#Elyzabeth Ivanovich

[xwonderfuldeath]

o| Misunderstanding : 12 |o.

Warnings : This contain some toxic behaviors depiction.

Please, consider supporting me on Ko-Fi ! ♥

It is around eleven PM when the doorbell rings in Jungkook's apartment, pulling him away from his blank sheet of paper that had been untouched since he started working on it about three hours ago when he checked his phone. The young man furrows his brows, not sure who it could be. He wasn’t expecting anyone, and no one had said they were coming. A long sigh escapes his lips as he heads to the door, tossing his empty beer can and grabbing another before finally opening the door to see who the visitor is. His heart skips several beats.

Behind the wooden panel, Taehyung looks like a little angel, wrapped up in a coat that makes him look like he’s wearing a blanket, his gaze lifting from his feet. His hair, once brown, is now red, and Jungkook would be lying if he said this color didn’t make him even cuter. But he remains on guard—last time Taehyung came here, things didn’t go well, and he wasn’t in the mood to argue with his ex. He preferred when things were calm; it was better for everyone.

"—What are you doing here, Taehyung? It's late.

—I’ve been thinking. About everything. Can I come in?

—I’m not sure that’s a good idea...

—Why? Are you afraid I’m going to eat you?"

Jungkook looks him over. Taehyung seems to have completely changed—his attitude, his posture. It’s like everything he blamed him for until now has just vanished. He steps aside, not being able to refuse this new step forward, and Taehyung doesn’t seem to want to stay outside in the freezing rain. He looks around, probably searching for a point of reference, or maybe wondering if Jungkook decided to redecorate. The host is a little lost, almost like it’s a first date. He spins around, offering Taehyung something to drink while he takes off his coat and shoes.

"—Why not? Do you still make cocktails?

—Of course, I’ll make you one. Do you want to sit in the living room?

—No, I’ll come down with you. Is that okay?

—Of course, no problem."

He’s nervous, allowing himself to be followed through the house they once shared for so long before reaching the cocktail-making area in the kitchen. His eyes never leave Taehyung’s form, who sits on the large black leather couch, casually turning on the TV before fixing his gaze on Jungkook. His saliva is stuck in his throat as he looks away, clearing it before speaking again, trying not to let his voice tremble.

"—What are we watching tonight?

—A good old romantic comedy, it’s been a while."

Finally, Jungkook returns with his beer and Taehyung's drink in hand, placing them on the table in front of them. He keeps his distance, maintaining a sense of security, but can’t focus on the movie or drama Taehyung chose. His eyes wander over his ex’s incredibly sexy body, and questions bubble up on his lips. He wants to ask, shout, but at the same time, he wants the calm to last.

"—So, what are you doing here? You didn’t want to talk to me at all and now you show up.

—Can’t I have changed my mind?

—Only if we have a real conversation."

Taehyung slowly turns to look at him with his big eyes, trying to understand him, but Jungkook hides everything. He’s frustrated. He doesn’t like the strange feeling of no longer having control over the situation. He can’t stomach the storm his life had been for so long, and now, he’s trying to find some normalcy, without knowing exactly why. And it eats him up inside.

"—Seriously. What are you looking for? For me to apologize?

—No. I told you, I’ve been thinking.

—And so? Are you coming back home?

—Would you like me to come back?"

He has no idea. His eyes can’t leave Taehyung, scanning him from head to toe, watching him move like a cat, climbing on top of him. Their lips meet over and over, and Jungkook finally lets go. His fingers slide under Taehyung’s clothes, making him softly moan, their bodies pressed against each other. Jungkook pushes him away, sitting up and making him fall back onto the couch with a loud thud. This time, it’s him who’s angry, lost, sad. He’s not a toy to be thrown away and picked back up again. He turns to Taehyung and speaks again, less calmly.

"—So what? We sleep together and forget everything? Seriously, Taehyung! I… I can’t take it anymore!

—I can’t take it either! What do you think? It’s been almost six months since we broke up, and you didn’t even come see me, didn’t chase after me!

—And so? YOU asked me for time!

—And I thought you would fight for me! You didn’t even try to say it wasn’t true, that you weren’t cheating on me!

—Because I didn’t! Never! And I never will!

—But I would’ve liked you to prove it, not your friend!"

Jungkook’s heart is pounding as he stares at him, no idea what he’s even saying. He had never asked anyone to prove they never looked elsewhere. His brows furrow as Taehyung stands up, showing him the message—well, the messages. Yoongi had sent him at least ten, all about his loyalty and the fact that SeeHun couldn’t be the mother of his child.

He reads them all, examining every line, looking for the smallest detail, anything that proves it’s not true. But there’s nothing. Yoongi had really gotten involved in the argument, despite his requests. Taehyung gently takes back his phone, throwing it further away before pushing Jungkook back onto the couch again. Without waiting, he removes his shirt, under Jungkook’s slightly surprised but not disappointed gaze.

"—Let’s forget our differences. I’m sorry I believed what I read online. Let me come home… And I’m sure Kiyeon would love to meet her dad.

—I never told you that you couldn’t come back.

—But you didn’t do anything to enforce visitation rights."

A small smile plays on Jungkook’s lips as their heated lips meet. At first, it’s gentle, making wet noises, then it grows hotter and hotter. Clothes fall off without shame. And it feels so good to be able to hold each other and relearn the body of the other. Jungkook never wanted to let Taehyung go again; he wanted to keep him with him forever.

"—I’m sorry too… I didn’t mean to cut off your freedom. I’ll be more careful, I promise.

—Perfect, let’s start over on good terms then."

Outside, the night is still present when Jungkook turns to look at Taehyung, who’s asleep. He’s still as beautiful with that peaceful expression. His fingers gently stroke Taehyung’s hair as he thinks. He should turn one of the guest rooms into a bedroom for Kiyeon and let Taehyung redo the whole interior decoration. Lost in his thoughts, he’s surprised when his phone vibrates on the nightstand, or maybe on the floor, where he had left it during their little romp. He picks it up, reading the message with deep annoyance.

The pink jeep was on the move.

[kelluarts]

Some wip of my most worked piece for around… 10 years ? Almost not joking…

[xwonderfuldeath]

.o| Misunderstanding : 1 |o.

Warnings : Toxic relation, depression, smoking

Please, consider supporting me on Ko-Fi ! ♥

The heavy silence of the void responds to Jungkook as he pushes open the door of the large house he usually shares with his life partner. His brow is furrowed, and he feels the desire to curl up in his lover's reassuring arms, but there are no signs of life from him.

He knew he hadn’t always been the best man in the world—quite the opposite, in fact. Jungkook knew he could be capricious, strict, and always stubborn during their arguments. But that had never seemed to pose a problem for Taehyung until now. Still, he senses that something is wrong, as if something is missing in the idyllic setting he had always known.

Since he had started dating Taehyung, he had felt like he could move mountains, and he had never once thought he would end up alone in this happiness.

Yet, every door he opens, every place he visits, makes him realize the painful truth that is slowly becoming a reality: Taehyung is no longer here. Panic overwhelms him as he finally pulls out his phone, ready to call the police for a missing person. But first, he makes the smarter decision to try calling his life partner.

Jungkook bites his thumb, searches another room, and tries to hear the sound of a phone ringing. But the silence is deafening in this seemingly empty house.

"- Tae?"

He doesn't have the strength to speak louder. Even though Jungkook doesn't want to face what's happening, he does another round of the house, opening closets to make sure no one is playing a cruel joke on him, before having to come to terms with the harsh, terrifying reality of life. None of Taehyung’s things are here. The only things left are the various messages on the fridge, leaving an impression of emptiness and a sense of despair that takes over him, not knowing who to turn to.

His world is crumbling, and he has no idea what to do or who to call. For the past five years, whenever he wasn't okay, it was always the same person he called—his fiancé. Now that he's gone, who is there for him? No one he wants to hear from, or even see.

Like a child who has lost their anchor, he collapses onto the cold couch, still trying again and again to reach his lover, who still doesn't pick up. Lost in what he is going through, not wanting to believe it's real, he tells himself that tomorrow morning, he'll wake up from this nightmare, and won’t have to keep stressing about it.

Bad idea.

He was wrong, the hell was falling on him, and everything he had done wrong seemed to have decided to bring him a karma as bad as this.

How was he supposed to go on without the pillar of his life? Depression was making its way through him like a terrifying snake wrapping around his body, preventing him from wanting to do anything. Lying on the couch, on the floor, his head tilted back, staring at the white ceiling, now too minimalist for his liking. Taehyung had always said it was too white—maybe if there had been more color, he wouldn't have left?

He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't notice the new person entering the door—one of his closest friends and also an artist: Min Yoongi.

"- Jungkook. What have you been doing for the past week? You haven't answered any of my messages, and your manager is worried.

- He’s gone, Yoongi.

- Who’s gone?

- My boyfriend! He’s gone."

The adult with cat-like eyes stares at him for a few seconds before looking around, as if he couldn’t believe it, scanning the room before focusing his attention back on Jungkook, who hasn’t moved from his contemplation of the ceiling. With a deep sigh, the adult sits down on the couch, letting himself drop onto it before turning his attention to the younger man.

He looks like he's at the end of his rope. Nothing else seems to keep him awake, and judging by the dark circles under his eyes, he hasn't even tried to sleep. He has probably been sitting here since he got home.

Yoongi sighs again, before lighting a cigarette, exhaling thick smoke and rolling himself against the leather couch.

"- You're depressed over a guy?

- It’s not just a guy! I was going to marry him!

- And he left? Probably not the best for you, don’t you think? If he loved you, he wouldn’t leave.

- You’ll never understand anything about love anyway."

Yoongi looks at Jungkook, who clearly takes to heart what he's saying, before furrowing his brow. What exactly was Jungkook complaining about? He’d gotten out of bed early to join him in his depression and even offered comforting words. And yet, Jungkook wasn’t even grateful enough to thank him? What a joke.

With a haunting noise, Yoongi turns like a child caught in the act, taking a drag from his cigarette with a new look—something more strained, colder, more pricked at the core.

It was true that he didn’t have much experience with love. The few people he had managed to have around him had disappeared in no time. Mr. "Bad Boy" wasn’t bad enough for them.

Women, men—he didn’t care about those things. When he did get involved with someone, he did it because he was sure he wanted to be all in, but that clearly didn’t align with his way of being. It wasn’t that serious. Yoongi didn’t hold onto people much. People gave him hives, and he didn’t want to get involved with them anyway.

The last puff of smoke escapes his nostrils before he turns to look at his friend. Jungkook seems on the verge of breaking, his eyes red from the tears he hasn’t let fall yet—proof of his distress. Yoongi tries to be more sympathetic in his actions. After all, he was here to help, not to push him further down.

"- Did you call him? Maybe he has his reasons?

- Yes. He’s not answering. He lets the phone ring! I don’t understand! Everything was perfect!

- Did you say or do something that might have hurt him?

- Of course not! I haven’t always been there to talk to him, but still! We were stable! I don’t understand what’s happening to me…"

This time, treacherous tears roll down Jungkook's cheeks as he runs a hand through his hair. He moves closer, crushing the finished cigarette into the ashtray on the coffee table before looking at his friend’s white ceiling.

Life was sometimes difficult—there were often lows, and sometimes highs. It would be a lie to say that Taehyung was in the habit of leaving without saying anything, and even Yoongi was surprised.

But one thing had to be said: Jungkook strangely protected his relationship, keeping Taehyung all to himself, so much so that even his closest friends had only seen pictures of him. Jealousy—anyone could look at Kim. It was a bit toxic, and to be honest, Yoongi had always thought that the poor guy would have rebelled much sooner. Who wanted to live in the shadow of their partner, locked in a house too big, without even being able to see the outside world?

Not very comforting, but a reality Jungkook should have thought about much earlier. It wasn’t healthy, and anyone could have pointed it out to him.

"- Let him calm down. He’ll come back eventually. When that happens, don’t be too stupid. Let him explain, then see.

- And if he never comes back?

- You said you loved each other and were stable. Why wouldn’t he come back?"

Jungkook looks at him as if seeing Yoongi for the first time, but the words seem to hit him and reassure him. He nods slightly and feels a little lighter. Not completely, but a little better. Jungkook feels like someone has taken the weight of a whole house off his shoulders. And Yoongi was right. After all, they loved each other so much that it was just a matter of time before Kim came back. Jungkook was convinced of it.

At least, he hoped that this scenario would play out quickly, so he wouldn’t have to keep doubting every three minutes.

But time passed terribly slowly. Three more little months since the release of his album, and still no sign of his life partner. It wasn’t for lack of sending several messages or trying other things to reconnect with him. Just little messages, now and then—once or twice... Or maybe ten times a day?

Okay, fine. Yes, Jungkook was literally bombarding Taehyung with messages and pictures, just to make sure the young man wouldn’t forget him, hoping he might feel like responding.

But no. No sign of life. Jungkook once again feels caught in the infernal turmoil of the moment as his head falls against the coffee table. He had adopted a new strategy: stalking.

For three weeks in a row, he had kindly asked Yoongi to do all the cafés in town, knowing that Kim Seokjin, Taehyung’s older brother, owned one. But he had never been there. Jungkook wasn’t a big coffee drinker, but Yoongi was, which was perfect. And even though Yoongi had grumbled for days, he had done it, coming back with a brochure and a stern look before sighing: "You owe me one."

He wouldn’t hesitate to buy him the new luxury brand watch coming out soon. He promised himself that.

Seated at a strategic table, all he had to do now was wait, playing with his coffee cup. According to the information he found online, Seokjin had rehired him for his social media promotion, so he had to be working at the café. All he had to do was wait to see his face and make sure he was okay, to talk man to man. Everything was perfect.

The hours stretched, but it was worth it. Taehyung had indeed entered the large café, but not alone. No. In his arms, a baby—small, adorable, but most importantly, existing.

And Jungkook's world collapsed for the second time. Taehyung had left him... for a baby.

[xwonderfuldeath]

x \ Obsession - Prologue / x

Warnings : None for this one !

Please, consider supporting me on Ko-Fi ! ♥

Taehyung's eyes remained fixed on the letter he held in his hand. It was clearly a contract, handwritten in refined penmanship, offering him a job as a model for Jeon Textile Industries. His eyebrows furrowed, making his already almond-shaped eyes appear even smaller, as he adjusted himself more comfortably in the chair. He lifted his dark gaze from the writing – though it was beautiful – and focused on the man in front of him. Tall and muscular, dressed in a simple tank top under an open jogging jacket, the man had introduced himself as Jung Hoseok, one of Jeon Company’s associates, here to recruit him.

“— I think I don’t quite understand, Mr. Jung. What makes you think I’d want to take Bogum’s place for this job? — The debt left behind by said Bogum, which amounts to – without interest – precisely one million, four hundred and one thousand, eight hundred and ten won. Mr. Jeon is already doing you a great favor by letting you work it off. — It’s not my debt! Mr. Jeon should go after Bogum for it! — Unfortunately, Mr. Park has left without an address or any trace. So, unless you happen to have that sum on you right now, I’d kindly advise you – for your sake and your child’s – to sign this contract.”

Taehyung stared at him, then looked at the contract, and finally back at Hoseok. It wasn’t his fault if Mr. Jeon, however grand and powerful he might be from his enormous office in a skyscraper, had been deceived like everyone else by his ex-fiancé. After all, it wasn’t his problem if that man had let himself be swindled out of so much money. Taehyung had nothing to do with it.

If Jungkook had been able to keep his masculine attributes in check, he wouldn’t have lost his company card or gotten scammed so easily. Taehyung refused to pay for his ex’s mistakes simply because someone else had to take the blame.

Of course, Jungkook couldn’t reimburse himself, but that didn’t give him the right to force innocents to cover others' debts. Besides, Taehyung was also a victim. He had trusted Bogum, just like Mr. Jeon had. He too had been robbed of his savings – the ones meant to help him stay afloat until his shop started turning a profit.

On top of that, Bogum had left him with a baby, claiming the mother would soon return to take the child back. Three months had passed since, and no one had come. So, Taehyung was just as much a victim of that sneaky Park Bogum, who had vanished, leaving behind only a three-month-old child and a mountain of debt.

“— I’ve told you already. This isn’t my fault. — Someone has to pay. I don’t make the rules. Besides, think of this as an opportunity: you’ll avoid shutting your shop and gain a bit more dignity.”

Hoseok wasn’t wrong. It didn’t take much intelligence to see that Taehyung’s situation was disastrous.

He lived above his shop, in a studio barely big enough to fit a couch and a kitchenette. The bathroom was under renovation, and the poor baby didn’t have a proper space to grow up in.

Backed into a corner, Taehyung didn’t have much of a choice anymore. Mr. Jeon’s persistence was becoming unbearable, and if signing this damn document meant no more daily letters, then so be it.

Frustrated, he grabbed a pen from a box and signed at the bottom of the page. There was no need to reread it; he knew every line by heart.

“— I’m glad to see you’ve finally come to your senses. A private jet will take you to your new life. I look forward to seeing you again.”

And so, Kim Taehyung, a single father under thirty, set foot for the first time on the island of Amagui.

From above, the island looked enormous. A thick forest surrounded it, stretching all the way to the edges of the beaches, while paved roads connected the city, a blend of tradition and modernity.

On Amagui, the rules were different from those in South Korea. The island answered to none of the capital’s laws, living by its own texts and its own way. This didn’t stop it from being a hotspot for luxury tourism, continually drawing more visitors – mostly the elite.

Everyone whispered that the island was haunted, but no one had ever been able to prove it. And anyway, while Kim believed extraterrestrials might exist, ghosts were a different matter. He wasn’t afraid of them anyway. After all, what could the dead possibly do to the living?

The drive from the airport to the city took about an hour, giving Taehyung the chance to take in the surroundings before being dropped off in front of the grand building of Jeon Textile Company. It was an enormous structure, tiled in black, with a colorful pathway resembling an unrolled piece of fabric leading directly to the type of entrance typical of such establishments. Four reception desks were stationed there, and the place buzzed like a hive, with employees rushing about, pressed by time and orders.

He approached one of the desks, reading the name tag pinned to the employee’s jacket: Choi-Mi. She was a pretty young blonde with long hair braided and styled into a half-bun. She immediately lifted her almond-shaped light-blue eyes toward him, her face lighting up with a smile.

“- Hello, and welcome to Jeon Company. How may I help you? - Hello. I was told Mr. Jeon is expecting me. - Your name? - Kim Taehyung.”

She quickly typed on her keyboard, her smile fading slightly as her expression turned serious. Pushing back her chair, she stood, revealing her petite stature, and motioned for him to follow her to the elevators.

Curiosity played across her face as she frequently glanced at the baby carrier Taehyung wore gently. The hood obscured part of the baby’s face, but not enough to hide the sweet princess, fast asleep, clutching a stuffed octopus in her tiny fingers. Although half-hidden, the baby looked adorable, her little feet moving in rhythm with the elevator’s ascent.

Still, the young woman remained silent, keeping her questions to herself. Upon reaching the top floor, Choi-Mi knocked three times on the large wooden door before allowing him to enter.

“- Mr. Jeon will see you shortly. He’s in a meeting at the moment, but feel free to help yourself while you wait. — Thank you.”

She bowed politely before heading back to reception, a satisfied smile on her lips. Taehyung stepped into the spacious office.

It was the quintessential wealthy person’s office: a massive wooden desk, two large sofas facing each other, and a bar stocked with bottles that likely cost more than his entire town. A coffee machine stood proudly nearby, complete with real porcelain cups, presumably handmade and custom-designed.

Taehyung was awestruck by the sheer luxury of this simple office. He didn’t dare touch anything, afraid he might accidentally break something. He placed the baby carrier on the glass coffee table in front of him, watching as the little angel stirred slightly from the change in motion.

The pretty doll let out a disgruntled whimper, frustrated by the lack of the reassuring movements from her father’s arms. She wiggled her tiny feet, expressing her disapproval.

“- Oh, someone seems grumpy. Don’t worry, Mina. Just a little longer, and you can come out of there.”

Only a grumpy babble replied. The stuffed octopus met an unfortunate fate in her annoyed little fingers, prompting Taehyung to gently lift her out of the carrier. Holding her delicately in his arms, her large green eyes seemed to brighten.

More cheerful babbling followed as the tiny princess observed her surroundings with wide-eyed wonder.

She had grown so much since he’d taken her in. Four months, and she already looked as though she understood everything. Without this little one, Taehyung might have given up entirely. No one would have mourned him. He had no ties to anyone, anyway.

“- Babies aren’t usually allowed in our establishment, Mr. Kim.”

- You caught me off guard, Mr. Jeon. What was I supposed to do? Leave her in a car in this heat?”

Jeon Jungkook remained silent at the remark, recognizing its logic, as he shut the large door behind him. He didn’t seem particularly moved by the sight of the baby, heading straight to the coffee machine. Out of politeness, he offered Taehyung a cup, which was politely declined.

Silence reigned as the coffee brewed until Jungkook returned to the couch. Sitting across from Taehyung, holding an expensive-looking cup in hand, he flashed a sly smile.

“I’m glad you finally gave in. I thought I’d have to come personally, you know? — Don’t congratulate yourself too much. I didn’t sign because of your charm. — Direct. I like that. As agreed, you’ll have company-provided housing nearby, with full childcare services for your daughter… — Mina. — Mina. She’ll be treated like any other child of the company. Everything is free, of course. But everything will be taken back if you break our contract. — I’ve read the fine print. — Perfect. Here are your house keys and your company car’s keys. You’ll find your phone, work computer, and schedule on a tablet at your new home. Any questions? — You mentioned the word ‘model’ in the contract, but it was vague. — Oh, believe me, you won’t regret signing.”

Jungkook said this, but Taehyung already bitterly regretted agreeing to sell his soul to a man like him. He had only known him for a few minutes and already wanted to wipe that smug smile and arrogant expression off his face. Yet again, he held back any remarks. He needed this job.

It would likely last only until Jungkook tired of this little game, but Taehyung didn’t mind much. He was rather pleased to have a car and a roof over his head, which he hoped was big enough to finally have a room and bed of his own, without having to give everything up for little Mina.

The company housing was simple: a small, fully renovated house at the back of a large, luxurious property, right next to an estate that seemed at least a century old. It was functional. There was even a room for the baby, though the walls were bare, and the furniture seemed randomly placed, devoid of any warmth or personality.

“- We’re home, Mina. Do you like it?”

The little one made a sound somewhere between displeasure and fatigue, drawing a laugh from Taehyung. He nodded approvingly, taking in the space with the same sense of emptiness. But that wasn’t important.

They just needed to paint, add more colors, hang some pictures here and there, add decorations… and they’d feel happy to be here. He was certain of it.

[xwonderfuldeath]

.o| Misunderstanding : O |o.

Warnings : This contain some toxic behaviors depiction.

Please, consider supporting me on Ko-Fi ! ♥

"Seehun, the lead dancer of the world’s biggest K-pop star, Jeon Jungkook, reveals all about her little love life secrets."

Taehyung wasn’t sure why he let his curiosity take over and clicked on the link. After all, he had never really been interested in Seehun’s life or the artists who accompanied his “almost-husband” wherever he went. Jungkook was a jealous, possessive man. Taehyung had never had any reason to doubt him, even when he was far away.

For five years of being a couple, Taehyung had believed in their unshakable love. Jungkook had even proposed three years ago, though they had never set a date for the ceremony. It had never seemed important... until now. What mattered, at that very moment, was this article.He had never felt so humiliated. His heart skipped a few beats, and his fingers trembled as he held his phone.

It’s a joke. Just a joke, he tried to convince himself.

Seehun must be imagining things. This girl was a brat, convinced that everything was owed to her because she was pretty. Taehyung had guessed from the first time they met that she was the kind of person who must have been a bitch at school. Probably a bully, someone who never questioned herself.

He was convinced of it since the day Jungkook brought her home after hiring her as the lead dancer. Taehyung had never been able to stand Seehun. Her gaze, her way of being... everything about her seemed fake. But Jungkook hadn’t wanted to listen:

“— You’re just jealous and stubborn, it’s nothing to make a fuss about."

What a joke.”

His eyes scanned the lines of the article, each word stabbing his heart like a knife. Seehun described in chilling detail their torrid nights together and claimed they had been in love for a year. Worse still, she said they were going to start a family: she was pregnant, with a pregnancy test as proof.

At first, Taehyung didn’t know what to do. Call Jungkook? Tell him about this scandal? But Jungkook was on tour for his new album, supposedly written with thoughts of “the love of his life.”

Taehyung stayed seated on the large luxurious couch for hours, his eyes glued to the article, already going viral. The great Jeon Jungkook in a relationship and soon-to-be father? Of course, everyone wanted to know more.

Finally, he gave up on finding any explanations. He walked to their massive walk-in closet and quickly packed his bags. Jungkook was the main spender in their relationship. A big house, a huge closet, a perfect garden... Taehyung should have realized it from the start. You don’t make these kinds of plans just for two people; it was a house meant for a full family.

With his suitcase in hand, Taehyung wandered the streets before ending up in the arms of his best friend, Jimin, who was surprised to see him arrive so weak and lost.

“— He cheated on me, Jimin... He lied to me! Him and his sweet words: “Don’t worry, Taehyung, I’ll tell the whole world we’re together after the wedding!” And I believed him!

— That son of a... Do you want me to go beat him up?

— Park Jimin, your language.

— But Jin!

— There are more civilized ways to talk about destroying the face of a cheater, Jin replied seriously.”

Jimin looked at the oldest of the three with a lost baby face before finally smiling. Of course, Seokjin, the oldest of the Kims, hadn’t hesitated to come to Jimin’s place to figure out what was going on with one of his two “little brothers.”

When he had learned about Jungkook’s infidelities, he saw red. He launched into one of his usual rants: Getting involved with a rich person is always a bad idea. Rich people are sneaky, always ready to stab you in the back.

Seokjin spoke from experience. He had his heart broken by a certain Kim Namjoon during his university years, where he was studying business management. This man, from a wealthy family, had disappeared overnight at the end of the year, leaving Seokjin with a broken heart. Since then, he had preached an anti-rich philosophy. And today, poor Jungkook was paying the price.

But Taehyung couldn’t defend Jungkook anymore. The evidence was overwhelming: he had been cheating on him shamelessly for a year.

A deep sigh escaped Taehyung as he placed his forehead against the table, closing his eyes for a moment. He didn’t want to have this conversation. He just wanted peace and to forget that Jungkook existed.

“— Let’s drink to our little Tae’s new single life!

— You’re a bit too happy, Jin. Don’t you want to be a little more discreet?

— Why pretend? Now, Taehyung can get his life back on track, post online, and do what he loves without anyone jumping on him.”

Taehyung raised his head. Jin was right: he could finally focus on Seokjin’s website and promote the restaurant, something he had done before Jungkook came into his life. Jungkook’s label had been clear: Taehyung had to stay invisible to protect their relationship. For five years, he had lived in silence, deprived of what he loved.

In the end, it wasn’t such a bad thing. He could finally live for himself, without fear of being scolded like a child.

“— You needed someone for the website, right? I thought you had found someone.

— No, he was terrible. Customers kept complaining. I had to fire him. The position is vacant.

— Great! Now we can go back to the restaurant without feeling like we’re being served by an alien.

— I’m not an alien! Taehyung protested, amused.”

The evening passed without incident, warming his broken heart. But when the calm returned, Taehyung couldn’t help but check his phone. No messages, no responses. Jungkook should have been on a break.

So it’s all true, he thought. Otherwise, why would he stay silent?

It was with this thought that he fell asleep, curled up against Jimin, the rhythm of his best friend’s heartbeat soothing his pain.

[xwonderfuldeath]

o| Misunderstanding : 11 |o.

Warnings : This contain some toxic behaviors depiction.

Please, consider supporting me on Ko-Fi ! ♥

His lighter in one hand, a pack of cigarettes in the other, Kim Namjoon glared darkly at the building in front of him.

He’d received a strange call, about something he hadn’t fully understood—his caller, male or female, had gone to great lengths to disguise their voice. Unfortunately for him, by the time he figured out where they were calling from, he was already late. Again.

A deep, desperate sigh escaped his lips as he nonchalantly pushed open the scorched door with his foot.

The building was nothing but ashes and charred remains now. Yet, strangely, there wasn’t that all-too-familiar stench of burnt flesh—the sickening smell of roasted pork he hated so much.

A noise behind him didn’t even make him flinch as he finally lit his cigarette, taking a deep drag—he desperately needed the nicotine. His eyes turned to face the newcomer behind him: Hoseok, with his usual smirk and sparkling eyes. Just thinking about his snarky remarks was already giving Namjoon a headache.

“—I’ve seen a lot of shit in our time. But this? This takes the cake. You sure you didn’t piss someone off? - No one comes to mind. Did you manage to decode it?” - Decode what? The message? Nothing. We’ll find jack shit. And to think I invested half a million in this place.”

Hoseok kicked the charred debris at his feet. Money wasn’t exactly a problem, but Namjoon knew him well enough to understand how much he cared about the buildings he invested in—they were sort of like his long-term babies. So this? This was a personal insult.

They kept walking, not really expecting to find anything solid. The fire had likely wiped out all traces that could’ve led them somewhere.

The walls were coal black, even the stonework had suffered. It would take a long time to rebuild. Again.

And though money wasn’t an issue, Namjoon was slowly growing tired of this constant, senseless war.

“—There’s something here.”

Another kick—this time aimed at what used to be the director’s desk—sent it crashing to the ground. Namjoon watched Hoseok curse under his breath.

On the wall, barely visible at first glance, was the same thing again. The drawing was less subtle than the previous ones, more clearly painted on the wall. The color and smell left little to the imagination:

Blood had been used to paint a hibiscus flower. A spider web spread in the background, with a blood-soaked butterfly at the center—a subtle but unmistakable threat. Beneath it, the name of the criminal group: 재된 난초 ("The Orchid That Turned to Ash").

They had been dancing around each other for a while now—a few fires had disrupted their business, but nothing too serious until today. Just neighborly squabbles. This time, though, they’d hit hard—destroying one of their main buildings.

Namjoon finally dropped his cigarette onto the charred floor and turned on his heel. He’d seen enough.

“—What do we do now? - Nothing. We know nothing about them, even though they clearly know a lot about us. Any news on the pink Jeep? - Nothing. Haven’t seen it since I moved. - And Heisukei, what did he want? - Nothing important. Just some small talk. He has a shipment headed to the port next month—he’s giving it to us in exchange for a few favors. Yoongi’s handling it. - Perfect. Stay alert—I don’t think this is the end of it. Move the girls to the lesser-known locations and put our men on high alert.” - Got it.”

With one last kick under Namjoon’s questioning gaze, Hoseok left the room and stepped back outside, leaving Namjoon alone. There wasn’t much left to do, so he stepped out into the freezing air, his eyes drifting to the thick snow clouds above.

In the end, his instinct took him to the café—more precisely, to check on Seokjin.

Behind the glass, he could see the place buzzing like a beehive. Now that winter had truly arrived and the holidays were fast approaching, the café was packed.

They still had to finalize the publicity plans for the new café opening right at Christmas—just a month away. It was the perfect excuse to step inside.

The young woman behind the counter glanced at him curiously, her hair dyed festive green and red, sprinkled with glitter. Choi-Mi didn’t even wait for him to speak before turning toward the kitchen.

“—Boss! Your favorite pain in the ass is here! - Coming!”

The nickname made him frown, but he let it slide this time.

Instead, he watched Seokjin step out from the back, flour covering his clothes, a ridiculous elf hat on his head—causing Namjoon to raise an eyebrow. It wasn’t even carnival season, as far as he knew.

“—You look ridiculous. - I’ll take that as a compliment. What can I do for you? We didn’t have an appointment. - True, but you didn’t give me any updates, so I came to get them myself.”

Seokjin nodded slowly and motioned for him to follow upstairs.

Namjoon had never gone beyond the main seating area before. He didn’t even know the café had an upper level, let alone that it led to a small open lounge. A terrace stood proudly behind a large bay window, hidden by the sign outside—probably to give the café staff some privacy.

Seokjin gestured for him to take a seat in the office, decorated with two large couches facing each other and a laptop on the table. Namjoon didn’t hesitate, eyes wandering around curiously before settling back on Seokjin, who was already bent over his laptop, typing rapidly.

“—So, you want to use Jimin, from what I understand? Why not. Do you already have a track ready? - I was thinking of something Christmassy—maybe traditional carols? Or even a Christmas-style rap? - That could work. With Jimin, the theme could be cleverly handled. When can we hit the studio? - Don’t trust me?” - How could I, when you paid ten times more than me to cancel my old contract?”

That hit home.

Seokjin was smarter than Namjoon had given him credit for. He bit his lower lip, a mocking smirk playing on his face. Come to think of it, they weren’t the same kids they used to be. Seokjin had grown up more than he realized.

Namjoon slowly leaned back against the couch, locking eyes with Jin before speaking again.

“—It wasn’t very fair, I’ll admit. But you didn’t even ask me for help. I had no other choice. - You could’ve just asked me. I don’t bite, as far as I know. - I’ll keep that in mind next time. You really are impossible to hide anything from.”

Seokjin gave him a small smile and sank more comfortably into the couch.

It felt good to reconnect, even just a little. But a gap still lingered between them. Jin would rather have his tongue ripped out than fall back into Namjoon’s arms that easily a second time.

Time stretched enough for the project to be finalized and a date set.

When Namjoon finally left the café, Seokjin watched him go, a strange smile on his lips and his phone in hand, fingers typing fast.

The sheep is in the abyss. Time to move on to phase two.

[xwonderfuldeath]

o| Misunderstanding : 10 |o.

Warnings : This contain some toxic behaviors depiction.

Please, consider supporting me on Ko-Fi ! ♥

The clock on the living room wall was nearing three in the afternoon, and Jimin found himself wondering what he was even doing there. It had been nearly three months since he signed the contract, and two since he and Yoongi had started orbiting each other.

Well—not just a little. A lot. Enough that even Taehyung and Choi-Mi had started to notice, which was saying something. Choi-Mi didn’t give a damn about that kind of thing. So the fact that she’d sensed something brewing around her was a miracle in itself. She didn’t even notice people flirting with her.

Anyway, everyone knew something was going on between the dancer and the artist, and Jimin had finally given in to the temptation of Yoongi’s soft sheets a week ago. It was physical. God, the man was good in bed. So good that Jimin had started enjoying things he never imagined he could.

But now, it was exactly 3PM, and everything felt… off. Illusory. After all, they weren’t officially together. And sure, there was something between them—but was it real attraction? He wasn’t sure. Maybe it was nothing, but Jimin was starting to feel uncomfortable being there, like something was off… something wrong in the air.

“— You okay?”

The voice startled him, a yelp slipping out before he could stop it, and he turned to see Yoongi’s amused gaze. He slumped into the armchair across from the couch, his head resting back against the seat as he let out a deep sigh. Min Yoongi was a strange man. Jimin had thought so ever since he first saw him on stage, five years ago.

And since then, some things about him remained a mystery. Like why Mr. Min was so secretive about his late-night outings, or why Jimin wasn’t allowed in the basement. It was stupid, maybe, but locked doors before you’re even a real couple? That didn’t scream “healthy relationship.” More like a red flag.

“— What? Is there a problem?

— Do you sleep with your dancers often?

— Are you high or something?

— Just answer me. Do you?

— No. You're the first.

— Okay.”

Yoongi looked at him, skeptical, head rolling lazily against the back of the couch as he glanced at the figure across from him. He wasn’t as smart as Namjoon, maybe, but he wasn’t an idiot either. Something was clearly wrong, and he didn’t like having to dig for answers. Speak up, or stay silent.

“— That’s it?

— Yeah. Why?

— We haven’t known each other long, but I can tell something’s bothering you. So spit it out. Save us both the time.

— Did you ever sleep with SeeHun?”

A laugh escaped Yoongi—somewhere between disbelief and mockery. Everyone knew that if SeeHun lay down, it was never to get back up. That girl was a mess. Either she had no self-respect, or way too much, depending on who you asked. No, he’d never slept with her. He didn’t like easy girls. They made him sick. Where was the challenge? The fire? A one-night stand was fine, but even he had limits. And SeeHun was the limit.

“— No, I didn’t sleep with her.

— Are you sure?”

— Of course I’m sure, what the fuck are you on about?”

Yoongi stood up suddenly, his foot slamming into the coffee table and making Jimin jump. The rapper’s eyes—sharp, dark—glared at him, his frustration crackling in the air. Jimin stood too, not about to back down. He was right. Something was off in this house. And he was glad he asked. After all, SeeHun had been everywhere, claiming she and Yoongi had hooked up—enough to say she got pregnant.

It was disgusting.

Yoongi liked to call himself Jungkook’s friend, and even if Jimin didn’t like the girl much, that didn’t justify that. Knocking up your best friend’s girlfriend? That was just vile. But you couldn’t believe everything the tabloids said. Jimin didn’t want to end up like Taehyung. Maybe he was overthinking things. Maybe it was too early for this kind of drama. Hell, he wasn’t even sure if he and Yoongi were technically a couple.

“— Damn it, can’t you just trust me a little?

— Trust? When we’ve only known each other two months and slept together for one?

— Yeah. Exactly. If you already don’t trust me, what’s the point in going on?”

He had a point.

Jimin watched him leave, cigarette pack in hand, as he just stood there staring at the patio door Yoongi had slammed shut. He felt guilty—ashamed, even—for starting such a pointless fight. Biting his lip, he finally left the room, heading for the luxurious bathroom. Yoongi’s place was more of a palace than an apartment. Everything was huge—bedroom, bathroom, kitchen. Minimalist, but dark: black furniture, black curtains, white walls—probably to keep it from being completely pitch black.

Jimin let the burning water wash over him, trying to relax as he closed his eyes and wondered how to make it up to him. They weren’t five years deep into this. They weren’t married. This kind of drama? That was Taehyung and Jungkook’s territory. Not his.

He didn’t even bother with a towel. He walked naked to the bedroom and slipped under the cool sheets, staring up at the ceiling.

He wasn’t surprised when Yoongi’s body joined his. The menthol scent of cigarettes hit his nose as Yoongi kissed the back of his neck. Hands found him fast, relearning the curves of his body, and Jimin turned to look at him. Their lips met in a soft kiss, and he climbed onto Yoongi’s hips, his hands brushing over his shoulders, eyes locked.

“— I’m sorry about earlier. You were right. We shouldn’t fight over something so small, this early on.

— I’m not mad. With all the bullshit those vultures write, it’s only normal to doubt. Get mad all you want.”

Their bodies collided again, heat rising between them well into the night. Yoongi watched him sleep, fingers tangled in Jimin’s messy hair. He looked so peaceful, naked under the sheets. If only he knew how long Yoongi had wanted this… He wasn’t going to let that bitch ruin everything. Not after all this planning.

He slipped from the bed like a ghost, grabbed his phone, and lit a new cigarette as he stared out at the garden.

I need your help. We’ve got a little… problem.

[xwonderfuldeath]

o| Misunderstanding : 8 |o.

Warnings : This contain some toxic behaviors depiction.

Please, consider supporting me on Ko-Fi ! ♥

A deep, heavy sigh escapes Seokjin’s lips as he stares at the email in front of him. Someone had just pulled the worst trick on him in his entire career as a café manager. The band he had spent hundreds of won on had completely bailed on him, offering no excuse that could make him feel sympathetic toward them. With a swift motion, he slams his laptop shut and runs a frustrated hand through his hair. So much had happened in just one week.

Taehyung seemed even more depressed but refused to talk. Jimin spent his days running back and forth between helping at the café and his new job — he only had a year to prove his worth, so he barely had time for anything else. And let’s not even mention his head waitress, who seemed entirely lost in her own thoughts. Seokjin felt like he was the only one without issues or the need to vent — at least, until now.

Now, with this new problem, he wasn’t even sure if he could promote his latest creation before Christmas after being stood up like this.

“– A latte, with sugar, please.”

He lifts his eyes, dazed, meeting the gaze of someone he hasn’t seen in a while. Namjoon looks even more handsome than before, with his crooked smile and tired eyes. He hadn’t been to the café since "the incident" — probably because of the coldness Seokjin showed when he left the apartment. Seokjin could have texted him or even gone to his place to talk. But what would he say? Honestly, there wasn’t much left to say. Namjoon had left once — what would stop him from leaving a second time?

“– Is that all? Nothing else? – I doubt you’d agree if I asked for more. – Why? I sell cakes. You want a pastry? – You’re still slow on the uptake, huh?”

Seokjin doesn’t know why, but his cheeks flush at the remark. It was true — he never really caught on to subtle hints or playful words. How many times had he been flirted with without even realizing it? He doesn’t say anything else, preparing the coffee before realizing he hadn’t asked if Namjoon wanted it to go. In the end, he tells him he’ll bring it to his table, and Namjoon doesn’t complain, heading to the crowded seating area.

Despite the rain picking up, the days before the holidays were ticking down, pushing people to indulge — not to mention the tourists. The café had been packed for days, enough for Seokjin to consider hiring someone else to help his two overwhelmed waitresses.

“– Are you free tonight? – Why? – I just want to. Can’t I want to see you? – I don’t know. You didn’t seem to want to until now, so excuse me for having doubts.”

It was harsh — Seokjin knows that — but he wasn’t in the mood to get caught up with the only ex he ever had, the one he never really got over. Seokjin had bigger problems. He needed to find a new, relatively unknown band to give his café the same kind of high-quality promotion he’d originally planned.

A deep sigh escapes him as he rests his forehead against his locker. The day felt long — maybe too long. He needed a hot bath, surrounded by chamomile and red roses, with a strong whiskey in hand, enough to drink himself into forgetting who he was… or maybe even make the mistake of calling Namjoon.

The cool night air helps him feel a little better. Hands buried in his pockets, he’s surprised to see Namjoon’s sleek black car parked right across from the café. He takes a deep breath before walking over and gently tapping on the window, surprising both Namjoon and himself.

“– Still up for tonight? – Always. Get in.”

He doesn’t hesitate, slipping into the passenger seat. The ride is silent, Seokjin nervously fidgeting with his fingers. He wants to say something, but what? Everything in his head is about work or old grievances about how Namjoon left and never came back.

When they finally stop, they’re parked in front of a fancy restaurant. Seokjin’s heard of the place before, but he could never afford to eat there. He feels small, shy, trailing after Namjoon like a lost duckling. Namjoon speaks for both of them. Everyone seems to know him, everyone seems to like him — a familiar pang stings Seokjin’s chest. Everyone always liked Namjoon more. Even when they were close, Seokjin always felt like the extra piece that didn’t quite fit. Maybe that’s why he disappeared from Namjoon’s perfect little life.

Maybe because he wasn’t like the others.

He regrets coming, even though he was the one who reached out first. He feels out of place but says nothing. Everything around them screams luxury and power — the round table for two overlooks the mountains surrounding Seoul, the romantic, honeyed atmosphere making him let out a dry, bitter laugh.

“– I expected pizza, not a five-star restaurant. – We’re past the age for pizza and soda, don’t you think? We’re too old for all that sugar. – Really? I don’t think there’s an age limit for that kind of stuff. – Well, they have pizza on the menu if you want it. But it’s kind of a waste to come here for something so basic.

– You didn’t mind being basic before.”

Another jab. It makes Namjoon smile, and Seokjin stares down at the menu, regretting this whole thing. He fidgets with the menu before ordering. Everything is ridiculously expensive — 220,076.09 won for a salad? What did they put in it, diamonds?

Still, he indulges. It’s not like he’s paying. He orders the salad, truffle spaghetti, and an extravagant chocolate dessert with a complicated name — all under Namjoon’s watchful gaze. Namjoon doesn’t complain, adding his own dishes and a bottle of expensive champagne that makes Seokjin look up from the menu.

“– Champagne? What are we celebrating? – Our reunion. And maybe... a new beginning for our friendship?” – Wow. Aren’t you getting ahead of yourself? I’m just the café guy you visit for coffee every day, Namjoon. Nothing more. – And yet, here we are. Don’t tell me you’re not happy to be here. – I’m here because I needed to get out. Don’t flatter yourself — I could’ve gone out with anyone tonight. – But not just anyone could bring you here."

Seokjin rolls his eyes. There it is — the same old "Look at me, Seokjin. I’m not like everyone else. I can pay for a fancy restaurant without worrying about money."

He hadn’t changed much since college — and yet, somehow, he’d changed completely.

The dishes arrive one after another, and it would be a lie to say they weren’t delicious. Everything is exquisite. Namjoon seems amused by Seokjin’s reactions to each new flavor that bursts on his tongue.

When the dessert finally arrives — an intricate chocolate cake with a glossy finish that looks too perfect to eat — Namjoon starts talking.

“– You need a band to promote your café.” – How do you know that? – I have my sources. I can help you if you want. – And how exactly would you do that? – I’ll promote your café myself. We can use your friend Jimin — that way, Yoongi can see his potential. – Why would I say yes to that? – Because otherwise, you’ll end up with no one.”

The tone leaves no room for argument. Seokjin stares at him, a little lost, a little offended. Namjoon hadn’t been this cold in a long time — and never with him.

But Seokjin says nothing, watching as Namjoon abruptly excuses himself to answer his phone, leaving the table in a rush.

He sits there, feeling abandoned all over again.

Namjoon is hiding something — Seokjin just has no idea.

[xwonderfuldeath]

o| Misunderstanding : 5 |o.

Warnings : This contain some toxic behaviors depiction.

Please, consider supporting me on Ko-Fi ! ♥

"- Mr. Min, I told you to meet me later.

- But I wanted to come now."

Sitting across from each other, the two men stare, sizing each other up, until Jimin finally sighs. Ever since he had accepted this man as a friend on social media, he had been bombarded with countless messages. Most seemed professional—questions about his availability or when they could meet to discuss a potential collaboration. Not a single day passed without Yoongi sending him a message, even if it was just a simple emoji, which tended to make him a little tense and, more than anything, confused.

Even today, Yoongi had asked him to meet at a luxurious café, but Jimin simply didn’t have the time. He was juggling jobs, doing his best to stay afloat while waiting for an answer about something more stable. He had told Yoongi to wait… but clearly, patience wasn’t one of his strong suits.

"- Now that I’m here, what’s so important, Mr. Min?

- The best news of your life—I’m accepting you as my dancer."

Nonchalantly, he placed a contract in front of Jimin, already filled out and signed by his own hand. Jimin hesitantly pulled it toward him. It was the first time someone had accepted him, and he wasn’t sure how to react to the news.

His eyes scanned the black lines of text, reading carefully, making sure he wasn’t being tricked. Then, he looked back up at Yoongi. The man seemed ecstatic, bouncing slightly in his seat, a small smirk on his lips. He looked like a cat eyeing a helpless bird, ready to pounce. A shiver ran down Jimin’s spine, and he turned his attention back to the pages in front of him. Something caught his eye, making him frown, and he looked up again.

"- There won’t be a tour this year with me? Or not at all?

- A tour takes preparation. Unfortunately, we haven’t been able to plan one due to our little dancer issue… which will only be resolved once you sign that paper."

He sounded impatient. Another one of Mr. Min’s flaws—he clearly wasn’t very patient. A faint smile tugged at Jimin’s lips, but he didn’t want to miss this incredible opportunity. So, without further hesitation, he signed the papers and handed them back to the rapper, who meticulously checked that everything was in order before nodding in satisfaction. He carefully stored the contract before turning his attention back to Jimin, looking much more relaxed, as if he had actually feared Jimin would pass up the opportunity of a lifetime.

"- A copy will be sent to your current address. You’ll start as soon as you receive it.

- Alright, sounds good.

- Now that this is settled… Tell me, Taehyung’s kid—who’s the father?

- Why?

- Just curious."

Jimin remained silent, searching for the right words. He wasn’t about to say that his best friend, Jeon Jungkook, was a first-class bastard who had abandoned a child he conceived with his dancer, SeeHun, after cheating on his almost-husband without a second thought…

That wasn’t his place to say. It wouldn’t be right. But he also couldn’t just sit back and watch Taehyung slowly sink into the cruel depths of depression. He straightened up slightly in his seat, taking a dramatic sip of his drink, his tone turning less friendly, less timid.

"- Why not ask Mr. Jeon? He should be able to answer you.

- Jungkook? What does he have to do with this?

- That’s what I’d like to know."

Yoongi raised an eyebrow but didn’t push further. He let time pass before eventually parting ways with his new dancer.

As he entered his apartment, punching in the code, he felt lighter… until he nearly jumped out of his skin at the sight of Jungkook’s silhouette in the dark. Like a storm crashing through, Jungkook almost tripped over the couch, shaking his phone wildly.

"Yoongi!

- Jungkook. What can I do for you?

- SeeHun has a child!

- And she abandoned it with someone anonymous and refuses to reveal the father.

- How do you know that?!

- I’m psychic."

It took a moment for the information to fully sink into Jungkook’s mind. He stared at Yoongi with wide, bewildered eyes, which earned a quiet chuckle from the older man, who tried to keep a straight face.

It was dramatic. Not to mention devastating for poor Jungkook, who seemed to be experiencing yet another disaster in his life. Finding out you’d been used and had everything taken from you for the sake of a mere name had to be a hard pill to swallow.

"- I saw your ex today.

- How’s Taehyung? Is he eating well? I haven’t been able to see him even once…

- He looks tired, but he’s okay.

- That’s good… But why were you at Taehyung’s place without me

- For my dancer."

Jungkook nodded slowly before heading toward the dining table. He sat down, resting a hand against his temple, his gaze lost in thought. He seemed to be processing a lot, and Yoongi slid a cold beer toward him, which Jungkook accepted without much resistance.

Yoongi settled across from him, fingers wrapped around his own glass, lost in his own thoughts. A heavy silence stretched between them for long minutes.

"- He has a baby now.

- Thanks, I was aware. I saw him with it.

- No—I mean, Taehyung has your baby.

- Impossible. If I got someone pregnant, I’d know.

- Well, apparently, you didn’t. SeeHun most likely got rid of your baby."

Yoongi’s gaze hardened as he looked at Jungkook’s figure. He didn’t want to judge him, but it was difficult to stay neutral in this situation. Yoongi completely understood Taehyung’s pain. He had been through relationship problems himself. The only woman he had ever truly loved—the one who had stayed despite everything they had been through—had turned out to be unfaithful. Convinced that he would never amount to anything, she had left him for another man.

He remembered how it had felt like his world had ended, how everything had painfully stopped, and how long it had taken to heal and slowly open up again. Now, he was better with himself, but some wounds never fully closed, no matter how much time passed. And he resented Jungkook for being stupid enough to break someone like that. He had to remember how much effort Yoongi had put in to help him climb back up.

"- I didn’t cheat on him.

- Babies don’t fall from the sky, Jungkook.

- But I didn’t do anything! Taehyung is the love of my life—I would never have done that to him!"

He was emotional. His large, sincere eyes locked onto Yoongi’s, pleading for him to believe him. Yoongi sighed. He could never stay mad at him for long. Tears were now freely rolling down Jungkook’s cheeks, despite his efforts to hold them back.

"- Sorry, it’s just… I’ve been thinking….

- I don’t blame you. Not you. But SeeHun went too far this time. How could she…?!"

Yoongi could only sigh, running a hand through his hair. He wasn’t exactly thrilled when Jungkook finally left, but he felt lighter without other people’s problems filling his space.

He loved Jungkook with all his heart, but he also loved his peace and quiet, free from crying kids in his home—especially after the exhausting day he had just endured. His body relaxed into his plush bed, eyes lazily fixated on his messy laptop beside him, where cat videos played on the screen. He watched with admiration how kind people could be toward these small creatures.

Yet, his fingers couldn’t resist unlocking his phone, checking to see if, by chance, Jimin had wanted to talk to him. A little disappointed to find nothing, he felt like a teenager waiting desperately for a message from their crush. It had been a long time since he had felt this way, and it worried him slightly. After all, Jimin was just a fairly ordinary guy, and they hadn’t talked all that much. Yet, Yoongi felt good around him.

It was like rediscovering a long-lost feeling from a distant time. And Yoongi felt lighter.

And deep down, he hoped Jimin felt the same.

[xwonderfuldeath]

o| Misunderstanding : 4 |o.

Warnings : This contain some toxic behaviors depiction.

Please, consider supporting me on Ko-Fi ! ♥

The first autumn rains had settled over the city of Seoul. The trees, slowly turning orange, made Taehyung feel melancholic. After all, he wasn’t used to being alone for so long. It would be a lie to say he didn’t miss Jungkook. Even though he had undeniable proof of his infidelity, the baby in front of him was a perfect copy of Jungkook: his big doe eyes, his small nose, his dark hair… It felt like seeing a baby Jungkook all over again.

And yet, he had often felt the urge to reply to the messages his former lover had sent him. Some were funny, others serious. Most of them begged him to come home. How many times had he almost given in? Returning to the strong arms of his man, before reminding himself that Jungkook probably just wanted his toy back…

No, he wouldn’t go back so easily. Maybe not at all. It was too easy to have a one-night stand with someone and refuse to take responsibility. He still remembered the shock that had washed over him when he saw Seehun standing at his door, a child in her arms, her eyes cold behind oversized sunglasses that covered half of her face. She had scanned his small apartment with that haughty expression of hers.

“— Hmm. Not as luxurious as our place. — What do you want? And how did you find this address? — Are you joking? I’m practically Miss Min now. I can afford whatever I want. And what I wanted was to know where a rat like you was hiding.”

Without another word, she had pushed past him, forcing her way inside. Her heels clacked against the wooden floor while Taehyung stood frozen, torn between confusion and anger. Miss Min? She had lost it. So what? She had gotten pregnant with HIS husband’s child before deciding to run off elsewhere?

But then again, Madam was infamous for her mood swings and countless lovers. Nothing surprising among her usual whims… And yet.

“— Well, there. You’ve seen me. You can leave now. — I never loved you, Taehyung, you know that. But I’m feeling generous today, so I’ll give you a gift.”

She clapped her hands twice before turning to two bulky men Taehyung had never seen before. In their arms, a newborn. A tiny baby, barely a week old, along with a small bag containing barely enough for a change of clothes. Seehun hadn’t even looked at the child, as if he were some repulsive thing. She dropped onto one of the kitchen chairs, rummaging through her purse before tossing a pile of paperwork onto the table, motioning for him to come closer.

“— You always wanted to be a father. Jungkook never shut up about that kind of nonsense. So I’m giving you a golden opportunity: a fresh baby. All the check-ups have been done, no diseases. — I don’t think I understand… — Really? Still as dense as ever. Jungkook doesn’t want this… thing. He refuses to pay for anything or even look at it. So I’m giving it to you. — You’re giving me a baby? — Exactly. But not just any baby—your ex’s baby… and mine. I handled everything: the paperwork, the legal formalities. No need to worry about that, I took care of it for you. — What do you get out of this? — Peace. To be honest, I hate kids. They irritate me, disgust me. I don’t care about them, and I need time for myself. So I’m getting rid of it… at your place.”

The woman was clearly losing patience. Her cruel, condescending gaze lingered on the poor bodyguard struggling to soothe the small baby, who seemed to understand that he wasn’t wanted, that he was nothing but a burden to his own mother.

Taehyung had pitied the poor child, who hadn’t asked for any of this. He had been brought into the world for… nothing. And besides, Kiyeon reminded him of Jungkook. So he wouldn’t complain. Seehun, on the other hand, seemed delighted to get back to her workouts, reclaim her perfect body, and no longer have to worry about the child she had never wanted.

Wanting nothing to do with that crazy woman, Taehyung had simply told her to get out of his life. And she hadn’t needed to be told twice.

Now, Jimin and Taehyung were looking for a much bigger apartment so that Kiyeon could have his own room. It was a bit sad to see him sleeping in his father’s small room, with barely a bed and a few toys. Dark circles had formed under Taehyung’s eyes, exhaustion piling up on top of sadness. He didn’t even know how to rest between work and the baby, who still wasn’t sleeping through the night.

At least he could enjoy these quiet moments, watching Kiyeon sleep, his tiny hands clutching his large finger. His mind wandered as he gazed out the window, head resting on his arm. The café was quiet, no promotions or major announcements. He could stay home and enjoy the weekend. Jimin, meanwhile, had decided to disappear to who-knows-where.

But that peaceful, quiet weekend was suddenly interrupted by the sound of the doorbell echoing through the apartment. Taehyung jumped, as did Kiyeon, whom he hurried to soothe. He trotted to the door, feeling just as surprised as when Seehun had shown up.

Min Yoongi appeared, a cigarette between his lips, which he removed upon seeing the baby.

“— Park Jimin? — He’s out for the day. And you are? — Tch. Any idea when he’ll be back? — No clue.”

Rich people really didn’t care about pleasantries, did they? Yoongi gently pushed past him and stepped into the apartment. His eyes swept over the plain white walls, the cheap couch, and the duck-shaped coffee table Jimin had proudly brought home after winning it in a dance competition.

With casual ease, he flopped onto the couch and let out a deep sigh of boredom, rolling his head back.

“— Got any water? Or a beer? — Water. — Perfect. Bring me some. I think we’ll be waiting a while for Jimin to come back.”

Automatically, Taehyung turned toward the kitchen, texting his best friend with one hand while holding the baby with the other. He quickly returned with a bottle of water and a warm baby bottle, knowing that Kiyeon would soon start crying. He preferred to avoid dealing with an irritated Min Yoongi on top of a screaming baby.

“— The mother lives here too? — Absolutely not. — She bailed? Some people just aren’t cut out for family life. — You could say that.”

Taehyung didn’t like the way those sharp cat-like eyes studied him. He had heard of the rapper—Suga, Jungkook’s best friend. The one who had played a major role in his career.

Kiyeon squirmed, eagerly searching for his bottle. His father handed it to him with a smile, while Yoongi smirked in amusement.

“— Just as much of a glutton as Jungkook. I’m sure this little one will eat anything when he grows up. — That would be nice. No need to overthink his meals. — Just like Jungkook.”

Taehyung didn’t really understand where Yoongi was going with this, yet he quietly sipped his water, staring off into space.

The front door suddenly burst open, revealing a visibly out-of-breath Jimin. Before Taehyung could ask anything, Yoongi straightened up, as if he had known he would return early.

“— It was nice talking to you. I hope we’ll do it more often. Mr. Park, let’s get a coffee. I’ll explain everything.”

Jimin was pulled away under Taehyung’s amused gaze, who tried not to laugh. He wondered why Yoongi had even bothered coming all the way here and hoped this wasn’t the start of bad news.

He really didn’t want word to get out. He didn’t want Jungkook to find out where he lived.

[xwonderfuldeath]

o| Misunderstanding : 3 |o.

Warnings : This contain some toxic behaviors depiction.

Please, consider supporting me on Ko-Fi ! ♥

Five fifty-two, his eyes wide open had failed to close the whole night, despite the overwhelming desire for sleep that had tugged at him all throughout the day before. But still, Seokjin kept turning and tossing in his bed, unable to fall asleep, in fact, he was wide awake, and that was the problem.

He didn’t know how to handle it, he had thought it through and tried to put his feelings aside, but he couldn’t. How could he just ignore the incredible fact that Kim Namjoon, the man who had erased him from his life without even a hint of remorse, had come back with his sugary smile and kind words: “How are you? A coffee, please.” Ugh. He disgusted him with his naivety and those smug little smiles, as if he was superior to him, with his visible fortune.

Kim Namjoon had certainly made a success of his life, becoming a pillar of the K-pop industry, not to mention the second-best rapper in the country, the first being no one other than Min Yoongi, Jimin’s potential employer. This might be one of the reasons he had cut him out and erased him from his life, so that he wouldn’t mess up his perfect, happy little life with his money.

His heart clenched in his chest as he curled up under the blanket. In just twenty minutes, his phone would remind him to get up, and that made him even more depressed. For the first time in his life, Jin didn’t want to get out of bed to deal with the café.

That café, it had originally been Namjoon’s dream. The man had always said he wanted to run a little countryside café in the heart of the city, and in hopes of seeing him return, Seokjin had opened the establishment.

Why now, after so many years? Probably to spy on Jeon Jungkook, to keep an eye on Taehyung without anyone noticing, and that made him even more upset, sick.

Even so, he couldn’t bring himself to do anything for Namjoon.

“—You look a little tired, Mr. Kim, are you alright?”

“—Yes, don’t worry, Elyzabeth. Are the tables ready?”

“—Almost, I left Choi-Mi in charge today, I hope that’s fine.”

“—Of course.”

The young woman smiled at him. Elyzabeth, or rather Lizzy, had arrived a year ago, on a rainy day sometime in the fall. Back then, Seokjin had been looking for a replacement for one of his servers, and she had walked in, bearing the weight of a painful life. Poor thing had a black eye, her cheeks swollen with tears, as thin as a skeleton.

To be honest, he felt sorry for her. The poor girl had probably been through so much, and he wanted to help her. Now she had gained weight, a stable life, after a complicated divorce that had left its mark on her.

She quickly climbed the ranks, working tirelessly to help everyone around her, and had now taken on the role of head waitress. Recently, a student had walked in looking for a part-time job. Choi-Mi had entered the life of the café.

Shy and quiet, she always seemed uncertain. At first, Seokjin thought the little blonde girl with her hair colored in a rainbow that changed colors every month wouldn’t amount to much. Unfortunately, for her, she had two left hands, which often frustrated Seokjin, especially since she’d cost him a lot in broken dishware during the first four months she worked there.

But now, the young woman, still quite clumsy, had found her balance, which often made Seokjin smile as he watched his staff work.

He liked to take a soft but strict approach with his employees. It was a tight-knit family, coming and going with the seasons.

“—Mr. Kim?”

“—Sorry, what were you saying?”

“—Do you want to take the register? Ji-Ho hasn’t arrived yet.”

“—Is he late again? Does he know his position is at risk if this keeps up?”

A tired hand passed through Seokjin’s hair. He was already exhausted, and his nerves were frayed, it wouldn’t take much to make him snap.

Still, Jin took his place behind the register, hoping Ji-Ho wouldn’t take too long to show up. He didn’t have time for this, anyway. He should be cursing Namjoon in secret.

Yet, he remained professional, pleasant—at least, as much as he could—until he saw the face he never wanted to see again in his life. At that moment, he made the decision to bury Ji-Ho alive, once everything was over.

Kim Namjoon was even more handsome than the day before, wearing a much less formal outfit, big round glasses on his nose, and a smile that seemed to fade when he saw Seokjin looking at him. Or maybe it was because of the mental daggers Seokjin was sending him, not at all pleased to have no one to take his place when he came over anyway.

“—Good morning, Mr. Kim, I’ll have a large latte, double vanilla syrup, and three choco pies.”

“—Is that all?”

“—Unless you have something else to recommend?”

“—6500 Won.”

Namjoon lost his smile in front of Seokjin’s coldness, but honestly, what had he expected? That Seokjin would open his arms to him and give him little caresses? Maybe he thought Seokjin would be happy to see him come back into his life.

But he wasn’t. It wasn’t Seokjin’s fault if Namjoon had issues with his behavior now. Seokjin had imagined growing old with him, and Namjoon had simply broken that dream without even feeling sorry. He was never going to make an effort to make him feel better, because, to Seokjin, Namjoon was responsible for all his misery now. If he had never been able to find love, it was because of him. If he had never been able to trust anyone again, it was because of him. All because Mr. Namjoon wanted to have a perfect life without admitting he was gay.

Poor Namjoon turned away, somewhat reluctantly, before going to the table Choi-Mi had directed him to, glancing occasionally at the boss.

Seokjin didn’t know what made him so sad—whether it was seeing his ex again, or the fact that Namjoon was probably not here for him but for his little brother. He had thought he would get an explanation when he saw him walk through the café’s door, only to be disappointed once again. That’s what Kim Namjoon was—a real disappointment in the flesh. And yet, everyone adored him.

He remained bitter for the rest of the day, lost in a strange bubble that gave him a headache, something that made his vision blurry. The migraine settled in his temples, making him nauseous, forcing him to press his burning hands to his forehead, trying to release the tension before his head felt like it would explode.

Around 8 p.m., the outside air was still clear, but soon night would fall, and calm settled around him. Finally.

Seokjin didn’t know who else was still in the café, but he hoped no one. He didn’t want to be there anymore; he longed to return to the walls of his apartment and stay there until the following Monday. His head was heavy, and moving seemed terribly difficult, though he didn’t know why. Maybe he had caught a bad cold from all the fatigue. Or maybe he was dying.

It was a strange feeling, not knowing if he would wake up tomorrow. No, Seokjin wasn’t a hypochondriac, nor did he think death was lurking around every time he was sick.

But now, it was an unfamiliar state for him.

Luckily, the café was empty—no staff, no customers. He flipped the little sign indicating that it was closed before turning the key in the lock three times. The cool air outside reminded him of the end of summer, soon to make way for the first signs of autumn. He’d need to think about a gift for the new member of the family, maybe a cute jacket he’d seen in a store near his apartment. A smile finally blossomed on his lips as he moved slowly toward his apartment, before a hand softly but firmly landed on his shoulder.

“—Seokjin, can we talk?”

“—No. Not now, Namjoon…”

“—Are you okay?”

Yes, no, he didn’t know. No sound passed his lips. His head felt so heavy, it seemed like it was about to roll off his neck when time suddenly stopped. Then, nothing. The void.

When he regained consciousness, it smelled nice around him—something soft, simple, with no real fragrance. Seokjin recognized that scent—it was the familiar neutral soap that Namjoon used. It was soothing. His brain lingered for a long time, not wanting to open his eyes again. He just wanted to stay there, go back to the good old days when everything was fine between them.

But Namjoon had to ruin it all.

“—Are you awake?”

“—Hmm… Where are we?”

“—Where do you want us to be? At my apartment.”

His mocking tone made Seokjin wrinkle his nose, but he said nothing, slowly opening his eyes, the sunlight searing his retinas. It was the kind of apartment he had always imagined for Namjoon—neutral colors, books stacked everywhere. Namjoon was sitting at his desk, piles of papers scattered in front of him, which he had abandoned to look at Seokjin.

He hadn’t put him in a guest room, no. He had placed him in the main bedroom.

Seokjin ran a hand through his hair, the heaviness in his head was gone, replaced by thirst and hunger.

“—Do you want to see something?”

“—Water. I’ll leave after I have some water.”

“—Are you sure you don’t want to rest? The doctor said…”

“—The doctor?!”

“—Of course. You fell into my arms burning with fever. I wasn’t going to leave you outside or let you suffer. I had my personal doctor come. Just some fatigue and hypoglycemia, nothing serious.”

“—Thank you.”

Seokjin could see that Namjoon wanted to say something, but he remained silent. He didn’t let him leave until he’d eaten a proper breakfast and then accompanied him back to his place. It was quiet but pleasant. Seokjin thanked him again before pushing open the door to his little apartment, feeling relieved.

He couldn’t let himself fall into his trap again.

[xwonderfuldeath]

x \ Obsession - Chapter 4 / x

Warnings : Sexual content, alcohol !

Please, consider supporting me on Ko-Fi ! ♥

The noise surrounding him is deafening—a sweet blend of bass, good music, and pleasant moments. Bodies intertwine, voices shout to be heard. It had been a long time since he had gone out for a drink, and he couldn't deny it: it felt good.

Park Jimin, five-foot-seven, elevated by ankle boots with small heels, round cheeks giving him a babyish look, and typically Korean eyes that crinkled with every sip of his cocktail. He had arrived in this eternal furnace not long ago, unsure of where his steps would lead him. After yet another argument with his brother and parents who never took his side, he had left, determined to put an end to the situation once and for all.

Jimin was the eldest of two children. At first, his parents loved him—or at least tried to. They bought him clothes and new shoes when needed. Then his brother arrived. What a joke. No matter what happened, even with evidence in hand, his parents blamed him. A flowerpot broken by his brother? He’d receive the punishment. A lie about a missing cake? Again, his fault. Even now, at twenty-three, with a stable life, he was expected to help his brother financially so he wouldn’t lose his house.

It wasn’t his fault his brother was too dumb to fend for himself. Jimin wasn’t the solution to everything, and of course, this didn’t sit well with his parents. In the end, maybe it was partly his fault too. He had never really tried to put a definitive end to his desperate longing for loving parents.

He finished his drink with a bitter taste on his tongue. He shouldn’t be thinking about all that. After all, he had responded to a very enticing offer: an all-inclusive stay in lovely bungalows for the next two weeks, fully paid except for extras. He had jumped at the chance. Thanks to his dear little brother, he had lost his job and his small apartment. That scoundrel had lied convincingly enough to make his boss believe in an embezzlement scheme, and to repay non-existent damages, Jimin had been forced to sell his apartment. In the end, even here, they managed to ruin a moment for him.

“— Alone? May I join you?”

Jimin jumped, his eyes leaving the void they had been staring at. He gave a faint smile. The man was small, almost as short as he was, with the same typically Korean eyes, but a sly smile that Jimin half-returned. He gestured to the empty bar stool beside him, inviting the man to pull him out of his dark thoughts as the stranger ordered two new drinks. It wasn’t such a bad idea. He was only on his third drink, after all.

“— A little name I can call you? — Hmm... I don’t think so, no.”

Jimin slid against his stool, giving this man his full attention, a soft smile forming on his face. To be honest, he wasn’t unattractive. Far from it. Attractive enough to have an effect on Jimin, who let his eyes roam over pale skin and dyed hair. He didn’t feel like revealing his name. After all, he was only here for two weeks, no more. This stranger didn’t need to know his name. They’d likely never see each other again anyway.

“— Okay. So what should I call you, then? — Chim. Chim is fine. — Perfect, Chim. — And you? Do you have a name to share? — Suga.”

Jimin raised an eyebrow. The name sounded familiar, but he couldn’t recall where he’d heard it. It didn’t bother him for long. Their conversation was pleasant enough to send shivers down Jimin’s spine and make him laugh softly before he finally agreed to follow the stranger to his car. His parents weren’t good parents. They had never taught him not to follow strangers at night, slightly too tipsy to walk on his own.

“— New in town? I’ve never seen you before. — I’m officially on vacation. I’m not staying. — Oh, a tourist, then? — Mm-hmm.”

The purring silence of the car helped him feel more at ease as the "cat" beside him drove. He couldn’t help himself: he had spent the evening comparing the man to a feline. Suga reminded him of a big tomcat that would probably enjoy being petted. His slender fingers pressed against the surprisingly muscular thigh of the man, who swore under his breath, glancing at him briefly to ensure he didn’t hit anyone with his car.

“— What? — I didn’t think I’d bring you into my car for this sort of thing. — Then why?”

Jimin wasn’t surprised when the car swerved a little sharply, taking the exit out of the city and into a gloomy forest. His eyebrows furrowed, but he couldn’t help laughing softly. Locals said it was haunted, so seeing someone willingly go there for such activities was surprising.

“— Aren’t you afraid that malicious spirits might come and watch us? — Let them. I don’t mind being observed.”

Jimin could feel the full weight of Suga’s words pressing down on him. The man’s eyes never left him as he unbuckled his seatbelt in the heavy silence. Jimin struggled to swallow. His small nose wrinkled slightly in amusement as he accepted the unspoken invitation without hesitation. He unfastened his own seatbelt before climbing onto the lap of the man who had captivated him all evening. Jimin felt Suga’s desire, hard and pressing against him. He didn’t wait, moving his hips just to hear the man let out an animalistic growl.

“— Though I can understand. Driving in this kind of situation can’t be very comfortable. — Chim. — Hmm? — You talk too much.”

Without warning, Suga slid his hands under Jimin’s thighs, lifting him out of the car and carrying him to the trunk. Their lips collided, rough and burning, and Jimin found himself laid out against the cold, unpleasant metal. Their clothes quickly became an unbearable nuisance. Jimin had never thought that such a place—barely at the edge of a forest—could excite him this much. Suga, though wild in his movements, was surprisingly delicate in his touches, learning how to caress Jimin’s soft skin without leaving marks.

“— I hope this isn’t your first time. — Why? — I don’t like inexperienced people. It irritates me.”

Jimin rolled his eyes but held back his retort, keeping it tucked away for later. He took back control, letting his mouth explore the man’s body beneath him. Warm, smooth, with a faint taste of vanilla. His teeth sank into the flesh, leaving marks and eliciting sharp moans from Suga. A sly smile spread across Jimin’s lips.

“— And I don’t like grumpy people. That irritates me.”

Suga didn’t have time to reply. Jimin’s mouth engulfed him, drawing a raw, feline-like sound from his throat. One thing was certain: Jimin knew what he was doing. Suga’s hips tried to follow, but Jimin gave him no chance. He dominated the exchange, not even offering Suga the opportunity to voice his thoughts. And when Jimin felt the tension building within Suga, as guttural noises escaped his throat, he abruptly pulled away, leaving Suga panting, frustrated, his eyes full of desire fixed on the naked body before him, silently screaming that he wasn’t a novice.

“— I think we can both agree that was a good time. — Hmm... Not bad at all.”

This time, Jimin had no chance to respond. His face contorted in pleasure as a moan, far from masculine, escaped him. Suga’s fingers had found their place with unnerving precision, making him arch his back and release small sounds he tried in vain to suppress. When Suga’s swollen length replaced his fingers, Jimin gasped for air. It was fiery, passionate. Jimin didn’t care about scratching the pale chest beneath him, suckling on skin that tasted like heaven. And when it was all over, he was almost disappointed.

In the end, Suga dropped him off in front of his bungalow. Even though the man clearly wanted to go for another round, Jimin had been firm. It would take more than a casual hookup to earn the privilege of sharing his bed. And while it had bruised Suga’s ego, he hadn’t insisted.

The door closed behind Jimin. Too tired to turn on the light, he used his phone to guide himself to the bed. His body collapsed onto the soft mattress, and he quickly fell into a deep sleep. The shower could wait—until he had the strength and desire to get up.

[xwonderfuldeath]

x \ Obsession - Chapter 3 / x

Warnings : Small violence !

Please, consider supporting me on Ko-Fi ! ♥

"— Mr. Kim. — Yes, Mr. Jeon? — Come to my office."

Taehyung might have only known Jungkook for a few weeks, but he could easily understand what that tone and gesture implied. With a quick glance around, he checked to see if anyone else had raised their head, but judging by the ongoing buzz of chatter, he had to accept the obvious: Jungkook wanted to speak to him, and only him. Silently, he made his way to the office, still as dark as ever, though this time, no files or sketches were scattered about.

"— How can I help you, Mr. Jeon? — Sit down. We need to talk."

Without further ado, Taehyung took a seat on the chair directly across from the artist, who seemed on the verge of snapping. The pen scratched against the paper, which had clearly lost its original whiteness with time, before Jungkook looked up at him again. He interlocked his fingers, as if searching for something on Taehyung’s face.

"— I had to get rid of my florist recently, and I remember you ran a shop once, albeit a quaint one. — I did, yes. But our contract is solely for modeling, nothing else. — Exactly. Which is why I need you to sign this new contract."

He practically threw the paper he’d been venting his frustration on at Taehyung. Like the first contract, it was handwritten, perfectly crafted with the same lines Taehyung had signed before. But this time, it wasn’t about photo shoots or styling work; it was about managing the flower shop for Jeon Industries. Taehyung’s eyebrows furrowed as he looked at Jungkook, slightly bewildered. The contract was dated the very day he had set foot on the island. Why not have him sign this one from the start? He resumed his initial posture but refrained from signing, under Jungkook’s tense gaze, clearly teetering on the edge of an outburst.

"— I don’t understand this sudden change. You stated in your letters that you don’t reverse your decisions, and now you’re asking me to sign something entirely different? — Yes. A stupid mistake on my part. — Why didn’t you inform me sooner, then?"

Jungkook growled like an animal. He seemed to be losing the last shreds of his patience this morning. The atmosphere grew taut, and Taehyung immediately regretted challenging his new boss. Jungkook’s eyes darkened, and a bitter chuckle escaped his lips. He glared at Taehyung before dragging his chair noisily across the floor, making Taehyung flinch. Convinced he was about to be hit, Taehyung whimpered, raising his hands to shield his face. He knew that reaction too well, that look. Bogum had the same one whenever Taehyung pushed too far, said something displeasing, or contradicted what Bogum wanted to hear. Apparently, Jungkook understood. He stopped before doing anything, clearing his throat instead.

"— Are you signing or not? — I’ll sign. Yes."

Taehyung quickly grabbed the first pen he could find on the desk and signed the contract. He didn’t dare look at Jungkook, who seemed to feel quite foolish, and the latter gestured for him to leave, avoiding another incident.

"— In the city center, there’s a closed flower shop. Ask Mr. Yoongi to show you the place. You start immediately. I’ll personally arrange for Meenha to be taken to our second daycare. — Alright."

He practically ran out of the office, not bothering to close the door behind him, seeking the safety of the outdoors, a less suffocating space. Jungkook’s dark, hateful eyes followed the curious gazes around him before he slammed the door shut, giving no one the chance to ask questions. Taehyung drove aimlessly, unsure where to go. The city center was enormous, and searching for a shop here was like looking for a single rose in a field of wildflowers. He didn’t even know who Min Yoongi was or what he looked like. He’d never met the man or asked about him. After wandering aimlessly for about an hour, he finally noticed a short man with pastel green hair, a cigarette in hand. When their eyes met, Taehyung felt his entire being freeze inexplicably. This had to be him—or so he hoped.

"— Mr. Min? — Finally. I thought you’d never arrive. — Mr. Jeon wasn’t exactly forthcoming with details on how to find you."

No response. With a disdainful huff, Yoongi flicked his cigarette to the ground and gestured for him to follow. The flower shop Jungkook had mentioned was tucked away in a corner of the mall, sandwiched between a luxury clothing store bearing the same name and another store specializing in more intimate items. Taehyung’s brows furrowed again as he avoided looking at the erotic shop, all while Yoongi smirked mockingly.

"— Hobbie’s moving his shop. You won’t have to see that every day; he’s relocating next week. — Oh. Alright."

The flower shop desperately needed a fresh coat of paint, new flooring, and new shelves. It was dusty, as if it hadn’t been opened in years. The few remaining flowers were long past their prime, ready to be uprooted and discarded. Taehyung glanced around, taking in the musty smell that hit his throat, while Yoongi whistled nonchalantly.

"— What a mess. Well, not my problem anymore. Have fun."

The shop keys clattered onto the table, leaving Taehyung dumbfounded by the sudden change in his situation. He was soon left alone, abandoned in a dilapidated shop, silently vowing to get even with Mr. Jeon the next time they met. Taehyung spent hours tidying the shop, cleaning, dusting, and trying to bring some order to the chaos. It was around six or perhaps eleven at night when the shop finally looked somewhat usable, even if only temporarily. The flooring needed replacing, and the walls needed repainting, but he was exhausted and, frankly, lacked the funds for such renovations.

"— More efficient than a cleaning crew. I was planning to hire one, but apparently, that won’t be necessary."

Jungkook’s sly smile made Taehyung shudder, glaring at him in disapproval. What did he mean he was planning to hire a cleaning crew? Taehyung felt his arms drop, utterly appalled by Jungkook’s approach. The latter raised his hands in mock surrender.

"— I told you to go, not to handle it yourself. — What do you need from me? — I’ve brought little Meenha back. I thought you’d appreciate a break. Night’s falling soon. It’s not safe to be out late."

Taehyung sighed. In truth, going home and taking a shower sounded like a good idea. He smiled and walked over to join his boss, who froze upon noticing the necklace around his neck. Under the industrial lights, the pendant seemed to glow softly. Jungkook gripped Taehyung’s arm so tightly that he was certain there would be bruises.

"— That stupid witch can’t stay in her lane, huh? That little brat." With a violent motion, Jungkook ripped off the pendant, startling Taehyung, who pushed him away clumsily, staring at him in shock and, this time, genuine anger.

"— Are you out of your mind?! What is wrong with you?"

Taehyung didn’t give Jungkook a chance to respond. He grabbed his daughter’s carrier and fled once again, trembling with pure terror and bitterness, not daring to look back. He left Jungkook alone in the hallway, who clenched the amethyst so hard that he crushed it into dust, letting it fall to the ground.

"— Run, run, little cat. Soon, you’ll be mine."

[xwonderfuldeath]

x \ Obsession - Chapter 2 / x

Warnings : None for this one !

Please, consider supporting me on Ko-Fi ! ♥

Life went on, and a week had passed, marked by the unprofessional work of Mr. Jeon and the unpleasant impression that he was being made fun of. But Taehyung wasn’t so easily manipulated. Of course, he had figured out his boss's little game. If it amused the latter, so be it; Taehyung would play along, that’s all.

Saturday finally came rather quickly. What he loved about the last two days of the week was that he had the freedom to go wherever he pleased. So, he decided to explore the city. After all, he was going to stay there for several long months, maybe even years. It was best to get familiar with his surroundings.

His neighborhood was peaceful, and he had no trouble getting the stroller out for little Meenha. She had grown a lot in a week; all her clothes had become too small, which meant he would have to find a place to buy new outfits for his little one.

He let himself wander aimlessly, observing the shops and buildings passing before his eyes. A week on this island, and the temperature had never really dropped below thirty-nine degrees, despite the imminent arrival of autumn. This island seemed to have its own ecosystem.

He found the multicolored hollyhock gardens fascinating, remembering having seen similar plants on the edge of the woods before. He was curious to learn more about this local custom, but he didn’t really know whom to ask. After all, with his job, he hadn’t really made any friends to talk to. Of course, there was Jung Hoseok, but he was like a whirlwind: as soon as he arrived, he would disappear into the maze of the establishment.

Eventually, his journey took him to the more traditional and ancient part of the city. The buildings were typical of one or two centuries ago in South Korea. Here, there were no roses, only lanterns scattered along the alleys, surrounded by black cords adorned with various hanging charms.

A shiver ran through him as he looked at the lanterns. Although they were merely decorative objects, he had the strange impression that they were watching him. This feeling made him quicken his pace, almost bumping into a shopkeeper who was decorating her storefront.

“— Oh, excuse me! Are you alright? Are you hurt?” he hurried to ask, checking to see if he had harmed her. She looked at him for a moment before her eyes lit up. “— You’re the newcomer to the island! … What did he say your name was again…?” “— Taehyung. I’m Kim Taehyung.” “— Ah, that’s it! Taehyung! I’m fine, no harm done. And who’s this adorable little princess?”

As she spoke, the shopkeeper bent down in front of little Meenha, waving her hands and feet affectionately at her.

“— Hello there. — Meenha, my daughter. — That’s such a beautiful name for such a lovely princess.”

A brief silence settled before she stood up and invited him inside her shop to enjoy the cool air. Although he hesitated a bit, Taehyung eventually accepted, following her inside. The suffocating heat of the outside was completely cut off by the stone walls, making the atmosphere much more bearable. He was relieved for Meenha, who also seemed to enjoy the building’s coolness.

“— Here, have a cold drink. Do you have water for the little one? Hand me her bottle; I’ll put it in the fridge too. — Thank you.”

He obeyed, glancing around to see what kind of shop she ran. He was surprised to see the same charms hanging in the aisles. Spells inscribed on wooden plaques sat alongside seeds of the famous roses that the locals seemed to adore. Taehyung jumped slightly when the young woman returned, which made her laugh softly. She handed him a bottle of cold water.

“— You’re really not from around here, are you? Do you want to buy some? Honestly, they’re not very useful. I’d recommend chrysanthemums or wreaths of mugwort instead. Maybe a bit less pretty, I’ll admit, but far more effective. — Why would I do that? I mean… Do I have any reason to be worried? — Oh, yes. Believe me. People like you… Anyone would want to devour you like fresh peaches. A real delight. And even if it’s not exactly legal…” “— I’m not sure I really believe in that sort of thing, you know. — As you wish. But I’ll still give you a little gift.”

She turned around, her hair swirling behind her, and grabbed two necklaces that she handed to him. She then looked at Meenha with a tender smile. Taehyung thanked her anyway, inspecting the pendants. The stones, one bluish and the other violet, were set in a floral metal frame designed to resemble a peach blossom accompanied by Japanese lily-of-the-valley leaves.

His curiosity was piqued, but he didn’t ask any questions. He promised himself he would research them on his own. Out of politeness, he put on the necklace before leaving. He nodded to greet a new arrival at the shop: Hoseok himself.

“— What did he want from you? — I don’t know. Does it concern you? — I have the right to know who will be my daughter’s stepfather. — No. The only thing you have the right to know is what time you can pick her up on Saturday for your visitation.”

Hoseok frowned, biting his lower lip, as she retrieved their daughter’s bag. The child immediately ran upstairs without even looking back, under the surprised gaze of the young woman, who was glaring at her ex-partner.

“— I just refused to let her go to Kiyeon’s party. I didn’t hit or harm her. — Why did you refuse her something like that? — She was rude. And anyway, I don’t have to justify myself. It’s my parenting. — As much as mine. You’re so stubborn when you’re not carrying your man.”

She didn’t give him time to respond, shutting the door on him before another argument could break out. Too cheerful to let her mood be ruined, she closed the door behind him, leaving him to rant in the void.

She then went upstairs, where the large apartment was neatly organized, aside from the shoes scattered at the entrance. She let out a small sigh as she placed the bag of belongings in front of the laundry room.

“— Come eat instead of sulking in your room, will you? Daddy’s gone.”

Pouting, the little princess came out of her room, dragging her feet as if her mother might also get angry at her. Big tears were running down her cheeks, which she wiped away with one hand. Her mother picked her up to calm and reassure her.

“— What happened, then? — It’s Do-Hyun! He came to bother me after school. — I told you to report him to Miss Meïshy, didn’t I? — Uh-huh… But he came when she wasn’t there! And he was mean…”

The young woman nodded gently, stroking her daughter’s cheek before kissing her tenderly on the head.

“— Alright, alright. But that doesn’t mean you behaved well either. So, no party for you.”

The sound of pure frustration that escaped her daughter’s lips made her smile. She affectionately ran her hand through the little one’s curls and kissed her on the forehead.

[xwonderfuldeath]

x \ Obsession - Chapter 1 / x

Warnings : None for this one !

Please, consider supporting me on Ko-Fi ! ♥

The heat on the island was stifling, forcing Taehyung to keep his windows open most of the time, hoping to let in a bit of fresh air from outside. Despite the dense forest, which one might think would help generate air currents, they were still rare. Fortunately, it wasn’t all bad, as the heat helped the paint he had applied to the walls dry quickly, giving him the pleasant feeling of finally being at home.

It had taken him some time to settle in and find everything he needed for little Meenha, who, unfortunately, lacked toys. It was almost as if Mr. Jeon had really wanted him to abandon her in the capital.

The little beehive of Jeon Industries was still buzzing with activity when Taehyung swiped his employee card through the reader. His eyes were still wide with wonder at the hustle and bustle. The baby squirmed in his arms as he headed toward the area the kind Choi-Mi had pointed out to him, where employees could leave their children.

This space was entirely different. The colorful walls and the sounds of children playing could already be heard, bringing a small smile to Taehyung’s face. If he could, he would have become a daycare manager. But Bogum had insisted that a flower shop would be more welcoming, suggesting he open one instead of embarrassing himself with a daycare full of kids he probably couldn’t handle.

In hindsight, Bogum was a bit toxic.

“- Hello? Is anyone here?”

The reception desk seemed empty, with no trace of staff, save for two children, roughly the same age, fighting over a toy. The little girl with short, powdery curls refused to share the teddy bear with the poor brunette boy, who looked remarkably like the company’s CEO.

At first, Taehyung said nothing, but when it seemed like crying was imminent and the girl looked ready to hit the boy over a mere toy, he had no choice but to step in before things escalated into a full-on brawl.

“- Hey, no fighting, or I’m taking the bear away! - But Kiyeon started it! He won’t give me back my bear! - Liar! It’s MY bear! - I said stop! Give me the bear. - Who are you, anyway? We’re going to call Madam Meïshy! - Yeah, we’ll tell her some weird guy is talking to us!”

Taehyung sighed. At least they could agree on something. He rolled his eyes at the lack of discipline in the two little tornadoes, which didn’t surprise him much, considering Jungkook. That guy had issues with respect, so it wasn’t entirely shocking that his son might have inherited the same problem.

As for the little girl’s parents, they probably weren’t much better, thought Taehyung, pitying anyone who would have to deal with those kids in the future. Thankfully, he wouldn’t be one of them.

Finally, a pretty red-haired woman with tanned skin arrived, wearing an apron that presumably identified her as a daycare worker. She looked at him with attentive black eyes, bowed politely, and then pulled out a phone. She typed something, and a feminine robotic voice from her AI spoke for her.

“- Hello, you must be Mr. Kim? - Yes. I’m here to drop off Meenha.”

She took a moment to read his lips before nodding gently, then typed again to ask him to hand over the child, which he did.

The little girl seemed unhappy to leave her father’s comforting arms, causing Taehyung to panic slightly and regret his decision. But the kind Meïshy gestured to reassure him.

As soon as the woman turned her back, magic happened. Meenha calmed down as quickly as she had gotten upset, which greatly reassured Taehyung about the woman’s capabilities.

Finally, he headed to the section mentioned in his schedule, the one reserved for male models, as it seemed the genders were kept separate. Presumably, this was to avoid harassment issues or simply because the brands were distinct.

To be honest, Taehyung had never really questioned it. After all, he wasn’t interested in the company. This job was just a way to pay off his debt or find another opportunity to do so. After that, he would leave Jungkook and this company behind for good, never looking back.

The studios were immense, filled with state-of-the-art equipment, and Taehyung felt a little lost. His eyes scanned the surroundings, once again observing the crowd of people bustling about, spinning, shouting orders, and making a lot of noise. Suddenly, a familiar face turned toward him.

Jung Hoseok greeted him with a broad smile. He was speaking with another man Taehyung had never seen before, but their closeness left no doubt about the nature of their relationship. Hoseok tenderly brushed the man’s cheek before placing a kiss on his nose. The stranger merely nodded before disappearing into another room, leaving Hoseok to welcome Taehyung with far less affection—thankfully, thought Taehyung.

“- Right on time. I’ll introduce you to everyone. Since it’s your first day, we’ll need to take your measurements. Jungkook wants to handle it, so go meet him in his office. - Is it really necessary? I’m a standard size. - It’s protocol. I’ll take you there.”

Taehyung nodded, following Hoseok through the maze of this floor. They passed several shooting rooms before entering an office that was far less tidy than the rest of the building.

Sketches of new outfits were scattered across the floor, some crumpled, others illegible under the heavy scribbles. Still, everything seemed carefully arranged in a circular pattern, with the best sketches placed in the center. Jungkook, perched on top of the desk, was looking down at them.

He didn’t even glance up when Taehyung entered, merely motioning for Hoseok to leave with a wave of his hand. Hoseok complied without a sound.

“- You’re late, Mr. Kim. I don’t like tardiness. - I would’ve been on time if your office wasn’t so hard to find. - Excuses.”

Taehyung frowned and crossed his arms over his chest, feeling offended. He said nothing further, instead taking in the room around him. The space was dim, with thick black curtains blocking out most of the light. He had to squint to adjust to the darkness.

But when he turned his attention back to Jungkook, his heart skipped a beat. The man’s dark, gleaming eyes were fixed on him, and Taehyung jumped, almost letting out a decidedly unmanly yelp.

"- Well, I don’t have all day. Undress. - Excuse me? - Take off your clothes. Now. - I don’t know who you think I am, but I’m not that kind of person. - It’s for the measurements. I have specific standards, and you don’t meet any of them, if that’s any consolation. - Oh. Right. Of course.”

Blushing with embarrassment, Taehyung turned away and began to remove his shirt, pants, and shoes. He felt terribly exposed under this cold man’s gaze, a shiver running through him as Jungkook’s sharp eyes examined every inch of his skin.

Without a word, Jungkook approached with a measuring tape. He tugged it into place repeatedly, noting down each number in a red leather notebook, one that appeared to be specifically labeled with Taehyung’s name.

The silence during the process was oppressive, and Taehyung flinched slightly when Jungkook finally broke it.

“- Good. Come back tomorrow, same time, to select some outfits for the magazine. - That’s it? - Were you expecting a candlelit dinner? - No, of course not. - Then make good use of your free day—explore the city, have a drink, meet new people. I don’t need you for anything else right now.”

Taehyung couldn’t believe it. All this, just for a simple set of measurements? He was outraged as he left the office, grumbling internally about such blatant disrespect.

When he picked up little Meenha from the daycare, the clock barely read nine in the morning. His irritation flared even more.

That Jungkook was nothing but a savage. Nothing more.

[xwonderfuldeath]

.o| Bad Temptation : END |o.

Warnings : Violence, injury, graphic depictions, sex

Please, consider supporting me on Ko-Fi ! ♥

“- How are you, Jimin?

- Bad, Mamie Ivanovich. I feel like a thousand stakes are looping through my stomach and heart.

- That's fine. That's good. Very good indeed.”

The sorcerer is taken aback when the old lady sits down opposite him. Her mischievous little eyes seem delighted to hear this, and Jimin bites his lower lip. He feels caught in an abyssal nothingness that suffocates him, while the old lady laughs. She turns to rummage through the shelf behind her, pulling out several small flasks which she stacks in front of her large, already boiling pot, as if expecting something like this to happen.

Jimin watches, lost, as she tosses the various vials into the pot. His little hands flail about, giggling with pleasure at each added ingredient.

“- Do you know, my little Jimin, what makes a sorcerer a real sorcerer?

- A grimoire? The ability to use it? Doing good, too.

- No, I don't know. Otherwise, everyone would become a sorcerer. What makes a good sorcerer is his innate knowledge of magic and what he does with it.”

Jimin frowns, trying to figure out where this mindless conversation is leading them, as the old lady throws the last vial into the pot. Tiny shards of glass fly out, sparkling like snowflakes before the sorcerer's astonished eyes. His grimoire, hitherto inert, seems to react to this sorcery. It jerks open, magically filling its missing pages. Everything happens very quickly. The potion explodes into confetti, and it's already over. The book rests gently against Jimin's legs, under the amused gaze of the old woman, who beckons him to take a look.

Jimin can't believe his eyes. Spells pile up in the grimoire and he can't hold them back. He feels lighter, even if he's still burdened by the guilt of having caused his parents' death. Mamie Ivanovich watches him in silence, then holds out her own grimoire, worn by life and years.

“- Soon, my dear Elyzabeth will have mine. I'm not eternal, you know? Neither was your mother. Faced with Heisukei, she gave everything so that you could recover her powers and your own. This cursed being didn't steal your mother's powers. He simply copied them, then erased them from your memory. That's what distinguishes the two of you. Go, trust yourself and accept this gift. For now, these are just words, but soon you'll see the path become clearer and the way open to you.”

With these enigmatic words, Jimin leaves the old lady's house to return to Yoongi's apartment. Yoongi seems tense, still preoccupied with running his company under the yoke of Damarro, an odious man who doesn't deserve this power. Jimin places a hand on Yoongi's shoulder, and Yoongi returns a tender glance, their lips softly meeting. Outside, the storm has given way to a shy sun, summer slowly returning to warm the air.

“- I know how to put an end to this charade.”

Yoongi doesn't ask for details and follows Jimin. He beckons the others to join them in the throne room. Jimin gently takes his lifelong friend's hand and places him on one of the last vacant thrones, immaculately dressed in white, before curious onlookers. The sorcerer then opens his grimoire, and hitherto forgotten spells dance in his mind, telling him what to do and what to say. The hitherto white book turns yellow, its pages take on a violet hue, then in a flash of tangerine-scented light, an explosion occurs. When everything calms down, Jimin looks exhausted, but less so than Taehyung, who is breathing heavily. His eyes have become a strange mixture of pure white and black outlines.

“- Taehyung, are you all right? Jimin, what the hell have you done?!

- I've restored him to his original form. And his powers! He was never human.”

Jungkook and the others seem bewildered by this revelation. Jimin, frustrated, launches into an explanation, like Elyzabeth and Yoongi before him. Heisukei had taken over the angels' powers, putting the others into a deep sleep and depriving them of their gifts. This altered their memories, leading to a rise in racism between the different mystical races. Heisukei had masterfully manipulated this weakness, and Jimin felt guilty. Only he has the formula to restore the angels' powers and reveal Heisukei's crimes to the world.

Taehyung quickly recovers from the transformation, and with a resolute expression, he pounds the table, melting Jungkook with his little scowl.

“- Let's put an end to this charade and reveal Heisukei's crimes.

- Now that he's deprived of all power, thanks to Jimin recovering his grimoire, he won't be a smartass for much longer.”

In truth, they don't even have to look hard to find Heisukei. The arrogant man he once was has disappeared. He's now a fallen old man, screaming to be let go as he's dragged onto the stage. The townspeople, realizing the extent of the deception, are horrified. Heisukei is still struggling when the rope is wrapped around his neck, putting an end to all the absurd laws he had imposed.

-x-

Two years have passed since the last mayor took power in a flash. The inhabitants had to adapt to the changes that followed. Everyone has come to accept, albeit sometimes with difficulty, that humans never existed, and that angels have taken their place. Taehyung has expanded his business to match that of the Jeon company, and the Underworld has regained its rightful place. At this very moment, the new mayor is speaking in the office of the head of the local press, Mr. Kim.

“- So, Mr. Jeon, aren't you feeling too much pressure in your new role as mayor? Your predecessor's actions have left some… indelible memories.

- I wouldn't say I'm not nervous, Mr. Kim. But… I feel ready to help our community, as it should be. - You do? And what are City Hall's plans?

- To create new places for Mr. Damarro's orphans. And offer more opportunities to the less fortunate, like zombies.”

Like two magnets, the two Jeons move closer together, observing each other, and finally, the tablet slips away, abandoned on the sofa, as they pick up where they left off earlier in the day. Life resumes its course, in the end not so different from what it was before.