#yandere detective x murder reader

[idanceuntilidie]

Can you do Yan detective x murder reader

(If you want a name which is optional I got a few, Jason,Kyle,Ashton <- [most recommend in my opinion],Frank)

I hope it was okay! Sorry for not posting anything for so long- Had small problems with my mental health and school TW; mentions of death, murders, blood, yandere behaviour, kidnapping, stalking

reader is gn

Yan Detective x Murderer reader Requests open

The messenger strikes again! Whole group of highschool friends were found dead.... click to find out more!

Ashton bit his thumb as he read another article that night. His tired eyes scanned the painfully flashy site. His co-worker sent him a few of the articles along with this one. For anything that could help him catch the murderer.

Hands shaking and lips pressed into a thin line.

So many people have died recently.

He closed his eyes before getting up and walking to the balcony to smoke. The best stress reliever he had right now. The night was cold. The beautiful once view from his tenement house now covered with ruthless modern architecture. It looked fucking ugly. He took a deep breath in, the smoke burned his throat slightly. It felt nice, he exhaled watching as the gray smoke slowly dissolved in the air.  The case he decided to take seemed simple. It started with one person. Judy Millers. Very pretty young adult, she came from a wealthy family. Ashton actually knew her, back in the day they went to high school. 

A queen bee. He was lucky enough not to get crushed by her. People loved her despite her being an absolute asshole. Judy looked like she was dragged out of some highschool drama. Wealthy, pretty and known for being a bitch.

Her father found her dead in her bathroom. Ashton remembers that night so clearly, when he walked into the bathroom the stench of blood and death overwhelmed his senses. Eyes watering. 

Judy was in more than a bad shape, he could barely recognize her. Face slashed,he could see parts of the bone. She was naked, and the girl was gutted like a pig. Homicide. His eyes darted to the wall behind her head.

“It’s not so funny now is it?” That’s how the murderer got their name, messenger, it sounded slightly stupid but it was a name nonetheless. After Judy, the messenger killed more and more people. Oddly enough they were all from his old high school.

He swore to the father that he will solve the case, but months passed and he still hasn't caught the killer.

Suddenly he heard the door open. Someone walked into his apartment, they were slowly approaching him. He didn’t move, but a smile appeared on his lips. Wide, unnatural he waited as the person behind him got closer. Slowly the person wrapped their hands around his waist. The stench of blood hit his nose in an instant.

They whine. He chuckled as he threw away the cigarette. “Someone got to them before me, can you believe it?” Their voice was rough, but oh so beautiful. It made Ashtons heart burn.

“Oh, oh my love I’m so sorry.” He turned around to hug them back, kissing their head. It was messy, the blood started to already dry out.

“You should take a bath y/n, the blood will be hard to get out, huh?” They nodded, smiling at him before dragging their body to the bathroom. He watched them disappear behind the doorway. He must admit, you look hot in bloody red.

Truth to be told, he found the killer or well the killer found him. After a few of the murders, he decided the question the people who went to the same highschool and were still alive. 

You were the last person on the list, and man when he saw you again after all these years the feelings hit him back. You looked like a wreck, dark circles under your eyes and he swore you had the smell of death on you. Man, even after all these years you were so so lovely. He had fallen for you again.

From then on he started to watch you, even getting to your house. It was full of evidence, and plans to kill everyone who bullied you over the years. He saw the photo of judy with huge X and knife plunged into the middle of her face. He admits he might have got off to the smell of blood on your clothes.

You were the messenger, and he was so sure but he didn’t give you away. Hell, he planned to steal you away actually.

He might have killed a few people along the way, mostly co workers. 

Some got too close, some asked too many questions. He couldn’t share you. He couldn’t share his case. You were his, you were his to understand. To solve. To catch.

He watched you kill some of the people on your list, dreamily sighing as he watched you laugh maniacally as you did. You almost died once, not expecting the victims friend coming back early you didn’t notice them slowly creeping on you with a knife. You were oh so lucky he was near. He saved the day, successfully killing that fucker only to find you were nowhere to be seen. He felt so disappointed. He didn’t even get a chance to even talk to you. Then he found a small gift. A single finger and bloody message.

Every week he got a small body part, along with some threatening messages, but in Ashtons mind, those very love letters. He cherished them.

Then you got into his house, full of rage, bloody, ready to kill him. He didn’t fight you, you looked so beautiful. His heart rammed in his chest as you were ready to stab him. His hands grabbed your face and he kissed you. You bit his tongue and blood filled his mouth. It was so romantic. Let’s say you didn’t leave the house for a good year after that. He kept you in his bedroom for a whole year, finally he had you.

You suffered a whole year, in his grip, answered his questions with a wide smile, describing the murders he already witnessed. Music to his ears. He made his love known, he killed the rest of your victims and brought you their hearts. He watched as you ripped them apart.

After that one year, you fell for him too, and that’s how both of you got to this point, and he knew, you won’t leave him.

[dr-3-am-stuff]

so I got this great idea hear me out.

Heizou x yandere reader

What if a yandere falls for a detective? Will this relationship work out or will it be a total disaster?

Heizou got more cases then normal. All of them had to do with murder, what left him quite shocked.

“There’s no way that there are so many kills in only 2 weeks!?” The young detective gasped as he scanned the paper that had been giving to him by a deliverer. Sango came popping up from behind him. “What? Doesn’t this fall under your detective skills?” She asked with a cocky tone “nope! That makes it even better! I can already imagine the fun I’m going to have when searching for clues and seeing the murder asking them why and how” The red haired male smiled. “What a weirdo” the brown haired girl walked back from where she came from annoyed by the words of the boy.

“Aah! thinking about how this case will end already makes me excited! Let’s just go through the fileees~” the male said as he walked into his office, opening the door he could already see the newly put files on his desk.

He picked up the papers that where put on his table scanning them.

Beach case

Date: Wednesday, January 15, 2023

Location: Found dead on the beach south-west from the city

Victim information

Name: Himiko izuka

Age: 21

Gender: female

Cause of death: murder

Culprit: unknown

“Interesting…Wait isn’t that the girl who gave me a valentines card? She died a day after Valentine’s Day.” Was she killed out of jealousy?

Sooooo thought on this? I think it’s an awesome idea! But should I make him fall in love or is this gonna be a non existing relationship between a yandere and a detective?

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Android x Reader (I)

It is the future and you have been tasked to solve a mysterious murder that could jeopardize political ties. Your assigned partner is the newest android model meant to assimilate human customs. You must keep his identity a secret and teach him the ways of earthlings, although his curiosity seems to be reaching inappropriate extents.

Yes, this is based on Asimov’s “Caves of Steel” because Daneel Olivaw was my first ever robot crush. I also wanted a protagonist that embraces technology. :)

Content: female reader, AI yandere, 50's futurism

You follow after the little assistant robot, a rudimentary machine invested with basic dialogue and spatial navigation. It had caused quite the ruckus when first introduced. One intern - well liked despite being somewhat clumsy at his job - was sadly let go as a result. Not even the Police is safe from the threat of AI, is what they chanted outside the premises.

"The Commissioner has summoned you, (Y/N)." 

That's how it greeted you earlier, clacking its appendage against the open door in an attempt to simulate a knock. 

"Do you know why my presence is needed?" You inquire and wait for the miniature AI to scan the audio message. 

"I am not allowed to mention anything right now." It finally responds after agonizing seconds.

 It's an alright performance. You might've been more impressed by it, had you not witnessed first hand the Spacer technology that could put any modern invention here on Earth to shame. Sadly the people down here are very much against artificial intelligence. There have been multiple protests recently, like the one in front of your building, condemning the latest government suggestion regarding automation. People fear for their jobs and safety and you don't necessarily blame them for having self preservation. On the other hand, you've always been a supporter of progress. As a child you devoured any science fiction book you could get your hands on, and now, as a high ranked police detective you still manage to sneak away and scan over articles and news involving the race for a most efficient computer.

You close the door behind you and the Commissioner puts his fat cigarette out, twisting the remains into the ashtray with monotonous movements as if searching for the right words.

 "There's been a murder." Is all he settles on saying, throwing a heavy folder in your direction. A hologram or tablet might've been easier to catch, but the man, like many of his coworkers, shares a deep nostalgia for the old days. 

 You flip through the pages and eventually furrow your eyebrows. 

"This would be a disaster if it made it to the news." You mumble and look up at the older man. "Shouldn't this go to someone more experienced?" 

He twiddles with his grey mustache and glances out the fake window. 

"It's a sensitive case. The Spacers are sending their own agent to collaborate with us. What stands out to you?" 

You narrow your eyes and focus on the personnel sheet. What's there to cause such controversy? Right before giving up, departing from the page, you finally notice it: next to the Spacer officer's name, printed clearly in black ink, is a little "R." which is a commonly used abbreviation to indicate something is a robot. The chief must've noticed your startled reaction and continues, satisfied: 

"You understand, yes? They're sending an android. Supposedly it replicates a human perfectly in terms of appearance, but it does not possess enough observational data. Their request is that whoever partners up with him will also house him and let him follow along for the entirety of the mission. You're the only one here openly supporting those tin boxes. I can't possibly ask one of your higher ups, men with wives and children, to...you know...bring that thing in their house."

You're still not sure whether to be offended by the fact that your comfort seems to be of less priority compared to other officers. Regardless of the semantics, you're presently standing at the border between Earth and the Spacer colony, awaiting your case partner. A man emerges from behind a security gate. He's tall, with handsome features and an elegant walk. He approaches you and you reach for a handshake. 

"Is the android with you?" You ask, a little confused. 

"Is this your first time seeing a Spacer model?" He responds, relaxed. "I am the agent in your care. There is no one else." 

You take a moment to process the information, similar to the primitive machine back at your office. Could it be? You've always known that Spacer technology is years ahead, but this surpasses your wildest dreams. There is not a single detail hinting at his mechanical fundament. The movement is fluid, the speech is natural, the design is impenetrable. He lifts the warm hand he'd used for the handshake and gently presses a finger against your chin in an upwards motion. You find yourself involuntarily blushing. 

"Your mouth was open. I assumed you'd want it discreetly corrected." He states, factually, with a faint smile on his lips. Is he amused? Is such a feeling even possible? You try your best to regain some composure, adjusting the collar of your shirt and clearing your throat. 

"Thank you and please excuse my rudeness. I was not expecting such a flawless replica. Our assistants are...easily recognizable as AI."

"So I've been told." His smile widens and he checks his watch. You follow his gesture, still mesmerized, trying to find a single indicator that the man standing before you is indeed a machine, a synthetic product.

Nothing.

"Shall we?" He eyes the exit path and you quickly lead him outside and towards public transport. 

He patiently waits for your fingerprint scan to be complete. You almost turn around and apologize for the old, lagging device. As a senior detective, you have the privilege of living in the more spacious, secured quarters of the city. And, since you don't have a family, the apartment intended for multiple people looks more like a luxury adobe. Still, compared to the advanced way of the Spacers, this must feel like poverty to the android.

At last, the scanner beeps and the door unlocks. 

"Heh...It's a finicky model." You mumble and invite him in.

"Yes, I'm familiar with these systems." He agrees with you and steps inside, unbuttoning his coat.

"Oh, you've seen this before?"

"In history books."

You scratch your cheek and laugh awkwardly, wondering how much of his knowledge about the current life on Earth is presented as a museum exhibit when compared to Spacer society. 

"I'm going to need a coffee. I guess you don't...?" Your words trail as you await confirmation. 

"I would enjoy one as well, if it is not too much to ask. I've been told it's a social custom to 'get coffee' as a way to have small talk." The synthetic straightens his shirt and looks at you expectantly. 

"Of course. I somehow assumed you can't drink, but if you're meant to blend in with humans...it does make sense you'd have all the obvious requirements built in."

He drags a chair out and sits at the small table, legs crossed.

"Indeed. I have been constructed to have all the functions of a human, down to every detail." 

You chuckle lightly. Well, not like you can verify it firsthand. The engineers back at the Spacer colony most likely didn't prepare him for matters considered unnecessary. 

"I do mean every detail." He adds, as if reading your mind. "You are free to see for yourself."

You nearly drop the cup in your flustered state. You hurry to wipe the coffee that spilled onto the counter and glance back at the android, noticing a smirk on his face. What the hell? Are they playing a prank on you and this is actually a regular guy? Some sort of social experiment? 

"I can see they included a sense of humor." You manage to blurt out, glaring at him suspiciously. 

"I apologize if I offended you in any way. I'm still adjusting to different contexts." The android concludes, a hint of mischief remaining on his face. "Aren't rowdy jokes common in your field of work?"

"Uh huh. Spot on." You hesitantly place the hot drink before him.

Robots on Earth have always been built for the purpose of efficiency. Whether or not a computer passes the Turing Test is irrelevant as long as it performs its task in the most optimal, rational way. There have been attempts, naturally, to create something indistinguishable from a human, but utility has always taken precedence. It seems that Spacers think differently. Or perhaps they have reached their desired level of performance a long time ago, and all that was left was fiddling with aesthetics. Whatever the case is, you're struggling not to gawk in amazement at the man sitting in your kitchen, stirring his coffee with a bored expression.

"I always thought - if you don't mind my honesty - that human emotions would be something to avoid when building AI. Hard to implement, even harder to control and it doesn't bring much use."

"I can understand your concerns. However, let me reassure you, I have a strict code of ethics installed in my neural networks and thus my emotions will never lead to any destructive behavior. All safety concerns have been taken into consideration.

As for why...How familiar are you with our colony?" The android takes a sip of his coffee and nods, expressing his satisfaction. "Perhaps you might be aware, Spacers have a declining population. Automated assistants have been part of our society for a long time now. What's lacking is humans. If the issue isn't fixed, artificial humans will have to do."

You scoff.

"What, us Earth men aren't good enough to fix the birth rates? They need robots?"

You suddenly remember the recipient of your complaint and mutter an apology. 

"Well, I'm sure you'd make a fine contender. Sadly I can't speak for everyone else on Earth." The man smiles in amusement upon seeing the pale red that's now dusting your cheeks, then continues: "But the issue lies somewhere else. Spacers have left Earth a long time ago and lived in isolation until now. Once an organism has lost its immune responses to otherwise common pathogens, it cannot be reintegrated."

True. Very few Earth citizens are allowed to enter the colony, and only do so after thorough disinfection stages, proving they are disease free as to not endanger the fragile health of the Spacers living in a sterile environment. You can only imagine the disastrous outcome if the two species were to abruptly mingle. In that case, equally sterile machinery might be their only hope.

Your mind wanders to the idea. Dating a robot...How's that? You sheepishly gaze at the android and study his features. His neatly combed copper hair, the washed out blue eyes, the pale skin. Probably meant to resemble the Spacers. You shake your head.

"A-anyways, I'll go and gather all the case files I have. Then we can discuss our first steps. Do feel at home."

You rush out and head for your office. Focus, you tell yourself mildly annoyed.

While you search for the required paperwork - what a funny thing to say in this day and age - he will certainly take up on your generous offer to make himself comfortable. The redhaired man enters the living room, scanning everything with curious eyes. He stops in front of a digital frame and slides through the photos. Ah, this must be your Police Academy graduation. The year matches with the data he's received on you. Data files he might've read one too many times in his unexplained enthusiasm. This should be you and the Commissioner; Doesn't match the description of your father, and he seems too old to be a spouse or boyfriend. Additionally, the android distinctly recalls the empty 'Relationship' field.

"Old photos are always a tad embarrassing. I suppose you skipped that stage."

He jolts almost imperceptibly and faces you. You have returned with a thin stack of papers and a hologram projector.

"I've digitalized most files I received, so you don't have to shuffle a bunch of paper around." You explain.

"That is very useful, thank you." He gently retrieves the small device from your hand, but takes a moment before removing his fingers from yours. "I predict this will be a successful partnership."

You flash him a friendly smile and gesture towards the seating area.

"Let's get to work, then. Unless you want to go through more boring albums." You joke as you lower yourself onto the plush sofa. 

The synthetic human joins you at an unexpectedly close proximity. You wonder if proper distance differs among Spacers or if he has received slightly erroneous information about what makes a comfortable rapport. 

"Nothing boring about it. In fact, I'd say you and I are very similar from this point of view." He tells you, placing the projector on the table.

"Oh?"

"Your interest in technology and artificial intelligence is rather easy to infer." The man continues, pointing vaguely towards the opposing library. "Aside from the briefing I've already received about you, that is."

"And that is similar to...the interest in humans you've been programmed to have?" You interject, unsure where this conversation is meant to lead. 

"Almost."

His head turns fully towards you and you stare back into his eyes. From this distance you can finally discern the first hints of his nature: the thin disks shading the iris - possibly CCD sensors - are moving in a jagged, mechanical manner. Actively analyzing and processing the environment. 

"I wouldn't go as far as to generalize it to all humans. 

Just you."

[iicarused]

##let us adore you

jeff the killer x reader / eyeless jack x reader / ticci toby x reader / UNEDITED

synopsis: general headcanons in which how you met them

beware: DARK THEMES / yandere traits, stalking, implied manipulation, mentions of murder &&* gore //: if there is any that i missed, please let me know !

envelope from the author: masky, hoodie, and kate chaser will be pt 2 of this:)

JEFF THE KILLER

he met you at a convenience store, how funny. this man planned on killing the cashier, take the cash and leave a meal for his cannibal friend out back, then hop to the next town over. yet, you walked through the aisles of the store at the dark of the night. do you know what kind of creeps are out here at this hour?

he waited for you to leave before he got the job done. you should feel relieved, you should feel like the most luckiest person in the world and it’s because he spared you.

“no, i’m staying back.” he would tell his eyeless friend. “it’s my business to know and for you to fuck off,” he’d argue. “i have a… dilemma.” jeff confessed. for someone he only caught a glimpse of, for a voice he only heard a faint whisper from, he didn’t know whether to stay just for you or to leave while he can.

you were a plague in his mind, because he searched for you. it took three days at most to finally find the dorms you stayed in, and another three to know your roommates schedule. everyone in the area was shaken from the murder, everything including you. but why?

he could not understand why you would lock your windows and double check if the door was locked. both of you lived in a secured building where security littered the grounds and constantly checked ID. jeff would know, he stole a carbon copy of himself (in terms of dressing style) just to make sure of your safety on campus.

“hey, watch it!” jeff barked at the random who sped by you. he fixed his mask and came to your aid, a gloved hand coming over yours to help you up from the grass.

“oh, they’re probably just late to class,” you breathed. “it’s fine, but thank you.”

through the thin lens of his sunglasses, jeff drank in your appearance. “they could’ve bumped you on to the curb side — it really ain’t, sweetheart.” you smell great by the way.

“but they didn’t.” you finally looked at him and smiled. “are you a med student?”

you’re so sweet. so pure, and he wanted to corrupt that. he wanted to see those pretty doe eyes flutter up at him like that again, for the sweetness behind your gaze was enough for him to melt. he wants you, no, he needs you.

EYELESS JACK

you were a curious one, a little too curious in this scenario. a detective in a case of which you were to figure out why bodies were missing organs — or why people were waking up with soreness to their abdomen to only find a stitched up wound.

you took this case as an eager detective who wanted to solve the biggest mystery of north america — but you felt as if you just signed your life away. in the next eight victims that fell to their demise, you made notes of when and where it occurred. it would not be until a night after talking with the sheriff and little too much rum, you found something.

to your horror, the first letter of every street spelled something. two words that nearly sent you running if it weren’t for something stopping you from leaving

“found you.” his voice was a gentle whisper, and almost incoherent if it weren’t for the dead silence in the room. you dared not turn but you felt if you didn’t, it would come closer.

the pistol is on your desk and you’re ready to make a ruckus for anyone on the street to hear. “what? was this just some silly little game for you to show me you could spell?” there were only two regrets you had in your entire life.

the first regret was that you wished you never lied to your mother of who broke the plate that was on the floor. the second regret was turning around and facing a being that was too intricate for you to understand.

“i like playing with my food.” he replied before lunging at you.

you made it out alive — but at the cost of remembering how those sockets were nothing but a void. the liquid that cried on to your face when he was on top of you, and that second, you took your pen and stabbed his side. — but that encounter made you more determined than before

this case turned into a game of cat and mouse, and neither of you know who is cat or who is the mouse. chasing each other became a source of entertainment, and conversations ensued between physical fights

he never intended on killing you, oh no. you were too… fun. the chatting, the hunting each other, the thrill of it all made him go crazy. with time, maybe he can finally sink his teeth into your skin without the murder aspect. he just wants to taste you.

TICCI TOBY

your name appeared on the file of people to “take care of.” why? he doesn’t know and quite frankly, he cannot care. you were just another name on the list that needed to be gone.

he would not lie that it took him ages to find you. the town you were supposedly at was a total flunk, and when he told the boss, he was told to figure it out. at this rate, he wanted you gone for the sake of his own sanity. yet, after a month and hopping two towns, he finally found you.

everything he had on file sprouted nothing but lies because you were a doll, quiet literally if he fixated on your skin. he watched the way you moved and the way you made it seem effortless to walk on two feet. he often tripped over his when gawking over you. your scent is just how he imagined it when he peered over your sleeping form.

you made him forget why he was in search of you in the first place. toby fantasized a lot about you: your curves, your voice, your walk, your life. he often daydreamed of it when watching from afar, especially when you went through mundane tasks such as grocery shopping. the only time he remembered why he was told to end you was when he questioned why you were such a threat.

turns out you were friends of a friend who was a foe to his boss — the eyeless man. he made it no secret when in turn he went to find jack, but he didn’t expect to meet you so soon! oh, this is way too soon, how does he look? is it okay, this setting isn’t the right place, i mean, you were supposed to be

“toby? just toby? that isn’t quiet threatening for a man like that, isn’t it?” you werent speaking towards him, but instead asking jack who snorted in return.

you were a prize on the shelf, and toby wanted to keep you behind glass doors. “listen — pal, friend — how about we make a deal.”

while jack couldn’t see it, your gaze was locked with toby’s the entire time. there was something behind them, something that you couldn’t quite place. you weren’t sure whether if it was a good or bad thing considering the work you found yourself in.

“i give you a useful warning from a boss, and i... tag a long sometimes.”

[tyunphoria]

🌪️it’s a scream, BABY ! — h.js

- - - - -

⚠️NSFW CONTENT⚠️

- - - - -

ghostface!han jisung x reader

SYPNOSIS: when you thought you finally escaped that psycho who calls himself ghostface . . . think again. he always finds you.

INCLUDES: AFAB reader, ex!bf han jisung, pet names (baby, sweetheart, etc.), slight angst near the end if you squint, SMUTTT, aftercare, ngl kinda rushed oops.

WARNINGS: obsessive behaviour, threatening, mentions of death and murders, han having slight yandere tendencies, DOM!han, fingering, hair pulling, dacryphilia, praise, implied voice kink, knife play, fear play, finger-sucking, rough sex ig idk, begging.

wc: 3.7k

You approach the front door with relief, the aches in your feet swelling after a long day. "I'm home," you call out wearily.

Silence responds. No clattering of dishes from the kitchen, no muffled music from upstairs. Just the low whine of machinery emanating from somewhere.

Frowning, you kick off your heels, biting your lip against the sting of fresh blisters forming at the back of your ankles. Your shoulders slump as you drop onto the couch, its faded pattern doing little to lift your spirits.

Wincing, you massage the ache from your feet, inspecting the angry skin stretched tight over your swollen heels. Exhaustion seeps into your bones as the steady hum of the fan fades into the background. You lean your head back, eyes drifting shut against the gathering gloom. Slipping off your shoes was the first victory of what promises to be a long night ahead.

Laundry, mopping the floor, cleaning out the cupboards; fuck it, that can wait till tomorrow morning.

Sliding the uniform jacket from your shoulders, you sigh with the release of tension. The cool air hits your skin as you unbutton your work blouse, revealing a tank top beneath.

You adjust your skirt, glad to be free of the restrictive waistband and back into casual clothes. Glancing at the clock, you let out a sigh. Your roommate must be still working out late again. So much for a promised and well deserved girl’s night.

For now, though, you tune out the noise and settle further into the couch. Remote in hand, you aimlessly scroll through TV options in search of a mindless distraction. Anything to pull your exhausted mind from the drudgery of the day.

2 years, you frown.

It’s been two years since you’ve moved to seoul after the ghostface attacks from your hometown. You were lucky enough to survive, but the price of your survival was steep. It entailed enduring the loss of friends and family.

Till this day, it’s still a mystery as to who the killer was. Rather, killers as some people theorize.

But you know who he is.

You knew ghostface all too well.

How could you not ? He was the man you once loved and cared for. Until he went batshit insane and claimed to only be doing what’s best for the both of you by killing anyone who came in between your relationship.

You can’t tell the police. You can’t tell anyone. If his name happens to get leaked in the public, you’re the first person he’d go for.

“Stop thinking about him,” you groan, rubbing your temples. He’s probably dead in a ditch somewhere, why stress over it ? You settle on the news channel instead as you slump further into the couch.

“We interrupt your regular programming with breaking news. This is Lee Dae-suk reporting live from the scene. Just moments ago, authorities received a distress call by a janitor from HYBE Co.” you quickly sit up from your seat as you hear these words. That’s where you worked . . .

“Upon arrival, they discovered a chilling scene that has left investigators and the community in shock,” the reporter continues on with how there were two victims from your workplace suffering from injury and were rushed to the er, and the other two were found dead. “. . . the initials G.F. were carved on their chests. Detectives suspect that this traces back to the ghostface attacks of 2021 in [hometown]. We advise all citizens of seoul to be on high alert for potential suspects. Law enforcement officials advises everyone to stay indoors no longer than nine.

We will keep our viewers informed as this case unfolds. We now return to your regular scheduled programming brought to you by—“

You grab the remote and quickly shut off the tv.

“Shit, please f/n, answer your phone,” you gnaw on your nails whilst pacing around the living room. If this is the same ghostface, he must’ve followed you. It would be all your fault for leading him here. The thought makes you sick.

You dial her number again with shaking hands, desperate for an answer.

“Hey—“

“F/n!”

“you’ve reached f/n’s voice mail ! i’ll call you back when—“

“Fuck !” You exclaimed, throwing your phone onto the couch in frustration. The worry and fear is eating you alive. You try calling again and again, each unanswered ring twisting the knot of anxiety in your stomach tighter. With a sigh of defeat, you finally slump down on the couch, cradling your head in your hands.

"She'll be fine...she has to be fine," you say quietly to yourself, taking a slow, steadying breath. But before you can fully calm your racing mind, your phone suddenly rings, the sound jolting through you. Your heart leaps into your throat as you don’t bother checking the caller ID before picking it up with trembling hands.

“Hello ? F/n ?”

- “hey, baby.”

replied a deep, gravelly, modulated voice.

- “miss me ?”

Your breath hitched as you froze. A shiver ran down your spine as your eyes flicker to the open blinds.

“Ghostface.” You acknowledge. From the other line, you could hear him click his tongue in disapproval.

- “I prefer the nickname ‘darling’.”

“What the fuck do you want, Jisung ?” You tried not to show any signs of fear but the slight tremble in your voice says so otherwise.

“What ? Aren’t you gonna go ask me what my favourite scary movie is ?” You made your way in the kitchen as your hand inched to grab a knife.

- “I have a better question. Do you like games, y/n ?”

You pass your index finger between the various knives on the rack, fingers wrapping around the biggest handle.

“Fuck you.”

Jisung can be heard chuckling. His laugh made your stomach twist. What sick bastard thinks all of this is just a game ?

- “Even with that knife in your hand, you’re still as beautiful as ever. And the look of fear in your face ? It’s fucking hot, baby . . .”

You feel your heart starting to race as you flinch and turn around, all your senses now activated.

- “Tell me, are you gonna stab poor ol’ ghostface with that knife ? You aren’t any better from me, y/n.”

He was taunting you and you knew that.

You end the call after telling him that he could go fuck himself before rushing over to the windows and locking them shut. Same goes for the door as well while you clutch the edge of the dinner table as if your body were threatening to collapse.

The phone vibrates in your hand, except this time it wasn’t a call but a notification from the unknown number.

Your hands begin to shake once again as you huff and puff to regain composure, clicking on the notification to reveal a video.

A video of f/n entering her car.

You jumped at another vibration. He’s trying to call you again. The whole situation was frustrating — not only were you scared as shit, also a bit agitated with how he wasn’t just threatening you but your loved ones as well.

You peer down the halls, silently peeking at every room. When you finally accept the call, your heart drops at his words.

- “Hang up on me again, I dare you. I’ll mail this bitch’s head at your door, don’t fucking test me, y/n.”

The violence of his threat burned your eyes but you had no choice but to swallow back your tears. You’d just have to listen, so no one else got hurt. You can’t bear losing anyone—not again . .

“Jisung,” you close your eyes as a shuddered breath escapes your lips. “I’ll listen. I’ll do anything you want, okay ? Just please, don’t hurt anyone.”

He slightly softens at your pleas. Jisung still loves you, with all his heart and he wishes for nothing more than to go back to how things used to be. But he knew better than that, he's already far too deep to return with how he used to be.

- “Such a good girl for me . . . See how easy it is to obey ?”

Despite the fear, you cursed at the way he still had an affect on you. Somewhere in him, it’s still the same Han Jisung you’ve grown to love. The feelings you’ve stored away after all these years were beginning to resurface, and you were ashamed to admit it.

- “hm, what game, what game . . . Have you ever heard of the game hot and cold ?”

You nod, clutching the phone tighter. Words were stuck in your throat and you knew he could see you though he seemed to be dissatisfied.

- “Use your words, beautiful.”

His nicknames are starting to trigger a reaction that you hadn’t expected and felt so guilty. Heat spreads through your body, and shamefully enough, between your legs.

“I have,” you stammer.

- “Alright. Here’s the deal; find me and all of this’ll be over. I’ll leave you alone. Sounds like a plan ?” It seems all too good to be true. Find him and then what ? Will you have to just trust his word and believe that you’ll be finally left alone ?

- “Better start looking, I’m getting impatient here, princess.”

After a few minutes, neither of you spoke. The silence is weighing heavily down on your shoulders. The thought of not knowing where he is and him being able to pop out and slice you at any moment now increased your degree of fear. You walk out of the living room and open your roommate’s door, switching the light on.

- “cold.”

You grumble in response and made your way to your own bed room, eyes landing on the doors of your closet. Hands inching closer to the handles, you hear his breathing become more erratic making you pause.

- “Why’d you stop, baby ? Perhaps I’m in there.”

Your hands trembled as you grab the handles of your closet and pulled it wide open with eyes closed. To your surprise, he wasn’t there.

- “keep looking, sweetheart.” He laughs tauntingly. “Remember, this isn’t some cliche horror movie. The closet, really ?”

- “What's next ? The basement ?”

“Fuck you !” You didn’t wanna play this game anymore. By the time you found him, you’d be dead from a heart attack.

You exit your room and keep walking.

- “still cold.”

Sighing in annoyance, you head for the opposite direction, about to pass the bathroom till he spoke.

- “warmer.”

Taking a deep breath, the door creaks open as you step inside, flicking the light switch on. You inch closer to the shower curtain, letting out a tiny whimper.

- “You’re getting so warm. Very good, baby.”

You never had a thing for praise till now and let me just say that shit made your knees buckle. You wish you could just tell him to stop messing with you, the whole situation itself was already confusing enough.

- “Now you’re boiling.”

You grip the shower curtain and throw it open.

Nothing.

Absolutely, nothing.

“Bastard,” you groan. “Show yourself, asshole ! I’ll beat the shit out of you !“

- “hey now, no need to get violent. Keep talking to me like that and I’ll fuck that attitude out of you,” han spat.

“I’m done with your shit. Grow a pair and come at me, why don’t you ?” You held your phone tightly in your hand you could’ve crushed it. You head to the kitchen and grab a glass of water to soothe your dry throat. You laugh in realization, “I doubt you’re even here. God, I’m so stupid. I can’t believe I fell for it. How else could you send the video if her work’s like miles and miles away ?”

- “you asked for it. No backing out, ‘kay babe ?”

You pause. “What ?”

You immediately drop the glass along with your phone as a gloved hand reaches from behind to clasp over your mouth. Letting out a muffled scream, you thrash in his grasp, reaching to grab the knife from the counter but his free hand swiftly takes hold of both of your wrists and binding them behind your back as the masked man hunches you over the counter.

“Surprise, y/n.”

Tears blur your vision with your screams and whimpers getting muffled by jisung’s glove. He lets go, giving you some time to catch your breath.

“Let go, jisung !”

He inhales audibly, bringing you tight against him. “Scared, sweetheart ? I know you want this as much as I do . . . Think I didn’t notice the way you were practically soaking wet with just my voice ?” His hips push forward and the massive shape of his hard cock makes you weak. “Such a naughty, naughty girl.”

The unwelcome throb between your legs is spreading through your abdomen. A moan threatens to leave your mouth but you manage to bite your lip. His hand inches lower, slipping through the waistband of your shorts, clenching your thighs to refrain from giving him access.

“Open those legs for me, pretty girl,” he clicks his tongue, getting impatient.

“Burn in hell.”

With that little comment, he rips off your shorts along with your lacy panties. A new complaint comes from the back of your throat and you start to squirm and thrash again, unconsciously moving your ass against his clothed cock to push him away.

He snickers, keeping you pinned on the counter. “Impatient, are we ?” He lifts his robe and tugs his sweatpants down. Han jerks you back against him, pulling you off the counter and holding you tight against his hard dick.

“I missed you,” he rips his mask off, trailing kissing along your neck while he taps the flat of the knife against your cheek. “So fucking much . . .”

“What do you want ?” You gulp, melting in his tight embrace. God, you missed this. You missed him.

“You.” He rolls his eyes, “thought it was pretty obvious, but guess i have to spell it out.”

Han lightly trails the tip of the knife down your cleavage and stomach, applying more pressure afterwards to slice your tank top open. The cold air hitting your hardened nipples and the knife lightly dragging along your breasts made you gasp and arch your back against him.

He teases your cunt with the handle, dragging the object along your folds as he circles your clit with it. “Like that, sweetheart ?”

You moan as he smiles at the cry he drew from you.

“Use your words, baby,”

You took a shaky breath, hips swaying. “Fuck you, han jisung.”

He plasters on an amused smile as he shoves the handle in your cunt.

“I really gotta fix that nasty attitude of yours.” He says, taking his glove off.

He replaces the handle with his fingers, gently curling them as he moves it in and out your sopping pussy. You draw out a long whine, legs trembling and you could barely keep yourself up. “Oh god…. Fuck, jisung….”

The cute noises you were making encourages him to keep going as he picks up the pace, thrusting his fingers harder and deeper.

His other hand reaches up and closes his fist around your throat, scissoring his fingers inside of you. You’re reaching for logic, for dignity, but everywhere there’s only him.

Your moans were getting louder and louder at each plunge of his fingers, deciding ‘fuck it’ since it felt too good to stop now. His thumb pressed your clit in a delicious way which brought a familiar sensation in your lower belly. The coil in your stomach tightens painfully.

Han grins at this, knowing you were close.

He purposely pulls his fingers out before your release, suddenly feeling empty as a long string of curses and whines spill from your lips.

“Seriously ? Literally what the fuck—“

Han silences you by pushing the two fingers into your mouth.

His fingers skillfully venture deeper into your throat. The slight pressure causes you to choke momentarily, a mix of vulnerability and exhilaration flooding your senses. Your lips form a tight seal around his fingers, tongue swirling and sucking on them as the primal desire to please him fuels your actions while you greedily lapped your tongue.

His mouth, warm and eager, delicately explored the tender flesh of your neck beneath his lips. The sensation sends shivers down your spine, breath hitching in anticipation as he lines himself up against your entrance.

Moaning, you can’t help but impatiently grind against him

“What’s wrong baby ?” Han releases his fingers from your mouth as you gasp for air. “want my cock instead ?”

You nod eagerly.

His grip on your hip tightens as he tugs your hair back, eliciting a curt hiss from your hips. “Words, y/n.”

“Yes . . Please, I want you so bad, please fuck me.”

“Good girl.” He wastes no time sheathing and snapping himself inside of you, his thrust knocking the wind out of your lungs. He swears quietly, feeling how soft your walls were pulsing around him — warm and perfect, everything he missed over the past few years. You choke on your words, eyes fogging with tears as you slur out random sentences.

He grunts, starting off slow. “Thought I stretched you out pretty good but you’re still so goddamn tight. When was the last time you fucked someone, pretty baby ?”

Han deepens his strokes but keeps a teasingly slow pace. “Pl—Please, Jisung-ah …. go faster.” You sniffle, pathetically begging for his cock at this point. It hurt too much. You needed him more than ever.

“Where's the girl who was telling me to burn in hell a couple of minutes ago ?” He laughs and grabs your jaw to turn and face him, “you look better so needy for me like that . . Now, answer my question.” A groan leaves your mouth as his grip gets tighter.

“Since you left !” You sob as he rocks his hips faster, quickly fucking into your heat. “I haven’t found anyone as good as you, jisung-ah—“

He grins, roughly pinning you down on the counter. It was the answer he exactly wanted to hear.

You gasp as he hits a particularly sensitive spot, beginning to see stars as he brings a hand around to the front, running a finger against your swollen clit.

Moving inside of you at a nearly brutal pace, as you feel your release come closer and closer. He feels it too with the way you tighten around him. “M’cumming,” you whine, but he doesn’t stop. Then you came, walls clenching around him as he fucked you through your orgasm. Your legs tremble under the intensity, tapping on his arm for him to let you breathe for a second.

His hands grab your waist and uses it as leverage to thrust into you, leaving you little to no time to at least catch your breath. You try to speak but another one of his hard thrusts trigger a loud moan.

“Doing so well for me, baby. Think you can cum a second time ?” You moan brokenly, unable to respond. Your tongue hangs from your swollen lips and your throat feels dry. You never expected being fucked silly by the one and only han jisung ever again but here we are. You feel selfish for not wanting it to end and for wanting to be with him again.

He pulls you up and flips you around, hungrily smashing his lips against yours as if he’s been waiting to finally taste and have you all to himself for decades.

- - - -

“I hate you,” you groan as he lays you down on the soft mattress of your bed. “so fucking much.” Han only ever grins in response as he wipes away the cum trickling down your inner thighs.

You can barely move. You can’t even twitch a single finger.

Your limbs were sore and it was all his fault.

Summoning the last ounce of strength within you, you deliver a knee to his abdomen, eliciting a deep grunt from his lips. A look of mild annoyance crosses his face as he settles down beside you, encircling your waist with his strong arm. He presses his face into the soft curve of your neck, his fingertips tracing soothing circles along the tender flesh of your thighs.

“I missed you,”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry.”

You didn’t respond to that.

Suddenly, your lips meet in a sweet collision, a mingling of desire and longing. The taste of anticipation linger on your tongues as Han’s kisses began soft and tender, gentle brushes of lips that convey a depth of emotion words could never capture. With each meeting of your mouths, your passion ignites, growing more fervent, more urgent.

His hand cradles your cheek, his thumb tracing the curve of your jawline, while your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, deepening the ardor of your embrace. Your mouths moved in perfect synchronicity, exploring and claiming, as if they were trying to memorize every contour, every taste.

The moment is abruptly shattered by the piercing wail of police sirens echoing just outside the house. Panic grips your heart, forcing you to acknowledge the harsh reality that the person you love is still a criminal; a killer.

With a heavy sigh, he gently drapes the covers over your form, shielding you from the impending chaos. Reluctantly, he pulls himself away, but not without leaving a lingering kiss upon your trembling lips, as if to imprint his love upon you, even in the face of uncertainty.

"Y/n?!" A familiar voice calls out from outside, the voice of your roommate.

His lips press against your forehead, his touch both comforting and fleeting. Your fingers instinctively cling to his sleeve, desperately trying to hold onto the moments you have shared.

"Wait, Jisung..." you plead, your voice laced with apprehension and longing. Your thumbs nervously fiddle with each other, betraying the whirlwind of emotions swirling within you.

A mischievous smile plays upon his lips as he leans closer, his voice a whispered reassurance. "Will you come back?" The thought of losing him again scared you.

"It isn’t that easy to get rid of me," he smiles cheekily as he opens the window sill, "Don't miss me too much.

“Remember, whether you like it or not, I'll always find you."

a/n: the amount of times ive watched all of the scream movies (esp 1, 4, and 6) is not healthy</3

also, han jisung brain rot wkjanjanw

this was honestly supposed to be a two part with minsung but i decided against it idk kinda wanna do more ghostface aus with ateez or something

like im boutta write some ethan landry x readers cus lemme js say 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

[kierahn]

CATCH ME. [ y ! detective x m ! criminal reader ]

yandere! detective x criminal! male reader

[ nsfw, minors dni. ]

warnings:

noncon/dubcon?

blindfolding

bondage

slight degradation

request here.

× you were an infamous criminal in your area, well-known for your heinous acts and well thought out tactics. money laundering, robbery, murder; you've done it all without ever getting caught. either the justice system sucked, or you were just way too good at getting away with things.

× however, you were met with a dilemma when a new detective arrived in town. it was entertaining to watch him try to piece together all the evidences you purposely leave behind for him.

× you soon learn that the detective's name was Milo, a rookie detective that recently graduated top of his class. he was fresh out of the oven which made him more interesting and fun to toy with. his look of frustration everytime you would once again escape his grasp was always a delight to see.

× as days passed, the interactions between you and Milo increased, and it seemed like he was getting better and better at reading your next moves. this raised an alarm inside your head, knowing that there was a chance you would eventually get caught if this goes on. so you chose to take the safer route and temporarily stopped your acts of crime for a few weeks. just to throw the detective off your tracks.

× unbeknownst to you, the detective already had a hunch about your identity.. no, he knew exactly who you were. after all, he didn't graduate top of his class for nothing. maybe you've underestimated him a little too much.

× it was fun for Milo to watch your ego inflate over time until you eventually began to slip up one-by-one, unconsciously making mistakes that could've been easily resolved if you were a little more careful.

× and now that you've gone into hiding, it was the best time for Milo to engage. your guard was down which would make it easier for him to capture you. it wasn't necessarily hard for him to track your location, not with the chip that he had successfully attached to you during a previous chase.

× however, instead of finding yourself locked away and rotting in prison, you found yourself in the detective's room. hands cuffed together above your head and your eyes blindfolded using Milo's tie, the detective ruthlessly pounding into you with no signs of slowing down.

× "ngh–! .. h, ah ~ s..low" you pleaded through the lewd moans that escaped your lips. the blindfold that blocked your vision made you ten times more sensitive than you usually were, making you feel every vein and curve of his cock inside you. he didn't seem to hear your pleads for him to slow down as he increased his pace, adjusting himself and your thigh that rested against his shoulder to allow himself to bury himself deeper into you.

× "!!" he felt the muscle on your thigh twitch and your hole tighten around his cock, making the detective smirk knowingly. "Found it," he mumbled under his breath, pulling out until only his tip was left inside before ramming down on the same spot repeatedly.

× his right hand held your wrist in place, his other gripping your waist in a bruising grip as he dicked you down 'til you were dumb and needy. each thrust perfectly hit the right spots, bringing you closer and closer to your climax.

× "cumming so soon, y/n ?" Milo mocked the male under him, the hand that was on your waist moving to harshly grasp your cheeks. "considering your stamina during all those times you slipped away from my grasp, I expected you to last a little longer." he observed the drool leaking down chin, the tears that cascaded down your flushed cheeks, and the sweat that clung onto your skin. you looked so weak under him, made him wonder how you managed to slip from the hands of justice for so long.

× you came after a few thrusts, spilling your own load all over your lower abdomen. that didn't stop the dective from chasing his own release, his pace getting increasingly brutal with each thrust. you were already tired, feeling overstimulated from your previous orgasm, that you couldn't help but whine. you tried to pull yourself away from the detective's grasp and crawled backwards onto the bed's headboard, but he simply dragged you back towards him by your ankle.

× "oh, no no. you're not slipping away from me this time, y/n ~" Milo cooed as he kept you down by straddling your waist with his weight, his neglected cock resting on top of your stomach. "accept it, this is your punishment."

× the detective's stamina was inhuman. you would cum about 4 times before he could get his own relief. mind you, he did this five times without stopping that you've completely lost your consciousness halfway.

[honeykaes]

masked fantasy

slasher!lyney x reader II 2.8k

warning: smut, 18+ content, minors do not interact, afab!reader with no set pronouns, modern au, implied!yandere, implied murder, fingering, cunnilingus, use of toys, creampie, overstimulation, dacryphilia, praise pussydrunk!lyney, established relationship, gaslighting/manipulation, mention of blood, unedited

synopsis: you've been on edge lately seeing news report after news report of people killed by a masked pierrot serial killer, targeting people you seemed to vaguely know. your boyfriend, lyney, insists you drop it and focus on him instead to try to get your mind off of things. you listen, but something in the pit of your stomach continues to nag at you.

Gloomy clouds above hid the stars and the moonlight above. Rain loudly padded against the windows, a small waterfall streaming down it. You snuggled into your blanket further on the couch in an attempt to knock the chill away from the living room. A sigh emitted from your lips watching the 6:00 p.m. news report of yet another murder in your town from a masked serial killer. This wouldn’t very unique to some; however, you began to notice a pattern 

The media and detectives have deemed him the Pierrot—a serial killer who dons a French Carnival-Style Jester mask. Reports from the police said he’s still at large and seemed to be killing indiscriminately, but you knew a little better. The photos of the victims all shared one thing in common with you, you had vaguely known them in the past. 

One was an old high school classmate, another was a teacher's assistant who once assisted your professors in college, another was a barista worker from a cafe you sometimes go to, even old childhood friends you haven’t spoken to for years. You wanted to chalk it up to a weird coincidence but the pit in your stomach churned, discouraging you to relax. 

You worry whoever this masked killer was, he was working his way to you.

Thunder suddenly boomed in the sky, causing your body to jolt from the noise. You let out a sigh; the stress seemed to finally be getting to you. 

Your boyfriend walked in, an amused but concerned smile on his face. You and Lyney had been dating for a while now, meeting in college when you decided to study abroad in France. Eventually, you moved into his place that he shared with his two siblings—his twin sister Lynette and his adoptive younger brother Freminet. 

Things were great with Lyney. He was doting, caring, and amusing as well. He made you happy; he felt real. He was someone you could imagine marrying maybe in a year or two.

“You alright? You seem a bit jumpy today,” he hummed, handing you a mug of hot chocolate. The aroma of the milk chocolate made your mouth water as marshmallows floated on top. You flash a small smile, taking the mug for him and taking a sip—hoping the warm liquid would coax your anxiety.

“Honestly, not really. The whole Pierrot serial killer thing has been really bothering me lately. I vaguely know the victims, albeit there aren’t people I know like that or associate myself with now. But, still! I recognize them,” you sighed, looking at the reflection of your mug. Lyney’s face slightly softened at your confession.

“...I’m scared that the killers are actually targeting me. Like this is some fucked up mind game or whatever. I’m scared it’ll also mean the people that I currently care about are in danger too. …like you,” you muttered. Lyney chuckled slightly before you looked up at him and narrowed your eyes. He covered his mouth, trying to stifle his laughter, murmuring apologies as he tried to calm down.

“Darling, I wouldn’t worry about it too much. Besides, you have your amazing, attentive, loveable, strong boyfriend here to help. I’m here to protect both you and my siblings,” he chimed, leaning in to peck your forehead. You side-eye the man as he plopped down next to you on the couch, placing his mug of hot chocolate on the coffee table. He grabbed some of the blankets covering your lower body, getting in close to cover his form as well. Your thighs and sides pressed together as he smiled.

“I don’t know if a shortie like you will be able to fight off a psychopath,” you chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. Slight annoyance flashed through Lyney’s amethyst eyes as he pouted.

“You’d be surprised…” he muttered. You chuckled once more before leaning in to kiss Lyney’s plush cheek as his eyes softened in affection. 

“Well, let’s just lighten the mood. We were going to watch Halloween special shows after all,” Lyney chimed, leaning over to grab the remote and change the television. That was right, today was supposed to be your date night. Freminet was having a sleepover with some of his friends and Lynette, begrudgingly, went out to give you two some space.

You felt Lyney’s hands underneath the blanket stroke against your thigh. At first, it was his thumb, before his whole hand slowly crept up and down. You gazed flickered to his that were glued to the television screen, albeit they were half-lidded and a smirk fell on his now rosy face.

“Well, aren’t you a bit touchy,”  you murmured.

“Oh, am I? I didn’t seem to notice,” he hummed back, turning his gaze towards you. As he leaned in close—lips hovering by your own—a cell phone rang loudly. Your body jolted up once more, not expecting the sudden noise as anxiety shot throughout your entire body. Lyney flashed a sympathetic smile as a soft chuckle echoed out. He padded your thigh to try to comfort you, reaching out to grab his phone that was ringing out.

“We got to get you to relax, mon amour,” he murmured. He got up from his seat, walking away from your form. 

Guilt gnawed on your body. You felt bad for being so anxious lately from this serial killer like your body is completely on edge as if you were a rabbit in the den of wolves, but you shouldn’t.

“I’m in my home. I am with my loving boyfriend. I am okay, I am safe,” you whispered out to yourself. Eventually, Lyney walked back in, and settled back to his spot on the couch.

“That was Lynette. She said that she would be coming home around midnight. It gives us plenty of time if you want this that is,” he stated, letting his hands trail across your thighs. You smiled, placing your hands on his cheeks. The corners of his lips curved up, leaning his head against your touch.

“I think a distraction would be good for me,” you whispered. His nose brushed against yours, lips hovering to where they once were before the interruption.

“Then forget all your troubles and leave everything to me…”

His lips finally found themselves to your own and you brought him closer to you. Your legs widened as his knees sank against the cushion of the couch to lean to you, deepening the kiss. Your hand reached over, softly grazing the crotch of his pants feeling his half-hardened cock pressing against his jeans. A soft moan escapes his lips, still connecting with yours before he parts away, and trails them along the nape of your neck.

“We…need to go to the bedroom,” Lyney groaned, continuing to kiss down your neck and nibble at the sensitive skin. Your body shivered, and you bit your lip to hide the smile creeping on your face.

“Oh, but you’re the one who has me pinned down here,” you reminded. With a grunt and pout, Lyney leaned back up, grabbed your hand, and found his way to your lips once more. The two of you bumped into walls—taking each other’s clothing off, leaving a trail to your shared bedroom. Lyney pushed you down on the bed as he slowly crawled on top of you with a mischievous smile.

“You seem so eager now. What’s the difference, chérie?” he hummed, dragging his lips across your thighs. His hands squeezed at your thighs as his lips finally trailed along the plush flesh. His hand reached to cup your cunt earning a soft moan from you as he nipped at your thighs. 

“You seemed to be a great distraction, I guess,” you whined, grinding your core into his hand to encourage him to stop teasing you. Lyney playfully rolled his eyes, letting his two longest fingers sink inside your cunt, drilling them to precision and skill.

“‘I guess’” he mocked. “You, out of anyone, should know I’m more than just a ‘guess’. You know how well you enjoy passing the time with my fingers deep inside of you like this…or my mouth…or my cock. As he continued to plunge his fingers deeper inside of you, feeling your walls flutter, he couldn’t stop himself from grinding against the bed to try to get some friction on his throbbing clothed cock.

He soon learned near your drooling core, globs of your slick clinging against the fingers plunging inside of you.

“But, it’s fine. I’ll ensure you’ll think of me and nothing else. Just me and only me,” he stated. He finally pressed his lips against your clit as your body jolted in delight. Your hands dug into his soft ash-blond hair, pulling him in even deeper as his chuckles reverberated against the nub. He darted his tongue out, beginning to slowly swirl circles along the perimeter of it before letting his tongue flick rapidly on the bundle of nerves.

Your body shivered in pleasure, back arched, as Lyney tried to contain his smile, feeling your thighs beginning to press against the cheek of his face. He continued to flick his tongue against your clit before encompassing his lips around it and sucking on it—fingers not wavering and continuing to thrust inside of you.

Lyney lifted your leg against one of his shoulders and he pressed the flat of his tongue against the nub, offering a few gentle licks on it before he shifted back to suck on it. You writhed underneath him, as his blunt nails dug into your hips to try to prevent you from moving too much. The sinful sounds of slouching echoed out in the bedroom, your cheeks hot feeling overwhelmed by the attention and meticulous touch of both his mouth and fingers.

“Lyney, oh fuck. Please, please…!” you begged out. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, back arched once more—quivering—as you finally reached your high. His breath is heavy, letting your leg fall back down on the bed, leaning up to watch your pussy convulsed against nothing. His lower mouth glistened in your arousal as he licked his lips to clean up what slick clung onto there. The sweet taste of it was enough to make Lyney grin, watching your tired form trying to recover from your climax. 

He leaned down against your side, feeling his hard and pulsating cock against the soft globes of your ass. He grabbed a handful of the globe, letting his cock slide between your thighs and slit a few times. As he made contact with your overstimulated clit you jolted and a soft whine emitted from you. Lyney laughed, tapping his tip against it a few times before he finally let himself slowly plunge inside of you. 

As Lyney slowly sank deeper, He moved his mouth to your neck, groaning loudly, feeling your walls pulsating. When he finally bottomed out, his lips softly kissed your neck before rutting into you. The sound of slapping skin was loud inside the room and the smell of sweat wafted throughout it too. Lyney continued to nibble at your neck, admiring the bruises and hickies he decorated on the skin. His groaning got louder as he sucked a breath in, feeling your walls beginning to cave and tighten. 

“Fuck,” Lyney moaned out loudly. You gasped as you felt him move and shift your body. Your ass hung in the air, as your head said laying on the pillows. His nails harpoon against your ass, drilling himself even deeper inside of you. As he continued to rut inside of you, he leaned down and kissed your back, groaning once more. He could feel your walls continuing to cave in, making it harder for him to control his thrusts and not lose himself too much in the pleasure.

He suddenly slipped out, cock quivering as he took a few breaths to try to control himself from climaxing. As he softly sighed, moving past it, he opened his eyes and admired your widening hole drooling out. 

“W-What are you…” you asked, softly before Lyney pressed a finger to his lips. He reached over to the nightstand, rummaging through it. You thought he was looking for a condom, but your eyes widened seeing him pull out a small bullet vibrator instead. He held down the button on the side as the contraption began to vibrate erratically in the palm of his hands.

“I think keeping you on your toes would be best for tonight. Besides, I haven’t heard you use this before when I’m in the shower,” he chuckled as you bit your lip in embarrassment. He slid his cock back inside of you, before snaking his hand around and pressing the erratically moving vibrator against your overstimulated clit. You cried out his name, his thrusts deep and rapid. The whole bed creaked to his fast strokes, Lyney’s breaths getting heavier as he repeated your name in a slurred way as if your cunt had made him drunk.

“There…there…there…that’s right,” Lyney moaned out. You covered your face feeling tears begin to prick out as the pleasure and burn of overstimulation settled in. You shout his name, body convulsing as you reach your high for the second time tonight, writhing for what it seemed like hours beneath him. 

In a dazed form, you felt Lyney flip you over admiring your absolute fucked-out form, quickly turning the vibrator off and throwing it across the bed. He continued to plunge himself inside of you. His eyes admire your chest bouncing to the fast pace of his thrusts. His cheeks were flushed and his voice whining, grunting, and groaning your name. You could barely focus on anything, your legs instinctively moved and wrapped against his small waist.

“I love you. I love you. Je t’aimerai toujours. Je n’aime que toi!” Lyney moaned out. He leaned his head back, snapping his eyes shut as he finally reached his high. His hips continued to bug, thrusting the ropes of cums deeper inside of you. He bit his lip as another soft moan emitted from him, taking heavy breaths before looking down at you. 

He smiled, wiping away the tears pricking your eyes, speaking softly, and whispered in his mother tongue affection gestures to make sure you were alright. He placed his forehead against your own seeing you slowly come back from your senses, eyes completely tired but your form relaxed. There wasn’t an inch of tension he could see that you had before.

Lyney brought his lips down against your own, offering a slower and more sensual kiss.

“You know I’d do anything, absolutely anything for you. I love you so much it hurts,” he whispered. You smiled, pecking his forehead as he slowly pulled himself out of you. Soon globs of his cum began dribbling from your cunt and he couldn’t help but smile at the sight. Your eyes drift to the clock; Lynette will be coming home soon. You two needed to clean up and shower to avoid any unnecessary awkward conversations.

You finally closed your legs, moving to get up from the bed you accidentally hit the vibrator down as it fell to the floor. You sighed as you got up, your legs wobbly as you tried to readjust yourself.

“W-Wait! Don’t worry about it. I’ll get it and change the sheets. You just go clean up in the bathroom. If you need help just tell me, but I don’t want you to fall!” Lyney suddenly murmured. He seemed oddly on edge suddenly. You shrugged, leaning down to pick the toy up.

“It’s fine, it’s just right here. I can take…care of it….” your voice trailed off. Your eyes catch something odd under the bed. You reached to grab it, revealing that same Jester mask you saw on the news report from earlier. Parts of it seemed more damaged and cracked than the rendering the broadcast had, with a particular smudge with a dark red substance splattered on it.

Dried blood. 

You look up in horror to gaze back at Lyney. His eyes, which you always knew were sweet and kind, looked back to you with more of a darker twist—his lips cemented in a frown. 

“I told you to drop it, didn’t I…?” he sighed. You felt frozen in shock and fear as Lyney moved from the top of the bed to join you on the floor. His eyes, still twirled with that dark emotion you couldn’t read well, but his gaze softened. His lips curled up in a smile, you couldn’t tell if it was genuine or if he was just trying to comfort you from the revelation.

He dragged his thumb against your cheek, wiping away the tears that cascaded down. You didn’t notice you were crying.

“....Because sometimes we prefer the fantasy than the truth darling.”

[neowinestainedress]

𝐃𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘 𝐀 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄, 𝐃𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄?

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈���𝐆: any nct member!ghostface x detective!fem!reader 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄: “horror”, thriller, yandere-ish, smut, halloween special, scream!au 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: in these past months your only goal is to find the killer that is terrorizing the town of Woodsboro, but when you get close to him and feel like you finally have the upper hand, Ghostface turns the game around again.  Or, Ghostface wants to play with you but not like he does with his victims, and you let him. 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: dark content, talks of [m*rders, sl!tting throats, v!olent stuff in general], dr*g/anaesthetic use [to make mc fall asleep but unrelated to any sexu*l act (she’s awake and willing)], mentions of [dubcon] phone s*x + masturbation, implied stalking, use of restrainers, cl!t rubbing, rough t!t/n!pple play, protected s*x turns unprotected, kn!fe play, ‘fear’ play, clothes cutting, fake sympathy, pet names used in a mocking way, degradation, rough s*x, hair pulling, spit (1), p*ssy slapping, dacryphilia, possessiveness, 1 brief talk of carving, polaroids pictures, all consensual but i’ll still put a dubcon warning just to be safe (tbh it’s more like hate sex bc the mc would rip his head off but also fuck him), reader is kinda fucked up herself. | inclusivity notes: reader has hair long enough that can be pulled (no mention of texture, type and color), no mention of body type but reader is manhandled a few times and has b**bs and *ss big enough that can be cupped, no mention of skin color, no use of y/n 𝐖𝐂: 10.662k 𝐀/𝐍: this year i had vague ideas for halloween but not even a defined good one, i had some suggestions i liked but were far too complicated, and i had no energy to write them in time. but a ghostface/scream au was an idea i had in mind for some time, the original was a ghostface cosplay, but then i went with this one, and I’m happy with how it turned out. i had 2 members in mind (johnny/haechan) for the og plot, then someone suggested jeno and jisung (as a duo) but if i unmasked him the plot wouldn’t have made sense anymore, so he’s whoever you want him to be! the other ghostface is mentioned but doesn’t appear physically in the story, you can pick who you want for him too. i never wrote blankly for the male mc so let me know if it was good. please, if you like it, leave feedback through reblogs or asks! and also let me know who you imagined behind the mask 👀 enjoy and happy halloween

𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐀 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐄.

Your mother always told you to mind your business or else your curiosity was going to be the death of you one day.

It’s clear you never treasured her words, and your curiosity led you to be a private detective with only a few thrills in your life since now, nothing too exciting ever happened in your small town, until one day you received a phone call from the district of Woodsboro. A string of murders was terrorizing the town after years and all the evidence led to another psycho who thought it was funnier to kill people while putting on a Ghostface mask. 

Months have passed since that call and you have nothing concrete. It’s like he’s only messing up with you and, in the meantime, innocent people keep dying. But you have your theories, the ones you only keep to yourself, stored away in the privacy of your diary, hidden under the pillow of your bed. Your colleagues seem decent people, but with time, you’ve learned to trust nobody. 

And your secret theories led you right where you are now. In the open country, away from the small town, where a small barn grabbed your attention the first time you moved to Woodsboro. 

The barn seems empty but eerie vibes surround it. The strong smell of the grass stings your nose as your black boots walk on the muddy ground, the rain of this morning still lingering in the air and in the countryside. 

When you reach the perimeter, you squeeze your eyes to see inside, but the few tiny windows don’t allow you a big view. The more you walk around it to make sure it’s empty, the more the hold on your concealed carry with the gun inside tightens.  

It’s late October and the cold penetrates your brown leather jacket, but the temperature is not the thing that makes you shiver. 

You should’ve never followed your instinct and come here alone. You should’ve spoken to somebody else in the department, told them your theory and have some backup in this crazy plan of yours. But when your impulses take over, your smartness slips away, and you find yourself in the worst situations ever. 

Like right now. You stand in front of the wooden door and find the courage to push it open. You should feel thrilled, you found him. You found the psycho that has been haunting the town for months now, messing up with you with clues and mocks that pushed you farther away from the right path. Yet, you beat him, for once it looks like you have the upper hand now that you’re walking around the empty barn away from the town. But something doesn’t feel right, your guts are telling you something but you don’t listen, you can’t walk away now that you’re so close.

There’s not much to inspect, a few pieces of furniture, a disheveled mattress in the middle of the room, and a few chairs in a corner. It almost looks like an abandoned farm if only it wasn’t for the unnerving vibes that carries with it and for two walls that call your attention. On the right, there’s a map of Woodsboro, pins linked by a red thread, connecting all the places where Ghostface hit in these past months. Your hand quickly reaches the back of your pocket to pull out your phone and snap a picture, hoping there will also be places he didn’t go, and this time you can be faster at stopping him. 

What’s on the other side is worse. 

“What the fuck…” you mumble under your breath as you step closer to the wall. Polaroid pictures hanging from it, Ghostface and the victims, you guess, moments before they were brutally killed. You’re not surprised, one of the gifts he would leave on the scene of the crime being Polaroids, but they didn’t make much sense. “He’s a fucking psycho,” you scoff as you take another picture. 

“Surpriiise!!” 

Your phone falls on the floor with a loud thud and your heart jumps in your throat when his voice breaks the deafening silence in the room, but your reflections are swift enough to make you reach for your gun and turn around, shooting. 

“Boo, fail,” Ghostface laughs, hitting your wrist hard enough to make the gun fall on the floor next to your phone. “You’re really not as smart as I thought you were, don’t you know intruding on someone else’s property is illegal?” he points out, pushing your body against the wall, the sharp blade of his knife grazing the skin of your neck. 

You try to keep calm, deep slow breaths as you try to don’t look scared for your life. You might die today, but you won’t give him that satisfaction. 

“Don’t look so frightened, my dear. I’m quite happy to have you all to myself,” he chuckles, his hand lifts to caress your face and you struggle to avoid it, but the click of his tongue makes you stop. “I wouldn’t act too careless, it’s sharp.” 

You stop moving. You are smart, and you can get yourself out of this situation. “Do you want to play a game, Ghostface?” You ask, ignoring his taunts, the irony in your voice is clear, just like it’s blatant in the slow bat of your eyelashes, but your words only make him laugh. 

“Oh, that’s not how it works, detective. That’s my line. You didn’t study the script?” 

You scoff, trying to take time to free yourself. “We’re switching roles. Do you want to play a game? It’s called you turn yourself in and I put you in jail.” 

He snickers, and his head tilts to have a better look at your face. He’s had many people in this position before and never saw so little fear in their eyes. “Now you want to act like you don’t love the chase?” 

“Fuck you, I don’t love it,” you spit out, narrowing your eyes, desperately trying to get a glimpse of anything under the mask. Another failed attempt. 

He laughs darkly, so deep it hits you to the core and makes you shiver — in fear or excitement, you’ll let this decide to your better judgment. “I know you do,” he coos as his thumb covered with the black glove caresses your lips. “Enjoy the little clues I leave you around? You were interested in the pictures, I knew you loved them, that’s why you get the prettiest ones. I tell you so much, but you don’t understand me,” his voice is calm, scarily calm, and full of sarcasm filled with a sweetness that feels like a slap across your face. “I was a bit mad it took you so long to find me.”

Rage shoots up inside of you, but you instantly push it down, you can’t lose your composure. “So, what are you going to do, kill me?” Your voice drops of a tone, and your eyes turn into a teasing gaze, making him chuckle. 

“Talking about death so nonchalantly with me, mmh… are you brave or dumb? Because if you ask so nicely, I just might let the knife sink in.” 

You laugh lightheartedly, putting up the best performance of your life before your eyes flutter seducingly at him. “No, please don’t kill me Mr. Ghostface, I wanna be in the sequel,” you coo, lips in a pout and innocence in your eyes, until you hit him with a swift, strong kick between his legs, the distraction of your performance giving you time to slip to the side, causing just a bit of your skin to cut and bleed. 

“Bitch,” he mutters under his breath as he kneels to the ground. You reach for your gun, but barely have time to grab it before he pushes you on the floor again. “We were having so much fun, you just have to ruin everything.” 

You’re waiting for the worst when he traps you on the floor with his body on yours, but his arms don’t lift to stab you in your chest or stomach, the last thing you see before passing out is his hand lifting in the air and the sting of a needle pushing past your skin. 

The white light of the room feels like staring directly at the sun when your eyes blink repeatedly as you try to come back to earth and push away the hammering of your headache. You groan hoarsely, trying to adjust to the light, but the biggest discomfort comes from your shoulders, pushed behind your back and around the chair you’re now sitting on. 

“Sorry, I had to tie you up, but you’re a bit feisty today. Didn’t want you to get hurt,” Ghostface replies to your silent questions — not so silent, considering how loud you’re groaning and struggling on the chair, trying to break free. He’s standing in front of you, but a chair is right behind him so you guess he was sitting there before you woke up. 

“You can’t even take one down without a fight? Need to kill me without breaking a sweat?” You taunt, eyes dark and a deep frown on your forehead. 

But your teasing seems to leave him unfazed as he walks toward you with a glass in hand. “Drink.” 

You scoff, staring at him. You hate that you can’t see him, not even because you want to find out who’s hiding under there, but also because you feel like you can’t confront him well enough. “You think I’m so stupid to accept a drink from a psycho?”

His head rolls back followed by an annoyed sigh as he stops right in front of you. His black boots bumping against yours. “You know that’s not how I move, no fun in killing with these shortcuts. Drink. I would never want you to pass out here,” he coos while his free hand pushes your hair out of your face. You can’t see behind the mask, but you know he has a shit-eating grin on his face. He moves the glass to your lips, but you turn to the side, he doesn’t give you a choice when he strongly grips your chin, pushing your lips open, and forces the water down your throat. “Oops, it spilled all over, you’re so messy, detective,” he snickers when water drips on your chin and shirt. As if he didn’t do it on purpose. 

“Asshole,” you mutter, eyes closing into fissures while you look at him. His head tilts, “Oh, brave. I could slit your throat right now, add you to the collection.” 

You chuckle darkly, shaking your head. “You won’t,” you say firmly. “You’ve never had someone quite as fun as me.” 

A low laughter escapes from the mask. “So, you are at least a bit smart?” His hand places on your thigh and you try to move away, but the chair screeches on the floor, and his hold only tightens. 

“Don’t play games now. Don’t fake it,” he groans, hand moving up on your blue jeans. “You enjoyed our last conversation,” he whispers, the mask close to your face, so close you can almost see his eyes behind the blackness of the two holes. “Had shivers run down your back when the phone rang in the middle of the night, haven’t you? You sat up straight in your big bed, all alone, and felt fear take over. Never answer unknown numbers. That’s what they say, that’s what you say, running around town, warning everyone about me,” he laughs deeply. “And then look at you, picking up that phone call, eager to hear my voice on the other side.” 

“You’re a psycho,” you spit out, struggling against the restrainers. But once again it is an act; he is a psycho, but you are starting to fear you aren’t much different. 

He chuckles darkly. “Oh, I am, never denied that. But don’t act better than me. You stood right in front of that window, stripping for me, touching yourself for me, moaning for me. How fucked up that is?” He snickers. “You have fucked up fantasies, my pretty detective, but I’m not one to judge. I’d gladly help.” 

You laugh quietly, trying to look confident but it comes out shaky from your throat, “If you want to help, take the mask off and show me who you are.” 

“Wow, wow, darling. Not so soon, I’m not one to burn stages in a relationship. What next? Want to meet my mom?” 

You inhale sharply, and spit on him, “God, you’re insane.” Your eyes snap open when he pulls out of his back the sharp knife, your breath is stuck in your throat and fear runs all over your body. And once again you regret how impulsive you are. You did well all these past years of training and then on the first real-life experiences at pushing this side of you in the cage, but it looks like it’s coming out like a beast that’s been trapped too long.  

“Don’t be so scared,” he huffs, the fake sympathy in his voice should make you mad but it triggers something else inside of you, and you hate to admit that he might be right, you’re enjoying this more than you should, you’re enjoying this entire chase more than you should. It’s like a game, but it’s not when real people are dying. “I would never hurt you,” his voice is raspy, slightly muffled by the ghost mask he’s wearing, and the knife sits on your sternum. “I hope you didn’t like this shirt too much, detective.” 

You don’t have time to react, the steel cuts your shirt neatly, the sound bouncing in the small room and the sharp tip brushing your skin. You shiver, gulping hard and closing your eyes, already feeling the sensation of it cutting through you, but it doesn’t happen. 

He clicks his tongue and shakes his head disappointingly. “You truly don’t trust me. I’m offended, and I don’t like when people offend me. Just like I don’t like when they hang up the phone while we’re playing. If people were respectful, I wouldn’t have to kill them, you know?” You stare at him with a furrow on your face, you’d like to take the mask off and see his eyes, not really to find out who’s hiding underneath that mask, but to see if his gaze is as insane as you imagine it to be. 

“Let me go,” you say, the skin of your wrist bruised from the pressure you’re applying against the ropes.

“Don’t struggle too much, it turns me on,” he warns, kneeling at your level. He smiles softly and thinks it’s a pity you can’t see it, you’re just so pretty, with your beautiful face filled with different emotions and your eyes looking at him with a gaze that wants to be threatening but it’s all the opposite, almost making you look like a lost puppy.  

“Why?” 

“Why? It’s funny to see the victim beg for their life, it makes you feel powerful, you could show mercy, but you don’t,” the smug smile on his hidden face can be heard in his voice and you shiver at how cold he sounds, the shrug of his shoulder is just the cherry on top to his unhinged behaviour. 

“So, you’re just going to keep me here?” 

“No, I want to play with you. Do you want to play a game, detective?” 

Your gaze falls on your thighs where his hand is placed again, the black gloves preventing it from leaving traces behind, as it slowly moves closer to your heat. 

You snicker, pretending to play it cool, but your breath twitches at the contact. “’Cause if I said no you would stop?” 

“Hey, I’m a killer, not a rapist,” he defends, shrugging. Yet, you still don’t reply, and he doesn’t like that. “So? I’m not so patient when I ask people if they want to play with me, so don’t test me.” 

You swallow hard, swiftly looking around to see if you can pull a move on him. Damnit, it’s your chance to get him and throw him in jail but instead, you’re seriously thinking about his proposal. You fool yourself that you’re only doing this because maybe he could slip, maybe he could say something in the heat of the moment that could give you a clue, or he could leave his traces on you somehow, maybe his mask could fall, but you know you’re feeling something else. Attraction. 

“I said,” he mutters, his face comes closer to yours, making you pull back, and the knife pushes flat in the hollow of your chest, “do you want to play a game, detective?” 

“Yes, yes, I do,” you mutter, starting to breathe again when he pulls the knife away. 

“Good, I love playing with you.” His fingers move to unbutton your jeans and then pull the zip down, you look at him attentively. “Lift your hips for me, love?”

You glare at him at the pet name but he only chuckles deeply. “What? If I’m rough with you, you get mad, if I’m sweet with you, you get mad. I can never win, can I?” 

You huff, deciding it’s better to not reply and just do as he says. Your pants are quickly at your ankles and suddenly you feel even more trapped than before now that you can’t even move your legs, but his touch on your naked skin takes you away from that thought. 

“Pretty panties just for me?” He coos, tilting his head to the side as he stares at your burgundy panties with the lace trim. “Were you hoping to find me here so we could finish what we started on the phone?” 

“Shut up, this is not for you,” you retort, your forehead creasing with a furrow. 

“And who is it for?” He asks, cupping your pussy, watching your body shiver. “Oh, no, please don’t tell me there’s a boyfriend I’m not aware of. I’d hate to kill him.” 

You bite your lips and keep the contact with the mask, but words struggle to come out when his index finger starts rubbing on your clit, moving from the slit —where you can feel you’re starting to get wet— to your sensitive nub. “It’s not for you,” you repeat, trying to don’t show how much his touch is affecting you. 

“Well, you want me to work so hard too, I’ll have to find out on my own if someone is playing with what’s mine,” he replays nonchalantly. “I know where to find you, maybe I’ll come visit again.” 

“You talk so much for someone who wants to play so badly,” you retort, a teasing grin curling your lips. 

“Sorry, I didn’t know my princess was so eager,” he replies, saccharine voice filled with mockery, before a harsh slap lands on your pussy making you jolt and whimper. “Want my fingers?”

The glare you give him would be enough to kill him; isn’t this pathetic enough? How much more does he want you to humiliate yourself? 

He rolls his head back and then the knife is against your neck again. “Do we have to do this every time I ask you a question? Do you want my fingers, detective?” 

“Yes,” you whisper. Your body relaxes momentarily before tensing up with excitement again, but it quickly shifts to disappointment. “What are you doing?” You ask when his covered fingers press against you again. 

“Oh, you’ll get the gloves too, I’m not dumb, you know? Don’t leave fingerprints on dead bodies, won’t even leave them on yours,” his voice is smug, all the confidence of someone who didn’t make a wrong move and somehow was always ahead of you and the police department. 

You hate him. You hate he’s so much better than you at this. And you hate him even more now that he has you fighting whimpers and moans. 

“Are you seriously going to pretend you don’t like this while your hips are bucking up?” He taunts, clicking his tongue in a mock. “Think moaning is more pathetic than humping my fingers like a bitch in heat?” 

Your mouth opens to retort but you can’t deny the evidence; your hips are rolling against his hand, chasing for more, your panties are darkening as your wetness leaks through the fabric and your chest is heaving in erratic motions.  

“Look at me,” he sings, hand moving up to graze your neck, thumb pressing on your carotid, making your head snap up. “You listen so swiftly when you fear for your life. It’s funny, you know, because I truly would never hurt you.” 

You chuckle, shaking your head, trying to pull away from his hold when his hand moves up to caress your jaw. The gentleness of his touch is even scarier than when he has his knife pointed against you. “Is this what turns you on? The fear in their eyes?” 

His head tilts to the side, shoulders lifting in a shrug. “Partially. But not in your case, what turns me on with you it’s the chase, and the fact I always win.” 

You scoff bitterly, struggling in his hold but his hand quickly grips your chin and pulls you closer. “Didn’t you see the movies? The villain always dies.” 

“If the heroine is not busy getting fucked by him,” he mocks, squeezing your face harder and moving his fingers faster on your clit. Your head rolls back and so do your eyes while a chocked moan leaves your lips. “See, I doubt you will shoot me in the head if you keep moaning like this.” 

You groan angrily, you’re madder at you than you are at him. You want him and it’s so wrong that you do, but there’s not even a siren ringing in your head, telling you to make this stop. 

“No, shh, shh, angel, it’s fine, this will be our little secret,” he whispers to your ear, the mask rubbing against your face, and when your eyes turn to look at him, you can see small dots of blood on the white varnish. “We could play another game: one secret for you, and one secret for me. If you behave, maybe I’ll reveal myself to you, if you promise to keep it to yourself.” 

Your teeth sink into your lips harder when he delivers another harsh slap on your clit before resuming his quick movements. “Just — just tell me if I know you,” you mumble. You know he will never reveal himself, but maybe you can get something more, anything to complete the missing pieces of the puzzle. 

He chuckles darkly, staring at a spot behind you as he pretends to think. “Mhh, we’ve met.”

You frown and your heart jumps in your throat for a moment at the thought you’ve seen him. “Only met?” 

“We talked,” he adds, finally letting go of your face, making you breathe normally again. 

Your eyes widen while your brain hurts as you try to quickly connect the dots, and find out who’s hiding underneath the mask, you just have to put a face on a voice — even if distorted, but you can’t. And suddenly realization slumps on you.

“Will it — will it break my heart?” 

He snickers under his breath as he looks into your sad eyes, you’re looking at him like a dog when it’s being scolded, but in this case, you’re also silently praying he’s not someone close to you. He has no idea why that would make you feel better, if you care more about Ghostface or whoever is hiding under the mask, but it doesn’t matter, and he mocks you again, mimicking you in a high-pitched voice. “Will it hurt if I was someone close to you? A colleague? A friend? A lover?” 

Your breath gets faster. Will it? Would you turn him in or defend him? And you can’t stand you’re even questioning it, of course you’ll turn him in, that’s your job, but most importantly, your duty. But will you? You could be doing it now, and you’re not. 

“See? It’s not as funny if you know me,” he laughs at your face, your thoughts so loud he could get a headache. “It’s not as exciting, you love the thrill of this too, more than you like to admit.” 

“Fuck,” you curse when his other hand cups your covered breast, it’s a harsh tug and the leather feels weird on your skin, yet, it makes you clasp your thighs and forget what was tormenting your morals, again. 

“They’re so perfect, I can’t believe you always keep them hidden under those ugly clothes,” he pouts, giving it another hard squeeze. “Sorry.”

“For what — what the fuck?” You scream when he cuts your bra with the knife, first the middle and then the straps, the matching burgundy bra falling in pieces on the bottom of the chair. 

“It was getting in the way, and I don’t like things that get in my way. I cut them off,” in his voice lingers a hysterical laugh that makes you shiver, and in times like this, you’re glad you can’t see his face.  

You gulp and automatically close your legs. 

“Not you,” he reassures you, forcing your thighs open again with a smack, “you entertain me. And you suck at your job, so it’s clear you also don’t get in the way.” 

“I’m good at my job and I will get you and put you behind bars —” 

“Uh, uh,” he clicks his tongue, knife under your jaw before you can even finish the sentence, silencing you in an instant. “We were having so much fun, don’t ruin it, babe.”

You swallow and look down following the path he’s tracing with the knife, goosebumps bloom on your skin and you hold your breath when it gets closer to your neck, only releasing it when the blade sits in the hollow of your chest. 

“It’s so funny how you shake like a leaf, I’m a professional,” he says, sounding almost offended. And you furrow, is he talking about the knife or his fingers? “Both, love.” 

Another groan leaves your lips before he moves the crotch to the side and the cold air of the room hits your burning core. You’ve never been so ashamed your entire life, you shouldn’t be an open book to him, you shouldn’t be so malleable in his hands, it’s pathetic and humiliating. 

“You’re so fucking wet. I’m quite pissed I can’t run to the police department and let them know how much I turn you on. I can already see the disappointment on their faces,” he taunts, the slick sound of his gloves against your dripping pussy burns your body in shame and excitement.  

“Don’t you dare,” you spit out, but you don’t sound so menacing since your voice breaks, and a pathetically high-pitched moan rolls from your tongue right after.  

“I said I’m not going to, I keep my promises,” he kneels to the ground, one hand keeping you spread more and the other is still busy taking care of you. “Maybe if you promise you won’t shoot or put me in handcuffs right away when you’ll find out who I am, I can eat you out. I bet you let out the prettiest moans when you have someone between your legs.” 

Your head rolls back, and you hiss. “You wish,” you retort through gritted teeth, but a part of you dies to know what that would be like. “I will never give you the satisfaction.” 

He laughs mockingly. “Maybe I should blindfold you and do it now, will you recognize me by that?” At those words your body tenses up, head standing straight again as you look down at him with terror in your eyes. “What?” He asks in a giggle, surprised by your reaction. “You’re fucking with me right now, I still have blood on me. Would that be the most problematic thing? Having fucked with me before? Without this mask?” 

“You’re just messing with me,” you mutter but your brain is trying to think, the list of the people you’ve been with is not that long, he can’t be so stupid to out himself like that, right? 

“Maybe… I love it when I can see you think,” he whispers. “Usually, you have your hands in your hair, pulling at it even if you just washed it or spent hours styling it, and then you nervously bite your right thumb, somehow there’s always a hangnail to pull until it bleeds, oh, and you also nervously walk back and forth, two steps forward, two steps back. It’s cute, really. You have no fucking clue how to stop this, but you look so into it, chasing after me… well, so you think because, let’s be honest, you’re only chasing after your tail.” 

You can’t believe he knows all of this, how close to you is he? And a few names start popping into your mind, but for each face that you see, your only answer is it can’t be. 

“Why are you surprised? I told you, I love watching you,” he says, voice scarily soft even through the distortion of the mask. “You’re very pretty, detective. When you work hard to catch me, and even more when you screw it all up to moan for me.” 

“Ugh,” you groan through gritted teeth, wrist rubbing against the rope keeping you in place and hips bucking up, anger and pleasure mixing like a drug in your brain. You hate to admit it, but you’re close and you doubt you can push back your climax any longer.  

“It’s alright, love, I told you, I won’t judge you,” he hums. He studies your face for a moment, admiring how your teeth trap your lips in the vain attempt to don’t truly show how much you’re enjoying this, but your eyes are filled with lust, lightly glassy, and your cum is painting his gloves white. “Now, will you come for me?” 

He doesn’t have to tell you twice, your body shutters as the orgasm washes over you, the quick movements of his fingers on your sensitive clit making your nails dig into the palm of your hands while your moans slip out of you freely. Your morality disappears, getting dragged away with the orgasm that consumes you before leaving. 

You forget where you are for a moment, or to be more precise, with who you are with, as you let your head roll back, close your eyes and take deep breaths, waiting for the high to pass. 

The thing doesn’t bother Ghostface, though, he sees enough fear in people’s eyes, he likes it better when you stop pretending and relax around him. That’s the thrilling thing about you, you are the most entertaining game he has ever played. With all the others he knows how it will end, their lifeless bodies laying in a pool of their own blood and the sirens of the police going off in the background as he blends in with the crowd, but with you? It’s unknown. Like a Russian roulette. 

He’d love to shred all your clothes off, but he knows you’d have to spill your guts (not literally) if you walk out of there completely naked, and he’s sure the version you would tell the police would add another crime to his name. So, he takes your shoes off and then pulls your pants down. 

Your laugh makes him raise his face and stare at you. “What’s so funny, dollface?” 

You shrug, wetting your lips. “You scare me more when you act all sweet, you know?” 

He scoffs, standing up again, and caressing your face. “You want me to hurt you so badly. I could carve a heart right here,” he presses the tip of the blade next to your heart, tracing the shape of a heart, causing goosebumps to appear on your skin. “It would look so pretty on you, and you will always carry me with you. Isn’t it nice? Couple goals.” 

You raise a brow at him, he doesn’t even realize it, but he’s giving away so much of his personality, even if you don’t find it out now, you’re pretty positive all of this is leading you somewhere. You shake your head quickly, trying not to show how hard you’re thinking about your plan. “I only want one thing from you, and you know what it is.” 

He chuckles, leaning next to your ear. “My dick.” 

“Oh, fuck off,” you curse, accidentally kicking him now that your legs are free to move. You suck your breath in, fearing your move, even if involuntary, might piss him off.  

He hisses but doesn’t do anything else. “Don’t get all bratty here, doll. You said you wanted to play a game, and we’re going to play it until the end.” 

When he cuts your panties and balls them in his fist, saying “keeping them as a souvenir,” with a grin that can be heard in his voice, you only reply with an “asshole.” 

Once again, he doesn’t pay your insults any mind, and you wonder why he’s so nice to you. Should you fear it? Will you be his last victim, getting the worst death of them all because he needs to put on a show? “Now I will untie you, if you play any trick on me… you know how it ends.” 

You nod quickly, watching him disappear from your view as he stands behind you. You inhale when the knife places against your neck again and roll your eyes back. “You don’t have to do this every time, you know?” 

“It turns you on,” he retorts firmly. “And I need to make sure you don’t do any funny business.” 

Your eyes roll back again but you try to relax anyway and keep still when your wrists are finally free. Your shoulders are in a more comfortable position again as you subtly roll them to ease up. “Get up,” he orders, and you follow, moving carefully because the blade is still close to your body and you don’t want to end up dead on the floor. “Good, now lay on the mattress.” 

Your face twists in disgust when you’re reminded of the mattress on the floor, but he pushes you forward. 

“We didn’t kill anybody there.” 

You stop, turning around swiftly, and his reflections are rapid enough that he doesn’t push the knife into your chest. “We?” 

���Oh… it didn’t click yet…” He laughs darkly at your expression, the whole world falling on your shoulders as you wonder how could you be so stupid to not realize it. “Sorry, love. But hey, aren’t you happy I helped you out?” 

You glare at him but then bring your hand to your hair and your thumb to your lips. Of course, there are two of them, that’s the only way they could always be so headed of you. 

“Not the right moment to think about that,” he warns, voice dropping lower, making you stop your nervous ticks. “Get on the bed.” 

You turn around again, suddenly aware that he’s completely covered and you’re bare. That thought makes you seek the cover of the mattress more, and swiftly you’re laying where he wants you. But it also turns you on, being so exposed to him while he’s giving you not even a peak of who’s under the mask and the clothes send chills down your body and more cum drips out you.

“Promise you’ll be good? We can play cat and mouse later if you want to,” he asks, the blade running flat on your boobs, making him chuckle darkly when your nipples harden at the contact and your hips buck up. “You promise, detective?” He repeats with urge when you don’t reply, too busy watching the knife move on your body as he pins you down. 

“Promise,” you reply, looking into the blackness of the eyes of the mask. 

He chuckles under the mask, and you watch him unbuckle his pants. You could easily grab the weapon that’s on your stomach and stab him, you could even un-mask him, but you lay still, almost mesmerized. And the conscience inside of you likes to remind you how fucked up you and your morals are, but you brush it off, shaking your head quickly. 

“Turn around,” he orders, but you hesitate. That’s too much vulnerability. It’s clear he doesn’t like your hesitation when he groans, grabbing the knife and pushing it aside. “God, I have to do everything with you,” he sighs as he forcefully flips you on your stomach before his legs trap you again. This time you can’t do anything even if you want to, but once again, you don’t want to. 

“Fuck,” he moans, hands cupping your full ass and squeezing hard, the firm hold eliciting a moan from you. “Look at you, so fucking pretty. Keep your head down, don’t try to even get a peak,” he warns, and your immediate reaction is to turn around to understand what’s going on, but you know better, so you press your face into the pillow and only when you hear the loud sound of a spit and a glob of saliva drip between your folds you understand what happened. “Not that it was needed, you’re dripping. But you know, I like to get messy at times.” 

You turn your face around, resting your head on the pillow, and bite your lips. The smugness and insanity of his voice causing more cum to ooze out of your pussy.  

“I want to feel you so bad,” he hums, spreading your cunt, making you feel so exposed, “but will you run to the police? Will you tell them ‘oh no, I had to fuck Mr. Ghostface to have a bit of his DNA and save the town from this psycho’?” he mocks with a high-pitched voice, it doesn’t sound like you at all, more like a hopeless, brain-dead, blonde girl that dies within the first minutes of any horror movie. 

You snicker. “You underestimate me, I could say I got those traces from somewhere else.” 

“But will you? Also, I’m pretty sure they will find traces of you too. How humiliating would that be? Come on, honey, I won’t blackmail you, but you will screw yourself over? That’s not very smart of you.” 

He’s right, you hate that he’s right. You will have to out yourself in the process of trying to turn him in. “I — I won’t.” 

Deep down he knows you won’t, there’s no way they won’t trace it back at you too, and he also knows you won’t try to play the victim when you’re not, but he needs to be conscious, one wrong step and you could turn the game around. As much as he likes to mock you, he knows you’re smart and have been close to discovering them a few times, it was a matter of luck, and they were extremely lucky. 

“Better safe than in jail,” he chuckles darkly, you don’t even try to peer around, and only listen to the plastic of the condom rip. 

You whimper when you feel the tip against your slit, and you hide your face in the pillow as if that could change the reality of what you’re willingly doing. You’re too excited to be so ashamed of your actions, but, even if some may argue your morality is nowhere to be found, it still feels like a big balloon hovering over you. 

You shiver when you feel the mask rest on your shoulder, “Nah, ah, angel, no being ashamed now. I told you I don’t like rude people, so don’t be rude and ask me nicely to fuck you.” 

The urge to slap him is stronger than anything else, but once again your greed makes him win. “Please… please fuck me.”

“Not what I want to hear, you know what I want. We practiced the other night, haven’t we?” He reminds you, a hand creeping around your neck, holding tight enough to make buzzes of fear run through your bones. 

You close your eyes, inhaling as deeply as you can while trying to find the courage to humiliate yourself one last time, but then the words slip out, “Please, fuck me, Ghostface,” and the air gets knocked out of your lungs when he pushes into you. It’s a strong, deep thrust that fills you to the brim and knocks you over. Your head falls against the pillow again while his loud groan fills your ears, “Fuck, it sounds so good from your lips.” 

“Oh, fuck,” you curse through gritted teeth when he starts moving right away, barely giving you time to adjust to the feeling, thick dick grazing your insides and strong hands wrapping around your waist tightly. 

“Is it too much for you, detective? My sweet little angel can’t take it?” 

A groan slips past your lips, you try to stand up on your elbows, but he pushes you down. His body presses against your back and you feel trapped again. “Don’t move. I will fuck you so deep into this mattress that I will feel your scent for days after this. I want your face smashed against the pillow, I want it to be wet with your ruined makeup and tears, got it? ” 

You nod quickly, shoulders dropping as you slump against the mattress. His breathing next to your ear makes you shiver, and you wonder if that’s the last thing the non-so-lucky people have met him heard before dying. But you push it away, for the sake of your sanity, you have to fool yourself that you’re not so attracted to a bloody murderer, that your morals are still intact, and that you are a good person. 

It’s pathetic how all the anger you feel disappears with each calculated thrust, pleasure getting to your brain so quickly you stop holding back. Soft whimpers and moans roll out of your tongue and unconsciously your ass grinds back into him.  

“Fuck, that’s what I want to hear,” he hums, standing up while his hands wrap around your waist. He never wanted to burn those gloves so badly, feeling the urge to feel your burning skin and mark you with his bare hands, but he can’t risk it. That doesn’t mean he can’t leave marks in other ways. One hand leaves your hips and cups your boob, eliciting a broken moan from you. “Have I told you they’re so pretty?” 

“Mhh,” you mumble, eyes closing as he pinches down on your nipple. You wish you could say it hurt you but instead, it makes you clench hard around him, cum leaking out more with each pinch on your delicate, sensitive buds. 

“Shit, you really are into pain,” he comments, there’s mockery in his voice —like always— but there’s also a genuine surprise. “Who would’ve thought, my innocent detective is way more fucked in the head than I thought.” 

“I — I’m not,” you retort, groaning and forcing your eyes open, but the deep chuckle that rumbles in his chest makes you quiver, and your attitude drops in a moment. 

“Honey,” he slurs, voice dipped in honey, “you’re letting Ghostface fuck you dumb, you are fucked in the head.” 

You shake your head quickly, but he’s had enough of your lies. The rough tug at your hair makes you let out a choked gasp as your head is lifted from the pillow. “I know you better than anyone else, angel,” he groans, mask pressed against your hot face. “I know your dirty, little secrets. I know what runs into that dirty, little mind of yours. You can’t lie to me,” he almost purrs, a low chuckle making shame fire up inside of you, “and I can feel you, princess. Squeezing me, barely allowing me to pull out to fuck back into you. Fuck — I should feel you right now, no stupid rubber between us.” 

Another broken moan slips from your lips when he roughly lets go of the hold on you, your fingers clench hard around the thin sheet under you, and your hips jerk up even more. It’s like you want to feel him more, to have him imprint himself deep into you, so far under your skin that you won’t be able to wash him off, and you don’t even know why you feel like this. Why it made you feel like this a week prior too, all the hesitation and fear as you picked up the phone and heard his breathy, distorted voice, flying out of the window the moment he started ordering you around. But was it truly an order when your only hesitation came from the fear of judgement, and you could only feel your body tingle with excitement? Sitting in front of the window, having no idea where he was hiding, putting on a show for the killer you swore you hated and making yourself come the hardest you’ve ever done. 

“It makes you feel special, doesn’t it? The way you’re the only exception. The only one I would never hurt.” His voice is lower, hitting you to the core, making your toes curl and your breath falter in your chest. “You’re like a daisy in a garden of bloody, red roses.” 

“Please,” you breathe out, choking on your tongue, eyes fluttering open shyly. 

“Want me to stop?” He coos, head cocking to the side as he lands a sharp slap on your asscheek that makes you hiccup on a whimper and then another to your boob that drags a louder cry out of you. “Don’t want to hear how special you are?” 

But that’s not what you meant. Your pleads were about something else, something you struggle to confess. 

A deep laugh resonates in his chest as he looks down at your already wrecked face. You’re so precious, he can’t believe you sometimes think he could hurt you. His prettiest game, his wildest fantasy. The thrill he feels in his bones every time he’s close to you, so, so near to being discovered and yet always safe. It’s exciting, getting to his brain so much he can hardly hide how much it turns him on. But you’ve never been this close before. He dreamed about fucking you, having you pressed under him, begging, moaning and crying as his dick hit deep into your sweet pussy, pounding into you over and over again until you were nothing but mush in his hands. He wanted to strip you down completely and leave nothing of the women he sees and admires every single day. He dreamed of having all this power over you, watching you get weak on your knees and let him do anything he wanted, watching your body convulse in pleasure and your brain empty. And here you are now; wet, fucked-out eyes looking up at him while your pretty, plump mouth opens and closes as your shut-down brain tries hard to find the words. 

“Speak up, princess. I don’t like to wait.” 

“Please, wa-want to feel you,” you slur in a whisper, eyes blinking lazily as you try to hold onto what’s left of your sanity. 

He chuckles, his thrusts coming to a stop that makes you whine in disappointment. “You want me to fuck you raw, detective?” 

You hum, nodding slowly, not for the lack of enthusiasm but for the amount of shame that’s looming over you like a tornado. But Ghostface doesn’t like your silences, he doesn’t like it when you hesitate, that’s not what turns him on about you. It’s your impulses, the way you jump into things headfirst without thinking, for some it may be dumb, but to him, it’s just that sprinkle of insane bravery that makes life exciting. Your head is yanked up again with a rough pull of your hair, but his hold quickly moves to your neck. “I thought we were over the phase where I have to drag the words out of your mouth, detective. I’ll ask nicely one last time, do you want me to fuck you raw?” 

You swallow your pride and reply meekly, “Ye-yes.” 

He chuckles, pulling out of you almost completely before sinking in again with no warning, knocking the air out of your lungs, air that’s already struggling to fill them as his hold on your neck doesn’t loosen up. “See? It wasn’t that hard, was it? Even your stupid brain could put two words together.” 

You gasp for air when he finally lets go and your face sinks on the pillow again. 

“I’d love to, but I won’t risk it. Maybe next time, maybe if I’ll ever feel like telling you who I am,” he replies, and you groan in disappointment. Not only he doesn’t give you what you want but he also mocks you, reminding you why you’re here and how your mission flushed down the toilet as you let him play you like a violin. 

“Then — fuck — please, fuck me harder,” at this point you want him to fuck you so hard your brain will just unplug and your superego can stop nagging at the back of your mind. You don’t want a single thought in your brain, just pleasure and lust. 

“That I can give it to you,” he hums happily, and in a second, he complies. His hips start snapping against you at a fast speed, his tip hitting you deep repeatedly as he keeps you arched back with one hand around your waist and the other one wrapped around the makeshift ponytail he made with your hair. 

You can already feel the orgasm build up at the tip of your stomach, but it only worsens when Ghostface roughly pulls you flat against him. Your head falls behind on his shoulder, eyes rolled far in your skull as your lips hang open to let out desperate moans and suck in as much air as possible. 

“You’re so fucking pretty like this,” he moans, his thumb rubs against your neck and jaw while his right hand squeezes and pulls your boobs hard before pinching the nipples. “Listen to those pretty sounds you make,” he snickers, “and you still want to pretend you’re innocent and pure? You’re fucked up just like me, baby, that’s why I like you so much,” he slurs. 

You blink, once again adjusting to the light is uncomfortable but you make out just in time the fact he’s holding a Polaroid camera. “Smile for the camera, babe,” his voice rings in your ears but doesn’t reach your brain and before you know it, you’re coming just like that. The look on your face is not a smile but an expression of blissed pleasure, the exact moment as the climax explodes inside of you, making you clench around his dick and shake in his arms, your arm twisting back, letting your hand claps on his bicep and sink your nail in the thick fabric of the black cloak.  

Ghostface would like to say he’s disappointed and scold you for misbehaving, but he can only stare at you with amused disbelief written all over his face. But you only see the constant expression of the mask and once again, you fear for a second he’s mad at you. Truth be told, he could even kill you right now, you wouldn’t mind much or even notice, too lost in the pleasure that’s still looming on your body. 

“Fuck,” he mutters, hips slowing down until they stop completely, “you just gifted me the most precious pic in my collection,” he whispers. You feel like the edge of mockery is still persistent but at the same time something genuine lingers in it, it doesn’t make it less creepy, but the ‘fuck me harder method’ worked because you don’t question his, and yours, fucked morality and just smile dumbly. 

And that smile, united with the slow bat of your wet eyelashes, is what he needs to lose it. 

“Oh, fuck it, I’ll clean you up once we’re done and if you’ll try to turn me in, I’ll find out, so you better keep your promise, alright?” 

You don’t get what he’s talking about right away, too fucked out as you lay on the mattress waiting for his next move, but when he pulls out of you and swiftly pulls the condom out, you get it. You bite your lips in anticipation and swing your hips in invitation. 

The sight would be enough to make him come right there, and he damns himself because out of all people, you can’t be his biggest weakness. It got to be some fucking joke of destiny. “Will you go to the police?” 

“No,” you mumble.  

“Good girl, because these little games are just for us, me and you, you can’t use what we do here to help you with your case.” When he sinks inside of you again, he feels like he could lose it all for the way your wet, warm walls wrap around him. “Fuck, fuck,” he curses, voice even more distorted now that he murmurs through gritted teeth, “you feel so fucking good.” 

His thrusts now are almost primal, desperately pounding you against the mattress, keeping you pinned down with a hand on the back of your head —not that you need that, you wouldn’t be able to hold your neck up even if you wanted to— and holding for dear life on your hips with the other. You’ll probably have some bruises by the end of the night, if not colored prints on your skin, surely light discomfort at the touch will follow you for a few days. And you almost want to beg him for more, to mark you in some other ways, to leave something just for you to see and carry with you. Sick and perverted thoughts cross your mind, and you push them away swiftly. 

You bite down on your lips when his hand leaves your side to torture your nipples again, he can barely push his hand between your body and the mattress, but he has just enough space to play with your sensitive nipples, making them even harder and causing you to clench even more around him. He loves how sensitive you are there and how each rub, pinch, and slap has you easily squirming and moaning under him.

“Look at you, going all dumb on my cock,” he groans, mockingly giving one harsh slap to your tits before his fingers trace your cheek. Your skin is so hot he can almost feel it through the fabric separating you, but what he’s most fascinated about are your tears, black mascara running down your beautiful face, dying on the pillow and your tortured parted lips. “Are you still thinking about being better than me or — fuck — have you finally embraced your dark side?” 

Not a word comes out of your mouth when you whimper back, and not even a thought crosses your mind. 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he grins smugly. “You know,” he breathes out, head thrown back as it gets harder and harder to contain the orgasm, but he doesn’t want it to end so soon, “you should fire yourself and be my toy, just my toy, every time I need you, everywhere I need you. You’d love that, wouldn’t you? It’d make you feel even more special.” 

You mumble a weak reply, it’s a whispered ‘no,’ but your body doesn’t deny how much the thought turns you on. Too many responsibilities in your life and your job, too much to carry daily, but right now? Nothing. Guilt will eat you alive tomorrow but not now. Something feels exciting about being on the run with him, being the one that runs, instead of the one that chases. But it won’t happen, you believe in your job, and you want this slasher to end.  

“Cause only I can get you like this, ugh,” he grunts, hips slamming faster but more sloppily against your ass, the vulgar sounds filling up the room. “No man before and no man after will make you come this hard. Nobody, love. No matter how much you’ll want to, they all will disappoint you and you will look for me in every single one of them,” he groans, each word punctuated by a harsh slam of his hips, “well, the lucky ones that will get a taste before I’ll get them and kill them.” 

You don’t reply, just lay there, looking like a mess as you try to fight another orgasm because coming again would be humiliating. 

“It turns you on, doesn’t it?” You can hear the grin on his face and his voice has the edge of insanity of the usual. “Let’s be honest, you’ve got a list of shitty partners, you would’ve been grateful if I got rid of some of them.” 

“Fuck, just — just fuck me,” you beg, your hand reaching behind to touch him somehow, but he doesn’t like it. 

He grips your hand and pins it behind your back bending your arm, you hiss in discomfort, but he doesn’t let go. “Oh, no, angel. You don’t make the rules in this game, I do. If I want to sink into your brain and get so deep into you that I’ll make sure you will never come out the same, I will. I’m the darkest side of yourself, the fucked up filth you’re too afraid to face,” he groans. “And I know you’re close again. Your tight cunt is squeezing me, and you made a mess on the mattress,” he snickers. “Imagine if they find this place, this mattress, your DNA on it,” he stops, leaning next to your ear, voice dropping lower, “or better, imagine if they find us now. What do you say, detective? Would they be disappointed? Would they just jack off at the view? You look so hot right now, I wouldn’t blame them if they’d get off to you, to us together. Kill them surely, blame them not. We’re so hot, detective.” 

You squirm under him, feeling like the room is spinning fast and you can’t ground on anything. You have a darker thought in mind, something you can’t confess to him or else he won’t stop mocking you. You want to get caught, but not by your colleagues, by his partner. What would he do if he saw you and his partner in crimes like this? Would he understand this, or would he snap? Maybe even feeling betrayed. Does he even know you and him have been playing this game of attraction for a while now?  

Your silence doesn’t make Ghostface suspect anything. You simply look totally fucked out, brain empty as you plead in soft whimpers and moans. 

“You sound so fucking good,” he praises. “Why don’t we play another little game, uh?” 

Your eyes open in surprise and you hum with no strength, “what?” 

“Beg me to save your life,” he says, grabbing the knife again and placing it close to your neck. “Come on, do it for me, I won’t ever hear you say it because I will never want to kill you. Please, detective,” he coos, hips slowing down because your pussy is fogging his brain and he’s not sure his always-perfect aim and reflexes will work right now. 

You take a deep breath and then speak. “Please, Ghostface, please, spare my life.” 

His head rolls back, and a deep, groggy moan comes out of his lips. “Fuck, yes, keep going,” he orders, hips picking up the rhythm again as he skillfully flips the blade to the lesser sharp side just to be safe. 

And you obey. You beg, choked-up words slipping from your lips that soon turn into please, fuck me harder, and then please, wanna come. You feel boneless, your body is too hot, and you feel you might pass out, you need a release and then hope something bigger than you will make you get back on your legs and walk out of there as if nothing happened, as if you never followed your guts and found his —their— safe haven. 

“Come for me, love,” he orders, throwing the knife to the side before his hand sneaks under your body to roughly slap your clit a few times, enjoying the louder moans he drags out of you by doing so and watching with pleasure as your body squirms and shakes. “And don’t forget to smile for the camera.” 

This time your eyes lock with the polaroid that he points toward your face as his chin rests on your shoulder. But it only lasts for the time of the picture, your body collapses again when he lets go of your hair and you let the pleasure pervade you from head to toe. It’s breathtaking and mind-blowing, and next time you’ll fuck someone else you’ll hate that he’s right. You will feel him everywhere, you will feel his dick deep inside of you every time your fingers will desperately try to take its place, and every time you’ll let someone in your bed, but you don’t hate that thought as you should. 

“Fuck,” he groans, giving you a few more pumps to make sure you rode your high before slipping out and then roughly flipping you over. “Close your eyes,” he orders, and you follow with no hesitation —honestly, you were struggling to keep them open in the first place. 

Your heaving chest, your parted lips still letting out cries, your wet cheeks, and your trembling closed thighs are the last drop he needs to let go. Deep moans reach your ears while his hot cum drops on your face, most on your skin but some in your mouth, and they get even louder when you shyly swallow it and lick your lips for more. 

“Fuck, fuck, you’re —” he gasps but doesn’t finish, holding onto nothing as he empties himself all over your face. “Fuck.”

He feels dizzy, the orgasm still shaking him up, but then he looks at you and has to bite back a moan. The white strings of cum are covering your blissed face, your eyelashes are clumped together by the tears, and your lips are plump and darker, he knows he doesn’t want to forget what you look like right now. “Smile one last time, baby.” 

And you do, the corners of your mouth lift and then you hear the click of the polaroid. You think for a second you should’ve told him to don’t take them, he could easily blackmail you, or straight-up get you fired, but once again, you don’t truly care, and you don’t deny how much the idea of those photos turned you on.

You should get up, grab your pants, jacket, shoes and leave. But you feel heavy and tired, you’re still shaking, and your breath didn’t go back to normal, yet. 

“Don’t worry, detective,” Ghostface whispers, something passes on your face to clean you from the mess, but you don’t know what, and only then you open them ajar, just to see he’s still wearing his mask. “I’ll take care of you.” 

The Ghostface mask is the last thing you see. 

When you wake up, you’re in your bed, wearing your nightwear, completely cleaned up, but your bones and muscles are still sore, and a terrible headache is throbbing in the left side of your brain. You turn around, rubbing your eyelids with your palms before you can fully focus on the pillow and see three things on it. The Ghostface mask, a polaroid of you two from before, his face next to yours as he pulled your hair, and a note. 

“It was a pleasure playing with you, my pretty detective. Can’t wait to see what our next game will be like♡ ” 

general taglist: @froggyforyoongi , @wingsss45 ; @tddyhyck ; @technologyculturedneo

© neowinestaindress; all rights reserved. do NOT repost, modify, or translate any work from this blog on any other platform and claim it as yours. you can find my works on ao3 (neowinestaindress) and wattpad (winestaintedress_; currently inactive).

[00-jammy-00]

Hii jammy!! Dunno if You could do hcs of a yandere! Lovesick! Detective?

Bonus points if he is plainly intimidating, like scary dog privilages of smth, and has already planned to kidnap the reader, also he is strong and buff and hell

Bye bye pooks! <3

Oh and also, can I be 😾 anon?

Yan!Detective HC’s

Yan!Detective x GN! Reader

Content warning - Yandere themes, obsession, murder, isolation, gaslighting, nsfw mentions

——————————————————————————————————

Yan!Detective who was assigned to help you for his new case. Your house was broken into? They only took your valuables and didn’t even touch you?? What a wasted opportunity.

Yan!Detective who promises you he’ll find your robber, using the pad of his thumb to brush away those pretty tears. His coworkers sit behind you both with a shocked look on their faces. Last time someone cried in front of him, he had rolled his eyes and scoffed.

Yan!Detective who starts to get to know you, this is a simple case, the robber was clumsy and left his fingerprints everywhere but he can’t let you go so soon.

Yan!Detective who offers to let you stay with him until he catches the thief. You’re not bothering him, don’t worry. He offers to sleep on the couch, desperate for you to sleep in his bed so when you’re gone he can hump the pillows but you offer him something even better.

Yan!Detective whose jaw physically drops when you offer to just sleep in the same bed as him and just stick to each other’s side. He knows what you’re doing, he can see the little blush on your face you naughty thing.

Yan!Detective who holds you tight when you get closer, burying his nose in your hair, inhaling the scent of your shampoo, just the smell had his cock aching.

Yan!Detective who has already killed your robber yet he still pretends to work the case, just so he can see you in his kitchen, in his shirt, sipping coffee from one of his coffee mugs. He doesn’t care if you’re a guy or not, he’s going to make you his pretty little housewife.

Yan!Detective who started isolating you from everyone after he finally closed the case, pretending to get in a brawl with the robber. Who’s that? Your friend? No she’s not? What if she was working with that thief?

Yan!Detective who doesn’t feel a single bit of guilt, not for isolating you, not for practically keeping you locked in his house and especially not for fucking you into the mattress. He’s gentle, sometimes, he knows you prefer it rough anyway.

Yan!Detective who refuses to buy you clothes, you can wear his clothes, no underwear though, it only gets in the way, especially when you’re in the kitchen and he’s got you bent over the counter where you had been doing the dishes. Fuck, you’re just the perfect housewife for him aren’t you? ——————————————————————————————————

Likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated, requests are open <3

please do not copy, repost or translate any of my works on other platforms without my permission.

[ctrlsht]

Fragment of the Past 03

pairing: patient!jungkook x psychiatrist!reader genre: thriller & yandere au

summary: You are a well-known and respected psychiatrist and author. You start treating Jungkook, who suffers from PTSD after surviving an extremely traumatic incident. As you help him confront his traumatic past, he begins to act strangely, and you start uncovering something about him that will change everything.

chapter summary: You thought that you could finally escape from Jungkook but little did you know that he has something more to hold against you. You endure everything that he did to you but he was too much until you can no longer take him anymore.

chapter warnings: hazing, fraternity, blackmailing, manipulation, smut, non con/dub con, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), mc was traumatized, stalking, murder, major character death word count: 11.3K

parts: (1) | (2) | (3)

note: This fiction will contain multiple mental disorders and psychology facts. I conducted my own research to avoid spreading misinformation, but there may be aspects I've overlooked, so I am open for any corrections.

"Why are you here? Aren't you aware of the restraining order?" You threw your pen on the table and stood up from your seat, while a sinister smile curled his lips. He continued to take a step towards you and you immediately pushed the buttons that connected to the reception desk. He only laughed before he spoke.

“It’s 9 in the evening, Y/N. No one’s here except for the both of us.” His words send shivers down your spine.

He was right, Soyeon and your other colleagues went home 3 hours ago and you’re the only one left inside. 

You love to overwork but right now, you wish that you just continue working at home. 

He’s going to kill you before the night ends. You’re sure of it. 

You reach your phone with a shaking hand as you scroll to your contact list and click Detective Jung’s number. 

“Who are you going to call? Detective Jung?” His words were like whispers from the depths of darkness.

Detective Jung isn’t answering your calls. 

“You’d be arrested once you come near me.” You tried to threaten him, but it only sounded like a joke to him.

He took a seat in his usual position as he intertwined both of his hands.

“I commend you for your cleverness when you ask for a restraining order against me,” He crosses his legs and touches his lips. “Unfortunately for you, it won’t stop me from attending our sessions."

“It’s my first time attending an evening session, is it also your first time, Dr. Y/N?” He said with a malevolent grin stretched across his lips.

“I swear, before the sun rises tomorrow, you’d be arrested.” You spoke, clenching your jaw. 

“With how fast you climb to the top, I thought you were smart, Y/N. But I was wrong.” He pokes the inside of his cheek as he smirks. “You should know by now the reason why I’m not in jail for killing my mother.” 

You weren’t able to respond, like a cat caught your mouth. 

“I thought that you’ll do great in kicking me out of your life so I came prepared. I even thought that you’d approach a different detective for this one, and fortunately, you still decide to approach Detective Jung.” He pauses to let out his laughs. “Don’t you know that he was the reason why I’m still free? He’s my best friend, Y/N!” A sinister laugh erupted from his throat as your body started to shake. 

“I even came up with a plan with my lawyer if ever I was arrested but damn Y/N, I somehow wish that you give me a thrill. You made my life easier than I expected.”

As he said those words, your legs turned to jelly, and a tightness gripped your chest. 

You’ve underestimated him and his power and now, your life's on the line. 

“Go ahead and ruin my reputation. Upload those recordings online, I don’t care anymore. I can’t stomach you anymore, Jungkook.” You spoke in a serious tone, before fixing your things.

“Are you sure about that?” He asked, a smile evident in his voice.

“If you think you need to use those recordings to destroy me, feel free to do so. I won't participate in this any longer. I refuse to be a part of your games, Jungkook.” 

“Oh, Y/N.” He sighs before he continues. “If you think that this is all about you, you’re wrong.” He stood up and took out his phone from his pocket. You’re about to go but he thrust his phone in your chest. “Watch it because you’d love to see what kind of a person your best friend really is.” He smirks and you look at his phone. It was a video and you were scared to play it. The thumbnail is Taehyung standing in front of a man with their eyes blindfolded. Taehyung looks so young in here and you aren’t sure what’s happening. One way to find out. 

You wish you didn’t take his phone. You wish that you just proceed on walking out of your clinic, leaving him inside because when you play the video, you immediately hear a painful scream coming from a man. It wasn’t Taehyung who’s screaming, instead, a man was kneeling and bleeding while his eyes were blindfolded, and Taehyung was hitting him with a baseball bat.

Holy shit. 

Taehyung looks so young in the video. His hair was blonde, it’s his hair when he was 17 or 18, as you remember. You can’t believe what you saw. The man that he’s hitting is begging for him to stop but he doesn't. Instead, he hit him harder. 

Your hands were trembling, almost dropping the phone as you stopped the video from playing. 

What was that?

“Why do you look so scared, Y/N? It’s your best friend.” Jungkook slowly took the phone from your hand. 

Your body trembled uncontrollably, fear had taken hold of your very core. You looked at him, shaking your head.

“That’s not Taehyung.” You said.

“Oh Y/N, I wish you’re right, but it was him.” He chuckled. He takes a few steps back and places his right hand on his pocket as he scrolls to find something on his phone. 

When he finds it, he shows his phone once again. You were confused because it’s a group of male people and when he noticed your confusion, he zoomed the screen and you saw Taehyung in the photo.

“He’s part of underground society way back before he was an artist and that's when I knew him, Y/N. He was one of the people who performed the initiation rites for the new members, and that video you just saw? It’s what he does for the society he’s in.”

You can’t believe it, you refuse to believe it. Taehyung won’t do that. He won’t harm—

“Why do you look so shocked?” He asked with a grin on his face, mocking you. “You should know that, as his best friend.” 

“That’s not him.” You said, trying more to convince yourself. “Taehyung can’t do that. He won't take part in that kind of behavior.”

“Then you don’t really know your friend.” He placed his phone back in his pocket. “Stop being too naive, Y/N. Everyone has their own secrets to keep.” 

“Do you really think that I would believe you? Whatever shit you’re trying to pull, you won’t make me believe you.” You said in your sharp tone.

“But the people will.” He took a step towards you with a smirk on his lips. 

“You may refuse to believe it but the people will. They will believe so easily in whatever’s happening in that video.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat resonating with the intensity of the madness you feel. You never felt this kind of anger before. It’s too much that you wanted to kill him.

“What do you want?! What do you really want!” Your rage erupted like a blazing fire, smacking his chest aggressively. You keep on smacking and pushing him, while he doesn't even show any hint of pain. “Why are you doing this to me!” you shouted, tears welling up in your eyes and when you got tired, your hits became slower until you decided to stop. 

Jungkook held your wrist and looked at your eyes with intensity. You cannot resist him anymore because you’re too tired. 

“What do I want?” He repeated the question while staring at your eyes. “It’s simpler than you think.” His words were soft as a smile formed on his mouth. “I want you, Y/N.” 

You sob before you release your wrist from his grip. “I can’t have another session with you. You’re not cooperating.” You respond, letting out a weary sigh.

“That’s not what I mean.” He shook his head, slowly scanning your face down to your body. “I want you without your clothes, laying down while I am on top of you.”

You immediately shook your head. “No fucking way. I won’t let you do that.” 

“Then you agreed to let me upload your illegal voice recordings with your patients along with the video of your best friend, beating the hell out of an innocent man. I bet the people will love to see what their idol really is, right?”

You’re already bursting out of tears, shaking your head. “Please don’t involve him anymore.” 

“It’s your own fault, Y/N. The only thing that I want is a session with you until I recover, yet you pushed my limits. Now, you have to face the consequences of your actions.” He takes a step towards you, leaning forward to see your face full of tears and wipe them using the both of his finger thumb. You hit his arms and took a step backwards.

“You’re sick.” You turn around to gather your things and when you’re about to leave, he speaks.

“I’m telling you, you don’t want to test me because you wouldn’t like the ending.”

—

That same night, you didn't go home; instead, you went straight to Taehyung's place. He wasn't there because he had a shoot, but you waited. You couldn't wait any longer. You couldn't bring yourself to believe what you had seen unless it came directly from him. You've known Taehyung since birth, and you were certain that the videos and photos you had just seen couldn't be him because you knew he wouldn't do such things.

Yet you don’t understand why you felt betrayed even though you haven’t talked to him.

 When he arrived, that’s the first thing you ask him and it’s too obvious that he didn’t anticipate it. As the longer he can’t respond, the ache you feel worsens.

“Answer me, Kim Taehyung. Are you a member of an underground society?” You repeat the question, emphasizing every word.

“Where did—

“Just answer me!”

Taehyung was taken aback with your screams and a fear is evident in his face. He stood there frozen, unable to move or look away. He sighs before he speaks.

“Yes.”

Your body hunched, eyes closed as a tear streamed down your face. You lowered your body, squatted and your shoulders shook with each shuddering sobs.

“Y/N, w-why?” Taehyung immediately went to you but when his hand landed on your shoulder, you stood up, immediately pushing him away.

“You beat people, Taehyung! You beat them to death, you monster!” 

“Y/N, please let me explain—

“Explain what?! How the fuck you beat them until they die?!”

“It’s not my choice! They were threatening to kill me if I didn’t do what they wanted!”

You glared at him, choosing not to respond. 

“I thought it was a normal organization when I joined but I was tricked! I tried to leave but they didn’t let me and they even threatened to kill me if I reported them to the police! I was just 17 years old at that time, Y/N! I didn’t know what to do!” 

He was trembling as a tear formed in his eyes. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“Because I was scared that they would involve you. It’s a trap.”

“So you were still involved with them?” Your voice raised and he immediately shook his head.

“No! I managed to get away when we were caught doing the initiation rite, but I managed to run away without being caught. I wasn’t the one performing the initiation rite during that time so it was easy for me to run away.” He explained.

You only stare at him, imagining the 17-year-old Taehyung standing in front of you. During that time, you don't remember anything that may hint he was in danger. The only Taehyung you saw was the jolly and energetic Taehyung, not knowing that he was facing a dangerous situation.

Little did you know that 12 years from now, you’d also face the same situation like he does.

You took a step towards him and wrapped your arms around him, sobbing uncontrollably. You can’t imagine he faced that problem all by himself at that age. You were supposed to be with him as he faced his battles, but he was all alone. 

“Why didn’t you tell me even after you managed to run away?” You spoke, choked sobs wracked your body as he stroked your back gently. 

“It’s okay, it’s all in the past.”

You were in that position for a few moments until you calmed down. You break away from him and wipe your own tears. 

“How did you find out?” with that, you’re back from reality, the reason why you are here. 

“I saw a video of you beating a man. That’s how I found out.” His mouth hung open as his breath came in short.

“Where did you watch it?”

"An anonymous sender sent me the video. I couldn't bring myself to save the video because I can't bear to watch it again, so I deleted it," You reason out. You can’t tell him the truth because it will only complicate things more. “But I already reported it to the authorities and a security specialist and they guarantee that the person responsible for it will be caught.”

You felt bad for lying but you can’t tell him the truth. It wasn’t a good idea to confront him about this manner in the first place but you were not in your right mind when you decided to go here. You were caught off-guards. 

You just need to make sure that no one will see that video again. How? That’s also something you don’t know yet. 

—

Jungkook hasn’t bothered you lately, and it only worsens your anxiety. You know him and he won’t simply stop. You don’t know what’s his next move but soon, he’ll come after you. 

You always check what’s trending on social media, watching out for any news that can relate to you and Taehyung, but you’ve always found nothing. You even checked on Jungkook’s latest activities on their media pages and there’s nothing suspicious, yet you can still feel the lash that Jungkook tied on your neck.

You’re on your way for a book interview because your newest book entitled ‘The Paradox of Choice’ is about the launch. You’re nervous and you’re overthinking everything without a specific reason why. 

The feeling you felt right now is different from your previous book launching because right now, you don’t feel good. 

Maybe because you've been stressing lately with what’s happening right now or maybe because something is going to happen.

You wish it wasn’t the latter. 

“Three more minutes!” The crew announced.

This book launch is coming along with an interview at an evening talk show. You’ve experienced guesting in several talk shows yet, you felt so anxious that your trembling worsened as the minute passed by.

“Hey, are you okay?” Your assistant held your hand as you stood up. You looked at her and gave her a smile that didn’t reach your eyes.

“Yes, I am okay.” 

As you get closer towards the stage, your heartbeat increases. You pause for a while and take a deep breath, while closing your eyes. 

You can do this.

“Good evening, Dr. Y/N! How are you doing?” Park Jimin—the host asked you with a wide smile on his face.

“I’m great, how are you?” you try to connect the level of your energy to his. 

“I’m great as well! Are you ready? I know you won’t get too nervous since you have been a guest in several talk shows and interviews, right?” Oh, how you wish that’s your case.

“Of course! I look forward to this!”

You had a few talks with Jimin, explaining how the show will flow and you also reviewed the possible questions that he’s going to ask you. You were starting to get comfortable being on the stage. The rolling is about to start when your eyes land on a familiar figure wearing a black hoodie along with a headphone on his head. Your eyes widened in a complete terror, as your pulse raced with each thudding heartbeat.

Jeon Jungkook is here, staring at you with a demonic smile on his face.

“Rolling! We’ll begin in 3… 2… 1.” He was looking at you while he spoke on his headphones. Your surroundings turned into a blur as you felt that every movement was in slow motion. You notice that Park Jimin is already talking with so much energy and you try to wake yourself up.

“What inspires you to write this book? Was there a particular experience or realization that led to its creation?”

You grip your hand to stop its trembling before you answer. “People tend to choose their biggest life decisions when they are in an emotional state, and this book will teach everyone to always think twice or even thrice whenever they make big decisions for themselves. I, myself once experience choosing a decision that I wish I did not choose, and it lend me to regrets, which I don’t want people to experience that’s why I wrote ‘The Paradox of Choice.’” 

You try not to look at Jungkook after you respond but your own eyes are betraying you. There’s a sly smile on his lips as his eyes bore into you. 

You fucking hate it when his eyes are on you.

“How did you research and gather information for your book? Can you describe your process?” You froze on your seat when Jimin asked you that question. Your hands tremble even more, gripping it tightly to stop. You glance at Jungkook who’s standing meters away from you, playing his lips with his fingers. 

You don’t want to answer this because your method of gathering information for your book is what he obviously uses against you.

‘I record the sessions with my patients and analyze it to add an input to the book.’

It was the answer that you cannot say while he’s watching. 

Instead, “I did my own research with the help of my patient’s own experiences.”

Even in your peripheral view, you could still feel his eyes digging into your soul.

Once the shoot is done, you immediately storm out of the stage and lock yourself inside the comfort room for god knows how long. 

You stood before the sink, hands outstretched beneath the gentle stream of cool water pouring from the faucet as it ran down to your hands. 

You slowly rub both of your hands but the trembling of it isn’t stopping. You rub it even further to steady your hands, until you suddenly outburst silently. You can’t scream or cry, and the only thing you can do is endure the anger you feel right now. 

The soft hum of fluorescent lights filled the space with white glow, opposite of what you feel right now. Your hands are still trembling as you look at your face in the mirror. 

You look so horrible. 

When you’re stressed out because of your workloads, you can still appreciate the beauty you have, but right now, you really look so miserable. 

Jungkook is doing his excellent job in fucking you up. 

This is driving you insane. He’s driving you insane. You’re fed up with all of his shit and it’s too much already. You don’t even know what you did wrong for him to do this to you. The only thing you did is help him cope up with his trauma–or more like fake traumas. 

So you don’t know where you went wrong with him. 

Your assistant called your name on the other side of the door, asking if you’re fine which you’re not. You did your best to calm down before you decided to come out. 

It’s almost midnight when you’ve finished packing your things and ready to leave. Everyone’s out already and you don’t know who was left. You’re supposed to go home an hour ago but you choose to rest for a while before you go. 

The basement parking lot was nearly empty when you arrived; not even the guards were visible. But, as you approached your car, you noticed a tall, muscular man standing beside it, wearing a black hoodie, with both of his hands inside his pockets, clearly waiting for you.

He looked up when he noticed your presence, he stood straight, greeting you with a smirk on his face. 

“What took you so long?” Jungkook asked, a sly smile still on his face. 

“What do you want?” You pondered, glaring at him. 

He scoffed, “You always ask the same question over and over even though you already know the answer.” 

You didn’t respond, ignoring him, as you walked towards the driver’s seat but before you even opened the door, he already blocked you. 

“Don’t ignore me while I’m talking to you.” He threatened, eyes buried on you. 

“I have no more business with you.” You answered, passing by him as you opened the front door. 

“As far as I remember, we still have business going on.” He said, provoking you even more. 

You placed down your things on the passenger seat and before you could even hop on, he spoke.

“You’re brave enough to ignore me now. Why? Do you think I’m already done with you?” His voice dripped with a mocking undertone, a wry smirk played on his lips as he spoke.

“Or you’d be glad to see you and your best friend in the news by tomorrow morning?”

You clenched your jaw, glaring at him as you balled your fist. “I’ve already done what you want. I let you continue our remaining sessions but you go beyond that and pester me for almost 3 times a week! What more do you want?!” 

He tilted his head, licking his lips, trying his best to hide his teasing smile. He clicked his tongue before he spoke. “That's the second time you ask that question. Do you have other questions in mind that you’d like to ask?” 

“When will you ever stop?” He instantly laughed at your question. 

“You didn’t even hide the fact that you already want me out of your life.”

“I never try hiding it.”

“You’re becoming stronger and bolder now, Y/N. Well, I prefer this rather than seeing you crying your ass out begging me to stop. Unless, you’re crying as you scream my name.” He wore a suggestive smirk, provoking you even more.

“You’re sick!”

“You’ve been asking what I want and I’ve already told you, Y/N. I hate it when I keep repeating myself. You’re not stupid, you know that.” He arched a brow, a scornful stare bore into you. 

“And you’re delusional if you think I’d agree with that.”

“Then suit yourself and make sure that you won’t regret your decision.” He smirks, biting his lower lips.

“What are you gonna do?” You asked but when he didn’t answer and turned away, you screamed at him. 

“Jungkook, what the fuck are you going to do?!”

He scoffed before he looked back. “You’ll see.”

—

You want to die.

You just fucking want to die and bring Jungkook along with you.

Your emotions churned like a violent sea, a mix of anxiety, anger and fear that threatened to overturn you. Your heart pounded with rage, and your fingers trembled with fear as you held your phone, trying to avoid dropping it.

A video posted on twitter is playing from your phone, a video that you saw a few days ago.

You felt like throwing up when you saw that video again. Taehyung's face is blurred, but you can tell it's him. People might struggle to identify the person beating up an innocent man, but it won't take long for them to figure it out.

‘I wonder if you guys have any hint of who’s that man on the video? I bet you guys know because you love him so much. But I also wonder if you know your idol’s true color.’

The caption says, and the account is made to specifically attack and throw hate to people.

This could be Jungkook, but you weren't certain because he could have asked others to do it to avoid implicating himself. He has a reputation to maintain as well.

101k views, 5k reposts and 26k likes. 

‘Holy shit. Why do I feel like it’s Beom Seok from Horizon?’

‘This should be taken down.’

‘Eun Dae used to be a member of a fraternity before he become an idol lmaooo’

‘Taehyung was also rumored to be part of a frat before but it hasn't been proven yet.’

Fucking hell. Taehyung must know this shit already and you don’t know what to do. It should be taken down but the video was posted 2 hrs ago and you just saw it right now. Even though it was taken down, people already saved it from their devices.

You were still in the middle of breaking down when your phone rang, and when you saw the caller ID, your blood erupted.

It was Jeon Jungkook. You scream on your phone before you decline the call. You were about to turn your phone off when he sent a message that angered you even more.

‘Decline the call one more time, you will see the video again and I will make sure that the face of Taehyung is visible for everyone to know that it’s him.’

Your hands grew cold and started to shake when your phone rang once again. You had been clenching your teeth before deciding to answer the call.

“How are you, Doc?” He greets you in his sweet voice that only annoys you even more. “Do you think that I wouldn’t do it?” He added, releasing a sarcastic laugh. 

“Take it down, Jungkook.” Your words dripped with menace. 

“You’re the one who made me do it. It’s your fault, Y/N.”

“You monster! Why do you have to involve him?! He didn’t even do anything!” You screamed, pulling your hair out of anger.

“I know but you care for him so much. It’s a natural thing to involve him.”

Your tears run through your cheek as you collapse from the ground. You’re starting to lose your sanity. 

“What do you want?” You spoke in a low voice.

“You want to know? Come here at my place and I will let you know, Y/N.”

—

You’ve expected that Jungkook is living in a high end luxurious apartment building but you didn’t expect that it would be in the highest floor, a penthouse. 

Jungkook noted that he left the door unlocked so you can enter without him opening it for you. You were scared of what could happen inside his penthouse given the fact that he’s a dangerous person by murdering his own mother but you’re desperate to stop him. 

Your heart was pounding when you opened his double-door and as expected, it was unlocked.

You are greeted by a huge area of floor-to-ceiling windows that frame breathtaking panoramic views of the whole city lights. The living room is adorned with designer furniture, a monochromatic symphony of blacks, grays, and whites, and a wall adorned with abstract art that speaks Jungkook's taste.

The place is beautiful, opposite to the person living in here. 

“You came.” You immediately turned around when you heard his demonic voice behind. He’s in the corner of the stairs from the second floor as he slowly steps down, hands in his pocket with a smirk on his lips. 

“Take that video down.” You glared, speaking with your teeth.

“Or else, what? Are you going to report me again? ” He stopped in the middle of the stairs, placing his hands on the railings. He scoffs when you don't respond. “You should know by now that it won’t work, Y/N.” He added, continuing to step down. 

“I’m already here, so tell me what the fuck do you want?” You raised your voice, itching to know what he really wants. 

“Why are you in a hurry, Doc?” He was about to touch your face when you blocked his hands, throwing it away.

“Take that video down, Jungkook.” You spoke, trying to contain yourself. 

He smirks before he turns away and takes a step towards his kitchen island, pouring wine on his wine glass. 

"I've already done that for being such a good and obedient girl." He sips on his wine, not breaking eye contact with you. “But I can upload it again if you choose to test my patience.” He adds. You bite the inside of your lower lips to prevent yourself from attacking him. 

“Why did you even ask me to be here?” 

“Didn’t I tell you before? I want you, Y/N.” 

He poured wine in another glass and walked towards you, handling the wine for you, but you just glanced at it and returned your gaze to him.  

“Let’s not waste time and tell me what the fuck you want so I can leave now.” You said in gritted teeth.

“I already told you, so stop being stubborn and drink this wine before I change my mind and upload the video with your best friend's face clearly visible along with the illegal recordings you had with your patient.” In an instant, he shifted from a playful smirk to a sudden seriousness, dropping the playful facade. 

You take the wine in his hands and he asks you to drink but you immediately shake your head. “I’m not going to let you poison me.”

“If I’m going to do that, I already did when I first walked into your office. It’s easier to kill you than to kill my mother, if that’s what you want to hear.” His words sent shivers down your spine, forcing yourself to sip in the glass as the taste of rich, velvety smoothness of the wine caressed your tongue. He smirks when he is satisfied with your sip. 

“See, you’re still alive.” 

He turned around taking a step forward and telling you to follow him, but when you didn’t, he looked back and his unyielding gaze bore into you. “Are you coming or do you want me to drag you from where you stand right now?”

You swallow hard, trying not to prevent yourself from showing any signs of fear, but it was harder than you thought because you’re in his territory. 

“Are you going to kill me?” Your words come out as a whisper but he was able to hear it and when he does, he grins. 

“Why, are you scared?” He took a sip from his wine, eyes fixed on you. “To answer your question, no, I’m not going to kill you.”

“Then where are you taking me?” 

“We’ll have dinner, now start to move before I drag you to the dining table.”

You indeed had dinner with him and several dishes were served on the long table. By just looking at what is served, you immediately remember that you hadn’t eaten anything yet since morning and everything you see is appetizing. The whole dining room was magnificent. The space was bathed in a war, golden glow of crystal chandelier that hung from a high, ornate ceiling. If you were in a different situation, you’d love to stay here.

Obviously, your life’s on the line and you can’t just eat and relax right now. 

“Don’t you like the food? Why aren’t you eating much?” He asked before he took another bite of his steak.

You’ve tasted what’s in front of you and it was so insanely good, but you can’t eat much by just thinking of what situation you have right now. 

"I'm not hungry," you reasoned out, then sipped your glass of water. You glanced around to see if there was anyone else in the vicinity, but you saw nothing, not even maids or cooks. It was the perfect opportunity for him to kill you, with no one else around except the two of you.

“I doubt. I know that you haven’t eaten anything. Go and enjoy your meal. It won’t harm you.” You only stare at your plate, trying to wash away the negative thoughts you have. You took another bite of your steak and you can’t help but to crave more on how it tastes so good. 

“I could tell that you like the steak, but you’re having a hard time enjoying it. I wonder what’s running through your mind.” He placed both of his elbows on the table and intertwined his fingers. 

“Will you let me go after this meal?” Your question made him chuckled, loud and mocking. 

“Here you go again, so desperate to leave me.” He commented, wiping the corner of his lips with a table napkin. 

“If you just tell me what you’re planning to do, then I wouldn’t keep asking you.” You answered, taking a sip of your water. 

“This is the plan you’re asking about. Didn’t I tell you before that I wanted to take you out for dinner to show my gratitude for being my therapist? That’s what I’m doing right now.” He grabs his wine glass and leans back before he whirl the glass, taking a sip from it.

“That’s it? That’s what you want? To take me out for dinner?” You asked like you can’t believe what he just said. 

“Why, what do you expect?” He placed his elbow on the arm rest and played with his lips; the mannerisms he does when he’s enjoying something. 

“You must be kidding me right now. I know you want something more. I know you, Jungkook. I know you.”

“If you claim to know me so much, then you should know that I am serious with what I want from you.” His eyebrow furrowed, gazing at you with intensity. “That’s the problem with people like you. You think too much and it leads you to danger.” He scoffs.

He stood up from his seat and took a step towards you, while you didn’t move an inch from your position. 

“From the moment I walked into your office, I know from myself that I want you. With your long hair falling back beautifully to the tight black dress you wore, I immediately agreed to take the sessions with you.” He stood beside you from your seat, resting his hands on the backrest of your chair while you were there, completely frozen. 

“Hoseok and my lawyer Namjoon told me that I should act like the incident causes me trauma to prevent them from suspecting me to be the culprit. I did not agree because it’s bullshit but they keep on convincing me.” He chuckled as he remembered something. “I planned on attending a single session and I won’t show up again but when I saw you sitting on your office chair with a bright smile on your pretty face, I thought that attending sessions with you won’t be that bad after all.”

He caresses your hair and you try not to flinch, clenching your jaw. 

“I do enjoy the sessions we had because you’re so entertaining to watch. You talked as if you know everything but the truth is, you don’t. I just let you think that way because you’re so passionate about what you do. I don’t want to ruin your ego, Doc.” 

He kept on caressing your hair and when you couldn't take it anymore, you stood up, facing him with anger on your face. 

“I’m done with my meal. I’m going home.” You gazed at him with a piercing stare, picking up your things. 

“You think I will let you leave just like that?” An ominous aura surrounded him when `he spoke. You’re trying to strengthen yourself as you take a step towards the door, but before you even made it, he spoke again. “Get back here, Y/N.” He threatened. 

“Stop playing with me, Jungkook.” 

“Try to take another step and I will make sure that before this night ends, your career is over as well as your best friend’s. You know that I can do it, Y/N. You wouldn’t like to test me again.” A cold, sinister flowed from his voice.

You didn’t dare take another step, afraid of provoking him even more. You hate that he can control you with just the use of his words. You still have the lash on your neck, making him take control over you. 

“That’s right, be the good girl that you are, Y/N.” He said, with a smirk on his lips. He placed his hands inside his pocket as he slowly walked towards you. “I don’t understand why you keep giving me that kind of behavior but you can’t stand by it.” He towered over you and he tried to touch your cheek but before he even did it, you avoided his touch and took a step backward.

He smirks, staring at you before he speaks again. “Even if you try to avoid me, I will still find my way to you, Y/N. If I were you, I wouldn't waste my time doing that.” He walks back to the long table and grabs his wine glass and takes a sip on it without leaving his eyes on you. 

You didn’t move nor say anything, observing his movements. You’re at his territory and you couldn’t risk provoking him because he can do anything to you without the people knowing what’s happening inside his penthouse.

He grabbed the new bottle of wine and opened it, filling up your wine glass, walking towards you, and handling you the glass. You only stare at it and Jungkook gestures to you to take it. 

“Hurry up and get it, Y/N. My arms are starting to numb.” He said and you are left without a choice, so you take the wine from his hands. “Go drink it.”

You look at the wine glass and there are a few bubbles underneath it and you swallow hard before you take a sip from it. 

“Finish it up, Y/N. Don’t make me tell you everything you have to do.”

You wanted to cry but you didn’t let your guards down. You’re starting to regret going here. 

You chug the wine while your hands are trembling and he smiles after you finish it. 

“That’s right, you’re such a good girl.” He took the glass from you and placed it back on the table. 

After a few moments, your heartbeat increases rapidly and your whole body starts to tremble. Jungkook was just looking at you as he enjoyed his wine and you suddenly felt so weak, your head started to ache.

There is something wrong with the wine.

You take a deep breath, fighting the weakness within you. You wouldn’t want to show that you’re getting weak in front of him. You walk back to your seat and grab your things before looking at him.

“I really have to go. I have a lot of things to do.” You spoke in your low voice, being careful of your actions.

Jungkook pouted in a sarcastic way. “There’s no way I’m letting you go.” he answered before he smirked. Your headache worsened but you didn’t show any signs of your weakness.

He walked towards you and you admit that you’re getting scared of what he might do. You step back but there is no more space because the table is already bumping your back. He raised his hand to touch your face once again but you blocked his touch.

And in a snap of a finger, he aggressively grabbed your face using only a single hand and his eyes suddenly filled with darkness. “Stop resisting me, Y/N. You can’t win over me.” He spoke in a low but sinister tone. 

Your limbs trembled uncontrollably, unable to withstand the weight of your fear. After a few seconds of staring at your soul with so much intensity, he already released his firm hold on your face but he didn’t move away. Instead, he slowly traces your face with his fingers.

Your weakness worsens and you can’t move nor think anymore. The only thing you can do is let him touch you.

“I love it so much when the cause of your weakness is me.” 

Your eyes widen as you gasp silently when his lips crushes on you. It was hard and you tried to move away but he gripped your arm, unabling you to move. You were trying to push him but because of your weakness, it didn’t even move an inch. 

“Open your mouth, baby girl.” He commands as he speaks in between his kisses. 

“Jungkook s-stop—

“I told you not to fight me.”

His lips went down on your neck sucking your skin and you used all your strength to push him away but he was too strong. He locked your hand on the table as he shifted his kiss on your lips and neck. Your body is shaking and tears are now flowing from your cheek and when he notices it, he stops, staring at you without removing his grip on your hand from the table.

“If you keep being difficult, I fucking swear that you wouldn’t make it out alive and I will make sure that your bestfriend will fall on the ground so hard that he can never recover.” He whispers in your ear, making you stand frozen with a pounding heart. 

You were too weak to fight and you’re sure that it’s not only because he’s dangerous but there is something in the wine you just drank. 

He stares at your face, like memorizing every feature of it. He lifts his hand, slowly wiping your tears away. He traces your face before he moves closer to peck your forehead. His lips were soft on your skin, but it only sent shivers down your spine.

“You don’t have to be scared because I will bring heaven to you.” He whispers before he sucks your ear lobe. 

He held your waist while kissing you, pushing his tongue inside. His lips were so soft and you could taste the bittersweet of the wine he just drank a few moments ago. His hands were traveling around your body while his lips were still on yours. You wanted to push him and run away but you know that you couldn’t do that because before you even reach his gigantic door, you’re probably dead. 

“Do you know how much I crave for you, huh?” He tried to speak in his desperate kisses as his breath became heavier. “From the first time I step in your office, you never leave my head. You fucking drive me insane.”

He lifted you up to the table as his kisses became aggressive and you were just there, being helpless. 

He cupped the back of your neck as he sucked it leaving a bruise before his hands traveled down to your thighs and caressed them. His hands were burning through your skin and you deny that your body starts to burn as well. He lifts you up and your thighs are in between his body carrying you to an unfamiliar room and the next thing you know, you’re already laying down on a bed. 

Your back slowly touched the soft mattress as he started to crawl on the top of you. Your body is trembling and your heart is beating so fast as he brushes your face with the back of his fingers. 

“This is what I really want, Y/N. Me on the top of you.” The room is dark but you could still see the glimpse of his face with how the moon illuminated the darkness of the room. He gently strokes your face down to your neck, until it reaches your chest. He leans forward and places his ears on your chest, listening to your pounding heartbeat. “Just by listening to your heartbeat is enough for me to get turned on.” He whispers in your ears before he brushes his lips to your neck, immediately feelings his hot and wet breaths. 

Your breath rose when you felt his fingers crawling underneath your shirt, fingers wandering at your bare skin. You suddenly flinch when his fingers rub your breast, making him smirk. “You like it when I touch you like this?” He asked in his low and seductive voice, and when you didn’t respond, his fingers circles your nipples slowly causing you to moan. 

You’re wearing a dress and he slowly lifts the end of it, completely taking your dress off and when he did, he gave a peck on your breast before removing your bra. A sudden sense of unwanted pleasure filled your body as he sucked your left breast while massaging the other one, leaving a tingle on your stomach. It didn’t take long before his lips connected on yours, slipping his tongue, letting out another moan. He moves his mouth down to your neck once again, sucking it while his other hand is trailing down your back.

His fingers travel down on the waistband of your underwear, leaving soft kisses. “I’ve always wondered how your bare body looks, and it’s exactly how I imagine. So sexy and gorgeous.” He played with the waistband of your underwear before he slowly pulled it down, leaving you gasping. 

You’re at the verge of crying when he spreads your legs apart, exposing your bare pussy, leaning down and leaving a kiss on your pelvic bone. You tried to push your body deeper in the mattress to avoid his kisses, but he only grips your hips firmly to prevent yourself from moving. “Stop fighting, Y/N.” He said with a stone voice. 

He leaves a last peck on your pelvic bone, moving down on your clit before he kisses it, leaving you panting. You resist yourself from whimpering but when he slides a tongue on your clit, you groan. You were fighting the pleasure that you felt, but the more he keeps on licking your folds, the more your body burns.

"Fuck baby, you taste just like how I imagined it. So sweet for me."

You were disgusted at yourself for feeling something so good, and disgusted at him for doing this to you. 

“You act like you don’t like what you feel, but with how wet you are, it only proves how you love this so much.” He said—almost sounds like a whimper. Your eyes widened when you felt his fingers circling your clit before he slowly inserted it inside. You moan so loud when he moves his fingers as he licks your clit and you cry with the burning sensation radiating to you. 

You weren’t a virgin and you’ve hooked up several times, yet you can’t admit it to yourself that he was doing good eating you out. 

“No matter how you say that you hate me, your body will never lie.” He whispers, as he drag his finger inside and out in a quicker motion. 

No matter how you stop yourself from moaning, that sound escapes your mouth. 

Pain leaves you when he pulls his fingers and when you look at him, he removes his shirt revealing his chiseled and sculpted body. He leans forward to slide his fingers inside your mouth, letting you taste yourself before he slides his tongue. A moan escaped you when he rubbed his fingers on your clit, feeling your wetness, before he inserted his finger once again. 

You’re trying your best not to let out another moan but your body is betraying you because you were moaning in between his lips that you could feel his smirk. 

“Don’t be hard on yourself and let yourself enjoy it, baby girl.”

After a few moments of him fucking your pussy with his fingers, your whimper as you reached your orgasm. You shred a tear when you realize how your own body betrays you. 

He withdraws his fingers as he continues to suck your neck while his hands are circling to your waist down to your hips and grinding his body on you. He then pulls himself to take off the pants that he’s wearing as your body starts to tremble.

You stare at his movements as he pulls down his pants and you gasp when he pulls it down, completely exposing dick. 

His huge, holy shit.

He strokes it and it arouses you even more. You hate yourself right now more than you hate him because you can’t believe that you’re craving it. 

“Please Jungkook, don’t.” Your voice quivered with desperate pleading.

“Stop acting that you’re not enjoying it because your body says otherwise.” He scoffs before he kneels in between your body and pumps his dick, gripping it tightly.

“Spread your legs for me, baby girl.” He commands as he parts your legs. Your eyes widen when you feel that he’s rubbing his dick on your folds as your wetness overflows and a moan is released on your lips. 

“That’s right, moan for me.” He said, almost sound like a whimper teasing you even more and it didn’t take long when he slid his dick inside you making your nails buried on his back. 

“Fuck Y/N, you’re so tight!” He moaned as he went deeper. He placed his hand on your back and a pain filled you when he dug deeper. He was sucking your neck as he kept thrusting in and out. You were pulling his hair, as he groaned on every thrust he made. He stops from time to time to suck your nipples and kiss your lips, making you moan continuously. 

"You're taking me so well, fuck. That's right, take me so well."

You’re starting to cry with the unwanted pleasure you feel but Jungkook only kisses your tears away. And with a hard thrust, you’re about to come. Your breath comes out heavily as you keep on whimpering with every thrust he does. Jungkook curses, his thrust becomes harder and you start to tremble.

“Yes baby, cum all over me and show me how much you enjoyed this.” His words almost sound like a whimper and it only motivates you to reach your second orgasm. 

And when you did, you cried louder as he thrust harder and deeper for the last time. 

—

You were lying on his bed without your clothes, while he was beside you, sleeping peacefully as if he hadn't disrespected you an hour ago. His bed was the softest and most comfortable you had ever experienced, its softness enveloping your body in a gentle embrace. However, all you could feel was disgust and anger at what he had done to you.

 You should be running right now but your body froze and you can’t move them even an inch. It happened three times in a row, and you've been begging him to stop, but he doesn't listen, as if he were possessed by a devil. He's already a monster himself, but you didn't anticipate him forcing you to comply. Most especially, you loathe yourself because your body responds to his desires, leading him to believe that you genuinely enjoy what he's doing, but in reality, you're horrified.

The room is dark, and the moon casts its enchanting glow upon it. You're gazing at the full glass window, where the distant city lights flicker in the distance. An emotional numbness envelopes you, leaving you unstable and broken.

You slowly turn towards the person beside you, and as expected, he's asleep. You can't believe how different he appears when he's sleeping, nothing like the person you know. Instead, he resembles a man who wouldn't harm a soul when his eyes are closed. However, the burning anger you feel hasn't subsided. You can never forget what he has done to you. 

The anger surged within you and you wanted to lash out, to make him feel the same pain he has caused you. You clenched your fist and the thought of killing him gnawed at the edges of your sanity. 

You looked around to find something to protect yourself from him. Slowly, you raised yourself from lying down, careful not to make any movements that might wake him up. With trembling hands, you reach your dress from the floor and put it on before scanning the room.

You've been here for quite some time, but this is the first occasion you've had to observe his entire room. As expected, his room is quite spacious, yet you can't discern the color of the walls as darkness covers the entire space. Your eyes catch a glimpse of a chest of drawers in the corner of the room, and above it, there are photographs adorning the wall. As you take a step closer, your heart rate quickens upon seeing the photos that are affixed to the wall.

The room might be dark but it’s evident that the polaroid photos on the wall are you. There are a lot of photos of you and they are a mix of a photo from your social media accounts and a photo that he took without you noticing it. 

He’s been stalking you for a quite long time already. 

A memory comes back when you’ve felt that someone is looking at you or when you’ve felt like he’s around and you brush it all away believing that you were wrong but it all makes sense because he’s been stalking you and you don’t have any idea of it. 

Your trembling hands worsened as your jaw clenched, turning around with your eyes glared at his sleeping figure.

Your anger consumes you, and with every fiber of your being, a raw, primal fury pulses, urging you to harm him. As your rage intensifies, a dark abyss opens in your mind, and your thoughts race. You take a step toward the bed where he's lying down as your heart thunders in your chest.

‘You fucking monster.’

Even if there isn’t enough light, you still manage to look around to find something. You returned to the chest drawer opening it and you gasped as you saw more photos inside. You didn’t try to look at them one by one focusing on finding something.

‘I will fucking kill you’

From the drawer, you walked around and opened every cabinet inside his room to find something you’re looking for and when you did, your body suddenly froze. 

A gun.

With your heavy breaths and trembling hand, you took it out from the drawer and took a moment to stare at it. 

But before you’ve processed everything, you heard a voice speak.

“My little Y/N, what do you think you’re doing?” 

You immediately stood up, turned around, and saw Jungkook standing 7 feet away from you. The room was so dark that you couldn't see his face, but you could make out his silhouette. He was wearing pants but nothing on top.

You pointed the gun at him but he only laughed it out. Your entire body froze as you pointed the gun firmly on him and your heartbeat echoed loudly on your ears. Your breath came short, as if your lungs were struggling to keep up with your racing thoughts.

He walked slowly toward the bedside table and switched on the lamp, causing the room to fill with a warm glow. It wasn't very bright, but it was enough for both of you to see each other.

He grins as he sees that you stepped back, holding the gun firmer when he took a step towards you. 

You’re shaking so bad but you can’t hold your guards down because anything can happen in just a matter of seconds. 

“What, you’re gonna shoot me after I satisfy you?” He said with a grin on his lips. 

“I’m going to kill you.” Your voice is low but every word you say is sharp enough to show that you’re serious but he only scoffed at your words.

“Really, you’re going to do that?” His voice was seductive, provoking you even more. 

You try to find any signs of fear on his face but you find nothing. Instead, it only worsens your emotions. You weren’t sure if the gun that you’re holding is loaded and you only pray that it does. 

It’s your first time holding a gun and you don't have any idea of how to use it but your life is in danger and you have to act accordingly. 

You cocked the gun and pointed it out at him once again. 

“Do you even know how to use that?” He pouted as if he cares but it was full of mockery and sarcasm. 

“Don’t come near me.” You whispered as you held the gun firmly.

“Come on Y/N, don’t embarrass yourself.” He took a step back and sat at the edge of the bed, while his eyes were on you. “We both know that you aren't capable of doing that. Didn’t I satisfy you enough?” 

“Shut up.”

“As far as I remember, you love it so much when I eat you out. Did I think that wrong?” He rested his hand on the mattress behind him. “I love every reaction that you make when you feel so good. I love it when you dig your nails on my skin because you can’t contain the stimulation. And by how you feel so weak with my touch and kiss–

“Shut the fuck up!”

Your heart raced, your body trembled and a cold sweat broke out on your forehead. your thoughts worsen into chaos and an overwhelming dread washed over you. You can’t take the words he said. You just wanted him to shut up.

He stares at you with so much intensity, like he can see through your soul. “You should’ve checked if the gun was loaded, babe.” He commented shifting his gaze to the gun you’re holding. 

You shook your head as you pressed your lips firmly. “You monster. I’m going to fucking kill you.”

“Then kill me,” He spoke in his low voice. “Shoot me, Y/N.” He slowly stands up and walks towards you, making you step backwards. You panicked even more but you tried your best to stay still and point the gun towards him. 

“Show me how brave you are, Dr. Y/N.” Your back bumps into the cabinet behind you when there is no more space for you to step back as you were shaking so badly and you can no longer hold your tears. He pressed his chest on the muzzle of the gun while looking at you with so much intensity. 

In the blink of an eye, he firmly grabs your arm, attempting to wrest the gun from your grip, but you hold it even more tightly. You push him using your elbow, but he chokes you, and you tremble in pain. He's strong, but your determination is unwavering, and you won't lose to him this time.

You step forcefully onto his right foot, and when he shows his weakness, you swiftly break free from his grasp. However, he manages to trip you, causing you to fall and drop the gun.

You immediately crawl to get the gun but he pulled your leg away from it. 

“You can never escape me, Y/N!” He spoke as his hands circled around your neck. 

Your eyes were starting to blur, preventing you from seeing anything for a few moments. A sense of helplessness washed over you until your eyes caught the gun a few inches away from you. He was focused on choking you to death while you’re focused on reaching the gun. Desperation clouded your thoughts, urging you to stay stronger and when you finally reached the gun, you immediately pulled the trigger in his direction. 

You stood up when he released you, as a searing pain tore through his body upon being struck by the bullet, leaving him gasping for breath. You held the gun firmly while he endured the pain in his rib that had been hit by a bullet.

You cocked the gun one more time and pointed at him. 

You panted heavily as a panic gripped you, the inability to catch your breath adding to the rising sense of fear. He clenched his jaw, forcing himself not to let a sound escape his lips. 

He pressed his hand on his rib, looking at you with the same eyes that you despise so much. Despite being shot, he can still manage to look at you with mockery. 

"Do you believe that after what you've done, you have already… won?" He smirks as he slowly falls on the ground, enduring his physical pain. “I was in your position months ago. Holding a… gun as I shoot my mother. How ironic that the person… who tried to heal me was also the person… who would try to kill me.” He felt an agonizing, relentless throbbing at the site of the gunshot trying to ease the pain. He tried to stand up before he continued. “You’ve said a lot of times that my actions are… bad but look at you right now… Doing the same… thing.” 

“We’re not the same!” You shouted, holding the gun with your two hands. “You ruin my life, you monster!” You felt a seething rage, a burning intensity that threatened to overtake you. 

He only smirks at your response. “Really? Because last time I checked… I shoot my mother for being the monster that she is.” 

“Don’t you dare compare yourself to me!” Your fingers were trembling, itching to pull the trigger. 

“You might keep on denying it but we both know the truth.” Even in his situation, he can still play with a sinister smile on his lips. 

“You’re fucking wrong—

“Come on, Y/N! Look at you!” His eyes blazed with fiery, smirking at you as he cut you off. “You’re just like me! We’re really meant to be!” You are consumed by fury, your thoughts a turbulent storm of anger as his sinister laugh triggers you even more. Your heart pounded in your chest, tears streaming down your cheek and without you noticing it, you’re shooting him continuously.

“Fuck you! Motherfucker!” 

You continue to curse and pull the trigger even though he's already lying on the ground. Your anger blinds you to the point where you can no longer process your actions.

“I’m not like you! I’m fucking not like you!” You screamed along with every shot you made. Your heart pounded on your chest, as your words dripped with outrage. The only time you stop is when the gun is out of bullets. 

The room was surrounded by blood as you observed his lifeless body lying on the ground. You couldn't recall how many times you had shot him, but judging by the considerable amount of blood scattered about, it was evident that you had shot him numerous times.

Your vision swam before you, blurring the edges of reality as the world around you seemed to spin. You glance at the gun you’re holding and you immediately drop it off. Your whole body trembled uncontrollably, making you collapse on the floor. 

Blood. There’s a lot of blood.

The surroundings fell into an eerie silence and a chill ran down your spine. You're suddenly suffocated by fear as you crawl backward.

He’s dead. I killed him.

The only thing that you hear is the ticking sound of the clock and nothing else. You slowly look around but the only thing you see is blood. 

“But look at you right now, doing the same thing.”

“You’re just like me! We’re really meant to be!”

You covered your ears as you heard him. He was dead but you can still hear his sinister voice. 

“You can never escape me, Y/N!”

“STOP!”

—

The horizon blazed with a rich, golden hue as the sun's first rays pierced the darkness. Birds whistled as the day began. The air, now filled with the promise of warmth and life and with each passing moment, the sky emerged from its darkness.

Yet the horror you’ve made is still there. 

You’re under the glass window, watching the world to start its day. The room is still covered in blood–your body is still covered in blood. The sun has risen yet you wanted to stay in the dark. You don’t know what to do anymore. 

You suddenly heard the ringtone of your phone, making you feel more vulnerable. You covered your ears to prevent yourself from hearing it yet the sound seems to hunt you. 

After the call dies, you thought that it won’t ring again but before you can even have a peace of mind, it rang once again. 

Your legs tremble when you stand up. You do your best not to look at the corpse laying on the ground as you walk out of the room. 

His living room is exactly how it looked the last time you saw it. You look around to see any living thing but you sense nothing. Your phone is still ringing when you spot it on the top of the dining table where you ate last night. 

Where he forced you to drink a wine that made you weak. 

Tears welled up in your eyes when you saw the caller’s ID. 

It was your best friend.

It was Taehyung. 

“Thank god you answered! Where the hell are you?! I’ve been calling you since last night but you aren’t answering! You’re gonna kill me for worrying to you!”

Hearing his voice broke you down. Your tears flowed continuously as an uncontrollable emotion poured out on you. 

“Y/N, what happened? Why are you crying?” A deep concern is evident in his voice. 

You were shaking, crying with broken sobs as you covered your mouth in an attempt to calm down.

“Y/N! Speak up! What’s wrong?!”

“Tae… Please help me.” You attempt to speak. 

“Where are you? I’m going there.”

“Taehyung.”

“Y/N, what happened?”

“I made a grave sin.” 

“What?”

Your wailing sobs echoed through the whole area as you fell on your knees. He keeps asking what happened but you’re having a hard time admitting it. 

“Y/N, how am I going to help you if you can’t tell me?”

After a few moments, you started to calm down. Your sobs gradually subsided, a quiet hiccup escaped you as you closed your eyes briefly.

“I killed a man.” The words escape your lips and a new set of tears forms on your eyes. 

You never thought that you would resort to killing him. Out of all the things that happened, you wanted to end everything without harming anyone. You’re a well-known psychiatrist who has an advocacy that despite of who you are and what you’ve become, your mental health matters. 

You know yourself well. You know your strengths and weaknesses, and the cause of your happiness and sadness. But that’s what you thought. 

You can’t control your emotions. 

No matter how you try, you will always have a hard time controlling it.

There are a lot of reasons why people act without thinking when they are emotional. According to a study, physiologically, emotions can activate the body's fight-or-flight response. When emotions trigger this response, stress hormones like adrenaline flood the system, preparing the body to respond to perceived threats. This physiological reaction can reduce the ability to think clearly and may lead to impulsive actions.

“Where are you?” After a long pause, Taehyung finally spoke. 

“At Jeon Jungkook’s place. One of my patients.” You respond in a low voice. 

“Message me the exact address and I’ll be right there.”

You weren’t in your right mind when you pulled the trigger. You didn’t like what happened. 

Therefore, you weren’t just like him. 

It was his fault, after all.

-end-

a/n: finally, it's complete! Thank you so much for joining me in writing this JK fic. It's my first time delving into the thriller genre, and I've truly enjoyed the experience. I also hope that you all enjoy reading it as well. Have a great day, everyone!

taglist: @idkjustlovingbts @koohrs @minshookie29 @aajjks @softie00 @exquisite-bands @kingofbodyrolls @floralflowexs @oopscoop @yoonjinhusbands @ash07128 @kookiesbunny @cinnikoi @yluv-damara-13 @hoseoksluv89 @darkuni63 @iloverubberduckiez-blog @fangirl-death-rose @looneybleus

[killsaki]

final girl. ☆ surely all the girls being murdered in your town having something that fits your own description is a coincidence… right?

izuku midoriya x female!reader

4k words | part 2 (tbp)

cw/tw : yandere!izu, quirkless/loserboy!izu, stuttering, stalking, drugging, thighfucking, facial, male masturbation, noncon, somnophilia (kinda), alcohol, oc side character, kidnapping, murder (mentions).

“you’re not seriously going out, are you?” comes from your doorway, you turn towards the voice in just enough time to catch sight of your roommate inviting himself into your room, as he always does, before plopping himself down on your mattress.

you sigh before answering, knowing he’s about to spout some of his repetitive nonsense.

“of course i am, fuzen.” he blinks at you with his usual unamused expression, heterochromatic eyebrows slightly raised in a way that you’ve come to learn is a signal for you to ask more about what he’s saying. you take the bait. “but, why do you ask?”

“you’re the target of that serial killer.” you purse your lips at his immediate and dramatic response to stop yourself from laughing, you really shouldn't entertain him all the time. he’s mentioned a few things that could probably cost him his job for disclosing the, in his words, eerie similarities, that you have had with all the victims of recent murders.

it started with things like how they all had your eye color, or that they were all described to have your height and build. you passed those off as generic things, but fuzen didn’t. it spiraled into things as specific as one of them having your hair. well, their hair, but it was the same length as yours, the same color, and her body was found with it styled with the same way that you’d fallen in loved with and wore repeatedly that week. one girl was found with copies of the jewelry that you frequently wore, another even had her nails done almost exactly like your new set.

the longer it went on, the more insistent your roommate became about you listening to what he had to say. but you always changed the subject, figuring that the less you know the easier it’ll be to shake off the cold feeling on your back you sometimes get after leaving the apartment.

“i thought you were a stealth sidekick,” you laugh him off, yet again. ”when did you get demoted to a detective?”

“why does your room feel weird?” he asks suddenly, adjusting his sitting position like he’s been made uncomfortable while he looks around your space. “has someone been in here?”

“uh, yeah, me.” you suck your teeth at him before turning back to your vanity and get back to finishing getting ready.

“why don’t you believe me?” he asks, you can tell he’s a little irritated and it makes you feel bad for always brushing him off.

“‘zen… i know you care about me, i’m sorry.” you meet his gaze in the mirror, finding him already looking back at you. “maybe you’re just overthinking because you care about me?”

he nods slowly, before cracking a grin and shaking his head, “nah, i’m probably just jealous because i don’t have a stalker.” he rolls his neck and you wonder how much truth is in his words. “though i’d probably prefer it without the murder.”

“i don’t have a stalker.” you retort while he chuckles to himself before standing.

“you know,” he stretches his arms, fingertips touching the ceiling as the hem of his shirt lifts to reveal his toned stomach, something you quickly look away from. “that habit of immediately denying stuff that you’re anxious about is gonna bite you in the ass one day.”

his mouth is good at keeping you from being attracted to the rest of him.

“but not today,” you speak matter of fact, “because i do not have a stalker.”

“right, yeah.” he sniggers, clearly not believing a word from you. “didn’t you say you felt like you were being followed home the other night? you should think harder on the description—”

“anyways!” you cut him off, knowing that he’s not going to stop talking unless you make him. sometimes you’re not sure if he actually likes having conversations with you or just the sound of his own voice. “shouldn’t you get back to tying some red thread between the pictures and articles hung up on your wall mr. detective.”

“fuck off.” he flips you off from where he’s now lurking by your dresser, leaning against it as he’s focused on checking his phone. “i know you think i’m joking, but they put me on the west end so i’ll be patrolling over by the party if you–”

“oh! my rides here,” you lie, jumping up to slip past him and out of the conversation. “so, i’ll text you when i make it back home since you’ll be on patrol and i won’t see you again tonight, right?”

“wait!” he calls after you, annoyed by your sudden escape, as you slip on your shoes. “text me if something happens with your ride and i’ll walk you back!”

“bye, fuzen!” you yell back, walking out the door. “love you!”

/// /// ///

maybe… fuzen wasn’t just talking to hear his voice. maybe, there’s a small possibility that you do have a stalker.

you could chalk it all up to your roommate giving you anxiety about the whole situation, or that you’ve had a few too many already. but you can’t deny the fact that from the moment you stepped out of your apartment building until you climbed into your ride’s car, you felt something watching you.

it was a hot gaze, a familiar one. it could’ve been a neighbor, you reasoned to yourself as you waited for kirishima to arrive, and that theory sounded best as you repeated it to yourself at the party, laughing with him and his friends and downing drink after drink. until the chill on the back of your neck reappeared, despite how warm your blood is from the alchol. and no matter how much you looked over your shoulder to try and find some kind of source for it, there just wasn’t anyone there.

“you good?” sero asks when you fail to reply to your name being called.

“huh?” you turn to him to find the whole group looking at you with concern, your face flushes at how ridiculous you must look, being so skittish. “oh, i’m fine,” you force a laugh, hoping it seems genuine. “think i just had a little bit too much.”

“no sweat.” kirishima nods towards the glass door behind him and you try to ignore how sero and denki exchange glances. “let’s go get some air.”

“yeah, okay.” you hope the earth swallows you whole as you follow behind him.

you regret coming, regret not shutting your door while getting ready, regret letting fuzen talk his mouth off at you for so long about it. you’ll chew him out about it tomorrow.

you take a deep breath as you walk out the glass door, kirishima’s large palm rubbing soothingly on your back helps settle the nerves. there’s a comforting warmth that takes over the anxious heat as you lean into him.

“sorry i’m being weird.” you mumble as he guides you into his chest, melting into him and the sound of his steady heart beat.

“you’re fine,” you feel the arm holding his cup raise, the pause between his words meaning his downing the rest of his drink that smells way too strong. “don’t worry about it.”

the two of you sway for a bit, his arms around you and your head on his chest with the muffled music as ambiance.

it could be blamed on the alcohol but in this moment, you’re thankful you have kirishima. thankful for how it took absolutely no time at all for you to get comfortable with him, how it felt like an instant connection when he silently prompted the two of you to play tictactoe in the margine of your notes. something that quickly snowballed from passing messages to walking you back to your dorm, and then hang outs as his frat house.

he’s always offered himself as a stress relief for you, making sure you’re comfortable while you’re with him and pressing you about it any time that you seemed tense. there’s been a few awkward moments where you thought he’d tried making a pass at you but he’s always been quick to clarify. plus he’s so warm, like… really warm. his arms feel like a blanket around you. god, how is someone so big and bulky also so soft? you could probably fall asleep like this, surrounded by him.

“hey.” you’re pulled from your thoughts, and from where you were tucked into him. “you knocking out on me?”

“sorry.” you giggle, at his ever playful expression. “you’re just so comfortable.”

the smirk on his face is a harmless one, you think. and it’s awfully pretty.

“bakugou needs me at the beer pong table.”

“i don’t need you, fucker.” you hear the blonde shout from where he stands at the door. did he yell at him before too? “they just don’t want me to embarrass them by beating their asses by myself.”

kirishima laughs. ”you stayin’ out here?” you hesitate, but nod. you feel better, but the thought of facing his friends again so fast is a little too intimidating. “i wont let anyone come out here and fuck with you.” he squeezes your hip before chasing his friend inside. “come watch me when you’re ready!” the redhead calls to you from where he now hangs out the door, his toothy grin clear as day even from this distance.

you only wave back, your dizziness telling you it’s not a good idea to raise your voice right now.

you let yourself stumble back against the wall before pulling your phone out. you try three times to call fuzen and it immediately cancels before you realize you have no service where you’re standing. you curse under your breath as you push off the bricks and force your legs to carry you around the corner of the house. finally a full bar of service, you have to focus on the blurry phone icon while your thumb finds its way there.

why is everything so hard?

you manage to fumble your phone before you’re able to start the call. it feels like there’s a brick in your skull with how heavy your head becomes as you bend over to reach for the device. just as your finger tips touch your screen, there’s big, rough ones which grab at your hips. you don’t have time to scream before your arm is wound behind your back and used to press you against the brick of the house. you lose any hope of grabbing your phone and yelp as your chest and cheek sting at the harsh contact. your vision spins as you blink in the dim light, you can’t even make out the shape of the person behind you.

”don’t scream.” the stranger speaks in your ear, though slightly muffled, it still makes you freeze all the same. the adrenaline delays the recognition of the cold blade at your back, a knife. how were those girls killed again? you immediately nod, further scraping yours skin against the jagged edges of the brick. fear courses through your veins as he takes hold of your free arm and brings it back with the other, wrapping a large hand around both to keep them in place.

you try to plead with him when his knife moves from your back, the threat of it gone, or maybe all the alcohol making you bold enough to speak.

“i haven’t seen your face.” you whisper, hoping it was low enough for him to allow it. “you don’t have to kill me, you could just let me go.”

“let you go?” he asks, surely it’s your intoxicated mind, but he sounds genuinely confused, almost hurt by your words. “i can’t,” he mutters and you whine as your heart hammers in your chest. “i f-finally have you.” you hear the man sigh behind you before he presses his face into your neck, you can hear the echo in whatever metal he has wrapped over his face as he inhales deep against your skin and your body instantly reacts with chills shooting up your spine. “you smell so good.” he begins to pant as his free hand gropes at your body. “so m-much better than any of them did.”

“please… don’t,” you beg when he reaches your breast, where he squeezes it just enough to hurt before clumsily rubbing his fingers over your nipples through the cloth.

“but i knew you would.” he continues as if you didn’t speak, as if your words don’t matter. “you’re the b-best, the only good one, only you.”

his hand drags from your chest down to your waist where he starts to struggle with your bottoms. and your eyes begin to feel with tears at the inevitable.

“please just let me go.” you try again, hoping for just an ounce of pity. “i really won’t tell anyone.”

“i’m sorry.” his body pressed up against you, shoving you farther into the hard wall, ”i’m sorry, angel,” you finally realize just how much bigger the man is than you. “im just–i can’t stop. i need you.” his grip on your arms disappears as he opts to use his large stature to keep you pinned, with both of his hands to work your bottoms down to your knees before he’s humping against your ass. “i wanted to wait– wanted our first to be special.”

the deadweight feeling at the back of your mind aches to takeover, the dizziness, the fear, the effor it takes for you to just breathe right now it far too much, so you succumb to it all– making you completely helpless. all you can do is stand there and hope he’ll let you go once he’s had his fill. not that it’s easy, there’s bile churning in your stomach when you hear the click of his belt, feel the shuffle of him tugging his own pants down.

you have to bite your cheek to stop yourself from crying when you feel the heat of what has to be his cock prodding between your thighs. the only thing keeping any distance between its heat and your most vulnerable parts is the underwear holding the last bit of your dignity together. but once he wraps his arms around you—which squeeze you so tight you think you’ll burst— and he angles you so your hips stick back enough for him to rub between your thighs while pressing up against your cunt, you’re sure you’ll throw up regardless.

he, however, groans at the contact. “s-so warm.” you can hear him begin to pant as his hips start rhythmically pressing into yours, the force alone enough to jolt your body against the wall. “f-feel so good.” you can taste blood as you hold back your sobs. it feels like an eternity passes, each groan and inhale against your nape makes you more nauseous until your body has had enough.

being pushed too far from the fear, the drinks, and the pain, it causes you to collapse on yourself. everything seems like it fades as you fall slack in the stranger's arms. maybe if you die while unconscious, it’ll be okay. at least you won’t feel the pain.

sounds come in and out like you have bad radio service, your eyes too heavy and body too weak to get a good sense of what’s happening, but you hear—

“t-this? my girlfriend drank too much s-so i’m j-just—“ comes from somewhere around you, somewhere close.

“awww!” you hear, whiney and dragged out from some girl who definitely had more than you tonight. “you’re such a good boyfriend for babysitting.” your heart aches when you try to fight, to move, to scream and you’re far from successful.

“i wish my boyfriend let me drink that much.” if you could just tell one person what’s happening, if you could just show even a little bit of struggle, someone could save you. “you’re even carrying her! so cute!” if someone could just see your face, maybe they’d see that this is not who you arrived with, someone could tell kirishima. “you guys get home safe~!”

you feel like a boulder is set on your chest, the weight of your failure weight bearing on you when everything’s quiet again.

/// /// ///

you don’t know how much time passes before you’re able to bring yourself out of your useless state until you’re finally able to blink your eyes open and take in your surroundings. it’s all blurry at first, but the furniture in your line of sight slowly starts to resemble that of the setup you have in your room. there’s your vanity, your nightstand, this is your comforter, a weak smile works its way onto your lips.

you could cry from the relief. whatever happened, whether it was all a dream or something you won’t be able to remember, you don’t care. you’re home.

you toss your head back into your pillow, taking in a deep breath, catching the smell of what's likely your own sweat before you try to stretch your arms out, the needles stabbing into your hands making you feel the need to shake them to fix your blood flow. but they don’t budge, and the sound of metal clanking makes you shoot your eyes open and then you feel it.

your grogginess to blame for you not being able to the cuffs that encase them before. nor the sinking weight that kneels beside you, a large figure looming over you looking that much more daunting with the light behind him illuminating only his towering figure as he hunches over you, huffing and whining with his cock only inches from your face.

your lips tremble when the false sense of safety washed away and you look up past the movement of his hand, slowly taking in the dark green mess of hair that falls around his face, the chunky metallic mask that causes each of his heavy breaths to be echoed before you meet his eyes, the wide, terrifying green gaze that burns back at you makes you wish you were still unconscious.

“o-oh.” he’s so loud as he shoots out his load across your face and the bare parts of your chest, thick and hot where it lands. you cringe as your name is chanted off his lips and you squeeze your eyes and mouth closed, not wanting to let yourself be any more violated than you already feel. your head pounds as you feel the urge to cry, but you can’t seem to force yourself to.

“i didn’t—i didn’t finish earlier,” you hear him mutter above you, “and it hurt—looking at you,” a hand smoothes along your hairline, making you jump at the contact, and he retracts. “s-sorry… you’re just… so pretty.”

“can i…” he starts and you’re not sure if you’ll be able to answer if he actually asks you a question. “can i take a picture? it’ll only be for me, i promise.”

“please…” your voice is weak and you have to try and gather some spit to swallow to allow yourself any more volume. “don’t…” your request is sure to be ignored, he’s seemed to do whatever else he’s liked.

“you’re r-right,” you feel the mattress rise once he disappears from beside you, “another time.”

you try to test your voice again, you’re not sure how long it’s been since what you can last remember, but if fuzen wasn’t on patrol, he’d be in bed. if only you could scream.

“i’ll clean you up, is that o-okay?” you don’t reply, only tense when the warm cloth wipes at your skin. “sorry, again. i feel like such a pervert.”

you open your eyes again once they’re clean, and staring at your curtains, you try to think. you can’t even speak, can’t move, can’t fight. how long are you going to be so helpless?

“are you okay? i know i probably scared you…” you wish you could scoff. “could you at least look at me?”

you don’t move to face him, not wanting to look into those horrifying eyes again. just the thought of him, next to you now, staring at you with them makes you shudder with fear.

“look at me.” he grips your jaw, reminding you how big his hands are as he forces you to turn towards him. you avoid meeting his gaze. not wanting to know if it’s just as piercing as before, instead, you take in the green mess of curls, how they stick about and fall into his face. you can see him staring at you, but still, skip over making eye contact and make out the freckles at peek out from behind the metallic mask that seems to be slipping, making you close your eyes again.

if there was any small chance of you getting out of here alive, there’s no way you can see his face.

“hey–”

“your mask,” you whisper, and his grip loosens as soon as you speak.

“oh,” he mumbles back. you can hear what you guess is him toying with it, but you realize as you peek up, was him removing it. “guess i don’t need this.”

with his face fully revealed, you can feel yourself sinking into acceptance of your fate.

“you’re staring…” you can visibly see him swallow, his eyes darting between yours and the floor. “am i attractive?” a soft smile grows on his lips at him complimenting himself as if you’d really said it. “i’m happy you think so.”

“i have a roommate,” you speak, voice cracking.

“what?” his eyebrows drawn together, face set in a scowl before he pushes himself from your bed. “you need some water.”

“he’s a hero.” you try again, even as he walks away and you’re sure you’re out of earshot. “a strong one, and he’ll be home soon.” you pick your head up to watch him throw the door open, and all of your hope for your roommate saving you drains as you stare down a hallway that doesn’t belong in your apartment; you’re not home…

if you saw any typos, no you didn’t !!&lt;;33

reblogs + asks + feedback appreciated !

[ozzgin]

Hi!! Your writing it truly lovely 😭<33 If i could request anything with Zzy? Thank youuu

Yandere! Demon x Gloomy! Reader (II)

Featuring the goat-legged boy Zzy and a gloomy, newly employed detective Reader! By the way, his name is a little tribute to a series I like. Can you guess who inspired it? Hint: it's Jhonen Vasquez's first comic :D

Content: female reader, perverted goat demon yandere, dark/crass humor!, monster romance, mildly NSFW

[Part 1] [Monster masterlist]

The detective man, at the very least, kept his word. The pay is good, and you barely have any work to do. The jobs themselves are similarly not too challenging: so far you haven’t had to deal with any murder mystery out of an Agatha Christie novel. Rather, most of the time, it’s someone asking you to investigate their cheating partner, or sending you to do a background check for an employee. Every now and then you’ll get the odd client, but that’s something for another day.

Your boss isn’t all that bad either. You were initially quite hesitant to be alone in the room with him. He always seems to be surrounded by an eerie, dark aura, and you’ve only seen him smile in a menacing, villainous way. Now you’ve gotten used to his strangeness. In fact, it’s almost comforting. There’s something refreshing about another human being honest about their misery. He seems to be just as uninterested in this job as you are, spending most of his time reading at his desk. Despite his unkempt, scary appearance, he's pleasant enough and looks after you. Which, now that you think about it, is a little suspicious. You've seen him act around other people: curt and to the point, disinterested, even potentially rude. With demons, he's ruthless.

"Have you had lunch yet?" the man asks, standing up and dusting his knees. "I can get us something."

You nod and flash him a flaccid smile, although you can't help but ask:

"Listen, aren't you being a little too nice? I mean, I'm not complaining...but I've seen how you behave in general, and I have a hard time coming up with a reason for my special treatment."

He ponders your question for a moment, before his sunken eyes look ahead, somewhere behind you.

"Well…If I’m being honest, you’re kind of pathetic, aren't you? I’m just a little worried that if I’m too harsh, I’ll find out you hanged yourself in your apartment or something. Not that I’d care, but if you’re gone, I’m the one stuck with…that thing.”

Ah. That’s what it was. Almost immediately, a shiver runs across your spine.

“(Y/N)! Are you done yet? I’m booooooored”, a prolonged whine erupts from the neighboring chamber.

“I’m about to have lunch, actually. Do you want any-”

“You know I do! Spread those legs and I can start”, the goat demon declares with a grin, clacking his hooves in your direction.

You sigh.

Of course. Months ago, you were tricked into signing a lifelong contract with Zzy. It was the detective’s way of washing his hands off the matter and warmly welcoming you into the agency. It makes sense that he'd treat you with utmost care, otherwise he'd have to deal with this pest from Hell once again.

How's your life with Zzy going?

You've since found a way to seal your bedroom, in order to avoid waking up with his groping hands under your sheets. Sadly, the stubborn creature keeps finding ways to bypass your safety measurements. Who would’ve thought that lust is such a powerful driving force?

On top of the nightly shenanigans, you obviously have to deal with him during the day, at the agency. “Listen, it’s like…one of those fidget toys. It helps with stress”, he explains fervently while pointing at your chest. “You want me to do my work properly, don’t you?” He concludes theatrically. “You’re not holding my boobs. This is the end of the conversation.”

If you’re having a bad day, it won’t go unnoticed. “Boy, what a smell, what a delicacy. You’re even more miserable than usual”, Zzy will exclaim, throwing his hands together in a graceful prayer. “You know what the best medicine is? A quick fuck. Let me pound that sadness out of you, eh?”

Despite his constant clowning, the demon does have moments of clarity. He becomes particularly serious when jealous. “What have you done?” You shout in despair, gawking at the client - now morphed into a pig - foaming at the mouth and running around the room. “He was staring at your ass. Only I can do that.” The horned man stands proud, arms crossed, nodding at his own courageous act. His most treasured belonging has been defended once more.

As expected, the jealous curse has gotten both of you into time-out. Zzy because he cursed the client in the first place, and you - despite your protests - because you didn't stop him in time. "Can't you wear something easier to take off? It takes two business days to unbutton this crap", the demon complains as he fiddles with your shirt. You're laying on the sofa, hands behind your head, gazing at the clock on the wall and counting the minutes passing. Unbothered, compliant. The peacefulness of someone who's given up. "Zipper is to the left", you add, aiding the process.

Another irritating detail is that the damned beast can detect the slightest arousal coming from you, and will make sure to announce it loudly, regardless of who is around. "Someone's horny! Whew, getting me all worked up, too." You slap a hand over his mouth, a deep red blush rapidly spreading across your cheeks. You turn to the detective and apologize profusely, but he remains unconcerned, flipping another page. "Let me take care of her first, Mr. Detective", Zzy manages to mumble through your pressed fingers. "As long as you get the task done", your boss responds plainly, never bothering to look up from his book.

"You should visit me down there sometimes", the horned creature suddenly mentions, his head resting in your lap as you idly browse your phone. You stop to glance down at him. "In Hell, you mean?" He snickers at the thought. "No one believes me when I tell them I have a human girlfriend. I need concrete proof, ya feel me?" You raise an eyebrow. "Girlfriend?" He disregards your inquiry and continues: "At least give me a pair of your panties to take back home." Absolutely not.

"Were you this much of a menace before I showed up?"

"What's that supposed to mean?! You can't blame a demon for being in love."

You sigh once more and roll over.

"Does that mean we can go for round two~?" Zzy is grinning at his own suggestion.

"Just go to sleep. Or something."

[hobicakess]

PLAYING DANGEROUS — (teaser)

summary: It's been almost three years since Jack in the box was caught, and no one could make him talk. No one knew his story, and what drove him to become the monster he was today. That is until you're assigned your first story. What makes you so lucky?

rating: 18+ (I'm not your mother you're in control of what you consume)

pairings: Journalist!Reader x Criminal!JungHoseok x CEO!Kim Namjoon x Detective!MinYoongi.

warnings: smut murder, blood and gore, Jack In The Box Hobi, corruption, workplace abuse, yandere characters, possessive/obsessive behavior, dubcon, short hair namjoon (yes that's a warning), black/plus sized coded reader, violence from every single aspect, police brutality, mircoagression towards woc, lawyer kim seokjin, maknae helping cause chaos, manipulation, drugs and addiction, unhinged serial killer hobi (joker vibes tbh) , yoongi hates his job, namjoon loves his job (he gets to piss you off everyday)

authors note: howdy hotties! this fic was heavily inspired by this post, i don't think it'll be 30 chapters but something about it just spoke to me and itched my writer brain. even though the mc is black coded anyone can read ofc!! I can't wait to write for this series. if you'd like a tag pls comment below. Reblogs are appreciated and check out my other works (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)

part one

There was a manic laughter that echoed through the new station. The giggles caused shivers and goosebumps to pass through everybody in the building simply because that laughter was familiar. The sounds were admitting from the little black box that sat on your desk. In horror you and your peers that happened to be close by watch the little black clown that popped from graffiti painted the box swing animatedly back and forth. Everyone in Korea knew this clown and what it meant.

“Mr.Kim is not seeing anyone right-” you push the secretary out your way causing her to stumble on her kitten heels and she watches you stomp your way into her bosses and yours office. The door opens wide slamming against the wall causing the booksvon the shelves to tremble, some even tumbling to the floor.

There he sat Kim Namjoon. He stared at you with his eyebrow raised. Some of the buttons of his black dress shirt were unbuttoned, the glass at his side was filled with brown liquid and even more books and papers laid out messily on his desk. .

With as much force as you could you throw the giggling box at him. The impact smacking him hard on the chest but with his build you were sure that it didn't do a thing. He held it in his hands flipping it over clicking an unknown button, shutting the gut wrenching sound shut off.

“ You told me if I took this story I'd be safe,*

Namjoon sighs as if you were speaking nonsense and not about life or death. “Let's be clear here you agreed to take this story when I only simply suggested it. Besides what makes you think Jack sent this?” He was right.

Maybe your coworkers thought I'd be funny to freak you out a little more since taking on the Clown killer case, still it was a sick joke that you didn't really find funny.

“Jack is locked in a maximum security prison surrounded by guards, and guns. He's not getting out anytime soon.”

The door swung open again and there stood his assistant. “Mr.Kim turned the news on!”

Grabbing the remote he clicks on the TV that was mounted on the wall of his office. The screen lights up showing a familiar smoking building. Your heart began to speed up in rhythm as you stare at the headline

Serial killer Jack In The Box escapes from Hangsang Maximum security prison

The screen flicks again to the dark red writings on the wall that used to be his cell.

‘See you soOn honey bunches 🃏’

And that was the last thing you saw before you tumble to the ground.

©hobicakesss , please don't repost or steal my work. don't be a loser

[justanotherarmyfangirl]

Dark&Wild (6) His Obsession

You are an interpreter for international idols, but you soon realized their lavish lifestyle came at a cost, and somehow you became the price. The man who came to collect had a special kind of vendetta, and you, so foolishly, sparked his interest.

In this story Yoongi is the villain and you will hate him! Everyone else, well, the question becomes not if there are good guys or who will save you, but how will you save yourself?

yandere loan shark!Yoongi x blind!reader x bodyguard!Jungkook x idol singer!Jimin x idol rapper!Namjoon x idol singer!Taehyung x detective!Hoseok x detective!Seokjin

TW: 18+ only, dubcon/noncon, mental torment, physical torture, mind break, violence, Stockholm syndrome, reader is blinded before events that take place in the story, Jimin is an addict, Yoongi is a sadist, voyeur, fingering.

---

Alone in the bath was your favorite time. 

The warm water felt nice on your aching muscles, the relaxing smell of lavender helped calm your anxieties. 

You massage the suds into your skin, listening to the trickle of water, wondering where in this massive place your captor, Min Yoongi, might be right now. With your luck, he’s already in his bedroom, waiting for you.

HIS OBSESSION

You hated how even now, finally alone, you still thought of him. You couldn’t escape him, he was with you even when he wasn’t, and you feared no matter what happened in the future, you would never be able to get away, he would always be there, an irritating voice in the back of your head, low and raspy, taunting you. 

You were almost grateful you couldn’t see him, you couldn’t stand the thought of his face imprinted behind your eyelids, in your dreams like the way his touches were, the heat of his palm against your skin, against your throat, against your hip-

Min Yoongi…I’ll kill you…

You clenched your jaw in anger, ignoring everything else you felt when you thought of him. When he…

When Yoongi fucked you the white hot rage you felt deep in your chest and the heat of his unforgivable arousal in the pit of your stomach almost became indistinguishable. When you thought of those moments when he was on top of you, and the scorch of his tongue, the searing stretch in between your legs, it made everything inside you feel heavy, feel burning. 

It must be a sickness, the way your head feels hot every time you think of it, of him.

You sink lower and kick your feet out of frustration, splashing the water over the tub’s rim.

It’s quiet. There’s a small low voice that reminds you again, it’s been months now and you haven’t seen or heard of Taehyung, or anyone at all.

There’s a lingering thought to drown yourself as you splash aimlessly, and another defiant angry voice that screams you should be drowning Yoongi instead.

Oh you’ve tried to. 

To cope with your circumstances you rationalized, he was going to take what he pleases from you anyways, punish you for your continual combativeness, might as well give him a good reason to do it. Still, no matter what you do, overpowering the loan shark never works. 

So damn disappointing. 

You still remember the time you had stayed here until your toes and fingers became wrinkly, refusing to leave until Yoongi grabbed at you and you pulled him right into this nice large deep bathtub of his. 

After the initial shock wore off he easily overpowered you, took advantage of your slippery wet nakedness and fucked you like you hadn’t just tried to murder him. 

That time he wasn’t even mad you had soaked his designer suit, you remember how you could hear the smile behind his mocking words while you choked on soapy water, “If you wanted me to join you, you could have just asked.”

You almost managed to drown him again when he came, if you hadn’t needed to breathe as well.

You let the water slosh over the tub’s edge, dunking yourself under the bubbles.

And scream.

You don’t hear the knock on the door, too busy wallowing in your own lavender scented misery. A hand pulls on your shoulder, lifting your head before you can inhale water.

“What?!” you splutter, wiping your face.

“I…” Jungkook clears his throat, looking away from your nakedness, letting his initial worries subside. “You shouldn’t do that,” he mutters.

“Towel,” you say simply. Not in the mood to argue, you stand up. With Yoongi, you are used to his leering presence. He’s already seen every bit of you, and loves reminding you about it when he wants to make you feel humiliated. And now you’ve kind of let your indifference about your body extend to Jungkook as well. You knew he wasn’t going to try anything like the others might have, plus, you enjoy making the henchman stutter.

You feel soft fabric plop against your front, catching it before it falls into the tub. “Hold my shoulder so you don’t slip,” he says.

The edge of the towel exposes the side of you as Jungkook moves your hand to his shoulder. “I need-” His hand wraps around your soaking back, pulling you out of the tub and placing you on tile in one swift motion. “-t-thanks.” 

Jungkook hands you a silk robe, a pink short kimono style Yoongi chose for you that Jungkook already knows you’re not going to like. He can’t help but chuckle when he hears you groan, muttering about the thin article of clothing. You turn your head in his direction but you don’t comment on it. 

Jungkook leans in the doorway, hands in his pockets, waiting for you. 

He’s to deliver you to Mr. Min. 

Everyone has good and bad days, today is one of your better days, and also one of Mr. Min’s bad days. He’s had to kill someone, and that means, Min Yoongi is not getting his money and that pisses him off more than anything. That also means with almost certainty Yoongi is going to make today one of your bad days. 

Jungkook tries not to think about it as he listens as you hum contently, knowing what’s to come. He glances over at you. Jungkook tries to give you some modesty, but he’s still a man, and a curious one at that. He chooses to ignore that old saying as his eyes linger on your naked body as you dry yourself. As long as he doesn’t touch…

“Have you seen Tae?”

Jungkook might have ignored the question, he has ignored your questioning when it came to such matters, but he feels sorry for you, for what’s to come, and so, in hopes that you won’t let your day be ruined, Jungkook answers.

“Yeah, he came to one of our establishments the other night.”

“Really? Alone? Did you talk to him?”

“He was alone. Usually Mr. Park joins him, but not in a while,” Not since we took you. “He drank,” and fucked a prostitute, but Jungkook decides to leave that out. 

“Did he,” you pause, “Did he ask about me?”

You sound so hopeful. 

“Yes,” Jungkook says, still waiting by the door.

“He did?” you sound so excited, so happy. Perhaps if you had let his words sink in, you could have noticed the hesitation in his voice. “What did he say? Did you tell him what I told you?”

“He wanted to know how you were being cared for, that he and the others miss you.” Jungkook lies, telling you what he thinks you most want to hear. 

You stay quiet and he wonders if you see through his lies. “Did you tell him?”

“I wasn’t able to, Mr. Min was right there. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay, next time.” You sound so hopeful, pleased, grateful to him. Jungkook never promised he would tell Taehyung anything for you, and he doubts that coward would do anything with the information if he did. But you still try, asking him sweetly every time, never getting mad when Jungkook gives you another excuse. Your hopes are too high, and Jungkook can’t be the one to destroy them.

You smile in his general direction. You can’t see him, so he lets himself smile back.

-

“We watch and bet, it’s just a couple of us that do it.”

“I want to listen! You have to let me!”

“You really like soccer that much?” Jungkook asks.

“Yes! The announcers are so animated! I can get the jist of it, and our company would hold these big parties on game day and get chicken and beer, just feeling everyone’s energy was so much fun.”

“Um I don't think it will be the same-”

“You telling me gangsters don’t know how to party?”

Jungkook laughs. “Okay okay, I’ll see.”

You laugh happily.

Yoongi can hear your laughter. It’s melodic and pleasant. However Jeon Jungkook’s laughter? Mixing with your own, tainting it? 

Yoongi’s short temper has already hit its fuse.

He watches your shadows before you enter the room and the way the larger shadow moves away slightly before you enter. You grip Jungkook’s bicep with one hand and hold his forearm with the other, using both hands, overly touchy…overly affectionate. Yoongi clears his throat. 

Jungkook leads you to the loan shark, until you are standing by Yoongi’s side. Only then does Jungkook leave you to take his spot on Yoongi’s other side.

You’re in his office, you presume. Your thigh hits the hard oak of his desk. Yoongi taps his phone. “Translate this.” He plays an audio. The volume is very low, you crouch down to hear it clearer.

“They were talking about their wives,” you frown. 

Fucking pigs, you think, and you hope their wives leave them.

Yoongi cracks his knuckles. “That’s it?”

“They were talking about their wives’…private parts,” you cross your arms, disgusted. “I rather not go into detail.”  

“Hmm, I thought they were going to double cross me.” He finally relaxes, pulling your body closer, he sets you into his lap.

You’ve learned a few things about Yoongi, the biggest revelation was that he was extremely paranoid. “Well they still could,” you note, poking at his paranoia. You lean your back against him, just to feel more comfortable, “but no, that conversation was not about that.” 

“We’re going back to Japan at the end of the month.” You stiffen in his hold. “Tokyo this time, we’ll be staying for a few weeks.”

“Two weeks? Are you setting up another parlor?”

“Close,” Yoongi clicks his tongue, amused by your curiosity of his dealings. “We have a few host bars there, just checking in. There are some regulars with high tabs we’re going to be…visiting. Need you there.”

You exhale, fingers fiddling with the string of your robe, “Okay.” 

Translating for a bunch of blubbering business men begging for forgiveness, or a longer extension, or just another chance at life, was such a stark contrast from the bubbly television interviews you used to do. 

But there was always a fakeness during press junkets that you really hated. All of it felt like such a shallow performance, and it made you feel like a circus animal at times, putting on a show, no matter how offensive the question, no matter how you felt, you had to smile and translate with a happy face. 

Hell, there’s no superficiality around you now, even if Yoongi’s targets sure put on a performance…

Traveling with the loan shark really showed you how dark the depths of humanity could sink. There was rawness and realness to the underground scene that you could just feel in the air, swirling amongst the cigarette smoke.

No bullshitting, no pleasantries, straight to business. It was one of the few things you didn’t actually hate about this predicament you were in, the few moments where you felt like you had some power. 

You were the voice of the most powerful man in the room, and by extension that meant your voice held power. The men in the room would, sometimes quite literally, be hanging on your next words.

If you didn’t like the men you were translating for, you weren’t afraid to make it obvious to the loan shark in your translations, and he would seem to punish them harsher for it. It’s happened so many times now that it was no longer a coincidence to you.

Now if only he would listen to you on other matters…

Yoongi drapes his hand over your front, under the opening in your robe. You don’t flinch like before, what’s the point in flinching? Yoongi will just grab at you tighter, make it hurt if you do.

“You smell good.” Yoongi’s nose tickles your neck.

You cough. “I just took a bath.”

He runs his hand across your suppleness, pinching your nipple.

He knows you are holding it in, staying quiet to spite him, it’s amusing to him, so he continues to play with you, letting your robe open wider and wider until he hears someone clear their throat.

Jungkook turns to leave.

“Jeon, stay.”

Jungkook was wrong. 

Yoongi wasn’t going to take out his anger on you.

He was going to take it out on him. 

“Why are you doing this?” you mutter, not used to an audience. Usually Yoongi isolates you to his bedroom when he’s home and he’s surprisingly quite professional when you’re out in company, even if everyone knew what he did to you behind closed doors.

“He is not bothered,” Yoongi turns his chair so he and you are facing Jungkook, “Are you, Jeon?” he asks the young gangster. He yanks one of your legs open.

“No.” It’s flat. It’s a lie. Jungkook knows Yoongi doesn’t want to hear the truth.

“Well I fucking mind!” 

You yell when he grabs you by the neck. “You don’t have to always do what he says, you know. You’re not like me,” you swallow, speaking to Jungkook. You’re not weak like me, you imply.

“Hohoho.” Yoongi laughs. “Hear that, want to rebel against your mean old boss, Jeon?” he hums. “Did you ever think all those nice things our Jungkookie does for you is because I ask him to? To keep an eye on you, you do your job better when you’re not a mopey brat. You should be on your knees thanking me for giving you a friend.”

“Fuck you.”

“What did you say? Say that louder.”

You stay quiet, head down.

“I could have made him be the one to dole out your punishments. Jungkook is skilled with a knife. He has a taste for blood, did you know that? People call him The Maestro…when we need someone to sing, we send him. After enough time, there's a certain pitch everyone gets to, of screaming. His favorite method is fileting his victims until they sing that tune. You know what that means? Pulling the skin back until you see muscle.” You shiver when he runs his fingertips across your arm. “That’s the kind of man he is.” Your stomach flips at his words. 

“Every bit of kindness is because of me.”

“I know,” you mutter.

“SO YOU SHOULD BE THANKING ME.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

“Can I go, Sir?” Jungkook speaks up.

“No. Stay right there,” he says, undoing the tie around your waist. “Jeon, like what you see?”

“No.” Jungkook knew better than to ever admit he had grown fond of what Yoongi deemed was his.

“No? But she’s pretty,” he says, uncovering everything, pulling your legs open wider. “And so tight.”

You cry out, wanting nothing more than to attack the loan shark for putting you on display like this, and it takes every ounce of restraint to not fight him…to not close your legs...

“Feel for yourself, touch her.”

“Sir?” Jungkook looks very displeased at being roped into this. 

“Come here and touch her.” Yoongi waits and smiles as he watches Jungkook hesitantly step closer. 

“Please, don’t,” you whimper.

“I thought you would enjoy this. Since you are so close now, chit-chatting and making jokes all the time, hm? Don’t you ever think about-” Yoongi puts his hand between your legs, “-what it would be like? You can’t see, but our Jungkookie is very handsome.” Yoongi’s lips brush against your ear.

“I only think about ways to please you, Sir,” you grit out very unconvincingly. 

Yoongi laughs. “You don’t want Jungkook to touch you like this?” 

You try to ignore the pressure of his fingers inside you. You couldn’t bring yourself to confirm such a thing in front of the young gangster, so you admit something just as horrible. “Just you, I just want you.”

Yoongi presses his lips against yours, so forcefully you feel your teeth knock against his and you yelp, pushing him away, clearly disgusted. 

You can’t hide your hatred for him when he does that, when he kisses you like that. Even with his hands groping you, fingering you, kissing Yoongi just feels worse, feels wrong.

Yoongi grabs your chin, pulling your head back to him. Yoongi eyes the man in front of him whose gaze hasn’t left a particular painting on his wall. Jungkook refuses to look at you like this.

That just won’t do.

“You know what I think? I think someone has a little crush. And I know it’s not you,” he murmurs in your ear.

Jungkook glances over to his boss. He has you spread over his legs, his fingers pressed deep inside your cunt as you shake against him. 

“You’ll say whatever sweet little words you can think of to worm your way in my mens’ good graces, so convinced they will help you escape eventually,” he says. Yoongi manages to keep the tempo in his ministrations precise, pressing into you deeper, thumb circling your clit in such a mind numbing way you feel like your body is catching fire.

“Why would I try something so stupid?” you grunt.

“They won’t betray me, you know.”

“Oh, I know. How nice it must be for you,” you mock. “How many men did you say you have killed for crossing you again?”

Yoongi’s temper rises as you hit a nerve for him. He pushes you off his lap, and you fall at Jungkook’s feet, knees scraping against Yoongi’s hard wood flooring.

You lean against Jungkook, curled into yourself, pulling your robe closed.

Yoongi watches as you move closer to Jungkook like a scared child looking for comfort. “Jeon, punish her.” He stands up, anger overflowing. “Hurt her, since that’s what she seems to want instead. NOW!” he yells.

Jungkook looks down at you and sighs exasperatedly. 

There are a million and one different things a man could do to a woman to hurt her…

What will Jungkook pick?

Jungkook lifts you to your feet by your hair, making you cry out in pain. He ignores it, whatever he is feeling. He’s done it so many times it’s come natural: dissociating from the situation.

“It’s okay, do it, I don’t blame you.”

Goddammit, Jungkook inwardly curses. Don’t you see how much worse you are making it for yourself? Why did you say that? To make Jungkook feel better about this frustrating situation he’s in? Jungkook doesn’t have any feelings…

Yoongi raises his brow and grinds his teeth, crossing his arms, waiting impatiently for Jungkook to do something.

Jungkook releases you and for a fleeting moment you believed he was going to refuse.

In that moment you actually believed he would go against Yoongi.

In that moment you were relieved.

And then you felt a stinging across your cheek, so hard you toppled over.

“Not her face!”

Before you can cry out, a fierce kick into your stomach knocks the wind out of you, once, then twice more. Jungkook has to make sure Yoongi sees he doesn’t care about what happens to you.

You bring your knees into your body and cradle your head, not knowing where Jungkook might strike next. You're sure he’s pulling his punches for you, but holy shit it hurts, and you can’t imagine just how strong he really is. You shake from head to toe, and finally your muscles decompress and you’re able to inhale and catch your breath.

You roll over on your back, waiting for what’s next as you take in deep breaths. Jungkook grips your robe, lifting your body.

This isn’t going how either men want. Jungkook stands over over, staring at the blood dripping from your lip, frozen in place. Yoongi can see the remorse twisting in Jungkook’s expression and how you are taking the beating in strides, lips pressed together in determination. 

You are an exceptionally annoying martyr. You sacrificed yourself for Jimin and now, Yoongi now sees with a sick realization, you think you are doing it for Jungkook. His Jungkook.

“Jeon…” Yoongi looks down at you, clenching his fist. “...leave.”

Yoongi will make you regret this. The loan shark really couldn’t help himself. It was going to be him and no one else…

Jungkook looks back one last time before closing the door, and sees a glimpse of your glowering expression as his boss stands over you and pulls off his jacket. Jungkook was always calm, always collected, yet in that moment, his heart rate jumps.

-

Yoongi got what he wanted in the end, Jungkook was keeping his distance from you now, ignoring you almost completely when he was around.

You’re annoyed, stuck having to listen to your new “handler” Jon explain in excruciating detail his recent trip to Phuket. He’s the only other one of Yoongi’s men you can stand to be around for extended periods of time, but if you have to listen to another pun involving fornication in Phuket you’re going to jam something in your eardrums!

“What about you?”

“What about me?” you hum bored.

“...so, miss y/n. I have to confess, I did some research on you after what we talked about,” he lowers his voice. “You’re kind of a celebrity. Can I have your autograph?”

You laugh. “Shut up! JTJ are the celebrities, I was just along for the ride,” you pausing. “Any recent headlines that I might be interested in?”

“Well, the hot news is that JTJ have postponed their next album.”

“Really? I wonder why,” you ask, concerned. “Have, um, are there any articles about…what happened?”

“Nothing, only a forum thread between their fans speculating if you got fired. Boss man really worked his magic.”

You sigh, flopping over on the couch.

“Jon, any chance you’d drop me off at the corner store no questions asked?” You have begged to be released so many times now your enthusiasm has all dried up.

“Sorry honey, but I intend to live a long life.”

You snort. “As a gangster? Good luck.”

“Ha!” Jon goes uncharacteristically quiet. “How much did you say that debt of your boy was?”

You snort at the implication that Jimin, the elusive idol, was in any way ‘yours.’ “Eight billion won, something like that,” you huff.

You suspect Jon’s wincing as he sharply inhales. “Ahh shit.”

“Yeah, shit.” You change the subject. “You coming to Japan with us this time?”

“That I am!”

“Wonderful,” you say, emotionless.

“Now about that autograph.”

“You’re joking-” you cough out surprised.

“I printed out a picture and everything!”

“You’re ridiculous!” you laugh. Your fingers run over a piece of paper Jon places in your hands. “What picture?” you ask unable to contain your amusement.

“Well, there was an interview in France, you’re wearing a bright orange dress, looking like a real bigshot, I took a screenshot of it.”

“Orange, really?” you grimace, you never really questioned what coordinators put you in and it’s not like you could see yourself but you still had pride in your appearance.

“You looked nice, you match the others.”

“JTJ?” you perk up.

“Yep, well…I cropped them out.”

You giggle. You hold the picture in your hands delicately. You wish you could see the photo, see how you look now and how you might have fit in with them.

“Yeah, I’ll sign it, you weirdo.”

A pen is placed in your hands. Any other day you would have thought to jam it in your eye and end it all. Today, you try your best to scribble your name down for Jon and feel like your old self.

---

“What’s this?”

“You don’t recognize them?”

“I do, but-” You believed Yoongi had destroyed all your things in his anger. “You kept them?” You rummage through a whole box of your books that Yoongi has unceremoniously dropped at your feet. 

“Yes. Here, some new books for you too.” Yoongi drops a few clean and crisp books into your lap, the pages not bent and worn from multiple readings like yours were. 

You want to question why now all of a sudden, but you were too afraid the temperamental man might take your questioning wrongly and take away his gift as quickly as he gave it to you.

“Thank you, Yoongi.”

“Pick one and come with me.” You let him lead you. You suspect he did this because you’ve become practically mute around him, refusing to speak to him until your trip to Japan.

Who knew the silent treatment would actually work. You hold the book close to your chest while Yoongi drives. It’s a long drive, you try to keep track of every turn and stop but it’s impossible. 

“What place is this?” It didn’t smell like smoke or alcohol or sweat, the regular scents that usually assaulted you when you went out with the loan shark. It smelled like…baked bread.

“Just read your book.” Yoongi leads you to a cushioned seat and hands you a drink, and when you place the straw to your lips you sip on something sweet and milky, a rich coffee concoction. Yoongi sits next to you, clears his throat and doesn’t say another word.

You flip through the first pages of your book. Is this some business thing…or is this another trick… You remembered the last time you felt disarmed like this.

You remain stiff, sipping on your coffee and slowly reading. The sounds and chatter around you could only mean you’re in a cafe. There’s thousands of cafes just in the city alone, who knows where you could be. Yoongi’s arm rests on the seat behind you, his fingers touching your shoulder every couple of minutes to remind you of his presence, as if you could ever forget him. 

You finish another page, flipping the paper. “Is there…someone I know around?” you ask, trying to sound uninterested, thinking this really was a scenario like last time.

“No, but if there was, what do you think you’re going to do?” He sounds just as uninterested.

“I’ll scream-”

Yoongi’s lips brush across your cheek. “Then I’ll kill him. Not now, but I will kill him.” He leans back again. “Maybe I just wanted a croissant, this place has the best in Seoul. Want to try?”

You grunt, too confused to do anything else but open your mouth when he puts the half eaten pastry to your lips. It’s flaky and buttery with rich custard and burnt sugar on the top, it really is one of the best desserts you’ve ever eaten.

Part of you almost played along. You were about to just succumb to whatever this was, an odd date between the two of you, and suck it up and enjoy yourself. You almost reached out to him, you almost thanked him.

“If you think doing this will make me hate you any less-”

“You are so very stubborn-”

“You are the most stubborn!” You hiss back, “I don’t understand you. I don’t want to be here with you, I don’t want to be around you- s-stop…” Yoongi grips your hand, thumb rubbing circles along your palm, and doesn’t stop even when you go quiet. 

“Just drink your coffee and enjoy your book,” he says. His deep voice holds none of his usual berating tone. You wouldn’t dare call it soft, but...

“Why am I here?” you persist.

“Didn’t you tell my men you wanted to go out? That you missed going to places like cafes?” You bite your tongue. Jon is such a snitch. “We can do this again, we can do this as many times you want-”

“The ruthless gangster will spend his precious time at cafes for me?” you ask suspiciously.

“Is that what you want?”

You didn't know if this was what you wanted, being with him, was it really better than being stuck in his home alone? At least this meant you might have a chance at getting away…

“How long do I get?” You finally relax into your seat, opening your book again.

Yoongi smirks. “We’ll see, I am in no rush today.”

Yoongi watches you read, glancing every once in a while and then staring at nothing else but you, unable to look away as you run your fingers along each page, slow at times and fast at other times, like you were trying to get to the end of the scene quickly, your lips would curl up and you would sit up straighter in excitement, and then your movements would slow and your fingers would go over a line once more as you quietly laughed to yourself. 

You had your head down at first, then you looked up and far away, as if you were imagining the story in front of you. Yoongi wondered what it was exactly that you would think of, how much could you still remember by your own memory. 

“I can feel you staring,” you huff, turning in his direction.

“Not me,” he grunts, lying.

“Ah,” you hum, head tilting, “Well, they will do that, or try to completely ignore me. There’s never really an in between with strangers I’ve noticed. I guess it’s a good thing I can’t see them staring… Two good eyes and can’t mind their own business,” you mutter. 

“Lucky for me, I’m sure you would call them out, probably try to start a fight.”

You snort. Eventually your fingers slowed to a stop and you dogeared the page, closing the book. You picked up your glass and finished the drink, ice now melted to the coffee and watering down the strong flavor. Shame, you liked it strong.

“Ready to go home?”

You looked anxious over the question. You tightened your grip on your glass. “We really came just to go to a cafe, no other places you had to go?” you ask suspiciously.

Yoongi crosses his arms. Of course, you would suspect ulterior motives from him, but this time, the loan shark really did not have any other preoccupations, he only wanted to see how you would react out in public with him like this, if you could be trusted with some freedom. You were not falling into line as the other men did, but you did seem more…tame.

He tests you. “Actually, we are going to make a stop at one of my clubs. Lets go.” You seem to relax at that, like you’ve just guessed the right answer to a question asked of you, like you knew all along Yoongi wasn’t really doing this just for you, but for him, confirming he was still the selfish loan shark you had grown to know.

“That was quick,” you deflate when Yoongi steps back into the car after reaching the location to his club. You were building up the courage to try to test the door before he was already back and starting the car. As Yoongi drove in silence there was a nagging inside you, a question you did not want to know the answer to when he had told you, you did not need to actually come inside with him. It sat in the pit of your stomach and flipped around when his hand moved to your leg and rested on your thigh. Did he really just want to go to a cafe with you after all? What did Yoongi want from you?

---

“What are you doing?”

You flinch, removing your hand off of Yoongi’s jaw. You didn’t know he had woken up.

“Trying to kill me in my sleep?” Yoongi grunts.

“Yes,” you say. It was a lie, you both knew it. You don’t know why you did it, or perhaps you just did not want to admit it. 

You had woken up with him tangled around you, your naked bodies interweaved together under sheets, his skin against yours warm. It was not overbearing, it was an inviting heat, enveloping you. 

You woke up still groggy from sleep and you didn’t think about how much you hated the man who was holding you softly. 

You reached out and touched him just to feel a little less lonely. You’ve felt so alone now without the few interactions from Jungkook you had grown so accustomed to. The loneliness, it had become gnawing at you horribly, and it was a cruel irony Yoongi was the only one who was able to lessen it for you.

Yoongi grunts and rolls on top of you. His hands wrap around your wrists as he lifts himself up to look at you. He studies your unease. You can feel his morning wood pressing against you. You hold your breath, expecting him to continue from last night’s activities, but he doesn’t, just drops down, letting go of your wrists, resting his head against your naked chest, deciding to go back to sleep. It surprises you. Yoongi must be tired…

You don’t know what to do with your hands, so you just keep them beside your head as you listen to his steady breathing.

You want to go back to sleep, so you don’t think about him…

So you don’t have to think about how you want to hold him…

The need twists in your gut, makes you queasy, makes you want to cry out in frustration, but you just lay there, unwilling to accept the same man who was causing you this turmoil was also simultaneously bringing you a comfort.

You will yourself to fantasize about ways to kill him instead, but your fantasies don’t seem to bring you as much joy as before, instead there is another unfamiliar twisting in your stomach, a pain stabbing you right in the center where he is laying.

And eventually you do fall asleep under his embrace.

-

“Anything else, Sir?”

Yoongi goes through the folder of photos his associate has handed to him. He holds up one in particular, studying the couple in front of him. “Find out more about her, the new girl. Get in close, use your charm,” he smirks. He holds the photo under the light of his lamp. Even if the picture is a bit grainy, the discoloration right under the sleeve of her shirt is unmistakable.

Jungkook, positioned at his right side, leans over. “So this is him?” 

“Mhm,” Yoongi hums, grin widening.

If Jungkook had any protests or questions, he didn’t speak them. It wouldn’t have changed the loan shark’s mind anyways. When blood is in the water, a shark can only think of one thing.

He flips through more photos, choosing ones in a different folder already on his desk. Very old photos, photos of a younger brighter face version of yourself. These photos you kept in an album tucked away in the back of your closet, in a box with your old wedding ring and other memories you weren’t able to part with, hoping someday you will be able to flip through the pages again with new working eyes. Then you could decide what memories deserve to be revisited and what memories deserve to be burned.

You must have liked swimming, there’s many photos of yourself at the beach with friends. Bowling and roller blading, activities you enjoyed in the past, told a story of the person you were before you lost your vision. Yoongi stares at the candid shots of you, staring at your eyes.

Other than the obvious, Yoongi notes there is something vastly different about you now. 

Yoongi likes you better now.

The younger version of you stares at him with light behind her eyes. You still have that, the light is just burning, glowing in you like embers. 

As a kid, Yoongi liked to poke at fires, stir the embers with a stick and watch the flames dance. When the fire would roar and crackle and burst bigger as a gust of wind blew the flames, and others would instinctively step back, Yoongi would instinctively step closer, mesmerized. 

He would feel that similar pull, that instinctive desire to be closer when that fire inside you would blaze and try to scorch him.

There are moments when you burn so bright, held tight in his arms. It was so hot, it was addicting feeling you. It was becoming something he needed, after a long day of dealing with frustratingly stupid people, dull and boring people, people like a Park Jimin, sheltered and coddled, weak fires that, in Yoongi’s opinion, deserved to be snuffed out.

Not like you. You were an inferno. 

After months with him you were becoming fevered as well, ignited by his stroking of you, his fingers around you and inside you. You would burn for him so prettily when he filled your heat and tightened his grip on you. 

There are moments when you let your instincts take over, when your pleasure is mounting, and he is angling his hips into you steadily and stroking your heat so perfectly, building you up to the point where you don’t think and don’t feel exactly how you wish, when you dig your nails into his arms, wrap your legs tight around his hips, when you don’t resist his heated kisses, when you kiss him back….

Those nights, he can taste you fully, sweet and soft and so hot. 

Like fire, it’s dangerous kissing you. 

Yoongi is becoming obsessed. 

He picks up his ledger, going back to business, the photos of you still scattered across his desk. Jungkook tries to keep his eyes from wandering, but he is a curious man. 

“Should I get y/n for you?” Jungkook suddenly asks. He wants a reason, he wants an excuse…

“No,” Yoongi mutters, “let her rest.”

-

Now when Yoongi leaves you alone, he doesn’t lock you in his room, he is becoming lax with you finally. Perhaps he thinks you have really given up, that his methods have finally chained you mentally enough that he no longer needed real chains. 

His mistake. The loan shark rarely makes them, but in your case, he’s had some…misjudgements.

Once you leave Yoongi’s room, if you turn to your right and follow the wall, you’ll eventually end up at the stairs. You pass by four doors before then, one you believe was the room you used to have, and another you think might be Jungkook’s room, as the young gangster is always in this house somewhere, like he must live with the loan shark. You’ve tried to jiggle the handles a few times on your trek to see if a door might open, but the rooms on the second floor are usually locked. 

Downstairs is more complicated, you’ve tried to make sense of it, but there is always someone to stop you before you can explore too much. You know exactly where the kitchen is, because it is the one place it seems you’re not allowed to be under any circumstances. Anytime you would get close to the area, someone would offer to get you food instead, or lead you to a bar stool to wait. 

The sounds of cooking are far from where they sit you, too far for you to run and try to open a drawer and search for a knife without getting caught. And the thought will only rarely cross your mind now, you would much rather have some good food. 

Tonight however, you had overheard Yoongi was going to be out until tomorrow evening, so you try again to search for an escape. 

What’s the worst thing that could happen? 

-

Jungkook scrolls through his phone, his one leg propped up on the small side table he is leaning on. He looks up as he hears a faint click coming from down the hall.

He sees a hand reach out cautiously before you reveal yourself, pressing yourself against the wall before moving slowly closer.

You reach the next door and grip the handle. It doesn’t budge and you sigh, moving along.

‘All locked,’ you think disappointedly before spinning around. “Who’s there? I know someone is there!” You whisper. After a long silence you slump against the wall. “Am I hearing things now?” you mutter to yourself. You wait at the top of the staircase trying to hear for voices or movement, any indication someone might be awake like you.

Well, no stopping now. You move back and forth down the stairs strategically missing all the creaky steps you’ve hit on previous occasions.

Jungkook follows your pattern, only two steps behind.

Okay, now you are definitely feeling spooked. A shiver runs down your spine. Is it because it’s night time? Is this house haunted? Just how many people have been killed here?

You hesitate half way down. You still can’t hear anything downstairs, so you take your chances. You’ll explore as much as you can, learn as much as you can, and then, figure out an escape plan!

Even if you could go for a late night snack, you avoid the kitchen. Learning what else might be downstairs is more important. This house is massive, there’s an echoing to voices sometimes. Yoongi must not have it very furnished. Despite his greedy nature, Yoongi never seemed to be too extravagant with such things. 

If you go to the left, you’ll reach the kitchen. If you go forward, you’ll find a sectional where Yoongi’s underlings will be lounging about during the day. You’ve never ever heard a television, instead you’ll hear the familiar slaps of playing cards, another game you could no longer play without a special set you were too prideful to ask for.

You couldn’t risk going forward and to the front door. You’re sure a man like Yoongi had a security system. But maybe, maybe if you could find a window… So you move toward the only direction you have yet to explore. 

What’s this? It’s sleek, it’s too big to be a window. Is it a door to the backyard?

You feel the rush of excitement and fear pump through your veins as you find the handle, but you have to be cautious, doors could set off the security system he might or might not have. It frustrates you how many things you have to speculate about, how many things you don’t know. 

For all you know there are probably cameras watching you at this very moment! Yet, no one has tried to stop you. Should you just risk it and try to run before he sends someone to collect you?

No, you decide to keep searching.

You finally find an open door. You step inside and follow the walls around, a window! It’s covered by a drape. You bend down, running your hands over the window sill. Finally.

You stand up and keep moving, curious what else you can find before you attempt to open it. You move towards the room’s center. 

It’s a table, but you don’t see it for what it is, your legs hit the edge and it reminds you of Yoongi’s desk in his office and you panic, thinking of how much trouble you will be in if he found you there, and you stumble backward.

You stumble backward into a warm body.

Hands wrap around you, cover your mouth before you can scream, and pin down your arms. 

You breathe heavily into his palm, frozen in fright.

“Shhh.”

You swallow down tears, catching your cries in your throat. He holds you so tight around the waist it stings. You can’t move or scream, so you wait, expecting the worst. The worst is what always happens.

“I’m going to let go now. Don’t scream.”

Jungkook?!

“Hey!” Jungkook lets you go and you shove him away.

In your panic, you’ve decided to just fuck it, and run to escape.

You stumble, shoulders hitting the door frame, falling when your foot hits what you think is a chair leg. You scrape your palm bracing yourself when you hit the floor. You can hear Jungkook right behind you. He’s going to bend down and grab at you, you are already expecting it, so you kick your leg out. 

He grunts in pain so you know you’ve gotten a good kick in and you scramble to your feet, knocking into walls and furniture, searching for the glass door you felt before.

You click the lock down and yank the door open, security system be damned!

You start to run. The soles of your feet hit jagged concrete, and then…air?!

Nope, that’s a pool, you realize as you fall into water. Dammit.

You swim to the surface and hear another loud splash as you wade in water. 

Did he just jump in?!

That was dumb of him. You swim hastily, a second surge of energy rushing through you, you search for the pool’s edge. Your tiny dress still feels like it weighs a ton when you heave yourself over the edge, knees scraping as you crawl out. 

You can hear him already mimicking your actions as he pulls himself out of the water quicker than you thought possible. You crawl quickly away from the noise, using every bit of the energy left inside you, you dig your heels and palms into the earth.

Suddenly, Jungkook’s entire weight is on top of you, stopping your crawl to freedom.

Jungkook grabs your wrists as you claw at dirt. “Stop!” he grunts, yelling, “There’s a ledge here, you’re going to fall off of it and die!” He moves one of your arms out above your head, letting you feel the steep slant of earth downward.

In that moment, you don’t care. This is the closest you’ve gotten to freedom in so long! It’s been so long since you’ve felt grass and dirt and earth. You used to go hiking with Namjoon all the time, you used to breathe in the cool fresh morning air almost every weekend with him. 

Your heart aches when you remember the way he would lead you over steep rocks, his fingers interlaced with yours, the way he would explain the scenery and overlooks and sunsets and sunrises to you so animatedly, you could hear the reverence of what he could see in his voice. You cry with your head buried in the tall grass thinking of Namjoon and the freedom you had. In that moment, you would rather throw yourself off a cliff.

“Don’t take me in, please. Just let me stay outside a bit longer,” you hiccup.

Jungkook rests over you until you both calm down, until he finally rolls off of you, sighing, looking at the night sky. “You know…” he pauses. “If you want to go outside, you can just ask-”

“I don’t want to–” you grit out angrily. “I don’t want to ask for permission like a child. I don’t want to be let outside like a dog! I don’t want– I can’t– Jungkook,” your bottom lip trembles as you suck in air. You let the grass blades tickle your face as you hold yourself together, “I feel like I’m not myself anymore. I-” you can’t continue, you won’t dare admit to him what sick feelings that have grabbed a hold of you.

His cold wet hand touches your cheek, why does it warm you up so suddenly? 

“Where have you been?!” you cry, fist hitting what you assume is his chest. Yoongi, that bastard was right, Jungkook was the closest thing you had to a friend here. You didn’t want to believe he was just as cruel as Yoongi, you didn’t want to believe it!

“It’s safer for you if you stay away from me,” he says softly. Or bluntly. How could you ever really know if you can’t see the longing look he gives you? 

You stay quiet, holding in your objections. You aren’t going to argue with him, you were a fool to care at all about someone who didn’t care at all about you; a criminal; one of your captors. Your eyes sting as Yoongi’s words replayed in your mind, Jungkook saw you as a job, he was being nice because Yoongi told him to, he didn’t want to be around you.

You shiver, hugging yourself. You pull at the tall blades of grass, thinking of Namjoon instead, letting yourself be carried far away from here. Your body couldn’t escape, but your mind could. You hum to yourself.

It was a tune Namjoon played over and over for you, a song of his that didn’t make the cut, it was too soft and sweet, didn’t fit with his persona, yet it was your favorite.

Jungkook sits in his wet clothes uncomfortably, watching you, listening to your sad soft humming as the night starts brightening, and he has no choice but to act. He lifts your defeated body into his arms. “We’re not going to tell anyone about this.”

“About what?” you grumble, shivering in the cold.

-

Jungkook sets you in the bathtub, in your clothes, the wet fabric of your dress clinging to you and leaving nothing to the imagination. You can hear the knobs squeak as he turns on the warm water. You reach out and grab his soaking jacket, gripping it tight. 

“What are you doing, y/n?”

“You’re cold too.” Jungkook pulls away but you hold on tighter. 

“I can’t be in here with you.”

“If you leave now, I swear I will drown myself.” You know you shouldn’t force him to be here with you, but you were desperate, lonely, you didn’t care how uncomfortable you were making him if it meant you felt a little less insane.

Suddenly Jungkook moves closer to you, entering the large bath. He grips your knee, bending your leg.

“W-What are you doing?!” A flood of emotions rush through you, so many at once you don’t know what you’re feeling when he begins to touch you.

“You’re bruised everywhere,” he mutters, gripping your elbow and turning your arm. “I’m going to have to tell him you tried to escape.” 

He sounds frustrated. You accept your fate but it doesn’t make it any easier, knowing Yoongi will lock you up once again, no doubt find some creative way to torture you for trying to leave.

The bathtub steadily fills with water, and the uncomfortable weight on you lessens as the water surrounds your bodies. 

You haven’t let go of him, but you move your grip slightly, feeling for buttons, and once you find them, you start to unbutton his shirt.

If someone were to ask you why you did it, you wouldn’t have been able to articulate a reason, your fingers were working of their own accord, listening to something inside you you couldn’t even hear yourself.

Jungkook hasn’t moved, he holds himself up, gripping the tub’s edges with both hands until you reach the end and push away the fabric. By now the water has filled the tub enough that you float against him. You push both his shirt and jacket off his shoulders.

You place your palm on his chest, you can’t feel the tattoos etched across his skin, you weren’t aware of the extent of his ink markings, but you can feel the cold metal of his nipple piercing and you let out a small gasp in surprise.

Jungkook hasn’t moved, so you let your hand travel down his torso, fingers running along the contours of his muscles, until you reach his belt, his pants, your palm laying along his zipper. 

Jungkook is stiffening under your palm and you gasp louder.

Jungkook finally moves, pulling your wrist away. He holds it tight against the cool ceramic of the tub. “Don’t…don’t make me hurt you.”

You were so used to pain, his warning didn’t deter you how he expected. You wanted him to hurt you. You wanted someone, anyone else, other than Yoongi to think about.

Even when he tightened his grip until you could feel the pain sting into your bones, you didn’t flinch, you didn’t tell him to stop. You let out a silent gasp this time, arching your back against him, and Jungkook saw you were more dangerous than he had believed.

If you could have seen him you could have ruined him.

You gently run your other hand down his body, let your legs wrap around him, listening to his breathing grow louder.

He stands up suddenly. “Wash the chlorine out of your hair, don’t tell Mr. Min anything.”

You pause, “Tell him what?”

Dangerous. Jungkook clears his mind of you, focusing on cleaning the house of da what happened.

When later that day, Yoongi teased you about falling down the stairs, you knew Jungkook did what you had been waiting for, for so long…

…He lied for you.

-

-

-

“What’s this?”

You hold the sleek piece of technology in your hand. 

Is this…a cell phone?

“You’re going to say hello and tell her you’ve taken a job out of the country, and you’re going to make it sound convincing. And if you don’t, if she doesn’t believe you, I’m going to go to her tiny one bedroom Gangnam apartment off of Inchon-ro and I’m going to kill her.” Yoongi says coldly.

You hold your breath. What? Who? What?!

Yoongi crouches down to your level, watching you so close he could see each of your individual eyelashes as you blinked rapidly. 

According to Taehyung, for some reason, one of JTJ’s makeup artists, the girl who used to help you with your makeup, has started asking about your whereabouts. 

She’s questioning other staff, wondering why you haven’t answered any of her calls or texts, with incessant suspicions upon why you have suddenly disappeared without any warning. She’s causing others to wonder as well. 

Even if you had quit on bad terms like what they’ve been telling her, you would have still answered her! It just doesn’t make any sense, she thinks, you were so happy the morning before, making plans with her and the others to have dinner the next day-

She even wanted to get in contact with your family, Taehyung told him worriedly.

“Okay,” you nod. 

Her ringtone, JTJ’s first chart topping song plays in your ear as you try to settle your breathing. 

“Hello?” she answers. Your heart rate suddenly jumps and the pounding is all you can hear as you recognize her voice. 

Yoongi grips your leg, fingers digging, shaking it. “Minah?! Hey, it’s y/n-”

“Y/n!” she gasps, “Oh my god! Oh my god! Girl, what the hell? What happened?! Where did you go?” 

Yoongi grips your knee tight. “I’m fine, I’m okay. Sorry, I’ve just been setting up my new place, I-”

“You haven’t answered my calls, not even my texts,” she says, hurt. “They told me you quit? What happened?!”

“Y-Yes. I did, I uhh, I know it’s gonna sound crazy, but I was offered this amazing job-”

“What?! Where? With who?!”

“In J-Japan, it’s a really good job, I get my own office and everything. After that tour, I just really couldn’t do it anymore, it’s just a lot, you know, that lifestyle.” You pray she doesn’t try to get you to answer her other questions.

“What?” she sounds even less convinced, pausing. “Is this your new number?”

“Y-Yeah, sorry for missing all your calls, my cell was from the company, so I had to surrender it. I really wanted to call you sooner, but it’s just been so hectic…” You hope she believes your lies.

“Anytime I bring you up, the boys act…weird. You just d-disappeared, I-I thought something horrible happened-”

“I’m fine! I think they are just upset, it was such a sudden thing-”

“It was!” She sounds mad. “They told me you were sick when you didn’t show up for our celebration dinner, and then when you weren’t on the plane, they told me you just…left?! No one knew why!” She sounds even angrier.

“Yeah. Yeah, I left, I’m really sorry I didn’t say goodbye.” The words catch in your throat and come out stilted and choppy. You have to get it together.

“But why-”

You take a deep breath, terrified for your friend. 

“Listen, Minah, that night I got into a big fight with Jimin, and I just thought it was best for me to just leave. I really didn’t mean to worry you, b-but this is a once in a lifetime job,” you swallow, trying to keep your voice light and happy. “I had to take it.”

“Oh, okay.” Your lie seems to answer some of her worries. “Have you talked to Jimin since then? He’s just been so…he doesn’t seem like himself since you left. I think he really misses you.”

“Oh, really? No, I haven’t gotten the chance to talk to him.” Your heart is pounding.

“Yeah, talk to him, please! I think he finally realizes what he lost. Everytime I bring you up…no wonder… I told you, didn’t I! He likes you!” she says, sounding happier. “Japan is not too far away, you should go for it now that you’re not under the same company! He is totally heartbroken over you.”

You laugh awkwardly. “Jimin is like my brother!”

“Yeah yeah,” she laughs, sighing. “You two are both hopeless I guess. I miss you, promise me we’ll meet up next time JTJ has a schedule in Japan.”

“I’m s-so busy, but yeah.” Your hand trembles so badly you’re worried the phone will slip between your fingers at any moment.

“Promise!”

“I, um, promise. I miss you, Minah.”

“I miss you too!”

“I really miss you.”

“You okay? Do you like your job? They haven’t gotten a new translator since you left! You could come back, honestly, I’m sure they would take you! Joon has been translating for everyone and I’m sure he would love you back,” she jokes.

“I love my new job.” God, you hope she can’t hear the shake in your voice. “But I really have to go, I am glad I got to talk to you. I might not be able to talk for a while though, but I’m okay!”

“Yeah?”

“Oh! Can you tell Taehyung something?”

“What?”

Yoongi’s presence is suddenly everywhere as you stutter out your last sentence. “It’s about that Blue Moonlight song he’s been working on with-”

The phone clicks as Yoongi snatches it away, and you feel the coldness of loneliness creep back into your body.

“You better hope she’s as dense as she sounds,” he threatens.

“Don’t you dare touch her!”

“You know what? I think we should take a visit to Taehyung then, and listen to that new song of his,” he says, gripping the back of your neck.

You swallow, excitement and fear swirling in the pit of your stomach and rising the bile into your throat.

-

-

Yoongi leans against his Rolls Royce smoking a cigarette.

The door opens and someone sits next to you.

“Y/n.”

“T-Tae?!”

You try not to burst into tears. You frantically reach out to him, and his slender fingers wrap around yours, gripping your hand tightly as he scoots next to you. Then you really burst, crying against him.

You quickly try to pull yourself together, whispering, “Did you get my message?”

“Um, yeah. Blue Moonlight, I’m guessing it's more than just a song title?” He whispers.

“Moonlight Blue.” You repeat the phrase in Thai. “Are w-we alone?” you whisper.

Taehyung eyes the shadow against the window as Yoongi lights up another cigarette. “Yeah, yeah.”

“It’s a club in Thailand. If you take a detective there, in the women’s restroom, inside the second bathroom from the door, my DNA should still be on the door stall, I doubt they cleaned it well. You might be able to get CCTV footage too to show that I’ve been kidnapped, or maybe someone took a picture of it-” you say hastily.

“Of what?”

“My name, I wrote it with my blood,” you say rather proudly.

Taehyung grips your hand tighter. “What? Blood?! He’s made you bleed?!”

You nod hastily. “He’s d-done w-worse,” you stutter, this time you hold in your tears.

Taehyung swallows, resting his head against the car’s seat, feeling sick.

You reach both hands out until you find his shoulder and squeeze. “Taehyung, I have the money saved for my eye surgery in my bank account, I-I’ll give it to you if you help me. Please, please.”

He takes your hand in his again. “I’m not taking your money, y/n.”

“You won’t help me?” you cry desperately. 

He grips your other hand tight, holding them close to his chest. “I’ll talk to Joon and Jimin, we’ll figure something out. Our last album just hit platinum, we have stocks in the company now. We’ll find a way to help you.”

“We’re leaving for Japan right now. Right now, Taehyung. Please hurry.” You can’t tell whether it’s you trembling now or the scared singer. Taehyung brings your hands to his mouth and kisses your knuckles and you do the same, welcoming his comforting affection. 

-

Yoongi watches as you and the singer cling to each other. He rolls his eyes and flicks his cigarette to the ground, stomping out his frustrations into the tarmac pavement.

“Well?” he asks once Taehyung steps out and shuts the car’s door.

“Midnight Blue.” He says the name in accented Thai. “The club you took her to in Thailand, Blue Midnight.” Taehyung gulps.

“Ahh fuck, you’re right. But why-”

“She thinks if I can get CCTV footage, we can use it in a case against you.”

“Huh really? Most of them don’t even work in that area, but I can have my men check.” Yoongi runs his hand through his hair. “Anything else?” Taehyung shakes his head, unable to look the loan shark in the face. 

“You two were talking for a long time, what else?” He grabs the singer by the collar to make a point, shoving him against the door. You flinch inside.

“She told me you cut her, made her bleed there in Thailand, is that what you did?!” Taehyung pushes against the loan shark, shoving him away.

Yoongi cocks his head to the side, looking confused. “Eh?” He rubs the back of his neck, trying to remember, “Oh, it was one of my men. I took care of it.”

“Are y-you hurting her?”

“Why do you suddenly care?” Yoongi crosses his arms, “Are you gonna stop me if I am?” he asks, challenging the singer.

“She’s done nothing wrong, It’s not her damn fault, it’s Jimin’s, if you had just killed him instead-”

“You would have liked that, huh?” he tuts, “Wanted to go solo that bad, now you’re stuck with those two idiots and your album is on hold,” he rolls his eyes. “If you’re not making money, you’re gonna be in the same boat as Jimin, and you don’t have anyone to save your ass-”

“Just let her go then!” he hisses, trying to keep his voice down so you don’t hear. “Make Jimin pay you whatever he owes you!”

“So she can go to the police?” Yoongi crosses his arms, snorting.

“Min, I-I don’t understand. What are you going to do, keep her forever?!”

“Maybe,” Yoongi says dismissively. “Why?”

“Are you s-serious?!” he stutters.

“It was the deal-”

“S-She didn’t understand-”

“She’s a grown woman, she made her choice.”

Taehyung looks at the loan shark with disbelieving eyes. “Please, Y-Yoongi-”

Yoongi grabs the singer again, done with arguing, “Want to take on Jimin’s debt on top of what you still owe me instead, yeah? Go get her, take her.” He’s met with silence. “Then shut the fuck up.” He signals for his men, who have been waiting to board. “Send me Joon’s schedule, I’ll deal with him when we get back to Korea.”

“Okay,” Taehyung mutters defeatedly. He places his hand on the car’s window. You don’t notice him of course. He says his goodbyes silently, to himself to ease his mind, like a coward.

-

Yoongi didn’t need to keep a low profile in Tokyo, the city was too big, so many tourists and locals crammed together, he and his associates became just another mean face in the crowd. He bought out a few penthouses in an expensive hotel for the week, with a kitchen and a private hot spring and all the amenities you could ever want. 

It was your lavish prison cell.

“What’s wrong with her?” Jon asks, setting plastic bags of Japanese convenience store food on the counter. Jungkook shakes his head, sending him a look that reads, ‘Please just shut the fuck up about it.’

Jon clears his throat, he looks around, turning on a lamp, fiddling with the shade until he’s happy with the amount of light before leaving you and Jungkook in Yoongi’s private penthouse.

Before he leaves, Jon steps in front of you, studying you with the same scrutiny as he did the new area. He lifts your head up, a crooked finger under your chin. Your eyes are bloodshot, your lids swollen from crying. “Hey, don’t give up.” 

Easy for him to say, that man acts like he doesn’t have a care in the world. You bite your lip, making sure to keep your head up no matter how heavy you feel. “Give me a reason not to give up,” you grumble softly.

Jon stays silent. He steps away from you and nods towards the younger man.

Jungkook sings in his head to drown out your crying as he unwraps the food for you.

You hear the clanging of a glass plate set in front of you.

You raise your hand, hovering over it. Jungkook puts his hand over yours. This is the most he’s interacted with you since your last altercation.

You can’t take it. You can’t take this anymore. You can’t!

“What are you doing, y/n?!” Jungkook grips your other hand quickly, before you can do any more damage. The plate lays shattered under your fist.

“J-Just let me have this, so I can hurt him.”

He yanks the glass plate shard out of your hand.

“Listen to me,” he whispers. “You’re not going to hurt him. Because you can’t hurt him. You’re lucky Jon wasn’t still here, or anyone else for that matter-”

“I’m not with anyone else. I’m with you.”

After a long silence Jungkook finally lets go of your hand, wiping the mess off the counter and into the trash and pulling more food out for you now that you’ve shattered your plate to pieces. “You're testing my patience. Yoongi is mad at me because of you. If you try anything else, I will hurt you again.”

“Hurt me, then. Kill me. Do it.” You reach out, searching for his arms and clumsily put them to your neck. “Kill me, please! I’m not going to fucking do it anymore!”

Jungkook watches you cry. Despite everything you continue to rebel. No matter how small. You refuse to let Yoongi change you.

It stirs something inside him. A question he’s never spoken aloud.

You notice his sharp intake of breath so close to your temple. Is he smelling you?

“J-Jungkook?”

“I will only kill you if Min asks me to.” Soft, chapped lips brush against yours so quickly you question if you imagined it. “Listen to Jon, you’ve made it this far, don’t give up.”

“No.” You tremble, “You’re going to help me get out one way or another, Jungkook.” 

You feel him move away and reach for him again in desperation. His fingers are back around your throat, shoving you into hotel kitchen cabinets and lifting you off your feet in his anger.

You struggle, unable to breathe. You let your hands follow down his arms until you reach his face. And instead of what Jungkook thought you were going to do, what he would have done: tried to retaliate, fight against him, you hold his cheeks in your palms, thumb running soft lines across his face and over the scars you remembered.

Jungkook lets you drop, shuddering. You cough, inhaling air quickly.

Jungkook is a trained killer. His hands don’t shake, yet…

He looks down at you, silently crying on the floor.

He lets out a slow breath.

“Eat.” He mutters.

“I’ll only eat if you stop ignoring me,” you choke out, glaring in his general direction.

It makes him smile. “Okay, okay.”

You end up eating on the floor with the young gangster in silence, who has his body pressed up against your side. He hands you bites you take reluctantly. Jungkook pulls out his cell, opening a video he took, and you listen to soft cheering as the second half of last week's soccer match plays on his device. You quietly cry and nibble on food until you get caught up in the match, gasping along with the crowd over the very last play.

-

-

“You did well today,” Yoongi says, undoing his tie. 

You pull off your heels, frowning. “I’ve been with you for months now, so I want to know exactly how much left I owe-”

“Owe?”

“Yes, the amount. Of Jimin’s debt, I want to know exactly how much I have left! You’ve made hundreds of thousands of won on deals I helped facilitate, haven’t you? That counts for something, doesn’t it?!”

Yoongi wasn’t prepared for your outburst, but he knew it would happen sooner or later. And it didn’t stop him from becoming furious with you. “Any other demands you want to make, want a pension plan?” He goads.

You bite back your retorts and take a deep breath. “I want to know exactly how much longer I have to suffer here with a monster like you.”

“Suffer? You ate Wagyu steak today, the jacket you’re wearing is Givenchy.” His finger pokes into your shoulder so hard you almost lose your balance. “Which, by the way, will be deducted off your earnings, of course-” 

“What?!”

“That’s right,” he says lowly.

“I didn’t ask for this!” You yank off your jacket and throw it on the ground at his feet. 

He’s in your space again, his body walking into yours with no intention of letting you move away from him. You would have fallen over if he hadn’t grabbed the front of your shirt. “Going to give me back this shirt too?!” Yoongi rips the buttons off as he yanks the front open. 

You yell and grab at the pieces and hold them over your chest. “Haven’t you learned anything?” he screams in your face. Yoongi holds your head in his hands. You close your eyes out of instinct as tears well up in the corners, breathing through your mouth so you don’t have to smell his cologne, clenching your jaw to keep yourself silent. “You wanted this. Remember that? When you begged Jimin to let me have you? You’re mine, y/n.”

“I’ll never be yours,” you grit out.

“You’re already mine. And I can do whatever I want with you,” Yoongi rasps out with just as much vitriol. 

And then he does what you hate most, he presses his lips against yours. His hand keeps you from pulling your head away, his lips pressed to yours tightly, so you’re forced to inhale him, so you can’t help but gasp in air and open your mouth for him.

You reach for his neck, you try to choke him, fisting his hair and pulling, but it only seems to rile Yoongi up even more as his tongue invades your mouth. 

He finally lets you breathe, pulling your hands away from his throat and securing them behind your back, mouth moving to your jaw and down your neck as he holds you tight. “Mine,” he nips your neck.

It snaps something inside you, you caught yourself before you slipped away completely, and you snapped back, fighting against him. “Get off me!” 

You squirm your way out of his hold and push him away and to your surprise, he doesn’t push you back. He is no longer in your space.

You wipe your mouth and straighten your clothes, unsuccessfully trying to put your shirt back together.

Yoongi stays quiet. You know he’s there, somewhere, watching you, but he’s so quiet! Where the hell is he?

Yoongi watches as you frown and hesitantly reach your hand out in front of you.

You flinch when Yoongi hand smacks your hand down, and swing your fist out in anger, hitting air.

Yoongi laughs tauntingly to your right.

“I’m not yours,” you finally mutter out. Your head is pulled back as Yoongi yanks you by the hair and then shoves you forward. You cry out in pain, knee hitting the corner of something hard. 

Yoongi stays quiet instead of arguing back, he is trying to drive you crazy and it’s working, it’s maddening, you bite back tears as you breathe in sharply.

You stumble, moving around furniture and bumping into a wall. You frantically search for something to grab. 

You throw your hand behind you on a hunch that the loan shark was leering behind you, and he catches it easily, pulling you off balance again. 

You scream out in anger, “You think because you force yourself on me, I’m yours? I can’t stand you, I hate you! When you touch me, I think of someone, anyone, else! You think because I’m blind, I can’t see how hideous you are? How miserable-” you choke on your words as he grabs you by the neck and his grip tightens on your throat. 

He shakes you, moves you around so quickly you stumble backward, terrified he is going to make you collide into something, you have to grip him back to you from falling. 

You struggle against his advances until he’s over you, pinning you into couch cushions. “You disgust me.”

“Yeah?” Yoongi doesn’t believe you. You are trying to anger him, you’re trying to hurt him. He’s played this game before, he knows this game. “But if I was Jimin, or Taehyung, or Namjoon, you wouldn’t be disgusted, that right?” He yells in your face. Why does he always have to bring them up?!

He moves his leg in between yours, pressing his knee against you harshly. “You would happily spread your legs, give them whatever they want because they’re famous-”

You push as hard as you can against his shoulders, yelling, “What?! They would never take advantage of me! They saved me,” you grunt. “You have no idea-”

“I have no idea?” he laughs at you. “I grew up with Taehyung in Daegu, did he forget to mention that to you during your little reunion? I know them. I know Jimin is back to getting high again, he tried to clean up his act for a hot second, but like always, he cares more about his own self gratification than anything else. What do you think will happen after he burns through all his money?” 

Yoongi runs his thumb across your dry lips. “Do you think he’ll come back groveling to me, or do you think he’ll try to convince someone else to fund his addiction? Do you think if I offered him all the drugs his heart desires he wouldn’t hurt you for it? You’re so sure he won’t, are you?”

You have your eyes closed again and he doesn’t like that. Even if you can’t see him, he likes watching your deep irises. Even if you can’t see, your eyes still redden with tears and your expression darkens for him, blazes for him. “And Kim Namjoon, is he the one you think about? When he could care less about you? He’s no knight in shining armor coming to rescue you, and you’re sure no damn princess!”

Yoongi snakes his hand between your bodies and inside your pants, letting out a deep breath when you struggle and he realizes why. “If this isn’t mine, then why does it get so wet for me? Fuck…you’re so wet…”

You feel the last threads of your sanity breaking, and you want to hurt him the only way you can now, you can’t stop yourself, “No, I don’t think about Namjoon, I think about Jungkook,” he hiss.

You try to claw at his face, which stops his advances momentarily. Yoongi pulls his hand out of your pants and holds your wrists down until you stop struggling, and then he yells, “Jeon!”

You hear the door open as someone walks in.

“…S-Sir?”

“Come here and hold Miss y/l/n’s hands down.”

It’s deathly quiet until you hear movement again as Jungkook crosses the room. Yoongi’s grip lessens for only a moment until it’s replaced, your hands pressed above your head. You start to cry.

The pressure of Yoongi’s knee is gone as he moves down your body.

Your belt is unbuckled.

Your zipper is pulled down.

His hands reach around your hips and you kick out, attempting to hurt him when he pulls your pants and panties off your legs.

“Stop, stop this!” You’re begging Jungkook, but his grip on you doesn’t lessen. Jungkook’s fingers might as well have been shackles as you try to pull free.

“Who are you thinking about now, y/n?” Yoongi slips his fingers easily into your heat.

You clench your teeth so hard your molars feel like they might crack under the pressure. “You’re pathetic, you know that?!” You let yourself be overcome with anger, a much more agreeable feeling than the hopelessness you felt. “You must be really hideous if you can’t find anyone else to fuck! Is that why you went into this business, huh? Couldn’t get any decent woman so you surround yourself with strippers and prostitutes, and they won’t even fuck you?!” You scream out in frustration as his steady pace quickens inside you unrelentingly.

Yoongi chuckles at your outburst, his body weight pressing on your legs. “Ahh now we both know that’s not true.” He says cockily. You chose to ignore the way the girls at Yoongi’s establishments would address him, the flirtatious tone in their voices when the courageous one would ask him if he needed anything, offering their “services” up to him.

“Then why me?!”

“Because I want you.” 

Yoongi drags his two fingers out of you, and presses three fingers inside when he enters you again, his thumb rubbing across your clit. 

Your heart beats so fiercely in your chest you think you might suffer a heart attack, you hope you do when you feel the heat inside you rise, unable to stop your whimpers no matter how hard you clench your jaw.

Yoongi knows your body now, he knows the pressure that makes you shake, the movement you can’t resist. He rocks his hand into you steadily and precisely as you try not to tremble, as you try to think of anything other than what he was doing to you so you aren’t overcome.

But it only takes a few more minutes before you are overcome, unable to stop your body arching and muscles locking, and your breath stuttering and a moan escaping.

The hands around your wrists disappear and in the next few moments you hear the door slam shut.

“Jun-” Yoongi’s hand presses over your mouth.

Yoongi doesn’t want to hear whatever you have to say, something that would surely make his blood pressure sky rocket. Yoongi looks at the closed door. He has a choice to make. Should he go after Jungkook? No, he will let the young gangster cool down. 

That’s not the only choice he has to make. He looks down at you. You look exactly how he feels, a fierce mixture of fury and puzzlement and anguish twisting at your brows and behind your unfocused glare.

He removes his hand from your mouth, gripping at your neck instead to hold you still.

Rather than letting your emotions take over you again you try to think this through. He is still over you, body in between your legs, fully clothed despite your almost nakedness. You had a choice to make.

“You upset him.” You’re met with silence. “Do you think you can treat people like this forever and they will just take it?” His hand tightens around your throat as he pushes your head back. You yell in pain, but keep trying. “Go ahead, you’ll end up all alone just like you deserve,” you gasp.

“Like you?”

His words feel like a cold shower. When you freeze, Yoongi takes the opportunity to switch the subject of conversation. He brushes his lips across your jaw, finally calming down, “Want to know what you owe me now? Nothing. And nothing you could do or say would ever make me let you go,” he says gently, licking across your neck. 

He moves his other hand back down your body, achingly slow, pushing the broken pieces of your shirt away from your chest and tugging at the uncovered flesh. Why does he have to do this to you? Why? You hate how his touches twists your emotions and you hate how he knows it too. “Like I said, y/n, you’re mine now,” he says huskily. His mouth captures your nipple as he sucks and licks across your chest.

You feel rooted against him, unable to move as you process his words. You can’t fully however, his touches making it impossible to concentrate on anything but his harsh sucking and fondling. 

“Wait-”

“No.” 

You let your muscles relax and stop fighting against him, why should you? It never works, it never ever works. 

-

You rest your palm on the window, the glass is hotter than the surrounding air, and you move closer until your nose touches the glass, soaking in the warmth of the sun outside.

Yoongi’s voice is behind you, still in bed. “Come here, you’re giving everyone a free show.” You must have woken him up when you left the bed.

You rest your forehead on the glass. “I want to go outside today, take me to a cafe.” You don’t ask him, you tell him.

Yoongi studies your naked figure framed by the just risen sun.

He clears his throat, “I’ll have Jeon take you later-”

“I don’t want to go with him, I want to go with you.”

Yoongi pauses. “Why? He was just following orders.”

Facing the sun, the brightness allows you to see the most light possible. You don’t know if it's your imagination at this point, but you like to believe it really is orange and yellow you’re seeing in the otherwise blurry darkness.

“I want to go with you,” you say.

“I’ll see…I’ll find some time.” Perhaps it’s the tiredness still in his voice, but his tone seems to soften.

“Okay.”

“Come here.”

You close your eyes, let the darkness settle in, focus on the heat at your fingertips.

You spent the night dissecting what Yoongi had said to you and everything that’s happened to you since finding yourself in the loan shark's service. You had been too distracted, too focused on your own desires of freedom to notice Yoongi’s desires.

You didn’t want to believe it either, that he might have become more than just fond of you. It didn’t make sense, but now that you were really picking apart his actions, it was there, twisted and dark, his own particular kind of affection...for you.

You should have realized this sooner, but you didn’t even want to accept your own twisted emotions. If you had, you would have also figured that it would make sense he was going down the same dark path.

You asked yourself all night, now what should you do? 

You have decided now, turning to him and letting your body relax.

You were going to use it against him.

---

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter: Reunion (Update Goal: 500 notes)

Tell me what you liked, and what you hated (is it Yoongi? lol)

[bangtangalicious]

nexus (m) part 5

focus: jungkook x reader, seokjin x reader, taehyung x reader | smut: seokjin x reader

summary: a notorious casino conglomerate took you in when you were young. you grew up alongside their sons; inseparable from the oldest, infatuated with the middle, and engaged to the youngest. after a shocking murder, a detective with a vendetta drags you into unraveling a web of dangerous lies that cause you to question who you trust, and who you love

characters: detective!jungkook, ex/bartender!yoongi, bestfriend!seokjin, ceo!namjoon, fiancee!taehyung, model/gangster!hoseok, therapist!jimin

genre: 18+ smut slow burn angst romance thriller mystery eventual yandere casino!au organizedcrime/mafia!au arrangedmarriage!au revenge!au

wordcount: 7.5k

warnings: proceed with caution. soft yandere vibes but nothing too explicit, angst, arguing, pool sex, unprotected sex, pet names (princess), arms dealing mentions, jin has some dom energy i guess, taehyung gives solid yandere vibes tbh, choking, strip tease, masturbation, LOADs of sexual tension, flirting, a sickening amount of making out, taehyung tries to kill you but not really, manipulation, firearms, discussions of mental instability (inaccurate), power dynamics, misogyny, feelings of betrayal, heartbreak, anxiety, fainting, taehyung is cold as ice ice baby, jungkook is angsty, jin is a sexy bitch, character death

taglist: @raynom @gimmythatjib00ty @yoshiure @greezenini @victoryscreech61 @tbzhubrecs @namjooningelsewhere @sugarcoffeemochi @jiminie-08 @jinssexytoe @kooookie @only4sana @pinkcherrybombs @taeslarityy @natalie-rdr @mageprincess7 @hopeonysus @bibbykins @sameifnn @shadowmoon21 @juliemae80-blog @gaeguuliii @dvalitaes @satorinnie @fournia @kassandravictoria @jazmine2904 @marslena @iloverubberduckiez-blog @manchuria @btseverafter7 @jamlessstars @doublebunnykoo @you-are-my-wind@toughbook@mini-euphoria-deactivated202302 @lvrseok @n4mina @imjinvolved @rp171198 @codeinebelle @itsallabouthedetails @btseverafter7 @just-me-and-myselfs @blonde-bummer @hcneybees @babycoffeefire @totallynoanalien @seokjinkismet @itslanaanditssad @rhyperia @sporadicfuryface @azazel-nyx @hani-neko-nee-chan (rest of tags on reblog)

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Your eyes fluttered open. A familiar feeling of unease sweeping over you as your mind calibrates. No longer were you dreaming of Jungkook’s strong arms around you. His fingers exploring the expanse of your skin.

His lips—his eyes, everywhere.

No.

He was a Jeon.

You couldn’t fall in love with a Jeon.

There was a shadow casting over you. At the edge of your vision, an ethereal silhouette standing in your doorway.  Enveloped in a dark silk robe. His open collarbones striking in contrast.

Eyes sharp. Precise. Memorizing you.

“Morning” You rubbed your eyes. He said nothing.

“I said good morning, Taehyung”

“It’s 3 in the afternoon” His voice was ice.

“Well,” You sat up, running your fingers over the expanse of your soft blanket. “I hope you haven’t been waiting for me”

Taehyung scoffed slightly.

“I know better than to waste my time waiting for you”

A knife twisted deep in your heart. His words were so bitter. Tone nonchalant. Running his fingers through his jet-black hair. Taking a better look, you could see the ends of his hair were damp. Beads of water on his neck.

He went to your bedside, pouring a glass of water. His arms—those subtle veins—flexing as he did. He looked up at you. His expression shifted. Glossing with rage.

The glass shattered in his hand.

“Shit” You got up, pulling him away from the shards. Brushing fragments off of his robe “Fuck Tae—”

“I see the hickeys all over your chest.” Your eyes widened.

“Excuse me?”

He reached out shamelessly, fingers tracing along your collarbone. A subtle trail of his blood. Dipping into the sweetheart of your neck. His fingers slid up to your throat, pushing your chin up with his thumb.

“Taehyung—”

His grip tightened. Every single one of his fingers wrapped around you like a vice. You could feel the hate in his touch. The resentment on his skin.

“It would be so easy to send you exactly where you belong.” The edge of his lip quirked. “In hell, with my bastard brother. You two deserve each other”

His dark eyes possessed you. You became hauntingly aware that he could probably just kill you. That 10 years of resentment and isolation would brew all kinds of complicated problems.

He released you. You gasped for air, collapsing over yourself as his menacing eyes remained steady.

“What do you want, huh?” You folded your arms over your chest, “I apologized. I begged for forgiveness. The least you can do is tell me what I’m apologizing for.”

Taehyung was younger than you. But watching the expression around his eyes you could tell he’d been through a lot. He was dark—tortured, hurting inside and all you wanted was to take it all away.

“What the hell did they do to you?” You sat back down on the edge of your bed. Taehyung towered over you. Tongue rolling against his cheek.

“Detective Jeon’s father” Taehyung started, “Killed your mother.”

Oh so we’re just diving straight in. Inhaling sharply, you gave him a nod. “I know”

Of course you knew. It was fueling your latest dilemma. Your mantra every time Jungkook kissed you so deliciously and you had to pull yourself back to the reality that he was, in fact, a Jeon.

“Well, I’m the one who saw it happen” Taehyung began to tremble slightly, sliding onto the barstool with you next to him. You set a hand on his knee. “I told hyung, because I was so fucking scared. I thought he would hurt you next. When hyung gets angry he…”

A small smile spread over your lips. You were no stranger to Jin’s anger. How terrifying he could be in the, albeit rare times he would lose his otherwise charming demeanor.

“He had me point out who killed her. He took me with him and he shot Mr. Jeon. Like a maniac. Then he turned around and told the Chairwoman that I pulled the trigger. And my mother…was furious. I think she may have been having an affair with him”

Not just an affair. You mused. She ordered the fucking kill.

But he didn’t need to know that.

“She was furious at me. I was young, and I allegedly had killed someone. Naturally, she sent me away to get psychiatric help. Jin was her shining star, of course. The first son. She believed him over me”

Taehyung’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment. It reminded of you when you’d watch him doze off in your lap. He really did have such beautiful eyelashes.

“That man who was impersonating me, Dr. Park—he was on my care team. He was instructed to give me pills to keep me from being stable enough to leave the facility. Jin orchestrated all of it. He kept me locked up for 10 years, just so he could have you all to himself. I figured it out. Stopped taking meds. I figured out he was trying to impersonate me so I began to lie to him. Hoping that someone I trusted—you, Namjoon—someone would notice he wasn’t me”

You held your hands out. Reluctantly, he placed his palm against yours, letting you squeeze. His eyes flashed. They were starved for affection, you could tell. He must not have had anyone to support him. To touch him. To keep him out of his mind.

“What do you need from me to fix this?” You blinked up at him earnestly. He simply held your gaze. Words apparently caught, as he gulped. “Because I will do anything”

“Time”

Fair.

“You’ve changed” It was meant as an insult. Of course, considering what Taehyung knew of you. A naïve, innocent girl who believed in fantasies. “Do you still play cards?”

Your grip on him tightened excitedly. “I do. Would you like to play?”

He squinted at you. “Later. Detective Jeon called for you” His eyes went back to your bruised chest. You wondered how he was able to figure out so much without any words.

Letting his hand go, you rose to go get changed. Taehyung’s hand brushed against your elbow, stopping you.

“Princess” He breathed shakily.

“Yeah?” You looked back at him.

“Did you and my brother…were you together?”

You smiled. Thinking back to the last night you saw him. The sweet moments before chaos erupted.

“No” Your fingers twisted against the fabric of your tank top. “We did not get together”

Taehyung nodded, heading for your door. He slowed down, for barely a second. Not even looking at you.

Hauntingly soft, he whispered:

“I’ll always know when you’re lying to me, princess”

- The night of the murder -

His plush lips melted against yours. He kissed you like you were a craving he couldn't shake. Like those lips weren't the very same ones spewing the lies that made it impossible for you to trust him. As if he could break through to you through the tug of his teeth against your bottom lip. Or the soft breaths he'd breathe into you.

It was everything. From your fingertips to your head, every inch of you brought to life. You’d never felt anything like it. Dizzy with need, you kissed him back harder, wanting to get lost in him.

He exhaled, barely able to catch his breath. His eyes were so sincere, so in love, you felt your throat get caught. Your chest burning.

“I love you Y/n” He had said it in one fell breath, cursing as his lips continued to move against yours. You could have been flying, you’d never quite felt so high.

“I-I love you too, Jin please”

“Fuck” The growl in his voice had you weak in the knees, “Princess you say my name like that I swear I’ll” He bit into your bottom lip softly, nose tracing yours. His words were caught, and you felt him stiffen.

“So do it” You blinked at him, gripping his shirt so tight it could tear. “Come on, Jin. I won’t tell. You won’t tell.”

His hands circled your hips. Pinching the fabric, tugging at it unconsciously.

“But then what, hm? Princess? I can’t let you go once I’ve had a taste”

“So don’t let me go.” You pleaded. Jin looked away. “You hate that I am getting engaged. You hate when I flirt with your friends. You hate that I have Yoongi. You’re jealous.”

You dropped your volume “Because you want me just as bad”

Jin looked into your eyes and you swore you could see his heart breaking. He was so beautiful, so twisted and yet you adored him.

“Princess…your mother” Jin stroked your waist tenderly, speaking softly. “She didn’t like me. At all. She specifically put in her will that if you and I ever got married you would lose control of her company. Of Nexus. Otherwise”

Jin smiled in defeat, gazing into your starry eyes. “I would have made you mine the second I could”

And just like that. Nothing—nothing was going to keep off of this man.

The safehouse was surrounded by a pine forest. The air was chilly, the stars glimmering in the sky. The back pool was glowing with underlights—the blue marbling reflecting off your face as you sat poolside, legs like a pendulum, kicking against your thoughts.

Jin slowly made his way outside after making the two of you a drink.

He handed your glass to you. Clinking it against his own before you both took a sip. A mutual decision to lose inhibition.

“You okay?” His question was sincere. You stared back into the pool. The edge had a small, sleek fountain. Pouring in more and more—but never overspilling.

You downed your drink. Welcome the burn down your throat. Jin took a seat on the firm cushioned pool chair. Legs spread, resting his elbows on his thighs. Swirling the glass against his wrist as he watched you.

His chest muscles pressing against the fabric of his button-down. He had popped a few buttons open, revealing his smooth chest. The glowing light reflected in his smouldering eyes. Eyes that were on the edge of danger. One word away from snapping.

You set your glass aside. Leaning back on your palms, stretching your neck back.

“You didn’t touch me in the shower this morning”

He took another sip.

“We’re just friends”

You got up, the water dripping down your legs. Facing him. Your dress was already scrunched up, but you looked Jin straight in the eye as you hooked your fingers under the straps, letting it glide down your frame.

“You’re right” You responded. A grin hooked on Jin’s face.

“You really are beautiful, princess” His voice was breathless. His compliments only fueled you. You loved his words like they were silk ribbons against your bare skin.

Next was your panties. Dragging them down your legs—you tossed them towards Jin. Without flinching, he caught them.

He was clearly amused. Intrigued to see what you would do next. Your naked body shivered in the crisp night. Nipples hard and aching to be touched.

“You like playing games with me, right Jin? Making bets”

You jumped into the water. Wading your way to the other end of the pool.

“Sure, princess”

“Then I bet you can’t come into this water and not fuck me”

“What’s in it for me?” He tilted his head, taunting you.

“I win, you take me out of this stupid marriage deal. You win—and I’ll give you Nexus”

His eyes flashed with interest. Thumb running against his jaw and he considered your offer.

Without an answer, Jin finished off his drink. Kicking his shoes off he stepped into the pool—clothes on. Wading towards you.

You could see his chest under his shirt now—the water bleeding through the white. He approached you. Inches away. Not touching.

And then your fingers slipped into your cunt. Without leaving his gaze.

Lips parting, you gasped. You pumped yourself, your other hand falling onto Jin’s neck. His pupils widened when he realized what you were doing.

“You really have no shame”

You let out a soft laugh, but the heat in your core was overbearing. Your fingers trailed up Jin’s neck, cupping his jaw before you pushed your thumb between his lips.

And he sucked it.

Shamelessly.

You surged with wetness.

You floated closer to him still, watching the way his mouth moved, Imagining against your throbbing pussy.

You added another finger to your cunt. Jin’s tongue pushed out your thumb.

“You feel good, princess?” His voice was coarse. You bit your lip, whining as you nodded.

“Yeah” Your voice was embarrassingly whiny. “M’ wanna come”

“What’s that?” Jin taunted, his gaze darkening on you. You could feel the heat radiating off of his skin.

“Wanna come…for you” You slide your mouth against his. He kissed you firmly, his hand reaching down, gripping your wrist hard and pulling you out of yourself. Replacing it with his own two fingers.

He cursed, as you clenched down on his fingers. His thumb rubbing against your clit. Slowly.

Your foreheads pressed together. Mouths open, breathing each other in.

“Wanna come”

“Not yet” Jin growled.

“Please” You whimpered softly. “Let me come”

Jin smirked, his other hand curling around your neck. “You listen to me.” He growled. “You come when I fucking tell you to come. Is that clear?”

How were you not supposed to get more turned on by that? You soaked his fingers and his grip on your throat tightened.

He pulled his fingers out so fast, it made you dizzy. The night thing you knew he was lifting you up, pulling your thighs apart so you could wrap your legs around him. His jaw slacked against your neck, sucking your skin as you cried out into the night.

“Fuck” He hissed, “You’re so hot” He cupped your breast, pushing it up to meet his lips. He sucked on your nipples in tight tugs—before widening his mouth so his tongue could flick at you.

Flipped you around—you back against his chest. The buckle of his belt pressed against the cushion of your ass. His hands fisting your breasts. Lips behind your ear.

You were so overstimulated, you wanted to cry. You could come from these teasing touches alone—and you knew he knew it. Your body was glowing despite the cool water it was submerged in. Every cell alive with desire.

He gripped your throat again, pulling you back to him so he could kiss your neck. His hair brushing against you, making you feral.

And then he unzipped his pants.

Pushed himself inside you.

“Go ahead” He ordered. “Come”

The pressure of him filling you up had you shattering. You screamed as you came all over his cock, squeezing the life out of him as he hissed violently. He didn’t move, just let you spasm with wetness while he felt every bit. You lost your balance, held up only by his fingers on your neck and breast which were still squeezing at you.

He filled you up so painstakingly good. And the fact that he just snapped so suddenly had you twitching all over. You’d never come so hard in your life.

If anyone were to see you right now, they’d see a man dressed in drenched business attire fucking a fully naked woman against a pool wall.

Fuck.

“You lost” You mumbled, reaching back to touch his cheek. You turned your face as much as you could to look into his eyes. “I won”

“I don’t give a fuck” Jin growled. “You’re mine now”

You smiled blissfully as his heavy cock dragged out of your cunt before slamming back inside you. The water in the pool spilling out over the edges. Splashing wildly.

“Jin—yes” You pouted with pleasure. “Oooh fuck, yes”

He took his time. Each thrust harder than the previous. And he watched your expression. The way your eyes rolled back, lips parted almost drooling at how good he was fucking you.

“So fucking tight for me, Princess—fuck” He dug his teeth against your ear. “You know how many times I’ve thought about this—ramming my fat cock into you while you whine and beg for me just like this”

He slid out, turning you to face him. He took a moment to smile, a look of incredulous disbelief in his electric eyes.

“My good girl” He tugged your bottom lip. “My pretty girl” His lips glued to yours. Lingering “You’re mine princess”

You nodded, humming against him. He rubbed the head of his cock against your clit—not leaving your lips for more than a second.

“Why’d you give in?” You asked him.

He slid back into you seamlessly. And you felt right at home. Gazing into his eyes, lips locked, with him inside you.

He rolled his hips, bouncing you up and down on his length. Your fingers scraping against his back. Finally grabbing a fistful of his hair and tugging it. Jin hissed, biting at your lips. His hands on your ass, squeezing the flesh, digging his fingers in.

He licked your teeth, then your lips, before pushing his tongue into your mouth.

He gripped your jaw, tilting your chin up.

“Look at me, princess”

You did.

He sheathed himself inside of you. “Come”

And you exploded.

He had you on command. The power he held over you was absurd but you loved it. You loved him.

“Good girl” He stroked your face. The aftershocks consumed you as you whimpered. He coaxed you through it. “There you go, princess, you’re doing so good” Pecking kisses at the edge of your lips as you cursed out.

He slid his hand between your hot bodies, rubbing your clit as you writhed in his hold. He kept you cumming until there were tears in your eyes. And you were begging him—screaming for him to stop.

All the while, he kept digging into you. His pace picking up but his gaze never leaving yours.

And by God the way he looked at you—that was someone in love. So possessed with the flaming adoration and desire that reason flew out the door. He’d kill for you. He’d die for you. You had no doubt in your mind.

And then darkness came knocking into your mind and your high dissipated. You were supposed to kill him tonight.

Your eyes softened at him. A tear rolling down your cheek. Jin slowed his pace, looking at you with concern. He swiped the tear away with his thumb.

“Princess” He whispered, nudging your cheek, “Everything okay?”

The tears began to stream down faster. Jin move your arms so he could hold both your hands, still inside you.

“What’s wrong?” The possessive edge in his voice was evident.

You sniffled.

“I love you so fucking much Jin”

Jin buckled over, digging his nails into your wrists. You could feel the hot pressure burst between your legs.

“Fuck” He cursed loudly, pounding into you at a punishing speed as spurts of cum painted your walls.

He calmed down, pulling you into a tight embrace. Kissing the back of your shoulder.

Facing you again, cupping your face in his palms. He searched your eyes.

“The only way you’re getting engaged tomorrow is over my dead body, princess” He promised. “You’re mine now, forever”

- Present Day -

Jungkook wasn’t sure if you’d even want to see him after how the two of you left things the previous night.

Guilt seized him.

“Why exactly are you putting us in a room together?” Across the room, Park Jimin sat, handcuffed to his chair. The light hanging above illuminated his glimmering eyes. Hair tousled. “You know I can just tell her that it was you. I was Jin’s therapist—I know you two were—”

Footsteps echoed from the hall.

“Shut up.” Jungkook rolled his eyes.

He felt his heart get lighter as you walked into the room.

You. Causal. Jungkook’s cock twitched. Those little shorts that made him want to just grab at you. A long-sleeved hoodie that covered your hands. This version of you, he swore he was obsessed. The version not hiding behind all the Kim’s blood money.

Jungkook knew you were attractive. From the time he lost his breath seeing you at your engagement, until now. But right now. Despite the tiredness in your eyes. He swore you’d never looked hotter.

He reached out for your hand.

The moment you touched; both of your eyes met. Some sense of understanding passed between you.

I’m sorry.

I know. Gazing into your eyes had become such a familiar thing. He couldn’t pinpoint when, but you went from antagonizing him to being a source of comfort.

You were still a brat. And he’d tell you as much.

“Sure, don’t mind me as you eye fuck each other” Jimin’s voice interrupted the tender moment.

Jungkook's fingers intertwined with yours, forming a reassuring grip as he guided you to a seat beside him. The warmth of his touch lingered, his thumb tracing gentle circles on the inside of your wrist—a silent promise that he was there by your side.

"Y/n, Dr. Park. I want to walk through the timeline of the murder with you both to see where your stories diverge. Now, I don’t think either of you did this," Jungkook stated with a calm resolve. “I think it was Jung Hoseok.”

Jungkook felt the tension ripple through you.

He watched as you looked at Jimin. Examining him with distaste. Thoughts running rampant in your mind—he just wanted to climb inside and hear what you were thinking.

“No.” You cleared your throat. “It was me.”

“What?” Both Jungkook and Jimin were startled by the sudden confession.

“I killed Jin. Arrest me”

Jimin’s brows furrowed. Jungkook was simply shocked.

“Y/n this isn’t funny.”

You brushed off his question, pulling your hand out of his grasp. “I hated Jin. I knew about his years of scheming and lies. I knew that he was trying to get hold of my mother’s company after his mother gave everything to Namjoon. And I knew that he wanted me to get married to Taehyung so that he could deem him mentally unstable, send him away again, and steal my shares through the board once we got married”

“Y/n” Jungkook tried to get you to look at him, but you wouldn’t. Your eyes were on Jimin, communicating who knows what to that crazy manipulative bastard. “If you confess, I will actually have to arrest you”

Jimin was quick to interject. “Wait. Hoseok was there that night too, wasn’t he?”

You flinched.

“Y/n. For the love of God just walk us through what else happened that night. Don’t leave anything out. You can trust me” Jungkook urged you.

You pursed your lips. You were playing another game—he could see it in your eyes. Were you lying—why were you lying—and who exactly were you trying to protect?

“Yeah. Fine. Hobi was there. Luckily for me, because Jin and I got into an argument as I figured out what he was up to, and he got so angry that he—” You inhaled sharply “He hit me. So Hobi punched him”

A ringing struck Jungkook’s ears. He hit you. Kim Seokjin laid a hand on you.

A seething rage ran through his veins. He stood up, unable to contain the anger. Needing release.

His fists clenched as he did his best not to punch through the wall.

"That bastard. God, if he wasn't dead, I'd kill him myself,"

Your words from the previous day lingered in Jungkook's mind: "I've grown up around men like that."

For all he knew, Jin had been abusive this whole time.

Jimin smiled, “Funny you say that Detective” Jungkook shot him a look.

"I'm fine, okay. Hoseok and I go way back. He had been setting Namjoon up for months, putting the idea into his head to kill Jin by making Namjoon jealous that I was going to get engaged to Taehyung, and that it was Jin’s fault," you explained.

"Namjoon... and you?" He searched your eyes for an explanation. You avoided him once again. “Well couldn’t you have married him instead, I mean?”

Jimin chuckled, "That was Jin’s doing. Namjoon was totally in love with her. But Jin made sure that she was alienated from him after he assaulted her. He made Namjoon promise it would be Taehyung, convincing him it was what their mom wanted"

“What?” Jungkook’s jaw twitched.

“He did not assault me” You assured him, “He tricked me into giving him my virginity. How’d Jin even know about that?”

“Baby girl,” Jimin spoke steadily, “Jin knew everything about you. I wasn’t lying about the cameras. He monitored you like a hawk”

A disturbed look passed over you.

"Okay. Hoseok came and punched Jin, and then what happened? Did he shoot him? " Jungkook urged you on.

"No. I did”

Jungkook ran his hand through his hair, frustration evident. “You and me. Outside, now”

-

Jungkook directed you to an empty investigation room. Worn out and frustrated as he shut the door behind you.  

He didn’t say a word. Hands finding your hips.

Lips taking your life away.

You craved him. He groaned against your mouth, breath hot and fingers desperate. Lips tangling under a cloud of denial. Searching for a sweet escape.

“Y/n—we do need to talk—” Jungkook hissed in pleasure, forcing himself to part with you. He inhaled you, tracing his nose against your jaw as you arched your back into his touch. Chest heavy with want.

“I missed you” You moaned softly against his mouth.

Jungkook bit back a smile. Eyes ghosting from your eyelids to your lips “I’m sorry” He took on a more serious tone. His thumb running up and down your throat. “About last night”

“Jungkook, I loved last night” You spoke breathlessly. “It was the first good night I’ve had in a while”

Jungkook's fingers traced gentle patterns on your skin as he spoke. The soft glow of a nearby lamp accentuated the contours of his face, casting shadows that danced with the weight of his words.

“Why are you still lying to me, Y/n?”

Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, and your fingers found solace in the tousled strands of his hair. The scent of his cologne lingered, a familiar comfort amidst the chaos of your thoughts.

“Have I not proved myself to you? You still don’t trust me”

“You don’t trust me either, do you?” you asked, your voice a mere whisper that hung in the charged air between you. “Are you gonna let me go?”

You nudged him with your nose, a silent plea for honesty. “Are you gonna arrest me?”

He held your gaze, a storm brewing in the depths of his eyes.

“I—” Jungkook's voice caught, emotions raw and unfiltered.

“I hate that I’m falling for you.”

Your eyes widened. His confession was wildly uncalled for and sent you into a vortex of your thoughts.

Blush painted his cheeks. Speaking from the heart was evidently new territory for him.

“And I can’t stop.”

Your heart trembled. Fuck. You felt the same. You knew it, despite everything. You didn’t think it was possible to love so soon after Jin. Jungkook wasn’t Jin. He was simple. Exactly who he showed up as. He wasn’t playing games.

You were. And you couldn’t hurt him like this any longer.

“You know this doesn’t end well, Jungkook,” you whispered, fingers tracing the contours of his face. “I have to marry a Kim to get my company back”

The realization hit you. You couldn’t marry Taehyung—Taehyung hated you. He would murder you in his sleep, and you couldn’t have that.

Your plan failed. You couldn’t blame this on Namjoon anymore. You needed him.

"You’d marry someone just for a company?" Jungkook asked, his low voice laced with disbelief and frustration. "I thought you hated the way the Kim’s controlled you. Why would you willingly tie yourself to them?"

Your shoulders tensed, a defensive response bubbling up. "It's not just about them, Jungkook. Nexus is my birthright, and I have responsibilities. It’s all I have. I can't just walk away from it because you don’t like the world it comes from"

You knew he wouldn’t understand. People like you were groomed to take over family businesses. All you wanted was revenge. On a life that robbed you of choice. To do that, you needed power. You needed Nexus.

"Why not?" Jungkook shot back, his eyes searching yours for a glimmer of understanding. "Nexus is dangerous—isn’t that the whole reason Jin was trying to keep you out of it?"

"I don't need you to rescue me, Jungkook"

His jaw tightened, eyes narrowing in a mixture of frustration and hurt. "This isn't about rescuing you! I can't stand the thought of you tying yourself to a family that's suffocating you when I could offer you something better."

"And what is that, Jungkook?" you challenged, your frustration mirroring his. "A life where I’m with the son of the man who murdered my mother in cold blood?”

Pindrop silence.

Aside from the harmony of your haggard breaths.

“What?” Jungkook’s large eyes quivered with shock. Did he really not know?

“You think your dad was killed for no good reason—well there was one. Actually.”

Jungkook looked down, “Y/n.” But you knew there was nothing he could say. He couldn’t change the fact that it happened. That the two of you had history before you’d even met.

A bitter laugh escaped you, "We could never work"

"You think I wanted this?" Jungkook exclaimed. "I despised everything about you. And I tried to resist it because I knew it would be complicated. But, fuck, I want you. You want me. I don’t know why, I don’t know when, but somewhere along the line, I stopped hating you”

Your heart melted at his words.

“And you became everything”

You stared at him. Disbelief. And then you were running into his arms. He was lifting you up into a kiss. The kind of kiss that drowns you. The desperation, the pent-up frustration from your argument—the hopelessness of what you felt for one another—was a beautiful concoction of flames dancing between you.

“Y/n” Jungkook mumbled but you wouldn’t leave his lips. Afraid if you did, the moment would end again. And you didn’t want to think. You wanted to fade away.

Your fingers slid under his shirt. Searching his muscles.

Growling lowly, Jungkook pressed you against the wall again. Eyelashes brushing against one another, his expression softened seeing your swollen lips and desperate eyes. Stay. His eyes called to you. Stay with me.

“I’m sorry” You whispered so softly, your words feathering against his skin. “I’ll go, Jungkook”

He grabbed your wrist.

“No” Jungkook closed in on you, “I’m placing you under arrest”

Hobi’s manicured nails traced along the sleek contours of a pistol. Custom made. In his pocket, he felt the vibration of his phone.

Setting the gun down on the glass table, he placed his phone against his ear.

You have a call from—

“I accept the charges” This should be good.

“He knows your name”

There was no time for greetings with you. You weren’t into the charmed bullshit like Jin was.

Hobi inhaled sharply. Fuck. If the investigation moved in his direction, everything would be at risk. All these years, he had been meticulous and careful. Flying under the radar of any and all authorities. You’d only know his truth if he was in business with you. To the world, he wore a carefully curated mask. A budding model. To explain the money.

Explain his sin-stained wealth.

You paused for a moment, “He knows you and I have known each other. He also knows you dated Jin”

The last comment was an accusation. He heard you loud and clear. He knew you well enough now after the last three years spent plotting this intricate web to recapture Nexus for you. After the Chairwoman died, he approached you. Told you the truth about Jin’s intentions.

“How long? When were you going to tell me—before or after we planned to kill him?”

Kim Seokjin was a good fuck. He talked too much for one thing, but Hobi didn’t really mind. He liked to be in control of the situation. Play both sides, if you will. Dating a man like Seokjin meant letting him think he was in charge, when in fact, the reigns were in his own hands all along. He knew about Jin’s psychotic past. His twisted quest. All of it.

Lying was natural to him. One of the first skills he learned. “I was just doing it to make sure he didn’t know what we were up to”

“But he did know. Before you showed up that night, that’s what we were arguing about. I knew what he was up to. He knew what I was up to. And I think you told him”

“Careful darling” Hobi’s voice was silk, “I’m not someone you want to play against”

“They were going to pin the murder on you but I got them off your scent because if they find out about you—they find out—”

“That your mom was a mobster” Hobi spoke plainly “And that Nexus distributes weapons”

Thus the reason Hobi knew about you. Your mother. His family. They were in business together. You’d grown up as loose family friends who lost touch as life materialized until Hobi decided to make his move. Everything precise. Everything calculated.

“Yeah. So I confessed. It was a bluff. I didn’t think he’d arrest me but”

“You poked the bear, I assume”

“We’re not pinning this on Joon. I need to marry him to get control. I refuse to marry Taehyung—swear to God that kid will kill me in my sleep. Figure something else out, or I will whip that Detective around my finger and get him to blame you for it anyway.”

Hobi felt bored, suddenly. Meaningless threats were of no consequence. He owned the police for all he cared. He was untouchable.

“I’m not sure little unhinged Taehyung will react well to you marrying Namjoon. Perhaps you should consider staying in jail. Considering you did pull the trigger”

He could feel your energy shift through the phone. And what you said next was the only time you’d ever managed to tilt him off of his high-horse.

“I did. But he didn’t die. After we left, I saw him again”

Namjoon was back in his home office, urgently responding to some emails. Even among the chaos—he still had an empire to run.

His phone rang. “What?” His tone snarky.

“Y/n’s been arrested” Hoseok’s amused voice filled his ears, “She confessed to murdering Jin”

Namjoon’s brows furrowed, “Why the hell would she do that? And why do you know about it before me?”

“Namjoon. Someone innocent is going to rot in jail for something we both know you did”

Shit. Namjoon sunk into his ergonomic chair. Hobi was right. But if he went to jail then who the hell would run the company?

“I can watch over things for you until you cut a deal. I’m sure they’ll offer you something” It was as if Hobi could read his mind. “I know you, Joonie. You won’t be able to live knowing she’s in jail because of you”

But the truth was that, Namjoon had doubts. He remembered going to the safehouse. He remembered getting into a fight with Jin—Jin who was already battered up.

He didn’t mean for him to die. He had been drunk out of his mind.

“Namjoon” Hobi was persistent, “Don’t be like Jin. Do the right thing. Confess”

Fine. Namjoon shut his laptop and reached for his keys. He hung up the phone, rushing into the hall.

“Taehyung” He searched for his younger brother. He was still reading in the same position Namjoon had seen him when he returned home. He had to tell him what was going on. You were going to come home to him and he needed to know you’d be safe.

“Y/n’s been arrested for Jin’s murder. She confessed but—” He gulped, “She didn’t do it. It was me. I killed him, because I was jealous. I didn’t want her to get engaged to…well you…and Jin was the one forcing her”

Taehyung sat, soundless. Not a word, not a breath.

“I won’t let her go down for this. I’m going to confess. I may have to serve some time in jail—but I can cut a deal. They want to get to me anyway. She will come back alone, and my friend will be watching the company but” Namjoon panted.

He kneeled in front of Taehyung, palms to his knees. “I want you to know I missed you. I know we were never very close. But I hate what happened to you, I hate our mom for it, I hate Jin for it. You’re adjusting. You’re angry, and I understand. But you need to take care of Y/n. She’s our responsibility”

Taehyung nodded, as Namjoon stood up and rushed towards the door.

“Hyung wait!” Namjoon stilled. Taehyung never called him that before.

He walked up to him, before wrapping his arms around his shoulders. “Come home soon”

Namjoon’s otherwise cold heart was flush with love. He had almost forgotten what it was like to have family who cares. His eyes became teary—but he had not time.

He was going to save you.

“Dr. Park”

You sneered at the smirking face before you. In the shared cell, for the first time you faced him alone since everything went down.

“You’re so interesting, Y/n” Great. Not even here for a minute and he’s already psychoanalyzing me. “We both know you didn’t go through with it”

You sat down in front of him, making sure there was a good amount of space. He tapped against the wall aimlessly. The air was musty—even a little cold. You regretted not wearing leggings. Legs bare against the bench.

Jungkook's confession replayed in your mind like a broken record. His hopeful, big, gorgeous brown eyes turned wounded. He opened up for you. He lay down his vendetta, for you. And you simply couldn’t do the same.

Because this is so much bigger than him.

“You can tell me what’s wrong you know” Jimin said. For once, his voice wasn’t laced with amusement. “I know you don’t trust me, but I am a therapist”

“Why’d you even do this?” You spat, hugging your arms against your stomach. “What was in this for you?”

Jimin smiled. “Jin was unlike any of my other patients. He asked a favor, and honestly I was just so interested to see how this would all play out. It’s a house of cards blowing over. Brick by brick”

You frowned. “What would have happened if we didn’t figure it out? Were you planning on actually marrying me? Living with me for the rest of your life?”

Jimin shook his head. “That was never the plan. He needed someone to show up at the wedding. Jin never let Taehyung out because he was terrified that Taehyung would want revenge. So I was to stand in. Get married to you, and then disappear. After all, Jin wanted you to himself but he didn’t want to share you. He can’t marry you—it ruins his plans. After I’d disappear, Jin would say that Taehyung was back in in-patient treatment to the board and take your shares”

You raised your eyebrows. “My mom ran nexus without a man by her side for years. I don’t understand why I had to get married to get access to them”

Jimin clicked his tongue. “That was Jin’s doing. Chairwoman Kim oversaw your trust while you were in her guardianship. Jin leveraged the threat of Taehyung to get her to add the provision. Jimin grinned widely, “Then he killed her”

Your mouth went dry.

“Slowly—and made it look like cancer. But she also knew it was coming, so she didn’t give him the company. Kim’s will do what they do” Jimin marveled, almost in admiration. It made you sick.

Something in your gut twisted so violently, you wanted to hurl.

“And Hobi” You went on despite your state, “When did that start?”

“Oh that had been going on for a long time” Jimin waved his hand, “On and off. They were a bit toxic.”

“Did Jin know…about Hobi?”

“You mean who his family was? Of course he did. He knew about Hobi and Hobi helped him plot all this out. Later, Hobi said he found out you knew everything—I don’t think Jin knew you two knew each other. But they both stood to gain. If Jin got control of Nexus, Hobi and he would be in business together. Though in my opinion I think Hobi was also planning some sort of seduce, marry, kill type thing to expand his own power”

Was there even a single person in your life who was ever honest with you? A stampede trailblazed over your chest. You were bleeding out on the inside so much that it all began to go quiet. All began to feel numb.

“Why wouldn’t Jin just ask me for Nexus? Why go through all this—he knew I’d do anything for him?”

“Y/n, I’m a doctor. I work with intense patients and sometimes in in-patient facilities. People who see me are truly twisted. You can’t hope to understand why they act the way they do. Besides, your mom had gone to great lengths to make sure that Jin specifically kept his paws off you”

Why? You thought back. If your mother hated Jin why would she have let you spend so much time with him? With his family. The two of you had been inseperable.

“Wanna know something else that’s fun?”

You glared at him.

“Jin truly, genuinely believed that everything he was doing was for you”

Don’t say it. You looked down, blinking back tears.

“He loved you. He wanted to keep you safe. Away from gun dealers and mob life. He just wanted you to have everything you wanted without a care in the world. Jury’s still out on if it’s romantic—or just insane”

Namjoon burst into the precinct. Jungkook was at his desk, staring blankly at the screen in front of him. “It was me. Not her. I killed Jin. There you go. Let her go right fucking now” He went on to corroborate his story. It matched up. Him being drunk, arriving at the safehouse no doubt after you and Hoseok had left. A gun was there. Jin was already down. And Namjoon had oh so much motive.

Jungkook couldn’t help but wonder if all your lies and games had just been to protect Namjoon. You acted so indebted to this family of psychopaths—after what Namjoon did to you you were trying to keep him out of Jail?

He was thrilled suddenly. Namjoon away meant you were free. You wouldn’t be able to marry him, not yet—and he had time to show you that you belonged with him. Away from these freaks.

“Okay” Jungkook said, satisfied with the confession. He motioned to guards to take Namjoon into the cell. You and Jimin both were dragged out in exchange.

“You’re free to leave” Jungkook looked down, pretending to shift around the papers on his desk. He couldn’t look you in the eye—the pain was still too tender. Jimin didn’t need to be told twice. He fled immediately. But you, you stayed.

Jungkook looked up at you, annoyed. “What?” He was back to the spiteful tone with which he spoke to you when the two of you had just met.

“I know you hate me” You said quietly. Jungkook noticed the queasy look in your eyes, “But Jimin just told me—everything. And Taehyung is at home who terrifyies me. I guess what I’m asking is—”

“Thought you can take care of yourself”

There was real, raw hurt in your eyes. Jungkook felt a little guilty. He knew this had all been emotionally traumatic for you. He’d seen you fall apart and put yourself back together again multiple times already.

“Jungkook” You gripped the edge of his desk, losing your balance. Alarms went off in his chest. His pride dissipated as you fainted—he rushed to catch you before you hit the floor.

The light began to filter through your eyelids. Slowly you blinked, trying to understand your surroundings.

There he was. Your shadow.

“You’re awake”

Even lying on a hospital bed, Kim Taehyung didn’t give a flying fuck about you. Great.

“I’m glad”

You struggled to sit up as Taehyung neared you. He gently traced the edge of your face. His fingers were tender. Soft. You leaned into his touch.

“Don’t do that ever again” His voice dropped low. Flattening his palm against your cheek, his thumb brushed against the edge of your lips, “I can’t lose you”

Your lips parted in shock. His face was serious as ever.

“Also, there’s something you should know” He stood up, turning his back to you. Staring intently out the window.

Your chest seized with concern. You wondered what happened to Jungkook—if he was alright. You assumed he was the one who brought you to the hospital.

“Dr. Park was found dead last night” Taehyung paused. “He was murdered”

series navi | join taglist | masterlist | scream in my asks

a/n: its been a while since ive written so! pls let me know what you think!! scream with me!! who are you suspicious of! who are you falling for! i wanna know ;)

thank you for reading <3

[shooting-love-arrows]

I might be cringe-

How about a detective/journaliest reader entering a haunted library or mental hospital or anything? Where the yandere is actually the one who ordered reader's boss to send them there? Or just knew how to pop reader's interest

Dear @mil-vc,

It's not cringy at all. Here's my interpretation of your request. Have a nice day!

@shooting-love-arrows

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓 [𝐎𝐂] who lures their darling into their trap

PAIRING: 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭 [𝐎𝐂] x [JOURNALIST] reader (gender not mentioned/impled/specified) Tw. another floating red flag, obsessive/creepy behavior, possession, murder (?), rituals, supernatural activities, it takes a darker turn so yeah…

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Who became so desperate to interact with you face to face that one day, they decided to possess your idiotic boss. Their plan was carefully thought over and had a clear goal at the end of it. The way there was long, complicated and tedious. It took a lot of energy and effort since they were tied by invisible strings to the place they died. However they knew it would be worth it in the end. After all it was for you. And once they succeeded? 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭 decided to use it to its fullest. It was a once in a lifetime chance.

“I summon thee, hear me. I am in need to borrow the body of a mortal. Hear me!” After the last word left their mouth, 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭 were blinded by the light. When they opened them again, they successfully possessed the body of your boss.

Who lures you into their trap. After the possession, 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭 had no time to waste. Since they acquired quite a lot of knowledge about you. Being a journalist, they knew you treasure your job, were exceptionally good at it and you were a curious little thing too. Taking into consideration all those facts, you basically gave them a solution on the golden plate. But to you, it came as a surprise that your (possessed) boss gives you a job to investigate the supposed haunted gothic mansion.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat. Your (possessed) boss' stare was unnerving to say the least. His beady eyes were glued to you since the moment you entered his office. You cleared your throat, cutting the awkward silence. You ‘boss’ snapped out of the trace and straightened his back. “I want you to investigate a supposed haunted mansion.” ‘he’ informed you and gave you a thin folder of documents related to the said place. “Our source said that something suspicious is taking place there.” Of course, you accepted it.

Who wants to eagerly welcome you in their 'humble' abode. Well, as much as ghosts can welcome their guests. The gothic mansion might be a bit dusty, the time of its splendor long since passed but still! It was enormous and what matters is what it can become in the future. And his welcome tactic? They like to spook you. It's all harmless tho! Shifting objects around. Imitating sounds like footspes or whispers in your ears. Playing with your flashlight. Those all are little tricks and parts of their personality from where 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭 were still alive. 

You stepped into another endless hall of the supposed haunted mansion, shining your flashlight around.  “Ah!” You jumped back when a wooden chair was tipped back and fell. Like a ripple in the water, the echo of its fall carried around the empty halls. Your heartbeat began to pick.. The longer you stayed there, the more paranoid you became. Something just wasn’t right with this place…Scratch that, everything was wrong with it. Then your flashlight started to flicker.  “Oh no, no, no.” You started to visibly panicked and began hitting your only source of light. You even turned to praying to let it work properly again. Thankfully it seemed to work because the flickering stopped.  You sighed in relief just as a violent shiver racked your body. You began to regret taking that task. Meanwhile 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭 grinned playfully and moved their fingers along your spine. 

Who decided to trap you in the said place by manipulating energy to tie to the place. It was another step of their plan.𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭 had you right where they wanted you to be and everything was prepared early. Slowly but surely, they began to lead you into the direction of a hidden chamber which was a magic room. And when you crossed its threshold, your fate was sealed.

“I hope you’ll understand what I’m about to do is for your own good. For us to be happy for all of the eternity.”

Who processes to possess you and finalize the ritual. Since they were in the place they were tied to, their powers and energy was much stronger so possessing you came more easily to them. Unfortunately, they couldn’t fully appreciate being in your body. This step was their least favorite part of their plan but it needed to be done. 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭 steered your body in the middle of the room and started muttering incantations. They reached for the ancient dagger laying by your feet and raised it to be at the same level as your beating heart. With the last words of an ancient language leaving their mouth, they drove the weapon into your heart. The ritual was completed. 

“Welcome home, love.” The news about your dissapearance ended up being on the cover of the very newspaper you worked for.

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