroom and I-”

“It’s not your fault, baby.” Jungkook places both hands onto your cheeks. The broken look in your eyes causes his heart to jolt.

“He told me to run away.” you hiccup. “And…and escape while you were gone so I…I…”

The running water hits against the bathtub floor and the hot water steams up the bathroom. 

“...I didn’t want to go. You love me, right?”

Jungkook answers immediately. “Of course I do!” he says, pressing a kiss to your bloodied forehead. “Of course. I. Do.”

Jungkook isn’t upset at you. You’re a wholesome person who decided to see the good in people.

“Take a shower. Get cleaned up.” Jungkook murmurs your way, his hands sliding down your cheeks to your shoulders. “I’m going to get rid of our problem.”

You exhale a shaky breath. You were suddenly exhausted and didn’t want to do anything but curl into a ball and cry.

“Okay.” you sigh.

Jungkook closes the bathroom door as he walks out and down the hall. He makes his way out the front door and lets out a sigh.

“Well,”

Jimin is standing above the bloodied body of the young man. He glances up at Jungkook as he makes his appearance.

“It appears that Y/N doesn’t want to leave.”

“Are you going to help me or not?” Jungkook groans, motioning towards the body. 

Jimin furrows his brows. “No.” he scoffs with a jerk of his neck. “Are you dumb or just fucking stupid, Jungkook?”

Jungkook knits his brows with a snort. “What the hell are-”

“You aren’t supposed to be here, Kook.” Jimin hisses, pointing a finger at the cabin. “I said a month tops then you go. Leave the fucking country but do you listen?”

“Jimin, I-” Jungkook sighs. “I didn’t have time for that. Y/N...she wasn’t ready-”

“Who the fuck is this?” Jimin hisses, pointing at the corpse. “And bullshit. You’ve been fucking her for months-”

“No one comes out here!” Jungkook hisses back. “He wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for the old man.”

“Old man?” Jimin questions. “He’s still alive? Damn.” he blinks a few times. “Did he recognize you?”

“Not at all.” Jungkook shakes his head. “Not as the Beast of Busan  or as the one of the kids who used to come by and help with his garden.”

Jimin nods his head. “He probably has dementia,” he murmurs. “Who’s to say he even remembers sending his grandson here?”

Jungkook hums. “Probably not at all.” he murmured. “What should we-”

“I’m not getting dirty with you.” Jimin raises a hand. “I’m wearing valentino. If I would’ve known you’d turn Y/N until a little killer-”

“She’s not-”

“-I probably would’ve worn something less expensive.” Jimin waves him off. “Put him by the bear den.” he shrugs. “People would find some type of trace of him there if anyone comes looking. They’ll think it’s just natural selection.”

Jungkook was thinking of cutting his body into pieces and possibly burning them - but the bear den was possibly better and it was further from here. No one would come snooping around.

“Yeah.” Jungkook nods his head hastily. 

You sit in the room, towel around your body when Jungkook appears. You’re positive dinner is ruined and you feel even more terrible. Your mind replays the events over and over in your head.

“Are you okay?” Jungkook questions from the doorway. “Did he hurt you?”

“No.” you say, answering both questions at once. You inhale deeply and sit up onto the bed. “Is…he gone?”

Jungkook nods his head slowly. “He is.”

You look over Jungkook’s appearance. His clothes are muddy and you contemplate asking if he buried him, but you decided against it. You didn’t want to know.

“What you’ve done, my love, is not your fault.” Jungkook allows a smile to form onto his lips. “You did it out of love. You’ve killed for me the same way I would've done for you.”

Your heart jolts. “You aren’t mad?” you have to ask, even if he stated before he wasn’t. You added more stress to an already stressful situation.

“Of course not.” Jungkook steps into the bedroom and kneels down by the edge of the bed. He takes your hands in his own. “No one is ever going to find out about him or us.” he says in a whisper. “We’re safe here. You and I.”

Jungkook spent the rest of the night thinking about you. He couldn’t believe what he saw. He couldn’t believe that you’re a werewolf.

Obviously, you’re not aware of it otherwise you wouldn’t have reacted the way you did when he revealed the existence of the werewolf word. Normally, you should have recognized him since he’s the king, but you didn’t. So, he strongly believes that you were adopted. That’s the only reason that could explain why you aren’t aware.  

Now, he needs to understand why you were adopted. A pack never gives up on their little ones. He can think of many reasons why, but he needs to figure out what happened to you. He doesn’t want to simply reveal your true nature without having any certainty.

However, what concerns him is the fact that you haven’t turned yet. Normally, around fourteen years old, under a full moon, you should have experienced your first transformation. Maybe the fact that you ignore everything about that has caused your wolf blood to be dormant.

The next morning, he started looking into every record he has access to about the Shadows. The blue eyes are a characteristic specific to the Shadow pack. Every pack has its own eye color; it’s the way to distinguish every wolf. Jungkook’s pack, the Bloods, has red eyes. However, his eyes have a darker red shade. This is a trait specific to the king; he inherits it the second he goes from heir to king.

“Jungkook,” Taehyung, his best friend makes his way inside his office.

The man looks up at his best friend before a bright smile appears on his face. It’s been a little while since they last saw each other. Taehyung has been traveling a lot lately; he said he wants to discover the world before settling with his mate. However, it looks like he doesn’t want to settle down at all.

“Hey, Tae,” he stands up to greet his best friend. “What are you doing here? I thought you were lost somewhere in France.”

“Well, I needed to come back,” he replies with a smile. “Couldn’t stay forever in France.”  

Both men start talking about what has been happening for the last month. Jungkook doesn’t go too much into detail. He only mentions he contacted a fertility clinic, and that he’s right now concerned about something happening in the Shadow pack.

Taehyung, on his side, tells his friend about all the places he went to. He was in Europe, discovering a lot of different countries. He definitely adored going around and discovering new cultures, new food, and meeting new people. For sure, his favorite place was Paris.

“Do you need any help with those Shadows research?” Taehyung asks casually although his sharp gaze indicates that he already knows the answer.

Jungkook nods, his shoulders visibly tense. He’s never been one to ask for help, but this time he definitely would need some.

“I wouldn’t refuse it,” he answers to his most trusted friend.

Taehyung crosses his arms, leaning against Jungkook’s wooden bookcase.

“What exactly are you looking for?” he frowns while grabbing a book.  

“I don’t really know,” Jungkook says. “A record, a mention, a trace of a couple that died or disappeared,” he explains.

Taehyung looks up at his friend before looking down at the book again. By pure coincidence, the book he’s holding is an old one about the different werewolf packs. It’s one of the first books he read; it details the characteristics of each pack.

“A couple who died or disappeared?” he repeats his friend’s words. “Is this by any chance related to a girl?”

Jungkook freezes for a split second, but it’s enough for Taehyung to catch. He’s been very observant, especially when it comes to Jungkook.

“No,” he lies, his voice steady and firm.

Taehyung isn’t convinced; his eyes narrow as he studies his friend. He knows Jungkook better than anyone else, and while he’s very good at hiding his emotions, there’s something in his posture, something in the way he’s looking at Taehyung, that betrays him.

 “You’re unreadable when you want it, you know that?” Taehyung finally says, walking closer to his friend who is standing behind his desk. “But something tells me this isn’t just about finding old records. If you’re diving into the Shadows' history, there’s a good reason behind it. You don’t waste your time on anything without a reason.”

Jungkook sights while running a hand through his hair. “It’s complicated, Tae.”

“You know I’m here, right? Whatever this is, whatever you’re digging into, you don’t have to do it alone.”  

The werewolf king would love to tell him everything, but he doesn’t want to involve anyone at this stage. First, he needs to make sure you’re a werewolf, and only then, he’ll reveal it.

“I know, Tae. I just need to be sure before I tell you anything,” his voice lowers. “Before I tell anyone anything.”

Taehyung nods, understanding that his best friend will share when he’s ready.

“Alright,” he says. “I’ll start digging into the Shadow Pack archives. See if I can find anything about missing couples and unexplained disappearances.”

Taehyung’s aunt is married to a Shadow alpha so it will definitely help. As a king, he for sure has access to a lot of records, but not everything. Each pack has its own secrets, and that’s the beauty of it. If Jungkook knew everything, his job would be boring. There’s always something new to unveil. Like your past.

Taehyung disappears a little while after, leaving Jungkook alone with his eyes fixed on the flames in the fireplace. The shadows dance across the stone walls, but his mind is somewhere else, on you, and on the fragile heartbeat growing inside you. He can still hear it perfectly.

He runs a hand down his face before letting out a deep breath. This was never supposed to go down like that. This mistake was never supposed to happen. But the raw and undeniable truth has already sunk its claws into him.  

How can he turn away from this? From you? From the baby?

He remembers the flicker of blue in your eyes. It’s been replaying constantly on his mind, but what is deeply engraved in him is this connection with you. He constantly feels your presence around him, something he’s never felt with anyone else.  

Even though he’s been deeply sorry to have brought you to his world, this flicker of blue made him realize that he brought you to your world. A world you didn’t know existed until he revealed it. His duty has been telling him to stay away, but he can’t.

The thought creeps in quietly, yet with unshakable certainty: This was never a mistake.  

The world may call it an accident, but Jungkook can feel something deeper, something ancient, something undeniable. Fate, destiny… whatever name it might have, it brought the two of you here. Together.

Every choice and every moment has led to this point. To you.

Now, standing quietly in his study, he feels the truth settling deep in his bones. This child growing inside you was always meant to happen. Jungkook leans against the edge of his desk.

“I can’t abandon this child, my child,” he whispers to himself. “I can’t abandon yn.”

It isn’t about duty anymore. It’s about you. It’s about the fragile life caught between two worlds, and the bond he can already feel forming. Whether he’s ready to admit it or not. Jungkook straightens up, shoulders squared, and jaw tight. The king in him knows what needs to be done, but the man knows what he wants to do.

“I’m staying,” he runs his hand over his hair.

This isn’t just a choice. It’s the acceptance of what was always meant to be. Whatever challenges await, Jungkook knows one thing with absolute certainty: This was always supposed to happen.

For the past five days, Jungkook and Taehyung have been trying to find anything about missing couples and mysterious disappearances, but it’s been in vain. There’s absolutely nothing. Thirty years ago, nothing special happened.

However, Jungkook asked Sungmin, Taehyung’s uncle to meet. Records are one thing, but Jungkook knows better than anyone that there might have been something off records that happened. Some secrets are kept hidden, locked away in the minds of those who lived them.

“Thanks for having me, Mister Song,” Jungkook says as he enters Sungmin’s house.

“I couldn’t refuse my king’s visit,” he replies with a warm smile.

Many people believe that the Alphas of every pack refuse the authority of a king, but those closest to the throne are often the first to kneel. For sure, Jungkook’s natural leadership certainly helps. However, the truth is that the werewolf hierarchy isn’t just a tradition; it’s more than that. Every werewolf deeply holds onto it.

“I could say that I’m surprised, but it’d be a lie,” he admits while he guides Jungkook towards the terrace. “I was expecting it after Tae’s request.”

“I imagine,” Jungkook responds.

The covered terrace is a serene and private space. Jungkook’s eyes quickly scan the surroundings. It’s a little but pretty space. Plates, cups, and a selection of biscuits are neatly arranged on the modest wooden table.

“Would you like some coffee or tea?” Sungmin gestures for Jungkook to sit.

“A coffee would be fine,” Jungkook answers.

The man takes one of the porcelain carafes on the table and carefully pours the drink into a cup, placing it in front of Jungkook.

“I was originally looking for a couple’s death or disappearances in your pack, but I couldn’t find anything documented,” Jungkook is straightforward.

Sungmin nods thoughtfully. “When do you believe this event happened?”

“Around thirty years ago,” he says.

Tae’s uncle freezes for a brief moment at his answers. His eyes flicker with something that Jungkook recognizes instantly: recognition mixed with hesitation. This is it. This might be the key to understanding your past.

“Something did happen thirty years ago,” Sungmin admits. “But we didn’t keep any trace of it out of respect to the family concerned.”

Jungkook is definitely very intrigued about this.

“The eldest daughter of an estimated member of our pack fell in love with a human. Despite our objections, she decided to run away with him. We all knew why,” he shakes his head as he remembers the sad story. “She was pregnant with that human child.”

The werewolf king listens patiently, absorbing every word.

“We didn’t inform your father immediately as we thought we could handle it ourselves. Involving the king into this would have drawn unwanted attention to this. For us, Shadows, discretion is everything.”

Jungkook nods, knowing perfectly the Shadow’s reputation. They are the ghosts of the werewolf world, unseen and often unheard, but fiercely loyal and deadly when necessary. The Shadows blend into their surroundings, disappearing when needed.

“We looked for them for years but couldn’t find them,” he seems really affected as he recalls what happened. “They were clever. They stayed hidden, and after nine years, we had no choice but to involve your father.”

Jungkook nods, understanding that after all that time, it’s normal to be reaching out to the king. “And he found them.”

Sungmin sighs deeply. “Yes. Your father had better resources than us. Within a year, he found them. Thankfully, this stayed between us and the king. He let us deal with this internally,” he explains.

The air feels heavier now, the weight of unspoken words pressing down on the two men.

“They were living in a totally different city. And they had indeed a child. A ten-year-old kid…”

Jungkook notices how hard it is for Sungmin to remember this terrible event.  

“It was very hard to end their lives, but we had to. The woman, her human mate, the kid, the life they had built… all of it was extinguished.”

Sungmin pauses, his throat tightening. For a moment, Jungkook sees the weight of guilt appearing on the older Alpha’s face.

“Killing a child was way too hard, but hybrids are forbidden. A child of two worlds, carrying both human and werewolf blood could destabilize everything. We told ourselves it was necessary.”  

Jungkook grips the edge of his coffee cup, his jaw clenched. The thought of such a decision sits uneasily within him. He’s not sure he would have had the strength to do that. It is one thing to terminate a pregnancy, but killing a ten-year-old child is totally another story.

“Did anyone else know about this? Anyone outside the pack?”

“No, only your father, and now you.”

“Do you think it’s possible that the child survived?” Jungkook asks, his voice steady but intense.

Sungmin looks directly into his king’s eyes. “We are certain they didn’t.”  

Jungkook leans back in the chair, his mind racing. If the child had somehow survived, if they had slipped through the cracks of fate, then everything changes. And if that child was you… He shakes his head, not sure that it’s possible.

“Thank you, Mister Song. This has been illuminating.”

Jungkook steps away, his heart beating fast. There are too many resemblances between this story and your story.

To yn: hi yn, could we meet tonight or tomorrow?

Barely a minute later he receives an answer.

From yn: hi Jungkook, tonight is fine. Same place as last time?

To yn: sure

As you’re walking towards the location you agreed with Jungkook, you try to understand the reason behind his sudden need to talk to you. This is unexpected for you, so it definitely makes you nervous. Is he going to tell you that he changed his mind about the baby? Is he going to pressure you to abort considering the hybrid situation? Or even worse, has something happened? Your mind races through every possibility.

“Calm down, yn,” you mumble to yourself.

You take a deep breath, your eyes closing for a brief moment. The beating of your heart drums in your ears, and slowly, you can hear it calming down. You can’t start overthinking before you even get to listen to what Jungkook wants to tell you. Maybe it’s nothing serious or something you have to really worry about.

When you arrive, you notice you’re the first one; Jungkook hasn’t arrived yet. So, you decide to sit on the closest bench. You look at the passersby walking around you with ‘Tití Me Perguntó’ from Bad Bunny playing in your headphones. It’s one of your favorite songs.

After a couple of minutes, you feel Jungkook’s presence. Your eyes stare at the surroundings to check if he’s indeed nearby. Your senses are right, you see a man walking in your direction. Even when he walks, he has such an imposing posture.

This presence feeling grows stronger as he gets closer to you, and you can’t seem to look away, as if your eyes are glued on him. Weird things have been happening with Jungkook since you’ve met him, and you can’t quite explain them.

Once he’s in front of you, you stand up, a smile naturally growing on your face. He’s incredibly handsome and charming. Once again, he has opted for a casual look: a white shirt layered under a leather jacket completed with loose, brown suede-like pants.

His strong presence near you soothes you in a way you never experienced before. All the nervousness you were feeling minutes ago is completely washed away. His strong and bestial scent fills the air and calms down your racing thoughts.

For a moment, you remain in silence, but it isn’t an awkward one. It’s actually quite the opposite. His gaze holds yours, and the intensity of his eyes draws you even more. It feels like none of you needs to speak. It is as if the two of you are communicating on a deeper level that doesn’t need language.

“Hi,” you break the silence.

“Hey, yn,” he takes a step closer.

By the way he approaches you, you sense he’s about to hug you or something similar. You prepare yourself for such, but he ends up not doing it. Jungkook just stands there, a shy smile appearing on his face.

“How have you been feeling?” he asks with evident concern in his voice.

As always, being around him comforts you. It makes you feel like you don’t need to hold anything back. There’s no need to hide your thoughts and feelings behind a mask. You can be entirely honest, saying what you truly feel without the fear of being judged. It’s part of the weird things you’ve been experiencing with Jungkook. It’s something you never felt with anyone else, not even an ex. This makes you wonder just how much this connection truly means.

“Very much torn apart by the decision I need to make,” you admit.

“Have you already considered one of them?” he questions.

You decide to sit down on the bench, your hands rubbing your face. Should you be telling him that you’re very much inclined to keep the baby? Isn’t it better if he doesn’t know anything? In any case, he won’t be around anymore. He said he’d walk away.

“I’ve kind of made a decision,” you try to be as vague as possible.

Jungkook takes a seat next to you. This time around, he doesn’t seem to try to look away from you. His deep dark orbs stare straight into your eyes. As usual, he’s pretty much unreadable, but he has that soft expression on his face. It almost looks like he truly cares and worries about you.

“In case you…” he seems to hesitate, but he doesn’t look away. “If you keep the baby,” he continues, and your heart starts hammering in your chest. “I think I won’t be able to step away.”

You close your eyes while taking a deep breath. You’re not sure what you’re supposed to be feeling right now.

“I thought stepping away was the right decision,” he starts explaining. “Every time I tried to pull back, I find myself being drawn to you… to our child.”

The word ‘our child’ sends shivers down your spine.   

“I can’t turn my back on this—not on you, not on them.”

As he says those words, his eyes look down at your stomach, where a precious life is growing. Even though your eyes are closed, you can feel his gaze on you. You can feel it on your baby. You can simply feel Jungkook. His entire being calls for you, and your body responds to it by being completely drawn to him.

“Why now?” your voice trembles as your eyes open to look at him. “What has changed?”

This doesn’t make any sense. Almost a month ago, he told you that he couldn’t father this child because you aren’t a werewolf, and that this child's existence is completely forbidden. Things are still the same, nothing has changed since then.

“You said you couldn’t have this child because of the whole werewolf thing,” your voice tone is slowly getting higher.

Jungkook’s face now seems to soften and it looks like he carries an emotional weight. There is definitely something going on that you can’t quite explain. And it’s scaring you.

“I think…” he runs his hand through his hair, a nervous gesture you’ve started to recognize. “You’re not just a woman carrying my child,” he seems to struggle to express what’s inside his mind. “I think you might be one of us.”

His words hand in the air, your entire body freezing. For a moment, it feels like the world completely stopped moving. You blink at him, trying to process the enormity of what he just said. At this stage it feels like, Jungkook likes to make cruel jokes. First, it’s the werewolf world, and now, it’s this. How on earth can you be a werewolf? It’s simply impossible. If that was the case, you would have already turned or something like that.

“What are you talking about?” the sharpness of your voice even surprises you.  

Anger grows inside you, but it masks the deeper emotion of fear that you can feel. Your heart starts pounding erratically in your chest as the air grows heavier. How dare he? How dare he turn your world upside down with this unbelievable claim? You stand up, trying to calm yourself down.

“That’s impossible,” you say with a trembling voice.

You rest a hand on top of your heart, trying to anchor yourself, but the panic bubbling beneath your surface is relentless. The thought of upsetting the baby crosses your mind, but it doesn’t help to calm you.

Jungkook stands as well, hands raising as if he’s about to reassure you, but as he does so, he watches you disappear before his eyes.

“It’s incredible,” he whispers to himself.

Now, he has solid proof that you’re indeed a werewolf, a member of the Shadow pack.

“Yn, listen to me.”

“No, Jungkook,” you cut him off. “I am not a werewolf. That’s ridiculous. If I were one, I would have transformed or something like that.”

“Maybe,” he says quietly. “But you didn’t know you were one so things might work differently in that case.”

“Stop!” you scream. “Just stop. Do you even hear yourself? Do you even realize what you’re saying?”

Jungkook stands there, looking somewhere, but he doesn’t even know where you are.

“Take your phone, yn,” he tells you.

“What?” you say with evident surprise, and your anger turns into confusion.

“Just take your phone,” he repeats, his tone calm but firm.

Still breathing heavily and with shaky hands, you look for your phone in your purse. You’re not sure why he’s saying that or what to expect when you look at your phone.

“Now, pretend like you’ll take a selfie.”

As you look at him, there is something in his expression that compels you to obey. Slowly you lift your phone, positioning it in front of your face. The moment your screen comes into view, your breath catches in your throat. Your reflection is completely gone.

Your mind struggles to understand what is going on. The town square is visible in the background, clear as day, but your face is missing. It’s as though you’ve been erased from existence.  

“What is happening?” you almost scream. “What kind of sorcery is this?”

Your gaze remains glued to the phone, your hand trembling so much that the image blurs. You’re gone. Completely gone. Your hand instinctively goes to your face, touching your skin as though it might bring you back into view. But when you glance at the screen again, even your hand remains invisible. This can’t be true. How can you even disappear? How is that possible?

“It’s not sorcery,” he calmly replies. “It’s you. It’s your nature. Only a werewolf can do that.”

“No! That’s not true. That’s not who I am. I’m human. I’ve always been human,” you shake your head before putting your phone back in your purse. “But I’m carrying your child so that must be it.”

Jungkook shakes his head.

“That’s not how it works, yn. I swear,” he’s trying to look for you, so it makes him look like a crazy man. “Pregnancies only bring out even more any abilities someone has,” he explains. “This pregnancy is simply revealing your true nature.”

Tears stream down your face while your heart hurts.

“Have you been experiencing some weird stuff lately?” he says. “Like heightened hearing or smell or night vision or superhuman strength or even super speed.”

Then, your body freezes once more.

“No,” you answer, and for a moment, you hesitate to reveal the truth. “But I’ve always had heightened hearing and smell, and I perfectly see in the dark.”

This all confirms what he says. You’re a werewolf.  

“I can hear your heartbeat,” you add. “I can hear everybody's heartbeats, even the baby’s.”

You close your eyes, the truth violently hitting you. All this time you’ve been a werewolf, and nobody told you anything. You’re not sure Felix knows it, but it hurts to realize that your parents hid something so big from you. It’s your nature after all. 

“You have your answer, yn,” he responds.

Now, you’re crying because the world is collapsing underneath your feet. Your life has been filled with lies, and you’re only discovering this now. It hurts even more that it’s the father of your child who’s revealing this and not your parents.

Jungkook follows the sound of your tears to come closer. You fall in his arms, holding him as tight as possible. He tries to hold you back in his arms, but he doesn’t see you at all. The only thing that can make you reappear is for you to relax. Your emotions are the keys to your powers.

“Focus on the baby’s heartbeat,” he murmurs in your ear. “Focus only on that.”

While tears keep running down your face, you try to search for your baby’s heartbeat. It’s super faint, but you quickly find it. This little sound has rocked you to sleep so many times, and it’s one of the most comforting sounds you’ve ever heard.

“Tudum, Tudum, Tudum,” Jungkook starts mimicking the sound of the baby’s beat.

You close your eyes to only focus on that sound. Slowly but surely, you reappear which reassures Jungkook, and he holds you tighter in his arms. His warm embrace and the sound of the baby’s heartbeat calm you down. He presses a gentle kiss on your head while his hands start to soothe your back. Seeing you like this is heartbreaking, and he hates the fact that he was the one delivering this news.

For a little while, you both remain like this, and his arms feel like the safest place on earth. Even if you hate this entire situation, his presence reassures you. Everything about this moment right now appeases your soul. There is absolutely no doubt that the reality you now have to face is devastating, but you feel like you’ll have Jungkook by your side. And strangely, it seems like it’s the only thing that you need.

Today was a hell of a day!

Everything was simply awful, and it felt like it was a never-ending day. Your mind was constantly thinking about the words Jungkook said. ‘I think you might be one of us.’ You swear you could hear them on repeat all day long.  

Due to how you’ve been feeling, you’ve left everybody on read—even Jungkook. Dealing with this strange reality is too heavy, and you need space. You need some time to digest the news. You need time to simply breathe.

Once you’re at home, you wrap yourself in your Harry Potter robe, lay on the couch, and play the first Harry Potter movie. Right now, all you need is to find comfort in something, and Harry Potter is your escape.

Although the movie is playing in the background, you’re not really watching it. Your thoughts are totally lost somewhere else, somewhere that includes werewolves. You can’t believe that this is your new reality. It hurts deeply that your parents never said anything to you. How could they keep something so monumental from you? Were they intending to let this part of themselves, this part of you die in silence?

Things would have been completely different if they had informed you about that side of you. Maybe you would have sought answers earlier. Maybe you would have explored what it means to carry this legacy. There is a whole culture, heritage, and part of yourself that you’ve missed out on for thirty years. And what hurts the most is that you hate your parents right now. For years, you’ve been hating your parents’ murderer, and now, the tables have turned.

You hate them for what they withheld, for what they never gave you a chance to understand.

This whole journey of becoming a mom has been a complete nightmare. This hasn’t been going as planned. This has been anything but easy. And now, it leaves you wondering if you should really keep the baby. Maybe, you should simply terminate the pregnancy and leave this all behind. But will this be so simple? Obviously, not.

Terminating the pregnancy won’t change anything. It wouldn’t change the fact that Jungkook came into your life to completely wreck your world. Cutting short the life growing inside you will probably just make you feel guilty for doing it. Jungkook won’t disappear, and neither will your wolf side.

This isn’t fair.

Fairness has never been part of your life. It feels like your life has always been robbed. Everybody has been controlling it, making you feel completely powerless all the time. This pregnancy was about gaining control again, but even like that, it wasn’t. A big part of you wants to keep this baby, and you’re very much inclined to keep them. But you don’t know. Jungkook’s revelation still needs to be processed.

“What am I going to do, baby?” you whisper as your hands naturally caress your stomach.

In the end, this baby isn’t a hybrid one. They’re fully a werewolf. You can understand why Jungkook changed his mind. He didn’t want the child because he believed it was a hybrid, something completely forbidden in his world. But now that it’s not the case, he wants to be part of his child's life, if you keep it.

It makes perfect sense, but the hurt remains. He gets what he wants, doesn’t he? The chance to raise his child. But what about you? What about what you want?

“You’re a wolfy,” you continue saying. “So, your daddy wants you now.”

However, if you keep this child, you’ll have to teach them what it means to be a werewolf. You’ll have to guide and prepare them for a life you know nothing about. You’ll have to learn everything with them; every instinct, every tradition, and every secret. You’ll develop your wolf’s abilities together. This life inside you isn’t just a new life; it’s a symbol of your own transformation. This child represents the end of your human life and the beginning of something different.

Are you ready for that?

You’re not sure. You’re not sure if you want to embark on this new journey. A journey where you figure out who and what you are. A journey where you’ll have to dig into your parents’ past. A journey where you’ll have to face your ghosts. A journey where you might find all the answers you’ve always desired to have.

Jungkook seems to hold the key to all of that. The truth, the answers, and the future. You need him, more than you want to admit. He’s the only werewolf you know, and he might as well be your guide on this.

Even if everything scares you, this is what will help you to figure out what happened to your parents twenty years ago. This is the key to finally getting to truly know them. This hasn’t been going as you planned it, but it has been going the way you need it.  

For now, you’re simply going to enjoy this comforting and reassuring movie before truly facing this new reality of yours. Tonight is your last night as a human, and tomorrow, you’ll start to understand what it means to be a werewolf.

For the millionth time, you check that your apartment is perfectly cleaned and tidied. Jungkook is coming tonight; you’ve invited him over to discuss this werewolf thing. You’re incredibly nervous as you’re very scared of how things could go. Are you going to learn some unpleasant truths about your lineage?

Also, you can’t forget to tell him you have your first ultrasound tomorrow. He’ll probably want to come as he’s expressed his change of mind concerning this child. Your child. Instinctively your hand cradles your stomach.

Before the doorbell echoes in your apartment, you sense Jungkook’s presence behind the door. This thing of sensing him is definitely extremely weird, and you’re not even sure you’ll get used to it. But you guess, it’s part of being a werewolf.

You take a deep breath while opening the door to him. As he comes into view, his beauty takes your breath away. His hair is perfectly pushed back, only a strand of hair falling on his forehead. This time around, he’s dressed in a more formal outfit. Like the first time you met him at the clinic, he’s wearing a suit. Only this time, it’s a dark blue one.

And it fits him so well.

A smile grows on his face when his eyes lay on you. It warms your heart, and you can’t help but smile back at him.  

“Hi, yn,” he says.

“Hi, Jungkook,” you reply. “Come on in,” you take a step back to let him in.

Jungkook steps into your cocoon, his gaze briefly wandering at the entrance. With practiced ease, he shrugs off his long black coat, the movement accentuating the subtle play of his muscles. Your curious eyes can’t help but follow the way his shoulders shift and his arms flex as he removes his coat and slips off his shoes.

A little grin shows up when he realizes you’ve been staring at him. However, you both pretend you didn’t notice what the other was doing. It’s like you’re pretending you don’t feel drawn to each other.

“Would you like to drink or eat something?” you politely ask.

“No, no,” he shakes his head. “I’ve already eaten and drank enough for today,” a little giggle escapes his pretty lips. “I had a long and exhausting meeting this afternoon.”

“Oh,” you simply say. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to eat a bit because I’m quite hungry.”

His eyes inevitably look down at your stomach, the sound of the child’s heartbeat resonating in his ears. It’s such a comforting sound.

“No,” he answers. “Eat as much as you want.”

You drag him to the kitchen so you can eat something while you discuss about the madness that your life has become. You open the cabinets to check what you have, but then, you remember you bought your favorite yogurt two days ago. Without no further hesitation, you move to the fridge, grab it together with a spoon, and start eating it.

While you do that, Jungkook’s eyes are glued on you. His stare carefully follows you as you move through the kitchen. Honestly, he’s glad to be here with you; he finally gets to see you in your comfort zone, and you definitely seem to be glowing in this place.

“Can I ask you what you do for a living?” you ask while bringing the spoon to your mouth.

His eyes follow your hand before looking up. He leans on the cabinets while never looking away from you. Jungkook crosses his arms on his chest and heavily considers what to tell you.

“Well…” he seems hesitant to reveal it. “I’m not sure you’re going to believe me.”

You tilt your head, wondering what it could be. Is he working with the mafia like you thought before he announced his wolfy side? Or is he some kind of criminal? Or is it the opposite, like a doctor?

“Try me,” you tease him.

Jungkook didn’t know up until now how much he needed to hear the teasing tone in your voice.

His eyes never cease to follow your hand’s movements with the spoon. It’s mesmerizing, holding him captive as if he’s unable to look away. The way your lips wrap around the spoon sends shivers down his spine. Jungkook shakes his head, pushing away those weird thoughts. It’s inappropriate.

“I’m a king,” his tone is firm, leaving no room for doubts.

You almost choke with the spoon in your mouth. Of all the jobs you considered, this one definitely wasn’t on the list. This is beyond unexpected and by the way he looks, you know that he isn’t joking. You’ve seen his serious face so many times now, so you know he’s telling the truth.

“A king?” you repeat to make sure you heard it right.

Jungkook nods, and then, you can’t unsee it. This entire outfit breathes power—and money—, his charisma is beyond magnetic, and he has a strong presence. Let’s not forget about the unreadable face he always has on. There is definitely something royal about him, and he definitely looks like a king.

“That makes the child in my belly a future king or queen then?” you ask half-jokingly.

“Yep,” he answers. “And as a king, I’m expected to give the perfect heir, so the hybrid child wasn’t really one.”

When he explained the situation a month ago, everything made sense, but now it makes even more sense. This child carries royal blood.

“I’m not carrying anyone’s kid,” you playfully say. “A king,” you whisper.

This definitely changes your view of the situation. Now that he wants this child, it makes them the heir to the werewolf throne. The baby growing inside you will one day be a king or a queen. It makes you feel important but scared as well.

“It’s crazy,” you look up at him while bringing the spoon to your mouth once more.

Right there and then, your heart skips a beat when you realize the way he’s looking at you, or should you say, the way his eyes are devouring you. You can’t remember the last time someone looked at you in that way.

“It is,” he admits.

“And what does a werewolf king do exactly?” you curiously ask.

“Many things,” he smiles at you. “I’m the supreme leader of the packs which makes me the bridge between them. If any issue arises between them, I have to resolve them and also make sure the werewolves follow the rules. I’m also their protector. I must ensure the laws are respected and nobody reveals our secrets. And do many other things, but those are the most important ones.”

You nod, wondering if these responsibilities aren’t too much of a burden for him. It mustn’t be easy to be the one making decisions, and it definitely sounds like the entire werewolf world relies on him.

“And you?” he asks. “What do you do?”

A bright smile appears on your face. “I’m an Elementary teacher.”

Thinking about the little kids you see every day simply makes you happy. Being able to give those little humans the tools they need to grow in this world is one of the most fulfilling things. This job has been healing your inner child because teaching those young children has allowed you to guide and give them a stability you never had in your childhood.

“Oh, nice,” he says.

The yogurt is now over so you suggest going to the living room. This way, you’ll be sitting comfortably on the couch while discussing the hot topic. Werewolves.

Last night, while in bed, you were mentally going through all the questions you might have for him. There is so much for you to know about this new world, this new heritage. For sure, last night, you didn’t know he was a king, but now that you do, you believe that he might help you a lot more than expected.  

Jungkook sits down next to you, and you decide to face each other.

“So,” you start saying. “I guess you can imagine why I invited you.”

The man sitting next to you nods. “Your wolf blood.”

“Indeed,” you nod as you speak. “I have a lot of questions.”

You don’t even know where to start.

“You said there are packs,” you begin. “Would you know to which pack I belong?”

“Yes,” he answers without hesitation. “The Shadow pack,” he pauses for a couple of seconds. “Each pack has a wolf eye color. Mine is red as you’ve already seen, which indicates that I’m the king and member of The Blood pack. The Shadow’s eye color is blue, and for the third and last pack, The Lunar, it’s white,” he explains. “A week ago, I saw your eyes turning blue, that’s how I discovered it.”

The Shadow, The Blood, and The Lunar. Three packs. You mentally register the information he gives you. There is so much to discover about this new reality.

“The Shadows also have unique abilities, one of them being the fact that they can blur into their surroundings.”

That’s what happened to you two days ago after he revealed your true nature. It was just the confirmation of who you are.

“As far as I can remember, I’ve only had heightened senses, but I never came to shift into a wolf. How is that possible?”

“That is something I ignore,” he admits. “You’re the first werewolf who didn’t grow up with her pack’s member. My first guess is the ignorance of your nature prevented it from fully revealing itself.”

You look down at your feet on the couch. It seems so weird that only a part of your abilities has revealed itself throughout your life.

“I’ve tried to find something about you, but I couldn’t,” he admits. “I even reached out to an Alpha of the pack, but nothing.”

“Oh,” you simply say, your eyes meeting his. “Do you think I could meet that Alpha?”

“Yes,” he smiles at you. “I’m sure he’d be happy to meet you, and he might probably help you more than me with your past and even your abilities.”

Jungkook then proceeds to explain how the werewolf world works. There is a hierarchy. Alpha, Beta, Delta, and Omega. Alpha being the highest rank, and you only achieve it once you fully master your powers. Logically, you’re an Omega as you barely know what you can do. Jungkook is an Alpha which makes sense since he’s a king.

If you keep the baby, they will automatically become an Alpha when they become king or queen. Things work a bit differently for the royal family.

Normally, a werewolf experiences their first shift on the first full moon of their fourteenth anniversary. The difference with the royal family is the fact that they experience that at ten years old. It’s quite early in life, but that allows them to master their abilities a lot earlier than any other werewolf.

Obviously, the parents and the family remain by your side throughout your first full moon. They guide you through the pain when transforming, and they stay with you while you’re a wolf. Jungkook tells you that the first transformation is very hard to handle. The pain is unbearable and once you’re a wolf, all your human senses disappear. You’re just a beast. A hunting beast. Having your family by your side prevents you from killing anyone or anything. Slowly and with a lot of work, you are able to control that primal urge.

The question left hanging is when and if you’ll transform. If this pregnancy brings out your wolf blood, there are higher chances that you’ll experience your first full moon. But Jungkook doesn’t have an answer to give.  

Then, he informs you that you can’t transform someone by biting them, that’s an absolute myth. Being a werewolf is genetic. You inherit it from your parents, and you’ll give that gene to your children. Thus, the importance of maintaining pure blood.    

 “For now, I guess that’s all,” you tell him once you’ve asked all the questions.

“Since the next full moon is in two days, I’d like to be with you in case you transform,” he says.

Well, you don’t have much of a choice. There’s this unknown about you, and you wouldn’t like to be alone during your first full moon, especially if it’s painful and bestial.

“Thanks,” you mumble while looking down.

Jungkook offers you a little smile.

“I’m by your side now, yn,” he places his fingers under your chin to slowly lift your head. “I won’t let you navigate this alone.”

His eyes shine with sincerity. You’re thankful that, in the middle of this chaos, you found Jungkook. This man brings so much comfort and seems to have one of the prettiest hearts you have encountered.

“And I’ll support you no matter what you decide with the baby,” he adds.

You remain in silence for a moment, your eyes scanning his soft face. You’ve never seen him this close. You’ve never noticed that little mole under his lips, or the little scar on his cheek, or how perfectly round his nose is. He looks even prettier this closely.  

The decision about your child has already been made, but you haven’t said it out loud yet. Jungkook will be the first one to know, and it makes sense since he’s the father.

“I’m going to keep the baby,” you reveal.  

The Beginning - Alpha

“Jungkook is tasked by his father – current Alpha of the pack – to deliver you – an innocent omega – to your future husband, who purchased you through illegal omega trading offers and who is known to publicly torture omegas for sport. Problem is, you and he are former childhood best friends with too much tension to work through and Jungkook can’t stand his father’s disgusting business methods.” Genre: Werewolves!AU, childhood best friends to enemies to lovers!AU, Angsty Romance, Smut

The Wedding - Bonded

“You didn’t think that having Jungkook save you from an abusive arranged marriage by marking you would mean that you would have to marry him instead. Yet here you are. Bonded to him for life, with his father threatening to ban you if you fuck it up and with your marriage night one step away. It wouldn’t be that scary if you weren’t aware that his family doesn’t bond with omegas.” Genre: Werewolves!AU, forced marriage!AU, childhood best friends to lovers!AU, marriage night!AU, Angst, Romance, Smut

The Marriage - Scents

Jungkook and Y/N had been together for eight years, their love surviving in the shadows of their glittering careers. As idols, they both understood the risks of being exposed—a secret relationship could end everything they had worked so hard to build. But while their love had once been a safe haven, the years had turned it into a complex web of passion, jealousy, and control.

Their secret was shattered in an instant when a series of photos and old texts were leaked online. Fans speculated endlessly, tabloids spun stories, and both their agencies scrambled to manage the fallout. Jungkook’s name trended worldwide alongside Y/N’s as the world unraveled the details of their hidden romance.

Y/N arrived at the airport after finishing a solo schedule overseas, overwhelmed by the chaos. Reporters swarmed her, shouting questions about the leaked relationship. She tried to keep her head high, hiding the panic bubbling under her calm exterior.

When she spotted Jungkook leaning against a sleek black car outside, her heart skipped a beat. He looked strikingly intimidating with his long black hair tucked behind his ears, his tattoos peeking from under the rolled sleeves of his jacket. His sharp gaze met hers, unreadable and heavy with tension.

The car ride was silent at first, the hum of the engine the only sound between them. But Jungkook’s grip on the steering wheel was tight, his knuckles pale, and Y/N knew the storm was coming.

“So, you seemed pretty cozy with that male idol,” Jungkook said finally, his voice low but biting.

Y/N frowned, exhaustion clear in her tone. “What are you talking about?”

“That picture. You were all smiles with him. Do you think I didn’t notice?” he shot back, his tone sharper now.

She sighed, already tired of the conversation. “Jungkook, it was nothing. Just a photo. You’re making this into something it’s not.”

“Am I?” His jaw clenched, and his eyes remained on the road, but she could feel the weight of his jealousy suffocating the space between them. “It’s always ‘nothing’ with you. Do you have any idea how it looks? People are already doubting me because of those leaks, and now you’re giving them more reason to talk.”

Her patience snapped. “You’re being ridiculous! I’ve done nothing but stay loyal to you for eight years. Why can’t you trust me?”

The argument escalated, their voices rising as years of unresolved issues spilled out. When he pulled over to the side of the road, Y/N pushed the door open and got out, desperate for space. Tears stung her eyes, but she refused to let him see her cry.

Jungkook quickly followed, his hand wrapping firmly around her wrist. “Don’t do this, Y/N,” he said, his voice softer now, almost pleading. “I’m sorry, okay? I just—I can’t stand the thought of losing you. You’re everything to me.”

The raw vulnerability in his voice broke her resolve. She nodded silently, allowing him to guide her back to the car. But as they drove away, she couldn’t shake the heaviness in her chest, the growing realization that this love was becoming something she didn’t recognize.

The months that followed were marked by tension. Jungkook’s enlistment was approaching, and the looming separation only magnified his insecurities. His jealousy, once manageable, became a constant presence. He started questioning her every move, growing frustrated over her plans for a world tour.

“Do you really have to go?” he asked one night, his voice sharp as he leaned against the kitchen counter.

Y/N sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Jungkook, it’s my career. You know how important this tour is to me.”

“Yeah, but it feels like you’re choosing it over us,” he said, his tone bitter.

Her heart ached, but she stood firm. “I’m not choosing it over you. But I can’t put my life on hold just because you’re leaving. I have to keep moving forward.”

His dark eyes burned with frustration, but he said nothing more. Instead, he stormed out, leaving Y/N alone with the sinking feeling that their relationship was spiraling out of control.

On tour, Y/N pushed herself harder than ever, pouring all her energy into her performances. But the grueling schedule took its toll. One night, after an especially demanding show, she felt a sharp pain in her abdomen. Thinking it was just exhaustion, she ignored it—until she collapsed backstage.

When she woke up in the hospital, the doctor’s expression was grave. The words that followed left her reeling: she had suffered a miscarriage. She hadn’t even known she was pregnant.

Jungkook flew to her side the moment he heard, but instead of comforting her, his grief and guilt came out as anger.

“How could you not know?” he demanded, pacing the small hospital room. “Were you even taking care of yourself?”

Tears streamed down Y/N’s face as she snapped, “Do you think I wanted this, Jungkook? I lost our baby! I didn’t even know I was pregnant.”

Her words silenced him, the weight of her pain finally sinking in. But instead of giving her the space she needed to heal, Jungkook became even more overbearing. He called her incessantly, showed up at her tour stops unannounced, and tried to control every aspect of her life. His love, once a source of comfort, now felt like a cage.

Two days before Jungkook’s enlistment, Y/N reached her breaking point. Sitting across from him in their shared apartment, her heart ached as she said the words she had been dreading.

“Jungkook, we need to break up,” she said, her voice trembling but resolute.

His expression darkened immediately, his eyes narrowing. “Break up? You’re joking, right?”

She shook her head, tears welling in her eyes. “This isn’t healthy. We’re hurting each other. I love you, but I can’t do this anymore.”

A chilling silence filled the room before Jungkook leaned forward, his voice low and dangerous. “You think you can just leave me? After everything we’ve been through?”

Y/N’s breath hitched as he pulled out his phone, scrolling through it before showing her something. Photos, videos, and messages—proof of their relationship that could destroy her career if made public.

“If you leave me, I’ll make sure the world knows everything,” he said, his voice calm but laced with menace. “You’ll lose everything, Y/N.”

Her heart shattered as she realized the man she had loved for so long had become someone she no longer recognized. Trapped and broken, she nodded silently, her mind racing with thoughts of escape.

As Jungkook prepared to leave for his enlistment, he held her tightly, whispering promises of forever. But Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling that she had become a prisoner of his love—a love that was as consuming as it was destructive.

The Morning of Jungkook's Enlistment

The bedroom was quiet, save for the soft rustling of fabric as Jungkook carefully packed his things. The sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room. Y/N lay on the bed, her back facing him, eyes shut but very much awake. She had been pretending to sleep, hoping to avoid the inevitable farewell that loomed over them.

Jungkook glanced over his shoulder at her still figure, his dark eyes softening as he took in the sight of her. His long black hair fell messily over his face, and the tension in his features momentarily eased. Leaving her, even temporarily, felt like an impossible task.

Setting his bag down, he approached the bed, his steps quiet but deliberate. He climbed in behind her and gently wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her into his chest. His lips brushed against the nape of her neck as he whispered, “I’ll miss you, bub…”

Y/N’s eyes shot open, her heart racing at the sudden change in his demeanor. His voice, soft and tender, was a stark contrast to the heated arguments and heavy silences that had filled their recent days. She stayed quiet, unsure how to respond, the weight of his words pressing down on her.

Jungkook tightened his hold on her, his lips lingering on her neck. “I’ll visit you sometimes, bub. I’ll make it up to you… I love you and will never leave you.”

The sincerity in his voice was undeniable, but to Y/N, it only made the ache in her chest worse. Those words, spoken with so much devotion, felt like chains, binding her to a love that had long since grown suffocating. She bit her lip, willing herself not to cry.

After what felt like an eternity, Jungkook reluctantly let go and rose from the bed. He grabbed his bag and gave her one last lingering look before heading out the door. Y/N waited until she heard the soft click of the front door closing before the tears spilled over. Her quiet sobs filled the empty room, the loneliness already seeping into her bones.

At the Studio

The morning passed in a haze, but Y/N forced herself to get up and go through her routine. Showering, dressing, and eating breakfast felt mechanical—necessary distractions from the storm in her mind. By the time she arrived at the studio for her meeting with her manager, she was physically present but emotionally drained.

“You’ll receive a two-year break, Y/N-ssi,” her manager announced, his tone firm but kind. “Since you’ve just finished a world tour! That’s company policy, and you know that.”

Y/N stared at him, her brows furrowing in frustration. “But, Manager-nim…!” she began, trying to argue. The thought of being left alone with nothing to do, nowhere to channel her energy, terrified her. She needed a distraction—something, anything, to keep her from spiraling.

Her manager sighed, leaning back in his chair. “Listen, Y/N. You have money, fame, and almost everything anyone could ever want. You need to rest. You’ve earned it.”

His words struck her like a bolt of lightning. She froze, replaying them in her mind. You have everything. Did she really?

For a moment, she thought about her life. The fame, the fans, the success—it was everything she had dreamed of, but it didn’t fill the void that had grown inside her. She nodded slowly, forcing a small smile. “You’re right.”

Her manager’s expression softened. “Good. Take this time to recharge, Y/N. You deserve it.”

A Plan for Escape

After the meeting, Y/N left the studio, her mind racing. She needed an escape—not from her career but from the weight of her relationship with Jungkook. It was too much. She needed freedom, space to breathe, and time to figure out who she was outside of him.

Without hesitation, she pulled out her phone and dialed Jennie.

“Heyyy girl, what’s up?” Jennie’s cheerful voice answered almost immediately.

Y/N smiled for the first time that day. “Hey, I was wondering… when are you free?”

Jennie let out a playful gasp. “Girl, next month. THE WHOLE MONTH! What’s the plan? Girls’ trip? I’m so in!”

Y/N chuckled, her heart feeling a little lighter. “You know me too well. Pack your bags, Jennie. We’re going to Maui.”

Jennie squealed with excitement, and the two spent the afternoon chatting and planning. For the first time in weeks, Y/N felt a sliver of hope—like she could reclaim a piece of herself.

The Call

After finalizing the trip details, Y/N began packing her bags. The thought of sandy beaches and laughter with Jennie made her feel like she could finally breathe again. As she threw clothes into her suitcase, her phone rang.

Smiling, she answered without looking at the screen. “Jen, you’re too hyped for this—”

“Hey, bubby,” a deep, familiar voice interrupted, sending chills down her spine.

Her breath caught in her throat. “Kook,” she said softly, her voice trembling.

“Going somewhere without telling me?” he asked, his tone light but with an edge that made her stomach twist.

She scrambled for a response. “I was about to call you…”

“Hmm,” he hummed, clearly unconvinced. “Who are you going with?”

“Just Jennie,” she said quickly, her voice betraying her nerves.

“Just Jennie,” he repeated, his tone quieter now. After a pause, he added, “Alright. Take care, baby.”

“Mm-hmm,” Y/N hummed in response, her heart pounding as she ended the call.

She sat on the edge of her bed, staring at her phone. Jungkook’s possessiveness had always unnerved her, but the way he seemed to know everything, even when he wasn’t around, made her feel like she could never truly escape.

Still, she resolved to go on the trip. For once, she needed to choose herself—to find a piece of her soul that had been buried under the weight of their love.

At the Airport

Y/N sat by the window in the sleek private lounge of the airport, watching planes take off in the distance. She was two hours early for her flight, a habit she'd formed over the years of traveling as an idol. The private jet she owned sat on the tarmac, gleaming under the early afternoon sun. She rarely used this jet for work, as the company always provided a larger one for her group. This particular jet held memories of trips that Jungkook had meticulously planned for them—a stark reminder of their shared past.

Restless, Y/N adjusted her sunglasses and scrolled through her phone aimlessly until a familiar, high-pitched voice broke her thoughts.

“Y/NNIEEEEEE!!!”

Jennie’s excited screech echoed through the lounge, and Y/N couldn’t help but laugh as her friend ran toward her, arms outstretched.

“Jen, I missed you!” Y/N cried out dramatically, faking tears as they hugged tightly.

“Stop being extra, Y/N. You saw me, what? Two months ago?” Jennie teased, but the warmth in her eyes betrayed how much she’d missed her friend.

They chatted animatedly as they boarded the jet, laughter filling the cabin as the plane ascended into the clouds. The ride was filled with stories, gossip, and the kind of laughter that felt like a balm for Y/N’s bruised heart.

Arriving in Maui

It was nearly midnight when they touched down in Maui. The warm tropical air greeted them as they stepped out of the plane, the scent of the ocean lingering in the breeze. The drive to their beachfront villa was quiet, and Jennie, exhausted from the flight, quickly fell asleep in the seat beside Y/N.

Once they arrived, Y/N carried her bags inside and took a moment to admire the villa. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the ocean, and the sound of waves crashing against the shore was soothing. However, sleep eluded her.

She tiptoed to the bathroom, careful not to wake Jennie. As she splashed water on her face, her phone buzzed on the counter. It was a message from her bank:

"You've received $2,000,000 USD from Jeon Jungkook."

Her heart dropped. She didn’t hesitate to call him, her fingers trembling as she pressed the dial button.

“Bub! Did you get my—” Jungkook’s voice was warm but was quickly cut off by Y/N’s anger.

“What was that?” she demanded, her voice low but seething.

“It’s for your trip, love,” he replied casually. “Why are you mad?”

“After everything that’s happened, do you really think money can fix this, Kook?” Her voice cracked slightly as she tried to keep her composure. “I won’t accept this.”

Before he could respond, she hung up and stormed back to bed, her chest heaving with frustration.

The Trip of Freedom

The next few days were pure bliss. Y/N and Jennie explored the beaches of Maui, the sun kissing their skin as the ocean breeze tangled their hair. Days were filled with snorkeling, yacht rides, and basking under the sun in bikinis. Nights were spent at fancy dinners, sipping cocktails and laughing until their stomachs hurt.

Photos of their trip soon surfaced online. Pictures of Y/N in a black bikini, sipping champagne on a yacht, and Jennie posing on a golden beach quickly went viral. But the two women didn’t care. For Y/N, this was freedom—a rare moment where she felt like herself again.

Returning Home

The trip ended with emotional goodbyes as Y/N hugged Jennie tightly at the airport. By the time she arrived back in Seoul, the sun was setting, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. She was greeted at the door by Bam, her and Jungkook’s dog, who whined excitedly as he jumped into her arms.

“Miss me, buddy?” she cooed, scratching behind his ears.

“Y/nah, welcome home!” a familiar voice called out.

Y/N turned to see Jungkook’s mother, who had been staying at the house while she was away. The older woman smiled warmly, opening her arms for a hug.

“Eommonie,” Y/N greeted, embracing her tightly.

“I cooked dinner for us, Y/nah. Let’s eat before it gets cold,” Jungkook’s mom said gently.

They ate in relative silence, though Y/N couldn’t ignore the curiosity in the older woman’s gaze.

“I heard you and Jungkook fought,” she finally said, breaking the silence. “Is it about what happened?”

Y/N hesitated, her hands fiddling with the hem of her sweater. “Eommonie, it’s just… couple things. You don’t need to worry.”

Jungkook’s mother smiled knowingly but didn’t press further. After dinner, Y/N spent time playing with Bam, feeling a sense of comfort in the dog’s unconditional love.

“You’ll be a great mother to my grandchildren, Y/nah,” Jungkook’s mom said softly, watching them from the couch.

Y/N smiled faintly but said nothing, the weight of her words hanging in the air.

Christmas Eve

Christmas Eve was spent preparing a feast with Jungkook’s mom. The house smelled of roasted chicken, kimchi, and freshly baked cookies as they worked together in the kitchen. Y/N excused herself to change for dinner, slipping into a red Chanel dress that hugged her figure perfectly.

As she stood before the mirror, adjusting her necklace, a pair of strong arms wrapped around her waist from behind. She froze, her breath catching as a familiar voice whispered in her ear.

“I missed you, bub.”

“J-Jungkook? Why are you here?” she stammered, her heart racing.

“It’s Christmas Eve,” he said simply, his lips brushing against the side of her neck.

She stepped away, her heart pounding. “Not now, Kook,” she muttered, slipping out of the room before he could say more.

Downstairs, the dining room was filled with laughter and chatter. The BTS members and their families had all gathered, the men dressed in sharp military suits while Y/N stood out in her festive dress.

Y/N sat next to Jungkook, who kept his hand possessively on her thigh under the table. Across from them were his parents, who were clearly enjoying the lively atmosphere.

“Son, when do you two plan to settle down?” Jungkook’s father asked suddenly, his voice light but curious. “You’ve been together for almost a decade now.”

“Soon, Appa,” Jungkook replied smoothly, his gaze shifting to Y/N with a smile.

The weight of his words felt suffocating, and Y/N excused herself to the bathroom, her heels clicking softly against the floor. Standing in front of the mirror, she stared at her reflection, her vision blurring with tears.

How did they get here? A part of her still loved him deeply, but the other part was desperate for air, for freedom, for herself.

The noise of laughter and chatter from the Christmas gathering became distant as Y/N stepped outside, seeking solace from the whirlwind of emotions inside her. The cool night air kissed her skin, and she leaned against the wooden railing of the backyard deck. The sound of distant holiday music blended with the soft rustling of leaves, but none of it soothed the storm brewing in her chest.

In the backyard, families and friends enjoyed the festive atmosphere, illuminated by string lights that twinkled like stars. Jungkook was standing near a group of his bandmates, but his sharp eyes caught her figure almost instantly. He excused himself, weaving through the crowd to reach her.

“Let’s talk,” he said, his tone soft but firm.

Y/N hesitated, the tension in his voice causing her stomach to churn. Reluctantly, she followed him inside, away from the warmth of the celebration. They entered the privacy of their shared room, the door clicking shut behind them.

Jungkook turned to face her, his expression unreadable, but the intensity in his eyes made her heart race.

“Bub,” he began, his voice quieter now. “What’s wrong? Is something bothering you?”

Y/N bit her lip, her hands trembling slightly at her sides. She had been holding everything in for so long, but it felt like the dam was about to break.

“Yes! Jungkook, something is wrong!” she burst out, her voice shaky but filled with frustration.

His brows furrowed, his posture stiffening.

“Was it about the baby?”

At his words, Y/N felt a sharp pang in her chest. The mention of the baby—the child she didn’t even know she was carrying—brought back a flood of pain and guilt.

“Oh God!” she exclaimed, throwing her hands up in exasperation. She couldn’t believe he was bringing this up again, especially in this moment.

Jungkook’s calm demeanor began to crack, his emotions shifting rapidly. His jaw clenched, and his fists tightened at his sides as anger bubbled beneath the surface.

“I love you,” he said, his voice low and trembling with suppressed emotion. “I satisfy you. I’ve done everything for you. Isn’t that enough?”

Before she could respond, Jungkook grabbed her forearms, his grip firm but not painful—yet it was enough to make her gasp.

“Jungkook, you’re scaring me,” she whispered, her voice trembling as fear seeped into her chest.

He stared at her, his dark eyes searching hers, but the fire in them didn’t diminish.

Jungkook’s grip loosened slightly, but his presence loomed over her, his voice dropping to a chillingly calm tone.

“You don’t get it, do you, Y/N?” he said, leaning closer. “You’re mine. You always have been, and you always will be. I’ve sacrificed too much for us to fall apart now.”

Tears welled up in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall, her chin trembling as she tried to hold her ground. “Jungkook, this isn’t love. This… this is control.”

His eyes darkened further, a humorless laugh escaping his lips. “Control? Bub, if I wanted control, I wouldn’t have let you run off to Maui with Jennie. I wouldn’t have let you stay away from me for weeks. Don’t you see? Everything I do, I do for us.”

Y/N took a shaky step back, but Jungkook closed the distance between them effortlessly.

“You think you can leave me?” he asked, his voice dangerously soft. “You think you can just walk away?”

Her breath hitched, fear gripping her as his words sank in.

“If you ever try to leave me, Y/N,” he continued, his tone dripping with menace, “I’ll make sure everyone knows. Your fans, the media, your family—they’ll all know about the baby. About what really happened. Do you want that?”

Her eyes widened in shock, her hands trembling at her sides. “You wouldn’t…” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“Try me,” Jungkook replied, his gaze unwavering.

The weight of his words crushed her resolve, and she felt her chest tighten with despair. She knew how much damage he could do, not just to her career but to her reputation and the delicate threads of her life.

“Jungkook…” she murmured, tears streaming down her cheeks now. “Why are you doing this?”

He cupped her face with both hands, his touch surprisingly gentle despite the storm of emotions in the room.

“Because I love you,” he said simply, as if that explained everything. “And I can’t lose you.”

Y/N stood frozen, her heart pounding in her chest as his words echoed in her mind. She felt trapped, suffocated by the intensity of his love—if it could even be called that anymore.

Jungkook pressed a soft kiss to her forehead before stepping back, his anger seemingly replaced by a calm façade.

“Get some rest, bub,” he said quietly, brushing a tear off her cheek with his thumb. “I’ll see you downstairs.”

With that, he turned and left the room, leaving Y/N standing there, her legs weak and her heart shattered.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur. Y/N returned to the gathering, plastering a forced smile on her face as she navigated conversations and laughter. But inside, she was crumbling.

Jungkook stayed close to her, his hand resting possessively on her lower back, his demeanor calm and charming as if nothing had happened. But Y/N could feel the tension radiating from him, a silent reminder of the conversation they’d just had.

As the night wore on, Y/N found herself sneaking glances at him, her mind racing with thoughts of how to escape this toxic cycle. But for now, all she could do was play along, her heart heavy with the weight of his love and the chains it came with.

The clock struck twelve, and the sky above exploded in a symphony of firecrackers, casting vibrant hues of red, gold, and blue across the dark canvas of the night. The backyard filled with cheers and laughter as everyone welcomed Christmas day with open arms and bright smiles. Y/N stood amidst the festive chaos, trying her best to blend in. Her lips curled into a faint smile, but her mind was a whirlwind of emotions.

She couldn’t shake the strange feeling that something was brewing—something big. She glanced around the lively crowd, her gaze flitting from one familiar face to another. Where was Jungkook? The nagging unease in her chest grew heavier with each passing moment.

As if on cue, the air shifted. Conversations hushed, and the crowd began to part, forming a wide, open space in the center of the gathering. Confused murmurs spread through the group, and Y/N frowned, looking around.

And then she saw him.

Jungkook emerged from the crowd, his figure illuminated by the soft glow of the fairy lights strung around the backyard. His long hair fell loosely around his face, and he was dressed simply but elegantly—a black turtleneck paired with fitted slacks that accentuated his broad shoulders and confident stride.

Her breath hitched as their eyes met. There was a softness in his gaze, but underneath it lay an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine.

“Jungkook, what are you doing?” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the faint crackle of fireworks in the distance.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he kept walking toward her, his eyes never leaving hers. When he finally reached her, he stopped, his expression unreadable.

And then, to her shock, he dropped to one knee.

Gasps echoed around her, and she felt Jennie grab her arm in excitement, squealing, “Oh my god, Y/N!”

Y/N’s mind went blank as Jungkook pulled out a small velvet box from his pocket, opening it to reveal a dazzling diamond ring that caught the light and sparkled like the fireworks above.

“Marry me,” Jungkook said, his voice steady but laced with raw emotion.

The crowd erupted into a mixture of gasps and cheers, the atmosphere charged with anticipation.

Y/N froze, her heart pounding in her chest as the weight of his words sank in. Time seemed to slow as she stared at him, kneeling before her, his dark eyes filled with vulnerability and something far more intense.

She felt Jennie’s grip tighten on her arm. “Y/N, this is so romantic!” Jennie whispered excitedly, tears of joy glistening in her eyes. “I didn’t even know he was going to do this!”

Jennie’s happiness only made Y/N’s chest ache more. She turned her gaze back to Jungkook, her mind racing. This wasn’t just a proposal—it was a declaration, a claim, and a reminder of everything that bound them together.

“Bub,” Jungkook said softly, his voice breaking through her chaotic thoughts. “You’re my everything. My love, my life, my forever. I can’t imagine a future without you. Please… say yes.”

Her eyes darted around the crowd. Jungkook’s parents stood nearby, their faces glowing with pride and hope. His mother wiped away happy tears while his father clapped Jungkook on the back in approval. Jennie beamed beside her, clutching her hand tightly as if she were sharing in the moment.

But deep down, Y/N felt trapped. She loved Jungkook, she truly did, but their relationship had become a storm she couldn’t escape. The pressure to say yes weighed on her like a ton of bricks, and the eyes of everyone around her only made it worse.

Jungkook’s smile faltered slightly as he searched her face for a response. “Y/N?” he prompted gently, his tone tinged with nervousness.

Her throat tightened as tears welled up in her eyes. She forced a trembling smile, her lips parting to speak. “Yes,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “Yes, Jungkook, I’ll marry you.”

The crowd erupted in cheers, clapping and celebrating the union as if it were a dream come true. Jennie screamed with joy, pulling Y/N into a tight hug.

“Oh my god, you’re engaged!” Jennie cried, her excitement bubbling over. “This is the best Christmas Eve ever! I’m so happy for you!”

Y/N clung to her best friend, blinking back tears that threatened to spill. Jungkook stood, slipping the ring onto her finger with a smile that lit up his face. He pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly as the world around them cheered.

“You’ve made me the happiest man alive,” he murmured into her ear, his voice filled with emotion.

Y/N closed her eyes, resting her head against his chest as the fireworks continued to light up the night sky. She felt his love, his possessiveness, his control.

The crowd saw a fairy tale, but inside, Y/N knew she was standing at the edge of a cliff, unable to turn back.

Y/N couldn’t believe what she had done. The proposal replayed in her mind like a looping nightmare, the cheers, the flashes of cameras, Jennie’s delighted scream—it all felt suffocating. Beneath the surface of her smiles and laughter, her heart was sinking, dragging her deeper into a sea of regret and fear.

She didn’t know how to stop the ache in her chest, so she turned to the one thing that dulled the edges of her spiraling thoughts: alcohol. Glass after glass, she threw back champagne and wine, each sip numbing the storm raging inside her.

Jennie, noticing Y/N’s increasingly reckless behavior, tried to intervene. “Y/N, maybe you should slow down,” she suggested, her voice laced with concern.

“I’m fine!” Y/N insisted, flashing a too-bright smile as she reached for another glass. She needed to drown it all—the doubts, the fear, the guilt of saying yes when every fiber of her being screamed no.

By the time the last guests began to leave, Y/N was stumbling, her words slurred and her laughter loud but hollow.

“Easy there, fiancée,” Jungkook murmured, catching her as she nearly tripped over the edge of the carpet. His tone was playful, but his eyes betrayed his worry.

“I’m fine, Kook,” she mumbled, leaning heavily against him. “Just… hot. So hot.”

“I know, bub. I know,” he said softly, sweeping her into his arms with ease. She giggled faintly, her head lolling against his chest as he carried her upstairs to their room.

The house was quiet now, the remnants of the party scattered across the living room. Jungkook nudged the bedroom door open with his foot, setting Y/N down gently on the bed. She mumbled incoherently, tugging at the fabric of her dress in discomfort.

“Alright, let’s get you more comfortable,” Jungkook said, his voice low and calm. He moved with care, pulling her dress over her head and replacing it with one of her soft nightgowns.

But as he leaned over her to smooth the fabric of her gown, his breath hitched. His gaze fell to her exposed collarbones, the delicate slope of her neck, and the faint hint of her cleavage beneath the thin material. His hands stilled, his jaw clenching as he fought to control the wave of desire that surged within him.

“Damn it,” he muttered under his breath, running a hand through his hair. She was his fiancée now, and the thought only fueled the possessiveness that burned in his chest.

Unable to resist, he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to the curve of her neck. Her skin was warm and smelled faintly of champagne and her floral perfume. Y/N stirred slightly, her lips parting in a soft sigh.

“Kook…” she murmured, her eyes fluttering open briefly before closing again.

He froze for a moment, but when she didn’t resist, he let his lips trail lower, planting gentle kisses down to her collarbones. His hands found her waist, his touch firm but careful as he pulled her closer.

Y/N’s body responded instinctively, a quiet moan escaping her lips as her head tilted back, granting him more access. She was too drunk to think clearly, her mind clouded by the haze of alcohol and the faint warmth of his touch.

Jungkook groaned softly, his self-control slipping as he continued his descent. His lips brushed over the curve of her breasts, his hands wandering as he lost himself in the moment.

Both of them had drunk too much, their inhibitions lowered and their judgments clouded. The tension between them, the highs and lows of their relationship, the proposal—all of it melted away in the heat of the moment.

Jungkook’s touch grew bolder, his kisses more demanding as he explored her body. Y/N’s soft gasps and murmurs only spurred him on, his need for her consuming every rational thought.

She was his—completely, undeniably his. And in that moment, he needed to remind both her and himself of that fact.

___________

I love Yanderes🥹

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

“Are you not going to buy that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She said that reading this will change your life.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Holy shit.

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

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

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

What the fuck was this dream?!

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

You were just dreaming…right?

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

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

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

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

“N-no. Why?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

1…2…3-

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

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

Too bad you were trying to stay alive.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She’s the most important woman in my life.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This was it.

This was the moment.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But here he was, his focus entirely on you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Maybe…I’d go to Paris?”

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

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

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

“We must stop meeting like this.”

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

Who was he exactly?

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

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

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

“What?”

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

“What are you saying, Taehyung?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

I am hiring a team to find you, princess.

His final message was dated today.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Going somewhere?”

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

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

“I-I mean, I didn’t think you’d notice,” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper, already regretting how ridiculous it sounded.

“What? How could I not? You literally disappeared on the face of the earth. You think I wouldn’t notice when you disappeared? When you’re not there?”

The intensity in his gaze left you momentarily stunned, your thoughts scrambling for coherence. “Y-you’re not supposed to be here…” you muttered, more to yourself than to him. Your disbelief bled into your words, your mind struggling to reconcile his presence with what you knew—or thought you knew. “The story says you’re supposed to be with her. This isn’t—this isn’t how it goes.”

“What story?”

You blinked owlishly, realizing what you’d said. “Huh? Nothing!” you exclaimed a little too quickly, waving your hands as if to physically push the moment away. “Anyway! Happy birthday!” you added, your voice unnaturally bright, hoping to distract him.

His squint deepened, a mix of curiosity and frustration flickering in his eyes. He clearly didn’t buy your deflection, but he let it slide—for now. Without a word, he crossed the room to the small bar cart in the corner, casually pouring himself a glass of whisky.

The tension in the air was thick as he swirled the amber liquid in the glass, his movements deliberate. He raised the glass to his lips, his gaze never leaving yours. You could practically see the wheels turning in that intelligent brain of his as he sized you up. After taking a slow sip, he finally spoke, his voice low, “Glad you remember my birthday, princess.”

Okay, fine. You were at loss. How were you supposed to know what you should say? This was not in the manhwa! Yoongi was basically going off-script!

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. Instead, you turned your gaze to the door, silently willing him to leave. But Yoongi didn’t move. If anything, he seemed more determined, his presence as unyielding as ever.

“Fine,” he said after a long moment, his voice quieter now, almost resigned. “If you won’t come back, then I’ll stay. Paris is nice this time of year, isn’t it?”

He stuck by you like a shadow and he all but bought the entire hotel floor. He was adamant on spending every moment with you. The most baffling part? He still kept in touch with her. He called, he texted, he checked in on the female lead—but here he was, right beside you, refusing to leave. It made no sense. To add confusion to the mix, Yoongi kept on shooting dark glares at your phone whenever it chimed from Taehyung’s messages and he felt himself getting irritated. He wondered who was brave enough to message you when no one used to before except him.

You had been away for him for just a short time and yet, he felt like you were so far away already, like something shifted, like your entirety changed. It was like you were not the best friend he used to have.

You looked down at your phone as soon as it chimed again and you couldn’t help but chuckled at the silly selfie he took with a duck. You were too engrossed in your phone that you missed the way Yoongi gripped his utensils. You and him hadn’t spent time together since you were so busy evading him and now that he finally caught up with you, your attention was somewhere else.

Why were your attention not on him?

Who was stealing your attention away from him?!

Was this how you punished him because of his current fling?

The sound of Yoongi’s sharp exhale pierced the air, and you glanced up just in time to see his fingers grip the edge of his glass with more force than was necessary. His jaw was tight, his eyes narrowed—not at the phone in your hand, but at you. He didn’t say anything, but the silence between you both was thick with something unspoken, a tension you had been drowning in since he followed you here.

It wasn’t that you wanted to ignore him, but the truth was... you didn’t know how to deal with this version of Yoongi. The one who wasn’t following the script. The one who was here in Paris, beside you, watching you laugh at Taehyung's ridiculous duck selfie like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“What’s so funny?” Yoongi’s voice was quiet, but it was sharp. He didn’t bother to look at your phone. Instead, his gaze stayed locked on your face, his eyes a shade darker, deeper than you remembered them being.

You blinked, momentarily stunned by the sudden shift in his mood. “Oh, nothing, just a ridiculous selfie from my friend,” you said, still chuckling to yourself. “He’s with a duck.”

“He?” His voice held a dry amusement, but there was an edge to it that made you uncomfortable.

You could feel the subtle tension thickening in the air, like the weight of a storm about to break. Yoongi's question hung between you like a spark in dry tinder. You shrugged, pretending to be casual, though the hairs on the back of your neck stood on end. "Yes, he. My friend Taehyung," you said, not looking up from your phone.

But you could feel Yoongi’s eyes boring into you, every syllable of his next words like a tightening coil. “Taehyung,” he repeated, his voice cold and deliberate, as though testing the name on his tongue. His grip on his glass had tightened to the point where his knuckles were white, but it didn’t stop the slow, calculated sip he took, his gaze never leaving you.

The way he said his name made it seemed like your friendship with him was a mistake, a simple blunder on your end that shouldn’t have happened. It did feel like you stepped on a live mine, and you wondered why you were feeling like this when from what you knew about his character in the manhwa, Yoongi was a pure person. However, right now he felt like a dangerous one.

What were you supposed to do?

“You’re thirty now,” you said instead, steering the conversation away from an unfamiliar territory as you placed the phone facedown. The two of you were having brunch in a famous restaurant and you were thoroughly enjoying the croissant moments before the conversation turned sour.

He regarded you for a moment, fully aware of how you this was your sad attempt at changing the subject until he decided to put you out of misery. He nodded, waiting for you to make your point.

“You’re not getting any younger-”

He raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. “What’s the point of this conversation, princess? You’re starting to sound like my grandma." He paused, as if savoring the thought. "By the way, she keeps asking for you. Says, and I quote, ‘her favorite grandchild never comes to visit anymore.’ Not even a phone call. Meanwhile, I’m still here, the actual grandchild, and I get nothing."

His glare was sharp, but there was no real venom behind it—just the familiar teasing edge that made you both roll your eyes and laugh, despite yourself.

“W-well! I’m just concerned that you won’t have a wife and any children of your own and that you’d grow old alone! I’m just a friend expressing concern over her best and oldest friend…” you rationalized. Fine, you were having fun teasing him while nudging him in the right direction. Yoongi was fun to mess with, you thought, if he was being himself and not the confusing and quite off-putting mood he was in a while ago.

You thought that he would react the way you anticipated him to, that he would get defensive and after which, hopefully, that he’d go back to their love story.

He did none of those things.

Instead, Yoongi leaned in, his manly scent permeating. He tucked a stray strand of your hair behind your ear, all while looking at you. “Why are you saying that I’ll be alone when I have you?”

You blinked, trying to process what Yoongi had just said. His voice, low and warm, carried a weight that wasn’t there a moment ago. You wanted to laugh, to brush it off like the teasing banter you two always shared, but the way his dark eyes held yours made it impossible. “I have you for always, right, princess? You’re not going to leave me for someone…beneath us, right?”

What?

His words seemed like he was pointing to another thing, like what he was asking you was a promise to be set in stone and not a mere assurance on his part. What was the real second female lead to say in situation like this?

“O-of course! We’re best friends! N-now let’s get out of here. I saw this beautiful necklace in that shop. It’s going to look beautiful on her. Maybe if you buy her that, then she’d forgive you for spending your birthday away from her,” you joked to deflect him, standing up and gathering your purse to escape the situation you found yourself in before he could even blink.

Think, Y/N. Think.

You gripped the stem of your wine glass, staring blankly at the flickering candle in the center of the table. The plot was veering off course, drifting further from the original narrative you knew by heart. Yoongi wasn’t supposed to be here with you, his steady presence upending the delicate balance of the story.

The main lead wasn’t supposed to stay by your side like this

Across the room, Yoongi was speaking with one of his father’s acquaintances, his posture relaxed but exuding the quiet authority that came so naturally to him. It gave you a few precious moments to breathe—and to think.

Ever since Paris, Yoongi almost never let you out of his sight. He would spend every free time of his with you. You couldn’t even refuse because he would get so suspicious. His best friend never said no to him, he knew that. Your previous actions of distancing yourself from him resulted in him latching on to you. What could you do to push him in the right direction which was to be with her?

What was the next canon event?

And then it hit you.

The company gala. The turning point. That was when he would bring her, the female lead, into the lion’s den. His family’s icy disapproval, their sharp-edged words of disdain, and their outright rejection of his choice would culminate in a dramatic declaration. Yoongi would stand by her side, rebel against his family, and announce that she was the one he wanted to marry.

It was a pivotal scene. A non-negotiable in the grand arc of his story.

You exhaled shakily. If you could just steer him toward that event, everything will fall back into place. You just needed to figure out when it was happening now that the timeline was unraveling in ways you couldn’t predict.

You just had another problem, though. The man that was now walking back to you was acting like someone who had his heart set on another, so unlike the Min Yoongi from the manhwa who only had eyes for her. His attention was unwavering, but it should not have been pointed to you but to her. The way his gaze softened whenever he looked at you, his refusal to leave your side—it was all wrong. None of it fit.

“Sorry about that,” Yoongi’s voice broke through your thoughts as he returned to the table. He slid back into his seat, his sharp eyes scanning your face. “You okay? You look… distracted.”

You forced a smile, waving a hand dismissively. “I’m fine. Just lost in thought.”

“About what?” He tilted his head, genuinely curious, and the warmth in his gaze made your stomach twist. He did hope that your attention was not being diverted by someone he didn’t even want to mention. He couldn’t even understand why the thought of you with someone else didn’t sit right with him. He couldn’t understand why he had this urge to remove the pest away from you.

“Doesn’t you company have an annual gala? I was thinking of what to wear. When is it again?” you asked, taking a sip of your drink to hide your nerves.

He was looking at you as though deep in thought, as though you were forgetting something. He tilted his head to the side, “You know it’s always in December. You always choose your dress a year in advance, princess,” Yoongi said, his voice laced with mild curiosity. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as he studied you. “Why? You’ve never been one to care much about those kinds of things before.”

Your breath caught at his words. You always choose your dress a year in advance, princess. The familiarity, the ease with which he said it, threw you off. That line—it didn’t belong here. Not in this timeline. Not in this version of the story where your role was supposed to be temporary, a placeholder in the grand narrative between him and her.

“Right,” you said, forcing a light laugh that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Guess I forgot for a moment. Been busy, you know.”

Yoongi didn’t buy it. His gaze sharpened, a hint of amusement mingled with curiosity. “You? Forget? That’s not like you.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, his posture relaxed but his eyes piercing. “What’s really going on?”

The intensity in his gaze made your stomach twist again. Stay calm. Don’t let him see.

“Nothing’s going on,” you said, a touch too quickly. You took another sip of your drink, using the motion to avoid his eyes.

“Anyway, December’s coming up fast, and I’m guessing you’re planning to bring her, right?” You kept your tone light, as if the question didn’t weigh heavily on your chest.

Yoongi’s expression shifted, the smirk fading as his brows furrowed slightly. “Her?”

You swallowed hard. “You know… the one you’ve been calling and texting all the time.” You gestured vaguely, hoping to seem indifferent. “The woman you’ve been—well, I thought you were planning to introduce her to your family at the gala.”

Yoongi smiled again, but this time, it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Let’s see, princess.”

“Admit that you had fun,” Taehyung teased you as he drove you home.

You couldn’t help the smile that crept across your lips. Against all odds, you’d genuinely enjoyed yourself. You did have fun. You always thought that movie dates were boring and full of cliché, but not with him. With Taehyung, everything felt effortless—light and uncomplicated, like breathing.

“Fine,” you conceded with mock reluctance, your tone carrying the weight of faux irritation. “It was a fun…”

“Date,” he finished smoothly, his eyes glinting with amusement as your voice trailed off.

Your cheeks burned at his audacity, the straightforwardness of the word stealing your ability to respond for a moment. A "date"? Could you even call it that? The way your heart fluttered betrayed any argument you might have tried to form.

You glanced away, fidgeting with the strap of your bag as thoughts tangled in your mind. Was it okay to feel this way? To bask in fleeting moments of happiness when the life you were living wasn’t truly yours? When you were still determined to set things right, to restore the balance of a narrative that had gone astray?

So caught up in your musings, you barely noticed the car slowing to a stop in the estate’s driveway. The towering grand doors loomed ahead, a stark reminder of the world you’d return to the moment you stepped out.

“Thank you,” Taehyung’s voice pulled you from your thoughts. It was quiet, genuine, and when you turned to look at him, his face was softer than you’d ever seen it.

“For what?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“For being here,” he replied simply, his gaze holding yours.

The weight of his sincerity pressed against your chest, making it harder to breathe. Before you could respond, he leaned in, closing the distance between you. The world seemed to slow as his hand moved to cup your face, his fingers brushing against your skin with a tenderness that made your heart stutter.

Your breaths mingled, your eyes fluttering shut as his lips hovered so close to yours it was almost unbearable. You could feel the moment hanging on a fragile thread, teetering on the edge of something irreversible.

The room’s golden hues seemed to dim as the sound of the car horn echoed through the driveway, shattering the fragile intimacy between you and Taehyung. You jolted back, your heart pounding in your chest as if caught in an act of betrayal—though you hadn’t technically done anything wrong. Yet.

Taehyung sighed, his expression softening as he glanced toward the car behind him. “Looks like your knight in shining armor doesn’t know how to wait,” he said lightly, though there was a hint of tension in his voice.

You managed a shaky laugh, your hand gripping the strap of your bag tightly. “He’s just… overprotective.”

“Right,” Taehyung said, leaning back in his seat. His eyes met yours, warm and understanding, but with a flicker of something else—something that made your chest tighten. “Still, I meant what I said. Thanks for tonight.”

Before you could respond, the honk came again, sharper this time, as if Yoongi were making a point. You turned to glance at his car, the sleek black exterior glinting under the estate’s lights. Even from this distance, you could feel his piercing gaze locked on you.

“Goodnight, Taehyung,” you said hurriedly, fumbling with the door handle.

Taehyung smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes this time. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

You stepped out of the car and started toward the grand door, the cold evening air biting at your skin. Yoongi’s car door slammed shut behind you, and the sound of his footsteps was a quiet storm approaching. You didn’t dare look back, your heart a riot of guilt, frustration, and confusion.

“Princess,” Yoongi’s voice cut through the quiet, smooth and controlled, but laced with an edge you couldn’t ignore.

You stopped in your tracks, turning slowly to face him. He was already close, his dark eyes scanning your face like a puzzle he couldn’t quite solve. His suit was immaculate, as always, but there was an undercurrent of tension in his posture—shoulders just a little too stiff, jaw a little too tight.

“You’re back late,” he said, his tone deceptively casual.

“I went to see a movie with Taehyung,” you replied, keeping your voice neutral.

At the mention of Taehyung, Yoongi’s gaze flicked past you to the car that was now idling at the end of the driveway. You followed his line of sight and felt a pang of unease as his expression shifted. His brows raised slightly as he studied Taehyung through the window, his head tilting just enough to convey an air of quiet disdain.

And then he smirked—a slow, deliberate curl of his lips that sent an unfamiliar shiver down your spine. It wasn’t the Yoongi you were used to seeing. In that moment, he was something else entirely: sharp, commanding, almost cruel. The kind of presence that demanded submission without a word.

“What did you say his last name was, princess?” he asked, still watching Taehyung with that same unsettling smirk. His tone was light, but there was something in it—something dark—that made your heart beat faster.

“Kim?” you replied thoughtlessly, your mind too preoccupied with wanting to escape the tension. “Why did you ask?”

Finally, he turned his attention back to you, his gaze softening just enough to make the moment feel surreal. The shift was so subtle, so practiced, that it left you second-guessing the sharpness you’d just seen. He reached out, his arm sliding around your shoulders with an ease that felt both natural and calculated.

“No reason, princess,” he said smoothly, steering you toward the grand doors of the estate. “Just… curious.”

The warmth of his arm contrasted sharply with the coldness that lingered in the air. It was disarming, the way he could shift so easily between roles—between the man you knew and the one you weren’t sure you ever wanted to meet again.

As he guided you inside, you cast one last glance over your shoulder. Taehyung’s car hadn’t moved, the figure inside still watching. You couldn’t see his face, but you imagined the tension mirrored your own.

When the doors shut behind you, the weight of Yoongi’s presence beside you grew heavier. His hand rested lightly against your shoulder, his touch far gentler than the unease simmering just beneath the surface.

"Don’t you have better things to do than come to my dress fitting? Like, I don’t know, actually run your empire or something?" you asked, stepping out of the fitting room with a huff.

Yoongi sat sprawled on the plush sofa, one arm draped lazily along the backrest, a glass of champagne balanced effortlessly in his other hand. He looked utterly at ease, as if this boutique was his second home and not a place he had followed you to.

He shrugged, “Well, we can’t have you running away from me again, can we?”

“For the last time, I didn’t run away! I was in Paris because croissant sounded nice that day-”

“Sure, princess,” he agreed condescendingly. Yoongi’s gaze swept over you, lingering a moment longer than you expected. “On the other hand, you look immaculate in that dress,” he said, his voice low and smooth. “You’re going to make the rest of the gala feel underdressed.”

Heat crept up your neck at his words, but you quickly masked it with a scoff. “Flattery doesn’t suit you, Yoongi. Save it for the boardroom or—better yet—for her.”

He raised an eyebrow, swirling the champagne in his glass as if you hadn’t just tried to divert the conversation. “Her?” he echoed, tilting his head with mock curiosity.

You rolled your eyes, refusing to meet his gaze. “Yes, her. The one you met in the previous ball? The waitress? The one you’ll be introducing to your family at the gala, remember? Does she ring a bell?”

“We’re still talking about that?” Yoongi asked, his tone laced with amusement as he leaned back into the plush sofa. The glass of champagne in his hand tilted slightly, catching the light as he swirled the golden liquid. “Why are you so invested in my relationship with her?”

“I’m just concerned and curious as a friend.”

He chuckled softly, setting his glass down on the table beside him. “Curious, huh? And here I thought you were just jealous.”

Your eyes widened in disbelief. “Jealous?”

Yoongi leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees, his gaze never leaving yours. “You keep bringing her up. You’re obsessed with the idea of me introducing her to my family, of me texting her. You sure this isn’t just about you not wanting to share me?”

Your face burned, and you turned away, pretending to adjust the dress in the mirror. “You’re ridiculous and I refuse to discuss this further,” you muttered. “I’m going to buy this!” You announced before stalking back to the fitting room to avoid wondering about why your heart was skipping a beat and why you shouldn’t venture into that.

You were huffing as you tried to reach for the zipper behind you when the curtain suddenly opened and Yoongi stepped in, making the room felt impossibly small. You instinctively turned your back to him, clutching at the unzipped dress as though a protection against whatever this was.

“What are you doing here?!”

Yoongi leaned casually against the side of the fitting room, his smirk firmly in place. “Helping you, obviously,” he said as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“I don’t need your help!” you snapped, tugging at the zipper yourself but struggling to reach it.

“Doesn’t look like it,” he said smoothly, taking a step closer. His fingers brushed against yours as he gently moved your hand away. “Relax, princess. I’ll take care of it.”

You froze, your heart pounding as his hands moved to the zipper. His touch was surprisingly delicate, his fingers grazing your back as he carefully pulled the zipper up. The sound of the zipper seemed deafening in the silence.

“There,” he said softly, his voice low and close to your ear. “All done.”

You were about to turn around when he stopped you. You met his dark eyes through the mirror, and the intensity in his gaze held you captive. His hands lingered lightly on your shoulders, warm against the smooth fabric of the dress. There was something unreadable in his expression—a mix of curiosity, amusement, and something far deeper that you couldn’t quite name.

“You’re very beautiful, princess. Do you know that?” he whispered, resting his chin on your delicate shoulder.

“Yoongi, what are you doing?”

He was quiet for a moment as though in contemplation whether to say what he wanted to say. Like in the manhwa, Yoongi was calculating. He never did anything without a reason, one of which would benefit him. “I had a nightmare the night after the ball,” he finally confessed, his voice low and almost distant, as if recalling something that lingered in his mind. “We were on the yacht. I think it was a party. You were there… She was there. I was there. And the yacht… it slammed into a rock. The two of you were thrown off.”

If he felt your body went rigid, he didn’t mention. He never broke eye contact, his arms around your waist as he told you of his dream. The one exactly what happened in the manhwa– the one where the main lead chose to save the main female lead first, only to find out the it was already late for the second female lead.

His body was so close that you could feel the slight tremble in his arms as he spoke, his fingers grazing your waist with the same careful intensity.

You met his gaze in the mirror again, and something twisted in your stomach. There was an almost predatory look in his eyes, but there was something else too—something far more vulnerable, raw. He didn’t break eye contact, and his grip on you tightened just slightly, as though he wanted to hold on, as though he was afraid you’d slip away.

“In my dream,” he continued, his voice barely a whisper, “I saw you die because I saved her first. It felt so real, like I was remembering something that already happened.” He paused, and you felt the weight of his words sink in. “Why would I save her first when I know I can’t lose you?”

 “It’s just a dream…” you tried to console him. How could he remember something that happened in the ending? Was the barrier between the characters and the plot weakening? What was changing? And how could you go back to your own world when he was holding onto you so tight as though if he looked away, you’d disappear?

“It is, right? It’s not going to happen... I’ll make sure of it.”

December came.

It was the month you were both dreading and anticipating. You were almost at the end of the story, and so far, you did your absolute best to let their love story unfold without a second female lead antagonizing it. You did your part by staying away from them. One problem though, the male lead was not acting like he was written in the manhwa. He was not acting like a man in love should be to her. Instead, he was out there sticking to you like

It was safe to say that Min Yoongi went rouge.

You did not know what to expect in the annual gala. You no longer have the upper hand. You were in the blind as though you were a real character and no longer a reader. You feared that the longer you stayed in this fictional world, the more likely that you’d be incorporated in the story and no longer as a second female lead that could just easily disappear.

You needed answers on how to escape from this fictional world. Answers eluded you. Worse still, so did the only person who seemed to see you for who you were. Taehyung. Since that night, not once did Taehyung answer you calls nor respond to your numerous messages. You tried asking your trusted staff about him, but even they were mummed. It was only your closest maid who whispered to you what transpired and how Taehyung’s budding business empire had crumbled overnight, crushed under the weight of lawsuits—tax evasion, fraud, and other accusations you couldn’t fathom. The news left you hollow. You hadn’t seen this coming. The man who had been your one source of normalcy, the one who made you feel like a real person instead of a pawn in someone else’s story, had disappeared into the shadows of scandal. You thought to yourself that maybe you really didn’t know him at all and that it was best to just focus on how to once and for all, leave this universe.

But who could you ask?

You continued anxiously tapping your heels on the marbled flooring, observing the guests. You were in the corner, trying to hide in the shadows so you could freely look for her. He would be bringing her, right?

Where is she?

Your eyes scanned the room again, trying to keep your presence hidden in the shadows. The guests were mingling, lost in the glitter of conversation and champagne. Laughter bubbled up in the air, but none of it felt real. Not like it should have. None of this was real, in fact. This was a fictional world where you were stuck in.

You wondered what would happen if you stopped playing her role. But before you could dwell on that thought, the door opened again, and you stiffened. You were expecting to see the main female lead, yet instead, it was Yoongi. The man of the hour. He entered the room and all the guests he passed greeted and congratulated him for setting another record in his empire, yet his eyes always returned to you. Where was she? This was not supposed to be like this. Yet, you knew in the back of your mind that something integral changed. You were in denial about how you no longer had control over this, that you might as well be truly in the story now, no longer an observer, no longer able to hide behind the pages of the manhwa.

You stepped back involuntarily, no longer feeling the courage you had faked for so long. You lost control. You had to find a way out. However, when you slipped away and turned the corner, you bumped into an old, yet dignified woman. You bowed in apologies when it dawned upon you.

You have seen her before.

Slowly, your eyes lifted to hers. You knew her. She was the woman who gave you the manhwa… How was she in this world?!

Your mouth hanged agape as the corner of her lips lifted, her eyes crinkling when she saw the dawn of recognition on her face. “I told you reading it will change your mind.”

“It’s you,” you whispered, taking an unsteady step back. Your eyes darted over her, as if trying to piece together a puzzle that didn’t belong in this world. “H-how… How are you here? What’s going on? Y-you have to help me. Why am I here? How can I leave?!”

She studied you for a moment, her gaze steady, unreadable. “You’re here because someone wants you here, dear.”

“I don’t want to be here! I want to go back.”

Her head tilted slightly, her calm demeanor unwavering. “But why? What do you have in your old life that you so desperately want to return to? Aren’t you alone there? Didn’t you have no one to love you?”

“That’s not the point!” you shot back, a tremor running through your voice. “And it’s not different here. No one loves me—no one even knows the real me.”

Her smile deepened, a glint of something—mischief, perhaps?—in her eyes. “Ah, but who do you think was desperate enough, filled with enough sorrow, to pull you into this universe?”

Your breath caught, confusion clouding your mind. “I… I don’t understand.”

“When she died,” the woman began, her voice lowering, as if unveiling a truth long buried, “the manhwa ended. But did you think the characters would simply cease to exist? No, dear. They continued, burdened by the pain of their story. Yoongi was devastated. He regretted everything—every word, every choice, every moment that led to her death. He mourned her. His sorrow was so great, it transcended the story’s limits and reached you.”

Your head spun. “Me?” you repeated weakly, disbelief dripping from your voice.

“Dear, you are her. Just in a different universe. It’s the reason why you sided with her, why you felt for her, why her character called on you, why her pain felt like your own. You are her.”

“I don’t want to be her,” you said, the words tumbling out in a rush. “I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t choose this. Please—just send me back to my own universe.”

The woman sighed, her expression softening, though her eyes retained their strange, knowing glimmer. “The only way out,” she said slowly, “is through. The manhwa will only release you when its story ends. And you know how it ends, don’t you?”

A cold realization began to settle in your chest. “When he marries the female lead,” you murmured, dread weaving through every syllable. Your words hung in the air, heavy and final.

The sharp sound of footsteps echoed down the corridor, breaking your trance. You barely had time to gather your thoughts before a familiar voice cut through the suffocating stillness.

“There you are. I’ve been looking for you. What are you doing here?”

Yoongi’s low, commanding tone sent a jolt through you, but it was his grip—firm but not harsh—as his hand closed around your arm that made your breath hitch.

You turned to face him, his dark eyes locking onto yours. They were intense, holding a darkness that made your stomach churn. Something simmered beneath his composed exterior, something unsettling.

“How long have you been standing there?” you asked, your voice unsteady.

His lips quirked into a small, unreadable smile. “I just arrived, princess,” he said, the pet name rolling off his tongue like silk. “What are you doing here? Alone?”

“I…” You hesitated, your mind racing for an excuse. “I was just talking to—”

When you turned back, the old woman was gone.

Your heart sank, panic surging through you. The corridor where she had stood moments ago was now empty, as though she had vanished into thin air.

Yoongi frowned, his grip on your arm tightening slightly. “Talking to who?” he pressed, his voice dropping.

You forced yourself to meet his gaze, but the weight of it was crushing. “No one,” you said quickly, your voice barely above a whisper. “She must’ve left before you got here.”

Yoongi looked down at you, his expression calm, his gaze steady. Yet, something about the way he held himself—the deliberate gentleness, the faint curve of his lips—made unease coil tightly in your chest. A part of you whispered that this tenderness was a mask, that he wasn’t as naïve or benign as he seemed.

But then he smiled.

It was a tender smile, soft around the edges, and for a fleeting moment, your doubts dissolved like mist under the morning sun.

“Let’s get back to the party, princess,” he said, his voice a soothing balm against the tension humming in your veins. “Your parents arrived.”

Your steps faltered. “My parents?”

The mention of them sent a jolt through you. They were a peripheral presence in the story, barely more than a footnote in the manhwa’s narrative. They were always overseas, managing their company, distant figures who left their daughter to fend for herself. Their absence was a plot device, a catalyst for your dependence on Yoongi.

But now, they were here.

“W-why are they here?” you asked, your voice trembling despite your effort to steady it.

Yoongi stopped walking, turning to face you fully. His expression didn’t change, but there was something unsettling in the way his eyes softened, like he was trying to calm a skittish animal. “Don’t worry about it,” he said, his tone quiet yet resolute.

The words only made your pulse quicken. He offered his arm to you, his demeanor so effortless, so composed, as though he hadn’t just upended everything you thought you knew about the storyline. “Shall we?”

Were you imagining things, or were the guests’ gazes lingering just a little too long as you and Yoongi re-entered the ballroom? Conversations paused, eyes flickering in your direction, a murmur of whispers spreading like ripples across the sea of elegantly dressed attendees.

Yoongi, as always, was composed. His hand rested lightly on the small of your back, guiding you through the crowd with an ease that belied the tension curling in your chest. You tried to focus on the glittering chandeliers, the music, the familiar opulence of the space, but the weight of the stares made it impossible.

“There’s our little girl!”

The warm, dignified voice cut through the hum of the crowd, pulling your attention to its source. Your mother stood near the edge of the room, resplendent in a gown that rivaled the grandeur of the occasion. Her face lit up with delight as she strode toward you, arms outstretched.

“Y-you’re here…” you stammered, shock rendering you momentarily immobile as she pulled you into an embrace. Her movements were graceful yet firm, as though she’d been waiting for this moment.

“Of course, we’re here,” she said, stepping back to study your face, her smile warm but tinged with something calculating. “Why wouldn’t we be? It’s not every day that our dear daughter gets engaged.”

Your heart raced, panic rising as you tried to process what was happening. “I… I don’t understand,” you managed, your voice trembling as you looked between your parents and Yoongi.

Yoongi stepped closer, the warmth of his hand on your back turning into a subtle yet firm pressure. His voice dropped to a low murmur, meant only for your ears, as his sharp eyes held yours in an unrelenting gaze.

“It’s all been arranged, princess,” he said softly, his words almost tender but laced with steel. “Your parents and mine have been discussing this for some time. They thought tonight was the perfect opportunity to make it official.”

Your heart pounded in protest, the world around you narrowing to just him and the enormity of what he was saying. “I didn’t agree to this,” you said, your voice trembling but resolute. “This is wrong! You don’t want this, Yoongi. You have her. And I—”

“You what?” he interrupted sharply, his eyes narrowing. “You have Taehyung?”

“No!” you snapped, shaking your head. “This isn’t about him. This is about them deciding for us. This is about tying your life to mine when you don’t even want to!”

He tilted his head slightly, his smirk returning but without any real humor. “Who says I don’t want to?”

“Yoongi—”

“Look, princess,” he cut you off, his voice soft but commanding. “We just have to act like we’re going along with this. Just pretend. Can you do that for me?”

Your breath caught, and you searched his face for some hint of his true feelings. But all you found was a calm determination that left you more uncertain than ever.

The murmur of the crowd reached you, the polite applause growing louder as you turned toward the center of the room. Yoongi extended his hand, his posture exuding confidence and charm as he guided you toward the raised platform where your parents and his waited.

The spotlight followed the two of you as you ascended albeit reluctantly, every step feeling heavier than the last. The room seemed to hush, the weight of their expectations bearing down on you.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Yoongi began smoothly, raising his glass in a toast. His voice carried easily, commanding the attention of the entire ballroom. “Tonight is a special night, not just for our families, but for me. I’m honored to announce my engagement to this incredible woman beside me, my childhood best friend, the only woman who have never left my side. I cannot live without her, and soon, I’ll never have to.”

The applause erupted, deafening and overwhelming. You felt trapped, the walls closing in as Yoongi turned to you, his smile perfectly composed for the crowd.

“Shall we make it convincing, princess?” Yoongi murmured, his voice low and unreadable, carrying a weight you couldn’t quite place. 

Before you could respond, he cupped your face with a gentleness that felt at odds with the deliberate precision in his movements. His touch was warm, grounding, yet it sent a jolt through you—a mix of dread and something far more dangerous. 

Your breath hitched. 

Never in your wildest dreams did you think Min Yoongi—the composed, untouchable Min Yoongi—would lower his head to capture your lips. Even more unthinkable was the way his kiss shattered every expectation, unraveling something deep within you. 

Yoongi kissed like a man starved. His lips moved against yours with a consuming intensity, a hunger that left no room for hesitation. It wasn’t gentle or tentative; it was deliberate, almost punishing. He took and took, claiming you with every movement of his mouth. His tongue brushed against yours, coaxing and demanding at the same time, leaving you breathless. 

His free hand cradled your face, tilting it to him as if to ensure you couldn’t escape—not that your body seemed capable of responding. Your knees felt weak, your heart thundered in your chest, and the noise of the crowd faded into an inconsequential blur. 

For a moment, there was only him. 

The crowd erupted into applause, the sound jolting you back to reality. The cheers and whistles surrounded you, the noise pressing in like a tidal wave. You blinked, realizing that your hands had gripped the fabric of his jacket, as though anchoring yourself to him. 

Yoongi pulled back slowly, his gaze locking with yours. His eyes were dark, burning with something you couldn’t decipher. His lips curled into a faint, triumphant smile, as if he knew exactly what effect he’d had on you. 

You barely had a moment to catch your breath before he took your hand in his. The velvet box you hadn’t even noticed being opened now sat empty in his other hand. And then, before you could process what was happening, there it was—a massive diamond glinting on your finger, its size almost blinding under the ballroom lights. It was familiar. How could it not when it was the same ring he won in the auction?

Why did he have this now? When was this entire fiasco prepared?

Your chest tightened as you stared at the ring, the weight of it feeling heavier than it should have. 

Yoongi raised your hand, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, his gaze never leaving yours. To the crowd, it was the perfect picture of a devoted fiancé. But to you, it was something far more unnerving. 

“You wear it well,” he murmured, his voice low enough that only you could hear. 

The applause swelled around you again, the sound nearly deafening as you tried to steady your racing thoughts. 

This wasn’t part of the story. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. 

But Yoongi, ever the master of control, seemed to have rewritten the script entirely. And you were left standing in the middle of his narrative, unable to tell where the performance ended and the truth began.

The evening air outside was cool and calm, a sharp contrast to the warmth and chatter of the grand party you had just left behind. As the crowd dwindled and the night settled, Yoongi offered you his arm, escorting you toward his sleek black car. His movements were unhurried, deliberate, and his dark eyes lingered on you for a moment longer than usual.

The night seemed to be endless. You were never left alone even for a moment. You wanted nothing more than to lie down and plan your next step. You had to, or else you were stuck here.

“I’m sorry I missed your speech,” you said as the car pulled away from the glowing mansion. “I’m sure it was great.”

He glanced at you, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “That’s fine. You’ll always be here to hear my next speech anyway.”

You returned his smile, but it was brittle, not quite reaching your eyes. Had your plan succeeded, this would be one of your last moments with him. You’d return to your world, leaving this Yoongi—and this universe—behind. The thought tightened something in your chest, but you pushed it aside.

“I’m sorry about the sudden engagement, princess.” His voice was soft, laced with what sounded like regret, but his eyes told a different story. “My hands were tied. Our families went behind our backs, and I couldn’t do anything about it.”

Lies. All of it.

What you didn’t know was that Yoongi had orchestrated everything. He had whispered into the right ears, pulled strings behind the scenes, and crafted a perfect storm to ensure this engagement would bind you to him. He didn’t care what the truth was, whether or not you were from this world. He cared about one thing only—keeping you by his side.

Something in him had shifted the moment he realized how easily you could slip away. The very idea of losing you—to this world, to Taehyung, to anything—was unbearable. It drove him to actions he never thought himself capable of, cruel and unapologetic. Taehyung was out of the picture now, his budding empire crushed under the weight of scandal. Yoongi had ensured that, and he felt no remorse.

What mattered was you.

You offered him a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes because if what you were planning was successful, you’d return to your own world and he’d be left in this universe. Yoongi quietly offered you a champagne as the driver smoothly drove back to the mansion.

“Are we celebrating something?” you asked, eyeing the sparkling liquid.

“Just…for always, princess,” he said softly, the words carrying an undertone you couldn’t quite place.

You hesitated, but took the glass, sipping the sparkling liquid. The conversation flowed effortlessly, a dance of shared humor, mutual interests, and a surprising depth of understanding. With each exchange, you were reminded of why you had felt drawn to Yoongi in the first place. For all his intensity and mystery, he was undeniably charming, and being with him felt easy in a way you hadn’t expected.

The spirit of alcohol definitely made you forget about the ruckus that happened tonight. If he said that he didn’t have anything to do with it, who were you to question him when he was characterized in the manhwa as someone who was good?

Your conversation with him was fun. It was grounding.

Until the world began to tilt.

Dizziness crept over you, subtle at first but quickly overpowering. Your fingers loosened around the champagne flute as your head grew heavier, and before you knew it, your cheek was pressed against his shoulder.

“Yoongi…” you murmured, your voice weak as you leaned against him.

He steadied you, his hand moving to cradle your head as you slumped against his shoulder. “It’s alright,” he said softly, his voice carrying a note of finality.You tried to sit up, to stay awake, but your body refused to cooperate. Everything blurred together, and then, there was nothing.

Yoongi’s hand moved to steady you, his touch gentle as he adjusted your position so you rested more comfortably against him. He looked down at you, his expression unreadable, before shifting his gaze toward the driver.

“To the airport,” he instructed, his voice calm but firm.

The driver nodded without hesitation, changing course.

Yoongi turned his attention back to you, his jaw tightening as he studied your sleeping face. He’d heard everything earlier—the old woman’s cryptic words, your desperate plea to leave, and your determination to escape this world.

It all made sense. The nightmare that brought terrors in his heart really happened. You died because of his foolishness, because he chose someone else over you when he knew he couldn’t survive a world without you. It had been like living his worst nightmare all over again, the fear of losing someone he wasn’t ready to let go. But this time, he refused to let it happen.

He wasn’t a religious man, but your presence in this universe felt like a miracle—a second chance, no matter how strange or impossible. Whether you were the original her or not didn’t matter. You were here. You were his.

And he wouldn’t let you leave.

His gaze darkened, his grip on your hand tightening slightly.

“You’re not going anywhere, princess,” he murmured softly, more to himself than to you.

The first female lead was no longer his focus. She was gone.

Now, it was you.

And Yoongi would do whatever it took to keep you by his side—even if it meant tying you to him so tightly you could never untangle the threads.

But comfort was fleeting these days. Ever since he appeared in your life.

Kim Taehyung.

His name had become synonymous with both desire and dread in your mind. You couldn’t deny how magnetic he was—the rich baritone of his voice, the piercing gaze that seemed to see straight through you, and the way he carried himself with an air of effortless dominance. He was the kind of man people couldn’t help but admire.

And yet, he terrified you.

It had all started three months ago, at the charity gala you’d attended with your friend Mina. Taehyung was the center of attention, naturally. Everyone wanted a piece of him—the billionaire with a golden touch. But despite the crowd that surrounded him, his eyes had found yours.

And they never left.

---

The first bouquet of roses arrived the next day.

You hadn’t thought much of it then. Sure, it was strange that the card simply read, “To the girl who captured my attention. - T”, but you chalked it up to his charm. People like him probably sent flowers to women all the time.

But then there were more.

Flowers turned into jewelry. Jewelry turned into surprise visits to your workplace. And those visits turned into unshakable unease when you found him waiting outside your apartment building late at night, leaning casually against his sleek black car like he owned the place.

“Taehyung,” you had said, your voice trembling slightly as you clutched your bag. “What are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you,” he replied smoothly, a smile playing on his lips. “I couldn’t sleep knowing you were out so late.”

You’d brushed it off then, told yourself it was just his way of showing concern. But deep down, you knew there was something… off about the way he looked at you. Like you were a possession he already owned.

---

It was hard to say when exactly fear began to creep in. Maybe it was the day you noticed the same black car following you on your way home from work. Or perhaps it was when your coworker, Jisoo, mentioned that she hadn’t seen your friend Mark in weeks—right after you told Taehyung about your plans to grab coffee with him.

You tried to confront him once.

“Taehyung,” you said, crossing your arms as he stood in your living room, completely at ease despite the tension in the air. “I need you to stop. The gifts, the visits… it’s too much. I feel like you’re watching me all the time.”

He tilted his head, studying you with an unreadable expression. “I am watching you, Y/N.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

“Because I care about you,” he continued, his voice soft but firm. “I want to protect you. The world is full of people who don’t have your best interests at heart. You deserve someone who will look out for you, even when you don’t realize you need it.”

His words should have reassured you, but the way he said them made you feel like a bird trapped in a gilded cage.

---

Things only escalated from there.

You started noticing little things out of place in your apartment—a picture frame slightly askew, your favorite mug moved to a different shelf. At first, you thought you were imagining it. But when you found the tiny camera hidden in the corner of your bedroom, you knew the truth.

You confronted him again, this time with shaking hands and tears streaming down your face.

“Why, Taehyung?” you demanded, holding the camera up like it was evidence in a trial. “Why would you do this?”

His expression darkened, the usual warmth in his eyes replaced by something cold and possessive. “Because I need to keep you safe,” he said, stepping closer to you. “Do you have any idea how many people out there want to hurt you? I’m the only one who can protect you, Y/N. No one else cares about you the way I do.”

“I don’t need your protection!” you shouted, backing away from him. But his long strides closed the distance between you in an instant.

“You don’t know what you need,” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous. “But I do.”

His hand cupped your cheek, forcing you to look into his eyes. For a moment, you were paralyzed, caught between fear and the undeniable pull of his intensity.

“You can fight me all you want,” he whispered. “But you’ll never escape me. I’ll make sure of it.”

---

After that night, you tried to leave. You packed a bag and booked a ticket to a city far away, desperate for a fresh start.

But he found you.

The train station was nearly empty when he appeared, his figure illuminated by the dim overhead lights. His usually calm demeanor was gone, replaced by a stormy rage you’d never seen before.

“Running away from me, Y/N?” he said, his voice low and menacing.

You clutched your bag tightly, your heart pounding in your chest. “I need space, Taehyung. This… this isn’t healthy.”

He laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Space? You think you can just walk out of my life? I’ve given you everything, Y/N. My time, my love, my protection. And this is how you repay me?”

Tears streamed down your face as you shook your head. “You’re suffocating me, Taehyung.”

He took a step closer, and then another, until he was mere inches away. “Good,” he said, his voice soft but chilling. “If you can’t breathe without me, then I’ve done my job.”

---

Now, as you sat alone in your apartment, you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was watching. That no matter how hard you tried to distance yourself, he would always find a way back into your life.

Because Kim Taehyung wasn’t just in love with you.

He was obsessed.

And he would do whatever it took to keep you by his side.

Forever.

---

A frightened yell ripped through the large estate, shattering the peaceful, quiet evening like fragile glass thrown against a wall. The blood-curdling scream stopped all the brothers in their mundane tracks for the evening while they all were sitting in the parlor.

Taehyung flicked his paintbrush down on his wooden easel, flecks of green splattering across his canvas, a deep growl of confusion emitting from his throat. Hoseok snapped the book he was reading about hunting large game animals closed, eyes narrowing at the harrowing sound. An awful sour tone rang out, Yoongi’s long fingers slammed on the ivory keys of the piano as he stood abruptly.

A beat of silence ticked, stretching between the princes’, as realization set in.

“Little bird!” Seokjin yelped as he leapt from the news docket and the glass of brandy he was nursing all evening.

They take off into the house like dogs deep in the thick of the hunt. Their legs pushing into the carpet and marble of the home, scrambling for purchase against the ground. Snarls, whimpers, and growls echoed in the mansion as the brothers seemingly moved as one, thundering through their halls. The wolf-boys arms pushing them faster as their nails rake across wooden walls, shredding banisters in their wake. They feel like time is slowing, the clock is the enemy, pushing them back from the only thing they’ve cared about in what feels like ages.

In reality, they move like a flurry of hungry, wild beasts. The wolf brothers fly through their home with quick, superhuman strength. Worry and fright heighten their senses, a kaleidoscope of emotions changing every few milliseconds. 

They needed to get to her. They needed to race her. They yipped and groaned, pushing, clawing their way to her room. Their wolf blood pulsing and flowing with fear scorching through their human forms. 

Nails grew from deep within their human skin. Lips lifted, exposing their gleaming canines and bright pink gums as her room came into view. The prince’s wolf bodies rippled against the soft flesh of their mortal forms. The feral, wild hounds that they really are were threatening to escape as snarls and low growls toppled from their throats. 

Malice, violence, something benevolent they all think as they enter her room unannounced. They wanted to choke, maim, take pleasure in killing something that would hurt her…Make her scream like that.

Seokjin enters first, throwing the wooden doors open. Normally he would knock but he hasn’t a clear thought, wanting to know what or who could have made their little bird react the way she did. 

It’s eerie and quiet inside the guest living quarters. 

The younger princes’ enter next. They pant, shake and sputter, drinking in the smell of sharp terror that hangs heavy in the air of her lavish room. The fire in the hearth is out, moonlight pools through her windows creating a dim glow to cascade across the room…Their mate is passed out in a cold sweat in her bed…

And their youngest brother was in the corner of their room looking utterly ashamed.

A gust of melancholy October wind hit the house, the fallen leaves rustling on the ground and in the trees outside. The windows rattled, the panes shuttered against the cold breeze howling against the walls of the mansion. Silence coated the room, hanging in the still air was the chill of fear from their mate and the scent of shame wafting from Jungkook.

It took the wolf-boys a beat longer until it finally clicked. 

“What is wrong with you, Jungkook?” Seokjin remarks, lips peeling back, white teeth bared at the youngest brother. Rage flashing across his amber eyes. “Revealing your wolf form to her?”

“She was having a bad dream, hyung.” Jungkook sheepishly responded, shaking his head back and forth. “I wanted to be there for her when she woke up.” He bit his lip as he grabbed his cloak, covering his naked form. “She was terrified, hyung. I could smell it through the walls.” 

“Poor thing.” Hoseok cooed as he placed a cool hand across her blazing forehead. His amber eyes roamed over her still face, drinking in every inch of her flushed flesh.  Her hair pooled around her head on her pillow, wrapping herself in a halo of strands and tresses. Hoseok’s nostrils flared as his eyes reached her slightly parted mouth; her split lip she arrived with was almost completely healed. 

How badly did Hoseok wish to press his lips into hers... 

“What if she died on the spot, Jungkook?” Taehyung asked, standing next to Hoseok, watching her attentively. His voice shook with concern, his thick brows furrowed as he studied her like a beautiful painting. “She looks like she has seen a spirit!”

“I-I used my magic on her to make her forget seeing me and go back to sleep.” Jungkook then admitted in a soft, small voice. 

Seokjin gasped softly. 

Another egregious sin they were not supposed to use upon the poor mortal kind. Using their werewolf powers on a regular human was quite shameful. That was something that the creatures beyond the veil would do, nay, not the brothers that rule Bangtan. 

“Magic?” Seokjin snapped and Hoseok yelped at the same time, sharing a look of anger and dismay, respectfully. 

Yoongi heaved a heavy sigh, collapsing into a purple velvet armchair by the hearth of her fireplace. The second eldest licked the edges of his mouth, running his long fingers through his white hair in a defeated manner. “Jungkook, we cannot shift in the mansion. You know how we all feel about this.”

Jungkook couldn’t meet his older brother's amber glare. “I know, hyung. I just—“

Without even looking at him, Taehyung and Yoongi both emitted low, warning growls, their voices deep and huskiest of the brothers. It was quite a scary duo to witness. Jungkook froze, his amber eyes sliding to the ground in obedience.  

Pack order, as well as family dynamic, was something that was established, but changed from time to time. In this room right now, the order was Yoongi, Seokjin, Hoseok, Taehyung, then Jungkook. When all the princes were together, the order was usually eldest to youngest, though that was challenged by Taehyung and Namjoon often. However, Seokjin never failed to be at the top of the pecking order normally due to his birthright. 

“No ‘hyung’ this or that.” Yoongi snarled, head hanging as he rested his elbows on the tops of his thighs, speaking directly to the cold ground beneath his feet. “You shifted…then got scared when she screamed at the sight of your wolf form, so you made her pass back out with your magic!” He got up then, pounded over to the youngest brother and single handedly picked Jungkook up off the floor by his robes. “Why were you in her room in the first place, huh?” The second eldest’s eyes were ablaze, fury seeping out of his pores as he searched the youngest’s own fearful orbs. 

Yoongi had already reprimanded Namjoon today. Tensions were on high alert today because of that. He was so fond of all his kin, he hated being the villain, the bad part about their day. Seokjin and himself very much had to play parent because theirs have since passed. 

“I’m going utterly insane, hyung…” Was all Jungkook could muster before Yoongi let out another deep sigh, his free hand rifling through his white locks. 

“I know.” Yoongi admitted, releasing him gently. Yoongi agreed, solemnly nodding, the fire extinguishing from his words and his sunset colored eyes.  His gaze traveled to the lovely young lady in their guest room who they worshipped the ground she walked on.  His nostrils flared, “We all are, Jungkook…we all are.” 

———-

Soft, featherlight touches upon my cheek roused me from my slumber.  Though I remember fainting, I cannot recall why that occurred. Blinking slowly, I opened my eyes only to see rich amber-coloured orbs peering down at me in the flickering candlelight. Pushing the sheets away, I sat up, rubbing the sleep from my weary eyes. I wasn’t fully awake nor was I registering who was in my room with me in this present moment. The air around me was thick, laced with anticipation and it smelt of fresh linen and morning dew. I stopped moving at once and drank in the human sitting opposite of myself. 

Prince Jungkook.

My mind started to race with questions. Why was he here?  In my room? What time was it? His eyes widened as I stared at him. “Little bird-“

“Prince Jungkook.” I clutch the sheets to cover my chest, my cheeks flushing a bright red hue. Jungkook looked completely sheepish as an innocent gleam flashing across his amber eyes. “W-What are you doing here?” 

“I beg your pardon, my lady.” He sheepishly looked down and away from me. “One of the hunting dogs became loose in the castle, found its way into your room and gave you quite a scare.… I think.”  The youngest prince runs a hand through his curly, richly-colored locks, sliding his palm down to stroke the side of his neck. “I do not wish to frighten you or have you think ill of me, as I know a young lady should never be unattended without a chaperone…”  Jungkook turns the complete opposite direction of me, looking toward the foot of the bed. “It was my turn to put the hounds away and I utterly failed.” Jungkook solemnly looks out the window, his tone grim. “I’m deeply sorry, Y/N.” 

My heart cracks into little pieces.

Prince Jungkook reminds me of my brother Chan at this moment. So sweet and earnest, never truly meaning to harm anyone, a wash of teasing in his tone. He was all but sass and silliness, but he would never bite--lest not bite me.

My stomach lurches at the memory of my brother.  

I lightly touch Jungkook’s shoulder to steady my spiraling thoughts of my family I left not long ago. I lean into the young prince and whisper, “Do not feel ashamed, Prince Jungkook.” He whips his head back around to look at me with his bright, amber eyes. His lips part while his eyes appear glassy in the soft glow from the morning light flickering through the sheer curtains.   

Prince Jungkook opens and closes his mouth several times, reminiscent of a fish gasping for air once plucked from water. His amber eyes flit from my own eyes to my extended hand on his shoulder. Jungkook suddenly clears his throat and gets up off my bed in a fluid movement. He bows deeply and silently exits my room in the blink of an eye. 

And like the breathing out of a candle, he is gone in an instant. 

I look to the end of the bed, a small shudder skates down my spine, a chill of ice flows through my veins, my teeth chatter. That hound from last night was utterly frightening. Its glowing eyes, its huge body, curled up by my feet…I can still feel its eyes upon me, raking over my flesh as if it was cognizant, searching my features as if it was a real person…

“That’s impossible…” I whisper to myself, pulling the covers up over myself, turning to the other side of the plush bed. “A hound cannot possibly be a person!” A chuckle leaves my lips as I nod into my pillow, rationalizing that magic isn’t real and I should probably see a doctor before someone claims I am mad. “What utter nonsense.” 

-

“You' been having bad dreams, Miss?” Sophia asks me, worry clouding her features as she helps me get ready for the day. Lacy, Sophia’s sister, braids the other side of my hair, twisting and folding my locks to look perfect. This is the trend for young girls my age right now--or so they tell me. 

“A few,” I sheepishly admit, shrugging my shoulders. “Can you tell?”

“Jus’ look like you’ seen a ghost, tis’ all.” Lacy worries her brow as she works on the other side of my locks, preparing me for the day. “Tis’ the time of year for goblins and demons and other creatures from the realm below to run amuck on Earth.” 

A small snort leaves my nostrils. “You two don’t believe that,” I say as I study them in the mirror behind me, “...Do you?” They share a look behind me, adding the finishing touches to my hair with their long, hard working hands. My heart sinks into the pit of my empty stomach. I know that sibling look. 

They know something I do not. 

“You’ feel it right, Miss?” Lacy whispers, stepping back, gathering her skirts as she turns and walks out the door. “This time of the year especially.” 

“There are strange things that happen ere’ every day, Miss.” Sophia nods, doing the same as her sister. “But this time of year…” She trails off, looking at the portrait of the prince’s with amber eyes, “is dangerous…even for people they consider family.” She whips around suddenly, throwing me a cautious, soft smile.“Best keep a watchful gaze in front as well as behind you during this time of year, Miss.”

The door announces it is shut with a small click and I am all alone in this big, wide room. 

I look at the painting she was giving the oddest glance at. Sophia was wistful, yet apprehensive in her stare which was odd for her. Lacy and Sophia were usually very warm(and a little neurotic), but maybe they heard me scream last night and I spooked them with some local superstition or something? I get up from the vanity to study the painting a little closer, moving to stand in front of the hearth, looking at the enormous canvas stretched almost the eternity of the wall. The prince’s golden eyes shine and sparkle under the warm morning glow that hits the painting perfectly. They all look so regal, so handsome and yet, so mysterious at the same time, hanging over the hearth just so. 

Something catches my eye. My gaze narrows, squinting as I see the tiny, orange and black butterfly in the corner of the painting.

I slowly realize as a thought fills my mind, my eyes widening. “...Just like the one I saw in the garden-”

A knock sounds at my door. “Little Bird?” Prince Hoseok’s voice filters through the wood, startling me from my thoughts. 

“Y-Yes?” I stammer, collecting my dress in my fists to move to the door quicker. “Yes, Prince Hoseok?” I ask, opening the wooden frame with a small smile on my lips.

“Good morning, Little Bird.” The cheery, red-headed prince, bowing slightly. He was already dressed to the nines in his gray wool day suit. The princes’ all dressed handsomely, but I do have a thought that Hoseok and Taehyung sport the most trendy and interesting colors and pieces out of all the princes. “I hope I am not disturbing you, but Jungkook informed us of the-” he pauses, looking for the correct word, his amber eyes roaming my face as he does so. “-incident that occurred last evening.” His eyes seem to flash with acute anger for a split second. “We have all come to the conclusion that we would not want you to be unaccompanied today, if that is quite alright with you?”

His hand extends to mine and I take it almost right away, leaving the comfort of my room. 

“Good girl,” Hoseok purrs softly so only I can hear as he loops my arm to intertwine with his. A jolt of lighting rushes to my nether region and I know my eyes expand at the feeling. That has never happened to me before. It excited me,  however, it also made me feel a small speck of terror stewing in my guts. “Right-o! Shall we?” He happily carried on as if I wasn't going through an internal crisis at this very moment. 

“Ye-yes.” I squeak. 

Hoseok began to walk me down to the dinning hall, the smells of breakfast wafting through the mansion. The prince quipped to me about how he wanted to dance with me right away at the ball as it was one of his favorite activities after hunting. 

Once Prince Hoseok and I stepped down onto the main floor from the grand staircase, the large house seemingly exploded with a flurry of hurry and mild panic. Maids and butlers ran to and fro, the service staff were almost fully complete with their ritual of turning the lavish home into one of pure royalty and splendor. One day more and the Harvest Moon Ball shall be hosted in the Bangtan Castle. Everyone has been in such a state of hustle and bustle, it was making me a little dizzy watching them shuffle around the marbled floor! 

The staff look like worker bees, buzzing about the hive, making it the most spectacular ball I have ever laid my eyes upon. Which might not be saying much as my father never threw such parties and gatherings. He hated that sort of frivolity. 

I thought of my beautiful dress Prince Seokjin had carefully crafted for me and sighed. “I am very delighted I can take part in the ball tomorrow.” I said as beautiful flowers from Jimin’s garden came through in huge golden vases by the tens of hundreds. The fragrant, colorful plumages needed two or more gentlemen of the Bangtan kingdom staff to carry them as the ornate containers appeared rather cumbersome to tout around.   

A wolfish grin spread across Hoseok’s face and he watched her with hungry, ravenous eyes while she took in the wealth and glamor that they have worked tirelessly to transform their den into. “We are too, Little Bird…We are too.” 

Breakfast was simple: sweet fruit, perfectly cooked porridge, crispy bacon, and fluffy eggs. The options were less plentiful then when I first arrived, but I imagine the staff very obviously had their hands full and they were busy attending and preparing other facets of the mansion. And rightfully so. A ball seems like it takes weeks, if not months, to prepare for. 

And now I am an extra burden for the brothers to shoulder. 

I must give them my thanks tomorrow. I did not have a lot to give them nor do I believe they are hurting or could ever want anything more. They live a comfortable life, or so it seems. I ponder as I chew my food all the ways that I could thank them as only Hoseok and Seokjin eat beside me. All the other brothers had their hands full with the impending ball happening tomorrow eve. 

I scanned the table as I watched the two princes nourish themselves for the day. Seokjin ate slowly as he read the news docket, his amber eyes roaming row by row, drinking in what he was reading. Hoseok scooped porridge into his mouth quickly and snatched more bacon off his plate, wolfing down his meal as it would be his last. He didn’t eat like a child or like a brute, he just consumed his meal with haste and less tack than his oldest brother. 

It was peaceful. Even with so much movement happening throughout the castle, the dining hall was calm, the demeanor of the room was quite content. I am happy I think to myself, basking in the glow of autumn sun pouring in from the windows. I inhale deeply as I set my teacup down which earns me glances from both princes. 

“Everything alright, Little Bird?” Seokjin simpered, amber eyes gazing at me over the black and white folded paper. 

“Oh, yes, indeed!” I exclaim as the dining staff start clearing away the fine china in front of me. “I was just thinking about how content and happy I am.” I smile at him and Hoseok at the head of the table. “It is the first time I have felt like this in a long while.”

They both smile with warmth and adoration. The prince's grins are genuine, which made my own smile spread across my lips. A thought from this morning crossed my mind and I uttered the question without thinking. “I have a question, if you both don’t mind?” 

They nod in tandem, Hoseok finishing the food on his plate finally. Seokjin folded the docket and set it down on the table beside his teacup. 

“Well, uh-” Nervousness flooded through me, their bright eyes watching me with anticipation made my heart skip a beat. “I was studying the lovely portrait of you all in my room. And I couldn’t help but notice a small butterfly in the corner like a signature an artist gives…” Their faces fell as I continued. “And I saw a monarch butterfly in the garden and wanted to know, I suppose, if your family has a connection to butterflies in some manner?”

“You what?” Hoseok choked, panicked in his query as he coughed and beat his chest with vigor. 

“Are you sure you saw a butterfly?” Seokjin asked me in alarm as he stood from his seat. “An orange and black butterfly?” 

I became puzzled. “Ye-Yes?” I questioned, glancing between the two brothers as they stare at me with shock, worry coloring their handsome features. 

“We do not have butterflies in Bangtan.” Seokjin spoke in a grave manner, approaching me with slow steps. His golden, amber eyes were the size of dinner saucers, looking down at me. I have never seen him behave in such a way. I fear I have said the wrong thing at the wrong time, shattering the peaceful and tranquil morning in the dining hall with my stupid question. 

I spoil everything. 

“They are a bad omen here,” Hoseok stood, walking over to join Seokjin, staring grimly into my orbs. I have rarely seen Hoseok not smile and it was a sight I wished not to see again. His smile was one of my favorite things about him. “Butterflies are the harbingers of death and destruction.” 

An eerie feeling like I was being watched spread across my body, just like in the garden, causing a shiver to climb its way down my spine. I fret I truly made a mistake bringing this up to the princes. My raw questioning and curiosity has gotten the better of me once more. I felt like this was a rabbit hole I did not want to dig around in, lest I fall in.  

BAM!

“Seokjin-hyung! Hobi-hyung!” Jimin cried, flying through the dining hall door, worry and terror clouding his pale face as he puffed, out of breath, “He is here early!”

I whip around behind me to the cause of the noise and see the silver-locked prince shaking. He appeared disheveled in his haste to get to the dining hall as quick as a crack of lightning. Jimin’s always perfect hair was out of place, his breathing labored, and his legs wobbled as he scrambled for purchase, for support on the wooden door. 

A low rumble leaves Hoseok’s throat now as he stands behind me. “How?” He hisses out through gritted teeth, his hot breath tickling the top of my braided locks. 

“Are you certain?” Seokjin asks, all niceties gone from his tone. 

“P-Positive, hyung.” Jimin clamored, knees buckling as he fell to the ground in a heap. Prince Jimin was as still as a statue then. No movement came from his lump of a body on the floor.

I lurch forward, my arms extending in concern toward the silver -haired prince on the ground. I was still, not daring to move as two strong, mighty hands held me back, gripping both shoulders so I could not move. 

“Who is here?” I question in a whisper, not daring to move. The situation was dire it seemed. Jimin needed assistance, a mysterious guest had appeared and butterflies were quite a sore subject in the kingdom of Bangtan. 

My peaceful morning was no more. 

My ears perked at a hearty laugh that suddenly echoed through the halls. All the commotion happening in the halls seemed to die out, like the flame of a candle being snuffed out. Time was slowing, melting around me as if I was trapped in molasses. A cold shiver radiated through my body making me rigid. My back burned but I still dare not move a muscle, still in the confines of the two prince’s grasp. 

A black-gloved hand pushed through the frame of the door Jimin was slumped in front of. The two men behind me inhaled, holding their breath as the easement produced a man in orange and black riding leathers standing before us. The air was tense as this mysterious stranger floated through the door as if he owned the wind he strode through.

“Is this how you treat an esteemed guest?” His voice had an accent to it, definitely not from your kingdom or the one you’ve stumbled into. “And right before the ball too?” He grinned a devilish gleam as he made his way over to the three of you, which you all were as still as statues. 

He flicked a strand of curly, dark brown hair back away from his face, his warm, chocolate gaze was locked onto the men behind you. This man was handsome. The type of man that would make women swoon and make men jealous. He was neither too large nor too short. He was neither too feminine nor too masculine looking. This stranger was a nearly perfect man, seemingly sculpted, handmade from the gods. 

Though, you couldn’t help but think the princes’ would be the ideal personalities you’d like to be courted by...as if that would ever happen to someone like you…but, maybe one day.   

Prince Seokjin and Hoseok were utterly quiet as this man fluidly strode toward the three of you.

“Thank you so much for the snack after the long journey.” The stranger continued, surveying the beautifully ornate dining hall. “Next time could you provide me with a virgin, you know how much I prefer them over--”

“Chris.” Seokjin practically snarled, disdain rolling off his tongue. “Why are you here?”

The man shrugged, his riding leathers crinkling, cracking the tense air around the lot of you. “You didn’t get my RSVP?” This Chris fellow tilted his head, smiling as he did so. “My creature said it found someone in the garden.”

“You. Are. Early.” Prince Seokjin said, ice dripping with every syllable he uttered. The Prince gripping my shoulder tightly glazed over Chris’s question. “Today is not a good day.” 

“And you are uninvited until tomorrow.” Prince Hoseok growled over my other shoulder. 

“Gentlemen, please.” Chris chuckled, plucking a strawberry from the tray of colorful fruit, examining it in his long fingers. “My brothers and I came to spend an evening with you, for old times sake.” His brown orbs glow red in the sunlight hitting his face in the dining hall windows. 

“We do not have time to entertain guests until tomorrow, good sir. I suggest you leave.” I blurt out. I jump with the sound of my voice, startling myself. 

I blush, flushing a crimson color I am sure, and look to the floor immediately. “We” I said...I do not truly live here. I am nothing more than a visitor here. What gives me the right, the gall, to say any of this at all?

“Is this your ward I’ve been hearing about?” Chris said, bending so our eyes could meet. “My, you are a pretty thing, aren’t you?” His nostrils expanded as he leaned down to stare into my orbs. At this angle they look ravenous, mad with desire or hunger…I cannot tell the difference nor do I wish to dwell upon the thought any longer. “Now, this is the type of snack, nay, meal I’ve been hunting for.” 

My brows furrow as Chris’s devilishly playful grin deepens. 

“Christopher Bangchan.” Prince Namjoon’s deep timbre cuts through the tense air. He helps pull prince Jimin to his feet as he comes-to. The silver-haired prince grabs his face in his hands, groaning like he just woke up from a long, restful slumber. “Let us talk in the parlor or library, perhaps. That way we do not disturb our ward any further.” Namjoon grins, dimples popping out of his cheeks and I swear I think swoon every time he so much as smirks at me. “Now, shall we? We have much to catch up on.” He steadies his younger brother like nothing even happened, righting him upright to his feet with a few pats on the back. 

Jimin stands on his own two feet, however they wobble like a newborn calf. The prince finds the nearest chair and slumps over in it, giving a slight moan of pain as he does so. 

I find Prince Namjoon’s amber-colored orbs and hope he can feel my many words of thanks and cunning praise I am sending him with my gaze. He gives a small wink in my direction, turning his back to the group of us and exits the dining hall. Christopher retreats with a salacious grin upon his face, gliding to follow behind silently.

A chill runs up my spine as his orbs flash red for a split second before he fully vanishes from view. 

Another wash of awkward silence ticks, time seems to come back into focus for me. Birds chirp and chatter outside the windows, the staff chatter amongst themselves as they are hard at work preparing for the ball tomorrow. The world begins to spin again and I feel like I am coming out of a year-long slumber. 

What an odd fellow. I think as I exhale a deep breath I never even realized I was holding. I shall try and stay clear of him tomorrow.

“Y/N…” Hoseok says, spinning me around. A large smile sat upon his face, gazing at me with so much adoration. “You can be quite the powder keg, can’t cha’?”

“My little bird.” Prince Seokjin strokes the side of my cheek with the back of his long, comforting hands. He looks at me with his kind, rich eyes. “Well done.” 

I smile wide, grinning from ear to ear. I don’t know that talking rudely out of turn was deserving of so much praise, but nonetheless, I am happy once more. I am content with these brothers I have come to live with. 

“But, please Little Bird…” Prince Seokjin furrows his brow, his smile slightly falling. “Please do not go anywhere unaccompanied without one of us from now on.” I’m sure I give him quite the puzzled expression as he continues. “The Harvest Moon Ball, while magnificent and splendid as it is, also brings with it some…unsavory characters to the castle. Do you understand?”

I nod.

“Good.” He claps his hands. “Wonderful, wonderful, yes.” Prince Seokjin nods back to me. “Now, let us go fetch some things I need in town. I believe they should all be finished.” 

“What about Prince Jimin?” I ponder, giving his brother a worrying glance. “Is he quite alright?” 

“I have got him.” Hoseok exclaimed, walking over to the silver-haired prince and ruffled his hair about. “You two make sure the ball will be fantastic for tomorrow. I’ll manage things here.” 

“Marvelous!” Seokjin took my hand in his and led me to the door as footmen rushed and worked to dress the oldest prince in his outside attire. “We have much to do in town, Y/N. Much to do, yes.”

There must have been an accident in the kitchen or maybe with a decoration? Several staff members were mopping and cleaning a giant spot of dark-colored liquid near the door. They always work so hard, I hope the princes give them enough time off. And especially after the Harvest Moon Ball. The substance was both liquid and gooey at the same moment; chunks of possible beef or pork were being scooped up with haste, the castle staff meticulously restoring the ground of the threshold of the grand entrance way. Did one of the staff drop a stew of beef on accident?

 “Shall we wait for Paisley?” Another query finds my lips as we walk outside to the gleaming black carriage that was getting ready to go into town for the day. Two beautiful tawny work horses snorted, stamping their feet onto the ground, their hooves large and heavy in the mid-morning light. I noticed Jongbak was nowhere to be seen on this morning either, which was rather odd. He would do everything in his power to be in the presence of Paisley. 

Seokjin paused, stilling his movements as a footman opened the door for both the prince and I. He was a few steps in front of me and I felt his aura darken with my question. My heart was beating wildly, trapped behind my sternum. I haven’t seen Paisley this morning…or come to think of it, last night Sophia and Lacy have been attending to me. They often rotated in their care of me, but it was not normal to go this long without seeing my friend. 

“I am sorry that I didn’t inform you earlier,” Prince Seokjin walked to the carriage door, spinning on his heel, holding out his hand to assist me into the  carriage. “Paisley is no longer with us.”

A small gasp climbs from my throat, my eyes widening with surprise. “You mean she left? She no longer works in the castle?” I find his gloved hand in mine as I step closer to the carriage door. He helps me climb into the wheeled device, seating on the other side of me as Sophia silently follows, sitting next to me with a grim expression on her face.

Seokjin shakes his head, a sheepish smile springing up upon his pillowy lips. “I’m afraid not, Little Bird…I’m afraid not.” 

“Do you know where she went off to?” I query further. “I will miss her so!” Growing up with brothers was fantastic and I wouldn’t change it for the world, but in recent weeks I have grown close to Paisley, considering her akin to a sister to me. I felt utterly shameful. I didn't know she was planning to leave Bangtan Castle. I would have done everything in my power to make her stay. 

Prince Seokjin shakes his head, his rich locks swaying with him as the carriage begins to move. “She didn’t say anything except I know she went somewhere far, far away.” 

-

Riding into town, it was exceedingly calm and quiet today, which is out of the norm. Usually the village is swimming with life. Everyone outside, the shops full, restaurants buzzing with customers, the park always packed with lovely couples and families playing. The weather was not a deterrent as it was indeed chilly, but altogether sunny. I’d be remiss not to say that it was a beautiful autumn day!

Seokjin visited the butcher, which he told me was no place for a lady, so the Prince had me wait in the coach. Footmen carried crates full of items in glass, storing them above and below the carriage. I wished to know more about what was in the containers, but I held my tongue. 

I had enough outbursts and speaking out of turn for the day, I thought. 

Next, the carriage strode to an apothecary where Prince Seokjin let me pick a delightful, sweet yet mild tea. He said he was very fond of my choice. We received bundles of dried herbs, containers of what looked to be sludge, and colorful powders in vials. The prince paid the apothecary a hefty sum, a sack of coins exchanged for these small items seemed like the shopkeeper was ripping Seokjin off, but, no haggling was made, so I said not a word. 

We stopped for tea and sandwiches in a restaurant which was inside of an enormous green house located in the heart of the town. Fragrant flowers, leafy green vines, and tall tropical plants inhabited the glass dome. The air was warm and the atmosphere was relaxing as we made polite conversation. There were only a small handful of other patrons in the dining hall, making it feel as if I was shouting to the prince sitting across the table from me. 

“Y/N.” Seokjin addressing me by my name made my cheeks flush. I do hope he doesn’t notice, I shall just play it off if he does! The warm air in the greenhouse must be affecting me so! “Are you most excited for tomorrow's event?” Seokjin queried, finishing his meaty sandwich. 

I nod, wiping my mouth with the edge of my napkin. “Indeed.” I smile at him. “I am most looking forward to wearing my sparkling, glittering gown Madam Hwasa has created for me in little-to-no time. My mind wanders away from itself as it thinks of the dressmaker pointing to the middle of my back, to the small, bird wings-like birthmark I’ve carried with me since I came into this world. 

“I do hope you save me a dance, Little Bird.” Prince Seokjin purs, looking at me with a glimmer of desire in his eyes. I am sure my cheeks have only grown more pink by the minute. My fleshy center in between my legs jolts with electricity and I blink rapidly, trying to think about morphing away from my ever changing thoughts. “...Possibly two dances?” 

I melt at his velvety, swoon-worthy words. “Y-Yes, of course.” I stammer. 

“Good.” A wolfish grin spreads across the prince’s face. His amber eyes glint as he lightly touches the top of my hand. “Very good.

-

“Why the fuck are you here early, Chris?” Hoseok thunders, throwing the wooden library doors open. His amber orbs flash red, anger seething out of every pore. “Who invited you in?” 

“The cute little maid with the freckles.” Chris stated, a coy smile on his lips. “She was quite the snack.” Chris smuggly looks over his glass of brandy. The outsider was sitting on the red velvet couch in the library, looking comfortable in his orange and black riding leathers.

“Monster.” Yoongi’s deep timbre growled, baring his pearly canine teeth.  The brothers, Yoongi, Namjoon, and Jungkook, all stood facing the man adjacent to them, scowls on their faces, brows knit in frustration. 

“Come now,” Chris chidded as Hoseok strode across the room, standing in the menacing line with his wolf brethren. “We cannot help what we are. You all should understand better than mortals, no?” 

“There is a contract in place. You cannot harm one of our staff during the ball.” Namjoon frankly states. 

“But, it is not quite time for the ball, now--is it?” Chris snickers.

“You never sent a calling card, which is something you are supposed to do as well.” Jungkook folds his arms across his chest, a loathsome attitude souring the merriment of today. 

Chris gives a fake gasp, putting his free hand across his smirking mouth. “I did,” he said, feigning innocence, “my butterfly said someone saw it who lives in the castle.” He shrugs. “I thought you boys knew.” 

“Y/N saw it, but she didn’t know it was one of your…creatures.” Hoseok sneered down at the man sitting down, sipping his brandy casually. 

Yoongi slams his hands on the coffee table, splintering the wood on the cherry-wood table, sending pieces flying. Spittle flies from Yoongi’s peeled back lips, snarls erupting from his throat. “You are not welcome here this evening.” Prince Yoongi decides, the collection of wolf-men nod their heads in agreement. 

“Tell me about your ward.” Chris chuckles, his accent coming out in full force now that he is becoming more comfortable, ignoring the question. “She is awfully pretty.” The wolf-brothers snarl, feral noises emitting from their lips. “Keeping her all to yourselves, huh?”

“Don’t. You. Dare. Think. About. It.” Jungkook riles, enunciating his words with dark, animalistic noises. His wolf form rippling under his human skin, threatening to burst free. 

“Once you finish your drink, you need to leave.” Hoseok snaps. A darkened look glazing across his usually happy-go-lucky features.  

A small snort leaves the stranger’s nostrils. “You haven’t marked your territory very well, boys.” Chris takes a small sip of his brown colored alcohol. “Anyone, or anything, could gobble her right up.”

“I’m going to get my hunting rifle.” Hoseok angrily says as he spins on his heel to retreat out of the library.

“I’ll go with you.” Namjoon agrees, his lip lifted in disgust. 

“Alright, alright.” Chris stands, draining the last drops of the strong drink from his glass. “I know when I’m not wanted.” He stretches, smiling as his fangs poking out from his top lip, smiling at the angry group of wolf-men. He makes his way to the window, climbing through the frame, and disappearing into the daylight. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” His words echo in the library. 

Hoseok lets out a wild howl, informing the pack what just happened here and who they need to watch out for. 

-

The next day, I was told I should keep to the guest room as the princely brothers were very busy preparing for the ball happening this evening. 

I was rather confused as to why. Did they not wish me at their side all the morrow? Do the princes not deem me fit to be in my company? Do the princes of Bangtan wish me not good enough company? Do they loathe me now for speaking out of turn yesterday?

In these moments, I deeply missed my brothers. I fear I would never be a solitary creature, preferring the company of many over being alone. I craved their smiling faces, their boisterous laughs, the way they teased me so. 

I wondered about why I was in solitary confinement all morning while I ate breakfast of buttered toast, sausage, and eggs. My mind raced as I read through the latest news docket, my eyes scanning other the black and white text, never actually reading anything. I pondered as I was scrubbed from head to toe, being rubbed raw as if I was poultry, going to be prepared to be eaten as the ball later. Thoughts of confusion were all that hovered in my brain all morning and afternoon. 

I couldn’t concentrate on anything. My mind is springing back and forth like a ball on a wire. And to top it  off, my two attendants were no help to my restless mood. 

Sophia and Lacy flit and flounce about the guest room, rushing in and out all day. They brought me breakfast, the news docket, and all other petty gossip that was brought up from downstairs. The women are usually on edge, but I have never seen the sisters in such an anxious state. 

This just added to the tense air of the guest room, making me feel desperate to leave. I felt like a trapped, caged animal in this wide room the princes have provided for me. I felt both ungrateful and agitated with the same thought. I am grateful I have a place to live, a home that has welcomed me even though I am a complete stranger. However, I am rather displeased because they are telling me I need to be shut up in my room all day, never getting to help or see what the ball will look like. I felt as if I was in my role of little sister once more, being told what I can and couldn’t do. I feel like  these thoughts were unfair, but true at the same time.

The only moments I was allowed some respite from my whirling thoughts and oppression room was when I needed to relieve myself. 

Staring at myself in the mirror of a cold, private bathroom on the second floor where the guest room I stay in resides, I wonder why the princes have shut me out this morning. My brow wrinkles and I raise an arm to the ceiling, turning my head to my armpit. No, I don’t suppose I smell, but perhaps one's own smell doesn’t affect themselves?

I look rather odd, I think, clothed in a very casual and modest dress of thin, light blue colored silk. It was chilly this morning and I had chosen to skip wearing socks on my journey to the lavatory. I feel like I have rings under my eyes, sleep torturous from the nightmares of large wolves and dogs that meet me when I shut my eyes.  I shall give my face a good wash before Sohpia and Lacy apply makeup the princes have purchased and wished  for me to wear. It was almost time time for me to step into my beautiful-

Run.

I still, sucking in a breath. I was mid-rinse of my face with cold water, feeling a shiver run down my spine. A dreadful feeling was crawling down my back, making every hair on my body stand at attention. My body is crying out that I am in danger. My heart was beating quickly. I need to flee! 

Water drips down my chin, as I hang over the marbled wash basin. I am too afraid to look up as I hear a shuffling sound behind me. I had not heard anyone come through the door and I was worried that the man from yesterday would be making another unexpected appearance. I gulp. I am alone. Sophia and Lacy are at the opposite end of the hall…Would they hear me if I screamed?

Would I even be able to scream?

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” A smooth, buttery voice wafts from behind me. I jolt, though, still not brave enough to look up at the reflection in the mirror. A man’s voice. This was not the same accent the man, Chris, had from yesterday. This voice was new, more playful, more devious--if that was even possible. “Such a pretty ward.”

I should run. I plead with myself. I think about a few weeks ago, a scowl forming on my moist face. I am not helpless. I remember the red spray from my fathers wrinkly throat. I will not run anymore.

“This room is occupied” I say, not glancing up, my tone cold and not friendly. “Do you have no manners that you do not knock when a door is closed?” 

“Oh-ho!” The man behind chuckles, his fingers lightly brushing across my exposed shoulder blades. I shudder. It felt like this man reached into my body and caressed my soul with a simple stroke of his warm fingertips. “You are a feisty one, aren’t you?” 

“Who are you?” I clench my fist, whipping my head up, my fears dissipating with his jeer.

My eyes blew wide as I stare into the reflection, wildly looking behind me in the mirror. There was no one in this dimly lit, cold room. No, that’s not right. It can’t be. His fingertips trail down my clothed spine, the silk making it easy for him to trail down lower and lower. I have never been touched like this and I have never been touched without permission which makes me feel queasy. 

“What, pet?” The man with the rich baritone was still behind me, taunting me. “You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

Enough of this nonsense! I turn suddenly, punching the man square in the face. He stumbles backward, a loud crack emitting from the middle of his face. “Unhand me, you heathen!” I shout, bellowing as loud as one possibly could, hoping someone would come and assist me with this ruffian in the lavatory. 

“Fuck.” Shiny, bright red rubies drip from his broken nose, falling on the beautiful white marble floor. His eyes flash red with anger as he cradles his bloody face, staring daggers at me. My tight fist throbs, hurting from the force I just used on this stranger. “I’m going to kill you, you filthy human.”

Human? I don’t dwell on his weird descriptor of me. “Try it.” I sneer, adrenaline flowing through me, making me speak before I think clearly. 

This evil man lunges at me, giving a loud shout as I glower at him, my fists coming up defensively to my chest, ready to hit him again. I’ll show you who has killed a man.

“Y/N!”

It happened so fast, I feared if I was blinking too fast, I would miss it. 

In a flash of black and white, Jungkook, who is dressed rather smartly in a posh tuxedo, races into the room, kicking this man in the face. This sends the stranger flying, hitting the hard, marbled walls. A loud thump He lands with an, “oof” sound, his head lulling to his chest. 

“Are you okay?” Jungkook’s amber eyes search mine, sparkling in the dim light. He lightly grips my shoulders, looking me over to see if I’m alright. 

I quake, my body shaking with pent up fear coursing through my veins, adrenaline dying down. But I nod. “Y-Yes.” I manage. “I am fine.” I look at the man slumped over, knocked unconscious. “My fist hurts a little…I suspect I broke his nose.” 

He blinks slowly, jaw dropping down, my words sinking into his skull as he processes what I uttered. “You what?” His sunset-colored orbs expand. The youngest prince stares at me with a mix of admiration and awe. “You what?” He repeats. 

I can’t help but give a small laugh at that, my frown flipping into a small smile. “He touched me inappropriately,” I sighed, “…So, I punched him.” 

Jungkook snaps his jaw back in place, hastily removing his hands from my shoulders. I notice how cold it was without his warmth there. “I was coming up to tell your attendants that the ball was kicking off soon and I heard you yell.” 

“Thank you.” I shiver, looking back at the man as Jungkook guides me out of the room. “Thank you, Jungkook.”

“I know today must have been agonizing for you.” The youngest prince ushers me into the hall, closing the large lavatory door behind us. It groaned on the hinges, making a loud thud as it clasped shut. “I am sorry we had you stay in your room all day.” Jungkook nodded to the door, "We didn't want riff-raff like that to find its way to you.”

A thought crossed my mind now that I was more rational, more-level headed. “Prince Jungkook, I didn’t hear him enter.” He blinks at me as I continue. “I had the door shut and locked.” I shake my head, brow furrowing. “He had no reflection in the mirror…” Jungkook continued to blink slowly at me as I finished. “And…he called me a…human? Isn’t that all…rather odd?”

A beat of silence and I feared I was going to be burned at the stake, accused of witchcraft or something akin to that for saying a ridiculous thing. A person with no reflection! What a queer thing to suggest! Maybe I was losing my mind, maybe I was seeing things and needed to be locked away, living away from others until the end of time. 

“Indeed, rather odd.” Jungkook nodded, leaning down to place the back of his hand on my forehead. “Are you feeling poorly, Y/N? I know that man gave you quite the fright. Are you sure you would like to attend the ball this evening?”

A wave of calm fluttered over my body at his touch. I reveled in the feeling of this soft, light sensation traveling through my body. It was a tingling feeling like butter melting on a hot stove or chocolate in one's mouth. I felt my worries float away on a fluffy cloud with his touch. “I feel fine.” I respond, feeling like I’ve been rejuvenated. 

“Wonderful.” He grins, gently guiding me back to my room to be placed in the eager hands of Sophia and Lacy. “One of us will be here to escort you to the ballroom when you have finished getting ready.” He says as he shuts the door softly in my face. 

The youngest prince gives a low snarl, Hoseok and Taehyung stalking upstairs in tandem, scowls painting their handsome faces. Jungkook rolls his shoulders, his wolf form rippling under his human skin as he marches to the lavatory. The brothers growled, throwing open the door as the strange man moaned in pain on the ground. Jungkook snickered as he hoisted the man up by his lapels. “We have vampire trash to take out.”

-

Author's Notes: Wow, has it really been two years since I worked on this story? That's crazy to me! Thank you for sticking around if you have been waiting for this story to continue! I have a portion of the ball written out, so hopefully it won't take me years to complete and upload the next bit! Haha. Anyway, a comment, like, or reblog is always appreciated but not necessary. Love you all and thank you again for reading. 💕

-

Current word count: 35.9k

A/N: i've been really craving some good fantasy lately and i'm so in love with dragons, so of course i had to write something for our boys! for this setting, kind of imagine a fusion of asian and western fantasy, the same with clothing - it's going to be a mix of both together. also i'm doing whatever i want with the boys' hairstyles so it's different eras all mashed together, just based on what i liked the most

○ Chapter 1: On the wind of morning

⇝ The first encounter between a girl and a dragon. ⇜

○ Chapter 2: The moon hangs heavy

⇝ When meeting the thunder is bittersweet and family is complicated. ⇜

○ Chapter 3: Prove your heart

⇝ How far does a girl have to go to gain a dragon's trust? ⇜

Character studies

Notes to chapters:

Story lore: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 |

Dictionary: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 |

Thank you for reading <3

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@dachshunddame @channiespup @danielle143 @borahaetelevision @kingofbodyrolls

@jungshaking @futuristicenemychaos @ah2002 @tadomikiku @ambsv

@silscintilla @anaspectoflife @shakespeare-in-the-park7 @uniquecutie-puffs @starlight-1010

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@canarystwin @ldysmfrst @nikkiordonez12 @mysteriousgeminizone @i-like-puppy-mg

Recent ex-wife that is.

For three years the two of you masqueraded as the perfect power couple; appearing completely in love to the public eye in hopes of forming an unshakable business partnership (transaction more like). You attended charity balls together, collaborated on several work projects, and attended countless corporate functions to establish both your presence in your respective industries.

That's right, you and Jungkook were in an arranged marriage and it would have flourished into a classic love story if it wasn't for one obvious detail–you're the only one that fell in love.

Despite all the times he's called you "stunning" when you dolled up for formal events or that you "feel so good" during late-night sex, Jungkook never truly loved you. He cared about you, did his best not to intentionally hurt you, and even tried loving you back; thinking he could fall for you with time.

But the most he could ever see you as is a friend, a beautiful friend, though a friend nonetheless. He knows how much it pains you, especially after you've held out hope that he'll want you the same way someday. This one embarrasses you the most which he wishes it wouldn't.

Well, Jungkook doesn't want to trap either of you in a loveless marriage any longer. So even if it means being the center of gossip columns for a while, he's giving you a divorce so you can find the right person to share your love with.

After all, you deserve it; you both do.

Today's day one of looking at one another as exes and it's bittersweet, to say the least. The only factor that would make this worse is if children were in the equation, but there aren't any.

"Thanks for letting me swing by __," he speaks first, doing his best to conjure up a genuine smile. The black floral button-up he's wearing suits him well and his smooth chest peaking out near the collar is far too tempting, yet you know better than to let your eyes linger.

"Of course," you answer and grab a small box from behind your desk. "These are 100% yours so I wouldn't keep them from you." Jungkook takes the box of belongings from your hands with slight hesitation. You're keeping a brave front for the sake of civility and professionalism.

He doesn't blame you for that either.

As a CEO of a large multinational corporation himself, Jungkook's no stranger to the age-old philosophy that that office is no place to let your personal woes get out of hand; you have a team to lead and a reputation to uphold. The latter is proving to be harder for you than him, however, being that the media is portraying you as some kind of she-devil, spinster, or worse of all—a cheater.

Jungkook plans to personally make sure those articles get removed from the public eye before the end of the week. (Not that he'll tell you though.)

"I still could have dropped by the house to pick these up if it'd been easier. I feel bad for interrupting your work day over a couple of old books, records, and dog toys." He watches you nod silently as he vocalizes the inconvenience of it all; he really doesn't have to but he does it anyway.

"No, it's alright. You haven't been to the house since you moved out, so I thought it'd be better if we met here instead." You pause to check the time. "If there's anything you think of that you might've forgotten later, just let me know. In the meantime, I have a meeting in twenty so..."

"He misses you."

"I'm sorry?"

"Bam, I mean." Jungkook throws the box under an arm and pulls out his phone. He scrolls through his camera gallery until he gets to one particular photo of a red and tan Doberman. "He hates the new place and all he does is sulk by the door."

Your heart's already struggling to settle down from the painful reality that the man you love is leaving you, let alone being reminded of another forced separation. Bam's the closest thing to a baby that either of you ever had and he was one of the few things that bonded you and your now ex-husband together.

Being Jungkook's dog, however, he couldn't stay with you. That means no more visiting the dog park, sneaking treats behind Jungkook's back, and snuggling together in the king-size bed after a stressful day.

"I'm sure he just wants his favorite chew toy that's been held hostage at the house," you joke lightly, thinking it simpler to spin the topic. It's similar to what Jungkook does when he uses flowery language to soften the cold hard truth of your divorce; that he doesn't love you and he can't ever. "Give Bam a lot of attention for me. I miss him too."

"Of cour—shit!" When Jungkook moves to slip his phone back into his pocket he loses his balance, causing the box with his belongings to spill out on your office floor. Naturally, you kneel down to help him clean up the mess. It's not until your fingers reach for the same item and come into contact with each other that you quickly retract your hand. "Sorry, did I shock you?" He asks gently and tosses the last item into the box before standing up.

"No, you didn't." You rise to your feet as well, until you're face to face with him. This time it's closer than before. His hooded eyes stare straight into yours and you can't believe it takes being inches from his face to notice how bloodshot his eyes are. "You look exhausted. You should go home and rest Kook." The petname is out before your brain tells you to stop.

Jungkook's eyes widen, the corner of his lip subtly quirking up for the first time since the start of the conversation. "Don't worry about me __. I probably get more breaks than you do. But thanks." He briefly glances at the ticking Snoopy clock behind you, a Christmas gift he gave you as a joke last year. "You still have that?"

You look over your shoulder at the small, Snoopy-shaped digital clock on your desk. Ten minutes until your next meeting. "It's cute and it makes for a great conversation starter with clients so I guess so. If you want me to give it ba—"

"Keep it," he interrupts. "Please, it was a gift and I'd like you to have it if you enjoy it." Jungkook gnaws on his lip before continuing. "Speaking of clients and business partners, I should make myself scarce now shouldn't I?"

"Yes. I do have that meeting soon." But once he leaves, neither of you is sure when you'll see the other again aside from the odd charity event. The Annual Winter Gala in December is one that particularly comes to mind.

Most high-ranking executives like yourselves attend the function to keep up appearances and to network with other professionals. Last year, you and Jungkook were the center of attention however now that you're divorced, you fear you'll be avoided like the plague—they always preferred Jungkook over you anyway.

"You're forming a new partnership with that actor, right? Kim Taehyung? I read an inkling about it online yesterday." He also read his whole biography too. The man is equally handsome as he is altruistic and kind.

"Nothing's signed and sealed yet. I'm sure you've heard that he's gotten dozens of other offers on the table. To be honest, I'm surprised you haven't nabbed him yet."

"Yeah, we don't need...wait sorry, let me rephrase that. We aren't ready for a new partner or merger yet."

You can read between the lines despite Jungkook's correction. His company is thriving more than yours in every way, so he doesn't need the help of a third-party endorser...like you. Well, you're not doing too shabby yourself and this isn't simply about fame and fortune you want to argue.

The head poking through your door stops you from following through on that last line.

"Mrs. Jeon—shit." Your secretary Kim Namjoon screws his eyes shut at his drastic misstep. "Ms. __, Kim Taehyung called and said he'll be a bit late due to unexpected delays during his filming today. He apologizes profusely but is on his way over now. Sajangnim," he bows at Jungkook respectively.

"That's fine, Namjoon, thank you. You can send him in whenever he gets here. Mr. Jeon was just about to leave and I had the rest of my day cleared."

"Of course. I'll let him know to come in." Your secretary nods and shuts the door. Jungkook shifts between his feet once Namjoon is out of sight, a habit he's picked up that tells you he has more to say.

"Was there anything else, Mr. Jeon?" You shuffle a few files on your desk, prepping for your meeting with Taehyung. At this point, you're not even looking at Jungkook.

"Mr. Jeon? I think I prefer when you call me Kook more," he mutters, allowing his line of sight to catch a glimpse of your lips. "Can I...kiss you? Before I go."

The question knocks the wind out of your lungs and you instantly lift your head up toward him. "Kiss me?" You gulp slowly, then shake your head. "No, I'd rather we not. Goodbye kisses aren't really my thing." You couldn't be a bigger liar, evident from the sudden churning in your gut. Having Jungkook's lips on yours was the best and worst moments of your entire relationship but you have to fight yourself....your innate desires that tell you to say yes.

"Okay, I understand. What about a hug?"

"Jungkook..."

"I'm sorry, I'm pushing. Thanks again for my stuff." He gestures at the box under his arm. "I hope your meeting with Kim Taehyung goes well. Maybe I'll see you both at the next Winter Gala." He makes a beeline for the door.

"Wait!"

Jungkook stills in his tracks as he watches you stride in front of him. He's unsure what you stopped him for until your hands reach out towards his shirt collar, smoothing the delicate material down. A light smile plays on his face as you do this, though he says nothing aside from a simple 'thanks'.

"It was bothering me the whole time." You finish fixing his collar and peer up into his Bambi eyes. Out of all the potential suitors, you wish Jeon Jungkook didn't become your husband. It's not like you got to keep him or anything.

Jungkook once again flickers his gaze toward your barely parted lips. And this time, you do the same for him. Before either of you have time to back out you lean forward and kiss him.

It's a hard kiss too. Painful but so inviting that neither of you pulls away.

With his free hand, Jungkook snakes a hand around your waist to hug you close. Having his fingers pressed against the small of your back is so familiar and all you can do is deepen the kiss.

You're obviously not the only one that gets a sense of pleasure from this because, in a matter of seconds, the box from under Jungkook's arm falls to the ground. He then places his second hand on the side of your neck and jawline which you lean into, exposing the other side of your neck.

"Jungkook," you gasp when his lips attach themself to the soft skin, sucking lightly. His teeth come out and nip too. "Wait, we can't do this, we shouldn't. Taehyung, he'll be here soon."

"That would have sounded so convincing if you didn't just moan the words, baby." He walks you backward until you're forced to sit atop your mahogany desk.

"Don't call me that." You allow him to push up your pencil skirt and spread your thighs until your panties are the only material he sees. You decided to go with black lace today, his favorite now that you think about it.

"Did you—"

"No, they weren't for you."

A brief growl leaves the man's rose-tinted lips. "In that case, we don't need them." He places both hands on your hips and brings you into another kiss, messier than before. His tongue shoves between the seam of your lips to lick every crevasse he can. He hasn't kissed you like this for months and to be brutally honest, he's missed it as much as you.

Jungkook hasn't been with anyone else since marrying you either, which means he's completely adjusted to your body, your preferences, and what turns you on. The same applies to you so while he's busy shoving his tongue down your throat, you palm his half-harden bulge through his trousers.

"Mm," he groans and bucks his hips into your hand. You smile at how well you've managed to draw a response from him. With a little burst of confidence, you hastily move to unbuckle his pants. "What are you doing?" He mumbles between kisses.

You decide not to answer, preferring to reach inside his trousers to take his length out. You make sure to pump it a few times until he's fully hard. Jungkook has a gorgeous dick, and that takes a lot for you to admit.

"Fuck, that's it." He says with gritted teeth, now watching your hand as it moves up and down his cock. "Get me how you want me."

"We don't have much time." You slide your panties down your legs and spread your thighs wide apart, which makes Jungkook's eyes dilate about 10 meters. "Fuck me, please." One last time. Make love to me one last time.

"Are you sure? I don't have a condom."

"It's okay, I'm on birth control. As long as you're still clean then its fine."

"I am. I got tested recently. But are you sure you want this?"

You glance at his pulsating length, tip leaking with pre-cum, and swallow hard. "Hurry."

"Fuck, okay." Jungkook wastes not another second and guides you flat on your back, his hands resting on either side of your body. The coolness of your desk has you shiver slightly. He then urges you to raise your legs until they can wrap loosely around his slim waist. And as if second nature, you link your arms around his neck as he eases him into you. He's able to bottom out without much effort thanks to how wet you've become.

"Oh god." Your back arches off the surface of your desk as Jungkook thrusts into you. They're only practice thrusts at first to get you re-adjusted to his size, yet the pleasure zipping down your spine already has your eyes rolling up.

You shouldn't be doing this at all. Your conscious whispers to again to which you blindly dismiss. You'll enjoy it now and tomorrow, start a new—another lie you tell yourself.

"Fuckfuckfuck, you're so wonderful for me," he chants while pushing his cock in and out of you, the speed of his movements picking up to an insane rate. Jungkook never had an issue with quickies so he's likely in his element now. "You know what this reminds me of?" He cocks a smirk and kisses down your neck.

"Hm?"

"That time when we were abroad for a weekend conference. Remember when we stopped at my second office to pick up some files? You were so horny that day that you pushed me into my chair and demanded that I let you ride me. It took the wind right out of my sails to see you like that, so confident and in control." He prys apart the top button of your blouse until he can slide the material down your shoulders. He doesn't take it off completely, favoring the chance to place kisses on your newly exposed area instead.

"I was beyond stressed that day. It was the first time I had to speak at that conference and you looked so good with your freshly slicked back hair. I couldn't stop myself—oh fuck! Right there Kook, don't slow down. Please." Jungkook grunts at the use of his petname and fucks you rougher, sweat forming around his forehead as his dark hair dangles messily over his eyes.

You manage to sneak a glance at the time on your Snoopy clock between thrusts. "Shit, I need to come soon, or Kim Taehyung's never going to agree to do business with me." The man laughs and buries his head on your shoulder.

"You never know, he could be really into threesomes."

"Fuck! Don't joke about that." You claw at his back and surprise both of you with the unexpected clenching of your pussy.

"You're right, I take it back," he groans and continues to snap his hips. "Looks like he's not the one who wants a threesome after all, considering your body's response to the suggestion. You wanna ask him if he walks in?" He whispers in your ear and you're embarrassed that your cheeks burn at the thought.

Of course, Kim Taehyung was sexy and you've rehearsed to yourself dozens of times not to let yourself get any crazy ideas about him. Still, one unrequited love is enough for you; Taehyung wouldn't want a divorcee. You shake the train of thought before it has time to go any further. "Make me come, Kook. Need you to finish too. It's not just Taehyung who could walk in at any second."

Jungkook grunts and continues to thrust into you, bouncing you up and down his thick length as the desk shakes underneath you. He feels you getting closer and closer by the sporadic clenching of your walls squeezing him. A big part of him doesn't want this to end but it has to....he doesn't love you. He only wants to make you feel good before he has to say goodbye. Both of you come just before Namjoon calls your office phone, giving you a heads-up that Taehyung's about to enter your office.

Jungkook shoves his pants back on while you button up your blouse and fold over your skirt. You decided to shove your underwear in your bag with the lack of time. No one has any business digging in there anyway.

"How do I look?" You turn around to get a quick once-over from Jungkook but he's already out the door. Now the person standing in front of you is Kim Taehyung who has nothing but the most genuine smile.

"You look lovely as always Ms. __. I'm so sorry I'm late by the way. I feel terrible about it so I brought you these." Taehyung whips out a large bouquet of your favorite flowers. "Hope you don't mind that I did a little research on you ahead of time. I found out these have a special place in your heart."

You smile and accept the bouquet with thanks. As you set them on your desk, a messages comes through your phone. You manage to give a quick look.

Unknown Number: Sorry I had to duck so fast! I know it looked rude but Taehyung was already opening the door and you were dressed so I thought it'd be better if I left. Hope you're meeting goes well! And thanks for everything today ;) if you need anything, you have my number.

You flip your phone over and invite Taehyung to have a seat. Business is business, and you have to carry on even if your heart has completely sunk to the ground. Kim Taehyung is sweet anyway, so you'll enjoy his company.

Too bad you don't realize how much he enjoys yours as well.

a/n: so, yeah... there's a potential for our Jk to actually love oc and not realize it but either way he does care about her (despite the impulsive sex). And yes, taehyung likes oc... it's like a double unrequited love 😔 okay bye lmk what you think, thank you! 😘

masterlist

“To whom?”

“Your friend Taehyung.”

“Agh… How much is that prick paying you?”

The point of the matter was that it was bustling, some colliding if they looked away from where they were going for more than a breath. It worked in your favour for it was then easier to make yourself scarce right after stealing bags of coins, such as those of the three men seemingly bargaining by a workshop’s entrance out of which a large block of marble was being dragged. Perfect.

“Three ducats.”

“Three?! He’s robbing you of two ducats. I’ll pay you the five it’s worth.”

You kept your head low as you approached the pair that seemed wealthier and with those stealthy hands of yours unfastened the bags tied to their belts. After all, pickpocketing was a skill you’d had under your own for some years now, so this was bound to go smoothly.

Because you didn’t realise there was a guardian with them, perhaps you’d grown arrogant.

“I’m sorry, maestro. It’s reserved.”

“But it’ll become a waste in his possession!”

As you slipped away into the crowd, mouth watering at the fresh-baked bread you were going to devour as soon as bought, this brown dog leaped up at you out of nowhere, ignoring your desperate efforts to shake him off. If anything, they caused him to bark.

No, no, no…

The three men turned to the scene playing out not so far, and thinking his dog was bothering you one of them shouted, “Bam, come here, boy!” but as he obediently ran to his owner, you were too slow to hide the bags in your hands. It only took the pair a second to make them out, check whether theirs still hung on their belts, find them not, work out you’d stolen them, look back up, and find you not either.

Of course, you’d made your escape by then, dived into the sea of people and swum through them as quickly as possible, only stopping when you reached an empty vaulted alley to catch your breath.

That was ridiculously close. If you weren’t more careful next–

Your train of thought was interrupted by someone grabbing you by the arm from behind and pushing you against the nearest wall. A grunt accompanied the thud, and a gasp followed at the sight of the two men from before—dog included. Pinned in place, it’d be a bad idea to fight back or attempt to run away again. Fuck’s sake.

“Do you know what happens to thieves?” the one cornering you asked so close that when the cold breeze rustled his hair, some strands grazed your face. You looked away to avoid the tickling rather than out of fear, or so you wanted to believe. “They have a hand cut off. Seems fair, doesn’t it, Jimin?”

By contrast, that Jimin didn’t look intimidating, otherwise still catching his breath from the chase, but he did snatch the coin bags from your hands. “It doesn’t have to be so, maestro. We got our money back. She’s… just a girl.”

“And that exempts her of crime?”

“Please, don’t report me,” you begged, humiliating as though it was.

“Why shouldn’t we?” the maestro scoffed. Maestro… You were being threatened by a damned craftsman, the other one probably his assistant.

“Because I don’t want to lose a hand?”

“Oh, but we wanted to lose money, did we?” You rolled your eyes, and he released his grip only to step away. “Take us to your father, brat. He’ll answer for you.”

It took you a moment to respond, “I don’t have a father, or anyone... Only I can answer for my actions.”

“You’re a beggar?” Jimin asked, taking pity as he studied your appearance for the first time. Dishevelled hair, tattered dress, unpleasant smell… Yes, they should’ve guessed.

“She doesn’t beg, though, does she? She steals.”

“Only from cunts.”

His head snapped to meet your glare, and Jimin laughed, “You seem to not know whom you speak to.” He could be Jesus for all you cared. Uninterested, you petted the dog, Bam, seeing as he’d leapt up at you again. “This is Jeon Jungkook.”

You froze. The Jeon Jungkook? The famous artist who painted and sculpted for the Pope? Whom faraway kings and even emperors commissioned? The one whose genius was said to be changing the world?

At the lack of attention, Bam returned to his master, and that snapped you out of your shock to ask, “Then why do you whine?” The two men frowned, having clearly expected an apology paired with the usual bootlicking. “As if you need that bag more than I!”

“What nerve,” he scoffed again, making you wince by grabbing your arm tighter than before and starting to drag you into the next street. “You’re going straight to the authorities!”

“Wait,” Jimin intervened, thank God. “Weren’t you in need of a servant, maestro?”

“So?”

Jimin pointed at you with his gaze as though it was obvious. “You’re in need of a servant, she’s in need of a roof.”

“I would rather have a hand cut off.”

“I would rather have her hand cut off too.”

Jungkook tried to resume dragging you, but Jimin blocked his way with a soft smile. “What’s your name?”

“Y/N…”

“Do you know how to take care of a household?” Slowly, you nodded, melancholy engulfing you at the memory of cooking or sweeping the floor with your mother once upon a time. Somehow, she always found a way to make chores fun... “Then you qualify for the job. You’ll have three meals a day and a bed to sleep on. And you, maestro, a servant who’ll work her hardest, lest you fire her and she ends up in the streets again.”

Both you and Jungkook reluctantly glanced at each other. Truth be told, you didn’t prefer losing a hand to living with him, you just didn’t like him. Despite being a celebrity, he was a stranger. It just wouldn’t work.

But then, why were you holding your breath, hoping he’d accept?

“We shouldn’t have left Namjoon’s workshop. The marble is about to be delivered,” he said walking away. The air left your lungs in disappointment. It seemed you were to remain a stray cat. Jimin pressed his plump lips apologetically as he gave you enough coins to buy that bread, and you nodded, grateful all the same for his trying. You watched him rush to Jungkook’s side but when this one saw him, he turned around. “Hurry up, brat. If Taehyung gets that block of marble, I’ll not take you in.”

Since the first day, you could attest to Jeon Jungkook’s nature being as rough and uncouth as the rumours claimed, and after living alone with him for two months still believed gossip such as that he’d got the scar on his left cheek in a tavern fight—in which, if you’d chanced to be present, you would’ve rooted for the other individual.

It appeared it wasn’t just others Jungkook was harsh to. However rich his talent had turned him, he behaved like a poor man, consuming food and drink sparingly and out of necessity instead of pleasure, spending only the money required to live decently, sleeping little in order to work on commissions from dawn to midnight…

Why he chose to take little care of himself was a mystery to someone who previously had not been allowed a choice, even if putting work before all was in order to thwart Kim Taehyung’s plans of ruining his career, as he claimed. You doubted his rival was obsessed with him so, but had learned to agree with whatever Jungkook grumbled to avoid disputes. Most times.

Deep down, you had a feeling your boldness amused him. Who else dared get on his nerves?

“I think all you artists fluttering around the Pope are no more than slaves to money,” you let drop once while making his bed. Bam was sleeping peacefully under the window, while Jungkook leaning against the door’s frame behind you, offended to the core. He could help, you thought, or at least loosen my corset a little…

“I, a slave? I’ll be damned… There is an angel inside every block of marble, and I’ll have you know I carve to set it free.”

“Is it the angel that charges the Pope, then, master?” You could feel him barely restraining the urge to throw you out the window, smiled as you finished smoothing out the blankets.

“You missed a wrinkle there.”

Hands on your hips and frown on your brows, you examined the neatly arranged coverings of his bed. “Where?”

“On your face,” he muttered before making his leave.

Not his finest jibe, but the metaphor did stay with you. An angel inside the marble… It perhaps applied to Jungkook himself, though you’d never tell him.

One instance it came to mind was recently, when his assistants and apprentices were invited over for dinner.

Usually, he’d tell you which meals he liked and you’d ask at the marketplace which ingredients to buy, but now that about ten meals were to be cooked a list was needed. So there he sat on his desk in his study, inking said list as you waited in front of him, fiddling with the undershirt that peeked out of your dress’ sleeves. Given that your eyes were fixed on it, you only learned Jungkook was done when the sound of his quill scratching the paper ceased.

“Be back no later than dusk,” he ordered, “I bet there are still Germans and Spaniards lurking about.”

A year had passed since the Sack of Rome, but the mention of it sent a shiver of fear down your spine. Whatever the political reasons for it, you hated everyone involved, for Hell itself would’ve been a more beautiful sight to behold those nine months when the Tiber’s waters remained painted red…

You were lucky to make it through. Your family wasn’t.

“Yes, master.”

“Here,” he said handing you the paper, then picked another letter from a pile of correspondence he’d been going through before your arrival. Jungkook was about to snap its wax seal when he looked up to realise you hadn’t moved an inch. “Why are you here? Away with you!” He saw the reason in the way you avoided eye contact. “You can’t read, can you?” Met with a silence charged with embarrassment, he leaned back in his chair and sighed, “Give me the list.”

Getting hold of the quill again, Jungkook began… doodling?

You tilted your head but couldn’t see well what he was drawing until he finished and returned the list to you. Then, your lips parted. Each item on the list was illustrated next to its name: ten loaves of bread, a jug of wine, tortellini, four anchovies, two fennel soups…

“I’ll teach you to read when I have time. This will do for now.”

“You’d do that?” For me?

Jungkook ignored you, before he went back to reading his letters complimenting the good gesture with an irritated, “Hurry up.”

That night his co-workers arrived one by one, Jimin the first. The sight of him when you opened the door brightened up your mood.

Unlike a certain someone he was always sweet to you, genuinely interested to know how you fared even if you were just a servant. He claimed that mattered not to him, that you were both commoners and thus equals.

“Look at this place, it’s spotless! And you know I’m furtive, so I won’t get in your way,” you told Jimin as you escorted him through a hallway, bright from the torches hung on the walls that you’d lit up earlier.

He laughed, “I cannot make you my servant, Y/N, you’re maestro’s.”

“But he’s going to drive me mad… To tell you one of many examples, he often falls asleep in his clothes, and who but I is to take his boots off so they don’t get the sheets dirty? If the chalk on his fingers or the dust from the chiseling on his hair won’t already. Bam is far cleaner…”

Jungkook had a workshop he barely set foot in, preferred his team made use of it instead to not be bothered by their idiocy. His words. So it was in a chamber on the ground floor of this house he gave way to artistic insanity. In your book, that meant constant cleaning.

Jimin looked at you fondly. “Sounds nightmarish.”

“It truly is!”

As soon as the two of you entered the dining hall, Bam ran from Jungkook’s side by the fireplace to Jimin, who was as excited to see him.

“Good night, maes–”

“Do you think I’m deaf, ungrateful brat?” Jungkook interrupted him to bark at you. “Rome is full of people begging to get a piece of me, so if you don’t like it here, I’ll just get someone else!”

“You say that and yet keep me like a prisoner!”

“As if you don’t have it better here than anywhere you’ve burdened with your presence before!”

“There, there…” Jimin interjected to de-escalate, kneeling to better stroke Bam. “Maestro, I’ve seen your latest sketch of the Virgin and Child. She resembles Y/N.”

Both you and Jungkook failed to fight off the embarrassment, gazes unable to find a place to settle. Sitting down on the large table, he explained, “It was just one time… I had used Yoongi as a model, but the Madonna looked too masculine... and rather than going through the trouble of finding some girl and hiring her, I had Y/N pose for me… So what! Why bring it up out of nowhere…”

“Because maybe you just need a bit of distance from time to time. With permission, I too would have Y/N pose for m–”

“Absolutely not.”

“Now, why the hell not?” you groaned stamping your foot, startling poor Bam. Hope had been born inside you in a second and cruelly crushed in the next.

“Because I say so. And watch your tone with me.” As usual, the mutual glaring would trick anyone into thinking the next step would be murder. Jimin, who knelt there awkwardly, certainly thought so, at least until the bell rang. “Now go answer the door!”

What happened later, though, rendered the fury Jungkook had evoked in your heart nonexistent and instead seized the thing in a clasp of distress.

In the morning, he walked in when you were sweeping the kitchen. At once you forced the sobs to stop and turned around so he wouldn’t see you wipe your tears.

“It’s past nine, where’s breakfast?” he asked in shock that you hadn’t even started making it, the table there empty.

You swore under your breath before leaving the broomstick leaning against the nearest wall, flushed face kept out of Jungkook’s sight, then in a haste fetched a plate, a knife, and a leftover bread loaf. “Apologies, master, I forgot. I’ll be upstairs in a minute.”

Sniffling betrayed you, at which Jungkook frowned. “Are you crying?”

Great, the question just about especially designed to make one well up. Not trusting your voice anymore, you shook your head. Jungkook approached, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look away from the task at hand, now cutting a few slices of the bread.

“Have you broken something?” You shook your head again, the suppressed sobs making your chin tremble. Jungkook took a deep breath before asking with a surprisingly soothing tone, “Then what’s wrong?”

“You won’t believe me.”

“Try me.”

Within an hour, he’d summoned a meeting consisting of all who’d attended dinner the previous night.

A seemingly calm Jungkook was sat at the head of the table, elbows sunk on it and fingers interlocked. You stood behind him, head still low out of shame. A tense silence had fallen in the chamber some time ago, and sick of it, Jimin shattered it.

“Have you anything to tell us, maestro?”

“I was waiting for Biagio to do so.”

The man was one of Jungkook’s favourite assistants who had worked with him for years, even longer than Jimin. And if it was possible for your position to be trickier, he belonged to some noble family.

“Me? But I’ve nothing to say, maestro.”

Jungkook leaned back in his chair. “My servant will, then. Y/N?”

Bastard. If you are going to fire me, why make me go through this?

“Last night, w-when I left this hall to go refill the wine jug… Messer Biagio followed me into the kitchen, and… h-he trapped me from behind, and started t-to touch me…” Your vision soon blurred, hence why you couldn’t see clearly how concerned Jimin was for you, or how Biagio jumped up in outrage. “I managed to push him away, and ran upst–”

“How dare you slander me, wench? Maestro, you do not believe this!”

“Do I not?”

“She’s lying! I caught her stealing sketches from your study, likely to sell them, so she’s trying to get rid of me!”

You almost scoffed. Only an idiot would choose the one occasion guests had come over and her absence would be noticed to carry out a theft.

Jungkook tilted his head. “I thought you had nothing to say. Why would you keep such a thing just now?”

Biagio gulped. “I deemed it best to mention it later, in private... You won’t believe a pickpocket before an old friend, will you?”

Silence returned, your breath still as you saw all the assistants and apprentices visibly take pity on him. The only one who didn’t was Jimin, but even on his face there was a hint of hesitation. Jungkook’s, you couldn’t see from behind, but after an eternity he stood up and walked over only to put a hand on the shoulder of Biagio, who smiled in relief.

A quiet sob broke through your lips, heart sinking. You’d needed Jungkook to believe you in this. Not because of the consequences his protection as your master could save you from, but because, like it or not… he was the closest thing to family you had.

It turned out he did believe you, judging by the punch landed on Biagio’s jaw out of nowhere. And the next one on his cheekbone, and on his nose. Before everyone around the table had barely stood up to stop Jungkook, he’d already thrown Biagio down and straddled him, pulling his doublet’s collar in a close, tight grip as he continued beating him up. Blood was drawn, but for once, you didn’t mind having to scrub it later.

Jungkook’s influence trumped a whole noble house’s, you learned in the course of the months Biagio tried his mightiest and failed most miserably to have him arrested. Perhaps because of the Pope sitting on his shoulder.

That he’d taken your side was still hard to believe, all he’d grumbled with a shrug when you thanked him while tending to his wounds from the fight being, “I’d been waiting for the chance. I always thought Biagio was a weasel.”

With the matter resolved, life returned to normal—well, whatever that meant in Jeon Jungkook’s household. Because calling for you at the top of his lungs like a madman was not normal. The first time he’d done it you’d raced downstairs, afraid something horrible had happened, only for him to have you close a window as it was getting chilly. Devil rot him. You rushed no longer after that, much to his complaints.

Today, he didn’t notice right away when you appeared under the cased opening, and good thing he didn’t, for he was polishing a bust with sandpaper… shirtless.

Product of hours carving stone into his desired shape or occasionally beating someone up, he could brag of having muscles, which the current task had covered in a layer of sweat and dust. The way they flexed with each movement had you compelled, wanting to reach out, feel if his skin was as hot as the blood pumping through your veins faster and faster. Then your gaze moved to the bust and whatever spell you were under broke.

Hardly an angel was that widowed noblewoman, whom you wished had stayed trapped inside a block of marble. Her name was Madonna Maddalena, and she’d come some weeks past to make a commission covered in pearls, gold, and boldness.

“My friends refused to accompany me today. You’re said to be… disagreeable, which I’m sure is untrue. However, all of them do want to know if you’re as fine-looking as is also rumoured, maestro” she told Jungkook within minutes of meeting him, still by the entrance!

Now you can tell them he’s not, you bit your tongue before it remarked, as this wasn’t Jimin but a patron not to be scared away by your bickering. It wouldn’t be true anyway. All your master lacked in manners, he made up for with looks… Which you’d never say out loud. You’d never say either that he looked even better when irked.

“I’ve heard many rumours about myself, most of them nonsense. My appearance was involved in none.”

She smiled seductively. “I suppose I’ll have to be the one to spread them.”

“The weather is pleasant today,” Jungkook changed the subject, flustered beneath the formal demeanour. “Shall we have wine in the garden?” You left to prepare it not before catching Maddalena raise her brow at you in disapproval. She must’ve been able to tell you thought she was a pompous cunt.

The beautiful flowers you cared for tried their best outside, but the air didn’t get any better.

Sat around a small table, Maddalena explained she wanted a bust of herself by his talented hand to decorate the main hall of her palazzo. You served them wine, not really listening until Jungkook started playing hard to get. The hundred times you’d told him it wasn’t a good tactic to make his labour out to be too prestigious had apparently fallen on deaf ears.

“Any other artist could carry this out, Madonna. I am working for the Pope these days…” he subtly scolded her, a mere mortal, for wasting his precious time. And he wondered why he had a reputation for being arrogant.

Maddalena put his thoughts into plain words, “So why should you stoop to taking commissions from an insignificant widow?”

“Correct,” you said under your breath, luckily heard by none from the background, where you stood holding a wine jug until the madonna raised her cup and you approached to refill it.

“It is then fortunate I’m to marry a nephew of the Pope’s.”

Swayed by her future influence, Jungkook smiled back. “So it is.”

“But not for another week. ‘Till then, I belong to no man.” The suggestion in her tone almost drove you to spill wine all over her. No, better yet: order Bam to sic on her. He’d do it.

Just, who did this woman think she was? And why did Jungkook not kick her out right afterwards? It made you wonder whether he’d enjoyed the flirtation. Whether he would’ve been the one to take things further had his inconvenient servant not been present. It was common for men to have affairs and lovers, but it didn’t sit well with you that Jungkook might. Not that you ever imagined him doing any of that, for goodness’ sake–

“What took you so long?”

Jungkook’s voice brought you back to the present, under the cased opening.

“I was lazing about, as always,” you quoted his favourite false reprimand, making him roll his eyes, your own dropping to the floor when he walked closer.

“In that case, prepare a bath for me.”

“Yes, master.”

You sighed at all the work ahead. That being a servant was worlds better than living in the streets didn’t mean you looked forward to collecting gallons of water from a well, carrying them back, heating them, transferring them to a tub, then washing Jungkook—because you did wash him.

Biagio had hurt his left shoulder bad and ever since, he’d needed assistance in certain activities. Curious how he could otherwise chisel a goddamned bust without problem.

Jungkook’s full nudity only made you blush if you stopped scrubbing, so knelt with tucked up sleeves before the wooden tub he was reclined on, scrubbing away the dirt on his skin with lavender-scented soap you were. Maybe all the stupid feelings you’d been suffering lately stemmed from there…

Head resting on the edge, he was exhausted from the long day of work, taking your rubbing as a relaxing massage. You, however, couldn’t ignore the stinging guilt, what with the scar on his shoulder right in front of your face. He probably felt your breathing on it.

“I’m sorry you got hurt…”

Jungkook fought heavy lids only to see you avoid him. Allowing yourself to be vulnerable in front of him was embarrassing, as when he’d caught you crying, but he didn’t take advantage of the fact to humiliate you. Jungkook may be an ogre, but he wasn’t cruel.

“I’ve received worse for less,” he assured you in a calm, low voice. It sounded soothing to your ears.

“That, I don’t doubt,” you scoffed, glancing at his other scar on the cheek. “Did you also get that one in defence of some lady?”

“You’re nowhere close to a lady.” It could be done, you mused. Drowning him. “This was courtesy of my brother.”

“You have a brother?” It dawned on you how little you knew of him. Surely, most had heard it all about the divine Jeon Jungkook, but you’d never cared enough to learn past the shell of gossip, even after months of living with him. In fairness, he’d never asked about you either. You preferred it that way.

“Brothers,” he corrected you. “The one who did this to me was a wayward fool. Had to teach him a lesson.”

“Looks like he taught one to you.”

“I left with a scratch, he with a limp.” The conception of two brothers hurting each other so harshly widened your eyes for a second, and Jungkook noticed, for he added, “He was whoring around, wasting the money I worked hard to send, bullying our other brothers as well.”

Much made sense about Jungkook all of a sudden. Not his personality, that was incomprehensible. But why he killed himself to earn money and yet barely spent it… He had a family to provide for. Once again, you were reminded of his metaphor. Could an angel be in there?

Carrying on washing Jungkook, you dragged the sponge over to his neck. Then his collarbones, his chest, his abs just peaking above the water... They did look like a sculpture’s, especially wet and soaped, reminiscent of polished marble when the light of the torches reflected on them. Swallowing hard, the back of your fingers gingerly graced Jungkook’s muscles, both soft and firm. Slippery. Whatever possessed you to keep feeling them, you lacked the will to expel from your body, and so without realising your grip on the sponge loosened until it fell to float away, fingertips now free to roam over his abs.

You were slowly trailing downwards, past the water’s surface, when your wrist was seized and held in the air in a warning manner, the startle almost making you scream.

Sat upright, Jungkook was glaring at you so fiercely you feared for your life. But he didn’t say anything and instead just breathed hard, jaw clenched… almost as if he was holding back. Your rising heartbeat was deafening in the silence waiting for something to happen, anything, but what did wasn’t what a side of you anticipated with excitement.

Jungkook just let go of your wrist and returned to his previous position, and you got hold of the sponge and finished washing him, albeit holding your breath the entire time.

Days later, you came dangerously close to being fired.

The Pope had summoned Jungkook—something about a portrait commission—and you were to carry his bag filled with sketches for him due to his shoulder injury. As you navigated the ever-busy streets of Rome with him, the cold autumn breeze made you regret not putting on an overgown. The cioppa you’d bought with your own salary and not stolen. It brought a smile to your lips that faded at the realisation your mother would’ve reminded you to put it on before going out.

The sorrow pestering you turned to confusion when Jungkook stopped walking and tsked, telling you loud enough to be heard by all, “Look at him, the chief of police, with such an assemblage.”

A well-dressed man and what appeared to be his entourage walked in your direction, halting near enough. You didn’t have to ask to know this was his rival, the renowned painter Kim Taehyung.

“Whereas you, like an executioner, walk alone,” he mocked Jungkook, then noticed you standing behind him like a timid child. “Not completely, my mistake. Maestro, where in your barren soil did you plant such a flower?” He walked over to you, intentionally bumping Jungkook’s wounded shoulder as he passed, causing him to grunt lowly. From up close one was bound to marvel at how handsome Taehyung was, but you didn’t need proximity to tell he was a prick. Miles away, you would’ve known. “Why don’t you come work for me, flower? I’ll make you my muse.”

Jungkook scoffed again, “What, for your horseshit paintings? She’d be a fool to.”

Taehyung turned around to face him, feigning confusion with a smile. “But, maestro, how could they be so if you were once heard saying that all I have in art, I got from you?”

"You naturally have to resort to plagiarising my master’s genius if all you do is horseshit,” you countered, earning surprised looks from every man present, some laughs too, you were proud to say. Jungkook was certainly smirking. Taehyung opened his mouth, but you walked past him uninterested before a response came out of it.

“Good girl,” Jungkook laughed while leaving the crime scene, and for some reason your cheeks burned hot.

The incident happened once inside the Vatican.

Its grandiose corridors alone made you feel small, too unimportant to walk them, whereas Jungkook did so with determination, knowing he belonged at the top of the world. What with your tempestuous relationship, it was easy to forget he was famous throughout Europe. His feet would still never be kissed by you. Someone had to humble the man, right?

At some point the two of you arrived at a door flanked by guards, and averse, you grabbed the sleeve of Jungkook’s doublet.

“Do I have to go in?”

“Too good for the Pope, are you?” He shook you off. “Come on.”

“Damn you…” you muttered.

“What did you just say to me?”

“After you, master.”

Telling himself he’d be late if he scolded you, Jungkook turned and nodded at the guards, who opened the door of a chamber whose walls were frescoed with angels and saints, likely by Taehyung, giving off the impression one was in Heaven. When you saw him sat on a golden chair, old and grey, enjoying the tune of a lute player, you felt as though you’d just entered Hell.

The audience lasted for ever. While you stood by the door, Jungkook showed the Pope some sketches of the portrait for him to choose his favourite and then they talked and talked of politics. All you could do was fix your gaze somewhere on the floor and sigh.

“Yes, Your Holiness, this is the servant I mentioned…” A frown proceeded your looking up to see Jungkook somewhat embarrassed, scratching his nose as if to hide his face. He talked of you to others? Doubtless to complain…

With a sweet voice as if he was talking to a little girl, the Pope asked you, “What is your name?”

“None of your business, Your Holiness.”

The musician’s tune ceased abruptly, allowing Jungkook’s faint gasp to be heard. Then fell a short silence spent by the Pope blinking, taken aback. “I beg your pardon?”

“You heard me.”

Jungkook was quick to fake a laugh, though sweat formed at his temples. “A jest! She meant no offence, Your Holiness, but to make you laugh.”

You held the Pope’s glare in defiance, indifferent to the fact he was the most powerful man in the whole of Christendom.

By some miracle, he let it go, and you left that chamber minutes later with your head as yet attached to your body. Your arm wouldn’t be for much longer, though, given Jungkook was forcibly dragging you all the way out to the streets, pushing you into the first alley he saw.

“Are you out of your mind?!” he shouted, towering over you menacingly. Unlike the day you’d met, you weren’t scared, rather furious as him as you stood your ground. “That was the Pope, you fool!”

“So?”

Jungkook was in utter disbelief. “He could’ve ordered your execution– mine too!”

“Well, nothing happened!”

“Nothing?! I’m sure to fall out of favour!” He paced around, anxiety quickening his breath. “Years of pouring my soul into my craft, of grovelling before the right people, all thrown away! Good God, your attitude may cost me everything…”

“And what about me?! Everything lost to me does not matter?!”

Jungkook stopped to frown. “What the hell are you talking about?”

It was now you who walked up to him. “I didn’t have a job, or a reputation, or admirers. I had only a family, and I never wished for anything else! That monster you work for took them from me. When the foreigners’ armies came and everyone rushed to Castel Sant’Angelo, he gave the order to close the gates as soon as he was safe behind them! You must have been there with him, weren’t you? Well, we weren’t. We were left outside to be slaughtered. And I wish I had been, like my parents, so I didn’t have to suffer the likes of you any longer!”

Tears were streaming down your face by the end, Jungkook just staring back at you. It didn’t surprise him that your parents were dead or that they’d been killed during the Sack, but that it was so deep a wound left festering in your heart that you didn’t mind being put out of misery. He surmised your disrespectful behaviour towards him was also fruit of your pain, especially if you deemed him an ally of the one who caused it.

“The few things I own… They’re wasted on me. Throw them away or give them to your next servant,” you sobbed, taking for granted you were fired. Anyone with half a brain would indeed have you dismissed, and part of you knew it was bound to happen, that you would go back to breaking in fucking churches to spend the night.

So you turned around into the main street, set on wandering until your legs became too sore not to collapse. With any luck, a carriage would run over you. But warmth then surrounded your hand, and you looked down to see Jungkook’s holding it tight enough to force you to halt. Though still mad, a hint of compassion sparkled in his eyes.

“Let’s… Let us just go home.”

Home. His house had felt so for a while now, truth be told. Himself too.

After that, you non-verbally agreed on a ceasefire—avoiding quarrels, that is, which was quite the task for both.

Such as now that Jungkook had you inking down a letter in his name. First of all, did you look like a scribe? If you’d known in advance the lazy arse would teach you to read and write for this, you’d have chosen to remain illiterate. And second, this was your short break before making dinner, intended to be spent playing with Bam. The poor thing was also in the study, at least being stroked by his owner, who was sat beside you on the desk.

“… I send you my regards, may God keep you from all harm. Jeon Jungkook in Rome,” he finally finished dictating, and you recording. “Give it to me, I’ll seal it.”

He was melting the wax with which to do so when the bell rang, to his surprise. Sighing, you stood up and went to open the door to whom turned out to be Jimin. The sight of him brightened you up, and yours stretched his lips into a smile.

“Evening, Y/N.”

“Good evening! I didn’t know the master was expecting you.”

“He isn’t…” You welcomed him in, brows joining at how he continuously chewed on his aforementioned lip and breathed deep through his nose as he followed you. Had something happened…? A decision to eavesdrop was made en route to the study.

Though Jimin requested for you to stay once there, and nothing could have prepared you for the reason why.

“This actually concerns Y/N…” You and Jungkook exchanged confused looks, him leaning against the desk and crossing arms as though he didn’t like the sound of that. Jimin fixed his already perfect clothes before addressing him, “I’ve come to ask for her hand in marriage.” Your jaw dropped. “I know it’s sudden at the lack of previous courtship, but I thought I should ask for your permission before engaging in it, maestro. She’s a lovely girl… and I think she’d be happy as my wife. Worry not, I won’t ask for a dowry or for her to stop working… Although on second thought, fewer hours of service would be ideal.”

This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be happening.

Jungkook must be thinking the same, for he squinted to ask, “Are you drunk?”

“N-No, of course not.”

“Are you sure? You want to marry a servant with little to her name.” He had a point, so you weren’t offended. If politics weren’t the reason for a union, did this mean… Jimin had feelings for you?

“Maestro, you say it as if I were a lord,” he chuckled. “I don’t care about Y/N’s possessions, I’ll provide for her anyway. I’ve… always been fond of her. And I dare say she shares the sentiment.”

Betrayal hid safely behind a look that asked if there was any truth to that. Obviously not! There was no romance in your own fondness for Jimin. If anything, you had thought he saw you as a younger sister to look after, therefore as a protective older brother you saw him. But so shocked were you still that no words managed to come out, and Jungkook’s gaze shifted back to Jimin.

“I’ll think about it. You may go.”

A curt tone was the norm for Jungkook, it was not being granted his blessing that disappointed Jimin. He knew for a fact he was an honourable man, so why wouldn't he entrust you to him?

“Quite well… I’ll show myself out.” he uttered, before making his leave failing to hide his low spirit by giving you one last shy smile you hadn’t the heart to return.

An awkward silence filled the air that even Bam daren’t break. Only once the front door was heard shutting did you walk closer to Jungkook.

“You won’t agree to this, will you?”

“Why shouldn’t I? I have to get rid of you at some point.”

“Rid of me? Like I’m a burden?” you asked, voice rising. How a servant could be so was unknown to you until, like wooden ship toys did when you’d submerge them in a bucket of water as a child, certain guesses surfaced in your thoughts. Trying to pickpocket him, the constant clashing, Biagio, that bath, the Pope… Yes, you may perhaps be described as a burden. But you didn’t want to leave. With a calmer tone, you pleaded, “I’ll behave from now on. I won’t cause any more trouble, I swear.”

Jungkook didn’t deign to look your way as he left, followed by Bam. “You have to marry at some point, Y/N. Otherwise people will gossip.”

Since when did he care about what people said of him? And why should you?

Winter having dropped its anchor, nightfall arrived early. Not early enough, you brooded as you cooked dinner, longing for the day to end once and for all. With any hope, all of this was a nightmare and upon waking up in the morning life would go back to normal. You didn’t even know why you wanted to stay with Jungkook, as the occasions in which you’d begged Jimin to employ you to leave this house were countless. The only certain thing was that you were upset.

Later, after washing all plates and cups, you began to put off all torches lighting the house, finding out in the hall that Jungkook hadn’t moved from the seat he’d dined in. You considered carrying on with your job and leaving him in the dark, but he wouldn’t find it as funny. Instead, you stood before him.

“Will that be all, master?”

The coldness in your expression made him sigh, “Y/N–”

“I shall retire, then.” You turned to leave but were made to stop in your tracks.

“It’s an advantageous proposal for you,” he lectured to whom he must believe an idiot. “Jimin works for me, he’s wealthy. A better match than you could ever aspire to. And he asks for no dowry because he doesn’t want money, he wants you…” His words were tainted with resentment. “He’ll take good care of you.”

Skirt of your dress swirling along, you faked a smile. “If you think so, master, then it must be so.”

He shook his head as he leaned back in defeat. “Suit yourself, but I won’t be the one to reject Jimin. You crush his heart.”

A laugh escaped you. “If you genuinely cared about him, you wouldn’t let him marry a woman in love with–” Oh no. It only hit you as you were saying it.

Jungkook had appeared annoyed, but now he was mad. “Who?” He stood up abruptly—chair’s feet scratching against the floor making you wince—and walked so close you were backed against the wall, face forced to turn to a side. In a low, deep voice, he repeated, less as a question and more as an order this time, “Who.”

There was no way in the nine circles of Hell you’d say it, when you didn’t want to believe it in the first place. For fuck’s sake, why? Jungkook only ever made you want to get away from him. That was the case right now, but then… why were your feet frozen?

Some unreasonable part of you seemed to have prevailed upon the others, casting away all resistance from your body and allowing yourself to indulge in Jungkook’s proximity. You met his eyes without fear, held his dark gaze. It didn’t take him long to work it out, yet he kept close, so close your unsteady breaths mingled, the effect akin to intoxication. He was visibly trying to hold back, telling himself it’d be a bad idea, but you prayed he wouldn’t care.

By God or the Devil, your prayers were heard.

Jungkook finally smashed his lips into yours, devouring them with a hunger you shared and felt growing as he gripped your waist to press you against him. A minute ago, you wouldn’t have imagined his tongue belonged inside your mouth, swirling around your own, and now you wanted it all over your body. As if reading your mind, Jungkook broke the ardent kiss to move down to your neck, which he licked painfully slowly before sucking hard, making you hiss with pleasure. He knew that would leave a mark, the bastard. You wondered if it was meant for Jimin, so he’d see you were Jungkook’s, and in such case you didn’t mind, let your eyelids close to enjoy it.

Steered by the lust possessing you, one hand grabbed his soft hair in a fistful, keeping his head in place where he was sweetly abusing your neck, while the other travelled southwards until it reached his crotch and held it over the trousers, feeling his cock stiffen. Jungkook groaned—a vibration to your skin—in retaliation lifting your skirt. You’d thought he'd take his time, tease you, but after ensuring you were wet enough by gliding his middle finger along your core, he slid it inside and began making beckoning motions.

“Master…” you moaned, legs shaking. Jungkook forsook your neck to pull back, watch how you struggled to keep it together as he added another finger, curling and uncurling them both, hitting all the right places, and unwilling to give him that satisfaction without consequences you groped his erection with the same vigour. Although he was in good control of his expression, his breath quivered against your lips, so he kissed them again, biting hard into your lower one.

He exhaled, “You’re driving me to sin…”

Indeed, the same fingers that held the brushes when he painted religious artwork were buried deep inside your cunt, bringing you the most sinful ecstasy. It made you chuckle. Jungkook took that as the mockery it was and, crossed, pulled his fingers out of you to drag you by the arm to the edge of the table, where he had you sit. Without delay he lifted your skirt again, only this time he also pulled down his trousers to reveal his cock, thick and throbbing, which he pumped as he watched you spread your legs eagerly, ready to take all of him.

With his free hand Jungkook cupped your cheek, thumb caressing your lower lip, coated with saliva and reddened still from when he’d bit it. He could sense your desire, that you craved him inside, had for a while. Desperately. And however much tempted he was to make you beg for it, his own arousal led his cock to your entrance and eased it inside already, another groan hitting the back of his bared teeth. You didn’t have time to gasp, his thrusts so quick they earned only moans, so wonderful did it feel.

Jungkook’s hand on your cheek then wrapped around your neck. “Do you know how often I’ve fantasised strangling you?”

You chuckled again as you slapped him across the face. Jungkook halted his movements in shock, glared at you. “And I slapping you?”

It took him a moment, but he scoffed and pushed you back so that you were lying down, climbing next atop you, confident that the wooden table was sturdy enough to hold both. So legs hooked around his torso and arms around his neck, you welcomed his thrusts, rough enough to make your eyes water. But it felt heavenly, how he ravished you... The mutual irritation and tension building up for over half a year translated into indescribable pleasure.

He kissed you again, flicking his tongue against yours as he pounded into you without mercy. Overwhelmed by the sensation, all you could do to express you were nearing your limit was sink your nails into Jungkook’s biceps at each side of you, moan inside his mouth. He took the hint and fucked you as fast as his body would allow, within mere seconds your walls clenching tight around him. The sight of you collapsing under him, overcome with bliss, made him reach his own highest shortly, spurting his warm seed inside you.

As his movements gradually ceased, so did your panting. Before a complete silence fell, you asked, “Am I still to marry Jimin?”