LETSGOOO YALL BETTER READ HER FIRST EVER FIC. Taehyung IS Hawt In This

LETSGOOO Y’ALL BETTER READ HER FIRST EVER FIC. Taehyung IS hawt in this 😮‍💨

—Twisted Alliance

Pairing: Taehyung x reader.

Genre: enemies with benefits au, assassin au, smut.

Warning: mentions of knife, knife play, nipple play, tiny bit mention of blood, oral sex (f receiving), dacryphilia if you squint, sex on car’s bonnet.

Word count: 6k+

♫: Drive you insane- Daniel Di Angelo, Fetish- Selena Gomez, Yad- Vanna Rainelle (English cover), Or nah- Somo.

AN: It took me a long arse time to write this, like way too long but I’m kinda satisfied with the outcome so whatever. Also, thanks to @kthyg for proofreading and helping me out as always, I can’t thank you enough <33 Let me know your thoughts on this.

The car gradually comes to a stop. The roaring engine suddenly went quiet, which gave way to the voice of the men sitting beside you in the driver’s seat. 

“Are you sure he’ll be there? You know Boss will flip if you go back with nothing to show.” Woozi glances shortly at you before moving his eyes back to the red light. The seconds shown above are going slower than your heart’s thump.

46..

Thump

Thump

Thump

45..

Thump 

Thump

44..

Thump

Thump

Thump

Thump

‘Are you sure?’ Are you? Are you sure he’ll be there? Yes.

Are you sure you’ll meet him? Yes.

Are you sure you’ll go back with nothing to show?

Yes.

You feel your partner glancing back at you, surely analysing you. Your silence, your hands, even your damn sweat. Why is there sweat? Where is it going? Why there and not here? Because that’s what he always does. Always analysing, always on alert. At least since you joined this branch.

You put your hands on your lap, one on another, and raise your gaze. Looking straight ahead, you respond to him, “He’ll be there.” He stops drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. That piqued his interest. “And you don’t have to worry about answering to your boss, Woozi. I’ll deal with that.”

“Worry? I’m merely giving you a heads up,” his gaze falls on your hands that are resting on your lap prettily before he directs his eyes back to straight “Boss went through hell of troubles to get through you, to make you move in this branch for this special task. If you fail, he’ll be disappointed.” 

You look at his side profile. All the other car’s lights illuminate his face, sharpening and highlighting his features.

Every now and then, you wonder how he can be over the age of 35.

Woozi is your senior. You have known him since training days as you trained under him. Since you were recruited and placed in different branches, this is the second time you both have talked to each other. First was when you were moved to this branch for a specific task which involved working with him as you both have a past. Per the boss' words, achieving success would become effortless if everyone collaborates. 

He can be intimidating and intense sporadically; however, he’s unparalleled in every endeavour he undertakes. It’s almost admirable how he trained you and a few others while he himself was under training.

“I’ll be disappointed, darling,” he feigns sadness before putting on a smirk. 

Just when you open your mouth to respond, the lights turn green, and the unsettling silence fills up with the roaring of the engine. The car rumbles, and you watch as his left hand shifts the gear to 7, and the car tears through the traffic.

Bastard.

You get out of the car, and Woozi follows to stand beside you, entering the venue together.

The opulence and grandeur are simply breathtaking. The space stretches out before you, with high ceilings adorned with exquisite chandeliers casting a warm, golden glow. The vastness of the venue is overwhelming in itself.

In this realm of luxury, you spot many prestigious people, each one exuding an air of importance and accomplishment. Everyone is engaged in captivating conversations, their laughter and animated gestures resonating through the halls.

From the luxurious furnishings to the exquisite floral arrangements, no expense has been spared in creating an atmosphere of pure grandeur.

“Money speaks, right?” 

The sudden appearance of a faceless voice jolts you to the very essence of your being. When you potently move your gaze from the dripping luxury, the ‘faceless’ voice gets a face, and that, too, is an unpleasing one.

Woozi.

“So, what are you dreaming about?” He delicately swirled his whiskey glass, watching the amber liquid and ice gently spin within. 

Your head tilts in confusion at his question. His questions, remarks, and even words compel your mind to race before speaking. “Dreaming? I was barely admiring.”

“Oh, my bad then, darling.” He leans in. “I thought we were here to look for him and not to admire someone’s stupidity. I dare say, your eyes must have seen more captivating sights than this mere offering.”

He raises his glass and tilts it in your direction before retreating to some corner, mingling in with others. Engaging in casual conversations, even you were contemplating whether he shared a childhood bond or familial ties with any of them. 

Is he even familiar with any of those faces?

You don’t realise how long your stare is pinned on Woozi’s figure until he throws a two-finger salute at you. Your eyes take pleasure in moving them away from his form.

His mere presence can sometimes be infuriating.

However, Woozi isn’t and shouldn’t be the topic of your concerns. You are aware enough to refrain from simply standing like a mere statue, put on display for everyone’s curious gaze. 

As you walk through these elegant surroundings, your eyes scan for your target. The air is filled with murmurs and clinking of glasses, blending harmoniously with the soft melodies played by the live band. Amidst the sea of well-dressed guests, your eyes dart from one face to another, searching for the familiar features that will identify your target.

He is supposed to arrive here even before you. 

“Searching for someone, sweetheart?”

That. That voice.

You had to still yourself by clutching onto the chair that was flushed with velvet. 

Everyone seems to find delight in appearing in front of you from thin air.

His deep oceanic voice reaches you before his hand lightly brushes against your back, and your body suddenly tenses up as if it decided to handle all the world’s stress. Your lungs suddenly need all the oxygen surrounding you. 

His hand is cold in contrast to your body’s burning state. Calm to your chaos? Na-ah.

Ice to your damn burn, and it stings.

You count your breathing before facing him. 1….2…..3…

His long messy hair, always hiding his forehead from everyone as if it’s some princess that is always behind the curtains, they’re now slicked back and styled to perfection. His features look sharper under all the lightning; his jawline is defined. He has a muscular frame, boasting broad shoulders and a trim waistline, all hidden under his black T-shirt. On top of this, he is carrying a leather jacket of a colour similar to wood. 

His eyes, those captivating eyes, are enhanced with glasses, so damn alluring that you had to drag your gaze lower on the mole on his nose and under his lower lip, too – to not get pulled into his hypnotising eyes.

That mocking smile has been lingering on his face since you have known him. Haunting you whenever you meet, whenever he fucks yo—

You don’t even realise for how long you have been focused on his face —specifically, his lips, but let’s keep that hidden— until his smile widens and one eyebrow raises. Did he ask something? What could he even possibly talk about right now? Where is Woozi? Is he watching you talking– no, admiring Taehyung—

“Is my face that interesting? Why don’t you tell me what’s so interesting for you to go deaf so suddenly? Is it my eyes? My smile? Maybe my lip—”

“Do you ever shut up, Kim? You seem to have quite a fondness for self-flattery.”

His eyes pierce into yours from behind those glasses before he flashes a grin, “Oh, she speaks.” 

“I’d prefer not to and the offer only stands for you.”

“Ah, I knew I could count on you for the special treatment. You’re always so sweet for me.” He has his hands over his chest, clearly mocking you, and your face feels on fire because you’re aware of what he’s implying by the sweet.

Well, fuck him. 

If Woozi notices you talking with this fucker then you’re done for. Unlike you, he believes in finishing business as quickly as possible, especially when you have the target right in your hands. However, that’s precisely the point, this guy in front of you is anywhere but in your hands.

He takes two glasses from a passing waiter, and you assume they contain negronis, one for each of you. Swirling his glass gently, he cock his head to the side and darts a glance to his left hand, offering you the glass and then shifting his gaze to your stagnant form. 

After a few seconds of pondering, you decide that drinking one glass won’t pose a risk. Besides, a small amount of alcohol will only reward you with some additional confidence, and you will be delighted to acquire as much as possible.

However, it seems like the heavenly being is displeased with you because you can see Woozi’s side profile from here. He is merely 10 feet away from you, engaged in a conversation for heaven knows how long, yet still manages to throw daggers at you. 

Your fucking luck.

You focus back on the man before you; however, his eyes are narrowed on Woozi for some reason. 

Even in their training days together, Taehyung despised Woozi. You three were together at the time of training, where you and Taehyung were being trained under Woozi. He always put up a rebellion against the old man. His rebellious nature manifested in the form of defiance against Woozi’s authority.

There is one specific instance that stands out vividly in your mind.

On a scorching summer day, you were engaged in an intense outdoor training session as Woozi carefully explained the objectives. As the session commenced, Woozi offered guidance and support; however, Taehyung’s face was contorted with disdain. In a pivotal moment, when Woozi approached you closely to demonstrate a specific technique where he was standing right behind you, adjusting your posture, Taehyung’s simmering frustration erupted. Jaw clenched, he intentionally defied Woozi’s instructions, purposefully deviating from the assigned course. However, unfazed by Taehyung’s eruptions, Woozi continued to mentor you.

They were a complete fiasco.

Fortunately, you all three are placed under different organisations.

Unfortunately, all three organisations are in a strained relationship with each other.

Upon clearing your throat, his head turns back to you, he directs a narrowed gaze towards you, followed by firmly setting his jaw, but then he abruptly breaks into a wide grin. You find yourself in a state of bewilderment, grappling with unanswered questions.

“Well, that’s some interesting news, sweetheart.” His tongue darts out, wetting his lips before he continues, “Never knew you were into Woozi. Are old guys a thing for you now? I mean, it’s understandable considering their experi—”

“You better think twice before finishing that sentence,” you seethe, and before he can respond to your warning, you grip his left wrist that was holding his drink and drag him away from there, away from any little chance of Woozi taking notice.

To say that he was not startled would be an understatement of the highest degree. But then he abruptly halted, pulling you back with him a little.

You turn your gaze towards him, “What? We are yet to get away from the crowd. Why did you pause so unexpectedly?”

He opens his mouth a little, closes it and then his tongue comes out to wet his lips before he begins again, “Oh, excuse me, sweetheart. I wasn’t expecting that.” He moves his stare from your face to your hand, gripping his wrist to his hand, holding his own drink to his T-shirt, which is a tad bit drenched in Negroni now.

Okay, maybe not only a bit.

As you loosen your grip on his wrist, he drops the glass he was holding and extends his hand towards you. His voice drops an octave, “However, don’t let me be of any interruption to you, please carry on.” 

This fucker is clearly enjoying the whole show you’re putting on.

There’s a part of you that wants Woozi to notice you, that wants to put an end to this long-awaited unfinished business. But the other part, a part you’re reluctant to admit, isn’t in favour of putting a full stop to this strange rivalry which, more than half, is filled with desires.

“If I let you become my interruption ever, then do me a favour and hit me.” You glance at him before continuing to drag him away, “Oh, and do it hard, cause I must be out of my rational mind.”

You can’t see his face, but you hear his laugh, and for a few seconds, that’s all your mind is processing. 

You despise how he fucking affects you, how he always gets you in whichever way he prefers.

“I love your sense of humour, sweetheart. Ever thought of being a stand-up comedian? I can see you thriving in that career.”

“I can see you failing in shutting up.”

“Now, where’s the fun in that? You can’t possibly chat alone unless you’re into that.”

You’re still walking— speed walking, and you’re not surprised to find yourself struggling alone, even when you’re the one dragging him. He’s just behind you, appearing to be on a damn morning walk. 

“We can talk all you want when we’re ou—”

“Ah, there you are, darling.”

Woozi. 

He’s right in front of you, his hands inside his pants’ pockets as his eyes fixate on you before moving them to your hand holding Taehyung’s. Narrowing his eyes for just a second, he shifts them back to you, and you can say with guarantee that he’s noting this down in his mansion like a brain. 

At this point, he probably has a separate room— no, a hall, for things he noted down about you.

Nothing about him gives him away. Truthfully, you prefer it that way. However, you just hope he doesn't suspect anything. He might be wondering why you are in hands with Taehyung. Hell, even you’re wondering that. You could’ve simply asked him to walk with you.

As if he would follow you like a puppy. Who are you kidding?

You hear Taehyung clear his throat, making you break the absent-minded eye contact with Woozi, and you’re so thankful for that. You might just spew those two sentences to Kim, but you remind yourself that you're still sane enough to shut your mouth.

“Well, well, look who decided to grace us with their presence after so long.” Woozi gives a sarcastic smile in Taehyung’s direction, and you think  so long for you Woozi, “Good to see you again, Kim.”

Woozi just stands there, a wry smile hanging on his lips as his eyes pin themselves on the man standing behind you. And just like that, even with all the commotion around you, music blasting from speakers all around, people engaged in loud conversations, a strange silence takes its place among you three. For a long while, there is no exchange of words, not from the mouth at least. However, their gazes are engaged in a long-awaited conversation.

You’re suddenly so unbelievably uncomfortable; you’d rather see them brawl with each other than this restless silence. 

To your surprise, Taehyung pulls you back towards him, and you would have crashed into his chest if it wasn’t for his hold on you. 

Fuck these men and your heels.

“Can’t promise I feel mutual. We were just about to head somewhere.” 

“Always a polite talker,” Woozi’s tone is dipped in cynicism. Then he shifts his stare on you, and his sudden change of expressions takes you aback. “May I know where you are heading to, Y/N?” 

Woozi used your name.

You shake your head a little to come back to your senses, “Just ou—”

“Actually, no. You may not know. And I’ll appreciate it if you move out of our way.” Taehyung interrupts.

You wonder what’s wrong with Taehyung so suddenly, but then again, he’s always on edge. Always gets irritated in a short span of time, especially if it’s Woozi; his patience is walking on a thin line.

But then you’re knocked out of the air your lungs are carrying when he hooks his fingers inside the back of the dress. The dress itself is backless. Your back is exposed to your waist already, and now his two fingers are nestled inside your dress.

His fingers inside your dress, his fingers touching your waist, he is touching you.

You see Woozi saying something. You watch his mouth opening and closing and his eyes narrowing at you, but Taehyung’s fingers are touching your waist and oh lord—

A wince makes its way out of your mouth, and that’s when you comprehend that Taehyung fucking pinches you. Hard.

You twist your head swiftly to the back, and he leans in at the same time. Your brain is so foggy at the moment that for a minute, you fail to remember that Woozi is just right there. It’s all because Taehyung is so close to you. Because he has his fingers hooked inside your dress. Because your back is glued to his chest. Because his musk and vetiver scent is the only thing you can breathe in suddenly.

Because it’s Taehyung.

“You’re letting my interruptions distract you, sweetheart.” he whispers, and his warm breath burns the back of your neck; you’re afraid it might leave a scar. “Focus.” 

“Y/N? I asked you something unless you have gone deaf.” Woozi’s stern voice kicks you back to your senses, giving you a harsh reminder that you’re not alone.

Why do you want yourself to be alone with him?

“I’ll be with you in a while Woozi, and besides, you are not babysitting me.”

You watch as Woozi watches you for a few seconds and then opens his mouth to retort, but Taehyung beats him to it, “Well, you heard the lady. See you never again.”

With that being said, Taehyung pushes you forward, and you’re suddenly overcome by the urge to stab his toe’s pinky with your heels. However, you just elbow him lightly, creating a little distance between both of you. Thank you, heavenly beings. You glance back to Woozi as you keep walking, only to find him still standing on his spot. Only now, he’s watching you or, more precisely, shooting daggers at you, and you’re sure one of them will hit you. He raises one eyebrow, and you just blink your eyes at him with a nod before you exit the room completely.

As Taehyung and you continue down the corridor, you glance at his face, and you’d be lying if you said you’re surprised. You can sense the seething anger within him.

However, it’s not your concern. You’ve never quite understood what his issue with Woozi has been all along. Although why is he fuming?

He takes a sharp turn to the right, and you’re promptly reminded that now, you are following him. 

“Where are you heading to?” You speed-walk and try to catch up with his steps as he continues walking, except now, it seems like he increased his speed. Assuming that you’re just struggling would be an insult to you. He takes long strides towards, what you’re assuming, is the exit of the venue.

“Out of here.” He says it with gritted teeth without even casting a glance at you as if he’s talking on some earpiece. Your steps slow down, and he pauses so abruptly in his track; without turning his head, he just stares you down his shoulder before speaking assertively, “And you are following me. Do not even entertain the idea of going back inside.”

What got his knickers in a twist?

Then he exits the venue with you hot on his heels. “What has gotten into you? The fuck are you so mad about?”

You stare at his broad back, and for a few seconds, he stays still before turning around to face you, and you’re going through every possible way you can make him turn back. His one eyebrow is raised mockingly, and his glasses just highlight his glare that is so intense, you might as well look away, but then his lips are twisted into a scowl. A scoff leaves his lips, and everything about him compels you to meditate your mind about whether you asked something stupid.

“I find it hard to believe that you actually came here with him, with Woozi out of all the people there.”

You can’t fucking believe him right now.

“Tell me you aren’t fucking serious cause you’re being unreasonably ridiculous right now.” He’s so damn out of it. “You are showing a significant degree of stupidity.”

You watch as his eyes narrow on you before he starts to close the distance. “Oh, is that so? Am I the one who is being ridiculous here?” He stands in front of you, towering over your figure. “Or maybe you take me as a foolish person.”

“Maybe you’re one,” you cross your arms before clearing your throat. Arguing with him is similar to talking to a wall, “If you’re going to argue with me over some nonsense then I’m going back inside. Maybe you don’t care but time is of essence.”

“You could’ve just mentioned about Woozi last night when you texted or were you that distracted, hm? Who knows where you were when you texted me.”

Your head whips back just when you have taken one step to walk away. You’re suddenly so aware of the small, slender dagger that is fastened to your thigh, it’s burning on your skin, or perhaps your skin is on fire.

When you speak, you feel your words coming out laced with venom, “Perhaps I was with Woozi. Perhaps we were doing something disgraceful.” You clenched your teeth with such force, “You have no authority to make assumptions about me. I will not answer you, and I have no obligation to disclose my whereabouts or provide details. We are not even toge—”

It takes you a few minutes to process what happened. In a sudden, shocking move, Taehyung grabs your neck, his fingers digging into your skin, while swiftly propelling you back towards the wall. As his grip tightens around your neck, a surge of conflicting emotions rushes through you. The fear remains, but there’s also an undeniable undercurrent of something else— desire.

His face comes closer to yours, and the foggy cloud of desire falters for a minute before his low and deep voice reaches you, “Let’s see who will you answer to then, hm? Because in the end, it always turns out to be me. You always answer to me and always beneath me.” The foggy cloud returns, almost blinding you.

In a sudden and unexpected move, he bridges the gap between both of you, his lips crashing onto yours with a fierce intensity. The shock of the gesture sends a jolt of conflicting emotions coursing through you. 

He pushes his tongue inside before pulling back slightly; however, he sinks his teeth into your lower lip with brutal force. As the sick, twisted part of your mind revels in the pleasure, it disregards the relentless screams of your instincts, urging you to resist and push him away. With a renewed intensity, he forcefully presses his lips against yours once more, swallowing your gasps and suppressing your winces.

Your body goes rigid as his other hand reaches behind you, playing with the strings and so dangerously close to opening the knot that’s holding your dress altogether. His hand trails down your backbone before he pushes it further down, and just like that, his hand slips inside the back of your dress, grabbing your arse before he squeezes the flesh harshly, digging his fingernails.

“Ah! Fuck—” A muffled moan slips past your lips which makes you pull away harshly, a string of saliva lingering between both of you. You take in as much air as you can before he invades your personal space again.

Your breaths come out harshly as you struggle to function effectively. The realisation of his hands still on your neck comes back to you, and you are weak in your knees that you might fall to the ground if he were to retrieve his hand back. His fervent breath hits your jawline before he harshly bites down your cheek, causing you to wince loudly at the pain.

 He dips his head near your ear before his rich voice reaches you, “Don’t make me lose my already low morals, sweetheart.” Then your senses come back to life when you feel a cold sensation on your neck. Your knife is pressed against your throat, near enough to make a cut if you are to move even a single inch. Yet you’re an utter goner in his hold; your mind is nothing but a foggy haze of desires, all awakened by this man. You are aware of the risk this situation brings you both, but are you aware enough to give any fucks? He has your knife at your throat. He is dangerously close to your body, and then he drags the knife to your collarbone, his eyes fixed on yours and a shit-eating grin plastered on his face.

His head dips, and he bites harshly on your collarbone as the knife remains there, pressing into your skin. He then licks a long stripe over your collarbone, and your whole body runs cold. It’s too much for you to take, too much to comprehend and make sense of. You can think of nothing unless it involves him, with you, in every bad way. 

You feel him pushing his knee between your legs, and you’re forced to open them for him. His jeans come in contact with your aching core before he presses his knee harder, eliciting a gasp of pleasure past your lips. 

“Taehyung…” His name comes out in a breathy whisper. Your eyes momentarily close before you feel the knife pressing on your cheekbone, his eyes glinting with lust so obviously. The knife provides the cooling sensation to your body that seems to be on a fucking stove. You glance at the small sharp object in his hand before taking a shaky breath, “It’ll leave a scar if you…” The words are trapped in your mouth as his lips find their favourite spot behind your ear before he drags his tongue down to your neckline and breathes in harshly.

Oh, lord.

“I wonder why you had it with you in the first place. Surely not for me, right, sweetheart? You wouldn’t do that to someone whose name you worship every other night now, or will you? Hm?” 

“Woozi… Fuck—” his mouth keeps on assaulting your neck and exposed chest, the intensity rising at the mention of woozi, “He gave it to me.”

His eyes bore into yours for a few seconds before he stopped all his moments abruptly and created enough distance between yours and his upper body so that you could finally breathe and see something else that was not him. He tilts his head, puts the knife under your chin within striking distance of your neck, and moves it upward, mandating you look up into his eyes. 

“Let’s put your knife to the test then and see if it lives up to its reputation.” 

“Fuck, Taehy—ah!” a quivering moan makes its way out of your lips as you struggle to keep yourself balanced on his car’s bonnet. Your hands are entangled in his hair, and he digs his fingertips into your thighs each time you pull on his roots.

His premium Ford Mustang Fastback is probably groaning beneath you. He has you sprawled on his Mustang’s bonnet, his hands holding your thighs up, and he works his mouth on your pussy. His tongue teases your clit before he nibbles on it with the right amount of pressure. Your grip tightens on his hair as your eyes close in pure ecstasy. Your brain melted to a putty as the overwhelming pleasure washes over you. 

A silent cry leaves your lips in an ‘o’ shape when his tongue keeps abusing your sweet spot, not giving you any time to comprehend. Then he pushes two fingers in at once, and you break. He ruins you in unspeakable ways. His fingers plunge in and out of you at a rapid pace, several profanities leaving your mouth as he pays no heed to you. You attempt to close your legs when he takes a few long stripes on your weeping pussy and flattens his tongue on it. Your body jolts upwards, and your breath hitches for over a few seconds.

“Ah– Taehyung… Please…” You feel your throat drying up, an intense cry of pleasure falling from your lips. Your eyes are adorned with fat tears because of the immense pleasure and overstimulation, because of his tactics, because of his fingers grazing your walls and reaching your sweet spot over and over again because he’s digging his fingertips in your flesh harshly as he swirls his tongue over your sensitive bundle of nerves before pulling away with a pop. 

“Jesus, you’re a fucking meal for a starving man.'' His words ring in your ears, clearing the carnal haze for a moment before a sob breaks out in the air.

“Oh my fucking god…”

“Calling for me, sweetheart?” 

 Your scream reverberates in the parking lot before reaching back to your ears; god, it’s humiliating. The whole scene is obscene in itself. His fingers curl inside you twice and thrice before you break, yet again. Your legs quiver as the sudden rush of your heightened pleasure threatens you to break free, and God, you’re so close, so damn close. 

“Let go for me, baby.” 

And you do.

“Fucking— gah—” your screech travels to his ears, and he gives out a devilish grin before devouring you again. His tongue is lapping up twice more rapidly than before, your whole body drained of any energy, yet you aim to push his head away. Your whole body twitches when he stands up from a kneeling position, your lungs halting their functioning at the scene in front of you.

His hair appears dishevelled, his fingers dripping in your essence, and his lips are painted with your slickness. With that wicked smirk, he looks enchantingly debonair, so damn alluring and captivating. 

“You ruined my Mustang’s bonnet, sweetheart,” he says whimsically before he cruelly grabs your jaw, coercing you to open your mouth. Then he plunges his slender fingers inside, resting them on your tongue as you close your mouth around them, trapping them inside. Your tongue circling around his fingers as a strange taste explodes in your mouth. “But aren’t you the sweetest ever?” his voice returns, and your face sets on fire. 

You feel overwhelmingly degraded.

He pulls his fingers out, and for a moment, your focus is on his fingers, covered in your saliva. Since when did you start to take pleasure in having his fingers down your throat? Probably from this instant.

His hand reaches out to you, pulling only your upper body so abruptly that you see black spots for a brief moment. You’re yet to return to your senses, but you’re too far gone for that. You’re face to face with his crotch, and you’ve never been more tempted than now to put your hands on something. His bulge is so prominent under his jeans. Several questions run through your mind; however, one stands out the most:

Will you be able to take him? To handle him?

And the answer? Yes.

Because you always do.

Your shaky hands come up to rest themselves on his belt, and you can sense his eyes following your every action. You dare to look up in his intense stare, and Lord fuck him if you aren’t the most exquisite site ever to him. The fiery innocence staring up at him from that angle flares a carnal desire inside him. How the fuck can someone be so hauntingly enchanting? 

He’s so ruined, all by you.

If you were to ever use that knife on him, it’s safe to say he’d have gladly presented himself to you.

You pull at his jeans’ waistband, and all hell breaks loose. He grips your wrists, halting your actions, and a gasp slips past your lips before he crashes his lips on yours in a so fucking animalistic way. His other hand reaches behind your back, his cold fingers rigorously opening your knot, and the front of the dress falls, putting a show of your bare tits, your nipples so perky and begging him for torture. He’s twisted like that.

“Kim— shit!” He abruptly pulls away before trailing his hot tongue down to your buds, one hand coming up to twist and pinch the other bud. Your back arches as he pushes you back on the bonnet. His warm tongue moves in circles around your areola before he grazes your bud with his teeth, a sharp cry breaking out from you. He moves his mouth to the other bud before nibbling on it, sucking on it, doing all sorts of torture one can imagine. Tears cascade down your eyes, trailing down your cheeks. But gosh, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes? A feast for a man’s fantasies? Specifically Taehyung’s.

Your hands reach down between your bodies, your nails grazing his bulge, and Oh, the fucking impatience eating you up.

“Fucking hell, sweetheart. The ecstasy that you got me in, no words can ever be enough to praise you.” his words leave you on the edge of passing out, “Such a fucking captivating thing. Go ahead, baby.” His throaty whisper in your ear falters your movement for a swift span before you haphazardly open his belt, your hands working quicker than when you pull the trigger in the practice room. You unzip his jeans, pushing his jeans and Calvin Klein boxer down, and my god, the veins make you breathless. 

You watch as he strokes his girth before he comes closer to your face, pushing his fingers back in your mouth, almost choking you. Your hands twitch to reach up and touch him, but you know better than that, especially when you see your knife in his hand, twirling it before he puts it on your nipple. The cold sensation knocks the air out of you, and you suck in oxygen harshly. He then puts the knife's sharp point near your bud, holding the knife in a standing position, and a resounding scream reverberates inside you. 

The scream breaks free when his firm hand lands on your pussy, slapping thrice. Unfortunately, you don’t have the bliss to move or thrash unless you want blood all over your chest. 

Jesus, he’s so deranged.

“You will stay still for me, right? Unless you are into blood play, then, I’d ravel in making your fantasy come true.” He's so sick, so so sick.

A silent gasp pushes past your lips when he strokes his cock on your folds, slathering it up in your slick. He circles your areola with the dagger and thrust inside with powerful force, bottoming out in one go. Your jaw falls open, but no sound can be heard except for his guttural groan. God, he sounds heavenly. You feel so lightheaded, so full, as you keep coming back and forth out of consciousness. He’s so deep inside you reaching spots you were unaware of could produce such pleasure.

“Fuck, fucking bliss.” You hear him curse out before he pulls out entirely, and you feel like crying because of how empty you feel. 

So brain-rotted.

Your body goes rigid when he thrusts back with more force than before, your hands trying to grab onto something so desperately, yet they stay empty, yearning to touch him. As he gains momentum, his moans and groans push you past your limit, squelching wet noises filling your senses as your oversensitive pussy pleads at his mercy.

Taehyung groans out as he increases his pace, all ferocious with his thrusts as his other hand comes up to pinch your nipples, and a scream rips out of you.

“Fuck Taehyung! Please…” 

“Yeah? Feels good? ‘cause I’m in fucking heaven, fuck—” 

You are willing to do everything if you have the opportunity to hear him like this on a daily basis. His thrusts falter when you clench your pussy around him, and his hand delivers a forceful slap to your tits, a hiss falling from your lips. Your anguished wails and inconsolable sobs are met with apathetic disregard.

He drags the knife down to your belly before pressing into it, and a sharp pain explodes, taking over your senses before he discards the knife into some corner and pushes a hand on the subtle fresh cut he made. Pressing on it, he delves into ever-increasing depths with each successive thrust. Your coil of pleasure teeters with a formidable desire for liberation on being pressed by his hand. Several ‘fucks’ and ‘ah-s’ falling free from both of you.

His hand reaches up to twirl your nipple one last time before his movements become faster and more erratic as he pounds into you with increasing ferocity. His thrusts go deep and hard, hitting all the right spots inside you as you babble out unintelligible words. Your peak heightens as time swiftly passes. His hand moves between your legs, rubbing on your clit until you scream out in ecstasy. 

A sensation of relief washes over you, and he follows soon after, grunting out your name before he spills his seeds inside you, filling you up, and oh my god, you feel so full, so fucking filled to the brink. 

“Fucking shit,” his deep raspy voice reaches to you as your eyes threaten to close, your consciousness walking out of the parking lot, but then a whimper mixed with a hiss makes its way out of your spent form when he pinches and slaps your pussy. 

“Stop— please.” You observe as his eyes gleam with primal lust before he descends upon your lips with force, fiercely biting and teasing until you reciprocate, resulting in the exchange of crimson essence. He pulls away, and a piercing whistle echoes in the area —coming from him— before he looks behind, and your gaze follows with half-droopy eyes. He stares directly into the CCTV and— a fucking CCTV.

You curse, and his head whips to you before he throws a wink your way, infuriating you cause he was aware of the CCTV, fucking damn it. He lowers his face to your visage, sinking his teeth into the contour of your jawline, thus imparting the mingling of blood from his lips onto your skin.

“Holy fuck sweetheart, you will eventually be the reason for my demise. Witness me accept it with a foolish grin on my face.”

Ⓒzyphqr. Do not translate, copy, modify or repost without permission.

ghoul. — (consign)

[SIXTH INSTALMENT OF GHOUL SERIES : CONSIGN]

"Kiss your clean record goodbye." Provocation or prediction.

or

S2 squad went to the 13th ward for a Wipe Out Operation but didn't expect to encounter an Owl in the midst of the operation.

pairing. jungkook x reader, hoseok x reader, jin x reader (ft. myg & pjm)

rating. M

genre. tokyo ghoul au, soulmate au, gore, violence, mass attack

disclaimer. this story is a work of fiction. descriptions of the BTS members in this story does not reflect nor portray them in real life. everything in this story only fits in imagination and does not apply outside of imagination.

warning. lots of bloodshed (mostly spilled from the ghouls :/), depiction of people (doves) getting killed ruthlessly by the Owl and killing methodology was described.

word count. 5k+

lexicon & profiles . masterpost . masterlist . navigation

note from winter 💌

sorry for the long disappearance </3 but er hey, a brand new banner for ghoul!! beta read by loyal beta reader @zyphqr <3 this is just a short one maybe can be counted as a filler chapter too, but it will make do. hope you guys enjoy this <33 and u lots might not notice, but i kind of changed my writing style a bit? I think consign has got to be the most elaborated fic I've ever written cause those detailed words? idk how my brain came up with that but I'm proud of this one

💌 what is winter listening to? in sequence; D-DAY, Interlude: Dawn, HUH?!, AMYGDALA. (All by Agust-D)

📑 if you want to know more about this au, you can refer to lexicon & profiles. any other questions you can refer to me !!

dedication. a gift to all of my readers.

The urban avenue of Seoul tonight was oddly still, with only sporadic leaf rustling in the soft breeze breaking the silence. The streetlights emitted a pale light illuminating the desolate pathway and generating a creepy ambience that felt unsettling. The towering edifices on both sides of the street looked imposing and austere, with dark windows and walls stained by the wear of time. In Seoul, quiet streets like this one often serve as a warning sign, hinting at the stillness that precedes a night of horror and violence.

This only served as a warning that hazards could present in any situation, even in the calmest and most tranquil circumstances.

The only sounds that interrupted the quietness were the faraway noise of cars and the faint footsteps’ echoes. A stray feline would occasionally scuttle across the street, eyes gleaming, barely visible in the low light. Despite the peacefulness of the evening, the street’s stillness felt unusual and peculiar. A strong odour of rot and other, more ominous scents, detectable only by those with heightened senses, hung heavily in the air. An enduring sensation of peril seemed to permeate the surroundings, giving the impression of being under surveillance by something lurking in the shadows. The silence was broken by the occasional sound of shattering glass or the screech of metal against metal. A car alarm would blare for a few moments before falling silent once more.

These sounds, too, added to the unease that hung in the air, hinting at the possibility of danger lurking in the darkness.

For those who knew of the existence of ghouls, quiet streets would be even more unsettling. People would be acutely aware that a ghoul could lurk somewhere in the shadows, watching, waiting for its next victim. The silence of the street, combined with the faint scent of blood in the air, would make them feel like they were walking on thin ice, with danger lurking around every corner.

The 13th ward, Seochu-gu.

The pale moonlight bathed the ward where ghouls were recently reported to be lurking in the shadows. The usually bustling streets were now empty, only to be filled in by a large group of doves - some dressed in formal KCCG attire while others were heavily armed. Operating vehicles and drones were also present, adding to the sense of preparation and anticipation in the air. As Jung Hoseok, the Chief Director of Division II, approached, the sound of footsteps echoed through the night, accompanied by the presence of bureaus.

“Alright, good evening, doves,” Hoseok spoke, his voice firm and commanding. “I, Jung Hoseok, Chief Director of Division II, will be leading today’s Wipe Out Operation that is to be conducted here in the 13th ward.”

You and another four supreme investigators stood at attention, listening to Hoseok’s every word. “Operating squad involved in this operation will only be the Supreme Squad S2 and 75 Bureaus. Other than S2 and Bureau Investigators are required to leave the scene. Failed to do so and get caught by S2 squad members, the bureaus, or me, will receive disciplinary action.” Everyone present at the scene nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation. Hoseok continued, “Commencing roll call on S2 squad. Please present your weapon.”

Each member stood tall and proud, eyes scanning the surrounding area for any signs of danger. The atmosphere was tense, and they knew they were about to embark on a dangerous mission. Finally, Hoseok began calling out names; each member stepped forward to present their weapon.

“Present as always.” A soulful voice spoke with confidence.

The roll call started with Jeon Jungkook, the Branch Director of 2nd Ward, as he confidently presented his weapon, the Angel Beat, an SS-rated Ukaku type known for its incredible speed and accuracy. Min Yoongi stepped forward with a bored, unbothered expression and presented his weapon, the 13’s Jason, a Rinkaku type rated S+. 13’s Jason was one of the most potent weapons in their arsenal, and Min Yoongi knew how to use it to devastating effect.

As the roll call continued, Park Jimin, another Special Class member, stepped forward proudly with his charming smile, “Never not present,” and presented his weapon, the IXA, a Koukaku type that was rated S+.

Kim Seokjin, your fellow Associate Special Class, followed suit, responded upon his name being called and presented his weapon, the Narukami, an S+-rated Ukaku type known for its incredible range and power.

Finally, your name was called out. Your grip tightened on your quinque as you presented your weapon, the Aus, a Rinkaku-type rated S+. The Aus was a fearsome weapon known for its speed and agility, and you had spent countless hours training with it to hone your skills. As the roll call came to a close, you stood steady, weapon at the ready.

Hoseok looked around at his team, impressed by their impressive arsenal. “Total of five members. Weapon rating from SS to S+.”

He then briefed the investigators on the operation. “This operation aims to cleanse the 13th ward off ghouls. It was brought to our attention that quite a number of ghouls have been roaming in this ward. Expect every worst possibility as the data collected by the bureaus have shown that several S+ rated ghouls are hiding in this ward.”

“Movement will be in personal formation with 15 Bureaus as back-ups. I will be assisting each one of you through the earpiece and monitoring through the drones.”

The investigators nodded, preparing themselves for the dangerous mission ahead. Hoseok gave them a nod of approval. “Doves, fight with your all. Best of luck,” he said before giving the signal.

“Operation commences.”

With a nod from your leader, the five of you set out into the dark night, ready to fight for justice and protect the citizens of the 13th ward from the threat of ghouls. You moved out, determined to eliminate the ghouls that lurked in the darkness. As all of you moved through the eerie streets of the 13th ward, the tension in the air was felt by everyone. The sound of footsteps echoed loudly as if warning any lurking ghouls of the doves’ presence. Jungkook took point, his Angel Beat quinque ready in his grip. He scanned the area, searching for any signs of movement.

“Clear,” he informed Hoseok, his voice crackling through your earpiece too.

As Jungkook ventured to his chosen route, the rest of the team moved forward, staying in formation before breaking into personal formation. Your squad moved deeper into the ward, searching every nook and cranny for any sign of ghoul activity. The tension was palpable, as all of you knew that any misstep could mean certain death or injury.

To describe Wipe-Out Operation with one word would be unpredictable. This operation was assigned to the Supreme Squad for a reason. Given the unpredictability, KCCG only sent out Associates Special Class and above to prevent any unwarranted damages, and it was usually conducted and supervised by Division Chief Director, Hoseok or Namjoon, according to the wards involved. KCCG strictly prohibited any ranks lower than Associate Special and Special from participating in the operation, no matter how great and exceptional one’s skills were.

It was the experience that counted, at least according to the KCCG’s higher-ups.

“Remaining doves, split into pairs,” Hoseok commanded. “The headquarters sent a newly found vision radar of the 13th ward, and the Rc levels are increasing. Jungkook, be informed. I will send out more bureaus to your side.”

“Very well.” His voice echoed in your earpiece following Hoseok.

“Bureaus, load your Q-bullets,” he ordered, stern and commanding.

The bureaus sprang into action, their movements quick and efficient. They reached for their bullet cases, deftly loading their Q-bullets into their quinques. The sound of the bullets clicking into place was the only noise in the silent night as they prepared themselves for the upcoming operation. They stood in line as they finished loading, waiting for the following order. Each one was ready for whatever lay ahead, their minds focused and their hearts beating with anticipation.

“Weapons are to be fired upon the orders of your respective formation leaders,” Hoseok instructed one last time before going off the communication system.

Suddenly, Yoongi urged you to follow him, “Let’s go (Y/N).”

Noticing the confusion on Jimin’s face, he clarified the situation by pointing out that it wouldn’t be a good idea to form a team with two associates and two special classes.

“In that case, you can take Jin,” Jimin countered, crossing his arms.

Yoongi scoffed, “Damn. Did I miss a notice stating that (Y/N) is your partner again?” He then grabbed your wrist and pulled you towards the other side of the ward, leaving Jimin fuming with anger and Jin puzzled.

As you and Yoongi turned to a corner, a loud noise erupted. The two of you stopped any movements, weapons raised as a reflex. You knew better than to speak out loud, so you waited with bated breath. Suddenly, a figure leapt out from the shadows.

It was a ghoul.

Its Kagune gleamed in the dim light and moved at a thunder-like speed, but before the ghoul could even reach the two of you, Yoongi had already unsheathed his jagged quinque. His quinque sliced through the air with deadly accuracy as he pivoted on his heel and swung, slicing through its kagune. The ghoul stumbled backwards, blood gushing from the wound on its side. Yoongi didn’t give it a chance to recover, though. He pressed forward, striking blow after blow with his quinque.

The ghoul crumpled to the ground with a loud thud, lifeless.

You stood back, watching as Yoongi wrenched the blood off his weapon and rested it on his shoulder. You weren’t oblivious to the fact that Yoongi was the most ruthless, quick-witted investigator ever to be born in KCCG. But at that moment, you wished he was anything but those. The ghoul you and Yoongi had encountered was a lone male ghoul. But it wasn’t that fact that made you hesitant.

He looked terrified. Eyes wide with fear.

It wasn’t the fear of being found by doves.

The fear in his eyes was present even before the pair of you arrived. He was about to say something before Yoongi killed him. You didn’t miss the tremble of his lips. “He was trying to tell something.” You approached the dead body.

Yoongi crouched down beside you and examined the ghoul’s face. “It doesn’t matter now.”

You frowned; you couldn’t shake the feeling that you might have missed something important. You scanned the area to see if there were other ghouls nearby, but there weren’t any. You and Yoongi moved forward cautiously. The streets of the 13th ward were silent. The moon shone down the deserted road, casting an eerie glow on the surroundings. As you and your partner walked further into the area, Yoongi suddenly stopped in his tracks, causing you to do the same.

The sound of footsteps echoed in the distance, approaching you rapidly.

Yoongi swung his quinque, ready for use, a menacing look on his face. You followed suit, grip on your weapon tightening. The footsteps grew closer, and you could see the silhouette of three figures approaching your direction with crazed expressions on their faces, ready to attack.

Without hesitation, Yoongi charged forward, striking one of the ghouls with a swift blow from his quinque. They clashed back and forth, Yoongi using his agility to dodge the ghoul’s attacks and strike back with his 13’s Jason. Each time he landed a hit, the ghoul would let out a pained growl, but it only seemed to make it more aggressive.

But it made Yoongi scoff.

He found it funny how the ghoul tried to act mighty and strong when he could easily detach the head from the neck with bare hands. Yoongi fought the creature with a clear stance and graceful movements as if he was performing a dance.

A deadly dance.

He was, after all, a killing machine masking as a delicate doll.

The remaining two turned their attention to you. The male ghoul was massive, towering over you with impressive height and a menacing expression. His kagune, a long tentacle-like appendage, whipped through the air as it prepared to attack. He lunged forward, forming his kagune into a claw; he aimed at your chest. But you quickly dodged the attack, stepping to the side and bringing your Aus up in a defensive stance. He snarled and attacked again.

Yoongi launched a powerful attack with his kagune, slicing through the ghoul’s torso and causing him to fall to the ground with a thud. He dragged his quinque painfully slow through the ghoul’s body as more blood flowed out. He lazily turned his head toward your direction. You were fighting two ghouls, but he didn’t have any intention of helping you, so he continued playing with the dead body.

You can handle them…

Probably, he shrugged.

With a swift movement of your wrist, you sliced through the ghoul’s arm, causing him to screech in pain and recoil. The second one finally jumped into the fight. She was relentless, her kagune striking out again and again, but you were unyielding, dodging, blocking, and attacking with unflinching determination. She charged at you upon seeing her friend being taken down, but again, you instinctively dodged to the side, swinging your quinque in a wide arc. She was fast, but you were quicker as you blocked and deflected her attacks while landing blows of your own. Your weapon finally made heavy contact with the ghoul’s flesh, spraying a shower of blood into the air. She howled in pain, but you couldn’t feel any sympathy; instead, you could feel a rush of adrenaline.

Suddenly, the injured male lunged forward with lightning speed, his kagune striking at you with deadly force. You looked at him with a condescending smirk, “A strong one, aren’t you?”

It was almost psychotic how your tone sounded because nothing could’ve prepared your opponents for your sudden move. Your quinque pierced through the ghoul’s flesh in a blink of an eye, and he let out a final howl before collapsing to the ground, dead.

It took the female one off guard, but you didn’t give her time to recover as you jumped over her head and delivered a powerful kick to its back. She was sent flying with great force; probably broke a few bones and damaged some areas of skin. You looked down at her spasming figure with malice and plunged your Aus into her back, ending her life immediately.

The bureaus under your command had shocking looks on their faces. They exchanged glances with each other as if realising that you were not to be underestimated. Of course, they had always heard the praises that fell from the lips of the higher-ups that you were a skilled investigator, but seeing you in action was entirely another thing.

“New recruits?” Yoongi’s voice was calm and collected, betraying no hint of emotion as he finished off the ghoul he was handling just now.

He did detach the head from the neck.

The bureaus’ complexion paled, every colour drained at the horrendous sight before them.

“Right, I forgot bureaus don’t kill all the time,” because it was clear that killing ghouls was just another day in the life of a KCCG investigator.

Suddenly, a shiver ran down your spine as you caught a glimpse of a figure moving in the corner of your eye. It has to be a mistake. A low growl echoed through the hallway, causing the team to freeze. They knew that sound all too well - it was the sound of a ghoul.

Not just an ordinary ghoul.

“It’s the Owl.”

Yoongi’s voice was the last thing you heard before the explosive sound of the Owl crashing on the ground, announcing its presence and causing debris to rain down on everyone. The heavy feelings that have been crawling on your back. The first ghoul you had encountered, the terror and fear in his eyes.

The three ghouls that were killed.

They died in the hands of doves instead of the Owl.

It was unintentional that they encountered us.

They were running away from the grim reaper but still stumbled on death’s door.

“Take cover!” You commanded the bureaus, grabbing the nearest to you by the arm and pulling them towards the most immediate cover. You and Yoongi were split as he jumped toward the right side. You positioned yourself in front of the female bureau you had pulled with you, shielding her from any potential danger.

The Owl planned all of this. None of these were coincidences.

Reaching for your ear device, you contacted Hoseok, “Emergency code red-O, triple S; Yong. Location, North–”

“Bureaus, fire!”

Upon Yoongi’s command, the bureaus opened fire on the Owl. The air was filled with the sound of gunfire and the whistling of projectiles. But the bullets seemed to have no effect on it. The Owl grew even more enraged and began to thrash about wildly. Its tentacles flailed out in every direction, knocking over walls and sending debris flying through the air.

What the fuck?

Why is he provoking Yong?!

Owls were immune to Q-bullets; sometimes, even quinque does no damage. He should know that.

“Fall back!” You shouted through the chaos, but your command fell on deaf ears. The sound of the continuous firing prevented your voice from reaching your comrades. You scrambled to dodge the tentacles and find another safe cover. You could feel the ground shaking beneath you as Owl continued to wreak havoc on the ward. The dangerous creature let out a deafening screech. Its eyes glowed red as it turned its attention toward the bureaus. It flapped its kagune and leapt into the air, swooping down towards them with incredible speed. The armed investigators scattered desperately, trying to avoid the creature’s deadly tentacles.

“Investigator Min, we need to–”

Yong pounced on a group of bureaus, slashing and tearing with its razor-sharp appendages. They screamed in terror as the beast’s relentless assault tore them apart. Some were still shooting and firing in hopes of distracting or even injuring – just a minor wound on the Owl, but despite their best efforts, the attacks seemed only to enrage the Owl further. It seemed almost invincible, unstoppable in its rage. Its attacks became increasingly ferocious, and the investigators found themselves quickly losing ground.

You turned to your partner in terror, hoping he would just look you in the eyes and bellow a command. “Min Yoongi – !” Except he was not in his spot.

The Owl turned around just in time to block your superior’s attack with its own kagune. It countered with a devastating strike that nearly took Yoongi off his feet.

“Yoongi, Hoseok is on the way. We need to retreat first!” You tried to reach him again while trying to gather the bureaus. The situation was already chaos at its finest; Yoongi definitely didn’t need to add up to it.

With a violent swing of his 13’s Jason, Yoongi charged forward once more, his quinque gleaming in the dim light of the ward. The two engaged in an intense battle, their weapons clashing with each other in a violent symphony. He lunged at the Owl, his quinque slashing through the air toward the ghoul’s head. But no matter how skilled Yoongi was, Owl was no easy opponent, and it had yet to unleash its full power.

Yoongi was not Namjoon.

Not even Hoseok.

Skills unmatched.

Yong’s eyes glowed with malice. Sidestepping the attack, it launched itself towards Yoongi; massive kagune extended, robust scale-red slashed through the air and to his abdomen. Yoongi stumbled back as blood seeped through his shirt.

He cursed under his breath, looking down at his open wound. His stamina was decreasing significantly from all those attacks and defences. But his body had long entered survival mode; he was far from exhausted. The Owl that stood in front of him, he knew very well.

The same Owl that caused a riot and havoc back in his hometown.

The very same Owl that became the reason why he was in KCCG instead of living happily with his family.

The one and only Owl that was responsible for his first ever traumatic event.

The fucking Owl that–

“Yoongi, dodge!” You slammed your body toward Yoongi without thinking twice the moment you saw his eyes go blank. You’ve seen that Yoongi way too many times. The Yoongi that would be deep in thought and stare into nothingness when you passed by his office. The only moment where he would show vulnerability unconsciously, and you knew how much he hated it– because you hated it too– but that always happened in the KCCG building and never, ever during a mission.

The collision between your body and Yoongi’s was extremely powerful that it sent him flying to the other side, to a safer side. His eyes finally met yours as his train of thought was interrupted. The worried expression on his face was the first you ever saw in your time working with him as he screamed your name with great desperation. You could swear you saw his eyes turn glossy before you were sent flying.

You pushed him just in time but were a second late to dodge the Owl’s full-force attack. Your Aus managed only to cover your torso as the Owl’s movement was too quick for your reflex. Your whole body met with the Owl’s heavy blow.

Since when does getting hit by your own quinque hurt like bitch? “S-shit…”

Your body was numb.

Hey, at least you’re not feeling pain.

Better than feeling the pain like someone was taking away your soul.

“Oh, my lady,” A voice reached your ears, although it was very faint due to the impact your body had experienced. You knew whose voice it was. “Do you recognise me?”

It was Hoseok.

You blinked twice as a yes.

“Good girl.” Weirdly you could feel his gentle stroke on your hair. His warmth reached your cold, numbing body. You wanted to close your eyes. “I need you to stay with us until you reach the hospital. Can you do that for me?”

You were tired. You didn’t think you could comply with this order.

“I know you’re tired and hurt, (Y/N), but I need you to just stay conscious. Jin will keep you company. I will take over everything from here. Take a rest, but please stay alive.”

The next thing you know, Jin was already on your side with a worried expression. “(Y/N), hang on there. The ambulance is on the way.” He stroked your hair with his rough, calloused hand – probably due to handling those heavy killing weapons. Your hands were no different. In fact, all ghoul investigators were bound to roughen their hands.

With the quinques.

And with blood.

Oh, are you regretting your decision, (Y/N)?

Never.

“Stay with us, (Y/N),” you heard Jungkook’s voice. Quinque was thrown to the side as he kneeled next to you. You swore his force could’ve injured his knees, but he didn’t seem to care at all by the looks of it. His eyes were only on you. Pupils dilated in fear. Hands and lips trembled as he spoke. “It must’ve hurt a lot, Sakura.”

Sakura.

“Yeah,” you said with minimal energy. “It hurts a lot, Koo.”

Jimin arrived last at the scene. He was out of breath from the sprinting he did when he received Hoseok’s assembly order. His eyes first landed on your half-alive body before the sight of the hideous monster caught his eyes.

Yoongi and (Y/N) couldn’t be that stupid to try and take the Owl down.

One was a half-ghoul, and another one was pure human.

“Oh, Yong Owl,” Hoseok had left your side, hands stuffed in his pockets and walked towards Yoongi, ordering the other fellow Supreme Squad members to follow him with bureaus at the ready. “It’s been a while, don’t you think?”

Yong Owl.

That name caught Jimin’s attention. When Hoseok commanded him to come here, he wasn’t informed which Owl was at the scene; only his rate was told. Jimin pushed back his hair from his forehead. He so badly wanted to burst into a loud laugh. He let his hand stay on his face longer but couldn’t contain the vicious smirk tugging on his lips at the realisation. Of course, it wasn’t you that could be so stupid in this situation.

You were the result of Yoongi’s stupidity.

Yong wasn’t some random Owl. Of course, he wasn’t, even for KCCG. But Yong was especially not some random Owl for Yoongi.

Jungkook hesitated to walk away from you but got on his feet and stood next to Jin with a concerned face for a few seconds. You were, after all, a Jeon. He couldn’t bear to see his family in pain and let the assaulter run away. He was torn between staying by your side or taking down Yong Owl. Jimin slung his hand on Jungkook’s shoulder, pulling the younger with him heading towards the Owl.

Yong was the murderer of Yoongi’s family.

“We’ll be right back, (Y/N),” Jimin sent you a wink. A smirk followed shortly after as he continued. “After this, no more danger you can’t take on will come your way.”

Silly Yoongi, but thank you for the opportunity, soulmate.

“Didn’t expect to see me?” Hoseok smiled. “I know you wish to have encountered Namjoon instead because he always lets you go unscathed, worried for his teammates.”

Yong took a step back as the Chief Director took a step forward. Hoseok was known for his ruthlessness, and that fact was well-learned even for ghouls, even for Owls. While he seemed like the most gentle and caring person, the fact was that he was still a ghoul investigator. His motto in KCCG was to kill with passion. He has worked for KCCG for the longest among everyone. His entire bloodline was born only to serve KCCG for the betterment of the world.

Most Owls have their own hideouts that were undetectable by KCCG; hence it was unlikely for Owls to bump into the doves. Moreover, Owls always stayed lowkey.

“But things work differently for me. You bark, I bite.”

A bureau walked towards Hoseok to hand him a quinque suitcase. Jimin whistled at the sight. He knew what was in that. Heck, it even looked different than any other quinque suitcase.

It was the legendary quinque.

It was the quinque imported from CCG, Japan. Previously wielded by Arima Kishou, the legendary ghoul investigator before he died, since then, the quinque has been stored in CCG’s top secret room. It was only recently an evaluation was done to hand over the quinque to worthy hands and make use of it. Hoseok was invited to take part in the evaluation and easily scored the highest. The quinque was named Owl, created from a kakuhou torn out of the Non-Killing Owl during the battle against Arima. Crafted with precision and designed for devastating efficiency, it possessed an air of elegance despite its deadly purpose. It was the only known SSS-rated quinque and the only one known to be created from a living ghoul. 

“Unlucky for you; you hurt my favourite person.” Hoseok shook his head in disappointment as he was just scolding a child for his wrongdoing. He activated the suitcase, and immediately, it transformed into the Owl.

The Owl quinque was a masterpiece of engineering, combining intricate craftsmanship with advanced technology. Its appearance was both captivating and haunting, resembling a pair of oversized metallic wings. The wings were adorned with intricate patterns and etchings, reflecting the meticulous attention to detail put into its creation. The surface of the quinque gleamed with a metallic sheen, hinting at its superior strength and durability. The blade of the quinque was razor-sharp, capable of easily slicing through flesh and exoskeleton. Its edges were finely honed and meticulously maintained, ensuring maximum combat-cutting efficiency.

But it was not just its physical attributes that made the Owl quinque so formidable. Within its core lay a unique and deadly mechanism. With a simple flick of a switch, the quinque would unleash its true power. The wings would unfold, revealing hidden compartments and mechanisms, each serving a specific purpose in enhancing combat capabilities. The Owl quinque was known for its incredible speed and agility. It allowed its wielder to move with astonishing swiftness, striking down enemies in a flurry of precise and lethal attacks. Its versatility was unmatched, enabling the wielder to seamlessly transition between offensive and defensive maneuvers, easily adapting to any situation.

Moreover, the quinque possessed a unique ability to absorb and manipulate the kagune, the potent weapon of the ghouls. It could absorb the kagune’s energy and redirect it with devastating force, turning the enemy’s own power against them. This ability allowed the wielder to effectively counter even the most formidable opponents, turning their strength into their downfall.

The sheer power and elegance of the Owl quinque made it a symbol of Arima’s skill and prowess as a CCG investigator. Its reputation preceded it, striking fear into the hearts of ghouls and admiration in the minds of fellow investigators.

It was a weapon of legend, capable of rewriting the course of battles and leaving a trail of destruction in its wake.

Weapon at ready, Hoseok began again, “I don’t want your death.”

In the hands of Arima, the Owl quinque became an extension of his own being. It embodied his relentless determination and unwavering resolve in the face of darkness. With each swing and strike, he delivered justice with chilling precision, carving a path through the ghouls that dared to challenge him, and it was about to be the same for Hoseok.

The legend of the Owl quinque would be relived in his hands.

“Your scream when I extract fragments of you in Cochlea sounds more satisfying.”

And he would start by painting the blood of Yong on the quinque.

All rights reserved © 2023 kthyg. Do not copy, translate, modify or repost without permission. Feedback is very much appreciated. It keeps me motivated! Send me an ask!

My cat neighbour | pjm

Fair enough. Weirder things had already happened to you, like that time you swore to have seen a shadow vanish in the corner of your room. Odd? Indeed. Impossible? Not quite. Buzzfeed? Unsolved. However, the fact that the cat you had seen settling down near your flat was actually a human—a hybrid, as he had stated—was certainly a bit too much.

index • next

Word count: 6k

Warnings: well if you’re not into hybrid smut (although i can grant you that all genitals and erotic zones addressed in this story are 100% human) then you probably shouldn’t read this. Anyways, this is a mess, i don’t even know what is this supposed to mean. Ended up being kinkier than i expected. Don’t look too deeply into it. Please. My therapist will be really disappointed if she ever finds out.

Also: some doctor who-shaming. Sorry, i hate cheesy sci-fi.

# cat hybrid!jimin, dom!reader, animal rut as a poor excuse to indulge in my kinks, dry humping, overstimulation, masturbation, nipple play, lactation kink, praise kink, Jimin really hasn’t grasped the concept of ‘non-pregnant women’s breasts don’t produce milk’, impregnation kink, vaginal sex, ‘mommy’ and ‘kitten’ as part of my big fat kink, of course.

After all those years, you were decided to put your life together and stop being a nuisance for society. No more partying until the next afternoon, no more sleeping around and not stepping on your apartment for days. You’d become the best, most responsible version of yourself from now on.

Why, people might ask you? Well, the reason was a pretty ball of blonde fluffy fur you had bumped into a few days ago.

You two had first met the day you caught him sneaking through the window into your kitchen, having probably smelled your delicious food from the street. As everyone in the neighbourhood knew, the colony cats used to gather at the end of the backstreet to share the food they found, so you assumed that was the reason why the cute kitten had shown up in your kitchen.

You fed him some turkey and fresh water, and he ate and drank plenty. The little cat didn’t look too dirty, nor too famished. It’d probably been abandoned by its owner not so long ago, and the thought made your heart ache.

“Do you mind if I pet you, kitten?” The cat meowed, looking at you with its big, black eyes, and rubbed its head against your hand. “Oh! You’re a smart little guy, aren’t you?”

However, the cat ran away shortly after, and you rushed to dress up for work, the hangover from last day still lingering.

The next time you saw it, it was raining cats and dogs, no pun intended, so you invited it in, towelled it dry, and fed it the leftovers of your dinner. It was dark and cold outside, so you also pitied it and allowed him to sleep with you on your bed. Its purring sang you to sleep.

By the time you woke up, the kitten had already disappeared from your embrace, so you got out of the bed to look for it, worrying about whether it had been caught by one of your neighbours’ evil kids to torture it. Kids nowadays were merciless, or at least so were the ones you had met around the block. Besides, your maternal instinct was less than alive.

“Kitten?” you called, leaning out of the bedroom door.

You heard a mellow meowing from the kitchen and saw it sticking out his tongue as it drank the running tap water, too engrossed in it to bother to look at you.

“Kitten! How did you turn it on?”

Keep reading

winter, what kind of leader are you?

leader with ptsd

when he’s mean but never physically >>

when he’s mean but protective >>>>> 💥💥💥

this is my type of shit 🤩

thank you for tagging me even though i didn’t recall signing up for Little Mouse’s taglist 😭 but at least i got a quick notification when this was posted so keep me in for part 2 too <3

squirming in my seat as i wait for the second part 👩‍💻

[One-shot]

Little Mouse — Park Jimin (Part 1)

✔︎ Summary: the principal's son, the reason why you can't enjoy school and the reason why you can't leave it finds out you're having a date with somebody that isn't him. ✔︎ Word Count: 7.6k (first part) ✔︎ Trope: Bully Yandere Jimin x Chubby brazilian oc, enemies to lovers (?), smut ✔︎ Warnings: 19 year old jimin (because he's hot asf), bullying, fat shaming, self esteem issues, evil teenagers, physical violence, gore, degradation, jimin is obnoxious, forced voyeurism, se*ual tension, bratty reader, dom jimin, public s*x, jealousy, possessive Jimin, praise, regret, stalking, supplication, jimin has humiliation kink (he's lowkey a sub), delusional behaviour. ✔︎ thvlouvre's note: honestly it's been a hell of a week for me and to write this one has been a little difficult, and since it's been 10 days and it's still not ready I wanted to post the first part at least, maybe your feedback will motivate me 🫶🏻❤️ thank u again to the lovely @lilliankoo for her help and proofreading this! part 2 coming out later when this flu is goneeee 🤧

“Sorry, but you seem to be fully recovered, I can’t give you another day” the doctor said while checking with a lamp over  your eyes, moving around the flashlight from one extreme to the other making your sight follow it. 

“I still feel dizzy, though” you lied, trying to play dumb so you could get one more day at least. 

“That might be because you’re not eating well, you look pale and tired” the doctor turned off the lamp and put  it inside his coat pocket, at the mention of food your stomach twisted needy “If the blow on your head isn’t because you fell off, and it was something else you should tell me, is somebody bothering you __?”

You stared at him, his silver hair and greyish skin making him look like someone you could trust, but at the same time remembering you were not one of them, you were just another foreigner in that hell’s school, and everybody was up to his service. 

You moved here six months ago, when you won a scholarship to a franchise of your own high school in another country, same classes, same uniform, same installations, different language, and people. It was very exciting and new, it was all fun and games until he saw his next victim  in you  to unleash his devilish games. 

Park Jimin. The top-notch student. 

Handsome and rich, great manners and great body paired with a beautiful smile, but his eyes were from another world. Cold, lifeless, evil. Every single time he glanced at you, you could feel the contempt he had for you, the hateful and vicious disgust he felt for you. And he was never alone, he surrounded himself with a litter of creeps, bootlickers that did whatever he told them to do. 

His aggressions started by being harmless, they were playful even. He would drink a sip from your strawberry milk and return it almost empty. It didn’t bother you, you had a fridge in your room full of those. He would steal your pencils or change your backpack and books to the last chair of the room when you went to the restroom in the middle of the class. Yes, they were annoying, but initially you thought he was just a joker and that he liked to prank you because you were the new girl. 

It all became insufferable when you made the mistake of taking a second bottle of strawberry milk with you one day, and just when he had arrived next to you to steal yours, you took out the second milk and hand it to him. 

“What’s this?” he asked annoyed.

“Strawberry milk” you answered, your thick  Brazilian accent floating in the air. 

“I know it’s strawberry milk, what do you want me to do with it?”

“It’s for you” you said, your smile shining under the sunlight “You always take my milk, I guess I you like it, so I brought one for you” He stayed in silence for two minutes, just looking at you confused, why would you bring something to him when he has being awful with you?

“I’m ____, by the way, I’m new” you extended your hand to greet him formally, but he interrupted you again. 

“I know your name, I know you’re new” he said, not even bothering to hold your hand “Do you know who I am?” 

“No” and just when you were about to ask him his name, he opened the pink bottle and pour it above your head, your neat and clean uniform getting all spilled with pink milk and your hair wet and sticky. “Park Jimin, my father is the principal so don’t you forget that honey” and he left, the student’s eyes following you after you ran to the toilet to clean  yourself.

His attacks continued getting meaner and meaner each day, but ultimately he would always ask his gang to do something wrong to you while he would just watch. For an unknow reason, when he was with his gang his attacks were lighter, just him mocking you or insulting you, making you the laughingstock of the class, always pointing at how out of shape you were.

When his group of friends were alone, not a sight of Jimin around, that’s when they would get violent, throwing your body between them in a circle, pushing you, pulling your hair. Four days ago, one of his friends hit your head with a locker door and left you unconscious in the hallway, that’s why you were so insistent with the doctor to give you another day of inability due to your injury. 

You were getting tired and regretful of coming here in the first place. In your hometown, your country, you were the most popular girl of the school, everybody loved you and no one ever laughed at your body shape. Having curves was normal for them, but here… they seemed to hate it. You stopped eating because of that. 

“I can’t give you another day, you told me that you tripped over the stairs” that’s what you said, because if you tell the principal or any other teacher that his son and his friends were making your life a living hell they  wouldn’t do anything about it, you’ve tried, many times. You went with a teacher, and they seemed interested at first, but as soon as you dropped his name they froze and told you to go with the prefect. You went with the prefect, and when you told him it was Jimin the one bothering you he told you go with the school coordinator, and the list kept going.

No one ever did anything. 

“No one is helping! I’ve been with the discipline coordinator so many times and he keeps telling me to come back to you and make you pass the memo to the principal” you said  to the principal’s secretary. At this point, you knew they would never let him know what his son was up to, but you still held  hope that someone will pity you and stop this madness.

“Listen, I won’t be the one telling the principal that his son is committing harassment to another student, if he was a nice and fair man I would but if you think Jimin is despicable, his father is ten times worst” the secretary, who was clearly tired of you and her job in general, spitted in between her teeth “I suggest you to go yourself if you are brave enough, but one thing is sure, he won’t care, he never cares when it comes to his son” 

You swallowed nervously, trying to hide your fear and helplessness. 

On your way out of the office,  they found you. 

“Look who is here!” one of the boys said, his name was Chanwook and he was Jimin’s second hand. He was taller and skinnier, but that didn’t prevent him from throwing you to the walls and floor as strongly as he could. He was the one who hated you the most, just after Jimin himself, of course “Oh, no guys, she’s coming out of the principal’s office, she’s a sneak!” he faked preoccupation with a pout.

“Sneaky little bitch!” that was Meeyon, the alleged girlfriend of Jimin. And only alleged because Jimin himself never held  her hand, kissed her or acted sweetly towards her in public, actually he would ignore her whenever she started to act mellow with him with people around. But everybody knew he fucks her on a regular basis “You weren’t satisfied with being ugly but you’re also a snitch fat bitch” 

She grabbed you by the chin and held  your face close to hers “Jimin will know about this” 

“Jimin would throw her from the stairs” the sadistic voice of Chanwook sounded overly excited with the perspective of pushing you off the stairs and see how much it would take you to faint. You gasped because that sounded more like a Chanwook’s wish, Jimin never got physical with you, he just fucks with your mind and emotions. It wasn’t better, but still.

“I think Jimin would actually make her run in the court” Junghae suggested and made the other two laugh, “We should make her run until she can’t breathe” he said eating his sandwich carelessly. Junghae was the stupidest guy you’ve ever met, saying his dumbest thoughts out loud and pretending they weren’t mean at all. 

You felt the panic paralyzing your body, the fear and angst running and making you want to cry but holding it. You tried to walk past them, walking by the side to the main door, but Junghae grabbed you by the hand and pulled your arm back with them again, his hand hurting your wrist, making you  feel the blood accumulating where he was touching you. 

“Where do you think you’re going? It’s already 4 o’clock and we are not done with you…” the way his voice was always threatening made you shiver, his eyes always burnt with the deepest and purest type of hate; as if he for real wanted to see you lying on the floor lifeless. 

You tried to run away, but they chased you and Chanwook hit your head with the door locker and left you there when your body laid for five minutes unconscious. A person from the cleaning department found you and called the ambulance. 

They gave you a five-day inability, taking classes over the webcam and sending the home works via the email, it was paradise. You didn’t want it to end. 

“I need you to tell me if someone is bothering you, __” the doctor said again, but you shook your head nervously. 

“No, I’m fine. I-I just tripped” you didn’t sound convince and judging by the fear in your eyes he knew you weren’t.

“You know I work to a medical agency and not the school, right?” he mentioned, like wanting to clarify his job position to you “I go wherever my agency tells me to go, my superior is my hospital manager not the principal, I can report any harassment and bring the Ministry of Education if necessary.” 

“No, it’s okay, I-“

“__, is it Mr. Park’s son?”

Your silence was his answer, he was familiarized with his manias.

“I can call my supervisor but he’s on vacation, he will be back in two weeks, until then you can always come to the nursery room, I’ll hide you here” and finally let you go, feeling protected at last.

You went to the grocery store that afternoon, resign that you would come back to the school routine of wake up, sleep in class and get hurt, so you decided to treat yourself and eat some candies while watching a tv show on your laptop. There was a grocery store half a street near where your student’s residency building was, so you always went there to shop. 

You picked a regular black skirt, a white tank top and red converse. Your loved gummies, they were your favorite snack, so you picked three different flavors, cherry soda, pop corns, ice cream and chocolate bars. You let your full basket fell with the cashier but there was a little card that said: I went to the restroom; I’ll be back soon. 

You waited patiently there, taking your phone out to scroll a little when the bell on the front door rang and you didn’t turn around to see, your attention fixated on a video of a kitten playing with a rubber duck.

Jimin got into the store without any hopes of you being there, but in the months you’ve been in school with him he discovered where you lived and he figured you would usually buy your stuff here, since it was the closest grocery shop to your building. It was very far away from his house, he lived in a very nice area where all the houses where big, majestic, and empty. This neighborhood was economically different from his, but there he was. 

All the times he came here you were never present. Once or twice, he saw you coming out, making him regret not hurrying up enough to catch you inside for a minute or two. So when he enters the store this time, his hope is all gone, not really believing you would be there but holding to the routine; until he sees you. 

You were turning your back to him, your exquisite voluptuous figure bending over the checker waiting for the cashier to come back, your ass perked out and bouncing to the rhythm of the music coming out of your phone and your hair pulled on a messy hair bun. You had a red ribbon adorning your hair bun. He froze when he caught the nudity of your legs in that short skirt and images of your red converse stepping on him pleased him. 

He coughed his throat softly, trying to swallow and picked random shit from the store. He hurried because even when he wanted to make it seem casual, he wanted to talk to you. He opened the fridge and grabbed a can soda, chips and condoms. He drank your silhouette from behind before talking and ruining your day. Your legs were thick and soft, just the way legs should be. 

He remembered the day he saw them for the first time, it was on your first week after moving, you were using the EP uniform, but it was slightly different from the rest of the girl’s uniform. It was a short, and that was the regular uniform on your country, sports skirt or shorts. You were the only student showing off your legs and you seemed like it didn’t matter, running and jumping like nothing, and he wanted you for that. 

You had something he didn’t: confidence.

Actual confidence and not like his fake performance of being powerful and feared because of his position. Here you were nothing, nobody knew you or your family, and yet you were so free and powerful. Maybe that was why he felt the need to tear you down. 

“You’re not eating all that, are you?” he teased, and he felt proud when he saw your back arch in defense recognizing his voice without looking at him, your body language responding to the sound of his voice so quick. He reached the checker as well, and placed his stuff right next to you, watching the basket and the products “You eat for two, uh?” 

“And what if I do? that’s none of your business” you responded infuriated and he loved the way you would never back off, you would always put him in his place and were never afraid of talking back. He was the powerful  here, but you never let him walk over you, that was why he became addicted to bullying you so fast. 

“Actually, it is my business because as you know I'm president of the ecology club and this month's homework is to raise awareness about whales” and looked down your body, scanning you from your sun kissed skin to your boobs that were displaying over the tank top’s low neck. You thought he was judging you but the reality was that Jimin was memorizing, so he could use his imagination later. 

“And when are you going to raise awareness about the scarcity of your brain?” 

“When you tell for who all that food is” he spoke trying to control his laugh, he really loved your quick and smart answers, they made his day better. 

You doubt to say it, because he would mock in your face and call you a liar, but he already did that every day, so you happily responded him: “Believe it or not, I have a date.” 

His heart got numb. You couldn’t be having a date, why would anyone pick you for a date? Ever since the day you arrived, he marked you; bullying and harassing you was his way to let everybody know you were damaged merchandise. He isolated you through pranks and insults so everybody would know that if they made friends with you, they would face the same destiny. 

So, why would you be having a date now? 

“Who’s the loser?” he carelessly asked. 

“Why? You’re jealous?” you answered, praying for the cashier to hurry and charge you so you could leave. 

“You wish, I just pity them, sent him my condolences.” He sounded significantly mad, but you didn’t notice since he was always mad when you were around.  

“I will when you rest in peace.”

“Bitch.” He spitted. 

“Asshole.”

The cashier appeared, confused and astonished because on his way to his place he caught pieces of your conversation but he stayed quiet, not wanting to know what was going on between the two of you. 

“Little mouse!” he shouted before you leave the shop, and you hated how your body stopped on his way out as if it was your natural name “Will you go to school tomorrow? The day is boring when you’re not there.”

You rolled your eyes, not answering to his ridiculous question because he knew you were going to be there tomorrow. You hurried to your apartment, and when you prepared all the snacks in front of the couch’s table you noticed your red hair ribbon was missing. It probably fell inside the grocery store, you were about to go back  and ask if they had it but the sound of  a ring on the door pulled your attention and you forgot about it. 

“Taehyung!” you greeted happily, letting  him in. 

“I got you this…” he said shyly  after taking out a small gift package. It was a heart shaped hair pin and it was red, your favorite color. You wore it proudly and turned on the tv, ready to enjoy the comfort of his company. 

Taehyung was a good boy, very nice and kind. He was also a scholarship student, but he was from around, so he didn’t really have a problem blending in and being invisible. You met on your weekly sessions with the school psychologist to check on your process of adapt to the school. You would sit  next to each other, waiting for the psychologist to say your name or his and have your fifteen-minute chat. 

The first weeks he was very quiet, wearing his headphone and watching you from  the corner of his eyes but not talking. You started to feel he was into you when he smiled for a fraction of second when you appeared. One day you became bold and asked him what was he listening, he took his headphones off and put them on you. He was listening to jazz, fancy and old. 

Taehyung knew a little bit of what Jimin and his friends were doing to you because he has seen the bruises on your skin, but you didn’t want him to get involve since him and Jimin had the same age they shared most of the classes. 

“You can’t keep living like this, __” Tae said, seeing the new bruise Chanwook left on your left arm. 

“It’s nothing”

“If you want me I can make a police file, start an investigation” his dad was a police officer, so it made sense his savior complex was a heritage.

“Let’s not talk about that, let’s watch a movie” and both of you started to eat and relax, you even let him kiss you when the movie was over. Sweet and gentle, his hands were on  your cheeks and your cheeks only, like the gentleman he was. 

You forgot about the ribbon, but on the other side of the city Jimin tied it up to his wrist and hid it underneath his shirt sleeve, kissing it and touching it because he had something that belonged to you. It angered him how this was the closest he would ever get to you, if he wasn’t such an asshole and could be more like you, kind and trustworthy. 

The thing with Jimin was that he knew what was going on between you and him, and he wasn’t stupid. He knew that he wanted you, he craved you badly and everyday being far from you was harder and harder. But Jimin had issues, he never learnt how to be friendly, everything was handed to him easily and even his friendships were attached to him under a specific desire they wanted from him. His money, his connections, his power, sex. 

No one had ever been real to him, not even his own father, who ignored him and despised him ever since he could remember. Ever since his mother left the two and broke their family; the hate was mutual though. Jimin hated his father as much as his father hated him, it was fine, he had an entire school ready to lick his shoes. 

Until you came. So bright and sweet. 

You, with your generous curves and your red lipstick, red nails, and red converse. It was the perfect color for you because every time he pictured you, he saw you in red satin sheets. Red, the color of sex and violence. The color for passion and blood. He watched you from afar the first week after you arrived, and he noticed you were kind and open, gifting your smiles and your laughs to everyone who would look in your direction, but not him. You weren’t interested in him, mainly because no one had told you who he was or maybe you did knew and simply didn’t care. 

He found your presence insulting and likable. And if it wasn’t confusing enough already, you gifted him a strawberry milk bottle after he started to bother you, that got him off the waterline, destabilized him and made him sink. The reality of his horrible persona hit him like a truck, and to this new sensation of warmness and affability he responded with the only way he knew: hurting  you. 

Every day he saw your kind eyes lose their shine and become angrier, bitter. They would light up just when he showed up in front of you, with hate and resentment and for the first time in his life someone was looking at him with realness. He was the cause of a real emotion behind someone’s gaze, and he found that amazing. 

Why couldn’t he just say hello like a normal nineteen-year-old? No, the only way he could show you how much he wanted you was hurting you and haunting you, making sure you would never try to cross that line of goodness ever again with him, but also having you close enough he could consume your mind and your days, making him the only thing you could think of. Because the most similar thing to love was hate, and he wanted you to hate him with all your heart. 

You walked down the aisle, your eyes following the book’s spine, looking for the one you were needing for your essay. You previously had asked the librarian to add you to the waitlist for that specific book, since your school only had one copy of it and it was highly requested. According to the date, the book should be free for you now.

You knelt down to keep looking at the title when a noise pulls you out of your thoughts, the sound of two mouths crashing together and the clicks of tongues came to you from your left and before you could stop yourself you looked in that direction. There he was, the person you hated the most on this planet earth, kissing a blonde girl.

His hands were all over her body, he was facing the hallway and her back was all you could see of her. She had her hands on his black hair and his were moving up and down her thighs, and you recognized him just with one look at his hands. The same hands that would throw your books to the floor, the same hands that had push you and the same hands that pointed at you mockingly.

You didn’t want to see Park Jimin making out with someone, even when you found unbelievable he had the ability to feel something pleasing, you would have swear that man could only feel anger and bitterness inside him, but something about the way he was kissing her kept you interested. He opened his eyes, and without breaking the kiss, he smiled when he recognized you, eyeing you during the kiss.

You could tell his eyes shone with that devilish light of his, and his performance during the hook up got heavier. You collected yourself, remembering your task of finding the book and leave the hell out of there, but the book wasn’t there. There was an empty spot where it was supposed to be, and just when you were about to stand go with the librarian the monster spoke.

“Enjoying the show, little mouse?” his out of breath voice was raspy and profound, he was turn on.

“No, I came here looking for a book as the rest of the people here, this is a library not a motel” you pretend to keep searching even when you knew the book wasn’t there, just to not look at him.

“Oh, wouldn’t it be this book the one you want?” the irony leaking on his voice made you turn around and watch his hand wave a small book, it was indeed The Art of Loving by Erich Fromm.

“Give it to me!” you shouted almost forgetting you were in  a library and someone staring at you with disgust.

“Oh, you want this?” and he shove the book underneath his white buttoned shirt “Sorry, you will have to look for it” the blonde girl laughed at you and Jimin remembered she was there; it always pissed him off how he forgets about other women easily when you are near, it makes his blood burn. You shouldn’t have that much power and being unconscious about it. 

“Get out.” he said to the blonde one, and she widened  her eyes in  surprise “I said get out.” and he pushed her away, he didn’t even let her utter a word while  he was picking  her backpack from the floor and throwing  it to her. 

She ran out of the library and you followed her with your eyes until she disappeared because you were as confused as her; maybe Jimin was indeed a mentally unstable person, you had no other explanation for his abrupt mood swings. 

He stared at you in silence, fascinated with your legs showing off down the uniform skirt in your kneeled position. He walked towards you, grabbing your chin roughly with his fingers. 

"Didn't you wish it was you in  her place?" He speaks, his breathy voice crashing with your face and he smelled like cigarettes and coca-cola "Didn't you want to be praised by me instead of bullied?" 

"I'd rather be your victim than your friend, you're disgusting Jimin, I would do whatever it takes to free myself from you" you spat and before you could add how much you hated him because he grabs you by the neck and forces his mouth on  yours. You protest, your hands on his chest trying to push him away but he's bigger. 

"Whatever it takes, uh?" He repeated, his lips moving above yours, the tip of his nose touching your cupid's arch and his eyes fixated in yours, "so will you be my slave?" 

"You're sick" you responded, trying to push him away, but the harder you tried the strongest his hold was. "I can't believe there's people who genuinely like you"

"You make me sick, one glance at you and I want to throw up"

“Why did you kiss me then? Why don’t you leave me alone?”

“Because I love charity” he smiled, actually finding his own joke funny  "I'm making you a favor just by looking you right in the eye." 

"You are the one who's salivating every time you look at me, Jimin, I'm starting to feel you're in love with me" the voice of the two was starting to get loud, and neither of you noticed when the librarian appears in the hallway. 

"The two of you, I must pleat you to keep the sound low if necessary for you to keep talking, this is a library not the school yard, you can't be shouting in here" the librarian looked at the two of you with stress, and when she notices that it was Jimin himself, her face features softens. 

"Mrs. Chester, he has the book that I reserved for this week, and I need it to finish my essay, I reserved it last week" you defend yourself. 

"Mrs. Chester, I believe we can make an exception per se, and share the book since I need it as well, I'm pretty sure you will understand and any complain about this incident can be notified with my father" he spoke to her with that petulant tone he loved to use, and the old woman opened her eyes impressed at his subtle warning. 

"Miss ___ and I got the book issue covered" he continued. 

"Okay, I'll leave it to you then, keep the tone low" and she walked faster to her place again. 

"Give me the book" you said once again in between your teeth.

"You said 'whatever it takes' and we are about to see how far you're willing to go to set yourself free from me, meet me at the lab at four" and he picked his backpack from the floor and leave you in the library's hallway, scared and hesitant. 

Jimin’s pulse was out of control, on the outside he might seemed relax and nonchalant, as he usually was, but if you paid attention to him you could notice his right hand shaking with need. The same hand that grabbed your chin and pulled your neck closer to him. He was shaking nervously like a virgin, his body excited and hard with the pure action of connecting his lips together. 

The whole morning he kept looking at the clock, wishing the hands would point at four magically. When his last class was over, he picked his stuff ignoring his group of friends speak to him and rushed to the lab. 

You weren’t there, but he would give you time, a couple of minutes, a couple of hours, all the time you needed. He knew you wanted the book and that you also wouldn’t turn down a good fight with him. Hopefully he didn’t wait too long before you and your red aura appeared in front of him, stealing a smirk from his face. 

You hated when Jimin smiled, if God was on your side he would have made him ugly, but the heavens saw in you a victim as well and made him awfully pretty. 

“You came” he spitted trying to hide how happy he was. 

“You have the book, what else could I do?” and you dropped your backpack to the floor, sitting on the first seat of the lab. He was leaning on the teacher’s desk, standing. He stared at you for a while, that day you were wearing a red beret and cherry earrings; sometimes he hated himself for harming such a cute thing like you. 

“What do you want?” you asked exhausted under his scrutiny. 

“How was your date?” he asked, and you frowned confused, why would he be asking that? “You know, the date you told me you had yeste…”

“Yes, I know what date you’re talking about, but why would you ask about that?” 

“Because I want to know.” 

“Why?”

“I want to know who’s my little mouse’s new friend” there it was, the evil glint in  his eyes made its entrance and somehow you felt scared that he found out it was Taehyung. Jimin was volatile and extreme, and you regretted the idea of ever coming, he can keep  the book you could try to replace it with another one. 

“You know what? this is bullshit, you can keep the book” you bended to pick your backpack from the floor but he was faster and he took it away from you, you jump to him trying to reach his extended arm where he had your bag “Give me that! Give me my stuff!”

“Give me a kiss” his voice was raspy, and with every little jump you did his nose was flooded with your smell. Cherry blossom and lemon. 

“You’re sick, Jimin, I won’t give you shit”

“First of all, you already told me that and second, you already gave me that. I’m just asking for another” he laughed at your piss expression, so out of your boxes, so his. You tried to jump over him once more, but you tripped over the desk, falling above him. He catches you by grabbing you by the hips and when you hurried to get off him, he captures you left arm. 

You moaned in pain, the bruise in your forearm still new palpitated when Jimin hold you there and he notice something was wrong underneath the uniform’s shirt. He rolled up your shirt’s sleeve and saw the yellow and purple spot on your skin. It could have been that you fall off or tripped, but it had the shape of a hand. 

“What happened to you?” he asked, his amuse was gone and it was replace with… Concern? Anger? Great, you must be experiencing head trauma because you were starting to get delusional.

“Nothing, it’s nothing. I’m starting to get tired of people asking me what happened when it’s obvious” you pulled your arm away from his hand, rolling your sleeve back. 

“You’re lying, tell me who did that” he demanded, and you laughed outraged, how dared he? 

“Who did this? You’re asking who did this?” He swallowed when he saw your tired and ironic face, a mix of bitterness and exhaustion that didn’t belong to your sweet features. “Your friends!” you shouted while pointing at him, shaming on him “Your gang of sadistic dogs did this to me! How dare you to ask me as if they don’t act according to your orders?”

“I never told them to hurt you” he stated and for the first time his voice wasn’t sarcastic or mocking, it was simply neutral and serious “I’ve never harmed you physically, I never told them to-“

“You don’t have to, Jimin, when you’re not around they chase me and torture me just because you hate me, the whole school knows it, even the teachers. It’s implicit that they hit me and push me because of you” you let it all out, shouting to him with all your strength, breathing heavily after you’re done and adding “So, if you have a little bit of human decency, you will not ask me obvious questions.”

“Was it Chanwook?” he gave you your backpack and you snatched it from his hands. 

Your silence was his answer. 

Chanwook’s nose bleed and splashed on Jimin’s uniform jacket. 

“Who asked you to hurt her like that?” Jimin shouted in  his ear, the parking where  he made his friend go was empty, no witnesses around.

“I thought- I thought you would find it funny” he said breathless, his hands trying to crawl away from Jimin’s fist, but the asphalt scraped his palms and Jimin’s expensive boot kicked him on the stomach, feeling his ribs crack.

“I checked her medical record, her five-day inability wasn’t because she fell, was it?” he grabbed Chanwook’s head by his hair, pulling it harshly like Chanwook himself had done many times with your hair.

“Is not a big deal, dude. You were the one who started it all, we just followed you.” 

“What did you do to her?” and Jimin’s foot connected again to his knee. 

“I- I pushed…” Chanwook couldn’t talk, the pain making him howl. 

“What did you do?!” Jimin shouted very close to his ear, losing his patience, his hand getting more intense on his hair.

“I pushed her head to a locker twice, I wanted to see how many times she could take it until she passed out.” 

Jimin saw red. The blood of his eyes expanding on his sight and his sadistic side came out. He pushed Chanwook’s head to his car door twice, but he didn’t pass out. 

“I like this game too, we are going to see how many time you can take it until you pass” Jimin hit his head three more times, but apparently the head of that scumbag was made of titanium cause when he dropped him,  the fucker could still walk. Slow and dizzy, but his shivering knees  made him stand up. 

“Why did you do it?” Jimin asked, lighting up a cigarette and taking off his jacket. He had his sleeves rolled up, and your red ribbon showed on his wrist making him smile “Why would you hurt her like that?” 

“For the same reason as you.” Chanwook answered and Jimin froze “Because I want her.” 

“You want her.” He repeated, the fury accumulating on his burning chest and his butchered knuckles. That was the straw that broke the camel's back.

Chanwook knew Jimin was pissed already, so if he was already fried, why wouldn’t he break it to him? He couldn’t hurt him more. 

“Sorry for being the one telling you, but your mouse he has a nice pair of legs, I like to harm her and then I go to jerk-“ Chanwook couldn’t end the sentence because Jimin was tackling him, pushing down to the floor again. His fist went down to his face repeatedly. When Jimin stood  after getting tired, he made sure Chanwook was still breathing. He was, unfortunately.

“It’s little mouse, idiot.” 

He called the police anonymously, saying there was a student being attacked on the parking lot. Jimin took out his belongings to make it seem like an assault and knelt before leaving the place to warn his friend. 

“You will leave the school, get transfer, drop out of high school I don’t care, but if I see you tomorrow morning there you will suffer. You will say people attacked you and stole from you, not a word of this. And if I see you near her, if you dare to talk to her, to breath in her direction, I will come for you just like I have done for everybody who ever disobeyed me, do you understand?”

Chan’s swollen face couldn’t articulate a word, Jimin rolled his eyes to the disgusting scene. 

“Blink if you heard me and understand.” 

Chan blinked, and Jimin stand, ready to walk to his car, murmuring to himself “Why do people mess with what is mine?” 

The reunion you had with Jimin a couple of days ago left you anxious and uneasy, especially because you haven’t seen Chanwook and the others haven’t mess with you. You walked down the hallway and got to your locker and when you unlocked the door you find a brand-new copy of The Art of Loving, a red gift bow and a card adorning the edition.

No God, please. Don’t let it be from Jimin. 

You opened the card and read on his unmatched calligraphy.

“ ‘Is love an art? Then it requires knowledge and effort’. I will put effort, little mouse, and show you how artistic I can be. Jimin.” 

You were disgusted with his silly words. Was this a prank? It must be, three days ago Jimin was making fun of you because the shirt was too tight to your breasts and he could see the line of your bra, his friends also pointing at the softness of your flesh. 

You didn’t need the book anyways, you bought it on E-book and your essay was almost finish so you threw  it in the garbage, pretending that incident didn’t happened and moving on to your next class. You were unaware that from the other side of the hallway, near to the cleaning closet Jimin was watching you. Confused and sad with the scene of you hating his gift.

Why did you throw it away? 

The rest of the week was awfully peaceful for you. There was no sign of Chan, and Meeyon and the other idiot stopped messing with you. When they would saw you in  the hallways or the yard, they would walk away as if you were infected with something dangerous and contagious. They would not even look in  your direction. You were afraid they were gathering strength to finally come for you and beat you really hard. 

Jimin on the other hand was losing his mind. He has been watching you from afar, and he notice that the shine you initially had was coming back to your eyes, and he wasn’t the reason for it. He followed you after classes for almost a week, and he didn’t see any  trace of this alleged date guy you told him. 

He was starting to think you invented it to make him mad, to catch his attention because you craved him as much as he craved you. He was about to leave the coffee shop where you were reading, when a guy appeared next to you and you stood up and greet him with a kiss. 

A kiss. The kiss you didn’t wanted to give to him. 

His jaw clenched and his fist gripped  his car’s wheel containing his anger. You were not lying, you had someone. He narrowed his eyes, trying to see who he  was, and then he gets a glimpse of his eyes and recognize  him, it was a shy boy that always sat at the end of the class, the last seat. What was his name? Taesoo? Taejoon? 

Taehyung. Kim Taehyung.

He watched the two of you a little longer, seeing how you were calm and sweet with him. Punching him in the arm playfully, laughing, covering your mouth when he said something funny, sharing a damn slice of cake.  Cherry cake.  

The next day he decided he would do what he did better. Intimidate you, extorting you.

He stood next to your locker, his backpack to the side and arms crossed on his chest. You appeared on the hallway with a strawberry scarf in your head and heart shaped earrings, a necklace matching your already annoying and stunning appearance.

“What do you want, Jimin?” you asked bothered with his only presence near you.

The truth with you was that you knew what was going on between you and him, his incessant tease, his subtle flirtation and his fixation with you. Deep down you prayed your intuition was wrong because if you could ignore his horrible personality and sadistic tendencies, you would be on your knees for Park Jimin.

Thankfully, you still were a reasonable and logic person, you could not ignore his flaws, and you truly felt disgust and resentment every time you saw him.

“I just wanted to check on my little mouse, how’s been your day?”

“It was all good, until you came and now it’s ruined” you responded, not even looking at him. You opened your locker and took your books out.

“Glad to hear that, no one has the right to ruin your day but me” he smiled discreetly “Has Meeyon and Junghae mess with you?”

You looked at him, briefly, surprised he was interested in your well-being.

“No, they haven’t, why?”

“Good.”

“Why?” you insisted “Did you tell them something?”

“I told them to stop, to not touch one strain of your hair” his eyes turned darker and narrowed, and your heartbeat raised to the perspective and the rare sensation of Jimin being… Protective?

“Thank you.” You couldn’t believe your words, thanking your abuser for doing the bare minimum, but not having those three around lifted a weight from your shoulders and made your days lighter “What happened with Chan...”

“You will not worry about him anymore; he got what he deserved.”

“What do you mean?” your voice shake anxiously.

“You won’t see him again.” Jimin smiled satisfied.

“What did you do to him?” you weren’t sorry for whatever happened to Chanwook, he was a despicable human being who liked and enjoyed pain from others, but you were not rejoicing on the fact he could have been harm because of you.

“Nothing he didn’t do to you. Don’t worry sweetheart, he got transferred, he will be fine” you didn’t like how Jimin’s voice was to mellow, as if you trusted on each other “Speaking of be fine, why don’t you come to my house this evening and work on your essay, I still have the book…”

“I can’t, I have plans already” you cut him, cursing your luck.

“With that Taehyung asshole?” he pushed closed your locker door, the sound of metal whipping down the hall, drawing attention.

“Who-?”

“I’ve done my research, all the people who are friends of my little mouse are also my friends.” His face was tainted with craziness and obsession, two things you evoked deeply in Jimin.

“Don’t hurt him.” Was the first thing that came out of your mouth. “I won’t” he leaned closer to your mouth “I won’t, unless you don’t do something for me” his lowered chest voice was velvety against your ear skin “Meet me at the lab at four, don’t be late little mouse.”

✔︎ TAGLIST: @tae-v-eat @whipwhoops @bunnyca @itachiswaify @sheylamc @samuelfortniteking @rkivewritersblog @mred435 @kthyg @jiminiemochisexybabe (my first taglist, i'm so excited 🤩)

✔︎ thvlouvre's p.s. you may already know this, but english isn't my first language, so be kind and understand, take care and stream Park Jimin 💋

I think i’ve never read a sub joon fic. Recommend me any good ones please 🥹