Bullet's of Devotion
The Bullet that loved me
The warehouse was silent, lit only by the dim flicker of a dying overhead bulb. Blood still dripped from the knife Jungkook held in his hand not his, never his. He stood in the center of the chaos, body smeared with violence, breath steady, heart... not so much.
He had finished the mission.
Another name crossed off the King’s list. Another monster dead. Another night paid in blood.
He wiped the blade against his sleeve and turned to leave, the echo of his boots the only sound in the dead space.
A familiar click sliced through the silence.
He turned slowly.
And there he stood.
The mafia king. His king.
Dressed in black. Emotionless. Holding a gun.
Pointed right at him.
Jungkook’s world shifted beneath him. His spine straightened. His fingers twitched. His heart cracked.
He tried to speak, but his throat clenched shut. So many words and none.
The man he loved… was about to kill him.
Taehyung’s eyes were blank. Not cold. Not angry. Just... gone. A void where once there had been stolen glances, whispered lies, twisted warmth under moonlight sheets.
Jungkook managed, barely a whisper.
Taehyung's voice was colder than the metal in his hand.
Kim Taehyung
This is what you deserve.
Jungkook’s breath caught in his throat.
The bullet landed dead center, not just in his chest, but in the part of him that had dared to believe in love. That fragile part he’d let Taehyung touch.
He stumbled back, eyes wide, mouth open but no sound. Blood spread across his shirt like ink on paper, red blooming with all the words he would never get to say.
He sank into a nearby chair, fingers gripping the edge as his knees buckled. And all he could think about was how stupid love was.
Taehyung walked forward, face unreadable, rage coiled beneath the skin.
Kim Taehyung
You thought a mere gangster could crawl into my bed and become something more?
Kim Taehyung
You thought you could be my queen?
Jungkook’s lips twitched, blood seeping from the corner of his mouth.
Every look? Every kiss? Every promise?
He felt the King press the barrel to his chest again, shoving the bullet deeper into flesh and bone.
Pain surged, white-hot, electric.
But Jungkook... smiled.
A quiet, broken sound, full of spite and sorrow and something close to peace.
Jeon Jungkook
Pull the trigger,
Jeon Jungkook
Let it be a reminder. Of this day. Of me.
Taehyung’s eyes flickered just for a second. Regret? Doubt? Or fury?
Two more bullets tore into Jungkook’s chest.
Jungkook’s body slid further down in the chair, blood painting the floor in cruel shades of love.
His last breath wasn’t a scream.
It was a whisper
Jeon Jungkook
…remember me.
And just like that, the light in his eyes vanished.
And Jeon Jungkook, the man, the killer, the lover, died.
Author
I'm really thrilled to announce this new story of mine.
Author
Please do let me know your comments on how the story is and if you are excited.
Author
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The Silence You Left Behind
The chair remained stained, still.
Blood crusted on the floor like dried paint. The warehouse air reeked of metal, memory, and a silence too thick to breathe.
Taehyung hadn’t spoken in two days.
His men moved like ghosts around him, too afraid to ask what had happened. He ruled with an iron gaze, one that had grown colder since that night.
But they knew.
The King killed his lover.
Taehyung sat behind his desk, untouched glass of whiskey in front of him. His fingers played with Jungkook’s ring — the one he used to wear on his pinky like a silent oath.
He twirled it between his fingers like it meant nothing.
But his eyes… told another story.
Park Seojoon
You don’t look victorious.
Seojoon said from across the room.
Kim Taehyung
Victory is overrated.
Seojun raised an eyebrow.
Park Seojoon
You’ve been off. Ever since—
Kim Taehyung
Finish that sentence, and I’ll feed you your own tongue
Taehyung muttered, voice like frost.
Taehyung finally picked up the whiskey and took a long, bitter sip. The burn didn’t distract him. Nothing did.
Because every time he closed his eyes, he saw bloodied lips curled into a smile.
He heard laughter, broken and mocking. He heard,
Jeon Jungkook
Pull the trigger.
And then he heard nothing.
The Night of the Betrayal (Flashback)
Taehyung stood in the shadows, watching Jungkook sleep. His chest rose and fell gently, his tattooed fingers curled near his mouth.
He looked peaceful. Soft. Almost… innocent.
Taehyung had reached out that night, fingertips brushing across Jungkook’s cheek.
He didn’t know what it meant.
Didn’t want to know.
But his heart had clenched like it knew what would come.
Kim Taehyung
Don’t fall for him
Kim Taehyung
This isn’t love. It’s strategy.
So why the hell did his hand tremble on the trigger??
Present – Taehyung’s Bedroom
He hadn’t slept since that night.
Every time he lay down, he felt the empty space Jungkook used to fill. The warmth was gone. The scent was gone. But the presence? Still there. Lurking.
He opened the drawer beside the bed. Inside, a bullet.
Stained with dried blood. Still warm in memory.
He picked it up, stared at it like it might answer the questions clawing at him.
No answer. Just the soft throb of regret tightening in his chest.
Midnight. He returned to the scene.
The room hadn’t changed. No one had dared touch it.
He walked to the chair where Jungkook had died. Stared at the floor. The stain was darker now. Older. But it still bled red in his mind.
He sat in the same chair. Leaned back. Lit a cigarette.
Kim Taehyung
🚬 You should’ve begged.
Then whispered voice lower, cracking at the edge
Kim Taehyung
...Or maybe I should’ve stayed.
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Ashes Between Us
The world had grown quieter since Jungkook's last breath.
No bullets sang. No footsteps echoed. Even the city, which once trembled beneath Taehyung's name, seemed to hold its breath—as if mourning with him. But it wasn't grief that shadowed his expression now.
It was silence.
And silence was the cruelest punishment of all.
Taehyung stood alone in the crimson-lit corridor of his penthouse. Jungkook’s blood had been scrubbed from the floor days ago, but Taehyung still saw it—dark, thick, accusing. Every inch of that space screamed you killed him.
A glass of whiskey dangled loosely from his fingers, untouched. He hadn’t slept. Hadn’t spoken. Not since the shot. Not since Jungkook’s body hit the marble floor with a sound that played on loop in his skull.
Jeon Jungkook
Don’t make me choose.
Jungkook's last words. Half a whisper. Half a plea. Taehyung had chosen anyway.
And now there was no one left to forgive him.
FLASHBACK – 6 MONTHS EARLIER
Rain. Heavy. Unrelenting.
Jungkook had been leaning against Taehyung’s car, wet hair plastered to his face, smirking like the devil had taught him how to love.
Jeon Jungkook
You're late, Tae..
He said, flicking his lighter open with practiced ease.
Jeon Jungkook
And you know how much I hate waiting.
Taehyung had smiled then—truly smiled. The kind he only wore for Jungkook.
Kim Taehyung
You Love it. Gives you time to think about how you’ll punish me.
Jungkook took a drag, the glow from his cigarette flickering between them.
Jeon Jungkook
You’re lucky I love you more than I hate your power plays.
And Taehyung, cocky and invincible, had leaned in, brushing a kiss against his lips.
Kim Taehyung
You won’t always.
Taehyung's grip tightened on the glass until it shattered in his hand, shards cutting into his skin like Jungkook’s absence. Blood welled up. He didn't flinch.
A knock echoed from the hall.
He didn’t move. Not until a familiar voice murmured softly behind him.
Park Jimin
You shouldn’t have killed him.
His second-in-command. His oldest friend. And the only one with enough fire left to confront him.
Kim Taehyung
Don’t speak like you understand!
Taehyung said, voice low, graveled with exhaustion and venom.
Park Jimin
I don't have to understand
Park Jimin
I saw him. I saw what he was willing to give up for you. And you chose your kingdom over him.
Kim Taehyung
He was going to betray me--
The room froze. That word—love—sounded like a gunshot now. Louder than the one Taehyung had fired.
Kim Taehyung
I can’t undo it.
Jimin stepped forward, eyes burning.
Park Jimin
Then at least don’t pretend you’re the victim.
Taehyung didn’t reply. Because he wasn’t.
𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐫𝐨𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞, 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐥𝐲.
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