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belovedguk · 25 days

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burnout (jk)

summary: jeon jungkook asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend in order to get back at his ex-girlfriend. however, you soon realize his true intentions.

pairing: bball player!jungkook x student journalist fem!reader

genres: yandere, dark romance, slow burn

author’s note: this is a repost or burnout chapters 1-3 + a bonus sneak peek from chapter 4 from my deleted account, aikastales, for easy viewing. it is still on hold. minors do not interact. no warnings for this specific part.

total word count: 10k

PART ONE

Why was Jeon Jungkook at the Communications building?

He had a red and white leather jacket on top of a white shirt, jeans, and his black combat boots. His long hair was a mess, which you guessed was due to his helmet, and when he saw you walking down the steps of the building, he perked up, smiled, and waved at you.

At first, you weren’t even sure if it was you he was waving at, so you were a bit stunned, and looked over your shoulder. But then, you heard your name called by him. You and Jungkook were not friends. Sure, you exchanged friendly nods at each other whenever your paths would cross, but that was the end of it. In fact, the only reason why you even exchanged those friendly nods was because of Taehyung—your cousin who also happened to be his best friend since preschool. If it wasn’t for him, you and Jungkook would just pass by each other without so much as a glance.

And so, it was only natural that you were confused and surprised when you saw him leaning against his motorcycle in front of your college’s building, apparently waiting for you.

“Y/N, hey,” Jungkook greeted with a smile on his handsome face once he was near you.

Still confused, you returned the smile, adjusting the strap of your backpack hanging over your shoulder. “Hi, Jungkook. Is everything okay?”

He nodded. “Yeah, everything is—everything’s fine,” he said. Then, he cleared his throat. “Do you have time like right now? My treat.” He asked, his doe eyes piercing into yours.

You could not believe what you just heard. “What?” Was all you could reply.

Jungkook chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck with his gloved hand. “I know. It’s a shock, right? Believe me, I am too, but I just really need to talk to you about something. I wouldn’t bother you if it wasn’t so important.”

“Is it about Taehyung? Is he okay? Did he get into trouble?” You asked, alert. It was the only logical answer why Jungkook waited for you and why he wanted to talk to you. Taehyung was the only person connecting the both of you.

Jungkook shook his head. “No, no, it’s not about Taehyung, but he’s fine. He’s in his class right now. Look,” he sighed deeply, licking his lower lip with the tip of his tongue before staring at you once more. “Yiseul, I just really need to talk to you. In private.”

You debated whether to go with him or not. This was Jeon Jungkook. Despite his tattoos, broad shoulders, piercings, and big bike—he was harmless. He was your cousin’s best friend, and even though you two weren’t friends, he looked like he needed one at the moment. Besides, you wouldn’t deny that a part of you wasn’t curious as to why he needed to talk to you. That and the fact that because you had been in love with him since you met him when you were thirteen, how could you say no to something that you had only imagined in your wildest dreams?

“Okay. Okay, let’s go,” you agreed, heart beating rapidly. “Where are we going?”

Jungkook’s smile widened when you agreed. “There’s a basement cafe twenty minutes from here. It’s called Seven.”

The both of you began making your way towards his motorcycle. “Just how private is this conversation going to be?” you asked supposedly only for yourself, but accidentally, you said it out loud.

“I guess you already have an idea on how private it needs to be considering the location,” he chuckled. “But don’t worry—I promise you’ll get home in one piece.”

Jungkook handed you his extra helmet, and you were thankful that you didn’t wear a dress that day. After placing your backpack in front of your chest, you wore the helmet. “Can you give me a hint on what it’s about?”

You couldn’t help it. You were curious.

“I remember you always being curious, Y/N. Glad you haven’t changed at all,” Jungkook said, mounting his motorcycle. “In twenty minutes, you’ll know. If you ride now, you’ll know in fifteen minutes.”

You thought he looked so attractive as he smiled and waited for you on his motorcycle. His smile was so infectious that you couldn’t help but to return it. “Alright, fine,” you say. Then, you mounted his motorcycle, placing your hands on his firm shoulders.

“Ready?” Jungkook asked, placing his key into the ignition, briefly glancing at you.

“Yeah, ready,” you replied. He started the engine and you held onto your backpack for dear life. You had seen Jungkook drive his motorcycle before and the only way you could describe it was fast.

“Alright. Let’s go.”

Jungkook drove off.

As promised, fifteen minutes later, you arrived at Seven. It was indeed a basement cafe, secluded from the busy city streets and tucked in between fruit stands and ready-to-wear clothes inside an alley. You were the first to get off his motorcycle, taking your helmet off. Shaking your head, you took in your surroundings while Jungkook took his motorcycle garments off.

The alley was alive with mostly elderly people buying fruits and high schoolers buying the RTWs. The tangerines stood out due to their bright color against the setting sun. You wondered when and how Jungkook came to know the place, if he frequented it, why he chose this place over all other cafes.

“Y/N? Let’s go inside?” Jungkook asked, gesturing to you to enter the cafe first.

You nodded, entering Seven. As a basement cafe, the first thing you noticed were the windows placed near the ceiling. A permanent sepia hue covered the entire establishment due to its yellow orange lights. The walls were painted gray, tables and chairs white. There were only a few tables and chairs, and Jungkook led the way to the one at the very back.

He pulled the chair out of you which you thanked him for, and you sat down. Jungkook followed afterwards, placing the helmets on the table between the both of you.

“What do you want?” He asked, pulling his chair closer to the table.

“Honestly, I’m more curious on why you want to talk to me than have any drinks here,” you told him, placing your backpack on the floor beside your chair.

Jungkook chuckled, leaning his back against his chair. “Alright. Should I just say it?”

You nodded.

“I was hoping that you’ll pretend to be my girlfriend to make Haemin jealous,” Jungkook said so casually that you were completely and utterly stunned. Did you just hear him correctly? Upon seeing your reaction, he continued, “She broke up with me a month ago, and to be honest, I saw it coming already. We were getting into a lot of meaningless fights, always finding faults in one another, and just overall, being toxic to each other. So, when she broke up with me, I did not put up a fight, and just let her be,” Jungkook scoffed, shaking his head lightly. “Then, I learned that she was seeing Han Riyeo, that fucking bastard from Yongsan, behind my back for three months, and I want to get back at her.”

His explanation did not help you grasp what he just said previously. You were still stunned, but you managed to ask, “Why me?”

“For reasons I still don’t know, Haemin was always jealous of you,” he confessed.

Now, that was a surprise. “What? You and I barely had any interaction.”

“I know, but I suspect it’s because you’re there whenever I hang out with Taehyung,” Jungkook shrugged his shoulders, then ran his fingers through his hair. “So? Will you help me, Y/N?”

“This is pretty childish, don’t you think?” you told him, eyebrows furrowed.

Jungkook crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ll pay you. I know you need the money. Taehyung mentioned you’re saving for the deposit on this apartment you want to rent.”

You stared at him, trying to find any trace of mischief in his eyes and body language but found none. Jungkook was serious. A part of you knew that the logical answer would be to decline his offer. It was childish, as you had told him. It was a nuisance and it would do nothing but bring problems and complications in your life. Your life was complicated enough, and you didn’t need to add Jeon Jungkook’s fake girlfriend to your list of complications.

But this was Jeon Jungkook. The person you had been in love with since you were thirteen. The person you supported, cheered on, and loved unconditionally from afar because it was all that you could do. You would be lying if you said that you did not imagine yourself being his girlfriend—going to every game, wearing his jersey, riding his motorcycle, going on dates, taking lots of photos and videos of him, hugging, and even kissing him—because you did, countless times. You would also be lying if you didn’t think that you could love him better than Haemin ever did.

They said love makes you do crazy things. You didn’t think that applied to you. You loved Jeon Jungkook, and you didn’t think that that love would fade anytime soon. So, even though you knew that this was pretend and paid, you said, “Okay. I’ll do it.”

After your orders arrived, the both of you continued your conversation.

“So, how will this work?” you asked, sipping your iced chocolate drink.

Jungkook put up a finger, chewing the cheeseburger he ordered, and afterwards, he replied, “We act like a couple. Go on dates, post them on social media, and all that.”

You were never someone who did things half-assed. If you were going to get paid to fake date someone, you might as well go all out. Also, perhaps, a part of you just wanted to make the most out of being Jeon Jungkook’s fake girlfriend.

“I don’t think that would be enough to make Haemin jealous. If you really want that, we should do the things you either only did with her or promised to do with her,” you pointed out.

Jungkook nodded. “I see. You got a point.”

“So, what are those things? The things you did for her and the things you promised to do with her?”

He inhaled deeply, scratching the side of his nose as he thought. “Well, I pick her up everyday. Take her out on picnic dates, study with her, and I go to her recitals.”

You nodded. “Okay. Then, you should pick me up everyday, take me out on picnic dates, study with me, and well, I don’t really do any recitals.”

“Alright. I’ll do that,” Jungkook grinned. “As for the things I promised to do with her—the first thing that popped in my mind was that I promised I’ll take her to my brother’s wedding.”

“We shouldn’t involve our families in this. Me being Taehyung’s cousin is complicated enough,” you remarked.

“Okay. How about this? We made plans to go out of town during winter break. Do you wanna do that?”

“Where?”

“My sister-in-law runs a small resort in Busan. It’s by the beach,”

You pressed your lips together, nodding. “Okay. That could work.”

“For my part, you have to go to my games. That’s pretty much all you have to do, and of course, the dates.”

“That’s already a given,” you told him. “I’m assigned to cover your games this season.”

“Right. You are the News editor of the Times. I’m honored,” Jungkook placed a hand on his chest, bowing his head at you.

You chuckled, shaking your head. “I have a question.”

“Go for it.”

“What will happen when Haemin gets jealous? Will we “break up” and the two of you will get back together?” you asked, cautiously, but also curiously.

“I have no plans of getting back together with her,” Jungkook answered. “But when she finally gets jealous and tells me about it, then revenge is served. I guess then we’ll break up. But don’t worry, I’ll pay you handsomely every time so you could move into that apartment of yours. It’s the least I could do after you agreed to do this with me.”

It shouldn’t have stung the way it did. After all, this was only paid and pretend, but it did.

“Alright,” you said. “We should shake hands on it.”

You extended your hand toward him and Jungkook sealed the deal with his firm handshake. “Starting today, you’re my girl, Y/N.”

You would be the first to admit that looking after Kim Taehyung was something you did out of debt of gratitude toward his parents. After your father passed away when you were only eleven years old, your mother couldn’t afford to send you to school, so his parents financed your education since then and until now that you were in college. You lived with Taehyung at the condominium they bought for him near the university and since you were on scholarship through your membership at the official student publication of Jamsil University, The Jamsil Times, they only paid for your miscellaneous fees every semester.

Because of these, you felt like Taehyung was your responsibility. You had to take care of him, look after him, tutor him, make sure he did all his school work, attend his classes, and be there every time he asked you to. It felt like when it came to him and his parents, you couldn’t say no because if you did, you could easily lose your housing and education.

It didn’t help that Taehyung seemed to attract trouble wherever he was. He even gained a nickname for it in high school which followed him in college, “Trouble Taehyung.” You couldn’t remember the times you apologized on his behalf, woke up in the middle of the night from a call from one of his so-called friends asking if you could pick him up as he was drunk and bruised, and ensured none of his troubles reached his parents.

Tonight was no different.

You woke up from the sound of your phone vibrating against your desk. You didn’t realize that you had fallen asleep, studying for your upcoming midterms exam, and when you woke up, you could feel the soreness of your neck and lower back. With one eye open, your vision adjusted to the bright light coming from your phone, and saw Park Jimin’s name flashing on your screen. Immediately, you knew why he was calling you. There could only be one reason: Kim Taehyung.

“Hello?” your voice was hoarse, groggy from your slumber.

“Y/N? I’m sorry I woke you up, didn’t I? It’s—,”

“Taehyung, I know. What happened this time?” you sighed deeply, rubbing your face with your free hand. “Where are you guys?”

“He got into an argument with this guy, and well, it led to a fight. He’s bruised, bleeding, but he refuses to go to a hospital, but—,”

“Hey! Is that Y/N? I told you not to call her, Park Jimin!” you could hear Taehyung’s voice in the background which made you sigh once more. Moments later, it was Taehyung who was on the call with you. “Y/N, sorry. Don’t worry about me. I’m fine. Jimin’s just a worry wart.”

“Taehyung,” you were tired and it was evident in your tone. “Go to the hospital if you’re bleeding. It might get infected.”

“I can’t,” he replied. “Mom is going to find out. It’s a small world, you know that,” his tone was low, cautious, as though he did not want anyone else hearing him. “I’m fine. I’ll put on some ointment and band-aid and I’m good.”

You wished you didn’t give a shit about him. But you did. Whether it was out of debt of gratitude or not, you wouldn’t be able to sleep if you didn’t help him. Perhaps, you had gotten so used to it that it had become a part of you already, like a hobby, like a memory.

“Where are you, Taehyung?”

“Y/N, seriously, I’m—,”

“Taehyung, just tell me where you are,” your patience was wearing thin and Taehyung knew that.

“We’re at Jungkook’s apartment,” he muttered.

Even the mention of his name was enough for the butterflies in your stomach to go crazy. Even by just hearing his name, your irritation seemed to slowly fade away.

“Okay. I’ll be there in a while. I’m gonna use your car, okay?”

“Okay. Y/N, I’m sorry,” Taehyung apologized and you could hear his sincerity.

“Don’t be,” you told him as you stood up from your chair. “See you. I’ll hang up now.”

Just how deep does blood run?

You were at Jungkook’s apartment minutes later, thanks to no traffic and him only living fifteen minutes from Taehyung’s condominium. When you rang the bell to his unit, you already expected that he would be the one to answer the door. You just didn’t expect that he would be wearing gray sweatpants and a white loose muscle tee showing off his toned tattooed arm. Seeing him in that light, you couldn’t help but feel more attracted to him. Jungkook was truly a sight to see.

“Hey,” he greeted you with a smile. “Come inside.”

“Thanks,” you told him, entering his apartment. It was simple, neat, and smelled of vanilla. You took off your shoes by the doorway, placing a hand on the wall beside you. “Where’s Taehyung?”

“Kitchen,” he replied behind you. “Y/N,” his hot breath fanned over your exposed neck, making you shiver. “I’ll linger around you, alright? That way, they could get a hint that something’s going on with us. Is that okay?” he whispered.

His low tone was simply mesmerizing. “Okay,” you breathed out. Thank god you had your hand on that wall otherwise you would have literally fallen.

“Okay,” he chuckled, and led the way to the kitchen.

“Y/N!” Taehyung exclaimed when he saw you. He was sitting on one of the stools in the kitchen island while Jimin looked through the refrigerator.

You gave him a tight-lipped smile and made your way toward him, placing the plastic bag you hand in your hand on the counter beside you. Taehyung jumped off the stool he was sitting on, instantly giving you a squeezing hug. He was always an affectionate boy growing up. You weren’t so you found it uncomfortable at first. But the more Taehyung did it, you got used to it.

“Let me see your bruise,” you guided him back to the stool, and began taking out the first aid you bought along the way. The bruise wasn’t as serious as you thought it would be. You were expecting that he would have a black eye, a deep cut that would need stitches, but it was manageable by you. Jimin was overreacting, you concluded. “What happened? How did you get this?”

As you began to clean the cut on Taehyung’s cheek, Jimin sat down across from your cousin while Jungkook made his way near you.

“One minute I was dancing next to some girl, the next, her boyfriend landed a punch on my face. I didn’t know she had a boyfriend—she told me she was single,” Taehyung explained.

“Didn’t know my ass,” Jimin scoffed. “Everyone knows Heejin is with Taemin. Everyone also knows that Taemin’s a crazy jealous bastard. You were just looking for trouble, as always.”

“I was not,” your cousin retorted, throwing the medical tape you bought at his friend.

You clicked your tongue in annoyance. “Stop it, you two,” you hissed, pressing the cotton ball a bit harder against Taehyung’s bruise. He winced. “Is that true?” you asked him.

Taehyung didn’t answer. You sighed.

“You knew it was wrong, and yet, you did it anyway knowing it’ll just get you in trouble,” you muttered. “Why did you do it?”

Taehyung sighed deeply. “Because Taemin’s a piece of shit.”

“You’re also a piece of shit,” Jimin snorted. “Both of you are the biggest pieces of shit at Jamsil.”

“Do you wanna get punched?”

“Let’s go right now,”

“Hey, stop it. You’re so fucking loud,” Jungkook reprimands the two bickering men. “You already woke me up from my sleep by going here. Don’t wake up the entire fucking building.”

Moments later, you finished tending to Taehyung’s cut. “All done. Come on, let’s go home.”

Taehyun didn’t protest. You began to clean up your mess, placing everything back into the plastic bag. Silence filled Jungkook’s kitchen. The three of you weren’t close so there were no conversations where all of you could participate.

“Let’s go,” you bowed your head at Jimin as a farewell which he returned. Then, your eye caught Jungkook’s gaze. You weren’t sure what to do. Fortunately, Jungkook was quick-witted.

“I’ll walk you guys out,” he said coolly, pushing himself off of the sink he was leaning against.

“No need. Just go back to sleep. Thanks for letting us in,” Taehyung shook his head, patting his best friend’s shoulder as he passed by him.

“I insist,” Jungkook responded.

“Can I stay here tonight?” Jimin asked Jungkook as he made his way out of the kitchen.

“Yeah sure,”

You followed Jungkook and Taehyung out of the former’s apartment. As you and your cousin slipped on your shoes, Jungkook waited outside his apartment.

“Are you mad at me?” Taehyung asked, meeting your gaze. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“I’m not mad at you,” you assured him. “But you have to stop involving and getting yourself into trouble, Tae. Sooner or later, you’ll end up getting really hurt.”

“I will, I promise,” he smiled at you and you nodded, exiting the apartment.

The three of you walked down the hallway; the two boys walking on your sides. You weren’t sure if Jungkook was consciously doing it, but it was making your heart pound. Whenever your fingers brushed against his, there was an electric shock that flew through your body. And as you reached the end of the hallway and in front of the elevator, and when the doors opened, Jungkook placed his hand at your lower back, gesturing you to enter the lift first.

You looked at him, and there was a knowing smile plastered on his face that made you blush. “After you,” he said.

You were fucking lovestruck.

Championships cast a spell in your school. Jamsil University’s premier sport was basketball and with an all-star lineup this year—it was not even up for discussion that your university would be one of the teams playing out to become this year’s champions.

To say the least, sports were not your thing. While you understood the basics, it wasn’t something you were interested in. Your father had enrolled you in a tennis class once but after witnessing how, simply out, awful you are at the sports, he dropped the ‘I want my daughter to be athletic’ narrative he was going for. That being said, you rarely attended any of the games Jamsil athletes participated in. But seeing as you were assigned to cover the basketball games this season, you had no other choice. Besides, your “boyfriend” was playing.

That’s how you found yourself at the gym of Jamsil, stressed as you took pictures and typed down the game on your phone. Frustrated, you sat on the bench behind you as the bell rang, signaling the end of the first half. As you read the draft on your notepad, you shook your head at the numerous times you used the word ‘tackle’—in your defense, it was all that you could see during the game. It was a particularly brutal game which made you wonder, was the game something more personal for the players? You only heard rumors, after all.

With a sigh, you made a mental note to fix the notes once you’re home. Standing up, you placed the phone inside your jeans’ back pocket and readied the Times’ camera to capture the ‘Half-time huddle’ that Bang Chan, the Sports Editor, had specifically asked you to take. As you made your way towards the basketball team, you took some shots of the audience as well as the Jamsil’s Cheerleading Team performing in the middle of the court. The blaring music and loud cheers from both schools as the cheerleaders performed filled the entire gymnasium, unconsciously making you smile. It was not everyday that you saw some sort of unity at your uni.

You focused your camera on the huddled team of Jamsil but dissatisfied, you tried another angle. Bang Chan’s words play in your mind: “The half-time huddle is one of the most important shots during these games, Y/N. The play they’re setting up will either make them or break them. Make sure you capture it.”

Then, the idea hit you. You hurriedly made your way on the other side of the team, hearing Coach Song’s booming voice telling his players the game even with all the screaming and cheers. You moved the towels and water bottles on the bench aside, then you stepped on it and placed the camera above the huddled team. Smiling, you knew you found the perfect angle. Making sure that the camera was focused, you inhaled deeply and as you were about to click the shutter button—a face turned to face the lens and a gasp escaped your lips, shocked and you felt yourself losing balance. Bracing for impact, you clutched the camera tightly against your chest and closed your eyes with one thing in mind: If this breaks, I am so screwed.

It felt like eternity as you waited for the impact. Opening your eyes, you see a pair of round brown eyes, staring at you in concern, eyebrows furrowed. Your breath hitched in your throat as realization hit you. Around your waist, you felt strong arms supporting you; hot breath fanned your face and you felt something liquid dripping on your forehead.

“Y/N, are you okay?” When he spoke, you immediately snapped back to reality and you wriggled yourself out of his grip—flustered and ground-swallow-me-up embarrassed. Your cheeks were burning as you collected yourself. “Y/N?”

It was as if the entire gymnasium had their focus on you and Jungkook.

“Jeon, what the fuck, get back here,” Coach Song hissed.

Fuck me, you thought as you cleared your throat. “Thanks,” you whispered to him.

Jungkook smiled—the boyishly charming smile that made you fall in love with him all those years ago. Then, he did something that made you fall in love with him all over again.

“Wish me luck, babe,” Jungkook said before wrapping his tattooed arm around your waist and placing a kiss on your cheek. “The game’s on, Y/N. No turning back now.”

You wished this was real. His kiss was real. But even if it wasn’t, indeed, there was no turning back now. The game had begun.

PART TWO

As predicted and expected, Jamsil won the championship. But instead of the student body celebrating the fourth championship in a row, apparently, the majority could only talk about you and Jungkook—specifically the kiss he gave you on the cheek. You had expected this, of course. After all, Jeon Jungkook was Jamsil University’s golden boy. He was popular, smart, and overall, an exemplary student who not only excelled in his sports, but in his academics as well. Moreover, he was also the president of the photography club.

What you didn’t expect was Taehyung lashing out at you. You expected him to be confused, baffled, in disbelief, but lashing out at you? You were confused, to say the least. Taehyung had never done it before.

After finishing covering the basketball game, you hurriedly made your way back to the Publication Office. Once there, you took off the camera around your neck, breathing heavily. With both your hands on your table, you hung your head low, squeezing your eyes shut, and letting yourself calm down. It was during this moment that the door at the office swung open and your cousin stepped in.

You looked at him over your shoulder and for the first time, you saw fury in his eyes.

“You’re dating Jungkook?” He asked. “Tell me the truth.”

With your lips pressed tightly, you nodded. Taehyung scoffed, tilting his head to the side, and shaking it in disbelief.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Y/N? You and Jungkook?” He pressed, taking a step towards you. “When did it start? How did it start? Why are you dating him?”

“I don’t really need to explain myself to you, Taehyung,” you told him. “Especially who I’m dating.”

“Yes, you do. You need to explain that to me,” he retorted.

“Why? Why do I need to explain it to you?”

“Because you’re dating my fucking best friend and you’re my cousin!” He exclaimed, catching you off guard as you flinched. When he saw this, Taehyung’s eyes softened. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to raise my voice at you. I just—I don’t get it.”

“What don’t you get?” you asked, turning to completely face him. “Why someone like me is with someone like him?”

“Y/N, that’s not what I mean,” Taehyung sighed deeply. “I just feel like—like the two most important people in my life betrayed me.”

You exhaled deeply. In a way, you could understand him. You could understand where he was coming from. But before you could respond, Jungkook appeared by the doorway of the office.

“Don’t get mad at her, Tae, it’s my fault for not telling you first,” Jungkook said. He was still in his jersey, covered in sweat, and one hand holding a bottle of red Gatorade. There was a towel hanging around his neck. He walked towards you, and when he stood beside you, he held your hand. “I’m sorry if you feel like we betrayed you. We just wanted to find the right time to tell you.”

“Right time,” Taehyung scoffed once more. “It didn’t look like it when you kissed her.”

Jungkook squeezed your hand. It sent a jolt throughout your body. “What was I supposed to do? My girlfriend was there,” Jungkook’s response only riled Taehyung more. Upon seeing this, the basketball player said, “Alright, alright, I’m sorry. But there’s nothing you could do or say that could make us break up, Tae. I’m sorry but you’re just gonna have to deal with it.”

“Can you fucking leave? I need to talk to Y/N privately,” Taehyung hissed, rolling his eyes.

This time, you cut Jungkook before he could reply. “It’s okay, Jungkook. I’ll see you after.” You looked at your fake boyfriend, smiling at him.

Jungkook looked like he didn’t want to leave so you squeezed his hand. He clicked his tongue, sighing. “I’ll change and meet you outside the building.” It wasn’t a question but a statement.

You nodded and once again, he pressed his lips against your cheek, making you blush but now, out of embarrassment because your cousin was literally in front of you. Taehyung groaned, throwing his head back. “Leave, Jeon Jungkook!” He exclaimed, pulling him off of you.

Jungkook chuckled before making his way out of the office.

Once he was out of earshot, Taehyung stepped closer towards you. “Y/N, you’re right—who you date is not something I should mind or dictate. But you’re my cousin and I care about you and I don’t want you to get hurt. Jungkook—he’s my best friend in the world and has been since we were little. I know him. So, the two of you together—I just can’t accept it.”

You didn’t know why you were feeling angry as the seconds passed. “We’re not asking for your blessing, Taehyung.”

“Y/N, you don’t understand. Jungkook may be charming and all that goody two shoes shit in front of everyone, but he’s trouble. You’re only setting yourself up for a lifetime of heartbreak,” your cousin shook his head. “Please. Date whoever you want; not just Jungkook.”

“I made up my mind, Tae,” you said, shaking your head. “I want to be with him and you can’t do anything about it. I’m gonna go home. I’m tired and exhausted. I know you’ll be going to the afterparty so please don’t get yourself into trouble. Take care, Tae.”

“Y/N,” he called out but you didn’t respond anymore. You just packed up your things. “Y/N, please.”

“See you at home, Tae,” you gave him a small smile before leaving the office.

Why was he so adamant that you don’t date Jeon Jungkook? This question popped in your head as you were making your way out of the Communications building. But you erased it in your mind—Taehyung was just shocked, probably weirded out too that his best friend and cousin were dating.

Why is he trouble? Another question propped in your mind.

You sighed deeply. All these questions would be answered when you meet with Jungkook as you made a mental note to ask him. For now, you just wanted to rest.

The buzzing sound of your phone vibrating against your desk woke you up from your slumber. With a groan, you sat up, stretching your arms wide, cracking your neck, and letting out a relieved sigh. You didn’t know when you fell asleep, but the last thing you remembered was fixing your planner. When you looked at the caller ID, Jungkook’s name flashed on the screen. For a moment, you were confused why he was calling you, and then it hit you.

I’ll change and meet you outside the building.

You quickly answered the call. “Jungkook, hey.”

“Y/N, are you okay? I waited for you outside the Comm building, but Taehyung said you went home. I’ve been trying to reach you,” Jungkook sounded concerned, in contrast to the sound of cheering and music in the background. He must have been at the afterparty already, you concluded.

“I’m okay,” you assured him. “I’m sorry. I was just tired so I went home. Are you at the afterparty?”

“Yeah,” he replied. “The guys dragged me to it, but it’s not really fun. Or maybe I’m just not in the mood. I’m glad you’re okay though. I was worried.”

Your heart fluttered yet again.

“I’m okay. Have fun at the afterparty,” you said, rubbing your eye with your knuckle.

“Y/N, I was hoping you could come tonight, here, at the afterparty, and start our agreement.”

Just like that, you were reminded of reality.

“Oh,” you replied, hoping you didn’t sound disappointed. “Um, I don’t know where that is.”

It was common knowledge that invitations for after parties at Jamsil for championships were only through word of mouth. Not everyone was invited. The only reason you knew of the location of the last three after parties were because of, again, your cousin Taehyung.

“It’s okay, I’ll come pick you up.”

“I don’t know what I should wear. I don’t go to a lot of parties,” you said, playing with the loose thread on the hem of the shirt you were wearing. It was a habit of yours whenever you were nervous—you needed to play with something whether it was your necklace, earrings, rings, sleeves, etcetera.

“It doesn’t matter. You look good in everything, Y/N. I’m serious,” Jungkook responded. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes, okay? Don’t worry too much about what to wear. Just wear what’s comfortable.”

“Okay. Drive safely, Jungkook.”

When the phone call ended, you were reminded of what tonight would be, and gone were the worries about what you should wear. Tonight was going to be the night you were going to officially begin helping Jungkook take his revenge on Haemin. You felt like throwing up.

You were hit by the reality, once again, of what this agreement was about. Jungkook wasn’t being sweet to you because he wanted to but because he needed to. He wasn’t inviting you to the afterparty because he wanted to but because he needed to. He was only talking to you because he was paying you. It was time for you to take things at face value. With that in mind, you began to change.

True to his word, Jungkook arrived fifteen minutes later. It was a whiplash when you saw him at the door, waiting for you instead of your cousin. Wearing a white Calvin Klein shirt tucked under his washed jeans, black combat boots, and his curly hair parted in the middle, he was nothing short of beauty even in the simplicity of his attire. In one hand, he was clutching a denim jacket.

“Hey,” he greeted as soon as you opened the door. “You look great, Y/N.”

You suppressed the urge to smile and just nodded. Stepping outside of Taehyung’s condominium unit, you avoided his gaze. “Let’s go.”

“Is everything okay?” he asked.

You nodded, clutching the strap of your messenger bag. “Everything’s fine. Let’s just go. Where’s the afterparty anyway?”

“Y/N,” Jungkook’s hand found its way gently around your wrist, stopping you on your tracks. “Seriously, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, Jungkook. I just really wanna get over this,” you said with a sigh.

“I don’t believe you,” he pointed out, still holding onto your wrist. “We don’t have to go to the afterparty if you don’t want to.”

“No, let’s go. Otherwise, how will you make Haemin jealous?” you stated, plastering a smile on your face even though you were anything but happy. “The sooner she gets jealous, the sooner she will want to be with you again, and the sooner I’ll get my deposit, and move out from here. The sooner everyone wins.”

There was an indescribable expression on Jungkook’s face. Although his grip on your wrist remained gentle, you could feel the tension brewing between the both of you.

“You’re right,” he muttered after a while. “Let’s get this over with.”

As expected, the afterparty was at a club. You hadn’t been to one but it was exactly as you expected a club to be. Packed with dancing college students, drinks everywhere, smoke in the air, suffocating you the moment you entered the establishment, blinding red, blue, green lights, and booming EDM and Top 40 hits songs blasting on the speakers. Jungkook led the way, holding your hand tightly, and you held his just as tight. You didn’t know where he was taking you, but you guessed that it was where Haemin would be. After all, she was the reason why you were here.

So, it was a surprise when you passed by her and her friends, and toward the staircase.

“Jungkook! Where are we going?!” you yelled over the loud music. .

Jungkook didn’t respond, but you knew that he heard you because he pulled you closer to him. And you let him lead you because it was him. You’d let him lead you anywhere if it meant being this close to him. Because no matter what you tell yourself—that this was all fake and pretend and paid—a part of you would always, always believe that he, in some way, reciprocated your feelings sincerely.

Jungkook passed by the people greeting him along the way until, finally, you reached the empty rooftop. Overlooking the city and its skylines, it was simply breathtaking. There were only broken benches, bottles of beers and discarded cigarette buds on the rooftop along with cracked pots of withered flowers. Here, Jungkook let go of your hand, reached for something from his denim jacket’s pocket—a pack of cigarette and lighter—and offered it to you.

“I don’t smoke,” you simply stated. It was news to you that he smoked. You knew athletes were forbidden due to health reasons, but you weren’t also naive that you didn’t think some did.

He nodded, picked one from the box, placed it in between his lips, lit it up, and began to smoke. You took a deep breath, and made your way toward the edge of the rooftop. Moments later, Jungkook was beside you.

“Tell me something I don’t know about you,” he said, the smell of cigarette strong, making you nauseous. But you didn’t tell him that.

You thought hard. Jungkook knew nothing about you besides being Taehyung’s cousin. It shouldn’t be that hard but it was, for some reason. And so, you said, “There’s really not much that you should know.”

To which he replied, “Oh, come on, there must be something,” He nudged your side slightly, letting out a chuckle as he took a long drag. “Don’t think too hard. Just tell me the first thing that comes to your mind.”

And so, you did. Before you knew it, you said, “I haven’t had my first kiss yet.”

“Seriously?” Jungkook asked, but it wasn’t in the disgusted, you’re-in-your-twenties-and-yet-you-haven’t-kissed-somebody kind of way. It was more of a genuine shock. Like it was the hardest thing in the world to believe in.

You chuckled, nodding. “I don’t know. I just feel weird about it.”

“But were there any instances where you came close to kissing somebody?” he pressed, flicking his cigarette.

“Of course, but when it came to it, I just couldn’t. It just didn’t feel…” you trailed off, unsure of what the right word was.

“Right?” Jungkook suggested and you nodded. “I see.”

“How about you?” you asked. “Tell me something I don’t know about you.”

“I want to be somebody’s first kiss, and that somebody happens to be you.”

He was the only one who could do it—cause your heart to do somersaults inside you while also making it beat so fast that you were afraid he would hear it. It was the way he stared at you at that moment, eyes flickering from your eyes which reflected the cityscape below you and the smoke from his cigarette to your parted lips, unsure of what to say from his revelation.

“Do you think it’d feel right if I kiss you, Y/N?”

And like always, your mind and heart screamed: this was Jungkook. Who else would you want to be your first kiss? Since you were thirteen, you had been in love with him. You only imagined this in your head, in your wildest dreams.

And so, you nodded, afraid that if you spoke, no words would leave.

Jungkook nodded too, and he crushed his cigarette on top of the edge of the rooftop. He stepped towards you, cupped your face, and for a moment, the world stood still. Closing your eyes, you waited for his lips to crash onto yours.

And when it finally did, it was nothing that you had ever imagined.

No sparks.

No fireworks.

It was simple, mundane, ordinary—it was a kiss.

You held onto Jungkook’s wrists as he deepened the kiss, and yet, there were still none of the romantic aspects that you thought would happen during your first kiss. Even when Jungkook moved his hands from your face and around your waist, nothing. It tasted so bitter due to the mix of nicotine and beer that he had.

But you didn’t mind. You were kissing Jeon Jungkook, your fake boyfriend, at a party, where all his peers were. And for that, your first kiss was still memorable.

Oh, how Jeon Jungkook twisted your world.

PART THREE

You had no recollection whatsoever of what happened last night; much less how you got back to your shared condominium unit with Taehyung. But if you were to guess, your cousin probably brought you home as you vaguely remembered him being at the afterparty—much to his chagrin that you came with his best friend. Other moments were like missing puzzle pieces. You only remembered flashes, and you groaned when you felt the throbbing in your temple became stronger.

Usually, you could hold your liquor better than this. In fact, this was the first time, in a long while, that you could remember having a hangover. Your mother was your drinking buddy—started drinking with you when you were a junior in high school, and although she shouldn’t have done that, you didn’t mind. Your mother was a great mother. Your mother was your best friend. Your mother was a great parent. Yes, she had her shortcomings, but who didn’t? Certainly not you. You remembered the first time she asked you to try Soju, and subconsciously, it brought a smile to your face, and a low chuckle to escape your lips. You made a mental note to text her later.

As you left your bed, there was a knock on your bedroom door. Knowing it was your cousin, you told him to come in while you fixed your bed, and looked for your phone in the process.

“Your phone’s in your bag,” Taehyung muttered as he stepped inside your room, and leaned against the wall of the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest. “I brought you home too. Jungkook wanted to, but he rode a motorcycle, and you were wasted. It wasn’t safe.”

You nodded in understanding. You figured out that much. Like what Taehyung said, your phone was indeed inside your bag. Quickly, you unlocked it, and checked your notifications. Some were just annoying spam emails, app notifications, and automated messages from your SIM provider, but there was one message that made your heart beat quickly due to panic that you didn’t even notice Jungkook’s message.

“Y/N, I need to talk to you,” Taehyung said.

“We will talk, but not right now, I’m late for my tutoring session, Tae,” you hurriedly told him as you texted your tutee that you would be late, but that you would come since it was his midterms next week.

“Y/N, I’m serious. I still don’t approve of you and Jungkook dating.”

You should have expected this. In the years you spent with Taehyung, you should have known that he wasn’t the type of person who could accept “no” as an answer, and not getting what he wanted when and if he wanted it. You thought it only applied to everything else in his life; apparently, it also applied to your dating life.

“Taehyung, haven’t we gotten over this? Who I date is not yours to dictate,” you shook your head, sighing deeply as you gathered everything you needed for your quick shower. You were definitely not going to attend your tutoring session dressed from last night, and smelling like beer and nicotine.

“Jungkook’s a piece of shit as a boyfriend, Y/N. He’s crazy possessive and he gets so fucking jealous. His charming persona is just that—a persona. I don’t want you to get hurt by him, Y/N, please.”

The desperation in his voice was evidently obvious. When you looked at him, you were unsure of what to say. How could he say that to his own best friend?

“If he’s like that—,”

“He is like that,”

“Then why are you still friends with him?” you asked, pointedly. When Taehyung couldn’t give you an answer, you nodded. “Right. I thought so. I’m going now, Tae. This conversation is over.”

When you arrived at Jamsil’s library, you were forty five minutes late to your session with Yang Jungwon, a freshman from your program, Journalism with a major in Investigative Reporting. You found him in your usual spot, writing away on his yellow pad while nodding his head along the music he was listening to. Inhaling deeply, you made your way toward him. When you were finally near him, you tapped on his shoulder, causing him to jump a little, but when he saw you—his deep dimpled smile appeared on his face.

Yang Jungwon was like the little brother you never had but wished you had. You felt bad for thinking that way because you had Taehyung, but as stated, looking after him felt more like a responsibility you had no other choice but to take upon. With Jungwon, even though you were paid to help him with his studies, it never felt like a responsibility to you. You enjoyed spending time with him, helping him out, and sometimes, if the conversation steered into the direction, you enjoyed your deep and meaningful conversations with him.

You smiled back at him, and took the seat beside him, sitting on it. “I’m so sorry I’m late, Jungwon. You can tell your mom that she doesn’t need to pay me for this session.”

He shook his head. “No, noona. It’s okay. I didn’t mind the waiting. I got to use it to answer your mock tests.”

“Really? Let me see. What did you answer first?” you asked, taking your messenger bag off of your shoulder, placing it on the table.

“The Contemp—,” Jungwon began to say, but then he stopped, which caused you to tear your gaze away from the mock test in your hands, and to your tutee. You followed his gaze, and to your surprise, you saw Jungkook sitting across from you and Jungwon with a gentle smile on his face. He had his lip ring on—it was the first thing you noticed about him that day.

“Jungkook, what are you doing here?” you asked, swallowing the lump in your throat. Why did it feel like you were caught doing something you weren’t supposed to do? Why did you suddenly feel anxious?

Taehyung’s words rang in your ears: He’s crazy possessive. His charming persona is just that—a persona.

Was all of it true? Was that the reason why he was here? Because you were with another guy?

“I guess you didn’t read my message, babe,” he chuckled. “I told you not to buy lunch anymore because I cooked some for you. Here, you can share it with your friend…” he trailed off, politely smiling at Jungwon.

“H-Hello, I’m Yang Jungwon,” Jungwon stammered, starstruck that Jamsil’s golden boy was talking to him.

“Hello, Jungwon. It’s nice to meet you. You can just call me hyung,” Jungkook turned to you. “I’ll get going now, okay?” He pushed the lunch box towards you. “Eat. There’s hangover soup in there too.”

You gave him a look to which he grinned at. “Ah, don’t worry, Jungwon. She can tutor you even though she’s dr—,”

“Okay, thank you, Jeon Jungkook,” you interrupted him, making his grin wider. You shook your head at him, but you couldn’t hide the blush coating your cheeks from his sweet gesture. Then, you wondered, as Jungkook took his leave, did he do the same thing to Haemin?

“I didn’t know you and Jeon Jungkook hyung are dating,” Jungwon brought you out of your trance, gaze finally now upon him rather than the absent figure of Jungkook.

“Yeah, it just happened,” you said to him. “But come on, let’s focus on your mock tests.”

Yet despite saying that, you were the one who couldn’t focus because the only thing in your mind was: how did Jungkook know you were at the library?

Taehyung’s words plagued your mind the entire day. Even while you were working, all you could think about was his words about his best friend. How could he say those things about Jungkook? Someone he’d been best friends with since they were little? Why was he so adamant about you not dating him? Taehyung usually kept a distance from your personal life, not even asking about your mother because he knew of the complicated relationship your family had with his family. So, why was he all over your case now that you were “dating” Jungkook? You couldn’t understand. You couldn’t wrap your head around it.

Although you confirmed with the library interaction that Jungkook wasn’t the possessive type, seeing as he just walked away after giving you the lunch box, and even let Jungwon call him hyung, there was still that nagging thought in your mind: what if Taehyung’s word held weight? What if they were true?

You thought about it: if they were true, even when you were only fake dating, would he still be as possessive as Taehyung said he was? What happened for your cousin to even tell you something like that?

Your thoughts were put on a halt when your manager called for your name. You worked as a part-time waitress at a restaurant called Rado. You used to be a full-time employee, but since you were in your last year of uni, you asked if you could still be employed on a part-time basis, and fortunately, your manager, Han Somin, agreed.

“Yes, Ms. Han?” you asked as you entered her small office inside the employees’ locker room.

“Y/N, hi, come inside, I just have something to tell you,” she said, taking her eyeglasses off, and kindly smiling at you. You nodded and did as told. “It’s nothing serious,” she continued, which alleviated the nerves sinking in your bones. “I just wanted to ask if you wanted to be part of this party we’re catering to on Saturday. It’s a listening party for an artist named J-Hope; he released a new album. Maybe you’ve heard of him.”

You shook your head. “No, Ms. Han. But I’d love to be part of the staff. Where would it be held?”

“It’ll be held at his label’s function room. I’ll send you the details, alright?” You nodded, then she dismissed you, and went back to work.

Money had always been a sensitive topic for you. Growing up, you knew that you didn’t have a lot but you were comfortable due to both of your parents’ wages. Your father was a simple office man while your mother had her own small flower shop. They were able to provide for your basic needs and wants but when your father passed away—your mother’s earnings at the flower shop weren’t sustainable. Hence, at an early age, you learned how to look for jobs, and learned the value of money and earning it. Hence, the reason why, besides loving Jungkook all your life, you simply could not half-ass fake dating him because it was innate in you that when you do a job, you give it your hundred percent.

Part of you wished you didn’t have to worry about your finances. That, like other students at Jamsil, you could have fun and enjoy college life without worrying if you would still have a roof over your head eve though you failed an exam or if you would still be able to eat the next day if you buy a food late at night because you were so hungry that you couldn’t sleep.

Having money meant having freedom to do all the things that you wanted to do—and you weren’t free. Not yet, anyway, but moving to your own place was a start. That’s why no matter what people say, you would see fake dating Jeon Jungkook through because whether you liked it or not—he was the key to your freedom.

Saturday rolled around quickly. Adorned in your Rado’s uniform—a simple white linen long sleeve polo shirt, black slacks, black high heels, and your hair pulled back to show your face—you were already at the label’s function room preparing for the listening party of J-Hope. His music had been playing since you got there and you felt yourself being immersed and vibing to it that you made a mental note to check his other songs out afterwards.

You were in charge of the food and drinks. Ms. Han was also present to supervise and with you was your co-worker, Kang Seulgi, and Kim Hanbin. It was an intimate type of party; hence, the small group of staff and catering.

“I wonder who we’ll see here,” Seulgi told you as she placed the food fingers on the table while you poured drinks into the glasses.

“I heard it’s just indie artists that J-Hope invited. It’s the target audience for his album, you see,” Hanbin piped in, fixing his necktie.

“Whoever it is, I’m sure—,”

“Kim Y/N, it’s nice to see you here,”

You only heard that voice a couple of times but you wouldn’t mistake it for another. It was ingrained in your mind so deeply. It was the voice of the person you hoped was you for a long time—who got to touch, kiss, hug, care, and love Jeon Jungkook for four years. It was the voice of the person who was Jeon Jungkook’s first love, and most likely still loved. It was the voice of the person that was never going to be you in his life. It was the voice of:

“Lee Haemin.”

PART FOUR (a sneak peek)

“Lee Haemin.”

In one word, she was beautiful. Dressed in a small black dress with thin straps and a pair of black heels, her silky black hair pulled back, showing off her idol-like face, Lee Haemin was just a sight to behold. Smiling at you, she took a step forward.

“Is it okay if we talk?” she asked.

As though you were hypnotized, you nodded wordlessly. A part of you already knew what the talk would be, or at least that’s what you thought. Nodding back, Haemin smiled at Seulgi and Hanbin before leading you out of the function room and somewhere more private. She opened a door leading to what seemed like the conference room, and gestured that you enter first so you did. She followed in suit, and you took a short time to look at your surroundings.

It was all white with an oval table in the middle and black swivel chairs surrounding it. Adjacent to you were the ceiling to floor windows, showcasing the city landscape. Connected at the top was a projector and on the left side was a projector screen. You wondered how Haemin got access to such room, and as though reading your mind, she said:

“My family owns a stock, if you’re wondering why I got access to this room. We can pretty much use any room in the company.”

Nodding your head, you turned to face her. “I see. That’s great. I didn’t know that.”

“Not many people do,” she answered. “But that isn’t really why I wanted to talk to you.”

“I know,” you replied. “You wanna talk about Jeon Jungkook.”

Haemin smiled. “I heard you’re dating him.”

“From who? Taehyung?” You knew they were friends. Not exactly close, but they were acquainted due to Jungkook.

She shook her head. “From Jungkook." Stunned, your mouth parted ways a little. Haemin smiled. "Surprising, I know, but it truly was him who told me that he was with you."

"Why would he say that to you?"

"Because he loved me first."

And it was the truth. The truth hurts but it was the truth nevertheless. You weren't the first person he ever loved, ever had a deep and humane connection with. Everything about your relationship was a lie, a cover up. Theirs was true and real. Jungkook loved Haemin; not you.

Forcing a smile upon your face, you answered, “He loves me now. I don’t see the point of having this conversation, to be honest.”

“No, he doesn’t love you, Y/N. He wants you. Those two things are different,” You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. Hence, Haemin continued, “Loving someone lights up your world. Wanting someone, now that’s a different thing. To want something is to own it.”

“And your point? Jungkook wants to own me?” Even your words sent shivers down your spine. You loved Jungkook since you could remember. But did you want him to own you?

“Yes,” she replied. “Jungkook’s the type of person who gets and gets and gets and never likes to not have what he wants, what he needs. I’m telling you all these because prior to him dating you,” she smiled when she said ‘dating’ as though she knew it was only fake. “He lost me. Now he’s trying to get you to get me back, to own me again. But I don’t want that anymore. I don’t love him anymore. Don’t trap yourself. Get out as early as you can.”

You didn’t know what to say. So, you did the only thing you could do: walk away. But then Haemin called your name, and you stopped on your tracks, looking at her over your shoulder. “Don’t let love blind you, Y/N. I know you’ve loved him for years, but he’s only going to break you—mind, body, soul.”

“Thank you for the advice, Haemin,” you told her. “But I didn’t need it. Please respect my relationship with Jungkook. Thank you and enjoy the night away.”

author’s note: hey guys. again, so sorry for deactivating all of a sudden. i know this isn’t much but i hope having a sneak peek into chapter four brought you a bit of joy and excitement. feel free to send me asks regarding burnout and other things. see you in price of freedom next. i’ll be posting it again on tumblr for easy viewing but it’ll also be on hold for the time being. thank you and much love, aika.

#yandere jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook fics #jungkook fanfic #jungkook au #yandere bts #jeon jungkook #yandere jeon jungkook #burnout by aikastales #aikastales

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belovedguk · 25 days

Text

price of freedom (jk)

summary: upon learning that your father had arranged for you to marry kim taehyung, heir to the biggest corporation in asia, to secure his win in the presidential election, you sought the help of det. jeon jungkook of the intelligence unit to take him down and attain your freedom. however, you soon realized that freedom had a price and det. jeon’s was the most expensive and dangerous of it all.

pairing: detective!jungkook x professor!fem!reader

genre(s): yandere, heavy angst, dark romance, slow burn, political

author’s note: this is a repost of price of freedom chapters 1-2 from my old account, aikastales. no warnings for this part.

total word count: 7.2k

PART ONE

You were on your way out of the classroom when the familiar voice of your father’s right-hand man, Kim Namjoon, stopped you from your tracks. He was standing in the doorway, hands buried deep into the pockets of his black coat. Namjoon sent you a polite smile, but you kept your lips pressed into a thin line, adjusting the strap of your black leather bag which had fallen off your shoulder. You didn’t know what he was doing at your workplace, and frankly, you didn’t really care. Whenever Kim Namjoon showed up unannounced, it was never good news.

Sensing your displeased aura, Namjoon walked towards you while saying, “It’s no wonder your class is always filled, Y/N. You’re a great teacher.”

There was, once upon a time, that a compliment from Kim Namjoon would have made you grin widely. He was the person that you looked up to the most while you were growing up because he was incredibly smart and the only person who, despite being young, took your insights with great importance, not dismissing it. But you grew up and developed a mind of your own. Suddenly, Kim Namjoon wasn’t the great adult you looked up to anymore.

“Does my father want anything, Namjoon? Because you can tell him the same thing I’ve been telling him for years now: no,” you replied with a sigh. “I’m not going to campaign for him or do anything that makes it seem like I’m campaigning for him.”

“I came here without the knowledge of your father, Y/N. I came here to give you a heads up for what he’s about to do that concerns you,” he took another step towards you. Namjoon didn’t seem to age, you pondered. He looked like he was permanently stuck at 25 his whole life.

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion and perhaps, concern. When it came to your father, everything was unpredictable. “What?”

Your mind immediately came to the conclusion that your father was going to disown you, publicly, which you really didn’t mind. After the death of your mother, you had been estranged. You couldn’t remember the last time you spoke or even saw each other, in the flesh, at least. Senator Jung Hoseok was always on a television somewhere, for better or for worse.

“He’s arranging your marriage with Kim Taehyung, the heir of V Corporation.”

It was like your entire body had been washed over by ice-cold water. You felt it freeze and then shake. You knew you and your father didn’t see eye-to-eye in many things but you never expected him to meddle with your life in this way. You didn’t have a reason to expect it because he had been pretty good in letting you do whatever you wanted the past few years.

“Why the hell would he do that, Namjoon?” you asked, clenching your fists and feeling your entire body getting hot due to the anger that was quickly forming within you.

“To add machinery in his campaign, to ensure he wins the election. V Corporation is the biggest stockholder in Han Systems, the voting machine that will be used in the election,” Namjoon inhaled deeply then exhaled. “Kim Taehyung marries you and he wins, to put it simply.”

“What the fuck?”

You couldn’t believe the words that came out his mouth. Just how deranged your father had become over the past years that he was willing to have some guy marry his only daughter so that he’d win the election? A guy who was a notorious and infamous womanizer and you deeply hated.

“The marriage is a month away, Y/N. Expect that he’ll have his men take you to the press release of the announcement of your engagement to Kim Taehyung anytime now,” Namjoon said. You glared at him, his gaze softened. “I am sorry, Y/N. Truly. I tried talking him out of it but he was adamant. Kim Taehyung already accepted the proposal.”

You felt your knees getting weak. “This is insane, Namjoon. I’m not going to marry Taehyung or anyone. I won’t marry Taehyung or anyone. There has to be something you can do. Anything.”

He shook his head. “It’s already sealed, Y/N. It’s out of my hands now. I only came as a courtesy because I care about you. I always did and always will. You are like my daughter too.”

You felt like you were back to being a helpless teenager once again. Biting your lower lip, you tilted your head to the side as you shook your head. Placing a hand on your waist, you faced Namjoon once again. “Why does he think he can force me to do this? We haven’t talked for years but I’m sure my father still knows me. I’m not someone he can boss around.”

“Y/N, the freedom he’s given you to do whatever you wanted over the years is not free. He kept his distance from you because he knows, one day, he’ll use it against you. That day has come. You are going to marry Kim Taehyung, one way or another, because if you don’t—he’ll make sure to make your life and those you love suffer,” Namjoon licked his lower lip as he continued. “He knows everything that you’ve been doing. The people you’ve been seeing. The causes you’ve been donating and dedicated to. Everything. What do you think he’s capable of now more than ever? Nothing’s more dangerous than a desperate man.”

A shiver went down your spine. He knew everything. If Namjoon was telling the truth and he knew everything, you had no choice. Your father was a powerful man, an influential man. Whatever he wanted, he would stop at nothing to have it. You thought of Seokjin and the Moon Orphanage and you thought of Christian Yu, your on-again, off-again boyfriend turned closest friend. They became your family throughout the years. You didn’t even want to imagine what your father would do to them if you refused to marry Kim Taehyung.

“I don’t have a choice,” you stated, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I never did, didn’t I?”

Namjoon shook his head solemnly. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

And just like that, the illusion was broken.

Maybe drinking the pain away was a temporary solution to the aching hole in your chest but right now, you honestly didn’t care. Temporary fixes were sometimes the best fixes. You finished your fifth shot in just half an hour and when you were about to call the bartender to ask for another, a figure sat down on the stool beside you. When you took a glance at them, you couldn’t help but let out a humorless laugh.

“Hey, just a beer,” he said to the bartender before turning to you. “Evening, Professor Jung,” His voice was enough to annoy the living shit out of you. Or maybe, your day was just spoiled and everything annoyed you. “No ‘evening Detective’? I thought we were finally getting along.”

You inhaled sharply. “I’m not in the mood, Jeon. So shut up and leave me alone.”

Jeon Jungkook chuckled. “What got your panties in a twist?”

“It doesn’t concern you,” you snapped, finally facing him. There was an amused smile plastered on his annoyingly handsome face. “I’m serious, Jungkook. Leave me alone.”

Upon sensing your disposition, he asked, without a hint of mischief or teasing, “Do you wanna talk about it? We’re not friends but that should make it easier, right?”

He had a point. Sometimes, it was easier to tell everything to someone that wasn’t your friend. A stranger. But Jeon Jungkook wasn’t exactly a stranger. Not by definition, anyway. He wasn’t an acquaintance either.

Ever since you moved to Seoul to start your professorship at SNU, Jungkook had been there. He was one of the first people you met because of the bar you two were currently at, The Basement. Your co-faculty brought you along after work one night and he and his co-workers were also there. He tried flirting with you but you were with Christian at that time. Still, even if you weren’t, you wouldn’t have flirted back. Jungkook was handsome, yes, but you disliked cops and he was a proud one.

Whenever the two of you would be at The Basement at the same time, Jungkook would playfully flirt with you or just make it a point to annoy you at least once the entire night.

So yes, Jeon Jungkook was not a stranger. He was not a friend. He wasn’t an acquaintance. He was just there.

“Hey, saw your bust on the evening news. Good job, JK, and to the rest of the Intelligence,” the bartender, Hoshi, said as he brought Jungkook’s beer. “This one’s on the house.”

“Thanks Hoshi,” Jungkook said. From what you knew from secondary sources, Jeon Jungkook was a detective in Seoul Police Department’s elite team known as Intelligence Unit. He was the youngest in their team of six.

An idea suddenly popped in your mind. You turned to him. “You work in the Intelligence Unit, correct?”

Jungkook seemed surprised by your inquiry but nodded, nevertheless. “Yeah. I do. Why?”

“What type of cases do you work on? Is it always drug cases?” you asked.

“No. Mostly are drug cases, yes, but it’s usually up to our Sergeant what our next case would be or if we happen to come across one that he approves to take on,” he explained and you nodded slowly. “Why are you suddenly curious about my job, Professor? Don’t you hate what I do?”

You thought hard about your next choice of words. “What if someone goes to you to look into something illegal? Criminal?”

He shifted on his seat to face you, tattooed arm resting on the counter beside him. “If the information is credible and actionable then we look into it. They become CIs—confidential informants.”

“What does that entail? Being a CI?”

Jungkook raised his eyebrow slightly. “What’s with the questions? Do you have something you wanna tell me, Y/N?��

It was this or nothing. It was a risk you were willing to take.

“I have information on the illegal acts of a certain presidential candidate. Can your unit investigate that?”

You assumed Jungkook wasn’t dumb and he could’ve already guessed who the candidate was but he didn’t show it. His expression remained passive. “What information?”

You licked your lower lips. “Vote-buying, fraud, intimidation, and so much more.”

“I’m not sure if my sergeant will take the case, Y/N. The Commission on Elections exists for that purpose. They have jurisdiction.”

“Then, what about murder?”

Jungkook pressed his lips tightly. “Not here, Y/N.”

“I can’t go anywhere with you. I’m being watched,” you told him. “At least that’s what I’ve been told.”

He nodded. “Okay. Then just act natural, like we’re friends talking.”

You did your best to do so. “I don’t know the specifics. It was never even confirmed. But there was only one person who could kill Congressman Park Jimin—my father, Senator Jung Hoseok.”

“We can’t look into it based on a hunch, Y/N. There has to be something actionable like a message ordering the hit.”

“I can find it,” you told him. “I can find proof that he ordered the murder of Park Jimin.”

“You wanna wear a wire?” he asked incredulously. “Y/N, I am telling you right now: that’s dangerous.”

“I don’t care, Jungkook. It’s either I do this or—,” you shut your eyes tightly.

“Or what?” he asked.

“Or he wins the election. By then, it’ll be impossible for him to be arrested for any of his crimes.”

Jungkook sighed. “Why now? You had plenty of chances to do this but you didn’t. Why now?”

It was the question, wasn’t it? He wasn’t wrong. You had plenty of chances to report your father to the authorities but you didn’t. There was really no other reason why.

“Because I wasn’t strong back then. I was scared of him,” you scoffed, lowering your gaze. “Maybe I also needed him. He provided me with everything. I was scared that if he went to jail, I’d lose all those luxuries.”

“And now you’re ready to lose everything?”

“I already did,” you told him. “Right now, I have nothing else to lose. I also can’t let him do anything he wants so he can get everything that he wants and more. I’m done being his pawn.”

Jungkook was silent for a while. You didn’t say anything more. When he finished his beer, he stood, and as he slipped on his jacket, he told you, “I’ll see what I can do, Y/N. Good night and take care of yourself.”

It was a miracle that you managed to go home despite being hammered. Perhaps, over the years, your alcohol tolerance increased.

You took off your heels, coat, and bag, discarding them on the floor as you proceeded into your apartment. Throwing yourself on the sofa, you sighed deeply. As you stared at your swirling ceiling, you wondered if Jungkook would actually help you. All the cops that you knew were corrupted. You wondered if he was one of them.

But you had to try. He was your only option. You had to gamble on the fact that Detective Jeon Jungkook was one of the good ones.

Then, your mind went to his question: why now? And suddenly, you felt disgusted with yourself. All those years you could’ve spent ensuring your father paid for his crimes but you didn’t. You ignored him.

Yes, you defied him. But if you were being completely honest with yourself, you only did so because you hated him. It wasn’t because of a moral, virtuous reason. It was self-serving. And now that he had taken your freedom, regardless if it was an illusion, you were defying him again for all the same reasons.

Did that make you a bad person? You had no idea. Maybe there were who would think so.

Another sigh escaped your lips and as you closed your eyes, you immediately fell into a deep and troubled slumber.

A week had passed since you learned from Namjoon that your father had essentially sold you out to win the upcoming presidential election. Suffice it to say, you were on the edge the entire time. When you were not conducting your lectures at SNU, you were internally dying as you waited for Namjoon or any of your father’s men to pick you up for the press conference. You were also waiting for Kim Taehyung to reach out. But none of them did.

Instead, it was Jeon Jungkook.

You were unlocking your car when he appeared seemingly out of nowhere, scaring the living daylights out of you.

“What the fuck is the matter with you?” you hissed at him as you picked up your key.

“You said you were being followed? Well, you were right. I found this under your car,” he showed you a small black box. “It’s a tracker. But I already disabled it. I also scouted the university for any undercovers your father might have sent with a couple of my men and we found none. He probably just said that to get into your head.”

“Wait,” you told him. “What are you saying, Jungkook? Are you going to help me?”

He nodded. “I already got the greenlight from my Sergeant. He wants to meet with us now.”

For the first time in a week, you felt hope. A sliver of hope.

“Yeah? Okay. Okay, where do we go?”

“I’ll take us there,” Jungkook said. “Keys.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Why can’t I drive?”

“Y/N, if we’re going to do this, you’re gonna need to trust me,” the detective said. He seemed different from the guy who would playfully flirt with you at the bar. Perhaps, this was the Detective persona he had.

With your lips pressed tightly, you gave him your keys and went around to the passenger seat. Simultaneously, the both of you stepped into your vehicle and once the engine started, Jungkook began to drive.

You were pretty familiar with the roads within Seoul. One of the hobbies you picked up when you moved to the city was driving aimlessly whenever you couldn’t sleep. You enjoyed the peace and the excitement that came with not knowing where you’d end up.

“Were you watching me the entire week?” you asked Jungkook after a while.

“It’s standard procedure, whether you believe it or not. I had to make sure you were being truthful,” he explained. “But I mostly did background check. I didn’t watch you the entire week. My men did.”

Fair enough, you thought. “How’s your sergeant like?”

“Hyung is a good cop if that’s what you’re asking,” Jungkook replied, glancing briefly at me. “He taught me how to be one.”

“That’s not—,” you exhaled deeply. “I meant—is he standoffish? You know… How do I present myself to him?”

“Just be yourself, Y/N. Just explain everything to him truthfully.”

“You keep bringing that up—truth,” you said. “You also need to trust me if we’re going to do this, Jungkook.”

“I know and I do,” he answered. “Because if you don’t, if you cross me and my unit, there will be consequences.”

About ten more minutes later, they arrived at an abandoned warehouse in the outskirts of the city. Admittedly, you felt nervous but you stepped out of your car and followed Jungkook inside.

Once inside, he immediately stood out. He wore a black suit, his long jet black hair was gelled away from his face. A cigarette was hanging from his lips but what stood out the most about him was the scar on his left eye.

“Sarge, this is Jung Y/N. She’s the daughter of presidential candidate, Jung Hoseok. Y/N, this is Sergeant Min Yoongi—he’s the head of the Intelligence Unit.”

The sergeant blew smoke from his mouth. You extended your hand and he shook it. “Good to meet you, Ms. Jung.”

“Please, just call me Y/N.”

He nodded. “So, let’s cut to the chase. You said your father murdered Park Jimin but you have no proof.”

“I told Jung—detective Jeon that I am willing to be a CI and go undercover to find proof that he did,” you said, licking your lower lip. “I know I can find it.”

“It’s not going to be easy. I’m sure Det. Jeon made you aware of that,” Yoongi said, nodding at Jungkook’s direction.

You nodded. “He did. But like I said, I am willing.”

Yoongi and Jungkook looked at each other. You looked at both of them. Yoongi nodded as he smoked once again.

“From the background check I conducted on you, you’re pretty much estranged from your father, Y/N. If you suddenly come back into your old life and integrate yourself in it to find proof that your father killed or ordered the hit on Park Jimin, it’ll be suspicious,” Jungkook told you, slipping his hand into the pocket of his leather jacket.

You took a deep breath. “It won’t be suspicious. Not when I’m going to marry Kim Taehyung. That’s my way in.”

“Wait—you never said anything about marrying Kim Taehyung. Is he the same Kim Taehyung of the V Corp?” Jungkook asked, eyebrows furrowed deeply.

“I didn’t think it mattered at the time. But I do now. The marriage is my way in,” you said to him.

“Sarge?” Jungkook inquired.

Yoongi blew another smoke from his mouth. “If Y/N’s willing to do it, I don’t see any reason not to do it. It’s the fastest way to infiltrate Jung Hoseok’s inner circle.”

You nodded. “I am willing to do it, Sgt. Min.”

“Do you know anything about this arranged marriage?” the sergeant asked.

“Only that it’s in a month and there will be a press conference about it. Will that be enough time?”

A lopsided smirk appeared on Min Yoongi’s face. “That depends on you, Y/N and how fast you can acquire evidence that your father is involved in the murder of Park Jimin.”

What if I can never find proof? Does that mean I’m stuck in a marriage with Kim Taehyung forever?

I felt a cold shiver down my spine. As if sensing it, Jungkook spoke up. “Look, Y/N, we’ll do everything we can to help you and not to brag, we’re pretty good at our job. That’s why we’re the Intelligence Unit. We make the cases that can’t be made. But if we’re going to take down a man as powerful as your father, whose eyes and ears are everywhere, you have to help us. You have to do everything to help us take him down. It all goes down to you.”

You nodded. It all goes down to you.

“We’ll contact you. You don’t contact us. For now, just sit tight and let the arrangement flow. Just act how you normally would. So, if you’re not in favor of this marriage, act like it. Don’t just suddenly act like you’re into it. This is going to be a long game, Y/N. So I ask you this one last time: are you willing to do this?”

Min Yoongi’s gaze was as sharp as a predator hunting for its prey. It penetrated your soul.

“I am.”

PART TWO

Like the last time you saw him, he was wearing a long black coat under his suit and black pointed leather shoes. When you saw him standing outside of your apartment, you knew exactly what he was there for—the day of your press conference had finally arrived.

You took off your earphones as you walked towards him, chest rising heavily as you had just arrived from your jog. “Have you always known where I lived? Don’t tell me you have cameras around my apartment too.”

Namjoon didn’t address your question. Instead, he informed you, “The press conference starts in three hours. I’m here to take you to it.”

“Of course you are,” you scoffed, unlocking your apartment. You entered your place and kept the door open for Namjoon to follow you inside.

“Take a shower and then we'll leave,” Namjoon said, shutting the door behind him. “Taehyung has made arrangements regarding your wardrobe.”

“Don’t I get any say in this matter?” you asked, turning on your heels to face Namjoon.

“He prepared various dresses for you to choose from, Y/N.”

“You know that’s not what I mean,” you snapped. “Can you tell me I have, even just a little bit, of a say in this marriage?”

“You and I both know that’s not possible,” he said with a deep sigh. “Just get ready, please.”

Shaking your head, you proceeded to your bathroom. It didn’t take long for you to finish getting ready; slipping on a pair of wide leg jeans, a simple white shirt, and throwing on a black coat over it. You sat down in front of your vanity mirror, blow drying your hair. Then, you put on your usual jewelry—except for the necklace Jeon Jungkook had given you days after meeting with him and his sergeant.

It was gold with an engraving of St. Joseph on the circle pendant. It wasn’t eye-catching to say the least, which was the point as it was the “wire” that you needed to wear to capture everything when you were with your father. Because you couldn’t contact Jungkook or Yoongi, the detective told you that you only needed to press the pendant once and it would immediately activate and send them a signal that would alert them that you were under the wire.

After slipping on your white sneakers and putting your phone, wallet, and keys inside your coat pockets, you left your room. Namjoon was looking at your bookshelf. You stared at his back for a moment. Most of the books in there were the books he made you read growing up. They were his copy. You always wanted to get rid of them but when you were about to, you just couldn’t.

“I’m done,” you said.

Namjoon turned to face you. “Okay. Let’s go.”

The ride was quiet. Namjoon was sitting beside the driver while you were seated in the backseat. Your phone vibrated in your pocket and you pulled it out, seeing Jungkook’s message.

We’re with you. Do your thing.

It was oddly comforting. You never would’ve thought you’d be feeling that way especially coming from Jungkook. You put your phone back in your pocket and lowered yourself on the chair, resting your head against the window.

It didn’t take long before you reached V Hotel. From your view inside the vehicle, the tall building looked so intimidating. It almost looked like it reached the sky. It wasn’t the first time you had been at the hotel. You remembered this establishment from your childhood. Your family would always stay here when you were in Seoul. The memories were fond because they were memories with your mother—room service, movie nights, trying out your mother’s jewelry and heels even though they were too big on your small feet.

In the hotel room, it felt like you had your own world. The both of you could be as careless as you wanted because there was no husband and father that would restrict you.

Now, you were back and everything had changed. Your mother was dead and you were marrying the heir to this hotel.

Namjoon opened the door for you, cutting off your trance. With a deep sigh, you stepped out of the vehicle. Immediately, you heard screams from everywhere. You didn’t even notice the media behind the barricade from across the street.

“What the hell is that?” you asked Namjoon as he led you inside the hotel.

“It’s a press conference, Y/N. What did you expect?” he returned.

When you were finally in the lobby, what struck you the most was the chilly air conditioned air. The lobby was massive and wide. Everything was grand. You would not deny the beauty of the five-star hotel. The manager greeted you and Namjoon then led you to your suite. Even the elevator was grand. By the time you arrived at your suite, you weren’t surprised at the elegant interior.

“Enjoy your stay. Please let us know if you need anything else.”

You didn’t have time to breathe because as soon as you arrived at the suite, Namjoon immediately instructed everyone in the room to start getting ready. Before you knew it, you were sitting in front of a vanity mirror with bright lights in front of your face and what seemed like dozens of people pressing a million things on your face.

When your make up was done, the stylist helped you put on your dress. During all this preparation, not one of them spoke. You wondered if they were instructed not to.

“No, I want to keep this necklace,” you told the stylist who was on the verge of unclasping the necklace.

The dress you were now wearing was a white silk dress with thin straps and hugged you perfectly in all your curves. When you were finally done, you felt like a completely different person. It felt like you were back into your old lifestyle.

“Thank you everyone,” you said as they were preparing to leave. They just bowed and didn’t say anything back.

When you were finally alone in the suite, you sat down on one of the couches. Unconsciously, your fingers found its way to the pendant of your necklace. You wondered if Jungkook was still watching, listening. You wondered if he was anywhere near the hotel. The nerves had finally set in.

Today, you were going to announce to the entire nation that you were marrying Kim Taehyung.

And speaking of the devil, he arrived in your suite. He wore a tailor-fitted brown-shade three-piece suit. Unlike the last time you saw him, his hair was back to being black, slicked back, exposing his forehead and handsome face.

“Hi there, Y/N. Long time no see,” Kim Taehyung greeted with a smirk plastered on his lips. “You look beautiful, Y/N.”

“Wish I could say the same to you,” you told him, rising from your seat. “So, tell me, was this all your idea? A sick fantasy you had?”

Taehyung chuckled. “I hate to break it to you but this is purely a business strategy for me. You can hate your father for this marriage.”

Somehow, that made it worse. Your father really had no regard for you.

“I’m sure you didn’t want to get married this way. You can literally have anyone you want, Taehyung. So, how about we make a run for it? Go on with our lives.”

“Not anyone is the daughter of the future president of this country, Y/N,” he said. “You don’t need to worry about me getting in the way you live your life, if that’s what’s you’re worried about. You can see other people and I wouldn’t mind. Just don’t do it publicly. We still have appearances to keep up.”

This was not the Kim Taehyung you were expecting. You heard rumors about him. You heard all sorts of unfortunate words that described him: womanizer, notorious, evil, diabolical. Yet he didn’t seem like any of it as he stood in front of you. Perhaps, it was an act?

“Come on. The sooner we finish this press conference, the quicker we get back to our day lives.”

And so, you were on your way.

When you arrived at the hall where the press conference was held, you felt like your heart was going to leap out of your chest at any moment. The anxiety creeped into your system and suddenly, you were hyper aware of everything that was happening around you. All the bodyguards that surrounded you and their chatters about being in their respective positions, the yelling of the media inside the hall, the sound of their cameras clicking, and your shaky breath.

Taehyung grabbed your hand which, instinctively, you tried to withdraw but his grip was right and he tugged you along with toward the stage where you saw your father and Taehyung’s parents already seated—all smiles and jovial towards each other.

Seeing your father made you tremble in anger. He was the reason behind everything. Seeing him act like he wasn’t cheating his way to the presidency by using her own daughter like a puppet in front of everyone in the hall and to the people who were watching ignited a fiery ball of anger and resentment in your heart. And when your eyes met, you felt like you were a fucking child again. You knew the look all too well—do as I say.

Taehyung greeted his parents by bowing ninety-degrees, letting go of your hand momentarily to clasp it over his stomach. You followed his action. Then, the both of you bowed respectfully to your father. It made you sick.

You sat beside him while Taehyung sat beside his parents. Both of you were in the center. You were now aware of just how vast and how many media were present inside the hall.

“Hello. We’ll now start with the press conference,” an emcee off stage spoke into the microphone. “Everyone, please introduce yourself.”

Taehyung’s parents were the first to introduce themselves, followed by their son, you, and lastly, your father.

“Hello. My name is Jung Hoseok, Y/N’s father. Thank you all for coming.”

Y/N’s father—he always introduced himself that way to the public. Never Mayor Jung Hoseok, Congressman Jung Hoseok, or Senator Jung Hoseok. It was always Y/N’s father. He wanted to be seen as just another father in the country. That made him relatable out of his peers. Even at such a young age, he would use you for his advantage. In hindsight, you probably should’ve seen this coming. But hindsight was indeed 20/20.

“To the members of the media present with us at the hall and to the global viewers of the live broadcast, we want to welcome you to the press conference of the announcement of Kim Taehyung and Jung Y/N’s engagement. To start, we will be entertaining the questions from select media. Upon your arrival at the hall, your seats were randomly put on a red sticker so if you have a sticker on your seat, please rise and we will call your name row by row. Thank you.”

And so, the questioning began. The first ones were basic—how you and Taehyung met which you both answered at ease. It surprised you—how you answered the question at ease, how smoothly you lied in front of the cameras. How you quickly came up with scenarios adding onto Taehyung’s recount of your romance.

Perhaps, the apple didn’t fall far from the tree.

“Ms. Go Minji from The Seoul Times.”

A beautiful dark-haired woman dressed in a pair of jeans, white blouse underneath a black coat and heels, carrying her thick notebook in one hand and her phone in the other went to the center where the microphone was placed. Despite the charming smile plastered on her lips, her sharp gaze met yours and you immediately knew she wasn’t just some journalist. She was young, probably around your age, and her sharp gaze held a lot of tenacity and passion.

The burning passion of the youth—a catalyst for many things.

“Hello. This question is specifically for Ms. Jung Y/N,” Minji spoke into the mic.

“Yes, please proceed with your question.”

“It’s public knowledge that you and your father had not been in contact for many years, presumably since the passing of your mother. Isn’t it curious that, all of a sudden, you’re back into each other’s lives, and you’re marrying Mr. Kim Taehyung, heir to the V Corporation which is also the largest stockholder of Han Systems, the supplier of this year’s national elections?”

You could feel everyone’s eyes on you but nothing more evident than that of your father’s. He was burning holes in you.

“It’s true. My father and I have been estranged for some time now. We have differences, just like everybody else. We have arguments and misunderstandings that we sweep under the rug rather than confront them immediately and that led to the unfortunate estrangement. But he’s my father and I never stopped loving, caring, and supporting him—,” you took a quick glance to your father and saw him smiling at you.

For everyone else it might be a sweet smile. For you, it was sinister.

You continued, “You know, just because we’ve lived our lives publicly since he became involved with politics doesn’t mean that we have to put everything out there. My father and I have reconciled. As for my marriage to Taehyung—like we said a while ago, we’ve known each other since we were little. We’ve been friends throughout the years. It didn’t occur to us that we share the same romantic feelings for each other until last month. So, when we acknowledged it, there wasn’t really any second guessing—we knew we wanted to spend the rest of our lives together. It may be unorthodox to most since our society is very conservative when it comes to dating, but it’s a testament on how true and sincere our feelings are for each other. We are marrying because we love each other.”

“But isn’t that a conflict of interest? Your father is running for president.”

“No, it’s not. Firstly, there are no laws against our union. Secondly, my father is not corrupt. His record can attest to that. Thirdly, Han Systems developed a corruption-proof system. That is why the Commission on Elections approved their license to be the supplier for this election after a thorough investigation on the company and the testing of the machine. It took them six years to reach this decision. That only means Han Systems was the best of the best. Their system worked. I understand how our union may raise speculation but I ask the public to look at the facts and the records of my father’s public service of more than 20 years before they spread malicious comments.”

The moment you stepped out of the bathroom to change back into your own clothes, Jung Hoseok was waiting outside. He was seated in one of the chairs near the room’s balcony.

“You answered well a while ago,” he complimented. “Sounded like a true politician’s daughter.”

“I’m going now. You got what you wanted so let’s just stay out of each other’s way as we’ve been doing the past years,” you told him.

“Stay, Y/N. I’m not done talking to you.”

There was the Jung Hoseok you remembered. All the traces of his public persona were gone. Before you was the true Jung Hoseok—cold, stern, dictatorial. With your fists clenched, you faced your father.

“You will see this through, Y/N. This act doesn’t end after the press conference. In fact, it’s only the beginning. I’m sure Namjoon has told you what the consequences will be if you deliberately try to cross me. It’s not only your life that is at stake. Do you understand?” he raised his eyebrow slightly, challenging you to deviate.

“I do,” you said.

“Good.”

“How can you do this? You’ll sell out your own blood for your own selfish interest. Do you have no conscience?” you asked because it hurt. It still hurts even though you always knew your father was not a good man.

“Y/N, I thought by now you’ve grown up and accepted the realities of the world,” he shook his head as he rose from his seat. “You were always your mother’s daughter. So idealistic, so… hopeful,” you felt your body froze when his fingers traced your jaw. “Look at where that led her. Killed by the very people she stood for,” Hoseok sighed deeply. “Justice, truth, honesty, morality—these are fallacies. Man-made illusions to sell idealists like you into championing causes that do not matter. Made to believe we’re all equal. Y/N, we’re not. There will always be a leader and a follower. And I am born to lead. And I will do everything to make sure I get to lead for a long, long time.”

The sinister smile appeared on his face once more as he continued, “So, don’t get in my way because I won’t hesitate to do what needs to be done to push you off it.”

Same place. Take the route we used.

This was the message that you saw after you finished drying the dishes you used when eating. It was from Jungkook, obviously, and even though you wanted nothing more but to stay in and call it a night—you knew this was more important. So, without further ado, you took your keys, wallet, phone, and coat then proceeded to the parking area of your apartment building.

Fortunately, you still remembered the route Jungkook used going to the warehouse. You guessed this was probably the location you would often meet. You wondered how many CIs had driven the same route and what happened to them afterwards.

When Jungkook asked to meet with you to give you the necklace, you had asked the very question.

“What happens after my father is in jail? I imagine I have to testify and all that but what about after that?” you asked as Jungkook put the necklace around your necklace.

“You get your payment for the information you provided us and you’re free to do whatever the hell it is that you wanna do,” Jungkook answered, locking the gold jewelry in place.

“I don’t need money. But freedom sounds nice,” you replied, turning to face him.

Jungkook became a friendly face. You never expected this. It felt like with him came hope that everything would be alright, that the good guys would win this time around.

Moments later, you arrived at the warehouse. It was dark and the street lights didn’t help illuminate the streets clearly. All that you could see was whatever the bright light from your headlights shone upon. Once you had parked and shut the engine off, you stepped out of your vehicle and proceeded inside, using your phone’s flashlight to guide you.

“Y/N.”

Your heart nearly leapt out of your chest again. You turned and your flashlight shone upon Jungkook’s face.

“What the hell is the matter with you? Why do you sneak up like that?” your hand was on your chest, feeling your heartbeat.

“Sorry. Part of the job is to be as sneaky as you can,” Jungkook’s lips formed into a smile. “Come on. Let’s talk somewhere brighter.”

So, you followed him upstairs and inside a room with the lights on but no windows. It was small with only a table and a metal chair. The walls were dirty yellow filled with various graffiti. The floor too.

“What was this place?” you asked, genuinely curious.

“According to Sarge, it used to be a sardines factory. But it was shut down and the local police department took over after it was revealed that the owners were trafficking underage girls and shipping them off to various countries,” Jungkook explained, sitting on the table behind him, and pulling out a box of cigarettes and lighter from his coat pocket. “Intelligence mostly uses it as a safe place to talk to CIs.”

You nodded. Jungkook lit a cigarette between his lips. “So, everything that happened a while ago was captured and recorded. Our tech guy is uploading it to a database for safekeeping. I wanted to let you know that you did great.”

“I lied, Jungkook, about everything,” you told him with a light scoff.

“It was necessary,” he shrugged it off. You frowned a bit. Was lying also ‘part of the job?’ He must have noticed your expression because he chuckled as he blew smoke from his mouth. “Professor, you do realize the world isn’t black and white? Sometimes, to do our jobs, we have to use similar methods as the bad guys.”

You inhaled deeply with your lips pressed tightly. “Why did you wanna meet?”

“I wanted to know if you were okay after everything that happened today.”

“You could’ve asked me over the phone.”

“Yeah, but I wanted to see you,” Jungkook removed the cigarette from his lips. “You’re my CI, Y/N. You’re my responsibility. Part of my job is to make sure you’re okay every time you’re undercover.”

“I’m fine,” you told him. “Honestly, right now, I just want to sleep. I’m sure after today, I’m gonna be whisked away for God knows what for the wedding.”

“Y/N, you asked us before how long will this take, remember? And Sarge told you that it was a long game. You can’t have this attitude if you wanna take your father down.”

“I’m not—,”

“Yes, you are,” Jungkook rose from his seat. “This defeatist attitude. It’s getting annoying. It’s not going to help you last,” his eyebrows were furrowed and suddenly, he seemed bigger. “You want to see your father pay for his crimes? Then, do everything in your power to do it. Stop second guessing yourself, use your instincts, commit.”

You weren’t sure what to say but everything he said left an impact on you.

“I’m not mad,” he said after a while. “I’m just being direct.”

You nodded slowly. “No, it’s fine. I—I understand. I’ll do my best, really.”

Jungkook smoked again. “Okay. You can go now. Keep your necklace on.”

author’s note: hey guys. again, so sorry for deactivating all of a sudden. feel free to send me asks regarding pof and other things. see you in, hopefully, a next fic. thank you and much love, aika.

#yandere jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook fics #jungkook fanfic #jungkook au #yandere bts #yandere jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook #price of freedom by aikastales #aikastales

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