Reverie — the state of being lost in your own thoughts; a daydream.
Smeraldo — the truth I couldn't tell.
Put them together and you will get my name:
● Imperfectly translates to: my truth which I can't tell is my daydream.
● Quite literal: my daydreams are the truth I don't say out loud.
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My Works:
(All headers are and will be hyperlinks)ongoing:
🇨🇴🇲🇮🇳🇬 🇸🇴🇴🇳:
(There will be more)
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Like most I am in this constant state of on and off. Not unhealthy but something very wealthy. It feeds me well. My demons inside that crave nothing more than to write more. For you, for all. But foremost my sanity that is kept calm when words flow out. Perfect as I like them. Sultry soft and piping hot as you'll crave them.
I'm not a softie but my words sometimes can be. Here in this blog nothing will be of that sort. I'll write dark, real. Either hot and gripping. This is not only about your guilty pleasure reads. It's about depth you might forget exists in reality.
My work exists hence for. I'll wrap reality with fiction for the best of what I think I can create. What I believe I could try and succeed as we proceed in this journey together.
So if you're soft hearted. Someone who craves comfort and sweet ends. Leave.
You'll find fragments, longer works, poems, thoughts or just anything literary that I feel is literally worth our while.
I'm new here so I'm still trying to figure this platform out. If there's mistakes or something you like or wanna suggest my inbox's available.
"Confess, my love xoxo"
I won't explain or apologize for what I write. As it's pure fiction. And I'm believing you're smart enough to know that no one would intentionally hurt another.
Your suggestions will be welcomed and respected but that won't mean they'll be implemented that is if I don't approve of them.
I am going to try my hand in oneshots as well so feel free to give me any ideas you want to see becoming reality.
I'm a hot med hence I'm busy with my personal life and studies. Updates can be slow but worth your while.
Welcome to my reverie,
Stay if you can handle intensity as I write and learn more by time. Writing stories that'll grip you and suck you in, in no time.
—hquee💋
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Reblogs keep this reverie alive. Comments and notes tell me that you felt something ⭑.ᐟ
Requested by scyla4312 [at wattpad]
SYNOPSIS: When a mysterious siren emerges from the ocean, terrorizing a quiet island, the villagers call upon a feared pirate, Taehyung, to hunt her down. But the siren, Y/N, is unlike any creature they've faced silent, fierce, and mesmerizing. Caught by Taehyung's crew, she becomes the center of desire and conflict: Jungkook sees her as a treasure to possess, while Taehyung recognizes her as a being with feelings, sparking a dangerous game of obsession, jealousy, and survival in the shadows of the sea.
GENRE: Dark Fantasy / Mystery / Thriller / Yandere
WC: 16.4k
The night on Blackwater Island was unusually warm, the air heavy with the scent of salt and burning lantern oil. The fishermen had returned from a long, fruitless day, their nets empty, their bodies aching. So, as always, they gathered on the sand with clay mugs full of cheap rum, letting exhaustion melt under drunken laughter.
Raejoon, the youngest of the group, stumbled away from the circle with a loud hiccup. "Damn it, I need to piss," he muttered, pushing through the tall bushes by the shore. He expected nothing but the quiet scratch of leaves and the distant, stable rhythm of waves, the sound he'd heard since childhood. But tonight, the ocean was different.
A strange hum, low and musical, drifted from the water. It wasn't quite singing, not quite crying something in between something wrong. Raejoon froze. The waves crashed louder than before, almost angry, almost alive.
"What the hell...?" He stepped closer, drawn like a moth to flame. The moon hung full and white above the black ocean, turning the water into moving silver glass. And buried beneath that shine was a ripple. Something shifting. Something big.
He blinked, confused. Maybe he was too drunk. Then, the hum grew louder. Feminine. Soft and absolutely inhuman. His heartbeat slammed against his chest. He should run. He should scream. But the sound pulled him forward like invisible hands wrapping around his skull.
"Guys...?" he whispered, though his voice was hardly sound. Suddenly, silence. The ocean went dead calm, unnaturally still. Raejoon squinted, leaning over the edge of the rocks to see what lurked below.
That's when he saw it. Two glowing, cold blue lights staring straight up at him eyes that didn't blink. Eyes that weren't human. He stumbled backward so hard he fell into the sand, breath leaving his lungs in a harsh gasp.
From behind him, his friends heard the crash and ran toward him.
"Raejoon! What happened?"
"You look like you've seen a ghost!"
He pointed to the water with a trembling hand.
"Something's there... some creature- eyes- it was looking at me!"
They exchanged a confused look, until the oldest among them lifted his oil lamp toward the sea. The flame flickered violently. The shadows deepened and then, he saw movement too. A silhouette in the water, shaped like a woman but longer, smoother. The lower body curved like a serpent beneath the surface. The bravest of the men, Seohwa, cursed under his breath and drew the fishing knife strapped to his belt.
"I'm not afraid of some sea ghost," he spat. Before anyone could stop him, he stormed into the water, splashing his way deeper, lamp light trembling behind him. The waves parted around him like they were scared to touch him.
"Come out, monster!" he shouted. But the ocean didn't roar. It didn't respond. It waited. Seohwa lifted the knife, ready to strike blindly into the dark water and that was exactly the mistake she wanted. A pale hand shot out of the ocean with unnatural speed and precision fingers long, cold, wet, and too strong to be human.
She grabbed his ankle.
"WHAT- !"
Before the others could blink, before the knife even hit the water, she yanked him down with brutal force. The ocean swallowed him whole. His scream didn't reach the surface. The others watched helplessly as Seohwa's body disappeared into the black depths, the only trace of him a swirl of bubbles rising like dying prayers.
Raejoon fell to his knees, horrified.
The humming started again but now it was lower, darker almost satisfied. From beneath the waves, those same glowing blue eyes appeared again, staring at the terrified men. Silent. Unblinking. Hungry. The siren had arrived and the island would never sleep peacefully again.
-------
By dawn, Blackwater Island woke to screams. Seohwa's friends burst into the village square, soaked, shaking, babbling about glowing eyes and a creature that dragged a grown man into the ocean like he was nothing more than a pebble. Mothers pulled their children off the sand instantly, clutching them tight. Fathers stood guard near the shoreline, gripping rusted spears and farming tools as if they were weapons fit for war.
The sea, once a place of laughter, play, and routine now murmured with a sinister calm. Every splash sounded like a warning. Every wave carried the echo of last night's hum.
No one dared go near the water.
Fishermen refused to push their boats out. The nets lay dry and useless. The morning catch, their livelihood remained untouched and for the first time in decades, the island smelled not of salt and fish... but of fear.
Children cried, asking why the ocean was angry. Old women prayed to the sea gods, throwing handfuls of flowers into the waves. Teenagers climbed onto rooftops, refusing to take one more step near the shore.
The village chief, Elder Hwan watched all of this with a heavy heart. His people had lived by this ocean for generations. The sea fed them, healed them, raised them. But now. The sea had taken one of their own and the glowing creature lurking beneath the surface could take more.
He paced inside his wooden hall, gripping his cane. His mind raced with images of the creature Raejoon described pale hands, glowing eyes, a voice that twisted the ocean itself. He couldn't let this become their fate. Not for the children who played in the shallows. Not for the mothers who collected shells at dawn. Not for the men who made their living from the waters.
This island was their home. A monster had no right to drive them away. He slammed his cane against the floor.
"No," he muttered to himself. "We will not run. We will not abandon our land." There was only one answer. One man powerful enough to hunt what the sea hid. One man feared by monsters and men alike.
A pirate whose name carried weight across all seven islands. Captain Kim Taehyung.
But Taehyung was never in one place for long. His ship moved from island to island, protecting, trading, fighting, ruling the waters like some dark, silent king. He came only when he chose to or when someone dared summon him.
Elder Hwan sat at his table, ink trembling in his old hands as he wrote the letter:
"Captain Kim Taehyung, ruler of the Black Sea routes, A creature of unnatural origin threatens our island.
It has taken one of our men. It lurks beneath our waters, eyes glowing like death itself. Our children cannot play. Our people cannot fish. Our home is no longer safe. We beg of you, hunt this creature before it hunts us.
Name your price. The island will pay whatever you demand."
He pressed his seal into the hot wax, eyes filled with desperation, the kind that only a man responsible for lives could feel. He handed the letter to a young rider. "Take this," the elder whispered, voice breaking. "Find his ship. No matter where he sails." The rider nodded, fear paling his face.
The elder watched him disappear down the dusty path and exhaled shakily. Would Taehyung come? Would he listen?
--------
Far from Blackwater Island, another island was drowning in chaos. A massive shadow swam beneath the boats a shark, bigger than any the villagers had ever seen. It tore nets, sank rafts, and dragged two men screaming into the depths and that's when his ship arrived.
A dark vessel with dragon carvings along the bow. Black sails stitched with silver thread that glimmered under the sun. The ship that islanders only whispered about. The Black Serpent and at the front of it stood a man with a long coat whipping in the wind, eyes sharp and unreadable.
Captain Kim Taehyung.
He didn't yell. He didn't panic. He simply watched the water the slight ripple, the hint of movement and lifted his harpoon like he was greeting an old friend.
"On my mark," he murmured. His crew tightened their grip on ropes, readying the trap. The shark lunged upward, jaws opening wide. Taehyung threw. The harpoon spun like lightning through the air, hitting the beast straight in the skull. Blood erupted into the water. The shark thrashed violently, shaking the ocean around them.
"Pull!" Taehyung commanded.
Men hauled ropes, muscles burning, faces red with strain. Finally, with one massive heave, the giant shark collapsed onto the deck, shaking the planks beneath them. The villagers watching from shore gasped and cheered with tears in their eyes. But Taehyung wasn't done. With a casual swagger, he walked to the creature's open jaw and reached inside.
A small metal box rattled against his fingers.
He smiled. "Treasure." The villagers had no idea the shark swallowed it or what that treasure even was. But Taehyung knew how to smell secrets and today, he had won both a beast and a prize. He wiped blood from his fingers and signaled to his crew.
"We're leaving." That was when one of his men, Baejin, ran toward him, panting.
"Captain- a letter. Urgent." Taehyung groaned, stretching his sore shoulders. "Another island? Another problem?" He scoffed. "I'm too tired for more heroics. I want to enjoy what I've earned today."
His men smirked, Taehyung was known for being cunning, taking what the sea owed him before anyone else realized it was missing. "Just read it," Baejin said breathlessly. Taehyung sighed dramatically. "I don't feel like reading today. You read it."
Baejin opened the seal, cleared his throat, and read.
Taehyung paused. He had hunted sharks, krakens, rogue pirates, sea serpents but never something like this. A creature with glowing eyes? A feminine voice in the waves? A monster that pulled a grown man under instantly? His heartbeat quickened not in fear, but interest. "Myths," he muttered. "Only seen in books. And even then... only drawings."
But the ocean had always been deeper than stories.
He stared at the horizon, the sun sinking behind dark clouds. He didn't know what waited under those waters but something inside him whispered. It's real and if it wasn't? "Then," Taehyung said, coldly smirking, "they'll pay for wasting my time."
He turned to his crewmate. "Send word to Jungkook." Baejin blinked. "Your partner? Should he know too?"
Taehyung nodded slowly, eyes sharp. "If there's a creature we've never seen before, Jungkook will want it. Whether for the thrill... or for something darker."
He stepped closer, voice low. "And if he hears it from someone else, he'll go after it alone. I won't let that happen." The wind picked up, rattling the ship. Taehyung smirked.
"Prepare the ship. We're sailing to Blackwater Island."
------
The ship rocked gently on the dark water, lanterns swaying with the breeze as though keeping rhythm with Jungkook's sins. His private cabin smelled of sea-salt, wine, and the faint perfume of the woman beneath him. Moonlight spilled through the round window, silvering the lines of his bare back as he moved slow, unbothered, taking his time like the entire ocean bowed to him.
The woman beneath him whimpered his name, nails digging into his shoulders. He only smirked, breathless, lips brushing her neck. "Louder," he whispered, voice low, playful, dominant.
A sharp knock cracked through the room.
Jungkook didn't even pause. The woman jolted, trying to cover herself, but Jungkook pressed her back down with one hand, gaze fixed on the door. "Come in," he drawled, not bothering to lift his head from the woman's throat.
Baejin pushed the door open, stiff as a board, eyes landing directly on the scene he definitely didn't want to see. But he didn't flinch. He had seen Jungkook in worse positions, worse places, with more than one woman. Still, he couldn't help that tiny twitch in his jaw.
"Sir Jungkook," Baejin started. Jungkook finally lifted his head, hair messy, lips swollen, sweat glistening down his neck. He looked beautiful, dangerous, and absolutely shameless.
"What?" Jungkook grunted, hips still moving, completely unfazed.
Baejin exhaled through his nose, holding out the sealed letter. "A new offer. From the shoreline traders. Taehyung asked you to hear this."
Jungkook didn't take the letter. He didn't even free a hand. His smirk widened lazily. "You see my hands are busy..." he murmured, voice dripping with wicked amusement. "Read it."
Baejin blinked. "Sir, with all due r-"
Jungkook cut him off with a low groan as the woman arched beneath him. "Read. The. Damn. Letter, Baejin," he growled, breathlessly, like he was giving an order mid-battle.
Baejin straightened immediately, resigned. He broke the seal, unfolded the parchment, and began reading over the sound of Jungkook's ragged breaths, the creaking bed, and the woman's stifled moans. As the words left Baejin's mouth, treasure deeper than any map, the myth of a creature no man has survived, a sea untouched, unclaimed Jungkook finally paused.
Slowly, he stilled. He looked up. Eyes dark, intrigued, hungry. A smirk curled over his lips.
"Well," Jungkook murmured, brushing hair from his face, chest rising and falling, "tell Taehyung..." His midnight eyes glinted with danger.
"...I'm interested."
-------
The deck groaned under the weight of supplies as the crew prepared the ship for their next hunt. Waves slapped against the hull in steady rhythm, the wind sharp with the promise of storms. Taehyung stood near the bow, coat fluttering, eyes on the dark horizon where the sea merged with clouds. His jaw was set, mind already calculating plans, maps, risks.
He leaned on the railing beside Taehyung, arms crossed, hair still damp from whatever scandalous business he had left unfinished below. The smug grin on his face was practically permanent.
"So," Jungkook drawled, licking his bottom lip as though still tasting triumph. "How long until we reach this... mysterious sea everyone's so afraid of?"
Taehyung didn't look at him at first. "By sunrise tomorrow," he answered calmly. "If the winds don't change."
A spark lit in Jungkook's eyes. "Good. I'm excited to see it." He tilted his head, smirk sharpening. "This time I'll help you kill that creature."
Taehyung finally turned to him, eyes sliding up and down slowly, unimpressed. "Oh?" he murmured. "Like you 'helped' with the shark?"
Jungkook's jaw flexed but only for a second. Taehyung continued, voice dripping mockery, "Because if I remember correctly... you were busy." He didn't have to specify with what. Everyone knew.
Jungkook clicked his tongue. "I told you the plan. Without me, that treasure wouldn't be yours."
Taehyung shrugged, a lazy roll of his shoulders. "True. But when the time came to actually kill it-" He tapped Jungkook's chest with two fingers. "you were too distracted to swing your sword."
The jab landed. Harder than Taehyung expected. Jungkook's smile faded into a thin line. His eyes, dark and stormy, flickered jealousy sharp as a knife before he masked it behind a smirk again.
"Tch," Jungkook scoffed softly. "Well... killing this creature will make us even more famous." He leaned closer. "The most dangerous pirates alive. You and me."
Taehyung hummed. "Me, for killing it." He let that hang in the air, sweet and poisonous. "And you... for being the one who watched."
Jungkook's nostrils flared. Taehyung's lips curved as he turned away, pretending not to notice the storm he'd stirred. Jungkook moved beside him again, this time shoulders touching deliberate, challenging.
"Don't get too ahead of yourself," Jungkook said quietly, voice dropping to a low warning. "This time, I won't let you steal the glory."
Taehyung glanced at him, eyes glittering with mischief. "Steal?" he echoed. "You can't steal what someone else drops on the floor."
It hit Jungkook dead center. His pride. His competitiveness. His unspoken need to match Taehyung blow for blow.
A flicker of hurt flashed in Jungkook's eyes quick, raw before he buried it behind a cocky smirk.
"You'll see," Jungkook whispered, stepping back. "I'm not losing this one."
Taehyung let out a soft laugh, turning back to the sea. "I hope you don't," he said under his breath. "But knowing you..." His eyes narrowed at the waves. "...distractions always find you first."
Jungkook walked away with clenched fists, jaw tight.
But Taehyung didn't miss the way he muttered, too low for anyone else. "I won't let you outrun me again."
------
The pirates' ship cut through the morning fog like a beast returning to shore. Its black sails towered over the little island port, and when it docked, the wood beneath it groaned as if shrinking away in fear. One by one Taehyung's men climbed down broad shoulders, scarred faces, heavy boots thudding against the sand, swords glinting at their hips and guns strapped across their backs. Even the way they moved felt dangerous. The villagers, small and soft in comparison, watched from a distance. None dared to take a step closer.
As ropes were tossed, anchoring the ship, Baejin frowned. "Why aren't they coming closer?" he muttered. "Aren't they supposed to welcome us?"
Jeon Jungkook, still adjusting the leather strap across his chest, smirked without even looking. "That's the aura we carry," he said proudly, rolling his shoulders back as if inviting people to stare.
Baejin exhaled sharply. "Right... of course."
At last, the elder, back bent but steps steady forced himself to walk forward. His palms were trembling, but his gaze stayed locked on Taehyung, who stepped down from the ship with calm authority. His coat brushed the sand as he approached, eyes sharp, presence heavy enough to silence even the ocean breeze.
Behind the elder, Raejoon stood pale and stiff, clutching his trembling hands together as he watched Jungkook. Jungkook wasn't even paying attention to him, he had wandered near the shoreline, kicking at shells, scanning the water with a bored expression. But to Raejoon, every step Jungkook took felt like a trigger, a reminder. The exact patch of sand Jungkook stood on that was where it happened.
Taehyung noticed Raejoon's stare and followed his line of sight. "Is something bothering you?" Taehyung asked, voice low but steady.
Raejoon swallowed hard, jaw quivering before he found the courage to speak. "T-That spot... where your man is standing..." He pointed weakly toward Jungkook. "That's where the creature appeared. W-Where it dragged my friend into the ocean... the water didn't even reach our knees."
Silence fell. Even the waves seemed to listen.
Taehyung's eyes sharpened, drifting from Raejoon to Jungkook. Jungkook was barely ankle-deep in water, unconcerned, staring at the ocean like it was nothing but a playground.
Taehyung's thoughts twisted dark.
That close? That shallow? A creature strong enough to pull a full-grown man under, hiding in waters that gentle?
His jaw tightened.
The siren wasn't a myth and she wasn't lurking in the deep. She was right here, close enough to touch the shore.
--------
Jungkook finally stepped out of the water, shaking droplets from his hands as though he had been playing instead of scouting. The waves brushed harmlessly against his ankles as he returned to shore, expression relaxed, not a hint of concern in his eyes. "Tch," he scoffed, brushing past the villagers. "There's nothing there. You all are just scared of your own shadows."
Raejoon flinched backward as Jungkook passed him. His face turned pale. "No!" he shouted suddenly, voice breaking with fear. "I saw it! I saw the creature! It pulled my friend down- right there!" He jabbed a shaking finger toward the ocean where Jungkook had just been standing. "It took him. H-He didn't come up... he didn't come back..."
The elder placed a heavy hand on Raejoon's shoulder and nodded, grief etched into the lines of his face. "He speaks the truth. The man is missing. It... it must be the creature's doing."
His voice trembled, but he forced himself to hold Taehyung's gaze. "That's why we called for you."
Taehyung inhaled slowly, eyes drifting from the calm ocean to the broken man in front of him. His mind traced the timeline. The screams, the disappearance, the shallow waters. Why would the creature attack a man in knee-deep water? Why show itself? Why risk being seen?
Sirens never acted without reason.
Before he could speak, Jungkook lifted his chin arrogantly. "Then we set a trap tonight." He pointed casually toward the shoreline, the same cursed spot Raejoon had indicated. "If that's where it took him, then that's where we wait. It'll come again."
Taehyung's brows furrowed. "It won't," he said firmly. "Creatures like that don't repeat their mistakes. It won't come back to the same place."
Jungkook rolled his eyes. "Hyung... whatever it is, it's still an animal." He waved his hand dismissively. "A dumb sea animal with instincts, not intelligence."
Raejoon shook his head violently. "No... no, it wasn't an animal-"
But Jungkook didn't even bother to look at him. He stepped closer to Taehyung instead, voice dropping lower, tone sharpening with challenge. "We set the trap," Jungkook continued. "We stay hidden, armed, and alert. If it took the bait once, it'll take it again. And when it does-" A dark smirk tugged at his lips. "we'll be ready to put a blade in its skull."
Taehyung watched Jungkook silently. The wind shifted.
The ocean remained calm. But something in Taehyung's gut told him Jungkook had made a mistake, a fatal one.
This wasn't a beast acting on instinct.
It was something else. Something older. Something watching and Jungkook had just invited it.
-------
Night settled thick and heavy over the island, the sky swallowed by clouds, the moon only a pale bruise behind them. Taehyung, Jungkook, and a handful of their strongest men crouched along the shoreline, weapons hidden, eyes fixed on the restless sea. They had set the traps carefully bait, ropes, sharpened hooks all placed exactly where Raejoon swore the creature emerged. But the ocean remained stubbornly silent.
Minutes turned into hours. Hours into cold, dragging midnight. A yawn broke from Jungkook first.
"For fuck's sake..." he muttered, kicking a pebble into the water. "There's nothing here. We're sitting in the dark watching waves. Waves!" His stomach grumbled loudly. "And I'm starving- starving for what? For a ghost story?"
Baejin bit his lip, shoulders shaking with contained laughter. Jungkook narrowed his eyes immediately. "Don't." His voice was low. Deadly.
Baejin straightened instantly. "I- I didn't laugh."
"You did." Jungkook shot him a glare that could cut steel. "You think this is funny?"
"No, Jeon," Baejin said quickly, though the corners of his mouth betrayed him. Jungkook hissed under his breath and crossed his arms like an irritated child.
Taehyung didn't comment. He was drifting too sleep tugging at his bones, the dull lull of waves brushing the sand almost hypnotic. The cool wind slid across his cheeks, making his eyes heavier, lashes lowering.
Then, something shifted. A soft sound. A breath? A whisper? He wasn't sure. But it came from his left. From deeper in the trees. From the darker part of the shore where the water no longer kissed your ankles, it swallowed you whole.
Taehyung stood silently.
Jungkook looked up. "Where are you going?"
"To wash my face," Taehyung murmured, voice thick with fatigue.
Jungkook waved a lazy hand. "Fine. Don't drown."
Taehyung ignored the comment and slipped away into the shadows.
The sand grew colder under his boots as he walked. Pine trees bent overhead, blocking most of the sky. He reached a small patch where the land dipped sharply into deeper water black, unmoving, far too quiet. He rested a hand on a tree trunk for balance, crouched, then knelt.
The water was icy. It reflected nothing. Just darkness. Taehyung cupped some in his hand and splashed it onto his face. It helped a little, cooling the heaviness in his head. He leaned forward and dipped his face again, long enough for the cold to sting his skin.
When he lifted his head, he ruffled his hair back, exhaling slowly. But something tugged at him a strange curiosity.
A pull.
He bent again, letting his face sink beneath the surface. This time he opened his eyes and saw them.
Eyes. Glowing. Blue. Watching him from below.
His lungs froze. He jerked upward, but the surface showed nothing. Only the rippling water trailing down his chin.
His heart hammered. He leaned in again, breath trembling with fear, pushing his face beneath the surface to confirm what he saw and something cold wrapped around his wrist. Before Taehyung could gasp, scream, or even blink.
He was yanked underwater with brutal force. The world above shattered into bubbles. The dark sea swallowed him whole.
-------
Taehyung's scream never escaped his throat, the ocean swallowed it as he was dragged down in a violent whirl of bubbles. His eyes snapped open, burning with salt, and the world became nothing but darkness and movement. Something held him tight, cold fingers wrapped around his neck, pulling him deeper and deeper.
Then he saw her.
Her face emerged from the shadows first ghostly pale, framed with strands of hair floating like ink in the water. Her eyes glowed an unnatural shade of blue, bright enough to burn through the blackness around them. Feminine. Beautiful. Terrifying. Her torso was human-like, bare, the curves of her figure unnatural in how still and fluid they moved. But below the waist, scales shimmered in a gradient of deep green and dark sapphire. A long, powerful tail slashed through the water, moving with predatory grace.
A creature straight from myths impossible. Yet she was here, inches from his face.
Her nails dug deeper into his throat, squeezing, choking. Taehyung's lungs screamed for air as he clawed at her wrist, but she was unnervingly strong far stronger than any human. The pressure around his neck tightened, black spots forming at the edges of his vision. She pulled him closer, inspecting him, as though deciding whether he was prey or threat.
Taehyung's heart slammed against his ribs.
I'm going to die.
Desperation snapped through him like lightning. With a violent surge of strength, he twisted his body, kicking downward and forcing her wrist to slip. Her grip faltered just enough for him to break free. His throat burned, bruised, aching, but he didn't waste a single second.
She bared her teeth razor fangs, long and predatory, nothing human about them. In one swift motion, she lunged.
Taehyung dodged, barely the water slowed his movement but adrenaline accelerated his instincts. She missed his throat by inches, her fangs slicing through the water where his skin had been a heartbeat ago.
Without thinking, Taehyung tore open the small blade from his pocket. The metal glinted faintly even in the darkness. When she lunged again, he slashed.
The knife cut through her wrist.
A burst of dark, shimmering blood spiraled into the water like ink. She hissed, a sound that vibrated through the depths, cold and animalistic. Her glowing eyes narrowed into razor slits as she clutched her bleeding wrist, fury radiating off her like heat.
Taehyung's chest tightened he needed air now, now every second burned.
Above them, voices echoed faintly.
"Pull it up!"
"Something's in the net!"
"We got it!"
The trap.
The siren's ears twitched, she heard them too. She shot one last furious glare at Taehyung before retreating into the dark, vanishing like smoke dissolving underwater.
Taehyung tried to swim upward, but before he could even reach two strokes, a heavy net dropped onto him, tangling around his arms and waist. The ropes cinched tight around him, dragging him up, cutting into his skin.
From above, the men shouted victoriously, "WE CAUGHT IT! PULL! PULL!"
Taehyung didn't even have the strength to yell. His chest ached, throat bruised, lungs burning from the fight and the lack of air. His vision wavered as he surfaced, coughing, gasping, entangled like trapped prey.
As the crew dragged him onto shore, the net scraping against his raw skin, Jungkook froze.
"...Hyung?"
It wasn't the creature they caught. It was the man who had almost died fighting it. Taehyung lay there, exhausted, drenched, bruised and the siren's glowing eyes still haunted the back of his mind.
-------
Taehyung woke with a sharp inhale, the weight of sleep peeling off his body like a suffocating second skin. His vision steadied slowly, adjusting to the dim light of the unfamiliar room. For a moment he lay still, listening to the soft hum of machines somewhere behind the walls and the faint echo of waves in the distance. When he finally pushed himself upright, his body protested his muscles heavy, sore, drained.
He swung his legs off the bed and forced himself to stand. The room felt foreign, almost sterile, but the large mirror on the opposite wall pulled his attention like gravity. He walked toward it, steps uneven, and froze the moment his reflection stared back at him.
Across his neck bloomed angry, dark bruises perfectly shaped, the marks of fingers that were too long, too thin, too inhuman. His breath hitched. The memory slammed into him: the cold water swallowing him whole those glowing eyes widening as she dragged him deeper the suffocating pressure of her grip around his throat as her tail forced the currents to obey her.
The door clicked. Taehyung flinched.
Jungkook stepped inside, worry etched so deeply into his face that it aged him. "You're awake," he breathed, relief loosening his shoulders. "God, Taehyung... you have no idea how thankful I am you're alright." His eyes flickered to Taehyung's bruised neck, jaw tightening. "It could've been so much worse."
Taehyung swallowed, still staring at the marks. "We were close," he said, voice low, almost defeated. "We could have caught her. But everything got messed up." He finally turned to Jungkook, frustration simmering beneath exhaustion. "We had her, Jungkook."
"I know," Jungkook sighed. "As soon as I heard you fell into the water, I brought my men. We set a trap... almost got something. But the net missed." His tone sharpened, annoyance leaking through. "Minjun messed up-"
"Stop," Taehyung snapped, the word cutting through the room like a blade. He pressed a hand to his temple, choosing his next breath with care. "Stop blaming him. This time... you need to listen to me." His eyes were steady, dark with something Jungkook didn't recognize at first fear, curiosity, and something dangerously close to obsession.
Because Taehyung couldn't forget her.
Not the glint of her scales under the moonlit water. Not her half-human face twisted with hunger. Not the massive, translucent fins attached to her ears that fluttered like wings in the current. And not the way her thin, serpent-like arms had locked around his throat with a strength no human could fight.
"She wasn't like the stories," Taehyung whispered, almost to himself. "She was... something else. Beautiful and terrifying. A human... and not." He swallowed. "Her hands were so thin, Jungkook. But strong- like a snake coiling around its prey."
He stared at the bruises on his neck again, shivering.
"She was dangerous," he said softly. "And she's still out there."
--------
Jungkook's jaw tightened, a flash of irritation burning behind his calm facade. Every word Taehyung had spoken, every implication that Jungkook's ego, his decisions, his "mistakes," had cost them, struck a nerve he wasn't used to exposing. His pride, honed sharper than any blade, bristled at the thought of being blamed. He had led men, fought monsters, survived oceans far deadlier than any siren, and yet here he was being chastised like a boy. Taehyung's voice echoed in his mind, cold and steady, reminding him that now, Jungkook had no choice but to follow orders.
With a grunt, Jungkook turned sharply and stalked back to the ship moored at the edge of the island, its dark silhouette swaying with the restless waves. He climbed onto the deck, boots thudding against the wood, and lit a cigarette, inhaling deeply. Smoke curled upward, tangling with the night air, and his gaze fell on the rolling black water beyond. He hated the creature already, the thought of it haunting the depths, taking Taehyung under, mocking their efforts. When he caught it, he promised himself, he would kill it, no matter the cost.
He took a final drag, eyes narrowing as the orange ember glowed between his fingers, then flicked it into the ocean. The sparks hissed and vanished into the dark waves, leaving only the memory of fire against shadow. He exhaled slowly, lips pressing into a thin line, a storm of irritation and anticipation brewing quietly behind his composed exterior. The sea would pay, he thought. One way or another, it would pay.
------
Taehyung gathered the men under the dim lantern light, the island's night wind brushing against their faces as if warning them to tread carefully. The camp quieted the moment he stepped forward, Taehyung didn't need to raise his voice; authority wrapped around him like a second skin. He stood with his arms crossed, bruises still fresh on his neck, eyes fixed on the dark line where the sea kissed the shore. "We won't wait for her to approach again," he began, voice low but unwavering. "She's clever. She watches us. Last night wasn't an accident, she dragged me because she was testing us." A ripple of unease traveled through the crew.
Taehyung's gaze hardened. "So we test her back."
He laid out the plan the way a strategist lays out a war map. At dusk, they would position themselves farther from the shore, hiding between the thicker trees where the moonlight barely reached. Instead of one trap, they would build three layered nets reinforced with iron hooks, tied with ropes thick enough to restrain wild beasts. Two decoy fires would burn near the water, baiting her curiosity. And Baejin, with his soft steps and sharper instincts, would stand closest as the lure. Not too close to be taken but close enough to draw her attention. The moment she surfaced or shifted the water, the men would collapse the nets inward, dragging her onto land.
"Do not stare at the ocean for too long," Taehyung warned, expression unreadable. "She senses eyes. She senses fear. And she listens." His fingers brushed the bruise on his throat unconsciously, a reminder of how close she had been. "We catch her alive. No mistakes. No noise. No overconfidence." The last line wasn't spoken loudly, but everyone knew who it was meant for.
By the time the plan was fully laid, the air hung thick with tension and anticipation. Footsteps approached heavy, familiar and Jungkook finally returned from the shoreline, face unreadable but eyes narrowed. He didn't interrupt, didn't argue, just listened silently as Taehyung repeated the plan to him in brief, clipped sentences. Jungkook's jaw flexed once, twice... and then he nodded.
"Fine," he said, voice low, smoky, an edge still lingering beneath it. "We'll do it your way."
Taehyung held his gaze for a moment longer, seeing the restraint, the grudging respect, the bruised pride beneath Jungkook's calm. Night settled deeper around them, and with the plan set, the hunt for the siren truly began.
-------
The men worked quietly under Taehyung's watchful gaze, nets stretched and hooks fastened, lanterns flickering against the restless waves. But the sea had its own voice tonight, and one of the crew paused mid-step, a hand frozen on the rope. "Captain... look," he whispered, pointing toward the water. At first, Taehyung only saw ripples catching the moonlight, then the unmistakable shape emerged, a massive fish, floating just beneath the surface. Its scales were dulled by blood, half-eaten, torn apart by something far larger than themselves. Dark streaks of red painted the water around it, a grotesque halo shimmering in the moonlight.
Taehyung's eyes narrowed. His gut tightened not with fear, but with recognition. This was no random kill. The siren had left them a warning, a message writ in the sea's language: intrude, and you could end up like this. Yet he said nothing, only surveying the scene with a sharp, calculating gaze. His hands tightened around his sword hilt, and he muttered to himself, "So she's clever... cleverer than I expected."
He crouched for a closer look, noting the shredded flesh, the jagged tears in its scales. Every instinct screamed for caution, but Taehyung was not a man to back down. "Keep going," he ordered, voice low but steady. "The trap goes up. She wants us afraid, let's not give her that satisfaction."
Below the surface, Y/N circled silently, her tail slicing the dark water with effortless grace. She watched, curiosity flickering in her glowing blue eyes, sensing the tension above. Something was happening a plan, a trap but she couldn't yet see the full picture. And yet, the blood on the waves had made her pause. The humans were learning. She would need to be careful.
-------
The night was alive with tension, the ocean black and restless, lanterns flickering against the shore as Taehyung and his crew positioned the traps. Every man held his breath, every muscle coiled, knowing the siren was near. And then she struck.
With a flash of her shimmering tail, Y/N surged from the water like a storm incarnate, powerful arms snatching one of Taehyung's men with terrifying precision. He screamed as she dragged him beneath the waves, thrashing and struggling, and the water erupted around her, glowing eyes fixed with cold, alien intelligence. The others immediately sprang into action harpoons thrust, ropes swung, and nets flung, trying to corner her. Waves splashed violently, and the sound of metal striking water echoed through the night, yet she moved with a grace that was both beautiful and deadly.
Taehyung dove into the water himself, muscles slicing through the cold, dark sea. He lunged at her, hands gripping for her tail, but Y/N twisted, slipped, and flicked him back with a flick of her wrist. She was fast, impossible to hold, a blur of pale skin and glimmering scales. His chest heaved as he tried again, but she darted away, eyes glowing, almost mocking him.
Then came a different sound a sharp, calculated movement that cut through the chaos. Jungkook appeared, moving with precision, his own plan unfolding. While Taehyung had distracted her, Jungkook had positioned a secondary net, reinforced and weighted, with bait placed at just the right spot. With a flick of his wrist and a flickering motion of ropes, the net descended from above, dropping with perfect timing. Y/N's glowing eyes widened as she realized too late that her freedom was being constricted.
She thrashed and twisted, trying to escape, but the net held, biting into the water with iron teeth. Jungkook's men hauled, taut ropes straining under the siren's strength, while Taehyung watched from nearby, chest still heaving from exertion. Y/N's hands clawed, tail snapping, but every attempt only tightened her confinement.
Finally, with a hiss that echoed like the ocean itself warning them, she stopped thrashing, caught, restrained, the net holding firm. Jungkook stepped back onto the deck, chest rising and falling, a dark grin curling across his lips. "She's ours," he murmured, almost to himself. Pride flickered in his eyes not for killing, but for claiming, for proving that even this creature, this nightmare from the depths, could be controlled when strategy met skill.
Taehyung emerged from the water, dripping and exhausted, and for a long moment, the two men stared at the siren. Her glowing eyes met theirs, calculating and furious, and in that gaze, they both understood: this was far from over.
-------
The siren's body thrashed slightly as Jungkook yanked her out of the net, dragging her onto the cold, sandy shore. The moment she touched land, she seemed smaller, weaker her glowing eyes still flaring with fury, but her graceful, lethal power diminished. Jungkook chuckled, low and cruel, the sound carrying across the quiet night. "Pathetic," he muttered, tugging at a strand of her dark, wet hair. She hissed, a sharp, primal sound that made the hair on his neck tingle but instead of retreating, he laughed again, a shameless, arrogant sound that made the men around him smirk in approval.
He drew his knife, glinting faintly in the moonlight, and ran it along the curve of her tail, testing, teasing. "I could end you right here," he said, voice dark, low, playful but then he shook his head. His grin widened, greedy and calculating. "No... why waste her? She'll make far more money in the market, or better yet, in a circus." The men laughed, a mixture of awe and lustful amusement, while the siren struggled silently, her wrists cuffed with sharp metal that bit into her skin, unfamiliar and cruel.
Taehyung watched quietly, his gaze fixed on her, noting the mix of anger and fear flickering in her glowing blue eyes. The fierceness of her stare met Jungkook's unabashed arrogance, and the contrast was sharp Taehyung saw a creature wronged and cornered, while Jungkook saw nothing but a prize to possess.
Jungkook crouched near her, voice dripping with dark amusement as he whispered, "Stop glaring at me... such a pretty yet dangerous thing you are." His eyes roamed over her exposed, wet body, shameless and cold, reveling in the power he now held over her.
Finally, Taehyung's calm voice cut through the tension. "We should take her to the bar," he said, neutral but firm, asserting control in a situation spiraling under Jungkook's arrogance. Jungkook merely smirked, standing tall, shoulders broad, arrogance radiating like a flame, already imagining how easily the siren would bend under his will, and how much fun it would be to see her try not to.
The night was heavy with lust, fear, and unspoken danger an intoxicating mix that promised chaos the moment the siren realized she was trapped between two men, each seeing her in a completely different light.
-------
The villagers gathered outside the old storage bar, whispering in terror as they peeked through the half-open door. None of them had imagined that the monster haunting their shores would look like her woman-shaped, eerily beautiful, shimmering tail coiled beneath her like living silver, glowing blue eyes that pierced through the shadows. She sat trapped inside a reinforced water tank small, shallow, nothing compared to the freedom of the ocean, but enough to keep her alive. Barely.
Jungkook stood proudly before the tank, hands on his hips, bruises on his arms still stinging from tonight's battle. "You should be grateful," he scoffed loudly, glancing back at the villagers who flinched when her tail splashed the water. "You were ripping my men apart earlier. Being alive right now? That's a gift." His tone dripped with annoyance and entitlement.
Inside the tank, Y/N glared at him, body tensed, tail curling defensively. The humans' words were muddled to her strange sounds, unfamiliar rhythms but she understood enough. She understood mockery. Threat. Possession.
Jungkook walked closer, slow, taunting, dragging his palm across the glass. The sound made her shiver he enjoyed that. He leaned in, eyes dark, greedy amusement gleaming as he studied her.
She hissed sharply, lips peeling back to reveal sharp, luminous fangs, her warning.
His face twisted instantly. "Ungrateful little brat," Jungkook snapped, voice cold. "You need to learn how to be a good girl." His smirk returned, darker. "No worries... I'll teach you."
The way he said it made even the bravest villager step back.
Taehyung, who had been quietly observing near the door, finally stepped forward. "Enough," he said simply, voice low but carrying weight. Jungkook turned slightly, annoyed, but Taehyung held his gaze. "Leave. Go ask the elder for the reward. You'll need to negotiate the price."
Money—just like that, Jungkook's irritation shifted to greed. He exhaled sharply, shooting one last glare at the siren before walking out with cocky strides, muttering something about her not lasting long if she kept hissing at him.
Silence settled.
Taehyung turned his gaze toward the tank. She was still staring at him eyes fierce, distrustful, yet... different from how she looked at Jungkook. Still hate. Still anger. But less wild, less vicious. Almost cautious.
Her gills fluttered. Taehyung took a few steps closer. She didn't retreat not instantly.
He realized she recognized the difference between them. He also realized she was terrified and she had every reason to be.
-------
The room around them was dim, lit only by a single lantern swaying gently from a wooden beam, casting shifting gold light across the walls. The water tank sat in the corner like a cage, its glass fogged from her shaky breaths. Y/N had curled herself tightly at the farthest edge, tail wrapped defensively, arms resting over her knees as though shielding herself from the world. Her glowing eyes, however, never wavered they were fixed on Taehyung with an unwavering, predatory intensity.
Taehyung exhaled, rubbing the fatigue from his face. "Staring at me like that won't kill me," he muttered, though her relentless gaze made him feel as though she was dissecting him effortlessly. He stepped closer, boots quietly scraping against the wooden floor. Immediately her spine straightened, muscles tensing, every scale reflecting a warning as she prepared to strike if he dared invade her space. Instinct. Pure, primal instinct.
"I'm not doing anything to you," he said softly. Then, after a brief smirk, "Not yet."
Her tail flicked sharply at his words, water rippling around her. She continued to glare, pupils narrowing, eyes glowing brighter—fear, anger, and defiance tangled together in one silent expression.
Taehyung stopped directly in front of the tank, lowering himself slightly so he could meet her eyes at level. "I wonder if you understand," he murmured, tone curious rather than mocking. He lifted a hand slowly, placing a single finger against the cold glass. Her reaction was immediate she bared her fangs, emitting a low hiss that vibrated through the water like a threat.
"Do you talk?" he asked quietly. "Or do you just hiss at everything?"
Her gills flared, her lips pulling back as she showed those luminous fangs again, as if daring him to come closer, daring him to risk his throat.
Taehyung sighed, gaze tracing the lethal beauty of her, wet hair clinging to her skin, shimmering scales catching the faint lantern light, those inhuman eyes burning with both terror and fury. "You're divine," he admitted under his breath. "Divine and dangerous."
And for the first time, she blinked. Not in softness, not trust but in acknowledgment. She knew he was watching. And he knew she was waiting.
Waiting for a mistake, a weakness, an opportunity.
Because even caged, she was still a predator and he could feel it.
-------
The old village elder's hands trembled when Jungkook casually named his price, a number so high it nearly choked the air out of the room. For a moment, the old man simply stared, eyes wide, mouth parted, as if unsure whether Jungkook was joking or insane. But Jungkook didn't blink, he only leaned back, arms folded, the faintest smirk tugging at his lip. And the elder, frightened not of Jungkook but of the creature he wanted gone, finally nodded with a stiff swallow. A greedy spark lit Jungkook's eyes. Money, that was all he ever wanted. And he'd earned it.
That night, he swaggered into a dimly lit local bar, the kind where the sea-salt air clung to sweat and cheap alcohol burned like fire. His men were already there fishermen and hunters who bathed in the thrill of danger, loud and drunk, retelling stories of the "monster girl" they had dragged from the river. Jungkook didn't join them immediately; he ordered a drink and leaned against the counter, his jaw sharp in the low amber light.
The music shifted slow, heavy, sultry and that's when he saw her.
A woman with dark eyes and lips painted the color of sin, moving through the smoky haze like she owned the room. Her hips swayed lazily, deliberately, each step a silent invitation. Men watched her with hungry eyes, but she wasn't looking at any of them. Only him. Jungkook raised his glass with a cocky smile, already knowing how this would go. He didn't chase; he never had to. Women always came to him, something about the danger written in the cut of his jaw, the recklessness in his eyes, the fearless sharpness of a man who lived without consequences.
She slid closer, fingertips grazing the bar beside his hand as she leaned in, her perfume mixing with the alcohol on his breath. "Rough night?" she murmured, voice like silk dragging across skin.
Jungkook chuckled, low and smug. "You have no idea."
She smiled slow, wicked. "Then maybe you need a distraction."
He didn't resist. He didn't need to. His smirk deepened as he let her pull him toward the darker corner of the room, letting the heat of her gaze climb over him like flames licking gasoline. It was intoxicating—her touch, her confidence, the weight of the night pressing in around them.
-------
The woman's hands were already on his shirt the moment they slipped into the back room of the bar, her lips brushing along his jaw as the door clicked shut behind them. Jungkook let her push him against the wall, his laugh low and breathless, not because she excited him, but because he loved the feeling of someone wanting him. Need fed his ego like oxygen.
Her mouth traveled down his neck, slow and heated, but somewhere in the back of his mind unwanted, uninvited he saw flash of something else.
Cold eyes. Sharp fangs. The siren's furious, glowing stare from inside the tank.
For a second, he froze.
Why was she here? What was she doing near the island?
Why did she kill?
Why did she have to look at him like that, like she'd rip out his throat if she weren't trapped?
These questions had never crossed his mind during the hunt. She was a monster, a prize, nothing more. But now, in this dim room with heat licking at his skin, the memory of those eyes crawled up his spine like a ghostly touch.
He hated it. He hated her for lingering in his thoughts. He wasn't supposed to care.
The woman tugged at his collar again, whispering something against his throat, and Jungkook snapped back into himself with a smirk cutting across his lips.
Right. He didn't need to think. He didn't need answers.
He just needed pleasure.
He grabbed the woman by the waist, turning her with a force that made her gasp half surprised, half thrilled. His hands roamed over her body, shameless and greedy, as if claiming her would silence the image of the siren entirely.
But it didn't.
Even as he pressed the woman against him, even as her nails dug into his skin, his mind flickered, just once more to the way the siren had hissed at him, the sound vibrating with both rage and fear. A creature made to lure men in yet she looked at him like she wanted him dead.
A twisted, dangerous curiosity bloomed in his chest.
What was she? What made her hunt? What made her different?
He shoved the thoughts aside with a grunt, leaning into the woman as she pulled him closer, eager, breathless beneath him. His breath fanned against her ear as he muttered, low and filthy, "Whatever. She's locked up. She's nothing."
Tonight, he wasn't going to think about glowing eyes or sharp teeth.
Tonight, he only cared about himself, the way he always did and with that, he drowned the last of his thoughts in the warmth and the hunger of the woman under him.
--------
Taehyung pushed open the wooden door quietly, the dim lantern inside flickering weakly against the walls. She was still curled at the far edge of the tank, knees pulled to her chest, tail tucked beneath her, eyes glowing faintly in the dark like two shards of the ocean itself. She didn't move when he stepped in. Just watched him, unblinking, like he was the prey.
Taehyung placed the metal bucket beside the tank fresh fish, still slick but lifeless.
He held one up. Slowly. Carefully.
"Here," he murmured, lowering it into the water. She didn't even glance at it.
Instead, Y/N turned her head away, tense muscles rippling under her skin. A predator rejecting dead meat. Of course. She hunted, she fought, she didn't scavenge. Taehyung sighed under his breath. Her stubbornness or pride he couldn't tell. But something about the refusal made her seem more human and more dangerous at the same time.
He crouched beside the glass, tapping it lightly with his knuckles. "You'll starve like this."
No reaction. Just her tail flicking once, irritated.
He tried again, this time softer, calmer. "Hey... look at me."
Her head tilted back slowly, eyes meeting his. Cautious. Ready to recoil if he moved too close.
Taehyung pointed to himself. "Taehyung," he said. "Kim Taehyung."
He repeated it once more, gently, as if teaching a child a new word. Her brows pinched, unsure, but she watched him carefully.
Then he pointed his finger at her.
"What's your name?"
For the first time since she'd been dragged out of the ocean, Y/N didn't hiss. Didn't glare. Didn't bare her fangs. She just blinked. Once. Twice. Her lips parted, voice low, hoarse, unused to speech.
"...Y/N."
Taehyung's eyes widened. He almost stood up in shock.
She could talk. She understood.
She-
But his thoughts shattered when the door slammed open. Jungkook barged in, half stumbling, half swaggering, the smell of alcohol clinging to him like a second skin. His shirt was half undone, hair a mess, cheeks flushed. He grinned, wide and triumphant.
"Taehyung-ah!" he slurred. "Good news. The old man agreed. Big prize. Bigger than we asked for." He giggled to himself like a child with stolen candy.
Before Taehyung could stop him, Jungkook swaggered toward the tank, leaning dangerously close. He slapped his palm against the glass, hard. The tank rang with the sharp metallic sound.
Y/N flinched violently, tail curling as she backed into the corner, a hiss ripping from her throat, fangs flashing.
"Oh, shut up," Jungkook spat, pressing his face closer with an arrogant smirk. "Or I'll tie you up and keep you out of the water forever." Her glow brightened, fury trembling through her body, but she stayed pressed against the wall, trapped.
"You make the best prize," Jungkook chuckled, eyes roaming over her with ugly excitement. "A perfect little monster." Taehyung stepped forward quickly, jaw tight, eyes flicking between Jungkook's drunken grin and Y/N's trembling glare. Something twisted painfully in his chest fear, anger, he didn't know. But he knew one thing.
This wasn't going to end well.
-------
Jungkook stepped out of the elder's house, finally free from the suffocating "respectful" breakfast he had zero interest in. His jaw clenched polite talk wasn't his thing. Alcohol, danger, women, victories those were his kind of mornings.
He walked toward the open yard, letting the salt breeze hit his face when he heard voices low, greedy, male voices whispering by the wooden fence. He didn't mean to listen. But the moment he heard the word "siren," he stopped.
"Did you see her scales?" one fisherman rasped. "Bright as coins- thick too. If we carve them out? Gods, every piece will sell for a fortune."
Jungkook's head tilted, eyes narrowing.
Another man chuckled under his breath. "And pearls, these creatures swallow pearls to make their bodies shine. That thing probably has dozens in her belly. No wonder she attacked. Must be hiding treasures."
Jungkook blinked once, slowly.
Pearls. Shining scales. A living creature that could be dismantled and sold piece by piece.
A walking fortune.
------
Jungkook stood in the dim room, the lantern light flickering off the surface of the tank. She was curled in the corner, tail folded beneath her, hair drifting like seaweed in the water. For a moment, she looked almost peaceful, too peaceful for something that had dragged grown men to their deaths. He scoffed under his breath.
"Sleeping in that little box... pathetic thing." He approached silently, boots thudding against the wooden floor, but she didn't stir. Not even a twitch. Maybe she thought she was safe in there. Maybe she thought he wasn't bold enough to touch her again.
She really didn't know him at all. Jungkook climbed the short step and unlatched the iron lid. The hinges creaked. Still nothing.
Until his fist shot into the water and tangled into her hair.
She jerked awake with a sharp, guttural hiss instinctive, wild, panicked. Her claws scraped against the glass, tail thrashing water everywhere, but Jungkook only tightened his grip, yanking her up out of the tank with brute force. Her wet body slapped against the wood when he threw her down.
She gasped, more in shock than pain.
Her scales shimmered under the lantern light, every color sharp and bright. Her gills fluttered, struggling to adjust to the air. She pushed herself back, elbows digging into the floor, but her movements were sluggish and desperate; sirens weren't meant to survive on land.
Jungkook stalked toward her with easy, casual steps, like he wasn't approaching a dangerous predator, but something caged, breakable, owned.
"It's a waste of trying," he clicked his tongue, crouching down right in front of her. She bared her fangs at him, eyes glowing fiercely but he only smirked, more amused than threatened.
"Still glaring at me?" he muttered. "Fine. Keep fighting. Makes the hunt sweeter." His hand slid to his belt and pulled out the knife. The metal gleamed.
Y/n stiffened instantly, tail coiling as she hissed, a sound full of rage and fear tangled together.
Jungkook didn't flinch. He lifted the knife, and she struck first. Her hand slashed toward his face, claws aimed for his eyes. He caught her wrist mid-air and slammed it down to the floor.
"Wrong move," he growled.
When she swung the other arm, he grabbed that too pinning both wrists with one hand, forcing them above her head. She thrashed beneath his hold, tail scraping the ground, body twisting with everything she had...but compared to him on land, she was nothing.
"Still think you're strong?" he mocked, breath steady while hers trembled. "You're only scary in water. Out here..." His knife pressed into the scales at her waist, not piercing, testing. "...you're just merchandise."
He dragged the blade slowly across the thick scales, not enough to cut through, but enough to send a sharp jolt of pain through her. She cried out a raw, startled yelp she couldn't hold back.
"That's it," Jungkook murmured darkly. "Let's see what you're hiding."
She fought harder, wrists twisting in his grip, but he only pushed her down harder. His greed burned hotter with every second, this wasn't about killing her now. It was about what she was worth. What he could take. What she could give.
"I heard sirens hide pearls in their bodies," he said, voice deadly calm. "Imagine how many you've been keeping from us." Her eyes widened not in guilt, but in confusion. She didn't understand him. Not his words. Not his motives.
But she felt the danger. Jungkook's grin sharpened. "And I'm going to find every last one."
------
The moment Taehyung heard the violent splash and Y/N's strangled cry, he sprinted inside, breath hitching. The sight slammed into him like a punch, Jungkook towering over her, one hand gripping her jaw, the other digging into the iridescent scales near her ribs, ripping one clean off.
Y/N's scream wasn't human. It was the kind of sound that scraped bone.
Taehyung froze for half a second, heart dropping. "Jungkook- stop!" His voice cracked with urgency. "You tear any more off, she might not survive it."
Jungkook didn't look at her face, didn't look at her pain. His eyes were glued to the scale in his hand thick, heavy, shimmering with deep ocean blues and violent purples. Worth a fortune. He rolled it between his fingers, cold excitement twisting his lips.
Taehyung tried again, stepping forward. "You kill her, she's worth nothing. Alive, she's our gold mine." His voice was sharp. Calculated. The only language Jungkook listened to. Jungkook paused. A slow smirk bloomed. Greedy. Ugly.
"Right," he murmured. "Alive is... profitable."
Before Taehyung could react, Jungkook yanked two more scales quick, brutal. Y/N lurched, body curling in agony, tail spasming. Blood- dark teal, ran in thick streams down her side. Jungkook admired the scales once more, then tucked them casually into his pocket like trinkets.
"That's enough for today," he said, voice smooth and satisfied. "This alone could feed a whole damn crew."
He turned and strode out, boots echoing coldly down the corridor.
The door slammed.
Silence fell, heavy as the sea.
Taehyung exhaled shakily and slowly approached the trembling mermaid. She lay on the floor, chest heaving, tail dragging limply as she tried to crawl away. Her eyes snapped to his glittering, wild, seething with hatred. When he reached out, she swiped her claws across the back of his hand. A warning.
He didn't pull away.
"I'm not going to hurt you," he whispered.
She didn't believe him not for a heartbeat but something in his voice made her falter. Maybe desperation. Maybe guilt.
He crouched, hands steady despite everything, and gently pressed a cloth to the torn flesh below her ribs. She winced violently, nails digging into the stone floor. Her blood stained his fingers, staining the cloth, staining him.
"Just... hold on," he murmured, more to himself than her. "If those were taken deeper, you could've-" He swallowed hard.
When the bleeding slowed, he slipped an arm beneath her shoulders and another under her tail. She stiffened instantly, claws curling, ready to strike but she was too weak to fight him now. He lifted her anyway.
Her scales brushed against his chest, cold and quivering. He carried her carefully, slowly, each step echoing in the dim corridor until they reached the tank. The water shimmered under the lights, calm a stark contrast to the storm in her eyes.
Taehyung lowered her in, letting the water cradle her. She sank beneath the surface for a second, then reappeared, gripping the edge of the tank, refusing to show weakness even while bleeding. He stayed beside her, hands resting on the glass.
"I'm not him," he said quietly. "You don't have to trust me. But I won't let him do that again."
Y/N glared at him, breathing hard, ocean eyes burning with pain and fury. But she didn't swipe at him again.
-------
For the rest of the night, Taehyung couldn't sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her face, the way she flinched when Jungkook touched her, the way she bled silently into the water, the way she looked at Taehyung like trusting him was the last thing she'd ever do.
But he also saw the things he wasn't supposed to notice, the shimmer of her scales under the lantern light, the way her hair floated around her in soft, dark waves, the haunting beauty that wasn't human but wasn't monstrous either.
He couldn't get her out of his head.
By morning, he found himself standing in front of the tank again, guilt weighing on him like an anchor. Y/N was floating near the bottom, her tail curled protectively around her wounded side. The water around her was faintly tinted blue-green from dried blood.
Taehyung exhaled brokenly. "You shouldn't be here," he murmured.
She stirred, opening her eyes just enough to glare at him. Even weak, her eyes were sharp. Fierce. The kind that could kill a man without touching him.
He moved slowly, placing a wooden bowl of fish and seaweed near the tank. "I brought food," he said softly, as if talking to something fragile. "I don't know what you eat... but this is the best I could manage."
She didn't move. Didn't reach for it. Didn't trust him. Taehyung dipped a hand carefully into the water. Instantly she shot up, baring her teeth, claws slicing the surface with a threatening hiss.
He snatched his hand back, heart pounding but he didn't yell, didn't punish her.
Instead, he whispered, "It's okay. I deserved that."
Her expression flickered, confusion mixing with anger. He pushed the bowl closer and stepped back, palms open. Watching. Waiting. She didn't eat until he left the room and somehow that made his chest hurt more.
------
By afternoon, Taehyung returned to find the hideout's entrance crowded with unfamiliar faces, men from nearby village outposts, sailors, merchants, all whispering excitedly.
Jungkook stood at the center like a ringmaster, grinning proudly. "Only one gold coin to take a look," he announced loudly, holding up a heavy pouch. "Two if you want a closer view. She's real- scales, teeth, tail and everything."
Taehyung's stomach turned. "What are you doing?" he muttered, grabbing Jungkook by the arm.
Jungkook laughed. "Making money, what else? People love a freak show."
Taehyung's jaw tensed. "She's not a show."
"She's whatever earns us something," Jungkook shot back coldly. "And she's worth more alive than dead, just like you said."
Taehyung regretted every word he'd used yesterday.
Inside the building, Y/N had curled herself deep into the tank's corner. The loud voices terrified her; every shout made her tail twitch. She pressed her back to the glass, trying desperately to hide. Her fingers trembled as she gripped the stone edge, chest rising and falling too fast.
A fisherman leaned closer, face inches from the glass. "Ahh... look at that! A real one!" Another jeered, "How much for a scale? I heard they heal wounds." Y/N's eyes darted, panic spreading across her features, then her gaze caught Taehyung.
For a moment, her expression changed. Not trust. But something softer. Relief, maybe. The closest thing she allowed herself.
Taehyung stepped between her and the crowd, blocking their view. "She doesn't get seen today. That's enough."
Jungkook scoffed behind him. "Since when do you give orders?"
"Since I'm the one who keeps her alive," Taehyung snapped. "If she gets stressed, she stops eating. If she stops eating, she dies. And if she dies'" He looked pointedly at Jungkook. "Your circus ends."
The crowd grumbled. Jungkook clenched his jaw but forced a strained smile toward them. "Come back tomorrow. Show's closed for now." When everyone finally left, Taehyung locked the door hard.
Y/N was still shaking. Her hair clung to her wet cheeks; fear made her breathing uneven.
Taehyung approached slowly.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, voice thick, kneeling by the tank. "I'm trying... I really am."
She watched him, wounded eyes searching his face, as if trying to understand why someone like him would apologize when he was on the side of the cage, and she was the one trapped inside.
A moment later, she sank underwater, hiding herself completely. But Taehyung stayed beside the tank, hand pressed gently against the glass.
He didn't look away from the water. And for the first time, he felt the crushing realization. He wasn't just feeling pity.
He was falling.
-------
The morning the crew prepared to leave, Taehyung felt the weight of a thousand storms on his chest. Their ship, The Black Lotus, was being loaded in the distance men shouting, crates moving, ropes tightening. The sea wind carried the familiar scent of salt, yet everything felt wrong. Because this time, they weren't just leaving with cargo.
They were leaving with her. Taehyung gathered his crew in the main hall. "We're done here," he said firmly. "Prepare the ship. We set sail tonight."
Most men nodded. They trusted Taehyung's instincts. But Jungkook? Jungkook only smirked from where he leaned against the siren's tank, spinning a gold coin between his fingers.
"Finally," he drawled. "I was getting bored of this place."
Taehyung didn't like the look in his eyes dark, hungry, excited. Jungkook wasn't thinking about the sea. He was thinking about the siren.
He tapped on the glass with two fingers. "Wake up, treasure," he cooed mockingly.
Inside, Y/N jolted awake, her tail curling defensively. Her eyes narrowed the moment she saw him fear laced with hatred. Jungkook laughed, crouching beside the tank. "Aren't you pretty when you glare?" he said, voice low and greedy. "Don't worry, sweetheart. I'm going to take you somewhere fun."
Taehyung's fists clenched.
"Her name isn't 'treasure.'" His voice cut through the room like a blade. "It's Y/N." Jungkook froze. Slowly, very slowly he turned his head toward Taehyung.
"...What did you say?"
Taehyung met his stare, unflinching. "That's her real name. She told me."
A dark, sharp silence thickened between them. Jungkook stood up, tongue pressing against his cheek as he let out a low, humorless laugh.
"She told you?" He stepped closer. "She never said a damn word to anyone."
Taehyung didn't look away. "She spoke to me."
Jungkook's jaw flexed. "How cute," he snapped. "So what- she trusts you now? You think that makes her yours, Captain?"
Taehyung stayed quiet, but something in his eyes betrayed him and Jungkook saw it. He saw everything.
"Unbelievable," Jungkook sneered, stepping even closer until he was inches from Taehyung's face. "You... trying to own her for yourself?" Taehyung didn't answer, because the truth was already burning between them.
Y/N watched silently from the tank, tail stirring slowly through the water, sensing tension she couldn't understand but she recognized danger, anger, possessiveness.
Jungkook turned back toward her and slammed his palm against the glass so hard she flinched violently.
"She doesn't get a name," he spat. "She gets whatever I keep."
He pointed a thumb toward his own chest. "I like 'Siren.' Simple. Pretty." He grinned wickedly. "Fits what she is." Taehyung's throat tightened but he didn't argue. He couldn't, not without triggering Jungkook's temper further, not with her safety at stake.
Jungkook brushed his fingers along the glass, his voice dropping to a whisper meant for her alone.
"Siren," he repeated, tasting the word like it fed his ego. "Remember that. That's what I'll call you from now on."
Y/N's eyes flicked to Taehyung brief, confused, almost questioning before she backed deeper into the shadows of the tank. Jungkook rolled his shoulders, satisfied.
"Get her ready for transport," he ordered the crew. "We're leaving." Then he looked once more at Taehyung, voice a low threat disguised as a smile. "And don't forget, Captain... she's my prize."
He left the room laughing. Taehyung stood frozen, guilt burning through him, eyes fixed on the water. He whispered so quietly only she could hear.
"...But you're Y/N."
------
The port was restless by the time the sun reached its peak, men yelling orders, crates thudding against wood, ropes tightening as The Black Lotus prepared to sail. But all of that noise felt distant, muted compared to the tension surrounding a single glass tank.
Y/N’s tank.
Four men circled it nervously, hesitant to even breathe too loud. Inside, Y/N floated weakly, eyes half-open, movements sluggish.
Drugged.
Jungkook stood beside the tank, arms crossed, watching her like a hunter admiring a captured beast. He tapped the glass once, satisfied when she didn’t react. “Good,” he muttered. “She won’t be causing trouble now.”
Taehyung stood a few steps away, jaw clenched so tight it ached. He hated the sight. Hated how her tail barely moved. Hated how her pupils dilated, unfocused, drowning in forced numbness.
But Jungkook had insisted “If she’s awake, she’ll kill someone. And none of these idiots can handle her except me.”
It burned Taehyung, the truth of that statement. Y/N was terrified of everyone but she reacted the most when Jungkook touched her fear, rage, confusion twisting together until she was helpless.
Jungkook snapped his fingers sharply. “Move her. Slowly. If any of you idiots damage the tank, I swear I’ll feed you to the ocean myself.”
The men flinched, bowing their heads. “Yes, Captain Jungkook.” Two thick ropes were tied around the reinforced frame of the tank. Four men lifted, sweating instantly under the weight, not just of the glass and water, but of the fear that she might wake mid-transport.
Y/N’s head bobbed slightly as the tank tilted. Her fingers twitched against the water, dazed and heavy. Taehyung stepped forward without thinking. “Be careful with her,” he warned, voice low yet sharp.
Jungkook smirked over his shoulder. “Relax, Captain. She won’t even feel anything.”
Taehyung shot him a look. “That’s the problem.” Jungkook only rolled his eyes and walked ahead, leading the men toward the ship’s ramp. Every creak of wood, every sway of the tank made the workers’ hands tremble.
“Hold her steady!” Jungkook barked. “If she wakes up, she’ll rip your throats open.”
The men paled, gripping the tank tighter.
Taehyung followed silently, gaze locked on Y/N’s limp form. Her gills fluttered unevenly. Her lips were parted, as though she were trying to breathe words she no longer had strength for. Was she aware of anything at all?
He didn’t know. And the uncertainty gnawed at him.
When the men finally reached the ship’s deck, Jungkook held up a hand. “Careful… careful- NOW lower her!”
The ropes strained. The tank thudded softly onto the wooden planks.
The entire crew exhaled in relief.
Jungkook wiped his forehead, smirking. “See? Perfect. Not even a crack.” He leaned over the glass, tapping it again. “You see, Siren? Only I can handle you.”
Y/N’s eyes lifted weakly, pupils shrinking at the sight of him, her body instinctively tensing even through the haze of drugs. Jungkook grinned. “Yeah. I know you recognize me,” he whispered. “You’re weak in front of me. Always will be.”
Taehyung stepped between them before Jungkook could open the tank lid. “That’s enough,” he said sharply. “She needs water and rest. Not your taunting.”
Jungkook scoffed. “You act like she’s some princess. She’s a weapon, and a profitable one.”
Taehyung didn’t answer. Because if he opened his mouth now, he wasn’t sure what would come out rage, guilt, or the truth lodged in his throat like a blade:
She’s more than that.
Jungkook clapped Taehyung on the shoulder, mocking. “Don’t stress, Captain. Once we reach the mainland, she’ll earn us a fortune.” He walked off, shouting more orders to secure the tank for the voyage. Taehyung remained behind, staring through the glass at Y/N’s half-closed eyes. Her fingers floated upward, brushing the side of the tank as if reaching out maybe for air, maybe for freedom, maybe.
For help.
--------
The ship drifted farther from the island, swallowed by open sea and darkening skies. The deck creaked under the weight of crates, ropes, and hurried footsteps but one place remained untouched, guarded like treasure. Y/N’s tank. Jungkook sat beside it on a wooden crate, boots propped up, knife spinning between his fingers. Anyone who even looked in her direction got a sharp glare.
“Back off,” he snapped at two crewmen. “You don’t breathe near her unless I tell you to.”
They scurried away immediately.
He smirked, leaning closer to the glass. “You hear that, little monster? Only I get near you. Only I get to decide what happens to you.” Y/N’s eyes blinked slowly, dim and fatigued. She didn’t understand his words only tone, only dominance, only danger.
“That dull look on your face…” Jungkook laughed. “Cute. Makes me wonder how much people would pay to see you chained up. Maybe in a cage, maybe in a tank hell, maybe on a stage.” He tapped the glass. “You’ll make me rich. You will.”
Y/N weakly sank to the bottom of the tank, letting her tail curl around her. She didn’t have the strength to glare even breathing felt heavy. Jungkook was about to say more when footsteps clicked across the wooden floor.
A woman hips swaying, neckline too low for modesty, perfume stronger than the ocean breeze. “Captain,” she purred, leaning against the post. “You look tense. Need company?”
Jungkook raised a brow, grin spreading lazily across his lips. “Tch. Always do.”
She moved closer, brushing her fingers along his jaw. Jungkook didn’t even pretend to resist; he grabbed her waist and pulled her onto his lap. Her soft gasp echoed in the room and Jungkook shameless, arrogant, dangerous turned his head to glance at the tank.
At Y/N.
Her tired eyes flickered toward him. He smirked, lifting the woman’s chin and kissing her against the wall without breaking eye contact with the siren. His hand roamed the woman’s body, her breathy giggles spilling into the air.
“See that?” Jungkook murmured between kisses, voice low and taunting. “This is what your worth will give me. Pleasure. Power. Gold.”
Y/N’s fingers curled weakly into fists underwater. She didn’t fully understand but something in her chest tightened, a strange stabbing discomfort she couldn’t explain.
The ship swayed. Another sway. Then a violent lurch.
The woman stumbled, clutching Jungkook’s arms. “What was-?”
The ship tilted harder, bottles crashing, lanterns swinging wildly. A crewman shouted from above deck: “CAPTAIN! The weather= it's turning! We’re losing control!”
Jungkook cursed under his breath, shoving the woman aside. “Tsk. Useless storm,” he muttered, fastening his coat and running toward the exit. “Don’t touch the tank. Anyone touches her, I’ll slit your throat.”
He didn’t bother looking back as he stormed out, boots pounding on the wooden steps, leaving Y/N’s tank trembling with every violent sway of the ship. Thunder cracked overhead and for the first time, Y/N lifted her head eyes glowing faintly, sensing chaos in the water around them.
Something was coming.
-------
The storm wasn’t gentle, it slammed into the ship like a beast awakened, waves rising and crashing against the wooden hull so violently that even the most seasoned men stumbled. Jungkook burst onto the deck, rain slashing his face, hair whipping back as the wind roared. “MOVE!” he barked, grabbing the wheel before anyone else could steady it.
A crewman tried to shout over the storm, “CAPTAIN! The wind-”
“I DON’T NEED A DAMN WEATHER REPORT!” Jungkook snapped, rotating the wheel with brute force. His muscles flexed as he fought against the weight of the sea. “Tie the ropes! Lift the sails to half! I said MOVE!”
Taehyung rushed beside him, soaked to the bone but calm as ever. “Jungkook, angle it thirty degrees left- don’t fight the current—”
Jungkook cut him off. “I don’t follow anyone’s orders but mine.”
Lightning split the sky, illuminating the ship violently rocking. Taehyung frowned, jaw tight, but didn’t push further. Jungkook’s ego was a storm of its own. Still, Jungkook didn’t completely ignore him. Subtly, he shifted the wheel just enough to mimic Taehyung’s suggestion, without making it obvious.
Taehyung noticed. Didn’t comment. Because suddenly, BOOM.
Something slammed into the ship from below. A jolt so hard the deck trembled.
“What the hell was that?!” one of the men shouted.
The water churned. Foamed. Darkened.
Then, through the lightning they saw it. A massive whale, its body rising just enough above the surface to reveal a barnacled back the size of their entire ship. The men panicked immediately.
“Should we attack?!”
“Load the harpoons!”
“If it hits us again, we sink!”
Jungkook gritted his teeth. “NO ONE attacks unless I say so!”
Taehyung narrowed his eyes at the creature. “It’s not attacking. It’s… warning.” Jungkook scoffed. “A whale? Warning us? It’s probably blind!” Another slam. The ship lurched sideways, nearly throwing two men overboard. Jungkook tightened his grip on the wheel, feet digging hard into the deck as he fought to keep them steady.
“You idiots want to die?!” Jungkook yelled. “I need DISTRACTION, not warfare! You!” he pointed at three men. “Throw barrels and scraps into the water on the right side- make noise. Pull it away from us!”
The men scrambled instantly.
Taehyung called out, “Keep the left side clear! Jungkook, push the ship diagonal, we’ll slide past it!”
“I KNOW WHAT I’M DOING!” Jungkook barked, already steering exactly as Taehyung described because, he wasn’t stupid. He just didn’t take orders.
The whale swerved, confused by the noise, drifting away from the hull. For a moment, they had breathing room. Taehyung’s chest loosened. But then, His eyes widened.
Y/N.
She was still below deck drugged, weak, trapped in a tank that would shatter with the ship’s next violent roll. He turned toward the stairs instinctively. "I need to check on her" But one of his men grabbed his sleeve, shouting over the storm:
“TAEHYUNG! We need you here! The creature’s circling again!”
Taehyung froze, torn between duty and the sinking dread in his stomach. Lightning cracked the sky again.
--------
The ocean was already wild, but Jungkook’s voice cut through the thunder like a blade. “Taehyung! Kill that damn thing. I’m done with it blocking our way!”
The crew froze for half a second. Ordering someone to fight a whale in the middle of a brewing storm, only Jungkook would dare. His eyes were blazing, wet hair sticking to his forehead as he gripped the railing of the ship, refusing to show an inch of fear.
Taehyung clenched his jaw. He hated the idea, but the ship was losing control, the waves were tilting dangerously, and if the whale slammed into them again, they’d all be sinking within minutes.
“Everyone! With me!” Taehyung shouted, voice steady even as the deck swayed under his feet.
Lightning flashed behind him as he barked instructions. “Ropes to the left side! Nets ready! Three men at the bowsprit- NOW! We trap it first, then strike!”
The men scrambled, slipping, cursing, grabbing onto whatever they could to keep from being thrown into the merciless dark water. The storm was no longer just a storm; it felt alive, furious, tearing at the masts and whipping the sails into chaos.
The whale surfaced again massive, ancient-looking, as if it carried the whole weight of the ocean’s anger with it. Its tail smashed the water, sending a towering spray over the deck. Half the crew were knocked back, coughing and gasping.
“Hold the ropes!” Taehyung yelled. “Do NOT let it get beneath the ship!” But the wind howled louder, ripping rope from hands and tangling nets before they could be thrown. The deck pitched violently and someone screamed as they nearly went overboard.
Jungkook’s patience snapped.
“Useless! All of you-” He grabbed a harpoon himself, bracing one foot against the mast. “I’ll kill it if you won’t!”
“Jungkook, WAIT- !” Taehyung tried to reach him, but the ship lurched hard sideways, sending him crashing to his knees.
The whale slammed its body against the hull again a deep, thunderous impact that rattled the entire ship like bones shaking inside a chest. Wood cracked. The lanterns hanging along the deck swung wildly; one broke and sparks scattered across the planks before being snuffed by the rain.
The storm was no longer around them, it was on them. Taehyung stumbled back up, soaked, hair plastered to his face.
“Captain! The ropes are slipping! And Jungkook- he’s going to get himself killed!” Taehyung’s chest tightened. He looked over, Jungkook stood on the edge of the railing, balancing on pure stubbornness, harpoon raised high, challenging a creature ten times the size of their ship. For a heartbeat, everything slowed the raging waters, the screaming wind, the creaking wood.
Then the whale surged upward, its massive body lifting out of the dark like a shadow from the deep. Jungkook didn’t flinch.
Taehyung’s blood went cold.
“MOVE!” he roared, sprinting toward him.
-------
The moment the whale struck the hull one final time, the entire ship screamed. Wood splintered. Masts snapped like broken bones and the storm didn’t just rage above them, it swallowed them whole. A monstrous wave rose, taller than anything they had seen, and crashed directly onto the deck. The ship lurched violently, twisting, groaning, before flipping sideways.
The world turned upside down.
“Shit!” Jungkook’s curse was ripped away by the wind as he lost his grip. The entire ship rolled, dragging everything and everyone into the churning black sea. Taehyung felt the deck disappear beneath his feet. One second he was standing, the next he was weightless, falling into the freezing void.
The ocean slammed into him like a fist. Ice-cold. Merciless. Endless. Before he could even inhale, water filled his nose and mouth. His body spun, dragged down by currents as strong as chains. Above him, the ship was breaking apart, twisted pieces sinking like dying beasts. Men screamed, voices muffled underwater, bubbling upward before fading into nothing.
Jungkook sank fast, heavy boots and soaked clothes pulling him deeper and deeper. The shock hit him first, the brutal cold stabbing into his lungs. Then came the suffocating tightness of drowning. The world narrowed, darker with every second.
His chest burned. His limbs went numb. The ocean was pulling him into silence. Taehyung’s eyes fluttered open underwater. Darkness. Only darkness. The storm made everything murky, shadows of bodies sinking around him, ropes drifting like dead serpents.
His ears rang with the ghostly echoes of the ship cracking. His throat tightened.
This is it… I can’t swim this deep… I can’t get out…
He tried to move but the pressure crushed his ribs, squeezing the breath from him. His lungs begged for air. Spots of black and blue danced in his vision. He was drifting slow, helpless, sinking like a stone.
He closed his eyes. Accepting the end. Until something glowed. Soft. Blue. Almost unreal. A pulse of light flickered in the dark water ahead of him. Then another. Like the sea itself had opened its eyes. Taehyung forced his eyelids apart. The pressure blurred everything, but he saw it saw her.
Y/N.
Her hair floated around her like dark silk mixing with the waves. Her tail shimmered, glowing faintly with luminescent scales that lit up the ocean around her. Her eyes, those glowing, siren eyes were bright even in the pitch black. She moved with impossible grace through the violence of the storm-torn water, swimming toward him with growing urgency.
Taehyung couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak but his gaze locked onto hers and in that moment the fear, the cold, the panic everything stopped. He wasn’t sinking alone anymore. Y/N reached him just as his body finally went limp, her hands cupping his face gently, almost tenderly, as the ocean raged around them.
Her glow wrapped around him like a promise. She had found him.
--------
Y/N repeated the words in her mind like a curse. Never trust a human. Never trust a man. She whispered them into the currents, let them bleed into the tides, let them echo through the deepest trenches of the sea. Because there was a time she didn’t believe it, a time she thought humans were harmless creatures who stayed on land while she and her sister ruled the ocean.
That was before everything changed.
Y/N’s elder sister was everything soft and bright, a siren whose voice healed wounds, whose laughter rippled through the surface like warm sunlight. She was curious, endlessly curious, about the world above.
“Just once,” she would say, flicking fins shimmering with gentle pinks. “Just once let me see how they live.” Y/N would frown, tug her sister back down. “They’re not like us. They’re greedy. They’re unpredictable. They fear what they don’t understand.”
But her sister only giggled, spinning through the water. “Then I’ll make them understand.” Y/N didn’t stop her, not truly. Because she loved her and because she believed curiosity wasn’t a sin.
The first time Y/N saw him, her sister was perched on a rock near the shore, tail hidden beneath the waves, hair cascading like the sea itself. The fisherman stood before her, quiet, gentle in appearance, offering her a shell necklace he had carved with his own hands.
Y/N hid beneath the water, watching the scene unfold. Her sister’s smile was… radiant. Soft. Human.
Y/N’s heart twisted. She wanted to drag her sister away, wanted to scream at the man for even daring to approach a siren. But her sister was laughing, cheeks flushed, eyes glowing with affection. She’s happy, Y/N told herself. She deserves to be happy.
So she stayed hidden. She watched them talk day after day and though she couldn’t understand their words, she understood their expressions. The way he touched her sister’s cheek, the way she leaned into his palms.
Y/N never approached them. Love wasn’t her world. Love was fragile, foolish, breakable.
Then one day, her sister didn’t come home. Y/N waited on their favorite reef. Waited until the moon rose. Waited until the tides changed. Waited until her tail grew numb from the cold. But her sister never returned.
Fear slowly twisted into dread. She searched every cave. Every trench. Every corner of the coral beds. Nothing. Just silence.
Weeks later, Y/N surfaced near the old shore, hoping for any sign, any clue, even a scrap of her sister’s song. Instead she found him. The fisherman.
Laughing.
Not with her sister, but with other men from the village. Their tones were mocking, cruel, ugly, Y/N couldn’t understand the words but she didn’t need to. Their gestures told the story. The dragging motion of their arms. The slicing motion of a knife. The way they kicked aside something invisible. The way they mimicked her sister’s soft song only to laugh at it.
Her sister didn’t leave. She was taken. She was used. She was killed. For greed. For curiosity. For the simple fact that her beauty could be sold or studied or caged.
Y/N’s chest tightened so painfully she thought her heart might crack open. A desperate, hollow sound escaped her throat part sob, part growl. The fisherman noticed something in the water and glanced toward her.
He squinted. But he didn’t fear. He didn’t regret. He smirked and that smirk shattered whatever innocence Y/N had left.
------
The ocean was quiet that night. Too quiet. The wind held its breath. The waves trembled. The fishermen came with lanterns, nets, hooks, their greed burning brighter than the flames they carried. They whispered about “the other one,” “the younger one,” “the girl with scales like pearls.”
They didn’t know she was listening. They didn’t know she was waiting. The moment their boats drifted deep enough, the sea rose. Not in gentle waves. In violent hands.
Y/N’s song echoed across the dark surface a song of grief, of fury, of heartbreak. It wasn’t beautiful like her sister’s. It was sharp. Bitter. A warning. The men froze, enchanted but not with desire.
With fear.
One by one, she dragged them into the deep. They screamed, but the sea swallowed every sound. She didn’t show mercy. She didn’t offer comfort. The fisherman her sister’s murderer was the last. He thrashed. He begged. Words she didn’t understand. Lies she didn’t care to hear.
Y/N grabbed him by the throat, pulling him under until their eyes met through the water. Hers glowed with rage. His with terror. She didn’t kill him quickly. She let the ocean take him slow, the same way it took her sister Blood filled the water. The sea finally fell silent and from that night onward, Y/N made herself a promise:
Never trust a human. Never trust a man. Never love anything that walks on land.
Because love killed her sister and revenge kept her alive.
-------
But now here she was.
Y/N stared at the man who had caged her, the man who dragged her into a world she never wanted. The man who witnessed her pain, her bleeding scales, her humiliation. The man who tried in his quiet, helpless way to ease that suffering.
Her eyes glowed softly in the dark water, pupils widening, shimmering like two wounded galaxies. Taehyung floated in front of her, suspended between fear and awe, completely still as the currents swirled around them like threads of silver.
He should have swum away. He should have been terrified. But he wasn’t. He held her gaze, almost entranced.
Her tail moved first.
A slow, cautious motion.
The iridescent fins curled around his waist, gently, almost shyly, like she was testing his warmth. Taehyung felt the cold brush of her scales, then the unexpected heat beneath them.
He inhaled sharply, the last full breath he’d get. She drifted closer, her body gliding through the water with a grace he couldn’t understand. She wasn’t attacking. She wasn’t hissing. She wasn’t furious. She was, soft. Too soft.
Y/N stopped just inches from his face. Her hair danced around them like drifting ink. Her hand lifted, fingertips brushing his jawline, cold as ocean stone, delicate as starlight. Taehyung’s chest tightened at the touch, not from fear but from something deeper something forbidden.
She leaned in.
Her lips brushed his. Taehyung’s eyes fluttered shut. He kissed her back, instinctively, helplessly a surrender he didn’t even realize he made. Her lips were warm, warmer than the water, warmer than anything down here in this crushing world of blue.
For a moment, it felt like a confession. A plea. A connection neither of them understood and then, Pain.
Taehyung’s lungs spasmed. His chest clenched as if a rope wrapped around it. His heartbeat faltered. Poison. The thought slashed through his mind.
He had heard stories, whispers from old sailors 'Siren’s kiss is a death sentence. They numb the body so they can drag you down gently. A beautiful death, but a death nonetheless.'
Was that what she was doing? Was she giving him the same end she had given those men from the shore? His limbs went heavy. He tried to pull away, but his body refused to listen. He couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. Could barely even blink.
Her kiss deepened, slow and haunting, her tail tightening around him as if she was holding his soul in place.
His vision blurred. The blue of the ocean smeared into black. His fingers tingled, then went cold. His heartbeat slowed thump… thump… thump…
Was she killing him? Or saving him?
He didn’t know. He only knew that his body was shutting down, every nerve fading like dying embers. His throat burned for air, but there was none. His lungs screamed and tore inside him. The last thing he saw was her face too close, too beautiful, too tragic. Her glowing eyes staring into his as if she could see the moment his soul slipped. And then, Everything went black. Pitch black.
Silent.
For a second, Taehyung wondered if his soul had already left his body.
--------
Taehyung woke with a violent gasp, choking on air as if it burned. His lungs ached, dragging breath after breath into a body that still felt like it belonged to the ocean. His vision blurred, then slowly sharpened, revealing shapes hovering over him.
Faces. Not familiar ones. Not his men. Strangers. Rough hands held his shoulders to keep him steady, voices murmuring with concern.
“Easy, lad- easy. You’re safe now.”
“You were half-dead when we pulled you out.”
“Can you hear us?”
Taehyung blinked rapidly, his heartbeat slamming against his ribs. The taste of saltwater was still on his tongue. His chest throbbed. His lips felt numb, a phantom memory of her kiss still lingering there. “I’m… fine,” he rasped, though his voice sounded nothing like his own.
The men exchanged doubtful glances.
“You washed up near our boats,” one said, kneeling beside him. “We were fishing. Saw something glowing deep under the water, next thing we know, you float up like a corpse.” A shiver crawled up Taehyung’s spine.
Glowing.
Her eyes glowed. His pulse spiked. He pushed himself upright, ignoring the dizziness, ignoring the burning in his lungs.
“My crew,” he croaked. “My ship- my men. Did you see anyone else? Anyone at all?”
The fishermen shook their heads.
“We searched,” one said quietly. “There was nothing.”
“No wreckage.”
“No bodies.”
“No survivors.”
Another frowned, adding softly, “You’re the only one the sea returned.” The only one. Taehyung’s stomach twisted violently. No ship. No Jungkook. No crew.
Nothing. But he saw it, every second of it. The storm. The whale. The screams. The water swallowing everything and her.
His chest tightened at the memory. Y/N’s face inches from his. Her tail wrapped around him. Her lips pressing against his. His body going numb. His lungs collapsing. She kissed him, she killed him. Didn’t she? Then why was he here? Why was he alive? Taehyung stared at the waves, where the horizon split the sky and water into two endless worlds. His throat felt dry, his heartbeat
╭︵‿୨✧₊⊹☆⊹₊✧୧‿︵╮
Being a siren, Y/N had always envied humans those fragile, temporary creatures who somehow ruled the land and called themselves powerful. But when they stole her sister, when they dragged her away into a world she didn’t belong to, Y/N’s envy turned into rage. From that day onward, she promised herself she would never spare a human again.
So when the pirates captured her, she hated every single one of them. She hated Jungkook, the shameless, arrogant man who glittered with greed for money and fame and she hated Taehyung too, even though sometimes she wasn’t sure if hatred was the right word for him.
He was dangerous to her in a different way.
Taehyung was human made of flaws and hunger, ambition and guilt. He was the one who kept her locked in a cage, the one who refused to let her return to the sea. But he was also the man who looked at her with eyes that never matched his actions. Eyes that softened. Eyes that almost begged for forgiveness.
He was the one who cleaned her wounds when Jungkook hurt her. The one who stood between her and the crew when they mocked her. The one who lingered outside her door at night, as if the sound of her breathing was enough to keep him alive.
Y/N saw the good in him too much good, sometimes. But she also saw the darkness he tried to hide.
She knew he was greedy. Not like Jungkook, whose greed was crude and loud. Taehyung’s greed was quiet. A longing disguised as care. He wanted her not to harm her, not even to own her completely but to keep her near him. Close enough to admire. Close enough to claim. He wanted her like a man wants a dream he will never be worthy of.
And Y/N gods, she hated that part of herself that softened for him.
Even as she plotted revenge, even as she reminded herself what humans had done to her sister, her heart betrayed her. She grew used to the sound of his footsteps. To the way he said her name. To the rare moments when he looked at her like she wasn’t a creature, but something fragile and precious he didn’t know how to protect.
She never let him know, of course. She would rather die than let him see the confusion he caused in her.
Then came the storm.
The ship was swallowed by the dark ocean, dragged into the depths like everything else humans built with pride. She watched them scream, choke, disappear. She watched the sea take Jungkook first, greed sinking faster than gold and then she saw Taehyung.
He wasn’t fighting. He wasn’t clinging to the wreck. He just closed his eyes, as if accepting his fate. As if he had been waiting for it.
Something inside her twisted painfully.
This was the man who locked her away and also the man who had saved her more times than she ever admitted.
The land wasn’t made for her, and the sea wasn’t made for him. They were never meant to exist in the same world.
But maybe, just once he deserved a chance. A chance to be better. A chance to live differently than the men who raised him. A chance to break free from the greed that chained him, just like she had been chained.
So Y/N swam toward him, pulled him from the darkness, and pressed one last kiss to his lips soft, fleeting, filled with everything she would never say. And before he could open his eyes, before he could see her, she whispered her goodbye into the waves.
She left him alive on the shore.
Because even if he wasn’t meant for her he deserved the chance to become someone better.
Requested bynobonds__0009 (at wattpad)
SYNOPSIS: Y/n never thought dating the nation's most loved idol would feel so lonely. While Jungkook shined under the spotlight, she slowly faded in his shadow insecure, unnoticed, and convinced he'd eventually leave her for someone better. But instead of trusting him, she drifts toward comfort in the wrong place Jimin, his closest friend. What began as quiet guilt soon spirals into betrayal. When Jungkook discovers the truth, something inside him shatters.
GENRE: Toxic ✦ Dark Romance ✦ Angst ✦ Obsession
WC: 10.7k
-> Till You're Mine- JJK ft PJ pt.01 [Read part one here]
Your hands shake as you type the last words of the message, your chest tight, throat dry. You stare at the screen for a long moment, as if the act of sending it will make it real. And then, finally, you press send.
"I think we should break up. This, isn't working anymore."
You exhale, a shaky breath that feels like both relief and regret. Relief, because the decision has been made. Regret, because you know what's coming.
Almost immediately, your phone buzzes. Jungkook. But instead of replying, you block him. You can't face the arguments, the explanations, the inevitable heartbreak. You need space. You need distance. Hours pass. And then the pounding starts, at first, just a whisper of worry in your chest, then a storm. When your doorbell rings, your stomach flips. You look through the peephole.
It's him.
Jungkook. Standing there, tense, fists clenched at his sides, eyes dark with disbelief and hurt. You swallow hard.
"I... I can't just let it go without talking," he says the moment you open the door. His voice is low, controlled, but every syllable trembles with the weight of emotion.
"I- I can't take this anymore," you whisper, looking away, unable to meet his gaze. "It's... it's not working. Us. This... relationship."
His brow furrows, and he steps closer, the air around him practically vibrating with urgency. "What are you saying? Why? Tell me. Please."
You shake your head, tears threatening. "You... you're an idol, Jungkook. One day... one day you'll find someone better than me."
The words hit him like a punch. His eyes darken, and he grabs your shoulders gently but firmly, forcing you to look at him. "No. I won't. I can't find someone better than you. You-" His voice catches, raw with emotion. "You're the only one for me."
You shake your head again, tears spilling now. "No... you will. Your fans, they're shipping you with other stars. And you hang out with all these pretty girls. It says it all."
"What are you saying?" he says, voice breaking slightly now. "You could have just talked to me! If it bothered you, you could have told me. And it's all work, baby. Just work!"
"They're not you," he whispers, voice barely audible. "No matter what, I always think of you. They're just people... people I give a fake smile to, people I try to be nice to in front of the cameras. It's different with you."
He softens, stepping closer, pressing his forehead gently against yours. "Why would you think I'd ever cheat on you?"
You flinch at his nearness, but the fear doesn't leave your chest. "Please... I've seen the rumors. About you... dating someone in LA. I- I wouldn't be surprised if you cheated on me."
Shock flashes across his face. "What are you saying? That's all made up! And you... you believe that over me? Over us?"
He takes a deep breath, trying to steady himself, and his voice grows firm, pleading. "Every time I get the chance, I text you. I call you. I tell you about my day, my work, my life. And you... you doubt me?"
Your tears fall freely now, hot and heavy, and your chest aches. You look down, unable to meet his gaze, feeling the weight of your insecurities crushing you from the inside.
He wraps his arms around you then, not letting go, not letting you push him away. "Baby... don't shut me out. Please. Talk to me. Don't leave me like this." and in that moment, as his warmth surrounds you and his voice trembles with raw emotion.
You pull back from his embrace, heart pounding so hard it feels like it might burst from your chest. Tears streak your face, but your voice is steady, trembling with the weight of your decision.
"I... I can't be with you anymore, Jungkook," you whisper. "It's... it's killing me. I'm... I'm done." His eyes widen, a flash of disbelief crossing his face before it hardens into something darker possessive, intense. His jaw tightens as he steps closer, lowering his voice so only you can hear.
"What... what do you mean you're done? Why? Why didn't you tell me anything? Why did you just... ghost me? For weeks, Y/n... I couldn't sleep, I couldn't eat properly. I-"
You flinch, cutting him off, shaking your head. "I can't. I've tried. I've tried to make this work, but I... I've fallen out of love. I... I'm done, Jungkook."
The look in his eyes shifts, a storm brewing behind them. There's hurt, yes, but underneath it, something more dangerous, more obsessive. His hands curl into fists at his sides. "No," he says, voice low but fierce, almost a growl. "You will not leave me. You are my girlfriend, Y/n. You will be mine. No matter what."
You step back, chest heaving. "No, Jungkook. No. I... I can't. I've tried, but I... I'm done. I... I don't love you anymore." His expression twists, a mix of shock, anger, and something terrifyingly possessive. He takes another step toward you, lowering his voice until it's almost a whisper, but every word feels like it's pressing against your chest.
"Talk to me. Tell me why. Tell me what I did wrong. Tell me why you're pushing me away," he demands, eyes blazing, yet you see the hurt too, raw and unfiltered.
You shake your head violently, tears streaming down, voice choked. "I... I can't. I just... can't."
The silence stretches between you, thick and suffocating. His breathing grows heavy, controlled, but the storm behind his eyes refuses to calm. You realize, in a chilling moment, that this isn't just anger it's obsession, a love twisted by intensity, by need.
Finally, he takes a step back, jaw tight, eyes still fixed on you with a piercing intensity that makes your chest tighten. His hands loosen, but the tension in his body is palpable.
"I... I'll give you time," he says, voice low and strained. "But... you need to think. You need to tell me the truth, eventually. You'll talk to me. You will, Y/n. Don't forget that." He turns sharply, coat brushing past you as he heads to the door. You watch him go, chest heaving, mind spinning, heart breaking but somewhere beneath it all, fear creeps in.
Because even as he leaves, the intensity of his gaze lingers in your mind, a quiet, simmering promise. he will not let this go.
You slump to the floor, hands covering your face, tears falling freely. The weight of what you've done, of what's coming, presses down on you. The apartment feels colder, emptier, yet somehow heavier as if Jungkook's presence hasn't really left at all.
------
You barely notice how you even got there, Jimin's apartment feels like a blur around you. Your body sinks onto his couch, trembling, chest tight, eyes stinging with tears you can no longer hold back. Everything you've been holding inside the fear, the guilt, the loneliness, the ache of being torn between Jungkook and Jimin erodes all at once.
You bury your face in your hands, sobs shaking your shoulders. "I... I can't... I can't take it anymore," you whisper through broken breaths.
Jimin is immediately at your side, his hands gentle as he pulls your trembling frame against him. "Hey... hey, it's okay. Shhh, I'm here. It's okay," he murmurs, his voice soft and grounding, wrapping around you like a lifeline.
He tilts your chin up slightly and brushes your tears with the back of his hand. "Look at me, Y/n. You're safe. I'm here," he whispers again, and you can feel the warmth of him seep into your bones, coaxing some of the pain from your chest.
Unable to hold it back any longer, you blurt the words that have been trapped in your heart, raw and desperate: "Jimin... I- I love you."
The room feels like it stills for a heartbeat. His eyes widen, a flicker of surprise crossing his features. For a moment, you think he won't respond, but then his lips press softly against your tears, his touch reverent, as if each one is sacred.
"I... I love you," you repeat, voice trembling, louder this time. "I really do. I want you."
Jimin pulls back slightly, a hand resting gently on your cheek, thumb brushing softly over your skin. His expression is tender but cautious, a protective warmth in his eyes. "Y/n... you need to rest. You're not in the right mind right now. I don't want you to say something you might regret later," he says gently, his voice firm with concern.
"No... no, Jimin. I mean it. I love you. I want you," you insist, your voice breaking, desperation dripping from every word.
He pauses, swallowing, his own heart betraying him as he gazes at you. Finally, he smiles softly, the kind of smile that reaches his eyes, full of warmth and relief. "I'm glad to hear that, Y/n... I love you too," he murmurs, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "But... you need to rest. You're exhausted. Let's take it slow. I want this to be right, for both of us."
Your lips tremble as you try to close the distance, leaning toward him, but he stops you gently, holding you close without letting go. His embrace is steady, grounding, his heartbeat against yours calming the storm inside you.
"I'll be here," he whispers again, pressing another soft kiss to your temple. "Always. But rest now, love. Sleep."
Exhaustion crashes over you like a wave. You let your head rest against his chest, his arms wrapping around you like a shield from the chaos of your heart. The tears continue to fall, but in his warmth, in his steady heartbeat and tender voice, you finally feel safe. Finally, at peace.
------
The office feels lighter somehow, almost buoyant. You walk into your cabin, laptop in hand, and notice the small, knowing smiles from your colleagues. It doesn't take long for the whispers to start soft at first, then bolder, fueled by curiosity and the obvious closeness between you and Jimin over the past few weeks.
"You two... finally?" Min Yuna teases, leaning casually against your desk.
You flush, a mix of embarrassment and happiness, but the warmth that spreads through you is undeniable. For the first time in what feels like forever, you feel free. Free to love, free to live your life without hiding, without excuses. Jimin had become your safe place, your escape from the suffocating weight of guilt and fear that Jungkook's presence had imposed.
You sit at your desk, letting your thoughts drift to the weeks that have passed. You haven't seen Jungkook. Weeks. He had said he would give you time, but that promise had been both a relief and a lingering source of anxiety. Deep down, you're scared, scared that he might appear at your apartment, unannounced, his eyes burning with the obsession you'd glimpsed before.
So, you didn't stay at your apartment unless you had to. Most nights, you were with Jimin, leaning against him on his couch, letting his warmth calm the storm in your chest. Or at Minji's, laughing and catching up, feeling normal again for a brief moment, pretending that the chaos of your love life didn't exist.
You convince yourself that you won't meet Jungkook anywhere else. He wouldn't he's an idol, a world apart from your small, quiet existence, too precious, too guarded, too tied to his life to show up in your world unexpectedly. You tell yourself this over and over, repeating it like a mantra, as if saying it aloud might keep the shadow of his presence at bay.
And yet in the quiet moments, when Jimin's hand brushes against yours, when you feel the steady beat of his heart as you lean into him, a small part of you can't help but wonder.
What if he does come?
Your chest tightens, but you push it away. You have Jimin now. You have your life. You're allowed this happiness, finally, even if it comes with a flicker of fear you can't fully erase.
For now, that is enough.
------
The moment Jungkook steps into the office, your heart skips. You hadn't expected this. Not here. Not now. The memory of his last visit, back when you were designing his stage outfits, coordinating every detail of his public image comes rushing back, sharp and bitter. You wish, for a fleeting second, that you had never met him at all.
He walks past your colleagues, his presence magnetic, every step confident, every movement flawless. And then he looks at you.
Your breath catches. His eyes cold, calculating, yet searching lock onto yours. You feel exposed under that gaze, a jolt of unease running through your chest. There's something in him, a mixture of curiosity and something more dangerous, that makes your stomach twist.
As he poses for the cameras, modeling the designs you and your team poured hours into, you can't help but notice how he examines the fabric, the cuts, the fit. When he finally smiles and praises your work, a warm flush spreads across your cheeks. "Y/n, your talent... it's incredible," he says, voice smooth, almost teasing, almost intimate.
Your heart flutters, but you remind yourself to stay composed. You've moved on. You have Jimin now. This is just work.
Then, Min Yuna pipes up, her tone playful but sharp. "Was he... trying to flirt with you? I mean, come on, he should know you have a boyfriend."
The words hang in the air, teasing, poking, a tiny dagger in your chest. Jungkook turns toward you, a slow, teasing smile curling at the corner of his lips. "A boyfriend, huh? And you didn't tell me?" His tone is light, almost mischievous, but the intensity in his eyes makes your stomach churn.
Before you can respond, Yuna blurts it out: "It's Mr. Park!"
Your stomach drops. Jungkook freezes for a heartbeat, eyebrows shooting up, and there's a flicker of hurt? Betrayal? Something deeper, darker, that makes your heart thud painfully. Then, the office door opens, and Jimin steps in, casual yet commanding. Instantly, all eyes gravitate toward him, cooing, whispering, admiring. Your colleagues light up.
"Look... there comes Y/n's boyfriend," someone murmurs, and you feel your face warm, but there's a soft swell of pride in your chest.
Jimin strides over, eyes locking with yours, and without a second thought, he pulls you into a gentle hug, pressing a reassuring kiss to your temple. "You guys should stop this workplace chaos," he whispers softly, voice full of warmth, almost possessive in the way it's just for you.
You pull back slightly and glance toward Jungkook.
The expression on his face stops you cold. Hurt. Betrayal. And something else something darker, sharper, almost like a storm just beneath the surface. His gaze lingers on you longer than necessary, a warning hidden behind those icy eyes.
------
You're barely settled at your desk when you feel a sudden, almost magnetic pull. Before you can process it, Jungkook's hand is on your arm, pulling you sharply toward a secluded corner of the office. Your heart leaps, startled, your breath catching in your throat.
"What... what is this?" he growls under his breath, voice low but dangerous, eyes dark and piercing. "Why... why were they calling Jimin your boyfriend?"
The sharpness in his tone sends shivers down your spine. You step back instinctively, but his presence looms too close, too overwhelming. "Kook... it's... that's just my colleagues... it's work-"
He cuts you off with a cold stare. "I understand," he says, voice low and tense, almost shaking with restrained anger. "I gave you time. I told myself you needed space. But this... this?" He takes a step closer, his chest practically pressing against yours. "You... being with another man? In a relationship? I didn't expect this."
You feel your pulse quicken, your stomach twisting. "Jungkook... I've told you already. I don't love you anymore. I... I'm in love with Jimin. I don't want to talk about us... about our relationship anymore. This is my workplace, and you... you need to behave," you say, trying to keep your voice steady, but it trembles.
His expression hardens. Something snaps behind those dark eyes. His hand lashes out, gripping your shoulder so tightly your breath hitches, the pressure leaving a painful bruise. "Cheating on me... aren't you?" he says, voice low, dangerous.
"I... I just... I fell out of love-" you start, but he doesn't let you finish.
Before you can say another word, he shoves you hard against the wall. Pain explodes in your side, your head striking the corner slightly. A groan escapes your lips as stars flash behind your eyes.
"Don't," he hisses, leaning close, his voice dangerously quiet. "You've been cheating on me, and now you try to blame me? You were so insecure, Y/n... so scared... you could have talked to me!" His words cut deeper than the shove, sharper than the pain in your shoulder.
You gulp, unable to meet his eyes, unable to find words. The weight of his intensity presses down on you, suffocating, terrifying. You remain silent, trembling.
Finally, with a coldness that chills you to the bone, he releases your shoulder. His hand drops, but the bruise remains, burning. He straightens, stepping back, eyes dark and stormy, voice low and menacing.
"I'll make sure... you come back to me," he says, each word deliberate, like a promise and a threat at once. "You've played enough games, Y/n. Now... it's my time." With that, he strides away, leaving you against the wall, chest heaving, body trembling, the echo of his words hanging in the air like a storm that refuses to pass.
-------
You're at your desk when Eunji and Yuna suddenly gasp. Loud. Too loud. Loud enough that half the office looks their way. You blink at them, confused, until Eunji practically jogs toward you with her phone held like it's radioactive.
"Y/n... babe... you need to see this."
You frown. "What?"
She doesn't answer. She just hands you the phone and your heart drops. Hard.
There, glowing on the screen, is Jungkook's latest Instagram post. A picture of you. Well, half of you.
It's an old photo, taken months ago. Jungkook's face is clear, perfect, smiling softly the way he rarely smiles outside of private moments. Your face, though hidden, tucked into his neck. Only the curve of your cheek, your hair, and your hand touching his jaw are visible. Your ring, that ring shines clearly on your finger.
The caption freezes your blood.
"Some things stay mine. No matter how long it's been." 🖤
The comments section is chaos.
"WHO IS SHE???"
"Is he dating???"
"That hand looks familiar???"
"I HAVE SEEN THAT RING BEFORE- WAIT-"
"JEON WHAT ARE YOU COOKING 😭😭"
"This is so cryptic HELP"
Your stomach flips. You lock the screen instantly, pulse racing.
"Wait- Y/n." Yuna squints at the screen, then at you. "You had the same ring, didn't you? I swear I've seen you wearing that. I even told you how good it looked on you." Your breath stutters. Before you can respond, Eunji waves a hand casually. "There are tons of rings with that design. It's probably nothing."
"Yeah..." you murmur, forcing a thin smile, "there are a lot of similar ones." But your voice betrays you. You hear it shaky, strained, too quick.
Yuna scrolls up again. "Still... this caption though." She reads it softly, eyebrows raised.
'Some things stay mine. No matter how long it's been.'
"Oh my god- this is totally about some argument with his girlfriend." Eunji giggles, leaning closer. "He sounds lowkey possessive. Like the jealous, dramatic type." They laugh together, whispering theories about idols and secret relationships, completely unaware of the way your pulse is pounding in your throat.
You just sit there silent, rigid your stomach twisting with a mix of anger and dread. Why would he post that? Why now? Why that picture? Why that caption? You're furious. You want to scream. He promised to give you time. He promised to think. He promised to talk later.
Instead, he dragged the past back into the light and dressed it in a cryptic threat.
Yuna sighs dreamily. "I always thought he was single, honestly."
Eunji snorts. "Please. Look at him. There's no way a man that hot stays single. Someone had to be there." They keep talking, whispering, laughing, theorizing but you can't hear them anymore.
Your chest feels tight because you know the truth. You know exactly who that "someone" was. You know exactly who that caption was meant for and worst of all you know Jungkook did this because of you. Because you tried to leave. Because you tried to move on and you chose someone else.
A quiet, invisible stake driven into your life, claiming you without saying your name.
-------
Your hands are trembling when you step out of the office, heart pounding so violently it feels like it might bruise your ribs from the inside. You don't even think, you just open your call log and tap his name. The moment you hit call, it doesn't even ring. He picks up instantly.
"Why did you post that?" you demand, voice sharp, breath shaking with anger. There's a split second of silence. Then his voice calm, too calm; the kind of calm that feels like a storm waiting to break.
"That's what you wanted, right?" he says quietly. "Me showing you off to the world." Your jaw clenches until it aches.
"Jungkook... you said you'd give me time. You said you'd back off. And this is what you do?" He scoffs a short, humorless breath.
"I said I'd give you time," he replies. "But I never- and I mean never- said I'd sit quietly while you run around with another man behind my back."
"Don't twist this-" you try, but he cuts in.
"Tell me, Y/n. How do you go from wanting me, needing me, loving me... to suddenly claiming you fell out of love?" His tone cracks, not gentle but furious, wounded, desperate. "And then you go to him? Him?"
You shut your eyes, trying to breathe through the panic clawing up your throat.
"I told you," you whisper, "I fell out of love... and I love Jimin now. Jungkook, please- delete that post. You're dragging unnecessary attention. People are already talking-"
"NO." His voice explodes through the speaker so violently you flinch, jerking the phone away from your ear. People passing in the hall glance at you, startled. You bring the phone back hesitantly, and his voice pours into your ear like molten fury.
"You don't love him," he says, tone low and trembling with anger. "YOU LOVE ME. NOT HIM." You swallow hard, throat burning.
"You were always mine," he continues, voice dropping to a terrifying, possessive whisper. "He didn't win you. He took you. He stole what was mine. And he thinks I'll just let that go?"
"Jungkook- stop-"
"You're still mine, Y/n." The certainty in his voice chills you. "You'll always be mine." Your chest tightens painfully.
"We already broke up," you say, forcing the words out. "We're not together anymore." Silence. But you can feel him breathing harsh, uneven, furious.
"You broke up," he says, voice turning ice-cold. "I didn't agree to any of it." Your breath catches. Before you can say anything else, before you can explain or plead or fight back, the line goes dead. He hung up.
------
Your apartment was quiet, too quiet. The kind of silence that made your own heartbeat sound loud. You'd been spiraling for weeks, avoiding Jungkook's calls, dodging his texts, every missed notification tightening a knot in your chest. You didn't know what you were doing or why everything suddenly felt too heavy to face. You turned away from the sink, wiping your damp hands on your shorts, and that's when you felt it.
A shift in the air. A presence behind you. You froze. Slowly, painfully slowly you turned your head and your breath caught.
A tall, dark figure stood just inside your living room, his broad shoulders swallowed by the dim light, his eyes fixed on you with a mix of relief and something dangerously close to obsession.
"Jung-Jungkook..." Your voice came out barely audible.
He stepped out of the shadows, jaw sharp, hair messy from travel, chest rising and falling like he'd sprinted all the way to you. "Love," he breathed, "you need to be aware of your surroundings. Anyone could break into your house like this." The way he said it made your stomach twist. Warm. Concerned. But there was an edge underneath. You took a step back. He took a step forward.
"What are you doing here?" you managed, your throat tight.
His gaze softened, only for a second. "I'm here for you," he said, reaching up to gently cup your face with his palm. "I came back for you."
Your heart lurched. Your mind screamed. "Stop," you muttered, grabbing his wrist and pushing his hand away. "No. You shouldn't be here. Jungkook... please leave. And stop bothering me. It's over. We broke up."
For a moment, he didn't move. Didn't breathe. Just stared at you like the words were knives you'd shoved directly into his chest. Then suddenly, his hand shot forward, gripping your shoulder, yanking you closer. Your breath hitched as you collided with his chest.
"It's never over, Y/n." His voice was low. Fractured. Dangerous. "You don't get to disappear on me and pretend I suddenly mean nothing." His eyes burned into yours, raw and desperate.
"You are mine." He leaned in slowly, deliberately his forehead nearly touching yours, his lips inches from yours, the ghost of his breath trembling against your skin. Your pulse spiked. Your body froze. But your mind screamed:
No.
You shoved him back, harder this time. "I'm not yours!" you snapped, your voice shaking more than you wanted. "I love Jimin. You can't- you shouldn't be doing any of this." The moment the name Jimin left your mouth, something in Jungkook's expression shattered.
He looked away for a second jaw clenching, chest rising sharply as if swallowing a pain that clawed its way through him. When he looked back, his eyes were darker. Hurt. Betrayed. Angry.
"Did you say the same thing to him," he whispered, stepping closer again, "when he kissed you... while you were still with me?" Your breath left you. His eyes searched your face for an answer, an answer he already knew but desperately didn't want to believe.
"Tell me, Y/n." His voice trembled. Just barely. "Have you never thought of me? Not even once? Not even when you were with him?" Silence.
You could hear the sound of your own heartbeat pounding in your ears. Jungkook stared at you like he was watching the person he loved slip through his fingers and he didn't know if he should hold on tighter or let you go and break in the process.
------
You didn't know what to feel anymore. Even hours later, your mind was still a mess, tangled between past and present, guilt and relief, memories and exhaustion. A part of you still shook from Jungkook's breakdown in your apartment, while another part reminded you again and again why you walked away in the first place. He wasn't good for you, not for the insecure, anxious version of yourself that had slowly grown under the weight of his love. What started passionate had turned suffocating. Everything had become too much his jealousy, your silence, the arguments that never resolved but only left you more drained. The relationship was slipping out of your hands long before you finally ended it.
With Jimin, things were different. He didn't make your heart race in panic or hold your breath with fear of messing up. With Jimin, everything felt calm simple, steady, warm. Jimin loved out loud. He didn't hide affection behind closed doors or care about how the world would look at him. He showed his feelings openly, proudly, as if there was nothing wrong in loving someone without hesitation. Jungkook never did that. With him, love was private, hidden, something too precious to be shared. At first, you found it romantic. But slowly... it made you feel invisible, like a secret tucked away only when convenient.
Whatever happened today, you told yourself it was for the best. Jungkook deserved someone on his level, someone confident, someone who could handle him, someone who matched him without crumbling. And you deserved someone who didn't make love feel like a battlefield.
Later that evening, you found yourself curled up on Jimin's couch, the warm glow of his living room lights soft against the quiet night. A movie played on the TV, but you weren't watching. Your eyes were fixed somewhere far away, thoughts drifting and sinking deeper into places you didn't want to go. Jimin noticed. He always did.
"You're quiet," he said gently from beside you, eyes soft and searching. "Are you okay?"
You forced a small smile, hoping it didn't look as shaky as it felt. "Just tired. It's nothing."
But the lie sat on your tongue like a weight. You had hidden too much from him your doubts, the storm you had just come from, the fact that part of you was terrified he'd leave if he ever found out how messy your heart really was. That maybe he'd look at you differently. That maybe he'd realize you were broken and not worth the effort.
Your fingers tightened around his sleeve without thinking, and before you could stop yourself, the words slipped out, quiet and afraid:
"Jimin... you love me, right? You won't leave me... no matter what?"
For a moment, he just looked at you, surprise flickering in his eyes, then something warm, gentle, grounding. He took your hand, not too tight, not too loose, just enough to let you know he was there.
"Y/n," he said softly, "we're just at the beginning. We don't have to rush or promise forever in one night." His thumb brushed the back of your hand, calm and reassuring. "Let's take everything slow. Step by step. Together. I'm not going anywhere."
The knot in your chest loosened, just enough for you to breathe. You leaned into him, resting your head against his shoulder as the movie continued playing unnoticed. You were grateful, so grateful to have him here right now, to have someone who didn't pressure you, someone who made things feel safe.
But somewhere deep inside, the guilt remained. A quiet voice whispering that maybe, without meaning to, you were using him as an escape from your past, from your fear, from the pain you didn't want to face. You closed your eyes, breathing in the quiet comfort of his presence, hoping that someday you would deserve him the way he deserved to be loved.
For now, at least, you weren't alone. And that was enough.
-------
Jungkook had been blowing up your phone since morning calls, texts, voice notes one after another. Ever since he posted that picture, the internet had gone insane, floating with rumors of his "secret girlfriend." People were already zooming in on rings, analyzing fingers, speculating in comment sections like detectives with too much free time.
But you didn't reply. You had already left that world behind. You didn't want him in your life anymore, not the rumors, not the chaos, not the spotlight. His life as an idol and yours were planets apart, and trying to force them together was what shattered everything in the first place.
You thought he'd eventually get tired and stop. You were wrong.
By evening, the doorbell rang sharp, fast, persistent. Before you could even process, you opened the door and froze.
Jungkook stood there in a fully black designer outfit, hair styled, light makeup still intact from whatever shoot he had just come from. He wasn't even wearing a mask nothing to hide. He looked like an idol who had walked off stage and straight into your building lobby without a single thought.
And his voice, loud. Angry. Emotional. "Why aren't you answering me?!" he practically barked, loud enough that you immediately panicked.
This wasn't how he usually did things. Whenever he came to see you, he'd wear a hat, a hoodie, a mask anything to avoid attention.
But today? He stood there shouting in full view, looking like a scene from a tabloid scandal waiting to happen. You could already imagine neighbors cracking their doors open, people in other apartments slowing down, listening, they might whisper around saying.
'Celebrity boyfriend screaming outside his girlfriend's apartment.'
You didn't think twice. You grabbed his wrist and yanked him inside before anyone could film or gossip further. The moment the door clicked shut, Jungkook smirked a satisfied, knowing smirk. Like this was exactly what he wanted. Like dragging him inside meant you still cared.
You let go of him and stepped back, crossing your arms, pulse racing.
"Why are you here?" you demanded. "You shouldn't be here. I told you to stop showing up like this." He just stared at you, eyes dark and intense not angry yet, just unwavering.
"I missed you," he said simply, like it was the most natural thing in the world. "I came to see my girlfriend." You felt your stomach twist.
"We are not together," you snapped. "I told you, we broke up. Stop calling me that." His jaw tightened, but when he spoke again, his voice wasn't angry. No yelling. Just low, calm, and painful.
"You broke up," he corrected quietly. "I didn't agree."
You exhaled in frustration, running a hand through your hair. "Jungkook, you need to stop. You shouldn't be here. You're causing trouble for both of us, people already think something is going on because of that stupid post. I don't want that attention anymore."
He watched you silently, then spoke again "You're ignoring me. Pretending like everything we had just... never existed." A small, humorless laugh escaped him. "Do you know how insane that feels?"
You tried to stay firm. "You should go home." His eyes flickered down hurt but masked fast.
"You keep pushing me away like I'm nothing," he murmured. "All I did was come because I missed you."
"Jungkook-" you tried again. But he stepped closer, voice steady and controlled despite the storm behind it.
"I'm not here to fight. I'm not here to yell. I just needed to see you. To remind you that I'm still here." You swallowed. This was the version of him that was hardest to deal with the calm, collected, determined Jungkook. The one who didn't scream or break down, but quietly refused to let go.
"I don't want you in my life anymore," you whispered. "Please understand that." For a second, you thought he'd snap again. But he didn't. Instead, he just looked at you with those devastatingly soft eyes hurt, confused, stubborn, in love, all at once.
"You may want to erase me," he said softly, "but I can't erase you. Not like this."
You watched him approach, his movements slow and deliberate, carrying the weight of the last few months. His eyes, usually bright, were shadowed with a weariness that you knew you had caused. He didn't want to release you, yet he understood you were already slipping away.
He stopped directly in front of you, sighing a sound that felt less like a breath and more like a collapse. "Fine," he said, his voice flat. "I'll let go of you. I can't fight it anymore."
The conviction in his words was the final nail. Tears, hot and heavy with guilt, spilled down your cheeks. He deserved a clean slate, a partner who didn't let jealousy and insecurity poison everything beautiful. He reached out, his thumb catching a falling tear, the ghost of a smile touching his lips. It was a devastatingly familiar gesture, and your body involuntarily softened under his touch.
He leaned in, his gaze burning into yours. "At least... I want this to end well."
You didn't understand. How could something so broken end well?
"I want to end it on good terms," he whispered, and the double meaning hung heavy in the air. His lips brushed the corner of your mouth, hesitant and seeking. You flinched internally, the familiar flood of feeling alarming, yet you couldn't pull away. He still commanded this involuntary response from you; your body remembered his touch even if your mind insisted on goodbye.
"Let me have you for the last time, baby," he murmured against your skin, a desperate plea rather than a demand. The urgency in his voice matched the deep, raw ache in your chest. You closed your eyes, conceding to this final, desperate, and devastating request for a memory unmarred by bitterness. This was the final surrender.
And in that last moment, Jungkook kissed you like he was memorizing everything he was about to lose your breath, your warmth, your body trembling beneath his. He was desperate but gentle, passionate but breaking, and every touch felt like a final goodbye wrapped in selfish longing and you let him.
-------
You sat there on the edge of the bed, staring blankly at the empty space Jungkook had occupied just hours ago. The sheets were cold, his warmth had vanished, just like the version of him who used to stay until morning. The silence was suffocating, pressing into your ribs until breathing felt like a chore. Your mind was a mess, tangled with memories, fear, guilt, and the nauseating realization of what you had done. You pulled your knees to your chest, fingers digging into your hair as your heartbeat drummed painfully beneath your skin. You ruined everything Jimin’s trust, your own dignity, the fragile peace you had been trying to build after breaking away from Jungkook.
Your phone buzzed on the nightstand, screen lighting up brightly in the dim room. You didn’t want to check. You already knew who it was. But your trembling hand still reached for it, and when you unlocked the screen, Jimin’s messages filled the display.
Good morning, pretty. Did you sleep well?
Get ready, I’ll come pick you up after two hours.
Let’s go to your favorite café for lunch. You said last week you were craving their pasta.
He added a heart and a small smiley, the simple warmth of it twisting painfully in your chest. Jimin was planning a comfortable, happy afternoon together completely unaware of the hurricane you had just thrown both of you into.
Your vision blurred. Tears hit the phone screen before you even realized you were crying. You curled forward, pressing your forehead to your knees as a sob escaped quiet, desperate, and shaking. Jimin didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve someone who was falling apart, who was still tied to her past by scars she didn’t know how to heal, someone who had betrayed him before their relationship even had time to grow.
You wiped your face with trembling hands, but it didn’t help. The guilt was too loud, too heavy, clawing at your chest until it became hard to stay upright. Jimin’s kindness made it worse because he was the one place you should have felt safe, and yet here you were, carrying a lie big enough to destroy him.
The phone buzzed again.
Should I pick you up or do you want me to meet you there? :)
Your heart cracked.
You had never felt smaller.
You stared at the message as the tears fell again, and for the first time, you wondered if you even deserved to stand next to someone like him or if you were just using him to escape a pain you didn’t know how to face.
---
You spent the morning curled under the blankets, body sore and mind heavy. You couldn’t step into the office today, not like this. You texted Jimin with shaky fingers, simply saying you were exhausted and needed a rest day. He replied instantly with concern and softness, telling you to sleep well and eat properly, that he’d bring you something later if you needed it. His kindness only made the sting of guilt sharper.
For a moment, you let yourself believe that maybe today would be quiet. Maybe Jungkook had finally let go. But peace never lasted long with him.
Your phone buzzed, nonstop. Notifications flashed across your screen: social media alerts, messages from colleagues, random unknown numbers flooding your inbox. Your stomach twisted as you opened one of the messages, and there it was.
A photo. Paparazzi. Jungkook standing outside your apartment building last night, wearing that immaculate black outfit, shouting while you tried pushing him inside. From afar, it looked like a couple’s heated fight. Headlines were already erupting.
"Celebrities fighting with secret girlfriend."
"Who is Jungkook’s mystery woman?"
"Hidden romance exposed?"
Your hands went cold. Scrolling further only made it worse. Another picture. Grainy—taken through your apartment window. You felt your heart stop.
It was you and Jungkook kissing.
Your face wasn’t clearly visible, but anyone who had ever been in your apartment could recognize the view the curtains, the furniture, the clothes you had worn. One flash and your entire world was beginning to unravel. Before you could breathe, another message appeared on your screen.
From Jungkook.
A photo. His hand gripping your thigh from last night intimate, unmistakable. Your blurred face barely visible in the corner.
Then his text followed: “You were so wild, babe. I wonder how crazy my fans would go if I post this on my story?”
Your blood turned ice. So this was his plan. He showed up loudly. Made a scene. Dragged paparazzi right to your building. Made you panic enough to pull him inside and then dragged you down with him in the only way he knew how, control disguised as love. Your fingers flew across the screen, rage blinding you.
"YOU WOULDN’T DARE."
The reply came instantly, as if he’d been waiting for your panic. “Why shouldn’t I? You were mine last night.”
Your jaw clenched, chest burning: "WHY ARE OUR PICTURES EVERYWHERE?!" You typed again.
The three dots appeared. Paused. Then “Just showing off what’s mine.”
The wall felt like it was tipping toward you as the truth slammed into your chest. He didn’t let you go. He never planned to. He wanted the world to know you belonged to him, no matter what it cost, no matter who else got hurt. Your pulse thundered in your ears as your thoughts spiraled. You had walked into the trap he laid, believing his breakdown, believing maybe last night had been some final closure.
Jungkook hadn’t been letting you go. He had been tightening the leash. Quietly. Cleverly. Step by step and now he had the world watching, waiting for the reveal. Your phone vibrated again. Another message from him.
“Baby… don’t make me feel abandoned again. You don’t know how far I’ll go.”
A chill ran through your spine.
---
You stare at your buzzing phone, the screen lighting up every few seconds with new messages you don’t have the strength to open. Your heart is still hammering from the chaos Jungkook unleashed, but nothing prepares you for the moment when you finally swipe down and see the names on your notifications. Jimin. Minji.
Two people who cared about you deeply, in two completely different ways.
Minji’s messages are long panicked paragraphs, confused questions, and worried voice notes. She had always known about Jungkook. You told her everything when it ended — how exhausted you were, how much it hurt, how desperately you wanted peace. She supported you, she held your hand through your breakdowns, she didn’t judge when you said you wanted to move forward and start again. Even when she was shocked that you and Jimin suddenly got together, she swallowed that surprise and supported you anyway.
Because that’s what she did, she trusted you and you had broken that trust without even realizing you were doing it.
But Jimin’s messages were different.
Short. Shaking. Devastated.
His name sits there with a preview of a single sentence and an image attached:
“Tell me that’s not you.”
Attached were the photos, the ones the paparazzi or mad fans had posted online. You and Jungkook outside your apartment arguing, bodies close, then a blurred shot of him kissing you. Your face wasn’t crystal clear but your clothes were. Your building was. Anyone who knew you well only needed a second to recognize you.
You feel your throat close. Your fingers tremble around the phone. Because Jimin sweet, kind, patient Jimin didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve for you to choose silence when he was reaching out scared and hurting. He didn’t deserve to doubt everything he believed in just because you made a terrible mistake.
You want to text him back. You want to explain. You want to tell him you didn’t mean to hurt him, that everything got out of control, that you made one stupid, emotional, horrible choice and now the whole world thinks the worst of you.
But how do you say any of that? What explanation fixes betrayal?
So instead you stare at the screen, frozen while your phone keeps vibrating in your hand. More calls. More messages.
Minji:
“Y/n, pick up.”
“Please tell me you didn’t go back to him.”
“What happened?”
Jimin:
“I’m waiting.”
“Just say it wasn’t you.”
Then, after a long pause: “…why won’t you answer?”
That one breaks you.
Tears spill before you even notice them. Your chest aches with a sickening pressure guilt, fear, shame all bleeding together until you can’t breathe normally anymore. You sink onto the bed, pressing your palms over your face as the reality sets in. You didn’t just ruin your relationship with Jungkook. You broke Jimin too and Minji’s trust and maybe even yourself. Your phone keeps ringing from somewhere under your hands, the sound echoing painfully through the silence of your apartment.
-------
Your body finally gave up on you.
After hours of crying until your vision blurred, replaying everything in your mind until it physically hurt, after drowning your guilt with cheap whiskey on an empty stomach, you collapsed sideways on the bed, exhausted and shaking. You didn't remember when your eyes closed, only that the silence of your room slowly swallowed you whole.
No messages. No arguments. No thoughts.
Just the dead weight of emotional numbness dragging you into a restless sleep. You had no idea how long you slept minutes, hours, you didn’t know. Your head was pounding, your mouth dry, and your body felt heavy, as if you were underwater.
Until something warm slid up your bare thigh.
Your eyes snapped open.
A shadow hovered beside your bed. Your breath caught in your throat, panic setting in, and you almost screamed but a hand clamped over your mouth before a sound could escape. Your pulse hammered wildly as your eyes adjusted to the darkness.
Jungkook.
Sitting on the edge of your bed, his face half-lit by the moonlight cracking through your curtains. His expression unreadable, eyes dark and too calm. “Shh,” he whispered, voice low and disturbingly controlled, “it’s just me.”
You jerk his hand away from your mouth, heart still pounding. You stare at him, stunned, anger rising up to your throat. How was he here?
He used to come in freely when you were together, but you changed your password. You locked your windows. You made sure he couldn’t do exactly this.
Yet he still got inside.
A cold realization crawled down your spine. He had planned this. All of it.
You sit up, pushing yourself back, fury sparking through your exhaustion. “Why are you here?” you spat, your voice hoarse from crying and the alcohol.
Jungkook just tilted his head slightly, as if the question amused him more than offended him. “I thought you needed me, love,” he murmured, voice soft and dangerous the kind of tone that could make anyone feel safe, yet you knew better by now. His eyes gleamed, even in the dark. He looked at you as if he hadn’t just detonated your entire life online.
Your hands clenched into fists at your sides. “After ruining my peace,” you hissed, rage trembling in your voice, “the last thing I want is you being here.” He didn’t flinch. He just kept looking at you, with that unsettling, quiet certainty.
“Was it all for revenge?” you demanded, your voice breaking, “All of this ruining my life, humiliating me, destroying everything I had left- was that what you wanted?” For a moment, silence. The room felt too small. Too cold. Too quiet.
Jungkook stared at you in silence for a few long, agonizing seconds unblinking, unreadable. His chest rose and fell slowly, almost too calmly, and you held your breath without meaning to. Then, suddenly. He laughed.
Not a small chuckle but a hollow, broken laugh that scraped against the walls and rattled through your spine. You froze. It wasn’t the laughter you knew. It wasn’t the boy who used to kiss your forehead in supermarket aisles or laugh into the crook of your neck at 2 AM.
This was something else. Something frightening. His laughter died as quickly as it started. The switch was almost inhuman, his expression turning still, almost eerily blank as his hand came up to your face. His fingers brushed your cheek with terrifying gentleness.
Even now, his touch remembered you.
“Even after everything you’ve done,” he whispered, voice low and tender in a way that made your stomach twist, “I still love you.” You swallowed hard, unable to move, unable to look away. Jungkook’s thumb traced your jaw slowly, obsessively like he was memorizing your shape from scratch.
“Sometimes,” he continued, his voice dipping into something dark and claiming, “I wish I could just kill you. Then no one else could have you.”
Your heart stopped.
He said it like it was normal. Like it was romantic. You stared at him horrified and speechless. Then his expression softened in a way that made it even more terrifying.
“But I’m selfish,” he murmured with a soft smile, “I want you alive… breathing right next to me.” There it was, the confirmation of what you were slowly realizing. He wasn’t the Jungkook you used to know. This man, this version was terrifying.
You slapped his hand away and pushed yourself back, voice shaking with rage. “You’re insane. Get out of my house.”
You didn’t get another word in.
Jungkook surged forward, grabbing your wrists with cold, sudden strength. He yanked you toward him so fast you stumbled into his chest, your breath knocked out of you. His grip was iron, fingers digging into your skin hard enough to bruise. His breathing was loud, heavy, uneven. Not controlled anymore. Not composed.
You could practically feel the rage under his skin.
“Let go of me!” you hissed, twisting, trying to pull your wrists free. Wrong move. It only made him snap. His jaw clenched, and before you could stop him, Jungkook twisted your arms behind your back and pinned them there, his hand securing both wrists with humiliating ease. You gasped, body pressed against his chest, helpless under the hold.
“Don’t make me hurt you, Y/N,” he growled, voice low and dangerous against your ear. “I love you but you behaving like this is making me do things I never wanted to do.” You glared up at him, chest heaving, anger blazing even through the fear.
“I don’t care what you want,” you shot back, voice shaking but defiant, “I want you gone. I don’t want you. I don’t love you. I never will again.” His eyes darkened, something inside them breaking in real time.
You kept going, pushing the blade in deeper.
“I tried so hard to fit into what you wanted, Jungkook. I kept shrinking myself, thinking I wasn’t enough. But now I get it, nothing would have ever been enough, because you didn’t love me… you just needed to keep me.”
You breathe shakily, eyes locked on his. “And who knows… maybe you were the one cheating behind my back. You attract so many women. You were always surrounded by them, always close to them. Maybe I was just one of the many while I was blindly believing you.”
His expression cracks when your words hit him, the muscle in his jaw twitching as if something inside finally snaps. In the next second, he is on you, his hand sliding down your thigh, fingers sinking hard enough into your bare skin that you gasp.
“Blaming me…?” he laughs, but there’s no humor in it, only bitterness. “After you were the one caught cheating on me?” You suck in a sharp breath, tears burning your eyes, but he only watches them fall with a cold satisfaction.
“How pathetic and selfish can you be,” he whispers, voice low and mocking. “So insecure. So dumb. And now you turn everything around on me?” Your heart races in your chest, but you lift your chin, refusing to look away. Maybe it was stupid, maybe dangerous, but you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of watching you crumble not yet.
His nails dig deeper into your thigh, making you hiss, pain sparking along your nerves. He leans in close enough that you can feel his breath on your lips.
“You are the only woman in my life, Y/n,” he growls. “Everywhere I went, I thought of you. I lived for you. And you…” His voice breaks not weak, but unhinged.
“You threw me away like I was nothing.” Before you can react, his other hand releases the hold on your wrists, only to slide up and curl around your throat. Not choking, just holding. Claiming. Controlling. A warning in the shape of his fingers. Your pulse beats against his palm, too fast, too loud.
“Look at you,” he murmurs. “Still provoking me, still pushing, still testing how far I’ll go.”
You glare back, tears falling harder. “Because you can’t accept that I didn’t choose you.” Something flashes in his eyes anger, pain, a dangerous mix that makes your stomach twist.
“Oh, I accept it,” he says quietly. “I just refuse to let you believe I was the villain in all of this. You made yourself small because you were scared, not because I asked you to. You convinced yourself I didn’t care because you never believed you were worth being loved.”
His grip on your thigh tightens as his patience thins. “And now you sit here pretending I was the one who didn’t love enough?” His voice drops lower, darker controlled, but cracking at the edges.
“Say whatever you want, Y/n. Curse me. Hate me. But stop lying to yourself. You didn’t leave because you stopped loving me.” He leans in until your lips nearly touch.
“You left because you were terrified that one day… I might stop.” Your chest tightens, breath catching. You shouldn’t react but there’s venom in his words, and some part of them stings because they hit too close to an old truth you never said out loud.
Still, you force yourself to speak “You’re only proving why I had to leave…” That finally makes him lose control. His fingers flex around your throat, still not hurting you, but trembling with the restraint it takes to hold himself back.
“Keep pushing me,” he whispers, voice raw. “Keep testing me. But don’t act surprised when there’s nothing left to hold my restraint in place.” His eyes burn into yours obsession, grief, fury, heartbreak all in one molten stare.
“And then, Y/n…” He brushes his thumb along your jaw, almost tender. “It won’t be just your thigh that hurts.”
-------
Jungkook finally exhales slow, sharp, and exhausted. You can see the moment something in him shuts down. Not calm, just done. “Enough,” he mutters, standing. His voice has changed. No more shouting, no more shaking anger, just cold finality. You tense, expecting another argument, another round of emotional warfare, but instead he reaches for your wrist.
“Let’s sleep.”
You stare at him, stunned. “What? I’m not sleeping. I want you out. I want-”
Before you finish, Jungkook shoves you not violently, but firmly enough that your body falls backward onto the bed with a soft bounce and a gasp of surprise. Your palms press into the sheets as you try to push up, but he is already climbing in after you, his weight sinking the mattress.
“Jungkook-”
He ignores you completely. His arm snakes around your waist with frightening ease, pulling you sharply back into his chest. His grip locks you in place, your back pressed against his solid frame, his legs tangled with yours, bodies too close to breathe without touching.
You wriggle, but he only tightens his hold, chin resting on your shoulder like this is the most normal thing in the world. “Let go,” you whisper, voice shaking. “Let me go. Please.”
He closes his eyes. “Just sleep.”
“No- no, Jungkook, I don’t want-”
“I’m tired,” he says simply, voice low, almost eerily calm. “You should be too.” Tears hit your pillow. You try to pull your arms free, but his is like steel around you.
“Get out of my house,” you choke out. “Do you hear me? Get out.” He hums an infuriatingly soft, lazy sound.
“I’ll leave in the morning.”
“Jung-”
“Y/n.” Your name leaves his mouth like a warning. “I said sleep.” You start crying harder, because this isn’t love anymore. This is someone who refuses to let go, even while the pieces are cutting both of you. His hand slides up, grabbing your fingers one by one until he interlocks them with his. You try to yank away, but he won’t budge.
“You can cry,” he murmurs, eyes still closed. “But you’re not going anywhere tonight.” His breath brushes your ear, warm and terrifyingly steady.
“I lost you once. That was my mistake.” He presses closer, a heavy, unmovable presence behind you. “I’m not losing you while you sleep.” You shut your eyes tightly, shoulders shaking. Because no matter how much you hated this, no matter how much you fought, he was already asleep. Peacefully.
While you lay awake in his arms, trapped, crying silently into the dark.
--------
Jungkook felt the weight of everything pressing on him at once your rejection, your silence, your distance, and now the backlash from the company. Executives yelling, threats about contracts, negative press, fans demanding answers all because he snapped and refused to let you disappear. He hadn’t meant for things to get this messy.
But what choice did he have?
If he hadn’t become an idol. If he had been just Jungkook, a normal man. He would’ve never let you feel insecure, never hidden you, never made you doubt your worth. He would have shown the world you were his, loved you loudly and freely without worrying who was watching. But the world he lived in didn’t allow that. So he did the only thing he could:
He forced the world to look and now everyone was angry his company, the public, the fans yet none of that scared him as much as the thought of losing you. He stood in your room, watching you sleep.
It was already noon, sunlight brushed your face, but you were still curled under the blanket, exhausted from tears, arguments, alcohol, and a night of emotions that neither of you were prepared for. Your breathing was slow and uneven like even in sleep, your body wasn’t at peace.
Jungkook’s jaw tightened. Had you even eaten? How long had you been crying before you finally collapsed? He stepped closer. You looked so small, so fragile, too tired to fight. His eyes slid to your phone on the nightstand, a screen lighting up again and again, vibrating non-stop. The name glared at him clearly:
JIMIN.
His fingers curled. Of course it was him. He looked back at you once beautiful and unaware and then picked up the phone just as it vibrated again. Jungkook walked out of the bedroom before answering, shutting the door behind him with a click.
He pressed accept.
“Y/n?” Jimin’s voice came through immediately worried, breathy, relieved just knowing you picked up. Jungkook’s teeth ground together.
“No,” he answered, voice cold and steady. “I’m Y/n’s boyfriend. She’s still asleep. Is this about work?” Silence. Complete silence from the other side. Jimin had clearly stopped breathing for a second. Jungkook could almost picture him jaw dropped, heart dropping faster.
Then Jimin whispered, confused and horrified, “Y-You’re… Jungkook?” A slow, mocking smile tugged at Jungkook’s lips.
“Mhm. Yes.” He didn’t wait for a response. He ended the call himself.
Then, without hesitation, he opened your settings and blocked Jimin’s number.
If Jimin thought he could take you away, If Jimin thought he could replace him, He was stupid. You were upset. Lost. Hurt. You ran to the nearest comfort and Jimin just happened to be there but that didn’t make him your future. Jungkook shoved the phone back onto the nightstand with a dull thud. You were his. You had always been his. You would always be his. If the world needed reminding. He would remind them. Even if he had to burn everything else to the ground to do it.
------
The world wakes up before you do. Your phone won’t stop vibrating on the bedside table, dozens of notifications rolling in mentions, tags, news alerts, fan posts, angry comments, confused ones, shocked ones. You’re still rubbing sleep from your eyes when the first headline hits you like a slap.
JEON JUNGKOOK POSTS A WEDDING ANNOUNCEMENT?
No photos of you. No faces. Just one picture, elegant velvet ring boxes, lids cracked open enough to show a glint of gold, resting on top of a handwritten letter. The caption, short devastating.
Soon to be wedded.
Your heart drops. You don’t even realize Jungkook is standing behind you until you hear his quiet voice. “Beautiful, aren’t they?” You turn, wide-eyed. “Jungkook… what did you do?” He looks terrifyingly calm for someone who just dropped a marriage announcement to the entire world. He moves closer, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.
“I fixed everything.”
“You posted about our wedding? Are you insane? My name is everywhere, people will dig it out! What are you thinking?” You’re breathlessly anxious, but Jungkook? He simply stares at you as if you’re the unreasonable one.
“I’m thinking,” he says slowly, “about us. About you. About how you were slipping away.” Your stomach twists. “Jungkook, I never agreed to-”
“You would have,” he cuts in, his voice soft but sharp, “if you stopped pushing me away.” He steps back, jaw clenched, eyes flashing with something dark and fragile.
“You cheated on me,” he whispers, and that single sentence breaks the air. Your lips part, guilt choking your words. “You hurt me. You chose someone else. You made me hate myself. But even then…” His breath shakes.
“I still chose you.” It hits you like a knife when his voice cracks on the last word. He laughs, a broken laugh as he turns away and covers his mouth like he can’t breathe.
“You know what’s funny?” he says with a hoarse chuckle. “After everything… I still wake up and think of how to keep you. How to prove I’m worth loving.” Your throat burns.
He turns back, eyes shining with tears he refuses to let fall. “But you? Even after all that… you still think I’ll lose you, so you ran into someone else’s arms.”
“I saw it,” he whispers. “I saw how Jimin became your comfort. I saw how you leaned on him. I saw how you smiled at your phone.” He looks like he might break right in front of you. “And you know what scared me most? It wasn’t that you cheated-” He steps forward, grabbing your hands.
“It was that you were… happy with him.” Your heart sinks.
“I wasn’t thinking straight,” you mumble. “No,” he says, shaking his head, voice trembling, “you were just scared. And you needed someone who looked at you like he’d never let you go.” His thumb strokes your knuckles.
“But you forgot something…” His lips curl into something almost tragic. “You weren’t Jimin’s to take.” You flinch. “You were mine. You are mine.” He gestures toward the laptop still open to the news. “And now, the world knows.”
Your mind spins. “Jungkook… you can’t just decide something like marriage without asking me!”
He smiles. “You think I didn’t ask?” His voice turns dangerously soft. “I begged. I tried. You kept shutting me out. You kept pretending you didn’t want me anymore.” He leans in close. “So I removed the choice.”
“Why would you do that to me?” you whisper, eyes filling. His answer is gentle.
“Because you were leaving.” He cups your cheek. “And I would rather burn my career and my reputation than watch you walk into someone else’s life.” A beat of silence.
“Even after cheating on me,” he whispers, “I still chose you. Even after breaking me, I still want you. Why are you the only one who’s allowed to make mistakes?” Tears slip down your cheek.
“Why am I the only one fighting for this?”
You have no words. Because in that moment, God help you, he sounds right. You did doubt him. You did run. You did go to someone else when you were scared. Maybe you deserve this. Maybe he isn’t the monster. Maybe the problem was you. You collapse against him, shaking. His arms immediately wrap around you possessive, protective, unbreakable.
He murmurs into your hair. “Everyone already knows, love. If you leave now, they will tear you apart. You’ll be the girl who abandoned me on the day I publicly chose her.” He isn’t threatening you. He’s telling the truth and worse, He knows you know it. His hand tilts your chin up and he smiles a soft, relieved, heartbreakingly triumphant smile.
“So marry me.”
Your lips part, trembling. “Jungkook…”
His thumb wipes your tears. “You have nowhere to run anymore. And I won’t lose you again.” That was the moment, the exact second you fall into the gravity of him again, the toxic, consuming pull that you can’t escape.
You nod.
“I’ll marry you.” His exhale is shaky, like he was holding himself together by a thread. He kisses your forehead.
Requested by nobonds__0009 (at wattpad)
SYNOPSIS: Y/n never thought dating the nation's most loved idol would feel so lonely. While Jungkook shined under the spotlight, she slowly faded in his shadow insecure, unnoticed, and convinced he'd eventually leave her for someone better. But instead of trusting him, she drifts toward comfort in the wrong place Jimin, his closest friend. What began as quiet guilt soon spirals into betrayal. When Jungkook discovers the truth, something inside him shatters.
GENRE: Toxic | Dark Romance | Angst | Obsession
WC: 12.2k
"You said you loved me once... So why are you running now?"
༺𓆩༒︎𓆪༻
The first time you met Jeon Jungkook, the world seemed to pause, just for a second. You weren't supposed to feel that way. You were just a designer, there to prepare his outfits for a stage performance that would be broadcast live to millions. He was the nation's golden boy perfection wrapped in a smile, charm stitched into every move. And you? You were invisible. Or so you thought.
The first time his eyes met yours, it wasn't just a glance it lingered, warm and curious. You could still remember that moment clearly: the sound of fabric rustling, the faint hum of the studio lights, and his voice breaking the silence.
"You made this?" he asked, brushing his fingers over the collar of the jacket you had designed.
Your throat went dry. "Ah... yes. It's for your stage opening. I wasn't sure if-"
"It's perfect," he interrupted, smiling. "You have good taste."
That smile stayed with you for days weeks, even. You'd seen idols before. You'd worked with them, dressed them, watched them turn into someone else under the lights. But Jungkook was different. His eyes carried warmth that didn't fade with fame. And when he laughed, it felt too genuine for someone who lived in a world built on performance.
Every fitting, every quiet moment behind the curtains, pulled you closer. He'd tease you about your sketches, ask for your opinion on colors, sometimes stay longer than necessary just to talk.
"You're always so serious when you work," he once said, leaning against the mirror with that half-smile that made your pulse skip. "You should smile more. It suits you."
You tried not to read too much into it. After all, he was an idol you were just a designer. But hearts don't listen to reason.
When Jungkook finally made the first move, it felt like something out of a dream. He had waited until everyone left the studio, the soft buzz of the city fading into the night.
"Can I see you again?" he asked, his voice low, uncertain not like the confident idol the world knew, but like a boy afraid of being turned down.
You could only nod, your heart pounding too fast to speak. That was the beginning a secret stitched between stage lights and whispered calls. You weren't supposed to fall for him. But how could you not, when every word, every touch, felt like a promise?
-------
Now, things were different. The same man who once found excuses to see you now struggled to find time at all.
You sat on the edge of the couch in his apartment, legs crossed, eyes fixed on him as he spoke to his manager on the phone. His tone was polite but tired, the kind of exhaustion that came from endless rehearsals, interviews, and expectations.
"I'll be there in an hour," he said softly, rubbing the back of his neck before glancing at you.
You offered a faint smile the kind that never reached your eyes. He smiled back, but it felt like a habit now, not warmth.
Dating an idol wasn't easy. You'd told yourself that countless times, but lately, it sounded more like a reminder than comfort. He'd be home late, he'd leave early, and when you were together, his phone never stopped ringing. Every time he silenced one call, another came through his manager, his team, the world that owned him before you ever could.
You sighed quietly, looking down at your hands. There was a time when those hands would tremble just from holding his. Now, they just rested still waiting, hoping.
Your mind drifted back to when everything began the late-night talks, the gentle laughter, the stolen moments that felt like the universe had bent just to bring you together. How did something so beautiful start to hurt this much?
You didn't blame him not really. You knew how demanding his world was. But love shouldn't feel this lonely.
"I'll make it up to you, okay?" Jungkook said, voice soft as he ended the call and sat beside you.
"Just one more meeting, and then I'm all yours tonight."
You nodded, smiling weakly. You wanted to believe him. You wanted to believe the boy who once looked at you like you were the only real thing in his world still existed behind the tired idol in front of you.
-------
It's late. The clock blinks past midnight, and the faint city hum leaks through your apartment window. You stare at the empty couch, the untouched tea cooling beside you, the kind of silence that wraps around your chest until breathing feels heavy.
You'd stopped waiting hours ago, or at least that's what you told yourself. Still, your eyes keep flicking toward the door every time the elevator hums outside.
Then, you hear it the familiar click of the lock.
Jungkook steps in, shoulders heavy, hoodie pulled low, cap shadowing his tired eyes. The same scent faint cologne and exhaustion, fills the room. He drops his bag by the door and offers you a soft, weary smile.
"Hey," he says, voice low but warm. "Still awake?"
You nod, forcing a small smile.
He moves closer, brushing his fingers through his hair before collapsing beside you on the couch. He looks worn out the kind of tired that fame carves into people's bones. Yet, somehow, he still looks beautiful. Effortlessly, painfully beautiful.
For a moment, you just watch him, the way his fingers tap against his knee, the way his lips curve faintly when he finally meets your eyes.
This used to feel like peace. Now, it just feels fragile.
Because no matter how many times he came back to you, a part of you always feared he wouldn't. After all, he was Jeon Jungkook, the man everyone wanted, the face on billboards and headlines and you were just the girl behind the designs he wore. The one no one knew existed.
Your love was a secret quiet, hidden, almost forbidden. So when he came over, it wasn't to fancy restaurants or dates under stars; it was here, in your small apartment, where the world couldn't see. He used to say it made him feel safe.
"I like it here," he'd always murmur, tracing his thumb along your wrist. "It feels like home."
Once, those words had made your heart flutter. Now, you weren't sure if home was still what you were to him or just a place he came to rest between tours, interviews, and rehearsals. You must've zoned out again, lost somewhere between doubt and memory, because his voice suddenly breaks through your thoughts.
"Hey," he whispers, leaning closer. "Where'd you go just now?"
You blink, startled by how softly he's looking at you. "Just... thinking. Work stuff," you lie, your voice barely above a whisper.
Jungkook sighs, not convinced but too tired to push. He smiles a little, his hand sliding around your waist as he pulls you against him.
"Then stop thinking," he says softly, brushing his lips against your temple. "I'm tired."
Before you can answer, he shifts, and suddenly you're lifted off the couch with an easy strength that startles you. You gasp, clutching his shoulders as he grins that playful, boyish grin that still manages to make your heart twist.
"Jungkook!" you whisper, flustered. "You said you were tired-"
"I am," he says, eyes glinting under the dim light. "But I'll never be too tired for you."
Your breath catches, a bitter-sweet ache settling in your chest. He presses a kiss to your forehead, carrying you toward the bedroom, and for a second, you let yourself forget the loneliness, the doubts, the silence between his visits.
You let yourself pretend he's still yours the way he once was. Because even if his love feels like it's fading he's still the only person who can make you feel like you're seen and maybe that's what hurts the most.
--------
The soft light of morning filters through your curtains, painting the room in pale gold. The air is still, almost too still, the kind that tells you you're alone before you even open your eyes. You turn toward the other side of the bed. Cold sheets.
He's gone.
A small note rests on the nightstand, folded neatly beside your phone. You already know what it says before you pick it up.
Had to leave early. Schedule came up. I'll call you later. Love you. - Jk
You stare at the handwriting for a moment, the tiny heart scribbled beside his initials. Once, that little gesture made you smile. Now, it only makes your chest tighten.
You exhale slowly and set the note aside. This wasn't new. You'd gotten used to it, the empty mornings, the fading warmth on the pillow, the promises of "I'll make it up to you".
You drag yourself out of bed, your body moving through routine like muscle memory shower, skincare, coffee, a bite of toast you barely taste. You glance at your phone lighting up on the counter: Jungkook ❤️ - 3 Messages.
You don't open them. Not yet. Maybe not today.
--------
Work feels different today or maybe it's just you trying too hard to feel different. The studio buzzes with energy, threads and fabrics scattered across tables, the faint hum of machines filling the air. It's loud, alive nothing like the silence of your apartment.
You lose yourself in sketches and designs, the only place where your hands don't shake and your mind stops overthinking.
"Y/n," a familiar voice calls, pulling you back from your thoughts.
You look up to see Jimin, holding two lunch boxes and that easy smile that never fails to lift the mood around him.
"You skipped lunch again, didn't you?" he says, setting one in front of you. "You can't keep surviving on caffeine."
You blink, surprised. "You really didn't have to-"
"Yeah, yeah. Just eat," he says with a mock glare, pulling up a chair beside you.
You can't help but laugh a real laugh, one that escapes before you can stop it. He grins, clearly pleased with himself, and starts chatting about random things his weekend, a fashion mishap he saw online, a hilarious client request that made you both laugh until your eyes watered.
Somewhere between bites and laughter, your phone buzzes again. You glance at the screen 'Jungkook (10 missed calls)' and quickly flip it face down.
Jimin notices but doesn't say anything. Instead, he gestures toward your half-finished design.
"That one looks nice. Is it for a show?"
You nod. "Yeah. A new stage collection."
"Then it'll be great," he says simply, his tone soft but sure. "You always make things look beautiful."
You pause, caught off guard by his words not because of what he said, but because of how long it's been since someone made you feel seen without trying.
The two of you sit there a while longer, trading stories and inside jokes. For the first time in weeks, you don't check your phone. You don't wonder where Jungkook is or who's asking for him. You just let yourself exist laugh, talk, breathe and for a fleeting moment, you feel light again.
--------
You don't even hear the door open this time, you just feel it. The familiar weight of presence, the faint cologne that fills the air before he even says a word.
"Y/n," Jungkook's voice is quiet, a mix of worry and relief. You look up from the couch, startled. His hair's a mess, cap in his hand, breathing a little too fast like he'd come running.
"Why weren't you answering my calls?" he asks softly, stepping closer. "I texted you so many times."
You blink, caught off guard by how gentle he sounds instead of angry. "I... I was at work," you mumble, eyes dropping to your hands.
"You could've at least said something," he murmurs, crouching in front of you now. "I thought something happened."
You force a small smile. "It's nothing, Jungkook." He studies you for a moment, and then his hand reaches out warm, calloused fingers brushing your cheek as if he's afraid you'll disappear. His thumb strokes your skin gently, eyes searching yours.
"Are you mad at me?" he asks quietly. "For leaving early?" Your throat tightens. The way he says it, like he's trying to fix something he doesn't even realize is broken, makes your chest ache.
You shake your head. "No. I'm just... tired."
He exhales softly, a small smile tugging at his lips as he presses a kiss to your forehead, lingering there for a moment like he's trying to comfort you through touch alone. "My baby works too hard," he murmurs, his voice low and sweet. "You need to rest."
Before you can respond, he pulls you into his arms, guiding you gently down onto the couch. His warmth surrounds you, his arms snug around your waist. You can feel his heartbeat against your back steady, grounding, painfully familiar. He peppers soft kisses across your face your cheeks, your temple, the edge of your jaw each one feather-light, each one making your chest squeeze tighter.
"You've been working too much again," he says in a hushed tone, lips brushing your skin. "You're always so tense."
You close your eyes, biting back the burn rising in your throat. He doesn't know. He doesn't see how the silence between his visits has been eating away at you, how every time he says "I'm sorry, I'll make it up to you", a small part of you wonders if he still means it.
You want to tell him. You want to scream that you're scared, scared of losing him, scared that your insecurities will push him away first. But instead, your voice cracks into a soft, broken sound. He freezes.
"Hey..." he whispers, pulling back to look at you. "What's wrong?"
You shake your head quickly, blinking through the tears you didn't even notice spilling. "It's just... work pressure," you lie, your voice trembling.
He frowns but doesn't push. Instead, he wipes your tears with his thumb, kissing the corners of your eyes one by one.
"Don't cry, baby," he murmurs, voice full of warmth. "I'm here, okay? I'm sorry for leaving you alone lately. I'll do better. I promise."
You nod weakly, leaning into his touch as his hand moves up and down your back. He presses another kiss to your temple, whispering things you barely hear soft apologies, quiet affection, everything you've wanted to believe and still, even as he holds you, the ache doesn't leave. Because deep down, you know this isn't about work, or time, or promises. It's about fear, yours and his tangled between love and the unbearable thought of losing it.
So you let him hold you tighter. You let yourself cry silently against his chest and you let him believe your tears were only from exhaustion.
---------
The morning sun streams softly through the curtains, painting the room in a gentle, golden glow. You stretch, blinking against the light, already aware that the world outside isn't waiting for you but neither is Jungkook.
He's sitting on the edge of the couch, messy hair falling over his forehead, eyes tracing your movements as you gather your bag. The weight in your chest tightens, the familiar mix of longing and guilt that always rises when leaving him.
"Y/n..." His voice breaks through your thoughts, low and whining. "Do you really have to go to work today?"
You pause, turning to face him. "I... I have to. There's a fitting, and some sketches need finishing." Your tone is calm, professional, but it carries the quiet twinge of apology you can't say out loud.
He pouts, that irresistible mix of frustration and sulkiness that used to make your heart ache in happier, simpler times. "I'm here for you," he says softly, crawling toward you. "I'm not going anywhere today. You... you can take the day off. Stay with me."
You shake your head gently, avoiding his gaze. "I really should go, Jungkook. You know I can't just skip it."
He drops his shoulders, a subtle but visible slump, his lips pursed in a small frown. "But... I want to spend the day with you," he murmurs, his hand reaching for yours. "Just today. Please?"
You meet his eyes, feeling the weight of that unspoken plea. He's not trying to control you, not yet but his entire presence, the warmth in his gaze, the subtle tremble of his voice, makes leaving feel almost like betrayal.
"I... I'll be fine," you whisper finally, nodding. "Really."
He studies your face for a long moment, as if trying to read the truth behind the words you can't say. Finally, he sighs, a sound that's half relief, half resignation. "Alright... just... be careful," he murmurs, his fingers brushing against your waist lightly.
You turn, taking a step toward the door. The moment feels heavy, every step echoing in your chest like it's measured against the beats of his heart. You'd thought you could slip out quietly, avoid the pang of leaving him behind. But before you can cross the threshold, a strong hand slides around your waist, halting you in place. You freeze, heart leaping.
"Hey," he says softly, his lips brushing yours in a firm, sweet kiss. "You forgot something."
"Jungkook..." you murmur, cheeks heating as he tilts his head, kissing you again, lingering longer this time.
"Your goodbye kiss," he whispers against your lips, voice playful but tinged with mock disappointment. "I'm sulking now, you know?"
You can't help but let out a small laugh, your chest tightening from the mix of exasperation and longing. He smirks against your lips, holding you just a second longer, letting you feel the warmth and intensity he'd always been incapable of hiding.
Finally, you pull away reluctantly, cheeks flushed, heart still racing. He presses a quick peck to your temple, then lets go, hands slipping reluctantly from your waist.
"Go... but come back soon," he murmurs softly, voice low and affectionate, eyes tracking your every move as you leave and as you step out into the world, you carry both the ache of leaving him and the lingering warmth of that kiss, the invisible tether that pulls you back, no matter how far you try to go.
--------
The studio buzzes with energy as you settle into your workspace, sketchpad open, pen moving almost on autopilot. For a moment, you forget the world outside, the quiet ache in your chest from leaving him this morning and then Jimin plops down beside you, holding two cups of coffee like some kind of peace offering.
"You look like you haven't eaten today," he teases gently, setting one cup in front of you. "Don't tell me you've been surviving on caffeine alone again."
You glance up, blinking at him, and feel your lips tug into a small, grateful smile. "Thanks," you murmur, accepting the cup. The warmth seeps into your hands, grounding you in a way you hadn't realized you needed.
"I'll help you with that fitting today," he says, gesturing toward your sketches scattered across the table. "We'll get it done together, and I swear, it'll look perfect."
You can't help the blush that creeps onto your cheeks. Jimin's words are casual, easy, but there's a kindness to them a genuine interest in what you're doing, that makes your heart skip a beat.
"You're really talented, you know?" he continues, glancing at your designs. "I mean... even I didn't know you were this good at this."
You fidget with the edge of your pencil, ears heating. "Th-thank you," you manage, barely looking at him. The compliment is sweet, and for a moment, your mind drifts away from Jungkook entirely.
You laugh softly at one of Jimin's jokes about a celebrity client mishap, the sound genuine and free. He laughs too, eyes crinkling, and you find yourself almost forgetting, just for a little while the weight of your insecurities, the constant worry about being enough for Jungkook.
As lunch passes, you lose track of time entirely. Plates cleared, sketches pinned neatly, coffee cups half-empty, and yet, the phone sitting silently on the table beside you doesn't tempt you. You haven't checked it, eclipsed by Jimin's company and the gentle ease of being with someone who isn't constantly out of reach.
"Hey," Jimin says quietly as he leans closer to show you a new design tweak. "This one looks amazing. You always know exactly what works."
You look up, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. Your chest tightens, warmth flooding your face, and you quickly glance away, heart thudding.
"Thanks," you whisper, heart racing for reasons you don't quite want to admit.
For a while, you let yourself sink into the moment, laughing at his jokes, answering his questions, and sharing ideas and yet, even as you enjoy this fleeting peace, there's a tiny, nagging voice in the back of your mind: the guilt. Because as much as Jimin's attention is comforting, soothing even.
For now, though, you push it aside, letting yourself breathe, let your laughter mix with his, let your heart chase the warmth of being seen, even if only for a little while.
-------
You scroll through your phone, trying to distract yourself from the gnawing emptiness in your chest. The office has quieted down after lunch, papers and sketches scattered across your desk, but your mind isn't on work anymore and then you see it.
Jungkook. On stage, in the middle of a glitzy award ceremony. He's wearing a tailored black suit that hugs him perfectly, the spotlight catching his sharp jawline and golden smile. He's laughing with other stars, moving like he owns the room, as if he doesn't have a single care in the world.
And there she is.
A female star, bright and cheerful, Park Hye-rin. She's leaning close to him for a photo, laughing in a way that makes the crowd behind them cheer. His hand brushes lightly against hers, maybe just a casual touch, but your chest tightens anyway.
The caption on the post reads:
"BTS Jungkook spotted at the Music Awards with Park Hye-rin ✨ #GoldenBoy #CuteChemistry"
Your fingers tremble as you scroll down. The comments are relentless:
"They'd make such a perfect couple 😍"
"Jungkook looks so happy with Hye-rin, hope they date!"
"Shipping them immediately! #JKHyerin"
A bitter lump rises in your throat. Your heart hammers in your chest, a mix of jealousy and disbelief. You can feel your stomach twist, as if something inside you is being squeezed.
You swipe, desperate to see more photos. There's another one, Jungkook's arm casually resting near her waist, his smile radiant, fans gushing in the caption. He's dazzling, untouchable. And she looks perfect too. Perfectly styled, perfectly poised, perfectly the kind of woman the world thinks belongs with him.
You bite your lip, chest tightening. You want to tell yourself it's nothing, that it's just part of his world. But the pang of inadequacy is sharp and immediate. You compare yourself to her, her height, her smile, her flawless hair, her designer dress, everything that feels bigger than you, better than you, closer to the world Jungkook inhabits.
Your fingers curl around your phone as a silent tear slips down your cheek. You shouldn't be jealous. You know this, Jungkook and you are different. You're private, hidden, his secret. You're just Y/n, a designer who once felt so sure about being enough for him and yet, seeing him laughing with her, the world commenting, shipping them in ways you can't compete with it burns.
You put your phone down on the desk, head dropping into your hands. You feel small, unseen, insignificant a shadow behind the brightness of his world. Every missed message, every absence, every late night starts to weigh heavier than before.
And still, deep down, you know the cruelest part, he doesn't even know this side of you. The jealousy, the insecurity, the quiet ache of being afraid you'll never measure up.
You press your palms against your eyes, trying to stop the sting of tears. But you can't. You're jealous. You're scared and most of all. You're helplessly, hopelessly in love with a man who exists in a world you'll never fully belong to.
---------
The office quiets down as the evening settles in, fluorescent lights casting long shadows across your desk. You're about to pack up when Jimin leans against your workspace, a teasing grin on his face.
"Hey, Y/n," he says casually. "A few of us are going out for dinner and soju tonight. You coming?"
You freeze, fingers hovering over your bag strap. Drinking with colleagues? That's never really your scene. "No, thanks," you mumble softly, shaking your head. "I'm... not really in the mood."
Jimin tilts his head, giving you a knowing look. "Come on, you won't regret it. Everyone's asking you to join. Min Yuna's insisting you come. Seriously, you'll have fun."
You hesitate, guilt twisting in your chest. You don't want to go. You want to be home, maybe staring at his texts, maybe imagining him. But something in Jimin's tone, the way he's subtly persistent without being pushy, makes you relent.
"Fine," you sigh, letting him see the faintest smile. "Just... a little."
------
The restaurant is warm and lively, filled with chatter, clinking glasses, and the soft scent of grilled food. You slip into the booth, sitting next to Jimin, the hum of conversation washing over you. You try to focus on the dishes in front of you, the casual jokes of your colleagues, anything to distract your mind.
But then Min Yuna's phone lights up, and a notification brings your world crashing back.
"Oh my god, look at this!" she exclaims, waving her phone toward the table. "Jungkook posted from the Music Awards today. He looks... amazing! And he's with Hye-rin, doesn't he look perfect?"
Your stomach twists into a hard knot. You force a polite smile, nodding vaguely as she gushes over the photos. But inside, your chest burns. That same image you had scrolled through earlier at work, Jungkook laughing with Hye-rin, arm brushing hers, a golden smile lighting up the screen, it feels heavier this time, as if the world itself is taunting you.
You force yourself to lift your glass of soju, clinking it lightly with Jimin's in response to a colleague's toast. The liquid burns your throat, warm but sharp, like the jealousy slicing through your chest.
"Here's to a great night," Min Yuna cheers, scrolling through more pictures and gushing about Jungkook's perfect hair, smile, and everything. You laugh softly, almost hollowly, keeping your face neutral. Inside, your thoughts churn. Why her? Why him? Why does it feel like she's everything I'm not?
Another glass comes, and then another, each sip dulling the edges of your frustration but also loosening the careful control you've held onto all day. Jimin chats beside you, offering small compliments on your sketches, helping you with details, making you feel seen and for a fleeting moment, you forget Jungkook entirely.
But it's only fleeting.
Because even as the alcohol warms your blood and loosens your lips, the image of him with Hye-rin keeps flashing in your mind, sharp and relentless. Your fingers tremble slightly as you lift another glass, forcing a small laugh at Min Yuna's teasing remarks, pretending you're fine.
Inside, you ache. You want to be with Jungkook, want to text him, want to see him, want reassurance. But at the same time, a small, bitter voice whispers. Does he even notice me? Does he even care that I'm here, worrying, hurting, watching him exist in a world I can't touch?
The night grows louder, the laughter louder, the clinking glasses sharper, and you let yourself get carried along pretending to enjoy, pretending to belong, while a storm of jealousy, insecurity, and longing rages quietly inside.
By the time you leave, your head is spinning, your cheeks flushed, and your heart heavier than when you arrived. And you know, deep down, that this night won't end the ache. It'll just wait for you, waiting for the moment you see him again.
-------
The ride home is chaos. Your laughter bubbles out uncontrollably, tilting your head back, eyes glassy and unfocused. Every little thing is hilarious, and every glance from Jimin makes your heart feel like it's spinning.
"Y/n, are you... okay?" Jimin asks cautiously, glancing at you through the rearview mirror. His hands grip the wheel a little tighter.
"Of course I'm okay!" you giggle, swaying in the seat as though the car is a stage and you're performing. "I'm perfect! Perfectly fine!"
You throw your head back again, the sound of your laughter echoing through the small space of the car. Your cheeks are flushed, warm from the soju, and your words come fast and loose, slipping past the careful control you usually have.
"Jimin..." you whisper suddenly, leaning slightly toward him, a mischievous sparkle in your eyes. "Do you know how good you are at driving? I like... like... the way you drive. Makes me feel... safe..."
He freezes mid-turn of the wheel, eyes widening slightly. "Uh... thanks... I-"
"And your hands! They're so steady! Do you always drive this steady? Maybe I should... ride with you more often," you slur, giggling, leaning closer, almost brushing your shoulder against his.
Jimin swallows, uncertain, his mind racing. He's never dealt with someone this drunk, let alone someone flirting like this, all while leaning too close, breath warm, laughter infectious. But he can't scold you. You're too fragile, too vulnerable, and clearly, you can barely stand.
"Y/n... you're really drunk. You can't-"
"I'm fineee! No... don't stop me. Play music! Loud! LOUD!" you insist, waving your hands dramatically.
Jimin sighs, pressing a button on the stereo. Music floods the car fast, thumping, drowning out your giggles for a second. You sing along off-key, hands in the air, tilting your head to the rhythm. Then suddenly, a familiar song plays one of Jungkook's tracks.
"Ugh! Stop!" you shout, swatting at the speakers dramatically. "I don't want to listen to him! Not today! Not when he- he... ugh!"
Your words are slurred, full of emotion you barely understand yourself. Your hands flail a little, and you groan, leaning back into the seat, flushed and frustrated.
You throw your hands up, giggling again, rolling your eyes. "Nooo! I don't care! I... I'm mad at him. Totally mad. So don't play it, okay? Skip it, please!"
Jimin hesitates, glancing down at the controls and then back at you. He has no idea what's going on, he just sees you like this: vulnerable, tipsy, and spiraling somewhere between playful and upset. He doesn't want to leave you alone.
"Alright," he says softly, pressing the button to skip the song. "We'll get you home. Don't worry. You'll be safe with me."
You giggle again, collapsing back into the seat, swaying slightly. "Safe..." you murmur, almost dreamy, the warmth of alcohol making your words slur. "Yes... so safe... Jimin... you're nice... I like you... like... like this..."
Jimin swallows hard, gripping the wheel a little tighter, trying to ignore the sharp flutter in his chest. He doesn't know how to handle this. He can't push you away, and he can't read your intentions, he just knows you need someone steady, someone to bring you back from the tipsy spiral you're caught in.
The rest of the ride is quiet but tense. You hum songs, occasionally leaning to peek at him, occasionally giggling at nothing.
By the time he pulls up at his apartment, you're wobbling slightly, and he gently guides you out, supporting you as you stumble a little.
"Come on... let's get you inside," he murmurs, soft and careful. "You're safe now. Don't worry." You giggle again, pressing close to him for a moment, still intoxicated, still flustered, still too vulnerable to realize how much he's noticing every little thing.
------
You blink awake to sunlight spilling through the curtains, warmth hitting your face. The room is quiet except for the faint hum of the city outside. Your head throbs slightly, and a soft groan escapes your lips as you try to sit up.
Wait, where are you?
Your eyes widen as the unfamiliar surroundings come into focus. The bed is bigger than yours, the sheets smooth and neatly tucked. And beside you Jimin is sitting cross-legged on a chair, scrolling lazily through his phone, looking completely unbothered.
"Morning," he says casually, not looking up.
"Morning..." you murmur, voice hoarse, still trying to gather your bearings. "Did... did something happen last night?"
He finally glances at you, smirking slightly. "Something... or were you expecting something?"
Heat rushes to your cheeks, burning your skin. Your ears feel hot. You immediately sit up straighter, pulling the blanket closer to yourself. "N-no! I mean... I don't-"
"Relax," he interrupts, chuckling softly. "Nothing bad happened. You're just... a little tipsy, that's all."
You bury your face in your hands, embarrassed. How had you gotten so drunk? How had you let yourself giggle and flirt so freely without thinking? Your mind races, replaying your own sloppy words, your own flushed laughter.
"But... why am I here?" you ask finally, voice soft, hesitant, eyes peeking through your fingers.
He leans back casually, that easy confidence that always makes your stomach flutter. "I didn't want to leave you alone," he says simply. "And... I didn't know where you live. So, I thought it'd be safer if you stayed here."
You swallow hard, heart thudding in your chest. Something about the simple sincerity in his tone makes your chest tighten, a strange warmth spreading through your body despite your embarrassment.
"You... really didn't have to..." you whisper, glancing down at your hands.
He tilts his head, eyes softening, a teasing smile tugging at his lips. "I know. But I didn't want to risk you wandering around like that, half-drunk and... well, fragile."
You bite your lip, cheeks still flushed, trying to process the strange cocktail of embarrassment, gratitude, and something else, a feeling you can't quite name. The air between you feels thick, heavy, intimate, and for a second, you wish the room could stay just like this quiet, unspoken, where words aren't necessary and yet mean everything.
He chuckles again, that light, teasing sound that makes you want to hide your face and laugh at the same time. "I know. Don't tell anyone," he says, leaning back, pretending to be casual, though you can feel the warmth of his gaze on you.
You sink back into the pillow, cheeks still burning, heart still racing. Despite the embarrassment, a small part of you relaxes, letting yourself feel safe in the quiet presence of someone who didn't question, didn't judge, and simply cared.
-------
You step into your apartment, still carrying the faint haze of yesterday's exhaustion, expecting the quiet hum of your own home. But something feels different. The scent of something warm and comforting, maybe eggs or pancakes drifts from the kitchen. Your brow furrows. Did I forget to turn something off?
And then you see him.
Jungkook. Standing by the stove, sleeves rolled up, the golden sunlight catching the sharp angles of his face. His hair is slightly messy, his expression concentrated as he stirs something in the pan, but the moment he hears you, he spins around.
"Y/n?" His voice is sharp at first, concern threading every syllable. "Where were you? I called you a million times!" Your heart skips. You hadn't expected him to be here not this early, not this casually in your home. You step closer, voice soft, a little embarrassed:
"I... I was at Minji's... you know, my best friend," you say, trying to keep your tone light. "We... it's been a long time since we spent time together."
He pauses, tilting his head slightly as if weighing your words, then nods slowly, acknowledging them. But his gaze doesn't leave you sharp, questioning.
"Then why didn't you reply to my texts or calls?" His voice is low now, almost controlled, but there's a tension beneath it that makes your stomach clench.
"I... I was... too drunk," you admit quickly, biting your lip. "I didn't even notice the calls."
His brow furrows, a flicker of suspicion crossing his features. Lately, you know, you've been more distant texts going unanswered, calls ignored and he notices everything. Even now, he studies you, his instincts sharp.
"You always reply," he says carefully, taking a slow step toward you. "Even when it's just a little thing, you always do. And now lately... you're... distant. Is it... work?"
You nod slightly, hoping the excuse is enough, feeling the weight of his eyes on you. There's a quiet intensity in him, a mix of concern and something deeper, something that makes your chest tighten in a way only he can do.
"Why don't you join me for breakfast?" he asks, gesturing toward the pan in his hands. "I made too much anyway."
You shake your head gently, cheeks warming as the small anxiety of yesterday still lingers. "I... I already had breakfast at Minji's," you say softly, avoiding his eyes for just a second, afraid of what he might read in your expression.
He studies you for a moment longer, his lips pressing into a thin line, eyes narrowing slightly, but he doesn't push. Instead, he moves closer, placing the plate he had been preparing on the counter.
"Alright," he says finally, voice calm but still carrying the edge of worry. "But... if you're lying, Y/n, you know I'll notice."
A shiver runs down your spine. You know he will. And as he turns back to the stove, humming softly, the air between you is thick not uncomfortable, but heavy with the unspoken, the unsaid, and the quiet tension that has started creeping into your mornings.
You lean against the doorframe, hands fidgeting slightly, heart racing. He's here. In your home. Concerned. Watching you. And you can't help but feel the weight of it the warmth, the worry, the intensity pressing on your chest in a way that makes you both grateful and guilty all at once.
---
Your thumb hovers over your phone as you read Jimin's message: "Did you reach home safely?"
A small smile tugs at your lips. The thought that someone cared enough to check in on you, even just as a friend, makes your heart warm. You quickly type back a reply: "Yeah, I'm home. Thanks for checking!"
Without noticing, you let yourself linger over the conversation, smiling quietly at the screen. The dim light from the TV flickers across your face, highlighting the warmth of your flushed cheeks.
From the corner of your eye, you notice him watching you Jungkook, sitting on the couch, breakfast plate still in hand, his expression calm but attentive, as if he's been quietly observing your every movement.
"Who's that?" he asks casually, but there's an undertone a quiet curiosity that makes your chest tighten.
"It's Minji," you reply softly, still typing, your fingers moving automatically.
He hums, eyes narrowing slightly, and leans back against the couch, taking a slow bite of his food. You glance up briefly, catching the way he watches you, the intensity in his gaze pressing softly against your skin.
"Why are you smiling so much while texting her?" he asks, voice casual but curious, leaning forward slightly.
You shrug lightly, cheeks warming as you try to keep your tone light. "Minji's going on a date tonight. I'm excited for her, it's been a long time since she had one."
He freezes mid-bite, letting your words sink in. For a moment, the room feels heavy with unspoken tension. His lips press into a thin line, and he leans back, setting down his fork.
"It's been a while since we went out on a date too, hasn't it?" he murmurs, voice soft, almost wistful. Your heart skips. You want to smile, but the weight of reality the constant prying eyes, the fans, the possibility of a scandal, presses down on you.
"I... don't think we can," you whisper, shaking your head gently. "Not with all the fans and cameras... it would cause a fuss."
His lips purse, and a small sulk tugs at his features. You can feel the subtle shift in the room, the quiet tension, the longing in his eyes, and the faint pout he tries to hide behind composure.
"Hmm," he murmurs, voice low, eyes not leaving yours. "I guess... we'll just have to wait then." You glance at him, the sulk tugging at his expression making your chest tighten. You know he's only teasing yet there's something deeper there, a quiet possessiveness hidden behind his playful frustration.
For a moment, you catch yourself wondering if he notices everything every glance, every smile, every little thing that makes your heart flutter. But before you can think too much, he reaches for his coffee, taking a slow sip, leaving you alone with the faint weight of your own guilty, fluttering heart.
And for now, the TV flickers between you, a quiet witness to the subtle tension, the half-hidden longing, and the silent push-and-pull of two hearts quietly entwined yet hesitant.
---
The morning feels heavier than usual. Jungkook's suitcase sits in the corner, half-packed, a silent reminder that soon, he'll be gone for weeks three long, empty weeks without him. You watch him as he paces the apartment, checking his flight details, muttering softly to himself, but your heart tightens more than his anxious fidgeting ever could.
"I don't want to leave you," he says suddenly, voice low, almost a whisper, and you look up from the book you're pretending to read. His eyes are warm, intense, yet shadowed with the kind of vulnerability he rarely shows anyone else. "I'm going to miss you too much."
You bite your lip, heart aching at the raw emotion in his gaze. "Kook... it's your work," you murmur softly, trying to steady yourself. "You have to go... this is important. You'll be back in three weeks."
He shakes his head, almost stubbornly, stepping closer until he's right in front of you. His hands gently hold your face, thumbs brushing across your cheeks. "Three weeks feels like forever," he murmurs, voice hoarse, almost lovesick. "I can't... I don't want to go without holding you first. I need... cuddles, kisses... everything before I leave."
Your stomach tightens. You want to hold him, to melt into him, but a whisper of insecurity creeps into your mind, the lingering fear that he might forget you, that you're not enough. "Jungkook... I... maybe you should go now. You need to get to the airport..."
He frowns, the slightest pout tugging at his lips, but he doesn't move. Instead, he pulls you closer into a tight embrace, resting his chin gently on your shoulder. "I'm not going yet," he says softly, voice trembling with the tiniest hint of desperation. "I want to spend the whole day with you... just you and me."
You sigh, letting yourself melt slightly into his chest, heart aching in a way that only he can cause. "Kook... I'm scared," you whisper. "I'll... I'll feel so lonely while you're gone."
"You won't be," he murmurs, tilting your chin up to look at you. His thumb traces your lips softly. "I'll be thinking about you every second. And I'll come back for you. I promise. But today... today is for us."
The hours stretch lazily, painfully, as Jungkook lingers beside you, holding your hands, stealing kisses whenever your attention drifts, murmuring little confessions of how much he loves you. He's lovesick, and it's evident in the way he nuzzles your neck, clings a little tighter to your waist, and whispers soft promises against your hair.
You can't help the twinge of guilt that pricks your chest, his love for you is fierce, overwhelming, and yet you feel unworthy, small, insecure. Still, you cling to him in return, savoring every fleeting second, afraid to let go.
"You have to go eventually," you whisper later, pressing your face against his chest. "Don't be late for your flight."
He groans softly, lifting your chin with one hand, eyes shining with that lovesick intensity. "I know... but I don't want to leave. Not without this," he murmurs, kissing your forehead, your cheeks, your lips each kiss lingering, filled with longing and desperation.
Hours pass like seconds. And when the time finally comes for him to leave, he doesn't want to go to the airport. He simply can't. So instead, he spends the last precious moments at your home clinging to you, burying his face in your neck, stealing one last, deep kiss before reluctantly stepping back, suitcase in hand.
"I'll be back soon," he whispers, voice husky and soft, wrapping his arms around you one final time. "And when I do... I'm never letting you go again."
You nod, heart aching, eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "I'll... wait for you," you whisper, holding onto him as if letting go would shatter you.
He gives you one last smile soft, aching, lovesick before finally turning away, stepping into the hallway with a heavy heart, leaving you standing in the apartment, the faint scent of him lingering, and the echo of his promises wrapping around your chest like a bittersweet ache and as the door clicks shut, you press your palms to your face, letting yourself shiver with a mix of longing, fear, and the small, fragile hope that three weeks will pass somehow and he will come back to you.
------
The first night without Jungkook is always the hardest. The apartment feels too quiet, too big, too empty. His hoodie still hangs on the chair. His cologne lingers in your sheets. Everywhere you look, it feels like pieces of him are watching you reminding you of what you're losing and what you fear you aren't enough for.
Days pass.
Jungkook sends you messages, voice notes, even photos of his hotel room, telling you how much he misses you, how much he wants to come back. But instead of warmth, all you feel is a strange, suffocating pressure.
Every "I miss you" makes the knot in your chest tighter.
So when Jimin stops by your desk at work, smiling softly and asking if you want to grab lunch together.
You don't say no.
------
Jimin talks comfortably about work, about music, about random things that make you laugh without thinking. He doesn't question why you suddenly seem lighter around him. He doesn't ask why your phone keeps buzzing and you don't bother checking it.
He doesn't notice the way your chest tightens when you see Jungkook's name light up the screen.
Around him, your brain quiets. Your insecurity fades into the background. It's like breathing without weight for the first time in days.
Soon, lunch becomes coffee. Coffee becomes staying late at work together. Staying late becomes joking, teasing, working side by side until the office is empty except for you two and Jimin. He's warm. He's gentle. He's sweet in a way that doesn't make your heart race with fear, only comfort. You don't even realize you're falling into a rhythm with him a careful, soft rhythm that makes you forget the storm waiting inside your chest.
One evening, Jimin taps your shoulder while you're staring blankly at your computer screen.
"Y/n... you okay? You look tired."
You blink up at him, startled. He's standing too close, soft eyes filled with worry and something inside you, something fragile and aching melts.
"I'm fine," you lie, voice barely above a whisper.
"I just... needed a distraction."
Jimin smiles gently, his hand brushing the back of your chair as if offering silent comfort.
"Well..." he says with a light chuckle, "I can distract you anytime you want."
You laugh, a real laugh and the sound startles even you. For a moment, the heaviness lifts. The picture of Jungkook in your phone background seems distant.
Jimin notices the way your shoulders loosen, your eyes soften, your breath steadies. He doesn't comment on it. He simply sits beside you, helping with your designs, nudging your elbow playfully, making you forget the ache in your chest little by little.
-------
You lie on your bed staring at the ceiling, eyes burning from the long day you barely survived. Everything went wrong at work. Every little thing slipped from your hands, and your manager's voice still echoes in your head sharp, disappointed, humiliating. You weren't strong enough to handle it, but Jimin was there. He picked up the pieces. He always does.
He didn't judge you, didn't raise his voice, didn't give you that look people give when they realize you're failing. He made you laugh, somehow even when you didn't want to and for a moment, while he stood beside you explaining things gently, you forgot how small and incompetent you felt.
Then your phone buzzes.
Jungkook. Video call.
Your stomach drops.
You don't have the energy. Not for him. Not for his brightness. Not for his success that only reminds you of everything you aren't. You stare blankly at his name on the screen, thumb hovering over the screen. You sigh, long and shaky, then finally accept the call, but you don't turn on your camera.
Jungkook's face appears instantly. He's glowing, smiling as if your existence alone brings him joy.
"Baby... hi." he says, warmth dripping from every syllable. You greet him back, your voice thin and lifeless.
He tilts his head. "Why is your video off? I want to see you, babe."
The word babe feels heavy tonight.
"I'm tired, Jungkook." Just Jungkook. Not Kook. Not kookie. A small shift, but it hits him like a slap.
His smile falters just a little. "You've been overworking, I guess. You barely make time for me anymore, love..." He's trying to joke. It comes out like a complaint.
You feel something snap inside you something raw, wounded, insecure. "I am not." Your voice comes out rough, sharp enough to cut.
He blinks, startled. "...What's wrong?" he asks softly and that softness God, it makes you feel worse. How does he still have so much gentleness left for you when you barely have any for yourself?
"Nothing. I'm just tired. I want to sleep." You rub your forehead, frustrated at yourself, at him, at everything.
"It's late here, Jungkook. Midnight. And you expect me to be... what? All nice and cheerful? I'm tired. Really." You hear the breath he sucks in, the one he takes right before he tries to fix things, right before he apologizes even when he shouldn't.
You don't let him speak. You disconnect and in the sudden silence, you're left with nothing but your own heartbeat hammering in your chest.
Your throat dries. Your chest aches. Then the tears fall slow at first, then uncontrollable. You press your face into your pillow as sob after sob breaks from your lips. Because it isn't his fault. It's yours. You know that. You always know that.
But loving him hurts. Hurts because you feel so small next to him. Hurts because he shines everywhere he goes, while you stand in your own shadow.
------
The moment the call cuts, Jungkook keeps staring at the empty screen as if you might appear again if he waits long enough. You don't. His smile fades completely.
Your voice still echoes in his ears tired, distant, sharp.
You never speak to him like that. Not you. Not his soft girl who calls him Kookie and whines for cuddles.
He sits there for a long moment, phone still in hand, chest painfully tight. You sounded so overwhelmed and he wasn't there to hold you. Wasn't there to kiss your forehead or wrap his arms around you the way you like.
"Maybe she's just exhausted..." he whispers to himself, but the doubt clings to him like a shadow.
------
The next morning, his staff notices immediately. The Jungkook who never messes up a single note suddenly pauses mid-recording. His voice cracks, cracks on a line he has sung a hundred times flawlessly. He clears his throat once. Twice. Tries again. Fails again.
The producer blinks. The sound engineer stares.
Jungkook clenches his jaw, runs his hand through his hair, and tries to focus. But all he hears is your cold, tired voice saying.
"I'm tired, Jungkook."
It hits him right in the chest again.
He picks up the headphones and tries again, but the tone is off too heavy, too emotional, too distracted. He knows it. Everyone knows it.
"Hyung... give me a minute," he mutters, stepping out of the booth. He leans against the wall in the hallway, fingers trembling slightly as he runs them over the screen of his phone, your chat open, your last message still unread by him because you didn't send anything after cutting the call.
Why didn't you stay on the call longer? Why didn't you tell him what was wrong? Was it him? Did he make you feel pressured? Were you slipping away?
He presses his thumb to his eyes, trying to stop the burning sensation. "Don't overthink... she's just tired," he whispers. But his own voice doesn't sound convincing.
------
You rub your temples for the fifteenth time in the last hour, the cursor blinking mockingly at you from your screen. The sketch looks wrong. The proportions feel wrong. Everything feels wrong. Your head is heavy, your shoulders stiff, and your mood somewhere below zero.
Then the door opens softly. Jimin steps in, leaning against the frame with that ridiculous sunshine smile, the one people write love songs about without even realizing it.
"You have been scratching your head like crazy," he says, laughing under his breath as he walks in, placing a cup on your desk. "Here. Before you go bald."
You blink at him. He smells like fresh cotton and warm espresso and god that smile. Beautiful in a way that feels unfair. You wrap your hands around the warm cup, taking a sip. It's exactly the way you like it hot, strong, a little bitter. You didn't tell him your preference. He simply noticed.
"Let me see," he says gently.
You hesitate, then slide your laptop toward him. He pulls up a chair beside you, close enough that you feel his faint cologne drift with him. His fingers brush over the trackpad, analyzing your digital sketch. He leans in, elbow brushing yours.
"You're doing too much shading on this part and this line is fighting for attention," he murmurs, pointing. "Try softening it. You have a good sense of depth, though." You watch him while he works concentration tugging his brows together, lower lip tucked between his teeth. And for the first time today your chest loosens a little.
"See?" he says, adjusting a few elements. "Better."
It is and you didn't even notice the time passing while he was beside you.
------
Later, when the cabin lights feel warmer and your shoulders aren't knotted anymore, Jimin leans back in his chair, stretching a little. "Oh right," he says suddenly, turning to you. "Did you hear? Management finalized the business trip dates."
You pause. You did hear and you had zero intention of going.
A trip meant being around everyone. Pretending you're fine. Pretending you're not falling apart inside. Pretending you're not missing someone who isn't here.
Jimin smiles at you, excited. "You're coming too, right? It'll be good change of atmosphere. New place, new food, fresh air. And I'll be there. We'll make sure it's fun." You stare at him.
He's looking at you with so much warmth. Like he genuinely wants you there. Like your presence matters, not burdens him. Your lips part. Your first instinct is to say no. To hide. To avoid another thing that might drain you.
But Jimin doesn't rush. He just waits, softly, patiently. As if your answer matters more than the trip itself and you suddenly feel something inside you ease, like maybe you could breathe somewhere far from your routine, far from your thoughts, far from the ache you've been carrying for weeks.
So you nod. "Yeah... I'm excited," you lie but the lie feels strangely light. His face brightens instantly, smile widening like a sunrise.
"Good," he says softly. "You deserve a break. You've been tense lately."
-------
The morning air feels lighter than usual, humming with the kind of excitement that doesn't belong to you but surrounds you anyway. Everyone is gathered near the buses, talking, laughing, dragging luggage with the energy of people who desperately need a break.
You stand among them, watching your coworkers chatter about grilling meat, drinking under the stars, blasting music, and maybe even dancing. Someone mentions a short hiking trail into the woods, and another coworker dramatically whispers about bears.
Yuna's horrified expression is so priceless that you can't help but laugh, the sound slipping out of you before you realize it. A soft bump nudges your shoulder.
You turn. It's Jimin.
He's smiling, eyes curved into crescents. "Are you scared of bears?" he asks, teasing lightly.
"Me? Nah." You wave him off confidently.
Jimin snorts. "Right. I'll remember that when you come running behind me screaming." His laugh is warm, bright somehow grounding. The kind that makes you forget, for a moment, that something inside you has been aching for weeks.
You clutch your phone in your hand.
A message from Jungkook sits at the top of your notifications, he'd been telling you about his schedule today, the meetings, the rehearsals, the interviews. He always shared his day with you, always kept you updated, always tried to pull you into the world he lived in and usually you listened and replied with the same softness he gave you. Usually you felt warm reading his texts.
But now something is wrong. Something invisible. Something heavy. You had replied earlier just a short, polite message. He had sent a few more after that. You didn't open them.
You tuck your phone into your bag before the guilt can choke you. You don't want to think about Jungkook right now. Not his smile. Not his voice. Not the feeling of him slipping away or maybe you slipping away.
Not today. You inhale the cool air deeply, letting the buzz of chatter fill your ears. The laughter, the banter, the excitement it all feels far from your heart, but at least it keeps your mind from wandering.
"Hey," Jimin calls you again, nudging you with a gentle elbow. "You good?"
You look up. He's watching you not with suspicion, not with pressure, but with a quiet concern he doesn't voice aloud. You pull a small smile.
"Yeah. Just thinking."
"Don't think too hard," he says, grinning. "It's a trip. We're supposed to relax." Relax.
You let that word settle in your chest. Jungkook has no idea you're on a business trip. You didn't tell him. You don't know why or maybe you do.
Maybe because if he knew he'd worry. He'd get clingy. He'd want updates, calls, moments with you and right now, you don't have the energy to be loved by him. Not when every bit of love reminds you of how much he deserves someone better. Someone stable. Someone confident. Someone who isn't constantly drowning in their own insecurities.
So you push the thought of him out of your mind. Today, you choose to be here. You inhale, exhale and for the first time in a long time, you let yourself breathe without him.
------
The hotel lobby feels like another world, warm golden lights, a towering chandelier, the faint scent of citrus drifting through the air. Your coworkers gasp, laugh, chatter excitedly as they drag their bags across polished floors. You stand among them, watching everything with a quiet amazement you didn't show on your face. The place is beautiful, peaceful. Somewhere far enough from your worries that you might actually feel like yourself for a moment.
"Room keys!" a staff member announces.
Everyone crowds around. You step forward when your name is called, taking the card envelope, then pause when you hear the next name. "Park Jimin."
He steps up beside you, brushing your arm lightly as he reaches for his key. He glances at the number printed on your envelope. "Ah," he smiles, "you're right next to me."
You blink, a little surprised. "Really?"
He holds up his card. "1105. What's yours?"
"1104."
He grins, almost boyish. "Perfect. If you need anything, just knock on my door, okay? Even if it's late."
His tone is casual, light, but something about it warms the cold place in your chest. You follow the group up to your floor, watching everyone trail into their rooms one by one. When you push open your door, the soft glow of the lamps welcomes you. There's a big window overlooking the quiet forest, and the bed looks too comfortable to be real.
You drop your bag, fall onto the mattress, and let out a sigh you didn't know you were holding. It takes only a few minutes for the hallway to fill with echoes of laughter as your coworkers settle in.
Then, a knock.
You open the door halfway. Jimin stands there, leaning lightly against the frame, hands shoved in his pockets.
"You settling in?" he asks.
"Yeah," you nod. "It's nice here."
"Good." His eyes soften. "Just making sure."
He steps back, giving you space. "If you want to explore the garden area before dinner, I'll be in my room." When he leaves, you catch yourself smiling.
------
Outside, the wide grassy open area is strung with fairy lights, glowing warmly in the dark. Long wooden tables are set up around crackling fire pits, and the air smells like grilled meat, spices, and charcoal. You stand with your coworkers, wrapped in the cozy atmosphere. People are laughing around the grill, someone is taking photos, someone else is trying to play music from their phone.
Your CEO stands near the head table, raising a glass. "Enjoy, everyone," he says warmly. "You've all worked hard. So tonight is yours."
Everyone cheers. You look around and despite the noise, despite the drinks and chatter, you feel a sudden emptiness.
The girls are gathered together, taking selfies, teasing each other, gossiping. They look so close. So carefree and for a second God, just a second you miss Minji so much it aches. She would've loved this. She would've dragged you into the photos, into the laughter, into the chaos. She would've told you to stop thinking about Jungkook and eat your damn food.
You swallow the lump in your throat. But before the feeling grows heavy, a hand touches your wrist.
"You okay?" Jimin, again.
He's holding two drinks, offering you one with a gentle smile. "Yeah," you say, taking it. "Just... thinking."
"No thinking on a trip," he scolds lightly. "You're here to relax." He clinks his cup against yours, then takes a sip. You laugh softly because with him, everything feels less complicated.
Later, you both sit by the fire. Jimin grills meat, puts pieces on your plate before you even ask, jokes around with your team, and somehow never drifts far from your side. At some point, someone turns on music. Someone else brings more soju. Soon everyone is loosening up singing, laughing, dancing badly.
You take a drink. Then another.
The heat of the fire warms your skin, the alcohol loosens your muscles, and Jimin's bright laughter melts something tight inside your chest. You find yourself leaning closer to him. Smiling without forcing it. Laughing at things you normally wouldn't. Letting go.
Your head feels lighter. Your heart feels warmer. For the first time in a long time you feel present.
-------
The bus ride back to Seoul feels different than the ride out. The excitement of a new place, the laughter around the fire, the fresh air of the forest, it all feels like a bubble that's about to pop. You sit by the window, watching the scenery blur past, headphones in but barely hearing the music. Your mind drifts to the trip itself the laughter, the late-night conversations, the silly moments with your coworkers. And then... Jimin.
He's sitting across from you now, occasionally glancing your way with a soft smile. The air between you feels lighter, somehow. Comfortable. Safe. The kind of safety you haven't felt in weeks.
"Hey," he says quietly, leaning just a bit closer so you can hear him over the hum of the bus.
You turn to him, curious.
"I... I wanted to tell you something," he starts, fiddling with his hands, voice softer than usual. You freeze. Your heart skips. You don't know what to say, don't even know what you want to say.
He takes a deep breath, finally meeting your eyes. "I like you, Y/n. I've liked you for a while... I didn't say anything before because... well, I didn't want to make things complicated. And I know you're-" he stops, searching for the right words, "you're dealing with a lot right now. But I wanted you to know."
Your chest tightens. Your mind goes blank.
"I... I don't know what to say," you whisper, words barely audible.
He smiles softly, a warmth in his eyes that makes your stomach flutter. "That's fine. Take your time. There's no rush. I just... wanted you to know how I feel."
You look out the window, letting the words sink in. The city lights of Seoul are coming closer, but you still feel like you're suspended somewhere else, somewhere safe.
You think of the past few days, laughing under the fairy lights, sharing drinks, him sitting next to you all night as if nothing else mattered. The little moments, the care he showed, the way he made you forget the tension and insecurities that never left your chest.
And now, knowing that all of it was because of him, because he liked you, it makes your heart ache in a way you didn't expect.
"I... I need to think," you finally say, voice trembling slightly.
"Of course," he says, reaching out and brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "I'll wait. There's no rush. I'm not going anywhere." You glance at him, meeting his gaze, and for the first time in weeks, you feel a little lighter. A little safer. A little hopeful.
------
The moment you step into your apartment, the familiar scent of home doesn't comfort you like it used to. The quiet hum of the refrigerator, the soft sunlight filtering through the curtains, even the faint smell of Jungkook's lingering cologne, it all feels heavy tonight.
Your mind drifts back to the trip. The laughter with your coworkers, the warmth of the fire, the late-night drinks and Jimin. His confession echoes in your thoughts, soft but persistent. I like you, Y/n. The words loop over and over in your head, and your chest tightens at the memory of the way he looked at you honest, gentle, patient.
You sink onto the couch, feeling the weight of your thoughts settle in your shoulders. Your phone buzzes. You glance at it, hoping it's something trivial but it's Jungkook.
"Hey. I have to stay a few more days in LA. More work came up. I'll text you later."
You feel a bitter twist in your chest. You stare at the screen, thumb hovering over the keyboard, but you don't even want to argue or complain. He's living a life so far removed from yours successful, adored, always busy. Always perfect. And you, you're just you. Exhausted, insecure, constantly comparing yourself to a world you feel you'll never belong to.
Your heart twists in quiet anger, frustration, and exhaustion all at once. You type back mechanically, emotionless:
"Okay. Take your time and finish your work. Come back when you can."
You hit send before you can second-guess yourself and then the flood of thoughts.
Why did I ever think I could be enough for him? He's living a better life than me. He's thriving, shining, unstoppable. And I... I can barely keep up with my own life.
Your chest tightens, a lump forming in your throat. Regret gnaws at you. Regret for loving him. Regret for hoping he could ever slow down for you. Regret for everything you can't give him and then the thought hits - maybe after he comes back, I'll just end it.
You close your eyes, leaning back against the couch, feeling the quiet ache of loneliness and longing swirl together.
It's not hatred, not exactly. It's just, exhaustion. A deep, heavy sorrow that comes from loving someone who seems untouchable, untethered, and out of reach. You trace the edge of the couch with your fingers, thinking of Jimin again. Of his laugh. Of the way he stayed close. Of the way he made you feel safe without demanding anything from you.
And for the first time in a long time, you consider maybe there's someone who sees you the way you really are, someone who makes you feel like you matter just by existing.
The sun dips lower outside your window, but you don't move. You just sit there, staring at the floor, letting the weight of your heart and your decisions settle, knowing that when Jungkook comes back nothing will be the same.
-------
The weekend finally comes, and your phone buzzes with a message from Jimin:
"Hey... want to go out tomorrow? Just the two of us. I know you've been stressed lately. Thought it'd be fun."
You stare at the screen for a moment, fingers hovering over the keyboard. A part of you hesitates, your mind flashes to Jungkook, to the guilt of leaving things unsaid, to the secrecy you've been keeping but another part, a part that's been suffocating under the weight of your thoughts wants to escape.
It's just as friends; you tell yourself firmly. Nothing more. Just a night out. A normal evening.
You type back:
"Sure. I'll go."
The next day, you meet him at the little café he suggested, tucked away on a quiet street, far from the buzz of the city. The moment you see him, his warm smile makes the tension in your shoulders ease slightly.
"Hey," he says softly, standing as you approach. His eyes light up like he's seeing you for the first time.
"Hi," you reply, trying to keep your voice steady, though your heart skips.
He opens the door for you like a gentleman, and you notice the little things how he notices when you shiver from the slight chill, how he adjusts his jacket for you, how he slides his chair back for you at the café table.
You laugh at his teasing, light and easy, and for the first time in weeks, the tight coil of worry in your chest loosens.
Jimin treats you like you're the only person in the world listening when you ramble about minor annoyances at work, complimenting your outfit with that soft, genuine smile, even insisting you try a dessert he says is "just too good to miss." You find yourself relaxing.
At one point, he laughs and says, "You know... I've been wanting to do this for a long time." You glance at him, heart beating a little faster, but you play it cool. "Do what?"
"This. Spend time with you. Just us. No work, no stress, no worries," he says, his voice low, steady, and sincere.
You nod, a small smile tugging at your lips. "I... yeah. Me too."
Inside, a part of you can't help but feel the warmth spreading through your chest. And though you keep telling yourself it's just as friends, something in the way he looks at you, the care in his every gesture, feels dangerously close to something more. But for now, you let it be simple. Let yourself enjoy the ease, the laughter, the company, without naming it, without overthinking. Tonight, Jimin's world is yours. And for the first time in weeks, you feel like maybe it's okay to let go.
------
Weeks had passed. Weeks where the world had narrowed down to quiet routines, fleeting moments of normalcy, and the constant presence of Jimin. You had become a ghost in Jungkook's life, texts unanswered, calls ignored, messages left unread. Every time your phone vibrated with his name, a pang of guilt stabbed your chest, but the fear, the uncertainty, the exhaustion of your own feelings kept your fingers from picking it up.
And Jungkook, he had no idea.
No idea where you were. No idea what you were doing. No idea why you were pulling away.
He had tried. Tried to call, to text, to check in but each unanswered attempt twisted something inside him. Each silence made him more restless, more desperate. Weeks of uncertainty had built a storm in him that he couldn't contain.
Finally, he left LA.
The flight back to Seoul was long, silent, and suffocating. He stared out the airplane window for hours, running over every possibility in his mind. Was she upset? Angry? Or... did she just not care anymore?
By the time the plane touched down, Jungkook had made a decision. He would surprise you. See you. Talk to you. Find out for himself.
------
You, meanwhile, are in your apartment, nestled against Jimin on the couch. The glow of the TV flickers across your face as you nibble on snacks, letting yourself sink into the comfort of his presence. You've grown so used to it, his arm around your shoulders, his gentle teasing, his quiet attentiveness, that it almost feels like a sanctuary from the world outside.
Even now, with Jimin's soft hums and occasional kisses to your temple, you never admitted anything. Never told him how important he had become, how his presence had filled a space in your heart you weren't sure anyone else could touch. He's your safe place, your happy pill, your quiet in the chaos. And for a few stolen weeks, he's been enough.
Then, a knock. Sharp, insistent. You freeze, your stomach twisting.
Jimin glances toward the door. "I'll check-"
"No," you murmur, scrambling to your feet. "I'll see."
You open the door and there he is.
Jungkook.
The air catches in your throat. The sight of him, the way he looks at you, the mix of longing and confusion in his eyes knocks the breath from your lungs. Before you can think, before words can form, he steps forward and wraps you in his arms.
"Y/n..." he breathes, tight against you, his hands gripping your arms as if afraid you might vanish.
Your mind races, panic and guilt colliding. You push back gently, voice trembling: "My... my father has come home. You should leave."
Confusion flashes across his face. "No calls, no texts, nothing... this- this is how you greet me?" You swallow, words failing you. The secret of Jimin, the confession, the closeness you've shared, it all presses down on your chest, making it impossible to explain. You only manage a whisper:
"Please... just go." Jungkook studies you, the hurt in his eyes cutting deeper than you expected. But after a long pause, he steps back, the storm in his expression softening into something heavy and restrained. One last look, then he turns and walks away.
You close the door with a trembling hand and sink to the floor, pressing your back against it.
Jimin steps up beside you, his brow furrowed. "Who was it?"
"Delivery boy... wrong apartment," you mutter, forcing a shaky smile.
He doesn't press. He just wraps his arm around you again, pulling you close, letting you sink into him as if he could shield you from everything even the guilt, even the heartbreak, even Jungkook but deep down, you know the storm isn't over.
Reverie — the state of being lost in your own thoughts; a daydream.
Smeraldo — the truth I couldn't tell.
Put them together and you will get my name:
● Imperfectly translates to: my truth which I can't tell is my daydream.
● Quite literal: my daydreams are the truth I don't say out loud.
────୨ৎ────
My Works:
(All headers are and will be hyperlinks)ongoing:
🇨🇴🇲🇮🇳🇬 🇸🇴🇴🇳:
(There will be more)
────୨ৎ────
Like most I am in this constant state of on and off. Not unhealthy but something very wealthy. It feeds me well. My demons inside that crave nothing more than to write more. For you, for all. But foremost my sanity that is kept calm when words flow out. Perfect as I like them. Sultry soft and piping hot as you'll crave them.
I'm not a softie but my words sometimes can be. Here in this blog nothing will be of that sort. I'll write dark, real. Either hot and gripping. This is not only about your guilty pleasure reads. It's about depth you might forget exists in reality.
My work exists hence for. I'll wrap reality with fiction for the best of what I think I can create. What I believe I could try and succeed as we proceed in this journey together.
So if you're soft hearted. Someone who craves comfort and sweet ends. Leave.
You'll find fragments, longer works, poems, thoughts or just anything literary that I feel is literally worth our while.
I'm new here so I'm still trying to figure this platform out. If there's mistakes or something you like or wanna suggest my inbox's available.
"Confess, my love xoxo"
I won't explain or apologize for what I write. As it's pure fiction. And I'm believing you're smart enough to know that no one would intentionally hurt another.
Your suggestions will be welcomed and respected but that won't mean they'll be implemented that is if I don't approve of them.
I am going to try my hand in oneshots as well so feel free to give me any ideas you want to see becoming reality.
I'm a hot med hence I'm busy with my personal life and studies. Updates can be slow but worth your while.
Welcome to my reverie,
Stay if you can handle intensity as I write and learn more by time. Writing stories that'll grip you and suck you in, in no time.
—hquee💋
---
Reblogs keep this reverie alive. Comments and notes tell me that you felt something ⭑.ᐟ
catch of breath, choke, gulp, heave, inhale, pant, puff, snort, wheeze, huff, rasp, sharp intake of air, short of breath, struggle for breath, swallow, winded
in which a late-night study session at Taehyung’s house turns into a harmless guessing game — until the rules start changing.
pairing: friend!Kim Taehyung × OC
word count: approx. 4k
genre: after-hours | dark romance | possessive dynamic | college AU | angst | smut
platform note: written for Tumblr
rating: Explicit (18+ only) MDNI
links: Mega- Masterlist ꨄ After Hours masterlist ꨄ wattpad
Contains: dom!taehyung, innocent!oc, teasing, close proximity, blowjob oral(male receiving), friends-to-lovers tension, making out, manipulation, lies, praises.
Before You Dive In
Like, comment, reblog and share your thoughts <3
⚠️ This chapter contains mature themes and explicit sexual content. If you're underage or sensitive to such material, please read with caution or skip this chapter. The book is rated Mature, and a content warning is also included in the introduction.
"Do we really have to?" she looked at Taehyung skeptically for the guy who rarely shows interest in anything other than stupid cat videos was suddenly too impatient to play this game with her. A game she had never even heard of or played before.
"Yes, yes you do. Must you upset me like this?" Taehyung accused while crossing his arm and glaring down at her who just sighed and played with his tie in her hand. The silk was soft and smooth to her touch. It almost felt like it didn't even belong to her palm for it was far too expensive than let's say her entire watch collection back home.
"What are you thinking? Hurry up-" he snatched the tie from her hand walked around her chair to stand behind her. "Or better yet let me do it for you, hm?"
Knowing Taehyung she only nodded feeling him bend down and wrap his tie around her eyes with a gentleness he didn't seem to have in the moment before. Tying it tightly yet making sure she won't get hurt. Her insides jitter at the sudden press of his soft lips on her forehead as if he was leaving her with danger itself.
"The fuck!"
He chuckled softly at her curse before swatting her thigh lightly over her light grey skirt that sit right above where her knee starts making her jolt. The action almost get off the chair but Taehyung's hands were quick to squeeze her shoulders and make her sit back on.
"Language baby"
She scowled at his words. she wasn't someone who you would tell what to do. "Behave Taehyung. You can't just hurt me when you're the one who begged to play this stupid game."
"Oh yeah?"
Smack.
"Ow!" she mewled in pain as this time the smack was even harder. Hissing softly she rubbed her thigh being mindful of not accidently lifting her skirt and flashing him but also very well aware of how her sensitive skin must be red by now.
Taehyung who was usually the one of the most sorted and sweet guys she's ever met would actually act like this jerky way that even though she knew it's wrong she lets it pass most of the times understanding how it must just be a phase. How he's not entirely like this but sometimes it just so happens that a person can not always be good.
"Taehyung you-"
"I know. I know. I... I'll bring the food items for you to guess, kay?"
He mumbled softly. Grabbing her jaw lightly he skimmed his thumb over her cheek apologetically. Just shy of touching her lips.
She waited obediently on the chair thinking of all the things they did today while in background she heard him gather all the "stuff" for the game.
For a week they both had been diligently working on their college project where they were assigned on as partners. Thankfully tonight was the final one that they completed their project. A week of bouncing from each other's house they could finally have a break.
At first they just chatted and then scrolled through some movie options. But when none picked up their interest? Taehyung came up with this weird game called "guess the object" while searching online. In this game one player is blindfolded and other feeds them a little of anything even if non edible which didn't really make much sense to her.
The way Taehyung went from enthusiastically tossed coin to see who would go first to running around to find something to blindfold her eyes with had her wondering is this game was actually that good. She's never seen him this excited so she decided to play along for once. He too always does every things she says so it didn't feel like much of a problem.
"Here."
She stopped playing with her hair when she heard him huff as he placed a couple of items on the table the used for writing before.
"Let's start easy, kay?"
She hums softly though she swears she heard his voice waver once... in a weird way.
A beat later she whimpered and tried to pull away when she felt something extremely cold against her lips.
"Ice?" she pushed his hand away making the ice cube drop on the marble floor and breaking into small pieces. Her reaction has him in a strange aww making him laugh lightly.
"Yeah. You got it."
She heard him rummage through the objects on the table and walk back towards her.
Taehyung watched her bite her lip in nervousness as to what he might feed her having him shake his head, smiling ear to ear at her behavior. They've been friends for minimum four years yet she always takes her time in finding comfort. And he as always gladly gives her all the time she needs.
"Ready baby?"
"H..mmm, go ahead be gone with it."
This object felt.. oddly soft and sweet scented as she breathes it in in a soft shaky breath. Her reaction has his brows frowning in concentration too. He swipes the light thing slowly across the horizontal partition of her lips like a claw machine's hand waiting to pick up the right toy the moment the user presses it's button.
"Can i taste it?"
"Mh', ofcourse."
Her lips part as she hesitantly takes a very small bite. Sweetness instantly burst in her mouth and she grinned widely. The juice of the fruit spread lightly on her lips and ran down his fingers as he still held it out for her.
"what is it, hm?" he whispers leaning closer to have a a clear view of a sight he has so patiently curated to happen after years of ease and control. "You know you can't win unless you tell me what it is"
"Raspberry." she claimed before sensing his hand still held the rest of the fruit for her making her take a big bite. An apologetic smile when she "accidently" bites on his fingers as well. The blind fold preventing her from understanding how those long digits were oh so deliberately held out for her to bite onto along the little berry in his hands just to feel the warmth of her mouth and feeling of her lips willingly wrapping around his fingers.
The sight had him in awe for moments he was left stunned. There was nothing better he had ever seen. He bit his lip to hold back the groan he almost let out. Almost. When she plucks the berry out his grip with the help of her tongue and left his fingers still in the air. Held out as if for her to bite onto.
"Good girl." her smile softens at his praise. legs squirming without her knowledge as it happens as if he was the one who was blindfolded and couldn't see the effect his voice alone held in this moment over her.
So fucking innocent.
And soon she'll be all his.
He slowly brought his juice and saliva covered fingers to his lips and sucked them cleaning, all the while looking down at her. She looked so pretty in this sweet v-neck crop top in white and that cute little grey skirt. Always has.
"Ready for more?" This time his voice was down right raspy that she caught the sudden change in his tone and way but gave a little nod. Though before he moved away she giggled when he smoothens her light frown with his hand.
"Even over blindfold?" She can't believe she caught her frown over her blindfolded eyes.
"Yeah."
Smack
"Taehyung"
She groaned loudly in irritation when he moved away after smacking her thigh playfully but only bringing her frown back 10x more.
"Let's see if you can guess this one. I'm pretty sure you won't"
She huffed at his challenge and pouts feeling huis breath over her nose. He was too close.
"Let's see." Pushing at his chest lightly so he'll step back but when he didn't? She just gave up and sat without bothering herself with him.
This new object felt weird honestly. It was too hard and smelled literally awful. She wanted him to take this away but he had just challenged her and she can't afford to lose. Hence she parted her lips and took a bite only to whimper feeling the sharp pain in her teeth and the woody husk..
"Ack!"
Taehyung who was observing closely before. His dark eyes raking her lips and face which was full of uncertainty but also determination of winning against him cackles loudly when she whimpered.
"When i told you it can be in edible too then why did you bite so hard knowing it was something you weren't sure of, idiot?"
Despite his amusement he was quick to cup her cheeks and part her lips using his fingers. She whimpered in surprise and try to push him away but he only examined her teeth and lips barely stepping back until he was sure she wasn't hurt.
"Pencil"
"Hm?"
He looks down at her whispering softly.
"I won. It was a pencil."
"My silly girl-"
He couldn't help but coo inside at her words. She was too stubborn for her own good. His eyes darken seeing her so small and.. his chain of thoughts broke when her phone rang. The ringtone breaking the un addressed tension in the room making him unbuttoned a few from his shirt and step back.
"Right. Stay here, I'll fetch it for you."
She nods groaning how she was stuck on this chair once again. Blindfolded. Though this time her mind wandered on how he didn't show any hesitancy or disgust or even anger... just concern when he had checked her mouth for any injury. He really was her very good friend. Sometime she felt blessed to have him around. What would she have done if he hadn't approached her to be friends just second day of college after orientation?
"Baby?"
"Hm?" she looks up feeling his hurried steps advance towards her for she being the honest girl she was still hadn't removed the blindfold for the game was still on. "Who was it?" her palm stretched for him to place her phone in it.
Taehyung sighed shaking her head and grab her hand in his. pulling her off the chair. "It was your brother, baby. He says you have to go some shopping spree and he'll be here to pick you up in an hour."
Him picking up calls for her wasn't new for friends usually did that. She pursed her lips together for she could practically imagine him pouting though he was doing a pretty good job.
"Tae-"
"But that doesn't mean you can't guess the last item."
"Wait!" she exclaimed as he pushed her to her knees. She fidgets uncomfortably on the floor as the marble was too soft yet hard beneath her pale thighs unlike the usual rough grounds she's used to unless like she was now.
Taehyung didn't have much time as he licked his lips thinking of what this was going to do. If he actually did this now then it changes a lot of things between them. She's soft, innocent and easy to manipulate. It won't be an issue to make her understand. Make her crave him like he did for her.
It'd be a lie to say he was as calm as a river when he talked to her brother and realized she won't be here for long. Four years. His four years of yearning, planning and plotting will go to waste if she went home tonight. Untouched. Without tasting what he was ready to give.
He gaze down at her in his house, on his marble floor. He was so pissed. Not at her. Never at his baby. He'd already unzipped his pants with the mango flavored condom packet in his hand. Her favorite.
she flinches when she heard the tear of the wrapper.
"Is it ca... candy? Was it candy wrapper?" She tried to guess early so she wouldn't have to be in the floor anymore as her knees began to hurt. She reckoned why she'd to be on floor for guessing the last item.
"Mmm, baby.... maybe. But that's the trick part." he hums while covering his dick in that pale yellow thin covering. Precum already collecting on his tip for he's too excited for this and needs to hurry up for the given time limit. "This time rather than the flavor... I want you to tell me what it is. And yes.. you remember what happened when you bit the pencil right?"
She hums uncertain as he slowly cupped her jaw angling her face upwards. Thumb coaxing her mouth to part open for him as he skimmed it lightly over jaw like before.
She hesitantly wraps her lips around the foreign object in her mouth. The sight enough to make him whine so he bites his lips to hold back a little more. His girl was finally on her knees with his dick in her mouth. The only imagination he's been having for the past four years from the moment he saw her.
She hums once she tastes strong mango flavor in her mouth. The taste makes her almost smile as she tried to figure out what this is. This was too warm to be an ice cream and too sturdy to be a chocolate that's to be melted away at the temperature. She can't even bite it as she doesn't want to get hurt like before.
Taehyung chuckles to himself. He'd played with the boundaries for that very reason. He can't afford his baby to bite on his dick. His kitten's pink cunt shall be soon drunk off of it.
"That's it, baby" he praised her softly before pushing her mouth abruptly when she parts her lips to breathe in some air.
"Taehy-ack!" She cried oh so beautifully choking on him. His dick is the first and last she'll choke on. He'll make sure.
"What happened, baby?" He groans not hiding where this was going anymore when in panic her her hands raise to push him but she's surprised to feel his thighs. Nails dig in his thigh to push him away. Hot tears stain his silk tie wrapped around her eyes as she realizes what's happening.
"Relax your throat and tongue. Let me in, baby." He slaps her cheek lightly, guiding her because he wasn't going to pull out now that she was finally taking him.
She sniffles trying to relax her throat and breathe through her nose. The mango scent now made her dizzy instead. As an automated response to the fragrance and flavor she salivates. Her tongue flattens allowing his dick to sit on it.
His head thrown back in pleasure as his dick rests softly over his now flat tongue. Her mouth was so warm and small. She cried when he twitches inside her, his tip touching the back of her throat.
"What flavor it is?" He whispers to distract her. He had to - she was crying, confused and sweet on her knees for him. "Hm?" he slaps her cheek again. Harder this time to get her to obey.
"Mang-ah"
The moment her lips form an 'O' he thrusted in.. making her scream. the vibration has him whining and his knees almost wobble but he hold her head tight to stay upright.
"That's right, baby. FUCK!"
"Fuck! suck it. Get all that mango flavor you like, hm?"
She couldn't pull back for his grip on her head was too tight and with no choice she completely gave into his desires. Her little tongue moves softly around him. Her kitty licks felt ticklish and his grip on her hair tighten making her whimper.
Taehyung's hips stutter but he neither thrusted in nor pulled out. Just resting their in her mouth he let her explore him in her own little pace. He was too far gone finally feeling her around him. This was finally happening. Before his hazy eyes land on the clock, making him curse under his breath. They had no time for this.
"A min, baby." Was all he said before he pulled out of her mouth and ripped that condom off of his dick. With a shuddering breath he grips himself and stands between her now parted legs and tilting her face back towards him. Smearing his pre cum on her peeking tongue's tip he groans as she whimpers at the salt on her taste buds before pushing back in her mouth. This time she knew how not to choke.
"Take the tip between your lips and suc-" She obeys him by taking the tip between her lips and sucking it a little too hard for she didn't know it could be sensitive while licking the tip as her lips encircled it. "Easy.. baby do it softer."
This went on a while till he pushed in until all the way till the back of her throat. His tip tapping the constricted muscles at the back of her throat has him groaning. "Fuck, baby! You're the best."
She sniffles at his praises. With her nose buried in his pubic hair, she could barely breathe anymore. Nails scraping his thigh so he'll pull out. But this is this position was already driving him to heaven.
"No!" He growled, swatting her cheek. The second slap followed to relax her hands on his thighs. "Breathe through your mouth, baby."
There was a pause. He knew she wasn't fully understanding.... but her warm mouth was too inviting and he's was already close. Too close.
She gulps not understanding how she can breath if his dick was pressing against the back of her throat. But when it got too much she had to try it. She tried hard and slowly relax her throat muscles to breathe. He looks down at the sight of her jaw opening wider and the way she slowly sucked air in.
Taking the cue he slowly thrusts in those soft warm muscles of her throat. Damn she was tight as she screamed almost immediately when he thrusts in sloppily making his hips stutter for now half his dick was caught between those constricted walls and the vibration of her screams had him almost cumming in that moment itself.
"Open up, baby." He whined out loud. Hands keeping her head in place.
She screamed for long before crying and trying to repeat what she did before. Releasing his dick as her throat muscles are forced to relax. She sniffles and breathes. Then cry even more.
"Baby," he coaxed, gritting his teeth he forced his grip on her hair to relax and patting her head in praise. "You're doing so good for me. Just a little more, hm?"
He whispered looking down at her already wanting to thrust deep in her mouth and have her screaming over his cock. But that'll have to be for another time. She's too innocent for this yet his baby is doing so well. Or was he making her?
"Just let me cum in that pink mouth of yours, baby. Can't you do so little for me?" He grins as he feels her throat relax to accommodate more of him.
"Good girl."
She couldn't keep up as he slowly began thrusting in her mouth. His praises are the only things she heard along with his loud groans and moans that bounced off the large walls and echoing in his room. She'd seen so many workers around his home. The imagination of anyone catching them like this only made her more embarrassed.
Her throat burns when his thrusts fasten and he uses her mouth to his will in a rather rough manner. She whined so he'll slow down but his pace increased as he chased his high. Her jaw hurts and the tie around her eyes was practically drenched in her tears now.
"Fuck, baby"
Taehyung couldn't make words as he grips her head so she won't move. Her pale knees drag slightly on the marble were red by now. He was so close. So close of finally cumming in that pretty pink mouth and painting it white.
"Fuc-a"
He held her head close as his hips thrust one last time before cumming in her mouth with a loud groan. She cried feeling warm liquid filling her mouth and flowing down her throat. She tried hard to push him away when her little mouth couldn't hold it anymore and some of it started dripping down her chin. she needed to spit it out.
"Swallow"
He punctuated the order with another sloppy thrust of hips. Reminding her this could happen all over again if she'd waste even a single seed of his. Having no choice she slowly swallows the salty substance before he finally pulled out her mouth and she took heavy breaths.
Kneeling before her Taehyung grips her chin to examine if she actually took all in. Once satisfied he pecked her lips and pulled her up by her arms.
She hissed softly when pulled to his chest making her wobbly knees ache as she stretches them to stand up on her own.
She weakly pushed at his chest as it's finally over not wanting him to touch her after what happened. She couldn't wrap her head around it while he carefully removed his damp tie from her eyes. She blinks sniffling, trying to adjust to the sharp lights.
"What are you crying about, baby?"
His soft murmur as he wiped her eyes made her push at his chest but his free hand grabbed her by her waist making sure she pressed close to him. "Who are you pushing at? Hm?"
She refused to say anything even when he tilts her face with a rather gentle grip on her chin than the tone he just used with her. He never really shouted even if in such a phase of his was on. Always gentle with her.
"Why did you do that-"
"Did you hate it?"
"H..huh?"
"I asked if you hated it, baby." His eyes darken as they bore into her teary red ones bouncing all over his face like a sweet little lamb. The sight enough to get him hard again. He pecks her lips once again when she doesn't answer. She didn't have to. He knew she didn't understand yet, how even though she didn't feel it but the tension has always been there between them. But she would.
"Until next time. See you at college."
Was all he said pecking her twice more when she grabbed her bag and ran out his room with shaky legs the moment she heard her brother downstairs. Probably asking the workers where she was.
Taehyung's never felt such satisfaction yet longing at the same time. Even after she left he couldn't forget how her thighs had looked when he lifted her ... slick under the light. She had been affected by him. If they had more time, he would have gladly returned the favor. Perhaps never stopping even if she begged him to.
But for now he just adjusted his pants and picked up the bits of the mango condom and discarded it.
A/N:
Was wanting to write for some time, so here’s another oneshot, my babies.
This piece is part of After Hours — a collection of fragments. It’s meant to feel a little unresolved and driven more by tension than comfort.
pairing: Mafia!kth x Rei Himawari oc
word count: approx. 3.5k
genre: after-hours | intimacy | slow burn | explicit later | Dark Romance | Yakuza AU
platform note: originally written for Wattpad
POV: Rei Himawari
Rating: Explicit (18+ only)
links: Mega- Masterlist ꨄ After Hours masterlist ꨄ wattpad
In the yakuza world, a princess is not touched until she is claimed. Rei Himawari was raised untouched, guarded by tradition and blood oath, protected by a rule meant to preserve her until marriage.
Kim Taehyung, her mafia fiancé, was never taught how to wait—only how to take. And when his patience finally wore thin, the rule that once shielded Rei became nothing more than something he chose to break.
Contains: dom mafia king!taehyung, mafia princess!oc ripping clothes, dry humping, fingering, thigh riding, threats, forced sex, noncon, ripping clothes oral(female and male both receiving), manipulation and more.
Before You Dive In
Like, comment, reblog and share your thoughts <3
⚠️ This chapter contains mature themes and explicit sexual content.
If you're underage or sensitive to such material, please read with caution or skip this chapter. The book is rated Mature, and a content warning is also included in the introduction.
Rei's Father's birthday celebration
The hall was adorned in shades of ivory and ruby— dirt and darkness wrapped in an elegance scented wrap. Opaline and polychromatic fabrics draped from the ceiling like silken veils, and the perfume of sweet sake infused in the air. My mother had the idea— multicolored fabrics blending with other having appearance of an opal, with a milky iridescence. The genius of it was how rainbow-like play of color changed with angle of view.
She was indeed the best match for my father. My father is not the most romantic man one could know. Yet he once told me how there was something about my mother's eyes that caught his own when he first met her. Hence, their marriage. Maybe he's too boastful to hide love at first sight under disguise of just mere attraction.
Maidens in pale gowns and ladies in bright traditional kimonos moved like ghosts, delicate and silent. It would be sad if one were to confuse their softness as them being week. While men in dark suits reclined on velvet chairs like wolves fat on power.
The contrast between the purity of the maidens and the corruption of the males at the yakuza's gathering was a deliberate blend of art at its topmost. The kind of scene would be legendary if one were to lift the veil. But one wrong move, one brave pip-squeak with a moral compass, and the place will explode into a bloodshed.
I was walking towards the guest wing to call Aunt Shiron, as father asked. There was no need for me to dress up tonight— tonight was his spotlight not mine. Not that it mattered. Even if I showed up in a rag, people would still stare. They always did.
Their gaze lingered.
Their eyes sought mine, hungry to find the keyhole into my soul. But we Himawaris? We lock our doors tightly. There was no way in..... unless you break them— forcefully. Many have tried, shattering something in the process— their souls.
I was mid-thought, steps soft against the tatami, when a force yanked me sideways. A door slammed behind me as darkness swallowed everything.
My body reacted before I could think. Reflexes of trained muscle memory emerged as I kicked, elbowed and twisted. I used every inch of jujutsu skill I had honed since I was eight. My heel slammed into something followed by a grunt before strong hands twisted mine behind my back.
The scent was different which means it wasn't one of us. Cologne smelt expensive, foreign and dangerous. But who had the audacity to pull this stunt on me?
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" I snarled, breathless. "Do you realize the crime you are— ah!" a large, unmistakably male hand clamped my mouth.
"Sweetheart, you should be careful how you talk to me."
My stomach dropped.
That voice.
NO.
His voice was calm, too calm. The low velvety purr was almost lethal. I could feel his smirk against my cheek before he placed a kiss on the shell of my ear. A featherlight touch, almost gentle.
Almost.
"Mmmm... What a spirit vixen!" I faced the other side as he grunted in my ear after I bit his hand that was clasped on my mouth.
"Ack—!" I twisted hard.
"But you rather not fight back, my Vixen."
He slammed me against the wall, chest to back, pinning me like a werewolf cornering it's prey. I gasped— the air punched out my lungs— his weight crushed into mine.
"Incase you forgot, I'd remind you now, since we have all the time in the world." He murmured, skimming his lips across my cheekbone.
"Myself, Kim Taehyung. The one your father agreed to get you engaged with— Oh.. Shh." I grind my teeth as he licked my unwanted tears.
"I haven't even started or done anything— yet. So don't cry, my vixen."
I wasn't actually scared or sad by the whole ordeal. I knew what he was onto by pinning me in one of the empty guest rooms. No one would come and no one would know even if I were to scream a thousand times. The tears were just a bodily action. Honestly if I could, I'd throw away this useless function. It made me feel weak on a very personal level.
My father never liked tears, he believes they show weakness and a chance for our enemy to feel better and stronger. We've already lost the moment a tear was dropped on the ground.
My heart fell in a pit when his head dropped in the crook of my neck. "You've been running away from me ever since your father accepted my proposal. Why?" His lips moving against my neck made me thrash. I didn't care to consider whether my kicks were hard or where they landed.
I winced when he bit my neck painfully resulting in my tears blurring my vision. My kicks stopping as he trapped my legs against the wall under weight of his knee. What is he? A beast?
Yakuza princess, no matter how high class or respected we were, we were supposed to be pure before being married to another. I couldn't understand what this beast was up to. His proposal was already accepted by father, yet he was torturing me in this manner.
"Hiding behind your family's name and status as if they can save you all the time? This little attitude you have—" He nuzzled his nose against my neck. "This fiery spirit you carry in your eyes— it's cute, really is. But dangerous. You do realize that, don't you? That your father didn't give you away to just a mere businessman from Seoul."
He spun me around and suddenly lights flickered on. It was the first time I've ever been close to this man, Kim Taehyung.
He didn't look bad, quite the opposite. He was a bachelorette who was quite popular and desired among the females of his country. But that was not my issue as ever since he saw me in a business party and our second meeting being his arrival at my house with a wedding proposal made him more unlikeable than he already was for me.
Being born in a yakuza family, I've been through all. I've been kidnapped and nearly killed almost more times than I can remember. Hence, I've developed a serious hate for male presence let alone touch.
"He gave you to a predator, princess. And this beast will love to break your spirit." His dark gaze directly pinning me down.
I won't let him see through me. He's gazing my eyes, trying to find something, just like the rest. But I don't allow such advances to anyone. Rei Himawari is not a doll. "And the same man will slit your throat once he realizes—"
"That he's dead."
"What?"
"You heard me right, princess. Once I tell my people to drop the chandelier under which your father is about to stand and give his birthday speech later in the evening, they will. How fascinating will it be when the thousands of perfectly shaped tear-drop diamonds will cut through his old, wrinkly bod—"
"You wouldn't dare. You really think you have any power in our territory? Its Tokyo, not Seoul—" I thrashed only to for him to tighten his hold on my waist and hold me down.
"And why not? Who will stop me, sweetheart? If I was you, I'd behave.." he whispered in my ear, biting my ear lobe. I whimpered lightly at the sensation, gritting my teeth immediately after when he let out a soft chuckle. If I hadn't been untouched, his advances wouldn't have messed with me as they did now. I hate things I can't control. I hate this.
"There's no way you can—"
He pulled away not giving me much time to think and dialed a number. One hand around my waist and the other held phone up in the air. When the call connected he put the call on speaker.
"Xam, is little Ms. Rico in your hold right now? Is it possible we could hear her? Seems like Ms. Himawari needs a demo of our power before she joins the family."
The moment those words rang in my ear I whipped my head in his direction. He was already flashing one of those boyish grin. The said man chuckled. There was a bit of disoriented noise in the background before we could hear Rico screaming.
"You motherfucker—"
"Nah, nah, nah. That's not how we talk when we are at the weak side, my love." he pinched my chin between his thumb and index, making sure my gaze was pinned on him.
Yakuzas are very particular about their females. Hence, we are always surrounded and protected by our bodyguards since the males are capable of protecting themselves. So, comparatively females have more bodyguards than males. Accidents happen but the chances are less unless you belong the upper chain, like me.
But I couldn't understand how did he even manage to capture Rico. Nevertheless, I shouldn't underestimate him now. If he could kidnap Rico it wasn't a lie he could harm my father as well.
"What do you want?"
"That's more like it. Actually, there's a rule I want you to break." He disconnected the call and threw his phone across the room, switching it off. His hand on my chin, slid down my throat. Going lower and lower, before resting at the sweetheart neckline of my satin gown.
I understood what rule he wanted me to break. It was always the same for women like us. Raised with swords and secrets, trained like warriors— but in the end, sold like property. Our value was bloodline, not backbone.
I stopped fighting. What was the point? I wasn't his wife yet, but that didn't mean I wasn't his. Once a deal was made in our world it was sealed by the word of mouth itself. He was going to have me one way or another. I'd rather save Rico and my father, I had to marry him at the end of the day anyways.
I knew it.
He knew it.
He had me just where he wanted.
His mouth roamed slowly down my throat, tasting the skin just below my jaw. His hand that was over the neckline of my dress, gripped the thin material.
"That's it." He breathed. "Obedience suits you so much, baby."
He thrusted against me, slow and firm— dry humping me through my satin gown like he wasn't going to ruin me for good. I shuddered in disgust, sniffing at the overbearing confusion that clouded my mind. I closed my eyes, no longer feeling anything.
"Still fighting me, aren't you?" his voice sounded too pleased.
"Go on. Hate me all you want. By the end of it we'd be on the best sensation one could ever feel. I'll give you a drug of ecstacy so high, you'd only beg for more. So, yes. Go on. Hate me all you want. I like that."
Rip.
The sound of my dress tearing apart filled the empty room.
Soon my bra and panties dropped beside my dress which pooled around my feet. I closed my eyes, refusing to give him the pleasure he sought.
He slid closer, inhaling my hair before trailing his finger gently down my cheek.
"Just as I thought you'd be—"
"Spread. Hm?" His words were more of a command as he parted my thigs with his knee.
"Ngh~"
I bit my lip to not scream at the sudden intrusion, face pressed into the wall. He knew I was virgin yet he checked, roughly shoving two fingers in while rubbing my clit with his thumb.
His fingers scratched my insides which were barely wet. Although the pressure on my clit gave me a sense of relief, I couldn't feel my breath.
"There, there. Just a little check to see if my cherry's still intact. Can't have someone else pop what's mine, right?"
I sniffled in disgust and slammed my heels. He grunted in pain and stumbled back, clutching his boot— there was a hole with smear of blood. Safe to say I'd done some damage. Usually, I wore broad heels— but Mother insisted on pointed pencil stellatoes today. Had I known this would happen, I would've thanked her.
That's when I looked around and realized— I was in Aunt Shiron's room. Which meant she was downstairs already, the birthday ceremony had probably started. Elders were always needed to open events, so no one would've noticed I was missing. I grabbed my gown from the floor and made a run for it while he was still hunched over, inspecting his foot.
"Agh—"
"And where do you think you're running off to, Bitch?"
He yanked me back by my waist, pressing my body flush against his chest. I opened my mouth to scream, but he shoved to fingers in it— the same one's he'd pushed in me.
"Suck." He murmured in my ear, his voice a threat in itself.
I'd heard in the underworld, most men talked with their dicks. But Alex? He was worse. A strategist and opportunist.
And in that moment, he wasn't just acting on lust. He was after something— control, proof, or maybe just sick satisfaction of owning me.
"Come on, be a good girl and suck. We have a deal, remember?"
I sucked his fingers, soft at first, but he pressed them harder against my tongue. Deeper until I gagged, choking slightly on the pressure.
His hand slid up from my waist, creeping beneath the curve of my breast. At the same time, his knee forcefully parted my thighs apart.
"Now that I know what an ingenue you are," he sneered. "Why don't you ride my thigh? Go on. Please me."
I shut my eyes, burning with humiliation. His fingers moved in and out my mouth while I tried not to cry, saliva pooling and trailing down my chin.
"And maybe I'll spare your little Ms. Rico.. Your father, too— Mr. Akira Himawari." He growled venom.
"Ah" I gasped.
"QUICK!"
He yanked his finger out and smacked my ass cheek. The sudden jerk from his smack shoved me roughly against his thigh. My head fell back at the sensation, landing on his shoulder, while my hips move involuntarily. The coarse fabric of his pants scraping me, with every desperate, humiliating grind of my hip.
"Not bad for a first timer baby~" He praised, looking down at me with his darkness as I scrunched my face, fighting a battle of pain and pleasure.
His head dipped and his mouth closed around my nipple. I froze— earning me another smack, forcing a jolt from my hips. I whined and grinded against him when he pulled at my nipple with his teeth. I hated that sound I made which I never did before. I hated the way he drew out such responses out of me.
My mind couldn't keep up. I could no longer understand what was happening to me. It was like I'd left myself behind was watching the scene unfold from somewhere else in the room. Powerless to stop it.
He fondled my breast with his rough palm like they were stress orbs, making me whimper. When he laughed, I wanted to disappear. Even worse, I felt the fabric of his pants grow damp beneath me— and I couldn't tell if it was a natural body reaction or my humiliating arousal. That confusion terrified me.
Although the fabric, now softened up by my wetness, still chaffed my skin as I grind my hips against his thigh. The ache spread through me so I slowed down my pace, hoping the pain would cease. But his hands moved to my waist, moving me without care, until I straddled his thigh, now facing him.
"Ngh— What the—" My hands instinctively flew to his shoulder, searching for balance. I hated the way he manhandled me.
"Who told you to slow down?" He snarled in my ear. "You aren't even wet enough to take me"
A finger pushed in me without warning, and I gasped . He pulled it out and sucked it clean.
"Hm... now that's a well- maintained lady." He hummed in satisfaction.
I looked at him stunned. Just how shameless was he?
"Get off." He said casually as if I was another whore he'd been spending time with. He pushed me off his lap and striped.
And all I could do was watch— body trembling, I wondered what else he had thought of doing to me. The wetness flowing down my thighs was already humiliating enough. I clenched them together, hating the way my body still throbbed, like it missed his thigh.
Disgusting.
The music blasted from downstairs as the world celebrated my father's birthday. Yet here I was— crawling my way to bed— while he lay on his back, stripped bare and motioned me closer to his face.
"뭘 기다려, 내 불같은 요녀야?" He teased in Korean, hands gripping my thighs.
(“What are you waiting for, my fiery vixen?”)
"아직도 망설여? 내 불같은 요녀가."
(“Still hesitating? My fiery little vixen.”)
"Don't worry" He whispered, smug. "I'll help you with that."
"Ngh~"
I flinched as he made me straddle his face. Writhing helplessly as he dragged me down without my say.
"N-no ... stop, Taehyung."
I gripped the sheets in front of me, knuckles white. His nose pressed to my cunt like he was savoring the scent. His hold was tight on my thighs as he didn't let me move away from his lips. I whimpered— not from want, but from the shame of my body's heat.
"Ah!"
I cried softly as his tongue licked a line through my slit, deliberately avoiding my aching clit. I knew what he was doing— drawing it out to tease, humiliating me. And the worst part? My hips began to twitch. Shame surged me through like fire.
He held my thighs tighter, forcing me to move, to grind. I wanted to disappear. I wanted to hide. Because the moment blurred— I couldn't tell if it was him forcing me or my hips riding his face on my own. By own will.
"Mmm—"
I let out a sound which I couldn't swallow fast enough as he wrapped his lips around my clit and sucked it, hard. His eyes darted up, staring up at me through my thighs, devouring me. I looked away. I couldn't meet that gaze— it wasn't just lust but power. I won't give him the pleasure of thinking he's got to me.
When I stopped making any sound as he continued his ministrations. I saw a flicker of frustration in his eyes. I liked that look in his eyes, feeling victorious.
But then he bit my clit— sharp, cold and humiliating.
"Ack—"
I cried out, and before I could stop it, my body spasmed. I came. Right there. Right on his tongue.
My thighs trembled and my stomach churned. And all I could do was close my eyes as he lapped me clean while humming, like I was some dessert But no one could deny I wasn't special. The untouched and most protected yakuza princess. Here he ate me in exchange of my father's life.
I didn't know what I hated more— his sinful mouth..... or the part of me that let go. I tried to pull away but his grip tightened around my thighs making me gasp from the over stimulation, humiliated all over again.
"Even though I'd love to make you return the favor—" He said as he grabbed my waist and lifted me up, finally letting me catch my breath. His lips shone with the proof of what he's done. What he had claimed. Rei Himawari— the once forbidden fruit, was now devoured by him. I looked away. I couldn't look at him— when he grinned at me with his cold stare piercing through his bangs.
"Don't sigh. We ain't done yet."
He flipped us, positioning himself between my legs.
"Since time's short....... we're gonna speed up instead."
Rip.
I didn't have to open my eyes to know. He was wearing a condom. Ofcourse he was. Even his cruelty was planned and calculated.
Then pain tore through me. A single merciless thrust and I screamed. There was no preparation or warning or pause. Just pure violence. I couldn't breath, feeling the aching burn between my legs. He didn't wait, thrusting immediately, hard and fast.
I dug my nails into the sheets, my palm, his bicep anything to ground myself. I stared at the ceiling so I wouldn't cry.
I closed my eyes in hope it'll all end soon. If I don't move, if I don't show anything that could make him feel better then he'd stop sooner.
He grunted on top, gripping the bed's headboard making it rattle in his hold. Like this wasn't cruelty but pleasure for him. It was like he was trying to claim my body The room filled with my screams of pain and his groans of pleasure.
“Still hesitating, babygirl? What’s stopping you from reblogging, liking, or following?”
This piece appears here as part of After Hours — a collection of fragments, excerpts, and moments written without restraint. This entry is taken from a longer work originally published on Wattpad and shared here as a stand-alone experience. It is intentionally unresolved, deliberately uncomfortable, and driven by power rather than romance.
It ends exactly where it’s meant to.
I’m still learning, still evolving — and this space exists so I can do that without apology. The more I write, the better it gets. If this stayed with you, feel free to leave a request. The original work is ongoing on Wattpad.
what font do u use for your 'dear diary' cursive text thing, I've been trying to look for it for forever (I think its at the end of ur pinned post, and I see it on a bunch of your other ones too). also, if you post this, can you also give recommendations to some other cute fonts??
Okay so, here’s some cute fonts as you requested! Please keep in mind I take all my fonts from dafont.com! The first font, Angelface, is the font I use for my dear diary entries on my blog, as you mentioned <3 for lovey valentine, I forgot the L in lovely so that’s my bad 😭💅🏻
credits to me. feel free to use and save. of course credit would be appreciated but it is not required. I’m just making these for fun <3 | requested by @spngingerbread21 ( if you don’t like these please don’t hesitate to tell me 🫶🏻✨🌸 )
in which a late-night study session at Taehyung’s house turns into a harmless guessing game — until the rules start changing.
pairing: friend!Kim Taehyung × OC
word count: approx. 4k
genre: after-hours | dark romance | possessive dynamic | college AU | angst | smut
platform note: written for Tumblr
rating: Explicit (18+ only) MDNI
links: Mega- Masterlist ꨄ After Hours masterlist ꨄ wattpad
Contains: dom!taehyung, innocent!oc, teasing, close proximity, blowjob oral(male receiving), friends-to-lovers tension, making out, manipulation, lies, praises.
Before You Dive In
Like, comment, reblog and share your thoughts <3
⚠️ This chapter contains mature themes and explicit sexual content. If you're underage or sensitive to such material, please read with caution or skip this chapter. The book is rated Mature, and a content warning is also included in the introduction.
"Do we really have to?" she looked at Taehyung skeptically for the guy who rarely shows interest in anything other than stupid cat videos was suddenly too impatient to play this game with her. A game she had never even heard of or played before.
"Yes, yes you do. Must you upset me like this?" Taehyung accused while crossing his arm and glaring down at her who just sighed and played with his tie in her hand. The silk was soft and smooth to her touch. It almost felt like it didn't even belong to her palm for it was far too expensive than let's say her entire watch collection back home.
"What are you thinking? Hurry up-" he snatched the tie from her hand walked around her chair to stand behind her. "Or better yet let me do it for you, hm?"
Knowing Taehyung she only nodded feeling him bend down and wrap his tie around her eyes with a gentleness he didn't seem to have in the moment before. Tying it tightly yet making sure she won't get hurt. Her insides jitter at the sudden press of his soft lips on her forehead as if he was leaving her with danger itself.
"The fuck!"
He chuckled softly at her curse before swatting her thigh lightly over her light grey skirt that sit right above where her knee starts making her jolt. The action almost get off the chair but Taehyung's hands were quick to squeeze her shoulders and make her sit back on.
"Language baby"
She scowled at his words. she wasn't someone who you would tell what to do. "Behave Taehyung. You can't just hurt me when you're the one who begged to play this stupid game."
"Oh yeah?"
Smack.
"Ow!" she mewled in pain as this time the smack was even harder. Hissing softly she rubbed her thigh being mindful of not accidently lifting her skirt and flashing him but also very well aware of how her sensitive skin must be red by now.
Taehyung who was usually the one of the most sorted and sweet guys she's ever met would actually act like this jerky way that even though she knew it's wrong she lets it pass most of the times understanding how it must just be a phase. How he's not entirely like this but sometimes it just so happens that a person can not always be good.
"Taehyung you-"
"I know. I know. I... I'll bring the food items for you to guess, kay?"
He mumbled softly. Grabbing her jaw lightly he skimmed his thumb over her cheek apologetically. Just shy of touching her lips.
She waited obediently on the chair thinking of all the things they did today while in background she heard him gather all the "stuff" for the game.
For a week they both had been diligently working on their college project where they were assigned on as partners. Thankfully tonight was the final one that they completed their project. A week of bouncing from each other's house they could finally have a break.
At first they just chatted and then scrolled through some movie options. But when none picked up their interest? Taehyung came up with this weird game called "guess the object" while searching online. In this game one player is blindfolded and other feeds them a little of anything even if non edible which didn't really make much sense to her.
The way Taehyung went from enthusiastically tossed coin to see who would go first to running around to find something to blindfold her eyes with had her wondering is this game was actually that good. She's never seen him this excited so she decided to play along for once. He too always does every things she says so it didn't feel like much of a problem.
"Here."
She stopped playing with her hair when she heard him huff as he placed a couple of items on the table the used for writing before.
"Let's start easy, kay?"
She hums softly though she swears she heard his voice waver once... in a weird way.
A beat later she whimpered and tried to pull away when she felt something extremely cold against her lips.
"Ice?" she pushed his hand away making the ice cube drop on the marble floor and breaking into small pieces. Her reaction has him in a strange aww making him laugh lightly.
"Yeah. You got it."
She heard him rummage through the objects on the table and walk back towards her.
Taehyung watched her bite her lip in nervousness as to what he might feed her having him shake his head, smiling ear to ear at her behavior. They've been friends for minimum four years yet she always takes her time in finding comfort. And he as always gladly gives her all the time she needs.
"Ready baby?"
"H..mmm, go ahead be gone with it."
This object felt.. oddly soft and sweet scented as she breathes it in in a soft shaky breath. Her reaction has his brows frowning in concentration too. He swipes the light thing slowly across the horizontal partition of her lips like a claw machine's hand waiting to pick up the right toy the moment the user presses it's button.
"Can i taste it?"
"Mh', ofcourse."
Her lips part as she hesitantly takes a very small bite. Sweetness instantly burst in her mouth and she grinned widely. The juice of the fruit spread lightly on her lips and ran down his fingers as he still held it out for her.
"what is it, hm?" he whispers leaning closer to have a a clear view of a sight he has so patiently curated to happen after years of ease and control. "You know you can't win unless you tell me what it is"
"Raspberry." she claimed before sensing his hand still held the rest of the fruit for her making her take a big bite. An apologetic smile when she "accidently" bites on his fingers as well. The blind fold preventing her from understanding how those long digits were oh so deliberately held out for her to bite onto along the little berry in his hands just to feel the warmth of her mouth and feeling of her lips willingly wrapping around his fingers.
The sight had him in awe for moments he was left stunned. There was nothing better he had ever seen. He bit his lip to hold back the groan he almost let out. Almost. When she plucks the berry out his grip with the help of her tongue and left his fingers still in the air. Held out as if for her to bite onto.
"Good girl." her smile softens at his praise. legs squirming without her knowledge as it happens as if he was the one who was blindfolded and couldn't see the effect his voice alone held in this moment over her.
So fucking innocent.
And soon she'll be all his.
He slowly brought his juice and saliva covered fingers to his lips and sucked them cleaning, all the while looking down at her. She looked so pretty in this sweet v-neck crop top in white and that cute little grey skirt. Always has.
"Ready for more?" This time his voice was down right raspy that she caught the sudden change in his tone and way but gave a little nod. Though before he moved away she giggled when he smoothens her light frown with his hand.
"Even over blindfold?" She can't believe she caught her frown over her blindfolded eyes.
"Yeah."
Smack
"Taehyung"
She groaned loudly in irritation when he moved away after smacking her thigh playfully but only bringing her frown back 10x more.
"Let's see if you can guess this one. I'm pretty sure you won't"
She huffed at his challenge and pouts feeling huis breath over her nose. He was too close.
"Let's see." Pushing at his chest lightly so he'll step back but when he didn't? She just gave up and sat without bothering herself with him.
This new object felt weird honestly. It was too hard and smelled literally awful. She wanted him to take this away but he had just challenged her and she can't afford to lose. Hence she parted her lips and took a bite only to whimper feeling the sharp pain in her teeth and the woody husk..
"Ack!"
Taehyung who was observing closely before. His dark eyes raking her lips and face which was full of uncertainty but also determination of winning against him cackles loudly when she whimpered.
"When i told you it can be in edible too then why did you bite so hard knowing it was something you weren't sure of, idiot?"
Despite his amusement he was quick to cup her cheeks and part her lips using his fingers. She whimpered in surprise and try to push him away but he only examined her teeth and lips barely stepping back until he was sure she wasn't hurt.
"Pencil"
"Hm?"
He looks down at her whispering softly.
"I won. It was a pencil."
"My silly girl-"
He couldn't help but coo inside at her words. She was too stubborn for her own good. His eyes darken seeing her so small and.. his chain of thoughts broke when her phone rang. The ringtone breaking the un addressed tension in the room making him unbuttoned a few from his shirt and step back.
"Right. Stay here, I'll fetch it for you."
She nods groaning how she was stuck on this chair once again. Blindfolded. Though this time her mind wandered on how he didn't show any hesitancy or disgust or even anger... just concern when he had checked her mouth for any injury. He really was her very good friend. Sometime she felt blessed to have him around. What would she have done if he hadn't approached her to be friends just second day of college after orientation?
"Baby?"
"Hm?" she looks up feeling his hurried steps advance towards her for she being the honest girl she was still hadn't removed the blindfold for the game was still on. "Who was it?" her palm stretched for him to place her phone in it.
Taehyung sighed shaking her head and grab her hand in his. pulling her off the chair. "It was your brother, baby. He says you have to go some shopping spree and he'll be here to pick you up in an hour."
Him picking up calls for her wasn't new for friends usually did that. She pursed her lips together for she could practically imagine him pouting though he was doing a pretty good job.
"Tae-"
"But that doesn't mean you can't guess the last item."
"Wait!" she exclaimed as he pushed her to her knees. She fidgets uncomfortably on the floor as the marble was too soft yet hard beneath her pale thighs unlike the usual rough grounds she's used to unless like she was now.
Taehyung didn't have much time as he licked his lips thinking of what this was going to do. If he actually did this now then it changes a lot of things between them. She's soft, innocent and easy to manipulate. It won't be an issue to make her understand. Make her crave him like he did for her.
It'd be a lie to say he was as calm as a river when he talked to her brother and realized she won't be here for long. Four years. His four years of yearning, planning and plotting will go to waste if she went home tonight. Untouched. Without tasting what he was ready to give.
He gaze down at her in his house, on his marble floor. He was so pissed. Not at her. Never at his baby. He'd already unzipped his pants with the mango flavored condom packet in his hand. Her favorite.
she flinches when she heard the tear of the wrapper.
"Is it ca... candy? Was it candy wrapper?" She tried to guess early so she wouldn't have to be in the floor anymore as her knees began to hurt. She reckoned why she'd to be on floor for guessing the last item.
"Mmm, baby.... maybe. But that's the trick part." he hums while covering his dick in that pale yellow thin covering. Precum already collecting on his tip for he's too excited for this and needs to hurry up for the given time limit. "This time rather than the flavor... I want you to tell me what it is. And yes.. you remember what happened when you bit the pencil right?"
She hums uncertain as he slowly cupped her jaw angling her face upwards. Thumb coaxing her mouth to part open for him as he skimmed it lightly over jaw like before.
She hesitantly wraps her lips around the foreign object in her mouth. The sight enough to make him whine so he bites his lips to hold back a little more. His girl was finally on her knees with his dick in her mouth. The only imagination he's been having for the past four years from the moment he saw her.
She hums once she tastes strong mango flavor in her mouth. The taste makes her almost smile as she tried to figure out what this is. This was too warm to be an ice cream and too sturdy to be a chocolate that's to be melted away at the temperature. She can't even bite it as she doesn't want to get hurt like before.
Taehyung chuckles to himself. He'd played with the boundaries for that very reason. He can't afford his baby to bite on his dick. His kitten's pink cunt shall be soon drunk off of it.
"That's it, baby" he praised her softly before pushing her mouth abruptly when she parts her lips to breathe in some air.
"Taehy-ack!" She cried oh so beautifully choking on him. His dick is the first and last she'll choke on. He'll make sure.
"What happened, baby?" He groans not hiding where this was going anymore when in panic her her hands raise to push him but she's surprised to feel his thighs. Nails dig in his thigh to push him away. Hot tears stain his silk tie wrapped around her eyes as she realizes what's happening.
"Relax your throat and tongue. Let me in, baby." He slaps her cheek lightly, guiding her because he wasn't going to pull out now that she was finally taking him.
She sniffles trying to relax her throat and breathe through her nose. The mango scent now made her dizzy instead. As an automated response to the fragrance and flavor she salivates. Her tongue flattens allowing his dick to sit on it.
His head thrown back in pleasure as his dick rests softly over his now flat tongue. Her mouth was so warm and small. She cried when he twitches inside her, his tip touching the back of her throat.
"What flavor it is?" He whispers to distract her. He had to - she was crying, confused and sweet on her knees for him. "Hm?" he slaps her cheek again. Harder this time to get her to obey.
"Mang-ah"
The moment her lips form an 'O' he thrusted in.. making her scream. the vibration has him whining and his knees almost wobble but he hold her head tight to stay upright.
"That's right, baby. FUCK!"
"Fuck! suck it. Get all that mango flavor you like, hm?"
She couldn't pull back for his grip on her head was too tight and with no choice she completely gave into his desires. Her little tongue moves softly around him. Her kitty licks felt ticklish and his grip on her hair tighten making her whimper.
Taehyung's hips stutter but he neither thrusted in nor pulled out. Just resting their in her mouth he let her explore him in her own little pace. He was too far gone finally feeling her around him. This was finally happening. Before his hazy eyes land on the clock, making him curse under his breath. They had no time for this.
"A min, baby." Was all he said before he pulled out of her mouth and ripped that condom off of his dick. With a shuddering breath he grips himself and stands between her now parted legs and tilting her face back towards him. Smearing his pre cum on her peeking tongue's tip he groans as she whimpers at the salt on her taste buds before pushing back in her mouth. This time she knew how not to choke.
"Take the tip between your lips and suc-" She obeys him by taking the tip between her lips and sucking it a little too hard for she didn't know it could be sensitive while licking the tip as her lips encircled it. "Easy.. baby do it softer."
This went on a while till he pushed in until all the way till the back of her throat. His tip tapping the constricted muscles at the back of her throat has him groaning. "Fuck, baby! You're the best."
She sniffles at his praises. With her nose buried in his pubic hair, she could barely breathe anymore. Nails scraping his thigh so he'll pull out. But this is this position was already driving him to heaven.
"No!" He growled, swatting her cheek. The second slap followed to relax her hands on his thighs. "Breathe through your mouth, baby."
There was a pause. He knew she wasn't fully understanding.... but her warm mouth was too inviting and he's was already close. Too close.
She gulps not understanding how she can breath if his dick was pressing against the back of her throat. But when it got too much she had to try it. She tried hard and slowly relax her throat muscles to breathe. He looks down at the sight of her jaw opening wider and the way she slowly sucked air in.
Taking the cue he slowly thrusts in those soft warm muscles of her throat. Damn she was tight as she screamed almost immediately when he thrusts in sloppily making his hips stutter for now half his dick was caught between those constricted walls and the vibration of her screams had him almost cumming in that moment itself.
"Open up, baby." He whined out loud. Hands keeping her head in place.
She screamed for long before crying and trying to repeat what she did before. Releasing his dick as her throat muscles are forced to relax. She sniffles and breathes. Then cry even more.
"Baby," he coaxed, gritting his teeth he forced his grip on her hair to relax and patting her head in praise. "You're doing so good for me. Just a little more, hm?"
He whispered looking down at her already wanting to thrust deep in her mouth and have her screaming over his cock. But that'll have to be for another time. She's too innocent for this yet his baby is doing so well. Or was he making her?
"Just let me cum in that pink mouth of yours, baby. Can't you do so little for me?" He grins as he feels her throat relax to accommodate more of him.
"Good girl."
She couldn't keep up as he slowly began thrusting in her mouth. His praises are the only things she heard along with his loud groans and moans that bounced off the large walls and echoing in his room. She'd seen so many workers around his home. The imagination of anyone catching them like this only made her more embarrassed.
Her throat burns when his thrusts fasten and he uses her mouth to his will in a rather rough manner. She whined so he'll slow down but his pace increased as he chased his high. Her jaw hurts and the tie around her eyes was practically drenched in her tears now.
"Fuck, baby"
Taehyung couldn't make words as he grips her head so she won't move. Her pale knees drag slightly on the marble were red by now. He was so close. So close of finally cumming in that pretty pink mouth and painting it white.
"Fuc-a"
He held her head close as his hips thrust one last time before cumming in her mouth with a loud groan. She cried feeling warm liquid filling her mouth and flowing down her throat. She tried hard to push him away when her little mouth couldn't hold it anymore and some of it started dripping down her chin. she needed to spit it out.
"Swallow"
He punctuated the order with another sloppy thrust of hips. Reminding her this could happen all over again if she'd waste even a single seed of his. Having no choice she slowly swallows the salty substance before he finally pulled out her mouth and she took heavy breaths.
Kneeling before her Taehyung grips her chin to examine if she actually took all in. Once satisfied he pecked her lips and pulled her up by her arms.
She hissed softly when pulled to his chest making her wobbly knees ache as she stretches them to stand up on her own.
She weakly pushed at his chest as it's finally over not wanting him to touch her after what happened. She couldn't wrap her head around it while he carefully removed his damp tie from her eyes. She blinks sniffling, trying to adjust to the sharp lights.
"What are you crying about, baby?"
His soft murmur as he wiped her eyes made her push at his chest but his free hand grabbed her by her waist making sure she pressed close to him. "Who are you pushing at? Hm?"
She refused to say anything even when he tilts her face with a rather gentle grip on her chin than the tone he just used with her. He never really shouted even if in such a phase of his was on. Always gentle with her.
"Why did you do that-"
"Did you hate it?"
"H..huh?"
"I asked if you hated it, baby." His eyes darken as they bore into her teary red ones bouncing all over his face like a sweet little lamb. The sight enough to get him hard again. He pecks her lips once again when she doesn't answer. She didn't have to. He knew she didn't understand yet, how even though she didn't feel it but the tension has always been there between them. But she would.
"Until next time. See you at college."
Was all he said pecking her twice more when she grabbed her bag and ran out his room with shaky legs the moment she heard her brother downstairs. Probably asking the workers where she was.
Taehyung's never felt such satisfaction yet longing at the same time. Even after she left he couldn't forget how her thighs had looked when he lifted her ... slick under the light. She had been affected by him. If they had more time, he would have gladly returned the favor. Perhaps never stopping even if she begged him to.
But for now he just adjusted his pants and picked up the bits of the mango condom and discarded it.
A/N:
Was wanting to write for some time, so here’s another oneshot, my babies.
This piece is part of After Hours — a collection of fragments. It’s meant to feel a little unresolved and driven more by tension than comfort.
pairing: Park Jimin × reader
word count: approx. 1k
genre: after-hours | rain-soaked romance | intimacy | slow burn | yearning | midnight wandering
platform note: originally written for Wattpad
POV: second person (reader)
Rating: Mature
links: Mega- Masterlist ꨄ After Hours masterlist ꨄ wattpad
After a too-formal dinner and awkward oysters, Jimin keeps you walking through empty streets in borrowed moonlight and flickering lamps, tux damp and hand never far from yours.
Teasing turns into touch. Touch turns into confession without words. And at four in the morning—beneath pouring rain and held breath—everything you’ve both been waiting for finally finds its way to the surface.
Sometimes the best part of the night isn’t what was planned.
It’s what happens after.
Before You Dive In
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After Hours - 01
4 A.M. The Best of All
𝒜 𝓂𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓇𝒶𝒾𝓃, 𝒶 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑔𝑒𝓇𝓈.
"I missed you." he said sincerely, following her hot on her tail as she hopped in front of him. Leading them to the street vendor she said had the best hot dogs to offer at one third the price of the restaurant he took her to. The one where the moving oyster shells scared his love.
"Now, did you?" she twirled, giggling a little shy, smiling bright. What a beautiful sight! As they swayed their way down the street, shadows dancing under the flickering lamp lights, shining under the moonlight.
"Why not?" he frowned. He looked down at their attire, a black tuxedo and a white satin slit gown. Definitely not the best outfit to eat out at the street vendor's. But he'd comply with whatever she wants, shaking his head he looked up at her with an arched brow, waiting for her response.
She turned around facing him, walking backwards. Making him walk a bit faster in case she tripped or, worse, fell. Those heels she walked in did look promising for a disastrous fall. She scrolled through her call log.
"Don't see any calls at all," she shrugged in a rather fancy way, showing him the screen. Maybe it came from one of those overly sophisticated ladies who sat beside their table from the fancy restaurant he took her for their first date.
Sigh.
My bad.
Holding her wrist in a rather firm grip, he twirled her and pulled her into him, earning an innocent little gasp.
Open mouth kisses as his way to apologize, his lips covered the map—her skin from neck to behind her ear.
A soft peck on her earlobe.
Holding her gently yet tightening his hold slightly, feeling her wriggle, he knew on her even these simple kisses were too much.
"Did that make up for no calls?" he whispered rather sensually in her ear, biting softly at her earlobe.
She whimpered softly in his hold when he didn't let go instead further tightening his hold. Gulping softly at the whisper that almost felt like it wasn't him talking in her ear but a voice that came out from her own heart.
She nodded in a soft agreement, skin still tingling from the sweet torture a few seconds before.
He swore he could fall deeper every day the way she shied away from him yet craved him all the more.
He sighed, nuzzling his nose in her hair, taking in her soft caramel scent. Ears enjoying the soft music.
No.
Not from a radio, but from her small whines—that was all it was.
Something he could get used to, that was if she gave him the right. That anytime he would meet her eyes in future, his heart would say — mine.
With the wedding band that would sparkle on her heart finger sealing an agreement of the hearts lost in the depths of love.
Leaving her wrist slowly, his arms wrapped around her waist from behind, a soft embrace of love, protection and everything they had which words couldn't describe.
And as if on cue, got on work, the downpour.
Turning around slowly, she tiptoed, her eyes holding unspoken emotions—ones she knew she was incapable of voicing.
She cupped his face in a soft hold, small soft hands and big doe eyes difficult to be kept open under the heavy pour. But she knew that a man so devoted didn't deserve her silence for long.
Raindrops slid down his cheek, mixing with the warmth of her touch. The world blurred into the rhythm of the falling rain and their pounding hearts.
He held her waist tighter, pulling her closer. Her soft body flush against the well-built charmer, whom she had wrapped around her finger. Who waited day and night for a piece of bone from her as if Pavlov's experimental dog.
He could see in her eyes, she tried but the small hesitation was still there in the back of her mind.
He leaned closer.
She had done enough effort on her own, said her eyes. Eyes that pleaded his to cover the rest 'fore she pulled away like all those painful past times.
With a last gaze to make sure she was comfortable, he slowly pressed his lips on hers.
Both sighed in content, a union that took so much time.
Holding her waist tighter he lifted her off her feet, kissing her with passion that he had held back for years.
She returned the fervour with the same intensity, holding his face tighter she let him kiss her to his will.
Taking her soft gasp when he lifted her up as an opportunity, his tongue invaded her sweet cavern for the first time.
She squealed and whimpered in surprise while he groaned in satisfaction. Only he knew how long he had waited for his fantasy to come to life, chuckling softly when he felt her tongue try to move along his.
Stabilizing her by hugging her waist, still keeping her up, he guided her tongue to tangle his in a losing battle for her.
After a while, short on breath, they both pulled away, gazing into each other's eyes, breathing heavily, now all drenched under the rain.
Her cheeks flushed, lips parted and eyes wide, clearly in pure shock from the way things happened. She held his shoulder tightly in order not to fall, though the way he hoisted her up against him with ease told her not to worry otherwise.
His gaze, though dark and intense, held the tenderness she had always seen—the gentle and careful way he had always been with her. She blinked when he put a loose strand behind her ear in a tender way.
"If this is how you'll make me atone for not calling you enough, I might as well stop calling you altogether," he muttered in a low, gravelly voice.
She slapped his bicep softly in a playful manner, his eyes glinting with amusement. Giggling, both of them shook their heads.
Putting her down, he held her hand in a soft grip, looking down at her. She smiled shyly, meeting his now soft gaze. Knowing she loved the rain, he let her lead him at her own pace.
