⚠️Triggering/Sexual/Gore Scenes

June 22, 2019
Saturday
7:00 am

Jungkook fixed his chocolate unanimated eyes upon the marble island containing freshly produces delivered daily to the mansion, dithering which meals he should concoct or ingest. After unintentionally slumbering in his room for a day straight as the poison he'd consumed to gain (Y/N)'s precious attention, he woke up starving— stomach grumbling so loud you could hear it from the other side of the thick, soundproof doors.

Straightening his hunched back, his hands drifted around the pantry in search of knives, pans, and other necessary materials. As he turned the heat of the electric stove, Jungkook worked fluidly with cutting the ingredients, then mixing them to the multiple pans, actions automatic from the countless hours he'd practiced over the years. Soon, his chestnut bangs pasted to his forehead, the cause either from the steam or sweat.

"Master Jungkook," Jaemin called, statue standing behind his superior, "Master Seokjin is asking for your presence in his office regarding your health."

"Inform him I'm busy."

"Now, Master Seokjin said. He doesn't have time to loose. He's currently documenting his previous patient's unexpected death that occurred yesterday."

With that, Jungkook turned hisself around, cocked an eyebrow, and speculated Jaemin's revelation concerning his older companion's plight. The words "patient", "death", and "Seokjin" are never used in a single sentence. Jungkook scrutinized the butler's facial expression— searching for any sign of deception, but once he affirmed that everything was true, his lips twitched downwards to form a desolating frown.

Despite quarreling with Seokjin many times during his stay here at this mansion, Jungkook understood that Seokjin isn't able to handle a death of a patient as it dragooned the doctor into an endless pit of self destruction and hatred. It reminded Seokjin of his significant failure he buried deep within his skull that happened years ago.

"A patient's death? S-Seokjin hyung's patients doesn't die without a warning unless he makes it clear that they will die."

"I'm afraid that wasn't the case, master."

"I see..." Jungkook trails as he hoisted a spoon resting in cabinet, scooping a piece of his delectable work and devoured it in a single bite. Per usual, the wonderful sensation of flavor couldn't be perceived by the buds of his tongues so instead he scooped another piece and turned to Jaemin. "Tell me if this tastes good. I'm serving it Seokjin so you better not lie."

Jaemin hesitantly accepted his superior's offer and gave a satisfying hum; seeing the approval the butler's face was enough of a feedback for Jungkook. He precisely laid the meal in an eye-catching presentation— perfect for a three star Michelin restaurant.

.
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Seokjin sat tense on his chair, elbow resting against his mahogany desk, and fingers tightly intertwined together. "H-How could have Lucas died? Under my watch? I'v-I've done so many checkups, lost countless hours of sleep, and everything— everything that I've could to wake him up." Seokjin buried his face to his palms. "No— no not again! Not again... god not again!! H-How could I loose another human being's life a-again?!"

He banged his fists, kicked his chair back hard against the wall, and coiled his fingers underneath the desk before flipping it upside down— sending the contents that laid on-top to scatter everywhere.

Seokjin could still hear it.

The ringing of gunshots that pierced his ears— the one that cracked into the air and echoed around the lobby room. The gunshots brought back the agony his father experienced; it was as if Seokjin could still see the bullet in Mr. Kim's guts, as if his blood was still draining over his shirt, running warm through the coarse hairs of his legs.

He remembered that it was his first day at work, seeing his father being rushed in the emergency room with seven bullet holes piercing different parts of his body. He remembered his stomach lurching, eyes gaping, body unable to move, as Mr. Kim's blood gushes from his wounds. Then Seokjin came back to life and began tending Mr. Kim messily— mind darting in and out of his consciousness.

"No," Seokjin whispered, feeling the blood soak through his clothing— he wiped his wet cheeks, staining it with his father's blood. "Don't leave me! Dad. No, don't leave me. Please!" He kept crying as he yelled at the nurses— anyone— anyone but him to handle this. "Dad— please! Y-You said—said you wanted to see your grandchildren right? That you'll be there when I build my o-own hospital?"

There is no amount of horror that could've prepared Seokjin for seeing the life ebb from his own father, the hopelessness, and the tearing his soul. As other doctors saw his struggle, they took over and gave Seokjin a reassuring smile.

His bloody hand clung over his mouth, the other rigidly clutching his stained coat. Seokjin shut his eyelids, unable to witness the horrible scene.

"Seokjin..." he heard his father say weakly. "Live proudly. Don't let anyone make you feel inferior, okay? You're my eldest son and I'll never be able to forget the joy you've brought to me when you came to this world... li-live... proud..."

The doctors around his father stepped back, heads hanging low. With heavy steps, Seokjin approached the bed but collapsed to his knees as soon as he touched the cold, lifeless hand of his father's. His whole face was red as he screamed at the very top of his lungs, heaving sobs so loud that the emergency room fell into silence.

The unfortunate events kept on stacking one after the other when his mother came to the picture. All Seokjin could see was red. Seokjin's once sunny childhood filled with his mother turned jagged, tarred— it became disfigured into something grotesque.

Their mother, Mrs. Kim, did always state Taehyung was a replica of their father. Handsome, charismatic, you name it. The moment Mr. Kim died, Mrs. Kim now a widowed woman had gone insane over the loss of her husband that she saw illusions of him— in particular, illusions towards Taehyung.

She drugged his own son, Taehyung, into having sex.

It was the last day of the funeral, Namjoon and Seokjin had just came home to their mother, naked, on top of their half dressed stupefied brother.

Abomination scorched in the two older brother's hearts so deep that it was shamelessly ingrained on every part of their body. After everything, this is what Mrs. Kim would do? Especially to her own blood? Hate. Like a volcano, pressure created from scalding, gurgling magma, generated enough heat to  make mud boil. Hate expands, like anything that gains heat. It grows, as it dilates, it explodes. And just like a volcanic eruption, hate kills.

But the brothers couldn't murder their own flesh and blood. So, they assigned someone to do the formidable deed.

The next day, their mother's cadaver laid lifeless on the floor— tongue chopped, esophagus and arteries extracted and thrown all over the room. And the smell... that smell revolting smell could only come from a recently slaughtered animal, but in this case, the animal is a human— corpse still warm, blood thickening but not yet dried. "You said you wanted her to suffer so I made her suffer," Seokjin remembered Jimin chuckling as he sharpened his knife whilst sitting on top of their mother, "bitch couldn't stop screaming so the first thing I took out was her tongue."

Park Jimin.

In a gestured aversion, Seokjin wrinkled his nose and withdrew himself from thrashing his office into further damage. He knew that Lucas was killed; he didn't die from natural causes and Seokjin, being the rational man he is, suspected Jimin to be the killer. Though, he didn't have enough evidence other than one time he caught the vermilion headed male entering Lucas's room late at night.

"Hyung..." Jungkook gaped at Seokjin, hands trembling. He clutched the platter of meal, afraid that he might drop it because of how much he's shaking. "Sh-Should I come back later—"

"I saw your test results of why you got sick," the doctor said in a straightforward manner, "poison. You were poisoned."

"Hyung I—"

"You and I are going to have a long ass talk."

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"Our talk didn't last long didn't it?" Taehyung chuckled as his warm hands snaked around (Y/N)'s throat, giving a little pressure. "The one back at the garden..."

The electric haired male leans down, giving sweet butterfly kisses on her. "Where our little session didn't finish because Namjoon had to disrupt it," he said in-between, kisses becoming more needy and wet. (Y/N) sucks in a gasp of breath as Taehyung pushed her gently on her bed, pinning her arms above her head.

Their eyes locked. His heart pumped again and again, head spinning, and lungs bursting; the control that kept himself away from (Y/N) is long gone. Meanwhile, (Y/N) had no more care nor emotions— she felt empty yet the adrenaline of committing a sin by joining her body with Taehyung drove her on. Maybe just this once... she can feel something... in her world of blue and grey.

"I love you. I love you so much..." he muttered underneath his breath as he brushed his lips through the sensitive skin of her skin. "And I'll make sure you feel the same."

Taehyung removed his clothing and so as (Y/N)'s swiftly, taking a moment to absorb her figure before delving to her lips. He passed his middle and index finger down her stomach and traveled down to her heat where he felt her juices. "Wet already darling?" Taehyung taunted as he brought his moistened fingers to his tongue and licked it clean. "So wet and dripping for me." Without a warning, he shoved those same fingers back into (Y/N), causing her to yelp and arch her back.

He wasted no time to connect their lips together as she moaned, letting him feel the vibrations of her sinful whimpers as he pumped his fingers in and out. "T-Taehyung," she whined— feeling the knots formulating, waiting for the right time to burst. "I'm-I'm gonna cum. Oh god ple-plea—"

(Y/N) nearly broke into a sob as the male retracted his fingers, marveling at the string stretching out and connected back to her heat. "You're going to come without me, darling? How inconsiderate of you~" he mused. Deep and heavy breaths escaped (Y/N) as she watched Taehyung position himself. Once his lengthy shaft entered, (Y/N) threw her head backwards and gripped the linen underneath her. (Y/N)'s immediate instinct was to heave back in an attempt to adjust herself, but Taehyung gripped her hips and tugged her sharply back against him.

"Fuckfuckfuck," (Y/N) chanted as he began moving. "Oh my god you-you're so fucking bi-" She moaned louder, unable to hold herself back anymore. Taehyung placed both her legs on his shoulders, leaned down, and sucked her breasts.

"You feel so good," he growled, pushing himself deeper into her. "So fucking good darling."

(Y/N)'s oversensitivity from his firm, plowing thrusts coupled with his previous edging, had her crying out as she came around his cock. But he wasn't finished. Chasing his own height, Taehyung moved faster, sharper— and so good that (Y/N) embarrassingly came again. He felt himself twitch and immediately, out of natural instincts, pulled out. As he let out a satisfied moan, Taehyung felt (Y/N)'s mouth suck the skin below his collarbone, leaving love marks all over his chest.

She got what she wanted. She felt something.

Taehyung didn't own (Y/N).

(Y/N) owned him.

And he'll be the gateway to get out of this house once in for all, wether he fucking likes it or not.

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"Hoseok hyung," Jimin stares at his older acquaintance leaning against the wall. "What are you doing standing right next to Taehyung's room?"

"Nothing."

Hoseok crosses his arms as he wore his head low, his eyes intensely staring at the ground. Hoseok didn't look too happy. He look tensed, mad even, a facial expression that Jimin has never seen before. 'What could it be? Why is Hoseok acting like this?' Jimin looked at Taehyung's door and decided answer those questions himself.

"Jimin don't. Leave Taehyung and (Y/N)." Hoseok gritted through his teeth as he held Jimin off with his hands.

"Them?" Jimin angrily snickered.

"JIMIN DON'T—"