Yandere Jungkook - Blog Posts

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

price of freedom (2)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m done,” you said. 

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

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

We’re with you. Do your thing. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And so, you were on your way. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ms. Go Minji from The Seoul Times.” 

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

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

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

“Yes, please proceed with your question.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I do,” you said. 

“Good.” 

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

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

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

Same place. Take the route we used. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m not—,” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Stolen Orbit

pairing: jungkook x reader

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

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

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

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

word count: 5,857

The Beginning

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

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

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

Reach for your phone. Dead.

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

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

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

No alarms.

No helicopters.

No dogs barking or people yelling in the distance.

Just… stillness.

Until the sky broke.

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

It didn’t glow or rage, it hummed.

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

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

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

Gone.

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

Screams.

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

It didn’t matter.

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

Your father’s voicemail.

Your sister’s disconnected line.

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

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

And there you stayed.

For minutes.

Hours.

Days.

Time broke.

The silence that followed was not peaceful.

It was dead.

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

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

But because you weren’t there anymore.

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

There were no windows.

No doors.

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

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

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

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

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

You tried again.

“HELLO?”

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

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

It was warm.

Not cold like metal. Not smooth like glass.

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

You recoiled instinctively.

“What the fuck,” you whispered.

Your chest heaved as you tried to remember.

Where were you?

Where was your family?

Had you died?

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

“LET ME OUT!”

“WHERE AM I?!”

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

It sounded oddly interested.

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

A doorway formed from nothing, and something stepped through.

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

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

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

And his eyes.

They were unsettling, solid black at first glance.

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

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

He did not flinch, but instead stepped closer.

Graceful. Effortless.

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

Not cruelly, not kindly. Curiously.

His voice slid across your mind rather than your ears.

“You are… fragile.”

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

He stepped closer.

“I am Jeongguk.”

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

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

“Eradication?” you whisper, voice hollow.

“Earth was terminated.”

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

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

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

“No. No, you can’t— you didn’t—”

“It was mercy.”

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

You can’t breathe.

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

But he does not.

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

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

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

“I did not erase you,” he murmurs.

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

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

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

Kept.

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

You choked on disbelief.

“Why me?”

He paused.

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

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

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

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

Whatever that meant.

Whatever that would become.

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

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

You’re still here.

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

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

Still alone.

Except… you aren’t.

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

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

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

And there he stands.

Jeongguk.

Alien. Impossibly elegant.

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

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

Hungry.

Unblinking.

“You are awake.”

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

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

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

He pauses.

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

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

“You can’t just— keep me!”

Your voice cracks, teetering between hysteria and disbelief.

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

He stops mid step, considering.

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

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

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

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

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

Is that emotion?

Before you can question it, he raises one hand.

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

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

Food.

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

It should be comforting.

But in this place, nothing feels comforting.

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

“Your body weakens. This is inefficient.”

You hesitate, eyeing the bowl warily.

“I’m not hungry,” you lie.

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

“You will eat.”

The words are not barked.

Not threatening.

But absolute.

You stare back at him, shaking slightly.

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

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

Holding it out, waiting patiently.

“Eat,” he murmurs.

His eyes glow faintly as they fix on your face.

“For me.”

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

You hate him.

You hate him.

You hate him.

And yet…

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

It tastes… nothing like food.

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

Not unpleasant, not pleasurable. Just… filling.

Sustaining.

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

“Better,” he says quietly.

You can’t meet his eyes.

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

And then… a touch.

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

You tense, but he does not press.

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

Your breath hitches painfully.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“This is prison.”

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

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

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

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

A pause.

“And eventually… you will thank me.”

Then he is gone.

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

Not really.

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

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

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

It remembers the ache of hunger.

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

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

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

No doors.

No windows.

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

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

Not again, not after last time.

He’d fed you like a child.

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

No.

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

So you don’t eat.

You don’t sleep.

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

You wait.

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

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

And when he does, you are ready.

—

He appears on the fourth cycle.

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

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

You glare at him, lips cracked from dehydration.

He says nothing.

“Fuck you.”

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

Good to bite, even if your teeth barely graze.

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

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

You laugh, sharp and brittle.

“Good. Let me die, then.”

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

He doesn’t like that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

He stands before you now, towering and still.

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

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

“But you will acclimate.”

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

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

For a moment, nothing happens.

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

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

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

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

Low.

Flat.

Cold.

“You have chosen isolation.”

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

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

The bed retracts into the wall.

The food panel vanishes.

You are left standing in nothing.

Cold.

Alone.

—

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

Your tears dry.

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

You hate him.

You hate him.

You hate him.

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

Relief.

Humiliation.

Rage.

You don’t understand which emotion is which anymore.

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

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

You can’t.

You’re too cold.

Too broken.

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

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

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

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

Weak.

He hums softly.

“I know.”

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

“And yet you need me.”

You can’t argue.

Not right now.

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

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

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

Sleep would mean trusting the silence, surrendering.

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

You are still recovering from that.

The ache of isolation.

The terror of being truly, utterly alone.

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

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

You didn’t mean to.

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

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

And Jeongguk did nothing but hold you.

No words.

No threats.

No cruel satisfaction.

Just stillness.

Just presence.

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

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

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

Warm and metallic.

Alien and oddly sweet.

Like lightning woven into silk.

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

You needed him.

And he knew it.

—

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

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

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

Instead…he looks calm, serene, even.

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

He looks… domestic.

If such a word could ever apply to him.

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

More intimate.

Less clinical.

It unnerves you more than his previous coldness.

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

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

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

Jeongguk tilts his head slightly, considering.

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

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

Which, in his eyes, you suppose you are.

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

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

You scoff, wrapping your arms around your knees protectively.

“Yeah. That’s called being human.”

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

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

You don’t give it.

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

His touch is careful.

Maddening.

“I desire only your peace.”

You choke on a bitter laugh.

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

His expression softens, strangely fond despite your venom.

“You misunderstand,” he says gently.

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

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

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

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

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

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

But instead…you close your eyes.

Just for a moment.

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

He takes your silence as permission.

Of course he does.

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

You force your eyes open, glaring weakly at him.

“Learning what?”

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

“To accept.”

You hate him.

You hate him.

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

You are cold.

You are tired.

You are alone.

And he is warm.

He is steady.

He is here.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You wake to warmth.

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

Soft.

Heavy.

Alive.

For a moment, your mind refuses to grasp why.

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

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

Firm.

Breathing.

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

Not the ship.

Him.

Jeongguk.

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

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

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

For several agonizing seconds, you debate your options.

Pull away.

Wake him.

Escape—if that’s even possible anymore.

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

You don’t want to move.

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

You are simply… held.

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

He stirs before you can make a decision.

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

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

Thicker.

“You are awake.”

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

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

“You did not cry.”

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

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

Your heart races painfully.

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

His answer is simple.

“Because you do not truly wish to leave.”

You freeze.

He doesn’t say it cruelly.

He doesn’t taunt or mock.

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

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

Up close, he is devastating.

More than alien.

More than beautiful.

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

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

Not with desire.

Not with hunger.

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

You turn your face away, pulse hammering.

“Stop looking at me like that.”

He does not obey.

“Like what?”

“Like I’m—”

You falter, teeth sinking into your lower lip.

“Yours,” you finish bitterly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But your body remembers the days alone in the dark.

The cold.

The ache.

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

So instead, you say nothing.

You simply let him hold you.

Let his touch stroke soothing patterns against your spine.

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

—

The days that follow blur together.

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

Meals are no longer delivered in silence.

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

He asks questions, though never demands answers.

“Why do you frown when eating this?”

“Does this flavor please you more?”

“Do you enjoy these colors?”

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

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

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

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

You blink at him in confusion.

“Earth is gone.”

His head tilts.

“Virexum can make what you desire.”

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

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

You laugh, startled and disbelieving.

And Jeongguk…

He smiles.

Not wide.

Not human.

But soft, and faintly victorious.

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

—

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

The contact is brief.

Innocent.

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

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

Something shifts in his gaze.

It’s not hunger, not cruelty…longing.

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

Jeongguk says nothing.

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

Watching.

Always watching.

—

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

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

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

You don’t argue.

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

You know he is right.

two | masterlist

Predator (Jungkook x Reader) Part II - Prey

Pairing: Vampire Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 5.2k

Series: Predator Universe

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

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

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

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

_______

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jungkook-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He was doing it again. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were thankful that he wasn’t hungry.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your heart shattered. 

“I’m being called back to my home.”

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

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

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

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

Hope.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A fail safe?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He really was a monster.

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

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

He had finally broken you. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Someone, somewhere, was watching you. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sympathy.

_______

The Taste of Deceit(Maknae Line Part One)

Request

Yandere Masterlist

Warnings: Violence, Dark Characters with Darker Intentions. And the plot would only get darker from here. Disturbing imagery, allusions, blood.

Word Count- 15k+

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

Kindly excuse the typos and errors

*****

Inspiration - 'Art Deco' by Lana Del Ray: The Great Gatsby Edit

The place was…she had no words to describe the beauty and grandeur of the place. Nothing seemed enough. And under the gigantic chandeliers, high ceilings and shimmery walls dwarfed everyone in the great hall. dwarfs with fancy attires and even fancier masks covering half of their faces.

(Y/N)’s eyes searched for her friend– he had abandoned her after bringing her to his boss’ party as his plus one.

“Once I get my hands on this punk, I swear!” she muttered to herself before picking out one of the many delicacies presented in the venue for the guests.

She did not care about the side-eyes she received from the mingling dolled-up women standing by the long table. At least that was what she liked to think. They were like bees to flowers– hovering, searching, but hardly touching anything. 

Her eyes caught the sight of the relatively isolated balcony- relying more on moonlight than blinding chandeliers.

Picking up her filled plate, she made her way towards the balcony. At the peak of summer, the air was understandably still. The warmth hit her instantly as soon as she was out of the airconditioner bubble. But she did not mind.

The moon, some scattered patches of cloud on the otherwise clean indigo sky and people below passing by, coming and going like fancied miniatures. Each of their movements seemed calculated and self-conscious. No wonder she stuck out like a sore thumb, more interested in the food than dancing with masked strangers. 

Apparently, no one was allowed to take off their masks publicly at the party. So she put up with her shimmering mask, covering half of her face delicately. At least the mask was of commendable quality.

It was peaceful for a while before a sudden commotion shook it off. She watched as security, people with cameras and even guests followed a car that entered the place, fashionably slowly, before halting just below the balcony she stood on. Every car stopped at the exact same spot, but none of the vehicles were thronged by people like that. Soon, the balcony was no longer her private space. People filled in, around her, eager to catch a glimpse of the Porsche. Or maybe the person inside. 

“Oh, he’s going to step out, click a picture, click a picture!” one of the women squealed to her friend.

“(Y/N), where were you?” her friend suddenly appeared beside her, catching her attention instantly.

“Where were you? I was left all alone there Hyuk, why did you even leave me alone? You know I don’t know anyone here.”

“I’m so sorry, it was my manager, he wanted me to meet his mentor, and I did not want you to be bored out of your mind.”

“Hyuk at least—”

“Ohmygod, ohmygod, he is out of the car!” 

The woman standing beside her cried out loud. (Y/N) held back a grimace at the obnoxiously loud voice as her eyes flickered below once more. 

There, stood a man in all black, an ebony mask covering half of his face. She could not see the details of the mask, but the shape was slightly different, and shades of silver gleamed occasionally as his face moved. The design around his eyes was more defined. His hair was parted from the side and combed back to perfection. His shoes shone under the flashing cameras and artificial lights surrounding him.

“Who is he Hyuk?” (Y/N) did not take her eyes off the man as she leaned closer to her friend.

“The big boss, the owner of the company I work in and many other such companies, and the host of this of party– Park Jimin,” he explained.

At that moment, the man’s face lifted, and the lower half of his face exposed his beauty. The mask made it almost impossible to decipher the shape of his eyes, but the way they glided over the place as his plump lips curled into a smirk had her gaze stuck on him. 

And then, his eyes stopped on her, standing right above him,or maybe it was someone behind her, beside her, but she could see the deep, dark eyes and the gleaming silver lines of the mask around them. 

The eyes…

She could not explain what it was, but they reminded her of deep, dark, forbidden forests, drowned ships laying on the ocean beds, and gigantic, maze-like caves yet to be explored.

Even with the flashing cameras, his eyes never blinked as they held her gaze. 

It was only for a long moment, but it felt like an era before she managed to look away, looking at Hyuk instead.

“Shall we go inside?” She asked, and he nodded.

And without turning her gaze back to his still figure, she pushed through the crowd and made a beeline towards the hall.

—----

Even after she was inside the hall again, those eyes stayed with her, nothing else but the eyes—the deep, dark eyes that spoke in silence. She had felt the shivers when his eyes held her gaze. And she was not familiar with such… bizarre emotions.

“Hyuk, Hyuk, let’s go home.”

“(Y/N), I must meet Mr. Park first. Are you feeling unwell?”

She gulped and shook her head. She was not feeling unwell at all, but she did not like how those eyes stayed with her so stubbornly. There was something magical and magnetic about them.

“We will only greet him, and then we can go home; how about that? Oh look, he’s here.”

It was not difficult to notice that people moved to greet him and then moved aside to make way for him. 

“Oh, he’s headed this way. Do I look like a smart employee?” 

Hyuk was thrilled to have the opportunity to improve his career prospects, and that was the only reason she did not walk away from Park Jimin’s approaching figure. She could not do that to her friend. 

“You look good Hyuk.” she patted his back in reassurance, offering him a small smile.

“Hope my employees are enjoying the party?” His voice was sweet honey with an edge of milk and cinnamon.

“Of course Mr Park, in fact, I am honoured to have been invited to your party.” Mr Park’s eyes stayed on her for a good moment before flickering to Hyuk

“Efficiency and hard work, Hyuk, are always rewarded in my business.” He patted her friend's shoulder with a smile that could only be described as angelic,

“I assume she is your plus one here?” He asked 

“Yes Sir, I came with my friend.”

“Hello there, I hope you are enjoying the party?”

“Certainly, Mr Park, it is a party like no other.”

Mr park only chuckled “It’s a business party, wait until you experience the parties at my residence.”

Turning to Hyuk, he smiled at him.

“Mr Won, we need employees like you, why don’t you attend the party I have at my residence? You will have the opportunity to meet many important figures there, I assure you that it would be my responsibility to create acquaintances.”

“I…that would truly be an honour, Sir.”

“Why don’t you bring your friend as well, I am sure you would enjoy the more…casual setting.”

Before she could come up with an excuse, Hyuk spoke out on behalf of her,

“Of course, I am sure she would not mind. We will be there.”

Mr Park’s lips curved into a slow smile.

“Sure, enjoy the party.”

And with that, he was gone, swept away with the crowd of people around him.

“Oh, my God! (Y/N), did you hear that? He knows me, he likes my work (Y/N). I would finally get a promotion, won’t I?

“You work so hard Hyuk, either way, you would have been rewarded with a promotion.”

“No, (Y/N), Mr Park knows me– the Park Jimin, you are a journalist, you must know his name.”

“I am an investigative journalist. I deal with crime, criminals and every other twisted thing a human mind could come up with, Hyuk, not the pale, rose gold business world.”

“But, he is the owner of the Park Enterprise.” Hyuk leaned into her ear and whispered “And he is only thirty-two.”

But (Y/N) could not care less. A bit surprised, of course, but that was it. Park Jimin, as much of him she could see of him, looked like the epitome of youthful charisma. There was an aura of authority, a sense of command, yes, but he looked anything but a man in his thirties. She was certain that he was only a couple of years older than her, twenty-eight at best!

—------

That night, as (Y/N) lay on her bed, staring up at the ceiling of her bedroom, she could not help but have all her thoughts occupied–no–engulfed by him– the mysterious yet charismatic Park Jimin. The way he walked, the way he spoke, like every move was a graceful dance for him. It was hypnotic, but also held an edge of danger. 

Even though it had only been only months since her joining as an investigative journalist for a publication house that printed and published news, magazines and booklets, she had begun to rely more on her gut instincts– they helped.

And her gut told her that no matter how alluring Park Jimin was, with his electric gaze and swan-like movements, she needed to keep her distance. After all, everything enticing had a sinister face. That was the rule of nature. At least whatever she knew of nature and the world.

—-----

“This is the last time I am getting along with your bullshit!” (Y/N) huffed, unceremoniously bunching up the gown she wore as she made jumped out of the taxi.

“And that is the fourth time you are telling this to me. (Y/N), I couldn’t say no to him, okay? He’s my boss.” Hyunk followed close behind as they made their way towards the gates of Mr Park’s penthouse. 

“Are we at the right place Hyuk?” the penthouse should have been booming with music, or at least chitter-chatter.

But the place seemed eerily quiet and the minted windows did not help much. 

“Uh, excuse me, is this Mr Park’s residence? We have been invited to the party here? I have the invitation.” Hyuk opened his phone and showed it to the two towering men guarding the main entrance.

“Yes, the party is inside. Please show me your ID and write down your details here.” one of them spoke out without a single twitch on his chiselled face.

No, it had to be Mr Park’s penthouse. Who else would have this level of security?

After they were done with the procedures, they were given masks again. They were somewhat similar to the ones worn at the formal party, these had an edge of funk in them. They glimmered under the light and had soft feathers attached to the top and reminded her of their presence every now and then as the softness caressed her temple

“Please do not unmask yourself publicly, at least not Mr Park allows it.”

The man surely had a thing for masks. She concluded as she nodded and made her way towards the seemingly quiet penthouse with Hyuk.

“Why’s so quiet here?”

“Why Hyuk, thought mr Park’s favourite employee would know?”

Hyuk rolled his eyes as they reached the front door of the penthouse. There, two more guards greeted them before opening the door, only to startle them with the boom of the party rushing out.

“It's soundproof!” Hyuk had to raise his voice in order to be heard as the music overshadowed every other sound in the place.

“I can see that Hyuk. Where’s the host though?”

Masked figures surrounded them, dancing, drinking, eating–the typical party-goers. The lights were slightly dimmed on one section with streaks of neon and flashes illuminating the figures dancing in the area, on the opposite side were plates and trays filled with beverages and bites that could well be consumed as dinner. The bar had a bartender making drinks with a spectacle– doing the expert tricks she had only seen in the viral videos. 

This party stunk of ‘How Rich People Party’. Mr Park brought a nightclub home.

Hyuk was already walking towards the table, eyes set on his favourites. At least someone was enjoying the party. Had it not been for Hyuk, she would have not even bothered.

Her eyes took in the place, the penthouse was huge, especially the ground floor, and the party seemed to be limited to there itself. Her eyes flickered to the first floor. There were people standing there too, but they seemed detached from the party, busy speaking with themselves and—

Her eyes caught a figure on the first floor, overlooking the party, the familiar lithe frame and ebony hair stood out, even in the dark. But what made him stand out the most was the mask he wore, it stood out, with the most ethereal, angelic white and swirls and twines of silver around the eyes.

The eyes…They were stilled on her already, as if they had been watching, waiting.

“Is that Mr Park?” she nudged Hyuk subtly. 

Of course, it was him, she remembered his magnetic stare. She simply needed to keep herself grounded.

“Holy shit. It is, did he see me gobbling up the sweets?” Hyuk immediately waved at him. 

“What else are parties for?”

Mr Park waved aback after a moment of calculated delay before gesturing them to join him upstairs.

“I’m not going there.”

“What but—but Mr Park called us.”

“He called you Hyuk, he had invited you mainly. Its about you. I have no interest in your dull business talks.” 

“Are you sure? What if I mess up, he’s a big name.”

“You will be fine, meanwhile, I can get some drinks. Just go, don’t make him wait, he’s the boss.” She patted him with assurance and watershed as he hurried up the stairs with a smile.

Her eyes flickered up once more, but Mr Park was nowhere to be seen.

Maybe…Maybe his eyes had been on Hyuk all the while.

Hyuk had not returned even after an hour and (Y/N) had found company in the tipsy-worthy cocktails and delectable bites. She knew that his career meant the world to him, but she was left in a room filled with masked strangers and she did not—

“You didn't come upstairs.” she felt the breath before she heard him speak, making her jump with a gasp as she turned around, only to face the mask that stood out.

“Mr Park! Sorry, I did not see you there.”

“Didn’t invite you to get bored,you know.”

“Oh no, I was waiting for Hyuk.”

His lips tilted ever so slightly, the smile was barely visible but it managed to be soft

“Hyuk is busy speaking with my friends. They’re impressed by him.”

“He works really hard. This was his dream career,” she added with a smile.

“Oh, I am an investigative journalist for (XXX) Papers. Not from the Paparazzi, if you’re worried.”

“Oh no, I don’t fear the media, don’t worry. If anything the journalists should fear me.” His lips tilted more, causing an unpleasant tingle to run down her stomach

“What?”

“I am terrible with interviews, I stray away from the topic so badly and I suck at using new and high technology.” He chuckled, finally showing off the mesmerising smile that made her gulp yet sigh in relief.

“Oh, right, that’s okay, I don’t like conducting interviews, so…”

Park Jimin was a charmer, she could not tell if he were a social butterfly or not, he did not leave her side even for once, and with each minute she spent with him– laughing, talking, just enjoying– her guards began to turn wax against fire.

Or was the alcohol in her system?

At that moment, she did not care.

He was like lightning in the night sky, stunning, entrancing but also intimidating. He reminded one to be careful but also could make thoughts cease simultaneously. It was almost...Sublime.

But she did not have much thought regarding that, she did not have the chance to dwell, not when their lips fit in oh-so-smooth with the ease of two puzzles fitting just right.

She did not even remember what thing led to what and how they found each other in the darkest little corner, tucked away from the party. One minute they were speaking, the next, they were flirting playfully and the next, his lips had brushed so delicately with hers, she melted into his arms.

It felt absurd how they still wore their masks, their accessory rubbed against each other as their lips clashed once more, it was teeth and tongue this time. She felt him opening a door that led to an isolated staircase, narrower but there were no prying eyes and it led straight to his bedroom.

She was not drunk, but she was tipsy and so so charmed by those eyes of his. And finally, when he undid the ribbon behind her head and let her mask fall off, she never felt more exposed, more vulnerable before.

“What have you done to me?” Jimin's voice had a desperate edge as his eager fingers.

She did not reply, shouldn’t she be asking him the question? But she was too curious, too eager to argue. She simply undid the strings of his mask, only the reveal the allure hiding behind. Park Jimin was the definition of beauty, crafted to perfection– but in flesh and bones.

His lips came crashing on hers, the sheets, like their bodies, like mating swans and snakes, like the rain touching the soil, absorbing and soaking into each others’ essence, fusing into one.

How would she ever forget those hypnotizing eyes now? That perfect face, that electric touch?

But she knew that she must leave soon.

As it was expected of her.

—------

“Where were you last night? I searched for you and called you so many times! You left the party without telling me?” (Y/N) could visualise her best friend fuming through the phone

“Yes, I left early. I was drunk a bit and wasn’t feeling great.”

A necessary white lie

“Oh…I shouldn’t have left you alone for so long, I’m so sorry.”

“That's completely alright, I understand, did you manage to make new connections?”

“Yeah, kind of, can’t say much. Where are you right now?”

“In an amusement park.”

“What?”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes at the response “Of course I’m at work. I don’t have Saturdays off. It's a half-day.” (Y/N) sighed “I have a lot pending, bye.”

“Wait I—”

Cutting the call, she dropped her phone back in her pocket and licked her lips. Even they seemed to remember the foreign warmth.

No, no (Y/N) he doesn’t even remember your face perhaps. Stop thinking about him!

 Looking around her office, scattered with closed and opened files, folders, papers and pens rolled out from a dropped penholder, she really wished she was home. But she was desperate for a good distraction. And what could be a better distraction than work?

Besides, she had taken up a murder mystery. And while the police had closed the case, her boss thought that maybe with further investigations, they could stir up a good storm.

After all, that was all this business was about.

“Agnes West, an English Teacher- engaged to Cha Kyunwo.” she read out aloud, eyes skimming through the information to find something—

There it was.

Homicide.

“Police suspected it was a case of homicide. But there was no evidence? This case is interesting.” She sat up straighter as she began to read into the details.

“Police concluded it as an accidental explosion caused by a leak in the gas pipeline--oh, that's brutal. Bodies unrecognisable, more than ninety per cent burnt but DNA matched with their daughter who was not home during the accident.” 

She skimmed through for more information, but there was no evidence found or submitted officially. At the end of the file, there were two pictures attached. The gruesome details were now in front of her. It was truly a brutal accident and if it were a murder…The killer must have hated them.

She was well into researching the case. Not much was put up to her surprise. But the real surprise came when one of her colleagues knocked on her cabin door.

“Yes, come in.”

“Hi.” her colleague peeped in “There’s someone who wants to meet you.”

“Meet me?” (Y/N) frowned. 

Hyuk had an emergency, her parents lived miles away and her other friends were not the kind to just drop by randomly. They had their lives with their partners, while she…she had her life with her office.

“Okay, I will be there.”

Her colleague gave her a tight smile before nodding and shutting the door on her way out.

Walking out of her office, she was greeted by a towering and wide man beside a shorter man with the lithe frame now etched on her brain. She would recognise it anywhere, even when his back was turned towards her. The taller man, supposedly his bodyguard whispered something in his ear before the man turned around.

Park Jimin wore his mask like he wore the grace of a swan. But Park Jimin without the mask, bare to the eyes and eyes on her, looked like a fallen angel.

For a moment, it was all stillness and silence, only the click of his shoes reached her ears as he approached her– movements slow but smooth. Perhaps he really was a swan-incarnate after all.

“You left this morning, I thought you’d stay.”

Wait. What?

“I…I had…work and I thought–well I was sure that—you were expecting me to stay?” 

She mentally hissed at herself for bumbling like a schoolgirl with a crush but what had ever changed by crying over spilt milk?

There was the same ghost of a smile she had seen the night before.

“Why think that? Of course, you would stay. Don’t leave like that again. Hmm?”

Again?

“What do you mean? You’re playing with me?”

This had to be some sick joke. Didn’t he see how she looked at him, how her mind lost to her heart every time he was in front of her? Or was it daily bread for him? Charm and then walk away?

Defying all her expectations, Jimin frowned with looming in her eyes, but still slower than the desire she had seen igniting in those hypnotic eyes last night.

“That night when I first saw you at the party, wearing that translucent mask, in the flood of prying, smitten eyes, I could see only your eyes…Do you know why?”

She had no answer to his question, he seemed to notice that too. 

Leaning closer, he continued-

“Because your eyes were the only ones that looked at me with such a sweet, innocent curiosity. I instantly knew you did not belong there. I was not even supposed to look up, I could hear their annoying screams. But something told me that I must. And I found you, and I knew I could never go back. I am still stuck in that magical moment (L/N)(Y/N).”

She saw his eyes zooming in before she felt his lips touch hers once more, this time in a chaste kiss, but enough to flutter her heart open and her eyes close.

“I will be waiting for you in the cafe across the road.”

With that, he walked away. 

“Was that the Park Jimin I just saw?”

(Y/N) jumped at her boss’s voice creeping behind her. She was a woman in her late thirties, spoke business but never forgot humour. (Y/N), on the other hand, was not in the mood for humour and her boss’ prying.

“Miss Yoon, if you want to know about him I must make it clear I barely know him myself.” She turned around, facing her editor.

“Oh, but he seemed to be interested to know you? I knew it was perfect for you It's God-sent, I tell you!” Miss Yoon’s words made no sense to her. Her boss seemed extraordinarily delighted to have discovered her acquaintance with Park Jimin.

“What are you talking about? I don’t understand?”

“Oh my…Don’t tell me that you do not know much about him.”

“I’m afraid that’s the case.”

Her boss only smiled cryptically and nodded  “I think you ought to know more, girl.”

—------

The cafe was a quaint little place, usually bustling after office hours with people rushing to grab some bites and even dinner for home. But as she approached it, she realised how empty it was– all lit up, all staff members working but there was no sign of the rush hour she would witness every day she would witness after work. Especially on Weekends.

She had never paid attention to how the door would creak when opened, it was usually hustling in there. But now, the creak was louder than her footsteps.

Odd

(Y/N) frowned before her eyes caught the corner seat of the cafe– perfect for two, isolated yet closer to the counter and set just by the right window– the one which would offer ample view of the busy street. Yet it was not the seat that was in her sight, it was the man sitting there.

Park Jimin’s eyes were already on her. He had been watching her from the movement she had stepped inside the cafe. 

“Hope you like the place,”  he spoke up as soon as she was near enough.

“No place could have been better. It's even quiet here today.”

“Yes, I had booked it all for the evening. In case you were uncomfortable,” He stated nonchalantly as she took a seat in front of him.

“Oh, that was unnecessary…”

Jimin scoffed with a smile as he poured her coffee kept on the table. His eye, previously on her cup flicked up to match her gaze with a heat that made her gulp.

 “Only the best for my lady.” He pushed the filled cup towards her as his plump lips curved upwards “I have realised that my approach last night and that evening might have made the wrong impression…I do not do casual nights (Y/N). If I lead you to my bedroom, I mean to lead you into my life as well.”

She stilled. She felt her heartbeat turning louder at his words. A lump formed in her throat and her stomach flipped. 

“Do you want to be in my life?”

His question jolted her. But the sparks were mild. She blinked but managed to nod “I would give it a try.”

Park Jimin’s smile widened– evidently pleased. He offered her his palm. As soon as her hand was in his grip, he reached for his pocket and fished out a delicate platinum bracelet and wrapped it around her wrist.

“Welcome to my world Sweetness.” His eyes fixed on her with a burning gaze as his lips fell on her wrist in a hot kiss.

++---++

“Have you gone through the case file I have given you?”

“Yes– it was suspected to be a murder by the police.”

Miss Yoon shook her head “Just one officer. He was new in the post and had a clean record according to my sources. In fact, he was at the top of his academy. Had solved a few cases before that were somewhat complex. But this case was different.”

“What do you mean?” she was intrigued.

“This officer was sure that it was a murder– a cleverly-planned, cold murder. He had begun to gather pieces of evidence, point out and interrogate suspects. There were many leads but after six months there was something worth making the news.”

“What?”

“The case was suddenly declared closed after being concluded to be an unfortunate accident and the officer was transferred to some remote village.”

“This sounds fishy?”

“Oh, I see you are learning. Yes. My sources have found some confidential pieces of information. Before this abrupt closure of the case, the officer had managed to lay his hand on a solid lead, and that led him to chalk Park Jimin as a suspect.”

(Y/N) stilled.

++---++

****

Inspiration- "M." by Anil Emre Daldal

The road was isolated, nothing could be seen beyond the thick December fog and the piles of snow separating the road from the woods on either side.  While tiny snowflakes floated in the air, the blizzard was still hours away, as per the weather reports.

Taehyung’s eyes flickered on the reflection of her sleeping form on the backseat– tucked away with blankets and pillows. His eyes fixed back on the road ahead.

Just a few more hours and we will be fine.

He promised as pushed on the accelerator.

They won’t find us, they can’t.

He was confident, but he never allowed to get that to his head. He used to be four steps ahead of them, now that they knew his game plan and he had the love of his life to take care of, he had to think ten steps ahead.

He glanced back, turning his head completely to check on her, the car was tearing through the frosty air but he slowed down, just in case.

Turning to the road again, Taehyung sped up. The sun was already setting down.

+---+

The restaurant offered him the perfect amount of privacy and smooth services, extras included since he was one of the wealthiest patrons there– a regular, paying hefty tips.

But tonight was different. Tonight he was less worried about some prying eyes, some authority informant and more focused on striking a deal with one of his rivals and potential ally. 

The waiter returned with another glass of old whisky. But Taehyung did not bother to look up.

“How’s the weather boy? Sunny or gloomy?” It was a code language for inquiry if anything suspicious was going on outside or in the restaurant.

“Uh… it's nighttime, Sir.”

It was a woman’s voice. Just not the type he was used to hearing. It was gentle…without anything to hide– plain, soft and gentle and clueless. And that made him look up from his drink.

Yes, he could see it in her eyes. Clueless, plain– the kind of simplicity he was not used to but he could see that she was anything but one-dimensional. Taehyung simply smiled, eyes fixed on her as they began to take in the little details. She clearly did not belong there.

“Oh, of course. Pleasant evening,” He said, letting his smile stretch as he watched her place the drink in front of him and give him a bow. “Please send Jun in; I’m not used to sudden changes,” He asserted as soon as she turned around to leave. 

“Sure, Sir.” Nothing was different in her eyes or smile.

As if it did not bother her. But somehow, it did bother him. But he was too proud too distracted to acknowledge that.

“Have I seen you before?” He threw the question, it was like a litmus test, one wrong twitch and he would catch it if something was off.

“Oh no, Sir, I joined yesterday. I’m not permanent yet,” She replied with that gentle voice of hers that just…hit him somewhere.

“What’s your name?”

This time, her eyes held surprise, and it felt like a victory to him, to affect her like that, and bring out something beyond a professional mask. Something that made her seem more exposed and gave him the upper hand.

“Alice.” it was the name on the nameplate given to her. And none of the names were real.

“Your real name, Alice.” She blinked at this question.

“Eui, Sir.” Taehyung nodded, testing the name on his tongue

“Eui, you are in the wrong place.”

+---+

The constant ringing of his phone made him hiss. But he could not pick that up, he needed to reach the mansion first. His eyes kept flickering between the road and the backseat. His eyes matched the cold outside the spending vehicle, yet there was a fire lit inside him. 

But it was nothing compared to the first time his lips met hers.

+----+

He knew that Jun was a sleazy man, but that he was a fucking bastard surprised Taehyung. Slightly. Taehyung had ignored his dirty eyes on the girl; he had pretended not to hear that man slap her rear and grab it painfully enough to elicit a gasp and whimper from her.

But when Eui entered the room the third time and Jun pulled her on his lap, the girl was screaming and terrified, with tears streaming down her face. 

Taehyung finally looked at him.

“I'm a regular here, Jun. I don’t want to leave a bad impression, the place is my favourite.” He warned calmly, sitting still as a stone, eyes fixed on the struggling woman in that man’s grip.

Taehyung was good at ignoring such things; they did not bother him much. He was not new to the underworld. But the sight in front of him made something in him flutter. It was tiny, but there was something akin to a spark.

“Since when did you begin to care, boy? You know what? I think she would do better in the hotel I have at—”

“Let go of her.” 

Jun froze, the mirth leaving his face. But it was just for a moment. He scoffed, pushing her away and standing up.

“You know my reach, boy, you better shut that tone of yours or we can call this stupid deal off. Your men will be left with nothing, I see them in our area, and I slaughter them. Are you listening to me? I will fucking kill them, you need this deal more than anyone else!”

While Jun fumed, his voice and ballooned ego stretched and poked, Taehyung continued to eat, only having his eyes flicker up once as Eui scurried away. Most of the time, his eyes remained on his plate. It looked a bit bland, though, he noted, before finally looking up.

Taking a toothpick, he began to clean his teeth with leisure, firing up the old nuisance's rage. He grabbed Taehyung by his collar and pulled him up.

“You know what I can do to you? And that little empire of yours?” He barked.

Taehyung shrugged, still cleaning his teeth. But this time he smirked,

 “You are so full of yourself, aren’t you, Jun? Guess what you can do to me and my empire.”  

With a flick of an eyelid, the toothpick was already buried in Jun’s left eye.

 He screamed in agony as Taehyung’s face turned besprinkled with blood. “Nothing Jun. You can do nothing.” 

Taehyung finished by slamming his head straight on the heavy table. The food, the wood, the chair, everything was now marred with his blood.

Now the plates looked interesting.

But he was not done. Far from it. It was not a flutter anymore. It was something more. Taking out his gun, he shot both of his palms before burying a skewer into Jun’s throat until there were no screams but gurgling and struggles.

He pulled his dying rival closer with a smile that could make children shake hands with him. Innocent, nice, and soft. But his eyes gave way to his blackened soul 

“I am Kim Taehyung, Jun. And I am here to rule. You don’t get to fuck with the lion in a jungle.”

 He smiled with his lips still marred with blood while Jun turned into remnants of flesh, bones, and blood. Even Taehyung’s shirt had blood on it, but it was jet black.

Snatching the overpriced handkerchief from Jun’s pocket, he wiped his hands and face before his eyes found hers. She stood in the corner, frozen, petrified. He knew he was evil enough to feed off others’ fear but for the first time, the fear in someone’s eyes made his heart skip a beat.

“I thought you scurried away.” 

He sauntered towards her, smirking at the sight of her trying to become one with the wall.

“I told you you are at the wrong place, Flower. How did you appear in this wasteland?” 

He whispered when he reached her, invading her space as if he owned her. He did not mind the idea of that, though.

“You should have run away at the first chance you got, far away.”

Was it the strange numbness that he felt after every kill, or the fact that he was coming down from the high of adrenaline? He had no clue. But something in him told him to kiss her, he must kiss her. And so he did.

Only to feel a flame like no other arise from his chest and spread into his blood like a disease. If it were the most lethal of diseases, he would die a content man. For he found the lips that could kiss his soul.

+---+

“Just a few more miles, Darling.”

Taehyung whispered to her sleeping form in the backseat. She looked so serene, even when the situation was anything but.

Even after three years, Taehyung remembered every detail of the night. The night he met her for the first time and touched the gates to heaven. Taehyung always thought that indifference and lust were all that was left for him to feel in moments like that.

But the moment he had kissed her, it jolted him awake, a part of him that even he did not know was asleep– in a deep, long slumber all his life as if waiting for that one moment. 

His phone came to life once more as the screen showed a random number. This time, he picked up the phone, keeping his eyes on the rearview mirror.

“Sir, where are you?”

It was his assistant.

“We need to go underground for a few months, prepare yourselves. I have made all the arrangements already and am heading somewhere safe. You know where to go and guide the rest of the team. Don't try to contact me on this phone. I will contact you.”

"But Sir---"

With that, Taehyung hung up, pressing on the accelerator, he took out his gun from the dashboard. His suspicion was right there was a black sedan closing the distance with his car. He purposely slowed down a bit, letting the chasing car close the distance. The tinted windows like his vehicle only made him click his gun into readiness. 

When the car was running parallel to his, the window slid down, revealing one of the many he detested with passion. 

“Long time no see, Officer!” He yelled out, lowering the window as well.

The man in uniform did not reply, only swerved his car, hitting Taehyung’s vehicle to the point of taking a 180-degree turn with violent jerks.

+---+

Right after the moment he kissed her, Eui pushed him off and ran away. Something she should have done way sooner. But it was too late now, so miserably late. Kim Taehyung had his eyes set on her, and the rest vanished.

It was so easy to find her and even easier to predict her patterns– simple, straight and plain. She was like every other people passing by. She was an average citizen, an average girl by every book.

Then why?

Why was he pulled towards her? Like a man hypnotised, as if she were the siren, and he, the willing victim. 

His eyes would be on her, like every nocturnal creature watching its prey from the darkest corner, enveloped by the shadows of the night, where the moon could not reach and the birds never sang.

Kim Taehyung was surrounded by magnetic women– women of beauty and power. But none of them could ignite the flame Eui did. Jang Eui. A young woman with no family, barely any friends and a college degree that would not yield much. Sad.

But she had him.

He was everywhere she frequented. While initially, he did not let his presence be known, preferring to just watch her instead, after two months of thorns hugging his yearning, he let her know. 

She ordered something in the cafe? It was paid for already.

She looked at a T-shirt for too long, it was delivered to her the next day. Getting off from work late at night, four people were tailing behind by a fair distance.

She feared him, he made her uncomfortable. Did it bother him? Yes, but he was a creature of habit. He could be a gentleman as long as he had things his way. Otherwise, he was a sinister deception.

She was working at a bookstore and when the night got a bit lonelier, he found it the perfect opportunity to saunter in. Her eyes gave away her fear, and with each step closer, she drew back until there was nowhere to go, just bookshelves closing them in. It was a cramped place, to his delight. 

“I have not told anyone about that night, please leave me alone!”

“Oh? Why don’t you try now and see, Flower?”

 He smiled, amused as he stepped close enough to flutter her hair with his breath. She looked a bit pale and tired.

“You will not overwork yourself anymore. I can’t have that.”

“Why do you care?” It was not a question out of spite but plain confusion.

His fingers found her cheeks but he flinched, only urging them to be firmer. But he retracted them soon after. He leaned closer, close enough to smell her, close enough to be able to see the minute details, the slightly roughened skin, the bumps and sweat, the chapped lips, the fine lines forming on her forehead though she was too young for that.

“I care for everything that belongs to me,  Flower.”

+---+

“Where is she?” Officer Jeong was cold and calm

“I don’t know who you are talking about, Officer?” Taehyung grinned

Officer Jeong pointed his gun towards him “You know very well who am I talking about.”

Taehyung smiled– slow and sinuous “She is the love of my life Officer, and I don’t like it when someone even looks at something that’s mine.”

Officer Jeong smiled back– frosty and sharp “You have this bad habit of stealing, Kim.” He clicked his gun.

+----+

It was not the last time he visited the place or found his way to be close to her. And with each passing day, she turned less tense. It was a progress Taehyung would pat himself for and when he caught her faint smile looking at the wildflowers he had laboured for, Taehyung understood what true happiness meant, what it meant to feel content.

When they went on their first date, at the same restaurant he had gone to when he earned his first bulk, Taehyung felt flutters across his heart. 

And when he slept soundly like a baby in her arms, Taehyung discovered that he had been chasing all the wrong luxuries before.

“You don’t sleep well, do you?” she asked

“It's just like that with me, barely get to sleep at night, even if I tried…I just can’t.”

“Sleep here.”

“I can’t Jagi, if I stay the night in your apartment I might alert the snakes. I am a bad man, and I have rivals worse than me.”

“I think they are already suspicious. You visit here too often Taehyung.”

“Then come with me.”

“What?” Eui blinked in confusion.

“Come home with me. Move in with me?” Taehyung offered hopefully

Eui only smiled “I will think about it, okay? For now, here, lay your head on my lap.”

And when he did.

He had something to look up to, someone to come back home to, someone to live for, someone to imagine his life’s twilight with, a reason to not be so reckless. After a long time, he felt the fear he never knew he craved– the fear of Eui’s safety.

It was the kind of happiness he was foreign to. Something he could not have even imagined. Like a wild, starving beat being petted and fed for the first time.

But his relationship with happiness was strange. Happiness was like watching fireworks for Taehyung. It immersed him, mesmerised him, and made him forget his woes.

But it never lasted for long.

+---+

“Surrender now Taehyung, and you will live.”

“Now you know my name?” Taehyung smirked

“We know your hideout, we know your overseas bank accounts, we know your business, we know it all Taehyung. The rest of my team is under their way Taehyung, we know where you are headed to. There is no escaping from us. Not anymore Taehyung.”

Taehyung’s jaws clenched. No matter what he did, how much he tried, he knew that he could not turn reality.

“I like the confidence, despite with nothing but failures on record.” Taehyung poked.

“No matter how far or how fast we run, Kim. Our deeds catch up with us. No matter the form– police, rival, accidents, fate? We never escape consequences.”

+----+

Within a month into the relationship, Eui moved into his mansion. He liked to call her the Lady of the mansion, just as she was the lady in his heart– the only woman he could think of, liked to look at and wanted to kiss and have himself buried in.

She was the reason he looked forward to returning to his mansion– he called it home now. But his business did matter. Running an illegal buisness and keeping a disguise was stressful and risky, to say the least. Add a long wait to the list and one would have a pissed-off Kim Taehyung. Only the big names in the underworld knew his real name. The rest of the world knew him by one menacing name– V. 

And they also knew not to get on V’s bad side.

It was a rainy afternoon, one could confuse the afternoon sky with that of dusk. The rain made it even more difficult to see through. But there was a certain shade that might just catch one’s eyes. He saw it from the corner of his eyes and then turned. It was pouring out and Taehyung had to squint and clear up the fog on his window to get a better look. And he kept looking after that– still as a tiger on alert.

It was Eui, his Eui in a police vehicle with an officer.

Taehyung’s gaze never left them, not even for a moment. But he knew the longer he stayed, the riskier things would get for him. His face was stoic and a blank canvas all the while.

“Drive away.” He commanded the man driving, no essence left in his voice.

There were no questions asked. The man drove away, and all the while, Taehyung’s eyes remained on her.

+---+

“I’m asking you again, Taehyung. Where is she?” Officer Jeong demanded.

“I should have killed you that day.”

+----+

“Taehyung? Are you home?” 

Her voice was melodious as ever. But this time, it did not soothe him. It burnt him. As if his skin was falling off. But he stood motionless in silence. Watching her from the dark corner of their room as she entered it.

“Tae?”

Taehyung felt an unpleasant shiver run down his spine. The tone, the voice. Filled with so much love turned his eyes glassy.

Lies.

Lies

Lieslieslieslies.

That was all he could hear in his head, that was all he could think of. Life could never be fair to him, could it? He was perhaps a cursed soul. A wretched on earth.

He saw as she tripped over the dead body on the floor, screaming out as soon as she realised that blood coated her hands and clothes.

“How many more?” He finally spoke up, walking into the little light that partially illuminated the room.

When she looked up, there was fear in her eyes, but it was not the only emotion swirling in those oceanic eyes. For the first time, her eyes spoke the truth. She let them. He realised that– they spoke because she let them.

“Your partner in crime.” He whispered out with a cold smirk but his eyes began to well up. “I’m–I’m one fucking…” he shook, stopping himself right before his voice could crack and give away his heartbreak and vulnerability. 

Instead, he fished out a lighter from his pocket and a pack of cigarettes. Taking in a shaky breath, he tried to keep his shivering hands steady as he lit the cigarette. All the while looking at the nightstand where the engagement ring sat. It was going to be his sweet surprise to her. He could look at anyone and anything but her. He could not even look at her, he could not risk meeting her eyes and exposing himself. He was a shell of a man before and now, a broken man.

“What is your real name?” He finally looked at her, being able to get a hold of himself finally.

“Tae I—” She shut up with the click of the gun he pointed at her.

“What is your name?” He gritted out.

“Eui, I am Eui you—”

“Your. Real.Name.” His voice was low but left no room for any more lies or questions

The silence that reigned after was thick and dangerous.

“(Y/N). My name is (Y/N).” she finally whispered, looking into his eyes without an ounce of fear. 

Taehyung nodded. A lone tear finally managed to escape his eye, though his face remained unreadable

“(Y/N)...” The name felt foreign yet oddly satisfying on his tongue “I really want to kill you right now.” 

His voice shook and so did his hands. But he did not care anymore.

+----+

“ You are going to be arrested either way Taehyung, so you better let (Y/N) go. She is our responsibility.” 

“She is mine!” Taehyung growled, but his words dragged into a warning tone. 

“She works for us, and I am not leaving without her. Now, where the hell is (Y/N)?”

“Hye! Hye?” 

Both Jeong Hye and Taehyung turned towards (Y/N) who managed to open the car door with effort.

“(Y/N)!” Pushing Taehyung out of the way, he rushed towards her.

While Taehyung watched, glaring at Officer Jeong’s back before he fired his gun.

****

Inspiration- 'Gender' by Really Slow Motion

Jeon Jungkook was the kind of boy one’s parents would invite for dinner. The model student, polite, lovable, funny, good in sports, good at everything. Not the valedictorian but fairing well enough to aim for the top universities. 

No wonder (Y/N)’s parents were happy with their son’s choice of friend circle– well, maybe not the circle as a whole, but if Jeon Jungkook and Kang Dayhun were friends, they were all too happy to have his influence on their son. Like every parent, they wanted the best for their children, after all.

Being the eldest child came with a hell of pressure and responsibilities. Like most parents, her parents wanted their eldest child to fare better than them in his life– the expectations, the standards– it was all in the skies and to (Y/N), it was clear that the pressure was crushing him.

She often wondered, why could their parents not see, he was doing his best?

Things were much different for her. She was the youngest in the family after all. She was saved from the overwhelming pressure and scrutiny.

“Is the table ready (Y/N)? And don’t you dare pick up the fries, they’re for Jungkook!” 

Their mother could not be more obvious in showing her anticipation and excitement for hosting the Golden Boy of the town. She ran around, fussing over every detail, even the most irrelevant ones.

“ Dayhun, son, are you sure these are his favourite flowers?”

“You never even bothered to bring Dad his favourites?” (Y/N) hid no malice behind her words, so her mother’s glare had the fourteen-year-old clueless.

“He’s coming here with his parents, (Y/N). You know how influential the Jeons are?”

“I know they’re famous here? Have the picture-perfect family and lots of money.” (Y/N) replied innocently.

Her mother neared her “Yes, child, yes. But if we manage to get in their good graces, we can have a brilliant future ahead. Don’t you want that?”

“But wasn’t this about Dayhun and Jungkook?” She was confused now.

Her mother smiled “Of course it is. Jungkook is our priority. But it is always better to have good connections around.”

—----

Even when in high school, Jeon Jungkook stood out. He was tall, and lean but had a stature that visibly showed his capabilities. Despite some of his sharp features, he did sport two round doe eyes that reminded her of rabbits. No wonder her classmates were going crazy for him.

Jungkook was of her brother’s age, seventeen. While she was fourteen. Most people might assume that Jungkook was immediately her school crush. No, he wasn’t, she had seen him a handful of times before he was invited with his family for dinner, but all she knew was her brother’s friend.

Jungkook was high on manners– no wonder her parents loved him. His smile was bright and contagious and his humour had won over the dinner table. Needless to say, he was the star of the evening. As always. But the thing was, him being the star would not bother anyone. He was an angel! Her parents loved him, her brother loved him, she did not hate him– what else would one want? It was the best impression any high schooler had put on her parents.

Maybe her mother’s words made sense? To the fourteen-year-old (Y/N) ‘connections’ meant making good, amiable friends, and the Jeons were just that.

+---+

“By the time my brother and Jungkook graduated from high school, Dad was already the branch manager in the company he had given so many years to. My brother stayed back but Jungkook was sent abroad, to learn the ins and outs of the business world.” 

(Y/N) explained to George, her boyfriend since college, as she rushed around– packing things up for the long holiday she had planned with her family.

She had stayed in the foreign land even after her graduation. While the job she was offered was the prime reason, it was also George.

“But why are you telling me about Jeon Jungkook?” George’s asked.

It was supposed to be the holiday when George would finally be introduced to her family. Why would her brother’s best friend matter?

“Because George, my parents adore him, he’s their ‘ideal son and ideal man’ model.” She rolled her eyes with her fingers in the air.

“You are not a fan of him, are you?”

(Y/N) sighed “It’s just that…I don’t care. I just don’t like it that someone outside our family would have an influence on them,, especially to the extent that I have to tell my boyfriend all about him so that he could be in that guy’s good books.”

“Saadd~” George sang out with mockery.

“Sad indeed.” She couldn’t help but nod.

—-------

“Okay, I have told them that I am bringing my friend with me.”

“What? You didn’t tell them that I’m your boyfriend?”

“Don’t worry, they will understand. For now, just focus on your first impression. Be free, don’t crack your terrible jokes just smile, okay?”

 (Y/N) explained to him as she drove into her house’s driveway, a bring smile making its way as soon as she was inside the gates 

“Just smile as I am smiling.” She spoke through her grin.

“Aye, Sir!” George gave a salute before the car came to a halt and they stepped out.

“(Y/N), you made it!” Her mother was visibly glowing. (Y/N) observed as her smile stretched.

She was excited too– beaming with happiness. It had been almost two years since she had seen her family physically– video calls and pictures stood in no comparison to the feeling of home and warmth.

Her job was demanding and her brother worked under the Jeons now. So, while he did live with his parents, he was constantly travelling with and without his friend and boss– Jeon Jungkook.

The man was supposed to visit their home with his parents for dinner. The (L/N) residence was different– not the mediocre house she remembered from her childhood memories. It was now a house with life-sized glass walls, five bedrooms, two servants, one cook and one gardener who gave a weekly visit to tend to the beautifully kept garden at the back of the house and the lawn on the front. It was a lovely villa that showed off their elevated status clear and loud. It had kept memories as well– after all, it was purchased when she was still in college. But maybe, she liked the old house and the old neighbour better.

But she could tell how happy her parents and brother were about the house– it symbolised Dahyun and her father’s economic ascension. And most importantly, the place was closer to her family’s favourites in the town– the Jeons, who, with their expanding and promising business, resided in a sprawling mansion. She was not sure about Jeon Jungkook’s whereabouts though.

Much to (Y/N)’s surprise, her family’s reception of George had been…smooth, no questions asked, not a speck of suspicion in their eyes. None of them even bothered to ask about a foreign man’s closeness with their daughter– their only daughter. They were amiable to him, warm with their reception and mingled with him as if they had known him for years.

But their response to George only fuelled her confidence regarding the revelation of her relationship with him. 

Maybe she was thinking too much? Her family would have no problem sending their daughter away to a foreign land as a permanent resident there. They would not object to her marrying a foreign man after all.

The conclusion blessed her with a sense of relief as she tried to decide the right time for the disclosure.

—------

The night lit up with laughter and chit-chat. Jeon Jungkook was running late due to something work-related, Mr Jeon had explained to (Y/N). Jungkook’s parents were warm to her, as always. But this time, they seemed to have missed her, for they had brought her a pendent set of sapphire and diamond. 

Two earrings and the delicate but custom-made intricate designed pendant with the blue and white winking stones were surely eye-catching. But it was the single-string bracelet that came with it was the set that made her accept the expensive gift– the most expensive gift she had received from the Jeons yet.

“Oh, don’t you worry child, you deserve it, we have missed you so dearly.” Jungkook’s mother had scoffed away her refusals. 

(Y/N) did not want to seem rude and ungrateful, so she accepted the gift that she knew cost a fortune, but it was probably minimal for the Jeons. Something that Mr Jeon would frequently gift his wife.

There was no doubt that the set was stunning, something one would imagine wearing on the most special days, and on her mother’s insistence, she wore the bracelet for the rest of the dinner.

It was about an hour later and five calls from his father– two of which were never picked up– that Jeon Jungkook rang the bell. His entrance was no dramatic feet or anything, but maybe his transformation was, to some extent.

(Y/N) remembered him as slightly shorter,  of the lithe frame and short hair, a highschooler with doe-eyes(he still had them, gladly), clear skin, except for the occasional pimples and acnes that came with teenage years and pretended to cause havoc.

But this Jungkook was not the boy she remembered him as– he was a man, surely– something not only his towering and perfectly proportioned frame showed, but also his aura. His face was now pristine,honey-shaded porcelain and doll-like lips now sported a piercing, like one of his eyebrows, she had noticed the two dots later.

As soon as his eyes found hers, she found herself containing the urge to gulp as she subconsciously leaned towards George who stood by her.

“(Y/N)! It has been so long huh? I almost did not recognise you.” His smile remained the same, reminding her of a bunny.

“Yes, it has been a while.”

“Six years.” He added as he stood in front of her, towering.

“Six years?” 

No wonder so much changed about him. Jungkook nodded with a smile before his eyes shifted to George.

“Oh, he’s my friend. He joined me here for the holidays.”

George greeted Jungkook with enthusiasm and in return was greeted with warmth. It was barely a problem to teach him about her culture. He knew the culture and language– his mother was Korean and his father was American. He was, evidently, the best of both worlds. It was, after all, the one trait that caught her attention.

The evening rolled on with laughter and a generally light environment until it was time for dessert.

(Y/N) watched as her father rose from his cushioned seat and rang the delicate spoon against the ceramic to gain everyone’s attention, he had it in seconds.

“Since we have all gathered here– I mean each and every one of us–It has been long since we have had such occasions, all the children and the parents–anyway, I’m steering away from the topic– yes, so, we are all here, enjoying dinner and each other’s company after a long time…”

Turning to (Y/N), he offered a smile before continuing–

“You know, I remember both of these just running around the old house, chasing each other, chasing butterflies, cycling– the general stuff. We used to think we had that we had a long way ahead, bringing up the children. And maybe it is true– that’s a long journey…But it certainly did not feel long. All of a sudden, Dayhun was going to a university and (Y/N) was leaving for college– flying to a completely foreign land and we felt jobless.”

The room burst into chuckles. 

“But we were wrong. We were not jobless. Parenthood is a lifetime process. And so is friendship. The Jeons have shown their trust in us by giving Dahyun a chance into a responsible and accessible post as the Operational Manager of the company…”

“And he has not disappointed, no one could have done this job better than Dahyun, the man has worked at the ground level to know the ins and outs.” Mr Jeon commented, smiling at Dahyun

“I agree, I have no idea what I would have done without Dahyun” Jungkook chimed in, patting her brother on the back. He was evidently happy with her brother’s work.

“Yes, so, it would only make sense if we showed our trust in the Jeons too. And when Daejung came to me with a proposal, we immediately recognised it as a sign– a sign to show our trust in the Jeons…By giving our daughter’s hand in marriage to their only son– and a son to us as well– Jungkook.”

The laughter and clapping in the room was muffled in (Y/N)’s ears, all she could hear was her clear, loud and rapid heartbeat– it was like she were in a dream, everything was too slow, too unreal and full of surprises.

Looking around, she caught Jungkook’s eyes, he smiled at her, his gaze set on her– as if reading, calculating.

“Of course, of course if (Y/N) has no problem to the union?” Her father added moments later.

She looked around the expectant gazes set on her frozen form. Jungkook’s expression remained unreadable. 

Shaking off the shock, she prepared herself to tell them the truth– she was in love with George– George Winston.

“Actually I—”

“What a pleasant surprise (Y/N)? Isn’t that great?”

 She was left speechless at George’s interruption, his hand on her shoulder prevented her from rising.

“What are you saying?” She hissed

“Just play along.” He spoke through the grin.

“(Y/N)? Everyone is waiting, child.” It was her mother who spoke out.

Looking at the Jeons, she understood the meaning behind the expensive gift she received. Sapphire was Jungkook’s birthstone and the diamond signified eternal love and beauty.

—-----

“What the fuck were you thinking!” 

“Shh, calm down, your family will hear you.” George tried to pacify pacing (Y/N)

“Let them! I’m not—” she lowered her voice into a whisper “I’m not marrying Jeon Jungkook, I have hardly known him. This is atrocious! How could they do this to me?”

To say that she was upset, would be an understatement. She was on the verge of tears. 

“Why did you do this George? Why? What are you afraid of?”

“Because (Y/N), it's clear who holds the reign here. I did not want to shock and offend everyone like that–rejecting the proposal and then revealing our relationship. A lot depends on the Jeons, you cannot afford to offend them in any way.” 

“Now you are talking like my mother.”

“And she is right (Y/N). We will reveal our relationship, you will not get married to Jungkook, you have my word. (Y/N) I love you! How did you even think that I would let you be married to some other man here?”

“But now what? I said yes, I had to!”

“We will find some other way. The engagement date has not been fixed yet, we have time. We will find a nicer, gentler way– something that would not go against your family’s future (Y/N). Okay?”

She knew that he was right. The Jeons were powerful people, her brother’s career depended on them. She could not counter that. She had to find another way.

—------

There could be no better way than to talk it out to Jeon Jungkook, (Y/N) had figured out. While she knew she should have shared her thoughts with George, she feared he would not see this as she did.

She might not have been very close to Jungkook, but she knew him, he was a well-mannered, mind-tempered boy, given that was the version six years ago, and that she had only met him two days ago…

The realisation made her halt.

The Jungkook she knew was just a high schooler. The man who joined her family for dinner. And he looked different, to put it lightly.

But it was too late, she was already facing the receptionist in the gigantic Jeon Headquarters.

“Welcome Ma’am, I have already informed Mr Jeon of your arrival, he will be here shortly.”

“Eh, is there an appointment under my name?”

The receptionist seemed confused but smiled anyway “Why would you need an appointment, you are our boss’ fiancee.”

“Oh, you know that already?” 

“Ma’am everyone in the office knows who you are, Mr Jeon has—-”

“I’m here, Ara, thank you for informing me and keeping her company.”

Jungkook walked up to both of them with a ghost of a smile etched on his pierced lips. The tiny ring shone, along the theo dots on his eyebrow under the sunlight filtering in through the glass walls.

She expected him to question her, but there were no questions asked, he simply guided her towards the elevator.

“What a pleasant surprise, but since you are here, and I have no tight schedule, why not show you around?” he offered once the elevator doors closed.

“There is no need of that Jungkook—”

“Yes, yes, you already work in the corporate world, an office tour is probably the last thing on your mind, are you hungry? We can go for some brunch.” He continued as they walked inside his office.

His attitude surprised her. Did he not have a lover, an affair? Anything at all? He seemed all too happy to entertain her. Did he have no objection to this marriage at all? He knew her just as much as she did, they never really had any deep conversation.

But now that she came to think about it, he did not show much of a reaction to the wedding announcement.

“Jungkook, I have something important to tell you.” Her words made his steps halt. 

“And I’m all ears.” He hummed before shutting the door for privacy and gesturing for her to take a seat on the leather couch in his office.

Gingerly, she joined him there.

“Jungkook-shi…”

“Jungkook is fine (Y/N), you make me seem like a stranger.” He scoffed playfully.

“Yes, Jungkook…Are you– I mean are you okay with this marriage?”

His smile faltered at that. Though his smile still remained, he frowned

“Why would I have an objection? I always knew that we are going to tie the knot someday."

“What?” She was officially growing resentful of surprises.

Jungkook’s smile returned to its full force, it seemed the same but felt different. His smile did not change much, but it did not reach his eyes either.

“Was it not obvious enough?”

“But I never wanted to marry you.”

The words slipped out before she had the time to sugarcoat them.

She had expected the smile to fall from his face, and it did. But it peeked out in a slow, sinuous manner– she was looking at a completely different man.

But it was too late anyway, she had to take the chance.

“I am...I’m in love with someone else Jungkook.”

There, she had said it out loud and clear. The silence shared between them was nothing if not vaporized tension– it had begun to turn eerie when Jungkook moved– tilting his head as his eyebrow-piercing gleamed ominously.

She cleared her throat but failed to clear the tension. But finally, Jungkook spoke up.

“We were supposed to select the rings today–tch-completely slipped my mind.” He scoffed and the smile returned to his face. “Come on, we need to get there soon, after that, we can have a lavish dinner–what do you think?”

(Y/N) blinked. Did he not hear her?

“Jungkook, I cannot marry you.”

She asserted, looking up at the man who now stood, looming over her like a threat to the future she had pictured with George.

“Of course, you can, Jagi. Now, shall we go?” His palm was large. She observed when he offered it to her graciously.

“Didn’t–did you not hear me?”

Jungkook licked his lips and let the smile fall. He bent on his knee, lowering for her. Up close, she realised that he looked like a completely different man. She could see and feel how well-built he was. The type that would evoke both fear and admiration.

“You are one naive creature…Look around you (Y/N). Everything you see, everything you touch, belongs to the Jeons. Including you and your family.” He spoke as if he was dealing with his daily business- money-matters.

When she refused to move, he sighed and rose up, now looking down at her with pursed lips, as if she were a petulant child. If anything. He was the one with stubbornness, showing his influence in place of stomping his foot.

“Here is how things are going to happen, Honey. You will come with me, choose the rings, we will have lunch, get to the boutique your mother has chosen and choose your wedding gown dress and give them measurements and ideas about your dress, we get dinner, reach your home, eat with your family and I leave after that. Everything would remain normal and I would consider that this conversation never happened. So…”

He offered his palm again.

But this time, a defiant glare replaced the confusion in her eyes.

“And what if I don’t?”

The question hung in the air for a couple of tense moments, before he scoffed, looking away and shaking his head before he bent down smoothly, surprising her into a vulnerable position. She had been surprised by Jungkook, she had been flattered by his exceptional kindness towards her before, but she had never feared him, until now. Up close, with his dark orbs set on her, he was, for the first time, intimidating to her. Her throat dried up as she pressed herself to the leather of the couch.

“If you don’t, I will have your brother removed from every privileged position and favours I have so generously bestowed upon him and make sure your family ends up on the streets. I will make sure your so-called loverboy is removed from every record available– authorities cannot search for a man who does not exist. And you would still be married to me.”

(Y/N) could not decipher what she felt– it was an awful amalgamation of fear, distress, anger, resentment, shock and many more she could not pinpoint. But his words and the promise he held in his sharp gaze left her breathless.

“So,” he moved away, giving her the space to breathe “It is up to you. I know you are not a fool. So, choose wisely– either way, you are going to end up on the wedding altar. I like your family (Y/N), do not make me do things I might regret later, hmm?”

She flinched when the back of his hand touched her cheek, running over her skin delicately as if she was made of glass.

“You know…” She gulped, trying to steady herself and arrange her words right. “You know that you can have anyone you want.”

He nodded with a smug smile tugging his lips “I know, Jagi. And that’s why you are here– the girl I have always wanted. Now, let’s get going, we do not have all day.”

This time, he did not wait for her, he simply, grasped her hand and dragged her along.

—-----

He drove her to an exclusive store that had on display what she had only seen celebrities showing off. The Jeons were not limited to just the town, she had realised during the dinner itself. They had their reach to the capital and beyond.

She remained mostly quiet during her time in the expansive store, and to her pleasure, it evidently irked Jungkook. But she knew that she could not keep this game for long. Such passive actions would only irk him, nothing more. He would still be able to do what he pleased, however, he pleased.

“As amusing and adorable as I find this attitude of yours, I have had a long day and it is getting on me, (Y/N).” He whispered from behind as he locked her gaze through the mirror, the pendant he had chosen for her hung around her neck. 

“Good.” She shot back, glaring at him through the mirror. 

But he only smiled a cold, cryptic smile that made her stomach flip.

“Trust me, Jagi, you would not like to upset me.”

A couple of hours with him and she already felt trapped. There was no question regarding her refusal of this marriage. She did not like Jeon Jungkook, not even one bit. But it was not about just the disdain– it was the fact that she feared him too. She had never found him intimidating before, but the way his large, tattooed hand sat on her shoulder imposingly, she knew that she had to warn George.

—------

“Where were you?” 

Worry would be an understatement to what (Y/N) had been feeling ever since she arrived home and found that George had gone to explore the town all by himself. And he was not answering her calls. She had only managed to call him twice.

Jungkook had filled through each of his words, they had lunch together before he took her to his friend’s boutique where her measurements were taken and designs for the wedding dress had been chosen. After that, they packed an elaborate dinner to share with her family before finally returning home. But of course, Jungkook had to share the dining table with her parents tonight and openly show how delighted he was by the arrangement

“(Y/N), please calm down, I went to—”

“Yeah, Mom told me, you went to explore the town, but why the hell did your phone just kept ringing?”

“I had kept it on silent accidentally (Y/N), I’m sorry okay?” He snapped, his waning patience now visible.

“George, I was worried here! Don’t show me that attitude.”

“Keep your voice down (Y/N), your family will hear you!” He hissed.

“Then let them! It is the only option left now anyway!” She ran her fingers through her hair.

“What do you mean?”

She choose a short pause, feeling drained and helpless like never before. She was not only worried about the marriage now but also about keeping George safe.

“What is it?” Now he sounded concerned, and it made the tears surface.

“George, we need to leave, we all need to leave as soon as possible it is not as simple anymore, I don’t know what my and his family had made a deal about but this marriage cannot be stopped.”

“What are you talking about (Y/N)?”

“George you need to leave, he–he threatened me.” She lowered her voice but the tension remained thick in the air.

“Hey, hey, hey. Calm down, calm down okay? Here, sit.” He gently led her to the bed, making sure she sat comfortably there “I will bring you some water.”

“No I don’t want water George, I want a ticket back. For now, you must leave, so I can deal with everything once you are safe George. You need to leave before he finds out.”

George paused, his eyes narrowing, “What do you mean? Did you…?”  He left the question incomplete, but he needed no more confirmation than her nodding. 

“I had to do something?” She was spelt out hopelessly.

George ran his hand through his dark brown hair, frustration and fear evident in his eyes.

“George we can—”

“Why the hell did you have to go to him when I told you not to? Are you fucking stupid? What the fuck is wrong with you? Fuck!”

He walked away with his hands on his waist before he began pacing in the room.

“George?” She tested the waters.

With a long sigh, that followed a longer pause, he finally looked at her again.

“I didn’t want to do this but…” He shut his eyes tightly, hesitant to continue before letting out another laboured sigh.

“I am not going anywhere (Y/N). I can’t.”

—----

“It's weird Jungkook took you for the wedding dress measurements first, this boy.” 

Aunt Eunhae shook her head as she went through the arrays of silks, satin, cotton and muslin, a woman followed behind her and (Y/N), ready to assist.

Her to-be mother-in-law took it upon herself to pick out the engagement dress. Even if the Jeons preferred to keep a low profile, some guests could not be left out. 

“How about this, child?” She picked out a pale lavender gown that moved with fluidity and appeared just as delicate as it felt comfortable on touch. “I would hate to see my daughter-in-law uncomfortable. I thought we could skip those overly fancy and choose something breathable.”

“Yes, I would like something breathable too. It's so soft.” At least there was something to help her out in the engagement lest she fell into a breathless fit in despair

“Muslin Madames, made with Indian cotton, designed in Milan and the embroidery is hand stitched.”

“You like it? Give it a try.” Aunt Eunhae insisted.

“Okay.” (Y/N) managed a faint smile with a nod.

It turned out that  Aunt Eunhae had an incredible knowledge of textiles as she had exquisite taste. The chiffon outer layer gave the gown all the ramp-up it needed while it was shimmery on the outside, the soft muslin was soothing on her skin. If there was anything she was looking forward to about the engagement, it was wearing this gown.

“You have been so quiet, are you okay?”

Aunt Eunhae’s words made her look up from the menu, not that she was paying attention to that either– she kept floating in and out of her daydreams and thoughts.

“Yes, I am fine, Aunty, don’t worry.”

“Call me Mother now, I have always adored you so much, child.” She waved her hand lightly, (Y/N) smiled but Eunhae’s eyes remained on her “I know that the marriage proposal came abruptly. But I want you to know that I had never seen you as an outsider, child. I adore you, you should know that by now.”

There was no lie to that. Aunt Eunhae always wanted a second child, a daughter, specifically, but due to some complications, they could not have another offspring– Jungkook was their only child. When the (L/N)s came into the picture, (Y/N) filled out the place for a daughter.

“I know, Mother.”

“And so, you should know that my affection for you would not change even if you call off the engagement.”

“Mother?”

She shook her head “I am a middle-aged woman (Y/N), and I can sense cover-ups from miles away. You are not ready for the engagement.

“Was.” (Y/N) corrected.

“Huh?”

“I was not ready, to be honest. But after spending some time with Jungkook… I realised that—” she gulped “That I could give this a chance.”

“Really?” Eunhae’s tone reflected her relief.

“Yes, really.”

—----

The engagement date was fixed just as swiftly as the marriage proposal was presented on her return. Now she doubted whether she would even be returning to America or not.

“You look exquisite, my darling child.” Her mother gushed as she fixed the strands of (Y/N)’s hair– framing her face delicately.

She wore a necklace of freshwater pearls, the subtle lavender lustre went perfectly well with the gown. The set contained a pair of tear-drop earrings, and a single strand of the necklace with an amethyst in the centre, sitting perfectly in the middle.

The engagement was to take place at Jeon Mansion– or so she thought.

It was the Jeons' permanent home but not the mansion she remembered from her early days was no more there. She had only been there a handful of times, and they were renovating and expanding but she had never thought of it growing into an estate- Servant Quarters littered near the main building, crafted gardens, a man-made pond hosting varieties of koi fish, a number of dogs, a ground for golf, and the rest was yet to be discovered. 

The Jeons were royals.

“You are going to live here, you see? Jungkook is their only child (Y/N), you will be the queen of this estate!”

“I know, Mom, and that makes you very happy.”

(Y/N) did not bother to hide her spite as she sat stiffly in the car her mother drove. Her brother and father were already in the mansion.

The said mansion was perfectly suited for the expansive estate– it was an imposing building with elements of modern and traditional architecture fused to stun.

“Did you and Jungkook have a disagreement? Do not worry about that child. Once you are married, your husbands are bound to listen. Eunhae adores you, mr Jeon loves you too and Jungkook, have you seen his eyes whenever he looks at you?”

“Yes, Mom, I now see how he looks at me.” She replied flatly, her mind going back to a week ago.

+----+

“I’m not going anywhere (Y/N), I can’t.” 

“What?” (Y/N)’s voice refused to rise above a whisper “What do you mean George?”

George did not reply– only ran his fingers through his hair and looked away.

“George, I’m asking  you something, George!”

“I didn’t want to do this! I did not want to risk so many lives…”

“George, what are you saying? I don’t understand…”

George looked at her with eyes she felt foreign to. Without another word, he picked up his travel bag, opened it and from somewhere deep within, fished out a card.

An Identity Card.

Police.

+----+

The mansion was twinkling with all the lighting arrangements, simply as per Aunt Eunhae’s taste- simple, delicate but unique. The said woman was waiting by the entrance with her husband and the rest of their families. 

(Y/N) smiled at her brother and father approaching 

“For once, you do not look like an ape.” There he was, her most beloved brother.

“At least come up with a better insult, I have been hearing the same since I was six.”

“Because that was when I found out that I have an ape for a sister.”

“Okay now, Dahyun, let your sister be for once, it's her engagement today.” Their mother chided him.

Dahyun only shrugged “Save your tears for the wedding Mom.”

“I am not in tears honey, but look at that nervous smile you have.”

Dahyun only rolled his eyes before leading (Y/N) inside the mansion. The celebration hall was not let stuffed with people, but there were close friends and family members around. And they all were so warm and welcoming, it made her wonder what wrong might at occurred during Jeon Jungkook’s birth. 

He was such an entitled—

As if her thoughts summoned the devil, he appeared, seemingly out of thin air, with a smile that made him look just as much of an ideal as he looked gorgeous– she had to admit that the man could turn head wherever he went. 

She noticed that he chose to match the colours– a white shirt, pale lavender blazer and trousers along with his hair brushed back and tied into a bun. He was a sight to behold, but his eyes could make the devil proud.

“You look ravishing, Jagi.”

His compliment brought ‘awws’ giggles and whistles from the people around, but she could only manage a smile. That was all she could come up with at the moment. Her eyes flickered, and she spotted George in the corner with ease.

Gulping down a scowl, she looked away. She had been too ignorant, too naive, that was why she was where she was.

“Smile, Love,” Jungkook whispered to her as he led her towards the couch reserved for them.“Look around you, the people love you because you are going to be a part of the family. Is it so bad to become my wife? Be the mistress of the household? Have everything on your fingertips?”

Yes!

Yes, it is.

She remained quiet, sitting beside him like a lifeless doll.

“Answer me (Y/N)...”

I NEVER WANTED THIS!

She wanted to scream it out, it was a cliff on one end and a well on the other, nowhere to go. Betrayal on one side and an unwanted union on the other.

Jungkook did not poke further, only sighed softly and held her closer. She was thankful for the little kindness. 

Her eyes found George again, he stood at the corner, with her brother, both of them enjoying the delicacies and drinks being served.

+----+

“What…what is this George?”

It was like her mind had numbed down suddenly, frozen, unable to function, unable to read the letters properly. But she knew, deep inside her mind she knew what it was leading to.

“That is not my real name. I can’t tell you my real name yet.”

She remained quiet, still processing. But he continued.

“We have been tracking Jeon Jungkook for a while now. He is not the businessman he shows himself to be. He is involved in the illegal drug buisness and weapons supplies. His father started it, but it was only the headache of this government. But by the time Jeon Jungkook took over, the business has expanded its reach, it is an international matter. We have been keeping an eye on him for the last seven years– as he was the only known heir to his father’s throne. The Jeons dominated the underbelly of this nation, and they have no intention to stop. We were growing desperate. Jeon Junhae was a far-sighted, clever man, he covered his steps well, cooked the black into white and kept the price. Jeon Jungkook is four steps ahead of his father. We needed a weak string.” 

He paused and eyed her still form, before looking away to continue.

“And then, one of our informants here was able to gain access to his room. We did not find anything substantial business-wise but we found a photo album. It was you. Each and every picture was yours, and there were also some sketches of you. The earliest of them was when you were fourteen or fifteen maybe. We found our way into the wolf’s lair.”

This time, she stumbled back, almost tripping before ‘George’ caught her, worry flashed in his eyes along with sympathy, but there was not a trace of regret. Gently, he helped her sit on the bed.

“I was assigned this…Project.” He eyed her warily as he confessed.

Project…

The time they shared, their relationship, their moments, their nights, their days, their love…Everything was reduced to ashes... No, a ‘Project’

How many people had made her a pawn in their games?

“Please tell me it’s all a li-lie, please George, I will be reduced to nothing…Do you even hear yourself? We have three whole years George! Please…”

She reached her hand to hold his, and even with her tightening grasp and begging, his fingers remained loose and still as if he were an unfeeling puppet

“George…” She sobbed out, her emotions running everywhere as her thoughts. 

This could not be possibly true? 

Why must fate be so cruel to her? Why must she suffer for others’ greed?

+----+

“Today, we gather here to witness the testament of Mr Jeon and Mr (L/N)’s friendship as we attend the engagement of two lovely souls, the apple of the eyes of their respective families– Jeon Jungkook, my best friend and boss, and my beloved little sister, my baby, (L/N) (Y/N).”

At Dahyun’s words, the room erupted in smiles and clappings. Happiness and flamboyance echoed through the walls of the Jeon Estate as Jungkook slipped the engagement ring over her finger– the sapphire fit perfectly. But she felt a snake wounding around her finger, trying to crush her will.

But she smiled through it all. She had to.

+---+

“You drag me into the games of yours, you use me and yet have the audacity to ask this?” Anger was a far cry from what she felt. Even she could not pinpoint the exact emotion.

“Your brother and father are close to Jeon Junhae and his son– our main target– Jeon Jungkook. If you do not help me, help us, they are going to be treated criminally by the law too. Their involvement is too deep for the government to give them a clean chit (Y/N). One way or the other, we will expose Jeon Jungkook and his father, your family is going to be wrapped in the dirt, even if they might be innocent.”

“They are. Innocent.” She glared at the man in front of her. It was like a  stranger had slipped under George’s skin.

‘George’ nodded grimly “I can believe you. But the court runs on evidence, (Y/N), and their close associating with the Jeons would only act against them.”

(Y/N)’s shoulder sagged at his words. Her mind ran miles but found no respite.

“I know that you love your family (Y/N), you would do anything for them. This is the easiest way to save them. Work with us to bring Jeon Jungkook down and we will make sure that your family is saved.”

“You just told me that they are dangerous people…” She whispered.

“We assure you that you will have people watching over you in the mansion, your safety is our responsibility. If you choose to help us. You are the most efficient way to reach Jungkook and expose him. He is in love with you, to put it lightly.”

“When…When this is over, my family will be safe?”

“You have my word.”

She narrowed her eyes at the response.

“You lied to me before, I have no reason to believe in your ‘word’.”

The man nodded

“I understand your lack of trust. But I want you to know that I do not mean any harm to you or your family. I did betray you, but only because I am devoted to my uniform and the duties that come with it. You know that too (Y/N). I know you would never want to be trapped with a man like Jungkook. I offer you and your family a new life once this is over. But you will have to help us (Y/N), get to us all the crucial information we will need.”

She simply sat there, still and numb.

She could not even bring herself to look at the man in front of her anymore. 

“I will leave you alone for now. Get some rest.”

With that, ‘George’ began to walk out of the room.

“George.”

 When she finally gathered the courage to look up, his back was already turned to her. He stilled but did not turn around. But she could not care about that anymore. She could not afford to– even if it tore her apart.

“Can I ask for another favour?” 

There was no response but an empty silence. 

“When all this is over…Please do not show your face to me ever again.”

He said nothing, only walked away in silence, leaving her all alone in the quiet night.

+----+

The ring twinkled under the light. It was lovely to look at, and it felt even more unreal with Jungkook holding her hand so delicately. When it was her turn to put a ring on his finger, she felt cold. When she was a moment late, Jungkook’s hand wrapped around hers before he gave it a gentle squeeze, and she was not sure if it was a gesture of reassurance or a threat.

But she managed to gear up a faint smile anyway and slid the ring on his finger before he rose his hand to proudly display it, evoking cheers, hooting, lighter and claps.

“Congratulations on your engagement kids!”

Who was holding the mic? Oh, it was Jeon Junhae, his father.

Confetti flew around with balloons being tossed in the air as Jungkook pulled her close to him.

Camera flashes flooded out, the champagne bottles popped open, and people rushed in the greet Jungkook and her, to have a better look at her. And she braced for it all.

The word was cheering, but she wore a smile to hide her tears.

****

So here it is, finally. Incredibly late but done at last. At this rate, I think before I complete my second request, I would be greeting everyone with a happy new year.

Please let me know what you think of this as a reader, constructive criticism is always welcome.

Now I can begin working on the final part of hyungline and hopefully, it would not take an eternity.

The Broken Vow

Description: You met your husband when you were children, foolishly following the pull of first love. Nothing seemed impossible with him holding your hand; dreams and hopes at your fingertips. But when an accident happened, and you were left alone in this world, you learned how to rebuild it without him. Years later he’s back by your side, the only problem – he’s not too keen on having been replaced. It’s not your fault…right?

Warnings: manipulation, yandere, hospitals, divorce, mentions of death, angst, weight loss (not by MC), power corruption, self-condemnation. Please keep in mind this is a yandere story.

Word Count: ~13.5k

One-shot

!In no way of shape and form do I think this is how Jungkook acts in real life, this is pure work of fiction, so if you choose to read it, please keep that in mind!

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Hello there! Could you write an obsessive yandere jungkook (who has an oppa kink) stalking his mechanic crush (that’s younger than him) and wondering what she keeps her so busy whenever he asks to hang out with her and come to find out, she turns out to be a yandere too after placing tracking devices in the majority of his posessions? This doesn’t make any sense tbh T^T

Hidden Blessing

✂ Pairing: Yandere! Jeon Jeongguk x Yandere! Reader

✂ Word Count: 1,7k+

✂ Trigger Warning: Obsessiveness, toxic relationship, stalking, reader being a yandere for the first time

✂ This story is fictional and for amusement only. I don’t believe any of the members would do this in real life. As always, thank you for reading and I hope you have a good day!

Donot re-upload my writing to another website or use it without mypermission.

[Edited]

***

Yandere reader, huh? I’ve certainly never tried this before, but I do think about it once in a while. And also, I don’t know much about mechanical stuffs. So, pardon me if this came out strange and Jungkook wasn’t obsessive enough. I feel a bit tired recently.

If you like mywriting, please support me on ko-fi!

“I want you to want me. I need you to need me. I’d love you to love me. I’m beggin’ you to beg me.” – I Want You To Want Me [Cheap Trick]

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