fatal attraction⎜05 (m.)
→ pairing: reader x jungkook (feat. taehyung)
→ genre: serial killer au, smut, angst
→ word count: 8.5k
Your dangerous ex-boyfriend comes back to haunt you in more ways than one.
→ warnings: unprotected sex, defloration, mentions of drug abuse, mentions of death and murder, major character death
→ disclaimer: myself and this fic does NOT condone the act of killing or the romanticisation of those who kill. if themes of violence, killing and/or stalking are triggering to you, please do NOT read this fic.
→ author’s note: this update would not have happened without @kookingtae credit for my sanity goes to her.
↳ series m.list | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | ongoing
Three years, eight months ago
Despite the fact you were on your way to losing your virginity, you were seemingly more nervous to visit the Jeon residence for the first time. Jungkook drove in silence, leaving you to your thoughts. It was late, almost 10 pm. Would his parents still be up? Would you finally be able to meet them? Or would Jungkook sneak you in through the backdoor? Your thoughts settled on the fact that meeting a guy's parents for the first time and then fucking him for the first time moments later wouldn't be an ideal or realistic situation. You were sure Jungkook would avoid it.
You couldn't help but think why you had chosen tonight to be the night. You hadn't planned it but you had been thinking about it for a while. Maybe, having a banana milkshake that night instead of your regular strawberry had you thinking differently in all sorts of ways. After your first date in that motel room months ago and a few subtle instances of him shrugging you off, you were almost too scared to make the first move. Your confidence was weak. You wanted to have sex and you knew he did too but his self-control was strong. You didn't know what was different for him now, especially to suddenly confess he would die and kill for you. Maybe, ultimately, he simply had had enough abstaining.
You knew Jungkook came from money but you never expected his family home to be the most lavish villa you had ever seen. He snuck you around the back as you had expected but it was the quickest route to his bedroom—which was downstairs and attached to a young man cave. He had held your hand the entire way, squeezing it for comfort. But surprisingly, you didn't need him to—you weren't nervous or scared. Maybe, you should have been.
His bedroom was not what you had imagined. It was tidy, close to spotless. Framed pictures and trophies decorated his walls and shelves. It was well lit, despite it essentially being a basement. It goes without saying you waltzed straight over to the pictures.
"You want candles or something?"
You had picked up a frame, it was a picture of Jungkook and Namjoon as toddlers—perched on their father's lap. His father was in a suit and aviators, holding a fat cigar between the fingers of the hand wrapped around Jungkook. Setting the picture down, you chuckled to yourself thinking about how much he looked like a mob boss.
"Sure," you answered him.
He nodded before disappearing into his ensuite. You picked up another picture of Jungkook, he was little older than he was in the first picture, this time—kissing his mother. He was the cutest kid you had ever seen. You had to hold in a squeal.
"I could only find one," Jungkook announced, walking back into the room. "But it's scented so I hope that makes up for it."
It was incredibly sweet he was trying to create a romantic atmosphere—it was always the thought that counted. You smiled softly and he smiled back. You watched while he reached into his back pocket to grab his zippo and lit the wick with ease. After setting the candle on top of his dresser, he stood there staring at the flame.
"What scent?" you asked, strolling closer.
"Vanilla."
You nodded. There was a silence. What now? He seemed to be content just standing where he was. Was he having second thoughts? You were suddenly nervous and it made your palms sweat. Were you supposed to just... pounce on him? Why could he never make things easy for you? You looked over your shoulder, back to the pictures you were admiring.
"You were an adorable kid," you grinned. "I'm almost mad you didn't show me pictures before."
He chuckled, finally turning to face you. "You do know that's the mother's job, right?"
"Yeah, if I ever meet her," you mumbled unintentionally. You didn't want an argument but the words just fell from your lips before you had a chance to stop them.
His shoulders slumped. "Princess—"
"It seems like you have a really special relationship with her. I can tell by the pictures... it's lovely," you interrupted him.
"I'd rather not talk about my mom when I'm about to fuck my girlfriend."
Your eyes bulged. "Right, I'm sorry."
"Don't be sorry," he sniggered, grabbing the back of your neck to pull you closer. He looked deep into your eyes, your pupils, your soul. "Have you done this before?"
"Yes," you lied shakily and you don't know why you did.
He raised an eyebrow at you. You had to avoid eye contact—anything for him not to see how fucking nervous you had become. He lifted your chin to look at him, denying you to hide.
"Ok," he replied sympathetically, knowingly. It was as if he heard your answer as no—as if he knew your answer should have been no.
When he kissed you, your nerves melted away. It was tender and slow and it felt like he was kissing you for the first time—the butterflies in the pit of your stomach made you feel like you were kissing him for the first time. In a waltz, he led you back towards the bed until your calves hit the end of it. Although, he didn't push you down as you had expected. He kept kissing you, passionately, running his hands all over your body but always returning to grip your neck. At one point you moaned into his mouth and he growled back at you. You didn't know if it was a virgin thing, or if it was just him, but you were already feeling wetness pool in your panties.
Lust and excitement took over and you tugged at his shirt—a silent plea for him to take it off. He obeyed and as he did so, so did you. His eyes roamed over your body in admiration and it gave you the confidence to slowly remove your bra. There was a fire in his eyes as his rough palms caressed your soft bare skin.
"So beautiful," he murmured before attacking your lips again.
Once you fell back onto the bed, Jungkook began slowly kissing every inch of you. He left a trail of wet pecks from your lips down to your cheek and neck—sucking until he found your sweet spot and earned a moan. You had never felt so turned on and he hadn't even properly touched you yet. You wrapped your legs around his waist, grinding against him as he moved his kisses down to your breasts.
"I've been dreaming about these for months," he growled before taking a nipple into his mouth and sucking softly.
You keened, arching your back and lifting your chest into his face. He responded by switching nipples, licking and nibbling while his large hand cupped the other breast. Suddenly, he retracted from you, sitting up to tend your jeans. He popped the button undone before slowly shimming them down your legs and chucking them over his shoulder. Next were your panties and it made your heart race in anticipation. He fiddled with the flimsy straps before you eventually lifted yourself for him to pull down the lace and discard them with your jeans.
You were completely bare for him. His lust-crazed eyes drank in your figure as you laid there, hair fanned out across the bedspread in the shape of a halo, your cheeks tinged pink and your thighs clasped together. With his palms on your knees, Jungkook attempted to spread your thighs apart but found you resistant. He tried again, but you wouldn't budge. You trusted him, you wanted this but you couldn't help it, it was like a reflex. He sighed and rested his chin on your knees, sliding his hands down to cup the top of your thighs.
"Princess, if you're not ready, we don't have to."
You shook your head. "No, I want to!"
He cocked an eyebrow. "Are you sure?"
"I just... I wanna be on top," you explained. "I want to control it."
You swore you saw Jungkook shiver.
"Fucking hell, you're so sexy," he exclaimed. "And I can just smell how wet you are."
"Oh, Jesus!" you cried, your hands flying up to cover your face in embarrassment.
Jungkook leaned down to pull your palms away. "And it's more delicious than the vanilla."
He gave you another kiss before climbing off of you to take off this pants. You sat up to watch as he shamelessly pulled down his underwear—his hard cock springing free. It was bigger than you had imagined, girthier. It was beautiful and you unintentionally squeezed your legs together. You were sure your eyes were the size of saucers as you began to worry how that could possibly fit inside of you.
"Lay down," you ordered after clearing your throat.
He sniggered and he what he was told, climbing onto the bed and lying down with his head propped up against the headboard. You crawled over to him, hovering over his body the same way he did to you moments ago. He was so much bigger than you, longer—you had to straddle his lower stomach in order to reach his lips.
After a few kisses, he looked up at you with wonder—eyes then flicking down to your drenched core against his lower abdomen. He smirked before mumbling against your lips, "I can feel how wet you are for me."
You groaned back into his mouth—automatically grinding your wetness against his navel. He reached into his nightstand, pulling out a small foil packet. You used his chest to push yourself up to watch him rip the packet open with his teeth. Your eyebrows furrowed before taking the slimy rubber off of him.
He frowned. "Wait, I always wear one," he protested.
You shook your head. "Not with me," you murmured.
A devilish smirk spread across his face before he shot up to kiss you, quick to push his tongue into your mouth. You chucked the unused condom over your shoulder and wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him back fervently. He tried flipping you over but you counteracted, shoving his chest and making him flop back down. You hovered over him, his cock hard and leaking and it enticed you to settle yourself on it. You had no idea what you were doing and his tip missed your entrance, sliding up towards your clit. He sighed at the small contact and boosted your confidence. Soon, found your hips moving—your slick pussy sliding up and down his shaft. You moaned at the ceiling, enjoying the friction of his warm hardness.
You didn't get to enjoy it for long because the next thing you knew, you were on your back. Jungkook loomed over you, propping your legs open and steering his cock towards your entrance. You held your breath.
He pushed into you slowly, leaning over you to watch your reactions. You could tell he was being careful not to hurt you but it was impossible to ignore the strong burning. Your face contorted at the stretch and he froze. He kissed you softly as if to try to kiss the pain away. You giggled, stroking his clammy face.
"Keep going," you whispered.
He nodded, thrusting inside you all the way and releasing a sigh of relief. You felt so incredibly full, you couldn't describe the physical feeling in any other way. But having Jungkook inside you, apart of you, finally, made you feel so overwhelming content. You had each other completely, mind, body and soul.
When he gradually began pumping into you, little whimpers escaped your mouth. He seemed to inhale the sounds, his heavy breathing fanning over your face with your foreheads pressed together. While he focused on keeping a steady pace, you focused in on his face—the pure pained restraint and pleasure clear as day in his expressions.
"You ok?" he grunted, careful not to thrust particularly hard.
You nodded and he kissed you before sitting up and adjusting the position of your hips. This way you both watched as his length worked in and out of you, appearing slicker and wetter the longer he fucked you. You almost couldn't peel your eyes away, heart racing and cheeks flushing at the fact such a filthy sight was turning you on to the point of no return. The pain had almost completely subsided and you threw your head back, whimpering and moaning shamelessly.
Jungkook's grip on your hips became tighter. His thrusts gradually became faster and harder. You clawed at his forearms when his pace turned into a pounding, the bedposts banging against the walls. His tip was constantly hitting your sweet spot and it forced your eyes to roll back. The pleasure was like nothing you had ever experienced, your own fingers couldn't even come close to compare. Your moaning increased into screaming as the coil in the pit of your stomach pulled so incredibly taut you thought you might explode.
"Oh my god, Jungkook!" you squealed, whining and wriggling.
Sensing you were close to your end, Jungkook smirked and bent your legs to push them against your chest. He pounded you into the mattress, snaking a hand between your thighs to rub your clit. The coil snapped and you came with a scream. Your body jerked against Jungkook but he managed to control your body enough to keep ramming your convulsing hole. You were squeezing him so perfectly, he couldn't sense or foresee how close his own end was.
"____, fuck, you feel so fucking good," he rasped, "Oh, fuck!"
Suddenly, you felt empty and you let out a deflated sigh. Long spurts of cum splattered all over your stomach and chest. Jungkook hissed and growled and then yanked at his almost softening cock to shoot the rest of his load around your belly button. In a post-orgasm haze, you tapped at the pools of milky liquid and rubbed the substance between your two fingers. Jungkook watched you intensely as you popped a finger into your mouth to taste and giggled.
He chuckled to mask the chill that went down his spine before fishing off his bed for something to clean you up with. It was the black tee he was wearing that day and he had no hesitations to use it to wipe his cum off of you. Quickly after that, you both got under the covers and laid there silently, feeling completely satisfied and euphoric. You had finally done it. You had sex with Jungkook and it was everything you had wished it to be.
"I swear I last longer than that," Jungkook broke the silence after clearing his throat.
In the moment, you hadn't noticed but on second thought, it was quite fast. You hoped he wouldn't be too hard on himself because for you it was perfect. You were satisfied and for your first time, you didn't think you'd be able to go on that much longer.
You giggled, rolling over to drape your arms around his neck. "It's because I'm better than them," you teased.
He chuckled back. "Yeah, you are."
He leaned in for a big kiss, lazy and sloppy. When he broke away, he dived under the sheets and tried his utmost to settled himself between your thighs. You fought him off and then lifted the covers to confront him.
"What are you doing?!" you squealed.
He looked up at you with a smirk. "I'm taking care of you," he answered, finally wedging himself between your thighs.
He gave your clit a little kitten lick and you squealed, "JUNGKOOK, NO!"
He chuckled evilly before continuing to softly lap at your folds. You were so sensitive from your orgasm it was near torture and you tried to kick at him to stop. He held your legs down and licked a little softer. It tickled like crazy and you kicked and screamed and laughed like a maniac.
"Jungkook, please, please," you begged him as you wrestled through the sheets.
He stopped almost immediately and you tried so hard to straighten out the sheets to find him but to no avail. Instead, he yanked you under, attacking you with kisses until you were snorting from laughter.
Night after night, those sheets compassed you and Jungkook in your own little world of safety and comfort and pleasure—not even the red wine you spilt the week after was enough to tarnish those sheets.
*
Staring at the same red wine stain no longer gave you the feeling of safety and comfort and pleasure. You felt dirty staring at it, crumpled in the middle of the mattress. You were trying to be strong but felt so undeniably pathetic letting something as simple as a stain on a sheet weaken you. It was an awful feeling and it had you wholeheartedly doubting your ability to do what you had to do, what you came there to do—face him.
The shower was running. You could still leave and he'd never know you were there. You could run out of the room right that second and erase the possible encounter from your memory. That would be the easy thing to do, what you had been doing the last three years.
He turned the shower off. And despite the overwhelming sense of dread and anxiousness and panic that brewed at the pity of your stomach, you stood your ground. Three years of the easy way out was quite enough and your decision to stay gave you a strong sense of empowerment. You could do this.
When he walked into his bedroom, his eyes doubled in size seeing you waiting for him. You tried your best not to mirror his expression. He was half dressed. Water droplets from his hair cascaded down his neck. You didn't know if you could do this.
“____, I really didn't expect you here.”
You didn't expect to be there either. You got up early, careful not to wake the sleeping boys scattered around your bedroom floor. You didn't even take a shower. You were almost certain residue from last night’s makeup was on your face. You didn’t even realise the sweatshirt you chucked on was massive on you and Jungkook’s—which earned a questionable look from him. To say you didn’t think this through was the understatement of the century.
You weren’t in your right mind when you stole Taehyung’s car and drove yourself to a murderer’s house. After reading and attempting to process Jungkook’s text, you felt the overwhelming need to take matters into your own hands—to somehow try to fix it and to ultimately try to save your friends. As much as it panicked you to admit and accept—he still loved you and you could play that to your advantage.
However seeing him in such close proximity, shirtless, tattoos on full display, black and coloured, obnoxiously covering the majority of his skin, had you weak in the knees. It was fear that had you trembling—the fear of him and the fear of old feelings. You tried the utmost to avert your eyes, denying yourself to feel the attraction you still harboured towards him. Your hands shook as you mentally reprimanded yourself for not feeling completely disgusted by the sight of him. The fear quickly turned into anger.
“Neither did I,” you forced through gritted teeth.
Jungkook paced over to his dresser but instead of grabbing a shirt he picked up his pack of cigarettes and lit one. You watched him and tried not to watch him at the same time, hugging yourself—unsure whether to take a seat or stand. He took a long drag, staring at you brazenly while your eyes darted around the room.
"You're upset," Jungkook stated.
"You upset me."
Upset, angry, awkward, uncomfortable—he made you feel all of them.
“I’ve missed you, I missed you every day,” he chuckled as if he felt ridiculous for saying it. "Although, you already know that from my unanswered letters. I guess I deserved it for not being honest with you. You've proved your point, it doesn't feel good to be left in the dark."
He was speaking with you so civilly that it shocked you into silence. He was acting as if the events of the night before never happened. Your sight finally landed on him, determined to try to understand how he could be anything other than as hostile as he was less than 24 hours ago. Surely, your surprise visit wasn't enough to sway his bad intentions.
“I didn’t get your letters,” you stated matter-of-factly, “until just recently.”
Jungkook’s shoulders slumped at the information. “Oh,” he replied dejectedly, “did you read them?”
You narrowed your eyes at him. What was he playing at? It was like he still cared—like he still had feelings other than resent and anger and a deranged obsession with you. You would have taken pity on him if he hadn’t threatened to kill all of your friends the night before.
“No,” you lied out of spite.
He sighed. “I guess there are some things we need to talk about, then.”
He was attempting to reconcile... as if the whole thing was just a small miscommunication. You couldn't believe his audacity. He was delusional to think there was anything to redeem between the two of you. You weren't having it. You wouldn't let him indulge in the hope.
“I'm not here to talk about us, Jungkook,” you told him harshly.
He gave you a look as if to say he didn’t believe you. “Then why are you here?”
You looked back at him incredulously. “Why the fuck do you think I’m here?”
He cocked an eyebrow at the bed presumptuously. “You haven’t asked me to put a shirt on,” he added.
You could have punched him. “Put a shirt on,” you ordered flatly, barely controlling your rage.
He raised his hands up in surrender, sticking his cigarette in his mouth so he had both hands to rummage through his drawers. You instinctively exhaled in relief when he found a black tee and rolled it down his abdomen.
“Listen, I'm here because I want you to stay away from my friends," you revealed, approaching him with false bravery.
He kept his back towards you. “I haven’t seen you in three years and that’s all you have to say to me?”
“You fucking threatened to kill them.”
"I'm not going to kill them," he chuckled mockingly.
Your eyebrows knitted together. Your brain throbbed in confusion. He still wouldn't turn around to face you, as if your presence was now a burden and unwanted. Once upon a time, you would have yanked him by his shoulder and maybe even slapped him for his mocking tone. The fact you couldn't do it, the fact you were too scared to, only fueled your frustration.
"And I'm just supposed to believe that," you called him out, "after the stunt you pulled last night?"
"Yes," he answered, aggressively putting out his cigarette in the tray on his dresser.
"You're fucking insane," you scoffed, rubbing your temples.
Jungkook's shoulder's stiffened. You struck the right chord. In a flash, he turned to step into your face and screamed, “I’M NOT GOING TO KILL YOUR FRIENDS, ____.”
You should have cowered at his outburst, it made sense to. But instead, you screamed right back. “THEN WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU THREATENED TO?!”
Jungkook sighed shakily through his rage. “You didn’t read my letters,” he almost explained to himself before turning back around to slam a drawer shut.
You flinched at the bang. You had no idea what he was on about but you refused to reveal you had read them. You wouldn't give him that satisfaction. Although, it did have you pondering whether he did explain some aspects of his actions in those letters apart from the one letter explaining he was his father’s personal hitman. You didn't remember anything noteworthy in regards to why he would subject himself to such a role and what that role entailed—but then again, you hadn't read them all. Regardless, that didn't matter. All that mattered was that you were talking to a deranged killer and that killer had your friends on his hit list. All that mattered was their safety and you had to ensure it.
"You kill people, Jungkook. You killed someone in front of me," you managed to choke out. "You can't blame me for not believing your threats are empty."
"They're not when it comes to business," he answered plainly. "This was personal so I take it back. Happy? You can leave now."
"That's not fair," you squeaked.
"What's not fair, ___, hm?" he mocked, "You came here to save your friends. You did that and now, you can go!"
You knew you shouldn't have let him get to you but he just did. This was the part where you would kiss him silly, reassure him it was just a stupid fight and you adored him too much waste a moment angry. You felt bad. You could still feel how much he cared for you. You could feel how disappointed he was that he didn't feel that care back—manipulation at its finest.
“It wasn’t easy for me, you know,” you called after him as he walked away from you and sat on his bed with his back turned, “I’m sure you think so. I’m sure you think I’m one heartless bitch but what was I supposed to do, Jungkook?”
Your question lingered in the air. You stared holes into his back while he sat there, silent, with his head in his hands. When he finally lifted his head, he looked over his shoulder towards you. Your heart raced, forgetting how gorgeous his side profile was—you could have screamed.
“Talk to me,” he replied.
You really could have screamed.
“Do you have any fucking clue how scared I was of you? How scared I still am?” your voice wavered. “You murder people as a job. Not to mention you lied to me about it.”
“You know that’s not who I am,” he murmured, “You know me.”
“No, I don’t," you shook your head. "The boy I knew and fell in love with didn't kill people for his father's drug cartel. And I won't apologise for turning you in but I am sorry it had to be that way."
He scoffed. “Why do you have to remind me?”
“I think we’ve both done enough pretending, Jungkook,” you said softly.
“Why do you have to remind me,” he repeated, disregarding that you spoke, “that you betrayed me and that I should fucking hate you but—”
“Don't—”
He chuckled at the ceiling. "Enough pretending, huh?"
Your heart ached for him and how badly you wanted to somehow fix him. It was a toxic feeling and you wished you had recognised it as such the first time you felt it—all those years ago in that motel room. You wanted nothing more but to cower away but you stood your ground and said the bravest thing you had ever said in your life.
"I was so in love with you, Jungkook," you croaked unintentionally. "I couldn't sleep for weeks with your voice in my head, screaming to see me one last time and when I could sleep, I cried myself to sleep for months, fucking missing you and feeling so goddamn guilty!"
You didn't realise how distraught you were until your vision went blurry from the tears. Jungkook approached you slowly but stopped once he noticed you backing away at the same pace. You would have had a panic attack if he got any closer.
"I was so in love with you," you repeated through your sobs, "and you made me hate myself for it! You made me feel like there was something wrong with me! You do the most despicable, repulsive, most horrendous things a human being could do—you kill—and I loved you so much it hurt."
"____—"
"You put me in that position," you interrupted him with accusations. "You fucked with my head and my entire life. You ruined me. "
"We ruined each other," he retorted.
"I guess we did," you sniffled, trying to wipe and dry your face with your sleeve.
"I'm sorry," he said with complete sincerity—you could see it in his eyes.
You nodded and tucked your hair behind your ears so the strands wouldn't stick to your wet cheeks. "I don't think I have or will ever get over you, but I have to," you admitted. "Goodbye, Jungkook."
As you turned your back on him, a weight lifted off of your shoulders—you felt almost as if you were floating. This was it. You said your piece. You got your closure. Now, you could move on—or so you thought.
"____," he called softly, "you can still be with me. I would never hurt you."
The weight returned, heavy as ever. Your stomach sank. The desperation in his voice so crystal clear, so raw it could never be unheard or forgotten—something new to haunt you. Neither of you were pretending anymore. You were both being utterly vulnerable and it was petrifying. But, you had said your piece and you had to stand by it.
"It's not me I'm worried about," you uttered before desperately continuing to make your leave.
"You're with him, aren't you?" he muttered under his breath and it stopped you in your tracks. "Taeyang... Taehyung."
You looked over your shoulder at him and you wished you didn't. The fire in his eyes was raging and terrifying, almost demonic. You felt frozen in place as if his gaze turned you to stone. He always had the worst temper especially when it was brewed from jealousy. You knew this but you couldn't find the words to reassure him, you couldn't even find the words to lie.
You swore you heard him growl when you swiftly escaped out the door and slammed it behind you. You didn't realise you were holding your breath until a loud bang emitted and caused you to gasp. The second bang shook the closed door and was followed by deafening crashes. Every bang and crash vibrated through you, paralysing you. Your memories of Jungkook thrashing around in that interrogation flooded your thoughts, evoking utter trauma and sadness to the point of your knees almost buckling beneath you.
"God fucking dammit, Jungkook! Don't destroy everything, for fucks sakes! I want those pictures of Mom—"
Namjoon halted his march when he saw you frozen in front of his brother's bedroom door. You wished you had the strength to slip away as soon as you heard him coming. Yet, your legs betrayed you and here you were, face to face with the person who started this nightmare.
"____, what a pleasant surprise!"
Somehow his radiance of arrogance and terribly masked hostility made you roll your eyes and shocked your body into movement. You pushed past him, ignoring his calls for you and didn't look back until you were in the safety of Taehyung's Aston Martin. Your hands were shaking against the steering wheel so you took a minute before driving off. Jungkook's eyes, the way that his stare bored into your soul, full of contempt and heartbreak and clear envy towards the boy who owned the car you were sitting in, haunted you. You just couldn't respond at the accusation he fired at you—his words now playing in your head over and over like a broken record. And as you sped onto the road you realised you said nothing, not one word because... you didn't know yourself.
*
"Hey, are you all wrinkly and gross yet?"
"Like a 90-year-old woman!"
You heard Taehyung chuckle from the other side of the bathroom door. The deep rumbling sound comforted you, confirming he hadn't heard the rasp and crackle in your own voice from crying. You had been crying for the last two hours while your naked body soaked in steaming hot water. The water now lukewarm, you had just managed to control your sobs and put on a brave voice for the boy who was checking up on you. The boy who would always check up on you, in the worst moments like he had a sixth sense for when you were upset. God, how you wished you'd fucking stop burdening him with your bullshit.
"So," he began, softly thumping his forehead against the bathroom door, "you went to see him?"
You went silent. You weren't ready for the grilling that would follow a response. All Taehyung could hear was water sloshing and he sighed.
"I understand why you did it," he continued, "but I just wish you would have told one of us."
"You would have stopped me."
This time, it was his turn to be silent. You heard him sigh again and then slide down the door to sit. As much as you normally wouldn't want to have this conversation—words flowed out of your mouth.
"I had to, Taehyung," you explained, "I couldn't let him come after you, any of you."
"I know, darling," he huffed.
Darling. That was new. But surprisingly, it didn't send your thoughts spiralling into a whirlwind of what it meant and what it meant to your relationship. Your head was too filled with Jungkook.
You grunted. "It's just so crazy to me how I could be so in love with someone for so long... and at the same time feel like I didn't know them at all."
"What did you guys... talk about?"
You sighed. You could tell he was speaking carefully, wanting to know what happened but wary you could shut him out at any time. Jungkook had always been a touchy subject but now, you felt ready.
"Us, the boys, you," you summarised.
"Huh," he acknowledged you as casually as possible—as if not to push it.
"He wanted to get back together..."
You heard Taehyung's shuffling around on the floor. His interest peaked at the confirmation you were willing to share. "And what did you say?" he prompted you.
Your eyebrows furrowed. "No, of course! Why would you even ask me that?!"
"The last time we talked about him... it seemed..." he paused and you braced yourself, "it seemed as if presented with the chance... you might take him back."
"That's offensive," you deadpanned.
"There's nothing wrong with loving someone and wanting someone, ____."
Where the fuck was this coming from? Was he really encouraging feelings that tormented you? "He's a fucking murderer, Taehyung."
"You can't help the way you feel though, ____. I didn't judge you then and I won't judge you now for still caring for him."
You knew his words were supposed to relieve you but they only made you angry. "I don't," you said through gritted teeth.
Taehyung chuckled at your childlike stubbornness. "You can lie all you want to yourself but you can't lie to me."
"Why are you saying this?! Why are you putting these stupid ideas in my head? You're acting like I'm supposed to be with him when I'm supposed to be with—" you.
Even a closed door between the two of you couldn't ward off the tension. He didn't respond. And in his silence you thought, you and Taehyung couldn't be. His silence meant he didn't want you anymore—not only because of the pact but because of your mess of emotions and feelings towards this other man that rudely strolled back into your life. You thought, surely, Taehyung respected himself enough to not respond, to not get involved with you in that way. With this presumptuous realisation, you cleared your throat and decided to change the subject.
"I told him to stay away from you guys and he actually agreed," you almost chuckled. "Sometimes the long shots pan out, huh?"
"And you believe him?" he said softly, you almost didn't catch it through the closed door.
"I do... I mean I think so? God, I'm so sorry I brought you all into this awful fucking mess," you wailed, burying your face into your wet hands.
"No, no!" Taehyung exasperated, "Don't, please. I was stupid to question you. You put your neck out to protect us and we're so fucking lucky to have you. Don't you dare be sorry. We're gonna be ok. Please don't worry and please don't cry again."
Again?
"You heard me before?" you questioned painfully.
He sighed. "It was hard not to. It sounded like you needed it so I left you to it... which was harder."
You wanted to apologise again but you knew that would just upset him more. "Surely, you're used to me crying by now," you said, trying to make a joke out of it.
"It will always hurt to see or hear you cry," he admitted softly.
"God!" you exclaimed.
"That cheesy, huh?" he chuckled back.
"No," you shook your head, despite him unable to see, "sweet."
He groaned. "Just bury me a few feet deeper into the friend zone, why don't you?"
You laughed. "You the one prompting me to talk about my insane ex who I supposedly still want to be with!"
"Look, I'm not particularly enjoying that conversation but I want you to talk to someone about it and I know you won't talk to anyone without a little push," he explained.
You went quiet.
"____?" he called out after you didn't respond after a minute. "You've been quiet about this for three years, don't you think it's time?"
He was right. You stared at the faucet of the tub, sifting through your thoughts, attempting to unjumble them into sentences you could speak. It took you another minute or so.
"It was really hard seeing him today. I mean, last night was hard too but... that Jungkook wasn't my Jungkook. I saw my Jungkook today and saying goodbye to him might have been the hardest thing I've ever done."
Silent tears streamed down your face. You were thankful Taehyung couldn't see you.
"He was exactly how I remembered him, minus a few tattoos, and fuck me, I felt this weird attraction and I just couldn't fucking shake it. It was like I was fighting with myself to not act exactly how we once were. But, in my defence, how are you even supposed to act in that sort of situation? Especially when he was acting so... himself, just... angry and hurt. It felt so weird not to reach out to him and console him and makeup with him to the point where I didn't even know how to stand and hold my arms. It felt wrong and unnatural to leave him like that... Fuck, I'm just as insane as he is."
"No, you're not," Taehyung reassured you.
"I hate that he still haunts me. I hate that he's still in my fucking life."
"____, you never had that chance to say goodbye. It's normal to feel this way. You essentially pressed paused on your grieving process. You never had closure, Jesus, you never even had a proper breakup fight. Of course, it's going to feel weird but trust me, you'll get through this."
You were appreciative of his words, you really were. But as you laid there in, now, cold water staring at the ceiling—only one thought flowed through your mind. One thought that you believed, if actioned, could have prevented this entire emotional crisis.
“I should have just let you fuck me last night.”
You pretended not to hear the back of his head thud against the door.
*
When you eventually got out of the bath, Taehyung had set up a movie and had snacks sprawled across your bedspread. As gorgeous as the set up was, it was the boxy grin he gave you that was the icing on the cake. You crawled on the bed, pecking him on the cheek before slipping under the covers.
"Just us tonight?" you queried as before you had taken your bath, all four boys were lazying around your bedroom.
"Hoseok's coming in an hour or so," he replied. "Yoongi and Jimin want their own beds tonight."
"That's fair," you giggled. "You're all gonna be walking around with hunched backs like old men if you keep sleeping on my floor."
"We don't mind the floor!"
"Yeah, of course, you don't," you retorted, "you cokehead."
"Hey!"
You giggled again and Taehyung let you, just happy to hear you laugh. Although, you were right. He was always so faded it really didn't matter to him where he'd crash. And somehow, he'd always bounce back the next morning, unphased and unaffected by the uncomfortable sleep and substances from the night before.
"So, I'm guessing you told them Jungkook isn't coming for them?"
He nodded. "And they increased their security, just in case."
You groaned. "Please don't say that."
"Sorry, I thought that might have put you at ease a little more," he said, apologetically.
You shook your head as if to say it was fine. He gave you a small smile before starting the movie. You had trouble focusing on it. All you could think about was Taehyung's safety. If Jungkook was to go back on his word, it would be Taehyung he'd come after. The more you thought about it the more you believed it to be probable. You left Jungkook in a distraught state with Taehyung's name on his lips. Chills spread through you, to the bone and you were so grateful Taehyung decided he could go another night without his own bed.
Half an hour into the movie, your eyes became droopy. Taehyung had rolled onto his side and you took the opportune moment to spoon him, so tightly he let out a squawk and a chuckle. You wouldn't let go, you wouldn't even relax your grip to let him wriggle. He noticed the third time he tried to change his position.
"You good?"
You hummed.
"Um, do you think you can let me breathe then?"
"Taehyung," you sighed, "you just gotta let me do this, ok?"
He sniggered and then nodded, "Ok."
*
As you fell asleep, you had continued to hold onto Taehyung so tightly. You had to ensure he wasn't going anywhere, to ensure he wasn't leaving you, to ensure he wouldn't be taken from you. As you drifted off, you had felt a horrible sense of dread at the pit of your stomach that you couldn't shake. In the middle of the night, when you felt nothing but linen where Taehyung was supposed to be—it was safe to say that dread was amplified by a million.
Hoseok was sleeping on the other side of you, he must have snuck in right after you had drifted off. You woke him up with a frantic slap, you were aiming for his back but in the dark, you’d hit his head. Reflexively, he kicked you right back and groaned in annoyance.
“Hobi! Wake up, where's Taehyung?!” you fired at him.
After a few long seconds, Hoseok stirred awake. "What?" he replied groggily, "He's probably taking a piss."
You whipped the blankets off of you and jumped out of bed as if you weren't sound asleep minutes ago. When you saw the bathroom door wide open and the light off, you began to panic.
"No, he's not Hoseok!" you screamed, pure hysteria in your croaky voice.
Hoseok did his best to come to, slowly rising from his pillow and rubbing his eyes. "____, calm down. He probably couldn't sleep and went outside to smoke."
You shook your head frantically. "No, Hobi! He always wakes me up for that."
Hoseok sighed and sat up, ready to humour you and engage in the search for Taehyung—who was, in Hoseok's mind, most likely raiding the fridge. You, however, were convinced he wasn't. You just had a feeling something was terribly wrong. You ran over to your nightstand to grab your phone. No texts, or missed calls. He always texted or called. Something was definitely wrong.
"____," Hoseok called to you.
You turned to him to see him on his phone, his eyebrows furrowed and you could tell it wasn't because of his phone's brightness.
"Get dressed," he commanded, "I know where he is."
*
It was 3 in the morning. The only reason you had paid attention to what time it was was that in darkness it lit up neon red on the dashboard of Hoseok's car. After hounding him to tell you what was going on to no avail—all you could do was stare at the little red numbers. You had no idea where you were going, no idea where Taehyung was and no idea why Taehyung left your side in the middle of the night.
You tried your best not to think about how scary the situation was. Hoseok knew you well and even though it aggravated you for him to decide to not tell you anything for the time being—you trusted him. He was keeping quiet for good reason. Maybe he didn't even have all the answers? So, you kept your questions at bay, content with the fact you weren't having a full-on panic attack. But, oh how you felt it brewing.
You knew the apartment complex Hoseok pulled into. You'd been there many times it was like another home, familiar. What wasn't familiar was the police cars parked outside, blocking off the entrance. You didn't wait for the car to come to a complete stop before you bolted out, ignoring Hoseok's calls for you. You ran into the lobby and with shaky hands hit the button for the elevator repeatedly. When it finally came you hit the button for the penthouse suite and assaulted the button for the doors to close before anyone saw you sneak into a crime scene.
It was a crime scene. When you got to the top floor you were met with yellow tape and officers hanging around. Your heartbeat was fast and loud in your eardrums, drowning out any other sound, drowning out the police officers questioning you as you stormed into the apartment you had been in a hundred times before.
You didn't know what to think. All you felt was overwhelming dread and horror as you paced frantically around the open planned living room and kitchen—trying to figure out what was going on and hoping not to see the worst. But even if it was the worst, your brain would deny believing. If anything it all felt like a bad dream—none of it made sense.
An officer eventually got a hold of you, grabbing you by the arm. "Ma'am, you can't be in here, this is a crime scene," he informed you, trying to drag you off.
"No, no, this is my friend's apartment," you argued, still terribly confused and petrified.
"You still need to leave, ma'am," the officer said, trying to haul you away again.
"No!" you screamed, fighting him for your arm back.
"It's fine, she can stay!"
You had never felt so grateful to hear a voice in your entire life. You were so relieved, you immediately started crying. He was sitting on the couch in the dark as still as a statue and you ran over to him. Having walked past that same couch in your panicked state, his stillness seemed to have camouflaged him into the furniture. When you crouched in front of him, he still didn't move. He just looked at you and through his dead eyes, you saw anguish.
"Taehyung?" you called to him softly through your tears.
He didn't respond and it prompted you to reach out to him, to grab his wet hands. Your stomach sunk. You dived for the lamp and when the light shed upon him, you forced down a dry heave. He was covered in blood.
"Oh my god!" you cried, frantically feeling him for his wounds. You began hyperventilating, calling someone, anyone for help but the words got lost in your heavy breathing. He was so pale and judging by the amount of blood covering him, he must have lost a lot. Why was no one helping him? You were trembling. You tried to lift his shirt to find the source of the bleeding but suddenly, Taehyung grabbed a firm hold of your hands.
"____," he croaked with pure heartbreak in his eyes, "it's not my blood."
You fell back onto the coffee table. At that moment, you swore time stopped. You don't know how you found your footing, but you managed. You headed straight down the hallway thinking, bedroom, bedroom, bedroom.
"No, ____," Taehyung called after you desperately, "you let me explain! YOU DON’T WANT TO SEE THAT—”
The bedroom was crowded but you spotted a familiar face. He spotted you too, almost immediately and tried to usher you out. You protested, holding him at arm's length, searching his body for any blood or wounds through teary eyes. When you were confident he was ok, you buried your face into his chest.
“Seokjin,” you whimpered. “What the fuck’s going on?!”
He hushed you, rubbing your back. He wanted to tell you, he really did. But the fact you were so distraught already had him second-guessing telling you, almost never wanting you to know. But, of course, he couldn't shelter you from everything—especially not this.
“I’ll explain everything,” he murmured, looking over his shoulder at the bathroom door and continuing to try to push you out of the room. “We just need to leave this room first, ok?”
“Why—”
A man, an officer, a detective emerged from the ensuite with a bang. The door always banged against the wall if you pushed it just a little too much, but he wouldn't know that. This was a stranger’s apartment to him, to all of them and they were the ones to make you feel like the stranger, the intruder.
“Sir, please take her outside. We can't have you both in here— ____?”
The detective was Choi Seunghyun. You were surprised he even remembered you but then, your brain quickly connected the dots. You could have puked all over his coat and turtleneck ensemble. You could feel the blood drain from your face, you could feel yourself turn pale.
The detective had left the bathroom door wide open and staring into his concerned eyes you could see him realise his mistake. When you saw the owner of the apartment, the shock sent your whole body into numbness and caused white noise to deafen your ears. His naked body was lying on the tile, limp and contorted unnaturally. He was mutilated and soaked in blood, the red even streaking through his blonde hair—Min Yoongi's blonde hair.
You hit the floor screaming. Jin tried to haul you up again but you refused, whacking at his arms as he tried to lift you. Within seconds, Taehyung was behind you with his arms and legs enveloping you as you cried and screamed and cried. You had never before felt your heart break and crumble the way it did in that moment.
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