Hello, Sidney ( ) Kim Taehyung ()

hello, sidney (안녕 시드니) – kim taehyung (김태형)

✧.* 18+

fear was a shadow that clung to you, wrapping itself around your thoughts like a fog you couldn't escape. it wasn't just a fleeting sensation but a relentless presence, weaving itself into the fabric of your mind, dulling your senses, and sharpening the unknown into something monstrous. every creak of the floor, every whisper of wind against the window, sent your heart racing, as if the air itself had conspired against you. you felt it deep in your bones—a cold, gnawing dread that eroded your confidence, leaving you hollow and trembling.

in the stillness of the night, when the world seemed to hold its breath, fear became a living entity, whispering your doubts back to you, feeding on the silence. it was in those moments that you realized fear was never just about what could happen, but about what you imagined could happen—the horrors your mind painted in vivid detail. you tried to shake it off, to rationalize it away, but fear wasn't rational. it was primal, an ancient instinct that told you to run, to hide, to protect yourself from whatever lurked in the darkness. yet there you stood, rooted in place, unable to escape the tightening grip of terror that had found a home within you.

the night air had a palpable stillness to it, a quiet that pressed down on cha hyein like a weighted blanket. it was the kind of night that made even the most mundane tasks feel sinister. the clock on the wall ticked steadily, its rhythm the only sound accompanying her as she moved about the kitchen. the small kitchen, dimly lit by the faint glow of a single overhead bulb, cast long, eerie shadows that stretched across the linoleum floor.

she was carefully preparing for her movie night, every movement deliberate, almost ritualistic. she reached into the cabinet, the hinges creaking as she opened it, and retrieved a bag of popcorn. the plastic crinkled loudly in the oppressive silence. she poured the kernels into the old, worn popcorn maker, the metal cold against her skin, before setting it on the counter. the machine whirred to life, filling the room with a low, mechanical hum that grew louder with each passing second.

hyein glanced at the clock again, her anticipation tinged with a hint of unease. she loved horror movies, the thrill of fear they brought, but tonight felt different. there was a heaviness in the air, a tension that made her hesitate. she shook her head, dismissing the irrational feeling, and focused on the popping sounds now erupting from the popcorn maker, the kernels bursting in rapid succession, filling the air with the familiar scent of butter and salt.

it was just as she reached for a bowl to catch the popcorn that the phone rang. the sudden sound made her jump, her heart skipping a beat before she cursed herself for being so jumpy. she wiped her hands on a dish towel, the fabric rough against her skin, and picked up the receiver. “hello?” she answered, trying to keep her voice light, though the uneasy feeling gnawed at her.

there was a brief pause on the other end, just long enough for a chill to crawl up her spine, before a voice, low and smooth, asked, “what’s your favorite scary movie?”

she let out a relieved giggle, immediately assuming it was her boyfriend, playing one of his usual pranks. “yunho, this isn’t funny,” she chided, a smile tugging at her lips. she couldn't deal with her boyfriend anymore—she was already on the brink of breaking up with him, after hearing what he had to say about some girls from school. the voice on the other end, however, remained unfazed. “this isn’t yunho.”

the smile faded from her face, replaced by a furrowed brow. there was something unsettling about the way the stranger spoke, the way his voice seemed to snake through the phone line, wrapping around her like a cold tendril. still, she decided to play along, attributing the voice to some friend of yunho’s who had gotten hold of her number. “well,” she said, forcing a lightness she didn’t feel, “i’d have to say a nightmare on elm street.”

the popcorn continued to pop in the background, the sound a chaotic backdrop to the quiet conversation. the voice didn’t miss a beat. “which of the films was called the dream child?”

she scoffed, rolling her eyes as she leaned against the counter. “what is this? trivia night?” she quipped, but the silence on the other end unnerved her. it was as though the air had been sucked out of the room, leaving behind a vacuum where sound should be. she cleared her throat, feeling a prickling on the back of her neck. “the fourth movie,” she answered, her voice now laced with irritation.

but the silence persisted, thick and oppressive. she opened her mouth to demand what kind of game this was when suddenly, the lights flickered and then went out completely. the kitchen plunged into darkness, the only illumination coming from the faint glow of the popcorn maker as it continued its frantic popping, the sounds echoing unnaturally in the darkened space.

her breath hitched in her throat as she fumbled for the light switch, her fingers trembling. the voice, now a sinister whisper, finally broke the silence. “sorry, that’s incorrect.” the line went dead with a chilling finality.

panic surged through her. the phone slipped from her grasp, clattering to the floor as she spun around, trying to adjust her eyes to the darkness. the kitchen was now a maze of shadows, every corner and crevice filled with an unknown threat. and then she heard it—footsteps, slow and deliberate, approaching from somewhere behind her. her heartbeat thundered in her ears as she scrambled to grab a knife from the block on the counter. the cold steel felt reassuring in her grip, though she knew it was a flimsy defense against whatever—or whoever—was out there. she backed away, her breaths coming in ragged gasps as the footsteps grew closer, more distinct, echoing through the silent house.

she couldn’t stay here. she had to get out, she had to find yunho. without another thought, she bolted for the back door, the knife clutched tightly in her hand. she yanked the door open and stumbled into the backyard, the cool night air hitting her like a wave. she ran, her footsteps crunching on the gravel path, her lungs burning with each frantic breath. the backyard was a vast, dark expanse, the trees looming like specters in the night, their branches reaching out like skeletal fingers.

she stopped short when she saw him. yunho. hr was seated in the middle of the yard, on a chair, his head slumped forward, his hands tied behind his back. relief washed over her, momentarily drowning out the terror. “yunho!” she called, her voice trembling as she took a step toward him. but something was wrong. he didn’t move, didn’t respond. the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end as she took another tentative step closer. the shadows shifted, and suddenly, the yard was flooded with light. the harsh brightness revealed the gruesome truth.

yunho sat slumped in the chair, his shirt stained with dark, wet patches of blood. his torso had been brutally slashed open, his insides spilling out in a macabre display. the knife slipped from her grasp, clattering to the ground as she choked back a scream, the horror of the scene overwhelming her. “no, no, no, no,” she whimpered, her voice breaking as she backed away, her hands trembling violently. tears blurred her vision, but she couldn’t look away from his lifeless body, the reality of what she was seeing refusing to sink in.

then, she heard it. footsteps, again. this time, faster, closer. she spun around, her heart pounding in her chest, and saw a figure emerging from the shadows, clad in black, their face hidden behind a grotesque mask. the sight of the masked figure sent a jolt of pure terror through her, adrenaline propelling her forward as she turned and ran, her only thought to escape.

but the figure was fast, too fast. she could hear it gaining on her, the sound of their footsteps almost drowned out by her own panicked breaths. the yard seemed endless, the fence too far away, the distance stretching out like a cruel joke. and then she felt it—a hand, cold and unyielding, grabbing her arm, yanking her back with a force that knocked the air from her lungs. she struggled, her screams piercing the night, but the figure was relentless, its grip like iron as they pulled her down to the ground.

she fought, kicking, thrashing, but it was no use. the masked figure loomed over her, the moonlight glinting off the blade in their hand. she barely had time to register the glint of steel before it came down, slashing through the air with terrifying precision. the last thing she saw was the cold, lifeless eyes staring down at her from behind the mask, and then, nothing. it was game over.

the classroom was thick with an unspoken tension, the kind that crept in through the cracks and settled into your bones, making the air heavy and hard to breathe. you sat there, staring at the scuffed surface of your desk, tracing the grooves and dents with your eyes in a futile attempt to keep your mind from spiraling. but it was impossible. the anxiety gnawed at you, relentless and cruel, as you waited for the officer to speak.

he stood at the front of the room, a somber figure in his dark uniform, the emblem on his chest barely catching the light. his voice, when he finally began to speak, was low and measured, a tone that carried the weight of the horrific news he was about to deliver. “i’m afraid i have some difficult news to share,” he began, his eyes sweeping across the room, pausing for just a moment as they met yours before continuing. “your classmate, cha hyein, was found dead last night.”

the words hit you like a punch to the gut, stealing the breath from your lungs. the room seemed to tilt, the fluorescent lights overhead buzzing in an almost sinister hum. the silence that followed was deafening, a collective intake of breath as everyone tried to process the officer’s words. “there’s more,” he continued, his voice dropping to a grave whisper, the kind that made your skin crawl. “hyein’s death was not an accident. she was murdered.”

murdered. the word reverberated through your mind, echoing in the empty chambers of your thoughts, growing louder with each passing second. the officer’s face was a mask of professionalism, but you could see the horror lurking behind his eyes, the same horror that now twisted in your stomach.

“the suspect,” he said, his voice faltering for just a moment, “was seen wearing a long, black-and-white mask. they hung her by her own intestines, from a tree in her backyard.” the room was suffocating, the air thick with the collective fear and disbelief that hung in the space between you and the officer. the gruesome details painted a picture so horrific, so unimaginable, that your brain struggled to fully comprehend it. you felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, a cold sweat breaking out on your skin as the officer’s words replayed in your mind, each syllable dripping with dread.

before he could continue, your teacher, who had been standing near the back of the room with a pale face and trembling hands, abruptly cut him off. “that’s enough,” she said, her voice sharp and edged with a panic she was barely concealing. “these kids don’t need to hear any more.” the officer nodded, though his expression was one of reluctant agreement. he had more to say, you could tell, but he swallowed it back, his mouth set in a grim line. the silence that followed was unbearable, an oppressive weight that made it hard to breathe. the rest of the class passed in a blur, a haze of half-heard words and distorted faces. your mind was everywhere except where it should have been, replaying the officer’s words over and over, unable to shake the image of hyein’s lifeless body swaying in the wind.

by the time the final bell rang, you felt like a ghost drifting through the halls, your movements mechanical and numb. the usual chatter of your classmates felt distant, like it was coming from another world, one that you were no longer a part of. you found yourself outside the school, standing with your friends near the front gates, the familiar faces offering little comfort in the face of the terror gnawing at your insides.

kai was the first to break the uneasy silence. “so, that’s how she went out, huh? hung by her own intestines?” he let out a low whistle, the sound unnervingly casual considering the circumstances. “what a way to go.” jennie’s hand shot out, slapping him hard on the arm. “don’t be such an ass, kai,” she snapped, her voice sharp with anger. “leave her alone.”

he winced, rubbing his arm where she’d hit him, but the smirk on his face didn’t falter. “okay, i’ll liver alone.”

doyoung, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, suddenly spoke up. “the killer has an interesting tactic, though,” he mused, almost to himself. “the mask, the way they used her intestines. it’s all very theatrical.” kai shot him a sideways glance, his smirk widening into something more sinister. “what, you think you’re some kind of expert now? maybe you’re the killer, doyoung, with all that insight.”

he glared at him, his lips curling into a snarl. “fuck off, kai. i’m just saying.” jennie groaned, clearly exasperated with the both of them. “you’re both being assholes,” she muttered, crossing her arms over her chest. before she could say anything more, kai’s hands were suddenly around her waist, lifting her off the ground and slinging her over his shoulder despite her protests.

“you should talk less,” he teased, his voice light, but there was a hint of something darker underneath. jennie struggled in his grip, her fists pounding against his back, but kai only laughed, ignoring her complaints. amid the banter, you felt like you were floating, your thoughts far away from the conversation. the unease that had settled in your gut during class refused to dissipate, growing stronger with each passing minute. you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong, that the horror of what had happened to hyein was only the beginning.

taehyung noticed your distraction, his dark eyes softening as he reached out to stroke your hair gently, his touch grounding you in the present moment. “hey,” he murmured, his voice a soothing balm against the turmoil in your mind. “you okay?” you shook your head, the words spilling out before you could stop them. “this whole incident. it’s freaking me out, tae. i can’t stop thinking about it.”

he cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing across your skin in a tender gesture. “you shouldn’t worry,” he said softly, his voice filled with a quiet confidence that made your heart ache. you looked up at him, searching his eyes for the reassurance you desperately needed. “why not?”

his lips curled into a small, knowing smile, but he said nothing for a moment, as if weighing his words carefully. finally, he spoke, his voice low and sure. “because nothing could happen to you with me around.” the conviction in his words, the way he said it as though it was an undeniable truth, made something inside you unclench. the tension that had coiled in your chest slowly began to unwind, and you found yourself leaning into his touch, letting the warmth of his hand chase away the cold fear that had settled in your bones.

kai's laughter rang out into the cooling evening air, a sharp contrast to the somber mood that had settled over your group like a heavy fog. he flashed a grin, his eyes alight with a spark of mischief that seemed almost out of place given the day's events. “so,” he began, his tone casual, as if the tension that had gripped everyone didn’t even register to him, “who’s coming to my party tomorrow night?”

his words hung in the air for a moment, the sudden shift in conversation jarring against the lingering dread. you watched as taehyung, standing close to you with his hand still gently cradling your hair, scoffed, disbelief evident in his voice. “a party? seriously, kai? how can you even be in the mood for that after what happened?”

he shrugged, the motion careless, almost indifferent. “what does that have to do with me? hyein’s gone, but life goes on, right?” his words were nonchalant, but there was a darkness in the way he said them, as if the horror of what had happened was nothing more than an inconvenience, something to be brushed aside in favor of more entertaining pursuits.

doyoung, who had been leaning against the fence with his arms crossed, winced at his words. he tilted his head, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he spoke. “you know, kai, i’m not so sure about that. with the way you’re acting, it’s almost like you’re trying to convince us you had nothing to do with it.”

kai’s eyes narrowed, the playful glint in them hardening into something sharper, more dangerous. he turned to doyoung, his lips curling into a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “careful, do,” he said, his voice low and smooth, with an edge that made your skin crawl. “you keep talking like that, and you might just be my next victim.”

the tension between them was almost laughable, a taut string ready to snap at any moment. you could see doyoung bristle at the threat, but before he could retort, jennie suddenly turned to you, her enthusiasm cutting through the unease like a knife through butter. “please, you have to come to the party!” she exclaimed, her eyes wide and pleading as she grabbed your hands in hers. the intensity of her grip was almost desperate, as if the promise of a party was the only thing holding her together, a fragile thread of normalcy in the midst of the chaos.

you hesitated, your gaze flickering to taehyung, searching for some kind of direction, some sign of what you should do. his expression softened when your eyes met, and he offered you a reassuring smile, the kind that made your heart feel a little less heavy. “we’ll both be there,” he said, his voice gentle yet firm, as if the decision had already been made and all you had to do was follow his lead.

the words brought you a strange sense of comfort, the certainty in his tone a welcome anchor in the storm of uncertainty swirling around you. but even as you nodded in agreement, a small voice in the back of your mind whispered that something wasn’t right, that the veneer of normalcy everyone was so desperately clinging to was nothing more than a fragile illusion.

the sun had dipped below the horizon, casting long, eerie shadows as the five of you walked down the quiet street. the events of the day lingered like a dark cloud, your minds still grappling with the gruesome details of hyein's fate. the air was thick with tension, and despite the occasional attempts at levity, the unease was palpable. doyoung was the first to break the silence, his voice tinged with a mix of morbid fascination and disbelief. “i still can’t believe they found her liver just—out there like that.”

you felt a shiver run down your spine at his words, the imagery all too vivid in your mind. without thinking, you corrected him, your voice soft yet firm. “it wasn’t her liver, doyoung. it was her pancreas.” the group fell silent for a moment, the words hanging in the air.

you caught taehyung’s gaze, and he shot you a look you couldn’t quite decipher. there was something in his eyes—concern, perhaps, or maybe a hint of something else, something deeper. whatever it was, it made your heart skip a beat, and you quickly looked away, the weight of his gaze too much to bear. jennie, walking beside you, shuddered visibly, wrapping her arms around herself as if to ward off the chill that had settled over the group. “okay, enough,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. “i think it’s time we drop that topic.”

kai agreed, his grin widening as he spoke. “yeah, i agree. i can only imagine how much paincreas she was in,” he quipped, cackling at his own words. jennie rolled her eyes and slapped him on the back, her voice a mix of exasperation and amusement. “shut up. seriously, that’s not funny.”

but this time, even doyoung couldn’t suppress a giggle, the absurdity of the situation making the dark humor almost a relief. it was as if the laughter, however inappropriate, was a way to break the tension, to remind yourselves that you were still alive, still capable of feeling something other than fear. the conversation ebbed and flowed as you continued down the street, the familiar path to your house growing shorter with each step. the streetlights flickered on, casting pools of golden light on the pavement, but even their warm glow couldn’t chase away the shadows that seemed to cling to the edges of your vision.

as you neared your house, you felt a strange reluctance to part ways with taehyung. the thought of entering the cold, empty space alone filled you with a sense of dread you couldn’t quite shake. when you finally reached your gate, you stopped and turned to him, your heart heavy with unspoken fears. he paused as well, his gaze softening as he looked down at you. without a word, he stepped closer, wrapping his arms around you in a gentle embrace. you leaned into him, the warmth of his body a welcome contrast to the chill that had settled over you. his hands moved up to brush the hair from your forehead, his touch tender and careful, as if you were something fragile.

he bent down, pressing a sweet, lingering kiss to your forehead, his lips warm against your skin. “call me if you need anything,” he murmured, his voice a soft, reassuring whisper that seemed to ease some of the tension in your chest. you nodded, your voice barely above a whisper as you replied, “i will.”

you lingered for a moment longer, not wanting to let go of the comfort he provided, but eventually, you pulled back, giving him a small, grateful smile. with one last look, you turned and walked up the path to your door, the weight of the day settling back over you as taehyung’s presence faded into the background. the door creaked open as you stepped inside, the silence of the house pressing in on you from all sides. you locked the door behind you, the sound of the bolt sliding into place echoing in the empty space. the house was quiet—too quiet—every creak and groan of the old wood magnified in the stillness.

the house was too quiet, a silence that stretched on like a taut string ready to snap. you busied yourself with chores, trying to ignore the nagging unease that clung to you. the laundry was first, the rhythmic hum of the machine a welcome distraction. you folded the clothes mechanically, your mind wandering to a time when life was simpler, safer. as you dusted the shelves, your eyes landed on a framed photograph—a moment frozen in time, a memory that both warmed and shattered your heart.

it was a picture of you and your dad, taken years ago. you were both smiling, your faces lit up with pure joy. it was a candid shot, one of those rare moments when everything felt right in the world. but now, as you stared at it, the smile faded from your lips, replaced by a deep frown. his passing had taken a toll on you, a wound that had never fully healed. the grief was always there, lurking beneath the surface, ready to pull you under if you let your guard down.

with a sigh, you placed the picture back on the shelf and moved to the living room, sinking into the couch. the cushions were soft, enveloping you in their warmth, but the comfort was fleeting. the emptiness of the house pressed in on you, a reminder of just how alone you were. you reached for your phone, half expecting a text from taehyung, but nothing. just silence.

you had just begun to relax when your phone buzzed, startling you. you glanced at the screen, expecting to see taehyung's name, but there was no number—just a blank space where the caller id should have been. your heart skipped a beat, a cold finger of dread tracing down your spine. you hesitated, thumb hovering over the screen, before finally answering. “hello?” your voice wavered slightly, betraying your nerves.

for a moment, there was nothing—just the faint crackle of static on the other end. then, a voice, low and smooth, sent a chill straight to your bones. “hello, (y/n).”

you froze, the phone clutched tightly in your hand. the sound of your name, spoken by a voice you didn’t recognize, filled you with a fear unlike anything you had ever felt. your throat tightened, and it took all your strength to force out the words. “who is this?” the voice chuckled, a sound that made your skin crawl. “you could guess, but you’d never get it right.”

you scoffed, trying to mask your fear with bravado. “and what do i get if i guess right?”

silence. the kind that pressed in on you, that made you hyperaware of every creak and groan of the house. your breath caught in your throat, and just as you were about to speak again, you heard it—a knock at the door. “you get to live.”

you jumped, heart slamming against your ribcage, eyes darting toward the front door. “who’s there?” the voice on the other end of the line was calm, almost amused. “gonna get that?”

your hand trembled as you slowly rose from the couch, every instinct screaming at you to run. you grabbed a knife from the kitchen, the cold steel a poor comfort against the growing terror. with shaky steps, you approached the door, peering through the peephole. nothing. the porch was empty, the street beyond quiet. but the knocking persisted, louder now, more insistent. only, it wasn’t coming from the door anymore. it was coming from the living room.

panic surged through you, and you bolted up the stairs, heart pounding in your chest like a drum. you reached your bedroom and slammed the door shut, locking it behind you. your breath came in ragged gasps as you fumbled with the window, pushing it open just in case you needed to escape. with trembling hands, you dialed taehyung’s number. the ringing felt like an eternity, each second stretching on, until finally, his voice broke through the terror. “(y/n)? are you okay?”

“tae, someone’s trying to break in,” you whispered, your voice tight with fear. “i don’t know what to do.”

“i’ll be right there. where are you?” his voice was steady, a lifeline in the midst of the chaos. “by the window,” you managed to say, your eyes darting around the room, every shadow a potential threat. the minutes that passed felt like hours. the house was eerily quiet now, the knocking having ceased, but the fear remained, coiled tight in your chest. you stared out the window, your eyes straining in the darkness for any sign of movement.

then, a hand on the window frame startled you, and you almost screamed before realizing it was taehyung. he climbed up with surprising ease, slipping through the window and into your room. he took one look at your pale face and pulled you into a tight embrace, his presence grounding you. “i checked around,” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear. “there’s no one outside.”

before you could respond, the knock came again—this time, from the bedroom door. both of you froze, fear rippling through the room like a cold wind. taehyung’s eyes met yours, wide with terror, as he fumbled for his phone, quickly dialing the police. “they’ll be here soon,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. but the knocking grew more persistent, more aggressive, until it turned into a pounding that echoed through the walls.

“we have to go,” he urged, guiding you toward the window. with his help, you climbed out, the cool night air a stark contrast to the suffocating tension inside. you both dropped to the ground, crouching in the shadows at the front of the house, waiting. his arms were around you, holding you close as you both tried to steady your breathing. when the police arrived, you could barely speak, your voice trembling as you told them that the intruder was inside. they moved quickly, guns drawn, disappearing into the house while you and taehyung waited outside, the minutes dragging on like hours.

when the officers finally emerged, their faces were blank, offering no comfort. “there’s no one inside,” one of them said, his tone flat. “we’ve checked every room, every closet. there’s no sign of anyone.” you stared at him, your mind reeling. “but we heard it. the knocking—it was real. it was there.”

the officer exchanged a glance with his partner, then turned to taehyung, suspicion creeping into his voice. “so, you just happened to be around when all this was going on?” you bristled at the insinuation, stepping forward to defend him. “i called him. he was on the phone with me when the knocking happened. he heard it too.”

the officer’s skepticism remained, but he didn’t press the issue. “we’ll look for any evidence, but in the meantime, it might be best if you stayed somewhere else tonight. just to be safe.” yaehyung tightened his grip on you, his voice gentle as he spoke. “you can stay at my place. we’ll figure this out.” numbly, you nodded, too exhausted and too terrified to argue. as you walked away from the house that had once been your sanctuary, you couldn’t shake the feeling that nothing would ever feel safe again.

the drive to taehyung’s house was a blur, the streets illuminated by the soft glow of streetlights, casting long shadows that danced in the corners of your vision. the night air was cool against your skin, but it did little to ease the tension coiled in your chest. his hand rested on your thigh, his thumb tracing slow circles in an attempt to comfort you, but even his familiar touch couldn’t chase away the lingering fear that clung to you like a second skin.

when you finally arrived, his home felt like a haven, a place where the outside world couldn’t reach you. the house was warm, the lights soft and inviting, a stark contrast to the chilling events of the night. as you stepped inside, taehyung closed the door behind you, locking it with a deliberate click, and for a moment, the sound felt like a promise of safety.

“hey,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing as he took your hand, guiding you further into the house. “you’re safe now, okay? the police will handle it.” you nodded, though the reassurance felt hollow, your mind still replaying the nightmarish events that had unfolded. but when he pulled you into his embrace, his warmth seeped into you, grounding you in the present. his arms wrapped around you securely, his chin resting on the top of your head as you sank into his touch, allowing yourself to relax, even if just a little.

“you shouldn’t be so worked up,” he continued, his voice a gentle murmur against your ear. “the police will do their job. i won’t let anything happen to you.”

“i hope so,” you whispered back, your words muffled against his chest. the tension in your shoulders eased slightly as his hand came up to stroke your hair, his touch light and tender.

for a moment, the world outside didn’t exist—there was only taehyung, his presence a balm to your frayed nerves. he tilted your chin up with a soft touch, his eyes searching yours, and in that moment, all the fear, all the anxiety seemed to melt away. he leaned down, his lips brushing yours in a kiss that was sweet and tender, a promise that he was here, that he would keep you safe.

when he pulled back, a small, playful smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “wanna watch a scary movie?” he teased, his eyes glinting with mischief. you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, a laugh bubbling up despite the night’s events. you slapped his chest lightly, the familiar gesture bringing a sense of normalcy that you desperately needed. “are you serious right now?”

“just trying to lighten the mood,” he chuckled, leaning down to capture your lips in another kiss, this one deeper, more lingering. his hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin as he kissed you, slow and gentle, as if trying to convey all the things he couldn’t put into words. when he finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, and you found yourself smiling despite everything. “you’re terrible,” you whispered, though there was no bite to your words.

“but you love me anyway,” he murmured back, his voice soft, his breath warm against your lips. the two of you stood there for a moment, wrapped in each other’s arms, the world outside fading away. eventually, he led you to the couch, pulling you down beside him. the room was dimly lit, the soft glow from a nearby lamp casting a warm light over the space, making everything feel intimate and safe.

he wrapped a blanket around the both of you, cocooning you in warmth, and you curled up against his side, your head resting on his shoulder. his arm draped over you, holding you close, his presence a steady anchor in the storm of your thoughts. “don’t worry,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your temple. “we’ll figure this out. you don’t have to be afraid. not when i’m here.”

you nodded, closing your eyes as you let his words wash over you, his voice a soothing lullaby that chased away the remaining shards of fear. with him by your side, it was easier to believe that everything would be okay, that the nightmare would soon be over. he pressed another kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment before he pulled back, his fingers tracing soothing patterns along your arm. “i’ll be here all night. i’m not going anywhere.”

“good,” you murmured, snuggling closer to him, your body finally starting to relax. “because i’m not letting you out of my sight.” he chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through his chest, and you felt the last of your anxiety ebb away, replaced by a sense of calm that only he could bring. the fear that had gripped you so tightly earlier seemed distant now, a shadow that couldn’t reach you in the warmth of his embrace.

the morning light filtered through the tall windows of the school hallway, casting long, warm beams that danced across the polished floors. the steady hum of student chatter filled the air, a comforting reminder of normalcy after the events of the previous night. you walked beside jennie, her presence a familiar comfort as you made your way through the crowded halls. her eyes sparkled with curiosity, as they always did, but today there was an edge of concern in her gaze as she glanced over at you. you could feel her watching you, waiting for you to speak, but you kept your thoughts to yourself, still trying to shake off the lingering unease from the night before.

when you finally neared your locker, you stopped, your hand hovering over the cool metal handle. she paused beside you, leaning against the neighboring locker with a casual grace that was so quintessentially her. the buzz of the hallway seemed to fade as you turned to face her, knowing that you couldn’t keep it from her any longer. “so,” you began, your voice low, tinged with the weight of what you were about to share. “something happened last night.” her eyebrows shot up, her expression instantly serious. “what? what happened?”

you took a deep breath, the memories of the night before flooding back with a cold, creeping dread. “someone tried to break into my house.” her eyes widened in shock, her mouth falling open slightly. “oh my god, are you okay? what happened? tell me everything.”

you nodded, trying to keep your voice steady as you recounted the events. “o was doing some chores, just trying to unwind, and then i got a call. no number, just this voice,” you trailed off, shuddering at the memory of that cold, taunting voice. “what did they say?” jennie asked, her voice hushed, as if speaking too loudly would summon the terror back.

“they knew my name,” you continued, “and they told me to answer the door. i armed myself with a knife and checked the peephole, but no one was there. then i heard the knocking again, but it was coming from inside the house.” her hand flew to her mouth, her eyes wide with horror. “fuck, that’s terrifying.”

“it was,” you admitted, the fear from the night before still fresh in your mind. “i ran upstairs and locked myself in my room. called tae, and he came over right away.” her expression softened at the mention of taehyung’s name, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “so, you really spent the night at his place?”

you nodded, your own lips curving into a faint smile as you thought of how safe you’d felt with him. “yeah, he was the only thing holding me together.” her eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint as she leaned in a little closer. “and? did he give it to you good?”

you scoffed, playfully swatting her arm. “as if,” you said, rolling your eyes at her insinuation. “It wasn’t like that.” she leaned back against the locker, crossing her arms over her chest as she regarded you with a knowing smile. “you should totally let him. he’s hot, (y/n). he’s such a catch.”

her words hung in the air between you, and you couldn’t help but let them sink in. taehyung was indeed a catch—kind, protective, and undeniably handsome. but before you could dwell on those thoughts, you shot jennie a playful look. “kai must not be hitting it good enough, huh?” she rolled her eyes dramatically, a groan slipping past her lips. “i wish. we’ve been going at it like rabbits.”

you couldn’t help but laugh, the sound bubbling up from deep within you, the tension from the night before melting away in the face of her candidness. “gross,” you teased, pretending to gag as you elbowed her lightly. the two of you fell into a comfortable silence, the usual banter and teasing between you providing a much-needed distraction from the horrors that had gripped you less than twelve hours ago. the fear and uncertainty that had weighed so heavily on you felt distant now, replaced by the slightest of warmth.

the walk to kai's house was filled with the soft murmurs of conversation, the occasional burst of laughter, and the sound of your footsteps against the pavement. the night was crisp, the air cool against your skin, making you pull your jacket a little tighter around your shoulders. taehyung walked beside you, his presence warm and reassuring. every so often, his hand would brush against yours, a small reminder that he was there, keeping close.

doyoung sidled up to you with a grin. his eyes sparkled under the streetlights, and he leaned in a little closer, his voice dropping to a soft murmur meant just for you. “you look stunning tonight,” he said, his tone sincere, his gaze lingering on you for a moment too long.

you smiled at the compliment, feeling a slight warmth in your cheeks. “thanks, do,” you replied, the words leaving your lips with a casual ease, though you could feel the tension brewing beside you. taehyung’s eyes narrowed slightly, his gaze flicking to him with a sharpness that was hard to miss. his jaw tightened, the muscles flexing as he clenched his teeth, the protective side of him bubbling to the surface. there was something possessive in the way he looked at doyoung, a silent warning that needed no words.

the tension was palpable, but doyoung, ever oblivious or simply choosing to ignore it, continued on, walking ahead with his usual carefree demeanor. jennie shot you a knowing look, her lips curling into a slight smirk. she knew taehyung well enough to catch the subtle shift in his mood, and it amused her to no end.

kai’s house came into view, a beacon of chaos and noise at the end of the street. even from a distance, you could hear the music thumping, the bass reverberating through the ground, sending small vibrations up your legs. the front yard was littered with people, some standing in clusters, others sprawled out on the grass, red cups in hand. the porch light flickered, casting an eerie glow over the scene, adding to the sense of wild abandon that hung in the air. the unease you had felt earlier began to creep back in, settling like a cold weight in the pit of your stomach. something about the atmosphere tonight felt off, as if the darkness held secrets just waiting to be unveiled. you tried to shake it off, telling yourself it was just nerves, the remnants of the fear from last night clinging to you like a shadow.

as you approached the front steps, kai burst out of the front door, his grin wide and mischievous. he didn’t waste a second before throwing his arms around jennie, lifting her effortlessly off the ground as she squealed with delight. he spun her around, her laughter mixing with the thumping bass, and when he finally set her down, his eyes found yours.

“the most important thing tonight,” he began, his voice loud enough to be heard over the music, “is to have fun.” his grin widened, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes, something almost ominous as he added, “and to not die.”

doyoung, ever the skeptic, rolled his eyes, pushing past him with a dismissive wave. “dramatic much?” he muttered, disappearing into the throng of people inside the house. kai just chuckled, a low sound that sent a shiver down your spine. but before you could dwell on it, you felt taehyung’s hand slip into yours, his fingers lacing through yours with a comforting warmth. he turned to you, his gaze softening as he took in your expression, the worry etched in the lines of your face.

“you okay?” he asked, his voice low, meant just for you. you forced a smile, squeezing his hand in return. “i will be after a drink.” as if he had anticipated your need, he pulled a beer from behind his back, presenting it to you with a small, reassuring smile. you took it, grateful for the distraction, and popped the cap off, taking a long, deep sip. the cold liquid slid down your throat, a welcome relief that eased some of the tension coiled inside you.

the scene at the party was an absolute shitshow, a whirlwind of chaos and drunken revelry. people were everywhere, crowding the small space, their voices raised in raucous laughter and slurred conversation. bottles were scattered across the floor, some still full, others empty and abandoned. the smell of alcohol and sweat hung heavy in the air, mingling with the scent of cigarette smoke and something sweet, like pot.

the lights inside were dim, casting long shadows across the room, making it hard to see more than a few feet in front of you. the music was loud, almost too loud, vibrating through the walls and making it difficult to think. everywhere you looked, there was a new scene of debauchery—people making out in corners, others dancing with reckless abandon, the whole place a pulsing, chaotic mess.

you were still taking in the wild scene when suddenly, out of nowhere, a bottle flew across the room, headed straight for you. before you could even react, taehyung was there, his arm wrapping around your waist as he pulled you down, helping you duck just in time to avoid the glass projectile. the bottle shattered against the wall behind you, the sound of breaking glass cutting through the music. taehyung was up in an instant, turning on the guy who had thrown it, his eyes flashing with anger as he shoved the guy hard into a nearby table.

“what the fuck is your problem?” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. the guy, clearly drunk out of his mind, raised his hands in defense, his eyes wide with fear. “it was an accident, man. i swear.”

you quickly grabbed taehyung’s arm, pulling him back. “it’s okay, tae. it’s fine. just let it go.” he hesitated, his body still tense with anger, but finally, he stepped back, though not without giving the guy one last warning glare. kai appeared out of nowhere, slipping between them with a grin, trying to diffuse the situation. “it’s a party, man,” he said, clapping a hand on taehyung’s shoulder. “shit happens.”

taehyung didn’t look convinced, but he let it go, turning his attention back to you before glancing at jennie, his voice monotone. “we’re out of beer. you should grab some more from the garage.”

jennie pouted, crossing her arms. “that’s so far away, though.” kai just laughed, giving her a playful slap on the ass. “yeah, come on, it’s not that far. i’ll owe you one.”

she rolled her eyes, but there was a playful smile on her lips as she finally agreed. “fine, but you better make it up to me later.” as she headed off toward the garage, kai turned back to you with a grin. but you barely registered his presence, your thoughts still on taehyung, on the way he had jumped to your defense without hesitation. it was comforting, knowing he had your back, but the tension in his eyes as he watched you made your heart race for reasons you weren’t quite ready to examine.

jennie let out an exaggerated sigh as she trudged across the backyard, the cool night air sending a shiver down her spine. she wrapped her arms around herself, not so much from the cold, but from the irritation bubbling beneath her skin. of all the things she could be doing at kai’s party, fetching more beer wasn’t exactly what she had in mind. “this is so far,” she muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes as she stomped her way to the garage. “and of course, i’m the one who has to go get it. stupid kai and his stupid beer.”

she reached the garage and yanked the door open with a bit more force than necessary, the hinges creaking in protest. the garage was dimly lit, a single bulb hanging from the ceiling, casting long shadows that made the space feel smaller than it was. jennie flicked the light switch near the door, and the fluorescent lights buzzed to life, flooding the garage with harsh, artificial light.

“ugh,” she groaned, dragging her feet as she made her way to the old fridge in the corner. rhe fridge was ancient, its white paint chipped and peeling, but it still worked, and that was all that mattered to kai. she opened the fridge door, the cold air rushing out to meet her as she leaned down to grab the bottles of beer. “he better make this up to me,” she muttered to herself, annoyed that she had to be the one to do this. she piled a few bottles into her arms, balancing them carefully as she reached for more.

just as she was about to stand, the lights in the garage flickered once before plunging the entire space into darkness. she froze, her heart skipping a beat as the sudden darkness enveloped her. she stayed crouched, the bottles still clutched in her arms, the cold seeping through the glass and into her skin.

“kai, that’s so not funny,” she called out, her voice echoing off the walls of the garage. the only response was silence, thick and oppressive, pressing down on her from all sides. her irritation quickly turned to anger, the darkness feeding her frustration. she straightened up, holding the bottles close to her chest as she scanned the garage, though she could see nothing. “i swear to god, if you don’t turn the lights back on, i’m gonna kick your ass.” the darkness seemed to stretch on forever, the silence gnawing at her nerves. then, just as suddenly as they had gone out, the lights flickered back on.

jennie’s breath caught in her throat, her heart slamming against her ribs as she found herself face to face with a masked figure. the mask was featureless, a smooth, blank surface that revealed nothing of the person behind it. the eyes and mouth, low and pitch black. the cloaked figure was standing by the exit, blocking her only way out, their presence looming like a dark shadow over her. one of the bottles slipped from her grasp, falling to the concrete floor with a shattering crash that seemed to echo in the now deathly quiet garage. her pulse roared in her ears, her mind racing as panic set in.

the figure didn’t move, didn’t make a sound, just stood there, watching her with an unnerving stillness. jennie was walled in, the only other exit behind her, too far to reach before the figure could close the distance. she could feel the adrenaline surging through her veins, her body screaming at her to move, to do something. without thinking, she grabbed one of the remaining bottles and hurled it at the figure with all her strength. the glass smashed against the figure’s shoulder, and they staggered back slightly, but it wasn’t enough to knock them down. a second bottle followed, then a third, each one flying through the air with a desperation born of fear.

“fuck!” she spat, her voice trembling as she reached for the button to open the garage door. she pressed it frantically, over and over, willing the door to rise faster. the mechanism groaned in response, the door inching upward at a painfully slow pace. she dropped the last bottle, her hands shaking as she crouched down, trying to crawl under the rising door. her breath came in short, panicked gasps, her chest tight with terror as the door seemed to move at a snail’s pace. the cold concrete scraped against her palms and knees as she scrambled to escape.

but just as she was about to slip out, the figure reached up and pressed the button, sending the door back down with a jarring thud. her heart lurched in her chest as she realized what was happening, her eyes widening in horror.

“no, no, no!” she cried, scrambling to get out before the door closed completely. But the figure was faster, their gloved hand latching onto the hem of her dress, yanking her back with a force that sent her sprawling. the garage door continued its descent, trapping her underneath as it closed, her body pinned against the cold concrete. she tried to crawl out, to free herself, but the door kept coming down, pressing her harder into the ground. her screams were muffled by the steel, the sound of her panic echoing in the confined space.

the figure watched, their head tilted to the side as if they were considering something. then, with a chilling calmness, they spoke, their voice low and mocking.

“did all the work for me,” the figure said, their tone laced with satisfaction as jennie’s body was slowly crushed beneath the door. her breath came in ragged gasps, her mind reeling from the pain, the sheer terror of what was happening to her. her screams caught in her throat as the door finally settled, the cold metal pressing down on her chest, crushing the air from her lungs. her vision blurred, her world narrowing to the intense pain and the horrifying realization that she was about to die.

“quite the catch,” the figure said, their voice cold and detached as they watched jennie’s body twitch beneath the door. there was no pity, no remorse in their tone, just a chilling satisfaction as her life slipped away. the last thing she heard before the darkness swallowed her whole was the figure’s voice, echoing in the stillness of the garage, a final, cruel taunt as she slipped into oblivion.

the soft thrum of bass-heavy music from the party downstairs barely reached kai's bedroom, muffled by the thick walls and closed door. you lay sprawled across his king-sized bed, the silken sheets cool against your flushed skin. the room spun slightly from the alcohol, your limbs heavy and loose as you sank deeper into the mattress, too intoxicated to care about anything else. the world outside the door, the raucous chaos of the party, felt miles away as you closed your eyes, letting the comfort of the bed envelop you.

a faint knock echoed through the room, so soft you barely registered it. in any other state, the sound would’ve sent a jolt of fear through your system, but now, it was almost comforting, a familiar rhythm that set your heart at ease. there was no hesitation, no sense of dread—just a warmth spreading through your chest as the door creaked open.

a smile tugged at your lips, lazy and affectionate, as you watched him enter. he was as disheveled as you were, the same unsteady, drunken sway to his movements. His presence filled the room, the air thickening with an almost electric charge as he crossed the threshold, closing the door behind him with a soft click.

“hey, you,” you murmured, your voice slurred with alcohol and affection. he didn’t respond with words, just a knowing smirk that sent a shiver down your spine. the black and white mask obscured his features, but you could see the mischievous glint in his eyes, the way he looked at you with a mixture of desire and something darker, something more dangerous. he was right in front of you now, and you didn’t hesitate. your hands reached out, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt, pulling him down onto the bed with you. he let out a surprised laugh as he collapsed on top of you, his body warm and solid against yours.

“how do you expect me to kiss you with this mask on?” you teased, your fingers already slipping beneath the edges of the mask, tugging it off his face. he didn’t resist, letting you reveal the familiar features beneath, the sharp lines of his jaw, the fullness of his lips twisted into a smirk that made your heart race. the black cloak he wore was loose, the fabric cool beneath your hands as you traced your fingers over it, feeling the muscles tense beneath his clothes. his smile widened, a glint of something wicked in his eyes as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin.

“it’s still dirty,” he whispered, his voice low and husky, sending a shiver down your spine. taehyung paused, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he continued, “you must’ve gotten her good.”

your heart skipped a beat, the world slowing down for a moment as his words sank in. the meaning behind them, the dark thrill of your shared secret, sent a rush of adrenaline through your veins, chasing away the last remnants of drunken haze. you pressed your knee into his clothed crotch, feeling the way his breath hitched, the way his body reacted to your touch. “she did all the work for me,” you whispered, your voice low and seductive, a smirk playing on your lips as you leaned in, pressing a kiss to his neck. he groaned softly, his hands tightening their grip on you as you continued, “hanging from the door like a flag, you should’ve seen it.”

his eyes darkened, a feral hunger in his gaze as he pulled back just enough to look at you, his hand sliding up to wrap around your throat, squeezing just enough to make your breath hitch. he leaned in closer, his lips hovering over yours as he whispered, “you’re gonna get us caught if you keep pulling this shit.” a moan slipped past your lips as his thumb pressed against your lower lip, his eyes locked on yours as you parted your lips, taking his thumb into your mouth. you could taste the salt of his skin, the faintest hint of alcohol lingering on him as you swirled your tongue around his thumb, drawing a deep groan from his chest.

“she had it coming for talking about you the way she did,” you murmured around his thumb, your voice muffled but clear in its intent. his thumb left your mouth, trailing down to spread the spit across your lips, smearing the wetness in a way that made your breath catch. “just like hyein,” you added, your voice a breathy whisper as you looked up at him through half-lidded eyes. taehyung’s smirk grew wider, a dangerous glint in his eyes as he leaned down, pressing a single kiss to your lips, soft and fleeting.

“getting yunho was just as easy,” he purred, his voice like silk as it wrapped around you, making your head spin with the implications of his words. his lips hovered over yours, the tension between you crackling like electricity. “no one gets to look at you the way i do.”

and then, the distance between you vanished, his lips crashing into yours with a heat that seared through your entire being. the kiss was intense, a wild clash of tongues and teeth, a desperate, all-consuming need that neither of you could ignore. your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss as his hand tightened around your throat, the pressure just enough to make your head swim, to make you gasp against his mouth. he devoured you, his kiss rough and demanding, as if he couldn’t get enough, as if he needed to mark you, claim you as his in every way possible. and you let him, every fiber of your being surrendering to the dark, twisted desire that had brought you both to this moment, your shared secret binding you together in a way that was both thrilling and terrifying. the world outside ceased to exist, leaving only the two of you, locked in a passionate embrace that threatened to consume you both.

his other hand found its way to your chest, his fingers deftly unbuttoning your shirt, pushing it aside to expose your bare skin to the cool air. he broke the kiss, his eyes raking over your body with a hunger that left you trembling. “so fucking perfect,” he murmured, his voice thick with lust as his thumb circled one of your nipples, watching it pebble beneath his touch. you arched into his hand, a soft moan escaping your lips as he pinched it lightly, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. your hips bucked against his, desperation building in your core, the need for more overwhelming you. he chuckled darkly, his eyes never leaving yours as he bent his head, his mouth closing over your sensitive tit, his teeth grazing it just hard enough to make you cry out.

the sound of fabric tearing filled the room as he ripped your shirt away completely, his mouth moving to your other nipple, giving it the same treatment as the first. you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, your nails digging into his back as he continued his relentless assault on your senses. taehyung’s hand trailed down your stomach, slipping into the waistband of your pants, his fingertips grazing your wet pussy. the sensation sent a jolt of pleasure through you, making you moan his name, a desperate plea for more. without warning, he pulled his hand away, leaving you panting and needy.

he sat back on his heels, his eyes on your flushed face, the smug look in his eyes making your stomach clench. “you want it?” he asked, his voice a low growl. “want me to fuck you like the slut you are?” you nodded, unable to form words, your eyes never leaving his. with a wicked grin, he stood up, pulling you with him so that you were on your knees in front of him.

“then prove it,” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. “take my cock out and suck it like you’ve never had anything better in your mouth.” you eagerly complied, your hands shaking as you unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants, freeing his hard length. you took it in your mouth, the taste of him making your eyes roll back in your head, the way he filled you up making you feel so fucking alive. he groaned, his hand fisting in your hair as he began to fuck your mouth, his hips driving into you with a rhythm that was both punishing and perfect. and you loved every second of it, the feel of him stretching your lips, the way his cock hit the back of your throat, the power he had over you in that moment. it was intoxicating, addictive, a dance of control and submission that you never wanted to end. but he needed it to end, he needed to fill you up. before doing so, he needed a taste of you.

he pulled out of your mouth with a wet pop, his eyes glazed with lust as he stepped back, pushing you onto the bed. “turn over,” he ordered, his voice firm. you did as you were told, your heart racing as you felt him climb onto the bed behind you. your pants were already around your ankles, your pussy exposed and begging for his attention. his hand came down hard on your ass, the slap echoing in the quiet room, leaving a stinging heat in its wake. “spread your legs,” he demanded, and you obeyed, feeling vulnerable and exposed in the best way possible. his hand moved between your legs, his fingers sliding through your wetness before pushing inside you, his thumb circling your clit in a way that had you seeing stars. his other hand wrapped around your throat again, the pressure building as he began to fuck you with his fingers, his thumb pressing down on your clit with every thrust. your moans grew louder, more desperate, your body writhing under his touch.

his voice was a harsh whisper in your ear, his breath hot against your neck. “you’re gonna cum for me, aren’t you?” you nodded, unable to form words as he worked your body, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. and then, just as you felt yourself about to fall over, he stopped, his hand leaving your pussy to come down on your ass again, the sting of the slap making you gasp. “you can’t cum until i’m inside you,” he said, his voice a mix of pleasure and threat. your pussy clenched around his fingers, desperate for more, and he chuckled, the sound sending a shiver down your spine.

you watched, mesmerized, as he positioned himself at your entrance, his cock slick with your juices. “are you ready for me?” he asked, his voice a low growl. “yes, please,” you breathed, your voice shaky with anticipation. and then, with one swift, brutal thrust, he was inside you, filling you completely, stretching you in the most delicious way. you screamed, the pleasure and pain mixing into a heady cocktail that had you seeing white. he didn’t give you time to adjust, just began to fuck you, hard and fast, his grip on your throat tightening as he drove into you. your walls clamped down around him, your body desperately trying to keep him inside, to never let him go.

his hand left your throat, his fingers finding their way to your mouth, pushing themselves inside, making you gag. “suck them clean,” he ordered, his voice thick with lust. you obeyed, your mouth moving over his fingers, sucking them clean of your juices. the humiliation of it only added to the thrill, the taste of yourself on his fingers making you even wetter. and then, with his hand fisted in your hair, he pulled you back, his cock sliding out of you with a wet sound that made you whimper. “turn around,” he said, his voice dark. “i wanna see your face when i make you cum.”

you rolled onto your back, your legs spread wide, your pussy glistening with need. taehyung climbed over you, his cock poised at your entrance again. “ask for it,” he said, his eyes boring into yours. “please,” you whispered, your voice a desperate whine. “please, taehyung, fuck me. make me cum for you.” he didn't comply instantly, no. you watched him with careful, desperate eyes that, despite your intoxicated state, couldn't help but widen as you watched him pull the mask over his face. it shouldn't have turned you on as much as it did, but the sight of him in the same mask you had on hours prior—it did it for you. as twisted and demented as he was, you didn't care. because, you were worse.

the mask was vicious, his clothed eyes gleaming with triumph as he slammed into you, his hips moving with a brutal rhythm that had you clawing at the bed, your nails digging into the sheets. the sound of skin slapping skin filled the room, mingling with your moans and his grunts of pleasure. “you like that?” he asked, his voice taunting and muffled. “you like it when i fuck you like a whore?” you nodded, your eyes never leaving his, the words only serving to turn you on more. his hand moved from your hair to your tit, squeezing it hard, his thumb flicking at your nipple. “then cum for me, baby. cum all over my cock.” and just like that, with his words echoing in your ears.

you clawed at his arms when you finally came, your pussy clenching around his throbbing dick. you held onto him desperately, teary eyes boring into the mask's soulless, black ones as you came with a moan. you could feel his sloppy pace reaching its peak, his hips slamming against yours as he threw his head back, a loud moan passing his lips as his hips stuttered, every rope of thick, sticky cum filling you up.

the room was thick with the scent of sweat and lust, the sheets tangled around your limbs as you lay tangled with taehyung, your bodies glistening in the dim light. the frantic heat still lingered in the air, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you tried to catch it, your skin pressed against his. his arm was draped over your waist, fingers tracing lazy patterns on your hip as you both reveled in the afterglow, a sense of satisfaction and victory hanging between you.

but then, cutting through the hazy warmth of the moment, the shrill wail of police sirens pierced the night air. the sound was distant at first, but growing closer, louder, with each passing second. your heart seized in your chest, the intoxicating haze evaporating in an instant, replaced by a cold, hard fear. you could feel him tense beside you, his hand freezing on your hip as your wide eyes met his, panic flickering across his features. “shit,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart. the reality of the situation crashed down on you, all traces of your earlier euphoria vanishing as the sirens drew nearer, the flashing blue and red lights casting an eerie glow through the window.

he was already moving, his body a blur of motion as he threw the sheets off, scrambling to grab the black and white mask that had been tossed carelessly to the floor in the heat of the moment. you followed suit, adrenaline surging through your veins as you hurried to pull on whatever clothes you could find scattered around the room. “we need to get out of here,” you urged him, your voice tight with urgency as you stumbled over to the window, throwing it open. the cool night air rushed in, a stark contrast to the warmth of the room, making you shiver as you glanced back at him.

taehyung was already folding the mask into the black cloak, his movements quick and efficient despite the tremor in his hands. he looked up at you, his eyes wide with a mixture of fear and something else—something darker, more determined. “they can’t catch us,” he said, his voice low but firm as he stepped over to you, the cloak bundled in his arms. you nodded, swallowing hard as you glanced out the window, assessing the drop to the ground below. it wasn’t too high, but with the sirens growing louder by the second, it might as well have been a cliff.

“go,” you urged him again, your voice cracking with the weight of the situation. “i’ll be right behind you.” he didn’t need any more convincing. he hoisted himself up onto the windowsill, his movements fluid and practiced as he glanced back at you one last time, a flicker of something passing between you—a silent understanding, a promise.

and then he was gone, dropping down from the window, landing with a soft thud on the grass below. you wasted no time, clambering up onto the sill, your heart in your throat as you took one last look at the bedroom, at the scene you were leaving behind. you dropped down beside him, the impact jarring your legs, but you pushed through the discomfort, the fear driving you forward. he grabbed your hand the moment you landed, his grip firm and reassuring as he pulled you along, his pace quickening with each step.

you didn’t dare look back, the sound of the sirens now deafening, the flashing lights illuminating the surrounding trees as you ran. the world blurred around you, your focus narrowing to the path ahead, to the way taehyung’s hand fit so perfectly in yours, pulling you along, guiding you through the darkness. your lungs burned, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you pushed yourself harder, faster, refusing to slow down, to let the fear catch up to you. the night air was cold against your skin, the chill biting at your exposed flesh, but you didn’t care. all that mattered was getting away, putting as much distance between you and the house as possible.

his hands were shaking as he fumbled with the keys, the metal clinking ominously in the quiet of the night. your breath came in sharp, panicked bursts as you watched him struggle, the weight of your recent escape pressing heavily upon you. the police sirens had long since faded, but the tension remained, a palpable reminder of the chaos you had just fled.

he finally managed to get the key into the lock, but as he turned it, the door refused to budge. the sound of the bolt sliding back met with a soft click, and you could see the glow of light from within spilling out into the darkness. the door was locked, but the lights were on, a strange contradiction that only heightened the sense of unease swirling around you. his breath hitched, a mix of frustration and apprehension etched onto his face. he pushed against the door, his shoulder braced against it, and it swung open with a reluctant groan. the living room was illuminated, casting long shadows against the walls, and there, sprawled casually on the couch, was kai.

the sight of him froze you both in place. taehyung’s face was a mask of shock and confusion, and you felt a chill creep up your spine. kai’s manic grin was unmistakable, but there was a frenetic edge to it that sent a shiver down your back. he looked up at you both, his eyes wild and unblinking, a frenzied energy crackling around him.

“hey,” he said, his voice high-pitched, almost giddy. “just had a question. been nagging me the last three hours.”

the silence was oppressive, a heavy blanket that seemed to suffocate the room. kai’s eyes darted between you and taehyung, the intensity of his gaze sharpening as he continued, “which one of you killed my girlfriend?”

the words hung in the air like a thick fog, each syllable punctuated by a dreadful silence. your heart pounded in your chest as kai’s eyes fell on the cloak in taehyung’s hands. his laughter erupted suddenly, a jarring, discordant sound that had no trace of humor in it. “it couldn’t have been you,” he sneered, his voice dripping with a twisted sort of amusement. “no, it had to be her.”

his gaze turned toward you, darkening with malice. “you just had to, didn’t you?” you met his eyes with a steady resolve, stepping forward as you replied, “she had it coming.”

kai’s manic energy seemed to intensify, his movements erratic as he continued, “no, no, see, there’s a big difference. when i came to your place and fucked you over, you didn’t think for a second that it was me, did you?”

the revelation hit like a punch to the gut, leaving both you and taehyung stunned into silence. the room seemed to spin, the enormity of his words reverberating through you, punctuated only by his cackles that seemed to grow more unhinged with each passing second. “it’s a shame it had to end like this,” kai said, a dark satisfaction in his voice as he began to reach for his gun, his movements slow but deliberate.

without a moment’s hesitation, you drew your own pistol, the cold metal weight steady in your hand. the sharp report of the gunshot shattered the air, and his body lurched backward, the impact of the bullet slamming into his chest. he staggered, falling to the floor with a ragged gasp, his eyes wide with shock and pain. as he struggled, gasping for breath, you walked over to him with a calm, purposeful stride. his hand reached for his own gun, but you were quicker. you kicked it away, the weapon skidding across the floor, and then you knelt beside him, the barrel of your pistol still warm from the recent discharge.

“didn’t think for a second that i was armed too, did you?” you said, your voice low, almost mocking.

his eyes burned with anger and desperation, his mouth moving in a silent snarl as he reached out, his hand clawing at the floor. his breaths came in ragged, painful gasps, and you could see the life slipping from his eyes, a flicker of defiance lingering until the very end.

“you,” he managed to rasp, his voice barely a whisper now, filled with rage and betrayal. but the words were his last, the fire in his eyes fading to a cold, empty stare as the life drained from him. before he was gone, you leaned in closer, your gaze meeting his with a steely resolve. “say hi to jennie for us,” you said, your voice steady and unyielding.

hia eyes, still burning with that final spark of fury, locked onto you for one last, lingering moment before they went vacant. the struggle ceased, his body going limp, his anger dissipating into the silence of the room. you stood up slowly, your heart still pounding but with a different rhythm now, the weight of the situation settling heavily on your shoulders. taehyung moved closer, his hand resting on your back in a gesture of support and reassurance. the room was eerily quiet now, the chaos of the night giving way to a stillness that felt almost oppressive in its finality.

taehyung’s eyes were wide with uncertainty, a mix of shock and confusion etching deep lines into his features as he stared at the lifeless form of kai. he swallowed hard, his voice trembling slightly as he asked, “what do we do now?”

you took a moment, your mind racing through the aftermath of the night’s harrowing events. the weight of what had just happened pressed heavily upon you, and in the eerie stillness of the room, clarity emerged from the chaos. “call the cops,” you finally said, your voice firm and resolute. taehyung’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, his shock evident. “call the cops?” he repeated, disbelief coloring his tone.

you nodded, tucking your gun away into the waistband of your jeans, the cold metal pressing against your skin as you covered it with your shirt. you moved with purpose, taking the cloak and mask from taehyung and placing the mask carefully next to kai’s head. the sight was almost surreal—a stark reminder of the roles you’d all played in this deadly game.

he hesitated for a moment before pulling out his phone, his fingers moving swiftly over the screen as he dialed the emergency number. “hello,” he said, his voice steady despite the tremor in his hands. “there’s been an incident at my house. the killer was here, and my girlfriend shot him with his own gun.” he paused, listening intently as he relayed the details of the situation. after a brief exchange, he ended the call and turned back to you, his expression one of cautious resolve.

together, you both moved to dress kai in the cloak. the fabric was heavy, its dark color a stark contrast against the cold, pale skin of the deceased. taehyung’s movements were methodical, almost reverent, as he helped you fold the cloak around his body. the finality of the act was palpable, a grim reminder of the life that had been extinguished.

once he was dressed, you met taehyung’s gaze. there was a complex blend of relief and pride in his eyes, an acknowledgment of the darkness you both had been complicit in. “we did it,” he said softly, a faint, bittersweet smile curving his lips. in response, you reached up and kissed him, the touch of your lips against his both comforting and electric. the kiss was filled with unspoken words, a fleeting moment of intimacy amidst the turmoil.

the sound of sirens pierced through the quiet, growing louder as they approached. the flashing lights of the police cars bathed the exterior of the house in a strobe of red and blue, casting eerie shadows on the walls. you and taehyung stepped outside to meet the officers, the weight of the night’s events hanging heavily around you.

the cops moved swiftly, their professional demeanor a stark contrast to the chaos of the scene. they began by cordoning off the area, their voices authoritative as they directed one another. dorensics teams arrived, meticulously documenting the scene and examining kai’s body. the whole process felt like a surreal blur, the activity around you a stark contrast to the calm, unsettling stillness of the night before.

as the investigation unfolded, it was clear that the narrative being pieced together was one of self-defense. the officers and detectives, with their experience and training, quickly determined that kai had been the aggressor, and your actions had been in response to his threat. the cloak and mask beside him were interpreted as part of the killer’s disguise, lending further credence to the story that you had acted to protect yourself.

the official statement from the police was that kai had been the killer all this time, and your shooting him had been justified under the circumstances. you and taehyung were presented to the town as heroes—brave individuals who had faced down a menace and emerged victorious. the accolades were swift and fervent, with the local news and community rallying around you both. yet, beneath the veneer of heroism, a darker truth lingered unspoken. the town’s relief and gratitude masked the reality that you and taehyung had not simply acted in self-defense but had been players in a deadly game that had claimed more than its share of lives. the false sense of safety you projected contrasted sharply with the cold reality of the truth you both carried within.

in the aftermath, as you and taehyung stood side by side, the echoes of that night—the fear, the violence, the blood—remained with you. the town might have seen you as heroes, but you both knew the reality was far more complicated, a shadow that clung to you as you faced the new day with a somber understanding of the darkness that had driven you to this point.

✧.*

a/n: im ngl i was gonna kill taehyung off im being way too nice

crazy how even google knows

therapeutic (테라퓨틱) — lee taeyong (이태용)

✧.* 18+

the mind, a vast labyrinth, held within its delicate folds the secrets of every human experience. it was a realm both familiar and foreign, a place where memories danced like shadows on ancient walls, where emotions ebbed and flowed like the tides, and where thoughts wove themselves into the fabric of reality. in that particular domain, the boundaries between the conscious and the unconscious blurred, creating a landscape that was as treacherous as it was beautiful.

for centuries, humanity had sought to understand the mind's inner workings, to decipher the language of neurons and synapses that whispered the truths of existence. yet, despite all the knowledge amassed, the mind remained an enigma, a force capable of both creation and destruction. it could be a sanctuary, a place of solace where dreams flourished, or a prison, where fears and anxieties festered in the dark corners, unbidden and unwelcome.

why do i think the way i do? why do i behave the way i do? why do we find ourselves begging the question, that three-letter question—why? too long has it been a double-edged sword, that question. those who ventured too close to the edge found themselves lost in a labyrinth of their own making, searching for a way out that sometimes seemed impossible to find.

the mind was both a protector and a betrayer. it could shield one from the harshness of reality, crafting illusions and fantasies that soothed the soul. but it could also turn against its owner, unraveling the very threads of their being until they were left exposed, vulnerable to the relentless onslaught of their inner demons. the mind could be a gentle guide, leading one toward healing and self-discovery, or a merciless tormentor, dragging them deeper into the abyss.

the path to mental well-being was not a straight one; it twisted and turned, often doubling back on itself in a confounding maze. it required courage to traverse, or facing the darkest parts of oneself, the fears and doubts that lay hidden beneath the surface. it meant confronting the wounds of the past, allowing them to bleed so they might eventually heal. and it meant accepting that some scars would never fully fade, that they were as much a part of the self as the mind that bore them.

the office you called your own was a home of sorts, a place where the issues of the outside world were left at the door, and the echoes of troubled minds found solace. it was a space curated to ease the burdens carried by those who sought your counsel. the walls were painted in soft, muted tones—an earthy beige that mimicked the comforting embrace of nature. sunlight filtered through the gauzy curtains, casting a gentle glow that softened the edges of the room and made it feel safe, inviting.

your desk, though functional, was devoid of the sterility one might expect in a clinical setting. instead, it was adorned with books—volumes on psychology, philosophy, and the occasional novel that you found particularly stirring. there was a small plant, a gift from a patient who had once come to you in a state of complete disarray, now thriving under your care much as she had under your guidance. everything in the room was carefully chosen to exude warmth, from the plush armchairs that encouraged relaxation to the subtle scent of lavender that lingered in the air, a calming presence in and of itself.

patients came to you from all walks of life, each bringing with them a story woven from the threads of their experiences, traumas, and desires. there were those who arrived at your doorstep with their defences up, their walls built high. but you had a way with people, a way that transcended the clinical distance that often characterized the relationships between psychiatrist and patient. you didn’t just listen to them—you heard them, truly, deeply. you took in not only their words but also the silences between them, the unspoken fears that hid behind carefully chosen phrases, the way their eyes darted away when a subject became too painful to confront.

your reputation had spread quietly, almost organically. it wasn’t that you were a miracle worker or that you possessed some mystical ability to cure what ailed them. rather, it was your presence, the way you made people feel seen and understood without judgment, that drew them in. you never approached a session with preconceived notions or diagnoses waiting to be confirmed. each patient was a blank canvas, and it was your role to help them paint the picture that best represented their truth, no matter how fragmented or abstract it might be.

pills had always been a contentious issue for you. the pharmaceutical industry, with its glossy advertisements and promises of quick fixes, had never sat well with you. to you, the mind was not a machine that could be fine-tuned with a simple dose of chemicals. it was a complex, ever-evolving entity, influenced by experiences, environment, and relationships. you believed that true healing came not from numbing the symptoms but from addressing the root causes, from understanding and untangling the web of emotions and memories that led to a patient’s distress.

when the need for medication arose—and it did, at times, arise—you approached it with the utmost caution. you prescribed only the smallest doses necessary, believing firmly in the principle of ‘less is more.’ and even then, you coupled any prescription with a robust plan of therapy, ensuring that the medication was merely a tool to assist in the journey, not the journey itself. the low dosages you recommended rarely led to backlash, and your patients appreciated your restraint, knowing that you were not one to dole out pills like candy but rather used them as a last resort.

it was in your interactions with your patients that your true skill shone. each session was a dance, a delicate balance of guiding and listening, of leading without forcing. you never rushed them, never pushed them to confront more than they were ready to face. instead, you let them set the pace, allowing the conversation to flow naturally. and when the time came to delve deeper, you did so with a gentleness that put them at ease.

park minhyuk, a man in his early forties who had walked into your office carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. his face was lined with the stress of a life lived under constant pressure, his eyes betraying a deep-seated weariness. he had been referred to you by a friend who spoke highly of your methods. the first time he sat across from you, he looked hesitant, almost skeptical, as if he didn’t quite believe that talking could help him.

“i’m not sure this is going to work,” he had said, his voice heavy with doubt. “i’ve been to therapists before. they all just tell me to take some pills and come back in a few weeks.”

you leaned back in your chair, studying him with a calm, measured gaze. “i’m not here to force anything on you, mister park,” you replied softly. “i’m here to listen, and we’ll move at a pace that feels right for you. there’s no rush.” he had looked at you then, really looked at you, as if searching for something, some sign that you were different. you met his gaze steadily, offering nothing but the quiet assurance that you were there to help, not to judge.

over time, he began to open up, slowly at first, testing the waters. he spoke of his job, the immense pressure to succeed, the constant fear of failure that gnawed at him day and night. he talked about his family, the wife and children he loved dearly but felt disconnected from, the guilt that weighed on him for not being more present in their lives. as he spoke, you listened—not just to his words but to the pain behind them. you noticed the way his hands clenched and unclenched when he talked about his work, the slight tremor in his voice when he mentioned his children. and when he finally began to talk about the darker thoughts that sometimes crept into his mind, the moments when he wondered if it would be easier just to disappear, you didn’t react with shock or alarm. instead, you nodded, acknowledging his feelings without judgment.

“i understand that it feels overwhelming,” you said gently. “but it’s important to remember that these thoughts, as heavy as they are, don’t define you. they’re part of what you’re going through, but they don’t have to be the end of your story.” he looked at you then, a flicker of hope in his tired eyes. “you really think i can get through this?”

“i do,” you replied, your voice steady and sure. “and i’m here to help you find the way.” his journey wasn’t easy, and there were setbacks along the way. but he returned week after week, drawn not just by your words but by the genuine care you showed. and slowly, almost imperceptibly at first, he began to heal. he started taking more time for himself, reconnecting with his family, finding ways to manage the stress that had once consumed him. the transformation wasn’t immediate, but it was real, and it was lasting.

your practice grew, not because you advertised or sought out patients, but because word of mouth spread. people spoke of you with a kind of reverence, not because you were a miracle worker, but because you offered them something rare in the world of mental health—a safe space where they could be themselves, where they could speak without fear of judgment, where they knew they would be heard.

even those who had been through the harshest of environments—prisoners, veterans, people who had been hardened by life—found solace in your office. they recommended you to others, saying, “you should see her. she’s different. she cares.” and they weren’t wrong. you had found your calling, not in the pills or the textbooks, but in the people who sat across from you, day after day, baring their souls in the hope of finding some relief from the burdens they carried. and you met them with compassion, with understanding, with a quiet strength that reassured them they were not alone.

despite your skill in navigating the landscapes of other’s minds, there was a vast, uncharted territory within your own that you could not seem to traverse. you could guide others out of their darkness, yet when it came to your own, you were perpetually lost, stumbling through a fog that only seemed to thicken with time. it was a darkness that you couldn’t quite pinpoint, a gnawing emptiness that seemed to have no origin, no clear beginning. you often wondered when it had all started, but the truth was as elusive as the peace you sought.

perhaps it began when your father left. you could still remember the day he walked out, his shadow stretching long across the floor as the door closed behind him. the silence that followed was deafening, a silence that you had been trying to fill ever since. you were young then, too young to understand why he was leaving, too young to grasp the implications. but the abandonment had left a scar, a deep, festering wound that never quite healed. you wondered if that was where it all began, this relentless feeling of being untethered, of floating aimlessly in a vast, empty space.

maybe it was when your mother overdosed, her lifeless body found slumped over in the bathroom, surrounded by the remnants of a life that had spiraled out of control. you had been the one to find her, a memory that still haunted you, that still woke you in the middle of the night drenched in sweat. the sight of her pale, lifeless face was seared into your mind, a constant reminder of the fragility of life, of how easily it could slip through your fingers. you had been left to pick up the pieces, to make sense of the senseless, and in doing so, you had buried your own grief, your own pain, deep within you, where it festered in the dark.

there were your grandparents, the last anchors in your life, the last semblance of stability. their deaths had come like a storm, sudden and unforgiving, leaving you alone in a world that seemed to be crumbling around you. they had been your safe haven, the only ones who understood the weight you carried, and when they were gone, it felt as though the ground had been ripped out from beneath you. alone. that word echoed in your mind, reverberating off the walls of your empty apartment, a constant reminder of your isolation.

you hated being alone. it wasn’t just a dislike; it was a deep-seated fear, a terror that clawed at you from the inside. when you were alone, your mind became a labyrinth of dark thoughts and memories, each corner hiding another shadow, another demon waiting to pounce. the silence was unbearable, suffocating, so you filled it with noise, any noise that could drown out the voices in your head. you couldn’t stand the short sessions with your patients, craving more time with them, more connection, more distraction from the void inside you. the hour would pass, and you would find yourself wanting to reach out, to extend the session, to hold on to the connection a little longer, just a little longer. but you never did. you were their healer, not the other way around.

housework became a ritual of distraction, each chore accompanied by the blaring sound of music that reverberated through the walls, filling the empty spaces with melodies that drowned out the silence. without music, the house felt too big, too empty, too full of memories you didn’t want to confront. you couldn’t sleep without a movie playing in the background, the flickering light and the familiar voices lulling you into a false sense of security. the thought of lying in bed in complete silence, left alone with your thoughts, was unbearable. so, the movies played, one after another, their comforting narratives keeping the darkness at bay for just a little while longer.

but at the end of the day, when the music stopped, when the movies ended, you were left with nothing but the quiet hum of the empty apartment and the stark realization that you were alone. no parents to comfort you, no friends to lean on, no boyfriend to share your life with. just you. and it wasn’t enough. you had poured so much of yourself into your work, into helping others heal, that you had neglected your own wounds, your own needs. you had become a vessel, emptying yourself for the sake of others until there was nothing left for you.

your patients were the only ones who filled that void, the only ones who made you feel needed, wanted. they confided in you, trusted you, relied on you, and for a while, it was enough. but they were temporary, each one coming to you broken and leaving whole, while you remained the same, a healer who couldn’t heal themselves. when they got better, when they no longer needed you, it broke your heart a little more each time, even though you knew it was coming. it was the nature of your work, after all, to help them, to guide them, and then to let them go. but the letting go was the hardest part because it meant returning to the silence, to the emptiness, to the loneliness that gnawed at you, growing stronger with each departure.

you were sitting in your office, the soft glow of the desk lamp casting long shadows across the room as you sifted through patient files and prescription bottles. the clock on the wall ticked away the minutes, but you barely noticed. the weight of the empty office felt like a cocoon, enclosing you in a familiar, if not comforting, solitude. the sterile smell of paper and faint traces of disinfectant mingled in the air, a scent that had become as much a part of your life as the darkness that you couldn't seem to shake.

the faint sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway, growing louder as they approached your door. you knew who it was before she even knocked—a gentle, almost tentative rap on the door, followed by the soft creak as it swung open. “still here?” your manager’s voice was gentle, but there was an underlying note of concern that she couldn’t quite mask. hara stepped into the room, her eyes sweeping over the scattered files and the bottles of pills lined up in neat rows on your desk. the look she gave you was one you’d seen many times before—a mix of empathy, perhaps a touch of pity, and something else that you couldn’t quite place.

you didn’t look up immediately, your eyes fixed on the file in front of you as you made a show of scribbling a note in the margins. “just wanted to get as much work done as i could,” you said, finally glancing up with a smile that felt foreign on your lips, a practiced expression that you’d perfected over the years. she didn’t say anything at first, just watched you with those knowing eyes of hers. then she moved closer, placing a hand on your shoulder. the touch was warm, grounding in a way that made you want to lean into it, to close your eyes and let the world fall away. but you didn’t. instead, you stayed still, your smile frozen in place.

“you need to rest,” she said softly, her voice carrying a warmth that made something in your chest tighten. she squeezed your shoulder gently before letting her hand drop back to her side. “i will,” you assured her, the lie slipping out as easily as all the others. it was what you were supposed to say, after all, what she expected to hear. but you both knew the truth, didn’t you? you weren’t planning on resting, not anytime soon. rest meant being alone with your thoughts, and that was something you couldn’t bear.

she sighed, a soft sound of resignation, and you could see the conflict in her eyes. she knew she should insist, should tell you to go home and take care of yourself. but she also knew what you would say, how you would deflect with that same smile and those same empty promises. so she didn’t push. instead, she gave you a small nod and fished a set of keys out of her pocket. “lock up when you’re done, alright?” she said, holding the keys out to you.

you reached out to take them, your fingers brushing against hers for the briefest moment before she pulled her hand back. “i will,” you said again, and this time she didn’t bother to respond. she just nodded, casting one last glance around your barren office—the empty desk devoid of personal touches, the phone that never rang—before turning and walking out of the room. the door clicked shut behind her, leaving you alone once more. the silence was palpable, pressing in around you, but you welcomed it. it was better than the alternative. you turned back to the files, flipping through them with the pretense of work, but your mind was elsewhere, lost in the fog that seemed to constantly hover just at the edges of your consciousness.

you let the minutes tick by, the hours bleeding into one another as you went through the same files, the same bottles, over and over again. you knew there was nothing left to do, nothing left to distract yourself with, but you couldn’t bring yourself to leave. not yet. not when you knew what awaited you outside—the cold, unwelcoming night, the empty apartment, the silence that you couldn’t drown out. but eventually, the futility of your actions became impossible to ignore. the same patient files stared back at you, the same labels on the bottles mocking you with their uselessness. you sighed, a long, drawn-out exhalation of breath that carried with it all the weariness you felt but couldn’t show. there was nothing left to do, no more excuses to stay.

reluctantly, you gathered the files and put them back in their proper place, the routine motions bringing you no comfort. the click of the lock on the file cabinet echoed in the empty room, a finality that made your heart sink. you picked up the keys your manager had left you, your fingers curling around the cool metal, and stood up. the room was dark now, the only light coming from the faint glow of the streetlamps outside. you turned off the desk lamp, plunging the room into shadow, and made your way to the door. the hallway was just as empty as it had been when she left, the building silent save for the occasional creak of the floorboards. you locked the door behind you, the keys jingling in the quiet as you slipped them into your pocket.

the night air was cool when you stepped outside, unlike the stale, sterile atmosphere of the office. you tucked your hands into your pockets, your breath misting in the air as you stood there for a moment, letting the city’s sounds wash over you. it was late—nearly two in the morning—but the city was still alive, the distant hum of traffic and the occasional shout from a passerby reminding you that you weren’t completely alone.

but it didn’t bring you any comfort. if anything, it made the emptiness inside you more acute, unlike the vibrancy of the world around you. you weren’t tired, though you wished you were. exhaustion would have been a mercy, a way to escape the thoughts that clawed at you in the quiet. but sleep was as elusive as peace, and you knew that returning to your empty apartment would only make things worse.

so you let your feet carry you down the street, the familiar route to the small bar that stayed open late. it wasn’t much, just a hole-in-the-wall with dim lighting and a jukebox that played old songs, but it was something. a place where you could lose yourself for a little while, where the music and the people could drown out the noise in your head. the bar was nearly empty when you walked in, just a few regulars nursing their drinks and the bartender wiping down the counter. you slipped onto a stool at the far end, nodding in acknowledgment as the bartender approached.

“just a whiskey,” you said, your voice low, and he nodded, pouring you a glass without a word. you downed the first drink quickly, the burn of the alcohol a fleeting comfort, and ordered another. the jukebox played a song you didn’t recognize, the melody soft and haunting, and for a moment, you let yourself get lost in it. the chatter around you faded into the background, the clink of glasses and the murmur of voices becoming nothing more than white noise.

but the comfort was temporary, as it always was. the bar was closing, the bartender giving you a sympathetic look as he handed you your tab. you paid it without complaint, sliding off the stool and making your way to the door with a wave of thanks. the night was colder now, the wind biting at your skin as you walked back to your apartment. the streets were emptier, the city slowly falling asleep, and you found yourself wishing you could do the same. but as you reached your building, the familiar weight of dread settled in your chest. you unlocked the door and stepped inside, the silence immediately enveloping you, as it did every night.

you moved through the motions mechanically—kicking off your shoes, tossing your keys on the table, flicking on the lights. but the apartment felt as cold and lifeless as you did, the emptiness pressing in on you from all sides. you thought about turning on the television, letting the sound fill the void, but you couldn’t muster the energy. instead, you stood in the middle of the room, staring at nothing in particular, feeling the weight of the silence bear down on you.

it was suffocating, this loneliness, this isolation. it was a constant companion, one that you couldn’t escape no matter how hard you tried. and as you finally collapsed onto the couch, pulling a blanket around your shoulders, you couldn’t help but wonder if this was how it would always be. if you were destined to live your life in this void, surrounded by silence and shadows, with no one to share it with. the night stretched on, the city outside your window slowly quieting as it finally succumbed to sleep. but sleep didn’t come for you, not easily, not with the thoughts that swirled in your mind, the memories that haunted you. so you lay there, staring up at the ceiling, letting the darkness close in around you, wondering if there would ever be a way out.

the morning sunlight streamed through the narrow gap in your curtains, casting a gentle glow across the room. you stretched awake, the familiar feeling of weariness hanging heavy in your limbs, but there was something different about today. it was as though a thin veil had lifted, allowing a sliver of anticipation to seep in. you had always been a person of routine, and the thought of returning to your office, of delving back into the rhythm of your work, brought with it a semblance of comfort, a fleeting escape from the solitude that plagued you.

you moved through your morning routine with efficiency, the motions almost automatic. the scent of freshly brewed coffee filled the kitchen as you prepared a simple breakfast—toast and jam, with a cup of strong coffee to wake your senses. the radio hummed softly in the background, a familiar companion that provided a semblance of normalcy. you dressed with deliberate care, choosing a crisp, tailored suit that made you feel professional and polished, ready to face whatever the day might bring.

the trip to the office was a brief but pleasant ritual, the city streets bathed in the soft morning light, the air carrying the promise of a new day. you relished the routine, the predictable patterns that offered a sense of control. as you approached your building, you caught sight of the familiar facade, the reassuring solidity of it grounding you.

but as you walked through the entrance, you were greeted by an unexpected sight. hara stood waiting in the lobby. her presence was unusual at this hour, and her expression was more serious than usual. you offered her a friendly smile, but she didn’t immediately return it. instead, she gestured for you to follow her to a quiet corner of the building. “you’ve been working hard,” she began, her tone carrying a note of cautious warmth. “and i wanted to have a word with you.”

you paused, a twinge of apprehension flickering in your chest. “am i in trouble?” you asked, the question escaping before you could second-guess it. hara shook her head, her lips curling into a faint smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “no, not at all. well, not yet,” she said, inhaling deeply as if gathering her thoughts.

your heart skipped a beat. “what do you mean?” the uncertainty in her voice sent a ripple of unease through you. “what’s wrong?” she took a moment to collect her thoughts, her eyes meeting yours with a look of barely concealed concern. “you have a new patient,” she said finally, her tone shifting to one of subdued excitement as she watched your eyes light up at the news.

“really?” you asked, a spark of enthusiasm igniting within you. it had been a while since you had taken on a new case, and the prospect of diving into a fresh challenge was invigorating.

hara held up a hand, her expression turning more serious. “don’t get too excited,” she said, her tone taking on a warning edge. “he’ll be your project patient for your internship at the asylum.” the words hit you like a cold splash of water. “the asylum?” you repeated, the dismay clear in your voice. “but i love working here. this office, this environment—i don’t want to leave.”

hara’s face softened, and before you could fully process what was happening, she stepped forward and enveloped you in a hug. the gesture was unexpected, her arms wrapping around you with a warmth and sincerity that contrasted sharply with her usual professional demeanor. for a moment, you let yourself sink into the embrace, the human contact a rare and precious balm against the isolation that had become your constant companion.

“i know,” she said, her voice muffled against your shoulder. “i know how much you love it here. but this is something you have to do for your career. it’s a good opportunity, and it’s important for your development.”

you barely registered her words, too caught up in the comforting proximity of another person. the embrace lasted only a few moments, but it was enough to stir something deep within you—a longing for connection, for understanding, for more than just the superficial interactions of your daily life. when she finally pulled away, you nodded, a sense of reluctant acceptance settling over you. “okay,” you said softly, the word carrying more resignation than agreement.

she gave you a reassuring smile, her eyes reflecting a mix of sympathy and encouragement. “i’ll call a taxi for you,” she said, guiding you toward the building’s entrance. “it’s best if you head over there now. and remember to keep an open mind. this could be a valuable experience.” you followed her outside, the cool morning air brushing against your face. she hailed a taxi and handed you the keys to the office, reminding you to lock up when you finished. you took the keys with a grateful nod and watched as she walked back inside, her figure disappearing into the building.

the ride was a blur of anxious anticipation and reluctant acceptance. the city passed by in a series of shifting scenes, the familiar streets giving way to more industrial landscapes as you neared the asylum. it was a place you had heard about in passing but had never visited—a cold, imposing structure that seemed to loom on the horizon, its architecture stark and unwelcoming.

the asylum loomed before you like a cold, implacable sentinel against the sky, its grim, grey façade cutting through the morning mist. you stood before it for a moment, taking in the sheer scale of the structure—an imposing monolith that seemed to absorb the light, casting long shadows that stretched over the cracked pavement. the windows were narrow, barred, and the walls bore the harshness of age and neglect. there was something distinctly unwelcoming about it, so unlike the warm, inviting atmosphere of your office.

you pushed open the iron door, and a chill seemed to emanate from the very core of the building. the foyer was austere and utilitarian, the air thick with the smell of disinfectant and something else—a faint hint of despair that clung to the walls and floors. the reception area was starkly lit, the fluorescent lights casting a harsh glare over the sterile surroundings. it was a far cry from the soft lighting and cozy furnishings you were accustomed to.

the receptionist sat behind a high counter, her demeanor as frosty as the environment. she looked up as you approached, her gaze assessing you with a detached scrutiny. her uniform was crisp and immaculate, adding to the air of clinical precision that pervaded the space. “name and business?” she asked, her voice flat and devoid of warmth.

you took a deep breath, steeling yourself against the chill that seemed to penetrate your bones. “i’m (y/n) (l/n), here for an internship as the asylum’s psychiatrist,” you said, your voice steady despite the uneasy flutter in your stomach. the receptionist’s eyes narrowed slightly, and her lips twisted into a thin, humorless line. there was something almost predatory in her gaze, a faint glimmer of disdain or perhaps even pity. “follow me,” she said curtly, her tone leaving no room for discussion.

you trailed behind her as she led you through the labyrinthine corridors of the asylum. the hallways were long and narrow, lined with peeling paint and heavy metal doors. the air was heavy, laden with the echoes of distant voices and the occasional clank of metal on metal. you could hear the shuffling of feet, the murmurs and cries of the patients—a cacophony of sounds that was jarringly different from the calm and composed demeanor of your previous office.

as you walked, you noticed the guards stationed at regular intervals. they were stern-faced and vigilant, their uniforms dark and imposing. their presence was a constant reminder of the control and surveillance that permeated every corner of the asylum. you felt their eyes on you, a silent assessment that made you self-conscious. you passed by several cells, their occupants visible through the narrow windows set into the doors. the patients inside were much unlike the composed individuals you were used to. they paced restlessly, their eyes darting with a wildness that spoke of untamed thoughts and unspoken fears. some shouted incoherently, while others simply stared blankly at the walls. the sense of chaos was eerie, and it sent a shiver down your spine.

eventually, the receptionist stopped in front of a heavy door marked with a simple brass plate that read “psychiatrist.” she unlocked it with a practiced twist of the key and pushed it open, revealing a small, spartan office. the room was a stark departure from the warm, inviting space you were used to. the walls were a dull, institutional green, and the furniture was minimal and functional. there was a plain wooden desk with a single chair behind it and a couple of metal filing cabinets against one wall. a solitary window, heavily barred, provided a view of the bleak courtyard outside. the light that filtered through was cold and uninviting, casting long shadows across the room.

the receptionist stepped inside and placed a folder on the desk. “this is your workspace,” she said, her tone as unfeeling as ever. “you’ll be lucky to make it out alive.”

her words were delivered with a chilling finality, and before you could respond, she turned on her heel and walked out, leaving you alone in the sterile, unwelcoming space. the door clicked shut behind her, and you were left standing in the midst of the clinical bleakness that surrounded you. you stood there for a moment, absorbing the reality of your new environment. the emptiness of the room mirrored the uncertainty that was swirling within you. the asylum was a world apart from the comforting familiarity of your office, a place where every detail seemed designed to unsettle and disquiet. as you took in the surroundings, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of regret for the warmth you had left behind and a growing apprehension for what lay ahead.

you turned your attention to the stack of files on your desk, organizing them with methodical precision. the papers were a jumble of case histories, treatment plans, and patient backgrounds. as you sorted through them, the muted rustle of paper was the only sound breaking the silence of the room. you had just begun to lose yourself in the paperwork when a sharp knock on the door startled you. the sound echoed in the otherwise still space, cutting through the quiet like a sudden gust of wind. you looked up, but before you could respond, the door swung open with a slow creak, revealing two guards.

the guards were as imposing as their environment, their uniforms sharp and unyielding. they moved with an air of efficiency, each holding an arm of the man who followed them into the room. your gaze fell upon him, and despite your initial wariness, you were struck by an unsettling calmness that seemed to envelop him. he didn't resist; instead, he walked with an eerie composure, his movements measured and deliberate.

the man was restrained in a straitjacket, his arms bound tightly and secured with a belt around his torso. the sight of the straitjacket, with its bold white fabric and heavy buckles, seemed almost surreal against the backdrop of the dull office. the restraints were a harsh reminder of the severe nature of his condition, yet his demeanor was unexpectedly serene. as he was guided to the chair across from your desk, you took the opportunity to study him more closely. he was a tall man, his frame lean but solid. his features were striking—a sharp, prominent jawline and high cheekbones that gave him a distinctly aristocratic appearance. his brown eyes, though calm, carried an intensity that seemed to pierce through the confines of the straitjacket, a depth that hinted at complexities beneath the surface.

there was an unsettling grace to his presence, an almost magnetic quality that drew your attention despite the circumstances. his hair was dark and neatly styled, falling in soft waves that framed his face. the contrast between his physical appeal and the harsh restraints was jarring, creating a dissonance that was difficult to ignore. the guards remained by the door, their expressions guarded and unreadable. they exchanged a brief, knowing look before stepping out of the room, leaving you alone with the restrained man. their departure was marked by the soft click of the door as it closed behind them, and the silence that followed was thick and heavy.

you were left in the room with the man, the weight of the situation settling heavily on your shoulders. the office, with its cold, clinical ambiance, seemed suddenly smaller and more confining. you took a deep breath, trying to center yourself as you prepared to begin the session. the man’s calmness was a definite contrast to the environment of the asylum. he patient’s eyes remained fixed on you, a quiet challenge in their depths, as if he were assessing you as much as you were trying to understand him. you could sense a subtle tension in the air, an undercurrent of anticipation that was almost overwhelming.

you took a deep breath, the silence in the room amplifying the subtle rustle of papers as you mentally prepared yourself for the interaction. the restrained man sat calmly in front of you, his demeanor a striking contrast to the harsh confines of his situation. you cleared your throat, attempting to steady your voice as you introduced yourself.

“hello, i’m doctor (y/n) (l/n),” you said, your tone measured and professional. “i’ll be working with you during this internship.” as you spoke, the man’s lips curved into a faint, enigmatic smile. it was a smile that seemed to hold secrets, one that both intrigued and unsettled you. Hhs eyes glinted with an unsettling mixture of curiosity and amusement.

“lee taeyong,” he said, his voice smooth and articulate. the name struck you with the force of a thunderclap. you hadn’t recognized his face immediately, but his name was unmistakable. lee taeyong—an infamous figure known for his involvement in shootings and robberies. his notoriety had led to his confinement in a correctional facility after being deemed mentally unwell. your heart skipped a beat, and you felt your face go pale, the realization dawning with a cold, unwelcome clarity. taeyong’s keen eyes caught the shift in your expression, and a dry chuckle escaped his lips.

“have you heard of me?” he asked, his tone laced with a subtle taunt. you nodded slowly, trying to mask the tension that was creeping into your chest. “yes, i have.”

his laughter was dry and devoid of genuine mirth, a sound that seemed to echo with a dark undertone. “so, are you gonna cure me, doctor?” he asked, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. you squared your shoulders, forcing yourself to meet his gaze with a confidence you didn’t entirely feel. “there isn’t anything i can’t cure.”

his response was immediate, and he leaned in abruptly, causing you to flinch involuntarily. the sudden movement was unsettling, and you found yourself instinctively retreating. taeyong smirked, clearly amused by your reaction. “are you afraid, doctor?” he asked, his voice low and teasing. you steadied your breathing, forcing a calmness into your voice as you responded, “i’m not.”

his eyes widened slightly in surprise. “you’re too pretty to be a doctor,” he remarked, the compliment carrying an edge of mockery. you raised an eyebrow, trying to keep the conversation on track. “why do you think you’re unstable?”

taeyong’s expression shifted slightly, his demeanor becoming more contemplative. “i don’t think i am,” he said, a hint of defensiveness in his voice. “but everybody else does. they think my urges are abnormal.” intrigued, you leaned forward slightly. “what kind of urges?”

his eyes darkened with a certain intensity as he spoke. “i like the fear and the thrill,” he said, his voice carrying a chilling calm. “the screams, the way everyone is powerless against me. it’s exhilarating.”

your mind raced as you processed his words, but you decided to take an unexpected step. you reached for the straps of his straitjacket and began to unfasten them, freeing his arms. taeyong’s eyes widened in surprise. “what are you doing?” he asked, his tone a mix of curiosity and apprehension.

you smiled, trying to project a sense of ease despite the underlying tension. “i thought you might be more comfortable without the restraints.” his gaze remained fixed on you, his expression a blend of astonishment and wariness. “aren’t you afraid i’ll kill you?”

you met his gaze steadily, feeling a strange sense of calmness despite the gravity of the situation. “i don’t think you will.” his brows knitted together in confusion. “how do you know?”

“because,” you said softly, “i don’t believe you’re a bad person.” the sincerity in your voice seemed to take him aback. his eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, he looked genuinely disoriented by your kindness. the atmosphere in the room seemed to shift, a tentative bridge forming between the two of you.

taeyong leaned back, his posture relaxing slightly as he began to open up in a way that was both fascinating and ominous. he spoke of his past, his thoughts, and his perceptions with a raw honesty that was unsettling yet compelling. his words were a tapestry of dark desires and twisted logic, but there was an underlying vulnerability that made it clear he was grappling with his own demons.

as the session drew to a close, he looked at you with an unsettling blend of anticipation and something akin to respect. “i look forward to seeing you again, doctor.” he said, his voice carrying an eerie calmness. to your surprise, you found yourself looking forward to it as well. there was something about the interaction, the unexpected connection, that left you both unsettled and intrigued. as you watched him being escorted out by the guards, the weight of the session settled on your shoulders.

the morning sunlight filtered through the blinds of your apartment, casting a warm, gentle glow over the room. yet, despite the comforting start to your day, your mind was occupied with a singular thought—your next session with taeyong. the anticipation was a new and curious sensation, one that both thrilled and unsettled you. there was something compelling about his presence, a magnetic pull that made you eager to continue your interactions with him.

as you prepared for work, you found yourself contemplating how to make the next session more engaging, more comforting for him. the idea of a small gesture—something that might break through the cold walls of the asylum and create a connection—seemed to be the right approach. you decided to get him a gift, a symbol of the positive interaction you hoped to foster.

you ventured out to a small, quaint shop that morning, one filled with charming trinkets and comforting knick-knacks. your eyes scanned the shelves until they fell upon a small, stuffed kitten, its plush fur a soft, inviting shade of cream. it was delicate and unassuming, a small source of innocence amidst the reality of the asylum. you picked it up with a sense of purpose, imagining how such a simple object might ease the harshness of taeyong’s environment.

when you arrived at the asylum, the day’s routine felt different. the walls seemed colder, the atmosphere more oppressive, but the small stuffed kitten in your bag provided a small spark of warmth. as you approached your office, you were taken aback to find taeyong already seated in the chair, an unexpected sight. his presence there, so much earlier than anticipated, stirred a peculiar flutter in your chest. “you’re early today,” you remarked, trying to keep your tone light and neutral.

taeyong looked up at you, a genuine smile spreading across his face. “i couldn’t wait to see you,” he said, his voice carrying a hint of excitement that made your heart skip a beat. the sincerity in his words resonated deeply with you, and a small, inexplicable connection seemed to click into place. you felt a warm flush creep up your neck, but you quickly pushed the feeling aside, focusing on your planned gesture.

“i have something for you,” you said, reaching into your bag and pulling out the stuffed kitten. taeyong’s eyes widened with surprise and curiosity. “what’s this?” he asked, his tone a mix of intrigue and amusement.

you extended the kitten towards him, a smile playing at your lips. “it’s a little gift. i thought it might help make things a bit more comfortable here.” he took the kitten from you, his fingers brushing against yours for a brief, electrifying moment. as he cradled the stuffed animal in his hands, a look of genuine appreciation crossed his face. “i’m honored,” he said softly, his gaze fixed on the kitten.

you watched as he examined the plush toy with a sense of fascination. “i want you to take good care of it,” you said, your voice gentle. “if you can fight the urge to hurt it, then maybe you can fight the urge to hurt anything.” his lips curved into a mischievous smile as he toyed with the kitten, his fingers brushing over its soft fur.

“is that your way of challenging me, doctor?” he asked, his tone light but edged with an underlying seriousness. you nodded, trying to maintain a composed demeanor. “something like that,” you replied.

the session began in earnest, the conversation flowing with a new ease as taeyong’s attention seemed drawn to the small stuffed animal. he spoke of his past, his feelings, and his thoughts with a candor that was both unsettling and revealing. his insights were intertwined with moments of dark humor and cryptic reflections, making it clear that he was a man of contradictions. at one point, as you listened intently, his hand, still holding the kitten, brushed against a stray strand of hair that had fallen across your face. the touch was fleeting but intimate, a gesture that caught you off guard. you looked up to meet his gaze, finding a depth in his eyes that was both intense and vulnerable.

“i meant what i said earlier,” taeyong said, his voice softening. “you’re too pretty to be a doctor.” you blinked in surprise, trying to process the compliment amidst the complexity of the situation. “what do you mean?” you asked, genuinely curious.

his expression remained earnest, his eyes locking onto yours with a sincerity that was rare in such an environment. “you just don’t seem like someone who should be confined to this place. there’s something different about you.”

the moment lingered between you, charged with an emotional undercurrent that was difficult to define. despite the oddity of the situation, you felt a surprising warmth in his words. it was an acknowledgment of your humanity amidst the dehumanizing environment of the asylum. as the session drew to a close, you gathered your things, the small stuffed kitten resting on the desk between you. taeyong’s gaze followed you with an almost reluctant admiration, and there was a sense of anticipation in the air as you prepared to leave.

“i look forward to seeing you again,” he said, his voice carrying a hint of genuine hope. you nodded, a small smile touching your lips. “i look forward to seeing you too.”

with that, you watched as taeyong was escorted out by the guards, the connection between you both lingering like a faint but persistent echo. the asylum, with all its harsh realities, seemed momentarily softened by the unexpected bond that had formed. as you left for the day, the small stuffed kitten seemed to symbolize a fragile bridge between your world and his. you just weren't aware of how sturdy, nor how fragile, the bridge really was.

the weeks that followed your initial session with taeyong felt like a delicate dance, a precarious balance between professional distance and the growing, unspoken connection that had begun to develop between you. each session became a complex interplay of emotions and revelations, and you found yourself increasingly invested in his progress.

you had begun to believe, with a cautious optimism, that taeyong was making strides. the sessions were marked by moments of genuine insight and self-reflection from him, which seemed to indicate that he was grappling with his inner turmoil in ways that were both constructive and revealing. there was an undeniable progress, and you couldn’t help but feel a surge of hope every time you saw him approach with that enigmatic smile.

during one particular session, you found yourself immersed in a conversation about his past, his regrets, and his aspirations. taeyong, with his characteristic curiosity and sharpness, suddenly shifted the focus of the conversation. “what about you, doctor?” he asked, his voice carrying a tone of genuine interest. “what do you struggle with?”

the question caught you off guard, and for a moment, you hesitated. it was unusual for a patient to turn the spotlight onto you, especially someone like taeyong, whose own issues seemed so consuming. you took a deep breath, searching for the right words to encapsulate the truth.

“i suppose,” you began, struggling to find a way to articulate your feelings. “i've been lonely my whole life.” taeyong’s eyes softened, and for a fleeting moment, the hardness in his gaze seemed to melt away. “no woman like you should ever feel lonely,” he said softly, his tone laced with an unexpected gentleness.

his words struck a chord deep within you, and you felt a sudden, almost overwhelming rush of emotion. you looked up, meeting his gaze with a mixture of vulnerability and curiosity. before you could fully process the weight of his statement, he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear. “do you feel lonely with me here?” he asked, his voice a low whisper that sent shivers down your spine.

your heart pounded in your chest, the sound echoing in your ears as if to drown out the rest of the world. the proximity of his body, the intensity of his gaze, and the warmth of his breath combined to create a heady cocktail of sensations. you fought to maintain composure, but the answer came out more as a breathless confession. “no,” you admitted, your voice barely more than a whisper.

taeyong’s fingers, moving with deliberate slowness, traced a path along your neck. the touch was light but electrifying, a sensation that left your skin tingling and your breath catching in your throat. “you shouldn’t,” he said, his voice carrying an almost imperceptible note of possessiveness.

the weight of his touch, the intimacy of the moment, and the raw honesty in his words created a potent mix of emotions that overwhelmed you. as the session drew to a close, you found yourself grappling with a tumult of conflicting feelings. the professional boundaries that had once seemed so clear were now blurred, and you were left with a gnawing sense of guilt for finding comfort in a connection that was fundamentally inappropriate.

the room seemed colder as you watched him leave, the reality of the asylum returning with its harsh, unyielding presence. you could still feel the ghost of his touch on your skin, the echo of his breath in your ear, and the weight of his words in your heart. the session had brought a confusing mixture of warmth and unease, and as you locked up your office and walked out into the night, the loneliness you had tried so hard to combat felt more intense than ever.

as the days turned into weeks, the asylum’s sterile corridors and echoing chambers seemed to shrink in comparison to the burgeoning world of emotions you experienced during your sessions with taeyong. each encounter with him became a delicate interplay of professional duty and personal connection, weaving a complex tapestry of emotions that you struggled to fully comprehend.

the sessions grew more intense and revealing, both for you and for taeyong. you could no longer ignore the way your heart would race in anticipation of each meeting. the way his eyes would light up when he saw you, the way his presence seemed to fill the room with a bright energy—it was impossible to deny the deepening bond between you.

in one particular session, taeyong sat across from you, the small stuffed kitten now a constant companion in his hands. the stuffed animal had become a symbol of the connection you shared, its presence a silent witness to your evolving relationship. “you know,” he began, his voice carrying a hint of introspection, “i’ve been thinking a lot about what we’ve talked about. you’ve managed to get me to see things differently. i never thought i’d say this, but i think i owe you more than just my progress.”

you looked at him, your heart skipping a beat at his unexpected confession. “what do you mean by that?” you asked, your voice steady but filled with curiosity. his gaze was intense, his eyes searching yours with an earnestness that was both disarming and endearing. “you’ve been patient with me, more patient than anyone else ever has. i think,” he paused, choosing his words with care. “i think you’ve made me feel things i didn’t know i could still feel.”

you could feel the weight of his words settling over you, a mix of excitement and apprehension. “and what is it that you feel?” you asked, your voice barely more than a whisper. he took a deep breath, his fingers absently stroking the kitten. “i feel understood. cared for, in a way I never thought i’d experience again. it’s strange, but i think i’m beginning to look forward to these sessions more than i should.”

the admission struck a chord within you, and you felt a mixture of joy and sadness. joy at the progress he was making and sadness at the realization that your growing affection for him might blur the lines of your professional role. during another session, you found yourself struggling to maintain your composure as taeyong’s attention shifted to you in a way that felt increasingly personal. he leaned forward, his gaze unwavering as he spoke.

“you know,” he said, his voice low and intimate, “i’ve noticed something about you. you seem different when we talk. there’s something in the way you look at me. something more than just concern.” you felt your cheeks flush, a mixture of embarrassment and excitement swirling within you. “what do you mean?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

his eyes softened, and he reached out, his fingers gently brushing against yours. “i think you care about me more than you let on. and i can’t help but feel the same way.”

the admission hung in the air, charged with an electric tension that was impossible to ignore. you felt a surge of emotion, a tumult of conflicting feelings as you tried to process his words. it was both thrilling and terrifying to acknowledge that your feelings for taeyong had grown beyond the boundaries of professional detachment.

as the session continued, his demeanor shifted. he seemed more relaxed, more open, and the connection between you felt more tangible than ever. the way he would smile at you, the way his eyes would linger on yours—it was clear that the emotional bond between you was deepening. you struggled with the guilt and the moral conflict of your growing affection for him, knowing that it was inappropriate yet feeling a profound, undeniable connection.

the day you arrived for your next session with taeyong, you felt an unusual sense of anticipation. the asylum's cold corridors seemed to blur as you walked briskly toward your office, your mind already filled with thoughts of the conversation you hoped to have. but as you reached the familiar door, a pang of anxiety hit you when you noticed the room was empty.

your heart sank as you turned to the guards stationed outside the office. “where’s taeyong?” you asked, trying to keep your voice calm despite the growing concern. the guards exchanged uneasy glances before one of them responded. “they’ve decided to test their luck with another psychiatrist today. wanted to see how he’d react.”

a cold wave of dread washed over you, and you felt a sharp pang of heartache. before you could ask for more details, the silence of the corridor was shattered by a deafening crash. your heart raced as the sound of shattering furniture and frantic shouting reached your ears.

without a second thought, you sprinted down the hallway, your footsteps echoing in the sterile space. as you rounded the corner, you saw the scene unfolding in your office. taeyong, his face a mask of determination, was wielding a chair above his head, his muscles tensed in a show of raw strength. the psychiatrist lay sprawled on the floor, his face a picture of shock and pain. the guards were shouting, their voices a blur as they rushed toward taeyong. “what happened?” one of them demanded, their tone filled with both anger and concern.

his gaze, sharp and intense, found yours amidst the chaos. “i told you,” he said, his voice carrying a fierce determination, “i wanted to see doctor (l/n).”

the room seemed to freeze for a moment as his words sank in. he was swiftly restrained and escorted back to his cell, leaving you standing in the doorway of your office, your heart aching at the sight of the broken scene before you. the guards, now dealing with the aftermath of his outburst, left you waiting alone in the hallway. time seemed to stretch endlessly as you stood there, your mind racing with a tumult of conflicting emotions. when taeyong was finally brought out again, his demeanor was calmer, though his eyes held a deep, unfathomable intensity.

he looked at you with a mix of curiosity and something more personal. “what were you doing there?” he asked, his voice steady but laced with an edge of disbelief. you took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his gaze. “i was waiting for you,” you admitted, your voice soft but earnest.

his eyes widened slightly, surprise flickering across his features. “seriously?” you nodded, feeling a strange blend of relief and apprehension. “yes, seriously.”

once back in your office, the atmosphere felt charged with an electric tension. you sat across from him, your heart pounding as you tried to make sense of the events. “why did you crash out like that?” you asked, struggling to keep your voice steady. “you were making so much progress.”

taeyong’s expression softened slightly as he reached for the small stuffed kitten that had become a symbol of your sessions. he held it up, its soft fur unmarred by the recent issues. “because,” he said, his voice softening with an intensity that made your breath catch, “i’m in love with you.”

the confession hung heavy in the air, and you felt a surge of conflicting emotions—shock, confusion, and a deep, aching resonance. you stared at him, unable to fully process the gravity of his words. “i am too,” you said finally, your voice trembling with the weight of the admission.

without another word, he leaned forward, his gaze fixed on you with a fierce, unyielding intensity. his lips met yours in a kiss that was both tender and urgent. it felt wrong, a violation of every professional boundary you had sworn to uphold. yet, the raw, desperate need to connect, to feel something beyond the crushing loneliness that had plagued you, overpowered your sense of propriety.

the kiss was intense, filled with a mix of longing and desperation that made your heart race. his lips were warm against yours, his touch both gentle and insistent. every brush of his mouth, every caress of his fingers, seemed to echo the depth of the emotions you had both been struggling to contain. as the kiss deepened, you felt a wave of conflicting emotions—guilt and exhilaration, fear and desire. the world outside faded away, leaving only the overwhelming intensity of the moment. the walls of the asylum, the rules you had so carefully adhered to, and the boundaries you had maintained all seemed to crumble in the face of the unexpected connection.

taeyong’s hands slid up your body, cupping your tits over your blouse. his thumbs brushed against your nipples, which hardened immediately under his touch. you gasped into his mouth, your body responding with a fiery hunger that was impossible to ignore. his touch was rough, yet tender, as if he was afraid of breaking the fragile bond that had formed between you. his words from earlier played in your mind, and you felt a thrill of arousal that was as surprising as it was undeniable. you pushed back from the desk, the chair scraping against the floor as you stood to face him. your hands found the hem of your blouse, lifting it over your head to expose your bra. his eyes raked over your body, dark with desire. “you have no idea,” he murmured, his voice a low growl. “how long i’ve wanted this.”

you stepped closer to him, reaching behind to unclasp your bra. it fell away, revealing your full, round tits. taeyong’s gaze was glued to them, his pupils dilating as he took in the sight. he leaned in, his breath hot against your skin as he licked one nipple, then the other, his tongue flicking and teasing until you were moaning with need. your hands found his hair, pulling him closer as his mouth closed around one nipple, sucking hard.

his hands moved to the button of your pants, and with trembling fingers, he unzipped them. you stepped out of them, feeling a sense of vulnerability that was both terrifying and thrilling. he pushed you back onto the desk, his mouth moving down your body as he kissed and licked a trail to your center. his fingers found their way inside your panties, stroking your wet folds.

his tongue darted out, tasting you for the first time. you moaned, arching your back as he explored you with a fervor that left you breathless. he was rough, yet precise, his touch speaking of a hunger that matched your own. you could feel his erection pressing against you through his pants, and the thought of his big dick inside you made you wetter still. his fingers moved to your clit, rubbing it in tight circles that had you panting. your hips rocked against his face, desperate for more. “please, taeyong,” you begged, your voice needy and wanton. “fuck me. make me feel alive again.”

his only response was to stand up, his eyes never leaving yours as he unbuckled his belt and let his pants fall to the floor. his cock sprang free, thick and hard, and you felt your mouth water at the sight of it. he stepped closer, positioning himself between your legs, and without preamble, he pushed into you.

the sensation was overwhelming—he was so much bigger than any man you had ever been with. it was a stretch, a burn that bordered on pain, but the pleasure was so intense that you didn’t care. you gripped the edge of the desk, your nails digging into the wood as he began to thrust, hard and deep. his strokes were punctuated with dirty talk that made you feel like a whore, but it only served to make you wetter, to make you want him more.

you wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him deeper, feeling his cock fill you completely. his breath was hot and ragged against your neck, his teeth nipping at your skin. “you’re mine, doctor,” he growled. “no better cure than this pussy, fuck.” the words sent a shiver down your spine, and you knew that this was a line you could never uncross. but in that moment, as you felt him thrust inside you with a roar of pleasure, you didn’t care. he was close, his thrusts sloppy as his fingers pulled your hair, your whimpers making his dick twitch.

his hand slid down to cup your ass, his grip tightening as he pounded into you. your tits bounced with every impact, and you could feel his hot breath on your skin as he whispered obscenities in your ear. it was a symphony of degradation and lust, and you were the eager conductor, urging him on. your pussy was tight around his cock, gripping him with every stroke, and you knew you were close to the edge.

suddenly, he pulled out, leaving you feeling empty and needy. you looked up at him, your eyes glazed with passion, and he smirked. “turn over,” he ordered, his voice gruff. you complied, turning onto your stomach and spreading your legs, the cool desk against your burning skin. he stepped behind you, his cock nudging at your entrance again. without warning, he slammed back into you, making you cry out.

the new angle was exquisite, his cock hitting deeper, reaching parts of you that had never been touched before. you pushed back against him, your body begging for more. his hands gripped your hips, his nails digging in as he picked up the pace. “yeah, take it like that, like the slut you are,” he murmured, his voice a mix of praise and command. your cheeks flushed at the words, but you found yourself pushing back even harder, eager to prove his words true. with every thrust, he whispered filthy compliments about your body, his grip on your hips tightening as he fucked you like he owned you.

his hand reached around to play with your clit, his touch sending waves of pleasure through you. your moans grew louder, filling the room. the sound of skin slapping against skin was the only music in the air, a rhythmic crescendo that grew more intense with every second. you felt your orgasm building, your pussy clenching around his cock. “that’s it, doctor. cum for me,” he encouraged, his voice hoarse with lust. and with a final, brutal thrust, you did, your body shuddering with the force of your climax. he followed shortly after, his seed spilling into you, marking you as his.

once the tremors had subsided, he pulled out, leaving you gasping for air. you felt the stickiness between your legs, a reminder of what had just transpired. as you looked back at him, you saw the smug satisfaction on his face, and you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of anger. but it was quickly drowned out by the addictive thrill of the power exchange. you had never felt so alive, so desired. it was therapeutic. and as he stepped closer, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, you knew that this was far from over. there was an unspoken promise in his eyes, a challenge for you to come back for more. and you knew, without a doubt, that you would.

as taeyong straightened his clothes, his gaze never left you, the intensity in his eyes as present as ever. he was murmuring something under his breath, and you had to strain to hear his words amidst the whirlwind of emotions you were trying to process. “i feel as if you’ve cured me,” he said softly, his voice carrying a sense of genuine relief.

you blinked, taken aback by his declaration. “are you serious?” you asked, your voice a mixture of disbelief and hope. he nodded slowly, a small, almost serene smile playing on his lips. “yes, i am.”

the room seemed to hold its breath as he began to dress himself, each movement deliberate and composed. your own heart raced as you grappled with the weight of his words. the promise of cure and the possibility of something more twisted together in your mind. he turned to you, his expression serious yet tender.

“i need you to do something for me,” he said, his eyes locking with yours. “anything,” you replied without hesitation, your voice firm despite the storm of emotions brewing within you.

taeyong’s gaze softened slightly, and he leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear. “i need a machine gun.” the request hit you like a jolt. “a machine gun?” you repeated, trying to comprehend the gravity of what he was asking.

“yes,” he confirmed, his voice steady. “if you don’t want to help me, i understand, but i need one.” you were silent for a moment, the enormity of his request settling over you. the ethical and legal implications were enormous, yet the urgency in his tone and the trust he placed in you compelled you to respond. shaking your head, you met his gaze with determination. “i’ll do it.”

taeyong’s eyes lit up with a mixture of relief and gratitude. he leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. “thank you for curing me.”

the warmth of his touch lingered long after he had left. that night, the enormity of hia request weighed heavily on you, but you were resolute. if this was what he needed, then you would find a way. the loneliness that had plagued you seemed to intensify with the knowledge of his needs, but it also spurred you into action. you spent the evening making discreet, cautious inquiries, your mind racing with worry and determination. you knew the gravity of what you were doing, the potential consequences, but the promise of alleviating your own profound sense of loneliness and his plea drove you forward. finally, after hours of careful navigation through back channels and clandestine meetings, you acquired the machine gun. it was a heavy, ominous object, wrapped in layers of secrecy and dread.

you stored it securely in a hidden compartment of your bag, the weight of it pressing down with a disquieting sense of finality. the next morning, you arrived at the asylum with a mix of dread and anticipation, knowing that the day’s session would be unlike any before. entering your office, you saw taeyong already seated, a patient yet expectant look on his face. your heart skipped a beat as you approached him, the hidden weight of the machine gun in your bag seeming almost to pulse with your anxiety.

“good morning,” you said, forcing a smile. “good morning,” he replied, his eyes immediately catching the glint of anticipation in yours.

you sat down across from him and carefully extracted the machine gun from your bag. his eyes widened in surprise and then satisfaction as you laid the weapon on the desk before him. “i didn’t think you’d actually do it,” he said, his voice a mix of awe and approval. “you said you needed it,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. “i wouldn’t let you down.”

taeyong’s gaze softened as he reached out to touch the machine gun, his fingers brushing over the cold metal with a sense of reverence. “thank you,” he said quietly. “i knew you were the right fit for me.” the session continued with a shift in atmosphere. taeyong seemed more at ease, his demeanor less guarded and more open. the conversation flowed with a new ease, and you felt a strange sense of fulfillment. the machine gun, despite its ominous presence, seemed to be a catalyst for something deeper between you.

as the session drew to a close, you found yourself reluctant to leave, savoring the brief moments of connection and understanding. you had made significant strides with taeyong, and the realization that he trusted you so deeply was both exhilarating and unsettling. the rest of the day was spent in a haze of reflection. you sorted through files and paperwork, your mind frequently drifting back to him and the connection you shared. the solitude of your office seemed less oppressive, the quiet punctuated by thoughts of him. each task felt like a distraction from the growing realization that, in taeyong, you had found a source of profound connection.

in the quiet of your office, surrounded by the mundane tasks of your work, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something significant had shifted. the loneliness that had once felt so encompassing now seemed to have been touched by the fleeting moments of intimacy and connection you had shared with him. you were less alone than you had been before, and yet, the path you were on was fraught with moral and emotional complexity.

the night fell over the asylum with a chilling, almost suffocating stillness. you were at your desk, sorting through a mountain of paperwork, the dim light casting shadows over the piles of files. the routine of your task offered a semblance of normalcy, a brief respite from the whirlwind of emotions and decisions that had consumed you lately. you were lost in the monotony of sorting and filing when an unsettling noise shattered the silence.

the distant sounds of gunshots, crashing furniture, and frantic screams pierced through the walls. your heart leapt into your throat as the reality of what was unfolding outside became painfully clear. Instinctively, you ducked under your desk, your breaths coming in ragged gasps as you tried to stifle the rising panic. the noises outside were chaotic, a cacophony of violence and fear that seemed to grow louder by the second.

taeyong’s plan had taken shape, and the asylum was in disarray. he had enlisted the help of several other inmates, each fueled by the same chaotic energy that defined taeyong himself. the sound of gunfire rang out intermittently, each shot a reminder of the danger that now surrounded you. the air was thick with tension, and you could hear the muffled sounds of struggle and conflict as the inmates carried out their rebellion.

the commotion grew closer, and suddenly, two figures burst into your office. your heart pounded in your chest as they grabbed you roughly by the arms. you struggled against their grip, your cries of protest barely audible over the tumult outside. they dragged you to your desk and, despite your frantic attempts to break free, began restraining you with the belts from straitjackets. the leather straps cut into your skin as they bound your arms and legs to the desk, rendering you immobile.

you pleaded with them, your voice trembling with fear and desperation. “please, don’t do this. let me go. i’ll do anything.”

the inmates remained silent, their faces impassive as they completed their task. the office, once a place of calm and control, was now a prison, its familiar surroundings now oppressive and alien. as the last of the restraints were secured, the door creaked open, and taeyong stepped into the room. his appearance was striking against the backdrop of screams. he was calm, almost serene, despite the mayhem that had unfolded. the sight of him brought a mix of relief and dread. you gazed up at him, your eyes wide with terror as you tried to make sense of what was happening.

“taeyong,” you said, your voice quivering. “are you really gonna kill me?”

he walked towards you with an unsettling calm, his expression unreadable. as he neared, he paused, his gaze locking with yours. “i’m not going to kill you,” he assured, his voice soft but carrying a chilling edge. “i just need to hurt you enough to make sure you’ll be mine.”

the words hung heavy in the air, and your heart raced as you watched him produce a small metal device from his pocket. the sight of the electric shock equipment made your blood run cold. it was an instrument of pain, and its presence signaled a new level of cruelty.

to your surprise, taeyong’s expression softened, and he took a step closer. “i know you thought you were helping me,” he said, his tone almost apologetic. “but now it’s my turn to help you.”

the device was cold against your skin as he pressed it to your head. a jolt of electricity surged through you, and your body convulsed involuntarily. the sensation was overwhelming, a harsh intrusion into your consciousness. you felt your mind slipping away from the present, a series of fragmented images and memories flashing before your eyes.

your mother’s face appeared, her eyes filled with pain and sorrow. then, your father, followed by your grandparents, each visage a poignant reminder of loss. the images shifted and morphed, replaced by a vision of yourself with taeyong. you were working together, your roles reversed, with him now a cured man, living with you in a semblance of normalcy. the visions continued, showing a future that was both alluring and terrifying. you saw yourselves speeding down a highway, the police in hot pursuit. the trunk of your car was filled with money, a symbol of the danger and thrill that had become intertwined with your relationship. the exhilaration of the chase was intense, but it was overshadowed by an undercurrent of dread.

the final image was the most haunting. you saw yourself detached, your love for taeyong twisted into something unrecognizable. the thrill had turned into a grim reality, the danger of your actions reflected in the cold, hard truths of your choices. the vision was a cruel reminder of the consequences that awaited you, the stark reality of a future bound by the darkness you had embraced.

as the electric shock subsided, your body trembled uncontrollably. your mind was a whirlpool of conflicting emotions and revelations. you felt a profound sense of numbness, the shock leaving you disoriented and frightened. the room seemed to close in around you, what used to be a familiar space now a prison of your own making. in the end, you wished it had killed you. death seemed more reasonable, more promising, than what the future had in store for you.

✧.*

a/n: requested fic!!! the smut part at least i really dk where i was going with this plot lol

my dealer is out of town so i have to roll on my own...for the first time...shit got me gagged

horror shorts, rich guy poor girl, police, rich guy rich girl, college, high school, underground boxing, street racing, mafia, korean dynasty, post apocalyptic, mental institution, fatal illness, sociopath jaehyun, dancers fucking, assassins fucking, fucking a demon, fucking a ghost, treasure hunting, step-siblings, poor guy poor girl, red flag jungkook, ceo and secretary, murderers fucking, doctors fucking, teacher and student....i've done it all. like what do i write anymore i'm so???

cold case (미제 사건) — jeon jungkook (전정국)

✧.* 18+

in the quiet corridors of human thought, where shadows of philosophy and whispers of tradition intertwined, the concept of morality unfurled its intricate tapestry. once upon a time, in a world where the lines between right and wrong were delicately drawn by the hand of experience and belief, morality was more than a mere guide—it was a compass that directed the course of lives and shaped the destiny of societies.

in those days, moral philosophy emerged from the depths of contemplation, offering varied paths to discern the essence of good and evil. deontologists spoke of duty with a voice as steady as the unchanging stars, insisting that some actions were inherently right or wrong, irrespective of their outcomes. their moral landscape was marked by rules that stood like ancient pillars, unyielding in their presence. conversely, the consequentialists wandered a different terrain, where the terrain shifted with the tides of outcomes. to them, the morality of an action was painted by its results—an act was judged by whether it brought more happiness or less suffering. their ethics were a canvas of effects, where the final strokes determined the worth of every action.

in the gentle light of introspection, morality revealed itself as a complex and beautiful mosaic, guiding humanity through the labyrinth of life with wisdom and grace. each ethical theory, each moral rule, and each personal conviction contributed to a grand symphony of understanding, where the quest for distinguishing right from wrong continued to unfold with every choice and every action.

in the labyrinthine corridors of your childhood memories, the distinction between right and wrong was not always clear. as a young girl, you had often seen glimpses of your parents' secret lives—furtive conversations, hidden compartments in the house, and the occasional visitor who spoke in hushed tones. to you, these were nothing more than the quirks of a family that had its own peculiar ways. in your innocent eyes, every family had its secrets, and the clandestine nature of your parents' actions seemed like just another part of growing up.

you remembered vividly the sound of your parents' laughter echoing through the house, mingling with the clink of glasses and the rustling of crisp banknotes. it was a symphony of the life they led, a life that seemed vibrant and exciting. they spoke to you with a tenderness that belied the shadows lurking behind their smiles. their love for you was palpable, a warm embrace that seemed to protect you from the world’s harsher truths.

but as the years passed, the veil of innocence began to lift. the truth of your parents' double life slowly came into focus, revealing a stark reality. you learned that their involvement in the underground world of crime was not just a secret hobby but a consuming passion that eclipsed everything else. their love for you, though genuine, was overshadowed by their relentless pursuit of wealth and power. this pursuit, once cloaked in the guise of providing a better future, had ultimately led to their downfall.

as you sat alone in your room, you came across a broken-framed photograph of the three of you. the glass was cracked, and the edges of the frame were chipped, but the image within was still clear—a snapshot of a happier time. staring at that photograph, the weight of realization settled upon you like a shroud. you understood now that your parents' lives, while filled with moments of love and joy, were tainted by choices that led to their tragic end. their death was not a result of fate but of their unbridled greed and the dark paths they chose to walk.

it was in that moment of clarity, as you gazed at the broken photograph, that you fully comprehended the difference between right and wrong. the realization that their love was marred by their actions ignited a determination within you. you knew that the path you needed to take was one of integrity, justice, and righteousness. the shadows of your parents' lives would not define you; instead, you would forge a new legacy rooted in moral clarity and purpose.

determined to make a difference, you entered the police academy with a fierce resolve. the years spent there were a rigorous testament to your commitment. each day began before dawn, with physical training that tested your endurance and mental fortitude. the discipline of early mornings and grueling exercises sculpted your body and mind, preparing you for the challenges ahead.

in the classroom, you delved into the complexities of law and ethics, dissecting case studies and engaging in intense debates. your instructors imparted the knowledge and skills necessary to uphold justice, and you absorbed every lesson with a thirst for understanding. the theoretical aspects of criminal justice were balanced with practical exercises, where you simulated real-world scenarios, honing your investigative techniques and decision-making abilities. your fellow cadets became like family, bound together by shared struggles and aspirations. you formed lasting friendships forged in the fires of late-night study sessions and joint drills. the camaraderie was a source of strength and motivation, driving you to excel in both academics and fieldwork.

the graduation day arrived, a culmination of years of hard work and dedication. as you stood among your fellow graduates, clad in the uniform you had earned, the weight of the journey you had undertaken was both heavy and exhilarating. when your captain approached to congratulate the graduating class, you felt a surge of pride and accomplishment. each salute you offered was a testament to your commitment to justice, a silent vow to uphold the values you had come to cherish.

you knew exactly what you wanted to do with your newfound authority. your goal was to bring about the change you had envisioned—to be a beacon of hope in the complex, often shadowy world of law enforcement. the lessons learned from your past and the discipline honed in the academy had prepared you for the challenges that lay ahead. as you embarked on your journey as an officer, you carried with you the resolve to honor the ideals of justice and integrity, ensuring that your path would remain unwaveringly true.

as you stepped into the office for the first time, the familiar hum of activity greeted you. the room was bustling with the usual office clamor—phones ringing, papers rustling, and the murmurs of conversations. but as you approached your designated desk, a sense of unease quickly replaced your initial excitement.

your desk was positioned at the periphery of the room, a seemingly innocuous spot that did little to shield you from the stares of your new colleagues. the glances you received were not of welcome but of scrutinizing appraisal. the men who filled the office cast lingering, dismissive looks in your direction, their eyes saying more than their words ever could. it was clear that they were sizing you up, judging you not by your skills or qualifications but by your gender.

you didn't need to be an officer or possess any special insight to understand their thoughts. it was painfully evident that they underestimated you, their eyes reflecting a blend of skepticism and condescension. you loathed it, this patronizing attitude that seemed to seep through every glance and smirk. but you had learned long ago how to navigate such disdain. you knew that you were more than just flesh and blood, more than just a woman in a male-dominated field. you were a dedicated officer, and you refused to let their prejudices define you.

your resolve was tested almost immediately. a voice broke through the din of the office, sharp and mocking. “i sure hope you’re here to make us lunch,” one of the male officers said, his tone dripping with derision. his colleagues erupted into laughter, their mirth a jarring reminder of the chauvinistic attitudes that plagued your new workplace.

you didn’t flinch. instead, you fixed him with a steely gaze and replied, “i sure hope you’re okay with getting your ass beat.” the words were barely out of your mouth before you grabbed your stapler and, with a swift motion, hurled it towards him. it flew through the air with a precision that spoke volumes of your frustration and resolve.

the stapler struck him squarely on the side of his head. the room fell into stunned silence, broken only by the thud of the stapler hitting the floor. the officer, his face a mixture of shock and anger, glared at you. “you bitch,” he spat, advancing toward you with a menacing stride. but before he could reach you, an authoritative voice cut through the tension.

“it’s your first day, and you’re already asking to get fired.” you turned to see jeon jungkook standing in the doorway, his presence commanding immediate attention. his uniform was impeccably neat, his posture rigid, and his expression a mask of stern professionalism. jungkook’s eyes, cold and assessing, swept over the room before settling on the offending officer. “you’re no better,” he said, his voice carrying a sharp edge. “you’re lucky she didn’t crack your head open.” his gaze lingered for a moment longer, an unspoken warning hanging in the air, before he turned and left the room with a decisive click of the door.

the moment jungkook departed, you felt the weight of his words and the chill of his gaze. it was clear that he was not just any superior officer but someone who commanded respect through his unwavering dedication and strict demeanor. his reprimand had carried with it an authority that seemed to freeze the air in the room. you turned back to your desk, the echoes of the confrontation still reverberating in your mind. the office had returned to its usual clamor, but the atmosphere had shifted. the mocking glances had lessened, replaced by a wary respect that had not been there before. you were already making a mark, even on your first day, and you knew that the path ahead would be paved with both challenges and triumphs.

sitting down at your desk, you took a deep breath and began to organize your workspace. the clutter of papers and office supplies seemed to reflect the chaos of the morning, but you approached it with a sense of purpose. this was your domain now, and you were determined to make it your own. as you set about your tasks, you could feel the weight of the day’s events pressing upon you, but you remained resolute.

as you settled into your new role, the mountain of files and papers that awaited you seemed both daunting and strangely familiar. each document was a piece of the complex puzzle you were about to dive into, and you approached it with the meticulous attention to detail that had characterized your training. the room was a mosaic of activity, but your focus was anchored firmly on the paperwork before you. you organized the files into neat stacks, sorting through reports, case files, and memos with practiced efficiency. the air was filled with the rustle of paper and the occasional distant hum of conversation, a backdrop to your focused efforts. the scent of ink and paper was oddly comforting, a reminder of the countless hours you had spent in the academy honing your skills.

as you concentrated on cross-referencing details and updating case notes, you heard a voice break through the monotony. “don’t think too much about these assholes,” the voice said, warm and comforting despite the brashness of the comment.

you looked up from your work to see a man sitting across the room, his demeanor casual yet friendly. he had an easygoing smile that seemed to disarm the tension lingering in the office. you couldn’t help but scoff lightly. “i wasn’t planning to,” you replied, your tone carrying a hint of defiance.

the man’s smile widened, and he leaned back in his chair, exuding an air of easy confidence. “you’ve got a lot of patience,” he said, his tone genuinely admiring. “i’m jung hoseok, by the way.”

recognition flickered in your mind as you realized that hoseok was one of the cadets from the academy. you nodded with a smile. “i remember you. congratulations on graduating,” you said, your voice carrying the warmth of sincere admiration.

hoseok’s smile grew even broader. “thanks. and congratulations to you too. i’ve heard you’ve made quite an impression already.” you felt a wave of relief wash over you. amidst the zoo of office dynamics, it was refreshing to encounter someone who seemed genuinely kind and approachable. his presence was a welcome contrast to the hostile undercurrents you had faced earlier.

he leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice as though sharing a secret. “but i should warn you about jungkook.” you raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “why?” you asked, your tone curious but wary.

hoseok hesitated for a moment, his eyes flicking towards the door as if ensuring no one else could overhear. “nothing is more important to jungkook than work itself,” he said finally, his voice tinged with a note of caution. you shrugged slightly, considering his words. “there’s nothing wrong with being dedicated to your work,” you replied, trying to maintain an open mind.

hia expression grew serious, and he continued, “it’s not just dedication. there’s not a line jungkook won’t cross to get his work done.” his gaze met yours with a gravity that underscored the seriousness of his warning. you let his words sink in, the implication clear. jungkook’s dedication to his work was not merely a matter of professional pride but a driving force that could lead to unpredictable and potentially dangerous decisions. the silence that followed was heavy with contemplation. you considered the balance between dedication and ethics, between doing what was necessary and adhering to the principles that guided you.

hoseok’s warning lingered in your thoughts as you returned to your desk, your mind processing the implications of his words. the office buzzed around you, the normalcy of daily tasks juxtaposed against the undercurrents of tension and intrigue that marked your new environment. with a renewed sense of resolve, you continued with your work, aware of the complexities that lay ahead.

the evening air was crisp as you stepped out of the office building, eager for a moment of respite. the fading sunlight cast long shadows, painting the sky in hues of pink and orange, and you welcomed the solitude as you approached your parked car. the comforting solitude of the parking lot offered a temporary escape from the whirlwind of office life, and you relished the chance to smoke in peace. you leaned against the cool metal of your car, pulling a cigarette from your pack with practiced ease. as you lit it and took your first drag, you glanced around, appreciating the brief silence that enveloped you. the soft crackle of the cigarette was a small solace amidst the hustle and bustle of your new role.

out of the corner of your eye, you caught a fleeting movement on the other side of the lot. you turned slightly to see jungkook, standing in the dimming light, lighting his own cigarette. the briefest of glances met your eyes before you quickly looked away, preferring the sanctuary of silence over the potential for awkward conversation. the distance between you was too great for meaningful exchange, and you were content to let the moment pass in unspoken acknowledgment.

you focused on your car, stepping forward to retrieve some files you had left on the seat. the familiar motion of opening the door and reaching inside provided a momentary distraction from the day's earlier events. with a sigh of relief, you closed the door, cigarette still perched between your lips. as you straightened, you looked up to see an unfamiliar man standing a few feet away, his gaze fixed on you with an unsettling intensity.

the man’s presence was jarring, his smirk exuding an air of menace. his eyes lingered on the sleek lines of your car with an almost predatory curiosity. “nice ride,” he said, his voice smooth but laced with a threatening undertone. “mind if i take it for a spin?”

you didn’t react immediately, maintaining a calm exterior as your eyes scanned his demeanor. his hand shifted to lift the side of his jacket, revealing a gun holstered at his hip. the glint of metal caught the waning light, a stark reminder of the danger he posed.

with a deliberate motion, you extinguished your cigarette, dropping it to the pavement and crushing it underfoot. the decision to act swiftly and decisively was driven by instinct and training. you pivoted toward the man, your movements fluid and practiced, and closed the distance between you. before he could react fully, you grabbed him by the collar and swung him against the side of your car. the impact was jarring, and he grunted in surprise as you pressed him firmly against the vehicle. your hands were steady as you reached for your cuffs, securing them around his wrists with a practiced efficiency.

as you tightened the cuffs, you leaned in close, your breath warm against his ear. “i think i’m gonna take you for a spin first,” you whispered, your voice carrying a cold, authoritative edge. his initial shock turned into a flurry of thrashing and resistance, but your grip remained firm. you guided him with practiced control, maneuvering him through the parking lot toward the station. the scuffle drew the attention of a few passersby, but you paid them little mind, your focus solely on your captive and the path ahead.

throughout the entire ordeal, you felt jungkook’s eyes on you, a piercing gaze that never wavered. even as you moved with the man in tow, you could sense his silent observation, the intensity of his scrutiny adding an additional layer of pressure. his presence was like a constant shadow, a reminder of the complex dynamics at play within this new world you had entered.

you maneuvered the man roughly into one of the holding cells, the metal door slamming shut with a resonant clang. the cell’s interior was stark, illuminated by the harsh, flickering light of a single bulb. the man’s protests filled the space, his shouts echoing off the concrete walls as he struggled against the cuffs. his anger and frustration were palpable, but you remained unmoved, your expression cool and detached as you observed him from outside the cell.

just then, the chief of the station strode into the area, his presence commanding immediate attention. his eyes narrowed as he took in the scene before him, and he paused, clearly surprised by the commotion. “what’s going on here?” he demanded, his voice carrying an authoritative edge.

you took a steadying breath, maintaining your composure as you explained the situation. “this man attempted to steal my car. he displayed a firearm, so i subdued him and brought him in.” you handed over the wrapped gun, its weight feeling significant in your hands. the tissue was slightly damp from handling, but you had wrapped it with care to avoid any fingerprints.

the chief’s eyebrows shot up in shock as he unwrapped the gun, his anger visibly rising. he turned to face the man, his voice now tinged with a harsh edge. “you’re in for a treat. you’ve got some nerve pulling this shit,” the chief’s gaze then shifted back to you, his expression softening into an approving smile. “i’ve got to hand it to you. it’s your first day, and you’ve already brought in a real asshole. not a bad start.”

a moment later, jungkook appeared, his tall frame cutting an imposing figure as he entered the room. his eyes flickered toward you briefly, registering your presence before he moved past. his gaze was focused and impassive, and his silence spoke volumes about his reserved nature.

you couldn’t resist the urge to address him, a trace of sarcasm slipping into your voice as you said, “thanks for the hand. so much for a dedicated officer.” jungkook paused for a split second, his head turning slightly to acknowledge your comment. his expression remained stoic, but his response was measured and direct. “looked like you had it under control,” he said simply before continuing on his way.

the brief exchange left a lingering tension in the air. you couldn’t deny the sting of his dismissive tone, but you also recognized the unspoken acknowledgment of your capability. it was a subtle reminder that while his focus was unwavering and his dedication to his work was undeniable, his interactions were often laced with a cool, distant demeanor.

the bar was dimly lit, with the low hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses providing a comforting backdrop to the evening. the warm amber glow from the hanging lights cast a soft sheen over the polished wooden bar and the array of bottles that lined the shelves. you found a quiet corner, where the atmosphere felt more intimate, allowing you to unwind from the day's events.

hoseok was already there, sitting at the bar with a relaxed demeanor that contrasted sharply with the tension of the office. as you slid into the seat next to him, he greeted you with a warm smile and a nod. his presence seemed to exude a sense of calm, a welcome reprieve from the rigid formality of the police station.

he gestured to the bartender, who promptly set a cold beer before you. the chilled glass felt good in your hand, and you took a long sip, savoring the cool, crisp flavor. hoseok leaned back, his posture casual yet attentive as he regarded you with a look of genuine interest.

“so,” he began, his voice smooth and easygoing, “congratulations on your first day. not many rookies can say they’ve brought someone in so quickly. that’s impressive.”

you nodded, appreciative of his acknowledgment. “thanks, hoseok. it was a rough start, but it feels good to have made a difference.” he took a sip from his own glass, the beer foaming slightly as he did. “you handled it well,” he continued. “but there are a few people you should keep an eye on. jungkook might be dedicated, but he’s also known for pushing boundaries to get results. and then there’s the hierarchy in the department—some are more concerned with climbing the ranks than with actual justice.”

you listened carefully, absorbing his advice. the insights he shared painted a clearer picture of the dynamics at play within the precinct. “i appreciate the heads-up,” you said. “it’s good to know who i might need to watch out for.”

his expression softened as he looked at you, his gaze reassuring. “just remember to stay true to yourself. the job can be tough, but it’s important to keep your integrity intact. you’ve got the right spirit, and that’s what counts.” you took another sip of your beer, letting the conversation drift into the background as you allowed yourself a moment to relax. the atmosphere of the bar, combined with hoseok’s easy presence, created a sense of respite that you hadn’t realized you needed so badly.

as the evening wore on, the conversation flowed naturally. hoseok spoke of his experiences, sharing anecdotes that brought a smile to your face. his storytelling was engaging, his voice rich with warmth and humor. there was an ease to his presence that made you feel at ease, a soothing balm for the frayed nerves of your first day.

when the time came to leave, he offered to walk you home. you accepted his offer with a grateful nod, appreciating the gesture. the night air was cool and crisp as you stepped outside, and the city’s lights cast a soft glow on the streets. hoseok’s company made the walk pleasant, his presence a comforting contrast to the challenges you had faced earlier.

as you made your way through the quiet streets, the conversation between you continued in a relaxed manner. his insights into the precinct and his easy demeanor made the walk enjoyable, a soothing end to a long day. the distance to your home felt shorter with his company, and you found yourself feeling more at ease with each step.

when you finally reached your front door, hoseok gave you a friendly smile. “well, this is where i leave you,” he said. “rest up. tomorrow’s another day, and i’m sure you’ll handle it just as well.” you thanked him sincerely, appreciating the support and camaraderie he had shown. as you watched him walk away, you felt a renewed sense of confidence. the night had provided a welcome break, and his presence had been a reminder that even in the most demanding of jobs, there were people who understood and offered genuine support.

the next morning, the precinct was a whirlwind of activity. papers were shuffled with frantic energy, phones rang incessantly, and officers moved briskly from one task to another. you found yourself buried under a mountain of paperwork, the endless stream of files and reports stacking up around you. your desk was a battleground of yellowed manila folders and scattered notes, each one demanding your attention.

just as you were deeply engrossed in sorting through a particularly complex file, the office door swung open. the chief entered, flanked by jungkook, whose presence immediately commanded attention. the room fell silent as the chief’s authoritative voice cut through the hum of activity. “everyone, give me your attention,” he announced.

you looked up, your gaze shifting to the chief and jungkook as they made their way toward your desk. the chief’s expression was serious, a hint of urgency in his eyes. he gestured for you and jungkook to follow him, and you both rose from your seats, curiosity piqued. the chief led you to his office, the atmosphere charged with a palpable sense of anticipation. once inside, he motioned for you and jungkook to take a seat across from his desk. he settled into his chair, his demeanor reflecting the gravity of the matter at hand.

as he opened a file, the chief began, “we’ve got a major case on our hands. this involves an underground mafia organization that’s been wreaking havoc across the city. their activities include drug trafficking, illegal gambling, and a number of violent crimes. we’ve managed to gather some intel, but we’re still missing key pieces.”

the chief’s words painted a grim picture of the criminal underworld, his tone laced with both frustration and determination. he detailed the mafia’s operations, their influence on various sectors, and their notorious ability to evade capture. the room was thick with tension as he laid out the scope of the problem.

“there’s a lot at stake here,” he continued, “and i need the best team on this. that’s why i’m assigning you both to this case. you’ll be working together to infiltrate the organization.”

jungkook’s expression shifted to one of discontent. he scoffed, his tone dripping with skepticism. “you want me to work on a cold case with a rookie?” the challenge in his voice was unmistakable, and the air grew taut with his disdain. you met his gaze head-on, refusing to be intimidated. “the case just might freeze if you’re the one on it,” you retorted sharply, your voice steady despite the tension.

jungkook’s eyes narrowed, ready to launch a rebuttal, but the chief intervened. “that’s enough,” he said firmly. “jungkook’s experience combined with your determination makes for a strong team. i’m confident that you both can handle this.”

turning his attention to you, the chief continued, “here’s what i have in mind: you two will go undercover as a couple. it’s a risky move, but it’s the best way to gain their trust and get the intel we need.”

the suggestion hit you like a cold wave. the thought of pretending to be involved in a relationship, with all the implications it carried, brought a flash of painful memories. you saw the ghostly image of your parents—their criminal entanglements, the secrets they harbored, and the tragic end that had defined your life. the prospect of immersing yourself in a false identity stirred up feelings of unease and internal conflict.

jungkook seemed to sense your hesitation but maintained his professional demeanor. he simply nodded in reluctant agreement, his eyes briefly meeting yours. “fine,” he said, “but let’s make this clear—don’t fuck it up.”

the chief, satisfied with your acceptance, stood and dismissed you. “get prepared,” he said, “we’ll need to move quickly. i expect updates as soon as you have them.” as he left the office, the weight of the situation settled heavily on your shoulders. the task ahead was daunting, the stakes high, and the personal cost considerable. jungkook’s parting words echoed in your mind as he walked away, leaving you with a renewed sense of purpose mixed with a lingering apprehension.

the sun had begun to dip below the horizon when you and jungkook convened in the small, windowless meeting room of the precinct. the walls were lined with whiteboards scrawled with notes and diagrams, evidence of the case you were about to dive into. the room was bathed in the cold glow of fluorescent lights, casting a sterile, almost clinical ambiance that seemed to fit the seriousness of the task ahead.

he had already spread out a series of case files and photographs on the long conference table. you approached, pulling out the chair opposite him and taking a seat. as you glanced over the materials, the weight of the operation settled in. the mafia’s structure, their operations, key players—every detail was crucial.

“alright, let’s start with the basics,” you said, flipping open a file. “we need to understand their hierarchy and get close enough to gather intel.” jungkook nodded, but his eyes betrayed a hint of impatience. “we know that already. the real question is how we’re going to get in. we need to build trust, but we have to be careful not to blow our cover.”

you sighed, running a hand through your hair. “we’ve gone over this. we need to present ourselves as a couple who’s looking to get involved in their operations. it’s a risky move, but it’s our best shot.” jungkook leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, his gaze fixed on the papers. “so, we’re just supposed to show up, act like we’re madly in love, and hope they let us in? it’s not that simple.”

the frustration in his voice was evident, and you couldn’t help but snap back. “well, if you have a better plan, i’m all ears. otherwise, we’re going with this.” his face darkened, his eyes narrowing as he responded sharply, “this isn’t gonna work if we can’t even pretend to like each other. you need to hate me a little less, or this whole thing is a waste of time.”

you raised an eyebrow, caught off guard by his candor. “what do you mean, ‘hate you’? i don’t hate you.” his expression was a mix of surprise and annoyance. “everyone here either hates me or fears me. i’ve never met anyone who didn’t feel one of those things.”

you met his gaze firmly, your voice steady. “i have nothing to hate or be afraid of. i’m here to do a job, and that’s what matters.”

at your words, jungkook’s surprise shifted into something else—an unexpected, almost unsettling smile. it was brief but intense, revealing a glimpse of vulnerability beneath his hardened exterior. you felt a shiver run down your spine, unsure of how to respond to the change in his demeanor.

clearing your throat, you forced yourself to refocus on the case. “so, let’s get back to it. how do we manage to get into their inner circle without raising suspicions?”

jungkook straightened, his professional mask back in place. “we need to establish a story that’s believable. if we’re going in as a couple, we need to make it convincing. they’ll want to see that we’re genuinely interested in their operations, not just posing for the sake of an investigation.”

you nodded, absorbing his words. “right. we should start by researching the specific events they’re involved in. we need to find a way to approach them as potential investors or partners, something that makes us valuable to their operations.”

jungkook flipped through the files, pointing to a set of documents. “these are some of their recent deals and contacts. we can use this information to craft our backstory. maybe we should focus on a particular aspect of their business, like their money laundering operations. it’s a sensitive topic for them, and showing interest could get us closer.”

you leaned in, examining the documents he highlighted. “that makes sense. if we can convince them we’re serious about investing or collaborating, it might give us the leverage we need.” his gaze softened slightly, though his demeanor remained businesslike. “we should also work on our cover story—something that feels authentic. it has to be detailed enough to withstand scrutiny, but flexible enough to adapt as needed.”

as the conversation continued, the tension between you seemed to ebb and flow. the earlier friction had given way to a more collaborative atmosphere, though jungkook’s sharpness remained. the plan was forming, piece by piece, and despite the challenges, you felt a cautious optimism about the direction you were heading.

the room filled with the sound of shuffling papers and the occasional murmur of discussion as you both delved deeper into the case. it was clear that working together would be fraught with difficulties, but there was a shared sense of purpose driving you forward. as you finalized the details of your plan, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this partnership, however strained, would be pivotal to the success of the mission. with his experience and your determination, there was hope that you could navigate the treacherous waters of the criminal underworld and come out on the other side.

the two of you entered the chief’s office, the space exuding authority with its polished mahogany desk and high-backed leather chairs. the chief sat behind his desk, reviewing papers with a concentration that was almost palpable. his eyes flickered up as you and jungkook approached, and he gestured for you both to take a seat.

“so,” the chief began, his tone commanding, “what have you come up with?”

you cleared your throat, your nerves barely hidden behind a facade of calm professionalism. “we’ve reviewed the case files and cross-referenced them with known locations and events. it turns out some of the suspects frequently visit a particular club. our plan is to use that as our entry point. we’ll attend the club, make ourselves noticeable, and try to attract their attention.”

the chief raised an eyebrow, a hint of surprise crossing his features. “you seem quite familiar with this kind of operation. is that experience talking?”

the question struck a chord deep within you. you stiffened, feeling a sudden weight on your chest. memories of your parents—of their life entangled in crime and the fatal consequences of their choices—flooded your mind. you clenched your fists in your lap, struggling to maintain your composure. the weight of their actions and their ultimate fate bore down on you, leaving you speechless.

jungkook, sensing the tension, cleared his throat and turned to the chief. “so, is the plan good to go?” the chief nodded, still looking slightly taken aback. “yes, it’s approved. make sure you follow through meticulously.”

as you and jungkook prepared to leave the office, he leaned closer, his voice low. “the chief has a point. you seem to know a lot about these operations. it’s almost as if you’ve had firsthand experience.” you stopped in your tracks, the words hitting you harder than you expected. your heart pounded in your chest, and you felt a deep, uncomfortable twist in your stomach. jungkook’s observation was unsettlingly accurate, and you knew it was time to confront the shadows of your past.

turning to face him, you took a steadying breath. “i do have experience. my parents were involved in the underworld—running illegal operations, managing deals. they were deeply entrenched in the criminal world.”

jungkook’s eyes widened, a mixture of shock and disbelief crossing his face. you continued, your voice steady but tinged with an emotional edge, “they were consumed by their greed, and it ultimately led to their deaths. i wanted to distance myself from their life and prove that i could be more than just their legacy. that’s why i became a police officer—to fight against the kind of world they lived in.” he remained silent, his expression a complex blend of empathy and confusion. his eyes met yours, but he didn’t speak, as if searching for the right words or grappling with his own thoughts.

you felt the weight of his gaze and the burden of your past crashing down on you. with a final, lingering look, you turned and walked out of the chief’s office. each step you took echoed with the heaviness of your confession and the turmoil of your memories. you left jungkook behind, the silence between you now filled with unspoken words and unresolved tension.

that night, you prepared for the assignment with an unease that settled deep in your bones. the weight of your decision pressed heavily on your shoulders as you stared at yourself in the mirror. the apartment was filled with the cloying scent of perfume and the electric hum of makeup lights, casting a harsh glow that accentuated your tense expression.

you began the transformation, each movement deliberate and filled with a mix of apprehension and resolve. you started with your makeup, applying heavier layers than usual. the foundation was thick and flawless, masking the fatigue in your skin. you carefully blended eyeshadow into dark, sultry hues, drawing attention to your eyes with dramatic eyeliner. the lipstick you chose was a deep, daring red—an assertive statement you were determined to make.

next came the dress—a silver sheath that clung to your figure, sparkling under the dim lights of your bathroom. it was revealing, designed to captivate and command attention. the fabric felt cool and alien against your skin, every movement making the dress shimmer with a deceptive allure. you slipped on the matching high heels, their sharp, stiletto heels adding an extra edge to your demeanor.

as you looked at your reflection, you felt a pang of disconnection. the person staring back at you was a stranger, adorned in clothes that seemed to represent everything you weren’t—a stark contrast to your true self. the glamorous exterior was a necessary facade for the job, but it felt like a mask, concealing your true identity beneath layers of artifice. despite the discomfort, you steeled yourself. You had a mission to complete, and no amount of emotional turmoil would deter you.

the sound of a car horn honking outside shattered your thoughts, pulling you from your introspection. you took a deep breath and exited your apartment, the cold night air meeting you as you stepped out. there, beside his car, was jungkook.

when his eyes landed on you, they widened in shock, clearly taken aback by your transformation. his gaze swept over you with a mixture of surprise and admiration. you felt a blush of self-consciousness as you met his eyes, his reaction a silent commentary on how different you looked. despite the initial shock, there was a flicker of appreciation in his eyes—an acknowledgment of your effort.

you, too, were momentarily stunned by jungkook’s appearance. he stood beside his sleek car, dressed impeccably in a tailored suit that accentuated his strong frame. his look was polished and sophisticated, contrasting sharply with your own provocative attire. the suit was a deep navy, with a crisp white shirt and a tie that added a touch of elegance to his ensemble. he looked every bit the part of a man who belonged in high society, and his presence was both reassuring and intimidating.

clearing your throat to mask your surprise, you asked, “are we good to go?” his expression softened slightly, and he nodded. “yes, we’re ready. let’s get going.”

he opened the car door for you with a chivalrous gesture, the smooth motion of the handle a stark contrast to the tension you felt. you slid into the car, the interior’s plush comfort a brief reprieve from the stress. jungkook closed the door behind you and took his place in the driver’s seat, the engine rumbling to life as he navigated the streets towards the club. as the car glided through the night, you could not shake the feeling of being on the edge of something profound. the club’s lights were already visible in the distance, casting a neon glow against the night sky. you glanced at jungkook, noting his focused expression and the way he gripped the steering wheel.

the car rolled to a smooth stop outside the club, and as the engine’s hum faded, the scene before you emerged from the darkness. the club was a sprawling edifice of neon lights and shadowy corners, its façade a patchwork of flickering signs and half-hidden windows. the sign above the entrance, flashing in an intermittent crimson glow, read “la lune” in bold, cursive script. the letters seemed to pulse with a rhythm that matched the bass-heavy thrum of music escaping from within.

jungkook glanced at you, his eyes betraying a hint of concern masked by his usual stoic demeanor. “are you ready?” you nodded, forcing a confident smile. “let’s do this.”

with that, you stepped out of the car and made your way to the entrance. jungkook gave you a curt nod before heading off to blend into the shadows, his own role in this operation beginning in earnest. the club’s bouncers gave you a cursory glance, their eyes barely flicking over you as they were more focused on the stream of patrons entering and exiting. you walked through the velvet-draped doorway and into the dimly lit interior, where the scent of smoke, alcohol, and perfume mingled in the air.

the club’s interior was a labyrinth of opulence and decadence. low, plush couches with black leather upholstery lined the walls, each surrounding low tables adorned with empty glasses and half-eaten plates of food. crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, their multi-colored lights casting an otherworldly glow over the patrons. the dance floor was a pulsing sea of bodies, the crowd moving in a hypnotic rhythm to the pounding beat of the music that reverberated through the space. the walls were adorned with dark, abstract art that seemed to shift and swirl with the ever-changing lights.

you approached the bar, ordering a drink to help steady your nerves. the bartender, a burly man with a face that seemed permanently set in a scowl, slid a glass of something strong and smoky towards you. you took a deep sip, feeling the warmth spread through you as the liquor began to dull your apprehensions.

as you sipped your drink, you kept a watchful eye on the crowd. it wasn’t long before you noticed a group of men—shady and well-dressed—making their way to a semi-private area cordoned off by an almost transparent curtain. they moved with a sense of purpose, their body language exuding an air of authority and secrecy. Intrigued, you decided to follow.

the curtain parted slightly as you approached, and you slipped behind it, careful not to make any noise. you found yourself in a small, dimly lit room, sparsely furnished with a few plush chairs and a single pole set in the center. the men were gathered around, their conversation low but intense.

one of them, a man with slicked-back hair and an air of casual arrogance, noticed your presence. his gaze flicked over you with a mixture of surprise and interest. “if you’re as pretty as you seem, step out for us,” he said, his voice smooth but with a hint of condescension.

with a flick of your wrist, you let the curtain fall back and stepped into the room, the soft glow of the lights highlighting your silhouette. you walked confidently to the center of the room, where the men’s eyes were fixed on you. a smirk played on your lips as you adopted a flirtatious stance, feeling the weight of their gazes like a tangible pressure.

“good evening, gentlemen,” you purred, your voice dripping with charm as you approached them. you could feel the air shift as their attention intensified, their interest piqued by your boldness. one of the men, seated comfortably in a chair with an air of superiority, raised an eyebrow. “care to put on a show for us?” he asked, gesturing toward the pole.

you raised an eyebrow in response, a playful glint in your eye. “if that’s what you’d like,” you said, moving toward the pole with a graceful, deliberate sway.

you began to dance, your movements fluid and mesmerizing. you wrapped your body around the pole, performing with a practiced ease that drew appreciative murmurs from the men. the room was filled with the sound of your high heels clicking on the polished floor and the soft, rhythmic rustle of your dress. when you finished, you stepped away from the pole and approached the man who had made the initial request. you perched yourself on his lap, feeling his warm breath against your neck as you leaned in close. his hands instinctively went to your waist, and you let him savor the moment as he praised you with an approving nod.

“she’s a gem, isn’t she?” a voice said from behind you. both you and the man turned to see jungkook stepping out from the shadows, a cigarette lazily hanging from his lips. the sudden appearance of him, dressed in a sharp suit, added an unexpected layer to the encounter. the man’s eyes narrowed with curiosity as he regarded him. “and who might you be?” he asked, his tone laced with suspicion.

jungkook exhaled a plume of smoke and took a seat on an empty couch, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp. “min woobin,” he said, gesturing to you with a casual wave. “this is my girlfriend, lee rachel.”

you leaned closer to the man, your breath hot against his ear. “it’s a pleasure to meet you,” you whispered, your voice low and sultry. the man’s demeanor softened slightly, and he seemed genuinely intrigued. “so, what brings you both here?” he asked, his eyes flickering between you and jungkook.

jungkook took a slow drag from his cigarette before responding. “we’re here to do business. i’ve heard quite a bit about your operations, and we’re interested in learning more.” the man stiffened slightly at his words, his gaze shifting to you as you continued to maintain your intimate position on his lap. “you’d have to meet my boss,” he said, his voice low and guarded.

you trailed your fingers along his chest, your touch light and deliberate. “if he’s as handsome as you are,” you said with a flirtatious smile, “we just might be interested.” the man’s expression grew pleased, and he reached for your waist with a touch that bordered on possessive. you halted him with a click of your tongue, taking his hands and guiding them higher, just above your thighs.

“only if you let us meet him,” you said, your voice low and commanding. jungkook’s face betrayed a flicker of surprise as he watched the interaction unfold, but the man, undeterred, nodded in agreement. “alright,” he said, a hint of anticipation in his voice. “i’ll arrange for you to meet him.”

as you and jungkook followed the group of men away from the club, you could feel a subtle undercurrent of tension in the air, a quiet anticipation that prickled at your skin. the men led you through a maze of streets, their steps confident and purposeful. the cityscape blurred into a dark tapestry of neon lights and shadowy alleyways as you climbed into the back of a sleek black car, its windows tinted to an opaque darkness.

jungkook settled beside you, the soft hum of the engine providing a low, rhythmic backdrop to the night’s proceedings. he glanced at you, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “you’re playing your role well,” he said, his voice low and tinged with an undertone that you couldn’t quite place. the subtle shift in his tone left you with a sense of unease, but you smiled back at him, determined to stay in character.

“thanks, woobin,” you replied, your voice smooth and confident. the car glided through the city streets, weaving through traffic with practiced ease. the journey seemed to stretch on endlessly, the city lights outside shifting from bright and vibrant to dim and foreboding. as the vehicle took a final turn into a narrow, secluded road, the surroundings became increasingly desolate. the buildings were older, their facades grimy and weathered, creating a stark contrast to the more polished areas you had passed through.

the car stopped in front of an unassuming warehouse, its exterior nondescript except for a small, barely visible sign that read “apex distribution.” the men exited the vehicle first, holding the door open for you and jungkook as you followed them inside. the interior was dimly lit, the overhead lights flickering intermittently. the space was vast and industrial, filled with crates and metal shelving units that cast long, ominous shadows across the concrete floor. the air was heavy with the scent of dampness and rust.

you and jungkook were guided through a series of hallways and staircases, each step echoing in the quiet, oppressive atmosphere. the corridors seemed to go on forever, their walls adorned with faded, peeling posters and graffiti that hinted at the warehouse’s grimy history. finally, the group reached a large, reinforced door. one of the men knocked in a specific pattern, and the door creaked open, revealing a room that contrasted sharply with the warehouse’s exterior.

the room was lit by dim, yellowing lights, casting a harsh, almost sickly glow over its contents. the space was a makeshift arena, its center dominated by a large, circular platform surrounded by a motley assortment of chairs and benches. the walls were lined with various weapons and tools, their purposes unclear but intimidating. a large, imposing man sat at the center of it all, his presence exuding an air of authority and menace.

the men bowed as they approached, their voices low as they informed the boss of the potential recruits. the boss, a man with a heavyset build and a face marked by years of hard living, regarded you and jungkook with a steely gaze. his eyes, cold and calculating, seemed to pierce through you as he assessed the situation.

“you must be lee rachel and min woobin,” he said, his voice gravelly and commanding. you nodded, keeping your composure. “that’s right.”

the boss raised an eyebrow. “are you two dating?” you exchanged a brief glance before affirming, “yes.”

“are you serious about joining?” he asked, his tone firm and scrutinizing. jungkook responded with a decisive nod. “yes.”

the boss leaned back in his chair, his gaze never leaving you. “prove it.”

the simple command caused a ripple of unease between you and jungkook. the atmosphere shifted, the tension palpable as you tried to gauge the meaning behind his words. the boss’s expression remained unreadable, his gaze steady and unwavering. you swallowed, trying to keep your voice steady. “how?”

the boss shrugged nonchalantly, a twisted smile playing on his lips. “you seem like a happy couple. let’s see if joining means more to you than your relationship.”

the words hung in the air, their implications sending a shiver down your spine. the men surrounding you and jungkook began to clear a path, dragging you both towards the center of the room. your heart raced as you looked around, trying to make sense of the unfolding situation. the boss’s men moved with purpose, setting up an impromptu arena. you and jungkook were directed to opposite sides, and gloves were handed to both of you—heavy, black leather that felt oddly cold against your skin. the sense of dread grew as the realization of what was about to unfold hit you.

“what do you want?” you asked, your voice trembling slightly despite your best efforts to stay calm. the boss’s eyes glinted with a cold, calculating light. he took a slow drag from his cigar before exhaling a plume of smoke. “make each other bleed.”

the command was delivered with an unsettling calmness that only added to the intensity of the moment. the men around you watched with a mix of anticipation and approval, their eyes following every movement with rapt attention. jungkook’s face betrayed a flicker of shock, but he quickly masked it with a steely resolve. he glanced at you, his gaze intense and unreadable. the weight of the boss’s challenge settled heavily on both of you, the tension in the room thickening as the reality of the situation sank in.

“prove it,” the boss repeated, his voice echoing in the oppressive silence that followed his declaration.

you and jungkook stood in the center of the arena, the gloves tight on your hands. the noise of the crowd faded into the background as you focused on each other, the enormity of the situation pressing in on you. this was not just a test of physical endurance but a trial of your commitment to the cause and to each other.

you met jungkook’s eyes across the makeshift arena, the intensity of the moment reflected in his gaze. there was a hesitation there, a flicker of reluctance that spoke volumes. his eyes, usually so firm and resolute, now held an apologetic edge that made your heart ache. the silent communication between you was almost palpable, the unspoken question hanging heavy in the air.

“are you sure?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, laden with concern. you nodded, the decision burning through you despite the pain it was causing. “i’m sure.”

the look of regret in his eyes was almost too much to bear. but there was no turning back now. the boss’s eyes glinted with cold satisfaction as he watched the exchange, his anticipation evident as he leaned back in his chair, waiting for the action to unfold.

the fight began with a sudden burst of energy, both of you moving with a blend of calculated aggression and reluctant restraint. jungkook’s punches were sharp and precise, his movements swift and fluid. you countered with equal intensity, each strike met with a determined resolve to prove your worth. the air was filled with the sharp, jarring sounds of flesh against flesh, each impact reverberating through the arena.

you could feel the sting of pain with every blow, the force of jungkook’s punches causing your muscles to ache and your breath to catch. blood began to mix with sweat, streaking down your face and staining your clothes. the once pristine floor was becoming a grim tableau of bruises and blood, each mark a testament to the ferocity of your struggle.

jungkook's face was a mask of concentration, his expression shifting between resolve and regret as he landed hit after hit. you retaliated with just as much fervor, your punches landing with a satisfying thud as you fought to maintain your ground. the fight was a brutal dance, each move a testament to your determination and unwillingness to back down. the battle continued, each strike leaving a trail of pain and fatigue. both of you were breathing heavily, your movements becoming more sluggish as the minutes wore on. blood mixed with sweat, soaking through your clothes and creating a slippery, crimson sheen on the arena floor. the grunts and gasps of exertion filled the space, punctuated by the occasional groan of pain.

eventually, the intensity of the fight began to take its toll. both of you were staggering, your energy waning as exhaustion set in. you stumbled, falling to the ground beside jungkook, your body aching with the cumulative effects of the fight. the floor was unforgiving, the cold concrete pressing against your bruised and battered skin. despite the pain, you forced yourself to stand, pushing through the fatigue that threatened to overwhelm you. jungkook was in a similar state, his face smeared with blood and sweat, his movements unsteady. you both faced each other, each breath labored and heavy, the fight leaving its mark on both of you.

as you struggled to regain your footing, the boss’s voice cut through the haze of pain and exhaustion. “i’ve seen enough.”

the words brought a moment of trepidation. you exchanged worried glances with jungkook, the uncertainty of the boss’s statement hanging in the air. the men around the arena shifted, their expressions unreadable as they awaited the boss’s final verdict. the boss’s gaze was fixed on you and jungkook, his expression inscrutable. he paused, letting the silence stretch, the tension palpable as you waited for his decision. finally, he broke the silence with a slight, almost imperceptible nod.

“welcome aboard,” he said, his voice carrying a cold finality.

relief washed over you, mingling with the pain and exhaustion that had become a part of you. you looked at jungkook, who was staring at you with a mix of disbelief and exhaustion. despite the bruises and blood, there was a flicker of something like relief in his eyes. the men around you began to move, their demeanor shifting from anticipation to approval. the boss’s words had sealed your place, and as the arena cleared, you and jungkook were left standing amid the aftermath of your brutal test. the fight had been a grueling ordeal, but it had served its purpose, proving your resolve and determination.

in the dimly lit room, you tended to your wounds with a focused, practiced precision. the light from the single lamp cast a soft glow, illuminating your silhouette as you worked. the air was thick with the mingled scents of blood, sweat, and antiseptic, creating a heavy atmosphere that mirrored the intensity of the fight you had just endured.

you stood in front of the mirror, your shirt discarded, leaving you in just a pair of underwear and a loose shirt. the room was small but functional, with a modest bed and a few scattered belongings that gave it a lived-in feel. as you methodically wrapped a bandage around your waist, you could feel jungkook’s gaze on you, his eyes tracking your every movement with a mixture of concern and something more.

he was leaning against the doorframe, his own wounds treated but still fresh. his eyes were drawn to you, and though he tried to avert his gaze, he couldn't help but take in the sight of you, so focused and composed despite the pain.

“i didn’t expect you to hit so hard,” he said, breaking the silence. there was a hint of admiration in his voice, though it was tinged with the discomfort of knowing just how hard you had fought. you chuckled softly, meeting his gaze in the mirror. “could say the same to you.”

the exchange was light, but the air was thick with an undercurrent of something unspoken. as you finished wrapping the bandage around your waist, you moved to tend to his injuries. he stood still, watching as you approached him, your movements fluid and deliberate. his gaze lingered on you, taking in the way you moved with a mix of tenderness and professionalism, your big shirt barely covering your figure.

you smiled at the intensity of his gaze, the way his eyes seemed to follow your every move. “don’t even dream about it,” you said, your tone teasing. he scoffed, but there was a softness in his eyes that belied his attempt to appear indifferent. “i don’t know what you mean.”

you leaned in close to him, your face mere inches from his, and his breath caught in his throat. the proximity was charged with a palpable tension, his body tensing as if bracing for something more. your breath mingled with his, the heat of the moment making your pulse quicken. but before he could react, you pulled away, a teasing smile playing on your lips.

“your forehead’s bleeding,” you said, gently wiping away the blood with a piece of cloth. he looked at you with a mixture of surprise and sarcasm. “my savior,” he said, his tone dripping with mock reverence.

you continued to clean his wound, the act both intimate and professional. each touch was deliberate, your fingers brushing against his skin with a careful precision. the contrast between your soft, gentle care and the roughness of the fight was stark, creating a moment of connection amidst the chaos. as you finished, you met his gaze once more, the teasing smile lingering on your lips. the air between you was charged, the earlier tension now replaced with a different kind of intensity. jungkook’s eyes held a mixture of gratitude and something more, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken bond that had formed between you during the fight.

the days and nights in the mafia compound blended together, each one a test of your will and resolve. every time you emerged from your shared room with jungkook, the world outside seemed a little darker, the people a little more dangerous. but something else changed too—something subtle, almost imperceptible, but undeniable. the more time you spent with him in this underworld, the closer you became.

at first, the closeness was purely practical. you needed to rely on each other to survive, to navigate the twisted labyrinth of the mafia’s inner workings. conversations began as cold, clipped exchanges of necessary information—strategies for gaining the trust of the men around you, plans for your next steps, analyzing every word and action of those who held power over you. but as the days passed, those exchanges grew warmer, more layered with unspoken understanding. the subtle nuances of your interactions began to shift. when you spoke to him, it wasn’t just about the mission anymore—it was about something deeper, something that neither of you could quite name.

one evening, you found yourselves sitting side by side on the small bed in your room, the low hum of the compound's activity filtering through the thin walls. jungkook was leaning against the headboard, his eyes fixed on the ceiling as if lost in thought. you were beside him, close enough to feel the warmth of his body, yet there was still a small distance between you—both physical and emotional. “the big deal with the weapons shipment’s soon,” you said, breaking the silence that had settled between you. “we need to make sure everything goes smoothly.”

jungkook nodded, his expression serious. “i know. but i’ve been thinking, if things go wrong, we need a backup plan.” you turned to him, studying his profile. the sharp lines of his face were softened by the dim light, and for a moment, he looked almost vulnerable. “what are you suggesting?” you asked, your voice quieter now.

“if it gets too dangerous, we pull out. no heroics,” he said, finally meeting your gaze. “i’m not risking your life for this.”

the sincerity in his tone caught you off guard, and you felt a flicker of something warm in your chest—something that had been growing, slowly, over the weeks you had spent together. You weren’t sure what it was, but it made you want to trust him more than you ever had before.

“i’m not risking your life either,” you replied, your voice just as firm. “we’re in this together, aren’t we?”

he looked at you for a long moment, as if searching your eyes for something. Then, almost imperceptibly, he smiled—a small, soft curve of his lips that made your heart skip a beat. it was a rare sight, one that you had only seen a handful of times, and each time it felt like a gift. the silence between you grew comfortable, the tension that had always simmered beneath the surface beginning to ease. you could feel the shift in the air, the way your bodies seemed to naturally gravitate toward each other, closing the small distance that remained.

as the night wore on, you found yourselves talking more, the conversation flowing easier than it ever had before. it was still about the mission, but there were small moments of vulnerability woven into your words—tiny glimpses into the people you were behind the facades you wore for the mafia. “you know,” he said after a while, his voice softer now, “when we first started this, i didn’t think we’d make it this far. i thought Ii’d end up getting us both killed.”

“you’re not giving yourself enough credit,” you replied, your tone equally gentle. “you’ve kept us alive, and more than that—you’ve kept us sane.” he chuckled softly, the sound low and warm. “you’ve been keeping me sane too, you know.” the admission hung in the air between you, and for a moment, neither of you knew what to say. you simply sat there, side by side, in a quiet understanding that was more powerful than any words you could have spoken.

as the days continued, those moments of quiet closeness became more frequent. you found yourself seeking out his presence whenever you could, whether it was during a tense meeting with the mafia bosses or a rare moment of downtime in your room. and he did the same—he gravitated toward you, his presence a constant, reassuring anchor in the chaos of your surroundings. there were nights when you would find yourselves sitting on the floor of your room, sharing a bottle of whiskey you had stolen from the compound’s stash. the alcohol would loosen your tongues, and the conversations would drift from the mission to more personal topics—your pasts, your fears, your dreams for a life beyond the mafia.

one such night, jungkook leaned back against the wall, his legs stretched out in front of him as he stared at the ceiling. “you ever think about what you’ll do when this is all over?” he asked, his voice tinged with a wistful longing. you took a sip of whiskey, savoring the burn as it slid down your throat. “sometimes,” you admitted. “but it’s hard to picture a life outside of this. i’ve been doing this for so long, i don’t even know what normal is anymore.”

he nodded, his eyes still fixed on the ceiling. “yeah, i get that. but, i don’t know, i like to think there’s something better waiting for us. aomething peaceful.” you turned your head to look at him, surprised by the vulnerability in his words. “you really think we’ll find peace?”

he met your gaze, his eyes dark and intense. “if we make it out of this alive, i’ll do everything i can to find it. for both of us.” his words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken promise. you felt a surge of emotion that you hadn’t allowed yourself to feel in a long time—hope. it was fragile and fleeting, but it was there, flickering in your chest like a tiny flame.

the nights grew colder as the days passed, and you found yourselves huddling closer together for warmth. it was an unspoken agreement—neither of you acknowledged it, but neither of you pulled away. when the silence between you stretched on, it was no longer uncomfortable, but rather a shared understanding that words weren’t necessary. there were moments when you caught yourself watching him, studying the way his brow furrowed in concentration as he plotted your next move, or the way his jaw clenched when he was frustrated. and sometimes, you would catch him watching you too, his gaze soft and unreadable, as if he was trying to decipher the puzzle that was you.

one evening, after a particularly grueling day, you found yourselves in the small, makeshift kitchen of the compound, the room dimly lit by a single overhead bulb. you were both exhausted, your bodies aching from the physical and emotional toll of the day. jungkook was leaning against the counter, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched you rummage through the sparse supplies. “we’ve got nothing but instant ramen,” you said, holding up a pack with a grimace. “again.”

he smirked, his eyes twinkling with amusement despite the fatigue etched into his features. “better than nothing, i guess.” you sighed, tearing open the pack and setting a pot of water to boil. as you waited, the silence between you grew, but it was no longer the heavy, tension-filled quiet of before. it was the kind of silence that felt comfortable, like an old friend. when the ramen was finally ready, you split it between two bowls and handed one to jungkook. he took it with a nod of thanks, and the two of you sat down at the small table, eating in companionable silence.

after a while, he set down his bowl, his expression contemplative. “you know,” he began, his voice low, “i never thought i’d say this, but i don’t mind this. being here, with you.” you looked up at him, surprised by his admission. “really?”

he nodded, his eyes meeting yours with a sincerity that made your heart skip a beat. “yeah. i mean, it’s not ideal, obviously. but, i’ve been through worse, and i’ve never had someone to go through it with before. it makes a difference.” his words struck a chord deep within you, stirring emotions that you had long buried. “i feel the same way,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “i never thought i’d trust someone like this again. but with you, it’s different.” his gaze softened, and for a moment, you thought he might reach out, bridge the small gap between you. but instead, he simply nodded, his eyes holding yours with an intensity that left you breathless.

the days passed, each one bringing you closer together in ways you hadn’t anticipated. the connection between you grew, deepened, becoming something more than just the partnership you had started with. it was subtle, unspoken, but it was there—an undercurrent of understanding and shared experience that bound you together in ways you couldn’t explain.

the night had settled in, wrapping the compound in a blanket of darkness and silence. you were in your shared room with jungkook, the dim light from a small lamp casting soft shadows on the walls. the two of you were sitting at the small table in the corner, finishing up the remnants of a late-night meal, the conversation quiet but comfortable. as you were about to clear the dishes, your phone buzzed on the table, the screen lighting up with an incoming call. you glanced at the name flashing on the screen—hoseok.

you hesitated for a moment, then picked up the phone, bringing it to your ear. “hey,” you greeted, your voice soft. “hey,” hoseok’s familiar voice came through, warm and slightly concerned. “are you okay? i haven’t heard from you in a while.”

you smiled, the sound of his voice bringing a sense of comfort that you hadn’t realized you were missing. “i’m okay. things have been intense, but i’m managing.”

“is he being nice?” hoseok asked, his tone light but with a hint of protectiveness that made you smile. you glanced over at jungkook, who was watching you with a curious expression. “yeah, he’s being nice,” you assured, your tone teasing. “no need to worry.”

jungkook’s eyebrows raised slightly at that, but he remained silent, his gaze fixed on you as he continued to eat. hoseok chuckled on the other end of the line. “good. i’d hate to have to come over there and straighten him out.” you laughed softly, shaking your head. “i appreciate the concern, but I think i’ve got it under control.”

there was a brief pause on the other end before hoseok spoke again, his tone more casual. “when you’re back, how about we grab a drink? just to catch up.” you felt a warm, comforting feeling spread through you at the thought. “i’d like that,” you replied, your voice soft.

“great,” he said, the smile evident in his voice. “take care of yourself, alright? i’ll see you when you’re back.” you replied softly, “you too, okay? see you soon.”

you ended the call, setting the phone down on the table. when you looked up, you saw jungkook’s gaze still fixed on you, his expression unreadable. “who was that?” he asked, his voice even but with an edge of something you couldn’t quite place. “hoseok,” you answered casually, not thinking much of it.

jungkook scoffed, a short, disbelieving sound that made you pause. you turned to look at him more closely, frowning slightly. “what’s your problem?” you asked, your tone more curious than accusatory. “nothing,” he replied quickly, too quickly, his eyes darting away from yours.

you tilted your head, studying him. “sure doesn’t seem like nothing.” he didn’t respond, just continued eating, though his movements were more tense, less relaxed than they had been before the call. you decided to brush it off, not wanting to push him on it. “alright, whatever you say,” you muttered, turning your attention back to the dishes. but as you moved around the small room, you could feel his eyes on you, a silent tension hanging in the air between you. it was unlike him to be so off, and it left you feeling uneasy, unsure of what was really going on in his head.

for jungkook, however, the moment you mentioned hoseok’s name, something had shifted inside him. it wasn’t jealousy—at least, that’s what he told himself—but rather an uncomfortable tightness in his chest that he couldn’t quite explain. he didn’t like the idea of you with someone else, especially not someone like hoseok, who was always so damn cheerful and easy to get along with. it bugged him more than it should have, the way you smiled while talking to him, the way your voice softened just a little when you mentioned grabbing a drink with him. he tried to shake it off, telling himself it didn’t matter, that it was none of his business who you spent your time with. but the truth was, it did matter. it mattered more than he was willing to admit, even to himself.

as he sat there, pretending to focus on his meal, his mind kept drifting back to the way you had laughed with hoseok, the way your eyes had lit up at the prospect of seeing him again. it gnawed at him, the thought of you with someone else, and he couldn’t understand why. you were just his partner in this twisted game, nothing more. you had each other’s backs, sure, but that was out of necessity, not anything deeper. at least, that’s what he kept telling himself.

the heavy thud of your fists against the boxing bag echoed through the training room, the sound rhythmic and intense, almost drowning out the rest of the world. your body moved with precision and power, every punch and jab a release of pent-up frustration. sweat poured down your face, your muscles burned, but you pushed on, driven by something deep inside that wouldn’t let you stop.

your breath came in short, sharp bursts, your knuckles aching as they connected with the leather of the bag. you had been at it for what felt like hours, lost in the rhythm, in the need to keep moving, to keep fighting. it was your way of coping, of trying to find some semblance of control in a world that often felt like it was spinning out of your grasp.

the room was dimly lit, the only light coming from the overhead bulbs that cast a faint glow over the equipment. the air was thick with the smell of sweat and the sound of your fists striking the bag, your grunts of effort the only noise breaking the silence. when you finally stopped, your chest heaving with exertion, you stepped back and wiped the sweat from your brow with the back of your hand. your body ached, but it was a good kind of pain, the kind that made you feel alive, grounded.

you glanced around the empty training room, taking a moment to catch your breath before deciding it was time to call it a night. you made your way to the changing rooms, your footsteps echoing in the quiet space. the changing room was deserted, as you expected at this hour. you peeled off your sweat-soaked clothes, your muscles protesting with every movement, and stepped into the shower. the hot water cascaded over your sore body, washing away the sweat and tension, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to relax, to let the steam envelop you in a cocoon of warmth.

but as you stepped out of the shower, the warm water still clinging to your skin, you froze. standing in the doorway of the changing room was a young man, someone you recognized from the boss’s inner circle. his eyes raked over you with a smirk that made your stomach churn with dread. “what the hell are you doing in here?” you demanded, clutching your towel tightly around your body, trying to keep your voice steady despite the fear that gripped you.

he didn’t respond immediately, just took a step closer, his smirk widening. “i know where i am,” he said casually, his voice dripping with arrogance. you felt a surge of panic, your heart pounding in your chest as he continued to approach you. your feet seemed glued to the spot, your body frozen with fear as he reached out and trailed a finger down your neck, sending a shiver of revulsion through you.

“don’t,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

his hand moved to the hem of your towel, tugging at it with a cruel smile. “if you’re as smart as you seem,” he murmured, his breath hot against your skin, “you’ll stay quiet. it’ll hurt a lot less.” tears welled up in your eyes as you clutched the towel desperately, every fiber of your being screaming at you to move, to fight back, but your body refused to obey. you squeezed your eyes shut, praying for the strength to break free, to do anything to get away from him.

but before you could react, the pressure of his hand on your towel was gone, and there was a sudden, violent crash. you opened your eyes to see jungkook, his face twisted in a rage you had never seen before, slamming the man against the lockers. the sound of metal denting under the force echoed through the room as he delivered punch after punch, each one filled with a fury that left you paralyzed. the man crumpled to the floor, blood trickling from his nose, his smirk long gone, replaced by a look of terror. jungkook didn’t stop until the man was barely conscious, his body limp and defenseless.

when it was over, jungkook turned to you, his chest heaving, his hands still clenched into fists. the anger in his eyes softened as he saw you standing there, trembling and tearful, and he crossed the distance between you in an instant. he pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as you finally broke down, sobbing against his chest. his hand stroked your wet hair gently, his voice soothing as he whispered, “it’s okay. you’re safe. i’ve got you.” he adjusted your towel, making sure it was securely wrapped around you, before pulling you even closer, his grip on you protective, as if he could shield you from everything in the world that could hurt you.

it took several minutes before your sobs quieted, your breath coming in shaky gasps. when you finally pulled back, jungkook’s eyes were filled with concern, his hands still resting gently on your shoulders. you nodded, still trembling, as you moved to get dressed. your hands were shaky, fumbling with your clothes as you tried to regain some semblance of control. the fear lingered, a cold, unshakable presence that had settled deep in your chest.

he watched you, his gaze never leaving you as you struggled to pull on your clothes. once you were dressed, he grabbed a towel and began drying your hair, his touch gentle, almost tender. the silence between you was heavy, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. if anything, it was filled with an unspoken understanding, a connection that had been forged in the heat of the moment.

as he dried your hair, you couldn’t help but feel comforted by his touch, by the way he seemed to know exactly what you needed without you having to say a word. when he was finished, you turned to him, offering him a small, grateful smile. “thank you,” you whispered, your voice still trembling slightly.

he frowned, his jaw tightening. “i should’ve killed him on the spot,” he muttered, his voice low and dangerous. you shook your head quickly, your hand reaching out to touch his arm. “no, you would’ve lost your job,” you said softly, pausing before adding with a weak attempt at a smile, “you wouldn’t get to be my fake boyfriend anymore.” the tension in the room thickened, the words hanging in the air between you. his eyes darkened, his expression serious as he studied your face.

“i don’t think i wanna be your fake boyfriend anymore,” he said quietly, his voice almost a whisper.

fear gripped you again, but this time it wasn’t the fear of the man who had just threatened you. it was the fear of losing jungkook, of him being disgusted by what had just happened, or maybe disappointed in you for not fighting back harder. your mind raced, jumping to the worst conclusions. “why?” you asked, your voice barely audible, dreading the answer.

he didn’t respond immediately. instead, he closed the distance between you, his hand reaching up to cup your cheek gently. his touch was warm, comforting, and before you could process what was happening, he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. the kiss was soft, tentative at first, as if he was giving you the chance to pull away. but when you didn’t, when you found yourself leaning into him instead, he deepened the kiss, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you closer. every lingering fear, every doubt, seemed to melt away in that moment, replaced by the overwhelming sensation of being held by someone who truly cared.

when he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your lips. “i don’t wanna pretend anymore,” he whispered, his voice filled with a raw honesty that made your heart ache. you looked up at him, searching his eyes for any sign of doubt, but all you saw was the same vulnerability you felt, the same desire to be something more than just partners in this dangerous game.

you nodded slowly, a small, genuine smile breaking through the fear that had gripped you for so long. “neither do i,” you whispered back. you stood there, your heart still racing from the intensity of what had just happened, but now it was for a different reason. jungkook’s words hung in the air between you, and the warmth of his breath still lingered on your lips, a gentle reminder of the kiss you had just shared. you looked up at him, your eyes meeting his, and in that moment, you knew there was no going back.

without a word, you leaned in, closing the distance between you once more. this time, when your lips met his, there was no hesitation. the kiss was deeper, more urgent, a reflection of all the emotions that had been building up inside you for so long. you felt his arms tighten around you, pulling you closer, his body pressed against yours in a way that made you feel both grounded and weightless all at once.

as the kiss deepened, a sense of dread that had been gnawing at you all night began to dissipate, replaced by a warmth that spread through your entire being. it was as if every bad thing, every fear, every moment of uncertainty that had plagued you was being washed away in the heat of his embrace. with him, you felt safe, protected, as though nothing else in the world mattered. the training room, the locker room, the man who had just tried to violate you—everything faded into the background until all that was left was jungkook and the way he made you feel.

you lost yourself in the kiss, in the way his lips moved against yours, in the way his hands slid up your back, holding you like you were something precious, something he was afraid to lose. it wasn’t just a kiss; it was a lifeline, something to hold onto in the darkness that surrounded your lives.

but then, he pulled back just slightly, enough to look into your eyes, his breath ragged as he searched your face for any sign of doubt. “are you sure?” he asked, his voice low, almost a whisper. “i don’t want to push you, if it’s too soon.”

you shook your head, cutting him off before he could finish. “it’s not,” you whispered, your voice trembling with the intensity of your feelings. “it’s not too soon, jungkook. i don’t know if we’ll even be alive tomorrow, and i don’t wanna waste another second.”

his eyes darkened with something you couldn’t quite place—desire, fear, something more—but he didn’t hesitate. he closed the distance between you again, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was even hotter, even more consuming than the last. there was a desperation in the way you both kissed, as if you were trying to pour everything you felt into this one moment, as if the world might end at any second and all that would be left was this—this connection, this fire that burned between you.

his hands roamed your body, caressing your back, your sides, his touch sending shivers down your spine. every brush of his fingers, every press of his lips, made you feel more alive than you had in a long time. it was as if all the fear, all the darkness that had been clouding your mind was being driven out by the sheer intensity of what you were sharing with him. you could feel his heart beating against your chest, his breath warm against your skin as he deepened the kiss, his tongue brushing against yours in a way that made you gasp, your hands gripping his shirt, pulling him even closer. the world around you ceased to exist; there was only him and the way he made you feel like you could survive anything as long as he was by your side.

he pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts as he held you close. “i’m not gonna let anything happen to you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “not as long as i’m alive.” you smiled softly, your hands trembling slightly as they caressed his face, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “i believe you,” you whispered back, your voice barely audible, but he heard you. you could see the way his eyes softened, the way his grip on you tightened just a fraction more, as if he was afraid to let go.

his hands began to explore again, sliding down to your waist, then up to your chest. he cupped one of your tits gently, his thumb brushing over the peak of your nipple, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. you gasped into his mouth, arching into his touch. the heat between you was palpable, a living, breathing entity that demanded more. he broke the kiss, his eyes never leaving yours as he lowered his head to take your nipple into his mouth, sucking and teasing until you were moaning softly. the sensation was too much, a beautiful contrast to the harsh reality that had been your world for so long.

his hand slid down, toying with the string of your sweatpants. you stepped back slightly, allowing him to pull them down, along with your panties, until you were standing before him in nothing but your shirt. he took a moment to look at you, his eyes traveling over your body with a hunger that made you feel exposed and desired all at once. you could feel yourself practically dripping at the sight of him, the anticipation of what was to come making it difficult to stand still. but you could't hold back, not with the foreign, hungry look in his eyes.

your hand trembled as it dropped down to his pants. you could see how hard he was through the soft, grey fabric, but seeing it wasn't enough. you wanted to taste him, to feel him inside you, to make him feel as good as he made you feel. his fingers rubbed at your clit almost too gently, dipping into the sweet wetness as you fumbled with his boxers.

finally, you managed to free his cock, and you couldn't help but stare at it. it was beautiful, thick and veiny, standing proud and ready. jungkook groaned as you wrapped your hand around it, your grip firm but tentative. he leaned back into the chair, eyes closed, as you began to stroke him, your movements growing more confident with each stroke. you wanted to remember every inch of him, every detail, so you could replay it in your mind when you were apart.

his eyes snapped open, locking onto yours again. “ are you sure?” he asked, his voice low and rough with desire. you didn't answer with words. instead, you dropped to your knees and took him into your mouth, your eyes never leaving his. you heard him suck in a sharp breath as you began to suck, taking him deep and swirling your tongue around the tip. you felt empowered, in control, as he squirmed in the chair. your hands cupped his balls, rolling them gently as you took more of him in, your cheeks hollowing with each bob of your head.

his grip tightened in your hair as he began to thrust, fucking your mouth with a gentle force that had you gagging slightly. you didn't care, you liked it rough, liked the way he was claiming you, even if it was just your mouth for now. you felt your pussy clench, desperate for his touch. “fuck, baby,” he murmured, his voice strained, “you're so good at that.”

his praise spurred you on, and you took him deeper, your throat tightening around his cock. you could feel his thighs tense, his body coiling as he approached climax. his hand slid down to your clit, rubbing furiously as you sucked him off, needing your own release to match his. just as you felt the beginnings of your own orgasm, he pulled you up, your mouth slipping off his cock with an obscene pop. “gotta cum inside you,” he said, his voice gruff and urgent.

you nodded, too overwhelmed by desire to speak. he stood, lifting you and pressing your back against the wall, your legs wrapping around his waist. without another word, he slammed into you, the wall rocking with the force of his thrusts. you threw your head back, the cold metal of the wall pressing into your spine as he claimed you, his hips slamming against yours. it was everything you had dreamed of and more, the reality of having him inside you so much better than the fantasy.

you could feel your orgasm building, the tension in your body reaching a crescendo. “yes, fuck, harder,” you moaned, your voice echoing off the walls of the dimly lit room. jungkook complied, his strokes growing more intense, his grip on your hips tightening. his mouth found your neck, teeth grazing the sensitive skin, leaving a trail of love bites and hickeys that would be a secret testament to your passionate encounter. the pain only added to your pleasure, making you want him even more.

you came with a scream, your body tightening around him as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you. jungkook followed quickly, his cock pulsing inside you as he filled you with his warm cum. you felt him collapse against you, his breath hot and ragged in your ear. for a moment, you just stayed there, his cock still inside you, both of you panting and trying to catch your breath. the reality of what had just happened washed over you, leaving you feeling both satisfied and a little bit scared of the feelings that had been unleashed. but for now, all that mattered was the afterglow, the feeling of his warmth and the sticky evidence of your passion drying on your skin.

you knew that this was just the beginning of a very complicated dance, one that would have consequences that neither of you could predict. but in that moment, all you could do was hold onto him, basking in the feeling of being wanted, of being needed. his mouth found yours again, and the kiss was gentle this time, filled with something deeper than lust. it was a promise, an unspoken vow that you would navigate this dangerous world together, come hell or high water.

the night was quiet, a gentle hum of the city outside the window barely breaking the silence that filled your shared room. you lay beside jungkook, your body clad only in his oversized shirt and a pair of his boxers. his strong arms were wrapped protectively around you, holding you close as if he could shield you from the world with just his embrace. the warmth of his body pressed against yours was comforting, a soothing balm against the chaos of your thoughts. you felt safe there, cocooned in his arms, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you didn’t regret a thing.

as you drifted off to sleep, your head nestled against his chest, you felt the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear. it was a reassuring sound, grounding you, reminding you that, at least for tonight, you weren’t alone. the weight of his arm across your waist anchored you, and you let yourself sink into the comfort of the moment, your breathing slowly syncing with his. the world outside, with all its dangers and uncertainties, faded into the background as you let yourself be lulled into a peaceful sleep, the darkness of the room a stark contrast to the warmth you felt in his embrace.

when you woke the next morning, the soft light of dawn filtered through the curtains, casting a gentle glow over the room. you blinked sleepily, momentarily disoriented, before realizing where you were—still in jungkook’s arms, his grip on you as secure as it had been the night before. you tilted your head slightly to look at him, his features softened in sleep, his usually intense expression relaxed. there was something peaceful about the way he looked, a stark contrast to the hardened exterior he presented to the world.

a tender smile tugged at your lips as you leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. he stirred slightly but didn’t wake, his arms tightening around you for just a moment before relaxing again. you carefully extricated yourself from his embrace, not wanting to disturb him, and quietly slipped out of bed. as you dressed in your usual training gear, you couldn’t help but glance back at him, still sleeping soundly, and a warmth spread through your chest at the sight. you didn’t know what the day would bring, but at least for now, you felt a sense of contentment that had been absent from your life for far too long.

the training room was nearly deserted when you arrived, the early hour ensuring you were alone. you welcomed the solitude, the chance to clear your mind before the day began in earnest. the familiar sound of your fists connecting with the heavy bag echoed in the otherwise silent room, the repetitive motion calming you, giving you something tangible to focus on.

but as you trained, your mind drifted back to the previous night, to the feel of jungkook’s lips on yours, the way he held you like you were the only thing that mattered. a shiver ran down your spine at the memory, and you couldn’t help but wonder what would happen next. would things change between you? would it complicate your already dangerous situation? you shook your head, trying to push those thoughts away. there was no point in worrying about the future when you could barely manage the present.

your focus was broken by the sound of the door to the training room opening. you glanced over your shoulder to see a girl, probably more than a couple definite years younger than you, hesitantly stepping inside. she looked almost out of place there, her small frame and nervous demeanor starkly contrasting with the rough men you usually saw training. her eyes darted around the room, as if she were expecting trouble, and when they landed on the punching bag, she seemed to steel herself.

your heart sank as you watched her approach the bag, her movements awkward and unsure. ahe threw a punch, but it was weak, barely making the bag sway. laughter erupted from a group of men watching her from the corner, their mockery harsh and biting. the girl flinched, her face flushing with embarrassment as she tried again, her fists connecting with the bag in a feeble attempt at self-defense.

you couldn’t just stand by and watch her struggle. something inside you stirred—maybe it was a protective instinct, or maybe it was just the memory of being in her shoes once, but you found yourself walking over to her, ignoring the jeers from the men. as you approached, she looked up at you with wide eyes, surprise evident in her expression.

“you’re holding your stance all wrong,” you said gently, stepping up beside her. she looked at you, her brow furrowing in confusion, but you offered her a reassuring smile. “here, let me show you.”

you placed your hands on her shoulders, adjusting her posture, guiding her to position her feet correctly. she was tense under your touch, her nervousness palpable, but she didn’t pull away. you showed her how to properly throw a punch, how to put her weight behind it, how to channel her strength into each movement. as she tried again, this time with your guidance, the punch was more solid, the bag swaying slightly with the force of it.

“there you go,” you encouraged, stepping back to give her space. she tried again, and this time the punch was even stronger, more confident. the laughter from the men faded as they realized she was improving, and you couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride in her determination.

the girl looked up at you, a small, tentative smile on her face, and your heart ached at the sight. she was so young, so innocent in some ways, and yet here she was, trying to survive in a world that would chew her up and spit her out without a second thought. you couldn’t help but wonder how someone like her had ended up in a place like this.

“thank you,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. you nodded, returning her smile. “keep practicing,” you told her, your tone encouraging. “you’ll get the hang of it.” she nodded, her smile growing a little more confident, and you turned to head toward the locker room. but as you reached the door, her voice stopped you in your tracks.

“i never thought i’d find you.”

you froze, your hand hovering over the doorknob. slowly, you turned back to face her, confusion and disbelief warring within you. “what are you talking about?” you asked, your voice shaky, uncertain.

she took a hesitant step toward you, her eyes wide with something you couldn’t quite place—hope, maybe? “mom and dad, they told me i had a sister. but i never got to see what kind of life you had.”

the world tilted on its axis, and you felt as if the ground had just been ripped out from under you. a sister? you had a sister? your mind raced, trying to make sense of her words, but it was as if your thoughts were stuck in quicksand, the more you tried to grasp them, the more they slipped away. you had never known you had a sister—let alone one who had been raised in this underground world.

you were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t even realize your hand had slipped off the doorknob until you heard the sound of glass shattering. you looked down in a daze, seeing the shards of the glass you had dropped scattered across the floor. but the glass wasn’t what held your attention—it was the way your hands were trembling, the way your heart was racing in your chest, the sheer disbelief and confusion that had taken hold of you.

the girl took another step closer, her eyes filled with a mixture of hope and fear. “(y/n) (l/n),” she said quietly, and your heart dropped into your stomach. you sank to your knees, the weight of her words pressing down on you, leaving you breathless.

she was your sister. she had to be. there was no other explanation for the way your name had fallen from her lips, no other reason why she would be looking at you with such hope, such familiarity. but it didn’t make sense—it couldn’t make sense. you had been alone your whole life, always fighting to survive, never knowing you had someone out there, someone who was a part of you. you didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to process what you were feeling. all you could do was look at her, at the beautiful, young girl standing before you, at the innocence that had been so clearly marred by the darkness of this world. she looked at you with tears in her eyes, but instead of speaking, she closed the distance between you and pulled you into a hug.

the warmth of her embrace was foreign, yet strangely comforting. you felt the tears begin to blur your vision as she held you, her grip tight as if she was afraid to let go. you wanted to speak, to say something, anything, but the words wouldn’t come. all you could do was hold onto her, the weight of this revelation pressing down on you, threatening to crush you.

“i’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice breaking as the tears streamed down your face. “i’m so sorry.” she didn’t say anything, just held you tighter, her own tears soaking into your shirt. you could feel the raw emotion in her touch, the desperation, the need for connection that mirrored your own. it was overwhelming, this sudden discovery of a sister you never knew you had, this realization that you weren’t as alone in the world as you had always believed.

the days that followed your discovery were a whirlwind of emotions, each one more intense than the last. it felt surreal to wake up every morning knowing that the girl who had stumbled into your life was your sister, that the person you had unknowingly searched for all these years had been right under your nose, confined to the same underground world that you had infiltrated. eunha, she called herself—her real name, a name that felt strange on your tongue, yet familiar in a way you couldn’t quite explain. there was something about her presence that felt like home, like a piece of you that had been missing was finally found.

the first few days were spent mostly in the training room, away from prying eyes. you found yourself drawn to her, spending every free moment getting to know her, piecing together the fragments of a life you had never known existed.

“i’ve never seen the outside world,” she confessed one day, her voice tinged with a sadness that made your heart ache. the two of you sat side by side on the floor of the training room, your backs against the wall, your shoulders almost touching. she was picking at the frayed edge of her worn-out shoes, her eyes downcast, as if ashamed to admit such a thing. “i’ve only heard about it, in stories, from people who come and go. but i’ve never been out there.”

the weight of her words hit you like a punch to the gut. you had always taken the outside world for granted—the sun, the sky, the fresh air, all the little things that made life worth living. to think that your sister had been deprived of all that, trapped in this suffocating underground existence, filled you with a deep sense of regret.

“they kept me here,” she continued, her voice trembling slightly. “mom and dad, they said it was for my safety, that the outside world was too dangerous, that people like us. we wouldn’t survive out there. i believed them because i didn’t know any better. i grew up knowing only this place, these people, and the stories of a sister i thought i’d never meet.”

her words wrapped around your heart, squeezing it with a pain you hadn’t expected. you had always known your parents were involved in something dark, but to think that they had kept her here, isolated, fed her lies about the world beyond these walls. it made your blood boil. “eunha,” you began, your voice thick with emotion, but she shook her head, cutting you off.

“i go by eunha here, but it’s not just a name,” she said, looking up at you with those wide, innocent eyes that held a world of pain behind them. “it’s who i am in this place. it’s all i’ve ever known. but now that i’ve met you, i don’t know who i’m supposed to be anymore.”

you reached out, placing a hand on her shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “you don’t have to be anyone but yourself,” you told her gently. “we’ll figure it out together.” there was a moment of silence between you, the weight of her words settling over you both like a heavy blanket. she seemed to gather herself before speaking again, her tone more resolved, though still tinged with uncertainty.

“and you, who are you?” she asked, her gaze searching yours. “i mean, i know you’re my sister, but you’re different from everyone else here. you don’t belong here, do you?”

you sighed, knowing you couldn’t lie to her. not now. “i’m undercover,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “my real name isn’t lee rachel. i’m a cop, eunha. i’m here to take this place down from the inside.” her eyes widened in shock, and for a moment, you feared she might recoil from you, that she might see you as the enemy. but instead, she looked at you with something like awe, mixed with a hint of fear.

“a cop,” she repeated, as if trying to wrap her mind around it. “so everything, everything you’ve been doing here,”

“is to gather information,” you confirmed. “to find a way to shut this place down for good. but i never imagined i’d find you here, eunha. i never knew—god, i never knew.” she was silent for a long moment, absorbing everything you’d told her. then, to your surprise, she leaned in, resting her head on your shoulder. “i’m glad it’s you,” she murmured, her voice soft but steady. “i’m glad i found you.”

you felt a lump form in your throat, and you swallowed hard, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over. “i’m glad i found you too,” you whispered, your voice trembling with the weight of your emotions. for the first time in years, you felt a bond, a connection, that went beyond anything you’d ever known. eunha was your sister, your blood, and you felt a fierce need to protect her, to make up for all the lost time, to somehow give her the life she had been denied.

“i won’t tell anyone,” she promised, her voice firm, her eyes shining with determination. “i won’t say a word about who you really are. you can trust me, (y/n).”

“i know,” you said, giving her a small, grateful smile. “i trust you.”

in the days that followed, you introduced her to jungkook. his initial reaction was one of shock, his dark eyes widening as he processed the news. “you have a sister?” he had asked, his voice a mix of surprise and disbelief. “how, how did you not know?”

“it’s a long story,” you had replied, glancing at eunha, who stood quietly by your side. “but she’s here now, and that’s what matters.” jungkook’s gaze had shifted to her, studying her with a mixture of curiosity and caution. you could see the wheels turning in his head, the way he was trying to assess whether she could be trusted, whether she posed a threat to your mission. he was protective, not just of you, but of the operation, and you couldn’t blame him for being wary.

but eunha, in her gentle way, had slowly begun to win him over. it wasn’t easy—jungkook was naturally suspicious of anyone new, especially someone with ties to the underground world. but she was persistent, always polite, always kind, and over time, you could see the way his defenses began to crumble.

one evening, as the three of you sat together in the small kitchen of your shared hideout, eunha had looked at jungkook with a mischievous glint in her eye. “you know,” she had said, her tone light, “i’ve never had a brother-in-law before.”

jungkook had nearly choked on his drink, his eyes going wide with surprise. “brother-in-law?” he had repeated, his voice incredulous. she had nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. “you’re with my sister, right? that makes you my brother-in-law.”

you had watched as jungkook’s expression softened, a rare smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. it was a simple statement, but it meant more than eunha could have known. it was an acceptance, a sign that she was beginning to find her place in your strange little family. jungkook had looked at you then, and the warmth in his gaze had made your heart skip a beat. “brother-in-law, huh?” he had said, his voice teasing. “i could get used to that.”

you had smiled back at him, feeling a swell of emotion in your chest. in that moment, you realized just how much had changed since eunha had come into your life. you weren’t alone anymore, and neither was she. you had each other, and now you had jungkook too. as the days passed, the three of you grew closer, your little makeshift family becoming something solid, something real. there were still challenges ahead, still dangers lurking around every corner, but for the first time, you felt like you could face them together. you had found your sister, and in doing so, you had found a piece of yourself that you hadn’t even known was missing.

and as you sat with eunha one night, listening to her talk about her dreams of seeing the outside world, of finally living the life she had always imagined, you knew that you would do whatever it took to make that dream a reality. you would protect her, you would keep her safe, and you would ensure that she never had to face the darkness of this world alone. because she was your sister, and you were hers. and nothing, not even the shadows that threatened to engulf you both, could ever change that.

the day of the annual dinner arrived far too quickly for your liking. the boss had called everyone in, demanding a full attendance for a formal gathering that evening, and you knew there was no way to avoid it. the fact that you had to keep eunha’s true identity a secret gnawed at you relentlessly, eating away at your resolve. you had only just found her, only just begun to know her, and already, you were forced to hide the bond that connected you. It felt wrong—like a betrayal of everything you wanted to protect. but your cover had to be maintained, even if it meant stifling the fierce protective instinct that had risen within you.

as you stood in front of the mirror, your mind was heavy with the weight of the secrets you bore. you were clad in an elegant, form-fitting dress that clung to your curves in all the right places, the deep shade of midnight blue contrasting beautifully against your skin. the dress was more formal than your usual attire, a clear reminder of the precarious balance you walked between two worlds. your hands trembled slightly as you adjusted the straps, trying to push aside the unease that churned in your stomach.

jungkook stood beside you, his reflection in the mirror providing a momentary distraction from the storm of thoughts in your head. he looked impeccable in his tailored black suit, the lines sharp and precise, exuding an air of authority and confidence that only he could pull off with such effortless grace. his dark hair was slicked back, highlighting the strong angles of his face, and his eyes were locked on you, an appreciative smile playing on his lips.

“absolutely stunning,” he murmured, his voice soft and filled with admiration. his eyes roamed over you, taking in every detail, and you felt a blush creep up your neck, warming your cheeks. you managed a small smile, meeting his gaze in the mirror. “you’re just saying that because you have to,” you teased, though the way he looked at you made your heart flutter in a way that no words could adequately describe.

“not even close,” he replied, stepping closer, his hand coming to rest on your waist. he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. “you’re breathtaking, (y/n).”

before you could respond, there was a soft knock on the door, and you turned to see eunha standing in the doorway, her wide eyes filled with awe. she looked so innocent, so untouched by the world’s cruelty, and the sight made your heart twist painfully. she was dressed in an adorable white dress, the fabric flowing around her like a cloud, making her look even more ethereal than she already was. the dress was simple, but it suited her perfectly, highlighting her natural beauty in a way that made your breath catch.

“you look gorgeous,” you whispered, the words slipping from your lips before you could stop them. it was true—she was beautiful, radiating a kind of purity that you hadn’t seen in so long, not in a place like this. eunha’s cheeks flushed a delicate shade of pink, and she gave you a shy smile, her fingers twisting together nervously. “i was gonnq say the same about you,” she admitted, her voice soft, almost hesitant, as if she were afraid to speak the words aloud.

you couldn’t help but smile, feeling a rush of affection for the girl standing before you. she was still so young, so untainted by the darkness that surrounded you both. she had been kept hidden away for so long, but now that she was here, you wanted to protect that innocence, to keep her safe from the harsh realities of the world she had been thrust into.

“come here,” you said, holding out your hand to her. she hesitated for a moment before stepping into the room, her small hand slipping into yours. you pulled her into a gentle hug, feeling the warmth of her body against yours, and the sensation filled you with a fierce determination to keep her safe, no matter what.

“would you like me to do your makeup?” you asked, pulling back slightly to look into her eyes. the question was light, almost playful, and you watched as her face lit up with excitement, her eyes sparkling with a joy that made your heart churn. “really?” she asked, her voice filled with a mixture of hope and disbelief, as if she couldn’t quite believe that you were offering her something so simple, yet so meaningful.

“of course,” you said with a smile. “you’re beautiful as you are, but a little makeup might make you feel even more special.” eunha nodded eagerly, and you guided her to sit at the small vanity in the corner of the room. as you began to carefully apply the makeup, you kept it simple—just a touch of concealer to even out her skin tone, a light dusting of blush to bring out the natural flush in her cheeks, and a hint of mascara to define her long lashes. you didn’t want to overwhelm her, but you could see the way her eyes shone with happiness as you worked, the way she held herself a little taller, a little more confident.

when you were finished, you stepped back to admire your work, and you felt a surge of pride as you looked at her. she was stunning, and not just because of the makeup—she had a natural beauty that radiated from within, a light that hadn’t been dimmed despite everything she had been through. “you look even prettier than me,” you told her, your voice filled with genuine admiration.

she blushed again, but there was a glow in her eyes, a happiness that you knew was rare in this place. “thank you,” she whispered, her voice filled with gratitude. “i’ve never felt like this before.” you leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “you deserve to feel beautiful,” you said softly. “because you are.”

she gave you a shy smile before she excused herself, her steps light as she left the room. you watched her go, your heart swelling with affection and a fierce protectiveness that you hadn’t felt in a long time. as the door closed behind her, you turned back to jungkook, who had been watching the entire exchange with a soft smile on his lips. there was something in his eyes that made your heart skip a beat, a warmth and tenderness that made you feel as though you were the only person in the world.

“you’re gonna be an amazing mom one day,” he said, his voice low and filled with a kind of quiet certainty that made your breath catch in your throat. the words hit you like a gentle wave, washing over you with a warmth that made your chest tighten with emotion. you hadn’t thought about it much before, about what the future might hold for you and jungkook, but hearing him say those words, seeing the sincerity in his eyes, made something inside you click into place.

you stepped closer to him, wrapping your arms around his neck as you looked up at him, your eyes searching his for any hint of doubt. “is that a promise?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, your heart pounding in your chest. he didn’t hesitate, his hands coming to rest on your waist as he leaned down, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, lingering kiss. when he pulled back, his eyes were filled with a warmth that made your heart flutter. “it just might be,” he murmured, his voice filled with a kind of quiet promise that made you believe, for the first time in a long time, that maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay.

the dining room was dimly lit, the heavy wooden table stretching out before you like a dark, endless expanse. thirteen chairs were arranged around it, and each one was filled with a familiar face. eunha sat to your right, her hands folded neatly in her lap, a serene expression on her face that did nothing to betray the turmoil you knew she had endured. jungkook was on your left, his presence a steady anchor in the chaos that surrounded you. across from you sat the boss, his cold, calculating eyes surveying the room with the indifference of a man who had seen far too much, done far too much, to be moved by anything.

to your horror, the man who had tried to violate you was seated just a few spots down the table, his gaze fixed firmly on the plate in front of him, as if avoiding eye contact with you could somehow erase the memory of what he had done. the mere sight of him made your skin crawl, a visceral reminder of the danger that lurked within these walls.

you felt jungkook’s hand slip beneath the tablecloth, seeking yours. his fingers found yours, intertwining with a warmth that steadied your nerves. he gave your hand a reassuring squeeze, a silent message that he was with you, that he would protect you. you squeezed back, grateful for his strength, for the way he could calm the storm inside you with just a touch.

the clinking of silverware ceased as the boss cleared his throat, drawing the room’s attention. the silence that followed was suffocating, heavy with anticipation. he leaned forward slightly, his sharp eyes settling on jungkook. “i heard there was a mishap in the locker room earlier,” he began, his voice deceptively calm. there was a pause as his gaze bore into jungkook, the tension thickening in the air. “where do you get off beating my men?”

the question hung in the air, cold and accusatory, and your heart skipped a beat. jungkook’s hand tightened around yours, but his expression remained composed. he met the boss’s gaze head-on, unflinching. “i wouldn’t have done it,” he began, his voice steady, “if i hadn’t caught him trying to assault her.” he didn’t need to specify who “her” was—everyone knew. his words hung in the air like a sharp blade, slicing through the tension.

jungkook turned his head slightly, his eyes narrowing as they fixed on the man who had hurt you. the man cowered, his head bowed in shame, his entire body trembling. he was a coward, stripped of his bravado in the face of the truth. your heart pounded in your chest as the memory of that day flashed before your eyes. you felt jungkook’s thumb stroke the back of your hand, a small, comforting gesture that helped keep your fear at bay. but there was no comfort to be found in the boss’s cold, calculating gaze as he turned his attention to the man in question.

“is that so?” the boss asked, his voice chillingly even. the man didn’t answer. he couldn’t. his silence spoke volumes, a silent admission of guilt that echoed in the stillness of the room.

the boss sighed, a sound that was more weary than anything else. then, in one fluid motion, he reached beneath his jacket and pulled out a pistol. the sound of the safety clicking off was deafening in the silence, and before anyone could react, he raised the gun and fired. the bullet struck the man square in the forehead, the crack of the gunshot reverberating through the room like a thunderclap. blood sprayed against the wall behind him as his body slumped forward onto the table, lifeless. and then, there were twelve.

you gasped, the air leaving your lungs in a rush as the reality of what had just happened hit you. the room was suddenly too quiet, the silence suffocating. the shock rippled through you like a cold wave, numbing your senses, freezing you in place. you turned to look at jungkook, and the sheer horror in his eyes mirrored your own. the two of you were caught in a shared nightmare, one that you couldn’t wake up from, no matter how much you wanted to.

the boss calmly holstered his gun, as if he had just dealt with a minor inconvenience rather than taken a life. “why didn’t you just say so?” he asked, his tone almost conversational, as if the murder that had just taken place was nothing more than a routine matter.

you were mortified, but what terrified you even more was the lack of reaction from eunha. she hadn’t flinched, hadn’t gasped, hadn’t even blinked. her face was a mask of emotionless calm, as if she had witnessed this kind of thing a hundred times before and it no longer fazed her. it was a stark contrast to the horror you and jungkook felt, and it sent a chill down your spine. how much had she seen? how much had she endured to become so numb?

the boss nodded to eunha, and without hesitation, she stood and began to pass around twelve wine glasses, moving with a practiced grace that belied her youth. she placed a glass in front of each person, her movements smooth and precise, her expression serene, as if she were simply going through the motions of a task she had performed countless times before. as she reached you, you couldn’t help but notice the way her hands didn’t tremble, the way her eyes remained dull, devoid of any real emotion. she was a ghost of the girl she should have been, and the realization made your heart ache in a way you hadn’t expected. how had she survived in this world for so long, and how had it changed her? she then passed around a basket of bread, followed by a bottle of wine, filling each glass with a measured amount. when she was done, she returned to her seat, her face as impassive as ever.

the boss raised his glass, and the rest of you followed suit, though your hands felt heavy as lead, your movements mechanical. “tomorrow night,” he began, “there will be a heist. it’s a big one, and there’s a good chance it’ll end in a shootout with a rival gang. i need all of you at your best, focused, and ready to do whatever it takes to come out on top.”

you listened to his words, but your mind was elsewhere, trapped in the image of the man’s lifeless body slumped over the table, the blood still dripping onto the floor. this was the world you were in now, a world where life was cheap, and death was just another part of the business. you didn’t need to say anything to jungkook; the look you shared was enough. this was a warning, a grim reminder of the stakes you were playing with, that there was no turning back.

the next day dawned slowly, the pale light of morning seeping through the cracks in the heavy curtains like a hesitant promise. you awoke in jungkook’s arms, his warmth a comforting presence beside you. the memories of the previous night clung to your thoughts like a dark fog, but as you lay there in the quiet of the morning, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing, you felt a small, flickering spark of hope. he was here. you weren’t alone.

he stirred beside you, his eyes fluttering open as he sensed your wakefulness. he gave you a sleepy smile, the kind that always seemed to reach the very corners of his eyes, and you felt a faint tug at your heart. it was incredible how he could make you feel safe, even when the world around you seemed to be falling apart. “morning,” he murmured, his voice still husky from sleep. he reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face, his touch gentle. “how are you feeling?”

you hesitated, the question hanging in the air between you. how were you supposed to feel? the image of the man’s lifeless body from last night still haunted your thoughts, a gruesome reminder of the world you were trapped in. but when you looked into jungkook’s eyes, you saw something else—strength, determination, and a flicker of hope that had been missing for too long. “i’m okay,” you finally replied, your voice quiet but steady. “i’m just trying to wrap my head around everything.”

he nodded, understanding in his gaze. “i know it’s a lot,” he said softly, “but try to look on the bright side. you have me, and you have eunha. tonight, it’ll all be over, and we can get out of this mess for good.” he pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you in a protective embrace. the feeling of his chest rising and falling beneath you, the steady beat of his heart, it grounded you. it reminded you of what you were fighting for. this wasn’t just about taking down a criminal organization; it was about securing a future for you, for jungkook, and for eunha. a future where she could be free, where you could show her the world beyond these dark walls.

“i can’t wait to show her the outside world,” you whispered, your thoughts drifting to your sister. “she’s been trapped here for so long, she deserves to see everything she’s missed.” jungkook’s hand found yours, squeezing it gently. “she will,” he promised, his voice full of conviction. “we’ll show her everything. qnd we’ll do it together.”

the day stretched out before you, a long, quiet expanse of time that felt strangely calm. jungkook stayed by your side, his presence a constant source of reassurance. he made sure you ate, even though your appetite was nearly nonexistent, and he kept the conversation light, steering you away from the darker thoughts that threatened to consume you.

you spent hours talking about the future, about the life you could build once this was all over. jungkook painted pictures of a life filled with simple joys—waking up to the sound of birds outside your window, spending lazy afternoons exploring the city with eunha, and quiet evenings curled up on the couch with him, watching movies or just talking about your day. it was a dream, but it was one you clung to with all your might, letting it fuel the fire that kept you going.

as the day wore on, the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the room. you found yourself staring out the window, watching as the light slowly faded, the promise of nightfall inching closer. tonight was the night. the thought sent a shiver down your spine, a mix of anticipation and fear knotting in your stomach.

jungkook noticed, his hand finding yours once again. “hey,” he said softly, his voice a gentle anchor in the sea of your turbulent thoughts. “we’ve got this. we’ll all be in the same spot, and the rest of our team will be there to cover our backs. just a few more hours, and then, we’re free.” you nodded, trying to absorb the confidence in his words, to let it steady your nerves. the idea of freedom, of living a life with him, it was almost too much to hope for. but it was all you had, and you weren’t about to let go of it.

“i’m just worried,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “what if something goes wrong?” jungkook cupped your face in his hands, forcing you to meet his gaze. “nothing’s gonna go wrong,” he said firmly. “we’ve planned for this, we’ve trained for this, and we’re ready. you’re ready.”

his words were like a lifeline, something to hold onto as you navigated the treacherous waters ahead. you took a deep breath, nodding slowly. “okay,” you murmured, leaning into his touch. “i trust you.” a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “good,” he said, his voice softening. “because i trust you too. and after tonight, we’ll finally have the life we’ve been dreaming of.” you spent the rest of the afternoon in a sort of quiet companionship, the two of you moving through the motions of the day as if in a trance. there was an unspoken understanding between you—a shared sense of purpose that kept you both grounded, even as the weight of what was to come pressed down on you.

the night had a suffocating air, thick with tension that clung to every breath you took. the warehouse where the showdown was set to occur loomed ahead like a dark, foreboding fortress, its looming shadows melding into the blackness of the night. dim light spilled through the cracks in the metal walls, casting eerie shapes on the ground. the gravel crunched beneath your boots as you approached, the sound barely audible over the distant hum of the city that was unaware of the impending bloodshed.

jungkook was at your side, his presence a mixture of comfort and concern. he walked with a tense calm, his hand subtly brushing against yours with every step. his gaze darted around, always vigilant, yet there was a softness in his eyes when they settled on you. “tonight’s the night,” he whispered, more to himself than to you. “we’ll get through this, and after that, we’ll be free. you, me, and eunha. we’ll show her the world.”

his words were meant to reassure, but you couldn’t shake the weight pressing down on your chest. the future he painted sounded like a dream—one that you so desperately wanted to hold onto, but the reality of the night made it feel like it was slipping through your fingers. you glanced up at him, your thoughts heavy with the unspoken fears that swirled in your mind. “jungkook,” you began, your voice barely above a whisper. “if we don't make it out—”

but he cut you off, his tone firm, almost commanding. “we will make it out.” he stopped walking and turned to face you, his hand gently gripping your arm. there was a fire in his eyes, one that burned with determination. “but i love you more. more than anything else in this world.”

before you could respond, the sudden, sharp sound of gunfire shattered the silence. the air erupted with chaos—screams, the sound of bullets tearing through the night, the desperate shouts of men fighting for survival. the world around you became a blur of movement and noise, the lines between friend and foe blurring in the chaos.

jungkook moved with swift precision, his gun raised as he shot at the figures that darted through the shadows. you followed close behind, your heart pounding in your chest. every sense was heightened, every movement critical as you ducked and weaved through the barrage of bullets.

out of the corner of your eye, you saw a figure move toward you with a gun aimed directly at your head. time slowed for a split second, and your breath caught in your throat. but before you could react, a deafening shot rang out, and the man crumpled to the ground, lifeless. you turned to see jungkook, his gun still smoking, his eyes wide with the intensity of the moment. “thank you,” you managed to say, your voice trembling with relief and gratitude. he nodded, a brief smile flickering across his lips before he motioned for you to move. the two of you ducked behind a stack of crates, your backs pressed against the cold metal as you caught your breath.

just then, out of the smoke and chaos, a small figure came running toward you—eunha. her eyes were wide with fear, her small frame trembling as she reached you. the sight of her sent a jolt of panic through your veins. “eunha,” you hissed, pulling her close. “what are you doing here? it's not safe, you have to go.”

but her eyes were filled with tears, and she shook her head violently. “no, you have to go. please, you have to leave now.” the urgency in her voice was unlike anything you'd ever heard before. "what? why?" your mind raced with confusion and fear, trying to make sense of her words.

through her sobs, eunha’s voice cracked as she confessed, “i told the boss about you. i didn’t mean to—i was excited about seeing you, and it slipped. i was afraid, i didn’t know what to do, and i told him everything. you have to leave before he gets to you.”

the betrayal hit you like a punch to the gut, the shock so overwhelming that it took you a moment to process what she was saying. you felt jungkook stiffen beside you, the disbelief and hurt clear in his eyes. but there was no time to dwell on it—sirens wailed in the distance, growing louder with each passing second, signaling the arrival of the authorities.

“stay here,” you told her, your voice a mix of urgency and fear. you peered around the crates to see a swarm of officers descending upon the scene, led by hoseok. relief flooded through you despite the chaos; the sight of him meant that the nightmare might finally end. jungkook's grip on your hand tightened as he offered you a strained smile. the disbelief and betrayal were still evident in his eyes, but there was also a flicker of hope. “it’s almost over,” he whispered, more to himself than to you.

the rival members, realizing they were outmatched, began to scatter. the officers moved in, detaining anyone they could get their hands on. in the midst of it all, you saw the boss—your boss—being dragged away by hoseok, thrashing against his grip. but then, something changed. the boss’s eyes found yours, locking onto you with a look so dark, so filled with malevolence, that it made your blood run cold.

before you could react, he pushed hoseok off with a sudden burst of strength, grabbing the officer’s gun in one swift motion. the gunshot rang out, splitting the air with a deafening crack. your heart stopped, and for a moment, time stood still. but the pain never came. you looked down at yourself in disbelief—no blood, no wound. then you saw her.

eunha stood beside you, her eyes wide with shock and pain as blood bloomed across her chest like a crimson flower. the world crashed down around you as she dropped to the ground, the life draining from her eyes even before her body hit the earth.

“no!” the scream tore from your throat as you dropped to your knees beside her, jungkook following suit, his own voice choked with horror. you grabbed eunha’s hand, feeling the warmth slipping away as she struggled to breathe. “hold on,” you pleaded, your voice breaking. “help is here, just hold on.”

but all she could do was smile through the pain, her grip on your hands weakening with each passing second. “i’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, a tear slipping down her cheek.

her eyes fluttered as she forced out her final words, her voice a fragile whisper that broke your heart into pieces. “thank you, for showing me the outside world.” and then her hand went limp, her eyes closed, and the world went black. the moment her hand fell limp, a visceral, gut-wrenching scream tore from your throat, echoing through the warehouse with a sound of raw, unbridled grief. the world around you seemed to collapse into a nightmarish haze of flashing lights and distant voices. jungkook’s face, though painted with his own shock and horror, was the only constant in this maelstrom.

you crumpled beside her lifeless form, your fingers still clutching her cold, bloodstained hand. the world blurred into a mix of red and black as your vision swam with tears. the sirens, once a distant wail of hope, now sounded like the cruel harbingers of your loss. wach breath you took was ragged, tearing at your chest with an intensity that felt like it would rip you apart from the inside out.

jungkook wrapped his arms around you, his hold both firm and tender as he tried to pull you away from the scene. his own sobs were muffled against your shoulder, his voice a low, desperate murmur in your ear. “don’t look,” he choked out, his words straining to break through the tears. “please, don’t look.”

but you couldn’t stop. you couldn’t look away from eunha’s body being gently lifted onto a stretcher, the cold, clinical efficiency of the officers contrasting brutally with the warmth and life that had been snuffed out so cruelly. your sobs grew louder, mingling with jungkook’s as the reality of the situation sank in. you thrashed in his arms, your body wracked with grief, your mind screaming in denial and pain.

hoseok, his face a mask of concern and sympathy, rushed to your side. his presence was a small comfort amidst the chaos, but his words felt hollow against the backdrop of your overwhelming anguish. “it’s okay,” he said, trying to soothe you with a voice full of empathy. “it’s all over. it’s gonna be alright.”

but it wasn’t okay. it wasn’t over. the weight of loss was crushing, and no amount of reassurances could lift it from your heart. you continued to sob, your body shaking uncontrollably as jungkook held you close, his own tears soaking into your hair. the world outside seemed to fall away, leaving only the sharp, searing pain of your sister’s death.

the following days were a blur of darkness and sorrow. the funeral was a solemn, heart-wrenching affair, and every moment felt like an eternity of raw, unhealed wounds. jungkook was your steadfast support, his quiet strength a fragile anchor in the storm of your grief.

on the day of eunha’s memorial, the sky was a somber gray, matching the heaviness that settled over you. jungkook walked with you to the cemetery, his presence a balm for your shattered spirit. he, too, felt as if he had lost a child of his own. the cemetery was a quiet, serene place, a stark contrast to the turmoil that had consumed your life. the graves were marked with simple stones and surrounded by patches of manicured grass.

when you reached her grave, jungkook carefully set down a bouquet of fresh, vibrant flowers. his tears flowed freely, mingling with the rain that had begun to fall softly from the sky. he stood beside you, his arm wrapped protectively around your shoulders as he kissed your forehead. his touch was gentle, but it held a depth of emotion that spoke of his own suffering and solidarity with your pain.

you knelt beside the grave, your heart aching as you stared at the photograph of eunha framed by the flowers. the sadness that had been your constant companion now seemed to reach a new, unbearable depth. you reached into your pocket and pulled out the medal you had won for the infiltration—the symbol of a world that had taken so much from you.

with trembling hands, you placed the medal beside eunha’s photograph. it felt like a cruel irony—a symbol of your accomplishments in a world that had ultimately failed to protect her. you whispered a final goodbye, tears streaming down your face as you wished her peace in a place far removed from the cruelty of the underground. jungkook watched you with a profound sadness in his eyes. his own tears were a testament to the love and loss he felt for eunha, and the comfort he tried to offer you was an echo of the pain that mirrored your own. he held you close, the warmth of his embrace a small solace in the bitter chill of your grief.

as you stood together, gazing at the grave, you found some small measure of comfort in the thought that eunha was now in a place far better than the harsh world she had known. her spirit was free from the shadows that had plagued her life, and the hope that she was exploring something far more beautiful than the outside world, gave you a tiny glimmer of solace in the midst of your overwhelming sorrow.

✧.*

a/n: lowkey my name except pildo survives