Bts Au Fic - Tumblr Posts - Page 2

The very pink, fluffy moodboard for Namjoon’s Guide to Getting Drunk and Finding Love! My fluffy, slightly crack-ish AU Namjin textfic. 

→ Brat tamer

Synopsis: Seokjin was captivated by your beauty and intelligence. It was such a shame that those charms were being wasted by your criminal tendencies. Good for you he knows how to tame the naughtiness out of you, just like he did with his trained police dogs.

K. Seokjin x f.reader

Genre: police au | yander-ish

Tags: evil Seokjin, corruption, corrupted cop, violence, kidnapping, angry reader, strong and fierce reader but submissive at the end, captivity, manipulation, stockholm syndrome, mention of r@pe (but it doesn't happen), very dark.

From the series masterlist; The chasing.

The red and blue lights ghosted on your face, your gaze was a bit blurry but you knew who you have in front of you; police officer Kim Seokjin.

Immediately a rush of adrenaline run your blood, you were expecting him, craving his attention. You were thirsty for revenge.

He carries himself with such confidence that it pissed you off, with an intimidating aura and intense eyes that wanted to pierce you whole, but you weren't afraid of him. Quite the opposite.

"Miss y/n, what a shame seeing you like this again." He sounded serene, and you couldn't help but roll your eyes.

"I'm innocent officer, but i don't know if you're competent enough to notice." You pouted mocking him.

Seokjin eyes darkened immediately, his jaw clenched not breaking his piercing gaze from you.

He killed your best friend a week ago, it was unfair because your friend was innocent. He was tricked into selling drugs, and he didn't have any idea of what was happening until the police caught him, telling him that he was arrested because of his friend's briefcase full of drug. The problem was that Seokjin shot him, unnecessary and unfairly.

You wanted revenge so bad.

"What did you do this time?" He sighs like if he was dealing with a troublesome child, and you snorted offended by his tone.

"She was vandalizing the wall of the streets, spreading hate towards cops, such an ungrateful brat," the old lady scoffs, and you wanted nothing but to punch her.

"Okay, thank you ma'am, i'll take it from here." Seokjin dismissed her, grabbing you and handcuffing your wrists.

"You're a corrupted cop, and i'll swear to god i'll make you pay for killing my friend," you spat full of anger.

Seokjin went stiff behind you for a second, and then he came closer enough to brush your ear with his lips.

"You'll regret speaking to me like that y/n, i'll fucking teach you some manners," he threaten you with a dark voice.

The next thing you know, is that you're in his cop car, heading to god knows where.

You expected him to take you to the police station like any normal cop would do, but to your horror, he was taking you out of the city.

You started to panic.

"Where the fuck are you taking me you psycho! let me go!" You screamed, unable to break free from the handcuffs.

"I recommend you to shut your mouth y/n, don't make me any angrier," he warned you lowly without breaking his gaze from the road, and you listened to him because you were so fucking scared of him.

He was corrupt and dangerous. You were right. And the realization will cost you your life.

Your gaze got blurred by unshed tears,but you swallowed them. You won't cry in front of him, he doesn't deserves your tears.

Your heart squeeze tight in your chest when the car stopped in front of a cabin in a forest.

This is it, he's going to kill you and nobody will ever find out, because the system was that fucked up.

"Scared my y/n? Don't worry, it won't hurt bad i promise, i'm very gentle with women," he mocked like a sadist, but as he said, he treated you rather gently when he took you into the cabin.

Until he didn't.

He throwed you to the floor of his dark basement, and then you see them, his trained police dogs staring at you. And with a heavy heart you realized that you share the same fate as them.

It was a sick feeling, an urge to run away from this predator, Seokjin.

"What will you do to me? Violate me? Then after that you will kill me and feed your dogs with my body, aren't you? You seem like the type to do that, i always knew you were a sicko."

You witnessed the sight of a shocked Seokjin, he looked speechless and taken aback by your words. And it was pleasing to know that you can have some control over his emotions.

You bit back a smirk.

And then his face hardened, piercing you with a darken and unreadable gaze. The corner of his lips lift up with disdain, as if you were so below him.

"What do you think i am? A monster?"

Before you could laugh and mock him, he grabbed the back of your hair in a fist, forcing you to look up at him and making you wince by pain.

"I am not sweetheart, i brought you here to discipline you, after all it is my duty to put criminals like you in their place," he said with a sadist glint in his eyes, coming closer to your ear to whisper, "at the end of the week, you'll be obedient and pliant just like my trained dogs," he winks at you letting go of your hair.

"I rather die," you spat with hate, but your handcuffed hands were trembling, and Seokjin noticed it smirking widely.

"We'll see, brat."

And at the end of the week you were on your knees, with your head resting on Seokjin's thigh, feeling his fingers petting your locks with one hand while the other was holding the leash of your collar, just in case if he needs to punish you, but you were so sweet and pliant lately that he didn't have the need to discipline you.

The isolation, bruises, rewards and punishments turn you into a good girl, and he was proud of that.

"You will never leave me, aren't you?" He tried to sound cocky, but his tone was dark, with a flicker of possessiveness on his grasp and gaze.

You blinked your fuzzy gaze, coming closer to him in between his thighs, resting your chin on his belly and looking up at him with adoration and disorientation in your gaze.

"I rather die."

And he smirked like the devil.

Ko-fi

Taglist:

@demonshauntingthedoves @oddracha

Detective Perfect

Summary: Detective work is one of the most challenging jobs in terms of intelligence- at least, that's what you've noticed as someone who has been on the sidelines for the past two years. But with Kim Taehyung by your side, how hard can it be?

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Genre: High school student reader, high school student Taehyung, best friends to lovers, detective au, bantering, fluff

Word Count: 5.8K

Warnings: Mentions of murder, dead bodies, divorce and cheating (not between oc and Taehyung), blood, gun violence, physical violence, mentions of gangs, minor character deaths, mentions of parental abuse, detailed mentions of drugs

Author's Note: My first fic ever! I'm a little nervous haha, but I'm glad I'm finally gaining the confidence to do it (*_*;;;). I hope you enjoy this and everything else I have planned for the future of this page!

"Here."

The plastic bag hanging from your hand dropped onto the grass next to Taehyung, who looked up at you with an annoying grin. Your best friend grabbed the bag happily, pulling out its contents.

"Aw don't be like that," Taehyung teased at your sulking, bringing out a pair of wooden chopsticks and a plastic container of steaming chicken from the bag, "you did this to yourself."

You rolled your eyes, "I did not. Remind me to never place a bet with you again."

Taehyung pouted as he brought a piece of the chicken to his mouth like he always did when he ate, "you say that every time we make a bet, and every time it ends with you making me food."

"Mhmm, and who won the last time we made a bet?"

He just waved you off, "I don't know what you're talking about."

The familiar feeling of wanting to throw your best friend off a bridge engulfed you, but for the sake of the greater good, you suppressed it reluctantly. 

"Come on," you said, tapping his knee as you turned towards the police building, "our lunch break is almost over and I'm pretty sure our new case is more interesting than finding some lady's purse this time!"

That had his eyes widening in excitement as he quickly closed the container and placed it in his bag, running after you, "you really think so? How do you know?"

"I overheard some officers and Detective Lee having a serious conversation. Then I heard him mention our names! I know it's not a lot to go on, but it can't be nothing, right?"

Taehyung was silent for a moment, clearly mulling over your words, "maybe? I really hope so, I'm so ready for a case that doesn't involve finding Mrs. Hwang's grandson in the convenience store."

You chuckled as you both made your way towards Detective Lee's office, "at least she always gives us cookies after, even though he's always just trying to stuff himself in the ice cream freezer every time."

Taehyung just shook his head, "man, that kid is something else. If I even thought of being that reckless, my mom would beat me with her slipper."

You nodded in agreement. Your dad would never let you see the light of day again.

When the two of you finally arrived at Detective Lee's office, you let Taehyung open the door to find the detective sitting behind his desk, gaze intensely focused on the papers sitting in front of him. At your entrance, his eyes flickered upwards before standing up and giving you both a grim smile.

"Taehyung, Y/N, today your task will be a little different from the ones you're normally used to," he announced. It took every ounce of self-control in you not to jump excitedly at his words and one glance at Taehyung's restrained smile made it clear he felt the same.

"We're ready for anything you ask of us Detective Lee," he said quickly and you nodded alongside him.

Detective Lee nodded his head towards the guard standing in front of the door you and Taehyung had entered from. In a matter of seconds, the guard walked in with a police officer trailing behind him. All their expressions looked solemn.

"Meet Officer Jang. We will be working with him during this case," he said, allowing the officer to stand beside him as he spoke, "Officer Jang, this is Y/N and Taehyung. They've been student volunteers here at this precinct for the past 2 years and will be accompanying us as part of the precinct's shadowing program."

The officer, who had been expressionless up until now, furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, "how young are they?"

"They're both 17, so not too young. But please keep in mind they are still high school kids. Try to limit their interactions with the crime scene to what's appropriate."

Crime scene?

You glanced at Taehyung, who already had his eyes on you. Were you both going to investigate a crime scene? Like an actual murder? Or maybe a robbery? Detective Lee wouldn't be so adamant about not seeing a bank robbery. It had to be a murder.

The possibility had your heart beating rapidly in your chest.

"Alright then," the officer said in finality.

"Let's begin with the briefing."

-

-

-

The story of how you and Taehyung met has always been a popular one for the parties. It often left your classmates shocked in a mix of emotions, which of course the two of you could not care less about. The pain behind it had passed, and now the only thing you could do was laugh it off and continue with your lives. 

You weren't childhood friends that grew up together, nor were you classmates that had found friendship during the school year. In fact, Taehyung didn't even become a student at your school until after the two of you became friends and Taehyung had asked his mother to transfer.

It all started when you were 12 and had started noticing an odd atmosphere suffocating the air in your house. Back then, you were much too young to understand the hesitance and aversion in your parents' actions towards each other and, unfortunately, none had made an attempt to explain the situation to you. It was probably because you were young and the topic was a little too mature for your age, but still, looking back you would have appreciated it if someone had taken the time to sit down and walk you through it. 

Instead, you found out about it firsthand in a way that was frankly traumatizing for a child to see. 

Your mother had been having an affair with another man,

and you had caught them both in your mother's bedroom doing... well, affair-worthy stuff.

While your mother had covered up and desperately tried to explain to you the importance of keeping this secret from your father, the sound of his footsteps entering the room had left all attempts at secrecy futile. And as if that wasn't enough, a woman you had never seen in your entire life had barged into the bedroom a few minutes later and began yelling at the man still sitting on the bed. 

"Is this normal in the adult world?" A voice had asked. You had turned to find a boy around your age standing and watching the chaotic yelling coming from all four of them now. You assumed he was the son of the unfamiliar woman in the room considering their similar appearances. 

"No one warned me we would need earplugs to prepare for adulthood," you thought out loud. He had laughed and after the divorces took place, the two of you had been inseparable since.

You're not sure whether the infatuation with crime had been because of that incident in some weird psychologically twisted way or you would've found the interest regardless of that situation, but either way, it happened. You and Taehyung had spent hours watching crime shows and documentaries together, using your non-existent detective skills to solve the cases presented. 

That's what led you both to volunteer at the local precinct in your city and eventually to the place the two of you were in now.

A house.

You and Taehyung had been a little disappointed by the lack of creepy haunted mansions and mysterious dead bodies when the officer had explained that a murder had taken place in a normal house a few neighborhoods away from your own, but at least the mention of a murder was interesting enough. Detective Lee had followed the officer to the body while giving orders to the two of you to search the upper level of the house for evidence.

"He doesn't want us to see the body," Taehyung said dejectedly, walking through the doorway of one of the bedrooms. 

"There are probably some kind of laws in place for minors seeing stuff like that," you guessed, looking around the room. It had already been searched by officers beforehand, evident through a few evidence markers that had been placed here and there, "but who cares? If we show Detective Lee we're useful, maybe he'll let us come to more of his serious cases."

"I want to actually be a part of the investigation, not look at underwear," he pouted as he pointed towards an open drawer that was full of said undergarments, "he's just keeping us busy because he thinks we're children and he wants us on the sidelines."

"I mean... we are children, though."

He just sighed, "there's nothing here. Let's check the other room."

You nodded, feeling the same disappointment Taehyung was. But it only made you more determined to show Detective Lee your potentials. 

You followed behind Taehyung mindlessly as he walked through the doorway of the second bedroom. 

"What the-" Taehyung suddenly yelped, flinching backwards into you.

"What is wrong with you?" You said, pushing him off you, and walking into the room.

At first, you didn't understand what could have caused his reaction, until you saw it.

There was someone in here. A boy, around your age, sitting calmly on the floor, eyes glued to a window that revealed the brick wall of the house next to the one you were in now.

How creepy.

You inched towards him despite Taehyung's protests to get behind him.

"Hey, are you okay?" You asked softly. The boy was still for a moment, before turning towards you and you gasped.

He was beautiful.

You sounded so pathetic saying it, but damn was the boy sitting on the floor fine. His jawline was sharp, body toned and cheeks cutely puffy but still managing to be structured at the same time. And his eyes... Although they were simply brown, they were so intense as they first scanned you and then Taehyung.

"Yeah, I'm okay," he said softly, pulling himself off the ground.

Taehyung gave you a look before he whispered, "why'd you gasp like that?" 

"He's hot."

You noticed Taehyung's jaw clench as his eyes scanned the boy, his gaze suddenly very cold.

The boy on the other hand smirked and, even though you had whispered it, you had a feeling he might have heard your comment, "I'm Jimin, Park Jimin."

"I'm Y/N, and this is Taehyung," you said politely, eyes travelling down to the outline of his abs against his shirt before forcing them back up to his face.

Congratulations Y/N, you are officially a creep, you thought bitterly.

"What are you doing here?" Taehyung said. You were surprised to hear the distance in his voice. 

"I live here," Jimin said, regarding Taehyung before his eyes landed back on you, "my father was the one killed."

That's when Taehyung's eyes softened, "I'm sorry."

But to your surprise, Jimin just waved him off, "he was an abusive bastard. Whoever killed him did me a favour."

"I'm assuming you guys are here with the detective to figure out who killed him?" Jimin continued, as if he wasn't talking about his father's murder.

Then again, he did say he was abusive. If your dad abused you, you doubted you would love him as much as you did.

"Yeah, we are," you replied, deciding to take advantage of the situation. Jimin nodded, walking past the two of you while grabbing some keys that had been sitting on the desk, "come on, I'll show you the office he always kept locked. Maybe you'll find something there."

The two of you followed behind Jimin as he led you through the hallway of the small house. He slowed down a little, causing Taehyung, who had been walking directly behind him, to step back, allowing Jimin to fall into step beside you.

"So Y/N, you're into this investigative stuff?" he asked.

You nodded, "I'm going to be a detective in a few years."

"You must go over a lot of cases and watch a lot of crime documentaries in that case. It must be fun to do that stuff with your boyfriend," Jimin asked suddenly, "do you? Have a boyfriend I mean?"

"What?" 

The stupid response escaped before you could think it through. Why would he want to know that?

"Just curious," Jimin explained nonchalantly.

You were about to answer when Taehyung spoke from behind you, "yes, she does. Screw off Park Jimin."

You rolled your eyes and slapped him on the shoulder, "No, I do not Taehyung."

A smile perched on Jimin's lips as he smoothly set the key into the lock of an unfamiliar door and pushed it open, "good to know."

You and Taehyung peered curiously into what seemed like a normal office. There was a desk littered with papers and mail, a bookshelf filled with a bunch of textbooks and a picture frame of a girl posing lewdly for the camera.

"What was his job?" You asked, slowly starting to sift through some of the papers on the desk. Surprisingly, it didn't seem like the police had searched this room yet. 

"I don't know," Jimin shrugged, curiously looking around the room as if he had never been in there either, "some kind of businessman, I think?"

The papers, which turned out to be documents, seemed to confirm that. They showed mass purchases of various products, from bathroom supplies to giant construction machinery. 

Your eyebrows furrowed as you continued to sift through the transaction documents. His purchase history was so odd that you couldn't quite pinpoint exactly what kind of businesses he dealt in. Sometimes he was mass purchasing random grocery items, other times he was selling oddly named airplane parts. 

What the heck?

"Hey guys?" You spoke up, watching as they stopped their search and turned towards you, "um, do you guys know what bathroom accessory a 'nalatir' is?"

Both boys' eyebrows furrowed as they made their way to you and peered over your shoulder to look at the document in your hand. 

"Yeah, I've never heard of an 'ethem' before," Taehyung announced, with Jimin nodding on your other side.

"Definitely haven't heard of an 'enaicock' before," Jimin continued, smirking a bit. 

You rolled your eyes at his childishness, "maybe he's not actually purchasing and selling what's written on the paper?"

"You think they're some sort of anagrams?" Taehyung asked, hand brushing against yours faintly as he took the paper from you and narrowed his gaze at the words.

You felt your fingers tingle at the subtle touch, a little surprised by your reaction. What was that?

After a moment, Taehyung turned towards you, pointing at one of the words on the paper, "this one roughly spells out cocaine if you read it backwards."

You took the paper from him.

enaicock

kcociane

cocaine

It kind of made sense. You looked at the other words to make sure it wasn't a coincidence. But you found yourself finding various names that happened to relate to a variety of drugs. 

Taehyung had cracked the code. 

"I think you got it," you said, smiling a bit at Taehyung who returned the expression, "maybe you're not as stupid as I thought you were."

He rolled his eyes at your teasing, but the smile didn't leave his lips as he turned towards the desk, "so your dad was a drug dealer or something?"

"I wouldn't be surprised if he was," Jimin huffed, "just when you think that man can't get any worse," he mumbled under his breath.

"Actually I don't think that's all," you said, feeling kind of bad for Jimin and what all these new revelations were probably doing to him. You can't imagine suffering at the hands of someone you thought you knew, only to discover that he was so much worse than you had thought. 

"The product names on these documents are all some form of anagram for drugs," you explained, showing them the purchase history for the 'bathroom accessories,' "but I can't really find any drug names from these names over here."

You placed a purchase history document that was supposed to be for construction equipment in front of the two, "If we're still going with anagrams, then these names kind of remind me of the names of weapons."

Slowly the boys nodded, looking over the other documents.

"I think you're right," Taehyung said, eyes glued to the papers. 

"These kind of make out names, don't they?" Jimin said, placing the 'plane parts' document in front of you. He was right, you could make out a few human names here and there. 

"What does a person use drugs, weapons and names for?" Taehyung thought out loud.

"It's kind of like those gang or mafia TV shows," Jimin chuckled. But the smile was wiped off his face when he noticed your expression, "wait, seriously? You think my father was part of a gang or something?"

"It's a pretty likely guess," you said.

The conversation came to a stop when you all heard a series of bangs come from the downstairs level of the house. 

"That kind of sounded like-" you said slowly.

"Gunshots," Taehyung concluded. And in a matter of seconds, he was already running out of the room.

"Taehyung!" You yelled, running after him with Jimin right on your heels. 

Was he insane? What kind of idiot runs headfirst into a gunfight? What if he got hurt?

Your run came to a stop when you made it to the living room, eyes widening at the scene before you.

Everyone was dead. 

Detective Lee, the officer that had brought you and Taehyung here and the other officers that had been roaming around the crime scene, were lying on the floor with gunshot wounds littering their bodies. 

The only two that were still alive were standing in the centre of the room. The weight of the situation was suddenly clear to you. 

Taehyung stood only a few steps before you, hands up in the air as his gaze focused on the man in front of him.

Jimin's dad. Park Hae-Soo. 

He stood amidst the chaos, gun pointed at Taehyung with what seemed like a cross between a grimace and a smirk, yet the body that had brought on the investigation was still lying near the wall. 

The person that had been killed had not been Jimin's dad, you realized. The body had just meant to lure everyone here for Hae-Soo's plan. The only question was, what exactly was he accomplishing  by killing all these people? What was his motive?

"Crap," you heard a shaky voice behind you whisper. You found yourself looking back to find Jimin staring with wide eyes at his father.

The nonchalant Jimin that had spoken casually about his dad was long gone and had probably never existed now than you thought about it. That mask had dropped to showcase just how terrified Jimin was of his father. He was trembling- no shaking- at the mere sight of him. His gaze flickered between the bodies, then the gun and then finally his father's face. 

"Why?" Taehyung asked, gaze firmly directed towards the man that could end his life in mere seconds. You wanted to shout at Taehyung, scream at him to shut up and care about his life. How could he speak so casually with a man that had murdered at least a dozen people in the span of five minutes?

"Why?" The man laughed, "Kid, how old are you? They bringin' children to do men's jobs now?"

He nudged one of the dead officers with his shoe, with a haughty scoff, "bastards."

You began to tremble just like Jimin as he fixed the point of the gun at Taehyung's head and unlocked the safety of the weapon, "I'm giving you an option, but I'm not a man that likes to repeat his words so listen carefully." 

"You and your girlfriend can walk out of here without bullets in your bodies as long as you promise not to tell anyone about this."

His voice lowered considerably at his next words, "but if I find out you didn't keep your mouths shut, I'll personally track you both down and show you what a slow and painful death looks like."

His words floated dangerously in the air as silence ensued. You knew what Taehyung would do, what he would say before he opened his mouth. 

"We're not-" But he was interrupted as you ran towards him and covered his mouth.

"We will! We'll leave and we promise we won't tell a single soul, just let us go," you said hastily. 

You could both leave here and let the officers of another precinct know about this, but you had to survive first in order to do that, "just let us leave unharmed."

Taehyung's eyebrows furrowed. 

"Well, I can see who's the brains in the relationship," the man said, licking his bottom lip as he smirked a little. You knew where his eyes were, and they were not on your face. 

With a disgusted expression, you nudged Taehyung to get him to move, "come on Jimin, let's go."

"No," Hae-Soo's strong voice cut through the air like a knife, "that boy stays here."

That boy.

Your gaze landed on Jimin once again, who hadn't moved an inch from the doorway of the living room, expression still terrified. 

"I said you two can go, not him," Jimin's dad commanded loudly, and you could've sworn you noticed Jimin flinch, "he stays here."

That was going to be a problem. 

You couldn't leave Jimin here after hearing about his father being abusive, who knows what he had in store for Jimin. It was clear his father didn't have an ounce of love for him, or any kind of connection with him for that matter. Jimin couldn't stay here. 

"We're not leaving him," you said firmly, and although some may consider it brave, the only thing you felt was fear because you might just become the reason for your and Taehyung's, and maybe even Jimin's death.

"You're in no position to make demands sweetheart," he sneered and pointed the barrel of his gun at your head, "get out. I won't say it twice."

You felt Taehyung take a step to move in front of you, but Jimin's dad moved the gun towards him, stopping him in his tracks, "don't move unless you're leaving this house."

"I'm giving you one last chance," he said slowly, eyes blazing with anger, "leave, or die."

Another silence overtook the room as no one moved. It was like there was a timer ticking in your head, counting down the seconds you had left to change this situation. Your eyes darted everywhere, trying to think of some way you could disarm Jimin's father. Some way you could save both Taehyung and Jimin. 

Your gaze travelled towards the grey leather couch, then the white dirty carpet drenched in blood, and then the bodies littering the floor.

There was nothing.

"Time's up," Jimin's dad said suddenly. You saw the barrel of his gun point towards you once again.

"No!" Taehyung yelled. You felt Taehyung's hands on your shoulder at the same time you heard the sound of the gun going off. 

Your head connected harshly with the floor while Taehyung hovered over you. You could make out the bullet hole on the wall just a meter above where you had been standing a second ago. Taehyung didn't waste much time as he pushed himself up and ran towards Jimin's dad, trying to pry the gun from his hands. 

"Sehun!" Hae-Soo yelled while trying to get out of the hold Taehyung had on him now.

You felt a pair of hands grapple you down as you tried to pull yourself up. The owner of the hands, most likely Sehun, was unfamiliar to you, but it was clear that he was on Hae-Soo's side as he held you down and waited for further instructions. Behind you, you could make out Jimin fighting with another man dressed similarly to Sehun. 

Your gaze dropped to Taehyung and Jimin's dad, who were now grappling with the gun. It sat between them, the barrel pointed dangerously at Taehyung as he tried to pry it from Hae-Soo's hands. You could feel your heart beat loudly in your chest as you saw Jimin's dad's finger snake around Taehyung's arm and feel the trigger of the gun. Only you don't think Taehyung noticed the action, which made your stomach drop.

"Taehyung move!" You yelled.

But it wasn't fast enough.

The sound of a gunshot reverberated across the room. Taehyung, whose eyes were wide now, slowly looked down at the gun and then Hae-Soo's face. 

The barrel had been pointing at Taehyung.

Taehyung had been shot.

Kim Taehyung, your best friend, was going to die.

You heard yourself scream his name before you could even realize what had happened. You couldn't lose him. You couldn't lose the best friend that had helped you through the choppy divorce of your parents. You couldn't lose the man that made sure to call you after school every single day to make sure you got home safely. You couldn't lose the one person in your life that did everything he could to make you happy when you were feeling down even when it involved embarrassing himself.

You couldn't lose Kim Taehyung. Because without him, you think you'd lose yourself.

"Get up," a man's voice rang from in front of you, but you didn't move. Your eyes stayed glued to Taehyung. 

"Get up, we have to go before his men get here, your friend is fine," he said more firmly. His words caused you to look up at him, surprised when you saw Sehun passed out on the floor not too far away from you. Instead, another man was standing before you, hand raised to help you onto your feet. 

His black hair was trimmed into an army cut and he towered over you, looking a little impatient as you stared at him from your position on the floor. 

Who was he? And where did he even come from?

You turned to look at Jimin, who was being helped by a guy that was dressed in similar clothes to the one in front of you, only he was a little shorter and adorned with light purple hair that somehow managed to suit him. 

But then you processed the man's words. 

Your friend is fine.

You turned back to Taehyung, who was crouched over Jimin's dad. There was blood surrounding them, but none actually on Taehyung's shirt. It was Hae-Soo. It was his shirt that was soaked in blood. An unfamiliar man stood behind him, a gun in his hand as he pried Taehyung off of Jimin's dad and dragged him out the door. 

"See? He's fine," the man in front of you confirmed, and you were surprised to see him smiling, a prominent dimple on each cheek as he beckoned his hand towards you once again.

"Now let's go."

A blindfolded truck ride later, you, Jimin and Taehyung found yourselves being led, by the man that had saved you earlier, through the halls of an enormous mansion silently. You didn't know where the other men that had been with him had disappeared, but it was clear whatever had happened back there was not finished. 

After they had loaded the three of you into a truck, there had been no explanations whatsoever about who they were and where they were taking you. You half expected them to be kidnappers now that you thought about it. 

"What are you going to do with us?" Taehyung asked. For the past hour he's been asking the same questions. 

Who are you? Why did you save us? Where are you taking us?

But the man was silent, not sparing as much as a glance at the three of you. 

Finally, he led you into a large room that resembled a meeting room. Desks full of computers lined the walls and a large table sat in the center, holding various maps, papers and other things you couldn't even recognize. The only sign of life was one man sitting with his back towards you while watching the screen of a computer. If you were to guess, the screen seemed like it was displaying some kind of surveillance footage. 

Now that the guy leading you had stopped, the fear was starting to kick in. Who were these people?

"Well, Yoongi hyung?" The guy who had led you here said, apparently towards the guy sitting at the desk, "how's our situation?"

"The bastard is dead, thankfully," the guy named Yoongi huffed, "Police officers are at the crime scene right now, inspecting the body. Jungkook's there too, but I don't think he'll pick up our trail, although I'll continue to monitor him just in case. We can't have the cops on our back... again. I'll plant some evidence to lead him away if I have to, don't worry Namjoon."

Namjoon crossed his arms, "Good."

Finally he turned towards you all, who had huddled closer to each other in fear. These people were clearly not with the cops, so what were they going to do with you all?

"We're letting you guys go, so relax," he said, which earned him three confused stares.

Namjoon sighed, like you all were some kind of nuisance to him, "we just need to make sure that if you're questioned, you won't mention us. It's the least you could do after we saved your life."

"You're misleading cops, there's no way you people are any better than that gangster," Taehyung countered. As much as you wanted to jab him in the ribs with your elbow, because they had guns and you all did not, you still had to agree. Whatever this was, it wasn't legal, and it was definitely shady. You couldn't just stand by and do nothing, even if they did save your life.

"Kid, the cops aren't exactly angels," Namjoon said, his tone light but firm, "you're still a child, so I don't expect you to understand."

He took a few steps closer to you all, "but just know that if you tell anyone about our existence, a lot of people are going to get hurt, both the cops and the people I care about. Keep your hands clean from blood by keeping your mouth shut, this is my warning."

"Hoseok, get them out."

A few moments later you were being pushed out into the now dark street by a guy named Hoseok, who apologized for 'being so mean.' After handing you some money, he was gone. 

Everything happened so fast that the three of you just stood in silence for a good minute, contemplating everything that had happened up until now.

Then Taehyung grabbed your wrist and pulled you away from a shock-stricken Jimin so that he couldn't hear your conversation.

"That was weird," he said, and all you could do was nod because, yes, that was in fact weird.

"Should we... tell the cops?" Taehyung asked uncertainly. He was feeling conflicting thoughts as well, you were sure of it. You should have said yes and reported them to the police right away. But something felt wrong, like doing that would get a lot of innocent people hurt. 

And that's what Namjoon said, didn't he? That people would get hurt if you exposed them to the police.

It occurred to you for the first time that maybe everything you knew about the station, about the justice system in general, wasn't completely the truth. After all, you still didn't know why Jimin's father did what he did. There were secrets, secrets you could only get from the inside. 

"No, I don't think we should tell them," you said finally and you were glad to see Taehyung nodding. You loved how you two were always on the same page, even without having a proper conversation. You both knew each other too well. 

"Good because I was thinking the same," he explained, looking almost relieved.

"By the way, why'd you ditch Jimin over there?" You asked, pointing towards Jimin who was still standing idly in shock. You doubted he even noticed you and Taehyung had moved a pretty big distance away from him. 

"Because he's annoying," Taehyung huffed, sending him a glare.

"Why do you hate him so much?" Your gaze narrowed at him. Taehyung was always so friendly and cheerful with everyone, it came as a surprise to you when he acted so cold with Jimin. 

Taehyung paused for a moment, scanning your face before sighing, "you know for an aspiring detective you're really not good at picking up clues."

You tilted your head, not sure whether to be offended or not, "I didn't realize I had a case."

"Well then let me give you a briefing," he said firmly. There was no hint of jokes or laughter anymore, he was serious, "I spend every minute of my free time with you. I pick up on every small detail about you. Every time I look at you, I can't seem to find any words to tell you how beautiful you are because none of them would do you justice. I always reply to your texts within seconds even though I literally leave people on read for months. I can't think about losing you because I genuinely feel like something happens to my heart when I do. I want to spend the rest of my life with you and only you. Solve the case, Y/N."

You couldn't help your mouth that was wide open now. All the things he said... they all pointed towards one thing...

"You... like me?"

Your voice came out in a hesitant whisper. If he was trying to get at something else, which was probably the case, you had no clue. Maybe you really were bad at detective work?

Before you could backtrack Taehyung pulled you into him,

and pressed his lips against yours. 

For a moment, you froze, the action not registering in your brain even after Taehyung pulled away from the soft peck on your lips. 

"I know you may not feel the same way, but-"

You didn't let him finish. 

You grabbed the collar of his shirt and crashed your lips against his. He was quick to respond, hands pulling you closer as yours did the exact same. 

It felt like only a second had passed when the two of you broke off for some much-needed air.

"I can't believe this," Taehyung said through pants, "you really accept me? What about Jimin?"

"Screw Jimin, I want you Kim Taehyung, only you," you said, giving him a smile. He returned it for a moment, but then something seemed to cross his mind.

"But I don't have abs."

You shrugged, "Abs are overrated anyway."

Apparently, that was a lot bigger of a deal than you had thought because he engulfed you in a hug and began jumping excitedly, "good because I refuse to go on a diet. I love food just as much as I love you."

You don't think he realized just how much of a praise that was to you. Food was elite. The fact that you could even compare to it made you realize just how much Taehyung liked you. 

You quickly gave him another kiss in excitement before pulling away, "okay, we have to get Jimin and figure a way out of here."

"Out of where?" Taehyung asked, looking a bit dazed after the kiss. 

"We're literally in the middle of the street, which is also in the middle of nowhere, idiot."

"Oh, right," Taehyung said, noticing, probably for the first time, where you all were, "can't we just leave Jimin?"

"No, now come on," you said, dragging his whining form towards Jimin, who was somehow still frozen in shock. 

"We need to start re-evaluating some things."

Finally Free || PJM

Summary: Kidnapped at a young age, Y/N is forced to work for an organisation that specialises in killing. All is well until she begins to realise her partner, Park Jimin, may be keeping more secrets from her than she realised.

Pairing: Park Jimin x reader

Genre: Assassin reader, assassin Jimin, enemies (?) to friends to lovers, assassins AU, angst

Word Count: 22.9k

Warnings: Kidnapping, murder/assassination, gun violence, knife violence, physical violence, major character death, mentions of a dead animal, blood, heated making out

“Once upon a time, there was a girl.

She was haughty and smug, plagued with the impression that those around her were inferior in every way possible. Her notion was not without foundation, for she topped her classes again and again, excelled in every activity she’d ever bothered to try, and had every student in the school wishing her to give them the time of day. Teachers lifted her with commendation and boys begged for but a simple chance. 

Her only problem was that she was too good, and she didn’t bother to hide it.

She would revel in the praises of her classmates, flaunting her grades and trophies to no limits. New strangers were not seen as the beginning of a novel relationship, but new opportunities to show off her excellence. Adoration had become her perpetual melody. 

Until one day the turntable turned no more.

The girl brushed her hair softly as she sat in front of her dresser, watching as the silky curls bounced against her nightgown. She was in awe at her porcelain skin and the delicate dip of her nose. Admiration for herself was nothing out of the ordinary, enough to put even a man like Narcissus to shame. But what she didn’t notice that night was the shadow watching her from afar. 

Its gaze fixated through the cool glass of the window with focus and intensity. Had the girl been just a little aware, she might have even caught it, but she was much too immersed in stretching across her bed happily as thoughts of tomorrow’s exam results filled her with glee.

Her ignorance continued as the shadow finally moved, slithering within the darkness until it emerged from the shadows, slowly stepping towards the girl.

That was the last time anyone had ever seen her again. 

Her parents had sworn they had heard a scream erupt from their daughter’s room at the strike of midnight, but upon stumbling into her room, they were only met with an empty bed, a window left wide open, and a message engraved on the alabaster wall dripping in crimson red blood:

‘We see all, we know all, we control all.’

The next day, gasps reverberated against the walls of the school. Not at the news of the girl’s disappearance, no the parents had not disclosed such information just yet, but at the results board that had been pinned in the hallway. 

The girl that had never gotten below a full mark in her life had just received a zero, her name written boldly at the end of the list of students. 

The day after, the school newspaper’s front page had, for the first time, displayed a headline worthy of turning the students' heads. It had been a three page summary of every sin the girl had ever committed, from cheating on her boyfriend in the eighth grade to bullying her friends into obedience in the tenth.

At the end of the newspaper, was an oddly written sign off.

‘We see all, we know all, we control all.’

One by one, everything the girl had worked hard for throughout her life had been torn down within a month- her reputation, her achievements, her school rank. Until one day, even the mention of her name was met with scoffs and rolled eyes. 

‘It’s good she’s gone, she got what she deserved.’

‘If she’s really done all that, I hope she’s dead.’

‘She was snobby and arrogant anyway, good riddance.’

Jealousy is such an easy tool to play with, and they indeed played it with ease. But their intentions were not influenced by such an emotion. The pettiness of an action motivated by jealousy was far too low for their standards. They took the girl because they wanted her. They wanted her brain, her body, her soul. And they didn’t need to ask permission from anyone. 

Because they see all.

They know all.

And they control all.

So, what is the moral of the story?”

The room was met with silence. Once upon a time you would rush to fill the quiet void created by the darkness of midnight and your mother’s expectations. Her words would seep into the marrow of your bones and create some of the worst nightmares you could think of.

But now you could only scoff.

“Don’t be a show off,” the words left your lips automatically. You were only half paying attention anyway, the mind of a nine year old tended to do that when being told the same story for what was probably the hundredth time. 

All you wished to do was burrow into the blanket covering your frame and fall into the peace that was a gift of sleep.

Your mother simply hummed. She had asked this question as many times as she had told the story, and your reply was always the same. Even her hum in response was no different from the other times. It was never any indication as to whether the answer satisfied her, only a mere act of acknowledgement. 

But instead of turning off the nightlight of your room and calling it a night like she always did, this time she stayed behind, gaze boring into yours as she watched your tiny figure hugging the pillow on the large bed.

“Is that truly what you believe the moral to be?” She asked unusually.

Your mother has always been ominous in everything she said. You were sure her words always held some kind of double meaning, like she knew things you didn’t and she wanted to make sure you knew it.

“Yes?” You replied, doubt weakening your response. Up until now, you had always believed that your answer had been adequate enough.

Was it not?

Your mother chuckled, another unusual action for her. Tonight seemed to be full of surprises. 

“You will figure it out one day,” she stood, obviously refusing to answer anything in a way that might make sense. 

“Did you lock your window?” She asked, checking the lock anyway.

You nodded your head, another routine question answered flatly.

“Then let your dreams give you comfort,” she said, one of the rare phrases of hers that genuinely brought warmth to your chest.

“Goodnight,” you replied, watching her walk out of the room while gently closing the door behind her. 

Your room was drenched in the night’s darkness, only a sliver of moonlight allowing you to see the outline of the fancy furniture distributed throughout the room. You could hear the screeching caw of a bird outside your window, the tick tocks of the grandfather clock hiding behind your dresser, and the occasional tussle of your bedsheet as you squirmed around. 

You were restless tonight, the words of your mother oddly bothering you awake.

If the moral of the story wasn’t to not show off, then what else could it possibly be? If the girl had not flaunted her achievements, they wouldn’t have known how smart she was and they wouldn’t have taken her. It was a logical answer with a logical explanation.

You huffed as you pushed the blanket off yourself and made your way to the window, eyeing the bright moon as you swam in the ocean that was your thoughts.

Maybe she should have tried to be more likeable? If she had been more genuine towards her friends, they might have liked her enough to search for her after her disappearance. That’s how it was in those movies, wasn’t it? The main character’s friend disappears, the police close the case due to lack of evidence, and then the main character takes it upon themself to search for their friend alone.

Maybe that was what your mother was trying to point towards?

You sighed, not feeling any kind of enlightenment at your ideas. Your small hands found the lock of the window and pulled it open, feeling the light breeze of the fresh air outside. 

Life is not a movie my dear child. Reality is a lot more harsh than what they make it out to be.

Your mother’s words echo in your mind, though you don’t even remember when she’s ever said them. She seemed to have grown a consciousness of her own in your head. You suppose most people would classify that as some kind of mental illness.

You felt yourself lean forward, resting your arms on the windowsill as you closed your eyes and basked in the chill breeze. For a fleeting moment, you wondered what it would feel like to walk outside, to feel soft grass, or hard sidewalk concrete. That was what normal people did, didn’t they? They went on walks and played in parks. But you had never done those things. Maybe that’s why you felt like you were going crazy.

As you opened your eyes, they suddenly flitted across a shadow that you swear you saw on the stone driveway of your house. It had been small, and if it had really existed, then it had also been very quick. You strained your neck forward so that you could get a better look outside of the window. Your driveway was still within your house thanks to a tall iron gate, so no one other than your mother and the maids could be outside and at this hour it was unlikely that any of them would even be up at all.

Deep in your thoughts, you didn’t realise just how far you had been leaning against the window until you felt your hold on the windowsill slip. Your arms slipped forward, bringing your whole body with you. You only had a second to register the fact that you were going to fall, from a height that could very much kill you. But you didn’t. Your body didn’t slip outside of the window, nor did it hit against the hard stone driveway. Instead, you felt a hand grab your collar from behind, and throw you across your bedroom. Your back collided with the wood of your dressing table, causing pain to flare in your bones. 

That’s when you finally saw him. 

A figure wrapped in black clothes stood before you as he breathed heavily. The only parts of him that were uncovered were his hair and hands, otherwise his face was covered by a black mask. 

You tried to get yourself to your feet, to scream at the sight of his presence, but he was much quicker. His hands were on you in seconds, one pinning you roughly to the floor while the other was held tightly against your lips.

Of course you struggled, but the figure kept you pinned with strength you could not match. You suddenly felt like the girl in the story your mother had just told you about.

Except this was real life. Either you would die here or you would be taken somewhere else.

With an idea forming into your mind, you slowly stopped struggling, letting your limbs fall to your side. The figure must have thought you were giving up because you could feel his grip loosening.

But he was wrong to think you wouldn’t go down without a fight. 

In a quick motion, you moved to hit him on the head. But even with the element of surprise on your side he was still quicker. Instead you hand connected with his face, and in a moment of desperation, you grabbed onto the black mask covering his features.

The cloth ripped off of him, causing the two of you to freeze. He looked like a normal boy, maybe a few years older than you, but definitely no older than 12. His cheeks were soft while they were framed by his dishevelled black hair. But his eyes…

Despite their common brown colour, there was a hurricane of emotions hiding behind them. Anger, determination, fear and pain.

So, so much pain. 

The two of you locked gazes for what felt like an eternity, but was probably only a few seconds.

Then the boy stood and began dragging you towards your window, which was now wide open. Once you were outside, no one would be able to save you. Your fate would be handed over to this unusual boy.

A sudden panic overtook your mind.

“Wait! Please,” you begged, your hands clawing at his grip on your arm with no success, “I’ll do anything, just please let me go!”

He ignored you, continuing to walk towards his exit with no plans of stopping. 

“Please,” you were crying at this point, “who are you? What do you want from me?”

At those questions, he paused for a moment before slowly turning to face your small figure. His eyes were once again on you, this time regarding your arms, then your clothes, and then lastly your eyes. 

If you were in your right mind, you might have noticed the shaky breath that escaped his lips, but you were too busy being terrified over where your future lay now. 

He took a bold step towards you, causing you to back away as much as his grip on your arm would let you.

“Who are we?” He asked, his voice steady. It was the only thing you could focus on without panicking before nodding slowly. 

He took another step towards you, “after today your life will never be the same.”

Another step.

“You’ll either live in fear, shivering in the shadows of darkness.”

One more.

“Or you’ll learn how to hide in them and use them to rise to the top.”

You felt your back bump against a wall, but he didn’t stop until his face was barely a breath away from your own.

“Either way, you’re ours now.

Because we see all, we know all, and we control all.”

15 Years Later

“There’s no way you don’t see it. You’re dumb, but not that dumb.”

Your back leaned against the mahogany bannister in a crouched state as your neck strained to continue focusing on Jimin, who was crouched on the other side of the staircase mulling over your words. He had wisely chosen to ignore the jab you had sent him, opting instead to shift uncomfortably in his place with his position mimicking your own. 

Instead of an actual response, he just scoffed, turning his head to look between the gaps of the bannister rather than your face. Despite it, you could imagine his expression clearly, furrowed eyebrows and a narrow gaze as he waited for your target. 

Fortunately for the two of you, the owner of the mansion you were in had decided to go for an open concept layout, giving the two of you maximum coverage of the whole ground floor from your vantage point at the top of the wooden stairs. That, paired with the isolated nature of his mansion, was just making it too easy. You could do this mission with your eyes closed.

Which made this a perfect opportunity to bring up this topic to Jimin. It was just as much frustrating as it was pleasing how unserious he was about it. 

“I’m just saying,” you began, hoping to get the conversation going once again, “if you guys dated, it would be good for your reputation within the Organisation and you’d be loaded for life.”

You had to push away the rotten feeling in your heart at the mention of Jimin dating someone. It was so pathetic, all these years pining for a man that had probably never looked at you as more than a sister. But you couldn't help it. It was like in those movies you've watched, where the character's heart fluttered at his every touch. Or when he called their name and all their problems seem to wither away. Or just the thought of him brought a smile to their face. 

As embarrassing as it was to admit, that was exactly how you were. It was always fine, because if you had learned one thing from your life, even before who you are now, it was how to hide things. Hiding your emotions had especially become your specialty. 

But things were changing. You were starting to watch him when he spoke for too long, you started longing for his attention a lot more now and not to mention an incident involving falling onto him during a mission where you felt like your heart would explode. You were getting bad at the one thing you thought you were good at. 

And it was starting to hurt. All those years of pining weren't really torture for you, for some reason it was easy to call it nothing more than a crush back then. Knowing you could never have him was simply a fact that you didn't mind. You had his friendship and friendship was all you needed. But now, his presence did things to you, and whatever it was, it was painful. Watching him laugh only reminded you that one day it'll be someone else's and listening to him talk about the future only reminded you that one day he wouldn't be in it. 

Which was why you had to do this. You had to put some kind of boundary between the two of you so that these unwelcome thoughts would leave. So that you could finally go a day without thinking about him or without wishing he was by your side all the time. 

And what better way than to find him a girlfriend?

Jimin’s face turned towards you once again as you adjusted the idle gun in your hands, gaze scanning your expression and then your finger resting comfortably on the trigger. You were used to it. You had been under his constant gaze ever since you were 9 after all. 

Finally he turned away, staring forward in an oddly tired way. 

“No, I don’t think so.”

“What do you mean no? She’s the daughter of our leader. If you two dated, even eventually got married, you’d have her father’s protection and money. You’d be set for life,” you argued, chest fluttering weirdly in the process. 

But Jimin simply shook his head. You watched him for a moment, noticing his tense shoulders and furrowed eyebrows. He was a man of few words, you’d learned at least that much about him in the years you’d spent as mission partners. When something was on his mind, it took a little pushing to get him to open up. Since it was clear the mission couldn’t be what was bothering him, you guessed it was something else. 

“What is it?” you asked finally, gaze flickering towards the mansion’s front door in case your target showed up, “there’s something on your mind. Come on, tell me.”

He paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts in the process. Just because he didn’t talk much didn’t mean he was stupid. He was the complete opposite really. Every word that left his mouth was calculated, an immense amount of thought and intention behind every sentence.

Finally, he spoke up.

“Do you really think she likes me?”

The question felt like a hammer to your chest. Any hope you had of fostering a more intimate relationship with the man a metre or two away from you was crushed by the sliver of hope you could hear in his voice. Of course Jimin would want to date her. She was rich, gorgeous, and, most importantly of all, the daughter of the Organisation’s leader. Who wouldn’t?

You pushed down the jealousy threatening to make itself known.

“Yes, I’m very sure she does. So what’s stopping you?”

The digital watch on your wrist suddenly lit up, a coordinate flashing on the little map illustrated in black and white. The target was close, but not close enough to matter right now. 

Jimin’s gaze lifted from his own watch, pausing once again, “even if she did like me, which may not even be the case, her dad would probably put my head on a silver platter before he’ll let her date me.”

“To me it seems like her dad doesn’t really care about what she does,” you thought out loud, “besides, I doubt he’d stop one of the best assassins in the Organisation from being with his daughter. If anything, he’d be glad he doesn’t have to pay for her bodyguard anymore.”

You hated how much you wanted him to refuse. To say that the real reason was because he didn’t like her like that. But his next words crushed your heart once again.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. I’ll try to talk to her when I get the chance.”

You wanted to ask him whether he’d been secretly pining over her this whole time, but it would have to be in a joking manner so that it looked like it didn’t matter to you and you don’t think you could muster up that kind of energy. You could barely muster the fake smile you sent his way.

Thankfully, you didn’t have to actually say anything because right at that moment, the doors of the mansion burst open and your target stomped into the room. Immediately you and Jimin took your positions, one knee steadying yourselves while your hands steadied the gun aiming towards the target. He hadn’t noticed the two of you yet as he grabbed one of the vases on a coffee table and sent it crashing against the fireplace. 

Though his anger seemed especially exaggerated, it didn’t really matter. Your mission had already been assigned, and nowhere in the outline had it said to figure out why your target was in such a rotten mood. 

So without even a glance at each other, you and Jimin each sent a bullet flying towards the target, one slashing through his right arm, while the other through his right leg. The target stumbled to the ground, flailing around while yelling obscenities that would make a viking proud. 

But no matter how hard he yelled, the only people that could hear him were himself, Jimin and you. 

The two of you dropped from the staircase and nonchalantly made your way to his writhing form on the living room’s carpet. The red of his blood seeped into the red of his carpet, so much so that an untrained eye might not have even been able to spot it. 

“Mr. Kang,” Jimin announced. His voice when he addressed people during missions was low and authoritative, one of the only things that really scared you about him. Sometimes you could even see him leading the Organisation itself with that voice. If he started dating the leader’s daughter, would that eventually become a reality?

He continued, completely unaware of your wild thoughts, “you have betrayed the Organisation with your acts of treason, and for that, you have been sentenced to die.”

The man stared up in horror as he watched you walk up to his broken form and point your polished gun to his head. There was no one that could save him now, this was the end.

As if that realisation dawned on him, he suddenly calmed himself down. The whimpers that had been echoing around the living room ceased and he pulled himself into a somewhat sitting position.

That made you and Jimin look at each other in confusion. 

“It doesn’t have to be like this,” he started, voice strained in pain, “they’ve made you mindless puppets only to be used for their own biddings. And when you finally stop benefiting them, they’ll throw you away the same way they’re throwing me away.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “you’re being thrown away because you’re a traitor.”

“How can I be a traitor when they betrayed me first? They promised me they’d keep him safe as long as I did their dirty work, but my years of service were rewarded with what? My own hands dirty with his blood.”

You looked over at Jimin to share your confusion but were surprised to see his shoulders tensed. He was looking at the man on the floor with an unreadable expression, but you could have sworn you caught some fear in his eyes. 

The man’s eyes widened as he seemed to catch onto Jimin’s expression too, “he knows, doesn’t he?!”

He crawled forward and grabbed Jimin’s hand, but Jimin surprisingly didn’t move, “you know what is to come! Let me go! Rebel! Run away! Do not serve them even a second of your ti–”

A loud bang suddenly reverberated across the living room, putting an end to the man’s rambling. There was a shocked expression on his face as blood dripped from his forehead down to the bridge of his nose. In a matter of seconds, his body was slumped against the living room’s carpet and silence ensued. 

Jimin slowly put his gun back into his holster and started drenching the place in gasoline. But you stood, completely confused by the last 5 minutes. 

“What was that?” You finally asked, watching him drown the body in gas.

But Jimin remained silent as he continued quickly.

“He said something about they betraying him first… I’m assuming ‘they’ are the Organisation, but whose blood did he have on his hands? And why did he say you knew something?”

Jimin threw the empty tank of gasoline to the corner of the room and brought out a lighter, flicking it so that a small fire burst from the metal opening. He threw it to the ground, watching as the fire spread throughout the room. 

The two of you made it out of the mansion, watching as it crumbled to the ground in a mixture of fire and smoke. And yet after all that, he didn’t utter a word. It made you a little frustrated.

“Jimin, I’m asking you somethin–”

“It’s nothing,” He interrupted. His voice hadn’t even been loud, but there was a firmness in it that silenced you immediately, “ I don’t know what he was talking about when he said I knew something. I don’t know whose blood is on his hands and why it’s so important. He was likely just speaking nonsense.”

Both his gaze and voice was firm as he said his next words.

“But we have nothing to be worried about, I promise.”

It took you about a week after the whole incident to forget that man and his weird words, as well as Jimin and his even weirder behaviour. But your uneasiness didn’t leave that easily. You couldn’t quite forget the tenseness of Jimin’s shoulders and the fear you had picked up on in his expression for just a millisecond of a moment. 

‘He knows, doesn’t he?!’

Was Jimin really hiding something from you? It was hard to believe considering how close the two of you were growing up. Yes, Jimin was a quiet and relatively private person, but you’ve always thought that you knew him better than others. 

Had you been wrong?

And you couldn’t even begin to decipher the rest of the things the man had said. He was clearly against the Organisation because… they betrayed him? But how could the Organisation owe him anything? The Organisation owes nothing to anyone. Not to people like you. Not to the world.

‘You know what is to come!’

Was something coming that the Organisation wasn’t aware about? Or was the Organisation planning something that you all, within the lower ranks of the Organisation, didn't know was coming?

You groaned, sending three bullets through the centres of the holographic targets in front of you. So much for forgetting that incident. 

And to your disappointment, Jimin hadn’t said a word about it at all since that day. Instead he continued to be his usual quiet self, like nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Though, you couldn’t help but notice his shoulders tense once or twice in your presence, like he was expecting you to say something. But ultimately, you knew that if he didn’t reveal anything that day, he wouldn’t reveal anything through begging. 

“Ms. Y/N,” a voice behind you called.

You turned around to see a man dressed in a business suit waiting for you at the entrance of the training room. He had sunglasses covering his eyes and a small black wire indicating the presence of an earpiece. Your eyebrows furrowed. 

You didn’t know who that was. 

The man bowed, ignoring your confusion.

“There is a mission briefing in room 314,” he announced, “please come with me.”

He started walking towards said room, but you hesitated. Mission briefings were announced through your earpieces, you’ve never been summoned through a person before. 

“I would advise that you pick up your pace, Ms. Y/N,” his voice came from the hallway, “we wouldn’t want to keep your partner waiting.”

The mention of Jimin had you groaning inwardly. He could very well be lying to lure you into the room and do whatever it was he, or his boss, was intending to do. But what could happen, anyway? This was the Organisation. They saw all, they knew all, and they controlled all. How could this man be doing anything against them in their own building?

So with those thoughts in mind, and also a little worry for Jimin, you started following the man to the room. It didn’t take long, one efficient elevator ride later had you entering a room labelled ‘314’ in no time.

It looked like any other briefing room, except it looked old. There was dust accumulating in its corners, an outdated television perched on the wall and a large desk in the middle of the room with empty chairs surrounding it. 

Your room scan finally revealed Jimin standing near the side, posture rigid and hands behind his back. It was how you all usually stood when talking to someone above you. 

“Please, take your position next to him,” a female voice called. 

You did as you were told before you looked in her direction, which was smart now that you had identified the source of the voice. 

The Leader’s daughter, Han Iseul, stood elegantly at the head of the room, just barely paying attention to the two of you as she sifted through a few documents in front of her. She was dressed in business casual clothes that hugged her skinny figure well while her makeup was sharp and precise. She was trying to be nonchalant, but you could see through her facade as easily as looking through water. When she wasn’t moving, you caught her stealing quick glances at Jimin here and then. 

You hadn’t been lying to Jimin when you said she had a crush on him, and this only confirmed that even more. It took a lot of self control to reel in your jealousy.

“I’ve called you here today to brief you on your new assignment,” she announced finally, placing the documents she had been reviewing before on the table in front of her, “I advise that you listen carefully.”

You’ve never heard of anyone being briefed by the Leader’s daughter before, it’s always been by your superiors who had direct contact with the Leader. They would always contact you through your earpiece, outlining the tasks you had to get done, and leave you and Jimin to do your job. It’s never been this excessive.

You suspected it might have had something to do with her little crush. Some sad attempt at getting closer to Jimin by briefing the two of you on one of your missions. She really must be whipped for him to pull something like this in such a strict organisation.

“The reason for the abnormality in your briefing today is due to the private nature of this mission,” she continued, eyeing the two of you, “this mission is to stay a secret even within the Organisation. The only ones you may mention it to are yourselves and me.”

“The task I am assigning you will require you to guard the transport of a particular cargo. The details of the cargo will not be provided, but it is imperative that this cargo make it to its destination. The transport itself will take about two days, both of which you will be on active duty. We will not risk transport at night, so the cargo will be transported to a secure location on the night between these two days.”

“Any questions?” She finally asked. 

When she didn’t get an answer she nodded, “you will leave in two hours. Please prepare your gear.”

With those words, she left the room, but not before stealing a glance at Jimin one last time. It made you want to throw a chair in her face, but you knew you had no right to.

Once she had fully left, you turned towards Jimin, who had been quiet this whole time.

“Cargo protection? Since when are we, aka assassins, responsible for protecting cargo?” 

“This isn’t the first time we’ve been tasked with a mission that does not involve killing someone,” he said, checking his watch for the results of his gear checkup and inventory stock. Jimin’s always been a stickler for the rules. It’s why he’s one of the best assassins in the Organisation. 

“I’ll never understand why we get missions outside of our scope,” you huffed, deciding to check your own inventory. Even though the mission itself sounded stupid, Iseul had made it sound otherwise, so it must have been important. You weren’t dumb enough to be sloppy on a mission like this.

The corners of Jimin’s lips twitched in a slight smile, “I’ve already restocked your inventory and gotten your gear up to date. Just focus on not accidentally shooting the target’s sister again.”

“That was one time!” You huffed, feeling slightly offended, “besides, I doubt we’ll be shooting at anyone in this mission.”

“Lucky for you.”

You punched him in the arm, earning you an amused chuckle. The sound had butterflies swirling in your stomach until a sudden thought struck them all down.

“So… you and Iseul must have waited a while for me,” you began, dreading the answer to your question already, “did you guys talk about anything?”

The room quieted before Jimin answered your question.

“Yes, we talked a bit.”

Your eyes widened and without thinking you blurted out, “wait, seriously?” 

You don’t know why that came as such a big surprise to you, he had agreed with the whole dating thing after all. But Jimin saying something and Jimin actually doing something were two different things. And now that something was actually happening, you couldn’t help but feel even worse than before.

“Nothing too specific,” he said, not giving much detail. But that’s the type of boyfriend you expected him to be, private when it came to his relationships, “just general stuff.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to ask him what ‘general’ meant. Did he mean general small talk? Or general dating stuff? Is that why Iseul was looking at him so much during the briefing? Did she realise that she finally had a chance with him? Or did Jimin already confess that he was willing to start a relationship with her? Were they already a couple?

You felt your throat start to close and tears prick the back of your eyes. 

Silly girl. Didn’t I tell you boys were not worth the time of day?

It’s been a while since your mother’s voice has made an appearance in your head. In fact, it’s been a while since you’ve even thought about her at all. She was a distant memory. You could barely even remember her face. But her words have never left your mind, and right now was proof of that.

“Y/N?” 

You looked up at Jimin, who was looking at you with a concerned expression. He must have been elated, knowing he would eventually become the husband of the Leader’s daughter. And here you were, a pathetic girl with a pathetic school girl crush. 

“I’m going to go double check my gear,” you managed to get out before making your way out of the room. 

You just hoped your voice didn’t betray how vulnerable your heart was. 

The breeze lashed at your hands and shoulders as you sped on your motorcycle at the first sign of dusk. In front of you stretched an empty highway owned specifically by the Organisation, while on your left was the truck carrying the cargo you had been tasked to protect. Outside of your view you knew Jimin, who was speeding on a motorcycle similar to yours, was likely on the other side of the truck. 

The two of you had been on the road for hours, silently taking in the scenery that zoomed by you. Missions usually weren’t like this. Usually, you’d be raving about the storyline of the new movie or television show you were watching recently while Jimin tried to understand with an amused expression.

But tonight, you couldn’t bring yourself to say much of anything. Iseul and Jimin’s relationship had only just started, and you already felt like a truck had run you over. You couldn’t imagine how it would be when they started getting more serious.

You shook your head in frustration, trying to get the thoughts out of your mind. Since when did you become that girl that was head over heels over a man? Why was it so hard for you to let him go?

“To your right,” you heard Jimin’s voice through your earpiece. For a second you thought he was alerting you of an attack, but when you looked to your right, you watched a bunch of horses running across an empty field together. It was enough to bring a smile to your face, watching them gallop freely. 

What must it feel like to be free?

“The holding facility is just a few metres ahead,” the voice of the cargo’s driver spoke from your earpiece, “once the cargo is safely transported there, the two of you can go on break until morning.”

You could hear Jimin’s voice agree along with yours as all three vehicles turned towards the highway’s exit. The more you all continued forward, the thicker the trees beside the road started to get until you and Jimin were forced to ride behind the truck. 

A few more metres later, a large facility appeared within the thicket of the forest, hidden well to anyone that wasn’t looking for it. Either way, a large metal gate stood between you three and the facility, ensuring no one could get inside unless they had clearance. 

All three vehicles came to a stop in front of the gate simultaneously. 

“I’ll send the message to headquarters that we’ve made it so that they unlock the gate and then I have to manually open it, so wait here and guard the cargo until I get back,” the truck’s driver said. You could feel his end of the line go silent as the truck’s door closed and he started making his way to a control panel that was likely out of sight. 

That left you and Jimin standing awkwardly next to each other as you waited for the driver to come back. You don’t think the two of you have ever been this uncomfortable with each other. 

Jimin seemed especially conflicted as his eyes flickered to your form every few seconds. Sometimes he’d open his mouth to say something, only to close it once again. 

It was literal torture, and after a few minutes, you just couldn’t take it anymore. 

You scanned the now dark area, desperate to do something other than marinate in the awkwardness. The trees surrounding you were endless and the sky exhibited a few interesting stars, but it was when you looked in front of you that you got an idea. 

“Let’s look inside,” you said suddenly, pointing towards the cargo.

Jimin, who initially seemed surprised by the fact that you spoke to him, processed your words with a horrified face, “what?” 

“Let’s see what’s inside this thing,” you repeated, slapping the giant metal crate, causing Jimin to flinch. You might have laughed at his horrified expression if you weren’t in such a sour mood. 

“Y/N, we can’t do that,” he hissed, reaching towards your arm to pull you away from the truck, but you dodged him easily. 

“We’re literally risking our lives protecting this thing, the least they can do is let us see what’s inside.”

“And what if they catch us?”

You shrugged, already working on the giant latch. Jimin tried to pull you down once again, but with no luck. 

“I mean it Y/N,” he said more firmly, “they could kill us.”

“Relax, I’ll take full blame for it if we do,” you replied, finally getting the latch off. 

“I don’t care about myself, I care about–” 

His voice faltered as the door of the crate finally swung open. It was dark, too dark to accurately make out what exactly was inside. Jimin felt his heart drop as you took a step into the metal box. 

“Y/N–” he tried again, but his eyes had finally adjusted to the darkness, and the crate’s contents could finally be deciphered.

“They’re… weapons?” You said, confusion clearly laced in your tone. 

The crate was stuffed with different kinds of weapons: guns, grenades, daggers, you name it. There had to be at least thousands of them, all neatly stacked so that no space was wasted within the crate. 

“What could they possibly need so many weapons for?” You thought out loud, scanning them all. 

The Organisation was not in need of any more weapons at all, which meant a restock was out of the question. So why were they transporting so many weapons?

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of heavy steps against the concrete. 

The driver was back.

You heard Jimin curse under his breath as he gently pushed you towards the crate’s door, “get it closed, I’ll distract him.”

Without another warning, he quickly made his way to the side of the truck, stopping the driver in his tracks with a conversation you couldn’t quite hear. But it didn’t matter as you struggled to get the heavy latch closed. 

“Dude we have to get this done before HQ thinks there’s something up,” you heard the annoyed voice of the driver get louder as he got closer to the back of the truck. 

Your arms tried to force the latch down so that it could lock again, but it wouldn’t budge. Only now were you starting to panic. When you turned to the side, the front of the driver’s shoe peeked from the corner of the crate. One step. Just one step more was all the driver had to take to see your form near an unlocked crate, simultaneously signing your death certificate in the process. 

“Wait!” Jimin suddenly yelled. 

The driver paused, looking back at him with confusion. You could still see his shoes around the corner, but with newfound adrenaline, you finally shoved the latch down, allowing it to lock in place. 

Your shoes just barely touched the ground when the driver turned the corner. He first scanned the crate, then you, and then Jimin, who looked like he had gone through ten different heart attacks in the span of a minute. 

“What the hell is going on here?” He asked, picking up on something odd. 

But you only shrugged, “I was peeing in the bushes and I guess Jimin wanted to save your eyes.”

The driver immediately scoffed in disgust.

“I’ll see you guys in the morning,” he said, getting back into the driver’s seat and driving the crate into the gates. 

Jimin was scowling at you, but it was nice not being the only one in a bad mood. 

“There’s a town nearby, let’s find a hotel there.”

Turns out the mentioned town was actually experiencing some kind of holiday, which meant crowds upon crowds of people swarmed the place. The good news was that crowds meant a less likely chance that you and Jimin would ever be remembered. The bad news was that the place was so crowded you two could only book a single hotel room for yourselves. 

Thankfully, the room itself was a suite, so the bedroom was separate from the common room, but that meant only one person could sleep on a bed. Considering the heart attack you gave Jimin earlier, you had insisted he take it, but Jimin, being the predictable man he was, wouldn’t have it. 

That left you staring up at the ceiling from the stiffly made bed while Jimin laid on the sofa in the common room. 

Despite the moonlight that shone into your dark room through the window curtains and the lulling sounds of the wall clock and AC, you couldn’t sleep. You’ve always had an issue with sleeping thanks to nightmares and likely some insomnia, but tonight seemed especially bad. Although you could usually sneak in a few minutes of sleep every hour or two, you could barely even manage to close your eyes now. 

You blamed Jimin, particularly his face, for your lack of sleep. Every time you felt your eyes close, you could see him staring back at you with his kind brown eyes and black parted hair. You could even remember him when you first met him, eyes wild with untamed emotions and long black hair. He had grown up so much since you met him, into someone that was intelligent but mature. Gentle but ruthless. Quiet but authoritative. It was his duality that you liked about him, because despite his extremes, he was still balanced. 

The mattress creaked under your weight as you shifted, eyes still focused on the ceiling. You couldn’t keep having thoughts like this if Jimin was going to start dating someone else. It would be unfair to him and his significant other, not to mention if Iseul found out about your feelings you have no doubt she’d have her father end you in a matter of seconds. You couldn’t tell whether it was funny or pathetic how the fear of death amounted to nothing in the face of hurting Jimin and his happiness. 

The sound of the door creaking open had you jerking upwards and reaching for the gun under your pillow, but you paused when you noticed Jimin’s hand on the door knob.

At the sight of you awake, he seemed to sigh in relief. 

“What is it?” You asked, as he made his way to the side of your bed. 

“Come on,” he said while his hand gently wrapped around your arm and pulled you up, “let’s watch a movie.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, but he didn’t give you a chance to protest as he guided you to the common room. When you made it to the television, you noticed two bowls of popcorn already sitting on the coffee table and the red and black colours of Netflix exhibited on the screen. 

Jimin let you down on the couch with your legs crossed before settling on the ground in front of it. You could feel his shoulder brush against your knee softly, and it took everything in you to keep the butterflies at bay. 

“Pick something,” he said, handing you the remote. Your body was on autopilot now, mindlessly shifting through movies and shows you had watched a bunch of times already. 

When you didn’t pick anything for a while, mostly because you were focusing more on pretending Jimin’s shoulder wasn’t pressing against your knee, he frowned.

“You’re mad at me.”

You felt yourself tense as he turned to look at you. 

“I don’t like it when you're mad at me.”

Your gaze couldn’t meet his, opting to continue looking through the Netflix catalogue instead. But Jimin gently took the remote from your hands, forcing your gaze back to him.

Why are you mad at me?

You could practically hear his next words, but to your surprise, his question was different from the one you were expecting.

“Do you remember when we first met?”

The scoff left you before you could stop it. Of course you remembered the most traumatic day of your life. 

“You mean the day you kidnapped me?” You deadpanned. 

Your tone had been more humorous than accusatory, but Jimin looked like you had shoved a knife in his chest. He nodded weakly, and it suddenly dawned on you that maybe that day had been just as traumatic for him as it had been for you. 

“That had been the day I had finally finished my first stage of training,” he started, looking straight ahead at the screen idly, “they used to have this mini ceremony when that happened, kind of like a kindergarten graduation. They gave me some cake. Told me that I would grow up to be useful to the Organisation. There was just one little thing I had to do.”

His shoulders tensed again, “I had to kidnap you from your home and bring you to the Organisation.”

“And despite not knowing what they would do to you, whether they would kill you or force you to join them, I agreed.”

His gaze fell to his hands, “your mother had never let you outside of the boundaries of your home a day in your life, like some real-life Rapunzel. I doubt she expected anyone to even know about your existence. It had been so easy to just break into your room one night, grab you and take you back to the Organisation.”

Jimin turned back to you, the moonlight illuminating the pain in his expression, “Y/N, you deserve someone better than me. Someone that doesn’t make selfish decisions. Someone that didn’t doom you to this life.” 

Your eyes were wide at his words. Despite this entire confession, there was only one thing that you could say.

“You know?” You realised incredulously, “you know about my feelings?”

You didn’t need an answer, it was already written all over his face. He was begging you to forget him, to ‘find someone better.’ This whole time he’s known while you had naively believed that you had been hiding your emotions from him successfully. You couldn’t tell whether you were embarrassed by that or just purely in shock. 

After the initial reaction wore off, and you could process what he was saying a little better, you furrowed your eyebrows, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t be stuck in this organisation, forced to kill and stay obedient. You could’ve had a life, Y/N, but I took it away from you.”

You raised an eyebrow, “what life? Another decade trapped in the confines of my mother’s home? Knowing her, I doubt she would’ve let me out of there anytime soon. Besides, if you had refused, they would have just gotten someone else to do it. I’m glad I at least got someone like you, who's been with me and supported me every step of the way.”

But Jimin still shook his head, barely hearing a word you were saying. You never realised just how deeply he still thought about that whole ordeal. Aside from a few nightmares every now and then, you didn’t think about it much anymore. You had already suspected that Jimin had been forced into it, so you had never even held it against him either. But it was clear it was still a big deal for him. 

You sighed.

“What about before the Organisation?”

Jimin let a hand run through his hair, reliving the memories of his childhood, “I’ve been an orphan for as long as I can remember. I jumped between a lot of foster homes and orphanages, but ultimately I ran away. Even the streets were better than most of those places. The Organisation managed to grab me when I was living there. Obviously since I didn’t have a family no one really cared, so I guess I made a perfect target.”

You tilted your head, “and you’re still going on and on about being selfish and dooming me? You were a child they had taken advantage of. If you had refused to kidnap me, you would have failed that task. And we all know what happens when you fail a task in the Organisation.”

The faces of numerous children you had grown up with came to mind, all of which had failed in some way or another, and all of which had never been seen again. The Organisation wasn’t just some teaching school that reprimanded you when you did wrong. It was unforgiving and bloodthirsty, and even the youngest of children knew that.

Jimin’s gaze remained forward as you let him swim in his own thoughts for a moment. You hoped he was at least starting to let go of the guilt that’s been seemingly eating away at him for years. It hurt to see him in so much pain.

“I should’ve stopped them.”

“Then you’d be dead.”

“I should’ve refused them.”

“It wouldn’t have made a difference.”

“You deserve better than me, Y/N.”

“That’s my decision to make, don’t you think?”

He was silent once again, watching the different shows flash on the screen. You could still see his shoulders tensed and a pained expression on his face. Though he might have been slightly convinced, you could tell he still felt uneasy. 

Slowly, you sank down to the floor next to him, earning you a confused look. But before he could refuse, you wrapped your arms around his torso, pulling him closer to you in the process. Jimin paused for a moment, clearly surprised by the sudden action, but after a moment, you felt his arms hesitantly surround your form as well. 

“You’re the only reason I’m still alive today, Jimin. I would have never been able to survive the Organisation’s training if you hadn’t spent day and night teaching me. You’ve always been by my side every step of the way, not just as a partner, but as a friend. So please don’t hurt yourself with guilt, you have nothing to be guilty for.”

You felt Jimin pull you closer as he rested his head on top of yours. It was almost desperate, like he was afraid you’d disappear at any moment. 

“I like you too, you know that?” He said suddenly, “no matter how crazy you drive me sometimes, I’ll always care about you. I promise.”

You pushed yourself off him, scanning his face with wide eyes, “But what about Iseul? Didn’t you guys… talk? Don’t you like her?”

Jimin chuckled, “no, we did not talk and no, I do not like her.”

“Then why did you say you did?”

His expression became sad as he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear delicately, “because as much as we both want this, it can’t happen.”

Your gaze dropped to the floor, letting silence engulf the moonlit living room. He wasn’t wrong. The Organisation had banned any romantic or sexual relationships between members a long time ago, and breaking those rules unsurprisingly resulted in the punishment of death. Jimin’s confession changed nothing.

But that didn’t make his confession meaningless. If it wasn’t for the Organisation, the two of you could have had a life together. You could have loved each other freely, under no one’s terms. For the first time in a long time you felt a familiar anger towards the Organisation. For stealing you away from your home, and forcing you to do their dirty work while staying obedient to their rules. You were nothing but their slave, and one step out of line would cost you your life without a second thought. 

And the worst part was that there was nothing you could do about it. The organisation didn’t lie when they said they saw, knew and controlled everything. It was terrifying how deep their branches ran in the network of society. They lurked in the shadows of the law, swam in the dealings of businesses, controlling them quietly while people went about their lives cluelessly. They could probably watch the two of you right now if they wanted to, with no repercussions whatsoever. 

You didn’t realise your hand had curled into a shaking fist until Jimin’s fingers brushed against it slowly. He let his fingers interlace with yours, calmly caressing the back of your palm with his thumb. 

“It’s unfair,” you said, like a child throwing a tantrum, but Jimin only nodded his head. 

“I mean, why us? There are so many people in this world living their own lives, completely unaware of the Organisation's mere existence. Yet, we had to be one of the few unfortunate people stuck under their cruelty. Where’s our justice?”

Jimin pulled you into his arms once again. He had no words of comfort for you, but then again, what comfort could you give two birds in a cage when you knew they had no chance of escape. There was no justice for people like you. The ones who worked in the shadows died in the shadows after all. 

Your eyes widened as you suddenly felt his lips brush against your forehead lightly, causing your stomach to do backflips. Even though it was only for a brief moment, they felt so soft and loving on your skin that you knew you’d forever remember this moment for the rest of your life. 

But his kiss didn’t just feel like an act of comfort, it also felt like a little act of rebellion. Like it didn’t matter that the Organisation had banned relationships because Jimin was choosing to kiss you anyway. It made you selfishly happy, despite the risk it posed for the two of you. 

You jumped out of Jimin’s arms, happy to see a similar smile perched on his lips as you grabbed the remote. 

“Funny but wholesome, with a side of angst,” you announced, “I know exactly what we need.”

You sifted through a few titles before clicking on one of the best movies of all time.

Jimin’s eyebrows furrowed as he watched the loading screen pop up, “is that a panda? Are we going to watch some kid’s show?”

But you simply covered his mouth with your hand as you grabbed one of the popcorn bowls and  leaned your head against his shoulder. 

“Do not attempt to put down Kung Fu Panda, it will only bring you dishonour and shame.”

Jimin shook his head with a chuckle as he pulled you closer into him. What you didn’t know was that he didn’t really care what you put on the large screen. 

In the end, his focus would be on you every time.

The next morning, the two of you were back on the road speeding through the freeway. The landscape had changed from grassy lands and animal farms to vast fields of beige dirt and rocky mountains. As if reflecting the sorry state of the scenery, the weather was also dreary, with thick grey clouds and the smell of a thunderstorm brewing. It didn’t seem to be an immediate threat, but you made a note to keep an eye on it in case it became an obstacle to the transport. 

While yesterday was filled with awkward silence, today’s silence was comfortable and calm. Images of last night flashed in your mind once in a while, of Jimin’s arms around you and his soft lips against your temple. Even though it made you as giddy as a school girl, you couldn’t bring yourself to be embarrassed about it. 

But there was also this new feeling of grief weaving through the muscles of your heart, weighing your limbs down so that every movement took just a little more effort than before. It was the mourning of what could have been that brought on such a response. Of the life you and Jimin could have had if you both weren’t shackled to the Organisation in inescapable iron chains. You’d learned to live with the reality of your fate, but now that you knew the value of what they had truly taken away from you, you were finding it harder and harder to maintain such a mindset.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the voice of the driver, who announced your arrival at the final destination. The facility that finally came into view was almost identical to the facility you all had stopped at last night, except this one was at least three times larger. As the three vehicles approached the gate, you watched it automatically open, allowing the three of you to drive through effortlessly. 

Once you made it inside the facility itself, the driver bid you both farewell, turning to drop off the cargo wherever he had been instructed to. There was no reason to meet up again considering your task was done, so it was safe to say you wouldn’t be seeing him again anytime soon. 

That left you and Jimin standing idly in the centre of the warehouse, in awe at its size and the diversity in equipment surrounding the two of you. The walls were lined with dozens of giant computers, while the corners were filled with tables holding various blueprints and documents. 

It was a little… messy compared to the Organisation’s normally strict and organised style. The computers were all mismatched and some of the documents had even fallen to the floor. They would never be so careless with their equipment. 

“We should get going,” Jimin said, taking in the unusual setup as well. But following the rules had always come more naturally to him than you. 

Then again, it was important that assassins be ready for the next mission immediately after completing one. And with the intimate moment that happened last night, you were thinking maybe you shouldn’t test the Organisation’s patience too much. 

You sighed, trudging reluctantly behind Jimin as he started making his way towards the exit. Your mind was whirling with theories that attempted to explain what was going on here and why. The only explanation you had was that they were in a hurry responding to something, causing them to be hasty in their actions. Could this tie into what your target in the mansion had said? Was there really something coming? But then why would he tell the two of you to rebel and run away? Was he indicating that this would be the only opportunity to do it?

Jimin pulled the large door open, waiting for you to pass through, and you were about to do just that when your gaze suddenly caught a flash of light near the corner of the room, hidden behind one of the computers. Even though it was dull, it was still bright and enough to trigger your curiosity. 

Jimin’s gaze followed your own until it landed on the light as well. His expression suddenly aged like 10 years on the spot. 

“Y/N, no.”

But you were already walking through the concrete floor, determined to figure out the source of such an abnormality. As you got closer, another computer came into view, bigger and more importantly, already turned on. The dull light had been coming from its screen. 

Jimin’s eyes widened at the discovery, “what are you going to do, break into their computer? We should leave, Y/N.”

“It’s not ‘breaking in’ if the computer is already on,” you reasoned, “besides, don’t you want to know what’s going on here?”

He just shook his head, “we could get in trouble for this.”

Before you could reply, the screen suddenly dulled, indicating that it would turn off in a few seconds. You rushed to it and moved around the mouse, causing the screen to brighten once again. 

With the mouse underneath your fingers, you couldn’t help but snoop around the files a bit, opening them at random to look for anything interesting. Despite his earlier words, Jimin peeked from behind your shoulder, scanning the contents of the screen. You had to ignore the press of his body against your back. 

After one particular click, you noticed a file that seemed a lot larger than the rest. When you opened it, you felt your eyebrows furrow. 

Dozens of blueprints began to fill the screen. At first, you couldn’t recognise what they were illustrating, but then you started to notice a few familiar layouts here and there. 

“They’re blueprints for the Organisation’s building,” you muttered.

You clicked another file that revealed all the timetables of the Organisation’s higher ups down to even the Leader. Next to every name that popped up were red flashing letters spelling ‘optimal timings.’ Curious, you clicked on one of them.

Your eyes widened when a full page suddenly popped up. Within it were all the timings in which the Leader was vulnerable in one way or another: when he dismissed his bodyguards, when he was in public, when he was alone, etc. And every timing was accompanied by the most efficient ways to kill him. You clicked through all the other red inscriptions, taking in the well-thought out and very achievable schemes that could very much have all the higher ups of the Organisation dead. 

“They’re planning a hit on all the Organisation’s higher ups,” Jimin concluded, “but why would the Organisation want to harm itself like that.”

You thought back to the unusual way you and Jimin had been summoned for this mission. 

‘The reason for the abnormality in your briefing today is due to the private nature of this mission.’

‘This mission is to stay a secret even within the Organisation.’

“Because it’s not the Organisation that’s planning all this,” you realised, “it’s Han Iseul, the Leader’s own daughter.”

The two of you stood in silence for a moment, letting the discovery fully process in your mind. It was the only explanation that made sense, at least to you. But why? The only thing you knew about the Leader’s daughter was that she was largely ignored by the Leader and the Organisation. She didn’t really have any responsibilities, but being the Leader’s daughter, she had an image of purity and power to uphold so that her father didn’t look weak. Maybe she was tired of being nothing but a puppet? You knew you could relate to that. 

You turned towards Jimin, “is this what the man in the mansion had been talking about? What you knew about, but didn’t tell me.”

No.

He hadn’t said anything, but the answer was written all over his face. Jimin looked just as shocked and confused as you did, which had you even more confused than before. There were just too many things happening right now, too many mysteries popping up just as old ones were uncovered. You’re pretty sure your head was hurting from all the thinking you were putting it through. 

But then you realised the weight of your discovery. The Leader’s daughter was staging a coup of some sort in the Organisation. Whether it would be successful or not, it was clearly going to be a big event, one the Organisation wouldn’t see coming. What if you and Jimin could take advantage of that? During all the chaos and battling, what if…

“What if we ran away?” You whispered, as if afraid the Organisation would hear you if you spoke any louder. 

Jimin’s face snapped towards you in surprise. The mere thought of defying the Organisation had you shaking down to the bone, and you were sure he was no stranger to the fear you were experiencing right now. But this could be your ticket to freedom, an opportunity to finally be free from the clutches of the Organisation and their tyranny. 

If not then, it would be never. 

You watched Jimin’s mouth open only for it to close when a buzzing sound came from your earpiece. 

“L/N Y/N, announce your presence,” a stern automated voice stated. 

You internally groaned, knowing the Organisation already had a mission ready for you. 

Your response was in harmony with Jimin’s as he also confirmed his presence, no doubt hearing the Organisation in his own earpiece as well. The two of you stood idly, waiting for the outline of your new assignment.

“Your next mission will consist of the following task,” the stern voice continued, completely devoid of emotion, “Within the next half an hour, beginning at the exact moment this call ends, you must eliminate your target and dispose of the body effectively. Your target is as assigned:”

There was a pause as the database searched for the target that had been assigned to you, before your heart dropped.

“Park Jimin.”

The familiar click of the line going dead had never sounded so deafening in your ears. Your limbs were still with tension as you tried to process words that felt like they were closing in on you, suffocating the last remnants of any breath left in your lungs. 

‘Park Jimin’

You had to kill Park Jimin

The man that’s been there for you since day one, the reason you're standing here today. Your assignment was to end his life so that you could never gaze upon him again. 

You slowly turned to Jimin, expecting his expression to mirror your own. But instead, his lips were pulled into a taut line while his gaze was aimed straight ahead of him. That was when you realised that Jimin’s expression wasn’t that of shock, it was one of resignation. 

He knew. This is what he had been hiding, what he had known and kept from you this whole time. You wanted to ask him so many questions. How did he know? Why was this happening?

But you could only force out one sentence.

“I have to kill you.”

Jimin’s gaze lifted to your face, and you realised his eyes were drowning in unshed tears. When he spoke, it was hesitant and full of suffering.

“I have to kill you too.”

While your earpiece had called for Jimin’s assassination, his had called for yours. It was clear now that the Organisation wanted a battle. They wanted you and Jimin to fight to the death, and only the successor would be allowed to continue serving them till they too met their end. 

You didn’t know why the Organisation had made the decision. Was it because of last night? Was it because of your mention of running away? 

But it didn’t matter anymore, did it? The plan was over. If one of you weren’t dead in the next 28 minutes, both of you would be killed for your failure. You couldn’t wait for Iseul’s coup to run away anymore. 

It was over. 

You brought out your dagger, an unfamiliar tremor making it hard to hold it firmly. Jimin was the better fighter of the two of you, there was no doubt that it would be your body buried today. The thought of death terrified you, but somehow, dying by Jimin’s blade didn’t seem as scary. At least he would live, even if life under the Organisation was just another form of death itself. You’d gladly give your life if it meant Jimin could live on. 

But a battle is what the Organisation wanted, and just like everything else, a battle is what the Organisation had to get.

You lunged, swinging your dagger straight towards Jimin’s neck. His hand was on his own dagger in a matter of a second and, just as you expected, he deflected your attack easily with the swing of his arm. You expected him to target your armed hand while you jumped back, but instead, he went for your torso, which you dodged easily. 

The next 10 minutes were spent in a dance of dodges and attacks. Anytime your blade came close to even nicking his skin, you felt your heart beat in fear as you quickly changed the trajectory of your dagger. The sound of daggers clanging against each other reverberated around the warehouse, but the red of spilt blood never came.

Your eyebrows furrowed as another one of Jimin’s attacks failed to even scratch your skin. You didn’t understand what was taking him so long to end this. There wouldn’t be much time left to take care of the body within the Organisation's time limit, yet, his attacks were uncoordinated and weak while his dodges were reluctant. 

You went for another attack with your dagger pointed straight towards his ribcage, expecting him to dodge it easily, but Jimin angled his dagger in the opposite direction. Instead of your dagger being deflected into the space to his right, your dagger deflected to his left. You watched in horror as your dagger plunged into the side of his arm before you could pull away.

“What the hell are you doing?!”

You jerked your blade back so that it couldn’t dig any deeper into his skin. His blood dripped from the silver tip to the dusty warehouse’s ground, creating a small pool of blood. 

Jimin’s blood.

You’ve been exposed to blood and gore since you were a child and then all throughout your life, but the sight of his blood already had your stomach churning uneasily. 

Aside from a small grimace, Jimin’s expression was unreadable. No anger. No resentment. Just a slight downturn of the corner of his lips, the one he always made when he was in pain. 

Before you could yell at him, Jimin raised his blade and swung towards your shoulder. Sudden panic took over as you raised your dagger to dodge it so that his blade would deflect to the side of your shoulder. Instead, as Jimin’s dagger clanged against yours, he twisted his wrist, literally disarming himself with your blade. 

His weapon clattered to the ground not too far away from your figure, yet he made no effort to retrieve it. Only then did you realise that he hadn’t been putting effort into this fight as a whole. None of his attacks were legitimate and his dodges were just barely keeping him alive. 

Jimin was letting himself lose. 

“No.”

You grabbed his blade from the ground and shoved it into his hand, but Jimin just let it drop to the floor. A sudden burst of anger flared in your chest as you watched his attempt at giving up. 

“Why aren’t you fighting me?” 

You grabbed the dagger once again and tried to make him take it, but the dagger clattered to the ground once again. 

“Why aren’t you fighting me, Park Jimin?!” You yelled, shoving his shoulder. He didn’t even stumble from the action, instead he just stood silently, watching your anger slowly rise.

You went to shove him again, only for his hand to enclose around your wrist and pull you closer, causing you to crash into his chest. A warmth you couldn't quite explain spread all around you as his arms suddenly surrounded your form. If it was possible for a heart to be ripped into two, you were sure you could feel it happening in your chest. Jimin’s warmth was just as comforting as it was heartbreaking, and soon you felt your anger morph into sobs. Your tears started to stain his uniform, but Jimin made no attempt to push you away. 

“We both know who the winner of this fight is, so just get it over with,” you whispered against his chest, praying for it to be quick. But Jimin shook his head. 

“Last time I checked, I’m the one that’s disarmed and injured,” he whispered back. You immediately dropped your weapon and let your hand stroke his injured arm. The cut wasn’t deep enough to be anything major, and yet it felt like your own arm was ripping apart at the sight of it. 

“Please,” you begged in desperation, “there isn’t much time left.”

“You’re right.”

Jimin grabbed the abandoned dagger from the ground and placed it in your hand, enclosing his own fingers around yours so that the dagger couldn’t clatter to the floor. You watched in confusion as he sank to his knees in front of you and then sobbed as he brought the dagger closer to him until it was right next to his neck. You tried to pull away, but his firm grip on your hand wouldn’t let you. 

“I knew that they would give us these orders one day,” he began while letting his other hand squeeze your unoccupied palm gently, “Before I had to kidnap you, I wasn’t that great at following the rules, and because of that I ended up overhearing an unspoken tradition that went on in the Organisation. Usually, they made partners fight to the death after years of service so that only the best stayed in the Organisation.”

“After you became my partner I realised that I didn’t want to participate in such a tradition. So after a little snooping around, I managed to hear about one or two instances where each partner was so good that the Organisation didn’t want to lose even one of them, so they had decided not to make them kill each other. I thought I could train us to be that good, so that we wouldn’t have to go through this, but I guess I messed up somewhere.”

You wanted to tell him that it wasn’t his fault. That, in the end, all the blame fell on the Organisation. That you were thankful for him and everything he’s done for you. But the words stuck in your throat as you continued to sob. 

Jimin brought the dagger closer to his neck, “I’m sorry baby, you’ll need to continue without me from now on.”

Tears continued to stream down your cheeks, “no, no, please, don’t make me do this.”

“I know it’s going to be hard, but I promise you’ll overcome it quickly,” he continued with damp eyes and a pained smile, “you just have to push this dagger forward and it’ll all be over.”

You shook your head repeatedly, unable to speak because of your closed throat. What he was asking was impossible. You could never even think of doing it. 

“It’s okay,” Jimin stopped squeezing your palm so that he could hold your hand instead, grip still strong in his other as he ensured your hand was clasped around the dagger, “you can do it. Just one push and it’s all over, I promise.”

You knew why he was so adamant about you being the one to kill him. 

‘You must eliminate your target and dispose of the body effectively.’

To successfully accomplish the task, or in other words end up not getting killed by the Organisation, one of you had to kill the other. Any other form of death wouldn’t be accepted. 

But if Jimin expected you to actually be able to go through with this, he was mistaken. You don’t think your hand could move in such a way even if you tried to command it. Jimin had been by your side for years. He’s the only one that’s genuinely ever cared for you, even taking your life before the Organisation into account. If you were being honest with yourself, you loved him. And although you would do anything for him, you couldn’t do this. No matter how much he wanted you to do it. 

Jimin must have taken your silence for acceptance because you felt his grip slowly loosen so that you could push the dagger forward. But the second he did, you pulled the dagger out of his grasp and threw it far away from you. It felt like a hot iron had been removed from your hand. 

You dropped to your knees in front of him, mimicking his position as a look of surprise took over his expression.

You knew you could never willingly kill Jimin and you knew Jimin would never willingly kill you. And ironically, that would just result in the Organisation killing you both. If the two of you were technically already dead…

Why not try something crazy?

Jimin cupped your face gently, letting his thumbs brush the tears from your cheeks. You spoke up before he could change your mind. 

“What if we ran away?” 

The question was an echo from the conversation you had earlier, only this time the chance of success was much lower. In fact, there was probably no chance at all and even Jimin knew it.

“There’s no distraction, Y/N,” he said, shaking his head, “the Organisation is focused on us now. There’s no way we can get away with it.”

“But what if we can,” you countered, “think about it. The Organisation abducted us all when we were children, in other words, young and gullible. They’ve drilled the idea into our minds that they cannot be defeated and are all-powerful ever since then so that none of us would ever dare to go against them even when we got older. But what if that’s not how it really is? What if… they're not as powerful as they say they are?”

You knew that wasn’t entirely true. The Organisation was powerful, and you’ve seen the proof of that with your own eyes. But the more you thought about it, the more it made sense. They’ve always used fear as a weapon for obedience, especially when you were children. It’s why you felt yourself shake at the mere thought of rebelling and why the thought has never even crossed your mind. Without fear, how much power did they really have?

Jimin’s gaze was focused on you as he mulled over your words. 

“We’re not going to kill each other, we both know neither of us can do it. So why not just take a chance? We’re dead anyway. Maybe this way we could actually have a life together.”

The chances of that were very low, and you knew Jimin knew that as well. But you were surprised to eventually see a slight nod in his head. 

“We have 5 minutes left,” he announced, referring to the amount of time left before the Organisation would come and finish the task that they had called for. 

He stood, pulling you along with him, but his hand didn’t leave yours even when you were standing upright beside him. 

“We’ll take our bikes and start heading North. I think I have an idea of where we should go,” he picked up both the daggers and handed you yours, “we’ll have to cut out our trackers.”

You nodded, already expecting as much. 

Jimin took your arm in his hands while you took his. The trackers were cut out and thrown to the floor in a matter of seconds, both of you hissing a bit at the slight sting of your cuts. But they weren’t deep, and that’s all that mattered. 

After ditching your earpieces as well, the two of you hastily made your way out of the warehouse to find a storm thrashing at the rocky terrain. The initially dry and dusty landscape was now damp due to the merciless rain and the roads seemed dangerously slippery. Thankfully, the weather would make it harder for the Organisation to track your motorcycle trails. 

This time, the two of you wordlessly hopped onto a single motorcycle rather than separate ones. Aside from the rain, one motorcycle would be a lot harder to track than two. You let Jimin drive, opting instead to wrap your arms around him from behind as he sped through the road at the cycle’s maximum speed. Rather than feel fazed by the speed, you could only feel comfort in Jimin’s warmth. 

“You seem to be enjoying yourself back there,” Jimin chuckled, which made you raise an eyebrow.

You chuckled along with him, “since when were you so brazen?” 

“Since the Organisation isn’t holding me back now.”

It made you feel better that you weren’t the only one harbouring some intense feelings all these years. Even though they didn’t get very intense until the last few years, it still sucked sometimes thinking that they were unrequited. But knowing that Jimin felt the same kind of made those times worth it, in a weird unexplainable way. 

Eventually, a tree here and there started to pop up until they morphed into a thick forest. At one point, you were sure you saw some of the Organisation issued motorcycles through the thicket of the forest, clearly speeding through another road in the opposite direction as the two of you. 

“We’re going back,” you realised, “we’re going back to the hotel.”

You could just barely make out the nod of Jimin’s head. The sun had fully set now, and combined with the thunderstorm it was practically impossible to see in front of you. 

It made sense to go back. The Organisation wouldn’t expect you two to be anywhere near it or near any recent mission areas considering they were too predictable. They would likely focus on the areas that were farther away from them, thinking that’s where you would be hiding. 

Thankfully your destination didn’t take too long to show up after the forest thickened. Soon enough, you were checking into the same hotel and even the same room you stayed in the other night. 

Immediately, you crashed back first onto the couch, groaning at the feeling of finally relaxing your muscles. Your day had definitely been more emotionally exhausting than physically by a long shot, which was probably why you felt so drained. Jimin gently sat next to you, adjusting your head so that it was resting comfortably in his lap. 

“We should be able to stay here and get some rest for a few hours before they find us,” Jimin said, letting his hand run through your hair delicately. 

“Then I guess that gives us enough time to come up with a plan,” you said, already racking your brain for the possibilities. You sat up and crossed your legs on the couch while facing Jimin. 

“What do you think?”

Jimin thought for a moment before speaking, “we can lay low for a while, just until they stop looking for us. Then when we get an opening, we move to the countryside.”

You shook your head.

“They’ll find us eventually, whether we live in the city or countryside. What if we completely change our identities? You know, plastic surgery, new passports– all that? Then we can even blend into a city.”

But Jimin shook his head as well, “they’d still find us. Changing identities always leaves a trail.”

There was a beat of silence as the realisation suddenly hit you. 

“Then… we’ll have to leave the country.”

The thought of leaving the country made your heart feel heavy. This was where you were born, where you were raised and became the person you were. Sure, your upbringing was pretty crappy, but nostalgia was nostalgia, wasn’t it?

Slowly, Jimin nodded his head, no doubt going over all the possible options in this situation. You’d still have to get new identities and live in the countryside even in the new country, but it was your best bet. 

“I know for sure the Organisation doesn’t have any ties in Canada,” Jimin thought out loud, absentmindedly brushing his hand against your thigh, “the country itself is huge and a lot of it hasn’t been urbanised just yet. It would be the perfect place to run away to.”

You didn’t know much about the Organisation’s reach internationally, but it didn’t surprise you that they had some control even outside the country. If Canada really was one of the countries that was outside their reach, you could easily hide there. 

There was silence after that. The two of you had been partners for so long that you already knew the rest of the plan without even having to speak it. You’d spend a few hours in the hotel room and rest until around midnight, where you’d get up and make your way to the airport. Hopefully, the Organisation wouldn’t catch up to you while you boarded and left the country for good. 

There were so many things that could go wrong. So many ways the Organisation could get to you and yet, for once you didn’t feel scared. You and Jimin were as good as dead anyway, but now there was hope for a new life. You’ve always thought of hope as a dangerous thing, but now, it’s never made you happier. 

Your hand found Jimin’s, letting yourself intertwine your fingers with his before shifting closer to him. Jimin smiled as he wrapped his arms around you the same way he had done last night. 

Being part of the Organisation since you were 9 had ensured you’ve never had any kind of romantic relationship with anyone before, to the point that just sitting here in Jimin’s arms had your heart beating out of your chest. This was all such unfamiliar territory for you. The only thing that could guide you were all the movies you’ve watched, but you were old enough to know movies weren’t a very accurate representation of real life. 

“The first time I realised that I may have feelings for you was during the Lockley mission,” Jimin said suddenly, immediately piquing your interest. You swung your legs over his and made a little show of getting comfy to encourage him to continue. 

That made Jimin chuckle.

“It had been right when Lockley had turned the tables on us and pulled a gun on you while he had taken you hostage. I remember feeling so panicked, not the kind of panic you feel when a friend is in danger, but so much worse than that. It felt like his gun was resting on my head and, for the first time in a long time, my mind went blank with fear.”

Both your hands wrapped around his as you noticed a slight tremor in them. 

You remember that mission. You and Jimin didn’t anticipate that Lockley, your target, had been expecting the two of you, and because of that he had managed to grab you and put a gun to your head before any of you knew what was happening. He had created a hostage situation so that he could buy himself enough time to get out of there before you and Jimin could kill him like the Organisation had ordered. Thankfully, Jimin had managed to save you, but not before Lockley’s gun went off and instead hit you below the ribs.

Jimin continued as his other hand rested on your leg, “then when you had gotten shot, it was like my heart stopped beating. I couldn’t even let you go when the surgeons had arrived because the thought of losing you terrified me. That’s when I knew that how I felt about you was not as simple as I thought it was.”

“Since the Lockley’s mission…” you thought, “that was almost 5 years ago.”

He’s liked you for the last 5 years and you hadn’t even noticed, probably too busy trying to hide your own feelings from him. 

“Maybe it’s my fault we’re in this situation,” he said uncharacteristically, “I didn’t hide my feelings well enough last night and now our lives are on the line.” 

Jimin has never been one to dwell on ‘what ifs’ and ‘maybes,’ he always made sure that what he spoke was useful and relevant. Otherwise he was silent. It was you that often spoke your mind, broke the rules, and gave him heart attacks. He’s done everything to keep you safe, and now here he was blaming himself for what you were starting to realise was probably your fault.

“If anything, I’m probably the reason we’re in this situation,” you thought out loud, “let’s face it Jimin, I’m not exactly good enough for them to make an exception in a tradition that has been upheld for years. They were going to order us to kill each other, regardless of what happened last night.”

You just wish Jimin didn’t have to suffer for your shortcomings. He could have lived if he had killed you when the Organisation had ordered it, probably would have been sleeping in his bed back at the base right now. It was only because of you that he’d dropped everything, sacrificed his life, just to be here with you.

As if reading your thoughts, Jimin immediately brought up his hand to cup your cheek before taking a breath, “no, don’t ever blame yourself for something that isn’t your fault.”

“But-”

“Even though the situation isn’t exactly ideal, I don’t regret trying to protect you. Because no matter how bad everything is right now, nothing makes me happier than being able to hold you like this after years of believing I’ll never get the chance.”

His hand felt warm against your cheek as you looked at him, his own gaze focused on your eyes. You felt the same; even though you’ve been doing everything the Organisation had ordered to keep your life, you’ve never felt more alive until today. Jimin’s touches and words, no matter how small, were electrifying and you found yourself wondering how you’ve been living without them for so many years. 

You noticed his gaze flicker down to your lips for a moment before moving back up to your eyes. The action made you heat, and probably would have been enough to make you look away in embarrassment if it wasn’t for your own gaze that was now focused on his plump lips. 

“Y/N?” 

“Hm?” You said absentmindedly, trying to force your gaze back up to his eyes.

“Can I kiss you, baby?”

Baby

Your stomach exploded with butterflies at the nickname as your cheeks became hot. The prospect of kissing Jimin, combined with that nickname, suddenly had you panicking to the point that you couldn’t help but blurt out the first thing that came to mind. 

“You called me that before.”

Jimin’s head tilted in confusion for a moment, put off by the sudden comment. It gave you time to try, and fail, at lowering your raging heart and mind. 

“Back at the warehouse,” you explained, trying to focus on your words rather than how close his face was to yours and how foggy it was making your brain, “when you were trying to get me to kill you, you called me baby.”

Jimin studied you for a moment, gaze dropping to your slightly shaky hands still enveloping his and then back to your face, before suddenly shifting your positions. In a matter of seconds, you were straddling his lap while both his hands gently cupped your face. The position was different, it made you feel more in control of whatever was happening. 

You could feel the warmth from Jimin’s chest seep into your own at the new proximity. For as long as you could remember he’s been your warmth and comfort, but experiencing this side of him gave the two words a completely new definition. You wanted to experience more, go as far as humanly possible- but with him, only with him. 

“You’re dodging the question, Y/N,” he whispered, as if not to break the silence. 

Your faces were so close to each other that you could feel your breaths mingling. The closeness felt oddly calming, helping you focus a little better. But you didn’t need much of your brain right now anyway. You knew what you wanted. There was no more need for thinking anymore. 

“Can I–”

Before Jimin could finish, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him towards you, finally connecting your lips with his. 

A comfortable warmth burst inside your chest as Jimin immediately sunk into the kiss, letting you feel his soft and plump mouth in the process. You couldn’t describe the feelings you were experiencing. Everytime his lips glided over yours, your chest tightened with want for more. Your hands found themselves in Jimin’s hair, tugging every once in a while and subsequently earning you a pleased groan. 

One of his hands dropped to your waist, pulling you closer as his tongue moved your lips apart to let himself into your mouth. It was no question that he was the one dominating this kiss right now, but you didn’t mind at all. You were just trying not to self combust under all the new emotions you were experiencing for the first time. 

Jimin’s hand, which was now resting on your waist, continued to pull you flush against his chest.  The movement caused him to groan, and he suddenly pulled you away from him. 

“How far do you want to go tonight?” He said through laboured breaths.

It took you a second to notice the obvious want in his eyes and then another to process the fact that he had asked a question.

“As far as we can,” you said, “I want every part of you, Jimin.”

Jimin smiled before he connected with your lips once again. This time, one of your hands raised to brush your fingers through his hair. He moaned, causing his lips to disconnect with yours. Instead they found a spot near your neck, allowing him to send open mouthed kisses all over your throat.

You felt yourself being gently pushed until the soft couch connected with your back. Jimin hovered over you, continuing to mark your neck and collarbone with his lips. His torso, which was now slotted between your legs, pushed you deeper against the couch, causing you to moan. The movement had your heart rate racing once again. 

“Wait,” you said suddenly.

Jimin immediately paused, putting some space between the two of you, but the arms wrapped around his neck kept him in place. 

“I’ve never done this before.”

Sexual relationships were also strictly banned in the Organisation. And since you started at 9, it was no surprise that you were still a virgin at your age. You wouldn’t be surprised if Jimin was still one as well. 

It wasn’t that you were scared of having sex with Jimin, but it was the idea of the unknown that scared you more. You didn’t entirely know how to pleasure him, or even yourself. Knowing that you’ll never have sex, you never really bothered to research the specifics, but now you were really regretting that decision. You felt unprepared. 

Noticing the uncertainty on your face, Jimin’s expression softened, “do you want to stop?”

“No,” you answered immediately, “I just… I don’t…”

You struggled to find the words, but Jimin being Jimin didn’t need much explanation. He intertwined his fingers with yours before placing a kiss over the scar you had gotten from the Lockley incident. 

“I haven’t either,” he admitted, “but don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

That made you smile. Of course he will. Park Jimin had been by your side for as long as you could remember, been the only person in this world that had kept you safe and as happy as possible given the situation. You trusted him, more than you trusted even yourself. 

“I know,” you said, because you wanted him to know it. You wanted him to know that you trusted him and knew how much he cared about you. You wanted him to know how much you cared about him too, and how much you wanted him in your life, even if it probably wasn’t going to be a very long one, “I love you.”

Maybe you shouldn’t have said the big ‘I love you’ right before having sex, you don’t recall any romantic movie scenes where that had happened. Maybe it was shallow or too casual. 

But the big smile that suddenly overtook Jimin’s face made you happy that you did. He gave you a few light kisses on your lips before he whispered it back against your ear.

“I love you too, Y/N.”

Hearing him say it back affected you a lot more than you had thought it would. Despite dreaming about a moment like this for years, nothing could come close to the real feeling of Park Jimin telling you he loved you right after telling him the same. You imagine this is what being high feels like, mind hazy on satisfaction. 

You let Jimin kiss you again, this one much more passionate than the last. When he pulled away from you, his expression showed nothing but care and love. 

“Let me show you how much I love you baby.”

This time you didn’t overthink.

This time you gave yourself to him completely, all night. 

It was still dark when Jimin woke you up, pointing out a few shady looking people from your window. It didn’t take long for you to understand that your time at the hotel was up. 

You both needed to get moving. 

After making sure you weren’t being followed, you and Jimin hopped onto your motorcycle and continued speeding down the secluded highway. You’d only managed to get a few hours of sleep before Jimin had woken you up, meaning the sun was probably going to rise in an hour or two. It wouldn’t do much to change the gloomy atmosphere considering it was still raining, but you’ve never been in a better mood until today. 

Jimin also seemed to be in a good mood, pointing out cool scenery and animals through the dark as you travelled through vast fields of farmland. It didn’t even feel like you both were trying to run away from inevitable death. It just felt like any other day, following through on one of your missions.

About an hour or two later, Jimin was pulling into the airport, bringing the motorcycle to a stop right in front of the passenger pick-up and drop-off area. 

“So what’s our point of entrance?” You thought out loud while scanning your surroundings. 

You obviously couldn’t just waltz through security with your weapons and no passport and expect not to be thrown into jail in record time. There needed to be another way. 

Jimin pointed his head to the right, guiding you to follow his line of sight. At the far end, you could see the air stewards and pilots laughing and talking with each other as they walked into the airport with their small hand carries. 

“It would definitely get us past security,” you agreed, picking up on what he was implying.

The two of you abandoned the motorcycle and made your way into the airport. You needed to find the group of air stewards and pilots that were flying to Canada so you could get past security. After that, it should be easy to get onto the plane.

You and Jimin scanned the board of flights, praying there was a flight to Canada happening soon. To your relief, the earliest flight was departing in about half an hour. Not a lot of time, but you could definitely make it work. 

Before you could start looking for a group of stewards attending that flight, a man caught your eye. He was just standing there, looking around the place as if he were some kind of security guard. But he wasn’t dressed as such, rather he was wearing a black hoodie and jeans–

Your eyes furrowed as you noticed his shoes. They were standard issue shoes from the Organisation, no doubt about it. And with how vigilant the man was being, you were betting that he had been put on high alert, likely searching for the two of you. 

“Nine o’clock, in the black hoodie,” you whispered to Jimin, who didn’t look right away. 

His eyes flickered to the man and then back to you, “the group of stewards next to the security entrance match our description.”

You nodded keeping a close eye on the man, who was still oblivious to the two of you thanks to the crowd surrounding you both. 

“We meet up in the family bathroom after clearing security,” you said, causing Jimin to nod. 

Without any other words the two of you split up, Jimin off to seize his steward while you were off to seize yours. It was normal for you to follow unsaid commands like that, you could read each other so easily after all. What wasn’t normal was the small squeeze Jimin gave your hand before you split, one that had you battling a smile and heated cheeks. 

It didn’t take you long to find the group Jimin had hinted at, but it did take a while to find a stewardess similar to your height and appearance. The clock in the back of your mind was counting down the time left until the plane’s departure. You had to get on that plane in time, or you could kiss any chance of freedom goodbye. 

27:32 minutes remaining.

You walked up to the steward, explaining the first problem you could think of off the top of your head. It was easy getting her to come with you into the bathroom, and then even easier to knock her out in one of the stalls without a sound. The Organisation had taught you how to manipulate to the point that it was practically second nature to you. 

You quickly put on her uniform while checking for her passport and boarding ticket. Unfortunately you were going to have to leave behind your gun and daggers, which made you feel more naked than ever. But you didn’t have much other choice at this point. 

With your head held high, you walked out of the bathroom in the stewardess uniform and hand carry dragging against the floor. You didn’t see Jimin anywhere yet, but you had to get past security and into the bathroom first before you could start worrying about him. 

You greeted the security guard with a smile as you handed him your passport and boarding ticket. He took your baggage and placed it on a conveyor belt while motioning for you to go through the metal detector. The detector stayed silent as you walked through confidently.

It was the bag that caused a sound to erupt from the machine. 

The security guard’s eyebrows furrowed as he focused on the screen that was showing the scan of your luggage. Unfortunately the screen was turned the other way so you couldn’t see what he was picking up on.

“Are you sure you’ve declared everything ma’am?” He asked sternly, pulling the carry on from out of the machine and unzipping it. 

Crap… was the stewardess you picked a drug smuggler? She didn’t seem like one to you, but if he’s picking up on drugs then that’ll be an issue. How stupid could she be to openly smuggle drugs in her luggage? She was a stewardess, didn’t she know security scanned baggage?

You readied yourself to get out of the situation, but then paused as he flipped the luggage open. 

Oh god…

Staring back at you and the security guard was a neon pink adult toy sitting right at the top of a bunch of neatly folded clothes. 

The security guard stuttered as he quickly zipped the carry on shut while you tried your hardest not to laugh. He practically threw the hand carry back at you, looking anywhere but your face. 

“Enjoy your flight ma’am,” he choked out. His eyes suddenly widened, as if realising the double meaning behind that sentence before scrambling to redeem himself, “that’s not– I-I mean-”

You couldn’t help the reply that came out of your mouth, “Thank you, I will indeed enjoy my flight.”

You laughed internally as you watched the security guard’s face turn bright red, before walking off towards the bathroom. 

Poor guy. That was hilarious, though. 

But your smile was quick to vanish when you noticed the guy in a black hoodie from earlier standing in the same line you had been just a moment before. This time, his gaze was fixed solely on you. 

They found you.

Your hands were quick to find the lock of the family bathroom, twisting it quickly before you were scanning the small space. Jimin was already there, sitting atop the closed toilet patiently while wearing a men’s steward uniform. At your arrival he stood immediately. 

You were surprised when he greeted you with a firm kiss to your lips. 

Man could you get used to this. 

“Nice dildo,” Jimin snickered, earning him a roll of your eyes. 

“I guess the plane ride can get boring for some.”

The two of you couldn’t help but laugh at the situation. The fact that it was caught on the machine meant that it was some kind of automated toy too, which for some reason made it funnier. 

When your laughs died out, you were the first to break the mood, “the man we saw earlier spotted me. He’s in line for security right now.”

“Okay, then we need to be quick,” Jimin nodded, demeanor becoming serious,“we obviously won’t be able to get on the plane as stewards. Our only point of entrance is the cargo compartment that they have for pets since it’s the only one on an airplane that’s pressurised and ventilated.”

“We can try getting there through the vents,” you suggested.

In the past, the two of you participated in a mission that required you to memorise the layout of the airport’s vents, but that was a long time ago. Your memory of the vents couldn’t be as accurate now, not to mention the airport was always going through construction, so you didn’t even know if the vents would still be the same as before. 

Jimin explained that much to you again. 

“There should be a back entrance for the workers that load the baggage into the plane,” he said, “we’ll have to find it and–”

A sudden bang from outside the bathroom door caused you both to flinch. Your eyes immediately went to the door, while your hand instinctively grabbed for your dagger before realising it wasn’t there anymore. 

“This is airport security. Open the door or we’ll be forced to use violence,” a man’s voice yelled. 

It was safe to say that was not airport security, and instead the Organisation forcing you out of the bathroom. In fact, you’d bet some heavy money on that guy in the black hoodie from earlier being the one standing outside the door right now. 

“Well, vents it is,” you announced, rummaging through the stewardess’s hand carry until you managed to find a metal hair curler. You gave it to Jimin, who grabbed it quickly and began breaking the vent cover. 

“You have 20 seconds before we open this door,” he said, but you could already see the door knob wiggling. They were no doubt placing an explosive and would set it off the moment they were done. 

In a matter of seconds, Jimin had managed to break off the vent cover with the hair curler and hoist you into the vent. The sound of the door erupting reverberated around the room just as Jimin managed to hoist himself up. Splinters from the door flew everywhere, landing near even you, who was already well within the metal labyrinth. You grabbed Jimin’s arm and helped him up before making your way deeper into the vents. 

Your mind struggled to remember the layout of the airport’s vents. Every turn you took was more of a guess than a certainty, but Jimin didn’t correct you when you made a decision so your choices couldn’t have been that bad. 

The sounds of the Organisation’s men following you through the vents could be heard a few metres back. You needed to hurry if you wanted to get away from them and if you wanted to make it on time to the airplane. 

10:01 minutes remaining.

You paused when the vents split into two opposite directions, completely unsure of which direction led to where. You could swear that this split wasn’t even in the outline you studied years ago. 

“You wouldn’t happen to know the directions, would you?” You asked Jimin, while sounds of the Organisation’s men got closer and closer. 

Jimin paused, no doubt crouched uncomfortably as he waited behind you. You hated how if the men caught up to you, it would be Jimin that would have to face them first. You could even bet that’s why Jimin stayed behind you in the first place. That protective bastard.

“I don’t think this was part of the outline,” he said after racking his brain for the answer. 

Your focus shifted behind you to look at Jimin, but instead you noticed the Organisation’s men already inching a few metres away towards you two. They’d catch up to you guys in no time. 

You shifted your focus back to the situation in front of you. It was really a 50/50 chance at this point, so you quickly did eenie meenie miny moe in your head and prayed the direction you chose wouldn’t land you right into the hands of the Organisation. Wordlessly, Jimin followed behind. 

A few more minutes of uncomfortable crawling led you to a dip in the vent, almost like a slide. You slid down it without hesitation, completely aware that the Organisation’s men were now dangerously close to Jimin. 

What you didn’t expect, was for the vent to end, causing you to slam into the vent cover. You awkwardly brough your feet in front of you, and slammed them against it. It clattered to the seemingly concrete ground, allowing you to finally squeeze out of the cramped vent. 

05:57 minutes remaining.

The outside’s breeze flowed through your hair as you tried to make out the layout in front of you through the darkness of dawn, a crack of the sun that was now visible helping a bit. A few airplanes stood side by side in a line, while others were already speeding down the runway into the air. 

You heard Jimin jump out of the vent, but before you could turn towards him, you felt him pull you down to the ground. Not a second later, three bullets came flying towards where you had been standing moments ago. 

The both of you turned around to see the Organisation’s men jumping out of the vents, eyes trained on you. You were already mentally cursing at the guns in their hands. 

“Let’s go,” you said, grabbing Jimin’s arm and dragging him behind you. 

You were lucky that it was dark, which messed up the aim of a lot of the shots being sent towards you both. What you needed was to find the airplane leaving in less than 5 minutes. But the more you scanned the area, the more you were losing hope. 

“There,” Jimin said suddenly, pointing towards your left.

The plane was hidden behind one of the watchtowers. It seemed that all the passengers had boarded, and the only thing it was waiting for was the loading of the luggage. You could see the workers still throwing large cargo into the cargo compartment quickly. You just needed to reach that point, then getting past the workers would take no time. 

You and Jimin continued to run towards it. Almost there, almost there…

“Wait,” you stopped suddenly, realising something. Jimin’s brows furrowed as he paused next to you.

“Wha-”

“The men,” you said, looking behind you. They weren’t shooting anymore, instead they were just standing there watching the two of you, “why are they just standing there?”

You were well within range of their weapons. Why wouldn’t they take a shot when they had the cha–

“Watch out!” Jimin suddenly yelled. 

You just barely managed to dodge the giant truck that had been hurtling towards you at full speed. With its headlights off, you didn’t even notice it had been coming towards you until it would have been too late. 

The truck screeched to a stop, allowing several more men and women from the Organisation to jump out and surround you. You were severely outnumbered, with no weapons and now less than 3 minutes to get on a plane that stood at least 120 metres away from you. 

“We just need to get to the plane,” Jimin said, analysing the 17 armed individuals currently surrounding you both, “once we’re in the plane, they can’t get us. We’ll need to make a run for it.”

02:11 minutes remaining.

Jimin was right, there was no time to take your chances with the individuals surrounding you. You could already see the workers throwing in the last of the baggage and getting ready to close the cargo entrance. If you didn’t make it, it was over. 

You quickly lunged at one of the men, clearly taking him off guard. You grabbed his gun and managed to slam its butt into his face, causing him to crumple to the floor. One look at the gun in Jimin’s hand had you both sprinting towards the airplane. 

01:37 minutes remaining.

Every few seconds, you had to turn back and send a few bullets flying towards the group, which was now down to 15. It gave you and Jimin a chance to run without being shot at. 

01:07 minutes remaining.

A worker threw the last bag into the cargo hold and motioned for another to begin closing the compartment. You and Jimin were only a few metres away, sprinting with as much energy as you could. You’d be able to make it within a minute–

A bullet suddenly ripped into your calf, causing you to stumble and almost faceplant right into the concrete. Pain erupted in your leg as you tried to get back onto your feet.

“Y/N!” Jimin shouted, crouching down next to you immediately. 

He brought up his gun and sent a bunch of bullets towards the group, three of which actually hit their target. The Organisation’s members immediately fell backwards, waiting for a safe moment to shoot. 

00:34 minutes remaining.

You could see the compartment closing as the workers made their way back into the baggage carts and began driving away. 30 seconds… You only had 30 seconds to make it before your opening would close forever. 

“Y/N, I know it hurts,” Jimin said, and you could pick up on the hint of desperation in his voice, “but we need to run for it. Just 20 seconds, okay? You just need to hold out for 20 seconds.”

You nodded, clenching your teeth as Jimin helped you up while sending more shots towards the Organisation’s people. 

10 seconds remaining.

“Okay, now!” He signalled. 

The two of you continued to sprint towards the now closing airplane compartment, Jimin’s arm half dragging you in the process. Your leg wasn’t completely useless considering you were just barely able to match his speed, but the pain almost had you blacking out midrun. 

7 seconds remaining.

Jimin’s grip on your arm tightened as he sped up.

“Almost there,” he assured, “almost there.”

5 seconds remaining.

You wanted to cry in relief when you finally came to a stop in front of the compartment door. The large door was closing upwards and was already halfway closed. That caused Jimin to hurriedly lift you up so that you could slip into the little opening between the closing door and the side of the plane. 

The only issue was that by the time you were inside, the opening was much too small for Jimin to slip through. 

3 seconds remaining.

“Jimin!”

You couldn’t see him anymore, the sides of the door had closed too much. How was he going to get in?

2 seconds remaining.

No, no, no.

“Jimin!” You shouted again, like it was going to do anything. 

1 second remaining.

A grunt caused your gaze to shift upwards, and you noticed Jimin slipping through the small opening between the top of the door and the plane’s side. For a terrifying moment, you thought the closing door was going to crush him, but at the last second he managed to slip through without losing his head. 

The second his feet connected with the floor, you threw your arms around him, almost sobbing at the fact that he was alive and you weren’t going to have to travel to Canada without him.

Jimin chuckled at your reaction, but with how tight his hold was, you were sure he wasn’t as nonchalant as he was making himself out to be. 

“Come on,” he said softly, refusing to let you go, “let’s go to the ventilated compartment before the plane takes off.”

You nodded as he helped your limping form towards the other side of the compartment. With the initial shock wearing off, your eyes widened at the realisation. 

“We did it…” You said incredulously. 

Jimin gave you a smile as he got the door open and ushered you inside before making sure it was properly locked. 

“Holy crap, we actually did it, Jimin. We bested the Organisation.”

The realisation didn’t feel real, like at any moment you’d wake up back in the hotel room and realise this was all a dream. The Organisation that you’ve feared ever since you knew about its existence would now be a distant memory. You and Jimin could finally live your lives based on your own terms, without the fear of death constantly looming over your heads. It was almost daunting thinking about the amount of freedom you now had. 

Jimin sat you down next to one of the cages, which were largely empty besides one sleeping dog nestled in the corner. Moving your pant aside, he began examining your bullet wound. 

“I’ve been through worse, I’ll be fine,” you assured, but he continued anyway.

Gently, he unravelled the mini scarf wrapped around your neck as part of the stewardess uniform and began wrapping it around your wounded calf. You flinched in pain, causing him to stroke your thigh in comfort. 

“What do you want to do now?” He asked, continuing to wrap your wound gently while you clenched your teeth. 

“What do you mean?”

He raised an eyebrow in amusement, “we’re about to go to Canada and live the rest of our lives there. Surely you have some plans.”

You rolled your eyes, “I didn’t even think we’d make it this far, much less have time to plan out what we’ll do in Canada.”

The plane suddenly lurched, indicating the beginning of its take off. Jimin finished tying the scarf and then began to apply pressure, causing you to whine in pain. 

“I want a small house,” you blurted out, piquing Jimin’s interest.

“Small?” He asked, to which you nodded, “I would have thought that after our small rooms at the Organisation, you would have wanted something big?”

You shook your head. Sure, the Organisation’s small bedrooms had driven you crazy at some points, but a large house was just as daunting. Big houses reminded you of your life before the Organisation, and although it wasn’t terrible, it made you feel cold and unsettled. And you told Jimin just that. 

He smiled, continuing to hold pressure against your leg, “then a small house you will get.”

“What about you? What do you want once we reach there?” You asked, genuinely curious about his answer. Jimin wasn’t a very materialistic person. At least you watched an unhealthy amount of movies and made a hobby out of talking his ears off. But aside from training, you don’t think you’ve ever witnessed him doing much else. 

“Well that’s easy. All I want is you.”

You rolled your eyes, “okay, Romeo. Serious answer please?”

The pressure on your wound suddenly lifted, allowing you to breathe out a sigh of relief, as Jimin checked for bleeding. When he seemed satisfied by the lack thereof, his gaze held yours, shifting to a more serious expression. 

“As an orphan, I’ve never stayed in a place comfortable enough to call it home,” he said, “and then when the Organisation kidnapped me, I knew I could kiss any hopes of comfort goodbye.”

“But then I met you. You were lively and intelligent, with a spirit as vivacious as a cool breeze. And though they tried their best, the Organisation couldn’t entirely kill that fire inside you. I was doomed the second you decided to give me the time of day. You quickly became my comfort, my home. So yes, all I really want is you.”

“Since when did you become so chatty, Park Jimin?” You said, trying to distract him from the fact that you were sure your face was red. 

But Jimin just gave you a lopsided grin, “ I have to make up for all the times you talked my ear off, don’t I?”

“Hey! I thought you liked listening to my rambling,” you protested.

Jimin stood up suddenly, walking towards you before kneeling down next to your seated form. His hand cupped your face gently as a slight chuckle escaped his lips. 

“I’m just kidding baby, of course I like your rambling,” he said softly, “I would listen to your voice all day if I could.”

He brought you closer for a chaste kiss before pulling back and giving you a teasing smile. How you ended up with a man like him you’ll never know. But if the Organisation hasn’t killed you, you know he probably will with his sweet words and even sweeter actions. 

His proximity had your whole body feeling warm and fuzzy, especially your hands. It wasn’t until you noticed your hands turning hot when you realised that they weren’t heating as a response to Jimin. Confused, your gaze dropped to where your hands were resting on the floor, Jimin doing the same when he noticed your sudden change in expression. 

Your eyes widened.

Dark red liquid enveloped your hands as it pooled in the centre of the small compartment. Jimin’s gaze snapped to your leg, but it had long since stopped bleeding. 

“What the hell-” you said, following the trail of blood to the corner of the cages. 

Jimin stood, slowly making his way to the source of the trail. The dog from earlier was still soundly asleep in its cage, completely unaware of your presence. Or at least, that’s what the two of you had thought. 

As Jimin inched closer, he was starting to realise that the blood was actually seeping from under its cage and pooling into the centre of the compartment. He crouched down with furrowed eyebrows, wondering how the dog could be sleeping through all this. But the answer came to him quickly as he noticed the eerie stillness of the creature.

He wasn’t sleeping. 

He was dead.

“Jimin?” Your distressed voice called from behind him. 

“The dog is–”

Jimin froze as he stood and turned around, taking in the terrifying scene in front of him. A man almost double your size had pushed a dagger dangerously close to your throat as his other arm wrapped around you, ensuring you couldn’t move.  

‘Behind you!’ his mind screamed at him. He knew this move, had learned it multiple times before they had even taught him how to write. But he knew he was too late when he felt the press of a single cool blade against his neck. The owner of said blade chuckled from behind him. 

You watched in panic as the man pressed his dagger more firmly against Jimin’s throat, enough to draw a single drop of blood. 

“Well, haven’t you both been a surprisingly significant inconvenience today?” A deep voice rang. 

Your gaze shifted to the other corner of the room, taking in the entrance of another man. It didn’t take long for you to recognise his tall figure, rugged features, and uniquely marked pistol hanging from his hand. 

The Leader.

His sharp gaze scanned over you and Jimin with contempt as he slowly made his way towards the centre of the room. You grimaced when he stepped right into the pool of blood like it was nothing but water. 

“You were given direct orders,” he continued, “yet they were disobeyed, despite your pledge of loyalty to the Organisation.”

“Were you not aware of the consequences?” 

A silence ensued in the compartment, you nor Jimin willing to provide him with an answer. He didn’t seem to appreciate that. 

He flicked his head towards Jimin, and you only had a second to realise the implication of that action.

The man standing behind Jimin suddenly plunged his dagger into him, right below his rib cage, to the point that you could see the tip of the dagger. 

“No!” You screamed, trying to run to him but the man behind you held onto you firmly. Jimin groaned in pain, falling to his knees with a hand pressed against the bleeding wound. The man behind him no longer needed to restrain him, opting instead to lean against the wall. 

You didn’t bother to hide the tears that started running down your cheeks as you watched Jimin grimace in pain. It felt like the dagger had stabbed you instead because you could’ve sworn pain erupted under your ribcage as well. 

“I asked, were you not aware of the consequences?” The Leader asked again. 

It made you glare, “since when do you care about what we are and are not aware of?”

But the Leader ignored you as he stepped right in front of Jimin, gaze focused solely on him. He lowered himself into a kneeling position and grabbed Jimin’s chin, forcing him to gaze upwards. The look of pain on Jimin’s face made you sob. 

“Yes, I did know,” he said, voice unwavering despite the evident grimace on his face.

“So you both directly disobeyed orders from the Organisation? You admit to being traitors to the most powerful organisation in the world?”

“Spare her,” Jimin said suddenly, as if he’d been holding it in the entire time, “do what you want with me, but please let her go.”

“No!” Like hell you were going to let him take the fall for this, “I forced him to do it. He isn’t a traitor!”

“Shut her up,” the Leader commanded. 

You felt pain shoot up your leg as the man behind you dug his heel into your bullet wound. Your knees collapsed to the ground as you tried to muffle your cry of pain. 

The Leader scanned Jimin once again, who was starting to look a little dazed with all the blood he'd lost. He wasn’t going to last much longer. 

“I’m disappointed in you, Park Jimin,” he sighed, “I had great plans for you. You could’ve married my daughter, become the leader after me. But now you’ve made yourself a traitor, and my daughter is dead.”

Guilt spread through your chest at the news of his daughter’s death. She was the one that could’ve stopped him and his organisation, but now she was no more. No doubt killed at the hands of her own father. You could see a hint of guilt in Jimin’s expression as well. 

“I suppose I should thank you for aiding in exposing my daughter for the traitor she was,” the Leader continued, “but we both know the Organisation does not work like that.”

The Leader’s hand went to cup Jimin’s neck, who was now barely keeping his eyes open. 

“There are no places for traitors in the Organisation,” the Leader whispered. 

Jimin’s dazed, but heavy gaze fell on you, who was doing a poor job at keeping the tears streaming down your face at bay. For the first time in a long time you had trouble understanding what he was trying to say. Goodbye? I’m sorry? I love you? For a moment, you were sent back to when you were 9 again, staring into the eyes of the 12 year old boy who’s expression held a whirlpool of emotions and pleas as he dragged you away from your old life. 

Then a dagger sprang from the Leader’s wrist and plunged into Jimin’s neck, causing another scream to rip out of your hoarse throat. This time, Jimin went limp in a matter of seconds, body dropping to the ground as his lifeless eyes stared aimlessly in front of him. 

Your sobs filled the compartment’s silence as the Leader paused. He deserved so much better than this. He was so kind and intelligent and talented. He could have done so much, achieved so much if he had only been given the chance. If the Organisation hadn’t gotten to him and made his life a living hell. 

The Leader turned to you, but you were no longer paying him any attention. Your eyes couldn’t rip away from the nightmare standing in front of you. Not even 10 minutes ago you had been hoping that you weren’t living some kind of dream, but now you’d do anything to wake up back at that hotel. If only you had forced Jimin to kill you at the warehouse. If only you had pushed him away that night in the hotel. If only, if only, if only.

Then Jimin wouldn’t have suffered so much. He could have been back at the base, training for another mission, alive and well. It should’ve been you. It should’ve only been you.

You could make out the Leader making his way towards you before kneeling and forcing your chin to face him. But it didn’t matter, all you could see was Jimin’s lifeless body and it would be the only thing you’d see until the Leader finally decided to end your suffering. 

“It’s disappointing watching you in this position considering how hard we worked to get you back from your mother,” he said while shaking his head. 

That made your eyebrows furrow momentarily. What did he mean by back from your mother?

Noticing this confusion, the Leader continued, “before you were born, the Organisation had decided to experiment with a new way of recruiting members. Instead of kidnapping children, we decided to try breeding them and then training them as soon as possible. Of course, we had to test this new approach first.”

“So we bred you, the daughter of the strongest assassins in the Organisation at the time. Unfortunately, your mother seemed to grow an attachment to you and ended up stealing you away from us. It was impressive how she managed to hide you from us for 9 years. 

“But those 9 years were wasted. During them, you could have trained to become the Organisation’s best assassin. You could have been our most powerful tool.”

The Leader looked back at Jimin, but you couldn’t find it in you to follow his gaze. The image of his lifeless body had been burned into your mind, looking at him just felt like the hot iron was pressing back into your brain once again. 

“Both of you could have.”

There might have been a time when the revelation of your history might have shocked you. When learning that your mother had betrayed the Organisation for you might have willed you to look back and connect the dots. But now your mind felt numb. You honestly couldn’t care less if your mother had picked you up from a garbage can. Jimin was gone and you were only running on borrowed time. 

“Tragic how the ones destined for greatness always fall the hardest,” he continued.

The Leader’s hand followed up your shoulder until he was cupping your neck. His gaze was the gaze of death, and you focused on it until you no longer could. You closed your eyes, waiting for the final blow. 

It’s funny how in the face of death your life didn’t flash before your eyes, nor did you cry hysterically or beg for your life. Instead, the voice of your mother awoke from its slumber in your mind, asking a question that you hadn’t been asked in a long time. 

So, what is the moral of the story?

For years you had racked your small brain, trying to find an answer to the question that had seemed so significant and complex to you. It was almost insulting how quickly the answer came to you now. It couldn’t have been more clear. 

In the story, that stupid girl had gone her whole life flaunting her grades, her intelligence, and her beauty in the faces of everyone around her. She ensured that anyone, whether friend or stranger, knew about her superiority and magnificence, yet not once did she stop to ponder about how against her that would make others. How willing people could be to destroy her out of jealousy, or how willing people could be to steal what she had and keep it for themself.

Not once did she stop and wonder how she could protect herself in the case of an attack. 

She had built the cage that was supposed to protect her with glass, and when the big bad wolf had come for her head, she might as well have handed it over to him on a silver platter. 

All your life, you had thought that the metal cage your mother had built around you was to keep you contained, but really it had been made to keep the Organisation out. Once the Organisation had gotten you, you didn’t bother building another. That’s what made you and the girl from the story the same. 

You both didn’t bother to prepare, instead you were stupidly content with your glass cages. 

But as you felt the Leader’s grip tighten on your neck, you couldn’t help but think you were tired of cages. You’d suffered within the confines of your mother’s, and then the Organisation’s. Your first taste of freedom had been Jimin, but now he was gone and had taken your freedom with him. 

“There are no places for failures in the Organisation,” the Leader whispered. 

And when the dagger plunged into your neck, a sigh of relief almost escaped your lips. 

You were finally free.

Chapter 1: So High [M]

Summary: “A manwhore and a junkie… it’s a match made in heaven.”

Pairing: Park Jimin x Reader

Genre: High School au, angst

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: 18+, substance use disorder/drug addiction, PTSD, child abuse, additional warnings might be added as story progresses.

A/N: I swear I spent like a month researching to make sure everything is as accurate as possible, but if you’re more experienced in this topic and see some inaccuracies don’t hesitate to let me know. Also, if you are under 18: do. not. read. I am watching you younglings.

<< masterlist || next chapter >>

Just one step at a time Y/N, you're almost there.

You groaned inwardly as you continued to drag your feet along the concrete sidewalk, every bone in your body weighing you down like a heavy truck. Your muscles screamed at you to turn around and burrow back into your bed and even your mind was having trouble focusing. Overall, nothing but pure willpower was pushing you through the empty park, but you had to keep moving if you wanted these feelings to stop. 

So you pushed on. 

Ironically, the atmosphere was a perfect reflection of your mood. Despite how early it was in the morning, there was no prospect of the usual sunlight. Instead, grey clouds and an oddly comfortable hum caused by rainy drizzle surrounded you as you continued. It only made your muscles more languid and you almost caught yourself falling asleep mid-step several times. 

Thankfully, after what felt like hours, your gaze caught onto a lone figure on the other side of the park, rocking against one of the swings quietly. Besides him, the area was largely deserted, probably because of how early it was in the morning. Soon it would be filled with students and parents rushing to their schools and jobs. 

You'd be one of them, but for now, you had more pressing matters to attend to. 

"Yoongi," you greeted idly once you walked up to him. 

Yoongi, who had been staring at the sand below him, looked up at you with a scowl. His black hair was pulled into a half bun while it looked like he had gotten his hair trimmed. Today, he was dressed in an expensive looking black rain jacket that stopped at his knees paired with black combat boots. His silver cross earring seemed unusually dull in the rainy weather. 

"It's Suga when we're doing business," he corrected, pushing himself off the swing while eyeing the security cameras wearily. They weren't working at the moment, due to some renovations or something like that, so you didn't really understand the paranoia. 

You tilted your head lazily at his statement, "it's always business with us."

"Exactly," he frowned, shaking his head in regret, "if it wasn't for- well, you know- you wouldn't have even figured out my actual name, which is already annoying. So no need to rub it in."

"Nope, I worked too hard to get that name just to never use it," you smirked, trying to keep your voice light, but on the inside you were itching to grab what you came for, "so... do you have it?"

Yoongi's hand disappeared into his jacket's pocket and returned with a small white bottle just barely the size of your thumb. Why was it so small?

"What the hell is that?"

Despite your words, it took everything in you not to snatch up the bottle like some savage, but your pleasantries only went so far. The second the bottle was in your hand you didn't bother waiting for him to leave before you opened it and downed three pills on the spot. 

He frowned in response, "I'm low on stock right now."

It was always so typical of him to have such short and concise responses, and although you hated it, it was pretty helpful for when you were going through withdrawals. It was easier for your foggy mind to understand short sentences rather than a bunch of details. But you were going to need the details in this case. Yoongi hadn't been low on stock in a long time, which means something must have happened.  

At your expression Yoongi sighed. 

"Look, I think someone tipped the police off about me so I'm laying low for a while. In fact, the only reason I'm even doing business with you right now is because you're my least problematic client, which I appreciate... and also because I know withdrawal can be a real pain."

You hummed in response, barely paying attention. The pills you just took weren't going to kick in for another 10-20 minutes, so most of what Yoongi was saying was flying through one ear and out the other. 

"Anyways," he sighed, likely noticing your current state, "I'll get the payment after I get the cops off my back."

He hesitated before his next words but ultimately mumbled, "take care of yourself."

You lazily watched as he made his way into a flashy red car and drove off before you realised you should probably get going as well. 

-

-

-

By the time you reached your school, you felt your focus sharpen as the Adderall you had taken earlier finally started kicking in. The black jacket you had been wearing, to hide your uniform from Yoongi of course, was hanging against your arm as you made your way into the school towards your classroom. 

Since you were a little early, the class wasn't entirely full just yet. Students were still milling around, laughing and chatting about things you couldn't care less about. It wasn't until you sat down in your seat when you noticed that your best, and only, friend was already in the classroom. 

Kim Namjoon, with his dark brown hair and dimpled cheeks, gave you a stern look as he noticed your presence. 

"You didn't answer my call yesterday," he stated as-a-matter-of-factly. 

That made you snort, "when do I ever answer your calls for school related stuff?"

"Because you're too busy crashing from all the drugs you take throughout the day?"

It was his tone more than his words that made you turn towards him with a frown. Namjoon has always bothered you about your... recreational activities, that's no surprise. But there was something about the rare harshness in his voice this time that had you taken aback.  

"I'm fine Namjoon, chill out."

But Namjoon seemed unusually persistent today and only his next words gave some insight as to why, "you know there was a death in my apartment yesterday? A guy overdosed on a ton of cocaine and died, Y/N, because he was doing the exact same thing you do."

You shifted uncomfortably to mask your uneasiness.

"I don't do coke," you joked, but Namjoon's face didn't waver. 

"So? Whether it’s Adderall or meth, the result is still the same,” he pressed further, "you know he was completely alone when it happened? And when his family came to the funeral, they barely even cared. Most of them said they hadn't seen him in years."

You scoffed, "Well, I definitely won't have that problem."

His expression softened, "there are people that still care about you, Y/N, but if you continue on the path you're on right now, I can't guarantee that. I don't want you to be like him. I don't want you to end up alone with nothing but a drug addiction."

You could hear the fear in his voice at that last sentence. 

"I don't have an addiction, Namjoon, relax," you said as you heard the bell ring. All around you, students rushed to their seats in preparation for the class, "I could stop if I wanted to, you're just being paranoid."

He seemed disappointed at your response, even a little angry.

"You're high right now aren't you?" He whispered. 

“When am I not?"

"That's not funny, Y/N."

"It's a little funny."

Namjoon's hand grabbed your arm in frustration as his voice lowered, "this isn't a joke, Y/N. If you're not going to take this seriously then I'll have to do things you're not going to like."

You scoffed at the threat, "like what? Tell everyone about it? How would you even convince them? I'm a straight A student that's respectful to all the teachers. Who would even believe you?"

"A simple drug test can change all that," he snapped back. 

Your eyebrow raised, "so you'd report me to the police?"

Namjoon's frustrated face morphed into shame as he looked away quickly. The two of you had been friends ever since you and your father moved here when you were 7 years old. He was practically your brother at this point. When he found out about your using around a year ago, he had been furious, but every time he tried, he just couldn't report you. Maybe it was because he didn't want you to have a criminal record, or maybe it was because he didn't want to hurt you, either way he's been ashamed about the lack of action ever since. 

Namjoon watched the teacher walk into the class with a mixture of guilt and anguish. 

"I should... If I really cared about you I would've reported you the first time I found out. Maybe it wouldn't have become so bad if I did..."

You quietly watched as the students started getting out their textbooks and homework. Namjoon's words, despite not being anything new, should've moved you. You should've felt a need to change, or to do better. 

But you didn't feel any of that. Even hearing about that man, that might even be foreshadowing to your future, didn't instill any fear into your heart. In fact, the prospect of that being your future didn't shake you. 

Honestly, you felt nothing at all. 

-

-

-

The sound of the bell ending first period had never felt more relieving as you finally felt Namjoon’s gaze, which had been drilling into the side of your head the entire time, shift. Thankfully, he wasn’t in your second period class so you’d finally get a break from his constant worry. 

That allowed you to make your way to your second classroom quietly before settling down in your usual seat that was near the back of the class. You were even going to quietly rest your head on your desk for a moment, but the sound of three girls shuffling towards you made you realise that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. 

It was always comical how fast she approached you the second Namjoon was out of the picture.

"Y/N!" 

You groaned, preparing yourself for what you knew was going to be one of the worst five minutes of your life.

Kim Jiwoo smirked as she peered down at you, two girls, whose names you didn't even know, at her side. Today she had tied her long brown hair into a half ponytail, letting her side bangs frame her face. Most would call her pretty, but you knew better than to flatter a snake. 

"Did you sleep in a barn last night?" She laughed, tugging at a strand of your hair, "it looks like a rat’s nest."

The two at her side laughed as she gasped.

"Wait, who am I kidding," she continued, " your father couldn't afford a barn. Where then? The side of a highway?"

Another round of her friends' laughs filled the room annoyingly. 

"Don't you have anywhere else to be insecure, Jiwoo?" You grumbled tiredly. 

She simply scoffed, "what do I have to be insecure about? Your face is all the self-love I need. Everyday I wake up and am thankful my parents didn't give birth to one like yours."

That made you smile, "speaking of parents, how is your parents' divorce going? I heard your dad was found sleeping with the maid after church, again. Personally I think you take after him the most."

The two girls' eyes widened in surprise as they side-eyed a seething Jiwoo. At this point, the whole class had gone quiet, listening intently to the two of you. 

For a moment, a very dumb moment, you thought she'd leave it at that and make an embarrassing exit. 

But you were never a very lucky one, were you?

"My parents' divorce is going great, thanks for asking," she said suddenly, a snake-like grin on her face, "I'm just glad both of them are still alive."

You tensed as you felt her close the space between the two of you, "how are your parents, Y/N?"

As unaffected as you were trying to appear, it took a lot of self-control not to throw a chair at her face. 

But Jiwoo wasn't done just yet. 

"Oh my!" She gasped, hands flying to her lips, "I completely forgot! You don't have both of your parents, do you?"

You could feel her breath as she chuckled, but the smile dropped from her face as she came closer, "What's wrong, Y/N? Mother couldn't survive a little chemo?"

Distantly you heard some students gasp, while others laughed. It didn't matter, because none of them could stop you when you brought up your fist and slammed it into her face. 

Anyone that says violence will never be fulfilling is a liar. Watching Jiwoo crumple to the ground was all the therapy you needed. 

Unfortunately, that only made her laugh more. 

"You know, if you kill yourself, maybe you can meet mommy in hell," she laughed, wiping the small trickle of blood from her mouth. 

You just scoffed, hiding the second wave of anger by sitting back in your seat, "and see you there too? No thanks."

As Jiwoo stood, the door of the classroom opened, causing everyone's head to snap towards it. The girls swooned as Mr. Kim walked in with light steps. His gaze first fell on Jiwoo, who was standing over you, and then your seated form.  

"Is there a problem here?"

No one answered, either too afraid for reprimand or too immersed in checking him out. Mr. Kim Seokjin was the youngest teacher in the school, not to mention the most attractive according to the female students. Forget the girls, you were pretty sure you've even caught some of the guys talking about how hot he is. 

When no one answered he raised an eyebrow. It was clear he knew something had happened here, something that shouldn't have happened. But after a moment, he must have decided to let it go because he turned around and started writing on the board. 

"Please go back to your seats everyone and turn to page 237."

You watched as everyone scrambled to their desks, except for Jiwoo of course, who gave you a condescending smile first. That was the one thing you could respect about her, she knew how to take a punch without being a whiny baby about it. The two of you had been at each other's throats for as long as you could remember. The rivalry between you was always so excessively vicious because you were cousins, meaning you knew a lot more about each other's familial secrets compared to the other students. In fact, now that you think about it, you probably exposed her parents' divorce to the class. But you'll take it as payback for yesterday, when she tripped you in the hallways and almost broke your head against one of the lockers. 

Mr. Kim continued to speak about the lesson, which you were completely focused on thanks to the pills you had taken this morning. 

Well, that was until you heard distracting whispers behind you. 

"Who's that?" A male voice whispered, seemingly to someone beside him. 

Another voice answered in the same manner, "oh yeah, you just transferred from class A, right? You don't know about the drama here. Those two have been at each other's throats since forever."

The first voice chuckled, "I don't care about that. Who is she?"

"Um," the second voice paused, as if confused, "you mean her? That's Kim Y/N... why? What's up?"

"She's got a hot back," the first voice said. 

You scowled as you turned around to face the voices, "this 'hot back' can hear you, you know."

You were met with two guys sitting next to each other. The first had permed dirty blonde hair, a boxy grin and intimidating eyes. You already knew him to be Taehyung. Although you'd never really held a full conversation with him, you knew he'd been in your class for a while. 

But the one sitting next to him wasn't as familiar, though you knew you've seen him in the halls before. His hair was a bright orange that oddly suited him, while his cheeks were soft yet structured. 

He was attractive, there was no denying it. But there was also no denying that he was the one commenting on your 'hot back' too, which you did not appreciate.

"Oh I know," he replied coolly, "is admiration suddenly a crime?"

"Go admire someone else's back, thanks," you said, turning back to the lesson being taught. 

But the whispers only continued. 

"Such a pretty face too," the orange haired guy said, and you could almost see him smirking. 

You saw exactly that when you turned around once again, but this time towards Taehyung, "could you put your friend on a leash?"

Taehyung, who actually seemed confused, just shrugged. 

"I'm Park Jimin," the orange haired guy announced, "what's your name, kitten?"

It took everything in you not to cringe at the nickname and instead turn back towards the front of the class, "not interested."

As you watched Mr. Kim turn towards the board to write something down, the sound of a pencil falling to the ground followed. You were sure Jimin threw one at you to get your attention, like some middle schooler might you add, but you were determined to ignore him, keeping your focus on the board. You could hear the sound of a chair scraping against the floor, a slight chuckle and even light footsteps. 

But a moment later you felt your back start to warm up. At first you thought maybe the classroom's heating had turned up, but then you swivelled around to come face to face with Park Jimin. His chest was so close to your back, all he had to do was move just an inch forward and he'd be pressed against it. 

With Mr. Kim still writing something on the board, Jimin went completely unnoticed aside from one or two curious students. 

But that didn't deter him at all. 

"There's going to be a party tonight at Taehyung's place," Jimin whispered, his lips close to your ear, "you should come. I'm sure you'll have a good time."

Just as his head lifted away from yours, Mr. Kim turned around. 

"Jimin, what are you doing out of your seat?" He asked, crossing his arms. 

Jimin raised a pencil in response, and with a start, you realised it was your pencil that had been sitting on your desk a few seconds earlier, "sorry, I just dropped my pencil."

Mr. Kim nodded and went back to teaching the lesson while you heard Jimin take his seat once again, still feeling the ghost of his lips near your ear. 

-

-

-

For the record, it wasn't Park Jimin that had you driving to Taehyung's house at 10 PM on a Friday night. You had known about the party before he had 'invited' you and had already been planning to go. Of course, most students were attending for some partying.

And although partying sounded good, you had other intentions in mind. 

Your car rolled to a stop a few blocks away from Taehyung's house before you got out and started walking along the dark sidewalk. You could already hear the music and sounds of chatter from your current position, but you doubt anyone in the neighbourhood would complain about it. Taehyung's parents were the definition of rich, and messing with people like that was never a very smart option. The best they could do was pop in some ear plugs and wait the party out. 

"Y/N?!" A familiar voice behind you called out. 

Speaking of ear plugs...

You tried to fasten your pace, but Jiwoo was already in step beside you. There seemed to be no sign of the girls from earlier this time. 

"Where are your goons?"

Her reply was quick. 

"Where's your sobriety?"

You rolled your eyes, continuing to walk in silence. To your distaste, she didn't leave after that. 

"Thanks a lot for advertising the divorce. You know how hard it was to keep something like that on the down low?" She scoffed, actually looking quite annoyed. 

You raised an eyebrow, "you're really going to act like that after the chemo comment?"

"You started it. Don't act like some victim now."

It was your turn to scoff now, "you started it like 5 years ago."

"It was 7 years actually."

"Aww, do you have a calendar you use to mark our fights too? I'm straight, before you get any ideas."

"Oh screw off, Y/N."

Thankfully, there was a beat of silence after that. You cursed yourself for parking so far away from the house, but it was usually useful for when the police were called and they started impounding cars. At this point, you'd rather take the police than Jiwoo's presence. 

After a moment Jiwoo spoke up again, "I saw you with Jimin in second period."

She grinned. 

"A manwhore and a junkie... it's a match made in heaven."

You almost celebrated when Taehyung's house finally came into view. Without even bothering to look in Jiwoo's direction, you scurried into the house, but not before hearing her cackle like some kind of witch. 

You genuinely feel bad for whoever decides to curse their life by marrying her. Maybe she'll do everyone a favour and stay single forever, though you doubt she'd be that gracious. 

Even though it was relatively early for the party, the living room was packed with people. Students you recognized from school were chatting and laughing together while others played games and took shots. You were pretty sure you even caught one or two college kids here and there too. 

As you scanned the room, your eyes were naturally drawn to a head of bright orange hair sitting on one of the couches lazily as a girl sat on his lap with a smile. Jimin looked good, with a simple white t-shirt and ripped jeans. A silver earring, similar to Yoongi's, hung from one of his ears. 

For a second, you thought his eyes caught yours, but you turned away and started walking towards the kitchen before you could confirm. It didn't matter anyway, you weren't here for him. 

The sight of alcohol had you smiling. 

You were here for this.  

You grabbed a cup and filled it with beer from one of the tanks sitting on the counter. There were a few empty bottles of vodka and even wine sprawled around, implying that if you looked hard enough you might be able to snag a bottle. But you weren't very keen on getting too hammered tonight. 

While deep in thought, you didn't notice Jimin slip in front of you until he started talking. 

"Having fun?" He asked, a red plastic cup filled with a clear substance already in his hand. His hair was dishevelled and messy, like someone had run their hands through it many times, and a silver necklace shaped like an upside down spade hung from his neck. 

The necklace forced you to look down at his loose sleeveless white shirt, which did a poor job at hiding his toned figure. The muscles in his arm were flexed as they held the cup, making it hard to focus on the one in your own hand. You turned towards the kitchen's counter, trying to shift your mind to something else. 

But Jimin seemed to notice that, making him smirk.

"Like what you see?" He asked innocently as he slowly made his way towards you. When he finally came to a stop, he was so close you could feel the heat of his chest on your arm while his hand rested on the countertop right in front of you, "you don't have to look away, kitten. I don't mind giving it to you if you want it."

Your sharp gaze met his eyes once again, which were also a lot closer than you had initially thought. With his chest near your arm, his hot breath against your ear and his ruffled hair, you didn't blame yourself when you felt a hesitant shiver run down your spine. 

Park Jimin was a jerk, but god was he a hot jerk.

But was this something you wanted? Although you weren't exactly opposed to the idea, you didn't exactly want it either. It had been a long time since you last had sex, and the thought of doing it again with someone like Jimin, aka someone with a lot of recent experience, was kind of nerve wracking. You'd rather just get high. 

"Believe it or not, I didn't come to this party because of you," you said finally. 

"Oh?" His gaze lingered on your lips before raising back to your eyes, "then why are you here?" 

For the free alcohol, and hopefully free drugs, would've been your honest answer. 

"Why does anyone attend parties? To have some fun of course."

Jimin regarded you for a moment before replying, "there are different types of fun at parties. Which one are you here for?"

You shrugged, "not the type you're interested in."

With that, you filled your cup to the top before walking out of the room, eyes peeled for a dealer. Your talk with Jimin had heightened your desire for some fun, which for you was to feel nothing at all. All you had to do was find a dealer that would be willing to give you a sample. 

Thankfully, with your experience, finding someone was no problem. In less than 10 minutes you had found and flagged down a man that seemed much too old to be at a high school party. You chuckled inwardly at the sudden thought of 'cheating' on Yoongi with another dealer, but Yoongi wasn't always available, especially now that the police were on his back. 

After getting the dealer to trust that you weren't a cop, which was stupid considering your age, he eyed you with a more comfortable stare. 

"Okay, what do you need?" He asked patiently. 

You paused for a moment, thinking it over. You already had gotten some Adderall from Yoongi earlier today, and you were craving something a little stronger. But you were in the mood of something relaxing, not stimulating.  

Then the thought of heroin popped into your mind. You were always careful when it came to opioids since they're insanely addictive, but the last time you had some was a pretty long time ago. You were sure the gap was long enough for it to be safe to take it again. Besides, the feeling it gave was always amazing, like every cell in your body was relaxed and calm. 

You'd like that at the moment, and you told him just that. 

He excused himself for a second, rushing into a room before returning again with a bag of fine white powder. He held it out to you discretely, but not before announcing the price. 

"I want a sample first," you said, but the man shook his head. 

"Sorry, no samples."

That made you scoff, "What? How am I supposed to know if it's good or not? Besides this is heroin I'm talking about, not weed."

"Either give me the money and take it or don't. I don't do samples."

"No thanks, I'll look somewhere else."

You turned and started making your way away from him, feeling a bit irritated, but not very angry. You've never had an issue with finding samples at a party. You just seemed to have picked the wrong guy. 

But soon enough, after dealing with multiple dealers that refused, you huffed in frustration. 

"What is up today with you guys? Why is everyone suddenly so against samples?" You rambled to one of them. He just gave you a tired look. 

"Supply has been low lately. I've heard that the police are closing in on some of our harbour guys- uh, major suppliers, if you don't understand. A lot of them have had to lay low because of it, meaning guys like us aren't getting a lot of supply lately. We can't afford to give out samples right now."

So Yoongi wasn't the only one in a tight spot at the moment. Turns out a lot of dealers are suffering right now. That almost made you groan out loud. 

"So that's a hard no to the sample?" You said, causing the guy to raise an eyebrow. 

"Just pay up, don't be cheap," he said with crossed arms. 

"It's a party. Obviously, I didn't bring any money with me, I've never needed it."

The guy just shook his head and walked away, leaving you alone and needy. 

No samples. No dealers. You couldn't contact Yoongi at the moment either, which meant drugs were now out of the question. So much for having fun. 

You downed your cup of beer, though you knew the most it would do was leave you buzzed. You could always start searching for the vodka you had seen earlier, but your dad was coming back tomorrow and you didn't want to be dealing with a killer hangover when meeting him. 

While your mind did back flips trying to figure out a way to salvage the night, your gaze caught Jimin at the other side of the room. He was laughing with a girl, rarely taking a sip from his cup as he listened to the girl talk about things you couldn't hear. 

You've heard a lot of people say that taking heroin feels like having 1000 orgasms at once. Obviously, there was nothing else that could achieve such a feeling.

But there was definitely something that came close.

As if hearing your thoughts, Jimin's eyes, which had been scanning the room nonchalantly, fell on your figure. When you didn't look away, he tilted his head, almost like he was asking a question. 

Your gaze flickered to the staircase before landing back on him. Hoping he'd get the hint, you started making your way up them, not waiting to see if he was following. 

Asking for sex was one thing you would not grant Park Jimin. If he wanted it, he was going to have to be smart enough to get it. 

After checking in on a few rooms, you finally entered one that wasn't occupied with a moaning mess of bodies. It was luxurious, with a king sized bed wrapped in comfy looking sheets, a fluffy carpet coating most of the floor and a mini chandelier hanging overhead. 

It made you wonder what the hell Taehyung's parents did for a living. 

Before you could ponder any further, the sound of the room’s door opening and then closing quickly pulled you out of your thoughts, which was then followed by the sound of light footsteps treading carefully on the wooden floor. 

When the footsteps softened because of the carpet, you turned around to find Jimin standing barely a foot away from you, his gaze focused on your still form. Now that the prospect of sex was a lot more likely, you let yourself properly enjoy the sight of him. Your eyes first started with his body, taking in the toned muscles that peaked through his white shirt and then his thick thighs that were exposed through his ripped jeans. 

"It looks like you've changed your mind," he said, taking a step closer, causing you to take a step back.

But Jimin simply took another step forward until you could feel the cold wall press into your back. One of his hands leaned against the wall behind your head while the other leaned against the wall beside your stomach, caging you in the process. It forced you to focus on his face now, rather than his body. His orange hair was still dishevelled, framing his face perfectly. Despite the softness of his cheeks, his jawline was sharp, along with his eyes and nose. With how close he was, you could see every dip and pore in his face, yet somehow you couldn't find a single flaw on his skin. 

His eyes scanned your own body and face the same way you had barely a second ago, pupils dilating in desire.

"Can I touch you, kitten?"

Ignoring the nickname, your gaze travelled down to his lips, which looked so soft and plump. You wanted to know how they would feel on your skin, especially on your own lips. 

You nodded slowly before breathing out your answer, "yes."

Jimin wasted no time pulling you closer towards him. He let his hands run down your arms and rest at your waist as his eyes flickered between your lips and neck, as if conflicted as to which one to start with.

As he pulled your waist against him, his lips started on your neck, leaving behind light kisses that gradually became more and more heated. His hand rubbed circles against your hip, in an oddly reassuring manner, while his lips started to lower to your collarbone. 

Your breathing started to intensify as Jimin left open mouthed kisses against your neck and jaw. 

"I was hoping you'd change your mind," he breathed against your neck. A new set of pleasuring shivers travelled down your spine.

"Why's that?"

His hand, which had been resting on your hip, traveled upwards to cup your cheek, "I wasn't joking when I said you had a pretty face."

The hand cupping your cheek suddenly pulled you forward as Jimin connected your lips with his. They were so soft and plump as they moved against yours, causing your stomach to flutter in satisfaction. You never realised just how pleasurable making out was until today.

Jimin’s lips travelled back to your neck as he continued to drop heated kisses against your skin. You could still feel his hand rubbing circles into your hip while the other brushed against your cheek to hold your head steady. 

Feeling a little hazy, your hand disappeared into your pocket to bring out the white bottle Yoongi had given you this morning. As Jimin continued to wreck your neck in the most pleasurable way possible, you opened the bottle behind his back and moved it to down a pill or two. 

But the sound of its opening caused Jimin to look up until he eyed the bottle in your hand. 

"Are those drugs?" He asked suddenly, pulling away from you slightly. 

"No they're just Skittles," you replied sarcastically, moving the bottle towards your lips once again. But before you could pop even one pill, Jimin swiped the bottle out of your hand and chucked it into the trash can across the room. 

"Wh- Hey! What the hell?!" You protested, but he gently pushed you back against the wall.

"No drugs in the bedroom."

Before you could scoff he closed the distance between the two of you once again, letting his lips brush against your ear, "you're in my bedroom, Y/N. That means you follow my rules."

As if to make a point, he brushed his fingers against the inside of your clothed thigh, pulling a heavy breath from your lips. 

Your irritation soon morphed into pleasure as Jimin brought his lips to yours once again. One of his hands was still rubbing circles against your hip, but the other had moved down to your waist to pull you closer to him. 

“Why did you-” he paused at the sight of you as he pulled back for a moment. Swollen lips, messy hair, heavy pants… Jimin didn’t think he’d ever encountered someone hotter in his entire life. 

He cleared his throat, hoping you didn’t notice the pause, “why’d you change your mind?”

You took him in for a moment. His rust-coloured hair was dishevelled, with a few strands falling onto his forehead, while his plush lips separated to accommodate his heavy breaths. 

You shrugged. 

“I wanted to try a different kind of fun,”

“Fun?” He repeated with a grin.

You felt his hand circle your wrist before he guided you away from the wall. From this angle, you got to enjoy his back muscles peeking from his white shirt before he turned back to you. 

“Clothes off. Get on the bed,” he instructed, pulling his shirt over his head and throwing it to a corner. 

“I’ll show you what fun is, kitten.”

Next Chapter...

Chapter 2: Busted [M]

Summary: “A manwhore and a junkie… it’s a match made in heaven.”

Pairing: Park Jimin x Reader

Genre: High School au, angst

Word Count: 8.9k

Warnings: 18+, substance use disorder/drug addiction, PTSD, child abuse, additional warnings might be added as story progresses

A/N: Sorry for taking forever to update, a lack of motivation and school are to blame :( On another note, thanks for that anon's kind words, comments like that really help to keep me motivated!

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Jimin lurched upright as the sound of the door shuddering violently reverated around the room, his heart hammering wildly in his chest. For a fleeting moment, he was back in his childhood bedroom, watching his door be slammed against repeatedly while his father let out a string of threats from behind the wooden structure. 

But instead of his father bursting into the room, it was Taehyung, who looked exhausted and distressed. 

“Party’s over, get out,” he announced, pausing when he noticed who was sitting up on the bed, “oh, it’s just you.”

Taehyung looked into the hallway for a moment, shouting at someone to hurry up, before poking his head back into the room, “are you staying over? My parents won’t mind, you already know they love you more than me.”

Jimin chuckled, trying to mask his erratic heartbeat, “they won’t mind me, but what about her?”

Their gazes both dropped on you, who was still sleeping peacefully beside Jimin under the soft covers of the bed. He found it funny how Taehyung’s incessant banging hadn’t even caused you to stir in your spot. 

“Yeah no, definitely not. She needs to go.”

Jimin nodded, expecting as much, “I guess I can stay over tonight, just let me wake her up.”

“Great!” Taehyung declared, clapping his hands together, “but when you’re done that, sleep in the second bedroom, not this one. My parents would kill me if they thought I made you sleep in some random guest room.”

“Because I have parents!” He raised his voice suddenly so everyone rushing in the hallways could hear him, “I’m not one of those frat boys whose parents go on week-long business trips! Mine will be back in a few hours from a date, so everyone get out of my house!”

After watching Taehyung scurry back into the halls, Jimin turned towards your sleeping form. 

You were completely passed out as you laid on the mattress with the comforter covering half your face and a pillow fixed snuggly between your arms. The part of your face that Jimin could see was puffy from the few hours of sleep the two of you had managed. 

“Y/N?” He tried, repeating your name a few times. 

But the most you did was shift in your position, and even that had been at his last repeat of your name. With a sigh, Jimin shuffled closer to you, letting his hand rest on your bare arm tentatively while he called your name once again. 

It was only when he shook your arm when you finally shifted, “hm?”

“The party’s over, you have to go kitten,” Jimin answered. He felt you slipping back to sleep, causing him to catch your arm and pull you into a sitting position. 

The change in posture had you blinking lazily as Jimin’s figure appeared before you, top exposed and sitting up in the bed the two of you had apparently spent the night in. His orange hair was sticking out in multiple directions while his eyes were slightly squinted due to his sleepy form. 

The party’s over…

Party? Yes, party… there had been a party and then you and Jimin had sex and then the two of you had fallen asleep. 

Reluctantly, you turned to take in the rest of the room, which was still dark aside from the bedside table lamps and a sliver of moonlight which had escaped through the window. If the moon was still out, then that meant the two of you must have only slept for a few hours. 

“Hey,” Jimin spoke up after a couple of seconds, noticing your groggy form, “you good?”

You blinked a couple of times cluelessly, wishing instead to just burrow back into the sheets and sleep for days. Your body felt like an anchor: heavy and unwilling to move until a sturdy metal chain was ready to drag you out of the bed. 

“Did you come here alone?” He asked when you didn’t answer, assessing your state carefully. Your nod came after a few moments too long as your mind struggled to process his question. 

That made Jimin’s eyebrows furrow, “okay, I’ll take you home. It’s still pretty late in the night and I don’t think you can drive in this state.”

With that said, he pushed himself out of bed, the blanket falling to the floor to reveal his toned back as he began throwing on his clothes. It wasn’t until he was pulling his shirt over his head when you forced yourself to stumble to your feet and do the same. 

-

-

-

The cool air felt fresh against your skin as the two of you walked along the road quietly side by side. It had taken Jimin forever to get your address and car keys in order to drive you home, but once he had parked your car in front of your house, he only needed one look at the abnormally long distance between the separate driveway and the front door to decide that your exhausted form wouldn’t last two steps without him. 

Your house wasn’t like most, slotted between a row of other houses to form a crowded and organised community. Rather it was located far away from any neighbourhoods, and instead nestled between large acres of grassy land. Jimin would’ve guessed it was farmland, but in the dark he found it hard to make out any crops or barns with animals, so he couldn’t say for sure. 

That led to the two of you walking along a dirt-packed footpath, with Jimin keeping a firm hand on your arm to make sure you wouldn’t fall from exhaustion. It still irked him as to how you could still be so tired even now. Sure, you weren’t exactly running on a full night’s sleep, but the few hours you had managed should have been enough to ensure you weren’t a walking zombie. 

“Was it the sex?” He finally asked, “How can you be this tired?”

Even in your exhausted state you still managed to shoot him a withering glare. 

“If you had just let me take the Adderall earlier, I wouldn’t be like this.”

Jimin’s expression fell quickly, a sinking feeling in his stomach, “why? You don’t need it.”

“How would you know? I have a prescription,” you lied smoothly, “do you not believe in mental health, Park Jimin?”

You tried to remember what Adderall was actually used for to really sell your lie, but your mind was much too hazy to manage that level of thinking.

An amused scoff escaped Jimin’s lips, “really? What do you take it for?”

You almost groaned out loud as you went back to racking your brain. BPD? ASPD? IBD? Ugh, why did so many disorders exist in the first place?

“It doesn’t matter,” you finally huffed, giving up on the ability of your thoughts, “I don’t owe you my medical history anywa-”

Before you could finish your sentence, a pebble caught between the edge of your shoe and the dirt-packed ground, causing you to stumble. With how sluggish you felt, your face would have gotten some serious reshaping if it wasn’t for Jimin’s hand that kept you steady,

“The bottle didn’t have a prescription label with your name on it,” Jimin said, pulling you up, “you don’t have to lie to me.”

That made you groan, “if you’re going to tell me about the dangers of drugs and how I’m going to die alone I don’t want to hear it. I have no energy to deal with that right now.”

But to your surprise he didn’t say anything, even after the two of you had arrived at your front door. Instead, Jimin turned towards you, an unreadable expression evident on his face. Or maybe you were just too tired to make out the meaning of his facial features.

For a brief moment, his lips parted, hinting at an unspoken thought he might have wanted to express. But after a moment of silence, he ultimately closed his mouth, choosing instead to look away.

“Sleep tight, kitten,” he said finally, turning around and making his way back to the car without another glance, “I’ll see you on Monday.”

You watched him drive off, much too tired to think any more of the recent events. 

-

-

-

The next morning the shrill sound of your alarm was quick to spring to life, causing you to groan irritably. You slammed a pillow over your ear in a desperate attempt to block out the deafening noise, hoping that it would at least be enough to get you a few more seconds of sleep, but the soft barrier couldn’t do much to dampen the piercing screech. Frustrated, you threw the pillow off of you, letting it’s useless form fall to the floor. 

With the pillow gone, the first thing that hit you was the sunlight. It travelled into the room through your window, setting fire to your surroundings as if someone had accidentally brought the sun in here. It was too bright. Everything was too bright and too loud and too hot. 

Wishing for some semblance of peace, you finally turned towards your bedside table to pick up your phone and shut off the annoyingly loud alarm. It felt a little better, but it wasn’t enough. The sunlight was still so bright it hurt your eyes, while your body still felt heavy. And you were hungry too. So hungry you felt like you could eat a whole cow if you were given the chance. 

“God Adderall crash is such a pain,” you whined as you turned towards your bedside table and began rummaging through the drawers. You pushed past safety pins, hair ties, hairbrushes, some old papers…

Your eyebrows furrowed as you continued searching, but ultimately failed to produce a small white bottle that was your salvation at the moment. You just got a new bottle from Yoongi, where could it be?

You forced yourself to recount yesterday's events, ignoring your rumbling stomach and sore arms. The bottle had been in your pocket as you were leaving school, so it couldn’t still be there. Then you attended Taehyung’s party where you drank some beer and failed to find some drugs, so instead you had sex with Jimin-

You flopped back into your bed as the realisation came crashing down on you. Jimin. Park Jimin had taken your bottle and thrown it away. Your last tiny bottle of Adderall was now in a trash can in Taehyung’s house. 

Your body suddenly felt ten times heavier at the thought. The last time you were out of Adderall, you had to go through a week of fatigue, headaches, and an intense desire to eat everything in sight. You could not go through that again.

With newfound determination, you stumbled out of your room and down the stairs to enter the kitchen. Your goal had been to search the cabinets for some Adderall you might have stashed in the past for later, but the sight of the fridge had derailed that goal. You couldn’t help but grab yesterday’s leftover noodles and shovel them into your mouth as you simultaneously began searching the cabinets. You had to have at least one stash hidden somewhere in the house. 

Though the more you rummaged through the cabinets, the more frustrated you were becoming. They were filled with nothing but decade old spices and some granola bars you couldn’t help but eat alongside your noodles. 

Ultimately you huffed in frustration as you shut the last cabinet and collapsed onto the floor of the kitchen, still no Adderall in hand. Yoongi couldn’t contact you until the police were off his back and you didn’t have any other dealer you could go to. It had already taken you so long to find someone as trustworthy as him. What were you going to do?

Could you get your bottle back from Taehyung’s house? There’s no way that rich kid with a bunch of maids wouldn’t have already replaced all the trash cans in his house, and there’s no way you’d find your small white bottle in all that trash after a party. 

You munched on one of the granola bars as you tried to figure out some other solution to your problem, but with your mind going through withdrawal, it was pretty much useless. There was no hope.

As you sat tiredly on the kitchen floor, biting at your granola bar and finishing up the noodles, your gaze suddenly caught onto a flash of white near your fridge. Confused, you scooted closer to it.

Your eyes widened in excitement as you noticed a small white bottle wedged between the bottom of the fridge and the counter. You knew it. You knew there had to have been one bottle left.

But as you grabbed at the small container, it became apparent even to your unfocused mind that the bottle of Adderall was completely empty. Not even one pill for you to at least get through the day. 

Tired, still hungry, and mind foggier than ever, you just wanted to burrow back into your bed and sleep for the rest of the week. And you were about to do just that until the sound of the kitchen door slamming shut behind you caused you to flinch. 

“Y/N?”

The mind that was struggling to form even one thought suddenly froze altogether at the familiar voice. Eyes wide and bottle in hand, you slowly turned to find your father standing near the kitchen’s doorway. There was a white plastic shopping bag hanging from his hand as he first scanned your form on the kitchen floor, the granola bar wrappers on the dining table…

And then the empty bottle of Adderall in your hand.

Crap.

-

-

-

When Jimin thought of therapy, the first thing that usually came to mind was a minimalist living room with two neutral-coloured sofas, a matching coffee table, and an intrusive woman that was hell bent on finding out ‘how he feels.’

The sofas and coffee table were definitely no stereotype, confirmed by the beige couch he was sitting on now and the glass coffee table standing right before him. 

The intrusive woman, on the other hand, remained yet to be seen. 

Jimin’s gaze jumped around the room anxiously as his arms leaned against his knees, taking in the tall bookshelf that he assumed was filled with self help books, an abstract painting filled with strokes of blue, black, and white, and a window displaying the vast view of the city’s many buildings. 

He had been so preoccupied with scanning the window that the sudden sound of the door opening made him flinch. His head snapped towards the door behind him, revealing a woman in her late twenties walking into the room. She was dressed professionally, with a simple white blouse tucked into black dress pants, while her straight brown hair flowed freely beneath her shoulders. 

“Hello Jimin,” she greeted with a smile when she noticed his seated form, “you’re early. That’s good.”

Jimin greeted her back politely as he watched her take a seat on the identical sofa in front of him. Her sudden entrance had only increased the anxiety he felt towards the fact that he couldn’t see the door. If someone else were to walk through it quietly enough, he wouldn’t even know. Anyone could just sneak up on him just like that…

“I’m sorry,” he finally spoke up, unable to contain his anxiety much more, “could we- um, switch seats?”

Instead of confusion, there was only understanding apparent on the woman’s face, “of course.”

He thanked her as they changed seats. With both the window and the door in his sights he felt a little less anxious. 

Once everything had been settled, the woman gave him a warm smile, “my name is Lauren, and I will be your therapist for the duration of your sessions.”

“How long is this going to take?” Jimin couldn’t help but ask. He didn’t want to be rude, he knew Lauren was only doing her job, but for some reason her presence made him anxious. He felt like she could see through him and reveal every part of himself he’d much rather stay hidden. 

“This, as well as your future sessions, will be around fifty to sixty minutes long. During this time, we will be focusing on your feelings in reaction to the traumatic event, but we won’t be focusing on that too much today since I’ll be doing most of the talking.”

Lauren held up a binder that was sitting on her lap,“I’ll have your treatment manual in my lap and will be referring to it throughout our sessions to ensure I deliver the psychotherapy as it was prescribed. Please don’t hesitate to ask questions as the session unfolds.”

Jimin simply nodded, eyeing the beige pendulum wall clock that had barely moved since she had walked into the room. Seeing as only a minute or two had gone by, he knew this was going to be the longest hour of his life. 

Oblivious to his apprehension, Lauren began to give him an overview of what would normally go on in their sessions before she explained the outline of their current session. It wasn’t until she had moved onto a different topic when Jimin’s straying attention was caught once again. 

“According to your CAPS score, you met diagnostic criteria for PTSD, which is a mental health condition that often develops after experiencing a distressing event. PTSD is characterised by three clusters of symptoms: re-experiencing, avoidance and numbing, and hyperarousal. Could you give me some examples of symptoms you experience that would fall under any of these clusters?

There was a moment of silence as Jimin shifted uncomfortably, “I get frequent nightmares- that would fall under re-experiencing. And last night, for a moment, I thought I was back in my childhood room and my dad was banging against the door. Sort of like a mini flashback.”

Lauren nodded, encouraging him to continue.

“For avoidance and numbing… I try to avoid thinking or talking about what happened altogether. I also kind of feel detached from others, but I couldn’t really explain that in detail even if you asked me to.”

“As for hyperarousal symptoms…” Jimin paused, “Taehyung always tells me I keep my guard up a lot. I’ve also noticed that small things tend to startle me as well.”

Lauren nodded, “re-experiencing symptoms, like your nightmares, are related to hyperarousal symptoms, like your hypervigilance. Both of these symptoms usually elicit a desire to either avoid, become numb, or both. Ironically, trying to avoid or numb your feelings ends up maintaining, or even increasing, your PTSD symptoms. Which is why the more you avoid or numb, the worse your condition gets. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah, I guess,” he responded, eyeing the clock once again as her words flew over his head..

“Everyone has existing beliefs that encompass how they see themselves, others and the world. When these beliefs are challenged by things like traumatic events, people respond in different ways. Some might change their perception of the event to make sense of it and essentially blend it into their existing beliefs. This is a process called ‘assimilation.’ Another reaction can involve a process called ‘overaccommodation,’ which involves an individual drastically changing their entire belief system to make the traumatic event fit. Trauma usually affects various areas of beliefs, including safety, trust, power or control, esteem, and intimacy.”

“Another important thing to note is that if someone already had negative beliefs about these aspects before the traumatic event, the event could further reinforce those negative beliefs. Make sense?”

Jimin simply nodded, not entirely understanding much of what she was saying; he just wanted the session to be over with faster. It felt like his brain was going to explode with all the new information that was being thrown at him and his distaste only grew when she asked him to describe his upbringing. 

Even though he knew talking was all therapy was about, he really didn’t want to talk about his crappy past. He’s done a great job of pretending it didn’t exist up until now. 

“My dad did drugs all throughout my life,” Jimin forced himself to say, reminding himself that he had to at least give this thing a try if he wanted to get better, “ they were really hard ones too. They would make him have these hallucinations where he was convinced my mom was cheating on him, or that she and I were planning his downfall or something.”

“Because of that he used to beat my mom a lot, so badly she’d end up in the hospital sometimes. He tried to beat me too, to ‘teach me a lesson,’ but my mom would always protect me by diverting his attention onto her. She did that for the first seven years of my life before she decided that she’d had enough of being my human shield and ran away. My dad’s drug use got ten times worse after that, and with no one to stop him, he began beating me instead.”

Jimin’s gaze dropped to his fidgety hands, “I wonder if my mom left because she had gotten sick of raising me as well. I guess I was a little hyper for my age, maybe if I had been a more quiet and obedient kid she would’ve taken me with her when she left.”

He noticed Lauren write something down in her binder, but decided not to voice his curiosity. When she finished, she looked up at him with sympathy evident in her eyes. 

“I’m sorry you had to go through that Jimin, you didn’t deserve what your father did to you all those years.”

Jimin merely shrugged, though his gaze wouldn’t meet hers. 

“Many people experience traumatic events in their lives, but not everyone develops chronic PTSD symptoms. This is because of a concept commonly known as ‘stuck points.’ Stuck points refer to certain ways of thinking about trauma and about oneself, others, and the world that act as barriers to healing and moving forward. These patterns of thought basically keep a person ‘stuck’ in their distress and contribute to the persistence of PTSD symptoms. This is why the main goal of these therapy sessions will be to figure out what prevented your recovery.”

“But in order to achieve this goal, we’ll have to explore your trauma. Could you provide a five minute account of the traumatic event you experienced?”

That made Jimin scoff, “I got beat up several times a month for years. How am I supposed to pick one?”

“Which of those events do you think about the most? Which event do you dislike thinking about the most? Remember it doesn’t need to be detailed, just a brief overview of what happened.”

Jimin’s dread intensified as his restlessness only increased. But the session was close to ending soon. The faster he got this over with, the faster he could leave. 

“I get the most nightmares about the night my dad died,” he recounted emotionlessly, the pace of his words quickening, “I was in my bedroom with my girlfriend when my dad suddenly started banging against the door. I let him in, but realised he was hallucinating some insane story which made him hurt my girlfriend. I ended up taking a bat to his head which eventually killed him.”

“You did a great job sharing that with me,” she praised, “how do you feel after sharing that memory?”

“Like I want to leave,” he said honestly. 

Instead of taking offence, Lauren simply nodded in understanding. 

“‘Natural’ emotions are feelings that are proportionate reactions to experiences that have occurred. For example, if we’re placed in a dangerous situation, it’s natural to feel fear. The diminishing course of these emotions means that allowing ourselves to feel these natural emotions will eventually cause them to naturally dissipate. ‘Manufactured’ emotions, on the other hand, are emotions that we contribute in making through the frequency of certain thoughts. For example, if a person tells himself he’s ugly again and again, he will likely feel more and more anger towards himself. This is why another goal of therapy will be to figure out how you have been manufacturing emotions that are unhelpful to you.”

“So to summarise, the three major goals of therapy will be to, one, remember and accept what happened by not avoiding those memories and associated feelings. Two, to allow yourself to feel your natural emotions so that the memory can be put away without such strong feelings still attached. And, three, to balance beliefs that had been disrupted or reinforced so that you can stop manufacturing unhelpful emotions.”

The mention of ‘feeling his emotions’ made Jimin want to crawl out of his own skin. 

Lauren then put up a strong case for how important it would be for Jimin to do the out-of-session practice she’d be assigning him at the end of every session, emphasising that not doing those assignments would mean that Jimin would only be spending 1-2 out of 168 hours a week on his recovery, and that doing the assignments would help him reduce his inclination towards avoidance. His nods felt automatic as his gaze stayed fixed to the wall clock, urging its hands to move faster. Recounting his past had left him jittery and all he wanted to do now was lock himself in his room, away from the world and especially away from the therapy that he was disliking more and more every minute. 

But seemingly satisfied with his response, Lauren handed him a worksheet anyway, “your first assignment will be to write an Impact Statement about the meaning of the event you recounted today. This is not a trauma account. Rather, it’s simply designed to get behind the meaning of the event in your life and how it impacted your belief systems.”

He took a look at the worksheet, seeing that it only reiterated what Lauren had said to write in more detail, before hesitantly taking it from her outstretched hand. The two of them then exchanged a few pleasantries as he rushed through the doorway. 

Jimin couldn’t seem to run out of that place fast enough. 

-

-

-

Your muscles stayed frozen as your father continued to stand in the doorway of the kitchen, glare directed towards the white bottle in your hand. You couldn’t believe you had completely forgotten that he was coming home today, your mind too occupied with finding a solution to your current Adderall predicament, and now here he was catching you in the kitchen with an empty bottle of Adderall in your hand. 

You were so screwed.

Your father finally walked deeper into the kitchen before snatching the bottle from your fingers and inspecting it thoroughly.

“Is this what I think it is?”

“Listen dad, I completely forgot you were coming home tod-”

“We had a deal, Y/N,” he interrupted, crossing his arms, “what do you have to say for yourself?”

You pursed your lips, unable to put up any defence. He seemed to study your form in silence as you pushed yourself off the floor and opted to lean against the dining table instead, still much too tired to even stand on your own. Whatever he saw must have been pathetic enough for him to simply sigh instead of scold your ears off. 

“Forget it,” he huffed before turning around and making his way towards the porch. 

“Come on, I brought some food.”

-

-

“God, you know I hate the smell of weed dad,” you whined, waving a hand under your nose like it would do anything to dampen the putrid smell. 

The two of you sat on the porch overlooking the vast acres of land that surrounded your house comfortably, making use of the white plastic table and chairs that were at least a decade old. Usually you would appreciate the beauty of the view, with its luscious green grass, bright blue sky, and fresh airy breeze that were completely absent in the city. 

Today though you were miserable with withdrawal, so the green grass and blue sky were much too bright for your eyes, and the fresh air was obscured by the smoke coming out of the fat blunt between your father’s fingers. 

“I already told you the smell goes away after a few minutes,” your dad responded, “here, take some. It’ll help you feel less crappy during your Adderall Crash.”

Normally you would decline. You weren’t a fan of smoking, even if it was weed, since it always made you cough your lungs out. But with your current Adderall withdrawal and the prospect of having to feel this way for the next week looming over your head, you uncharacteristically accepted your father’s blunt before taking a long drag of the thing. 

Just like always, you had to cough it out for a moment.

“Ah, I feel like I’ve failed you as a father for not teaching you how to smoke properly.”

“Most fathers wouldn’t let their kids near this stuff in the first place,” you deadpanned. 

Your father was much too high at that point to take any offence to that and instead laughed. 

“So,” you began, wanting to change the subject, “how was work?”

He took a moment to answer, “work’s work. I drive a giant truck here and then I drive a giant truck there. Drove a little farther away than usual yesterday. The view was incredible, like something straight out of Narnia”

You nodded, beginning to feel your mind and body relax from the drag you had taken earlier. You watched your father open the white plastic bag and bring out some takeout, announcing that he had gotten it on his way back home. He handed you a burger and fries as he brought out one for himself.

“So, care to explain to me why I found you on the floor of the kitchen with an empty bottle of Adderall in your hand?” Your father asked, taking a bite out of his burger. 

You threw a few fries into your mouth, chewing on the crunchy exterior while the inner softness melted on your tongue. Maybe weed wasn’t your thing, but even you had to admit that eating when high on the stuff was just another experience in itself. It had the power to turn even the worst fast food into the most delicious, five-star food known to man. 

“I’m out of Addy,” you finally admitted.

“Addy?”

“Adderall.”

“Right,” your father said, “I can’t keep up with the slang you kids keep inventing nowadays. But anyways, I figured that much. I meant to ask why?”

“I’m sorry dad, I know I promised that I’d get some for your friend since he’s been asking for it, but my dealer had to go in hiding because the police had been tipped off about him and now I don’t have any for myself much less your friend.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” your dad shrugged, not as annoyed by it as earlier. You weren’t sure whether it was because he’d gotten over it or because he was high. 

It was probably the latter.

“You wouldn’t happen to know anyone that could get some for me would you?” You asked hopefully, though the weed was making you feel a lot less concerned about it at the moment. 

Unfortunately your dad just shook his head, “my plug doesn’t really deal the small stuff like Adderall. I can give you some Ritalin though? I have a prescription for it for my job. I heard it’s basically the same thing.”

“I’ve heard the same,” you thought for a moment. Honestly you were desperate for anything at this point, “I’ll take it then. Thanks.”

“No problem, sweetheart.”

The two of you sat in silence for a moment, your relaxed minds taking in the scenery before you. Unlike earlier, you were starting to enjoy the sight of the fields, with its soft green grass and glorious sky. The soft breeze felt fresh against your skin as you continued to bite into your delicious burger. 

“By the way, what happened to your car? Did you take it to the mechanic or something?” Your dad asked absentmindedly, “I didn’t see it in the driveway.”

“What? Are you sure?” You asked as your eyebrows furrowed. Your car should’ve been parked in the driveway since the party last ni-

You suddenly stumbled to your feet, grabbing onto the railing when you felt a wave of dizziness hit your head. You hadn’t driven your car back home last night, Jimin did. But he had left your house driving a car too. That meant…

A gasp slipped from your lips as you rounded a corner, scanning the empty driveway now standing before you. Aside from your dad’s enormous truck, your black compact Toyota was nowhere in sight. 

“He stole my car,” you realised incredulously. 

That bastard stole your car.

-

-

-

“Jeez Y/N calm down, you’re shaking the whole table,” Namjoon whispered, eyeing the teacher as she continued to lecture the class.

You were seated in your last period classroom, practically counting down the seconds as you waited for the bell to finally dismiss the absolute nightmare of a day you were having. When you had asked your dad for some Ritalin, you had expected him to hand you Ritalin. Whatever he had actually given you had to be far from it though, because there was no way anyone would subject themselves to what you were going through. 

Since the morning you’ve felt like a ticking time bomb, too much energy packed into a single human being. You couldn’t stop moving, which was evident in your persistently shaking leg and constantly fidgeting fingers. Technically you did manage to focus in class, but it had taken a lot more energy than you usually needed to compared to when you were on Adderall. 

At this point, you were just waiting for the awful effects to wear off, but you didn’t know whether your father had given you the extended-release form or the immediate-release form. You hoped it was the latter because you could not endure this for another 7 hours. 

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Namjoon asked, laying a hand on your finger. You hadn’t even realised you had started tapping against your desk anxiously. 

“God, I’m so jittery right now,” you admitted, willing time to go faster, “I shouldn’t have taken that Ritalin.”

Namjoon’s gaze narrowed as he let out a frustrated breath, “of course it’s the drugs. Why should I even bother thinking otherwise at this point?”

Choosing to ignore the comment, you tried to calm your shaky hands to no avail. As if you weren’t anxious enough, now Namjoon’s frustrated, and slightly worried, gaze drilled into the side of your head. 

Thankfully, the sound of the bell reverberated around the classroom a few minutes later, signifying the end of the period. The second the teacher dismissed you all with a wave of her hand, you were out the door, ignoring Namjoon’s inquiries about where you were going. You may have been the most energetic you’ve ever been in the past few years, but you still hadn’t forgotten that there was something important you needed to do. 

So you pushed past the hundreds of students beginning to crowd the hallway, searching through a sea of maroon and dark grey uniforms for a certain orange-haired menace. You’d seen him in your second period, taking advantage of his seat that was directly behind you by annoying you to no extent throughout the class. Then the coward had left class 5 minutes early so that he didn’t have to face your wrath after the bell rang. 

Your only option now was to search for him after school, which you did in the cafeteria, gymnasium, and a bunch of classrooms, but he was nowhere in sight. You were even debating checking out the principal's office in case the idiot had gotten himself detention. 

Fortunately you didn’t need to make a fool of yourself in front of any school faculty when you turned into a relatively deserted hallway and noticed a flash of orange. 

You found Jimin standing with his back towards a row of lockers, speaking casually with a frustrated-looking Taehyung. He looked really angry, though you weren’t close enough to hear what they were talking about. Despite his friend’s evident irritation, Jimin seemed completely nonchalant. The first few buttons of his uniform had been undone, revealing a sliver of his toned collarbone while his tie hung loosely from his neck. 

But you pushed Jimin’s good looks and Taehyung’s frustration aside, opting instead to march up to the man you’ve been searching for. 

When you were close enough, his gaze finally noticed your form, eyebrows raising for a moment before a smirk overtook his features. 

“Well, look what we have here. What’s wrong, ki-”

But you had no desire to entertain the jerk for any longer than you needed to. Instead, you grabbed his collar, surprising Taehyung who hadn’t even realised you were there, and dragged him through the hallway before entering the school’s only gender neutral bathroom. The door slammed shut behind you as you focused your glare onto him. 

Jimin merely chuckled.

“If you wanted round two so badly, you only had to ask, kitten.”

Maybe it was the Ritalin that was fueling your irritation, because the sound of that nickname had you a lot more annoyed than usual. 

“My car.”

Jimin leaned against the bathroom wall, crossing his arms as he scanned your form. 

“Come again?”

“You stole my car,” you spat, trying to contain your annoyance. You felt like you had so much energy, mixed with anger that was a dangerous combination.

“Your car,” he said finally, a hint of amusement in his voice, “I have it, yes.”

His nonchalance wasn’t helping either. 

“Just because you drove me home that night, doesn’t mean you have permission to steal my car. You think you get to have something like that just for being a decent human being? I could’ve called a cab if I wanted to you know-”

You paused when you noticed his smile widen, clearly amused by your anger. This jerk…

“I can call the police for this, Park Jimin. Just because you gave me a good time once doesn’t mean I’ll feel guilty for having you arrested for taking my car. Have fun in jail you as-”

“I didn’t take your car because I wanted it,” Jimin interrupted, pushing himself off the wall before making his way towards you. It was only then when you realised that he wasn’t wearing his blazer, only the standard white button up that struggled to hide his toned body. 

“I took your car,” he continued, stride ending right in front of you, “because I wanted you.”

That made you scoff.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

You hated the way his proximity made it so much easier for your gaze to travel down his neck and linger at his collarbone. It was bringing back memories from the party, so much so that you could practically feel his plush lips on your skin as you stared at him now. The ghost of his hand rubbing circles into your waist also did not go unnoticed by you. 

“It means that I wanted to see you again,” he reiterated, his own gaze dropping to your lips, as if he were having the same thoughts. 

You watched his hand disappear into his pocket and return with your car keys before placing them in your hand.

“Your car’s in the parking lot,” he said in a low voice, still focused on your lips, “you can go to it right now.”

But you felt stuck under his gaze, unable to rip your own away from the movement of his plump lips as he spoke. You remembered the feeling of them on your lips, how good it felt when they had brushed against the bottom lip roughly.

Seeing that you weren’t moving, Jimin let his arms trap you against the door, bringing his face closer to yours as he whispered, “or you could stay here with me. Would you like that, kitten? To stay here with me and see what happens?”

At this point, he was so close you could feel the heat from his body on yours. The images from that night were fueling your lust. There was no doubt that that night had been amazing, and now here Jimin was giving you a chance at feeling that all over again. 

Hesitantly, your fingers hovered just above his shoulders before you let them slowly travel down to his chest. You watched his muscles tense under your touch, an oddly vulnerable reaction from a guy like him.

You shouldn’t…

You really shouldn’t…

But why? Because Jimin is a prick that you can barely stand? Because the thought of giving him exactly what he wants makes you want to put yourself in timeout? He stole your car for god’s sake. He annoyed you during class.

But he’s so hot. 

How could you be expected to ignore the sharp lines of his jaw? The muscled expanse of his strong shoulders and chest? The deep resonance of his voice? You can’t. Not when all of it is standing right in front of you, shooting you with a gaze that could light you on fire. 

It’s not like you’re agreeing to date, you thought. Sex is just sex, and you’re sure Jimin has it with a bunch of other girls all the time. It would barely mean anything to him. It would definitely mean nothing to you. 

You felt your hand continue to travel up his skin until it stopped at his neck, waiting for you to make another move. You probably should’ve pushed him away. Told him you weren’t that easy. 

But instead your fingers wrapped around his already loosened tie and slowly pulled him closer until his nose was barely an inch away from yours. The words that left your mouth next had a hint of a whisper in them. 

“You’re a jerk, Park Jimin.”

That was the closest to a ‘yes’ he was going to get from you. You had to keep some semblance of dignity. The man stole your car after all. 

The bathroom reverberated slightly at the sound of a click as Jimin locked the door behind you before you pulled him closer, allowing him to finally catch your lips with his. 

Your stomach burst at the feeling of his plump lips gliding against yours in a heated frenzy, one hand holding your cheek steady as the force of his kiss pushed you against the bathroom door. It was clear that the Jimin before you today was eager and impatient, unlike the Jimin that had taken his time that night at the party.

Right now, you couldn’t help but like it.

The hand holding your jaw pulled your face closer to his, deepening the kiss, while his other hand travelled down, brushing delicately against your neck, before grabbing at your waist. In that moment, Jimin’s tongue slipped into your mouth, exploring the space with a hunger that only rattled the butterflies flying wildly in your stomach. You felt him trace the inner lining of your lips, caressing your tongue- the action causing you to yelp unexpectedly in his mouth. As surprising as it was, you wanted him to do it again. 

Jimin pressed you against the door once again, the rough surface hard against your back, but this time all you could do was pull him into you more, encouraging him to continue dragging his tongue across your mouth. You basked in the heat of his chest so close to yours, the feeling of his hand on your waist, the sensation of his tongue on yours. You couldn’t seem to get enough. He knew exactly what to do and how to do it. Every passing second had you regretting your decision less and less, no matter how annoyed you still were at him. 

Distantly, you felt his middle finger rubbing circles into your waist. 

Jimin broke the kiss for a moment, filling the bathroom with heavy pants as the two of you were allowed to catch your breaths. Your fingers hovered over the buttons of his dress shirt, desperate to start opening them for the view you knew wouldn’t disappoint. 

Jimin, clearly noticing your impatience, let a breathy laugh escape his lips, “relax, kitten. I’ll have you moaning my name like a broken record soon enough.”

That had you scowling, which of course only seemed to amuse Jimin even more. You huffed, knowing your next words would come out weakly before they even left your lips. 

“We’ll see about that.”

-

-

-

“You were such a jerk for that.”

You faced the bathroom’s mirror as you finished adjusting your uniform so that it at least partly resembled itself before you had walked into the bathroom. Jimin had, unfortunately, succeeded in his earlier promise and more, which had you too embarrassed to turn around and face said man who you knew was just a few steps behind you. He'd practically taken every ounce of dignity you had left, and you had given it to him on a silver platter.

If only dignity felt as good as him. 

As if Jimin had heard your thoughts, he replied, “I made it worth your while, didn’t I?”

You could see him in the corner of the mirror, a sly smile plastered over his face as he peered at you through the mirror the same way you were watching him. It didn’t occur to you until now just how good his face would look with a soap dispenser thrown at it. 

To your surprise, he didn’t leave right after he had fixed up his uniform. Instead, he walked over to you before slightly pressing into you, the heat from his chest spreading to your clothed back as he leaned his arms on the sink. You could feel his breath on your neck as his lips brushed against your ear. 

“But let’s make one thing clear, kitten,” he breathed as the words caught your attention, his focus intense even though he was still holding your gaze through the mirror.

“The next time you want to go a round, you’ll have to ask for it. No ambiguous sex bathrooms or calling me a jerk to imply you want some. Just you. Asking me. Using your big girl words.”

“Only in your dreams will I want this again, Park Jimin,” you shot back so quickly you didn’t even have time to wonder what the hell ‘sex bathroom’ was supposed to mean. The fact that he thought there was going to be a next time was laughable. 

You simply got caught up in him and his looks this time. That’s all. This was not going to be a regular thing. You’d never let that happen. 

But Jimin gave you a knowing look, throwing your earlier words back at you, “we’ll see.”

You watched him reach in front of you, grabbing a few paper towels from the dispenser, before drying the hands he had just washed with them and then throwing them in the trash. Once that was done he finally stepped away from you, walking towards the door of the bathroom. 

He glanced at your state momentarily before opening it, “until next time.”

And, just like that, he was gone.

“Jerk,” you muttered, the word starting to gain a familiar spot on your tongue. 

After fixing yourself in the mirror one last time you walked out of the bathroom as well. To your surprise, Namjoon immediately ran up to you not a moment later. 

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” he panted, readjusting the strap of his backpack on his shoulder. But then his gaze shifted to behind you, seemingly noticing where you had come from, “why’d you use that bathroom? The only time people use it is for sex, you know that right?”

You turned to look back at the bathroom’s door, only now realising what ‘sex bathroom’ probably meant. Did Jimin think you had brought him in there on purpose? As some kind of ambiguous way of saying you wanted sex?

Oblivious to your thoughts, Namjoon ignored your silence, “whatever. Anyways I came here to tell you that you’re coming home with me today.”

That had you snapping back towards him, “what? No, I just want to go home and sleep off this Ritalin.”

Namjoon was shaking his head before you had even finished the sentence.

“Nope, you’re coming home with me and we’re finishing this math assignment together. Come on.”

“Wha-” He grabbed your arm before you could whine anymore and began dragging you behind him.

“Namjoon!”

-

-

-

“Where have you been?” Taehyung asked frustratedly as he watched his best friend make his way towards him. He had no clue where you had dragged him off, and honestly? He was too mad to care.

Jimin, on the other hand, seemed perfectly untroubled, ignoring Taehyung’s furrowed eyebrows and crossed arms to instead open up his locker. The question floated aimlessly in the deserted hallway for a moment before he huffed loudly.

“Don’t you have anything to say?”

Taehyung’s eyes widened as Jimin brought a textbook out of his locker, closed it, and then began walking towards the school’s exit. 

“Dude?!” He huffed incredulously, trailing Jimin from behind, “I’m talking to you!”

“And I’m ignoring you,” Jimin deadpanned. Taehyung felt himself take several steadying breaths to calm himself down, trying for a less aggressive approach.

“We were having a conversation before.”

“No, you were being tenacious. And I was trying to ignore you.”

“You’re not fine, Jimin!” Taehyung suddenly exploded, secretly thankful that the hallway was deserted, “you think I can’t see it? You think I’ve been blind these past few months?”

That had Jimin turning around, eyebrows furrowed, “what are you talking about?”

“Don’t act oblivious,” Taehyung spoke sharply, “you haven’t been sleeping properly. You’ve been pushing me away. You haven’t been okay for months- wait, no. Who am I kidding, you haven’t been okay for the past 3 years. But it’s never been this bad, Jimin. It’s been getting wor-”

“Okay,” Jimin interrupted, holding up a hand, “where is this coming from? I’ve been sleeping fi-”

“I heard you that night. At the party.”

“Wha-”

“When you came back from dropping Y/N off,” Taehyung admitted, eyes softening, “I could hear the nightmares, all of them. It’s never been this bad, Jimin.”

Jimin froze, eyes wide for a moment before he forced out a hesitant laugh, “you sure it was a nightmare? Because nightmares aren’t the only kinds of dreams that can have someone panting li-”

“Stop it,” Taehyung snapped, his voice nearing anger now, “stop using that mask on me. You can be carefree and flirty with anyone else, but we’re best friends. I know you better than that. Don’t insult me.”

Jimin let out a frustrated breath, very much tired of this conversation, “then what do you want, Taehyung?”

“What do I want? I want you to open up to me. Things have been getting worse, and yet the worse they get the more you shut me out. Just talk to me, man. Get some stuff off your chest. You can trust me. You know I’m not one to spill secrets to others.”

“I’m fine, Taehyung.”

“No, you’re not.”

Jimin ran a hand through his hair frustratedly. Taehyung has always cared about him so much, too much, for so many years. He gave Jimin a place to stay every time his dad kicked him out of the house. He never judged him for the bruises and scars littering his skin. He’s always made himself available for Jimin whenever he needed to vent about how crappy his life truly was. 

And he’s continued to help Jimin, even after his father died-

No.

After Jimin murdered him. 

Taehyung, of course, knows what went down that night. Maybe not every exact detail, because Jimin had just barely managed to tell him the watered down version of the story before he was a shaking heap of laboured breaths on the floor. But Jimin knew. He knew the look Taehyung had given him after hearing the story. 

Taehyung had judged Jimin. 

Taehyung had seen Jimin for who he really was that day. 

A murderer. A cold-hearted killer that had murdered his own father like it was nothing.

And yet, still, he’s been determined to stay by Jimin’s side. He’s always cared for him despite what his true thoughts of Jimin were. Taehyung’s heart was too big. And Jimin knew he was too undeserving of it. 

“As if the therapy wasn’t enough,” he mumbled, pushing the thoughts out of his mind. It was harder to push the mixed emotions starting to strain his chest.

Taehyung rolled his eyes, “as if you’re actually going to that.”

But Jimin’s silence had Taehyung’s eyes widening suddenly.

“Wait… You actually went?”

Hiding his hands in his pocket, Jimin nodded, feeling kind of vulnerable admitting that out loud. But he might as well let Taehyung know he was taking it seriously considering his parents were the only reason he could even afford to think about therapy. 

To his surprise, a wide grin suddenly replaced Taehyung’s prior frown. He rested a hand on Jimin’s shoulder, “that’s great, dude! I’m really proud of you, seriously. I’m sure it’ll really help.”

Jimin couldn’t meet his eyes.

He hoped Taehyung was right. 

Next Chapter...

The Reaper's Daughter (PJM)

Summary: The Reaper’s Letter, a chilling call for blood, has been delivered, and who better to answer that call than the Reaper’s Daughter herself?

Pairing: Park Jimin x Reader

Genre: Hitman au, mystery

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: Park Jimin. That’s it, that’s the warning. 

A/N: Take this random drabble (or possible prologue…?) while I struggle with writing TSC even though I’m only on the third chapter (●_● ).

The first time you met him was on a piece of paper. 

It wasn’t just any piece of paper, of course. If that had been the case, his name would have been quickly dispelled into the forgotten depths of your mind. Your world was nothing short of a theatre piece crafted by Shakespeare himself, and anything that strayed from his intricately constructed script swiftly faded into its indifferent backdrops. 

No, the paper you met him on was very much a detail of that script. Delicately handcrafted, with sloping black cursive characters and glittering golden borders. It had many names, too. The Reaper’s Letter. Death Note. The Waiting Crow’s Hailing. But, it was not what it was called that mattered. 

What mattered was the name printed boldly on its top left corner. Because whoever’s name was unfortunate enough to find itself nestled cosily on this paper, would be found dead by week’s end. 

It had always reminded you of a children’s game you could just barely remember from the shattered fragments of your childhood, though there was nothing childish about the work you did. You’re handed the Death Note, you navigate through the mountains of information it supplies, and then the hunt begins. Kind of like Tag, yet nothing like it at all. 

But that time the rules had been slightly different. Usually accompanying the name was a picture of your target, alongside a thick file of information covering every miniscule detail of the name’s life. Instead, the paper handed to you held only three words. 

Name: Park Jimin. 

Beside it was no picture, no age, no location. At first it had annoyed you, because that meant the burden of research now fell heavily on your shoulders. But then again, this was a novel challenge, one that you were not willing to collapse under. 

Your interest had piqued even further when you were halted before your exit to be given an ominous warning. 

“Be careful, I heard he’s sharp.”

The statement was not enough to catch you off guard, but it, like the entirety of this task, was new. You were one of the best. If the likes of you had to be cautioned, then who exactly was this man?

You didn’t find out, and maybe that had been your first mistake. His information had been hidden well, too well. Of course, that had sent a few alarms blaring in your head about messing with the wrong people. But you had been given a job, and you couldn’t not see it through. 

Thus, by week’s end, you had only managed to collect a measly location and picture. It wasn’t much, but you were out of both options and time. And really, a name and place was all you’ve ever needed anyway. 

Killing a person was really not as difficult as films made it out to be. 

Take Park Jimin for example. He was completely unaware of your presence on the rooftop of the building standing right next to the enormous banquet hall he was in now. Instead, he laughed with a woman adorning glittering gold jewellery from head to toe, with a velvety navy blue dress that could only be designer. She was not special amongst the sea of identically dressed women, each accompanied by men in posh suits. 

Park Jimin didn’t look too bad himself. He was donning a dark magenta suit that hugged him in all the right places, especially the extra piece of cloth that wrapped around his torso to show off his figure. His hair was dyed dirty blonde, but it only added to the intensity that radiated off of him. 

If only it could save him from the bullet that was about to make acquaintance with his head. 

The one that you were going to release, just from a little pressure on the trigger of the sniper that your finger brushed against now.

Poor Park Jimin. He won’t be getting laid tonight, at least, not in the way he wanted. 

Your finger pressed against the trigger, only to still when a head appeared in front of Jimin. It was another woman, this time in a sequined scarlet dress that was pulled taut against her skinny figure.

You readjusted the aim of your sniper, making sure it was once again pointed towards Jimin’s head, only to huff when another opulently dressed individual, this time a man dressed in a dull black suit, gets in the way of your aim. 

You wouldn’t have paid it much thought if it wasn’t for the unusual nature of everyone’s movements. The second your aim found its way back to Jimin’s head, another individual would pop up, effectively blocking your aim. It was so ridiculous that, at some point, even Jimin himself had disappeared behind the crowd of people now laughing and chattering with one another. 

It only took you a few moments to realise the eeriness of the situation, and then one more to jump to your feet. Something was wrong, you could practically feel it buzzing around you in the air. 

As if confirming your suspicion, you heard the safety of a gun being turned off behind you. That made you freeze. 

“So, they chose you?”

The voice behind it was soft but low, and although you’ve never heard it before, you can already guess who it belongs to. 

You kept your lips sealed, not entirely sure what his words meant. They were too ambiguous, too many meanings that they could branch into. 

Instead, you decided to risk turning around. 

You were wrong, you realised, about Jimin not looking too bad. Because although he was pointing a simple handgun at your forehead, he was probably the most beautiful man you had ever laid your eyes on. 

His magenta suit had darkened into a rich wine shade that seemed to glitter under the soft rays of the moonlight, while a few strands of dirty blonde hair rested delicately on his exposed forehead. This was in contrast with his sharp jawline, that casted a deep shadow on his neck. But his eyes… Though a simple brown, they held an intensity you couldn’t quite decipher. Like creatures swimming to the surface of the vast ocean for only brief moments, you managed to catch only glimpses. Of mischief. Of anguish. You could have sworn you had even caught a tail of compassion. 

But a compassionate man wouldn’t be pointing a gun at your head now would he?

In a single, swift movement, your fingers wrapped around the gun at your waist and brought it to his own head, a perfect reflection of him. You waited for the familiar fear to pull at his calm expression, but instead, you watched him smile. 

He was pissing you off. Not because of his clearly inciting behaviour, but because he had a chance to kill you and he didn’t. He didn’t seem stupid enough not to be aware of your intentions, and yet, he didn’t seem the slightest bit worried, or even vengeful. 

Why?

“It seems we’re at a stalemate,” he stated, eyes searching your expression. For what? You didn’t know. Only now were you wishing that you had collected more research on the man standing before you. Then you at least might’ve had an inkling of his intentions. 

“Both of us will be dead the second these guns go off,” he continued nonchalantly, as if he were talking about the weather.

Silence. 

It was a very underrated tactic that had quickly become one of your signature skills a long time ago. It was especially useful now, as you were in a bit of a predicament. You could have shot him and left easily if he was inexperienced. A simple disarm, duck and shoot would have been more than enough to secure a safe exit, as well as your paycheque. 

But his posture was perfect, his hands gripped the gun without even a quiver of instability, and there was an ease to his movements that lacked any kind of panic. 

He was like you, you realised. Gang members were wildcards that acted before they thought and most of their movements were rough around the edges. Police officers were more diplomatic, and Jimin would have stated that he was a cop the first chance he got if he were one. 

No, he wasn’t a gang member or police officer. He was more like you. 

You allowed yourself a single step backwards, the beginning of your journey to the roof’s edge. 

If he was as experienced as you were, he was going to be a slight problem. You had not anticipated this. You needed to do more research, find out who this man truly was because he did not seem normal. His flashy attire, calculating gaze, and eerie amusement in this whole situation had thrown you off, but you’ve never been one to be embarrassed. 

Life happened, you were a prime example of that. 

“Leaving so soon?” He asked, tilting his head to the side with an unwavering gaze. 

“You’re not doing a very good job at- well, your job. So, I’m assuming the party’s over,” you finally said, voice flat. 

“Ah, so she can speak,” he said, feigning astonishment, but it didn’t bother you much, “love, if I wanted you dead, you would be it already.”

“Careful. I’ve seen the overconfident crumble faster than the weak.”

You know you shouldn’t have responded if you wanted to maintain your air of silence, but you were also mature enough to admit that winning frivolous verbal spats like these were a guilty pleasure of yours. Before Jimin could continue, to fan the fire you guessed because he seemed like the kind of man that would, you beat him with a question.

“So, tell me why you’ve decided you don’t want me dead.”

He chuckled at that statement. 

“Who said I didn’t?”

He readjusted his aim so that instead of your head, the gun was pointed at your heart, “maybe you’re just nice to look at, and I’m just enjoying the view before you’re reduced to nothing but a pool of blood on this rooftop.”

This time it was your turn to chuckle, but you only laughed inwardly. If he was expecting you to be scared he was going to have to do a better job than that.

Despite repressing the laugh, you still felt a smile just barely twitch against your lips, “I would’ve expected trash talking to be beneath you Park Jimin.”

Jimin’s gaze remained steady, a glint of amusement in his eyes, “trash talking, huh? Well, I guess I’m just full of surprises.”

You cocked your head to the side, a silent question, but Jimin only copied the movement. At first you thought he was mocking you, but then he spoke. 

“So they finally decided to send you,” Jimin continued, “Reaper’s Daughter.”

You didn’t let yourself tense, or move in any way that would indicate that he had caught you off guard. That nickname was known by many, but the many couldn’t attribute it to a face. Not only did Jimin know you were The Reaper’s Daughter, but he had also revealed it to you that he knew. You still didn’t know what game you had walked into, but it was clear now that there was more to this task than you thought. There was more to Jimin than you thought. 

Slowly, you let your eyebrows pull together as you cast him a confused look. Jimin chuckled, seeming to find amusement in your lack of communication. 

“I’ve been keeping tabs on you for a while.”

The fact that you’ve had someone tailing you and you didn’t notice didn’t sit right with you. But you pushed the thought to the back of your mind, focusing instead on the fact that Jimin had been collecting information on you and that could only mean there was something he wanted. 

Before you could ask what it was, Jimin spoke up again. 

“When I first saw you on this rooftop, I wondered what you could be doing here. And then I watched you assemble your sniper,” he said, “I couldn’t understand why you’d agreed to make me one of your targets.”

You almost snorted at his naivety, because if he had been tailing you then he should know what you do for a living, but then paused at his next words. 

“I found it odd that this little mouse had agreed to eliminate the only one on her side,” he continued, “unless… she decided to switch sides.”

The atmosphere shifted from light jabs to a fierce hostility as the amusement suddenly drained from his face, leaving behind a sharp pair of eyes that betrayed nothing. You automatically tensed, knowing that the real standoff had just begun, even if you didn’t have a clue as to what Jimin was talking about. 

“I must say I’m disappointed. I wouldn’t have expected it from you of all people. I didn’t expect that you’d be here for this reason.”

“Speak plainly, Jimin. What are you talking about?” you said, your curiosity finally reaching a point strong enough to break your silence. Your tone was still flat, but now it was firm, tired of his cryptic words and your mind trying to grasp at straws to understand. 

Jimin studied you for a moment. Without the amusement in his gaze, you had to stop yourself from shifting uncomfortably. His eyes could be so… intense. 

You had a feeling that your words had surprised him, as the hostile environment seemed to dampen for a moment. Jimin looked like he was at a crossroad, unsure if he wanted to share what was truly on his mind or simply take his chances and kill you on the spot. You waited patiently, curious to have the hurricane of questions in your mind answered. 

But when the silence continued to stretch, you realised that Jimin had decided to adopt your preferred method of communication. It was clear now that he had opted to leave you in the dark instead, refusing to reveal any kind of information to you. You felt a pang of annoyance hit your chest as you realised the burden of research would, once again, fall on your shoulders. 

You took another step towards the edge of the roof, Jimin’s eyes still focused on you. It’s not like you were trying to hide it, because Jimin’s calculating gaze would not allow such a thing. The two of you knew there would be no deaths tonight. You were caught in a stalemate, one you would have left a while ago under normal circumstances, but nothing about Jimin was normal and maybe that was why you had stayed a lot longer than you should have. 

But even though he looked almost devilish under the moonlight in those sinfully sultry clothes, holding tempting answers to questions he would never answer, you knew you couldn’t stay any longer. This night was over. There was nothing left here for you. 

The roof’s edge brushed against your backside as you continued to aim your gun at Jimin’s chest, your gaze just as focused as his. You watched his expression soften for a moment before he spoke. 

“When you figure it out, you’ll know where to find me, Y/N L/N.”

You didn’t know how he knew your name. You didn’t know what he wanted you to figure out. You didn’t know where you would find him, or if you would even want to find him after you figured out whatever you needed to. But you didn’t question it. A gut feeling told you that once you started searching, you’d be able to figure things out easy enough. All you had to do was get out of here so that you could let your curiosity do its thing. 

So when you were finally balancing on the edge of the roof, taking Jimin’s gaze into your own, it wasn’t at all abnormal when you felt the drop of the fall in your stomach. 

What was abnormal was the butterflies that continued to flutter even after you had landed on the pavement of the street.

The butterflies that continued to flutter even after you had made it safely back to your home.

Chapter 3: Stalker [M]

Summary: “A manwhore and a junkie… it’s a match made in heaven.”

Pairing: Park Jimin x Reader

Genre: High School au, angst

Word Count: 7.4k

Warnings: 18+, substance use disorder/drug addiction, PTSD, child abuse, additional warnings might be added as story progresses.

A/N: Sorry for taking so long to update, my motivation has just been so bad because of uni. And now with exams coming up, I can't really promise anything, but after my exams are over I'll definitely be more active!

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“God, I want you to absolutely wreck me.”

The bedroom suddenly quieted, its dim lighting beginning to wrap around the walls and furniture of the room to form an uncomfortably suffocating atmosphere. Or maybe Jimin was just projecting his own deteriorating feelings onto the innocent space. He was well aware that his mind shouldn’t have latched onto the words of the innocent woman he currently had pinned to his bed, shouldn’t have started picturing her wishes in his head, yet he couldn’t stop it. He’s never been able to stop it. But that didn’t stop him from trying every time. 

The more he envisioned the actions, the more he could feel those familiar ghostly hands crawl up his spine. His mind grasped at something, anything else to focus on. 

In his desperation, his unsteady gaze dropped to the girl beneath him. She was the epitome of conventionally attractive, with long, light brown hair sprawled around his mattress and dainty facial features. Modelling agencies would probably die for this girl if she gave them a chance. 

But at the moment she was just a distraction. Or at least she had been, until she had opened her mouth. 

The logical part of him tried to remind himself that her words were just that: words. She was just a horny girl expressing her preferences. It made sense, considering what they were about to do. And if anything, Jimin appreciated it when women told him what they wanted. It made his life a lot easier. 

But those particular wishes churned uneasily in his stomach as he felt the hands continue to travel up his spine, finding a cosy spot on his neck. His heartbeat, which had been racing for an entirely different reason, now thumped painfully in his chest as it quickened in pace. 

This can’t be happening right now, he thought with a mixture of frustration and desperation. 

Jimin pushed the impending, but familiar, feeling aside, choosing instead to focus on Emily.

That had clearly been a mistake.

“Like, tie me down. Choke me. Use me like a freaking slut. I swear I haven’t been railed in weeks,” she continued while running her fingers through his hair, completely oblivious to Jimin’s deteriorating state.

The feelings he had shoved aside pounded against his poorly constructed dam, fueled by the implications of Emily’s words. He could feel the ghostly hands press harder against his neck, labouring his breathing in the process. It was a telltale sign of the panic that had become so familiar to him. He knew now that there was no escaping this episode, no matter how hard he tried to steady his breathing and calm his nerves. 

What he needed to do was get out of here. 

“Those are a lot of demands to cover in one morning,” he said with a forced chuckle, hoping his voice wasn’t as shaky as he felt, “give me a minute, I’ll be right back.”

Before Emily could protest, Jimin slipped off the bed and half stumbled into his bathroom, just barely managing to lock the door.

And just like that, the dam broke. 

Jimin collapsed onto the tiled floor, desperately trying to get some air into his lungs as memories started to flood his mind. They flashed before him like a montage, nightmare after nightmare stealing his ability to breath. At first, he was back in his childhood home, watching his father push his mother down a flight of stairs while screaming at her like a madman. Jimin could feel his heart racing in his chest as he wondered if she was dead. 

But before he could run to her, his memories moved onto the day his father found out his wife had left. Jimin hadn’t even registered the fact that he’d never see his mother again before his father was on him, shouting at him while his hands enclosed around his neck harder. 

Then he was in his old bedroom, watching the bat in his hands crash into his father’s head as he heard a feminine scream. There was blood everywhere, in the room, on his hands. He tried to wipe it off frantically as it burned his skin, but it didn’t matter. The more he wiped off, the more it spread up his arms. 

All he could do was sit helplessly on the floor of the bathroom, head between his knees, as he shook uncontrollably and gasped for air. But the air wouldn’t come. It was like the ghostly hands had finally succeeded in crushing his windpipe and he could no longer fill his lungs. 

Jimin lurched forward suddenly, feeling his heart hammer painfully in his chest. He swore this time was different. 

He swore this time he was going to die. 

His hand slapped desperately against the counter before it made contact with smooth metal. Relieved, his fingers wrapped around it, pulling it upwards until he could hear the faint sounds of water rushing out of the faucet. He tried to aim his attention to the sound of the water spewing out of the tap, listening intently to the way it sputtered out of the circular piece of metal. Then he focused on the water splashing against the smooth marble sink, running against it momentarily before it was swallowed up by the drain. He could hear the water crash against the pipes under his sink as they whisked the water away. 

It took him what felt like hours to really focus on the sound, letting it sooth him as much as it could. Jimin imagined his memories and panic seeping down the drain alongside it, the black plastic pipes guiding them far away from himself and his house. His breathing started getting a little easier with every passing moment as the memories of his father began to seep back into the locked portion of his mind. 

With small pockets of air now able to enter his lungs, Jimin managed to bring his hand down to the floor. He dragged two of his fingers against it in circles, focusing on the cold of the tile seeping into his fingertips and the rough line of grout between them. He inhaled as his finger met one half of the circle, stalling there for a moment, before exhaling as he completed the round. 

When Jimin finally felt himself calm, only the remnants of a few mild tremors left, he let his back drop against the glass side of his walk-in shower with a sigh. A lingering soreness was spreading throughout his chest as he felt his sweat-soaked shirt stick to his back. Although he was more than familiar with episodes like these, he couldn’t help but wonder why this one had been so particularly bad. 

Either way, the “attack” had left him exhausted, to the point that Jimin almost considered skipping school today. It was especially tempting, considering how much Taehyung had been bothering him recently about the therapy and whether it was working. Jimin had to remind him that he had only gone to one session, though he didn’t mention just how much he had hated it. 

But Jimin knew that there were a few concepts he needed to clarify in his first class, so ditching school was out of the question. 

Not to mention, Jimin’s second period had gotten a lot more interesting when the school had decided to transfer him to a different class because of a few scheduling issues. Particularly your presence had intrigued him, because he was so confused as to how he’d never noticed you before. Sure, Jimin had only been attending this school for the past two years, but he still found it hard to believe that the two of you had never crossed paths. He’d have definitely remembered if that were the case. You were, without a doubt, the most attractive woman he’d ever met, there was no way he would have overlooked a face like that.

Jimin stretched forward, just barely managing to close the faucet without having to get up from his position on the floor. You were fun to tease, and definitely something during sex. Jimin didn’t think he’d ever enjoyed sex as much as he had with you. 

His gaze dropped as he remembered the bottle that had been clutched in your hand that night at Taehyung’s house. It had been a shock to him that you were using, even though technically he was well aware he didn’t know you at all. He wondered if your addiction stopped at Adderall, or did you do more than just that? He hoped you didn’t, for your sake. 

Jimin had wanted to say something about it when he had dropped you off, encourage you to choose a different path for yourself. But he couldn’t seem to find the right words. He had used them all up when his father was still alive, none of which were successful of course. So instead he had walked away, guilt nibbling away at him with every step. 

“Jimin?”

Jimin’s head snapped towards the door as Emily’s muffled voice passed through it. He had practically forgotten that she was still there, too wrapped up in his panic and then his thoughts to remember that she’d probably been waiting for him to come back to his bed. He knew he couldn’t do it. She clearly wanted things that he just couldn’t give her. The prospect of having to explain some lousy excuse to her suddenly made him exhausted all over again. 

But thankfully Emily spoke up again before he could reply, “look, my first class starts soon and I can’t miss it. I guess we’ll have to do this another time.” 

He could hear the disappointment in her tone before he listened to the sound of her footsteps as she walked out of his bedroom, followed by the sound of his front door shutting quickly. When he was sure she was gone, he stood from his spot and made his way to his bedroom, picking up his phone to confirm the time. Emily wasn’t wrong, his first class was starting soon. He would have to get going as well. 

Jimin walked back to his bathroom, standing in front of the mirror above the sink. His gaze scanned the damp, rust-coloured hair sticking to his forehead, and then the beads of sweat travelling down his neck. He grimaced. First, he needed a shower.

-

-

-

Jiwoo was in a mood. 

You had begun to suspect as much at the end of your first class, when she had kicked your bag while stomping out of the classroom. Although Jiwoo was always pulling stunts like that, she’d usually accompany it with an irritating taunt or mocking expression. But it wasn’t until right before second period, when she had purposely bumped into the open pencil case on your desk to scatter it all over the floor, when you became certain.

Jiwoo was in a mood. 

You watched her drop into her seat near the front of the class with an angry huff, uncharacteristically not even bothering to spare you a fake “oops.” Normal Jiwoo was far from a saint, but god did annoyed Jiwoo unlock a different type of rage in you. Her irritation made you wonder how her parents’ divorce was going. Probably not great, if her mood today was anything to go on. 

With an annoyed sigh, you slipped off your chair and lowered yourself to the floor to focus on collecting your things, trying to calm your raging heartbeat and shaking hands in the process. You weren’t sure whether it was because of Jiwoo or the Ritalin. This was your third day on Ritalin even though you had vowed to never take the stuff again. You didn’t really have much of a choice. There was still no news on Yoongi, which meant you were still out of Adderall. And although Ritalin made you crazy with nerves, it still somehow managed to help you focus on your schoolwork. Not to mention you’d much rather be a jittery mess than the dead zombie that your Adderall crash had reduced you to.

Unfortunately, until you could get your hands on some Adderall, Ritalin was your only option. 

You shoved the last of your supplies into your pencil case, brows furrowing when you noticed that you were missing your eraser. But one scan of the floor showed no sign of the white rubber. 

You checked under your desk and then your chair, wondering where it could have disappeared to.

It wasn’t until a pair of black dress shoes and grey dress pants appeared in your line of sight when you realised where your eraser had gone. 

“Looking for something?” Jimin asked in a teasing tone, holding out your white eraser between the tips of his index and middle fingers. 

Your gaze reluctantly travelled up to his smug face, the feeling of annoyance a natural response to his presence at this point. 

“Stealing my car wasn’t enough? Now you want my eraser too?”

Jimin’s head tilted for a moment before he rested a hand on your desk and leaned forward so that his next words could only be heard by you. 

“Why would I want anything more when I’ve already got you on your knees for me, kitten?”

You rolled your eyes, ignoring the tempting view of his sharp jawline, before grabbing your pencil case and pushing yourself off of the ground. Leave it to Jimin to turn every instance into an opportunity to flirt. 

“Weren’t you the one that said I had to ask for sex the next time I wanted it? What happened to that?” You asked with a low voice before taking back your eraser. 

“I never said I couldn’t be tempting.”

Then, to your surprise, Jimin dropped into the empty desk beside yours instead of his usual seat behind you. It took you a second to register the sudden change, and then another to eye him weirdly. 

But before you could ask him what he was doing, Mr. Kim walked into the classroom just as the bell rang. The students rushed to their seats to bring out their textbooks, some of the girls swooning over the alleged new shirt he was wearing. You took your seat quickly, sending Jimin a glare in the process. 

Taehyung hurried into the room just after Mr. Kim, slipping unnoticeably past him before dropping into his usual seat. His eyebrows furrowed for a moment when he noticed Jimin wasn’t sitting next to him, and then they furrowed even further when he realised where he was actually sitting. 

“Come on man, what happened to bros before hoes?” He muttered under his breath. You almost laughed at his sulky expression.

Mr. Kim began writing the lesson on the whiteboard, “please turn to page 245.”

You turned to the page alongside the rest of the class as Jimin did the same, distantly noticing your leg bouncing up and down unconsciously. 

Mr. Kim turned back to the class, beginning the lesson by explaining the concepts on the page he had instructed everyone to turn to. He was one of the better teachers, so you were easily able to understand the seemingly complex concepts.  

That was until Jimin started annoying you, just like he had been doing in class for the past few days. It was always small things, like sneakily drawing random doodles in your notebook when you weren’t looking or stealing your pencil every so often. It took everything in you not to throw your eraser at his face. Instead, you dragged your notebook and supplies to the other side of your desk with a huff.

That just made him laugh, one he had to muffle with his hands so Mr. Kim didn’t call him out. 

The class went on like this, a mixture of evading Jimin’s antics while simultaneously trying to understand the lesson being taught by Mr. Kim. You honestly had to applaud the guy for being able to escape Mr. Kim’s gaze for so long. He was notoriously known for being an observant teacher, and because of that you were sure he knew a lot more student secrets than he let on. 

However, Jimin’s antics had to come to an abrupt end when Mr. Kim placed his whiteboard marker down and faced the class, seemingly finished with teaching the lesson. He called up two students, handing them both stacks of papers to hand out to the rest of the class. 

“Your next assignment will consist of a presentation closely resembling a seminar, where each group will be expected to accurately teach the class on an assigned topic,” he explained, characteristically professional and thoughtful with his words, “since the goal of this assignment will be to facilitate understanding, I will be expecting the incorporation of some creative elements in order to keep the presentation engaging in addition to being informative.”

One of the students that had been handing out the mini booklets finally reached you and Jimin, handing the two of you one each before moving onto Taehyung. 

“The booklets in front of you go over the details pertaining to this assignment. Therefore, I expect you all to read through them thoroughly to avoid losing marks over small mistakes.”

Mr. Kim suddenly smiled, “although, with this being your senior year I doubt you all require such a reminder anyway.”

You watched Jiwoo’s hand shoot into the air as you tried to keep Jimin’s hands off your booklet. Mr. Kim nodded towards her before she spoke, “will we get to choose our own groups?”

“No, I will be assigning the groups, as well as the topics,” he replied, earning him a number of whines and groans. But Mr. Kim merely chuckled, amused, but not willing to change his mind. 

He then turned to the first row of students, grouping them in pairs based on their seating. You groaned inwardly when you realised the pattern he was going by and who, in that case, would end up being your partner. 

“Jimin and Y/N,” Mr. Kim grouped, but then paused when he noticed Taehyung sitting without the deskmate, “and Taehyung.”

“Mr. Kim,” Jiwoo said once again, but this time you rolled your eyes knowing what she was going to bring up, “isn’t it unfair that one group has three students? That will lessen their workload compared to everyone else!”

You noticed Jiwoo send you a mocking smile for a moment, clearly trying to incite you.

Witch. 

“You may rest assured, Ms. Kim. I will ensure everything is as fair as possible,” he reassured with a small smile. But Jiwoo just slid down in her seat, annoyed that her plan to make your life harder had pretty much failed. 

You wished she turned around so you could send her your fakest smile. On one hand was Jiwoo, the most annoying witch in existence, and then on another hand was Jimin, the most annoying jerk in existence. 

What has your life come to?

When the bell finally rang and Mr. Kim dismissed the class, you crumpled one of your rough pieces of paper and threw it at Jimin’s face with a glare. 

It wasn’t much, but boy did it make you feel better. 

“What was that for?” He asked, failing miserably at stifling a laugh. 

“You know what.”

Ignoring Jimin’s amused glance, you packed your bag as your classmates began to chat with each other and started making their way to the cafeteria. You wouldn’t be heading there, though, since you usually spent your breaks in the library studying. It just felt better to get all your work out of the way so you could go home and just sleep for hours. 

You walked out of the classroom, thankful that you could finally get away from the annoying thing known as Park Jimin, and then began walking to the library. The hallways were full of students relaxing and playing around with each other, making you think of Namjoon. He was away on some trip for a maths competition. Or maybe it was for a science competition? Either way, he was off doing his nerd stuff, so you couldn’t invite him to hang out after you finished studying. 

You made it to the library’s front desk, sending a smile to the main librarian who returned it sweetly. 

“Hello, have the study room schedules been made yet?” You asked. 

She answered your question with a nod and, after giving her your name, she began searching the computer for your schedule.  

Since the demand for the very limited number of study rooms in the library was so high, the school had decided to come up with a schedule system for the students that wished to use them, because a first come, first serve approach would be much too “barbaric” for a private school of course. Each student was given a schedule for which study room they were assigned to and when they could use it. 

“Hi, can I get my study schedule please?” A voice asked, “my name is Park Jimin.”

Your gaze snapped to your side, finding Jimin standing right next to you. 

Seriously?

“So you’ve resorted to stalking me now?” You asked, causing Jimin to turn to you with a surprised expression. 

When his gaze fell on you, he grinned. 

“How come I’m the stalker? You could very well be the one stalking me,” he said. 

Before you could reply, the librarian walked back to her desk and handed you and Jimin your printed schedules. The two of you thanked her before walking over to the library’s elevator while looking them over. 

Thankfully, you were scheduled for a study room on Wednesdays during break, so you didn’t have to find somewhere else to study at the moment. 

You eyed Jimin when he followed you into the elevator, watching as he pressed the button to the floor you were also going to. The two of you seemed to be finding yourselves in each other’s presence a lot lately. It made you groan inwardly, knowing that the semester had only just begun.

It was like having a second Jiwoo since you and her were usually thrown together a lot due to your familial ties, but at least Jimin didn’t kick your bag or slap your pencil case to the ground. That earned him at least a few more points in your book.

The book’s name? “The Most Annoying People in Kim Y/N’s Life,” of course.

The elevator door dinged as it revealed the hallway of the second floor. Jimin walked out of it first, unfortunately taking a right into the hallway, which was the same way you were going. 

You followed him reluctantly.

“Who’s following who now, kitten?” He said with a smirk, an eyebrow raised at you. 

You simply huffed, “shut up.”

You didn’t bother to come up with a better comeback. All you had to do was make it to your study room, then you could finally get rid of him. This day had been filled with way too much Jimin, and you were actually looking forward to doing homework in a nice and quiet room over having to deal with his annoying butt. 

Jimin continued through the hallway until he stopped in front of the door to the farthest study room from the elevator. The action made your eyes widen.

“No,” you denied immediately, stomping over to him before grabbing his schedule from his hand, “no way. There’s no way.”

Your mouth fell open as you took in his schedule, almost exactly identical to your own. The only day in which your and Jimin’s schedules didn’t align was Monday. Only one out of the five days of school in a week would you be free of him. No way. There was no way this was possible. Of all the insane things…

While you were distracted, a confused Jimin took your own schedule from your hands, looking over it curiously. It only took him a second to figure out what your issue was, but when he did, he couldn’t help himself. 

Jimin burst into a fit of laughter. 

“Stop laughing, this isn’t funny,” you whined, smacking the paper against his head. That only made him laugh harder as he fell to the floor with a hand clutching his stomach. 

“Guess we’re stuck with each other now,” Jimin managed through his laughter. 

You rolled your eyes, choosing instead to walk past him into the room. Fine, if you were going to be stuck with him, then you were just going to have to ignore his presence completely. It was the only ray of hope in your seemingly continuous misery. 

You dropped into a seat at the large table, spreading your work out as you opened your laptop and began typing furiously against the innocent keys. 

After a few minutes Jimin walked into the room, closing it behind him before he thankfully dropped into a chair away from yours and brought out his own work. You risked a glance upwards, catching a smirk on his lips that made your blood boil. 

Your eyes stayed glued to your screen after that. 

You expected him to annoy you the same way he had during your second period class by stealing your pencils or throwing a paper plane at you, but instead he remained focused on his work for a full half an hour straight. That came as a surprise to you because you honestly hadn’t been expecting him to be very studious. Maybe it was because he had annoyed you during class. Or maybe it was because you had unintentionally believed in the stereotype against guys that slept around. Either way, it was surprising when you managed to get through half an hour worth of work without any disturbances. 

After half an hour, though, Jimin sighed, leaning back in his chair as he stretched his arms behind him. He’d taken off his blazer, so you could see the defined lines of his muscles stretch under his dress shirt. Your straying gaze quickly shot back to your screen, but not before Jimin had noticed your curious eyes. He smirked. 

You were able to work for a few more minutes before Jimin suddenly leaned forward, eyeing you curiously. 

“So,” he said, causing you to turn your head towards him questionably, “how did your dad end up reacting?”

 You furrowed your eyebrows, “what?”

“After the party, when you came home after midnight. I’m surprised he wasn’t already standing on the porch with a shotgun ready.”

You snorted, unable to imagine your dad doing that, “my dad’s not like that.”

“Oh, so he was cool with it and everything?” He asked. 

You shifted in your seat, “no… I mean, I don’t know. He wasn’t home that night.”

Jimin nodded, “business trip?”

“Kind of. He’s a truck driver,” you explained, a little weirded out by the suddenly normal conversation but still appreciating the unexpected break from your work, “he’s usually only home on weekends. Otherwise he’s out driving across the country.”

Jimin’s eyes widened, “so he leaves you alone during the entire week? And sometimes he doesn’t even come back on the weekends?”

You shrugged, finding it odd how surprised Jimin looked, “yeah? I’m not a kid, it’s not that big of a deal.”

Jimin’s gaze dropped to the table in front of him, seemingly deep in thought. But you noticed a slight scowl in his features. 

Weird. 

You shifted to face Jimin, a question coming to mind, “but why are you only asking about my dad?”

Jimin didn’t look up from the table, “I heard what that girl said about your mom last Friday… I just kind of assumed…”

The room quieted into what felt like an awkward silence. You had the feeling that something you said had cut the surprisingly normal conversation short, but there was nothing you said that could have offended him so you didn’t really understand why that was. 

You turned back to your work, brushing against the touchpad to light up your laptop’s screen once again. After sending one final curious glance at Jimin, you went back to your work. 

But Jimin was clearly lost in thought. 

-

-

-

The first thing Jimin noticed when he walked into the room was Lauren, who was sitting on one of the beige sofas situated next to the glass coffee table. She had been looking down at the binder she had shown him in their last session, reading over something intently before the sound of the door opening had her looking upwards and then smiling. 

“Hello Jimin,” she greeted, to which he gave her a curt nod. 

Thankfully, Lauren had already situated herself on the sofa facing away from the door, allowing Jimin to sit on the one that gave him a view of both the entrance and the window at the same time. Even in his sour mood, he was able to appreciate the gesture. 

He knew Lauren was studying him, taking in his sudden attitude, but to his surprise she didn’t call him out on it. Instead, she closed the binder and placed it beside her on the sofa, bringing a much thinner notebook onto her lap in its place.

“Did you complete the Impact Statement worksheet I assigned in the last session?” She asked, to which Jimin nodded. 

He had avoided starting it until the last minute, something he knew Lauren wouldn’t approve of considering she had given him that big speech about avoidance and how it wasn’t helping him. He just couldn’t help it, he’d spent years trying to rid his mind of that night’s memories. Anything that reminded him of it was discarded, any person that reminded him of it was avoided. Even the house had been sold the second it was passed down to him. So doing this Impact Statement? Something that would not only remind him about it, but make him think about it to a deeper extent… it had been hard. 

“Could you read your Impact Statement out loud?”

Jimin’s eyebrows pulled together at the random request, confused as to why that was necessary. He wasn’t in kindergarten anymore, where they would make his class take turns reading various children’s books to each other. 

He shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable with the request. But he couldn’t make a fuss about it. He needed to give this therapy thing a genuine try, especially considering the enormous attack he had this morning. 

Jimin brought out the statement from his school bag, unfolding it slowly. He cleared his throat before finally following along the hastily written words. 

“This traumatic experience happened because I was stupid and did something horrible. I knew that my father wasn’t himself, I knew that he was under the influence, and yet I still ended up murdering him, my own father, like some kind of psychopath. Saying that that makes me a horrible person feels like an understatement, because being a killer is one thing, but being able to kill your family? That must make me even worse than a murderer. I feel like I don’t deserve anything good because of it. If anything, the world should bring me my karma and just end it already. I think that sometimes… that because of what I did, someone is just silently watching me and waiting for the right moment to get back at me. I feel like I’m never safe, like I constantly have to be on guard whenever I’m out. I feel like people should think the same about me too, they shouldn’t trust me either. My past is evidence enough that I might just lose it and hurt someone. I would hate to do that to Taehyung especially, the only person that’s genuinely been there for me. But anyways, the gist of it is that I’m not a good person. I make bad decisions. I feel unsafe all the time, especially when I’m around other men. Sometimes when I’m out I can imagine every grown man that looks my way hates me the same way my dad did, and that they’d go after me the first chance they got. I don’t want to get close to people because I feel like if I build any kind of genuine relationship, I’ll end up hurting them. That’s why I don’t think Taehyung should have a friend like me, that he deserves better. I don’t know how to make things better. I don’t think I’ll ever be normal again.”

The room fell quiet as Jimin set the paper down on the coffee table, wanting it away from him immediately. He was relieved that he was finally done with this assignment, though he hadn’t noticed how much he had ended up writing despite the limited amount of time he had to complete the worksheet. 

“What did it feel like to write and then read the Impact Statement aloud?” Lauren asked, an expression of complete neutrality. He couldn’t help but feel grateful that she wasn’t disgusted by him. 

Or at least she wasn’t showing it. 

“It was hard,” Jimin admitted, gaze travelling everywhere but her, “honestly I didn’t start the worksheet until just an hour before I came here.”

Lauren surprisingly nodded, “the good thing is that you completed it nonetheless. It is difficult work, Jimin, and you were able to get through it. That takes a lot of strength.”

“But I should remind you that avoidance only helps in maintaining PTSD symptoms, right?”

Jimin nodded. 

“How do you feel after reading the Impact Statement?” She asked. 

“A little less anxious,” Jimin replied, though it was more the fact that he was relieved it was over than anything else. Whether his improved feelings were because the Impact Statement had actually helped or because of the relief he felt from it being over, there was no doubt that he felt better now compared to the anxiety he had been feeling when walking into this room. 

“If doing the assignment in this way made you a little less anxious, then I wonder what it would have been like to have completed the assignment earlier in the week?” Lauren wondered out loud, but she didn’t dwell on it for long. She was clearly keen on changing the topic. 

“Now, earlier it seemed that you might have been upset about something. Could you explain to me why that was?”

“It’s nothing,” Jimin said, shaking his head as he leaned back against the sofa. But he could feel his blood begin to boil once again, his thoughts from earlier apparently the flame. His anger simmered to the surface and, before he knew it, he was blurting everything out. 

“It’s just… I was talking to this classmate of mine earlier today, just a normal conversation, and she told me something about her dad that kind of pissed me off.”

Lauren tilted her head, “can you tell me what she told you that made you so angry?”

Your words from earlier filled his mind once again, bringing the anger along with them. He had been furious throughout the rest of the school day, and all throughout the ride here, with your words and their implications repeating over and over in his head.

Jimin suddenly stood up and walked over to the window, his anger making him want to move around. 

“The thing is, she’s actually this girl I hooked up with at a party last Friday,” he started to explain, not realising that he had begun pacing around, “I’d ended up taking her home that night because she didn’t really seem like she could get there on her own, so I just casually asked her about how her dad had reacted to her getting home so late. She started telling me about how her dad hadn’t been home that night because he’s a truck driver. In fact, she said that he usually wasn’t home at all throughout the week, and sometimes he didn’t even come back on the weekends that he’s supposed to.”

Jimin spun around towards Lauren, who had shifted so that she was still facing him, “can you believe that? What kind of father would leave their kid alone for weeks at a time? And does he even know what his own daughter has been doing in his absence? She uses, you know. I bet he has no clue.”

“But of course he doesn’t,” Jimin scoffed, “just one of the millions of examples of a grown man being absolutely useless and incompetent as a father.”

He turned to look outside once again, trying to focus on anything that could calm down his racing heart. 

“Do you feel that way about your own father?” He heard Lauren ask from behind him. 

“Obviously. He beat my mom, and then he beat me. That didn’t exactly make him father slash husband of the year. Nothing could justify his actions,” Jimin reasoned. 

“Do you feel that your actions that night also can’t be justified?”

He paused, the question catching him off guard. Slowly, Jimin faced Lauren once again, “well yes, I’m not different from him. If anything I’m worse. He beat people. I murdered him.”

Lauren’s gaze bored into him in an almost unnerving way before she spoke, “‘murder.’ That’s a strong word.”

“It’s appropriate in this context.” 

“From what you’ve told me, it seems like you killed your father after he had begun to hurt your girlfriend-”

“Ex,” Jimin said, his gaze not meeting hers, “ex girlfriend.”

“Ex girlfriend,” Lauren corrected, “your actions occurred in a very specific place and time, and under certain circumstances.”

“Yeah, but he still died. And I’m the one that killed him.”

“Yes, he died, and it seems, at least in part, because of your actions. Does that make you a murderer?”

“Yes,” Jimin answered straight away, not comprehending what was so hard to understand, “I took a bat to his head, and then he died. That’s murder. And that’s worse than anything he had ever done to me.”

“Really? You think it’s worse?” Lauren asked, her voice suddenly quieter. For the first time since these sessions started, Jimin thought he might have caught a little sadness in her expression. But the moment he caught it the expression disappeared, tucked back under that blanket of neutrality that he had become so used to. Distantly, he wondered if he had imagined it or not. 

“On one hand, people were hurt. On the other hand, someone was killed. Obviously both situations aren’t good since people were hurt either way. But I killed him, he didn’t kill anyone.”

“It is true that the outcomes are different,” Lauren agreed, “but it’s the context that I wonder about.”

Jimin’s brows furrowed, “what do you mean?”

“Do you think what the intention was in those situations matters, regardless of the outcome?”

“No,” Jimin replied firmly, pulling back on the frustration in his tone,“in one case someone was killed. In another, no one was killed.”

Lauren paused for a moment, seemingly studying him with her characteristically neutral expression. When nothing was said for a few seconds, she clasped her fingers together before resting them over her lap professionally, “while it is true that your father died, and that your actions played a role in it, I think we might slightly disagree on the definition of the term ‘murder.’ It is apparent that his death has been a very difficult thing for you to accept, and that you are trying to make sense of that. From what you’ve told me, the sense that you appear to have made of his death is that you are a ‘murderer.’ I believe this is a good example of one of the stuck points that seem to have prevented you from recovering from this traumatic event. We’ll definitely be spending more time together on understanding your part in his death.”

Lauren then began to explain something about how important it was to be able to identify and label his emotions and thoughts, but Jimin’s thoughts were too stuck on her earlier words to pay any attention. He wondered about how intentions might or might not matter in the context of whether a death is considered a murder or not. When a person participates in an action that ends up with another person dead, he was pretty sure that classified the situation as a murder. He couldn’t really understand where the nuances existed in a situation like this. 

But then again, Lauren’s suggestion hadn’t been too crazy of a thought either. If a person didn’t intend to kill the other, then would it still be considered a murder?

Had he intended to kill his father that night? Jimin wanted to say no and deny such a thing, because he really hadn’t wanted to do that. But he had taken a wooden baseball bat straight to his father’s skull, what other outcome had Jimin been expecting? Maybe intention did matter in general, but in Jimin’s case he concluded it made no difference. 

“How do you feel about the death of your father?” Lauren asked randomly, catching Jimin’s straying attention. He had no clue what the context behind the question was since his thoughts had been elsewhere while she had been explaining it, which had caught him off guard.

“Um,” Jimin paused, having to think about it for a moment, “I know he did horrible things to me, like I’m aware his actions were wrong, but… a part of me felt a little saddened by his death. Maybe not because of losing him as a person, but losing him meant that I had lost the last of my family. It does make me feel sad when I think about it.”

Lauren nodded encouragingly, “and that is a completely natural reaction to have when you feel that you’ve lost something. It’s good to feel that sadness and let it run its course.”

Jimin let a breathy chuckle escape his lips, though there was no humour behind it, “feeling sad isn’t exactly something I enjoy- actually I prefer to avoid feeling anything at all. It’s just easier that way.”

Lauren crossed her leg over the other, continuing to focus on Jimin as she brought her clasped hand over her lap once again, “have you ever allowed yourself to feel sad?”

He shook his head, explaining that he’s always preferred avoiding anything and everything that had to do with intense feelings like that. Even the frustration he had shown earlier was a generally rare occurrence. 

“Then if you’ve never allowed yourself to feel your emotions, how do you know that it would be easier not to feel them?”

Jimin was silent, processing the logic behind her words once again. He was starting to realise that therapy was a lot more logical than what he had initially thought.

“From what you’ve told me, avoiding your feelings hasn’t helped you very much so far. Maybe allowing yourself to feel the natural feelings associated with the traumatic event may help you recover from what happened?”

“Maybe…” He relented, knowing that her reasoning made sense to him. 

But Jimin still couldn’t help but feel anxious at the thought of feeling his emotions. He didn’t even know if he’d ever truly felt them before. With a father that had been beating him for as long as he could remember, it really had just become easier to numb himself to the pain. He was scared of revisiting that pain, he realised. The pain that he’d been trying to run away from his whole life.

Lauren opened her binder to bring out a few sheets that were similar to the Impact Statement worksheet she had given him in their last session, except they clearly had a different purpose. She called them “A-B-C” Sheets, which again reminded Jimin of kindergarten, and explained how to go about completing them properly. She also explained how they were meant to help him begin to identify the things he was telling himself and his subsequent emotions before they had exchanged pleasantries and Jimin had walked out of the room.

Unlike the last session, where he had rushed through the door at light speed, Jimin took his time walking through the hallways and out of the building. This time his mind was filled with questions of murder and intention. He thought about feeling his feelings, and how long it had been since he had lost the ability to do so. He thought about you and your dad. He thought about everything.  

There was just so much to think about. 

So much to think about indeed.  

The Sex Contract | PJM

Summary: “A manwhore and a junkie… it’s a match made in heaven.”

Pairing: Park Jimin x Reader

Genre: High School au, angst

Warnings: 18+, substance use disorder/drug addiction (explict), PTSD, child abuse, be sure to check the warnings for each chapter as additional warnings may be added as story progresses.

Chapter Index:

01 | 02 | 03 | ongoing...

Fool's Gold || Part I

Summary: Sweet Y/N, with her fluffy pastel dresses, soft makeup, and ditzy mannerisms. She’s seen as a fool in a world where there is no place for such things, but little do they know, the only fools are them.

Pairing: mafia leader!Jungkook x mafia leader's daughter!reader

Genre: mafia au, arranged marriage au

Word Count: 10k

Warnings: most warnings associated with mafia fics (e.g. violence, blood, etc), additional warnings might be added as the story progresses

<< masterlist || next part >>

“I heard that she’s a complete airhead.”

Jungkook’s expensive shoes smacked against the pristine white and gold marble floors as he continued to walk through the lavish hallway, hands disappearing behind his pockets while his steps were slow and confident. Most would think he was choosing to ignore the comment, but his closest friend knew better than to rush a man as calculating as Jungkook. 

Instead, Taehyung strolled alongside him, taking in the glittering chandeliers looming over their heads and the intricate designs carved into the white walls that were much too traditional for his taste. Jungkook and Taehyung were nowhere near out of place in the sea of extravagance with their custom suits and shiny black dress shoes. Taehyung, the more simple of the two, had his brown hair parted and pushed back to reveal a blemish free forehead while his grey and black suit complimented the grey specks in his brown irises. 

On the other hand, Jungkook’s black on black outfit adorned two expensive cufflinks and a gold brooch attached to his lapel. Taehyung’s gaze dropped to his black hair, which he noticed had grown in the past month. 

When Taehyung realised that Jungkook wasn’t going to speak, he decided to fill the silence. 

“Like apparently she’s huge on wearing pink and frilly stuff -which I guess is just a girl thing- but still, this is a mafia not a tea party.”

He paused, waiting for his comrade to offer his thoughts, but was met with silence once again. 

“I’ve also heard she’s dumber than a pile of rocks. Barely passed high school and then dropped out of university not even a month in. Her major wasn’t even that hard. Commerce, was it?”

Taehyung’s eyebrows furrowed as Jungkook continued to lengthen the silence. 

“And as you already must know, she was also married about a year ago but then was widowed after her husband was killed by a rival gang on the same day. Even though their marriage didn’t even last a full 24 hours, she had been so traumatised by the whole thing that apparently she didn’t even speak for an entire month after the ordeal. Can you imagine how much of a princess she must be for a simple death to shake her that much? She must be a real- come on man, how long are you going to make me go on?”

Jungkook turned his head to offer him a sly grin, “I was wondering when you would reach your limit.”

Taehyung gave him a halfhearted punch to the arm, “you’re such a jerk. Answer my question man. I’m dying to know what she’s actually like.”

He followed Jungkook as he turned into another hallway, curious as to what he thought of her, but his answer had him staring at Jungkook incredulously. 

“I don’t know.”

Taehyung faltered in his step, gaping at the back of the man who continued through the hallway nonchalantly. When the weight of his answer finally processed completely in Taehyung’s mind, he ran forward so that he could walk alongside his friend once again. 

“I think you misunderstood my question,” Taehyung tried again slowly, “I want to know about Lee Y/N, you know, your soon to be wife? The one you’re about to marry right now?”

“What is there to know?” Jungkook commented, mind occupied with a topic of much more importance, “a marriage with her will allow for the unification of two powerful mafia families and will also allow for an heir to be born. Is that not the whole point of marriages for individuals like us?”

“Well yeah, but there’s no harm in getting to know her at least a little bit. Did you even hear about the ‘dumb as rocks’ part when I was rambling?”

“That will only make her easier to control,” he deadpanned.

“Fine, whatever. Is she at least pretty?”

Taehyung’s eyes widened even more when Jungkook didn’t respond, “please tell me you’ve met her at least once. Oh my god, have you even looked at a picture of her?” 

Jungkook's silence was all Taehyung needed to know that the answer was, in fact, no,” I knew I shouldn’t have gone out of the country! My parents kept telling me everything would be fine and they’d take care of the whole thing but you haven’t even met her once? I should’ve made my return flight earlier, then I could’ve-”

Taehyung’s voice faltered as he noticed Jungkook’s distant expression, causing his brows to furrow. He wasn’t listening to a word he was saying, which wasn’t something entirely out of the ordinary, but it usually wasn’t this bad. He sighed as he shifted his gaze to the expensive hall before him. 

“Is this about the Parks?” He asked, noticing his friend’s focus return.

“It’s the Parks and the Mins,” Jungkook admitted, “ever since their alliance, they’ve been getting bold. They made a move on our West docks last week and would have been successful in seizing them if it weren’t for the blackmail I managed to procure at the last minute. But that won’t hold them off for long.”

Taehyung’s head tilted to the side, “you’ve always enjoyed a challenge. Why’s this bothering you so much?”

Jungkook turned into another hallway to finally come face to face with a large pair of grandiose double doors that towered over them. The two men came to a stop, aware that their conversation was now on a timer. 

“I just… have an uneasy feeling,” he said, unable to reveal anymore to Taehyung. He couldn’t bring himself to tell his best friend what he had really witnessed when he visited the docks yesterday.

Taehyung, clueless to Jungkook’s inner turmoil, slapped him on the back, lightening the mood with a grin, “come on man, this is your wedding. You’ll figure everything out later, for now just relax. You deserve it.”

Before he could protest, Taehyung shoved the double doors open to reveal an enormous and crowded wedding hall. The white and gold marble floor stretched across the entire room, while multiple diamonds came together to form a giant chandelier that hung over the hundreds of tables that had been decorated with shiny silverware and pristine white roses. The people were just as decorated as the furniture, with their elegant gowns and glamorous jewellery. 

At the sound of the doors opening, the once chattering crowd silenced, opting to sneak glances at Jungkook and his friend instead. Hushed whispers echoed around the hall as Jungkook straightened his back and held his head high before making his way to the centre of the room. Behind him, Taehyung took his place, his outgoing and extroverted personality tucked away to look just as regal and intimidating as the groom. The crowd began gathering on either side of the aisle, clearly excited for the bride who had been scheduled to appear any second now. 

Most men’s hearts would be racing during a time like this, Jungkook thought distantly, eyes focused on the aisle as well. Marriage to others was supposed to symbolise unwavering love and devotion. But not for him. For him marriage was simply a contract, a means to an end that he hoped would lessen the burden of a number of challenges. In a world like this, there was no such thing as love. 

Only power. 

The sound of the double doors opening pulled him from his thoughts, with two professionally dressed workers fixing them on either side so that they remained open this time. Jungkook watched a pair of women in what seemed like light pink bridesmaid dresses trail behind two girls who couldn’t have been more than five throwing white and light pink flower petals in the air. Behind the entourage was a figure drenched in white. 

You walked slowly into the room, your glimmering white dress trailing behind you as a thick white veil draped over your face and the front of your dress. Jungkook could only make out your hands clutching a small bouquet of white roses while your arm looped around your father’s, who was slowly guiding you down the aisle. Despite the aid, he couldn’t help but notice an uneasiness to your steps and a slight shake in your hands. 

The crowd’s gaze stayed fixed on your figure, drinking in the Jeon Jungkook’s soon to be wife. There were some gasps of astonishment at the beauty of your dress and figure, while there were some gasps of jealousy towards the woman who was taking Jungkook off the market. You didn’t seem to pay them any attention as your head stayed fixed in front of you, focusing on not falling as you continued through the aisle. 

To Jungkook, it felt like years had passed before you finally reached the small steps leading to the stage he was standing on, your bridesmaids taking their places on the opposite side of where Taehyung was standing. Your father unlooped his arm from yours and stepped back to sit on one of the seats that had been reserved for him, leaving you to hesitantly step onto the stage yourself. Your heel wobbled as you brought your foot forward and Jungkook knew exactly what would happen before it did. 

He watched your heel slip sideways, causing you to careen to your right under the heaviness of your dress. But before you could crash into the large pots of white roses, Jungkook shot forward so that his hand could grab your waist, hoisting you up to prevent you from falling. The crowd swooned at the gesture, murmuring about its romantic nature, though all Jungkook could wonder was how you’ve been surviving in a mafia family for so long. Taehyung had only said you were dumb, not a complete klutz too. 

He could feel the warmth of your delicate hand on his shoulder as he guided you up the steps, only letting go of you once the two of you were facing the patiently waiting priest. Once he had motioned for everyone to sit, he began his sermon in an obnoxiously boring voice. Jungkook had no particular interest in paying attention to a speech he had listened to multiple times growing up. Instead, he took the chance to survey you briefly. With your veil still hiding your face, he could only take in your perfect figure and pristine skin. 

Eventually, the priest asked you to remove your veil, to which you complied slowly. Taehyung came forward, offering to take the bouquet in your hands while your bridesmaids helped you hesitantly lift the soft white cloth over your head. 

A wave of hushed whispers spread throughout the crowd at the sight of your face, one that caught Jungkook off guard. Your eyes had been lined with a light liner, while your lips and cheeks had been made to look dainty. Your hair fell from the top of your head to your shoulders, styled in a way that framed your features and neck. Jungkook noticed a small silver necklace in the shape of a heart resting against your exposed collarbone. 

Your makeup made you look so innocent and… young. Jungkook almost wanted to pull Taehyung’s parents aside and confirm that you really were twenty three and not some nineteen year old. It was a bit of a turn off, he realised, slightly bothered by the fact. As a twenty six year old, he obviously wasn’t into teenagers, so he didn’t know what having a wife that looked like one was going to do for him. 

Then again, he wasn’t marrying you for some kind of gratification. He was marrying you because he needed to form a strong alliance between your father’s gang and his so that he could be, or at the very least appear, stronger than the Mins and Parks. You were nothing more than a path to more power and, aside from upholding his responsibilities as a husband, he would treat you as such.

As the priest continued to drone on, Jungkook continued to analyse your form. He watched your eyes stay focused on the priest before they strayed, hesitantly landing on Jungkook for a split second. When you noticed his gaze already on you, a small squeak sounded from your lips before you quickly shifted your focus forward. With the bouquet of flowers now hanging from Taehyung’s hand, your own fingers were clasped awkwardly in front of you. 

You were apparently everything Taehyung had painted you as earlier, Jungkook thought. Your makeup and mannerisms had an air of exaggerated innocence, while your body language was shy and sheepish. He had no problem imagining you as a weak girl that was so traumatised by the death of your first husband that you couldn’t utter a single word the following month. 

The priest turned to the seated crowd, beckoning anyone that had an issue with the marriage to step forward and speak their mind. Just as Jungkook expected, no one dared make a stand, preferring to cherish the connection between their head and neck instead. Following the silence, you and Jungkook were made to stand facing each other.

Your gaze was fixed on his collar, seemingly too shy to meet Jungkook’s eyes. It only confirmed his suspicions regarding your confidence, or lack thereof. 

Yet, despite your evidently timid nature and lack of intelligence, Jungkook couldn’t help but experience an uncanny feeling lingering at the back of his mind. Perhaps it was his untrusting nature, or maybe he had just been forced to over analyse you during the long and boring sermon. But he could have sworn that there was something about you. Just… something about the way you had trouble meeting his gaze yet seemed to have no problem in scanning Taehyung up and down. For a fraction of a moment, the look in your eyes was almost calculated, as if you had been assessing him. But just as fast as Jungkook thought he saw it, the look disappeared, replaced by a timid and shy gaze once again. It left him questioning whether he had even seen it in the first place, or whether he was letting paranoia see things that weren’t there. 

Finally, the priest turned to the two of you and made you both say your vows outloud. They were the standard vows, Jungkook and you putting no effort in creating a confession that you both knew was ingenuine. Instead, the two of you repeated after him, answering “I do” when the time was right. Jungkook was glad that, despite your seemingly ditzy nature, you hadn’t requested any giant romantic gestures. According to your father, you had even had no problem with Jungkook requesting that there be no kiss at the altar. It made his life a lot easier and truthfully made this entire situation a lot less awkward.

To Jungkook’s relief, the priest finally addressed the crowd once more, ending the sermon on a final note filled with hope and prosperity. He spoke about how the marriage would strengthen the two mafias, mitigating worries relating to attacks from enemies that may wish to harm them. Jungkook had already expected this part of the speech, as he had been the one to tell the priest to say those exact words. 

At the end of the sermon, Jungkook and you were made to walk down the aisle back to where he knew his expensive car was waiting. He turned to you, looping his arm around yours so that you wouldn’t fall again, and guided you down the steps slowly. He noticed that your every step was still wobbly and he could feel your hand shaking as you placed it on his bicep to steady yourself further. But this time, with the veil now draped behind you, he could see the distress in your face as well. Your eyes were wide as you took in the crowd surrounding you, looking as naive as Taehyung had made you out to be. 

Jungkook tried to remind himself of Taehyung’s words. About how you had barely been able to pass high school and then completely dropped out of university a month in. About how your style consisted of pink and frilly clothes that didn’t have much place in the mafia. About how, at this moment, you seemed almost scared of the crowd and attention. 

A girl like that was shy and naive and ditzy. Aside from being slightly irritating, that meant you couldn’t be much of a threat to him or anyone else. If anything your incompetence would be a threat to your own self. Jungkook had nothing to worry about when it came to you. 

So he tried not to be unsettled. 

He tried not to be unsettled by the fact that, despite your apparently innocent and weak nature, your fingers were gripping into his bicep so hard he would no doubt wake up with a bruise tomorrow morning. 

He tried not to be unsettled by the way your shy gaze, which stayed fixed on the floor, would sometimes stray upwards to almost study the crowd around you before quickly darting back to the ground. 

He tried not to be unsettled when you looked up at him to give him a bashful smile, one that the logical part of him agreed looked sweet and innocent enough.

Yet, why did another part of him wonder whether there had been something else lurking behind those seemingly innocent eyes?

-

-

-

The only thing that Jungkook had learned about you from the car ride was that your voice was as light and soft as your appearance. 

The ride in his black car decorated with gleaming small white roses and ribbons had been mostly silent, the two of you making no effort to start a conversation. Jungkook had never been one for small talk, more than content to let Taehyung talk for hours instead. The reason for your lack of conversation, though, was unknown to him. 

It was only when he was speeding through the highway that you had spoken to request that he slow down a bit. Your voice had been soft and timid, as if you were scared that Jungkook would lash out at you for the simple request. Or maybe that was just the way you spoke. Considering your personality, Jungkook wouldn’t find that too hard to believe.

Now the two of you walked through the entrance of his home, your eyes taking in the grandeur of it all. Despite its vastness, Jungkook felt that this was where he felt the most comfortable: between the white and fawn walls, the elaborately designed bannisters, and the creme marble floors. His home had remained the only constant in his life and, because of that, he cherished it immensely. 

There were only a few people that Jungkook had allowed inside, all of whom were people that he trusted with his life. This was the first time, he realised, that someone outside of those few was stepping foot onto the marble floor and laying their eyes on the spiralling staircase. It was an odd feeling, allowing you to enter into what he felt was the only place that truly allowed his mind and body to relax. 

He observed your reaction curiously, taking in your wide eyes. They bounced from one thing to the next, each structure seeming to fascinate you more and more. He still couldn’t shake off the feeling that you were assessing the space, but the logical part of him kept trying to reassure himself that you couldn’t possibly be considered any kind of threat. 

The sound of the door opening behind him pulled him from his thoughts. He turned around to find Taehyung walking through the doorway, a particular look on his face. Jungkook recognised it right away, causing him to turn to you for a moment while calling over one of the maids. 

“Get her to the bedroom,” Jungkook commanded the maid as Taehyung stepped beside him, “and help her take off her makeup and dress into something comfortable.”

The maid nodded before she began to guide you up the flight of stairs, pointing out a few directions here and there to get you comfortable with the new environment. Jungkook watched you look back at him and Taehyung for a split second, an unreadable look in your eyes, before you faced forward once again and allowed yourself to be dragged away wordlessly. 

Once you had disappeared up the stairs, Jungkook turned to Taehyung with a raised eyebrow.

“Well?” He prodded. 

Taehyung glanced at the top of the stairs to make sure you really were gone, “I should be asking you that. What do you think of her?”

Jungkook mulled over his question for a moment, “she seems to be everything you said she is. Although, are you sure-”

“She is one hundred percent twenty three years old. I triple checked that one,” Taehyung said immediately, hands up in a gesture of surrender. 

Jungkook let his hands nestle into his pockets, wondering if he should bring up his other concerns as well. Uptil now, you haven’t actually done or said anything worth garnering suspicion. Jungkook just seemed to be picking up on small things here and there, but he wasn’t sure if those things were just him being paranoid or genuinely things that he should be cautious over. This whole marriage thing was proving to be a lot more confusing than he had initially thought. 

“What is it?” Taehyung asked, noticing his friend’s silence. Jungkook hesitated for a moment, but, after earning a questioning look from Taehyung, he relented slightly. 

“How well of a background check did your parents do on her?” Jungkook asked cautiously. He didn’t want Taehyung to know too much of how he was feeling at the moment, in case this was just his mind being overactive, but something in Taehyung’s expression seemed to indicate that he knew a lot more than what Jungkook was letting on. 

“They did a very thorough one, of course,” Taehyung said, eyeing Jungkook knowingly, “you know my parents. If there’s one thing that they’re the best at, it’s uncovering people’s secrets.”

Then he added with a smile, “couldn’t get away with much while growing up because of it.”

Jungkook let his gaze wander around the room, “I just…”

“You’re just suspicious of her,” Taehyung finished, causing Jungkook to look his way, “of course you’re suspicious Jungkook, you’re letting a girl that you’ve never even met before into your house for the first time. It’s a natural reaction, especially considering how untrusting we’ve been conditioned to be since we were young.”

Taehyung clapped Jungkook on the back reassuringly, “I was the exact same way when I married Chaewon. Hell, in our first year of being married I even accused her of being a traitor when she was planning a surprise party for my birthday. When she finally told me… man, it took me a whole year to make it up to her. On another note, from a married man to a newly married man, don’t accuse your wife of anything unless you’re a hundred and ten percent sure of it. Otherwise you’ll never hear the end of it.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes, causing Taehyung to laugh.

“Besides, have you seen Y/N? She’s so shy and naive, her own reflection in the mirror must frighten her. I doubt you have anything to worry about, especially after my parents’ background check. Just enjoy yourself, man, it’s your wedding night,” Taehyung said with a knowing smirk. 

Obviously ignoring the suggestive comment, Jungkook nodded, finding logic in Taehyung’s other words. Jungkook had never been married, all of this was new to him. But if Taehyung, who had been married for almost a decade, said feelings like this were normal, then maybe he really was just being overly paranoid about the situation. You’d had a thorough background check done, which revealed nothing, and your personality was quite clear to Jungkook after he’d observed you at the wedding. 

It was time Jungkook started trying to enjoy this marriage as much as he could. He was going to be stuck with you indefinitely, and constantly being suspicious of you was only going to wear him out, especially since you now had access to the only place he allowed himself to be free of the constantly vigilant and calculating mind that came with being the leader of the Jeons. 

Jungkook turned to Taehyung, about to thank him for the insight, but the sound of the door opening once again caused the two to shift their gaze to behind them. The sight of the man walking through the doorway immediately had Jungkook wrinkling his nose in distaste while Taehyung’s expression had become a distant neutral. The man didn’t seem to mind the reactions if he noticed them, casually strolling deeper into the house until he was standing before the two. 

“Jungkook, Taehyung,” Daehyun nodded, the respectful gesture somehow seeming more disrespectful if anything. He had clearly just come back from the wedding, still wearing his black suit and light brown hair styled back, “you just got married, yet I see only Taehyung and no bride. Shall I assume the two of you are running away together?”

The tasteless joke was followed by a deep laugh, one that belonged to neither Jungkook nor Taehyung. Instead they just stared at him with an unamused scowl.

“Relax, it’s only a joke,” he shook his head, gaze wandering the place casually, “I doubt your wife and kid would like the thought of that anyway.”

Taehyung’s jaw ticked at Daehyun’s words. Even if he hadn’t directly threatened or disrespected them in any way, just the mention of his family from his mouth was enough for Taehyung’s gaze to turn icy.

“Careful Daehyun, you’re standing before two mafia leaders,” Taehyung said, voice low and intimidating, “I would be less casual in our presence if I were you.”

To Taehyung and Jungkook’s dismay, Daehyun simply chuckled, “ah yes, but Jungkook and I are cousins. He’ll cut me some slack, won’t he?”

Jungkook didn’t answer, even after Daehyun gave his arm a lighthearted punch. Daehyun was the cousin that Jungkook could never be rid of, no matter how badly he wanted to. He was slimy and tactless and everything Jungkook hated rolled into one unbearable being. Having to give him access to his home, his only place of peace, had been one of the hardest things to do. But at the time, Jungkook had had to make sacrifices and this had been one of them. 

Daehyun, undeterred by his cousin’s lack of response, leaned his arm on Jungkook’s shoulder casually, “congratulations by the way. When I saw your wife’s face- god did she look young! You’re so lucky man, I hope my future wife turns out like that.”

Jungkook grimaced as he suddenly felt the desire to wipe off any remnants of Daehyun’s touch from his suit. Daehyun had attended the same university as Taehyung and Jungkook, yet he had evidently obtained none of the class that they had. Everyday he wondered how the two of them could possibly be related. For the sake of Jungkook’s mental wellbeing, sometimes he liked to imagine Daehyun had actually been adopted and his parents had simply decided not to share that piece of information. 

“I should get going,” Jungkook said stiffly, brushing his cousin’s arm off his shoulder. He fixed his suit as Daehyung smirked at him, likely thinking of Jungkook’s comment as more suggestive than he had actually meant. 

Jungkook faced Taehyung to give him a curt nod before he turned and began walking up the stairs, not bothering to use the fawn iron bannisters on either side of him. He could hear Taehyung taking his leave through the front door, dragging a complaining Daehyun behind him to Jungkook’s satisfaction. The sound of the front door shutting had never sounded so delightful. 

A silence ensued as Jungkook walked through the hallway upstairs, continuing until he paused in front of his bedroom’s door. He couldn’t hear any noises coming from inside the room, so, with a light knock against the white and fawn wood, his hand wrapped around the handle to turn it and finally push the door open. 

The windows displayed an almost set sun, coating the atmosphere in a blanket of dimness. Everything about his bedroom had been changed. His once dark brown and white bed had been switched out for a cream and fawn coloured one, with a bouquet of vibrant red roses sitting atop the fancy and plush duvet, while his black leather couches had been replaced by light cloth ones. The ceiling and walls had been painted white, complimenting the new white and fawn patterned marble floor. His old dresser had also disappeared, a cream coloured dresser twice its size sitting in its place instead. 

Aside from the drastic changes that had been made to his bedroom, no doubt to signify the change that came with marriage, the first thing Jungkook noticed was the maid who was drawing the curtains closed. The room would have fallen into complete darkness if it weren’t for the lamps sitting atop the bedside tables which were emanating a warm light around the space. 

The second thing he noticed was you, who was sitting timidly on the edge of the bed and facing him. Your fingers were playing awkwardly in front of you while your gaze had been fixed on the floor, but at the sound of the door opening, your head raised to look at Jungkook. The sight of your face once again caught him off guard, the lack of makeup revealing a different side of you. 

You no longer looked young. Without the innocent look that had been created with the blushes and the eyeliners and the lip glosses, Jungkook could see the mature shape of your eyes and the defined look of your features. You looked your age now, a lot more maturity prominent in your appearance. 

You were pretty. Jungkook could admit that much now that you didn’t resemble a teenager. He wondered why you had done your makeup like that in the first place. He’d been to many weddings before and none of the brides had been made to look so young. Then again, Taehyung had already told him that, on top of looking innocent and naive, you seemed to dress the part as well. 

“Is something wrong?” Your soft voice asked, eyes blinking innocently up at him. 

Jungkook shook his head, motioning for the maid to leave the room. She gave you both a low bow before scurrying out the doorway, making sure to close the door behind her. 

“No,” he finally answered. For the first time in a long time he wasn’t entirely sure what to do. He wasn’t sure if you were expecting anything to happen tonight, or if you even wanted anything to happen for now. 

His gaze lowered as he mulled over his next actions. You had changed out of your wedding dress into a light pink, mesh lace nightgown that came all the way down to your knees with a silk bow stitched into the centre of your chest, as if your clothes were meant to compensate for the lack of makeup dolling up your features. He almost wanted to raise an eyebrow at you, but you seemed much too fragile to be ridiculed. 

Alternatively, he decided to take an experimental step in your direction, surveying your reaction closely. He watched your fingers close tighter around the duvet on which you sat, your gaze hesitantly darting everywhere but him. That was answer enough for him to know how far you were ready to take it tonight. So instead, he passed the bed, opting instead to drop onto the couch on the far end of the room. While he was facing you, you had to turn your head to keep him in your sights. 

“What would you like to do now?” He asked you, resting an arm over the back of the couch while he crossed an ankle over his knee. 

Your gaze dropped to your lap, watching your fingers fidget against each other nervously. It was almost as if having to answer a question like that had you stressed, which again made Jungkook wonder how you had survived growing up in a mafia family. How could you have been this weak?

“I-I don’t know,” you squeaked, not able to meet his gaze. 

Jungkook sighed, turning his head to the side to survey the room. Technically, the two of you could just call it a night and go to sleep. You were clearly too shy to even speak a word to him, and Jungkook had never been one to beg others for things. Only time would tell how well the two of you would get to know each other. 

But then Jungkook’s gaze dropped to the coffee table in front of him, noticing some sort of gift basket placed in its centre. It was obviously a wedding gift, filled with chocolates, scented candles, roses… and some wine and champagne. Jungkook has always been more of a whiskey guy, but right now he’d take just about anything. 

“Why don’t we have a drink?” He suggested, uncrossing his leg so that he could lean forward and grab the top of the expensive-looking bottle of red wine. He prayed you weren’t one of those people that didn’t drink, your innocent personality couldn’t possibly extend all the way to drinking as well. 

You paused for a moment, taking in the bottle in Jungkook’s hand, before slowly nodding your head, to Jungkook’s relief. 

He beckoned you over with his free hand, “come here.”

You hesitated before slowly pushing yourself off the bed and took small steps towards him. Jungkook waited patiently until you were standing right in front of the couch, hands clasped shyly in front of you while your gaze stayed glued to the floor. He held up the bottle of wine and champagne in front of you, hoping you weren’t so dumb that you wouldn’t understand the question in his actions. Thankfully you studied the two bottles before a shaky hand raised and tapped against the bottle of champagne. 

He pushed the bottle in your direction, forcing you to take it in your own hands, before standing up from the couch. The unexpected action seemed to scare you, causing you to immediately take a timid step backwards while you hugged the bottle to your chest. Jungkook had to suppress a tired, and maybe even slightly annoyed sigh, as he manoeuvred past you. He was trying to be patient, but this was becoming ridiculous. 

“You get that open while I wash up,” he said to you, pointing at the bottle still pressed to your chest, “okay?”

You nodded slowly, allowing him to turn away from you and walk into the joint bathroom. Once the door was closed behind him he let out the sigh he had suppressed earlier. You really were… something. He couldn’t believe he had been suspicious of you earlier when you could barely even function properly, much less be any sort of threat. It was irritating, Jungkook felt, to have someone so incompetent for a wife. He wondered if he would have to break you out of that shell. You were the wife of a mafia leader now after all, you had to keep up at least some air of confidence in the presence of others so that you didn’t make him look weak. 

Jungkook walked over to the sink and turned it on, splashing some cold water on his face before he began brushing his teeth. You were far from his ideal type, and he doubted this marriage would ever stem into whatever Taehyung and Chaewon had going on. Hell, he was wondering how the two of you could ever even produce an heir. You’d probably spontaneously combust if he even tried to touch you. And besides, he didn’t really want to touch you if he was being honest. You reminded him too much of a weak and helpless child, which was obviously a huge turn off. He may have been a mafia leader, but he wasn’t a complete monster. 

Jungkook placed his toothbrush into the holder after spitting into the sink, drying himself off with one of the towels hanging near him. He was about to start changing into more comfortable clothes, only getting as far as unbuttoning the first few buttons of his black collar shirt, before a crashing sound rang from the bedroom. In less than a second he had pushed out of the bathroom, immediately scanning the bedroom before him as his hand automatically sought out the gun at his side. 

It took him a moment to realise the lack of intruders in the room, and then another to take in your completely unharmed form. You were standing with your hands covering your mouth, looking down at the ground. Jungkook followed your gaze to find the champagne bottle rolling along the marble floor, still entirely intact. You had clearly dropped the thing accidentally, causing Jungkook to place his gun back in his waistband.

“I’m s-so sorry,” you squeaked, bending down quickly to pick up the bottle. Suppressing a huff, Jungkook walked over to you to take it from your hands. 

“Here, let me do it,” he said, taking two of the crystal champagne flutes from the gift basket and placing them on the glass coffee table as he sat himself down on the couch, distantly annoyed at the fact that you couldn’t even pour a glass of champagne by yourself. Was this seriously what he was going to have to deal with from now on?

He tipped the bottle, filling both glasses to the brim with the bubbling liquid as you hesitantly sat yourself down on the couch to his left. His gaze fell on you as he was about to offer you one of the flutes, but paused when he noticed the look on your face. For the first time since he met you, you looked almost… excited. Usually your eyes would be downturned and focused on the floor, but this time they were fixed on the crystal glasses before you as if you were eager to taste the expensive liquid. Jungkook made a note of it, tucking it into the back of his mind for later. 

“Take one,” he said as he motioned towards one of the glasses, but to his surprise you hesitantly shook your head. Your expression had turned timid once again, any hint of excitement from earlier entirely gone. He narrowed his eyes at you as he wondered if he had just imagined it. It had barely been there anyway. 

“I don’t drink,” you said in your signature soft tone, not able to meet his gaze. Of course you don’t, Jungkook thought irritatedly, god forbid the princess touch a glass of champagne. He knew the thought was immature, but there was no way he was the most immature person in the room at the moment. 

He pushed himself off the couch, very much aware that his patience was starting to wear thin, “well then I guess we should call it a night.”

But before he could step towards the bed, your hand shot out, clutching the edge of his sleeve with your fingers. He immediately looked down at your still seated form, a question in his eyes. You had to look away for a moment, seemingly collecting your nerves, before you met his gaze once again. 

“Just because I don’t drink doesn’t mean you can’t,” you said, “I don’t want you not to enjoy yourself because of me. Please stay.”

Jungkook noticed the evident guilt in your eyes as your fingers continued to stay enclosed around the edge of his sleeve. When he didn’t move, you hesitantly leaned forward to gently pick up one of the glasses and then slowly presented it to him. His gaze shifted to the glass in your hand, pausing for only a moment, before he took it from you. He let himself sink back onto the couch as he studied you. 

You continued to sit in your spot on the sofa, posture still timid. Your gaze bounced from one part of the floor to the next, while your expression remained shy. But there was something else lurking behind the expression. If Jungkook focused well enough, he could have sworn the edges of your lips were turned slightly upwards. It was so faint that it might have not even been there, but the more he focused, the more prominent it became to him. 

A naive part of him might have thought it was from being successful in getting him to stay and have the drink, but the more logical part of him had already latched onto an idea, one that refused to be swept to the side any longer. 

His gaze lowered to your collarbone, a glint from the heart-shaped necklace resting over your soft skin catching his attention. Unlike earlier, he noticed that the metal heart was actually a locket, and that its two sides were slightly open. It couldn’t have been ajar by more than a millimetre, but Jungkook still noted it down in his mind.

His gaze then ascended to your face, still a perfect picture of innocence. Your eyes were widened to resemble a curious doe, while your lips were pulled into a timid line. The hands resting in your lap fumbled with each other shyly, really completing the look. 

Finally, his gaze dropped to the drink in his hand. He brought it closer to his face, as if he were about to take a sip, before eyeing the expensive liquid. His gaze fixed on the miniscule bubbles that continued travelled from the bottom of the flute to its surface, causing it to sizzle.

Jungkook slowly leaned forward, keeping his eye on his drink as he brought it away from his lips and instead calmly set it down on the coffee table before him. He then easily pushed himself off of the couch, which caused your brows to jump. There was an apparent question in your expression, one you decided to voice out loud. 

“Is something wrong with the drink?” You asked, voice still soft as your doe eyes looked up at him through your lashes. 

Ignoring the question, Jungkook placed a hand on the edge of the coffee table and slowly pushed it forward so that it was farther away from your seated form. The action caused you to blink. 

“Is everything okay?” You tried again slowly.

But Jungkook then faced you, assessing you for a moment, before he took a few steps in your direction. You had to crane your neck upwards to continue meeting his gaze, his tall form towering over your seated one. This time your brows pulled together, eyes still doe-like, as you continued to question his actions. 

“Jungko-”

Jungkook didn’t let you finish. The second you opened your mouth his large hand suddenly shot out and grabbed your neck, slamming your head into the seat of the couch. You squeaked at the sudden violence, immediately clawing at the fingers now enclosed around your throat. But your efforts were nothing in comparison to Jungkook’s iron hold. 

“J-Jungkook, you’re h-hurting me!” You let out a choked cry, continuing to put up a weak fight against Jungkook. Tears had already started to coat your eyes and run down your cheeks, but Jungkook ignored them completely. He watched you struggle, fascinated by the way you thrashed around like an animal yet every jab at him was weak and ineffective. There was no sign of the strength he had noticed when you had grabbed onto his bicep earlier, so hard that he was sure it would leave a bruise. It was enough to make him grin.

Jungkook lowered his face so that his lips neared your ear, his body still hovering over your smaller form. 

“If you wanted to kill me princess, you’ll have to do a better job than that,” he said, voice low. Your eyes widened even further as you continued to struggle against him, making pitiful noises that didn’t move him in the slightest. 

“K-Kill?! What are y-you talking about?!” You continued to choke out as tears streamed down your cheeks. Your hands had moved to his chest, desperately trying to push him away, yet failing miserably in the process. Jungkook tilted his head at your weak plea, eager to hear what other ways you’d beg him to let you go.

 “P-please-” You began, but then cut yourself off abruptly when your tear-filled gaze met his. You must have seen something in his eyes, because he felt your body slacken, no longer desperate to fight him despite his hold on your neck cutting off your lung’s supply of air. 

Instead you studied him, really studied him. He could see the same calculated look you had used on Taehyung earlier during the wedding. It was as if you were assessing Jungkook, picking out his strengths and weaknesses to figure out how you could use them to your advantage. He watched you weigh options in your head patiently before you finally tilted your head to the side calmly and shot him a look. In response, Jungkook decided to loosen his grip on your throat. He watched you catch your breath for a moment before you spoke. 

“Well, you’re already smarter than the first one,” you commented, but your voice was entirely different. It was no longer soft and timid, rather it was a lot more deep and confident. He watched your expression change in the same manner. Your once wide and innocent looking eyes narrowed into a more matured look, while your lips straightened into more of a dangerously amused grin than a naive pout. 

Then he processed your words. The ‘first one’ had to be your first husband, who Taehyung had explained had been killed on his wedding day. Taehyung had mentioned that a rival gang had been the one to murder him, but the actual one responsible for his death was clear to Jungkook now. 

“Do you make it a hobby to poison your husbands’ drinks on their wedding nights?” He asked, hand still wrapped around your throat. He had situated himself between your legs, his own leg pushing one of yours against the back of the couch while his free hand pushed the other down against the seat of the couch. The position ensured you wouldn’t be able to kick him, while his body hovering over your own seemed to take care of the rest of you. You were smart enough not to try anything anyway, knowing Jungkook’s strength was incomparable to yours.

You shrugged, panting at the limited oxygen entering your lungs, “golf just wasn’t cutting it for me anymore.”

“Golf? How can a weak and helpless girl like you play such a sport?” Jungkook couldn’t help but quip, bordering on mocking you. It only made you grin, clearly no hint of offence in your expression. 

He studied your nonchalant demeanour curiously. You had tried to kill him, and he should send your head back to your father’s doorstep for it. And yet, you couldn’t have looked any less composed with his hand around your neck. Either you were a complete idiot, which seemed much less likely now that he was starting to see your real character, or you believed you had the upper hand in this situation. 

“You’re quite calm for someone I should have killed,” he noted, meaning for it to be a threat. But once again you didn’t seem deterred. In fact, the comment seemed to amuse you even more. 

“Just because you should have me killed doesn’t mean you’ll actually have me killed.”

Jungkook’s brow raised, finding an opportunity to prod you further, “and why won’t I have you killed? Your father sent you here to kill me under the pretence of an alliance. I should start a war for this.”

You nodded, “but you see, my father did send me here to form an alliance. The whole killing you idea was all mine.”

Jungkook scoffed at the lame attempt at a lie, “you expect me to believe that?”

But you scoffed as well, meeting his gaze just as vehemently. It was an odd sight considering you had spent the entire day trying to make yourself small and avoiding his gaze. Yet here you were now, eyes ablaze like a thrashing fire. Not a spontaneously violent fire either, no Jungkook could very easily handle that. You were more like an electrical fire. It was becoming increasingly apparent that he had to be cautious around you, and that trusting any word that came out of your mouth was dangerous. 

“Prove it then,” he challenged, tightening his hold on your neck for a moment to remind you of your vulnerability. 

“I don’t need to prove anything,” you said, a hand coming up to wrap around his wrist, “just go ahead and mention to my father that I’m not a complete airhead that’s afraid of her own shadow. He’ll laugh in your face and call you a moron.”

The revelation that your father was just as clueless about your true self as everyone else only confirmed his initial thoughts. It also proved he couldn’t have trusted you to carry out an assassination attempt, meaning your father really did genuinely want an alliance with the Jeons. That was perfect, because Jungkook had certain plans that relied on this partnership. It was a relief that they hadn’t gone to waste.

“If it wasn’t your father’s idea, then why did you poison my drink?” He asked with a raised brow. 

Silence filled the room following his question, one that allowed you both to hear the sounds of the wall clock. He got the feeling that you were contemplating something once again, planning out your next move.

Then you squirmed underneath him, seemingly getting comfortable, but Jungkook knew better than to believe whatever you appeared as. The second your hand went for the gun wedged in his waistband, he grabbed your wrist, pining it against the couch, while the hand that had been around your throat pulled out the matte black weapon. He slowly brought it to your temple with an amused grin.

“If you wanted it so badly, you could have just asked,” he taunted, bringing the gun down so that its barrel lifted your chin, “now, I asked a question princess.”

You huffed, your amusement finally falling to give him a half-hearted glare.

“I want a divorce.”

Jungkook couldn’t help the laugh that sounded from his lips at your straightforwardness. You just tried to kill him, it didn’t take a genius to work out that you weren’t a fan of this marriage and wanted out of it. 

It was an arranged marriage after all, and even though all arranged marriages didn’t equal a forced marriage, technically he couldn’t be certain that this marriage was of your own choice or not. For all he knew, you had some secret lover waiting for you back home, your marriage with Jungkook coming between the star crossed romance. The thought made his jaw tick. He was far from in love with you, but Jungkook tended to be territorial about what was his. And you were his wife at the moment. 

You, on the other hand, seemed surprised by his reaction, as if it was the last thing you expected him to do.

“I mean you obviously want one now too, right?” You asked with your brows furrowed.

Jungkook didn’t respond, and that only seemed to make you more agitated.

“I’m not the wife that you want. You clearly can’t stand me when I have my ditzy front pulled up and you can’t trust me when I don’t.”

Although the points that you were making were true, there was one important factor you were missing, and that was the alliance between the Jeons and the Lees. Jungkook needed this alliance to, at the very least make himself seem like, he was more powerful than the Parks and the Mins. And with their recent moves -with what he saw at the docks just last night- he needed this alliance now more than ever. So while he normally would have had you executed and then sent your head to your father’s doorstep for your little assassination attempt, this time he was going to have to sweep his pride to the side.

Jungkook placed his free hand next to your head as he pushed himself up, choosing instead to stay standing in front of the sofa. His intense gaze dropped to your still form while his gun hung from his fingers firmly. 

“No,” he finally said, causing your brows to jump. 

You quickly pushed yourself off the couch to stand just as he was, but Jungkook didn’t move. With the sofa right behind you, barring you from taking a few steps back, that left you and him standing dangerously close to each other. The bow from your nightgown pressed against his partly unbuttoned black collar shirt, while its edge grazed his dress pants. Jungkook could feel the heat of your breath raise goosebumps from his exposed collarbone. 

“Why not? I’m not the wife that you want.”

He smiled at the bite in your words, finding your frustration amusing, “you’ve got it all wrong. I simply wanted a wife to make the Lees allies, nothing more.”

Like a fire set alight, your eyes flashed in anger, “I won’t change. I’ll still be your idiot wife that will make you look weak.”

It was true that most wives of mafia leaders were strong and confident beings, symbols of their husbands’ power, and that having a wife like you may be a slightly risky choice. But Jungkook was sure his carefully established reputation could take the hit. Besides, although you might make him look weak, your marriage with him would make him far from actually weak. 

“You think divorcing you won’t make me look weak?” Jungkook decided to say, unsure of if he was saying it to play with you more or to make sure you don’t believe your threats are inconveniencing him, “you’ve fooled everyone with your ditzy facade. A divorce will make them think I wasn’t able to tame a naive girl. You think people will accept me as a leader then?”

You didn’t react to the point, giving him the feeling that you might have already known that might pose an issue for him. Perhaps you thought his reputation could take the hit? When Jungkook really thought about it, it probably could have. He’d worked hard to be both feared and respected for years, a divorce like this, while questionable in the eyes of the people under him, could have been pushed under the rug given time. But the alliance was too important to him. 

And that was something he needed to make sure you knew. 

“That means you will continue to be my wife,” he settled, lowering his gaze so that it met yours with unwavering finality, “so you’ll continue to act like it.”

Jungkook felt his voice naturally lower, a hint of a threat evident in his tone, “listen to me well, Y/N. I don’t care if you act like the dumbest woman on Earth or the most sultry. Regardless, what you will act like is my wife. When we’re outside of this bedroom, we will laugh together, we will hug each other, and we will do whatever other damn thing married couples do so that no one doubts this relationship.”

“And if I don’t?” You bit, the speed of your reply making his jaw tick. 

“If you don’t, you can stay locked in this bedroom until you learn how to behave. Understood?”

Your rage couldn’t have been more prominent, with a fierce glare burning right through him and a pair of fisted hands at your sides. Yet Jungkook ignored it all, instead meeting your gaze coolly as he waited for your confirmation. 

It took a long moment to come, so long that Jungkook thought it wasn’t going to come at all. But eventually he noticed you nod your head. It was barely a movement, your head tipping down slightly before resuming its earlier place, but it was enough for him despite your unwavering glare. 

He finally took a few steps back, thrusting the barrel of his gun once again into the waistband of his pants. Your angry form, on the other hand, didn’t move, opting instead to stand perfectly still despite your calves pressing into the sofa behind you. Jungkook ran a hand through his hair, brushing the strands that had fallen onto his forehead away from his face.

“Good, then we’re done here.”

He finally turned away from you, eyeing the door on his left intently. But before he could move towards it, your words made him pause.

“I just tried to kill you,” you commented before he turned to question its randomness. He found you sitting on the sofa once again, an eerily thoughtful look lurking behind your rage-filled eyes, “how will you know I won’t do it again?”

Jungkook tilted his head in response. 

“You can try all you want, princess,” he said, liking the feeling of that nickname on his tongue more and more. It was almost addicting, “but you won’t succeed.”

Then his lips curled into a sly smirk, “after all, what kind of husband would I be if I barred my wife from her hobbies?”

He was able to just barely catch the roll of your eyes before he turned and pushed through the door he had been eyeing earlier, his hands automatically locking it behind him as he casually surveyed his office. The room had been spared from the new gleaming white and fawn furniture which had taken over his bedroom. Instead, it was filled with familiar dark brown.

Refined dark oak wood shelves and cabinets lined the walls except for the wall behind his large desk, which was made up entirely of a bookshelf filled to the brim with various hardcovers. For the sake of matching with the rest of the house, the marble floor had been done a light fawn colour, while another wall was made up of bulletproof glass, its centre having the ability to slide open to reveal a decent sized balcony. 

Jungkook shrugged off his blazer as he made his way to his desk, laying the piece of cloth over the back of his black leather chair, before he opened the glass cabinet behind it. He didn’t need to think much as his fingers expertly curled around an expensive bottle of whiskey and a crystal glass. Before he knew it, he found himself standing outside on his balcony overlooking his estate, one hand holding the crystal glass filled halfway with light brown liquid while the other clutched the iron railing. 

His gaze bounced around his estate for a peaceful moment as he took a sip from his glass, taking in the expanse of the luscious green field bordering the neatly done driveway despite the darkness of the night. In its centre was an intricately designed white fountain spewing water in four different directions, but all of which emptied systematically into the white basin at its base. The estate itself stretched for metres, the gates enclosing the space barely visible from where he was standing. Jungkook’s thoughts bounced around his head just as quickly as his gaze. 

What a day it had been. At first, you’d been a complete idiot, one that had irritated him to no extent with your doe eyes and evident shyness. 

But then you had turned out to be an entirely different species, far from the innocent and ditzy girl he’d labelled you as. You were cunning and feisty and seemingly very much ready for a divorce. 

Jungkook felt the corners of his lips pull upwards into a grin as he took another sip of his whisky.

You were quite the enigma.

But he was going to enjoy the challenge.  

A/N: comments, reblogs, and likes are appreciated!

Fool's Gold || JJK

Summary: Sweet Y/N, with her fluffy pastel dresses, soft makeup, and ditzy mannerisms. She’s seen as a fool in a world where there is no place for such things, but little do they know, the only fools are them.

Pairing: mafia leader!Jungkook x mafia leader's daughter!reader

Genre: mafia au, arranged marriage au

Warnings: most warnings associated with mafia fics (e.g. gun/physical violence, blood, dead bodies, etc), additional warnings might be added as the story progresses

Parts Index:

Part 1 | 10k

Part 2 | 10.2k

Part 3 | 15.5k

Part 4 | coming soon…

Fool's Gold || Part II

Summary: Sweet Y/N, with her fluffy pastel dresses, soft makeup, and ditzy mannerisms. She’s seen as a fool in a world where there is no place for such things, but little do they know, the only fools are them.

Pairing: mafia leader!Jungkook x mafia leader's daughter!reader

Genre: mafia au, arranged marriage au

Word Count: 10.2k

Warnings: most warnings associated with mafia fics (e.g. gun/physical violence, blood, dead bodies, etc), very vague indication of past sexual assault, additional warnings might be added as the story progresses

A/N: thank you guys so much for all the love you gave the first part, it means so much to me 🥺 Hope you enjoy this chapter too (Y/N and Jungkook bicker for like half of it 💀)

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It was supposed to be simple. 

You kill Jungkook, breaking up the alliance between the Lees and the Jeons, blame his murder on a rival mafia, and then be on your merry way back to your father’s home before you could be caught up in the chaos you’d have started. Sure it hadn’t been the most complex of plans you’ve come up with, you hardly had the time to map out a plan like that anyway, but sometimes simple was all one needed. 

Unfortunately, this had clearly not been one of those times. 

The problem was Jungkook. Your first husband had been an idiot and completely fooled by your featherbrained facade, so much so that even after you’d stolen the gun from his waistband and shot him twice in the chest he’d stared at you like you’d grown two heads. He just couldn’t comprehend the fact that a seemingly frivolous girl could have the courage to pull the trigger. Even after what he’d tried to do to you. After he almost-

You felt a shudder sweep across your spine.

But Jungkook was different. He had been assessing you the second you appeared before him during the wedding ceremony and, even though he had seemed to take in your carefully crafted performance, his gaze still refused to complete its assessment. At first you thought it was just lust -most men in the mafia couldn’t seem to be rid of that tenacious emotion- however, the lack of sexual initiation on his part despite being alone together in his room made you realise that perhaps Jungkook was a lot less like the mafia leaders you had grown up with than you realised. 

For one, he was scarily observant, and it was this skill that had ultimately led to the downfall of your assassination attempt. 

A huff escaped your lips at the thought, your hands continuing to expertly manoeuvre two pins inside the lock of the door you were currently crouched in front of. You had stayed sat on Jungkook’s bed the entire night, too wary to even attempt sleeping in the bedroom that was entirely unfamiliar to you. You half expected Jungkook to sneak into the room while you were out cold and enact a fitting revenge; you’d be unable to even blame him, you’d tried to kill the man after all. But Jungkook hadn’t left the mystery room all night, only emerging once the clock had struck 7 in the morning to wordlessly grab a black coat from the top of his dresser and disappear behind the front door with nothing but a single, hasty glance in your direction. 

Your brow had raised as you watched him get into his black car and drive off through the window, wondering how he could just leave you unattended in his home after the threat you had dropped near the end of your conversation earlier. Sure he probably had people monitoring his house at all times, but there was still a lot you could get done in front of people that wouldn’t suspect the girl with fluffy dresses and doe eyes to be much of a threat. 

Luckily for him though, you were beyond tired, and that meant that his absence was just a window of opportunity to get some actual rest without the constant fear of his retaliation keeping you awake. So following a long yawn, you had naturally felt yourself drift towards the bed, eyeing the soft duvet and fluffy pillows sleepily. But then, before you could lose yourself to the comfort of his mattress, your curious gaze had slowly wandered to the door Jungkook had disappeared behind last night and, next thing you knew, you were crouched in front of its gold lock and jabbing two pins into its keyhole. 

Your focus snapped back to the door before you as a familiar click sounded from the lock, causing it to swing open just a few centimetres. You pocketed the two pins, muttering a small “finally...” while your fingers wrapped around the gold handle. But before you could push it open, the muffled sound of an object dropping suddenly startled you. You whirled around, eyes immediately scanning the bedroom with intense precision as your hand grabbed the closest thing to you: a vase. Had someone managed to get into the room without you knowing? Perhaps you weren’t as observant as Jungkook seemed to be, but you’ve never been so absentminded that you could’ve been this caught off guard-

“Oh my god,” you gasped abruptly, a recollection surfacing as you quickly placed the vase back on the bedside table and scurried over to the closet. You couldn’t believe you had forgotten something so important… She must have been waiting in there the entire night.

You hastily threw open the closet door, gaze scanning the space until it finally fell on a small shadow peeking from behind the white and fawn island. The black shadow stood still for a moment, as if identifying the intruder, before the familiar cat sauntered out of the small space, black fur gleaming under the light. She looked up at you with an expression that eerily resembled a scowl. 

“Hi Persilla,” you cooed, crouching down to run a hand apologetically through the creature’s fur. Persilla evaded it at first, almost punishing you for forgetting her in the small, dark walk-in closet for the entire night, but eventually she gave in, purring as she brushed her soft tail against your still bare legs. While you could understand being stuck in a place like that for hours might’ve been slightly uncomfortable, she really had no right to act like that after how damn hard it had been to have her smuggled into Jungkook’s house without alerting anyone. It had been a huge risk, one that you might have a little trouble justifying, but you swear there was just something calming about her presence and you needed that desperately, especially in such a foreign place. 

“I failed to kill him,” you frowned, watching as Persilla’s feline eyes raised to watch you, “which means we’re going to have to stay here a little longer than I thought.”

You pulled yourself from the floor, shifting your focus back to Jungkook’s mystery room as you felt a pang of irritation hit you. You needed Jungkook dead, the delay in his death getting in the way of everything you’ve been working towards. Yet here you were now, stuck in the house you thought you wouldn’t be spending more than a night in. 

You cautiously walked over to the door you’d lock picked earlier, taking special care not to step on Persilla as she skittered between your feet, before grabbing the handle and pushing it open. The room turned out to be a seemingly simple office, which you found unsurprising for the most part. There was a wall full of books on one side, a glass cabinet of liquor wedged between its centre, while another wall was made up entirely of glass that showed off an enormous portion of Jungkook’s estate. It was the large desk to your right that really caught your attention, the sight of a map sprawled over its smooth surface particularly piquing your interest. 

You walked towards the glass cabinet first, pulling out a crystal glass and a bottle of whiskey to pour yourself a drink, before you walked over to the desk and glanced at the map curiously. Persilla jumped onto the surface, circling the piece of paper like a predator surveying its prey. 

“It’s a map of the North,” you noted, taking a sip of the drink in your hand momentarily as you recognised the illustration instantly. You’d spend months studying a similar map back home before marrying Jungkook after all.

Handmade lines ran throughout the northern portion of the country, separating the territories run by different mafia leaders. You recognised Jungkook’s territory first, one of the bigger ones in the region, while Taehyung’s was right next to his, both of which were detailed with the locations of different landmarks: docks, hotels, residential areas, etc. You noticed that the other territories hadn’t been labelled like that, with the territory above Jungkook’s labelled “Park Territory” simply containing one or two locations and the territory labelled “Min Territory” containing no locations. There was a region above those two territories that hadn’t even been labelled at all, similar to your own map of the North back at home. 

“Aside from Taehyung’s territory, Jungkook doesn’t seem to know much about the northern region. I guess we’re similar in that aspect,” you muttered, speaking to Persilla as if you were giving her a report of the current situation. She turned towards you, tilting her head for a moment before she nudged the corner of the paper with her paw. You narrowed your gaze at the action, deciding to flip the paper. To your surprise there was another map, this time illustrating the southern portion of the country; the one where your father’s territory, the Lees, was situated and where you’d grown up your entire life. 

You smiled at Persilla, scratching under her chin while she purred in delight at the attention. What would you do without her?

It was surprising to see this map so much more detailed than the first, you thought, taking another sip of the whiskey in your hand. While Taehyung’s territory had been the only one littered with details in the northern region, all the territories in the South were full of details upon details. You could make out each one labelled with its respective mafia leader, a number of important locations, and even predictions about possible actions each leader might take in the future, all of which you could confirm to be highly accurate.

You flipped the map back to how it had been initially, gaze raising to move onto scanning the rest of the room while Persilla dropped to the floor quietly.

“How could Jungkook know so little about the northern region, yet so much about the South?” You thought out loud, tracking Persilla’s movements as she began pacing around the room. He was clearly great at collecting intel, the amount of information he had on the southern region was evidence of that, yet the North, his own region, was practically blank aside from Taehyung’s territory. Having grown up in the southern region yourself, you knew it better than the back of your hand. So if Jungkook had grown up in the North, how could he know so little about it? Was there some kind of history between the mafias in the North? 

Like your thoughts, you began absentmindedly drifting towards the enormous bookshelf, fingers brushing against the hardcover spines. 

If there really was history between the northern mafias, then knowing that history could be useful. Once you killed Jungkook and blamed his death on Park Jimin, there would be war between the Jeons and the Parks, and since the Kims and Mins are allied with the Jeons and Parks, respectively, it would be a full on war of the North. It’s that kind of instability you were aiming for, but knowing the more personal history of the northern mafias might help you create further tensions between the alliances, making things even more unstable. It would be perfect; the messier the better. That’s what your ultimate plan called for. That’s how you’ll finally-

You suddenly came to an abrupt stop, your fingers freezing as they came in contact with a particular book. It was a hardcover, just like the others, entirely black aside from the title, which had been written in bright gold, and the off-white pages. 

Persilla was back to skittering between your ankles once again, as if sensing the change in your thoughts. Her soft, black tail brushed against your bare legs as you delicately brought out the book with both your hands, wide eyes scanning it almost in disbelief. 

The Choice of a Nation.

It was the book that had changed your life. A fictitious book about a protagonist that lived in a world of human rights, justice, and structure. A world where everyone, more or less, was defined by their achievements and hard work rather than who they were born to. 

Reality was far from that. It was an enormous country cut up into territories based on which mafia leader ruled it. It was having to grow up watching innocent people be slaughtered because of petty disputes between said mafia leaders. It was watching people from mafia families be automatically rich and educated and powerful while people born to those under their rule automatically be poor, uneducated, and stepped on again and again and again. You were taught that this way of living was normal, that it was the only way of living in this world. 

Reality was something you’ve always found difficult to come to terms with because of this, because despite being taught the normalcy of such a way of living, it never seemed right to you. You couldn’t wrap your head around the idea of people’s entire lives being dependent on who they were born to, something that wasn’t in their control. If you were born a servant, you and the rest of your generations would stay servants forever. If you were born a mafia leader, you and your future generations would stay in power forever. Your sentiments made you feel alien when you realised no one else around you seemed to share the same thoughts, so much so that you started wondering that perhaps you really were being too unrealistic. 

But then came The Choice of a Nation, a book that introduced to you concepts like governments and elections and courts. It was all entirely fiction, every term having to be explained in great detail to be understandable, but all that mattered to you was that it was doable. Having different levels of governments, having a justice system that judged everyone fairly no matter who they were, and having the people decide who they want leading them. It was realistic. 

And you’re convinced that the mafia families knew it too, because despite its fictitious nature, the book was immediately banned the second it was published, while its author had been killed just as quickly. You yourself had only gotten your hands on the book out of sheer dumb luck. Distantly you wondered how and why Jungkook had this copy. 

After that you had become dead set on making the book’s world a reality. But in order for things to go as you’ve planned, you need things to be unstable, because unstable things are weak. The South has always been like that, with mafia leaders constantly at each other’s throats. You doubt any of them even know what the word ‘alliance’ even means. It was perfect for you. 

The North, on the other hand, was a bit different. There were two alliances and the most northern region was a complete mystery to you. At first, you were stumped with how you were going to weaken the region, but then the opportunity had presented itself when your father had announced your hasty marriage to Jungkook. And once again, it was perfect. 

All you needed was Jungkook to be dead, and the rest would fall in place just like you’d planned. 

A meowing noise suddenly sounded from your feet, causing you to look down and find Persilla standing on her hind legs, her front paws brushing against your bare shins repeatedly. Her impatience was clear as day, making you smile. 

“You’re right, that’s enough snooping for today I think,” you nodded, running a hand over her small head while the other clutched the book firmly, “you deserve some expensive salmon for being such a good girl.”

As if she understood your words, Persilla dropped to the floor and purred, rubbing her furry body against your ankle. You gave the room one last look, as if expecting to find something else worth surveying, but ultimately decided you were way too tired from your all-nighter to continue on. 

-

-

-

At this point in his life, Jungkook could say with certainty that he was a pretty patient man. He wasn’t born with the trait, if anything impatience seemed to have been stitched well into his personality the second he’d entered this world. But, over time, he’d learned to get rid of the pesky trait and replace it with the much more effective and fruitful quality that was patience. 

Yet, not even all those years of cultivating the characteristic could have prepared him for how late Kim Taehyung was. 

Jungkook had been standing at the West docks, hands in the pockets of his long, black coat, since 8:00 AM in the morning, waiting almost 4 hours for his friend with furrowed brows and an unimpressed frown. He’d left the house as early as appropriately possible, partly because of your presence and partly because of the urgency in addressing the dock’s issue. Now it was almost noon and Taehyung, who’d promised to be here by 9:00 AM was still nowhere in sight. 

An annoyed sigh escaped his lips as he felt the ocean air breeze through the nearly black strands of his hair. Taehyung being late had given him more time to think about earlier this morning, when he’d shot you a glance before he was out the front door. You looked like you hadn’t slept a wink, which Jungkook could relate to, but he supposed that was for the best. You’d threatened to kill him at the end of your conversation last night, so having you sleep deprived would probably work in his favour. 

Not that you could really do anything anyway. Jungkook had made sure to set guards in every entrance to the kitchen and stripped the house of every weapon that wasn’t locked in a hefty safe. There was no way you could get your hands on any kind of gun or knife, so he was pretty confident that you couldn’t be a threat to him at the moment. Though, the memory of your fiery eyes from last night had seemed so determined…

“What are you smirking about?” Taehyung asked as he strolled along the boardwalk, making his way towards the younger man. 

Jungkook’s scowl instantly returned, causing Taehyung to raise his hands in surrender, “it took Chaewon and I a whole hour to get Suho to bed, who’s also sick by the way. Cut me some slack, man.”

“I told you guys to stay over at my place and not some hotel,” Jungkook chastised, feeling bad for the little guy. He made a note to send some sweets to their hotel room when he got back, “the maid could have helped you guys out.”

“The newlyweds deserve to have the house to themselves,” Taehyung waved him off before he smirked, “besides, I didn’t know how freaky you guys were going to get and I couldn’t risk Suho hearing, he’s way too young for that stuff.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes, motioning for Taehyung to start following him. They started walking along the boardwalk, Jungkook’s hands still shoved into his coat’s pockets while Taehyung’s were covered in black leather gloves. 

“Okay,” Taehyung said, “I’m just going to ask one question, and then we’ll drop it and you can explain this whole dock’s situation to me.”

That earned him a raised brow, but the lack of the younger’s refusal spurred him on. 

“What do you think of her?”

Jungkook didn’t answer for a moment, mulling over his reply before he finally answered. 

“She’s fine.”

He didn’t know why he wasn’t telling Taehyung the truth about you, about how your entire ditzy personality was a front and about how hellbent you were on killing him to get a divorce. Maybe it was because he didn’t really see the need to. Jungkook had concluded that you were only trying to kill him because you wanted a divorce, allowing you to go back to whichever boyfriend was waiting for you back in the south. 

“Your words are saying she’s fine, but your face is saying you’re mad,” Taehyung noted with a brow raised. But Jungkook waved him off, ready to end this conversation and get onto more important business. 

“Anyways, as you know, the Parks decided to attack the West docks last week,” Jungkook began, pointing towards his left to show Taehyung the damage sustained. One of the enormous warehouses, which collectively formed a neat line leading farther than his eye could decipher, had caved into itself, its walls charred almost entirely. The two warehouses by its side seemed more salvageable, with only a wall or two affected by the evident fire that had taken place. Construction workers could already be seen surrounding the area, hard at work to replace the damaged structures. 

Taehyung nodded as he took in the scene, “an attack at the docks… they’re checking to see how strong the Jeons are at the moment.”

“They’re doing it because they want to know if they can take over our territory.”

That was the standard protocol after all. When a mafia attacks another mafia’s docks, it’s usually because they want to test how weak or strong they are and whether they can take them over or not. The fact that the Parks pulled something like this right after their alliance with the Mins was no coincidence to Jungkook. 

But to his surprise, Taehyung paused, as if mulling over Jungkook’s words. He watched Taehyung’s gaze drift over to the vast sea on their right, a contemplative look shadowing over his eyes before they flickered back to Jungkook. 

“Is that really what you think Jimin is doing?” 

“What do you mean?” Jungkook frowned, “this is the textbook procedure for taking over another territory.”

When Taehyung didn’t answer him, Jungkook placed a hand in front of his chest, blocking his path so the two could stand facing each other as they spoke.

“I’m just saying,” Taehyung finally explained, “it seems a bit out of character for him. Wasn’t he always the one that was going on about how dumb it is to want to take over other territories instead of cultivating your own?”

Jungkook scoffed, “yeah, in university, which was years ago. Jimin has changed since then.”

Taehyung’s lips formed a grim line at the animosity in his voice. 

“Look, I know you both-”

“No,” Jungkook cut him off quickly, knowing exactly where this conversation was going, “this isn’t the hatred from what happened years ago talking. Jimin has changed, and I have the evidence to prove it.”

Jungkook turned around to resume his earlier path, Taehyung walking slowly behind him as they passed by the workers sighing in relief at the cool breeze of the ocean and large ships anchored alongside the piers. In a matter of minutes, Jungkook had led him to the entrance of an enormous warehouse. Taehyung’s brows furrowed when Jungkook turned around to face him, a grim expression washing over his strong features. 

“When the Parks attacked the docks last week, I managed to prevent them from seizing control of it by bringing out some old blackmail. Obviously I didn’t think it would hold them off for long if their plan really is to take over my territory, but I didn’t expect them to retaliate so soon,” Jungkook explained, “nor did I expect them to retaliate in this way.”

He turned back to face the warehouse's door, hand wrapping around its handle, “the night before my wedding, I was called to the docks because some of the worker’s had found something in this warehouse.”

Then he turned the handle and pushed the door wide open, revealing its inside.

“This is what I found.”

It was awful. 

The entire warehouse was full of dead bodies, some thrown haphazardly on the ground while others were thrown over the equipment spanning the room. Taehyung could make out bodies of men, women, and even some children -he couldn’t look at them for too long without thinking of his own son- all of which had clearly been killed in varying ways. Some looked like they had been burned, while others looked like they’d been thrown into a blender. Being in the mafia, Taehyung was no stranger to blood and gore, but this… this was too much, even for him. 

But then his gaze caught onto a wall in the far corner of the warehouse, particularly the sight of dried blood smeared against the grey metal. He took in each stroke of red, processing each letter it had been made to resemble until he could read what had been written. 

“‘We’re coming,’” Jungkook read out loud, keeping his stoic gaze fixed on Taehyung. 

He shook his head, unable to comprehend what he was seeing, “I knew Yoongi was brutal, but I never could have expected he’d be capable of… this.”

Jungkook’s gaze drifted around the room, grimacing at the scene before him. 

“Jimin and Yoongi clearly aren’t who they used to be,” he concluded, looking towards Taehyung for confirmation. Thankfully, Taehyung nodded this time, gaze becoming hard as he agreed without protest. 

“Well, they’ve warned us that they’re coming,” he said, gesturing towards the bloody message, “what are we going to do about it?”

Jungkook motioned for Taehyung to follow him back outside, where the air didn’t smell like death and the sights didn’t make him want to crawl out of his skin. 

“I’ve scheduled a meeting with one of the unaffiliated gangs located in the West in about an hour. As long as we pay them well, they’ll do just about anything for us. Having extra manpower should tip the odds in our favour. Not to mention, I’ll make good use of the Lees.”

Taehyung nodded as he watched Jungkook close the door of the warehouse, “are you going to contact Jimin first?”

“No,” he shook his head, beginning to walk back to the parking lot alongside Taehyung, “I’ve had a headcount done and it doesn’t seem like any of the people in the warehouse were one of ours. I think the Parks were just trying to send a message to scare us.”

“I’ll get a headcount done for my people too just in case,” Taehyung said, to which Jungkook agreed. 

Once they had made it back to the parking lot, Taehyung turned to face him.

“I was thinking of heading back to my territory tonight, since I have a few things I need to take care of,” he explained, opening the door of his bright orange car before leaning against it casually, “but Chaewon wanted to have a late lunch or dinner with the bride and groom before we left. I hope you don’t mind.”

Jungkook’s interest piqued as a thought suddenly came to mind. This would be a good opportunity to assess how you and him were going to act like a couple in front of others. If the two of you failed, it would be fine since it was just Taehyung and Chaewon, two people that he trusted with his life. Then you and him could learn from the experience and hopefully get it together before having to make any public appearances. 

“Does 6 work?” He asked, to which Taehyung nodded. 

The two then exchanged quick goodbyes, Taehyung explaining that he should probably get back as soon as possible to get things in order, before Jungkook watched as he got into his car and drove off, standing for a few minutes until someone came to stand behind him. 

“Sir?”

He turned to find a man bowing in his direction, waiting for permission to speak. Jungkook motioned for him to go on, already getting an idea of what this was about. 

“Our informant within the Lees just contacted us,” he explained, “he said that Lee Y/N’s father believes his daughter to be a frivolous and naive girl, her sole purpose being to marry someone that will benefit the Lees.”

Jungkook nodded at the news. So you had been telling the truth when you said that you’d fooled everyone, including your father, with your performance… Distantly he wondered why you would decide to resort to such an act. 

“Have there been any talks of betraying this alliance?” Jungkook asked, to which the man shook his head. 

“The informant said there were none. Lee Y/N’s father seems dependent on this alliance to protect himself from neighbouring mafias. The South is quite unsettled in that aspect.”

“I see, and have there been any talks of Y/N having some sort of significant other in the Lee territory?”

The man seemed to hesitate for a moment, “the informant said that there weren’t really any talks of that… but he did mention that before your marriage, when Lee Y/N was still living in the Lee territory, he’d accidentally overheard a hushed phone conversation she’d had in her bedroom. He couldn’t make out what they had been talking about, but he was able to confirm that the voice on the other line was male. The informant hadn’t thought anything of it at the time, but since you’re asking now, he decided it would be safer to let you know just in case.”

It could have been anyone, hell, you could have been talking to a relative or something, but Jungkook’s mind went straight to his initial theory. It made sense, especially considering you wanted a divorce so badly. He couldn’t really think of any other reason besides your heart already belonging to someone else… even though you were his wife. 

“Sir? Was there anything else?” The man asked, causing Jungkook to reel in his scowl.

“Contact Lee Y/N’s father and schedule a meeting with him as soon as he can,” Jungkook said, “that’s all, thank you.”

The man bowed, instantly scurrying away from sight to get to the assigned task, while Jungkook turned to start making his way to his car. 

For some reason, his mood had suddenly soured. 

-

-

-

“So we finally get to meet the famous Y/N.”

You smiled shyly as you walked into the grand dining hall, automatically taking in the spiralling chandelier, marble floor, and dark brown dining table filled with formal decoration pieces. Only after this assessment did you let your gaze fall on the two sitting on the dining chairs; the first one you already knew to be Taehyung, who was dressed in a rich grey suit, while the other was a woman -you automatically assumed she was Taehyung’s wife considering the maid had told you you’d be dining with the two today. 

She had been the one that had spoken, but the first thing you noticed when your eyes landed on her was that she was gorgeous. Her straight, long black hair and hazel eyes sparkled under the glittering light of the chandelier overhead, while her dark maroon dress fit elegantly into the rich ambience of the room.

As she stood from her seat, you felt yourself automatically tense. Back in the South, the wives of mafia leaders were always vicious and constantly at each other's throats, a reflection of their husbands’ animosity towards each other. Now that you were married, you supposed you’d have to be subjected to the same, but the only difference was that your ditzy facade would bar you from being able to fight back. Whatever Taehyung’s wife threw at you, you’d have to take it. 

But after she made her way towards you, her actions as smooth as silk, you were surprised when she pulled you in for a quick and formal embrace. 

“The wedding was absolutely beautiful,” she praised, even the flow of her voice silk-like, “and of course your dress, it was exquisite! You must tell me the designer you went with- or perhaps it was all just your figure. I wouldn’t be surprised if that were the case.”

For a moment all you could do was stare at her; this woman… she was being so… nice. Too nice, if you were being honest. It was a little unnerving, instantly making you sceptical of her intentions. Perhaps the wives of northern mafia leaders were more cunning in the way they sniped at each other? They greeted each other politely during occasions, but behind the scenes they would attack each other to obtain what they wanted? But then again, what could anyone possibly want from you? To them you were just some featherbrained girl that dressed like a fancy pastel tablecloth. 

You’d decided to still dress the part this evening, with a fluffy light pink dress that fell right at your knees and a matching silk ribbon tied into a bow pulling up half your hair, even if you didn’t know for sure how much Jungkook would have revealed to Taehyung. You had the feeling that Jungkook wouldn’t tell him anything, since it would work in his favour having the least amount of people knowing, but you’ve also heard how close the two men were so it wouldn’t entirely surprise you if he had.

Taehyung certainly was staring at you like he knew your secret. Unlike his wife, he stayed seated at the dining table, offering you a polite greeting from there instead, but you could recognise the calculating nature of his gaze as clear as day. He was assessing your every movement as you interacted with his wife, which made you straighten up. It wouldn’t be the biggest deal if he did know, because who would believe him if he went around spreading that kind of news, but if he didn’t, then you would have to up the quality of your act. 

“Has Jungkook told you anything about us?” Taehyung’s wife asked as she took the seat next to her husband once again, while you decided to take the seat across from her, “ah- who am I kidding? You’ve only been here a night. I’m Chaewon and this is Taehyung, he’s the leader of the Kims.”

You nodded, making sure to keep your voice light and airy, “you’re pretty.”

She tried to hide it well, but the comment had Chaewon’s eyes flickering to her husband for a moment. It was better that you started dropping a dumb comment here and there to really seal the ‘dumb as rocks’ trait. 

Chaewon quickly recovered from the surprise, letting out a breathy chuckle, “you’re sweet, but you’re so pretty yourself. I love the light sparkles you’ve added to your lids, it’s such a subtle but dainty thing.”

Her tone was so formal that you couldn’t tell if she was passively mocking you or not. You would’ve preferred she just pull a gun on you or something; it would be way less confusing than sitting here and trying to read between the lines of her words. Confrontational individuals were dangerous, but individuals who planned their strikes in the shadows were the real threats. You’d know that best.

At that moment, before you could reply with an even dumber comment, the sound of the door opening caught everyone’s attention. You turned just to catch Jungkook closing the door behind him, his hair slightly damp, likely from a shower, and dressed in a simple black collar shirt tucked into matching black dress pants. He paused at the doorway, scanning the room for a moment until his eyes dropped on you.

Your brows furrowed when he held your gaze for a second longer than normal, a hidden question in your expression. He looked almost thoughtful, an idea clearly waltzing through his mind, before he finally started making his way towards the three of you. 

You thought that was the end of the odd moment, and that Jungkook would finally initiate a conversation with the other two sitting at the table as he pulled out the chair next to you. But just as he was about to settle into the soft cushion, he stalled for a second, turned to face you…

And then placed a quick peck on your cheek.

You froze, shock making your limbs rigid as you used every bit of your self control to stop yourself from instinctively flinching at the action. 

“Sorry I’m late,” Jungkook apologised as he casually plopped down into his seat, gaze fixing on the couple before you. 

But Chaewon smiled, a graceful hand going to her chest. 

“Aww look at how flustered she looks, aren’t they just adorable, Taehyung?” She said with a smile. Your hands instantly went to your cheeks, annoyed to find them burning underneath your palms. 

Before you could think much of it though, the servers started spilling into the room to place steaming plates of food before you all. This evening’s menu seemed to be seafood themed, with plates of crab, lobster, and shrimp filling the initially empty surface of the dark dining table. It made sense to you, considering almost half of Jungkook’s territory bordered the ocean. 

Once the plates had been placed, a server stepped beside you, bringing out a bottle of red wine to pour into the empty glass beside your plate. But you brought up a hand to stop him. 

“Not a fan of wine, Y/N?” Chaewon asked as she noticed the gesture, and once again the ambiguity in her formal tone made it hard to tell whether she was mocking you or not. 

You shook her head in response, “I don’t like alcohol, it tastes gross.”

Yes, ditzy Y/N didn’t like alcohol, but the real Y/N was seriously craving that expensive whiskey you knew Jungkook had stashed in his office at this very moment. He clearly had good taste, it was a shame you’d had to drop a gram of lethal toxin into the bottle before you’d left the room and passed out on Jungkook’s bed for nearly two hours. You scowled inwardly as you remembered how much more you could have slept had it not been for the maid who had woken you up to give you a tour of the house and then helped you get ready for the early dinner you and Jungkook were supposed to have with Taehyung and Chaewon. 

“I apologise ma’am, is there anything else I can interest you in instead?” The server asked, moving the bottle of wine away from your glass. You mused over your answer for a moment, before you smiled up at him.

“I’d like some banana milk, please.”

Once again, Chaewon subtly threw an unreadable look towards Taehyung, but this time she wasn’t alone as Taehyung and Jungkook each threw their own odd looks in your direction at the wildly childish choice. Back when you first started acting naive your reaction would have consisted of an intense feeling of embarrassment washing over you, but now the others’ reactions only seemed to amuse you. Although, you were inwardly groaning at how gross having seafood alongside milk was going to be. But the show had to go on, didn’t it?

Taehyung cleared his throat when the server returned with a wine glass filled with banana milk -you had to pinch your arm to stop yourself from laughing at that- before he turned to face Jungkook, eager to break the awkward silence that had ensued. 

“I hope you both enjoyed your wedding present, Chaewon spent so long on making that gift basket I thought it was going to be for your one year anniversary,” he joked, causing Chaewon to playfully slap his shoulder. 

“I just wanted it to be nice,” she defended instantly, “we’ve known Jungkook for years, seeing him get married makes me feel like a proud older sister.”

It was such a contrasting sight seeing two mafia families be so fond and at ease with each other when you’d grown up seeing the southern mafia families at each other’s throats constantly. Chaewon seemed so comfortable here, and even though Taehyung was mostly quiet -you were starting to think he was trying to decipher the relationship between you and Jungkook with the way he kept staring back and forth between you two- even he didn’t seem to be guarded despite being in another mafia leader’s territory. 

“We enjoyed the basket, thank you,” Jungkook said, bringing your focus back to the conversation. You watched him lean back in his seat as his gaze drifted to you, the ghost of an amused look haunting his features, “the champagne particularly was quite the ice breaker.”

You’d tried to kill him using that bottle and yet here he was practically mocking you about it not even 24 hours later. You threw him a sweet smile, as if you were reliving a fond memory, hoping he would pick up on the hidden glare in your gaze. But that only made his grin widen. 

“I’m glad to hear that,” Chaewon clapped, not seeming to pick up on the tension between you both, “I wasn’t aware of your distaste for alcohol though, Y/N. I’ll be sure to keep that in mind in the future.”

You faced her with what you hoped was a grateful smile, “it’s okay, I really liked the scented candles.”

It had actually been Persilla that had been obsessed with them, the vanilla scented one seeming to be her favourite. 

The dining room was mostly quiet following that, the four of you finishing up your food in a comfortable silence. Inwardly you were gagging at the combination of shrimp and banana milk you’d decided to torment yourself with. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, every few minutes or so you’d catch Jungkook trying to suppress a sly grin, the man being the only one in the room, to your knowledge at least, who knew the reality of your predicament. You scowled, annoyed by his satisfaction until an idea came to mind. 

Well, you could always hit two birds with one stone. 

You reached over your plate to grab your glass of banana milk, bringing it towards yourself to give the impression that you were going to drink from it. But at the last moment, you let the bottom of the glass catch on your plate, causing the entire thing to tip from your fingers. It clattered onto the table, splashing all over Jungkook’s plate and seated form, making him flinch. 

You instantly gasped dramatically, hands going to cover your mouth and eyes widening as you squeaked, “I’m so sorry!”

With Taehyung and Chaewon’s focus shifting to the spill on the table, the roll of Jungkook’s eyes went unnoticed by them. 

“It’s okay, it was only an accident,” he forced out, pushing his chair away from the table’s edge and widening his thighs to evade the rest of the milk. You had to hide your smile behind your hands as you watched the no doubt cold milk seep into his pants. 

Taehyung picked up the box of napkins, which had been near his plate, and held it out to the younger man, causing Jungkook to stretch over the table to receive it. But just as Jungkook grabbed the box, you noticed Taehyung’s brows suddenly furrow, his eyes seeming to stay fixed at a particular spot on Jungkook’s neck. 

You followed his gaze curiously. The first few buttons of Jungkook’s black shirt had been undone, revealing a sliver of his collarbone and chest, but as Jungkook stretched you noticed the fabric shift to expose more of the area, which you realised was covered in red patches that looked a lot like… hickies. You and Taehyung weren’t the only ones that caught this as you noticed Chaewon smirk, her gaze travelling between you both. 

Jungkook himself was the last to notice the stares as he pressed some tissues against the wet material of his pants, most of which was prominent on his lap. Yet when he did notice them, even you knew that Taehyung and Chaewon’s questioning looks wouldn’t allow for him to get out of this without an explanation. 

You expected him to wave them off with a lame excuse anyway, like it was a rash or he’d burned himself somehow. You could call Jungkook many things, but he didn’t seem like the kind of guy that enjoyed making suggestive jokes or conversation. Nor did he seem like the kind of guy to divulge in his sexual escapades. 

But Jungkook didn’t do any of that. Instead he paused, similar to earlier when he had entered the room, and seemed to think something over. Then his gaze dropped on you, and the mischief in his eyes gave you the odd feeling that you should prepare yourself for what he was about to say. 

You should have listened to that feeling. 

Jungkook broke his eye contact with you, his lips twitching into what suspiciously seemed like a smirk, before he turned to face Taehyung and Chaewon. 

“I guess Y/N got a bit carried away earlier.”

Your eyes widened and jaw dropped open as Chaewon gasped, her hands instantly going to her chest as if she couldn’t believe it. From your peripheral vision you could make out Taehyung slumping against the back of his chair, as if he had finally given up on trying to figure the two of you out. 

“Y/N! I would have never guessed you were the freaky type,” Chaewon laughed, her gaze seeming to take you in a different light. Your hands curled into fists under the table. 

Jungkook knew exactly what he was doing by dropping a comment like that, and you were far from stupid enough not to see it. By insinuating that there was a more suggestive side of you, he was slowly starting to break down your performance of an innocent girl capable of doing no wrong in the eyes of others. 

You’d promised to kill him, and now he’d seemingly decided he wanted to kill the image you’d spent years cultivating. 

You took a deep breath to calm yourself as Jungkook’s hand hooked under your chair to drag it towards him, allowing him to wrap an arm around your shoulder when he was close enough. Even in the midst of your subdued anger you noticed just how close the sharp cut of his jawline was in this position, and not to mention the tiny mole under his bottom lip that you hadn’t noticed before. 

“It’s okay, princess,” he said, sounding sweet but you knew it was meant to be mocking, “you don’t have to be shy in front of them.”

You were going to kill him. You were going to shoot him so many times that by the time you were done with him he was going to look like a giant block of swiss cheese-

“Well, we should probably get going,” Taehyung said suddenly, his eyes focused on reading something on his phone before pocketing the device, “I think Suho is starting to get fussy again, plus we should get going if we want to get back home before it gets too dark.”

Taehyung offered a hand to Chaewon to help her get up from her seat, a classy smile gracing her lips as her gaze met yours, “that’s our son by the way. You must meet him the next time we meet.”

“I would love to. I love children,” you said with a tight smile as you and Jungkook got up from your seats, exchanging polite pleasantries all the way to the front door.

“You know, that’s not very surprising to me,” Chaewon commented while Taehyung looped an arm around hers. You waved to each other with smiles, watching him guide her into an orange car before driving around the fountain and disappearing through the tall gates. 

The second the front door closed your smile dropped, replaced by an annoyed scowl that you threw in Jungkook’s direction. He regarded you as you crossed your arms over your chest.

“I don’t know about the North, but in the South we have this thing called personal space. You should try it out some time,” you said, to which Jungkook raised an eyebrow.

“Have you ever seen a married couple have personal space? Really Y/N, must I explain the birds and the bees to you?

You huffed as he walked past you, climbing up the stairs casually while you started following behind him. 

“Why does it even matter if people know how dysfunctional this marriage is? We’re married, how is that not enough?”

It really did not make sense to you why he was so dead set on selling this image of a perfect marriage to others. Back in the South, there was not one marriage a mafia leader was a part of where it wasn’t in complete shambles, and that was very public knowledge to everyone in, and even outside of, the territory. Yet, that didn’t seem to affect the level of control or power the southern mafia leaders had. So why was Jungkook making it out to be such a big deal?

But the question stopped him in his tracks, causing him to turn around on the stairs to give you an incredulous look, as if what you had asked was almost alien. 

“I don’t know how it works in the South, but in the North it very much matters,” he said slowly, gaze fixed on yours, “we must present ourselves as perfect in every aspect of our lives, or there are a number of enemies that would have no problem taking advantage of even the most miniscule flaw.”

You scoffed, “that’s dumb.”

Jungkook turned away from you, not bothering to comment on the mindless remark, as he continued to resume his path up the stairs. When he finally made it to the top and walked up to his bedroom’s door, he pushed it open and walked inside. 

Your breath instantly stalled as you followed behind him, gaze darting around the room quickly to see if Persilla was anywhere in his sights. You knew you didn’t need to worry, Persilla was a master of remaining unseen, she’d managed to hide from everyone in the house when you’d been living in the South with your father after all. You’d even opened the door to the balcony slightly, allowing her to roam outside freely if she wanted to, so she might not have even been in the room anyway. You exhaled slowly, successful in convincing yourself that the little black cat you’d grown to care for and love would be fine. 

Jungkook’s breath, on the other hand, came out as a low huff when he noticed the balcony door ajar. He walked over to it quickly, closing it before giving you a chastising look. One you ignored obviously. 

Instead you casually turned away from him to enter into the bathroom, grabbing a few makeup wipes before returning back into the bedroom and plopping yourself down on the fluffy duvet of the bed. You began wiping off the various light sparkles and pinks that softened your face, as if you were taking off a doll-like mask. 

“You’re an annoying little thing, aren’t you?” He commented as he watched your nonchalant demeanour. 

Then it was your turn to watch him disappear into his closet for a moment, the muffled sounds of clothes moving around reaching your ears, before he emerged in a pair of grey sweatpants and a black short sleeve t-shirt. 

But you particularly noticed his right arm, which was covered in a full sleeve of tattoos ending just above his wrist. The ink travelled over the smooth ridges of his skin, taut from the firm muscles underneath. Your gaze immediately dropped to the small trash can next to the bedside table, hoping he didn’t notice your staring, as you focused on throwing the used wipes into the bin. 

You then leaned back on the mattress, arms holding you upright, trying to get your focus back on track, “I like how forgetting to close the balcony door annoys you and not the fact that I want you dead.”

That made Jungkook smile, amusement clear in his eyes, “I’m still standing here though, aren’t I?”

Your reply was quick.

“It won’t be for long.”

“Right,” Jungkook nodded, his words laced into a patronising chuckle, “but while you’re working on that, I need you to actually act like my wife. We’re lucky Taehyung and Chaewon didn’t notice anything, the public won’t be so inattentive.”

You tilted your head, “yes, I wonder what the public would have said about the hickies on your neck.”

Jungkook mirrored your movements, the edges of his lips twitching.

“I think they would be glad to be under the impression that we’re hard at work trying to produce an heir.”

“That’s only if your side piece stays quiet.” 

“Careful, Y/N,” Jungkook tutted, “you sound almost jealous.”

“Jealous?” You repeated incredulously, sitting up straighter with an evidently offended expression, “your girl is sleeping with a dead man walking. Is that something to be jealous of?”

Jungkook paused for a moment, continuing to direct an amused gaze in your direction, before he turned away, a breathy chuckle escaping his lips as he ran a hand through his hair, “relax, princess, there’s no other girl. I just went hunting earlier and got a few mosquito bites. Nothing more.”

“It doesn’t make a difference to me,” you shrugged before falling back onto the mattress, the softness of the duvet making your limbs feel heavy with exhaustion. The position caused your dress to ride up to the middle of your thighs, a movement that didn’t go unnoticed by Jungkook. He looked away when he realised he was staring, choosing instead to focus his gaze on the bright moon outside the window. 

“We may be as far from in love with each other as the moon is to the earth, but I still won’t risk messing around with others outside this relationship,” he said. There was a pause after his words, as if he were expecting you to say something, but you let the silence ensue. There really was nothing you wanted to add anyway. 

A noise made you lift your head, allowing you to see Jungkook unlocking the door to his office before he turned his head to you, “just get used to whatever happened at dinner today. There will be much more where that came from in the future.”

And then he was gone, disappearing into the room while locking the door behind him. Jungkook immediately walked over to the cabinet, pulling out a crystal glass and a bottle of whiskey to place them on the desk.

The loud clink of the glass against the wood of the desk made Jungkook frown, annoyed by his getting annoyed at your lack of reply. Yet, it was evident that he was indeed irritated by it. Of course you wouldn’t agree not to mess around with others, you had your ‘boyfriend’ waiting for you back in the South. 

He certainly wasn’t messing around with anyone. After meeting Taehyung at the docks, Jungkook had gone to meet with the leader of an independent gang in the West, who, to his distaste, was a huge fan of hunting. So naturally they’d met in a forest to hunt for a few hours, before Jungkook had convinced the man to be at his disposal. Jungkook has always been prone to mosquito bites, but that day the mosquitos seemed to have taken a particular liking to his neck and arms, despite what Taehyung and Chaewon might have thought. 

It didn’t matter to him, though, that you had a boyfriend. Yes, it really didn’t. He was just annoyed because if someone found out about him, then Jungkook’s reputation would take a hit. The news would spread like a wildfire, and the outcome would be far from good. 

He didn’t even know how well you could hide a secret like that. What if you slipped up somewhere? What if the dude did? It would be a disaster. 

Jungkook placed his glass down, the whiskey momentarily forgotten as he grabbed his phone and leaned back in his chair, staring at the screen in thought. This was for the good of his leadership, not anything personal. Yes, that’s right. 

Mind made, Jungkook quickly dialled a familiar number, waiting barely a single ring before a male voice sounded from the device. 

“Hello sir, was there something I could help you with?”

Jungkook’s fingers wrapped around the glass on his desk, “tell the informant I want him to investigate Lee Y/N’s room at the Lee mansion. I want to find out everything we can about the man Y/N was talking on the phone with before our marriage, and if there’s anything else unusual I want to be informed of it as well.”

“Yes, of course sir,” the voice said immediately, “I’ll let him know as soon as possible. Is that all?”

Jungkook paused for a moment, thinking over the question. This had been an impromptu call after all.

Stuck in his thoughts, he brought the glass into his hand, swirling the liquid in it for a second before taking a modest sip.

His reflexes acted before his mind did; the second he registered the hint of a metallic taste he lurched forward, spitting the liquid back into the glass in a matter of a second. Even with that little exposure he could start to feel his tongue burn slightly, causing him to instantly open the drawer of his desk and grab a water bottle. The water soothed his mouth as he quickly swished it between his teeth before spitting it out and repeating the process a few times.

“Sir? Sir?! Is everything okay?” The voice rang from his phone, Jungkook almost forgetting about him for a second. He cleared his throat.

“Yes, it was nothing. That will be all, thank you.”

He ended the call, grimacing in discomfort at the feel of his slightly sensitive tongue against the roof of his mouth. So you’d managed to find a way to sneak into his office. He shouldn’t have been very surprised by that, you seemed to have a talent for getting into places where you shouldn’t. 

Jungkook sighed as he eyed his liquor cabinet, realising that he’d have to throw it all. But as his gaze raised, it seemed to catch an empty slot in his bookshelf. Curiously he walked over to it, hand hovering over the hollow space between a book about war tactics and a book about his family’s history. 

It wasn’t hard to put two and two together. You’d obviously taken one of his books, but whether it was for casual reading or for something more he couldn’t tell. 

He ignored the pang of pain that rippled throughout his mouth as he ran his tongue over the back of his teeth, his gaze falling back to his desk. With Jimin’s attacks, he had a lot of work he was going to have to do, and now seemed like the perfect time to get that done considering he was not going to go back into his bedroom, which you had taken over. 

He sighed. 

It was going to be a long night. 

-

-

-

You remained seated on the bed as you watched Jungkook lock the door behind him, leaving you alone in his bedroom once again. You hoped he enjoyed the nice present you’d dropped into his liquor bottles this morning, because you were just about ready to be shipped off back to the Lee mansion and watch your plan unfold in the perfect way you’d outlined it to. 

The sound of something tapping against glass caught your attention, causing you to turn towards the balcony. It was hard to spot her in the dead of night, her black fur blending into the dark so well that her feline eyes were the only thing about her you could really make out. But even then, there was no doubt in your mind that it was Persilla trying to get your attention from outside of the balcony door. 

You stood, sending a wary glance in the direction of Jungkook’s office’s door, before slowly pushing yourself off the mattress and making your way towards the glass. You paused in front of it for a moment, taking a deep breath before closing your eyes. Your hands blindly felt in front of you, moving erratically in the air for a moment before you could feel the handle between your fingers. You pulled on it, hearing the sound of the door opening as well as the feel of the fresh airy breeze on your face.

The second you felt Persilla’s small body walking between your feet, you pushed the door close, sighing in relief when you opened your eyes. 

You crouched down to pet Persilla’s head, scratching against her chin when she purred delightfully. It was only when she moved her head upwards, showcasing her collar, when you paused, your gaze catching onto something white wedged between the sleek leather and her furry neck. 

“Do you have something for me, Persilla?” You asked, fingers pinching the thing, which you realised was a folded note, and bringing it out of its confines. You unfolded it, eyes widening after scanning it and recognising the familiar strokes of black pen on its surface.

It’s done.

We should meet soon.

~ H

A/N: comments, reblogs, and likes are appreciated! Also Jungkook when he finds out about Persilla: 🧍‍♂️

Fool's Gold || Part II

Summary: Sweet Y/N, with her fluffy pastel dresses, soft makeup, and ditzy mannerisms. She’s seen as a fool in a world where there is no place for such things, but little do they know, the only fools are them.

Pairing: mafia leader!Jungkook x mafia leader's daughter!reader

Genre: mafia au, arranged marriage au

Word Count: 10.2k

Warnings: most warnings associated with mafia fics (e.g. gun/physical violence, blood, dead bodies, etc), very vague indication of past sexual assault, additional warnings might be added as the story progresses

A/N: thank you guys so much for all the love you gave the first part, it means so much to me 🥺 Hope you enjoy this chapter too (Y/N and Jungkook bicker for like half of it 💀)

<< previous part || Masterlist || next part >>

It was supposed to be simple. 

You kill Jungkook, breaking up the alliance between the Lees and the Jeons, blame his murder on a rival mafia, and then be on your merry way back to your father’s home before you could be caught up in the chaos you’d have started. Sure it hadn’t been the most complex of plans you’ve come up with, you hardly had the time to map out a plan like that anyway, but sometimes simple was all one needed. 

Unfortunately, this had clearly not been one of those times. 

The problem was Jungkook. Your first husband had been an idiot and completely fooled by your featherbrained facade, so much so that even after you’d stolen the gun from his waistband and shot him twice in the chest he’d stared at you like you’d grown two heads. He just couldn’t comprehend the fact that a seemingly frivolous girl could have the courage to pull the trigger. Even after what he’d tried to do to you. After he almost-

You felt a shudder sweep across your spine.

But Jungkook was different. He had been assessing you the second you appeared before him during the wedding ceremony and, even though he had seemed to take in your carefully crafted performance, his gaze still refused to complete its assessment. At first you thought it was just lust -most men in the mafia couldn’t seem to be rid of that tenacious emotion- however, the lack of sexual initiation on his part despite being alone together in his room made you realise that perhaps Jungkook was a lot less like the mafia leaders you had grown up with than you realised. 

For one, he was scarily observant, and it was this skill that had ultimately led to the downfall of your assassination attempt. 

A huff escaped your lips at the thought, your hands continuing to expertly manoeuvre two pins inside the lock of the door you were currently crouched in front of. You had stayed sat on Jungkook’s bed the entire night, too wary to even attempt sleeping in the bedroom that was entirely unfamiliar to you. You half expected Jungkook to sneak into the room while you were out cold and enact a fitting revenge; you’d be unable to even blame him, you’d tried to kill the man after all. But Jungkook hadn’t left the mystery room all night, only emerging once the clock had struck 7 in the morning to wordlessly grab a black coat from the top of his dresser and disappear behind the front door with nothing but a single, hasty glance in your direction. 

Your brow had raised as you watched him get into his black car and drive off through the window, wondering how he could just leave you unattended in his home after the threat you had dropped near the end of your conversation earlier. Sure he probably had people monitoring his house at all times, but there was still a lot you could get done in front of people that wouldn’t suspect the girl with fluffy dresses and doe eyes to be much of a threat. 

Luckily for him though, you were beyond tired, and that meant that his absence was just a window of opportunity to get some actual rest without the constant fear of his retaliation keeping you awake. So following a long yawn, you had naturally felt yourself drift towards the bed, eyeing the soft duvet and fluffy pillows sleepily. But then, before you could lose yourself to the comfort of his mattress, your curious gaze had slowly wandered to the door Jungkook had disappeared behind last night and, next thing you knew, you were crouched in front of its gold lock and jabbing two pins into its keyhole. 

Your focus snapped back to the door before you as a familiar click sounded from the lock, causing it to swing open just a few centimetres. You pocketed the two pins, muttering a small “finally...” while your fingers wrapped around the gold handle. But before you could push it open, the muffled sound of an object dropping suddenly startled you. You whirled around, eyes immediately scanning the bedroom with intense precision as your hand grabbed the closest thing to you: a vase. Had someone managed to get into the room without you knowing? Perhaps you weren’t as observant as Jungkook seemed to be, but you’ve never been so absentminded that you could’ve been this caught off guard-

“Oh my god,” you gasped abruptly, a recollection surfacing as you quickly placed the vase back on the bedside table and scurried over to the closet. You couldn’t believe you had forgotten something so important… She must have been waiting in there the entire night.

You hastily threw open the closet door, gaze scanning the space until it finally fell on a small shadow peeking from behind the white and fawn island. The black shadow stood still for a moment, as if identifying the intruder, before the familiar cat sauntered out of the small space, black fur gleaming under the light. She looked up at you with an expression that eerily resembled a scowl. 

“Hi Persilla,” you cooed, crouching down to run a hand apologetically through the creature’s fur. Persilla evaded it at first, almost punishing you for forgetting her in the small, dark walk-in closet for the entire night, but eventually she gave in, purring as she brushed her soft tail against your still bare legs. While you could understand being stuck in a place like that for hours might’ve been slightly uncomfortable, she really had no right to act like that after how damn hard it had been to have her smuggled into Jungkook’s house without alerting anyone. It had been a huge risk, one that you might have a little trouble justifying, but you swear there was just something calming about her presence and you needed that desperately, especially in such a foreign place. 

“I failed to kill him,” you frowned, watching as Persilla’s feline eyes raised to watch you, “which means we’re going to have to stay here a little longer than I thought.”

You pulled yourself from the floor, shifting your focus back to Jungkook’s mystery room as you felt a pang of irritation hit you. You needed Jungkook dead, the delay in his death getting in the way of everything you’ve been working towards. Yet here you were now, stuck in the house you thought you wouldn’t be spending more than a night in. 

You cautiously walked over to the door you’d lock picked earlier, taking special care not to step on Persilla as she skittered between your feet, before grabbing the handle and pushing it open. The room turned out to be a seemingly simple office, which you found unsurprising for the most part. There was a wall full of books on one side, a glass cabinet of liquor wedged between its centre, while another wall was made up entirely of glass that showed off an enormous portion of Jungkook’s estate. It was the large desk to your right that really caught your attention, the sight of a map sprawled over its smooth surface particularly piquing your interest. 

You walked towards the glass cabinet first, pulling out a crystal glass and a bottle of whiskey to pour yourself a drink, before you walked over to the desk and glanced at the map curiously. Persilla jumped onto the surface, circling the piece of paper like a predator surveying its prey. 

“It’s a map of the North,” you noted, taking a sip of the drink in your hand momentarily as you recognised the illustration instantly. You’d spend months studying a similar map back home before marrying Jungkook after all.

Handmade lines ran throughout the northern portion of the country, separating the territories run by different mafia leaders. You recognised Jungkook’s territory first, one of the bigger ones in the region, while Taehyung’s was right next to his, both of which were detailed with the locations of different landmarks: docks, hotels, residential areas, etc. You noticed that the other territories hadn’t been labelled like that, with the territory above Jungkook’s labelled “Park Territory” simply containing one or two locations and the territory labelled “Min Territory” containing no locations. There was a region above those two territories that hadn’t even been labelled at all, similar to your own map of the North back at home. 

“Aside from Taehyung’s territory, Jungkook doesn’t seem to know much about the northern region. I guess we’re similar in that aspect,” you muttered, speaking to Persilla as if you were giving her a report of the current situation. She turned towards you, tilting her head for a moment before she nudged the corner of the paper with her paw. You narrowed your gaze at the action, deciding to flip the paper. To your surprise there was another map, this time illustrating the southern portion of the country; the one where your father’s territory, the Lees, was situated and where you’d grown up your entire life. 

You smiled at Persilla, scratching under her chin while she purred in delight at the attention. What would you do without her?

It was surprising to see this map so much more detailed than the first, you thought, taking another sip of the whiskey in your hand. While Taehyung’s territory had been the only one littered with details in the northern region, all the territories in the South were full of details upon details. You could make out each one labelled with its respective mafia leader, a number of important locations, and even predictions about possible actions each leader might take in the future, all of which you could confirm to be highly accurate.

You flipped the map back to how it had been initially, gaze raising to move onto scanning the rest of the room while Persilla dropped to the floor quietly.

“How could Jungkook know so little about the northern region, yet so much about the South?” You thought out loud, tracking Persilla’s movements as she began pacing around the room. He was clearly great at collecting intel, the amount of information he had on the southern region was evidence of that, yet the North, his own region, was practically blank aside from Taehyung’s territory. Having grown up in the southern region yourself, you knew it better than the back of your hand. So if Jungkook had grown up in the North, how could he know so little about it? Was there some kind of history between the mafias in the North? 

Like your thoughts, you began absentmindedly drifting towards the enormous bookshelf, fingers brushing against the hardcover spines. 

If there really was history between the northern mafias, then knowing that history could be useful. Once you killed Jungkook and blamed his death on Park Jimin, there would be war between the Jeons and the Parks, and since the Kims and Mins are allied with the Jeons and Parks, respectively, it would be a full on war of the North. It’s that kind of instability you were aiming for, but knowing the more personal history of the northern mafias might help you create further tensions between the alliances, making things even more unstable. It would be perfect; the messier the better. That’s what your ultimate plan called for. That’s how you’ll finally-

You suddenly came to an abrupt stop, your fingers freezing as they came in contact with a particular book. It was a hardcover, just like the others, entirely black aside from the title, which had been written in bright gold, and the off-white pages. 

Persilla was back to skittering between your ankles once again, as if sensing the change in your thoughts. Her soft, black tail brushed against your bare legs as you delicately brought out the book with both your hands, wide eyes scanning it almost in disbelief. 

The Choice of a Nation.

It was the book that had changed your life. A fictitious book about a protagonist that lived in a world of human rights, justice, and structure. A world where everyone, more or less, was defined by their achievements and hard work rather than who they were born to. 

Reality was far from that. It was an enormous country cut up into territories based on which mafia leader ruled it. It was having to grow up watching innocent people be slaughtered because of petty disputes between said mafia leaders. It was watching people from mafia families be automatically rich and educated and powerful while people born to those under their rule automatically be poor, uneducated, and stepped on again and again and again. You were taught that this way of living was normal, that it was the only way of living in this world. 

Reality was something you’ve always found difficult to come to terms with because of this, because despite being taught the normalcy of such a way of living, it never seemed right to you. You couldn’t wrap your head around the idea of people’s entire lives being dependent on who they were born to, something that wasn’t in their control. If you were born a servant, you and the rest of your generations would stay servants forever. If you were born a mafia leader, you and your future generations would stay in power forever. Your sentiments made you feel alien when you realised no one else around you seemed to share the same thoughts, so much so that you started wondering that perhaps you really were being too unrealistic. 

But then came The Choice of a Nation, a book that introduced to you concepts like governments and elections and courts. It was all entirely fiction, every term having to be explained in great detail to be understandable, but all that mattered to you was that it was doable. Having different levels of governments, having a justice system that judged everyone fairly no matter who they were, and having the people decide who they want leading them. It was realistic. 

And you’re convinced that the mafia families knew it too, because despite its fictitious nature, the book was immediately banned the second it was published, while its author had been killed just as quickly. You yourself had only gotten your hands on the book out of sheer dumb luck. Distantly you wondered how and why Jungkook had this copy. 

After that you had become dead set on making the book’s world a reality. But in order for things to go as you’ve planned, you need things to be unstable, because unstable things are weak. The South has always been like that, with mafia leaders constantly at each other’s throats. You doubt any of them even know what the word ‘alliance’ even means. It was perfect for you. 

The North, on the other hand, was a bit different. There were two alliances and the most northern region was a complete mystery to you. At first, you were stumped with how you were going to weaken the region, but then the opportunity had presented itself when your father had announced your hasty marriage to Jungkook. And once again, it was perfect. 

All you needed was Jungkook to be dead, and the rest would fall in place just like you’d planned. 

A meowing noise suddenly sounded from your feet, causing you to look down and find Persilla standing on her hind legs, her front paws brushing against your bare shins repeatedly. Her impatience was clear as day, making you smile. 

“You’re right, that’s enough snooping for today I think,” you nodded, running a hand over her small head while the other clutched the book firmly, “you deserve some expensive salmon for being such a good girl.”

As if she understood your words, Persilla dropped to the floor and purred, rubbing her furry body against your ankle. You gave the room one last look, as if expecting to find something else worth surveying, but ultimately decided you were way too tired from your all-nighter to continue on. 

-

-

-

At this point in his life, Jungkook could say with certainty that he was a pretty patient man. He wasn’t born with the trait, if anything impatience seemed to have been stitched well into his personality the second he’d entered this world. But, over time, he’d learned to get rid of the pesky trait and replace it with the much more effective and fruitful quality that was patience. 

Yet, not even all those years of cultivating the characteristic could have prepared him for how late Kim Taehyung was. 

Jungkook had been standing at the West docks, hands in the pockets of his long, black coat, since 8:00 AM in the morning, waiting almost 4 hours for his friend with furrowed brows and an unimpressed frown. He’d left the house as early as appropriately possible, partly because of your presence and partly because of the urgency in addressing the dock’s issue. Now it was almost noon and Taehyung, who’d promised to be here by 9:00 AM was still nowhere in sight. 

An annoyed sigh escaped his lips as he felt the ocean air breeze through the nearly black strands of his hair. Taehyung being late had given him more time to think about earlier this morning, when he’d shot you a glance before he was out the front door. You looked like you hadn’t slept a wink, which Jungkook could relate to, but he supposed that was for the best. You’d threatened to kill him at the end of your conversation last night, so having you sleep deprived would probably work in his favour. 

Not that you could really do anything anyway. Jungkook had made sure to set guards in every entrance to the kitchen and stripped the house of every weapon that wasn’t locked in a hefty safe. There was no way you could get your hands on any kind of gun or knife, so he was pretty confident that you couldn’t be a threat to him at the moment. Though, the memory of your fiery eyes from last night had seemed so determined…

“What are you smirking about?” Taehyung asked as he strolled along the boardwalk, making his way towards the younger man. 

Jungkook’s scowl instantly returned, causing Taehyung to raise his hands in surrender, “it took Chaewon and I a whole hour to get Suho to bed, who’s also sick by the way. Cut me some slack, man.”

“I told you guys to stay over at my place and not some hotel,” Jungkook chastised, feeling bad for the little guy. He made a note to send some sweets to their hotel room when he got back, “the maid could have helped you guys out.”

“The newlyweds deserve to have the house to themselves,” Taehyung waved him off before he smirked, “besides, I didn’t know how freaky you guys were going to get and I couldn’t risk Suho hearing, he’s way too young for that stuff.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes, motioning for Taehyung to start following him. They started walking along the boardwalk, Jungkook’s hands still shoved into his coat’s pockets while Taehyung’s were covered in black leather gloves. 

“Okay,” Taehyung said, “I’m just going to ask one question, and then we’ll drop it and you can explain this whole dock’s situation to me.”

That earned him a raised brow, but the lack of the younger’s refusal spurred him on. 

“What do you think of her?”

Jungkook didn’t answer for a moment, mulling over his reply before he finally answered. 

“She’s fine.”

He didn’t know why he wasn’t telling Taehyung the truth about you, about how your entire ditzy personality was a front and about how hellbent you were on killing him to get a divorce. Maybe it was because he didn’t really see the need to. Jungkook had concluded that you were only trying to kill him because you wanted a divorce, allowing you to go back to whichever boyfriend was waiting for you back in the south. 

“Your words are saying she’s fine, but your face is saying you’re mad,” Taehyung noted with a brow raised. But Jungkook waved him off, ready to end this conversation and get onto more important business. 

“Anyways, as you know, the Parks decided to attack the West docks last week,” Jungkook began, pointing towards his left to show Taehyung the damage sustained. One of the enormous warehouses, which collectively formed a neat line leading farther than his eye could decipher, had caved into itself, its walls charred almost entirely. The two warehouses by its side seemed more salvageable, with only a wall or two affected by the evident fire that had taken place. Construction workers could already be seen surrounding the area, hard at work to replace the damaged structures. 

Taehyung nodded as he took in the scene, “an attack at the docks… they’re checking to see how strong the Jeons are at the moment.”

“They’re doing it because they want to know if they can take over our territory.”

That was the standard protocol after all. When a mafia attacks another mafia’s docks, it’s usually because they want to test how weak or strong they are and whether they can take them over or not. The fact that the Parks pulled something like this right after their alliance with the Mins was no coincidence to Jungkook. 

But to his surprise, Taehyung paused, as if mulling over Jungkook’s words. He watched Taehyung’s gaze drift over to the vast sea on their right, a contemplative look shadowing over his eyes before they flickered back to Jungkook. 

“Is that really what you think Jimin is doing?” 

“What do you mean?” Jungkook frowned, “this is the textbook procedure for taking over another territory.”

When Taehyung didn’t answer him, Jungkook placed a hand in front of his chest, blocking his path so the two could stand facing each other as they spoke.

“I’m just saying,” Taehyung finally explained, “it seems a bit out of character for him. Wasn’t he always the one that was going on about how dumb it is to want to take over other territories instead of cultivating your own?”

Jungkook scoffed, “yeah, in university, which was years ago. Jimin has changed since then.”

Taehyung’s lips formed a grim line at the animosity in his voice. 

“Look, I know you both-”

“No,” Jungkook cut him off quickly, knowing exactly where this conversation was going, “this isn’t the hatred from what happened years ago talking. Jimin has changed, and I have the evidence to prove it.”

Jungkook turned around to resume his earlier path, Taehyung walking slowly behind him as they passed by the workers sighing in relief at the cool breeze of the ocean and large ships anchored alongside the piers. In a matter of minutes, Jungkook had led him to the entrance of an enormous warehouse. Taehyung’s brows furrowed when Jungkook turned around to face him, a grim expression washing over his strong features. 

“When the Parks attacked the docks last week, I managed to prevent them from seizing control of it by bringing out some old blackmail. Obviously I didn’t think it would hold them off for long if their plan really is to take over my territory, but I didn’t expect them to retaliate so soon,” Jungkook explained, “nor did I expect them to retaliate in this way.”

He turned back to face the warehouse's door, hand wrapping around its handle, “the night before my wedding, I was called to the docks because some of the worker’s had found something in this warehouse.”

Then he turned the handle and pushed the door wide open, revealing its inside.

“This is what I found.”

It was awful. 

The entire warehouse was full of dead bodies, some thrown haphazardly on the ground while others were thrown over the equipment spanning the room. Taehyung could make out bodies of men, women, and even some children -he couldn’t look at them for too long without thinking of his own son- all of which had clearly been killed in varying ways. Some looked like they had been burned, while others looked like they’d been thrown into a blender. Being in the mafia, Taehyung was no stranger to blood and gore, but this… this was too much, even for him. 

But then his gaze caught onto a wall in the far corner of the warehouse, particularly the sight of dried blood smeared against the grey metal. He took in each stroke of red, processing each letter it had been made to resemble until he could read what had been written. 

“‘We’re coming,’” Jungkook read out loud, keeping his stoic gaze fixed on Taehyung. 

He shook his head, unable to comprehend what he was seeing, “I knew Yoongi was brutal, but I never could have expected he’d be capable of… this.”

Jungkook’s gaze drifted around the room, grimacing at the scene before him. 

“Jimin and Yoongi clearly aren’t who they used to be,” he concluded, looking towards Taehyung for confirmation. Thankfully, Taehyung nodded this time, gaze becoming hard as he agreed without protest. 

“Well, they’ve warned us that they’re coming,” he said, gesturing towards the bloody message, “what are we going to do about it?”

Jungkook motioned for Taehyung to follow him back outside, where the air didn’t smell like death and the sights didn’t make him want to crawl out of his skin. 

“I’ve scheduled a meeting with one of the unaffiliated gangs located in the West in about an hour. As long as we pay them well, they’ll do just about anything for us. Having extra manpower should tip the odds in our favour. Not to mention, I’ll make good use of the Lees.”

Taehyung nodded as he watched Jungkook close the door of the warehouse, “are you going to contact Jimin first?”

“No,” he shook his head, beginning to walk back to the parking lot alongside Taehyung, “I’ve had a headcount done and it doesn’t seem like any of the people in the warehouse were one of ours. I think the Parks were just trying to send a message to scare us.”

“I’ll get a headcount done for my people too just in case,” Taehyung said, to which Jungkook agreed. 

Once they had made it back to the parking lot, Taehyung turned to face him.

“I was thinking of heading back to my territory tonight, since I have a few things I need to take care of,” he explained, opening the door of his bright orange car before leaning against it casually, “but Chaewon wanted to have a late lunch or dinner with the bride and groom before we left. I hope you don’t mind.”

Jungkook’s interest piqued as a thought suddenly came to mind. This would be a good opportunity to assess how you and him were going to act like a couple in front of others. If the two of you failed, it would be fine since it was just Taehyung and Chaewon, two people that he trusted with his life. Then you and him could learn from the experience and hopefully get it together before having to make any public appearances. 

“Does 6 work?” He asked, to which Taehyung nodded. 

The two then exchanged quick goodbyes, Taehyung explaining that he should probably get back as soon as possible to get things in order, before Jungkook watched as he got into his car and drove off, standing for a few minutes until someone came to stand behind him. 

“Sir?”

He turned to find a man bowing in his direction, waiting for permission to speak. Jungkook motioned for him to go on, already getting an idea of what this was about. 

“Our informant within the Lees just contacted us,” he explained, “he said that Lee Y/N’s father believes his daughter to be a frivolous and naive girl, her sole purpose being to marry someone that will benefit the Lees.”

Jungkook nodded at the news. So you had been telling the truth when you said that you’d fooled everyone, including your father, with your performance… Distantly he wondered why you would decide to resort to such an act. 

“Have there been any talks of betraying this alliance?” Jungkook asked, to which the man shook his head. 

“The informant said there were none. Lee Y/N’s father seems dependent on this alliance to protect himself from neighbouring mafias. The South is quite unsettled in that aspect.”

“I see, and have there been any talks of Y/N having some sort of significant other in the Lee territory?”

The man seemed to hesitate for a moment, “the informant said that there weren’t really any talks of that… but he did mention that before your marriage, when Lee Y/N was still living in the Lee territory, he’d accidentally overheard a hushed phone conversation she’d had in her bedroom. He couldn’t make out what they had been talking about, but he was able to confirm that the voice on the other line was male. The informant hadn’t thought anything of it at the time, but since you’re asking now, he decided it would be safer to let you know just in case.”

It could have been anyone, hell, you could have been talking to a relative or something, but Jungkook’s mind went straight to his initial theory. It made sense, especially considering you wanted a divorce so badly. He couldn’t really think of any other reason besides your heart already belonging to someone else… even though you were his wife. 

“Sir? Was there anything else?” The man asked, causing Jungkook to reel in his scowl.

“Contact Lee Y/N’s father and schedule a meeting with him as soon as he can,” Jungkook said, “that’s all, thank you.”

The man bowed, instantly scurrying away from sight to get to the assigned task, while Jungkook turned to start making his way to his car. 

For some reason, his mood had suddenly soured. 

-

-

-

“So we finally get to meet the famous Y/N.”

You smiled shyly as you walked into the grand dining hall, automatically taking in the spiralling chandelier, marble floor, and dark brown dining table filled with formal decoration pieces. Only after this assessment did you let your gaze fall on the two sitting on the dining chairs; the first one you already knew to be Taehyung, who was dressed in a rich grey suit, while the other was a woman -you automatically assumed she was Taehyung’s wife considering the maid had told you you’d be dining with the two today. 

She had been the one that had spoken, but the first thing you noticed when your eyes landed on her was that she was gorgeous. Her straight, long black hair and hazel eyes sparkled under the glittering light of the chandelier overhead, while her dark maroon dress fit elegantly into the rich ambience of the room.

As she stood from her seat, you felt yourself automatically tense. Back in the South, the wives of mafia leaders were always vicious and constantly at each other's throats, a reflection of their husbands’ animosity towards each other. Now that you were married, you supposed you’d have to be subjected to the same, but the only difference was that your ditzy facade would bar you from being able to fight back. Whatever Taehyung’s wife threw at you, you’d have to take it. 

But after she made her way towards you, her actions as smooth as silk, you were surprised when she pulled you in for a quick and formal embrace. 

“The wedding was absolutely beautiful,” she praised, even the flow of her voice silk-like, “and of course your dress, it was exquisite! You must tell me the designer you went with- or perhaps it was all just your figure. I wouldn’t be surprised if that were the case.”

For a moment all you could do was stare at her; this woman… she was being so… nice. Too nice, if you were being honest. It was a little unnerving, instantly making you sceptical of her intentions. Perhaps the wives of northern mafia leaders were more cunning in the way they sniped at each other? They greeted each other politely during occasions, but behind the scenes they would attack each other to obtain what they wanted? But then again, what could anyone possibly want from you? To them you were just some featherbrained girl that dressed like a fancy pastel tablecloth. 

You’d decided to still dress the part this evening, with a fluffy light pink dress that fell right at your knees and a matching silk ribbon tied into a bow pulling up half your hair, even if you didn’t know for sure how much Jungkook would have revealed to Taehyung. You had the feeling that Jungkook wouldn’t tell him anything, since it would work in his favour having the least amount of people knowing, but you’ve also heard how close the two men were so it wouldn’t entirely surprise you if he had.

Taehyung certainly was staring at you like he knew your secret. Unlike his wife, he stayed seated at the dining table, offering you a polite greeting from there instead, but you could recognise the calculating nature of his gaze as clear as day. He was assessing your every movement as you interacted with his wife, which made you straighten up. It wouldn’t be the biggest deal if he did know, because who would believe him if he went around spreading that kind of news, but if he didn’t, then you would have to up the quality of your act. 

“Has Jungkook told you anything about us?” Taehyung’s wife asked as she took the seat next to her husband once again, while you decided to take the seat across from her, “ah- who am I kidding? You’ve only been here a night. I’m Chaewon and this is Taehyung, he’s the leader of the Kims.”

You nodded, making sure to keep your voice light and airy, “you’re pretty.”

She tried to hide it well, but the comment had Chaewon’s eyes flickering to her husband for a moment. It was better that you started dropping a dumb comment here and there to really seal the ‘dumb as rocks’ trait. 

Chaewon quickly recovered from the surprise, letting out a breathy chuckle, “you’re sweet, but you’re so pretty yourself. I love the light sparkles you’ve added to your lids, it’s such a subtle but dainty thing.”

Her tone was so formal that you couldn’t tell if she was passively mocking you or not. You would’ve preferred she just pull a gun on you or something; it would be way less confusing than sitting here and trying to read between the lines of her words. Confrontational individuals were dangerous, but individuals who planned their strikes in the shadows were the real threats. You’d know that best.

At that moment, before you could reply with an even dumber comment, the sound of the door opening caught everyone’s attention. You turned just to catch Jungkook closing the door behind him, his hair slightly damp, likely from a shower, and dressed in a simple black collar shirt tucked into matching black dress pants. He paused at the doorway, scanning the room for a moment until his eyes dropped on you.

Your brows furrowed when he held your gaze for a second longer than normal, a hidden question in your expression. He looked almost thoughtful, an idea clearly waltzing through his mind, before he finally started making his way towards the three of you. 

You thought that was the end of the odd moment, and that Jungkook would finally initiate a conversation with the other two sitting at the table as he pulled out the chair next to you. But just as he was about to settle into the soft cushion, he stalled for a second, turned to face you…

And then placed a quick peck on your cheek.

You froze, shock making your limbs rigid as you used every bit of your self control to stop yourself from instinctively flinching at the action. 

“Sorry I’m late,” Jungkook apologised as he casually plopped down into his seat, gaze fixing on the couple before you. 

But Chaewon smiled, a graceful hand going to her chest. 

“Aww look at how flustered she looks, aren’t they just adorable, Taehyung?” She said with a smile. Your hands instantly went to your cheeks, annoyed to find them burning underneath your palms. 

Before you could think much of it though, the servers started spilling into the room to place steaming plates of food before you all. This evening’s menu seemed to be seafood themed, with plates of crab, lobster, and shrimp filling the initially empty surface of the dark dining table. It made sense to you, considering almost half of Jungkook’s territory bordered the ocean. 

Once the plates had been placed, a server stepped beside you, bringing out a bottle of red wine to pour into the empty glass beside your plate. But you brought up a hand to stop him. 

“Not a fan of wine, Y/N?” Chaewon asked as she noticed the gesture, and once again the ambiguity in her formal tone made it hard to tell whether she was mocking you or not. 

You shook her head in response, “I don’t like alcohol, it tastes gross.”

Yes, ditzy Y/N didn’t like alcohol, but the real Y/N was seriously craving that expensive whiskey you knew Jungkook had stashed in his office at this very moment. He clearly had good taste, it was a shame you’d had to drop a gram of lethal toxin into the bottle before you’d left the room and passed out on Jungkook’s bed for nearly two hours. You scowled inwardly as you remembered how much more you could have slept had it not been for the maid who had woken you up to give you a tour of the house and then helped you get ready for the early dinner you and Jungkook were supposed to have with Taehyung and Chaewon. 

“I apologise ma’am, is there anything else I can interest you in instead?” The server asked, moving the bottle of wine away from your glass. You mused over your answer for a moment, before you smiled up at him.

“I’d like some banana milk, please.”

Once again, Chaewon subtly threw an unreadable look towards Taehyung, but this time she wasn’t alone as Taehyung and Jungkook each threw their own odd looks in your direction at the wildly childish choice. Back when you first started acting naive your reaction would have consisted of an intense feeling of embarrassment washing over you, but now the others’ reactions only seemed to amuse you. Although, you were inwardly groaning at how gross having seafood alongside milk was going to be. But the show had to go on, didn’t it?

Taehyung cleared his throat when the server returned with a wine glass filled with banana milk -you had to pinch your arm to stop yourself from laughing at that- before he turned to face Jungkook, eager to break the awkward silence that had ensued. 

“I hope you both enjoyed your wedding present, Chaewon spent so long on making that gift basket I thought it was going to be for your one year anniversary,” he joked, causing Chaewon to playfully slap his shoulder. 

“I just wanted it to be nice,” she defended instantly, “we’ve known Jungkook for years, seeing him get married makes me feel like a proud older sister.”

It was such a contrasting sight seeing two mafia families be so fond and at ease with each other when you’d grown up seeing the southern mafia families at each other’s throats constantly. Chaewon seemed so comfortable here, and even though Taehyung was mostly quiet -you were starting to think he was trying to decipher the relationship between you and Jungkook with the way he kept staring back and forth between you two- even he didn’t seem to be guarded despite being in another mafia leader’s territory. 

“We enjoyed the basket, thank you,” Jungkook said, bringing your focus back to the conversation. You watched him lean back in his seat as his gaze drifted to you, the ghost of an amused look haunting his features, “the champagne particularly was quite the ice breaker.”

You’d tried to kill him using that bottle and yet here he was practically mocking you about it not even 24 hours later. You threw him a sweet smile, as if you were reliving a fond memory, hoping he would pick up on the hidden glare in your gaze. But that only made his grin widen. 

“I’m glad to hear that,” Chaewon clapped, not seeming to pick up on the tension between you both, “I wasn’t aware of your distaste for alcohol though, Y/N. I’ll be sure to keep that in mind in the future.”

You faced her with what you hoped was a grateful smile, “it’s okay, I really liked the scented candles.”

It had actually been Persilla that had been obsessed with them, the vanilla scented one seeming to be her favourite. 

The dining room was mostly quiet following that, the four of you finishing up your food in a comfortable silence. Inwardly you were gagging at the combination of shrimp and banana milk you’d decided to torment yourself with. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, every few minutes or so you’d catch Jungkook trying to suppress a sly grin, the man being the only one in the room, to your knowledge at least, who knew the reality of your predicament. You scowled, annoyed by his satisfaction until an idea came to mind. 

Well, you could always hit two birds with one stone. 

You reached over your plate to grab your glass of banana milk, bringing it towards yourself to give the impression that you were going to drink from it. But at the last moment, you let the bottom of the glass catch on your plate, causing the entire thing to tip from your fingers. It clattered onto the table, splashing all over Jungkook’s plate and seated form, making him flinch. 

You instantly gasped dramatically, hands going to cover your mouth and eyes widening as you squeaked, “I’m so sorry!”

With Taehyung and Chaewon’s focus shifting to the spill on the table, the roll of Jungkook’s eyes went unnoticed by them. 

“It’s okay, it was only an accident,” he forced out, pushing his chair away from the table’s edge and widening his thighs to evade the rest of the milk. You had to hide your smile behind your hands as you watched the no doubt cold milk seep into his pants. 

Taehyung picked up the box of napkins, which had been near his plate, and held it out to the younger man, causing Jungkook to stretch over the table to receive it. But just as Jungkook grabbed the box, you noticed Taehyung’s brows suddenly furrow, his eyes seeming to stay fixed at a particular spot on Jungkook’s neck. 

You followed his gaze curiously. The first few buttons of Jungkook’s black shirt had been undone, revealing a sliver of his collarbone and chest, but as Jungkook stretched you noticed the fabric shift to expose more of the area, which you realised was covered in red patches that looked a lot like… hickies. You and Taehyung weren’t the only ones that caught this as you noticed Chaewon smirk, her gaze travelling between you both. 

Jungkook himself was the last to notice the stares as he pressed some tissues against the wet material of his pants, most of which was prominent on his lap. Yet when he did notice them, even you knew that Taehyung and Chaewon’s questioning looks wouldn’t allow for him to get out of this without an explanation. 

You expected him to wave them off with a lame excuse anyway, like it was a rash or he’d burned himself somehow. You could call Jungkook many things, but he didn’t seem like the kind of guy that enjoyed making suggestive jokes or conversation. Nor did he seem like the kind of guy to divulge in his sexual escapades. 

But Jungkook didn’t do any of that. Instead he paused, similar to earlier when he had entered the room, and seemed to think something over. Then his gaze dropped on you, and the mischief in his eyes gave you the odd feeling that you should prepare yourself for what he was about to say. 

You should have listened to that feeling. 

Jungkook broke his eye contact with you, his lips twitching into what suspiciously seemed like a smirk, before he turned to face Taehyung and Chaewon. 

“I guess Y/N got a bit carried away earlier.”

Your eyes widened and jaw dropped open as Chaewon gasped, her hands instantly going to her chest as if she couldn’t believe it. From your peripheral vision you could make out Taehyung slumping against the back of his chair, as if he had finally given up on trying to figure the two of you out. 

“Y/N! I would have never guessed you were the freaky type,” Chaewon laughed, her gaze seeming to take you in a different light. Your hands curled into fists under the table. 

Jungkook knew exactly what he was doing by dropping a comment like that, and you were far from stupid enough not to see it. By insinuating that there was a more suggestive side of you, he was slowly starting to break down your performance of an innocent girl capable of doing no wrong in the eyes of others. 

You’d promised to kill him, and now he’d seemingly decided he wanted to kill the image you’d spent years cultivating. 

You took a deep breath to calm yourself as Jungkook’s hand hooked under your chair to drag it towards him, allowing him to wrap an arm around your shoulder when he was close enough. Even in the midst of your subdued anger you noticed just how close the sharp cut of his jawline was in this position, and not to mention the tiny mole under his bottom lip that you hadn’t noticed before. 

“It’s okay, princess,” he said, sounding sweet but you knew it was meant to be mocking, “you don’t have to be shy in front of them.”

You were going to kill him. You were going to shoot him so many times that by the time you were done with him he was going to look like a giant block of swiss cheese-

“Well, we should probably get going,” Taehyung said suddenly, his eyes focused on reading something on his phone before pocketing the device, “I think Suho is starting to get fussy again, plus we should get going if we want to get back home before it gets too dark.”

Taehyung offered a hand to Chaewon to help her get up from her seat, a classy smile gracing her lips as her gaze met yours, “that’s our son by the way. You must meet him the next time we meet.”

“I would love to. I love children,” you said with a tight smile as you and Jungkook got up from your seats, exchanging polite pleasantries all the way to the front door.

“You know, that’s not very surprising to me,” Chaewon commented while Taehyung looped an arm around hers. You waved to each other with smiles, watching him guide her into an orange car before driving around the fountain and disappearing through the tall gates. 

The second the front door closed your smile dropped, replaced by an annoyed scowl that you threw in Jungkook’s direction. He regarded you as you crossed your arms over your chest.

“I don’t know about the North, but in the South we have this thing called personal space. You should try it out some time,” you said, to which Jungkook raised an eyebrow.

“Have you ever seen a married couple have personal space? Really Y/N, must I explain the birds and the bees to you?

You huffed as he walked past you, climbing up the stairs casually while you started following behind him. 

“Why does it even matter if people know how dysfunctional this marriage is? We’re married, how is that not enough?”

It really did not make sense to you why he was so dead set on selling this image of a perfect marriage to others. Back in the South, there was not one marriage a mafia leader was a part of where it wasn’t in complete shambles, and that was very public knowledge to everyone in, and even outside of, the territory. Yet, that didn’t seem to affect the level of control or power the southern mafia leaders had. So why was Jungkook making it out to be such a big deal?

But the question stopped him in his tracks, causing him to turn around on the stairs to give you an incredulous look, as if what you had asked was almost alien. 

“I don’t know how it works in the South, but in the North it very much matters,” he said slowly, gaze fixed on yours, “we must present ourselves as perfect in every aspect of our lives, or there are a number of enemies that would have no problem taking advantage of even the most miniscule flaw.”

You scoffed, “that’s dumb.”

Jungkook turned away from you, not bothering to comment on the mindless remark, as he continued to resume his path up the stairs. When he finally made it to the top and walked up to his bedroom’s door, he pushed it open and walked inside. 

Your breath instantly stalled as you followed behind him, gaze darting around the room quickly to see if Persilla was anywhere in his sights. You knew you didn’t need to worry, Persilla was a master of remaining unseen, she’d managed to hide from everyone in the house when you’d been living in the South with your father after all. You’d even opened the door to the balcony slightly, allowing her to roam outside freely if she wanted to, so she might not have even been in the room anyway. You exhaled slowly, successful in convincing yourself that the little black cat you’d grown to care for and love would be fine. 

Jungkook’s breath, on the other hand, came out as a low huff when he noticed the balcony door ajar. He walked over to it quickly, closing it before giving you a chastising look. One you ignored obviously. 

Instead you casually turned away from him to enter into the bathroom, grabbing a few makeup wipes before returning back into the bedroom and plopping yourself down on the fluffy duvet of the bed. You began wiping off the various light sparkles and pinks that softened your face, as if you were taking off a doll-like mask. 

“You’re an annoying little thing, aren’t you?” He commented as he watched your nonchalant demeanour. 

Then it was your turn to watch him disappear into his closet for a moment, the muffled sounds of clothes moving around reaching your ears, before he emerged in a pair of grey sweatpants and a black short sleeve t-shirt. 

But you particularly noticed his right arm, which was covered in a full sleeve of tattoos ending just above his wrist. The ink travelled over the smooth ridges of his skin, taut from the firm muscles underneath. Your gaze immediately dropped to the small trash can next to the bedside table, hoping he didn’t notice your staring, as you focused on throwing the used wipes into the bin. 

You then leaned back on the mattress, arms holding you upright, trying to get your focus back on track, “I like how forgetting to close the balcony door annoys you and not the fact that I want you dead.”

That made Jungkook smile, amusement clear in his eyes, “I’m still standing here though, aren’t I?”

Your reply was quick.

“It won’t be for long.”

“Right,” Jungkook nodded, his words laced into a patronising chuckle, “but while you’re working on that, I need you to actually act like my wife. We’re lucky Taehyung and Chaewon didn’t notice anything, the public won’t be so inattentive.”

You tilted your head, “yes, I wonder what the public would have said about the hickies on your neck.”

Jungkook mirrored your movements, the edges of his lips twitching.

“I think they would be glad to be under the impression that we’re hard at work trying to produce an heir.”

“That’s only if your side piece stays quiet.” 

“Careful, Y/N,” Jungkook tutted, “you sound almost jealous.”

“Jealous?” You repeated incredulously, sitting up straighter with an evidently offended expression, “your girl is sleeping with a dead man walking. Is that something to be jealous of?”

Jungkook paused for a moment, continuing to direct an amused gaze in your direction, before he turned away, a breathy chuckle escaping his lips as he ran a hand through his hair, “relax, princess, there’s no other girl. I just went hunting earlier and got a few mosquito bites. Nothing more.”

“It doesn’t make a difference to me,” you shrugged before falling back onto the mattress, the softness of the duvet making your limbs feel heavy with exhaustion. The position caused your dress to ride up to the middle of your thighs, a movement that didn’t go unnoticed by Jungkook. He looked away when he realised he was staring, choosing instead to focus his gaze on the bright moon outside the window. 

“We may be as far from in love with each other as the moon is to the earth, but I still won’t risk messing around with others outside this relationship,” he said. There was a pause after his words, as if he were expecting you to say something, but you let the silence ensue. There really was nothing you wanted to add anyway. 

A noise made you lift your head, allowing you to see Jungkook unlocking the door to his office before he turned his head to you, “just get used to whatever happened at dinner today. There will be much more where that came from in the future.”

And then he was gone, disappearing into the room while locking the door behind him. Jungkook immediately walked over to the cabinet, pulling out a crystal glass and a bottle of whiskey to place them on the desk.

The loud clink of the glass against the wood of the desk made Jungkook frown, annoyed by his getting annoyed at your lack of reply. Yet, it was evident that he was indeed irritated by it. Of course you wouldn’t agree not to mess around with others, you had your ‘boyfriend’ waiting for you back in the South. 

He certainly wasn’t messing around with anyone. After meeting Taehyung at the docks, Jungkook had gone to meet with the leader of an independent gang in the West, who, to his distaste, was a huge fan of hunting. So naturally they’d met in a forest to hunt for a few hours, before Jungkook had convinced the man to be at his disposal. Jungkook has always been prone to mosquito bites, but that day the mosquitos seemed to have taken a particular liking to his neck and arms, despite what Taehyung and Chaewon might have thought. 

It didn’t matter to him, though, that you had a boyfriend. Yes, it really didn’t. He was just annoyed because if someone found out about him, then Jungkook’s reputation would take a hit. The news would spread like a wildfire, and the outcome would be far from good. 

He didn’t even know how well you could hide a secret like that. What if you slipped up somewhere? What if the dude did? It would be a disaster. 

Jungkook placed his glass down, the whiskey momentarily forgotten as he grabbed his phone and leaned back in his chair, staring at the screen in thought. This was for the good of his leadership, not anything personal. Yes, that’s right. 

Mind made, Jungkook quickly dialled a familiar number, waiting barely a single ring before a male voice sounded from the device. 

“Hello sir, was there something I could help you with?”

Jungkook’s fingers wrapped around the glass on his desk, “tell the informant I want him to investigate Lee Y/N’s room at the Lee mansion. I want to find out everything we can about the man Y/N was talking on the phone with before our marriage, and if there’s anything else unusual I want to be informed of it as well.”

“Yes, of course sir,” the voice said immediately, “I’ll let him know as soon as possible. Is that all?”

Jungkook paused for a moment, thinking over the question. This had been an impromptu call after all.

Stuck in his thoughts, he brought the glass into his hand, swirling the liquid in it for a second before taking a modest sip.

His reflexes acted before his mind did; the second he registered the hint of a metallic taste he lurched forward, spitting the liquid back into the glass in a matter of a second. Even with that little exposure he could start to feel his tongue burn slightly, causing him to instantly open the drawer of his desk and grab a water bottle. The water soothed his mouth as he quickly swished it between his teeth before spitting it out and repeating the process a few times.

“Sir? Sir?! Is everything okay?” The voice rang from his phone, Jungkook almost forgetting about him for a second. He cleared his throat.

“Yes, it was nothing. That will be all, thank you.”

He ended the call, grimacing in discomfort at the feel of his slightly sensitive tongue against the roof of his mouth. So you’d managed to find a way to sneak into his office. He shouldn’t have been very surprised by that, you seemed to have a talent for getting into places where you shouldn’t. 

Jungkook sighed as he eyed his liquor cabinet, realising that he’d have to throw it all. But as his gaze raised, it seemed to catch an empty slot in his bookshelf. Curiously he walked over to it, hand hovering over the hollow space between a book about war tactics and a book about his family’s history. 

It wasn’t hard to put two and two together. You’d obviously taken one of his books, but whether it was for casual reading or for something more he couldn’t tell. 

He ignored the pang of pain that rippled throughout his mouth as he ran his tongue over the back of his teeth, his gaze falling back to his desk. With Jimin’s attacks, he had a lot of work he was going to have to do, and now seemed like the perfect time to get that done considering he was not going to go back into his bedroom, which you had taken over. 

He sighed. 

It was going to be a long night. 

-

-

-

You remained seated on the bed as you watched Jungkook lock the door behind him, leaving you alone in his bedroom once again. You hoped he enjoyed the nice present you’d dropped into his liquor bottles this morning, because you were just about ready to be shipped off back to the Lee mansion and watch your plan unfold in the perfect way you’d outlined it to. 

The sound of something tapping against glass caught your attention, causing you to turn towards the balcony. It was hard to spot her in the dead of night, her black fur blending into the dark so well that her feline eyes were the only thing about her you could really make out. But even then, there was no doubt in your mind that it was Persilla trying to get your attention from outside of the balcony door. 

You stood, sending a wary glance in the direction of Jungkook’s office’s door, before slowly pushing yourself off the mattress and making your way towards the glass. You paused in front of it for a moment, taking a deep breath before closing your eyes. Your hands blindly felt in front of you, moving erratically in the air for a moment before you could feel the handle between your fingers. You pulled on it, hearing the sound of the door opening as well as the feel of the fresh airy breeze on your face.

The second you felt Persilla’s small body walking between your feet, you pushed the door close, sighing in relief when you opened your eyes. 

You crouched down to pet Persilla’s head, scratching against her chin when she purred delightfully. It was only when she moved her head upwards, showcasing her collar, when you paused, your gaze catching onto something white wedged between the sleek leather and her furry neck. 

“Do you have something for me, Persilla?” You asked, fingers pinching the thing, which you realised was a folded note, and bringing it out of its confines. You unfolded it, eyes widening after scanning it and recognising the familiar strokes of black pen on its surface.

It’s done.

We should meet soon.

~ H

A/N: comments, reblogs, and likes are appreciated! Also Jungkook when he finds out about Persilla: 🧍‍♂️

Fool's Gold || Part III

Summary: Sweet Y/N, with her fluffy pastel dresses, soft makeup, and ditzy mannerisms. She’s seen as a fool in a world where there is no place for such things, but little do they know, the only fools are them.

Pairing: mafia leader!Jungkook x mafia leader's daughter!reader

Genre: mafia au, arranged marriage au

Word Count: 15.5k

Warnings: most warnings associated with mafia fics (e.g. gun/physical violence, blood, dead bodies, etc), additional warnings might be added as the story progresses

A/N: it's finally here! Sorry for the wait, things have just been really busy lately... but I hope you enjoy!

<< previous part || masterlist || next part >>

Living with you has been an absolute nightmare.

Obviously Jungkook had known that dropping poison in his champagne and whiskey wouldn’t be the end of your little assassination attempt; he’d expected you to continue doing whatever was in your power to make good on your threat. He may have been a little cocky about it too, teasing you over the fact that he was standing before you unscathed, but the logical part of him still knew to keep his guard up constantly. 

What he hadn’t realised was how exhausting it would all be. 

You’d been here only four days and Jungkook had already had to evade poison in his toothpaste, a suspicious looking pin wedged into the insole of his shoe, and garlic juice in his cologne- the last one seeming far from a homicide attempt and closer to just pissing him off. 

Dealing with that alone was one thing, because it wasn’t something he couldn’t handle. But on top of it all, Jungkook hadn’t slept properly in days. He’d found himself dozing off for a few minutes here and there while holed up in his office at night occasionally, but he had mostly just stuck to spending his nights working, especially on the Park issue. He couldn’t risk actually sleeping in his office considering he knew that you had the ability to bypass the lock. And besides, as much as he would appreciate a few extra hours of sleep, Jungkook still had to be ready for if Jimin decided to attack again, even if he’d been quiet so far.

One of those preparations involved speaking with your father, which was why you and Jungkook were seated in one of the guest houses at 8:00 AM in the morning while your father was sat casually on the creme-coloured settee across from the mahogany coffee table before you both. The guest house was situated near the gates of Jungkook’s estate, still within its borders, but far enough that it had its own entrance and ensured guests wouldn’t end up too close to his house, just how he liked it. 

The initial meeting with your father had been awkward, though Jungkook may have been the only one to catch onto it. Your father hadn’t embraced you or kissed your cheek or told you how much he missed you, instead he had sent a formal nod in your direction before giving Jungkook a firm handshake. After that your father had barely spared you a glance, addressing Jungkook as if he were the only one in the room. You didn’t seem very offended by this either, your gaze instead drifting around the space looking almost bored as the two men conversed casually for a few minutes. 

It was an interesting detail, one Jungkook tucked into the back of his sleep-deprived mind. 

“The differences between the North and South have surprised me a ton,” Mr. Lee commented, taking a sip from the teacup in his hand. His accent was rough, no doubt a product of his upbringing in the South, “you guys do things a lot more softly here in the North.”

It was a jab, Jungkook wasn’t stupid enough not to know that, especially knowing how rough things were in the South. That comment was enough for him to know that your father was the type of man that liked to put others down to make himself seem superior. It only amused Jungkook though, because as per the culture, your father already had a bit of an upper hand since he was older, and yet he still felt the need to talk down to him.

Distantly, he wondered if your father’s personality had something to do with why you decided to hide your true personality even from him. 

“Yes, I suppose so,” Jungkook decided to reply dryly, not bothering to bite back. If he had learned anything, it was how to choose his battles, and an ego trip was not worth it in his books. 

Instead his gaze drifted towards your seemingly aloof form. It was a bit unnerving to see you look so quiet and proper, almost like he was being shown a third side of you. Your facade was still definitely up though, no one could miss the slight widening of your eyes and faint pout of your lips to feign an innocent look, but this version of your act was definitely more placid. 

Jungkook’s gaze travelled back to your father as he smiled, a sudden urge to get you to react overtaking him, “it’s definitely been an adjustment for your daughter.”

At your mention, your wandering eyes were reeled back to meet the gazes of the two men before you once again, but, unlike during the dinner with Taehyung and Chaewon, that was the extent of your reaction to the obvious dig. Jungkook’s eyes narrowed in your direction as you continued to sit silently beside him, an innocent expression still painting your already heavily painted features. 

Despite the topic, Mr. Lee’s gaze stayed fixed on Jungkook, “hope she hasn’t been too much trouble. She used to be quite the spitfire growing up, but thankfully I fixed her right up before she could bring that attitude into adulthood. Can’t imagine how I would’ve gotten her married if I hadn’t.”

The room became quiet as Jungkook shifted uncomfortably in his place, your father’s words, which sounded so casual on his tongue, unable to settle comfortably within him. Jungkook wasn’t so naive as to believe that “fixed her up” alluded to gentle parenting and stern lectures. And if his guesses as to how your father might have disciplined you growing up were correct, then you had his sympathies. Jungkook’s childhood wasn’t exactly filled with rainbows and butterflies, the son of a mafia leader’s childhood never is, but everything his father had done was for the betterment of the Jeons, not so Jungkook could be a good slave to a spouse. 

“No,” he finally decided to answer, “she hasn’t been any trouble at all.”

If your father’s comment had bothered you, you didn’t show it. But Jungkook was still eager to change the subject. 

Before he could, however, he was surprised when he felt you straighten up beside him and beat him to it. 

“How is Hannah doing, father?”

Despite all his research, Jungkook had no clue who Hannah was. He’d never even heard of the name before, which he found surprising considering how well he made sure to research the Lees before his marriage. Nevertheless it was clear to him that whoever this Hannah was, she was important. You’d asked the question with your usual soft voice, a casual hint in your tone, but Jungkook had known you long enough at this point to see past your act. He could see the way your gaze had turned calculating, taking in each and every expression that flitted across your father’s face as he took a sip from his teacup before he finally allowed himself to take you in. 

“She's doing fine,” he answered after a moment, voice void of any emotion, “very fine actually.”

Jungkook didn’t miss the subtle jump in your eyebrows at his words, so subtle that he doubted your father would notice it even though he was finally acknowledging your presence. 

“But you should start worrying more about this place, Y/N. This is your home now after all.”

Your gaze immediately dropped at his words as you gave him a timid nod, ditzy Y/N clearly back in full swing. Most would have witnessed this interaction and seen a loving daughter being rejected by her cold, heartless father. But looking past your act of innocence, Jungkook couldn’t help but feel that there was more to this interaction than that. The relationship you had with your father was weird. If Jungkook hadn’t known either of you, he wouldn’t have guessed that you were more than mere acquaintances with how distant you both seemed. No love, no animosity, just… impassive.

And yet, despite this clearly uncommunicative relationship, you’d spoken up only once in this entire conversation to ask about a person named Hannah - or rather you had wanted confirmation about something regarding Hannah, and judging from the way your expression had returned to that naively bored look, you had gotten the confirmation you were seeking. Neither of you had offered to identify who Hannah was to Jungkook either, so he doubted asking would prove to be very useful. 

If only Jungkook had the mind to figure everything out on his own at this moment. He’d already had to stifle three yawns since the beginning of the conversation, all of which he was able to hide only because your father had initially seemed very interested in scanning the contents of the guest house. Hopefully he’d get better at hiding his exhaustion as the day progressed, he had a long day ahead of him after all. 

Your father caught Jungkook’s attention once again when he leaned forward to place his empty teacup on the mahogany coffee table in front of him. The teacup clinked against the wood before he leaned back into the settee, giving Jungkook a questioning look. 

“So, now that we’ve got the chit chat out of the way, why’d you need to see me so desperately?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest. Jungkook ignored the arrogant structuring of his words once again, gaze instead drifting to you, who was keenly scanning the front page of a newspaper that had been haphazardly placed on the coffee table to give the room a more homey feel. 

He wasn’t entirely sure whether you knew anything about Jimin’s attack on the West Docks. Yes, you had broken into his office once, but Jungkook didn’t leave important stuff like that just lying around so technically you didn’t have any way of knowing about it. Jungkook preferred if you didn’t, because obviously the less you knew the better. You were trying to kill him after all, and as much as he liked to make a joke out of it, he wasn’t dumb enough not to at least partially take it seriously. 

So Jungkook shifted in his seat to face you, the action catching your previously wandering attention, before he placed a hand on your knee. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t hesitant, but thankfully you didn’t flinch at the contact. 

“Why don’t you go freshen up, princess? Your father and I have some business to discuss, and then after that you and I have somewhere to be.”

Jungkook watched your eyebrows twitch, though whether it was from the nickname or in question of where the two of you would be heading he didn’t know. But then your gaze flickered to your father’s direction for a moment before you quietly nodded. 

You stood from the settee, ignoring the way Jungkook’s hand, which had been resting on your knee, brushed against your skin as it fell. When you faced your father, hands clutched before you, he was already looking up at you with a familiarly indifferent expression. 

“It was nice seeing you again, father,” you said formally, keeping your voice light and soft as you offered him a small bow. You were returned a formal nod, another familiar action, before you turned away from the two men and pushed through the double doors of the guest house. 

A deep sigh escaped your lips the moment you heard the door shut behind you, feeling as though someone had lifted an anvil off your chest. Your father’s presence had always felt suffocating, you were just glad that the two of you being in the same room has also always been a rare occurrence in itself. 

You didn’t have time to dwell on that fact as the beauty of Jungkook’s estate now stood before you in all its glory. Lush green grass surrounding a stone walkway, colourful flowers popping out of strategically placed beds, and large, but maintained, Japanese Maple trees scattered here and there were all organised neatly to form a breathtaking courtyard. 

This was the one thing you could unconditionally appreciate about Jungkook’s estate. Most leaders’ estates screamed money with the various marble statues of themselves and their families littering their front yards and excessive landscaping drenching the flowers and grass in stone and metal. But Jungkook’s was filled with greenery, as if you were walking through an enormous garden. You loved it. 

While surveying the area your gaze dropped to the stone pathway before you, the one you and Jungkook had walked through to get to the guest house and also the one you were certain Jungkook was expecting you to take after being kicked out of said guest house. You stared at it for no more than three seconds, not even bothering to think it over, before you spun around in your spot and pressed your ear to the door you had just emerged from. 

There was something wrong. 

Although alliances were a very uncommon thing in the South, you were still smart enough to know that business deals between allies should be eased into slowly, not started four days after a marriage. This meeting was happening way too soon, which made you doubt it was business-related at all. 

Jungkook needed something from the Lees. The only question was what?

After leaning quietly against the door for a few minutes, you were only able to pick up a few words here and there between quick stifled yawns. It would’ve disappointed you if it wasn’t for the one name you managed to catch Jungkook say as clear day.

Park Jimin.

The leader of the Parks. The man whose close friend consisted of the ruthless Min Yoongi, leader of the Mins. Both mafias were located north of Taehyung and Jungkook’s territories. Personally, you’ve never heard of any ongoing disputes between the four, but if Jungkook was mentioning Park’s name in a meeting with your father, there had to be something going on. 

That would be perfect, because if you killed Jungkook while he was having a feud with Jimin, then Jungkook’s death would be more likely to be pinned on Jimin, allowing you to bear no consequences and be sent back to the Lees without a scratch. 

Except… it wasn’t perfect, because killing Jungkook had proven to be a lot harder than you had anticipated.

Killing your first husband had been child’s play. Even after you’d grabbed the gun from his waistband and shot him twice in the chest, his men had taken one look at the scene and ruled you out before you had even had the chance to construct a detailed tale of an assassin that had come through the window and shot him dead. They had been complete idiots, entirely unable to see the doe-eyed girl with frilly pink dresses and a soft airy voice as anything more than that. 

But this case was an entirely different challenge. You’d realised on the very night of your wedding that the people around Jungkook, as well as Jungkook himself of course, were not as stupid. You knew that if you tried to pull the same stunt again, you’d be pinned for the murder eventually. It’s why you hadn't even bothered to search for some kind of weapon in Jungkook’s mansion, nor had you tried to steal the gun you knew stayed sat on Jungkook’s waistband at every moment of the day. If you used a weapon to kill Jungkook, you’d be caught. 

That’s why you had stuck to poisons as your main choice of weapon. The collection of toxins you had managed to smuggle into the mansion, all thanks to Persilla of course, was made to make kills look like nature’s fate. Yet, despite dropping toxins into anything that could possibly make contact with Jungkook’s mouth or skin for the past four days, your efforts were proving to be futile. Jungkook’s knack for catching onto small details was just a difficult barrier to overcome. 

You knew H hadn’t sent you that note to pressure you into speeding up Jungkook’s murder, and you hadn’t taken it in that way at first, but now that four days had passed you were beginning to think about changing your methods. It would be more complicated, but you needed to get this done quickly. 

A gun would be the best way to finish him off in your opinion; it was the one weapon you were a master of and getting a hold of one shouldn’t be too difficult with all the guards milling around the estate. Then all you’d need to do was get Jungkook alone, shoot him dead, and then plant some evidence that pointed towards the Parks. You’d need to be careful, but it was doable a-

“Now look what I’ve found.”

You snapped away from the door and whirled around, startled entirely as a male voice suddenly spoke up from behind you. You were met with the view of a man, one you’ve never seen before, standing a couple metres away from your form, his hair as light brown as his eyes. He stood with his hands in the pockets of his dark jeans, while the buttons of his white polo shirt were open to reveal a sliver of his neck. 

“I seem to have caught a nosy little mouse.”

You wanted to ask him who he was and what he was doing here. Anyone within the gates of Jungkook’s estate had to be close to him, you’d learned that much during your stay here. Yet, Jungkook had failed to mention this man at all. 

But before you could voice your questions, the man stepped forward, brown dress shoes tapping against the stone beneath you both, and held out a hand, “I’m Daehyun, Jungkook’s cousin. We haven’t formally been introduced.”

Tentatively, because you still had an act to uphold, you reached out to shake his hand, making sure to keep your grip weak, “I’m Y/N.”

Then you remembered that eavesdropping on a conversation between Jungkook and your dad may not seem like the most innocent thing to Daehyun. So you quickly mustered up a believable excuse. 

“I swear I wasn’t trying to listen to their conversation! I just…”

You paused, pretending to shy away from him to give the illusion that you were embarrassed to admit the blatant lie that was about to escape your lips.

“I just wanted to know if Jungkook would talk about me,” you said, keeping your gaze on the ground as you started fidgeting with your fingers, “he’s not the most talkative man with me, so I just wanted to see if he would admit anything to my father.”

“Mhmm,” Daehyun replied, and you couldn’t help but feel that the tone of his voice gave the impression that he wasn’t paying attention. Finding that strange, you lifted your gaze from the ground hesitantly and observed him. The sight made you grimace inwardly. 

Daehyun’s lack of interest could be explained by the fact that he was too busy raking his eyes across your body, taking in your bare legs and neck, almost as if he were entranced. You noticed his fingers twitch as he took in the frills of your pink dress and the silk bow holding up half your hair. 

“God, you don’t look a day over 19,” he commented, as if you weren’t even there and he was simply talking to himself, “how old are you, darling?”

This was far from the first time a guy had looked at you as though you were a piece of meat. In fact, your act seemed to garner a lot more attention from the male species than it should. You liked to think that all the years of this had made you immune to moments like these, but deep down you knew it still made your skin crawl.

That being said, the implications of Daehyun’s words were beginning to register in your mind. This was Jungkook’s cousin, his family. It was customary for all male members of mafia families to have a gun with them at all times, which meant that there was a very high probability that, if Daehyun were to turn around, you would catch sight of a shiny black gun wedged into his waistband. He didn’t seem like the intelligent type to you either, which meant this would be a better opportunity to steal a gun compared to snagging one from a constantly alert guard. 

All you needed to do was get him a little closer to you. 

“Twenty-three,” you finally answered, keeping your voice soft and innocent-sounding. You took the opportunity to take a timid step forward, one that seemed to go unnoticed by Daehyun.

Instead he nodded, as if in approval of your answer, “Jungkook really hit the jackpot with you, didn’t he… I expect you’ll age beautifully. Lucky bastard.”

You pushed down the urge to throw up in your mouth. If you were being honest with yourself, you didn’t think you had it in you to lead him on in order to steal the gun. He was just way too slimy, saying things that were way too gross. 

But turns out, you didn’t really need to say anything as Daehyun took another step towards you, leaving only a hand’s length between yourself and him. You automatically felt yourself tense. If it were up to you, you’d have grabbed his shirt and kicked him where the sun doesn’t shine. But you were ditzy Y/N at the moment, and ditzy Y/N couldn’t fight back. 

Instead you tried to focus on the gun. He was close enough that you could snake your arm behind him without him noticing, but he still needed to get a little closer for you to grab it. 

“Relax, darling,” Daehyun soothed, and to both your distaste and relief he placed a hand on your shoulder, closing the distance you needed. Your hand crept forward slowly, stopping at his waistband, “you don’t need to be so tense-”

“Daehyun.”

Crap.

Your empty hand shot back to your side as your gaze snapped to the source of the voice, Daehyun’s following suit less quickly. Jungkook was shutting the door of the guest house behind him, dark eyes fixed on the hand on your shoulder. His voice had been low, the threat in them evident. Yet, Daehyun smiled, instead taking his time in removing his hand from your shoulder and taking a step back. 

“Jungkook,” he nodded, his hands returning to his pockets, “your wife and I were just having a small chat.”

You searched the space behind Jungkook, finding no sign of your father. The guest house had two exits, one that led into Jungkook’s estate and another that led outside of it. Your father must have gone through the latter. 

Jungkook gained your attention once again when he took a few steps forward, his sharp gaze fixed on Daehyun, “you can talk without touching.”

Daehyun raised his hands in mock surrender as Jungkook paused in front of you, scanning you from head to toe for a second, before he grabbed your wrist and began dragging you away from him, barely sparing him another glance as he started on the stone pathway you knew led to his mansion. There was this one patch of the pathway that you noticed hid the two of you from the attentive eyes of the guards. You took that opportunity to drop your act of innocence. 

“Cousin of yours?” You asked with an eyebrow raised. 

“Unfortunately.”

Your brows furrowed as you watched Jungkook spit out the word through gritted teeth, keeping his face forward. He was angry. He didn’t like Daehyun, you realised. Yet he seemed to have free access to his house? That didn’t make any sense.

You watched the patch eventually give way to a large circular driveway that laid before the front doors of Jungkook’s mansion. There was a sleek black car already parked on the grey concrete, obscured slightly by the fountain in the circle’s centre. It probably had something to do with what Jungkook was talking about earlier, about how there was somewhere the two of you would be going. 

With your innocent facade back up, because you noticed guards milling around this part of the estate, you turned to Jungkook with a curious look, “where are we going?”

He paused for a moment as his gaze dropped on you, and you immediately knew he was choosing his next words carefully, making sure to pick the ones that only allowed you to know as much as he wanted you to. 

“We’re going to meet some families,” he finally answered, but you’d already become distracted as you noticed a guard walk up to the window of the black car and begin speaking with the driver, the exposed gun at his hip suddenly looking very attractive to you especially after your failed attempt at snatching Daehyun’s. 

“And why is that?” You asked him absentmindedly, wondering if there was any way you could grab the weapon. You’d only need to brush past the guard for a moment to grab and shove it into the holster at your thigh. You knew the frills of your dress would do an amazing job at hiding its outline as well, even from eyes like Jungkook’s.

“There was an accident at the West Docks and a few workers died. We’re going to meet with the families and pay our respects.”

Your attention snapped back to Jungkook, the reminder to keep your expression light coming just a millisecond too late. It was a practically microscopic reaction, but it was enough for Jungkook to pick up on, making him tilt his head in question.

“I’m sorry, what?” You asked without much thought, because you honestly didn’t have anything smarter to say. Why was a mafia leader paying respects to people who weren't part of the family?

You weren't an idiot; it was no coincidence that Jungkook mentioned an incident taking place at the docks around the same time he had a meeting with your father in which he was mentioning Park Jimin’s name. You’d pieced together that said “incident” was more likely some kind of attack, and the one responsible for said attack was probably Park Jimin. If Jimin had attacked Jungkook’s docks, then that meant he was testing how strong the Jeons were at the moment, which further meant that he was interested in taking over the territory. Obviously Jungkook would have wanted to ensure that he had your father’s support if things were to escalate. 

People would have died in the attack at the West Docks, that’s how it always worked. Hell, people died at the borders all the time in the South since there was so much animosity between the territories there. 

But that’s just how things worked, or at least that’s what you’d heard mafia leaders parrot to each other growing up. “They knew what they were signing up for.” “They’re doing it for the sake of the mafia.” It was the kind of thinking that you loathed, and that exact thinking that you hoped to dismantle bit by bit until everyone, not just you, could see the flaws behind it. 

Yet… here Jungkook was, saying he wanted to value those lives lost by paying respects to their mourning families…

It was unbelievable. 

However, before either of you could speak, the door of the parked car opened to reveal a man wearing a standard suit. He stepped out onto the concrete, only to turn around in his place and open the door to the backseat. He continued to stay like that, patiently waiting for the two of you. 

Jungkook was the first to move, walking around the car to open the door himself and disappear behind the sleek black metal, while you eventually followed behind him, giving the man a soft thank you before sinking into the backseat beside your husband. In a matter of seconds, the doors were shut and you felt the car begin to move beneath you. 

There was an unfamiliar silence as you peered through the tinted windows, watching as the car passed through the front gates before submerging into a thick forest. The four days you’ve been at Jungkook’s mansion had been full of constant bickering, that was until someone else would enter the room. Then suddenly you were clasping your hands in front of you and bowing with a soft smile, all while Jungkook hid his cocky grins. 

“What? No snappy comebacks today?” Jungkook spoke, probably feeling the uncharacteristic silence as well. Despite noticing that there was a divider between the driver and you both, meaning there was no reason for you to keep your act up, you didn’t answer. 

You didn’t know why his earlier words weren’t sitting well with you. Just because Jungkook dropped a few condolences here and there didn’t make him a good person. He was the leader of a mafia after all, and you’d met enough of them to know the kind of people they were: cruel, merciless, and lacking in respect for the ones outside their families. Even the level of care they had for their families was questionable. 

But still… this was throwing you off.

You turned around in your seat as a sudden thought came to mind, causing Jungkook’s gaze to shift from the window to your form. 

“What do you mean by paying respect?” You asked. Perhaps the phrase meant something different in the North. Perhaps instead of meeting the families and expressing empathy for their loss, he was going to lecture them on the need for martyrs and how the families owed the Jeons for letting them live in their territories. Yes, that made a lot more sense to you. 

Jungkook, on the other hand, was looking at you as if you’d gone insane. 

“I won’t even begin to answer that question,” he scoffed. But then he seemed to consider something for a moment, probably the fact that you would also be the one paying respects and not knowing what that was might be a hindrance to his perfect image, and spoke with an annoyed sigh, “we will be meeting with the families, relaying a few comforting words. Let them know that we will be supporting them from now on so they can focus solely on overcoming their grief rather than on how they’ll make ends meet moving forward.”

You turned back to your window with a frustrated breath, his answer doing nothing to dissipate your confusion. You might have also faced away from him to hide a stifled yawn. Car rides tended to make you sleepy, and in combination with the fact that you haven’t slept properly throughout your stay at the Jeon Mansion, it was taking a lot of willpower to keep your mind alert at the moment. 

“Considering that this will be our first official public appearance, I should also repeat how crucial it will be for you to act like a good wife.”

You rolled your eyes as a huff escaped your lips, “Yeah, I get it.”

“If you getting it means you’ll act better than the way you acted in front of your father, then good,” he commented, which made you turn to him once again with a brow raised. 

“What is that supposed to mean? I was fine in front of my father.”

Jungkook shrugged, “you could have been better.”

“How?”

He thought for a moment, mulling it over before he responded with an amused look, “when you were leaving the room, you stood up and just let my hand fall away to the side. Some would take that as a sign that you’re mad at me.”

“I am not going to kiss the ground you walk on just so that a few jobless people will keep their mouths shut,” you shot back. If you were having any qualms about killing him earlier they were entirely gone now. You were going to enjoy each and every moment of gutting the man at your side, not even the slightest hint of guilt.

“Not to mention how quiet you were,” he continued, but this time you could feel the weight of his gaze deepen, “you do know that we’ll have to actually speak to the families, right?”

There was a silent curiosity in his eyes that he didn’t voice, but you knew it was there, though for what exactly it was for you didn’t know. Was he questioning why you were so quiet? If that were the case, you didn’t have an answer; you hadn’t even realised you’d been so quiet during the meeting. Or was he curious about Hannah? You doubted it. With all the research he had done on the Lees and your territory, you guessed he already knew who she was. 

“Relax, Jungkook,” you waved him off, “I’ve been acting as someone else for years. You’ll get your nice and loving wife.”

With that settled you turned back to the window, stifling another yawn with your hand. 

-

-

-

The first thing you notice when you wake up is the fact that you were actually waking up, meaning that at some point during the ride you had fallen asleep. The second thing you noticed as you were waking up was that whatever thing you were leaning on did not feel like the inner side of a car door. That second realisation had you sitting up in your seat instantly, eyes shooting open to understand the situation. 

Outside you could see that there were no longer thick-trunked trees surrounding the road in which you drove on, instead replaced by groups of houses and small apartment buildings. You watched as kids playing in the roughened streets stopped to stare at the sleek black car, their parents no different as they tried to see through the tinted windows with unfiltered curiosity. 

You turned away from the window to take in Jungkook, whose shoulder you realised you’d made your pillow while you’d fallen asleep, only to have your eyes widen. 

To your surprise, Jungkook had fallen asleep as well, with his head resting back against the headrest and lips just slightly parted. Small puffs of breath rhythmically escaped from between them when he exhaled, a telltale sign that he truly was asleep and not just resting his eyes or something. 

The image had you frozen for a moment. He looked so… peaceful. Not that he always looked stressed out. Despite having a killer for a wife, Jungkook seemed to be pretty relaxed most of the time, amused even. But this was a different kind of peace, one that came with a complete lack of thoughts, making him look almost innocent - not the hard leader that you knew him to be. 

Without his gaze on yours preventing it, you also noticed things that you’d never really noticed about him before. Like the length of his eyelashes, or the strong dip of his jawline. His lips had a red undertone and rounded into a slight pout, while his skin was flawless - not a very common characteristic amongst leaders, though not many were as young as Jungkook - aside from the end of a faded scar peeking from behind the collar of his black shirt. The side of his hair that was facing you was slightly ruffled, as if his head had been leaning against something before it had moved to lean against the seat behind him. 

God this man was fine. 

You forced your gaze forward, realising that you were staring. Were you really so deprived that you were finding the man that you were supposed to kill hot? Well, in your defence, you had eyes. Also in your defence, the leaders in the South were all old and slimy dudes that should have been put down years ago. Just looking at Jungkook was like a breath of fresh air after drowning.

But then you paused, realising the weight of the situation. Jungkook was asleep, the same Jungkook who you knew had a gun wedged into his waistband at this very moment. It was risky, he’d definitely notice it missing when he woke up considering his attention to detail, but if you were to grab the gun, and then immediately get out of the car, he’d have no choice but to let you hold onto it until the two of you were out of the public’s eye. It would be more than enough time to secretly kill him and then plant evidence incriminating Jimin. 

Judging from the houses outside, you deemed that you both were close enough to the destination that you could hop out of the car immediately after it stopped. So you turned around, making sure to keep your movements as slow as possible, before you snaked an arm around his torso. You could feel the soft inside of his black blazer as your hand slipped beneath it, fingers just barely ghosting over his equally black dress shirt. It was unlucky that his gun was on the side of his waist facing away from you, but thankfully after checking to make sure he was still asleep, which he was, your fingers wrapped around the metal handle. 

Or at least you thought he had been asleep, because as you pulled the gun from its confines, a hand suddenly engulfing yours made you flinch. 

Your gaze snapped up to him, surprised when you found him wide awake and staring back at you. In all honesty, it wasn’t the fact that you were caught that had you frozen like a deer in headlights, Jungkook was well aware of your intentions, but rather the position that you were in. You’d used your left hand to grab his gun, which left your entire front to be pressed against his chest, while your right hand was resting on his other side, practically caging him against the seat of the car. Barely a breath’s distance separated your face with his, making the intensity of his stare all the more intimidating. 

You tried to pull away from him, but his hand brushed higher to wrap around your wrist and keep you in place, dark brown eyes still boring into yours.

“Put it back.”

It shouldn’t have, but the deepness of his voice sent a tiny shiver down your spine, one that you did everything in your power to make sure Jungkook couldn’t notice. You’d rather be caught dead than having Jungkook think you were into him in any way whatsoever. 

A small part of you, the same one that had persuaded you to drop a good amount of garlic into his cologne just yesterday, also reasoned that you’d never be caught dead taking orders from him as well. Logically speaking, there was no way you could save this attempt at taking his gun, he’d caught you and that was that. And yet, despite that, you didn’t move, hand still clutching the gun which was now hovering over his waistband. 

You felt Jungkook’s fingers tighten slightly around the soft skin of your wrist, the lack of your movement not going unnoticed by him. 

“Put it back, Y/N.”

It only made you want to do the opposite, just to piss him off a bit more, but you knew you were only delaying the inevitable. So, with the tiny devil at your shoulder retreating back to wherever it had come from and with a frustrated breath escaping your lips, you slowly pushed the gun back into his waistband. The action was slow, still dragging it out for as long as possible, until you felt the trigger guard push against the edge of the cloth. Yet, even when you let the handle drop from your grasp, Jungkook’s hand didn’t drop from your wrist. Instead, the edges of his lips twitched upwards.

“So we’ve moved on from poisons now?” He asked instead, voice low as his satisfied gaze stayed fixed on yours, “is my whiskey finally free from your terror?”

Your reply was quick, though your voice was just as low and breathy as his, “I wouldn’t start trusting it just yet.”

You really meant that, considering the new bottles of whiskey Jungkook had ordered had already been spiked not even an hour after they’d been placed in his cabinet. You knew that he knew, making the action pointless, but you were weak in front of that little devil at your shoulder. 

The abrupt sound of the car’s door opening made you jerk back into your seat, ripping your empty hand from Jungkook’s, as you quickly fixed the ruffles in your dress. By the time the driver’s face appeared at the doorway, you were offering him an innocent smile, making sure to keep your eyes bright and lips stuck in a perpetually delighted turn. An amused breath escaped Jungkook as he turned to open his own door. You hadn’t even realised that the car had come to a stop. 

You accepted the driver’s hand as he extended it towards you, the short heel of your white shoes tapping against the grey concrete while you stepped out of the car, grateful suddenly for the fresh air. 

You didn’t know what exactly you were expecting when Jungkook had said that you were going to meet with families. Mostly you had pictured a stage, one that he would stand and speak on, and then a crowd of families standing before it paying close attention to his every word. But there was no such stage in sight, in fact, as you looked around the area you noticed that there was nothing out of the ordinary; just a simple neighbourhood with kids playing in the cracked street and parents standing in their worn front porches. Everyone was staring though, curious eyes staying fixed on Jungkook, and then on you. 

It was a bit daunting if you were being entirely honest with yourself. Yes, you were the daughter of a mafia leader, but you’d never actually been made to make public appearances like this, much less speak at them. Daughters of leaders were more like decoration pieces, hidden away until they were married off. 

Jungkook rounded the car until he was standing at your side, an arm wrapping snuggly around your waist. The action had been hesitant, as if he expected you to push him away or flinch at the touch, but you were beyond trying to fight whatever image of perfection Jungkook was trying to sell; there were bigger issues you needed to worry about now. And maybe a tiny part of you found comfort in it as you noticed all the eyes that were on you now. It was your first public appearance in the Jeon Territory after all, everyone would be curious about the Jeon Jungkook’s new wife. You needed to appear shy for the sake of your act, but you were still able to notice the mixed reactions, some confused, some sceptical, but most were just surprised. 

Jungkook also seemed to be scanning the crowd before he turned towards you, whispering the words in your ear, “let’s get going.”

You didn’t have time to notice the fuss that action had caused in a group of girls before you both began following a guard into a house on your right. He guided you through the doorway, the door already wide open, as you made your way towards what seemed like a living room. The space had a homey vibe, pictures of the family scattered across the walls and lit candles placed on the tables, but it was clear that whoever lived here was struggling: the paint was peeling off the walls, the wooden floor was littered with scuffs and dents, and the furniture looked a day away from crumbling. It pained your heart to see the kitchen barren. 

It was only when you and Jungkook managed to squeeze into the small living room that you finally noticed signs of life. There was an old woman sitting on the only sofa in the room, her expression dejected while her form was hunched forward in a way that you knew was a result of grief and not old age. At the sound of your footsteps her head raised, taking in the two of you with pained eyes. 

You had to mask your surprise when you watched Jungkook lower himself onto a knee before her, “hello Mrs. Hwang.”

The woman, Mrs. Hwang, ignored the greeting, instead shaking her head while keeping her gaze on the hands resting in her lap, “I don’t understand. They keep telling me he’s gone, but I just don’t understand… How could he be gone? How could my beautiful son be gone? What happened to him?”

“Mrs. Hwang,” Jungkook said slowly, his brows pulling together in sympathy, “your son and a few other workers were killed in a construction accident at the West Docks. I’m sorry.”

The tears that had been swimming in her eyes finally began to stream down her cheeks, the news coming from the leader of the Jeons finally confirming what she had seemingly been denying for a while, but you could only try to fan the flames of the anger that ignited in your chest. There was no construction accident, there had been an attack orchestrated by Jimin, and normal people who had nothing to do with the territorial feud had suffered the consequences. This poor woman, for example, had lost her son. She deserved to know the real reason he was gone, deserved to belt out her anger at the actual people responsible, not be fed a cover-up story you knew was only being promoted in order to prevent public unrest.

You watched as Jungkook tried to reassure her, his words artfully compassionate and reassuring, wondering just how much of those words he actually meant. He probably didn’t mean many of them, if any at all. Perhaps this was the method in which he maintained his power? Leaders in the South usually asserted their power by ensuring the public feared them, scaring them so much that even the thought of betrayal had them shaking in fear. But Jungkook was a smart man. Perhaps he realised that being loved by the public was a better method of manipulation, one that produced more loyalty. 

You’d been so deep in thought that when you felt the tap of Jungkook’s black dress shoe on your white ones you almost flinched. He was looking up at you with a pointed look, and it was then that you realised that the woman was staring at you as well, as if she were waiting for you to speak. Jungkook’s words, genuine or not, seemed to have stopped the tears that had been flowing down her cheeks while you’d been distracted because there was almost nothing left of them except the water staining her cheeks. 

Sensing your confusion, Jungkook gave Mrs. Hwang a strained smile, “you must excuse her, she’s still getting used to the North. It can be overwhelming at times.”

Mrs. Hwang nodded in understanding before she turned to face you once again. 

“That’s okay dear. I was just wondering how married life has been treating you. My husband passed away so long ago yet I still find myself missing the companionship even now.”

Oh… 

That was not the kind of question you hesitate at if you want people to get a good impression of your and Jungkook’s relationship, and the look on Jungkook’s face at the moment only confirmed those thoughts. 

“It’s been treating me well,” you answered finally, hesitating on what the right thing to say would be in this situation, “he’s been very good to me.”

It was the wrong thing to say, you realised that at the exact moment Jungkook grimaced and tears started to stream down Mrs. Hwang’s face once again. She nodded in your direction, “my husband treated me well too. How I miss him… And now my son is gone as well, who do I have left?”

Your voice died in your throat, mind unable to come up with anything that could possibly comfort the bawling woman who had lost so much. All you could do was stand dumbly and watch her crumble before you, wishing you could crawl into a hole and stay there forever hidden. 

Jungkook, on the other hand, immediately placed a hand on her knee and began to reassure her once again, comforting words falling from his lips like a gentle stream. He reminded her of how her son and husband were in a better place now, of the friends she still has in the neighbourhood, and then of her granddaughter who needed her to be strong. 

At the mention of her granddaughter, the door of the living room suddenly smacked open, revealing a little girl skipping into the room. She was wearing a sparkly pink shirt and washed out jeans which were fraying at the edges, while a worn doll hung from her fingers. Despite this, there was a bright smile on her face as she walked deeper into the room. 

The sight of Jungkook slowed her down in her tracks, replacing the once innocent smile with a deep blush painting her cheeks. Her gaze shifted away from him, clearly shy from her sudden crush. But then she caught sight of her grandmother and her gaze became worried. She made her way to her side quickly before gently placing the doll on her grandmother’s lap, also placing a comforting hand on her arm.

“Don’t cry grandma,” she said with a frown, using her other hand to push a few strands of her grandmother’s hair behind her ear. The girl turned in Jungkook’s direction, though the blush was back and her eyes wouldn’t meet his, “I keep telling her not to be sad, but she keeps crying.”

It was then when she caught sight of someone else in the room, making her turn to face in your direction. Her reaction was immediate, eyes lighting up in excitement as she took in your dress, then your shoes, and then your makeup. The girl quickly jumped from the side of the sofa and skipped over to you, eyes wide in childlike amazement. 

“Your dress!” She squealed, continuing to skip in a circle around you as she scanned you from top to bottom, “it’s so pretty! I’m going to ask Daddy to get me one just like it when he comes back!”

The last sentence felt like a hammer to your chest, and you could see Jungkook’s expression also sadden from behind her. How long would it take this little girl to realise that her father would not be coming back? That his life had been taken from him only because of the cruel way in which this world was structured?

Before you could think much of it, you slowly lowered yourself to the ground, knees touching the cold wood as you became eye to eye with the excited girl before you. It gave her the opportunity to marvel at your hair and the light sparkles on your eyelids, her small hand brushing against the frills of your dress softly as her excitement only heightened. 

“You look just like a princess!” She continued. But then a thought seemed to strike her, suddenly making her shy, “do you think I could grow up to be a princess like you one day?”

You smiled at her, using every bit of your self control not to cry for this little girl and her innocence, “I think you’ll grow up to be an even prettier princess one day.”

Her smile brightened again, her confidence restored in that quick way only a child’s confidence could. You wanted that confidence to stick though, knowing just how quickly the cruelty of this world could destroy it . 

“But do you want me to tell you a little secret?” You asked, to which she nodded hastily, also desperate in that way only children were. 

“You don’t need pink dresses and sparkles to be a princess.” You gently took hold of her hand, giving her tiny fingers a comforting squeeze. This new information seemed to shock her, her eyes widening as a surprised gasp escaped her lips, “what matters is your heart. Your grandmother lost someone very dear to her, and she’ll need someone to help her get through her sadness.”

The girl straightened up immediately, chin rising as if to meet the challenge head on, “don’t worry, Daddy always makes me in charge of helping grandma. I’ll always take care of her.”

“That’s very responsible of you,” you praised.

“I am! I’m very-” She struggled with the words for a moment until she finally seemed to manage the beast, “responsible!”

An amused breath escaped your lips at her childish confidence, despite the sorrow tugging at your heartstrings. 

“And when you realise what you’ve lost,” you continued, this time speaking to the girl she will become when the devastating news finally hits her, “your grandma will be there to get you through it as well. You won’t be alone, okay?”

She nodded innocently, the weight of your words flying over her head. But that was okay, she’d realise their meaning when the time came. You could only hope that they would provide at least some comfort when it really mattered. 

Without another thought, you reached behind your head to unravel the silky pink ribbon in your hair, making sure to smooth it out before you held it out to her. She squealed in delight, grabbing the ribbon and softly running a hand over the silk material. 

But then she suddenly looked up from it and threw her arms around your neck, the spontaneity of the action causing you to flinch. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She continued to squeal, “I think you’re the best princess in the world!”

With her chin laying on your shoulder, your gaze automatically met Jungkook’s as your hands hesitantly raised to rest on her back. He was still kneeling in front of Mrs. Hwang, but his hand had dropped from her knee to his own, realising that it was unneeded as a fond smile was overtaking her expression at the sight of her happy granddaughter. Jungkook’s expression was unreadable as he watched the girl jump excitedly in your embrace. 

The two of you only stayed a few minutes longer, only because the girl had insisted that you tie the ribbon in her hair, before Jungkook stood and cleared his throat, a clear sign that you both should get going. You hadn’t even realised how heavy the atmosphere had been in the house until you were walking through the doorway, finally able to take in a full breath of fresh air. A guard was already standing before the front door, turning around to lead you both to the next house when he noticed your presence. 

“Well… that was interesting,” Jungkook commented, his face turning in your direction to meet your gaze. 

You were quiet as you followed behind him, making sure to pull your act back up in the process. You hadn’t realised that it had sort of dropped when you began speaking to the girl, the heat of the moment enough to make you forget. 

You didn’t turn to meet his gaze, instead scanning the area and people that surrounded you both as you spoke, “I’m not very good at it.”

His head tilted in question. 

In hindsight, you should have told him earlier, but perhaps you were a tiny bit embarrassed of it. Now, though, the cat was out of the bag, so there was no point in trying to hide it from him now.

“The wife thing? The hugging and laughing and kissing? I can do that,” you finally admitted, “but comforting? I’m not the best at it.”

That was an understatement, but you were sure Jungkook probably knew that by now. His gaze felt heavy as he watched you for a moment, studying your expression. Then he turned away, keeping his eyes fixed before him as he spoke words you were not expecting in the slightest.

“You did alright.”

-

-

-

It was early in the evening when you and Jungkook finally visited the last house, the sun just barely visible above the horizon when you had crossed over the street to follow behind the guard for the last time today. You had visited at least 20 houses, all of which weighed your heart down more and more until you had felt like you were dragging it against the concrete beneath you. Some had lost their son, their brother, their husband, all of whom were important not only because they were loved, but also because they had been the sole provider of the family. You committed each grief-filled face to memory, promising that pain like that would be a thing of the past. 

It only made you more determined to accomplish your goal. 

Now you stood behind Jungkook as he spoke to a woman in her kitchen, listening attentively to her describe the kind man that was her late husband with a bittersweet fondness. His expression was sympathetic as she spoke, nodding every so often with a gentle smile, while the woman thanked him again and again for being here and helping them. 

If your observations proved anything, people certainly respected him around here. Whenever he would pass by in the street or when he spoke with the families, you watched many bow in his presence or express their gratitude for him. But no one ever invaded his space, and they definitely didn’t try to speak to him unless spoken to. It was all in all a respectful appreciation for the man they thought was a good leader. It was such an odd sight to you, being so used to people in the South trembling in fear in the presence of a leader, that it seemed almost foreign. 

Your gaze travelled around the room as you continued to stand with your hands clasped in front of yourself, casually surveying the small area while simultaneously making sure to absently follow the conversation in case you were spoken to. After your visit to the first house, you’d decided that it was best if you stayed as quiet as possible seeing as you were a trainwreck when it came to comforting people. Sure, you’d sort of saved yourself when you had spoken to the little girl, but you had clearly said the wrong things when you’d spoken to Mrs. Hwang. It was an embarrassing shortcoming on your part, but you also couldn’t really blame yourself. It’s not like you had any examples from when you were growing up to draw on. 

You were pulled from your thoughts, however, when you noticed a quick shadow flit in your peripheral vision, making you discreetly turn your head in that direction. For a moment, the doorway in which your gaze had settled on was empty aside from a guard who stood still in front of it, to the point that you thought you had imagined it. But then a fluffy black tail slithered from behind the wall, making you freeze in place. The tail brushed against the wooden floor before its owner turned around, the familiar face and collar moving into view. 

Persilla’s feline eyes stayed fixed on you as she sat herself down for a moment, tilting her head as she watched you meet her gaze in surprise. She was going completely unnoticed by everyone else in the room, though that part didn’t surprise you. That cat was a master of camouflage after all. She was only seen when she wanted to be. 

Which was why her presence had you wondering what she was doing here. 

The answer to that question came when she suddenly stood, walking dangerously close to the guard as she crossed him and made her way into the hallway slowly. She easily blended into the shadows as she paused and turned back for a moment, making sure that you were still watching her, before she finally slipped into one of the rooms which had a door that was slightly ajar. 

The message was clear to you: she wanted you to follow her. 

You glanced at Jungkook and the woman, who were still deep in conversation thankfully, before you silently shuffled to the doorway where the guard was standing idly. 

“Excuse me?” You spoke, voice soft as a feather. The man’s firm gaze shifted to you, “is there a bathroom anywhere that I could use?”

You could feel Jungkook sneak a glance in your direction, but the woman was still speaking with him, keeping him occupied. You’d made sure to keep your voice loud enough so that he could hear the bathroom excuse though, not wanting him to suspect anything. 

The guard nodded and began to guide you down the same hall Persilla had walked through. Then, to your relief, he stopped in front of the door she had disappeared behind, unknowingly making your life much easier. 

“Thank you,” you smiled at him before walking into the bathroom and closing the door behind you. You immediately began to survey the small space, taking in the toilet and small sink, but your brows furrowed when you failed to find your favourite black cat. 

You kneeled before the sink to open the cabinet underneath it, frowning when it also was empty. 

“Persilla?” You whispered, so silently you could barely hear yourself. 

That was when you took notice of the window beside the sink. It was high up and blurred, but what really made you pause was the fact that it was open. Perhaps Persilla had jumped out of it before you’d entered the room? If she was expecting you to follow her, though, she clearly underestimated your size…

You flinched backwards when she suddenly dropped from said window, paws soundlessly making contact with the tiles before she circled your form. When she was satisfied she sat in front of you, showing you her neck. Once again, wedged between her fur and collar, was a small folded piece of paper. 

“He better not make a messenger out of you,” you practically mouthed with a grumble before you reached out and slipped the note from her collar, unfolding it curiously. The handwriting was familiar as your eyes scanned through the words, though there was only one person the note could be from anyway. 

I heard he has a knack for detail, so I’m assuming that’s why it’s not done yet. No problem. But we really should meet soon, there’s something I need to tell you. (I would’ve let myself in now, but your husband is waiting right outside the door so I had to make good use of Persilla) 

~ H

P.S. I left you a little gift in the toilet tank. I think you might like it. 

Your brows furrowed at the last part, gaze immediately shifting to the toilet in the corner of the room. It was a standard two piece, one with a removable back cover that made it easier to access the tank. 

You pushed yourself off the tiled floor and made your way towards it before grabbing the heavy cover and hauling it upwards with a strained huff, eyes immediately scanning the inside. There were shiny metal pipes intersecting with each other and valves protruding in some places, but it was a black handle wedged between the mess that caught your eye. You grabbed it and pulled it out of the tank, easing the cover back into place with a smile. 

Finally…

Delight was all you could feel as you rotated the shiny new handgun in your hand, taking in its familiar shape. You pressed against the release button first, catching the magazine expertly in your other hand as it popped out of the handle and checked its contents. It was full of ammunition, allowing you to push it back into the gun in satisfaction. Then your attention shifted to the silencer that had been screwed into the gun’s barrel. It wouldn’t entirely silence a shot, but it was still better than nothing and it could definitely come in handy. He knew you well, didn’t he…

You unscrewed the silencer from the gun and then shoved both into the holster at your thigh, making sure to smooth over your dress quickly. One look in the mirror had you satisfied, even eyes like Jungkook’s wouldn’t be able to tell there was a gun concealed under here. He would have no clue what was coming. 

You crouched down to scratch Persilla’s chin, promising her some good salmon for being such a good girl, before she jumped out the window and scurried off. Unable to contain your own curiosity you walked over to the window and gave it a quick glance, but there was no one in sight. 

Just as you had been told, Jungkook was standing right outside the door when you opened it after flushing the toilet and washing your hands to give the illusion that you’d really used the bathroom. You weren’t surprised when you watched his eyes dart behind you to carefully scan the bathroom, but you knew there was nothing to see. Everything that mattered was now strapped to your thigh discreetly hidden underneath your dress. 

“Checking the bathroom after a lady uses it is a bit much, don’t you think?” You couldn’t help but comment, keeping your expression innocent as you noticed the guard standing patiently at the end of the hallway. 

Jungkook’s eyes narrowed in your direction, but there was an amused turn to his lips. You maintained your expression as you felt his arm wrap around yours and pull you closer, whispering the words into your ear as he began to guide you out of the house, “and trying to kill your husband isn’t?”

“A woman can’t have hobbies?”

He steered you along the street, passing by crowds of people who stood at a distance around the neighbourhood, as you both made your way back to the car. Because of that you had to keep a smile on your face as you spoke, despite the nature of your words. 

Jungkook raised an eyebrow to pair with his smile, aware of the crowd’s eyes on you both. There was no doubt that, through their eyes, you both looked like a nice couple speaking about nice things, far from the truth of course, “there are many husbands that wouldn’t be so understanding about your particular hobby. I think I deserve some credit.”

“Dead men don’t get credit.”

“Good thing I’m not dead yet, princess.”

You wished you could shoot him a nasty glare to wipe the cocky grin off his face, but you could only watch him innocently as he opened the door of the black car and waited for you to get in, an arm resting on the top of the car’s door nonchalantly. Taking the opportunity, you placed a hand on his shoulder, giving the impression that you were thanking him for the gesture, but instead said, “I wouldn’t count on that for long.”

Jungkook shut the door behind you in amusement after you sat in the car, ready to join you in the backseat until he felt his phone vibrate suddenly against his thigh. He stayed standing on your side of the car, resting a hand over its top as his other hand went to grab the phone out of his pocket and bring it to his ear. 

“What have you got for me?” He asked, casually surveying the area as he waited for a response. His brows furrowed when he heard the person on the other end of the line hesitate before he spoke. 

“Hello sir,” he finally said, to which Jungkook huffed, knowing whatever was about to be said wasn’t going to please him.

“Out with it, I don’t have all day.”

The man on the other end of the line sighed, “I was just contacted by the informant who has been working on what you ordered him to do…”

Jungkook frowned, remembering how he’d asked the informant to investigate your room and the man you’d been having hushed phone calls with before your marriage. He had wondered why it was taking the informant so long to get back to him, but Jungkook trusted the informant with his life, that’s why he had placed him in the Lee mansion in the first place. If things were being delayed, there was a reason. 

One that was about to be explained to him right now. 

“The informant just told me that he wasn’t able to identify the man.”

Jungkook’s grip on his phone tightened at the news, brows furrowing even further, “what?”

“He said he searched through Mrs. Y/N’s room from top to bottom, but was unable to find anything out of the ordinary, nor anything related to the mystery man. Then he traced her prior phone calls, but none led to anywhere significant. The only thing the informant was able to figure out was that the man goes by the letter H.”

Jungkook mulled over the information for a moment, tapping his finger against the hood of the car while deep in thought. H… that was practically nothing to go by. Why were you talking to a man that seemed so untraceable? What did he have to hide? What did you have to hide?

Jungkook’s jaw ticked. 

“What do you mean tracing the phone calls led to nowhere significant?”

“He explained that the locations were all scattered. Some were in the South, some were in the North, some were in the western and eastern regions, and a couple were even outside the country altogether,” he explained, then seemed to hesitate on his next words, “the informant mentioned that there were a couple locations that may seem slightly promising, but he admitted that he doubts they would prove to be very useful.”

“Tell him to send you the locations, and then send some men to check them out,” Jungkook said immediately.

His gaze dropped on you, who was already staring back at him from your seat. 

“That man is not a ghost. We’ll find him, whether he likes it or not.”

-

-

-

Unlike earlier, you nor Jungkook slept as the car raced through the highway, nothing but the darkness of night visible from outside of the window aside from the occasional streetlamp. You’d already been on the road for about an hour or two, the entirety of the trip drenched in silence. 

Jungkook clearly had something on his mind, you could tell from the way his eyes were clouded over in thought as they stayed glued to the window. You hadn’t been able to hear what he’d talked about on the phone, so you’d settled for deciphering his expressions. He’d seemed frustrated by something he’d been told, that was as much as you could make out. 

The weight of the gun on your thigh felt heavy, the need to grab it and use it itching against your fingers. Technically speaking, you had an opportunity right at this very moment. You could shoot Jungkook dead, bang on the divider to get the driver to stop the car, and then shoot him dead too before he put two and two together. It would be simple, and you’d also be able to run to the nearest sign of life and dramatically explain how a man associated with Park Jimin had hijacked the car and killed Jungkook and the driver, leaving you alive to relay the message. They’d buy that in a second. It would be perfect.

The only thing holding you back was the fact that you would have to kill the driver. Jungkook was a mafia leader, and mafia leaders were cruel and merciless. He deserved what was coming. But this driver… he was just a guy doing his job. He might even have a family waiting for him at home, and after the day you’d had, the thought of another family losing someone dear to them made you squirm in your seat.

Realistically, you knew your goal couldn’t be complete without the deaths of a few innocents. But even that thought wasn’t enough to get your fingers to grab the gun at your thigh. A frustrated breath escaped your lips at the lack of your action, one that of course, didn’t go unnoticed by Jungkook. 

“Someone seems frustrated,” he commented, the first time either of you have spoken after entering the car. You rolled your eyes, refusing to face him. But Jungkook continued to observe you intensely, giving you the impression that he wasn’t ready to let the conversation end so easily this time. 

“You know, you seem so adamant on killing me,” he said slowly, “if I’m going to have my wife perpetually working on my death, I think I at least deserve to know why she’s so passionate for the cause.”

It didn’t go over your head that he was suddenly so interested in your intentions after that ominous phone call, and you had no problem calling him out on it, “I heard you had an interesting phone call earlier. Maybe you should focus on that instead.”

“I am. I’m trying to find a pesky man that goes by the letter H, you wouldn’t happen to know him would you?”

You froze, surprise freezing your limbs as you wondered where Jungkook had gotten that name from. Had you messed up somewhere? You’d burned the first note you received and flushed the second down the toilet, so there was no way he could have gotten hold of them. Besides that, you’d never uttered his name out loud since marrying Jungkook. No, there was no way he could have found out from you. 

Jungkook smiled, as if reading your thoughts, “it seems you do.”

You shrugged, trying to collect yourself, “H knows everyone and no one.”

“But you know him better than others. Tell me, is he the reason you want me dead?”

You turned to meet his gaze, the taunt in your voice evident, “maybe you should find him and ask him yourself.”

“I will. He won’t be able to hide from me forever.”

You chuckled, answer instant, “doubtful.”

That made Jungkook tilt his head at you, an evident question. 

“He’s only found when he wants to be found. Otherwise, he’ll have you running in circles like a clueless pet.”

For some reason your words seemed to irritate Jungkook as you noticed his gaze narrow.

“You seem pretty fond of him.”

You didn’t answer, your gaze instead drifting back to the window. Up until now you’d been driving through a thick forest, the concrete road surrounded by enormous trees that seemed to extend into the sky. But the window on Jungkook’s side showcased the trees starting to dwindle, empty patches emerging in the thicket occasionally until they finally gave way to a grand view of the ocean. If you squinted your eyes enough you could make out a large docks system in the distance, full of enormous ships and warehouses. 

The view had caught your eye though, distracting you from the sorry excuse of a conversation you were having with Jungkook. It was the light that had initially caught your attention, more specifically the sheer intensity of it. The docks were lined with the same street lamps that were brightening the road you were currency driving on, yet it looked like someone dropped the sun into one of the warehouses. 

At first you thought perhaps you were overthinking it, but then Jungkook followed your line of sight, peering critically through the window for a moment before he suddenly sat up straight. It was then that you saw it as well; at the edge of one of the warehouses, a roaring fire was beginning to destroy everything in its vicinity. It was only visible now because it had moved on from behind the warehouse, engulfing the structure itself at an alarming rate. 

A sudden explosion shook the docks, so powerful that you could feel the vibrations of the shock despite your distance from the area. At that moment you felt the car screech to a stop, the momentum pushing both you and Jungkook painfully against your seatbelts for a split second, before Jungkook’s phone suddenly started to ring. 

He picked it up on the first bell, not bothering to hide the call from you this time. You could hear loud sounds erupt from the phone the second the line was accepted, a man’s voice barely audible above the chaos. 

“What’s going on?” Jungkook asked hastily, eyes glued to the wreck. He looked as if he wanted to jump out of the car and run to it, but the distance was far too large for him to get there at any reasonable time. 

The man on the other line grunted for a moment, yelling orders to another before he shouted, “sir! There’s been a few explosions at the West Docks! Three of our warehouses have been destroyed, we’re trying to staunch the flames in the fourth one at the moment!”

“Forget it,” Jungkook shook his head immediately, “order thirty guards to the area to make sure there aren’t any actual threats around and to help out with the flames. And take anyone who’s injured to the hospital right away.”

“Of course, sir!” The man on the other line shouted instantly, but then he hesitated before he spoke again, “but sir… who could have done this?”

Jungkook was silent, and you knew you both were thinking of the same man’s name. 

“Just do as I’ve said. I want the least amount of casualties possible.”

There was an incoherent sound on the other end of the line that resembled a “yes sir” before it went dead. Jungkook’s hand instantly went to brush through his hair, the gears in his head clearly working overtime as he seemed to be deep in thought. Before you could say anything though, his phone rang again and this time your eyes widened as you got a clear view of the caller ID. It was the man that you both were thinking of not even a full minute ago. 

Park Jimin. 

This time Jungkook did wait to pick up the call, instead staring at the screen for a few seconds longer than he should have. The silence in the car stretched, nothing but the sound of his ringtone reverberating throughout the small space, as you noticed his muscles tense under his black suit and the grip on his phone tighten to a point that you were sure it would snap the thing in half. This was probably the most tense you’d ever seen him look. 

Jungkook finally grabbed the handle of the door and threw it open, stepping out of the car without so much as a sound. You watched him close the door behind him, only pausing for a moment to say something to the driver before you watched him disappear into the thick forest on your side of the road, leaving you and the driver alone in a dark and empty road. 

Wow… he really did not want you to hear that conversation. 

-

-

-

Jungkook cut through the trees of the forest, the sound of his ringtone practically mocking him as he continued to walk way deeper than he knew was necessary. He couldn’t help it. Park Jimin’s mere name angered him, and cutting through the trees of the forest was helping him direct that anger onto something unimportant. Because he wouldn’t be able to let it out on Jimin. He had to be calm, collected, and even amused in front of that bastard, nothing that could give away just how well Jimin managed to get under Jungkook’s skin. 

But he eventually came to a stop, realising that he couldn’t go traipsing through the forest forever. The phone still vibrated against his hand as he relaxed his muscles, slipping into the Jeon Jungkook that was unbothered and coolheaded. The one that wouldn’t allow Jimin to have the upper hand because of his practically ancient anger.

Jungkook brought the phone to his ear and, finally, accepted the call.

The line was quiet for a second, as if Jimin expected Jungkook to say the first greeting, but he was just as quiet, forcing Jimin to be the conversation initiator. 

“Hello Jungkook, I was just calling to confirm if you received my gift or not.”

His voice was just as melodically taunting as Jungkook remembered it from years ago, the words instantly causing him to clench his jaw. But he relaxed it once again, knowing that he needed to stay clear headed.

“All that just for me? I must say you flatter me, Jimin.”

“How can I not flatter an old friend?” And Jungkook could practically hear the smile in his voice, knowing how much the mention of old friend would make his blood boil. It did, but Jungkook pushed down the feeling of strangling him through the phone.

“But to what do I owe the pleasure of this sudden gift?” He asked, knowing full well what the attack meant. But he was interested in how Jimin would explain it, whether he would put it plainly or jump around the topic like a coward. 

The line was silent for a second, as if Jimin were choosing which angle he wanted to go by, before he finally spoke again. 

“Why don’t we speak about it over dinner?“

Jungkook’s eyes widened in surprise, the words catching him off guard. How could Jimin be inviting him over to his territory so easily, after years of silent animosity? Sure, Taehyung and Yoongi have been at each other’s throats the past few years, Taehyung constantly having to fight off the Mins at his border, but the border between the Parks and Jeons have been silent, much like their leaders. 

Jungkook’s brows furrowed, “you’re inviting me to the Park Territory?”

“Yes, I believe it’s time we settle a couple things, don’t you think?”

Settle a couple things was much too ambiguous of a phrase for Jungkook to decipher. Did he want to sort out the terms for a war? Or was Jimin beyond morality now and instead going straight to setting a trap? Jungkook wasn’t really sure what Jimin was capable of after the warehouse of bodies he’d witnessed a week ago. 

His doubts kept him from speaking, allowing nothing but the serene sounds of the dark forest around him to fill the silence. Jimin seemed to sense his hesitance, letting the silence stretch for only a few moments before he chuckled into the line. 

“Come on, Jungkook. What will it be?”

-

-

-

This was an opportunity.

Currently, your husband was alone, surrounded solely by trees, in an environment dark enough that you could very much get away with shooting him dead and not being blamed for it. You wouldn’t even need to shoot the driver to cover up your tracks, lessening your guilty conscience to a decent amount. It was perfect. The only issue now, was how you were going to get into the forest without arousing suspicion. 

You tapped on the divider, waiting only a couple seconds before you pulled the panel down to reveal the professionally dressed driver. 

“Excuse me? I need to use the bathroom,” you announced, trying to sound as urgent as possible while simultaneously keeping your voice naive. 

The driver, on the other hand, looked as though you’d slammed him in the stomach with a sledgehammer. 

“Ma’am…” He spoke hesitantly, “you’ll have to wait.”

“But I need to go nowww,” you whined, trying to put every bit of spoiled brat into your voice as you could. Then you turned your face towards the forest Jungkook had disappeared into, widening your eyes to give the impression that an idea had suddenly popped into your head, before turning back to face him, “I know! I’ll just go in the forest very quickly.”

Without a response, you pushed the door open and stepped out, causing the driver to scramble out of the car as well, pure panic washing over his expression at your determination. 

“Please ma’am! I can’t let you go out there in the dead of night.”

“Why?” You asked, sporting a confused, and very much dumb, look, “it’s fine! I’ll just go towards my husband. He’ll protect me.”

The mention of Jungkook seemed to visibly calm the man, though there was still a lingering hesitance in his expression, “let me walk you to him.”

You waved him off, praying that he let you go without a fuss. You didn’t want things to get more complicated than they needed to be, or it wouldn’t end well for the man before you, “he’s right at the edge, don’t worry! I saw him and everything!”

You turned around and began walking towards the thicket of trees and, to your utmost relief, you didn’t hear the sounds of the driver following. 

It took you about a minute of walking through the forest to realise that Jungkook was, in fact, not at its very edge, which left you trekking deeper into the thicket of trees, squinting as your eyes adjusted to the surrounding darkness. You could hear the occasional sound of a bird, that strange humm that always seemed to be present in the wilderness, and the skittering of small animals against fallen branches, but there was no sound of your own expert footsteps to your satisfaction. Jungkook wouldn’t be able to hear what was coming. 

Once you’d created a considerable distance between yourself and the driver, to the point that you were certain he would no longer be able to catch sight of you, your innocent smile dropped, replaced immediately by a look of focus as you reached for the gun at your thigh. 

Your gaze wasted no time in surveying the darkened wilderness around you, flickering down only briefly to double check the magazine once again. Your surroundings were still empty of human life, no signs of Jungkook anywhere near you for the time being. Your brows couldn’t help but furrow, wondering why he’d decided to go hiking to take one phone call, even if it was from Jimin. 

You grabbed the silencer from your holster and began to screw it onto the barrel, strolling until you caught the faint sight of a dark silhouette in the distance. The sight had you crouching instantly, fingers still twisting the silencer into the barrel as you began inching closer to the figure, using the thick trunks of the trees to hide yourself from view. The closer you got, the more the silhouette began to shape into Jungkook, his black hair falling into his eyes as his gaze was directed downwards while one hand held his phone up to his ear. 

You finally hid yourself behind a tree that was directly to his right, letting go of the now fully attached silencer to instead rest your finger against the trigger guard. You were close enough that you could hear his end of the conversation now, one that seemed to have just begun.

“All that just for me? I must say you flatter me, Jimin,” he said, voice cool and collected, but you could see the fist his other hand had become. 

Something about Jimin got under Jungkook’s skin, that was clear enough to you by now. But you wondered, why? Jungkook seemed like a man that was unmoved by a challenge, enjoyed them even, according to your observations these past four days and also according to his reaction to your presence. And yet, small attacks and calls from Jimin were enough to move him? No… there was something deeper to this reaction, something personal between Jimin and Jungkook that you didn’t know about. Some sort of history perhaps?

“But to what do I owe the pleasure of this sudden gift?”

You shook your head, ridding yourself of the thoughts. It didn’t matter anymore. You were about to shoot Jungkook dead, making the answers to these questions useless for you. This little mission of yours was over. 

You watched a squirrel scurry down the trunk of a tree to your left, the small animal cloaked in the shadows of the darkness. Eager to get this over with, you placed your hand on the top of the gun, slowly pulling the slide backwards. At the exact moment you heard a click sound from your gun, the squirrel crashed into a pile of leaves, muffling the racking of your slide. Still, your gaze stayed fixed on Jungkook’s expression just in case as both your hands went to hold the handle. His brows were furrowed, but his eyes were still turned downwards, giving the impression that perhaps Jimin had said something he wasn’t expecting. 

Distantly you wondered what it could have been, but physically you brought your gun up from the side of the trunk, pushing the thought out of your mind. 

You felt all thoughts flow out of your head like they always did whenever you were aiming, this time your barrel pointing straight in the direction of Jungkook’s temple. When you saw a lack of any reaction from him, you knew it was over.

Your finger finally pressed against the trigger.

Goodbye, Jungkook.

“You’re inviting me to the Park Territory?”

You froze, your finger stalling as it pushed the trigger by about a third of its pathway, the words making your eyes widen in surprise. It had to be a misunderstanding, your luck couldn’t be so good - or would it be bad in this case? - that Park Jimin was inviting Jeon Jungkook over to his territory? 

You strained your ears, desperately trying to hear Jimin’s answer to the question. You even dangerously pushed your head forward a bit, risking being detected by Jungkook, but he was much too busy staring at the ground with slightly widened eyes to notice your form, clearly just as surprised as you.

You pulled back behind the trunk when you managed to make out a yes from Jimin’s end of the line, causing you to suck in a breath. 

This changed things. 

If Jungkook were to be killed in the Park Territory it wouldn’t just cause tensions between the northern territories, it would instantly cause all out war. Killing a leader while he was visiting another territory was a huge no no, no matter what region of the country you were from. It signified at least some form of ethics in a world that was so unethical, and surprisingly you’d never met a territory that didn’t honour that rule. To the point that when leaders broke that rule, it was instant chaos. All it would take was for Jungkook to die on Park soil for both the Jeons and Kims to retaliate with full force, no room for negotiations or apologies. 

And the best part was that, if Jungkook were to go, he would have to take you. Leaders always took their wives whenever they travelled or visited other territories to assert their power. If Jungkook ended up going to the Park Territory without you, he would give off the impression that he was scared he wouldn't be able to protect you should something go wrong, making him look weak. Mr. Perfect Image would never have that, especially in the face of the one person clearly trying to take over his territory. 

Now it all depended on his answer. 

Your handgun continued to stay pinned on Jungkook’s head, finger still pressing against the trigger as you watched him stare into the ground before him. You could practically see the gears turning in his brain, going over the advantages and disadvantages of his options while his lips were pressed into a firm line. Whether he survived or not tonight was all dependent on the answer he gave now.

You could feel your muscles tensing in anticipation, the natural sounds of the forest blurring into the background as you focused on the man before you. 

Jungkook’s head suddenly lifted, staring straight ahead of him as the chaos of his thoughts seemed to subside. You automatically adjusted your aim, preparing yourself before he finally spoke.

“Fine.”

Your finger instantly lifted off the trigger to let it bounce back into place, pairing with the sound of Jungkook ending the phone call. Your arm dropped to your side as the realisation washed over you. 

The decision had been made, you were going to visit the Parks. 

But one thing had become more clear to you at this very moment. You had just given up a good opportunity to end this man, one that may not show itself again, which meant you could not let it be in vain. No matter what happened there, no matter how you had to do it, Jungkook was dying in the Park Territory. There was no room for failure now, only the end of what needed to be done. 

You’d do anything to make sure of it. 

A/N: Things are about to get very physical 😏 Also comments, reblogs, and likes are appreciated!

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Stars to my moon | chapter-7 |

Genre: Soulmateau! Idolau!Angst;fluff;drama;romance, polyamorousAu!

Pairing: ot7×f!OC

Summary: He took big strides, halting right in front of me as he bends to my eye level, causing me lean back a little. I could feel his breath fanning my face, looking into his eyes, I could see a storm of anger into them.

"We have been nothing but considerate of you and your feelings, while all you've given in return is rejection and cold shoulder since day one." He grits out.

when Selene's 22nd birthday doesn't go as she expected, her world turns upside down, making her resent her soulmates. Will she ever come to accept them in her life or will she continue to run away holding onto her past love?

Word count: 5.5k

Taglist: @effielumiere

Two days later, I find myself in front of their apartment again. 

Not only because the distance from my soulmates was taking a toll on my body, but because I had reached a decision. 

I ring the bell. Even after staying at this place for a week, I didn't know the passcode. But well, I didn't need to since I never went outside the dorm.

Brown eyes greet me as the door opens, but the usual steel-hard glare was missing. Instead, his eyes refused to let any emotion seep out as soon as he registered my face.

"Hi, I uh, can I come in?" I ask him, and he moves over in response.

As soon as I step into the apartment, I asked him, "Are Jin and Jimin here?" 

"In their rooms," he replies shortly. I expected him to call them out, but he shifted to the kitchen, not sparing me another glance.

I scoff at his behavior, I still don't understand what his problem is. He is acting like I am the one who called him a bitch.

Rolling my eyes, I move to their bedrooms. 

Even if I still don't like Taehyung, he did make me ponder on the words I said that night and the words he said to me. As much as I don't like that he called me a bitch, I think he was right about the other stuff.

I was not treating Jimin and Jin right. Not the way they deserved to be treated. Even after all of my cold attitude and snappy behavior, they cared for me, stood by me, and when Taehyung was insulting me, Jimin stuck up for me, even after I had just embarrassed him in front of his members. They didn't care about anything but my well-being.

Both the guys had been calling me several times these past two days, texting me- asking if I was alright and that they're sorry. When I had read that text, I laughed like a madwoman. What were they apologizing for? I was the one that did them wrong. I was the one who didn't give Jimin time to explain about the necklace. I was the one at fault for everything that had been going on in our friendship.

I knock at Jimin's door first. I owe him an apology the most.

"Come in!" he calls over from the other side. 

I open the door, finding him- laying on the bed on his stomach, his face hidden in the pillow. 

I move to sit on the bed beside him, his back facing me.

When I don't say something, he turns around, and as soon as his eyes see that it's me and not one of his members, he sits up straight. 

"Selene!? What-" 

"I came to apologize." I interrupt him.

"You don't need to." he comes closer to me.

"Yes, I do. I was blinded by my anger and guilt that day that I neglected your feelings. You were in no way wrong, and I couldn't see it, and I'm sorry for that. I'm sorry for the way I reacted not only that day but also for the whole week. I'm sorry for blaming you for my breakup, and I'm thankful. I'm thankful that you kept my necklace safe, you could have thrown it away, you were in no way obligated to keep it, especially when you weren't sure that it was mine. Thank you Park Jimin, for everything." I reach out and cover his hand with mine, not once meeting his eyes.

He slides his hand from mine, and for a second, I think he won't forgive me, he'll throw me out of his room but instead, he wraps his arms around me, making me freeze. 

Alright, I was not expecting that.

"You don't need to thank me, Selene, we're connected on a much deeper level. We're connected by our souls, I will always take care of you." He murmurs in Korean, now that they know that I can understand their language, I'm sure, it's going to be a common occurrence. 

When I don't hug him back he backs off, "I understand if you still don't accept us, I am fine with staying friends."

I shake my head, "No, I may not fully accept you just yet, but I'm willing to try. I'm ready to give this a chance." I promise him, and his face breaks into the brightest smile, eyes turning into crescent moons. I swear that was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.

"I don't need anything else," He says, and I give his hand a squeeze.

"Well, I need to make another apology stop, but I should tell you since I accepted your offer of the apartment next door, I'll move into it tomorrow." saying this, I turn around- moving out of his room and towards Jin's.

I knock on the door, and not a second later, the door opens. An expression of surprise crosses the handsome face of my soulmate before he schools his features and his eyes start to assess me worryingly, "Are you ok?" 

"I am okay, Jin." I smile, even after all I said to him that day, the first question he asks me is if I'm okay. 

"Can I come in?" With my question as if he came back down to earth, he moves aside.

Stepping into his room, I turn back around to him as he closes the door. 

"I called you," he comments. I know what he wants to know, what am I doing here if I didn't answer his calls or texts? And I wanted to, God help me, I wanted to, but I didn't know what to say to them. I didn't want to apologize on the phone, and I did not have the courage to come back here until now. 

"I know," I reply softly, deciding to tell him the truth I begin, "After all I did, I didn't have the courage to face you again." 

"Then why are you here again?" 

"I- I wanted to apologize." 

"I worried. What if something happen-" he stops mid-sentence, shaking his head. "I just got you, I can't lose you." he looks at me with so much intensity I could break right there.

"I'm sorry-" 

"I don't want your sorry, Selene. I want you to not be reckless. I want you to stay. To take responsibility." he interrupts me. 

"And I will. I am here to tell you that I will try to accept our fate. To accept you," Hearing my words, he freezes.

"Chin-ja?" he asks, and I nod.

"Thank you," he says. I shake my head.

"You don't need to thank me Jin, I need to thank you for taking care of me. And I apologize. For blaming you that day. For saying those words to you. You did not deserve them, and I'm sorry for that." 

"It's okay. You were mad. Hurting. I'll gladly take any of your blows if it means sparing you of that hurt." Tears stung in the back of my eyes, hearing his words. 

I lower my head, not wanting him to see me like that. But it's too late as I feel arms wound around my body. And with that hug, I let all of the past frustration, anger, and hurt go. I didn't want my past shadowing my future now. Now that I have finally decided to give them a chance, I didn't want anything to get in between it. 

But as I said before, declining my prayers and requests must be the favorite pastime of the Universe.

-------------------------------------------------------------

I don't move from my spot even as my tears dry. The solace of his arms was like when the warm sunlight embraces you after a cold night. Jin doesn't move back as well, knowing I needed the comfort. 

Tipping my head back to look into his eyes, wanting to thank him for his kindness, but as he matched my gaze, my mind goes blank. Just as several times before, I get lost in the ocean of his eyes. They always had this little thing about them, like as they meet my eyes; they shine a little brighter as if the whole universe can be seen in them.

I didn't know if it was the heat of the moment or the pull of our souls, but we slowly started to lean in, my gaze now on his lips. I could feel my heartbeat rising by the second, yet I could do nothing to slow it. My mind only had one thing playing, and that was Jin. His sweet vanilla scent. The warmth of his touch. 

I look back into his eyes which were still fixed on my lips, but as if he could sense my calling, he looks up into mine. Asking the question, I, myself didn't have an answer to. 

The knocking on the door interrupts us before I could grant him the permission. 

Although Jin doesn't move back, still holding me in place, he asks, "Who is it?" 

"Hyung, I'm sorry to interrupt but is Selene in there?" Namjoon calls over from the other side of the door.

"Yes, You need something?" He asks back.

"Uh, I needed to talk to her. Do you think I can borrow her for a second?" 

"Wait," Jin tells him before looking at me, "You want to talk?" 

"Sure, I'll see what he needs," I say, stepping back from his embrace. 

He nods, as he moves to open the door. "Are you hungry? Did you eat anything?" 

"Uh, A little? I didn't have breakfast," 

"Why? you should not skip breakfast, it's the most important meal of the day!" He scolds me.

"I just wasn't feeling very well," I shrug. It was just a little soul-sickness since I went without any contact with my soulmates for two days straight. I consulted the doctor, Mr. Choi because I was sure it wasn't supposed to take effect that quickly, he told me since I had more than one soulmate, being distant from all of them at the same time caused the soul-sickness so quickly.

But guess telling him about me being unwell was a big mistake because faster than light, he was by my side after opening the door; startling Namjoon with his worry, checking me for any signs of sickness.

"Why? what happened?" 

"Nothing, it was just because of the distance, now I'm good. Thanks to you," his ears turn red at the mention of our almost kiss.

"What? what?" Namjoon asks from the door.

"Nothing. You wanted to talk?" I change the topic.

"Oh, um, yeah. Can you come with me?" 

"Sure." I turned to Jin, "I'll catch you later." 

"I'll make you something," he says, and I nod. 

Turning to Namjoon, he leads me out the door. But my mind is still in the room, with Jin. I'm not sure if I wanted that kiss to happen just yet, but I couldn't fight against the pull as well, which was only heightened by our touch. Had Namjoon not interrupted us, I'm sure we would have sealed our bond, and completed it. 

I just decided to give them a chance, give us a chance. I didn't want to go so fast. I want things to happen at their time not rush them. And I'm sure Jin would agree. 

Lost in my thought, I didn't register when we're out on the balcony. I look over at Namjoon, only to find him already looking at me expectantly. 

"I'm sorry, what were you saying?" I sheepishly ask.

"Please don't take me otherwise, but I have a theory, or maybe would be a better word," 

"Okay... What is it?"

"I think you're my soulmate." He says, and my breath gets caught in my throat. What!!?

When I don't say anything, he holds his hand out, asking for my hand. But how, I already have three soulmates, and that is as far as the soulmate groups have gone. There had not been a case of the same person having more than three soulmates. So how can he be mine, right? And even if for a second I pretend that he is one of my soulmates, how will I juggle between four soulmates? Three was already too much. 

And Namjoon, he has kinda taken the role of my friend ever since I got here. Knowing my past and even going as far as to hide it from his brothers, endangering his own friendship with them. If he is willing to accept me still, maybe I should too.

 "Are you sure?" I ask him hesitantly.

He starts to lower his hand, a dejected look settling over his eyes. 

Fuck it!  

Maybe him being my soulmate wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. I only have to gain. I reach out and hold his hand, which was a lot bigger than mine but, somehow it molded into his perfectly. And then I feel it, my first ever link of souls where I'm aware of it actually happening. I don't need to look at his finger to see the star sitting on it, I don't need him to tell me that he's my soulmate. I can feel it, and looking into his eyes, I know he can too. 

A dimpled smile takes over his features as he looks at our joined hands. I look over at them too. And with the slowest of movements, he moves his hand and intertwines our fingers. The touch was torturously intense that I could feel my heart fighting to stay inside my rib cage, butterflies dancing inside my stomach. 

The heat of his eyes was too much for me to handle but at the same time, all strength to move them had left my body. I didn't know what was happening. At this moment, only we mattered. Together. As I said before, gaining him as a soulmate wouldn't be so bad. Not bad at all.

The pull between our souls, working harder than ever. Lost in our own little world, we didn't know which one of us crossed the distance between our bodies, but right now, there wasn't much of it left. One more step and I would be flush against him. I had to crane my neck to look up at him, his eyes shining so brightly as if stars in a night sky. 

"Selene, food is ready!" Jin's voice booms over. Startling us, causing us to fling away from each other. I pat down my hair consciously. I know there was nothing wrong with them; I just needed something to do with my hands.

As Jin comes into view, he sends us a questioning gaze, "Why are you smiling?" 

Hearing him, my hands automatically reach up to touch my face, and sure enough, I was smiling. I didn't even realize! 

He looks over at Namjoon, who all but shows him his ring finger in response, causing the elder to freeze in his spot. 

"What the-!??"

------------------------------------------------------

"Mmm...uau! I don't think I'll ever be tired of your cooking. It is soo good!" I comment. Mouth full of the delicious stew he cooked. Honestly, if he wasn't a singer, he could have been a chef. 

"Gomawo. I can cook you whatever you want." Jin offers with a smile. 

"Careful, I might take you up on that offer." I tease with a pointing look.

"You are welcome to." He replies from across me with Jungkook and Hoseok sitting on both sides while Jimin and Namjoon take up the space on my sides and Taehyung sits beside Namjoon. Yoongi isn't home; he really is missing out on some good food.

When Jin saw the mark on Namjoon's finger, he was surprisingly cool with it, even happy: dare I say. Jimin and Taehyung don't know about it yet, but something tells me Jimin might have a similar reaction to Jin, and well, I don't know Taehyung enough to be predicting his reaction. 

"Yah! Namjoon-ah, don't you have something to tell?" Jin says suddenly, catching me off guard. Is telling them while eating a good idea? I don't want to be presumptuous, but I mean, what if they don't like it? I hope they don't leave the table. 

"Hmm..." Namjoon voices out, trying to chew faster so he could tell. "Guess I wasn't wrong." he displays his finger again with a shit-eating grin on his face. Wait, wasn't wrong? Did he tell them already? 

"What do you mean?" I ask, my eyebrows shifting into a frown as I turn to him. But he isn't the one answering my question.

"Namjoon hyung told us yesterday that he had a hunch you might be his soulmate too. He was telling us before to see if we had a problem if you were," Jimin reveals. 

"And what did you say?" my eyebrow raised.

He leans in closer to me as if sharing a secret that is meant to stay between us only, and whispers, "I'll tell later," and he winks. 

Uhh... alright...? I look away from him trying not to blush.

I turn back to Namjoon, "How did you even know, though?" 

His eyes glaze over to me, "Are you telling me that you didn't feel it? You didn't feel the pull whenever you were near me? Because I did, and at first, I was so confused because I thought it was attraction. But how could I be attracted to my brother's soulmate? However, later after some research, I got to know that it might be a sign of soulmates." he shrugs.

He is asking me if I felt the pull, and to be honest, I did. But I didn't dwell on it as he did. I just shrugged it off since it wasn't something I felt with him only. I felt that way when I was with any of the seven. 

Wait. a. damn. fucking. Second.

Does that mean what I think it does? Are all of them my soulmate? Do they know that I am their soulmate? Should I ask? No. that would be too weird, and I'm not ready to make any more connections. The doctor said my three connections were the reason for the early sickness, and I just connected with Namjoon. But they have been waiting too long for their soulmate. Is it fair to keep it from them when I know? How should I approach the subject? Or do I just go all in and rip the band-aid off?

We quietly finish our dinner, the boys wanted me to stay the night since I just connected with Namjoon, and we need proximity and body contact.

"Guys, If I am going to move to the next apartment tomorrow, I need to go back and get everything ready." I counter their requests.

"you don't have to do that. We can take care of your moving." Namjoon states.

"And you fell ill yesterday. I don't want that again. You are going to stay here, and that's final." Jin speaks in a final tone, leaving no room for argument. Still, I try.

"But there's no room; where would I sleep even if I stay." I shrug.

"One of us can bunk with another. You can have that room." Namjoon offers.

"I can't let you guys do that. You should sleep in your own bed." I begin.

"It's alright, Selene. Really. Some of us sneak into each other's room all the time anyway." He assures me, and I sigh. Guess there's no out now.

"A La Mierda, Alright," I reconcile, and they break into cheers as if they won a lottery and not got me to stay the night.

---

I toss and turn, but it's as if my mind doesn't know the concept of sleep. The realization of today has my mind running at full speed. How could I have missed it? I had felt the pull towards all of them, yet even while it was so obvious, I had failed to understand it. 

I have seven soulmates, and I can't digest that fact. I was worried about juggling three soulmates. It turns out that would have been much easier than juggling seven. Or maybe, I’m wrong, maybe I’m thinking too much about this. 

Sighing, I get up and move out of the room. 

As the boys promised, I was staying in Jin's room while he was bunking with Jungkook. The latter obviously had no problem with it. 

I go to the kitchen to fetch a bottle of water and make my way towards the balcony. If I can't sleep, at least I'll gaze at the stars. But as I slide the balcony door, I see that I am not the only one awake at this hour of the night.

"Hey, trouble sleeping?" 

He looks up from the book in his hand and looks up at me, "Hi, kinda." he shrugs. "What are you doing up?" 

"Can't sleep." I take a seat beside him, offering him the bottle of water. He shakes his head in refusal.

"What are you reading?" I ask, wanting to get my mind off things. 

"Almond by Won-Pyung Sohn. Do you read?" 

"No. Never tried." I answer, and he nods as silence follows.

I gaze up at the night sky, trying to find comfort in the constellations. 

"You have completed your bachelor's, right?" 

"Mm-hmm." 

"Any future plans?" he asks and I tell him all about how I decided to do my masters here at Seoul university.

"Oh? what will you be mastering in?" His eyes meet mine.

"Astronomy. I love the space and secrets in its vastness." I shrug.

"Wow, You always had an interest in it, or is it newfound?" 

"I've always found it interesting. My mom used to look up at the stars whenever she remembered her soulmate. So I started finding comfort in it too." 

He nods, "You know, You don't look Spanish."

"Because I'm not," I tell him deadpan.

"Huh?" he tilts his head in confusion.

"Yeah, I'm adopted. I am originally from India. My mother adopted me when I was just a baby."

"Oh."

"Hmm."

We both get back to our respective hobbies. My mind, once again racing with hypothetical questions.

How will they react when they find out?

What if they don't want to share me with others?

What if I become the reason for them drifting apart?

"You good, Selene? What are you thinking?" the question pulls me out of my thoughts.

"Huh?" 

"You're gripping the chair a little too hard, and your leg is bouncing. You're anxious. Why?" I stop bouncing my leg and look down at my hand, which had turned white from the hard grip. I lose my grip.

Should I tell him? He has proven himself, and he might give me an insight into how the boys might react.

I take a deep breath, ready to bear my mind to him and open my mouth but close it again. 

I don't know how to word what's going on inside my head.

"What is it, Selene? Tell me. Maybe I might help?" He looks at me with concern.

"Okay," I nod. "You asked me at the dinner table if I felt the pull towards you, and the answer is yes."

"Okay...why does it trouble you?"

"That is the thing. I felt that way with all of you. The pull, I felt it whenever I was near any of you." I say, and his face gets morphed into one of confusion.

"Wha- What do you mean?" he asks.

"I think all of you are my soulmates." There. I said it. 

 I try to interpret his expressions. My connected soulmate goes into the mode of realization as if he had missed something obvious. 

"Oh shit!" He says as he looks over at the horizon, thinking.

I fidget with my fingers, waiting for him to step out of his mind.

"How do you think they'll react to this if they find out?"

Namjoon clears his throat, "I think Jungkookie will be happy, though I cannot say about the other two. Yoongi-hyung was waiting for his soulmate as well, but I don't how he will react when he finds out he'll have to share them with all his members."

I nod, mulling over his words. I was the most afraid of his reaction. I have had the least interaction with him. What if he would want nothing to do with me?

"Well, I do have one question I had been pondering over the whole day." he voices out, catching my attention.

"What is it?" I match his gaze.

"Just a couple of days ago, you were cursing out your soulmates for getting between you and your ex-boyfriend. What happened that you are so willing to accept them now?" I smile. 

"My mother. That's what happened." 

"She convinced you to give us a chance?" he asks.

I chuckle, "No, nothing is that simple with her."

I was scrolling through my Instagram when my mother's name pops up on the screen. I accept the call.

"Hi, mama. How are you?" I say into the receiver.

"I should be asking you that. How's my baby?"

"I'm good, mama. All better."

"And how are your soulmates?" 

"I don't know. I came back."

"Why? Do you want to get sick again? Do you not care about me at all? let alone yourself?"

"They lied to me, mama. They had my necklace all this while, and not once they thought to give it back. And then one of their members steps up, curses me out, and announces that I am his soulmate."

"What? Another one?" 

"Yeah, I can't deal with them anymore. I tried because you said so. I will go there tomorrow to seal my bond and then move on with my life."

I hear her take a deep breath on the other end before she speaks,

"Mi Hija, these are your soulmates we are talking about, not a crush."

"I know, Ma-"

"No, listen here, young lady, and do not interrupt. I had been where you are, I never wished for a soulmate. I didn't believe in love. But he wore me down, and when I finally did allow him in my life, made a place for him in it, did I know what it was to really live. I thought I was happy alone, but he was the one who showed me what true happiness was. He brought colors into my life and took them back when he left. For two years, Selene. It took him two years to get my yes, but when I look back at that time, I see nothing but the two more years I could have been happy with him. I wish I could go back and change the past. I would never show him any attitude or reject him to his face. That was the time I regret the most and, you will too because you guys are destined to be together, maybe you can push it but, you can't erase what is written. Whether now, or later it will inevitably happen. So, do not waste the time you have with them, Sel. You don't know what might happen tomorrow. I know it's cringe but Seize the day, my baby. Do not give yourself a chance to regret the decisions you make now, in the future."

By the time my mother finished her speech, tears were running down my face. I never knew their story went like this. I only knew from when they actually started dating. 

"Give them a chance, Sel. You will know why they are your other halves. Open your heart for them, and you will feel that's where they belonged." 

Maybe she is right; the boys have been nothing but good to me since the start, always taking care of my needs. Even when Taehyung snapped at me, Jimin stood up for me. Giving them a chance might not be the end of the world. 

With the smallest voice, I choke out an Okay.

"Take care, baby." She cuts the call.

"With the whole day of pondering over her words, I came to the decision of giving us a chance. But how will things go when there are seven of you and only one me?" 

"Firstly, I would like to thank you for giving us this chance. I promise you none of us will let you down. And I don't know, if the universe has arranged this cluster, it will show us the path too. We just need to let things happen. We are destined for one another, but that doesn't mean it won't take effort. I am willing to give this relationship my hundred percent." He finishes with a promise. 

I smile, "Me too. As my mother said, I don't want any regrets."

He laughs as he covers my hand with his. Intertwining our fingers, he says, "No regrets." 

--------------------------------------------------------------

"Can you pass me the ladle?" Jin asks, adding the spices to his fried rice. 

"A second," I reply. Washing my hands, I pass the ladle to him.

"So, is this your specialty dish?" I ask him.

Jin and I are making breakfast, while the other members are still sleeping. After my talk with Namjoon last night, I had finally gotten some sleep. But not for long. I was awake before the sun came up, and when I heard the sound of footsteps passing my room, I went out to see Jin was getting ready to make breakfast, and since I didn't have much to do and wanted to get my mind off things, I decided to help him. 

"Yeah, kinda." 

I hum as I watch him working in the kitchen, sauntering around to get the things he needs. Granted, I said I'll help him but watching him cook is much more fun and captivating.

"We should wake the others; it'll be ready soon," he says as he smells the dish. I move forward to do the same, and heaven's angels; the rice smells so good, and water starts pooling in my mouth. 

I turn to him, praises on my tongue, but as I open my mouth to spew them out, he sticks a spoon in my mouth, letting me taste the magic of his cooking. 

I moan at the rich taste of the dish.   

"Mmm... How are you not a chef? So good." 

"Because I'm a better singer than a Chef." He says, winking, and I laugh. 

"No doubt there, sir."  

We're both laughing when suddenly a soft voice startles us, "Hyung!" making us spring apart from each other. I'm not sure either of us realized closing our distance. The pull of souls is stronger than ever. Perhaps because I'm not trying to fight against it.

I turn around to see Taehyung with his usually impassive face as he shifts into the kitchen to wish his hyung good morning and goes back out to the living room; without even sparing me a glance.  

When I look back at Jin, he gives me a look but doesn't say anything.

Soon enough, all the boys start to come in, piling into their seats. Jin and I take our seats as well. 

As soon as I sit, Jimin's head is on my shoulder from my other side.

"Uh, what are you doing?" I ask him with a little smile on my face.

"I'm sleepy." He mumbles and continues to sleep on my shoulder.

I shake my head, "You need to eat."

"Two minutes." He says, getting comfy.

"Alright." I look around the table, not seeing yoongi.

"Where's Yoongi?" I question.

"He came back late, Still sleeping," Namjoon replies.

"He should eat but." I counter.

"He will after he wakes up. He doesn't like anyone disturbing his sleep." He says, and I sigh. He's right. I shouldn't disturb his sleep; I don't have any right. Not one they are aware of anyway.

The breakfast goes smooth after that. Three of my connected soulmates shower me with attention while the fourth maintains his impassive face while looking at our exchange.

"Here" I extend my hand to him.

"What!?" he looks at my hand and then my face with big eyes and cheeks full of rice.

I try not to smile and with a straight face mumble, "I don't want us to fall sick. So, please hold my hand"

after taking his hand in mine, I turn back my attention to my other soulmates.

                                                           ---

"Hey, don't touch it!" I slap Jimin's hand away, taking the notebook myself and packing it in the box labeled important. 

As the boys promised, they asked their manager to help me get my stuff moved, and Jimin being Jimin, decided to come with me. 

We pack my stuff as the movers their manager hired; take the packed boxes to the vehicle. I didn't know we could hire people to move our stuff. It's great. In fact, I didn't need to come here at all. They could have packed my stuff as well while I chilled in the dorm, but I insisted on coming and doing it myself. I am not fond of it when other people touch my stuff.

"Why didn't you tell us you can understand Korean?" Jimin asks, taping the boxes that have already been stuffed. He wanted a job, and since I didn't want him touching my stuff, I got him to pack the boxes. 

"I think it's pretty obvious why I didn't tell you," I put the last of my stuff away. Since I didn't come here with much of it, packing didn't take much time either. It was the furniture and the other things I bought here that needed a hand. 

"I don't know. You tell me." Jimin contradicts. 

Sighing, I look at him, "I didn't want you to know because I didn't trust you. I wanted you to talk freely in front of me to your friends and see what you thought. I wanted to see behind the mask you guys would put on for me. Now you know. Happy?" 

"Aani. No. I can understand it, but it still hurts, so no, I'm not happy. But I'm glad that I know it." He says with a pout. The urge to kiss that pout is too strong, but we're not there yet, and I know it's the pull more than my own inner affection. That's how it works. The pull between the bonds works hard to turn the connected bonds into sealed bonds, but I won't let it get in between our paces. If we do take a step forward, that would be because we wanted to, not because of the pull.

I step back into the living room after checking if there is anything left to pack, as Jimin finishes taping the last box. He looks up, spotting me, "You know, Rapmon-Hyung has the same plant. His is bigger than yours, though."

 I look down at the Bonsai plant in my arms. "Huh? Guess we do have something in common."

We leave the place to step into my new life, literally and figuratively. I don't give back the key, though. I had paid a year's rent, and I will keep it till then. If I  needed an escape from my seven soulmates, I think I should have a place for it.

Jimin and I talk the rest of the way. He thanks me again for giving them a chance and shares some stories of their debut days.