#i love her so much u have no idea but she consumes every spare fucking minute i have

[sticker-picker]

I've been a bit scarce lately because I had a baby

Dont worry it's the cute kind. Meet Loux ♡ She had a rough start after losing mom and is stunted but has the biggest fucking paws I've ever seen. Just cartoonishly huge. Nicknames so far include: Little Big Mitts, Big Batons, Baby Bop It, and gibberish.

[hannie-dul-set]

US, AGAIN | four.

SUMMARY. they say history repeats itself, but you’d like to disagree. you had to disagree. history changes, even if you had to force it. but when all your attempts to twist fate were met by nothing but the flashing recurrences of the past, what were you supposed to do?

or, wherein you try everything in your power to have nothing to do with na jaemin, but na jaemin wants nothing but you.

PAIRING. na jaemin x female! reader GENRE. college! au, historical! au, soulmate! au, past lives, forbidden love stuff, reincarnation, romance, drama, humor, angst, fluff, looots of flashbacks, this is an entire kdrama, very loosely inspired by the webtoon “see you in my 19th life” WARNINGS. (for this chapter only) swearing, night terrors, hospital mentions, passing out, the works hgdhjasf WORD COUNT. 5.1k

NOTE. I’M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG <///3 but life is life thank god we only have to go through this once unlike our dearest mc HJGASDJSF anyway!! lots of jaemin fluff here!! you’ll want to punch him in the face!! hope u enjoy <3

CHAPTER FOUR: why the sun sets and rises

(Running.

Through the winding branches that cut into the air, the silver lake, the jagged ground, the clouds in the wind at each and every shallow pant, you were running—

A gunshot.

—running until your legs gave away.)

You woke up in a cold sweat.

God.

Looking around, you noticed that it was far too early for you to be awake— the hazy light that barely slipped through the thin curtains, the desolate silence that seemed to have consumed your room whole, and the bedside digital clock down below you that said 6:21AM in big bold letters, indicating that you should be fast asleep especially after staying up at ungodly hours in the morning finishing up an assignment. But even after burying your head in between two of your pillows, you couldn’t even suffocate yourself into unconsciousness.

You groaned and jumped off of the top bunk.

When your feet landed on the floor, you had expected to see Seungah’s ghost of a face lying sideways on the bottom bunk, but all that met you was a small, neon orange sticky note laying soundly on her smoothed out pillow. ‘Had to leave early to the diner! Eat the breakfast I made you or else xoxo’, it said. You sighed.

There was no point mulling over the past when you had an entire future to take care of.

“Oh my gosh.”

Hong Nabi was in shock with what she saw when she arrived at the benches by the garden to work on your group assignment today. It was shocking to the point that she dropped all her binders and papers onto the pavement.

You sighed, sliding out of your seat to help her. She spared you a few, quick glances as the both of you were slouched on the floor, and he couldn’t help but bite her bottom lip in worry. The Y/N that was usually so cool, so put together, and so unbothered looked like she was casket ready. That, or ready to star in a Tim Burton animation.

“Is it Halloween today..?”

“Let’s just get this thing started,” you groaned, finally finished cleaning things up and you were now back onto your seat. Nabi sat right in front of you, organizing her now jumbled up material. She wanted to ask if you were okay— but would that be offensive considering that you were very clearly not? Still, she opened her mouth to speak, but was scared into silence when you suddenly cursed out loud. “Since when did this become a paired project? Where the hell are they?”

Nabi pressed her lips together, looking around. “I’m not sure.”

You still had around two weeks more until the presentation, but that didn’t mean that they could slack off as much as they wanted. In a fit, you grabbed your phone from your sling bag, exasperatedly tapping on the fragile screen that Nabi was almost sure that you were going to break it, but before you managed to burst a vein, an incoming sound of noises and laughter approached your ears.

Boys will be boys, but you weren’t having any of that shit.

“Yah,” the moment Jeno, Renjun, and Donghyuck showed up at your table as if nothing was wrong, you decided to smack the nearest head with a rolled up sheet of stapled paper. “Didn’t we agree to start at nine?”

“Yah,” Donghyuck snatched the weapon from you, his other hand focused on caressing the spot on his head that you’d just every so gently smacked. “Don’t you ‘yah yah’ me, missy. Did you forget that you’re younger than us?”

If only he knew.

“Is that so? You should grow a sense of responsibility, then. It doesn’t take fifty fucking years.”

With that, you let out a huff and swung your laptop open.

The rest of the people occupying the table exchanged concerned glances as they shuffled to find seats of their own. They haven’t known you for long, but this type of temperament from you was arguably out of the ordinary. Even when Donghyuck would strike a chord too dangerously, you wouldn’t snap at him— today, you weren’t your usual self, and they all mutually agreed in silence that they were going to tread carefully if they still wanted their heads attached to their necks.

When the sounds of your fingers clicking against the keyboard stopped, they felt their hearts stopping, as well.

You looked up from the laptop screen, proceeding to look around, closed your eyes, and then breathed out. “Where’s Jaemin?”

At that moment they all flipped their phones open, scrolling, clicking, and typing before they can taste any more of your unraveled temper. You had to admit, you were feeling a little guilty for being such a bitch. A part of it was yes, sleep deprivation, shitty nightmares, and a whole truck load of stress can really take a toll on your sanity, but the other part was voluntary.

Jeno looked up, the first person who managed to pinpoint Jaemin’s whereabouts. “He just texted. He says he’s running— oh, there he is.”

There he was indeed, a couple of feet away from where you all were. Once you confirmed that he wasn’t absent, you turned back to continue working, but the rest of them continued to stare at Jaemin, who was barely hanging onto his dear life, sweating and panting. And as they all watched the poor boy breathlessly running towards the table, they all thought of the same thing with one mind, heart, and soul.

Na Jaemin was a dead man.

He pulled up right in front of you, hunched over breathless with his hands on his knees. He stood up and promptly apologized. “Ahh, so sorry for being late. I had to stop by somewhere and there was traffic. I’m really—”

“I didn’t ask about your personal business,” you hummed, not even looking at him. Everyone, not only Jaemin, flinched at your explicit coldness. “Did you get the files that we need?”

He looked at you. You weren’t looking at him, but you knew he was looking at you.

“...Yeah. Hold on.”

As if the mood wasn’t already shit earlier, it actually turned into absolute horse crap after Jaemin arrived. It wasn’t his fault, really, but circumstance after circumstance didn’t exactly paint the prettiest picture of him. When the clock finally struck eleven in the morning, everyone except you all released a synchronous sigh. “We’re done today, right?” Renjun asked, and you responded with a quick nod, noticeably a lot more mellow than earlier.

Nabi stood up and started fixing her things. “I’ll send everything later to you tonight, Y/N,” she smiled at you.

“Yeah, sure,”’ you hummed, nodding. “Thank you.”

The four boys froze. Why were you being nice to her? Of course, their complaints were verbalized into nothing more than silent whines, groans, and grumbles that easily flew above your ears, Jaemin being a lot more quiet about voicing his complaints than the rest despite taking most of your attacks.

Still, even if you were being particularly thorny to him, he thought it would be a good idea to speak out just as you were about to leave. “Do the both of you have any classes after this? We were planning on getting lunch together,” he said. “Would you like to join? My treat.”

You looked at him. There was a polite smile on your face. Evidently forced.

“No, thanks.”

Donghyuck let out a genuine gasp.

“Did she just—” he stammered, switching his sight back and forth from Jaemin to you. “Did she just turn down a free meal offer?”

“She did,” you sighed, rolling your eyes as he continued to gawk at you. You picked up your heavy bag from the bench seat. “I gotta get going. Have fun, you guys.”

And you let them just like that, with five pairs of eyes trained at the back of your head until they finally lost sight of you.

For someone like you, the bulletin boards at the bus stops were like a gold mine. A gold mine of part-time jobs just waiting to be filled. There were flyers haphazardly plastered onto the board, all in different colors and different fonts. You bit a chunk off of the granola bar that served as your lunch for today, eyes meticulously scanning the available offers, a few flyers already wedged in between your armpit.

“Hair salon assistant— can’t do that. Diner waitress— a hard maybe. Already have a restaurant job pending, my shifts might clash. Library assistant? Alright, I need to check it out further, though. What about a movie— oh!— oh my god, you scared me.”

“What are you doing here, Y/N?”

Sooah suddenly appeared beside you, looking up as she clutched her backpack straps. You let out a sigh of relief upon the realization that it was just her.

“Fancy seeing you here, cadet,” you hummed, folding the neatly folding the few flyers that you had and shoving into your sling bag along with the emptied granola bar wrapper. “Are your classes over?”

“Mhm! I’m waiting for my mom to pick me up.”

“Aren’t you honored to spend time with me as you wait?”

You let out a chuckle, sitting down on the wooden seat, patting down the empty spot beside you, and Sooah happily hopped to sit down right away. Peeling off one of the flyers stuck onto the board, you decided to fold it— once, twice, countless more times until the flat, square piece of paper was now shaped into a lotus flower. Sooah beamed in amazement.

“Y/N,” she started, and you dropped the little paper flower onto her tiny hands. She placed it on her lap before looking up to you, large eyes hinted with curiosity. “The story you told us last time— was it a true story?”

You suddenly felt a chill in the air.

“...Why do you ask?”

“Oh, well,” she mused. “My mommy is a Korean Literature teacher at my school, but she teaches a grade above me. Sometimes, I’d go through her stuff to read some stories that I haven’t read in my class, and the other day—”

Uh oh.

After living for twelve whole lifetimes and currently going through your thirteenth, there was always this feeling that haunted you all throughout, a feeling that you were all too familiar with. It was gnawing, grinding, and chewing up the bottom most part of your gut. A warning sign for something bad to come.

You were definitely feeling that right now.

“—I found the same story as the one you told us, big sis.”

Yep. It was never wrong, and it never will be. You bit down your bottom lip.

“And I found something interesting!” oh, how much more must anxiety drown you, but Sooah seemed so excited that you didn’t have the heart to stop her. You raised a brow, urging her, and she smiled brightly. “You said you don’t remember the girl’s name, right?”

“Yeah…”

“Y/N! She has the same name as you!”

Of fucking course.

“The last name is different, though—” she added as an afterthought. “She was Song Y/N, and you’re not. Still. Isn’t it really cool?”

Not cool at all. You wanted to scream, maybe cry a little and lose a generous chunk of your mind, because as far as you knew, there had never been an instance where you had heard of this story being shared to the public— to an entire class, nonetheless. It shouldn’t matter, right? It wasn’t your life anymore. Just an old, tragic tale passed on from mothers to their children as a bedtime story.

But somehow, it made you feel vulnerable.

How many more people knew about this?

“But, sis. You’re kind of a dummy, though. How could you forget someone’s name when it’s the same as yours?”

Sooah questioned, tilting her head, but it eventually washed pon her that you weren’t looking all too well. You had your lips splayed into an evident frown, worry creasing your forehead, which she could not at all get. Were you okay?

“Did you finish reading all of it?”

You asked after a bout of silence. Sooah shook her head in response. “No, not yet,” she huffed. “My mom caught me making a mess out of her things and scolded me.”

That’s good, you thought. At least she didn’t make it to the end— that would only complicate things. After a second of deliberation, you figured that this would be the best move if you played your cards right.

“Sooah,” you started. “Do you think your mom will let me borrow that story?”

The next day, your classes were all condensed into the afternoon— a deliberate decision to allow yourself to recharge in bed for the entire first half of the day.

But right now it was eight in the morning, yet you were already busying yourself inside the campus.

No, you didn’t have a group meeting today, neither did you have any prior commitments needed to be accomplished here in school, but you figured after not having a single fucking blink of sleep last night thanks to Sooah’s revelations yesterday, you might as well head to school early to apply for the part-time job at the library. Only one problem— where was the library?

It was eight in the morning. You had been here since seven-thirty. Not a single bookshelf in sight. You opted to just give up and mold yourself into the floor because you couldn’t even ask anyone for directions because no one was there.

Well. Almost no one.

You had just passed by a single living soul earlier as you were trudging around the bottom floor like a zombie, but you completely missed him. Na Jaemin caught your disheveled figure marching through the hallways earlier, evidently lost, as he left the faculty office with a steaming hot cup of coffee in his hands. He immediately brightened upon seeing you— as if his bloodstream was directly charged with caffeine, but he didn’t come around to approaching you until now. He couldn’t get the timing.

Even now, as he discreetly tailed behind you without your knowledge, he didn’t know when was the appropriate time to give you a simple ‘hello’. He pressed his lips together, taking in a sharp breath through his nose, and decided screw it— you wouldn’t even be happy to see him no matter the timing.

He picked up his pace and sounded from right behind you.

“Morning, group leader.”

You stopped, swiveling your heels around, and he was met with your grimacing face.

As expected. He gave you a blinding smile.

“How are you?”

“My morning is shit, thank you very much,” you spat. “Even more now, after seeing you.”

Ouch.

Jaemin knew that you weren’t exactly fond of him, and he’d spent too many hours wondering why. Maybe you just disliked him without bearing much of a reason. Some people were like that, but he didn’t hold it against you. He still pressed on with a smile.

And it irritated you.

(You believed that it was irritation, or made yourself believe. Yeah, let’s go with irritation.)

“Now, what do you want?” you crossed your arms, shifting your weight to one leg as you looked at him with exasperation. “You’re definitely not here to ask me about our assignment, right? I’m not sure if you’re aware, but I might as well say it to your face for your own good.”

You roughly shoved a finger to his chest, mustering up not a glare— but a plain look of disinterest.

“I don’t like you.”

Jaemin simply looked at you.

“You don’t like me.”

“No matter what you try to do, that won’t ever—wait, what? What the fuck?” you had to double take, expression suddenly morphing into a comical confusion, which Jaemin found cute, but of course he couldn’t say that out loud. He settled with the same smile as earlier, which you found a little more irritating as much as it was conflicting this time around. Within a second of silence, you felt heat slowly rising and you felt it slowly getting to your head. “You’re just gonna take that...as that?”

He let out a hum, shrugging. “I can’t dictate how you feel, can I?”

You gawked at him.

“You’re not even gonna ask why? Not even gonna protest?”

“Do you want me to?” he leaned forward, face a little closer to yours, smile a little more irritating than before, the heat growing a little more prominent than ever, your grasp on your consciousness becoming a little more hard to hold than earlier. You felt yourself getting caught in a stammer. “I would, if you want me to.”

Fuck this shit and fuck it completely.

“Where are you going?”

“None of your business,” you stormed off before you could find yourself getting caught inside a heatwave, breathing out long, fervent breaths to calm yourself down, the dizzying heat slowly getting to your head making you woozy. It would be a bad idea to even turn around and look at him. “I’d appreciate it if you don't follow me.”

Jaemin frowned when he saw your back yet again. He felt like this was the only thing he’d seen from you— your back perpetually facing him without any hope of you even turning around to spare him a quick glance, but he didn’t want to go against your wishes. He wasn’t planning on following you. But when you suddenly collapse on the floor a few feet away from him—

Thud.

—what else was he supposed to do?

(“Your Highness.”

It was without question that he’d answer your call sparing not even a second to waste with those gentle eyes of his, and this time was no different. The only difference being the quirk of his lips— pursed, pouting. He stepped away from the bush of azaleas, and stepped closer to you.

“I thought I told you not to call me that anymore,” he huffed, languidly dropping beside you on the stone bench, taking your hands into his with an earnest glimmer. “Say it. I want to hear you. Please?”

It was impolite to laugh at the prince— a punishable crime by itself. You were fortunate that he liked you enough.

“Your Highness,” you hummed. His shoulders drooped down, visibly dampening, but he shook his head with a newfound resolve and instead lended all of his attention to you, instead. “It is without saying that the very breath you take is incomparable to any person on this land—”

Your gaze darted upwards, looking at him.

“—but why do you choose to come see me everyday in the garden? Even when I am not around?”

He was still for a moment, fazed and the littlest bit taken aback, but not a second too long for you to spare any worry. A newfound smile playing on his lips, he lifted up your hands that he was holding, pressing a tender kiss on your knuckles.

“Why does the sun rise in the east and set in the west every single day?”

He looked at you, continuing.

“Just because it was made that way.”)

“Daegang.”

The whisper that you sounded in your state of unconsciousness caught Jaemin’s ears as he carried you to a vacant room inside the campus hospital. He looked down at you, your voice as clear as day despite the hoarseness of it, peeling himself away from your closed eyes, lashes fluttering above your cheeks before he could stumble over his own feet.

When he gently dropped you on to the bed, the mattress sinking underneath your weight, his windpipes nearly closed, a choking noise escaping the moment he felt you tug him down by the sleeve of his shirt, but he maintained his composure. He dropped your sling bag onto the bedside table, taking notice on the colorful piece of paper peeking out of the bag’s zipper mouth, a huff of a smile when he closed it up. Even you can be a little disordered, sometimes, he wondered in amusement as he gazed down on you.

Jaemin let out a huff of breath, dropping down the chair placed beside your bed, and he pulled out his phone to send a few messages here and there. An hour passed. He noticed you stirring underneath the sheets.

“Ah, you’re awake!”

Maybe you were, maybe you weren’t. You couldn’t tell if the blurred out silhouette of the face you have grown to both hate and love was a mere figment of your memories, or if he was actually real. There was the temptation brought about by your disorientation— to stretch your arm out to his face just to make sure, but you were lucky that your flimsy consciousness came at just the right time before you were to do anything regretful.

“Ugh.”

“You’ve been out for over an hour. Maybe you should just skip your remaining classes today,” at that point you were sure he was real. Na Jaemin had worry laced all over his voice, expression, and posture. It wasn’t a sight welcome to your peace of mind when you had just woken up after passing the fuck out. “What happened? Did you not get enough sleep? Did you skip breakfast? I asked Jeno to buy some food just in case you wake up and I’m not here, but you were unconscious for longer than I expected.”

“I’m fine, I’ll just—”

A regretful action. You tried to stand up, but all that happened was you falling pathetically back onto the bed.

“...”

“Don’t push yourself, Y/N,” Jaemin sighed, tucking you back in and placing a hand on your forehead, and by god you could hear the alarm bells ringing in your ears. “I checked earlier. It doesn’t seem like you have a fever. Oh? You’re starting to heat up, maybe you actually do—”

“I don’t!”

Was it possible to voluntarily pass out?

You threw the blanket over your head.

It was fortunate that he didn’t decide to press on, and instead he just left you alone underneath your makeshift tent to calm the sudden blazing of your face. Did he know that you were embarrassed? Oh god, did he know that it was because of him? Not that it was, of course, but it wasn’t unlikely for him to assume that he was the cause of your sudden temperature rise. It would be much better for him to believe that you did have a fever. Fuck, you should have just told him that you were sick.

“Knock knock,” outside of your blanket shield, you felt something lightly pressed at the side of your head, prompting you to peek outside, just enough for your eyes to be exposed. When you turned around, you were met by a box of Orion Choco Pie, just one of the few snacks that he had brought for you. “Here, have this. Eat.”

You blankly stared at the red box.

“What are you waiting for?”

“Leave it. I’ll eat once you leave.”

“No can do, missy,” Jaemin clicked his tongue, and without your consent, grabbed your nearest hand and opened it into a palm, placing the far too large box on top of it. “I have to make sure that you actually finish it.”

He was resilient.

Much like someone else, you grumbled, opening the packaging and stealing one of the cakes nestled inside. He had a satisfied smile on his face— almost like a proud parent watching his four year old daughter writing her name for the first time. You wanted to throw the damned snack to his face, but voted against the act and took a bite from it instead. “Fine. But for your information, I might have passed out because I barely got any sleep last night, so stop wasting your worries.”

“That doesn’t make things any better,” he said. “How am I supposed to stop worrying after hearing that? You should take care of yourself, Y/N.”

“I can take care of myself, thank you very much.”

“I’m not buying it. I have to make sure that you’re getting enough sleep every day.”

“What the fuck? Do you think you’re my mom, or something?”

“No, what the hell? Don’t make things weird,” He grimaced, looking at you in disbelief. Holy fuck. You nearly broke out into a fit, if you were being honest. Na Jaemin who was usually all smiley and kind was looking at you with an expression that you were sure his facial muscles didn’t even have the knowledge to conjure. His next words were nothing more than a low grumble. “How can she think I want to be her mom when I like her? Jeez.”

The choco pie that you’d been eating threatened to climb back up your throat.

“Wh— What the fuck?”

“What?” Jaemin replied naively. “One more time? Should I repeat it? Y/N, I like—”

“Okay, okay, I got it the first time, please—!”

Dear lord, he was going to be the death of you. You took in a long, sharp, painful breath.

“I get it.”

Jaemin looked at you with a small smile. He didn’t seem like he was going to continue teasing, so you quickly scared down the remaining chocolate snake inside the box so that you could slip away from him as soon as possible. That wasn’t the best idea, though, because the choco pie almost ended up going down the wrong throat and the guy was sure to freak out over it. Luckily you managed to get away with forcing it down and having Jaemin only looking at you with a minimal amount of concern.

It was time to get the fuck out of here.

“Thank you for the food, Jaemin, but I need to get going,” he didn’t even get the chance to say anything, but you were already on your feet, ready to set out to the door. You looked back at his frozen stature before reaching out for the door handle. “I’ll pay you back some other time.”

You bowed politely. Jaemin had only gotten back to his senses once he’d realized that he couldn’t see your face anymore, only the back of your head— a sight that he’s used to seeing, a reminder of where he stood. He scrambled to his feet and took off after you.

“Wait, you should drink water first! And take these with you! Y/N—”

Shit. He didn’t want you to leave yet. Not when he’s finally had a proper conversation with you. The two of you were already out in the hallway, the glimpse of light from the heavily clouded sky leaking through the windows and coloring the white walls and floor with an out of place brightness and at one point the light stuck on you. It was difficult to match your pace— staying not too far behind, not right beside you, never ahead of you. He swallowed.

Jaemin felt bad about pulling this, but he couldn’t think of any other way to make you stay.

“Daegang.”

You froze on the spot.

There was a heavy weight anchoring Jaemin’s conscience, falling even heavier as you slowly turned around to face him. It fell to the bottom of his stomach the moment he caught your expression.

“How—” you stammered. “Where did you get that name?”

He pressed his lips together tightly, a considerable distance between the both of you as he averted his eyes. “You muttered it earlier while I was carrying you.”

“C—carrying?”

How else would he have hauled you over to the campus hospital? But an obvious fact such as that was still enough to dumb your IQ a couple of notches down. You would have been fine if he didn’t mention it and leave you in your blissful ignorance, but he just had to drill the existence of that fact that you were in his fucking arms when you had sworn to be a piece of shit to him.

The heat was rising to your head again just like earlier.

“Ah.”

You heard Jaemin utter a sound from a few steps in front of you— a light grumble, you’d assumed, but you weren’t entirely sure— and it was at that moment that you’d realized how freaking awkward the distance between the both of you was. Were you social distancing?

His hollow sigh and evident pout threw all of those meager thoughts out the window.

“Is he the reason why I can’t get close to you?

What the hell does he mean?

“An ex you can’t over?”

You broke into a coughing fit. Jaemin instantly ran over to you in panic, patting your back to help appease the violent coughs, but in reality he wasn’t of any help at all because his palm was barely touching you. “Holy fuck”—cough—“oh god. I guess— I guess you can say that...?”

“Sorry,” he mumbled from behind you. “I shouldn’t have brought it up. It must be a sensitive topic.”

“If you knew that it was touchy then why bring it up in the first place,” you shot him a glare, looking back, but it was less threatening and more questioning. You couldn’t bring yourself to get mad at him at this point. He stood there in blatant guilt, his expression, stature, and demeanor without any intention of hiding it all. This was why you couldn’t get mad at him. Jaemin was transparent.

You weren’t sure if it was just his nature or if it had something to do with you.

You wouldn’t know what to do if it was the latter.

His lips finally parted after a moment of silence to answer you— even if you hadn’t expected an answer in the first place.

“I didn’t know how else to make you talk to me a little longer.”

You didn’t know what to do, at all.

Jaemin’s cheeks were stained with a shade of pink and fuck— you could see in his eyes that were looking at you, trying not to look at you, that he was bearing all the sleeves of his heart to you without an ounce of regret, but a euphemism of the bright red color that he was trying to hide.

God.

Why did you have to meet him in this life?

“Why?” you voiced, quiet. “Why do you like me so much? You don’t even know me that well, and I’m not even in any way nice to you.”

He didn’t answer.

“So, why?”

For a moment, Jaemin kept quiet, as if waiting for the pink to fade from his cheeks before doing anything, but it never did. Even when his lips stretched into a closed smile, his eyes crinkling and showing the stars that weren’t in the sky, he was still tinged with that soft, powdery color.

He didn’t wait. He didn’t wait for you to speak when he left— when he left right after saying two words that stretched inside your mind until the sun set in the west and the skies turned pink.

“Just because.”

<prev | MASTERLIST | next>

TAGLIST. @danishmiilk​ @wownajaemin​ @kkakkdugi​ @jccv​ @bat-shark-repellant​ @kiri-ah​ @huanginjoon​ @sehunniepot​ @lvingjaem​ @hiddenzen @lanadreamie​ @w0nni3wrld​ @dnyls​ @doderyscoffee​ @seungstarss​ @patchi-chi​ @marklexleaf​ @thorscrown​ @mieohmy​ @lvoejimin​ @viastro​ @dejvns​ @junglewoos​ @pewpewpwe00​ @unknown5tar​ @chezzontop​ @leejunini​ @lixseu​ @yunoyeol​ @42hyuck​ @keemburley​ @sungchannel @charm-art @eyyyyyyyow @nshitae​ @lolibaaae​ @colpen​ @juyeo-eon @deliciouslyyellow​ @nct-writers​ @czennienet​ @neowritingsnet​ @kpopscape​​

© hannie-dul-set, 2021

[justoneday-namjoonii]

Don’t Breathe | 4.0

»Genre: hitman!au/bountyhunter!au || stalker!au ||

»Warnings: kidnapping, stalking, obsession, themes of potential Stockholm syndrome, mono-phobia, mature elements, manhandling, breakdowns, yandere (? i think ), he thinks it’s cute when she cries, eventually they fall in love, Disclaimer: I do not condone nor suggest stalking/kidnapping or anything of that nature, this is purely fiction.

»Summary: He doesn’t get shaky hands, he never forgets his gloves and he never leaves a trail. He was paid to get rid of everyone who witnessed the exchange between a gang lord and a politician, they were picked off, one by one. He found out a month later, he missed one. A young writer who attended the event where the exchange took place. He has to kill her. Can he do it?

✤ pt.1 - pt.2 - pt.2.5 - pt.3 - pt. 3.5 - pt. 4.0 - pt. 4.5 - pt. 5.0 

A/n: will edit later^^ hope u enjoy💖

taglist: @tangledsparkles @just-another-fangurl21 @impartoftoomanyfandoms @komorebi-unnie​ @tangledsparkles​

The city has always held dark secrets in the shape of hopes and dreams, luring in optimistic ankle-biters, wishing to really become something. And more often than not, it works out. That dreamer gets to live the reality they’ve been waiting for, and it all seems a little too perfect.

“Can I get you anything, sir?”

“One coffee please,” Peeking up from his phone, he acknowledges the petite waitress, “no cream no sugar.”

“Coming right up,” 

He’s gone over the folder a thousand times, just making sure he didn’t miss anything. As far as information on you, he’s got all he needs, now it’s a matter of finding out what you were doing in the 24 hours before you vanished. He was able to stop by the police station and talk with the detective on the case. She wasn’t much help, but she did say Suzy had been calling her twice a day, looking for updates. Jin didn’t contact her as often but he’s been waiting for updates from Yoongi instead.

“Excuse me?” He pulled from his thoughts when he sees the woman in front of him, “Hi, I’m Suzy, you’re Min Yoongi, right?” She looks a bit unsure, he figured she’s just waiting for him to respond.

“Yes, sorry,” He stands up and shakes her hand before they both take a seat, “thank you for coming so short notice.”

“Of course, a meeting was canceled this morning so I had the time,” Sitting her purse in her lap, she tries to look relaxed but the way her brows furrow, he knows she’s worried, “I hope I can help in some way,” 

“How long have you known her?” He opens up a little notepad and takes out a pen.

“Six, Almost seven years now. She was an intern for a while, she’s been writing for us for all that time. Recently, I wanted her to start dabbling in field assignments as a reporter, she wasn’t too keen on the idea but she agreed.”

She glances at the notepad as he quickly jots down little notes. “What was the assignment?”

“A press conference with a lot of the controversy regarding the parties who attended. Quite a few people who attended from some news stations and outlets like that started dying off. She doesn’t really do politics, but I asked her to write an article on it because she was there. On the morning of publication, she didn’t show up to work. The publication was at 8 so I had to look for it so we could publish it. She had been working on it for weeks but it was missing from the writer's archive, it looked like it was deleted. The physical copy was gone and her computer was too. That’s when I went to her house and she was gone...”

The deep furrow in Yoongi’s eyes has her swallowing the lump in her throat.

“She went missing the day the article was supposed to be published? Am I the first person you’ve told this to?” She nods. 

“Why didn’t you tell the police about this? If she went missing the exact same day the article was to be published, that information changes the case. Knowing that others who attended this conference have died, there’s a chance she was being targeted because she was there as well.”

“I- I don’t know, I just didn’t think about it, I never would have thought she’d be targeted for posting a harmless article.”

“I’m going to assume she was being targeted because of the article, it makes the most sense. Someone at that conference didn’t want this to get out and they knew she was writing the article somehow.”

If her heart could sink any lower, it’d be in her feet. She should have never had you write that article, maybe you’d still be here if she had just listened to you. “What does this mean?”

“This city is filled with crooked people in power, there’s a chance that one of them were behind this,” He closes up the notepad and takes one sip of coffee, “I’ll do a little digging and see what I can find.” He pulls his jacket on and tucks a few dollars under his cup.

“Wait,” She stops him, “what can I do to help? I feel like this is my fault, if anything bad happened to her-”

“Don’t blame yourself for this, it could have happened to anyone. Secondly, if you could give me sources on everyone one at the conference; reporters, cameramen, moderators, anyone. Someone had to have witnessed something, and I need to talk to them.”

“Okay, I’ll work on that today.”

Police, detectives, forensic scientist, all the necessary individuals required to pursue a missing person case passed through the station, on their own assignments. One of the detectives on the officers on the case, Jaemin, slips into his office to take a call.

“Hello? Mr. Lee, I’m sorry I could get to you early,”

“That’s fine, I just had a quick question. That missing persons case, you all are getting ready to drop it right? I heard there was investigation still going on,”

“Yes, unfortunately, we have an outside source working on the case and I hear he’s good. But don’t worry, Minho, I can shake him.”

“I hope so, one little reporter shouldn’t have made a big case,” He sighs, annoyed at the thought, “she’s dead, the client got what he asked for. I want this case to close as soon as possible.”

“I hear you, I’ll make sure it happens,”

“Good.”

He hangs up the phone and glances at the man across from him, waiting for the hefty check owed for his handwork on his last job. With a deep sigh, Minho picks up a pen and writes the check quickly and tucks it in an envelope before handing it to him.

“Everything okay, boss?” Jimin takes the envelope with a peachy smile.

“Kim’s last case is causing some problems- Not an error on his part of course, the target was reported missing and an investigation is happening. It was a multiple target case but there was one target that’s just fucking it all up,”

Jimin makes a thoughtful face. “A female? Young?”

“Yes, why do you ask?” Minho crooks a brows.

“He doesn’t seem like the type but I don’t know, where’s the body?”

“He doesn’t disclose that type of information, I respect his decision to do that,” Minho sighs, looking through files of other guild members to match them with clients, “I can’t imagine it’s a pretty process,”

“Well, maybe-” He pauses, finding the thought a bit humorous, “Maybe she’s not dead, y’know, just a theory,” He purses his lips, “but maybe not, his record is so clean, I doubt he’d leave a witness to tell the tale of whatever he does to them. I don’t blame him,” 

“He told me that she’s dead, there’s no doubt about that.”

“Well, if he won’t disclose the body, how can you be sure? And you said he killed the other targets and there’s evidence of that, why is she the only one gone missing?” Jimin makes a nonchalant observation and Minho starts to really think about it, could Taehyung be hiding something? That’s not like him, he’s one of his best. He’s never had to doubt Taehyung, every assignment he’s been given, he’s completed without flaw. He can’t believe Taehyung would do anything to put the organization in jeopardy, he won’t believe it.

“Jimin, can you do me a favor?”

“Anything.”

The smell of blueberry pancakes tantalizes your senses, your eyes sleepily follow his movements from the fridge to the stove every few minutes. He’s making late breakfast because he said he was in the mood for some brunch. You finally get a glimpse at the tall stack of pancakes next to the griddle and you sigh, it looks so good. 

A few days have gone by, and the sleeping arrangements have been different. Some nights, he’ll tell you you can sleep in the spare room and others he’ll have you sleep with him, it’s not entirely unpleasant when you’re with him. He makes you answer questions and tell him about your hopes, dreams, fears, and everything in between. Generally, he's been more lenient with you, not chaining you up so often, letting you roam around a little bit to get some exercise. Lately, he's felt more like your companion than your captor. You’re beginning to see parts of him that are so human. And you’re starting to believe that he’s not lying to you, he’s genuinely trying to protect you. It’s hard to believe that that’s where you’re head is.

He has music on, playing soft study-like songs that make you feel calm. You tried to keep from grinning, like you’d try to contain a cough in a quiet classroom. He sways to the rhythm gently, tapping his foot and flipping the fluffy breakfast treats. How he hums to the song absentmindedly, it reminds you of how Jin used to hum while studying or doing anything really. Taehyung’s voice is really nice, it’s smooth and comforting

“Y/n, come taste,” He turns and holds a fork up with a piece of pancake on it, beckoning you to come to have a bite. You go to him of course, happy to sample what you’ve been smelling for the past thirty minutes. When you come to stand by his side, eye-level with his shoulder, you wait for him to put a piece on a fork for you.

“Say ah,” He holds the fork to your mouth and as silly as you know you might look, you don’t care, you just wanna eat. Your mouth opens and your eyes go wide when it finally meets your taste-buds, “good?”

You nod, it’s as good as it smells. You wonder why you haven’t tried to cook like this for yourself before. Work seemed to consume you, you can admit that. Sometimes, a coffee would suffice as your breakfast. And at night, a drink and a burger with fries from the restaurant down the corner would satisfy you. But cooking, making something for yourself, it hasn’t happened in a while. You used to do it a lot when you first moved when you and Jin were spending a lot of time together. It’s different being by yourself, it’s sometimes easier to over-treat yourself with fast food or quick little meals from local places. Seldom do you get to enjoy a homemade meal made just for you. He’s smiling down at the two plates he’s making when you look up from your daze and for some reason, you feel shy but a little, happy? 

No, stop it. You’re not supposed to feel happy, don’t allow yourself to sink further into that deceiving head-space. Into the space that makes him the source of humanity, the reminder that you’re alive. Finding yourself looking forward to seeing the light in his eyes, hearing the bass in his voice heavy on your ears. It feels good, you relish in it. Yes, you’re still trying to stay on his good side but these positive feelings, they feel too real. 

“Let’s eat somewhere different today,” He gives you your plate with a cup of syrup, a fork, the works. “I think I need a change of scenery,” 

You’re not sure where’s he’s planning to have this breakfast when he starts walking upstairs. For a moment, you think he’s going to his room but then he walks to the room where he’s yet to open since you’ve been here. Your stomach turns, you’ve been wondering what was behind this door.

When he opens the door, he waits for you to enter first, a smile ever so present on his face, he’s in such a good mood. 

You walk inside and the size of the room alone is huge but you’re more surprised by the canvases propped against the wall. The white sheets spotted with colors and a bit bunched at the edges, it’s an art studio of some sort. Is this what he does when he’s home? There’s one canvas on a tall easel and it looks unfinished so he must’ve worked in here not too long ago.

He takes opens the French doors to the balcony and takes a seat on the floor. You do the same, holding your plate above your lap in the same way he’s holding his. The smell of the paint doesn’t bother you too much because of the fresh air, and the blueberry pancakes outweigh the smell as well. “Thank you for breakfast.” You whisper, now cutting into your three fluffy stacked pancakes, what you more interested in at the moment honestly.

“You’re welcome,” He grins to himself, “other than what I’ve been making, what do you like to eat? I’m getting groceries tomorrow,”

You don’t respond, too busy staring out the window in a daze and eating as if he weren’t there. He calls your name to get you to glance at him, just to make sure you can hear him. “Nothing,” You deadpan, “I’m okay...”

“There has to be something you want.”

“Fine,” You set your fork down, a little annoyed, “um, chocolate chip cookies, the ones with the chunks, and almond milk.” Hoping he’s satisfied with your answer, you finish the last bite of your food and continue to enjoy the view outside. 

He takes your plate and sits it in on his so he can take it downstairs, leaving you to the peaceful room by yourself. You’re just now realizing how large his land is. There are other large homes nearby but they’re a fair distance away. 

It’s been a while since you felt the sun on your bare skin or the soothing breeze dance past you. You’ve missed this, running in the early hours of the day when the air is just right. The first people you used to see were a handful of dedicated adults jogging, some accompanied by their dogs.

This paint room has a super tall ceiling, makes you feel like you’re in a museum. When you look at some of the paintings on the floor propped against the wall, you smile. It looks like he likes to paint faces, distinct expressions on faces. Then there are flowers, the basic artist subject. There’s a long wooden desk with paintbrushes, pens, pencils, paper, a lot of paint. 

He comes back to the room, but his presence is oblivious to you for a little while, until his stumbles over a stray paintbrush and you look back at him.

He straightens up, his big eyes staring you down as he walks over to you. “Do you like to paint?”

“I’ve never really done it before, maybe when I was little but that’s about it,” You watch him open up a case and pick out a few brushes. He opens a few tubes of paint and squeezes a small amount on a pallet, then sets that down in front of you, “is that for me?”

“Mhm,” He nods. Gently taking the canvas that’s covered with a sheet from the easel, he puts it on the floor with some of the others. He opens up the closet to look for a nice-sized blank canvas for you to use. You pick up a brush and absentmindedly brush it against your skin to see how soft it is. 

“Here we go,” He adjusts the canvas onto the easel, “come stand here,” He gestures to the little space directly in front of the easel and you oblige, curious.

“You want me to paint something?” You look back at him, a little confused.

“Yeah,” He stands next to you, staring at the blank canvas before looking at you, “only if you want to.”

This is probably the most interesting thing you’ve done since you got here, you figure he’s starting to trust you more. You take a moment to pick a brush, given you have little to no knowledge about this craft, you choose a random one. Not too big, not too small.

He watches you debate over which spot of paint you want to dip the brush in, you decide on blue. A dark blue with a little bit of white. At first, you try to draw a flower, something easy, but it proves to be harder than you anticipated. When you think the brush will make a nice little crescent shape for a petal, it makes an unappealing squiggle. As menial as it seems, its frustrating that it’s not coming out the way you envisioned in your mind. After about five minutes of trying to fix it, your patients get peeled down to its last layer.

“Ugh,” You withdraw your hand and just stare at the canvas, a deep frown on your face, “it’s not coming out right...”

“You have to give it a chance,” He gets up from the bar-stool he was sitting on in front of the desk, “take a step back, and think about something beautiful that little mistake could become.”

Giving up on your small brush, you squeeze a glob of paint on the pallet and exchange the brush for your fingers. He tilts his head when he sees you rub your fingers in the pallet and then drag your hands down the canvas. Coming up behind you, he tries to get a better look at what you're doing. You’ve dipped your hands in different blues and you covered the canvas completely, eyes focused.

Your hand stutters when you see his long fingers mimic the movement that you’d been doing. Being that his size nearly doubles your own, his chest is just centimeters from you. His arms comfortably reach the canvas, as if you weren’t an obstacle. 

“What’re you doing...” You sigh, making gentle brushing motions alongside his, “This is my painting.”

“Oh, so you do want to do this?” His fingers stop all movement, “I didn’t think you cared that much, I’m sorry,” He pulls back, ready to wipe his hands but you grab his wrist with your paint-covered hand.

“I’m kidding,” He didn’t seem to mind getting the paint on his skin because he didn’t get upset, “you’ll probably make it look better anyway.” 

It’s tearing you up. How this feels nice and how you don’t want him to stop. Just standing here, so close to him, and watching his fingers dance across the canvas, it’s torture. When your hands bump, both of you laugh and it makes a pretty burst of blue.

He dips his hand in the lightest shade on the pallet and presses it on the edges of the canvas before you let your hand fall from the art-work. It takes a minute, but he stops putting on the finishing touches and steps back to look it over.

“Hm,” He grabs two rags from the floor, giving one to you and keeping the other for his hands, “I like it.”

You try to wipe your hands clean but they still have a bluish tent. “What about this does something for you?...” 

“I like capturing a moment in time, making my thoughts into something visual and tangible, it’s therapeutic.”

You stare at the painting in an attempt to see something poetic, or anything other than a bunch of blue paints smeared on a canvas. But in your futile attempt, the thought that he might think you’re enjoying this comes to mind, does he think you’re enjoying this? Giving you art supplies to keep your occupied like a little child, you shouldn’t be offended but it does feel a bit patronizing.

“That’s probably why you write, yeah?” He asks, leaning against the stool. “I’ve read all of your articles, you have a beautiful way of expressing yourself through words.”

“It doesn’t always feel that way,” You toss out an honest answer, “I wouldn’t call it therapeutic, but I do enjoy it...”

“I was hoping this room could be an outlet for you, somewhere for you to clear your mind.” 

Lately you’ve been falling into theses moments of zoning out and you just feel like you’re losing your mind. But that’s when he comes behind you, wraps his arms around you and you instantly come back. And it goes like this, almost every day. He gets closer, you let him, and you start to feel more like he wants to trust you.

“What does our painting mean to you?” He shuffles you forward, getting you closer to the painting with his arms still secured around you.

“You tell me first,” You counter.

He takes a look, head tilting a bit, “It makes me think of my childhood, it wasn’t a very colorful one. I was taken from my mother as a toddler after the courts deemed her an unfit parent. She was in a bad place, had no business having a kid anyway.” He rests his head atop yours, mentally slipping into his past to reveal it to you.

“I was in foster homes until I was a teenager, went from house to house every few months. The people who'd come and take me home were either trying to get money from the state or looking for another helpless kid to work for them. I didn’t know it then but I wanted stability, I wanted someone that I could depend on but never got it. I ran away when I was a teenager and depended on my self and here I am.” You can hear a smile in his voice, but you’d dare to say it was pain out of pain.

“It’s all blue, blue can mean stability or loyalty, that’s how I see it.” He let’s his hands slide down your arms and back up to your shoulders to give them a squeeze. “Also, we made it together, so that’s special in itself. Now, your turn,”

“Um,” You purse your lips, “it’s nice...” You answer as if you didn’t know any other words, you’ve never been good with speaking anyway. You rather write paragraphs than ramble on. 

“It is,” He agrees, “but how does it make you feel?” 

“I don’t know,” You frown, pulling his arms off so you can walk off, “it’s just a painting.” It’s cold not having his arms around you but you reason that you need the shock. 

You don’t want to start thinking deep, knowing about his past, sympathizing. You need to look like you don’t care. Does he buy it? Probably not, but sometimes he doesn’t like to force you to talk, it puts you in a foul mood and he notices.

“Just when I think you’re about to open up,” He tsks, shaking his head, “you remind me of the situation, and how you want so badly to make this uncomfortable for both of us.” His cheery mood is faded and you know you screwed this up.

You defend yourself nonetheless. “I’m not trying to make this uncomfortable for anyone, I’m already uncomfortable.”

“You’re such a liar,” He turns you to face him and steps in front of you to eliminate the space, “a bad one though.” You look up at him, trying not to let him intimidate you into backing down. 

“I’m not lying.” Wow, that’s the best defense you could come up with.

“You are,” He pushes his hand through his hair, a stressed furrow in his dark brows, “I’m glad we ended up with each other, really I am. But when you act like this, I can’t say it doesn’t hurt a little,” He leans down, breathing against the apple of your cheek almost. “because I know it’s not how you really feel.” 

Taking his time, he looks your face other, and this is what kills him the most. He gets so close to your face and everything in him wants you to lean in, he waits for the moment that you lean in and eliminate the space between you two. 

Ding dong. You’re saved when the doorbell rings and you use this as your chance to slip away from him. He drops his head and sighs, this was bound to happen, he sort of regrets approaching you anyway. When he leaves he closes the door and leaves you wishing he was anyone else. You could hate anyone else right now.

When he checked the cameras on his phone, he was surprised to see that it was non-other than Park Jimin, what does he want? The bell rings for the second time and he rushes to silence it.

“Kim,” The man smiles, and Taehyung takes in his casual attire, meaning he was off today just like him, “I was beginning to think something happened to you,” His eyes intermediately go to Taehyung’s blue-tinted hands, “sorry to drop in unannounced like this.”

Taehyung makes an offended expression almost, he can’t hide his physical reaction to the concern, it seemed fake. “Didn’t have my phone on me, what do you need? It’s my day off,” His tone isn’t rude, but genuinely confused.

“I, uh,” Jimin rakes his mind for the story he’s supposed to tell, “my cuff-links! I left them in the bathroom that night,” His smile looks a bit too plastered, and when Taehyung doesn’t invite him in he let’s out a nervous laugh, “they’re expensive okay, rubies, can I grab’em?”

Taehyung opens the door wider so he can come in. He just hopes you have enough caution to stay hidden until Jimin leaves. 

“So,” Oh no, he’s making conversation, “been doing some painting?” Jimin disappears into the small hall where the bathroom is to get his “cuff-links,” or so he says. Assuming Taehyung was hiding someone in the house, that evidence wouldn’t be in the guest bathroom. He has to stay in there a little longer, he hasn’t looked around well enough.

“I was,” He was trying to do a little more than that.

“Found’em,” He opens his hands to show the cuff-links that he planted just now, “Hey, can I get some water?” 

“Sure,” Tae goes to the sink to wash his hands and Jimin leans on the large marble island, waiting patiently. Two plates. That’s the first abnormality that he notices. Two place-mats at the table and two sets on dishes in the sink, but it doesn't seem like he’s had any guest, there’s no car in the driveway.

“Y’know, I heard about that missing girl, one of your targets,” Jimin throws it out there, seeing if he’ll take the bait and give a reaction, “I bet that’s stressful.”

“It’ll blow over,” He opens the covert and takes out a glass, “how did you know she was my target?”

Damn, he shouldn’t have said that,

“You know I’m close with Minho, he mentioned it. He said it wasn’t your fault though, the investigators have an outside party helping, that’s why it’s not closing as fast. I have a little question for you,” He grins, “you don’t have to answer but Minho said it was a young girl, a writer, apart of a multiple target case, how did you do it?”

Taehyung sets the glass in front of him. “It doesn’t matter how I did it, as long as it’s done.” 

“You’re as stiff as they come, Kim,” Jimin decides to lay off before Taehyung grows anymore suspicious, “I don’t do target eliminations but if I did, I would spill some details sometimes.” He takes a few gulps of water and looks at Taehyung who hasn’t stopped staring at him for the last few seconds.

“Well, thanks for the water,” He makes his way to the front door and Taehyung is more than happy to walk him out.

“You’re welcome,” He watches Jimin pass through the door and when he sees him get in his car, he closes the door with a sigh of relief. 

He doesn’t go into his art studio for hours after Jimin leaves. He settles for busying himself with going over his next assignment over twenty times.

It’s getting harder and harder to keep this up, he never thought he’d get to this point. Something wasn’t right about that, Jimin isn’t his friend, and he’s never approached him like this—he knows something. When he makes his way upstairs, he tries to brush it off but here you are in his sanctuary to remind him.

“You were gone for a long time, who was that here earlier?” You mumble, barely sparing him a glance from your gaze off the balcony.

“No one you need to worry about,” He’s upset, that much you can tell, “I need you to go back to the basement for a little while, so you need to use the bathroom and eat.”

“What?” You can’t be hearing him correctly. “But why?...”

“Because I said so,” He stands in the doorway, arms crossed and posture uninterested, “let’s not have a repeat of last time,” 

“But I haven’t done anything wrong...” The light drains from your eyes and anxiety pits in your stomach. “Is this because I wouldn't tell you what I felt about the painting?... Taehyung, I-”

“It’s not that.” 

“Then what is it?” You walk inside and tears start to burn at your eyes instantly. You walk over to him and look to him with pleading eyes, hoping he’ll find it in his heart to change his mind. “Taehyung, I hate being down there, I’ll go to the other room, I won’t bother you...Please just don’t make me stay down there.”  Tears stream down your cheeks and 

“There’s an outside investigator who’s looking for you, the police are looking for you, and soon enough the man who hired me will be looking for you too. I’m trying to protect you and make you comfortable but you only like the benefits of getting close to me, you don’t actually appreciate that I’m giving you so much.” His tone is cold, no longer filled with that tinge of adoration and warmth.

“I do appreciate it!” You didn’t think he’d get so upset, you’re trying to save yourself now. “I’m sorry if I made you feel like I don’t-”

“I don’t wanna hear it,” He cuts you off, hands reaching for your arms but missing when you pull away. He grabs your arms with more than enough force and pulls you to him, and this time it hurts, “Don’t fucking pull away from me.”

“B- but,” You whine, wiping your tears as you try to comprehend why he’s acting like this all of a sudden. “Taehyung, please-”

“Shut up!” He lashes out, eyes dark and voice louder than it’s ever been before as his grip on you just tightens. “Stop whining like you’re hurting because you’ve made me feel a lot worse than this. You think I don’t notice what you’re doing? I’ve let you push and pull for as I could,” The volume in his voice seems to increase his physical size somehow and decrease your own, “but your little game isn’t fun anymore, I’m fucking sick of it now.”

“But I’m not-” You try to speak but he clamps a hand over your mouth and the horror of your worse nightmare washes over you. He’s trying to hurt you.

“Be quiet.” He walks forward until your back is pushed up against the wall, letting his hand fall from your mouth slowly so he can take your trembling wrist in his hands. 

“All this time, there was so much I could have done, that I’ve wanted to do, but I’ve waited patiently...” By the way he keeps biting the inside of his cheek, it’s clear that he’s teetering on the edge of something. 

“You’ve been starting to want it too and that’s why you push me away so hard, for some reason you like to deprive yourself.” He cracks a smile and looks up at you’re teary eyes, cooing at the sight of you falling apart.

“But you won’t admit that to yourself, or me. So, the best thing I can do for us is to lock you back up.” You shake your hand but he nods, a cynical glint in his gaze when you lean your head back to stop some of your tears. 

“Why’re you shaking your head no? That’s what has to happen. Here’s how it’ll work; I’ll blindfold you so you don’t even have to see me and I won’t have to see those pretty eyes anymore. Maybe even gag you so I don’t have to hear your sweet little voice say another word. Then I’d have the pleasure of taking you upstairs and giving you a bath each and every day, you wouldn't want to see scary-Taehyung, right? So that blindfold will have to stay on. You’ll just have to trust that the only eyes and hands on you are my own. And every day I’d come down to feed you and you’d know that I’d make your life a living hell if you dared say one word. There would only be a hand full of sounds I would allow you to make,” He tilts his head, amazed by how much color had left your face. 

“How does that sound? You wouldn’t have to be around the big scary-Taehyung anymore, is that what you want?”

Your lips tremble when you attempt to open your mouth and say something, it’s too scary. He’s scary. All this time, you’ve been waiting this out, trying so hard to stay calm and get close, but not too close. And this is the result.

“Answer me.” You shake your head, fearing the sobs that would erupt from your mouth if you spoke. But he doesn’t care, “Ah-ah, I’m not gonna treat you like a little baby just yet, answer me with your words.”

“N- no...” You push out your answer, chest heaving from trying to breathe through your cries.

“No,” He scoffs, mocking your answer, “well had you been the target for anyone other than me, that’s what would have happened to you. You either trust me, or you don’t, you can’t have it in the middle anymore.” Hands still firm on your arms and knee still anchored against you so you can’t move, it’s suffocating. “You have to choose, do you trust me or not?”

“I- I trust you...” You sniffle, nose burning red and your sight blurred from your tears.

“Ah, I don’t believe you,” He drops his hands from you, “I think you need to learn your lesson in the basement until I think you can be honest-”

“No!” You throw your arms around his waist and wail into his chest like a baby. “I- I trust you! I do, please don’t put me down there-” You hiccup, “I’m sorry, I really do trust you, I know you’re only trying to protect me, I get that now. I- I just want to stay with you, I wanna be with you.”

You want to be with him, a sentence he never thought he’d hear you say. He was just trying to scare you into revealing your true feelings but he didn’t expect you to cave that fast. He returns your affection, wrapping his arms around you gently. “Yeah, that’s what you really want?” You nod vigorously, your grip around him so tight it would take a hundred men to pull you off.

“Yes,” You look up at him, and just the quick, the Taehyung that you know is back. Those soft eyes, that gentle smile that wants nothing but to see you smile, make you happy. This is the only Taehyung you ever want to see. 

He caresses your hair, pushing it back from your flushed face. The way you’re staring up at him, it makes him feel like you’re the only people in the universe and he’s swimming in a galaxy made of the stars in your eyes. He wants to eliminate that little space. But you beat him to it. You’re on your tippy-toes and that pesky little space is eliminated and he plunges face-first into the seventh heaven that is you. You have to show him and yourself that you trust him, you want to prove it. Your eyes are sealed tight and you’ve given up all control in favor of him doing as he pleases.

“Mh,” He leans down to lessen your reach and puts your hands around his neck. Breathless, his lips start to tingle and he bites down to regain a more familiar feeling. You’re so soft, just like he imagined. It’s all too much but not enough all at once. 

He carried you away with loving arms, leaving all of his feelings to tip over like a bucket of paint and spill over the blue-stained sheets

* *  *

“Hey boss, I went to his place this morning,” Jimin finally got the call from Minho, “did I see anything? Not really. There were two placemats at the table, two sets of dishes, it kind of looked like he had someone over but there was no one that I could see. Maybe he had someone over last night, I don’t really know,”

“Did you ask about the target?”

“I did, but he gave me a bland answer. He said it doesn’t matter how it’s done as long as it’s done, his usual, sorry I couldn’t be more of more help,” Minho thanks him for his efforts before hanging up the phone. 

“I’m just so scared for her,” She plucks her third tissue from the box in front of her, “I haven’t slept in days.”

Jin drove all this way to sit with your mother, he called her and she said her husband out on business. He couldn’t imagine being alone when your child is missing, the thought alone hurt.

“It’ll be alright,” Jin sits at with your mother, who at one point he thought had a chance of being his mother-in-law. “They’re doing everything they can to find her, she’s a fighter.” He grasps her hand.

“I know,” She sighs, crumpling up the tissue and throwing it in the bin, “you came all this way, have you eaten? I feel like cooking something.”

“I wouldn’t want to make you-”

“Please, I know you have the same favorite meal as Y/n, let me make it for you.” 

“Alright, thank you,” He smiles, watching her leave to the kitchen with a bit more light in her eyes. His phone buzzes in his pocket and he slips it out.

Min Yoongi: I talked to Suzy today and I can almost guarantee that her being missing is related to the handful of reporters who died at a conference she attended a few months ago. Why she was the only person that went missing makes me suspect an alternative motive. I’ll update you if anything changes.

Yoongi slips his phone back in his pocket and walks into the police station, it’s late but he hopes the cop over your case is still in. When he walks up to the front desk and asks, the receptionist points him into the direction of the person he’s looking for.

“Min,” The man smiles, extending his hand and dropping his conversation with the Sargent in front of him.

“Cha Eunwoo, so you’re the lucky guys on this case,” Yoongi has known Eunwoo since his days at the academy. He went FBI and Eunwoo went police department, both choosing paths that fit them the best in the end.

“Yeah,” He scratches the back of his neck, dismissing the guy he was talking to, “I know you’re working alongside us, a personal favor?”

“Something like that, is there somewhere we can talk privately?”

Yoongi doesn’t notice, but there’s a pair of lingering eyes that watch him and Eunwoo moves to his office.

“What’s going on?”

“I talked with the girl's supervisor today,” Yoongi walks around the desk, looking out at the pretty sunset, “I was informed that she went missing the exact same day an article of hers was supposed to be published. This article held details from the conference that have never been revealed. The article's physical and digital copies are gone. Cha, this doesn’t seem like you’re average missing persona case, there’s something bigger going on,” he rests his hands on his hips, bottom-lip tucked between his teeth. “I don’t want to tell her family that just yet, not until I’m sure.”

“You know what,” Eunwoo makes a thoughtful expression, “you could be right. There has been speculation around this case that the abduction was planned for a while now, I think for her sake we should look into that. Thank you Min, this could really change the nature of this case and it’s probably gonna get bigger, especially if we bring the parties at the conference into question.”

Jaemin was hanging outside of the hallway but runs to the restroom when he hears footsteps approach the door. When he’s sure there’s no one else in the stalls he frantically pulls out his phone and makes a call.

“Hello?”

“The case is about to blow up, the PI is onto us and I think the organization is about to be in jeopardy.”

“Damn it,” He sighs, “what do you suggest we do?” 

“You have to tell Kim to reveal the body.”

[mejomonster]

I'm afraid that this romance was only possible because Bai Lin, the homophobic gay, intervened to make impossible for himself to be together with Jidu, since he was so much in love with Bai Lin, that he would have never spared a single glance in Xi Xuan's direction, even when he believed that Bai Lin didn't returned his romantic feelings and only wanted to be friends, just like what happened to Ruo Yu because Xiao Yinhua was too infatuated with Sifeng to notice Ruo Yu. Jidu would only have developed feelings for Xi Xuan if Bai Lin simply never existed. But I agree that, if Sifeng managed to convince Jidu to come back home with him, Sifeng would have happily rode that Moran sized devil dick for the rest of his life unlike that coward who was too up his own ass to entertain the idea of a romantic relationship with Jidu. Even when he was the god of war and a woman, Bai Lin still married a goddess but put a red string of fate in her life pillar and gifted her his flower of blessed love, so she would not feel too lonely, funny that this flower was used to save Sifeng's life after he got stabbed by Ruo Yu and Bai Lin lost his mind consumed by jealousy when he saw Xuanji giving his flower to Sifeng lmao

i kno i didnt respond to this the other day but. WHAT did u even leave me to say? ToT this is perfection. i’m leaving it here. thank u for this. wow in a Better Life the timeline was just a Bit different and Xi Xuan got Luohuo Jidu’s attention, maybe married him (wouldn’t a Second additional inter clan marriage also help keep peace?) and is enjoying the rest of their life together uvu (oh well, at least we can happily say sifeng/xuanji ultimately get that anyway in their last life, just... sooooo much more suffering they couldn’t have met in the 1st life ToT)

mo ran sized devil dick is making me lose my mind thanks a lot

bai lin really was a fucking evil dumbass wasn’t he. he had all THAT and fucking didnt even Appreciate It. AND YOURE RIGHT the fucking bastard even HAD lhjd as god of war, a perfect puppet willing to believe anything he fucking said, and he STILL didn’t marry her or even let her idk get less damn attached to him. he just did the fucking ‘tie you to me’ thing and then kept using her while not committing. bai lin is just. is there anything he HASNT done wrong honestly. every thing that man does i just. how can i hate someone more. truly homophobic gay of the Year

ok so. while luohuo jidu Was infatuated with bai lin by Heaps. I did rewatch the ep 56 scene where bai lin and luohuo jidu talk about the war, right before lhjd drinks the wine. And from what they said (now that i’m calm and not mid watching the whole thing and burning up wanting bai lin to croak) - bai lin is the one who went and made friends with luohuo jidu. presumably who tried to start up their relationship/friendship. (Then apparently also the douche who friendzoned lhjd because he’s??? what a devil?? but bai lin friendzones god of war too so?? - then keeps lhjd/god of war as a possession basically and keeps trying when god of war finally snaps and has to do reincarnations). 

Anyway from a rewatch of the scene.

At least in the drama:

bai lin was interested first and started the friendship (my guess is either he thought lhjd HOT/heroic/charming who wouldn’t, and/or he thought having a general for a friend might be valuable then couldn’t believe how much he ended up in awe of lhjd)

bai lin felt lhjd being a devil was an issue

bai lin ‘fixes’ the issue and gets who he wants

bai lin either can’t accept god of war is Still ultimately that devil and/or that he hurt this person he wanted so badly so he can’t bear responding to god of war’s feelings (that’s the nicer potential interpretation assuming he has any remorse in his evil body)

god of war snaps and he thinks as usual selfishly ‘oh no i’m losing the person i want’ and when she starts reincarnating does his damnedest trying to get xuanji back under control so he can have her again

the flower that shows love incident i think you pointed out once? showing bai lin is still real intent on wanting lhjd/xuanji even after all this shit

bai lin finally fucking tries to marry xuanji after HOW many years, but xuanji isn’t naive lhjd or puppet god of war and she’s NOT doing what he wants anymore!

bai lin may or may not be aware he maybe ‘wants’ xuanji like lover wants. even if he’s still insisting he just wants control (which i mean - he wants control more cause he has not ever shown a loving action). im assuming on some level he’s been refusing to act on the desire to be lhjd/xuanji’s lover all these years because. he is 1. STILL hung up on the idea devils/gods cant be friends or lovers (and he reinforces that belief by telling the human realm to imprison star of mosha bottle for so long). 2. he might be guilty on some very subconcious level that he Betrayed lhjd, sweet lhjd, all that time ago, and made him into a not-devil immortal puppet, and still kinda thinks he shouldn’t take lhjd/xuanji as a lover if he’s already done enough harm (i Wish and would like to Hope he has this last tiny crumb of decency left, but given he’s willing to marry xuanji in the final life i suspect he finally let go of this smidge of potential decency still given to lhjd after all the shit that happened)

sifeng is with xuanji and SUCK ON THAT bai lin. who knew. letting xuanji have her own fucking agency. and being a GOOD fucking person. was all it took. well and being attractive to her. but bai lin had that going too with lhjd and still fucked it up. 

xuanji gets the lhjd piece back that bai lin cut up, god of war re-emerges to push the now fully integrated 3-part xuanji to go and kill bai lin’s ass. bai lin at this point is Fully committed to his delusion that devils Must Always be evil, that he must always be good, and that everything he did to xuanji/lhjd/god of war was justified since apparently she’s a ‘world ending monster.’ 

bai lin is wrong and literally everyone who matters calls his ass out. all because bai lin couldn’t just. fucking appreciate and respect lhjd as a Person. god. god i hate bai lin. (i mean i love him as a character hes a Great Villain, love Liu xueyi, just bai lin u gotta hate ToT)

*still haven’t seen novel so. idk if bai lin being the person who initially pursued luohuo jidu is also true in there or not. 

to be honest i do think luohuo jidu would’ve had a CHANCE to fall in love with xi xuan in a slightly altered timeline, IF he’d met the 2 at the same time. But you are right that once he met bai lin first, he was basically bound to be trusting and loyal until bai lin betrayed him. Because lhjd is good and kind and trusting and hopeful, and all the things sifeng is as He ends up doing much of the same grace for xuanji’s lifetimes.

[hyucksong]

vengeance. pt.2| lee taeyong

summary: You survived, somehow. And you were planning on getting your vengeance. You’d be taking down the company from the inside -- and no one could stop you. (cont. of mafiahacker!taeyong blurb)

warning: cursing, violence, angst, blood

word count: 2k

   A splintering headache graced your consciousness; accompanied by indescribable pain shooting down every nerve in your battered body. With a low groan, you brought a hand up to your face, cracking your jaw loudly. As you pulled your hand away, you noticed blood covering your knuckles and bruises trailing down your arm. 

   Aside from the hangover-like headache and the tangible bruises and cuts, there was a deep hurt that encapsulated your heart and memories. “Damn,” You muttered, “This feels like the worse hangover ever.” With a sigh, you sat up, resting your tired arms on your knees that were pulled up close to your body.

    Scanning the area, you were surprised to see no guards around, or any living thing. A sudden rattling from a nearby trashcan forced a flinch from your body, but the small raccoon that ran from about it spread a smile across your face. 

   “So they leave without checking if their target it actually dead?” You hoisted yourself up, dusting off the dirt and dry flaking blood from your clothes. “Totally professional.” A loud sigh left your lips as you felt around your pockets and felt your keys and wallet. “Dumbasses.” Was all you said before walking out of the back of the building towards the parking lot, and eventually towards your small apartment.

   The keys fell into the bowl with a clink, the sound instilled a familiarity that calmed you as you mulled over the happenings of earlier that night. The single digital clock in your surprisingly tidy apartment beeped to signal the arrival of a new hour, 3:00 am. You paid no mind however, and instead shuffled your feet to your bathroom to inspect the damage done to your body, and most importantly your face. 

   After a mere few seconds of looking, you noticed the chip that was implanted behind your ear by the company must’ve short-circuited, since the area was irritated by a small but stinging burn. You clicked your tongue and touched the various cuts on your face, a strong anger taking over your senses.

   The company wanted to wipe you out for not killing a kid -- how fucked was that? They forced your closest friends to watch you die or die themselves. They hurt not only you, but they hurt what meant most to you. Your heart clenched as the image of Taeyong smiling at you came up, sending your emotions into a frenzy. You rubbed your face with your hands and turned on the shower, getting ready to clean up before devising a plan to bite the sons of bitches where it most hurt them:

   From the Inside.

-

   The Inside was both a literal and tangible place while also being an idiom -- there was a place, or more so group, called the ‘Inside’, consisting of the company’s best field workers and hackers; generally just the best personnel. You were one of the best, yes, but you were never part of this, “Inside”, you were more an all-rounder for all areas of the company that concerned disguise. But the delicious taste of vengeance coated your bloody tongue as you were consumed with the want to take down this bitch of a company; SM. You slept with a smirk on your face, hoping that the company would like what you were going to give them; they could even consider it a ‘going-away’ gift. From you. 

   When you woke up the next morning, you immediately set your plan into motion, knowing that this would take a year at least. Not only did you have to infiltrate the company, you also had to give yourself a whole new identity, which honestly wouldn’t be hard with your level of expertise, but you’d also have to gain the trust of the president of the company to make it into the Inside. There you could have full-time access to the control panels for the security of the company. This would let you go virtually unsuspected and undetectable to cameras, including those to the presidents office. From there you could kill him however you wanted, and trust me did you have ideas. 

   Yes, there were probably shorter ways, but none of them would be as clean and satisfactory as infiltrating from the deepest artery of SM. Grabbing your keys determinedly, you walked out the cozy apartment preparing to go out for a vast shopping spree for new clothes, makeup, a new apartment, and a whole new self. You were willing to spend any expense to get this job done, and you undeniably excited to watch the Jenga tower of the company fall as you took a block from its unstable base. 

-

   The boys were not part of the Inside, they were part of the NCT division. They specialized, generally, in international relations, whereas other divisions specialized in professional thievery or assassinations. Taeyong was the only member part of the Inside since all hackers were unless they were just starting out. Though you longed to see the boys, you knew you wouldn’t see them just wandering around the company floors. 

   You walked into the company on the last day of your sixth month, adorned by your new persona. The once bubbly and extroverted girl the company previously knew was now a cold and robotic individual who was a calculating as they came. You were still doing quite mundane things around the company, like finances and supply checks -- they were boring but necessary predecessors to your end goal. 

   You at at your desk, keeping your uptight personality through a stick-straight posture. You hair was flat-ironed with long bangs that covered your eyebrows, which helped hide your expressions. Your coldness kept people from getting close to you, and while you missed the human contact, you grew used to the loneliness. 

   “Wow, kid. You sure are a natural at this stuff. It’s like you’ve done this all before.” Your supervisor chimed, smiling at you. You suppressed a grin and looked her straight in the eyes, maintaining uncomfortably tense eye contact. “Thank you. The praise is unneeded but very much appreciated.” The high-up shifted awkwardly and quickly nodded before leaving your cubicle. You smirked at your spotless acting.

    “Mrs.Kim Sooyoung, please come up to meeting room five on floor three. Immediately.” You got up quickly and made your way to the said room that was announced over the intercom system. You responded to your new alias just as quick as your own name. You passed by a large mirror on the way, and you briefly glanced at your unrecognizable reflection. Your glasses,contouring and cool-toned makeup shaped a new face; your personality, living space, body language -- all was tailored to Ms.Kim Sooyoung, not L/N Y/N.

   You made your way into the meeting room, almost gasping when you saw the familiar faces of your old friends. You tried hard to skip over the abyss-like eyes of Taeyong, but you couldn’t help it. You rested for a moment on him, drinking in his tired but nonetheless flawless appearance. His eyes seemed to only flick over your face, not sparing you even a second. You internally huffed, knowing that it was better like this. You sat far away from the boys, but the burn of their stare still pained you. However, you wrote on your clipboard, ignoring the curious gazes.

   Chenle, however, ignored this unapproachable-ness and rolled his chair over to you with a childish smile that melted your heart. “You’re the new negotiation specialist, right? You look like it.” He laughed. “I’m Chenle, I’m part of the NCT Dream Division. I’m training to be a disguise specialist like --” He stopped himself, the room growing tense. You clenched your jaw as sadness crept through his expression. “Uh, never mind. Um, what’s your name?”

   You let out an annoyed sigh and turned to him with cold eyes. “Kim Sooyoung.” He waited for the rest of your introduction, but there was none left. Your voice threw him off from his anger, why did you sound so familiar? Your voice was knocking at the innermost parts of his memories. He brushed it off with an awkward smile however, but not before the whole room got the same thoughts. You cursed inwardly at yourself for not changing the tone of your voice. 

   Taeyong’s heart sped up at the sound of your first words; you said Kim Sooyoung, but you sounded so much like the hole in his heart. He shook his head and even rolled his eyes, trying to take his attention off of you, but he couldn’t keep his gaze from shifting back to you every once in a while. The tension didn’t release until the click of a doorknob caught everyone’s attention. Taeyong watched as your stiff body stood up and bowed at ninety degrees at the CEO and President of SM. He scoffed, the Y/N he knew and loved would never do that -- she hated the man.  

   “Mr.CEO, nice to meet you. I’m Kim Sooyoung of the Trades department. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Your voice rang off the walls. It was the only sound in the room. Mr.Sooman only nodded before sitting down in his creaky seat at the head of the table. “I know. You’ve been causing quite a stir, you know. Your negotiation skills are like no other. You’ve managed to get us some new supplies for much less than what they would’ve been. 

   “Thank you for the praise, Mr.Sooman.”

   “You’re welcome. This was why I called you to a meeting. I think your work is spectacular and I would love to promote you to a higher position for a talented division.” He motioned to the boys. “The men here are part of the --”

   “The NCT Division. I know. They consist of 21 members, all in separate sub-divisions of NCT Dream, NCT 127, inactive NCT U; the original, and the Chinese division of WayV.” The president chuckled and quirked an eyebrow at you. You pushed your sliding glasses up, the light shifting and bouncing off of them.

   “I did my research.” 

   “There’s no point in snooping. It’s annoying. What did you look into us for, anyway? Any reason other than because you’re annoying?” Your head whipped towards the sound of the hoarse voice. You met the sharp gaze of Taeyong. You narrowed your eyes at him. “Everyone knows of the divisions. This is a mafia company, after all. Everyone who joins knows. It’s not just a trade enterprise. Please,” You scoffed before continuing, “The only annoying thing here is you and your nagging voice. I’d appreciate it if you’d shut it.” The dead silence of the room made you panic, you definitely over-stepped your boundaries. His dark eyes never left yours.

   “You’re much more sharp-tongued than I previously thought. I’m glad I made this decision.” You cleared your throat and fixed your posture, turning away from Taeyong. “What would that decision be, sir?” He smirked and put his chin on his folded hands. “Well, you’ll be the negotiation specialist of the NCT Division.”

   You mentally cheered, knowing that your plan was drifting down the right river. But you reminded yourself that you had to keep your image. “And why would I want that?” You countered. You heard Taeyong mutter ‘ungrateful bitch’, and ignored the stab it gave your heart.

   “The NCT Division is the best one there is. It’d do you good to accept it.” The threateing voice of Mr.Sooman sent unwelcomed shivers down your spine, and you weakly nodded at his forceful tone. “Yes sir. I’m sorry.” He huffed and stood up.

   “That was all. I’ll leave the rest for Taeyong and the others. They’ll teach you the ropes. Dooyoung is the Negotiations leader, and you’ll shadow him for a while until you’re completely debriefed on how things run. I’ll be taking my leave now.” He left briskly and walked out, the door shutting loudly. 

   “Well, looks like you’re with us now.” You gathered your things and walked towards Dooyoung, who gave you a tight-lipped smile. “Please teach me well, Mr. --”

   “Dooyoung. Just call me Dooyoung. I’ll take you to the offices, so please follow close behind.” You nodded and started out the door, but not before looking at Taeyong and watching how his eyes trailed over you painfully. Your throat dried up and your heart twisted. 

   You found yourself not paying attention to Dooyoung as you repeatedly reminded yourself that you were here to take down SM; there was no way to go back to how things were with Taeyong. 

TO BE CONTINUED IN PART 3...