Favourites With Friends! - Childe

(Taehyung and Y/n in the middle of a fight)

Y/n: just take your things and leave

Taehyung: fine

Taehyung: *picks up Y/n and leaves*

The Story of Us

Pairing: Mahwa Character!Min Yoongi x Reader

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

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

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

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

“Does self-love mean nothing for you?”

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

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

“Are you not going to buy that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She said that reading this will change your life.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Holy shit.

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

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

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

What the fuck was this dream?!

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

You were just dreaming…right?

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

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

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

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

“N-no. Why?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

1…2…3-

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

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

Too bad you were trying to stay alive.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She’s the most important woman in my life.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This was it.

This was the moment.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But here he was, his focus entirely on you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Maybe…I’d go to Paris?”

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

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

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

“We must stop meeting like this.”

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

Who was he exactly?

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

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

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

“What?”

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

“What are you saying, Taehyung?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

I am hiring a team to find you, princess.

His final message was dated today.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Going somewhere?”

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

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

“I-I mean, I didn’t think you’d notice,” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper, already regretting how ridiculous it sounded.

“What? How could I not? You literally disappeared on the face of the earth. You think I wouldn’t notice when you disappeared? When you’re not there?”

The intensity in his gaze left you momentarily stunned, your thoughts scrambling for coherence. “Y-you’re not supposed to be here…” you muttered, more to yourself than to him. Your disbelief bled into your words, your mind struggling to reconcile his presence with what you knew—or thought you knew. “The story says you’re supposed to be with her. This isn’t—this isn’t how it goes.”

“What story?”

You blinked owlishly, realizing what you’d said. “Huh? Nothing!” you exclaimed a little too quickly, waving your hands as if to physically push the moment away. “Anyway! Happy birthday!” you added, your voice unnaturally bright, hoping to distract him.

His squint deepened, a mix of curiosity and frustration flickering in his eyes. He clearly didn’t buy your deflection, but he let it slide—for now. Without a word, he crossed the room to the small bar cart in the corner, casually pouring himself a glass of whisky.

The tension in the air was thick as he swirled the amber liquid in the glass, his movements deliberate. He raised the glass to his lips, his gaze never leaving yours. You could practically see the wheels turning in that intelligent brain of his as he sized you up. After taking a slow sip, he finally spoke, his voice low, “Glad you remember my birthday, princess.”

Okay, fine. You were at loss. How were you supposed to know what you should say? This was not in the manhwa! Yoongi was basically going off-script!

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. Instead, you turned your gaze to the door, silently willing him to leave. But Yoongi didn’t move. If anything, he seemed more determined, his presence as unyielding as ever.

“Fine,” he said after a long moment, his voice quieter now, almost resigned. “If you won’t come back, then I’ll stay. Paris is nice this time of year, isn’t it?”

He stuck by you like a shadow and he all but bought the entire hotel floor. He was adamant on spending every moment with you. The most baffling part? He still kept in touch with her. He called, he texted, he checked in on the female lead—but here he was, right beside you, refusing to leave. It made no sense. To add confusion to the mix, Yoongi kept on shooting dark glares at your phone whenever it chimed from Taehyung’s messages and he felt himself getting irritated. He wondered who was brave enough to message you when no one used to before except him.

You had been away for him for just a short time and yet, he felt like you were so far away already, like something shifted, like your entirety changed. It was like you were not the best friend he used to have.

You looked down at your phone as soon as it chimed again and you couldn’t help but chuckled at the silly selfie he took with a duck. You were too engrossed in your phone that you missed the way Yoongi gripped his utensils. You and him hadn’t spent time together since you were so busy evading him and now that he finally caught up with you, your attention was somewhere else.

Why were your attention not on him?

Who was stealing your attention away from him?!

Was this how you punished him because of his current fling?

The sound of Yoongi’s sharp exhale pierced the air, and you glanced up just in time to see his fingers grip the edge of his glass with more force than was necessary. His jaw was tight, his eyes narrowed—not at the phone in your hand, but at you. He didn’t say anything, but the silence between you both was thick with something unspoken, a tension you had been drowning in since he followed you here.

It wasn’t that you wanted to ignore him, but the truth was... you didn’t know how to deal with this version of Yoongi. The one who wasn’t following the script. The one who was here in Paris, beside you, watching you laugh at Taehyung's ridiculous duck selfie like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“What’s so funny?” Yoongi’s voice was quiet, but it was sharp. He didn’t bother to look at your phone. Instead, his gaze stayed locked on your face, his eyes a shade darker, deeper than you remembered them being.

You blinked, momentarily stunned by the sudden shift in his mood. “Oh, nothing, just a ridiculous selfie from my friend,” you said, still chuckling to yourself. “He’s with a duck.”

“He?” His voice held a dry amusement, but there was an edge to it that made you uncomfortable.

You could feel the subtle tension thickening in the air, like the weight of a storm about to break. Yoongi's question hung between you like a spark in dry tinder. You shrugged, pretending to be casual, though the hairs on the back of your neck stood on end. "Yes, he. My friend Taehyung," you said, not looking up from your phone.

But you could feel Yoongi’s eyes boring into you, every syllable of his next words like a tightening coil. “Taehyung,” he repeated, his voice cold and deliberate, as though testing the name on his tongue. His grip on his glass had tightened to the point where his knuckles were white, but it didn’t stop the slow, calculated sip he took, his gaze never leaving you.

The way he said his name made it seemed like your friendship with him was a mistake, a simple blunder on your end that shouldn’t have happened. It did feel like you stepped on a live mine, and you wondered why you were feeling like this when from what you knew about his character in the manhwa, Yoongi was a pure person. However, right now he felt like a dangerous one.

What were you supposed to do?

“You’re thirty now,” you said instead, steering the conversation away from an unfamiliar territory as you placed the phone facedown. The two of you were having brunch in a famous restaurant and you were thoroughly enjoying the croissant moments before the conversation turned sour.

He regarded you for a moment, fully aware of how you this was your sad attempt at changing the subject until he decided to put you out of misery. He nodded, waiting for you to make your point.

“You’re not getting any younger-”

He raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. “What’s the point of this conversation, princess? You’re starting to sound like my grandma." He paused, as if savoring the thought. "By the way, she keeps asking for you. Says, and I quote, ‘her favorite grandchild never comes to visit anymore.’ Not even a phone call. Meanwhile, I’m still here, the actual grandchild, and I get nothing."

His glare was sharp, but there was no real venom behind it—just the familiar teasing edge that made you both roll your eyes and laugh, despite yourself.

“W-well! I’m just concerned that you won’t have a wife and any children of your own and that you’d grow old alone! I’m just a friend expressing concern over her best and oldest friend…” you rationalized. Fine, you were having fun teasing him while nudging him in the right direction. Yoongi was fun to mess with, you thought, if he was being himself and not the confusing and quite off-putting mood he was in a while ago.

You thought that he would react the way you anticipated him to, that he would get defensive and after which, hopefully, that he’d go back to their love story.

He did none of those things.

Instead, Yoongi leaned in, his manly scent permeating. He tucked a stray strand of your hair behind your ear, all while looking at you. “Why are you saying that I’ll be alone when I have you?”

You blinked, trying to process what Yoongi had just said. His voice, low and warm, carried a weight that wasn’t there a moment ago. You wanted to laugh, to brush it off like the teasing banter you two always shared, but the way his dark eyes held yours made it impossible. “I have you for always, right, princess? You’re not going to leave me for someone…beneath us, right?”

What?

His words seemed like he was pointing to another thing, like what he was asking you was a promise to be set in stone and not a mere assurance on his part. What was the real second female lead to say in situation like this?

“O-of course! We’re best friends! N-now let’s get out of here. I saw this beautiful necklace in that shop. It’s going to look beautiful on her. Maybe if you buy her that, then she’d forgive you for spending your birthday away from her,” you joked to deflect him, standing up and gathering your purse to escape the situation you found yourself in before he could even blink.

Think, Y/N. Think.

You gripped the stem of your wine glass, staring blankly at the flickering candle in the center of the table. The plot was veering off course, drifting further from the original narrative you knew by heart. Yoongi wasn’t supposed to be here with you, his steady presence upending the delicate balance of the story.

The main lead wasn’t supposed to stay by your side like this

Across the room, Yoongi was speaking with one of his father’s acquaintances, his posture relaxed but exuding the quiet authority that came so naturally to him. It gave you a few precious moments to breathe—and to think.

Ever since Paris, Yoongi almost never let you out of his sight. He would spend every free time of his with you. You couldn’t even refuse because he would get so suspicious. His best friend never said no to him, he knew that. Your previous actions of distancing yourself from him resulted in him latching on to you. What could you do to push him in the right direction which was to be with her?

What was the next canon event?

And then it hit you.

The company gala. The turning point. That was when he would bring her, the female lead, into the lion’s den. His family’s icy disapproval, their sharp-edged words of disdain, and their outright rejection of his choice would culminate in a dramatic declaration. Yoongi would stand by her side, rebel against his family, and announce that she was the one he wanted to marry.

It was a pivotal scene. A non-negotiable in the grand arc of his story.

You exhaled shakily. If you could just steer him toward that event, everything will fall back into place. You just needed to figure out when it was happening now that the timeline was unraveling in ways you couldn’t predict.

You just had another problem, though. The man that was now walking back to you was acting like someone who had his heart set on another, so unlike the Min Yoongi from the manhwa who only had eyes for her. His attention was unwavering, but it should not have been pointed to you but to her. The way his gaze softened whenever he looked at you, his refusal to leave your side—it was all wrong. None of it fit.

“Sorry about that,” Yoongi’s voice broke through your thoughts as he returned to the table. He slid back into his seat, his sharp eyes scanning your face. “You okay? You look… distracted.”

You forced a smile, waving a hand dismissively. “I’m fine. Just lost in thought.”

“About what?” He tilted his head, genuinely curious, and the warmth in his gaze made your stomach twist. He did hope that your attention was not being diverted by someone he didn’t even want to mention. He couldn’t even understand why the thought of you with someone else didn’t sit right with him. He couldn’t understand why he had this urge to remove the pest away from you.

“Doesn’t you company have an annual gala? I was thinking of what to wear. When is it again?” you asked, taking a sip of your drink to hide your nerves.

He was looking at you as though deep in thought, as though you were forgetting something. He tilted his head to the side, “You know it’s always in December. You always choose your dress a year in advance, princess,” Yoongi said, his voice laced with mild curiosity. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as he studied you. “Why? You’ve never been one to care much about those kinds of things before.”

Your breath caught at his words. You always choose your dress a year in advance, princess. The familiarity, the ease with which he said it, threw you off. That line—it didn’t belong here. Not in this timeline. Not in this version of the story where your role was supposed to be temporary, a placeholder in the grand narrative between him and her.

“Right,” you said, forcing a light laugh that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Guess I forgot for a moment. Been busy, you know.”

Yoongi didn’t buy it. His gaze sharpened, a hint of amusement mingled with curiosity. “You? Forget? That’s not like you.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, his posture relaxed but his eyes piercing. “What’s really going on?”

The intensity in his gaze made your stomach twist again. Stay calm. Don’t let him see.

“Nothing’s going on,” you said, a touch too quickly. You took another sip of your drink, using the motion to avoid his eyes.

“Anyway, December’s coming up fast, and I’m guessing you’re planning to bring her, right?” You kept your tone light, as if the question didn’t weigh heavily on your chest.

Yoongi’s expression shifted, the smirk fading as his brows furrowed slightly. “Her?”

You swallowed hard. “You know… the one you’ve been calling and texting all the time.” You gestured vaguely, hoping to seem indifferent. “The woman you’ve been—well, I thought you were planning to introduce her to your family at the gala.”

Yoongi smiled again, but this time, it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Let’s see, princess.”

“Admit that you had fun,” Taehyung teased you as he drove you home.

You couldn’t help the smile that crept across your lips. Against all odds, you’d genuinely enjoyed yourself. You did have fun. You always thought that movie dates were boring and full of cliché, but not with him. With Taehyung, everything felt effortless—light and uncomplicated, like breathing.

“Fine,” you conceded with mock reluctance, your tone carrying the weight of faux irritation. “It was a fun…”

“Date,” he finished smoothly, his eyes glinting with amusement as your voice trailed off.

Your cheeks burned at his audacity, the straightforwardness of the word stealing your ability to respond for a moment. A "date"? Could you even call it that? The way your heart fluttered betrayed any argument you might have tried to form.

You glanced away, fidgeting with the strap of your bag as thoughts tangled in your mind. Was it okay to feel this way? To bask in fleeting moments of happiness when the life you were living wasn’t truly yours? When you were still determined to set things right, to restore the balance of a narrative that had gone astray?

So caught up in your musings, you barely noticed the car slowing to a stop in the estate’s driveway. The towering grand doors loomed ahead, a stark reminder of the world you’d return to the moment you stepped out.

“Thank you,” Taehyung’s voice pulled you from your thoughts. It was quiet, genuine, and when you turned to look at him, his face was softer than you’d ever seen it.

“For what?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“For being here,” he replied simply, his gaze holding yours.

The weight of his sincerity pressed against your chest, making it harder to breathe. Before you could respond, he leaned in, closing the distance between you. The world seemed to slow as his hand moved to cup your face, his fingers brushing against your skin with a tenderness that made your heart stutter.

Your breaths mingled, your eyes fluttering shut as his lips hovered so close to yours it was almost unbearable. You could feel the moment hanging on a fragile thread, teetering on the edge of something irreversible.

The room’s golden hues seemed to dim as the sound of the car horn echoed through the driveway, shattering the fragile intimacy between you and Taehyung. You jolted back, your heart pounding in your chest as if caught in an act of betrayal—though you hadn’t technically done anything wrong. Yet.

Taehyung sighed, his expression softening as he glanced toward the car behind him. “Looks like your knight in shining armor doesn’t know how to wait,” he said lightly, though there was a hint of tension in his voice.

You managed a shaky laugh, your hand gripping the strap of your bag tightly. “He’s just… overprotective.”

“Right,” Taehyung said, leaning back in his seat. His eyes met yours, warm and understanding, but with a flicker of something else—something that made your chest tighten. “Still, I meant what I said. Thanks for tonight.”

Before you could respond, the honk came again, sharper this time, as if Yoongi were making a point. You turned to glance at his car, the sleek black exterior glinting under the estate’s lights. Even from this distance, you could feel his piercing gaze locked on you.

“Goodnight, Taehyung,” you said hurriedly, fumbling with the door handle.

Taehyung smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes this time. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

You stepped out of the car and started toward the grand door, the cold evening air biting at your skin. Yoongi’s car door slammed shut behind you, and the sound of his footsteps was a quiet storm approaching. You didn’t dare look back, your heart a riot of guilt, frustration, and confusion.

“Princess,” Yoongi’s voice cut through the quiet, smooth and controlled, but laced with an edge you couldn’t ignore.

You stopped in your tracks, turning slowly to face him. He was already close, his dark eyes scanning your face like a puzzle he couldn’t quite solve. His suit was immaculate, as always, but there was an undercurrent of tension in his posture—shoulders just a little too stiff, jaw a little too tight.

“You’re back late,” he said, his tone deceptively casual.

“I went to see a movie with Taehyung,” you replied, keeping your voice neutral.

At the mention of Taehyung, Yoongi’s gaze flicked past you to the car that was now idling at the end of the driveway. You followed his line of sight and felt a pang of unease as his expression shifted. His brows raised slightly as he studied Taehyung through the window, his head tilting just enough to convey an air of quiet disdain.

And then he smirked—a slow, deliberate curl of his lips that sent an unfamiliar shiver down your spine. It wasn’t the Yoongi you were used to seeing. In that moment, he was something else entirely: sharp, commanding, almost cruel. The kind of presence that demanded submission without a word.

“What did you say his last name was, princess?” he asked, still watching Taehyung with that same unsettling smirk. His tone was light, but there was something in it—something dark—that made your heart beat faster.

“Kim?” you replied thoughtlessly, your mind too preoccupied with wanting to escape the tension. “Why did you ask?”

Finally, he turned his attention back to you, his gaze softening just enough to make the moment feel surreal. The shift was so subtle, so practiced, that it left you second-guessing the sharpness you’d just seen. He reached out, his arm sliding around your shoulders with an ease that felt both natural and calculated.

“No reason, princess,” he said smoothly, steering you toward the grand doors of the estate. “Just… curious.”

The warmth of his arm contrasted sharply with the coldness that lingered in the air. It was disarming, the way he could shift so easily between roles—between the man you knew and the one you weren’t sure you ever wanted to meet again.

As he guided you inside, you cast one last glance over your shoulder. Taehyung’s car hadn’t moved, the figure inside still watching. You couldn’t see his face, but you imagined the tension mirrored your own.

When the doors shut behind you, the weight of Yoongi’s presence beside you grew heavier. His hand rested lightly against your shoulder, his touch far gentler than the unease simmering just beneath the surface.

"Don’t you have better things to do than come to my dress fitting? Like, I don’t know, actually run your empire or something?" you asked, stepping out of the fitting room with a huff.

Yoongi sat sprawled on the plush sofa, one arm draped lazily along the backrest, a glass of champagne balanced effortlessly in his other hand. He looked utterly at ease, as if this boutique was his second home and not a place he had followed you to.

He shrugged, “Well, we can’t have you running away from me again, can we?”

“For the last time, I didn’t run away! I was in Paris because croissant sounded nice that day-”

“Sure, princess,” he agreed condescendingly. Yoongi’s gaze swept over you, lingering a moment longer than you expected. “On the other hand, you look immaculate in that dress,” he said, his voice low and smooth. “You’re going to make the rest of the gala feel underdressed.”

Heat crept up your neck at his words, but you quickly masked it with a scoff. “Flattery doesn’t suit you, Yoongi. Save it for the boardroom or—better yet—for her.”

He raised an eyebrow, swirling the champagne in his glass as if you hadn’t just tried to divert the conversation. “Her?” he echoed, tilting his head with mock curiosity.

You rolled your eyes, refusing to meet his gaze. “Yes, her. The one you met in the previous ball? The waitress? The one you’ll be introducing to your family at the gala, remember? Does she ring a bell?”

“We’re still talking about that?” Yoongi asked, his tone laced with amusement as he leaned back into the plush sofa. The glass of champagne in his hand tilted slightly, catching the light as he swirled the golden liquid. “Why are you so invested in my relationship with her?”

“I’m just concerned and curious as a friend.”

He chuckled softly, setting his glass down on the table beside him. “Curious, huh? And here I thought you were just jealous.”

Your eyes widened in disbelief. “Jealous?”

Yoongi leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees, his gaze never leaving yours. “You keep bringing her up. You’re obsessed with the idea of me introducing her to my family, of me texting her. You sure this isn’t just about you not wanting to share me?”

Your face burned, and you turned away, pretending to adjust the dress in the mirror. “You’re ridiculous and I refuse to discuss this further,” you muttered. “I’m going to buy this!” You announced before stalking back to the fitting room to avoid wondering about why your heart was skipping a beat and why you shouldn’t venture into that.

You were huffing as you tried to reach for the zipper behind you when the curtain suddenly opened and Yoongi stepped in, making the room felt impossibly small. You instinctively turned your back to him, clutching at the unzipped dress as though a protection against whatever this was.

“What are you doing here?!”

Yoongi leaned casually against the side of the fitting room, his smirk firmly in place. “Helping you, obviously,” he said as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“I don’t need your help!” you snapped, tugging at the zipper yourself but struggling to reach it.

“Doesn’t look like it,” he said smoothly, taking a step closer. His fingers brushed against yours as he gently moved your hand away. “Relax, princess. I’ll take care of it.”

You froze, your heart pounding as his hands moved to the zipper. His touch was surprisingly delicate, his fingers grazing your back as he carefully pulled the zipper up. The sound of the zipper seemed deafening in the silence.

“There,” he said softly, his voice low and close to your ear. “All done.”

You were about to turn around when he stopped you. You met his dark eyes through the mirror, and the intensity in his gaze held you captive. His hands lingered lightly on your shoulders, warm against the smooth fabric of the dress. There was something unreadable in his expression—a mix of curiosity, amusement, and something far deeper that you couldn’t quite name.

“You’re very beautiful, princess. Do you know that?” he whispered, resting his chin on your delicate shoulder.

“Yoongi, what are you doing?”

He was quiet for a moment as though in contemplation whether to say what he wanted to say. Like in the manhwa, Yoongi was calculating. He never did anything without a reason, one of which would benefit him. “I had a nightmare the night after the ball,” he finally confessed, his voice low and almost distant, as if recalling something that lingered in his mind. “We were on the yacht. I think it was a party. You were there… She was there. I was there. And the yacht… it slammed into a rock. The two of you were thrown off.”

If he felt your body went rigid, he didn’t mention. He never broke eye contact, his arms around your waist as he told you of his dream. The one exactly what happened in the manhwa– the one where the main lead chose to save the main female lead first, only to find out the it was already late for the second female lead.

His body was so close that you could feel the slight tremble in his arms as he spoke, his fingers grazing your waist with the same careful intensity.

You met his gaze in the mirror again, and something twisted in your stomach. There was an almost predatory look in his eyes, but there was something else too—something far more vulnerable, raw. He didn’t break eye contact, and his grip on you tightened just slightly, as though he wanted to hold on, as though he was afraid you’d slip away.

“In my dream,” he continued, his voice barely a whisper, “I saw you die because I saved her first. It felt so real, like I was remembering something that already happened.” He paused, and you felt the weight of his words sink in. “Why would I save her first when I know I can’t lose you?”

 “It’s just a dream…” you tried to console him. How could he remember something that happened in the ending? Was the barrier between the characters and the plot weakening? What was changing? And how could you go back to your own world when he was holding onto you so tight as though if he looked away, you’d disappear?

“It is, right? It’s not going to happen... I’ll make sure of it.”

December came.

It was the month you were both dreading and anticipating. You were almost at the end of the story, and so far, you did your absolute best to let their love story unfold without a second female lead antagonizing it. You did your part by staying away from them. One problem though, the male lead was not acting like he was written in the manhwa. He was not acting like a man in love should be to her. Instead, he was out there sticking to you like

It was safe to say that Min Yoongi went rouge.

You did not know what to expect in the annual gala. You no longer have the upper hand. You were in the blind as though you were a real character and no longer a reader. You feared that the longer you stayed in this fictional world, the more likely that you’d be incorporated in the story and no longer as a second female lead that could just easily disappear.

You needed answers on how to escape from this fictional world. Answers eluded you. Worse still, so did the only person who seemed to see you for who you were. Taehyung. Since that night, not once did Taehyung answer you calls nor respond to your numerous messages. You tried asking your trusted staff about him, but even they were mummed. It was only your closest maid who whispered to you what transpired and how Taehyung’s budding business empire had crumbled overnight, crushed under the weight of lawsuits—tax evasion, fraud, and other accusations you couldn’t fathom. The news left you hollow. You hadn’t seen this coming. The man who had been your one source of normalcy, the one who made you feel like a real person instead of a pawn in someone else’s story, had disappeared into the shadows of scandal. You thought to yourself that maybe you really didn’t know him at all and that it was best to just focus on how to once and for all, leave this universe.

But who could you ask?

You continued anxiously tapping your heels on the marbled flooring, observing the guests. You were in the corner, trying to hide in the shadows so you could freely look for her. He would be bringing her, right?

Where is she?

Your eyes scanned the room again, trying to keep your presence hidden in the shadows. The guests were mingling, lost in the glitter of conversation and champagne. Laughter bubbled up in the air, but none of it felt real. Not like it should have. None of this was real, in fact. This was a fictional world where you were stuck in.

You wondered what would happen if you stopped playing her role. But before you could dwell on that thought, the door opened again, and you stiffened. You were expecting to see the main female lead, yet instead, it was Yoongi. The man of the hour. He entered the room and all the guests he passed greeted and congratulated him for setting another record in his empire, yet his eyes always returned to you. Where was she? This was not supposed to be like this. Yet, you knew in the back of your mind that something integral changed. You were in denial about how you no longer had control over this, that you might as well be truly in the story now, no longer an observer, no longer able to hide behind the pages of the manhwa.

You stepped back involuntarily, no longer feeling the courage you had faked for so long. You lost control. You had to find a way out. However, when you slipped away and turned the corner, you bumped into an old, yet dignified woman. You bowed in apologies when it dawned upon you.

You have seen her before.

Slowly, your eyes lifted to hers. You knew her. She was the woman who gave you the manhwa… How was she in this world?!

Your mouth hanged agape as the corner of her lips lifted, her eyes crinkling when she saw the dawn of recognition on her face. “I told you reading it will change your mind.”

“It’s you,” you whispered, taking an unsteady step back. Your eyes darted over her, as if trying to piece together a puzzle that didn’t belong in this world. “H-how… How are you here? What’s going on? Y-you have to help me. Why am I here? How can I leave?!”

She studied you for a moment, her gaze steady, unreadable. “You’re here because someone wants you here, dear.”

“I don’t want to be here! I want to go back.”

Her head tilted slightly, her calm demeanor unwavering. “But why? What do you have in your old life that you so desperately want to return to? Aren’t you alone there? Didn’t you have no one to love you?”

“That’s not the point!” you shot back, a tremor running through your voice. “And it’s not different here. No one loves me—no one even knows the real me.”

Her smile deepened, a glint of something—mischief, perhaps?—in her eyes. “Ah, but who do you think was desperate enough, filled with enough sorrow, to pull you into this universe?”

Your breath caught, confusion clouding your mind. “I… I don’t understand.”

“When she died,” the woman began, her voice lowering, as if unveiling a truth long buried, “the manhwa ended. But did you think the characters would simply cease to exist? No, dear. They continued, burdened by the pain of their story. Yoongi was devastated. He regretted everything—every word, every choice, every moment that led to her death. He mourned her. His sorrow was so great, it transcended the story’s limits and reached you.”

Your head spun. “Me?” you repeated weakly, disbelief dripping from your voice.

“Dear, you are her. Just in a different universe. It’s the reason why you sided with her, why you felt for her, why her character called on you, why her pain felt like your own. You are her.”

“I don’t want to be her,” you said, the words tumbling out in a rush. “I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t choose this. Please—just send me back to my own universe.”

The woman sighed, her expression softening, though her eyes retained their strange, knowing glimmer. “The only way out,” she said slowly, “is through. The manhwa will only release you when its story ends. And you know how it ends, don’t you?”

A cold realization began to settle in your chest. “When he marries the female lead,” you murmured, dread weaving through every syllable. Your words hung in the air, heavy and final.

The sharp sound of footsteps echoed down the corridor, breaking your trance. You barely had time to gather your thoughts before a familiar voice cut through the suffocating stillness.

“There you are. I’ve been looking for you. What are you doing here?”

Yoongi’s low, commanding tone sent a jolt through you, but it was his grip—firm but not harsh—as his hand closed around your arm that made your breath hitch.

You turned to face him, his dark eyes locking onto yours. They were intense, holding a darkness that made your stomach churn. Something simmered beneath his composed exterior, something unsettling.

“How long have you been standing there?” you asked, your voice unsteady.

His lips quirked into a small, unreadable smile. “I just arrived, princess,” he said, the pet name rolling off his tongue like silk. “What are you doing here? Alone?”

“I…” You hesitated, your mind racing for an excuse. “I was just talking to—”

When you turned back, the old woman was gone.

Your heart sank, panic surging through you. The corridor where she had stood moments ago was now empty, as though she had vanished into thin air.

Yoongi frowned, his grip on your arm tightening slightly. “Talking to who?” he pressed, his voice dropping.

You forced yourself to meet his gaze, but the weight of it was crushing. “No one,” you said quickly, your voice barely above a whisper. “She must’ve left before you got here.”

Yoongi looked down at you, his expression calm, his gaze steady. Yet, something about the way he held himself—the deliberate gentleness, the faint curve of his lips—made unease coil tightly in your chest. A part of you whispered that this tenderness was a mask, that he wasn’t as naïve or benign as he seemed.

But then he smiled.

It was a tender smile, soft around the edges, and for a fleeting moment, your doubts dissolved like mist under the morning sun.

“Let’s get back to the party, princess,” he said, his voice a soothing balm against the tension humming in your veins. “Your parents arrived.”

Your steps faltered. “My parents?”

The mention of them sent a jolt through you. They were a peripheral presence in the story, barely more than a footnote in the manhwa’s narrative. They were always overseas, managing their company, distant figures who left their daughter to fend for herself. Their absence was a plot device, a catalyst for your dependence on Yoongi.

But now, they were here.

“W-why are they here?” you asked, your voice trembling despite your effort to steady it.

Yoongi stopped walking, turning to face you fully. His expression didn’t change, but there was something unsettling in the way his eyes softened, like he was trying to calm a skittish animal. “Don’t worry about it,” he said, his tone quiet yet resolute.

The words only made your pulse quicken. He offered his arm to you, his demeanor so effortless, so composed, as though he hadn’t just upended everything you thought you knew about the storyline. “Shall we?”

Were you imagining things, or were the guests’ gazes lingering just a little too long as you and Yoongi re-entered the ballroom? Conversations paused, eyes flickering in your direction, a murmur of whispers spreading like ripples across the sea of elegantly dressed attendees.

Yoongi, as always, was composed. His hand rested lightly on the small of your back, guiding you through the crowd with an ease that belied the tension curling in your chest. You tried to focus on the glittering chandeliers, the music, the familiar opulence of the space, but the weight of the stares made it impossible.

“There’s our little girl!”

The warm, dignified voice cut through the hum of the crowd, pulling your attention to its source. Your mother stood near the edge of the room, resplendent in a gown that rivaled the grandeur of the occasion. Her face lit up with delight as she strode toward you, arms outstretched.

“Y-you’re here…” you stammered, shock rendering you momentarily immobile as she pulled you into an embrace. Her movements were graceful yet firm, as though she’d been waiting for this moment.

“Of course, we’re here,” she said, stepping back to study your face, her smile warm but tinged with something calculating. “Why wouldn’t we be? It’s not every day that our dear daughter gets engaged.”

Your heart raced, panic rising as you tried to process what was happening. “I… I don’t understand,” you managed, your voice trembling as you looked between your parents and Yoongi.

Yoongi stepped closer, the warmth of his hand on your back turning into a subtle yet firm pressure. His voice dropped to a low murmur, meant only for your ears, as his sharp eyes held yours in an unrelenting gaze.

“It’s all been arranged, princess,” he said softly, his words almost tender but laced with steel. “Your parents and mine have been discussing this for some time. They thought tonight was the perfect opportunity to make it official.”

Your heart pounded in protest, the world around you narrowing to just him and the enormity of what he was saying. “I didn’t agree to this,” you said, your voice trembling but resolute. “This is wrong! You don’t want this, Yoongi. You have her. And I—”

“You what?” he interrupted sharply, his eyes narrowing. “You have Taehyung?”

“No!” you snapped, shaking your head. “This isn’t about him. This is about them deciding for us. This is about tying your life to mine when you don’t even want to!”

He tilted his head slightly, his smirk returning but without any real humor. “Who says I don’t want to?”

“Yoongi—”

“Look, princess,” he cut you off, his voice soft but commanding. “We just have to act like we’re going along with this. Just pretend. Can you do that for me?”

Your breath caught, and you searched his face for some hint of his true feelings. But all you found was a calm determination that left you more uncertain than ever.

The murmur of the crowd reached you, the polite applause growing louder as you turned toward the center of the room. Yoongi extended his hand, his posture exuding confidence and charm as he guided you toward the raised platform where your parents and his waited.

The spotlight followed the two of you as you ascended albeit reluctantly, every step feeling heavier than the last. The room seemed to hush, the weight of their expectations bearing down on you.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Yoongi began smoothly, raising his glass in a toast. His voice carried easily, commanding the attention of the entire ballroom. “Tonight is a special night, not just for our families, but for me. I’m honored to announce my engagement to this incredible woman beside me, my childhood best friend, the only woman who have never left my side. I cannot live without her, and soon, I’ll never have to.”

The applause erupted, deafening and overwhelming. You felt trapped, the walls closing in as Yoongi turned to you, his smile perfectly composed for the crowd.

“Shall we make it convincing, princess?” Yoongi murmured, his voice low and unreadable, carrying a weight you couldn’t quite place. 

Before you could respond, he cupped your face with a gentleness that felt at odds with the deliberate precision in his movements. His touch was warm, grounding, yet it sent a jolt through you—a mix of dread and something far more dangerous. 

Your breath hitched. 

Never in your wildest dreams did you think Min Yoongi—the composed, untouchable Min Yoongi—would lower his head to capture your lips. Even more unthinkable was the way his kiss shattered every expectation, unraveling something deep within you. 

Yoongi kissed like a man starved. His lips moved against yours with a consuming intensity, a hunger that left no room for hesitation. It wasn’t gentle or tentative; it was deliberate, almost punishing. He took and took, claiming you with every movement of his mouth. His tongue brushed against yours, coaxing and demanding at the same time, leaving you breathless. 

His free hand cradled your face, tilting it to him as if to ensure you couldn’t escape—not that your body seemed capable of responding. Your knees felt weak, your heart thundered in your chest, and the noise of the crowd faded into an inconsequential blur. 

For a moment, there was only him. 

The crowd erupted into applause, the sound jolting you back to reality. The cheers and whistles surrounded you, the noise pressing in like a tidal wave. You blinked, realizing that your hands had gripped the fabric of his jacket, as though anchoring yourself to him. 

Yoongi pulled back slowly, his gaze locking with yours. His eyes were dark, burning with something you couldn’t decipher. His lips curled into a faint, triumphant smile, as if he knew exactly what effect he’d had on you. 

You barely had a moment to catch your breath before he took your hand in his. The velvet box you hadn’t even noticed being opened now sat empty in his other hand. And then, before you could process what was happening, there it was—a massive diamond glinting on your finger, its size almost blinding under the ballroom lights. It was familiar. How could it not when it was the same ring he won in the auction?

Why did he have this now? When was this entire fiasco prepared?

Your chest tightened as you stared at the ring, the weight of it feeling heavier than it should have. 

Yoongi raised your hand, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, his gaze never leaving yours. To the crowd, it was the perfect picture of a devoted fiancé. But to you, it was something far more unnerving. 

“You wear it well,” he murmured, his voice low enough that only you could hear. 

The applause swelled around you again, the sound nearly deafening as you tried to steady your racing thoughts. 

This wasn’t part of the story. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. 

But Yoongi, ever the master of control, seemed to have rewritten the script entirely. And you were left standing in the middle of his narrative, unable to tell where the performance ended and the truth began.

The evening air outside was cool and calm, a sharp contrast to the warmth and chatter of the grand party you had just left behind. As the crowd dwindled and the night settled, Yoongi offered you his arm, escorting you toward his sleek black car. His movements were unhurried, deliberate, and his dark eyes lingered on you for a moment longer than usual.

The night seemed to be endless. You were never left alone even for a moment. You wanted nothing more than to lie down and plan your next step. You had to, or else you were stuck here.

“I’m sorry I missed your speech,” you said as the car pulled away from the glowing mansion. “I’m sure it was great.”

He glanced at you, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “That’s fine. You’ll always be here to hear my next speech anyway.”

You returned his smile, but it was brittle, not quite reaching your eyes. Had your plan succeeded, this would be one of your last moments with him. You’d return to your world, leaving this Yoongi—and this universe—behind. The thought tightened something in your chest, but you pushed it aside.

“I’m sorry about the sudden engagement, princess.” His voice was soft, laced with what sounded like regret, but his eyes told a different story. “My hands were tied. Our families went behind our backs, and I couldn’t do anything about it.”

Lies. All of it.

What you didn’t know was that Yoongi had orchestrated everything. He had whispered into the right ears, pulled strings behind the scenes, and crafted a perfect storm to ensure this engagement would bind you to him. He didn’t care what the truth was, whether or not you were from this world. He cared about one thing only—keeping you by his side.

Something in him had shifted the moment he realized how easily you could slip away. The very idea of losing you—to this world, to Taehyung, to anything—was unbearable. It drove him to actions he never thought himself capable of, cruel and unapologetic. Taehyung was out of the picture now, his budding empire crushed under the weight of scandal. Yoongi had ensured that, and he felt no remorse.

What mattered was you.

You offered him a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes because if what you were planning was successful, you’d return to your own world and he’d be left in this universe. Yoongi quietly offered you a champagne as the driver smoothly drove back to the mansion.

“Are we celebrating something?” you asked, eyeing the sparkling liquid.

“Just…for always, princess,” he said softly, the words carrying an undertone you couldn’t quite place.

You hesitated, but took the glass, sipping the sparkling liquid. The conversation flowed effortlessly, a dance of shared humor, mutual interests, and a surprising depth of understanding. With each exchange, you were reminded of why you had felt drawn to Yoongi in the first place. For all his intensity and mystery, he was undeniably charming, and being with him felt easy in a way you hadn’t expected.

The spirit of alcohol definitely made you forget about the ruckus that happened tonight. If he said that he didn’t have anything to do with it, who were you to question him when he was characterized in the manhwa as someone who was good?

Your conversation with him was fun. It was grounding.

Until the world began to tilt.

Dizziness crept over you, subtle at first but quickly overpowering. Your fingers loosened around the champagne flute as your head grew heavier, and before you knew it, your cheek was pressed against his shoulder.

“Yoongi…” you murmured, your voice weak as you leaned against him.

He steadied you, his hand moving to cradle your head as you slumped against his shoulder. “It’s alright,” he said softly, his voice carrying a note of finality.You tried to sit up, to stay awake, but your body refused to cooperate. Everything blurred together, and then, there was nothing.

Yoongi’s hand moved to steady you, his touch gentle as he adjusted your position so you rested more comfortably against him. He looked down at you, his expression unreadable, before shifting his gaze toward the driver.

“To the airport,” he instructed, his voice calm but firm.

The driver nodded without hesitation, changing course.

Yoongi turned his attention back to you, his jaw tightening as he studied your sleeping face. He’d heard everything earlier—the old woman’s cryptic words, your desperate plea to leave, and your determination to escape this world.

It all made sense. The nightmare that brought terrors in his heart really happened. You died because of his foolishness, because he chose someone else over you when he knew he couldn’t survive a world without you. It had been like living his worst nightmare all over again, the fear of losing someone he wasn’t ready to let go. But this time, he refused to let it happen.

He wasn’t a religious man, but your presence in this universe felt like a miracle—a second chance, no matter how strange or impossible. Whether you were the original her or not didn’t matter. You were here. You were his.

And he wouldn’t let you leave.

His gaze darkened, his grip on your hand tightening slightly.

“You’re not going anywhere, princess,” he murmured softly, more to himself than to you.

The first female lead was no longer his focus. She was gone.

Now, it was you.

And Yoongi would do whatever it took to keep you by his side—even if it meant tying you to him so tightly you could never untangle the threads.

There’s no other way to describe it other than “fate”. Maybe it’s how the universe balances itself, by binding such impossible creatures to mortal masters to keep them under control. 

Either way, it has always been for the best. Don’t underestimate the world’s matchmaking services!

(under the cut: a long, long scenario of meeting your familiars + some world-building!)

Keep reading

Ok hear me out

SAGAU | Imposter AU

You’ve been playing around with the idea in your head for a few days now.

“False one.” Sara’s voice is like steel. Her bow remains by her side; an attempt at diplomacy, or confidence? “Surrender now, in the name of the Almighty Shogun, and face your crimes.”

It wouldn’t have worked on Thoma and Ayaka, since you never managed to pull them from the gacha. Escaping them had been another close call.

You managed to get Kujou Sara, though, and so you came to your plan.

So you already knew that you could access the character menus, and had taken to spitefully confiscating the weapons and artifacts from your characters. You also knew that you could access the map of the world and steal things from the Traveler’s inventory, although you didn’t have an inventory of your own and had to carry everything yourself.

However, you had figured out that accessing the teleport waypoints from the map doesn’t work on you. You have to be physically touching the waypoints in order to fast travel. But using the map definitely does something; you just weren’t entirely sure what. You had your suspicions, though.

Step 1: Make a party consisting of Sara and only Sara.

Step 2: Pull up the map.

Step 3: Teleport to the most remote location in Mondstadt.

And, judging by the empty space where Sara used to be, you are indeed at step 4: profit.

Unfortunately, the soldiers that Sara brought with her did not do the polite thing and disappear also. In all your genius, you did not account for this in your plan.

You turn and run, gleefully brainstorming all of the ways you could cause problems with your newfound power.

Also known as: in which reader gains the power to teleport parties of four to any location they wish, and this power will surely not be used for evil

The Taste of Deceit: Hyungline Part 2 (Finale- Hoseok)

Masterlist

Taste of Deceit Masterlist

Hyungline- Part 1, Part 2(Jin and Yoongi, Namjoon)

Warnings- Gore, Violence, Grey Characters, Dead Dove Do Not Eat

Word Count: No idea.

Tumblr was having problems uploading the whole 37k post. So, here it is, divided.

Unedited. Kindly excuse my errors. if you find anything significantly wrong, please let me know.

“What do you do?”

The question had been bouncing in her mind for a while. Jung Hoseok was perhaps the sweetest, kindest man she had ever met. She had some professions in mind already.

A vet?

Animal behaviourist?

A pet shop owner?

A chocolatier?

A florist?

He was no layman, so whatever he was doing, he ought to be the best of the best. But he was graceful, humble and funny– the definition of a bright, beaming spring day!

Hoseok smiled at her before sipping his wine. He insisted that he needed someone to accompany him to the newly inaugurated restaurant and pub so that he could taste and check on everything.

Had he been the sole owner of it, Hoseok would have no problem managing things. However, since he had a business partner here, he had no other option but to wait for post-inauguration improvements. But he wanted an objective opinion on the place– the food, the ambience, the drinks and according to him, her name was the first one that popped into his mind.

“Any guesses?”

He was playful like that.

She had not planned or even expected a new addition to her friend circle, but Jung Hoseok somehow found her. Ever since that evening, when he swooped in and pulled her out of the odd situation with ease, they had exchanged numbers. He was charming, to simplify it.

“You…” She trailed off, thinking of an appropriate guess, but ended up with anything random that came up in her mind “You are a chocolatier!”

She knew it was an incorrect guess, even before Hoseok burst out laughing, she knew that she was wrong. The amused glint in his eyes said it all. He laughed with his whole form– head thrown back, body quivering, hand running through his hair. The terrace allowed them to bask in the pleasant sunlight, and the rays seemed to make him gleam and dance with him as he moved.

“No, I’m not. Not yet at least.” His laughter sobered up to a smile “But I can be, for you.”

Such words would not have made her blush– they were cliché. But if Jung Hoseok would look at someone like they were the only person in the whole world and finish it off with a wink, nobody stood a chance– she was just a simple girl.

Letting out a playful scoff, she began to cut through her steak.

“Let me, please.”

Within a moment, Hoseok was leaning in, her cutlery now in his grasp as he expertly cut the meat into perfect pieces.

“Thank you.” (Y/N) would be lying if she said that she was not caught off guard at his speed and precision, he was already cutting the steak even before she could respond.

“A hotelier.”

“Huh?”

Hoseok smiled at her before glancing at his plate and putting a piece of steak in his mouth.

“I own chains of hotels, even clubs, some of them are co-owned but most of them, they are all my own.”

(Y/N) stopped chewing. She had friends who could be considered ‘elites’ but Jung Hoseok seemed completely out of her league. 

No, she was not looking for a partner in him, he was a fun person to hang around– a friend who made her blush. If that made sense?

She liked his company, she liked his friendship, but obviously, she did not know much about him. But the new discovery only made her realise that they were worlds apart.

If he noticed the shift in her demeanour, he did not comment on it, instead, he breezed through his talks and actions. 

“Rate the place, (Y/N), and be honest, because it is an expensive investment I have made.” He asked once they were finished with the food, now waiting for some more wine.

She smiled with warmed cheeks, blaming the wine, but under his scrutiny, it was hard to not melt  “The staff behaviour is pleasant.”

“Of course, they will be on their toes, I am the co-owner of this place, the food. What do you think?” He breezed past her reply, pushing for more

“I loved the steak, it was tender and delicious.” 

Hoseok smiled, but his eyes remained the same “You are stiff (Y/N), anything bothering you?”

She felt her cheeks heating further, this time with her ears and neck.

“No, everything is fine!”

He hummed before refilling her glass “That was an awfully fast denial, but I would buy it, for now.” He finished with a wink “Relax,”

On second thought, she knew that his status did not affect the person that he was, she still enjoyed his company and he was clearly a kind and humble man, at least, she could try to shove her doubts at the back of her mind for the moment.

“Well, Hoseok, I believe that if this place is charging a little more than a Michelin star place, they ought to provide something more. At least until this place earns a name in the market.”

Hoseok nodded “And that’s why you are now my professional restaurant reviewer. You are right, I was considering the same, you see.”

“Unfortunately, good Sir, I would have to decline, I already have a job.”

And amused chuckles filled the air.

It was an idyllic place. Stretch of mountains and cliffs in view and a clear beach at arm’s length. The resort, as it had turned out, was owned by Hoseok himself. 

In retrospect, (Y/N) wondered what would have happened had she kept her distance from Hoseok. Declined his friendship, kept him at an arm’s length— never bumped into him at all?

Her life would be different. Totally different. With a wistful glance at the mountain peaks, (Y/N) turned to arrange their luggage. The tiny phone peaking out from the folded clothes reminded her of her harsh reality.

 She was thankful that Hoseok was in the shower. Quickly sending their location through the phone, she tucked it safely in one of the many eyewear cases she had brought on the trip. 

Keeping the box away, she resumed unpacking, when the shrill ring of the doorbell pierced through the momentary relief. (Y/N) jumped but regained her composure. Fanning herself, she licked her lips and walked towards the door.

She was only a few feet away from the door when she stumbled, before registering the firm grip around her waist and the breathing wall she was pulled against— no it was not a wall, it was her husband behind her.

“How many times have I told you not to answer the door in my absence?” 

She looked up, to find his hardened gaze through his dripping strands. He was still in his bathing robe.

“You were in the bathroom so—”

“There are a few rules you must abide, Honey.” Despite the pet name, there was no tenderness in his tone.

“I’m sorry Hoseok.” She looked down. 

The doorbell rang in the background again, but her thoughts muffled away her environment. She did not even hear him coming. What if he found out what sat in her luggage?

“Go back to the bedroom.” 

She did not need to be told twice.

Life had been hectic, to say the least. Added to it were her bedroom’s air conditioner breaking down, the fridge making noises and her boss highlighting her underperformance for the month. In short, it was not a great month for her. 

With the oncoming of October, the city had burst with tourists and trees, with bright foliage. The weather, at least, was pleasant. Her phone came alive with multiple notifications but she had no time to look, one minute late and she would miss the bus.

She could use her car, but it needed regular maintenance and what she needed was—

She had not paid attention to the speeding car, and she would not have, had it not been for a slick four-wheeler stopping right beside her with an ear-piercing screech. She was startled, to put it lightly.

The all-too-familiar black car made her frown, but her suspicions were only confirmed after Hoseok emerged from it, eyes shaded with sunglasses, hair perfectly done, complementing his white shirt and black trousers. He was a treat for the eyes.

“There you are,” 

She subconsciously stepped back as he approached, more like marched towards her– even with the smile he had, his voice had an unfamiliar edge.

But she smiled anyway.

“Hi…” Whatever greeting she had thought of faded away when he took off his sunglasses.

“You have not been answering my texts, is everything alright?”

“Yes, yes, I mean just—It has been a crazy month so far and–I’m sorry I have not even been able to reply to my best friend and parents.”

She felt the rush of guilt replacing the initial nerves.

“Oh, honey, you don’t need to be sorry, I was just so worried. Let me drop you off to my workplace at least.”

She was shaking her head even before he finished the sentence, but Jung Hoseok seemed to be determined, 

“There is no room for a no, it's a rush in the public transports anyway, at least grant yourself some relief, come on.” He took away her laptop bag and began to walk back into the car, leaving her with no option but to follow him into his car.

Muffled voices, one of which she recognised as that of her husband, seeped into the bedroom as she waited with wringing fingers for Hoseok to return. She had clearly upset him, and that was the last thing she wanted at the moment.

Hoseok entered the bedroom after a few prolonged, painful minutes. She noticed the stark difference in his expression and the air surrounding him first before taking notice of the breakfast trolley that he was pushing into the room with him.

“Look, all your favourites! Now, that is how a vacation should look like, don’t you think?”

She blinked in silence– he never failed to give her a whiplash.

Hoseok’s smile dimmed at the silence “Oh, I’m so sorry, Jagiya. You know how worried I get about your safety. I can never guess when my enemies attack. If they get to know about you…You understand my point, don’t you?”

He was already on his knees, emphasising each word like he was explaining to a child, cupping her cheeks to hold her attention. She nodded, despite not believing a word that came out of his mouth.

“Let’s get you to eat something, hmm?”

“Yes, here’s my office.”

“This one?” Hoseok ducked his head to assess the looming building in front of them, 

“Yes. I work here.”  Picking up her bag, (Y/N) turned to thank him, but his firm hold on her bag kept her from moving out.

“Let me drop you.”

“Huh? I mean, my office is just—”

“I insist. Come on, we are getting late.” Her bag slipped from her grip once again as Hoseok stepped out of the car, quickly sprinting around the front to make sure he opened the door for her.

“T-Thanks.”

“Let's go. Why don’t you show me your office today?” He smiled—the same charming smile that made a ‘No’ impossible to pronounce.

“Would you like to take a nap before we go? It's a hot morning., and you barely slept through the flight.”

“It would be far worse in the afternoon.” (Y/N) picked out a one-piece for the beach.

He hummed absent-mindedly as he strolled towards her. The soft material was perfect for a beach vacation. His fingers ran through her slightly tangled hair.

 “Let me do your hair.”

“I intend to leave it be.” She tried to step away, but he did not let go of her hair..

“I insist.” He asserted as he led her towards the dressing table.

His hand was gentle as he untangled the tresses before beginning to comb them properly. “You have been distant, love.” She stilled, suddenly feeling parched.

“W-what?”

Hoseok only chuckled at that. “I guess I tend to think too much.” 

He sprayed some water and hair serum on her hair, but his gaze remained locked with hers.

 “Are you upset that I left for so long? I know it must have been suffocating to not be able to step out of the mansion. But it is the safest option (Y/N), trust me. One day, you will understand, and there will be no emotional distance between us.”

Suppressing a scoff, she forced out a small smile and nodded as he put on a hairpin matching the colour of her dress.

“Here you go. You want a lip tint?”

Hoseok had a bounce in his strides as he walked into the office as if he owned it. (Y/N) immediately knew how stupid and ignorant she had been when people began to murmur, and some even stood up in his presence.

She was probably the only idiot in the room who had not even made a close guess regarding his affluence. She thought that she needed to guide him, but he was perfectly fine, manoeuvring all over the place on his own.

“Which floor?” He finally turned to her

 “Second.” 

“And your boss’s floor?” 

"The top. Why?”

Hoseok only smiled and shrugged. “Nothing, just curious.”

“Hi, have you completed the report for last week?” One of her colleagues approached her once she was settled at her desk, shortly after Hoseok left.

“Uh, about the ongoing project? I completed and submitted it yesterday. You did not receive an email?" Being on the same team meant that they shared one network. “I even messaged the team.”

“Oh, right. Sorry, I forgot.” With a small smile, she turned around to leave but paused, only to turn back again “Also, I wanted to ask about the changes I was supposed to make to my report?”

(Y/N) smiled with uncertainty. "That will be handled by the project head, I guess?”

The woman nodded. “Right, my bad, so I should get going.” With that, she turned around to leave.

"Wait! Um, I might be overthinking, but is there something you want to tell me or ask me?”

The woman was no more than her colleague; they did not share friendship with anyone outside the office. They were polite with each other and knew how to work together, and that was it. So random chit-chats were not common in their case.

“Um…I don’t mean to intrude, but... Who was the man who came with you? Who just left?”

(Y/N) smiled, confused. “You mean Hoseok?”

“Yeah, Jung Hoseok.” 

It was not in her interest, but looking at her colleague, (Y/N) had more questions springing up in her mind.

“You know him?” 

At her question, the woman blinked, and her eyes widened for a flash before she made a scrambling attempt to mask it with something more subtle. (Y/N) frowned, growing intensely curious.

“You don’t know who Jung Hoseok is?”

"Yeah, he is a hotelier; there are a few articles here and there.” 

The woman bit her lip at her answer, and her ears turned a bright shade of pink as she nodded. (Y/N) thought that she heard her sigh, “Y-yeah, right. I will see you at lunch; I have a lot to do.”

Something was wrong. It felt so wrong that (Y/N) refused to sit in suspicion for another extra moment.

“Ms. Lee,” she called out, walking to her. “Ms. Lee, if there is something that I am missing, then please tell me. Is...Is something wrong?”

“No, nothing is amiss, Ms. (L/N).” She shook her head. “I will not keep you from your work anymore; the project head has sent us deadlines already. Have a good day.” 

With that, the woman rushed off, leaving her with itching questions.

“You don’t like the food?”

“Huh?” (Y/N) tore her gaze away from the tranquil ocean visible from the restaurants they were currently sitting in; they chose the side with an unrestricted view of the sea.

Hoseok’s gaze, however, had been on her, as always “You haven’t taken a single bite since it was served.”

“I was waiting for it to cool down.”

“Its a cold dish, Jagi.” He pointed out, his eyes narrowing as he assessed her.

“Oh, right. Sorry.” (Y/N) gulped down some wine before diving in to eat.

It had been a day of sightseeing, and as the sun began to dip behind the golden sea, they both decided to have an early dinner before returning to the resort.

“We can order something else if you want." Hoseok offered, but she shook her head, digging into her plate.

“I like these.”

He smiled at her reply, “I know; that's why I ordered these for you.” However, it died down as soon as it came, “Then what is the matter, love?”

“Nothing, why?” She could hear the muffled beats of her heart, and she could feel the increased thrum as she fought the urge to gulp. He would notice. 

The silence stretched between them; it was almost like waiting for a ticking bomb to explode 

“Can I..." she finally gulped and took a deep breath “Can I see my mother?”

Silence.

Hoseok’s gaze held the edge of sharp scrutiny before he moved, and she lauded herself mentally for not flinching. 

Taking a sip of his wine, Hoseok shifted his focus back to his plate. This time, though, everything light disappeared from the air around him.

“The doctor keeps me updated. She is doing well.” He broke the silence, only to fuel the tension.

“But when can I see her?”

He looked up again and smiled.

“I know you are worried, Jagi, but now is not the time. We will meet her soon, okay?”

She knew better than to push it.

“What are you doing? Its lunch.”

Her friend’s voice startled her. “Tch, you go; I will join you later.” (Y/N) turned around to face Yumi briefly before resuming her research.

“Why are you searching for the Amethyst Era?”

“This hotel belongs to the Amethyst Era too." This time, (Y/N) turned her chair around completely to look at her friend.

Yumi shrugged. “Weren’t you doing the research? And this hotel is one of the most coveted in the country; people who keep up with such news know.”

 She dragged a nearby empty chair and made herself comfortable beside (Y/N).

“How many hotels does Amethyst Era own?”

“Pfft, hotels? Pubs, nightclubs, office buildings, and resorts—and not just luxury Some three to four star places as well.”

“Oh, you know quite well; you are into these?" 

“People are gossiping, (Y/N). Did Jung Hoseok really come to drop you off at work this morning?”

(Y/N) was surprised by her question, "Yeah, he did, but it was just a friendly gesture. Is he that famous?”

Yumi stared at her for a good, long moment before licking her lips and focusing on the screen. 

“You know he owns Amethyst Era, right?” 

She nodded at the screen showing pictures of a grand hotel.

"Yeah, I just looked it up this morning. What’s with that? Even Ms. Lee was being weird about me knowing Hoseok.”

“He’s a big name, (Y/N), a big, shady name.” Yumi replied grimly.

“Shady name? Why?”

“You remember my cousin Eun?”

Eun was Yumi’s cousin, who had mysteriously disappeared a year ago. Though Yumi did not share much about it, (Y/N) knew that her family and she were still disturbed and that his disappearance was a cold case.

(Y/N) nodded, now more interested in the conversation than ever before. “Well, the last place he was seen was completely different from what we have been told.”

“What? What do you mean?”

Yumi sighed and nodded. “I am so sure because I have been researching this myself; my friend is a private detective, and over the years, we have found many oddities with the case.” 

Her voice lowered as she leaned closer. “We were told that he was last seen near the Han River, implying that he jumped to end his life. But I never believed that, you know? I knew Eun; he was not too close with his parents, but we grew up together.” Her voice cracked in the end.

(Y/N) held her friend’s hand to comfort her; she could see Yumi’s eyes turning glassy. It must have been a storm for her and her family.

“He could not have done this, (Y/N), he possessed a zeal for life. He wanted to live more than himself for anyone.” 

She steadied herself with another deep breath before continuing, 

“I tried to push the police to look into the matter. I even tried to convince his parents that something was wrong. But they were adamant about believing what was being served to them. So I took matters into my own hands.”

(Y/N) nodded. “I can only imagine what you were going through.”

"I found out that he was last seen at a motel on the outskirts of Seoul. It was a fairly isolated place. There were a few witnesses. Plus, the investigator checked the CCTV near the river and found no sign of Eun. He was not there; he never went there. The police lied to us.”

“They were covering this up?” Yumi nodded confidently.

“Our trail took us to a remote motel.” Turning to the PC, she typed a name.

A few specifics later, a motel name and address showed up, with only one picture.

“This is the one.” She pointed at a rather blurry picture of a motel that seemed to be situated in the middle of nowhere.

“What was he doing here?” (Y/N) asked the obvious.

“That’s what we are trying to get into. But I think it is something not right, like we would come under radar. Jung Hoseok’s radar.”

Yumi’s words made her turn away from the screen 

“Jung Hoseok? What do you mean?”

“This motel is owned by Flare, a company that renovates and fixes places like old houses and hotels—you know, the one you would call if you were moving into an old house? Something like that. Now, this is a fairly small company. Nothing fishy, right?”

(Y/N) hummed and nodded her head in agreement.

“This is where it turns fishy. Turns out that Amethyst Era is the parent company of Flare.”

“What?”

Yumi nodded and tuned to type again in the search engine, “Look, Flare is no elite. In fact, it is not even in the top five companies that Amethyst Era owns.”

“Amethyst Era has more than five companies under it?”

 (Y/N) realised that she had indeed been living under a rock!

How come she had never heard of Amethyst Era if it is such a big name in the market?”

“Apparently, twelve.”

Yumi’s estimate raised (Y/N)’s eyebrows. “Twelve companies? What is he?”

“An immensely powerful hand in Eun’s disappearance, apparently. At least, that is what the investigator concludes. I have done some research on him and his Amethyst Era. Despite being such a giant in the market, most of the companies under its name stay lowkey. Pandora’s Box is usually the one in the spotlight. Closet Call is another glittery name in the market.”

“Pandora’s Box? I think I’ve heard of it.”

“Best in accessories and jewellery. It is not an exclusively luxurious brand–it has a few luxurious collections, and since most people can afford it, it is more profitable.”

“How did you manage to dig up so much?”

“Thanks to my friend.”

“Closet Calls has a showroom in every mall I have been to.” (Y/N) commented.

“That’s why people are talking. Jung Hoseok was seen with you. Just pray that they have not taken any pictures of you together.”

“Yumi, whatever you have revealed to me...  This makes him sound dangerous.”

“Every powerful company is dangerous (Y/N), but we still have no confirmation if he was directly involved in the disappearance of Eun or if he had anything to do with his disappearance. Everything is based on suspicion and probability (Y/N). In reality, we have no evidence, no real lead.”

Deleting the pages and the search history, Yumi turned to (Y/N).

“I cannot say anything with assurance right now, but you now know that he is no ordinary man. And in this world, power and money define everything. I cannot dictate your life, but I can advise you. My advice to you is not to get involved with anything that you cannot assess.”

(Y/N) nodded, her mind wandering off to all those times when Hoseok took her to restaurants, pubs, and banquet halls for ‘neutral and honest reviews’, which ranged from grand to sleek. She had suspicions that he was the one hosting the party where she had met him for the first time, but he had never confirmed anything, and the question had slipped out of her mind eventually.

Now every little conversation, every passing piece of information, and every quirk seemed to ring a bell—she knew that she was perhaps overthinking, mildly panicking even, but Yumi was right. People of Jung Hoseok’s strata were no saints, and people like her were nothing more than numbers for such people.

“Aren’t we going back to our suite?” (Y/N) was confused when Hoseok drove to the beach instead

“We are within walking distance from our resort. Besides, its peaceful here, don’t you like it?” 

Hoseok smiled as he continued to walk, his eyes staring at the gentle waves in the distance.

She would admit that it was pleasant to be the only two people roaming around the beach. The sun had set and left behind traces of rapidly darkening blues. Everything in the atmosphere was perfect to lull anyone into a sense of peace. 

But with Hoseok, she could feel anything but peaceful. Under the darkening sky, her senses turned more alert in his presence. The silence did not help either. It was like a waiting game, at least on her part, because Hoseok seemed completely relaxed. In fact, it was the most relaxed she had seen him ever since.

They stood where the waves chased their feet, shoes left behind, and the wet sand initially felt odd under her skin, but soon she grew used to it.  Just like how she had begun to grow used to being Jung Hoseok’s little wife—or his little pet, she could say. Had it not been that woman—

Fingers wrapping around the back of her neck broke her from her spiralling thoughts. (Y/N) gasped, startled back into reality, but before she could respond, her face was gently but firmly turned to her side, and his lips greeted her. It was gentle for only a moment before it turned passionate, almost frenzied with lust. Her knees turned boneless. The air was charged between them. She shut her eyes, trying not to look into the very eyes that would haunt her for a lifetime.

“There was not a single day when I had not wished to have you by my side, ever since I met you.” He confessed between the heated kisses.

It would have been a sweet expression of love, had it not taken her back to the moment when everything went downhill for her.

As if the conversation with Yumi had not been enough, the very next day, her boss had invited her into his cabin and apologised for his ‘rude and unacceptable behaviour towards a company asset such as her’. 

Company Asset?

(Y/N) was self-aware enough to know that she was easily replaceable. That man would rather fire his best employee than apologise. The jittery body language did not help either. That was not him apologising to her; he was being compelled to do so.

All she could think of was how Hoseok had casually asked her about her boss’ cabin. She had no other spot for the needles of suspicion to point at.

Everything was pointing towards Hoseok. But what she could not fathom was the reason behind a man such as him being invested in an ordinary woman such as her.

After that day, she began to evade him. Excuses, silence, diversion—whatever she could, she did to keep him at an arm’s length.

But such ways could only sustain her for so long. 

It had been a relatively enjoyable evening for an office party. She met a new employee who was funny, friendly, and flirtatious. No, she was not looking for any serious relationships, but some casual flirting would not hurt, right?

It had been a while since she felt her cheeks hurt from laughter; the last time she laughed so hard was when she had lunch with Hoseok. She had the ghost of her previously full-blown smile as she entered the elevator. Pressing on the number of her floor, she yawned, feeling the day’s toil catching up. 

But before the doors could close completely, they opened another ding.  Her previously slumped shoulders jerked up, alert, as the doors opened wide once more, and Jung Hoseok walked in, and she sucked in a breath.

He smiled—the usual friendly smile he would reserve for her—but under the light, his smile failed to brighten up the space this time.

In silence, he stepped inside the elevator and waited for the doors to close. This time, they did, but she wished that they did not. 

The silence was oppressive.

That was the only way she could describe it since she had not yet realised that she felt cornered.

“How was the party?”

She blinked. Despite it being just the two of them, the space felt crowded. The doors opened once more with the usual ‘ding’ before Hoseok walked out and turned to her, expecting her to follow him.

She yielded.

“You did not answer. That’s alright, let's talk over coffee.” He stood by her flat’s entrance, smiling.

Realising that she had no way out of the situation, she hurriedly unblocked her apartment door and invited him in.

“Sorry, its a bit messy right now, I did not know you were coming.”

By the time she finished, he was already making himself comfortable on her sofa. 

“That’s alright, (Y/N), makes you all too likeable." He smiled. But there was something cold and steely about that. “Why are you standing there? Have a seat. Its your home, after all.”

She managed to put up a smile and sit a good distance away from him. He did not comment on it but it would be foolish to assume that he did not notice, especially when his eyes remained on her—a cynical amusement playing in those orbs that made her sit still and taut.

“You have been quite busy these days, love. I hope your boss is not giving you a hard time.”

“No, he already apologised.” This time, she stared right back at him, trying to gauge out a reaction, desperately hoping that he had nothing to do with this.

Hoseok smiled and tilted his head. “Glad to hear that.”

And she needed no more confirmation. Taking a deep breath, she arranged the words in her head before beginning to speak.

“Hoseok, y-you are a kind and beautiful friend, and I really enjoy your company. Anyone would be glad to have you as a friend…”

“Really? I feel special.” 

Ignoring his comment, she continued—

“But unfortunately, I do not think that we should see each other anymore, as often. I do not fit into your world. It’s too vast, too glitzy, and over all—I mean–yeah you get it. I just feel that maybe we can tone down the meetings. My office colleagues took it the wrong way. Everybody knows you.”

That was not exactly what she wanted to say, but that would do. If he was not offended,

He chuckled and looked away for a moment, observing the wall on his side as if contemplating something. He mumbled.

“Sorry?”

“I guess you are tired. I will pick you up tomorrow, hmm?” His gaze found hers again.

“I just—”

I planned a whole weekend getaway. Be ready by eight in the morning tomorrow.” 

To say that she was stunned was a grave understatement. She blinked, dumbfounded by his blatant ignorance of her previous words. But here was where she would draw the line.

“Hoseok.” 

Her voice was firm. He was on his way out of her apartment, but he paused and turned around.

“I think you did not hear me earlier. I don’t want to see you so often. I am not going anywhere with you. Not tomorrow, not the day after tomorrow.” 

She paused before finally making up her mind 

“Not ever.”

Yumi was right. The more she minded her own business, the better. She did not want to be embroiled in anything dangerous or even scandalous. She needed herself. Not Jung Hoseok or any other storm.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Hoseok put his hands inside his pockets and titled his head—his stance relaxed and his eyes amused.

“What was your friend’s name again? Right, Lee Yumi, and her private detective friend, Kanyun. I will do them a favour.” 

He took a step closer to her while she remained frozen in fear.

“Since he has been running around with half-assed clues and crack-head witnesses for over a year now, I will give her one– the motel owner runs an illegal drug business. And now she and her little detective run to the police and find out how many of them work for me.”

He raised his hand, and she flinched and closed her eyes, almost certain that a hit was coming. 

Some scars took time to heal after all.

When nothing happened for a long moment, she opened her eyes, only to find his hand frozen in mid-air and all the air of amusement gone.

He clenched his jaws before gently brushing away the strands of hair from her face. 

“Never even in my dreams, love. Not even in my dreams.”  

His voice had no sharpness or amusement this time.

But she could not understand why.

She knew of his reality; he knew that she knew. Then why was she so soft with her? Like he was just playing. Maybe it was all a game for him after all.

“Its okay if you don’t want to come. You need to save your energy for the future anyway. Goodnight, love, sleep well.” 

Planting a quick, soft kiss on her forehead, he left.

He walked away as if he had had the most casual conversation with someone. Then perhaps she was that irrelevant. 

What harm could people like her or Yumi do to a person as powerful as Jung Hoseok?

The night went by with her warning Yumi about the fact that Hoseok knew what she was up to, checking all doors, windows, and locks, and keeping an eye on the street to see if there was someone watching over her.

Hoseok had known that Yumi had been trying to find out about her cousin all the while, and he also somehow knew that she was coming back from an office party. If that was not chilling enough, the very fact that he had confidently given away such important information hit the nail.

Jung Hoseok was a man she ought to avoid at all costs.

The sand sticking to her had felt odd a while before. But at the moment, she was overwhelmed with the feeling of his finger entering her. The pace was slow but calculated, leaving her gasping for breath. The dress he had chosen for her allowed the ease of his hands finding their way between her legs.

At the back of her mind, she knew that they would both need a shower once they were back in their suite. At the back of her mind, she was scared. But all she could express was how good his fingers felt—one curved inside her, rubbing on all the sweet, hard spots that made her gasp and shudder, the other playing with her pearl to make her senses fill with ecstasy.

“There you go, Baby~” he cooed at her, his fiery gaze meeting her hazy one as she was finally pushed over the edge.

She felt the second finger entering the very next moment, dragging her orgasm before she felt the delightful tiredness seeping in. But he knew that it was not over. He waited for a moment to let her catch her breath before his fingers inside her parted, stretching her walls. His lips attached themselves to her neck as his fingers continued to move in a steady, almost hypnotic motion, making her hips rise and her back arch.

“I love you so much…you have no fucking idea.”

His words made her eyes flutter open. Although still dazed, she managed to voice out her concern “Aren’t p-people here? Someone–oh–”

“Shh, no one will see us; we are the only ones here, love. I cleared it out all for us.”

 There was nothing surprising about it, though. The last time he caught someone staring at her chest, it ended with blood sprinkling all over the wall and the ceiling. Of course, he would not allow another soul to step inside the premises; he had planned to take her to the beach all along.

Her thoughts, though, were not steady, not with his fingers stretching her out like that while his lips assaulted her sweet spot, making her perfectly pedicured toes curl.

She came once more with a short but sharp scream, feeling her whole form buzz with pleasure. 

But the feeling did not last long enough to be relished, as she felt his hand between her warm legs. The bottom of her dress was already flung up carelessly, exposing her to him. 

Under the gentle moonlight and the distant lit-up torches, she could see his eyes gleam. He smirked before crashing his lips on hers. The kiss was passionate but gentle, pushing her towards another edge. 

But he pulled away abruptly, leaving her hanging. He smiled as he unzipped himself before nestling between her legs. Her inner thighs already felt damp with anticipation and arousal, but feeling his length rubbing against them, along with the texture of his pants, she felt her womanhood clench. Pulling her into a sitting position, he let out a quiet groan.

She blinked, slightly disoriented, but did not question him. She could feel hands around her waist even though the material of the dress.

 It was a surreal feeling.

 No matter how many times she slept with him, she would oscillate between being somewhere else mentally and having all her senses overwhelmed with pleasure.

Finally, she felt his length entering her before he pulled her over his lap. The movement of his manhood inside her made her gasp loudly and hold on to him for her dear life. Hoseok growled into her ear while she felt him unzipping her dress, loosening the sleeves so that he could pull them down in a quick, rough movement, along with her bra, leaving her breasts exposed.

His lips found hers again, and she squeaked into his mouth as he began to move. It was something she had never felt before. He truly never failed to surprise her.

Her eyes opened to find his fiery gaze on her before he moved her roughly once, eliciting a scream from her lips as her eyes rolled back again. His tongue devoured her mouth, and hers lolled, surrendering to the intense pleasure.

Her screams were met with his quickening breath and curses following a deep, sensual laughter. For a moment, it was easier to forget everything—the scars of the past, the uncertainty of the future—and just let the pleasure consume her. 

And she did just that. She gripped him tighter and moved with him, taking in all he gave her and in turn surrendering to him, just for the moment, and even in that moment, she felt how he claimed her. Like he always wanted to.

-----

She excused herself to the bathroom the moment they returned to their suits. The dress she wore did next to nothing to cover the blooms of red, pink and purple over her neck and beyond, at least those on her thighs were not visible.

Her legs were still wobbly, and the feeling of dampness between her legs did not help, it felt weird to walk normally. Under the sense of privacy provided by a shut bathroom door, she assessed her reflection in the mirror. 

There was no way of denying that she enjoyed it– she was glowing, but her eyes. They fell like they were foreign. 

Did she always have those empty eyes?

She knew she did not. But it was hard to remember the times she felt truly happy.

But there was hope now. Finally, she could see the glimmering end of the tunnel in the form of the opportunity thrown at her(literally). Remembering the phone tucked safely between her cloths, she composed herself as she began to wash away the remains of dubious passion from between her legs. She knew that scrubbing would not fade the marks all over her, but she scrubbed them anyway, resentful of herself for falling weak at the moment.

After a rather long bath, she felt slightly lighter, wanting nothing more than to crash on the bed and sleep the night away. With a sigh, she opened the bathroom door and stepped in the bedroom. 

Hoseok was not in the room when she stepped in. It was an eerie silence that impregnated the place. Sighing, she turned to get into the bed, only to be startled by Hoseok’ still form leaning against the closed closet. 

How come she had not noticed him before?

But that soon became least of her concerns when she saw the gleaming device h was playing with.

The phone.

She paled at the realisation.

He had found that fucking phone.

“So that’s why you were so lost? I wonder where you got this toy of yours, Love?”

She felt her stomach twisting as her eyes watered. But there was no time to think. With her reflexes kicking in, she turned and ran towards the bathroom, knowing that he had probably already locked the door.

She registered his grip a moment later than the feeling of vanished gravity. His grip was rough around her waist as he heaved her up in the air, eliciting a broken scream from her lips. 

He was everywhere.

Outside her work, he would be waiting for her with his car.

He would there outside her house on weekends.

He would be there whenever she would be somewhere out.

Jung Hoseok was everywhere. He was creeping into her life like a disease.

“How was work?”

That was the first thing he heard when she stepped in her dark apartment. All the tiredness hanging her shoulder down dissipated and pure adrenaline pumped in while she stumbled to switch on the lights.

Her hands were still shaking and her heart kept thumping against her ribs as light flooded the apartment, revealing the man she swore she would never meet again. 

“I had a cup of coffee due.” 

Her gaze dropped at he still-steaming cup of coffee in his hold, fingers with rings curled around the handle. His eyes were focused on the brown liquid though.

“Wh–what are you doing in my house?” 

At that, Hoseok looked up. It was like she was looking at a stranger– there was nothing airy, or light about him. Everything in her wanted her to back away slowly while maintaining an eye contact. But she stood her ground.

 It was her fucking house. 

He had already planted himself everywhere she went– regularly or not. She would not lose the sense of security in her house as well.

 She stood stiff and alert, ready to run if she needed to. 

“Come in, I prepared a cup for you too.” He patted the cushioned seat beside him lightly.

“Why can’t you just leave me alone?”

At that, he tilted his head.

“I thought we were friends (Y/N), very good friends…” The words felt corrupted from his lips. 

He knew that she was scared, he knew that she was tired, he knew exactly what he was doing.

She shut her eyes tightly and took in a breath, bracing herself.

“But I don’t want to be your friend anymore!”

“Aww, that hurt. But that’s okay…” 

He paused for a few moments, doubling the tension 

“You can be my lover.”

“Wh-hat?”

Hoseok smirked– slow and sinuous 

“I simply happen to be unusually fond of you…love.”

—-

He left after that and for a good whole week. But he did leave her spooked. 

Yumi was worried and unsurprisingly paranoid. If Jung Hoseok could give away clues without fear, and casually guess Yumi’s next move, it was better to just abandon the investigation, (Y/N) had suggested.

“I think you should rewind a bit, you look pale.” Yumi commented, observing her friend while she took a sip of her coffee. 

The days were turning colder and shorter, and a good, piping hot cup of beverage was always appreciated between breaks at work.

“I’m okay. Haven’t seen him for a week though.” (Y/N) shrugged. 

Hoseok was like a spider– it was scary when she could see him, but even scarier when she could not.

“Tch, you have to take a stand (Y.N), this can’t go on like that. You need to make a statement. People like him jump from one woman to another like they are clothes.”

Yumi did have a point. If she made a clear, good statement, maybe then he would leave her alone? She had, unlike Yumi, nothing to do with him at all. Nothing persona. Nothing profession. No connection at all.

But his words still rang like a warning bell in her mind.

“By the way…” Yumi began, clearing her throat “The new guy was asking about you.”

“The one at the party? What was his name again?”

“Hyunjae.”

Hyungjae was a decent man in every sense. He would help the old clerks, would buy coffee for his co-workers and even help them complete their pending tasks. Men like Hyunjae were rare to find, but they did exist.

“What about him?”

“I think he has a crush on you.”

“Yumi, men like Hyunjae don’t have crush on women like me– who does not even remember the meeting schedules.”

Yumi rolled her eyes at that comment “I think one friendly date would not hurt?”

“Yumi, no. “

“Why?”

(Y/N) sighed, “Just no.”

—-

The very next week, she was starring back at the menu card at a cafe Yumi had suggested for a date. While (Y/N) did not believe in stereotypes, but it had already been half an hour with no sign of Hyunjae and with a rumbling stomach, she was bound to get a tad bit annoyed.

Maybe if she could order one quick snack and—

“I’m sorry for being late.”

(Y/N) froze– her movements, her breathing, her thoughts– everything stood still.

This was….

She looked up from the menu, only to find Hoseok starring back at her with a sharp smile. 

“Quite a date.”

She looked around, only to catch a few faces quickly turning away. She needed to leave.

The sound of his chuckle broke her rushing train of thoughts.

“I have been so patient with you, thought you would get the point. Tch, but you are a sorry, naïve, lonely little lady…”

Somehow, the fake sympathy stung, because everything he said, was somewhere true. Everything she did, boiled down to two core purposes– her dedication to her ailing mother and to just survive. 

Maybe that’s why it had been so easy for a man like Hoseok to lure her in. She had dragged on a corpse of a relationship for years only because she was afraid to be left alone, she had accepted Hoseok’s friendship because with him, she did not feel alone. 

She did have friends. Good, helpful, understanding friends.

But they had their own lives and their own circles. She never had a best friend after school.

It was only her diary she confided in, freely expressed herself. Other than that, there was only a sense of loneliness. Even if she did want to reach out, it did not feel as easy or simple as it seemed to be. 

She did not want to be bother. 

But maybe, she was not a bother. Maybe she should have chosen her old friends over Jung Hoseok.

Because as she watched him light up a cigarette with his knuckles turning white. She knew that she was not getting out of this mess anytime soon. She should have been firm. But she did not want to be rude, or upset her only office friend- Yumi.

He checked his phone and smiled. 

“Oh, I have a very good news for you by the way…” He began.

His smile stretched into a malicious grin. A happy face had never been so terrifying to her before. 

“Your mother is being shifted to hospital owned by me. Poor lady, at her condition, she needs the best care. But now she would not have to worry, I shall provide that to her.”

How could she underestimate his reach?

She was stupid. Absolutely the dumbest idiot in the whole world.

And Hoseok was cruel. His snigger told it all.

Why did he even bother to try to stifle his laugh? 

“Aww, honey, there is no need to cry. Your mother is safe. She is having the best care provided to her…But the rest…” he paused, to smile– and (Y/N) understood what it was like to hate someone smile “...the rest depends on you.”

Now she understood what that creep had scurried away quietly the night she met Hoseok for the first time.

She flinched when he leaned in to wipe away her incessant tears. With her lips quivering, breathing shortened and vision blurring. She felt cold all over.

“Breath, its alright. Here, try to take some deep breaths.” 

He was by her side at once, his hand rubbing her back. There was an unending ringing in her ears.

“What have I ver–ever done to you?” 

She was tired. Tired, angry, afraid.

“Nothing, love. You have done nothing.”

“And yet you—why are you doing this?”

He simply smiled. 

“You can do a lot too, love…like marry me.”

The next thing she knew, she was slammed on the bed. It did not hurt, but it did leave her breathless. Her heart thundered against her chest as her vision blurred with unshed tears. Under the lighting, Hoseok seemed far more sinister than he had been a few hours ago under the night sky.

“What’s the hurry, (Y/N)?” He sounded like a python coaxing its prey right before crushing it.

He was the python.

He realised it when she felt his fingers wrapped around her neck, holding her in place. She gasped for air, mouth wide opened and tears freely running down from the corner of her eyes.

“Tch, tch, tch. And I thought you had some fucking brains left in that empty head of yours!.” He snarled. 

His words hurt because deep down, they were true– she was dumb, she was too stupid. She wouldn’t be where she was had she not been an utter idiot. 

She attempted to gasp, turning desperate when his hold around her neck tightened. She grasped his wrist with shaking hands, clawing with futility.

“It's a pity…she goes whoring around for government agencies while I plan a holiday for her.” He grinned, squeezing her neck tighter for a long moment before loosening his hold.

(Y/N) gasped and wheezed, taking all the air into her lungs even when it hurt. She rolled over and fell on the floor, feeling her knees turn boneless and her vision partially darkening. Holding her neck, she turned to look at him with wide eyes and quivering lips, the only reflex left was to escape. To run far away, but she was frozen.

Hoseok ran his fingers through his hair, storm ranging in now glassy eyes. His jaws ticked and with every breath he took, it looked like he was committing homicide in his mind.

“I have been too lenient, haven’t I?”

She had been terrified of him before, but this time, she was petrified. Hoseok had never physically hurt her before, but her throbbing neck lit a new fear in her, while her hatred for him reached a new height. She was still wheezing when he grabbed her hair, forcing her to look up.

“You think they are here to help you? You think they will treat you like a fucking victim? Oh no honey, they are going to treat you like a fucking mob wife that you are. Once they have everything they need against me, they will throw you away to the wolves. You are just as tainted in everyone’s eyes to them!”

“You are a l-liar!” Despite her struggle, she managed to cry out loud, expressing her anguish.

“A fucking liar! You made them drug me every day!” She screamed, not bothering about her highly disadvantageous position. The worst was already starring down at her.

Surprise laced Hoseok’s face for the first time in the night the cruel glint returned soon after.

“I see…Is this their fucking game plan? You are such an easy target.” He let out a callous chuckle and let go of her hair, 

“I don’t tolerate betrayal, love.” There was a glint in his eyes as he reached out for something on his back.

She saw the gleam first before realizing what it was. But it was too late. The muzzle of the gun was already pressed against her forehead. She froze with pure fear. 

She wanted freedom, not death!

“I don’t forgive them, I don’t forget them…You know what I do to them, don’t you?” The cold metal trailed south, booping her nose “I make them scream, and writhe and cry until their soul trembles.”

With sinious half smile, he lowered the gun further, probing it against her quivering lips. The fear in her eyes made him shiver– it was both thrilling and satisfying. She had betrayed him. No one dared to betray Jung Hoseok and live to tell the tale.

“But you…” 

He began, purposefully dragging his words as he watched her frightful eyes widening as he pushed the gun further, the metal tapped heavily against her teeth, making her gasp. But that was enough a slip-up for Hoseok. 

“I can forgive you darling.”

With that, he pushed the barrel of his gun into her mouth. The metal scrapped agaisnt her teeth as it slid in. Her eyes closed before flashing with utter terror.

Good.

He thought to himself, keeping his emotions and tears at bay. He would never admit it to anyone, not even her. But her betrayal hurt. It burned and cut through him. But he would admit, it was not surprising. 

Hoseok was no fool. He knew that she was not in love with him, but he believed that with time, she would settle– she was settling.

Until some fucking dogs came sniffling behind.

He did everything for her, for them. But she betrayed him.

“What do you think they would do? Give you a crown?” 

He could not help but chuckle at her naivety. Her eyes did not help it either. Large, fearful orbs starring back at him–he lived for that. He liked to say to himself that he did not like the fear in her eyes. But that would be a lie. 

“They would use you for defaming me, trying to destroy me, using you as a key and then, throw you away like a used ragdoll.”

He pushed the barrel further in with venegenance, making her choke into it and gasp.

“You are nothing but a pawn to them– a useless, stupid pawn. You think they can save your mother? You dead mother?”

He watched as more tears escaped her eyes, his words denting her confidence. No, breaking it completely. 

Her mother had passed away month ago a in peace. He made sure that everything was taken care of, she was given a simple but dignified funeral, and buried in the graveyard only people close to him were to be buried. He had been a good son-in-law. 

He was being a good fucking husband, keeping the news from (Y/N) because he knew that it could break her.

The words just slipped out, but it slipped out just at the right moment 

“Had it been anyone else, I would have just fired” He hissed, pulling the barrel a little before pushing it again, watching her shaking form.

Finally, he pulled away the gun, the thin string of saliva connecting the barrel and her lips made him smirk. He would teach her a lesson she would never forget. They would have plenty of time for that.

“Stay put.” 

He warned, dropping his mocking smile. He motioned with his gun, not letting his eyes flicker off her form as he dialled his most trusted man.

“Is the helicopter ready? Hmm, keep low.”

Hanging up, he grabbed her arm and pulled her up. She whimpered pathetically, but not an ounce of regret flashed in her eyes.

But she soon will. She would regret even considering betraying him.

He would make sure of it.

“You are going to be fucking sorry, love.”

He dropped all pretentious, sugarcoating and veils altogether. If she saw him as a monster. Fine, he would show her what a monster he was and how a monster loved.

She remembered that they had promised to brig her mother to safety. But she had no real time update. Her mother was her only family left. 

And she was dead now. 

The only hope, the only string that Hoseok would pull now and then was gone.

He kept the news from her.

A month.

Her mother had been dead for a month.

And he kept it from her.

(Y/N) forced down a whimper. Her legs were almost numb, her whole body felt stiff and frozen. But her heart won’t stop thundering.

Was this all a mistake? Where were they?

Why had they not ambushed Hoseok yet? She had blindly jumped into the dark after hearing a hopeful voice and—

Hoseok froze before she registered the distant gunshots. Hope flared within her at that. But it was short-lived as Hoseok began to drag her towards the closet.

“No! I will not go with you! I had ENOUGH!”

Her throat was raw with screaming. She did not care that she as hysterical. She finally had the chance to be free, she would take it, no matter what!

“Don’t be foolish, they can never win against me. You are just making things difficult for yourself. Don’t make it worse for you!” He hissed, the veins on his side popping to indicate that despite his low tone, he was boiling inside.

(Y/N) shook her head, attempting to pull away from him. But she was of no match against a trained killer.

“NO! YOU ARE A MONSTER!”

Hoseok’s eyes burned into hers when he glanced back briefly. But he was silent for now, focusing on dragging her with him, not even paying attention to her nails digging into and stretching against his skin. He did not even bat an eye at the blood flowing out. 

She looked at the entrance of the suite expectantly.

Please hurry up!

“No one is going to come here and make it out alive, darling.” 

His voice dripped with venom as he continued to drag her further away from the door. Uncaring if she bumped into things in order to resist.

Despite the fog of fear and uncertainty, she managed to grasp a bottle of wine put in the ‘gift basket’-- one Hoseok was supposed to open at night. Grasping the bottle, she swung it right at the back of his head.

“ARGH! Fuck!” 

His hold loosened immediately, but she did not wait, she jerked away from him, not even turning to look at his staggering form, she made a run for it.

The door as open, thankfully. But she knew that she needed to be careful. She stumbled, realising that she had left the phone in Hoseok’s grasp. Cursing, she kept running forward.

It was now or never. 

The gun shots echoed after slight pauses. 

“Madam! Madam! Why are you outside?”

The fucking dog of his!

Hoseok’s men were loyal to him, and their loyalty was tested by their respect for his wife and the only woman whom he had allowed the reign of his estate– under his watch, of course. 

The man grasped her body, eyes searching for potential injury. 

“Madam we are under attack! A rival group.”

A rival group! Wasn’t the police there?

“I was on my way to warn—”

The shattering of a window beside them had them both ducking for cover.

“Madame! Where is Sir?”

His question did not register for a few moments. The police were supposed to reach here. Who were those people?

“Madame?” The urgency of his voice made her spill out the necessary part.

“He-he’s in the room.”

He frowned, gaze flickering between the wide-open door and the her. But with some twisted miracle, he did not get much of the time to think, the gunshots grew louder and another windows shattered.

“Madame! Listen carefully. Please, run straight and turn right. 3368 is the code to the staircase exclusively used by staff. It’s also an emergency route. When you turn right, you will find a room on the left, beside the elevator. Get into the room, then the closet. Push the shoe rack away and you will find the emergency staircase. Just don't forget to shut it down. Keep running and at the end, you will find a way to the helipad. Our men will reach there with Master Jung.”

He handed her a mastercard to the room before ushering her out, telling her to be fast.

He did not need to tell her. She needed to be quick. She needed to reach there before he found Hoseok. She rushed out of the hallway.

“GET HER!” Her heart leapt to her throat when she heard Hoseok’s yell. 

At least now she knew that she was not a murderer. 

Glancing back, caught a brief glance of her deranged husband rushing towards her with his trusted bodyguard, his one hand clutching his bleeding head. But before they could close the distance, a series of gunshots filled the room, compelling them to duck and take cover while she got the chance to slip out. 

His rivals were there. 

With wobbly feet, she reached the suite room and opened it, not even daring to turn back, only hoping that she had not caught their eye. Locking the door, she quickly rushed to the dimly lit closet. The shoe rack stood with the pretence of being heavy and unmovable, but she could slide it with some effort. 

A short breath of relief escaped her lips at the sight of the locked door to the staircase. Not wasting another moment, she put on the code and opened the heavy door. The sound of nearing gunshots quickened her movement. It would be a matter of minutes before she would be discovered if she delayed any further.

Sliding the shoerack back into place, she shut the door, and it locked immediately.

The staircase reminded her of the escape games she would play in her freetime. It was spiralling, long, lit but void of another soul. She suspected it would be soundproof too– there was no disturbance of gunshots or attacks. Just silence and the echo of her quick steps.

As promised by Hoseok’s bodyguard, the route did take her into an opening that had a helipad near a cliff, overlooking the vast and ranging ocean. 

It was dark, but the helipad was lit.

And yet, there was not a soul in the place. Only the sould of the crashing waves underneath reminded her that she was outside the radar of Hoseok’s rivals.

Her only hope was to find an escape from there. Nearing the cliff, she looked around. There was a ferry station beyond the resort premises. She could see the light clearly. She just had to—

“(Y/N)!”  

Hoseok’s voice thundered as he burst out of another opening, expertly hidden behind a small watertank.

Perhaps it was a quicker escape route.

She watched as he rushed towards her, his gun in his hold and the collar of his shirt bloodied, likely from his own blood. But looking at the blood on his torso, she doubted the theory.

(Y/N)! Come back here now!”

She glanced at the ferry station wistfully.

Even if she tried, she would never reach there. Her way to freedom was so close yet so far. She did not know if the girl was a part of the State Authorities, or had been a spy for the rival all along?

Why would life be so cruel to her? Dangling freedom before her, only to snatch it up just as she touched it?

Looking at a an enraged Hoseok, she knew that she could never go back. He would make her life a living hell. He was not one to forgive easily. And she betrayed him. Hit him when his back was turned, quite literally.

(Y/N).Stop.Now.!” He warned, waving his gun at her, as she continued to back into the edge of the cliff.

He stopped a few feet away from her, cautiously glancing at the her feet. One step back and she would fall. 

“(Y/N), come back. I will forget this night, I promise you.” Hoseok offered, composing himself and tucking his gun away, motioning the guard with him to step back.

But she would not fall for his lies anymore. She had enough.

“NO! I know you never would. You already made my life a living hell!” She cried, letting tears flow freely.

“I gave you everything anyone would ever want!”

“Everything anyone would ever want? What do you know of it? All you have ever known, all you ever did was to snatch, seize and possess! This is not love Jung Hoseok! This is not lo–ve. Its a vile thing!” She burst out

“But I love you, I have always loved you!”

“THEN YOUR LOVE IS VILE! VILE AND ROTTEN LIKE YOU. YOU MADE ME INTO YOUR FUCKING TOY, A PET, BLOODY PET!”

She spat out, with anguish and venom rousing in her blood. Everything was deloslate and hopeless for her now. There was no sign of the police, there was no hope of an escape.

“But it is true. I am vile, (Y/N), the vilest thing from hell but I love you! I will forget about this transgression and—”

Her cold laughter caught him off guard. It was a rare and always cherished sight for him, yet this time, the sound and view of it made him break into cold sweat.

“T–ransg–transgression you say?” 

Her shoulders shook almost vilotently as her neck was thrown back. Her laughter grew louder, but her tears never ceased. 

“Transgression? This?” She hissed and pointed wher forefinger towards herself. 

Her face reflected pure range and anguish. Everything he had ever done, he had snatched away from her flashed before her eyes. And after all that, seeing him in pain, she realised that a part of her was delighted. 

“Do you know what truly transgression is? It is uprooting someone from their life, invading someone’s life and privacy. It is every.Fucking.Thing you did to me!” She snarled, all her suppressed emotions and resentment came flooding in with vengeance.

Hoseok raised his hand and took a slow step forward. One step back and she would be falling into the unforgiving ocean.

“We can start afresh, Love. I will try, we can be better. I am willing to forget everything. But please…” He begged. 

No, he could not afford to lose her. Even if it was wicked and twisted, he did love her. He knew that it was something far beyond ‘love’, something raised from the depths of hell. He would forget her betrayal, he understood where it came from. 

But he was not ready to lose her.

“Please come back to me!”

Come back to my arms, I will be better. 

He would giver more freedom, take her to vacations every other month, maybe even allow her to work– he had many companies under his name, after all. Yes, that would suit both of them.

Hope flared in his eyes as he watched the range on her face soften. But it broke him to watch her expression turn painful. He knew he was the cause of it. A good man would have let her go at this point.

But Hoseok was not a good amn, he had not a single good bone in him, no, he was selfish, wicked, obsessive, smothering. He was everything a woman would run away from. 

She would not fall for his lies.

Jung Hoseok would forget nothing, he would not forgive this betrayal.

He was the python who crushed her soul slowly and painfully. She let out a shuddering breath.

She had almost tasted freedom, she could never go back into her cage without strangling a part of her. She looked back at the ferry station, the lights seemed to mock her. The wind, the ocean, those mountains, the sleeping birds, the chirping crickets and the happy people who might not be able to afford a suite at a luxury resort like Hoseok— they all had one thing she could never have.

And her mother? She wished her mother could forgive her. She wished things were different, she wished she were better.

Oh, she could only do that…wish

She took a shuddering breath and felt cold breath washing over her. There was nothing comforting left. She looked at him through her tears. He took one tentative step forwards.

“(Y/N), come back?”

And she turned around and jumped into the the darkness of the ocean, responding to the crashing waves’ siren calls.

“NO!NO!”

Hoseok’s legs were moving even before he screamed. He could hear the muffled voice of his bodyguard but his eyes were following her.

And he jumped right after.

***

Here is Hoseok's part. Only Namjoon's remain. The last and the longest.

Apothic | pjm

pairing: yandere!zombie!jimin + g/n reader

word count: 6.1k+

genre: thriller, fluff(?), mild angst

warnings: GORE, violence, puking, obsessive thoughts, death, zombie cannibalism, is it necrophilia when it’s a zombie?? (sorry if i forgot anything)

— synopsis: Ever since the apocalypse hit, it’s been kill or be killed. So, what are you to do when a ghoul would kill for you instead of kill you?

Fuck, no more canned ravioli. Chef Boyardee will be dearly missed.

You crack a smile at your own thoughts while scanning the supermarket aisle, a flickering fluorescent overhead. Dirt and various food wrappers litter the tiled floor that you tiptoe on with sock-covered feet, shoes in hand in order to make as little sound as possible. You’ve yet to see a ghoul in this supermarket, but better to be safe than sorry.

With every item you stuff in your bag, a small sigh of relief passes through your lips. Going nomad helps a lot with your need to be alone, but also comes with many cons. Sitting at the very top of the list is being cautious. If ambushed by a group of ghouls, you must find a way out all on your own. It’s a risk you’re willing to take. But you’re not stupid enough to be noisy, whether you’re really alone or not.

Keep reading

[ THE TIES OF TWO SOULS ! ] genshin soulmate au ! 

Genshin Impact x Gender Neutral Reader Headcannons !

INCLUDES: Genshin Impact male characters! Soulmate aus, which would fit them and how the two of you meet!

WARNINGS: None!

Female charcters version will be out whenever I have time!

Keep reading

daddy, daddy, do, i want all of you

There was a god in Teyvat.

A god hidden, yet powerful. Enough, or maybe too much, that the archons themselves knelt down and presented their own offerings as if they were mere worshipping mortals and not literal gods. Though none had wanted to be greedy towards your affection, everyone had secretly wished they’d be one of the chosen such as the traveler.

Zhongli nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt an overwhelming presence enter him, but soon relaxed when the presence felt warm and soothing. Like hot tea after a long day.

The presence was familiar—

Ah.

Zhongli could cry.

Was this—

You?

You had chosen him. Overwhelming happiness flood through him as he heard your voice,

“Yeah, come on, geo daddy! Show me what you got!”

Geo daddy? Did you perhaps think of him as a parental figure? That’s not right. Weren’t you older? Shouldn’t he call you mommy? Daddy? Also why did you call him ‘geo daddy’?

However...

Zhongli’s face flushes a beautiful shade of red. ‘Show me what you got’, you said. What an honor it was, for you to put this much trust in his potential to serve you. Even if serving you right now apparently consisted of you making him run ‘round and ‘round in circles and whistling in a high pitch when you would make him climb the wall.

“Dang,” he hears you smack your lips together. “Nice ass and, oh- that’s a lovely moan you made there, Morax.” You teased. “Let’s go beat up Childe, yeah?” You ask, even though you were already controlling his feet to walk towards the Golden House.

Were you trying to kill him?

Zhongli bites his bottom lip, plump with all the biting he’s done all day honestly. “Thank you... your grace.” He lets out a breathy sigh and a shy smile as he slashes his ginger wallet in his sparkly moth form that would make Teucer squeal with his spear once again.

[240721] BTS Weverse Media Update

Is death the only ending? No.

Warnings: Mentions of Violence, Curses, and Blood

(SAGAU × Manhwa!Au × Villain!Au)

“What the-”

‘I hear... Footsteps!’

“FUCK!”

[ Mission: Survive Time Duration: 1 hour ]

[ Reward(s): Status points x10, Secret skill! ]

Status points can be used to level up your stats like Strength, Agility, Intelligence, and more.

You sighed, still looking at the game-like system infront of you.

“10 status points for surviving them? This is crazy! My life is on the line!” You screamed at it, but that didn't do anything. It just disappeared and started the timer.

You tsked, forcing yourself to stand up but still being careful, not wanting to open up any fresh wounds.

‘The secret skill better be useful.’

“I SEE THE IMPOSTOR!" you heard someone shout, making you recklessly stand up and run.

You can feel your wounds open up, but that didn't matter anymore as you only have one goal in mind.

‘survive.’

You ran, activating your agility and speed skill. ‘I can't die here!’

As the time passed, your fatigue keeps increasing—slowly making your activated skill disappear.

‘Fucking useless. should've leveled up my durability.’

[ 10x Status points obtained! ]

[ New skill gained! ]

[ Updating... ]

‘Wha- It's done?’ You asked yourself as you looked at the timer.

[0:00]

‘Did the timer even rang?'

[ Updated! ]

Name: Y/N L/N | “The Creator”

MP: 45/100 Fatigue: 96 Extra Points: 10

Agility: 15 Strength: 10 Speed: 16 Intelligence: 10 Durability: 9

=====

Skills:

[ Lv. 10 ] Monster slayer (the skill to eliminate monster type enemies with 2-3 strikes/hits)

[ Lv. 5 ] The Creator's right hand (the skill to make things levitate)

[ Lv. 1 ] The favor (the skill to heal any wounds) new!

[ Locked ] Divine Punishment

‘It's pretty useful. Is the system siding with me right now? Heh- pathetic.’

“Use 5x Extra point on Durability, then use the extra points left on New Skill; The favor and level it up.” You commanded the system, as you sat down under a tree and picked an apple from it.

[ Updating... ]

[ Updated! ]

[ “The favor” has leveled up to level 5! ]

“Activate skill; The favor!”

You smirked as you saw green flashes in your body. As you were healing, you threw the apple you ate and examined your wounds. It still hurts but you can now move more faster.

“Now this is interesting~”

Do y'all want me to continue this? What do you guys think?

Heavily inspired by @i-put-the-yan-in-polyandry and @nicebonescomrade

Taglist: @chibikiibielle @xyliope @dapperishere @under-a-starry-night @zhongchi14 @ognenniyvolk @callmemeelah @irethepotato @bardisipatos