Tumgik
#yandere kpop x reader
min-hoax · 9 months
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dirty little secrets - knj
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Summary: Namjoon was a hopeless romantic. He thought that was his destiny, and for you? That was simply your doom.
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Pairing: Yandere! Namjoon x F! Reader
Word Count: 8.25K
Warning(s): Obsession, stalking, he’s so delusional 😍, the reader is a messy bitch BUT I love her, infidelity, underage drinking, mentions of drugZ (characters are over 18!), mentions of suicide, manslaughter, mentions of blood and a dead body, mentions of attempted SA, MDNI 18+ SMUT SMUT SMUT, cunnilingus, fingering, loss of virginity, sliiiiiiiight breeding kink (it’s me, yall should’ve known😭)
A/N: I know I said I’d be gone, but I got so inspired!! This fic is written in Namjoon’s POV! Enjoy being in our lovely yanderes’ mind. 😈 UNEDITED!!!
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I dreamt of you before I met you.
In my romanticizing mind where I’d day dream about our life and what could be. You, wrapped around my arms as you slept. Us, on a trip that you desired to go to ever since you were a child.
It was moments like those that made me wait for you, and only for you because the moment I set my eyes on you, I was a goner.
I smiled at you from across the room when we locked eyes, the blaring music thundering inside my chest as you sat on a table, your legs swinging up and down. You nodded when your friend voiced something loudly, agreeing to whatever it was, but yet your eyes remained on mine.
I caught your eyes just like you caught mine.
But my admiration did not last long for a boy slithered his way into your embrace, a red cup of liquor in his hand that he passed to you while pecking your lips. I should have known a beautiful angel like you was bound to be in the arms of a lover, but how come I felt a little pang on my chest the second your lips locked with his?
I knew we were meant to be because how did the universe connect us both so effortlessly? It wanted us together and I knew that the second I saw you again. I set my eyes on you that same night, this time not at a house party, but at your own home.
Our home.
The move frightened me and caused my calamitous mind to drown in nightmares of what could be’s, but once I set foot in the town that I now called my home, I knew everything was going to be fine. Everyone was kind and welcoming and I didn’t even spend a sweat in finding a home once I packed my childhood home up and made my way north.
The memories of my mother were too haunting and I simply could not bear it. I had enough money from the life insurance company I acquired after her passing and made the decision so quickly after.
I found the ad one Saturday afternoon: Room For Rent! $525 A Month. ALL Amenities Included. I talked to a woman on the phone (now I know it was your mother) when I reached out, allowing her to know I was interested in the offer. She was kind and after a longing while of questions, she accepted and I made my way to you. I just didn’t know it then.
Your scream from fright made me jump, the cup of water in my hands slightly dripping droplets on the wooden ground. “What the fuck?” You muttered, taking a step back. Your eyes were messy with makeup, the night no doubt taking a toll on your sleep, after all it was three in the morning when you walked inside. “Who the hell are you?”
I meant to speak, but the creek of your mothers’ door opening upstairs kept me from opening my mouth, and seeing you standing before me did not help either. Your mother made her way to us, wrapping her pink fleecy robe around her waist. Your scream no doubt roused her from sleep.
“What’s going on - oh.” She looked at us. Did she not tell you about me? Perhaps not, it was obvious. But I was slightly afraid that I’d be scolded by your mother. I was free to roam the inside of your home to make my meals and shower and get a cup of water in the middle of the night, but yet you were her daughter and mothers were always fiercely protective. I knew.
“Sweetheart.” She started and smiled. “This is Namjoon. I guess I didn’t tell you he’d be renting the room at back.”
“Uh, since when?”
“Since… two nights ago?” She looked at me, trying to remember. I nodded. “Yes, since Thursday. I’m Kim Namjoon, it’s nice to meet you.”
I didn’t know I was desperate to feel your touch, but as soon as your hands fit in mind when you shook it and introduced yourself with a tired smile on your face, I shuddered.
“Well I'm glad you weren’t an intruder.” Your hand slipped from mind as you made your way into the kitchen, fetching a glass and filling it with water whilst speaking. “Just, mom, please give me a heads up next time.”
Next time? I wasn’t planning on leaving anytime soon. I knew there were others before me, the wall by my bed was vandalized with small figures and initials that read KTH, and I always wondered who resided in the room I now slept in.
You looked like an angel when you took a step towards the stairs, turning your head to smile at me one last time. The light on the ceiling gifted you with a glow that made me smile like an idiot. “Goodnight.”
Oh, I was a goner.
I couldn’t help it. I was never a violent person and I even surprised myself when I thought of punching your boy in his perfect face. I knew for a fact that though I was taller and was at an advantage, I could not win in a fight because I had never been in one. I was never the confrontational type.
He was the epitome of perfection. Round, but define cheeks, plump pink lips that made my jaw clench when yours connected with his, and blonde hair that fit him perfectly. He was everything that I wasn’t and that made me want to shrivel up inside and scream with rage until my throat was sore and my voice was nonexistent.
But I could only dream.
“Namjoon, please, help yourself.” Your mothers voice called for me, taking me out of my thoughts and onto the situation that I did not want to deal with. You and Park Jimin.
He sat before me, a plate of breakfast on the diner table and an arm wrapped around the back of you as you nursed a cup of coffee.
There was something with you and coffee. I always noticed you would make yourself a cup, take a few sips, but you never finished it. Always throwing it out the drain before you made your way to school. I always wondered. Until I didn’t.
I wasn’t in school, not yet anyway. After I graduated a few years back my mother tried her best to steer me towards it, but I wasn’t interested, even after the various scholarships I was offered. I knew I could still, for I was smart and capable. There was a part of me that did want to, just to simply join you at the community college you and Jimin went to, but I refrained.
I wasn’t a stalker.
“So Namjoon, how are you liking it here?” Jimin suddenly spoke with a bright smile on his cheeks. It wasn’t that it took me by surprise, Jimin had never spoken to me directly, but I didn’t want him to talk to me. To me, the younger boy was obnoxiously loud and a nuisance.
I breathed as I pushed the want of rolling my eyes. But instead, I took a finger on the bridge of my glasses and pushed them up. I smiled.
“It’s great.” I replied, nodding. “Everyone is kind and the setting is absolutely beautiful. The forestation that surrounds us is amazing.” I couldn’t help but to look at you as I voiced my opinion. I wasn’t lying, you were absolutely beautiful. Absolutely perfect.
Jimin raised a brow and chuckled. “Well, I’m glad. I’ve never really noticed what surrounds us, but I agree.” And with a sip of his apple juice, the conversation between us ended.
I was glad.
But where a conversation dies, another one starts. Your mother was a very talkative person. I had only been with you all for about two weeks in a half, but I felt like I knew her for years. She talked about herself a. lot, and I only wished that she did of you, but I figured she was just lonely after her husband’s passing.
She talked about him all the time and I noticed that she refrained from speaking about him when you were around. From what she spoke of your father, he seemed like a good man. It was only after you left one day to go to school, she finally confessed. She cornered me in the laundry room when I went to gather my clothes and started speaking of everything and anything, until she came about your father.
“My love struggled a lot when he was on earth side. He was fine for a while, but it got too much for him and one day he decided to leave us. My sweet girl found him.”
After that, I finally understood. Why she never spoke of him when you were present and why you made yourself a cup of coffee, but never drank it. The cup was your fathers, engraved with his initials on the side.
I felt my heart break for you and all I could say was that I was sorry. You didn’t deserve to live with the trauma inside of your wonderful mind and inside your perfect heart. In a way I understood you. My mother had gotten sick, until one day the sickness enveloped her whole until she was left with nothing and I was left with a hole inside my chest. There was nothing else to do for her.
My heart jumped as you stood because it mean you’d leave. I could only look at you as you made your way to the sink (as expected) took a farewell sip of the coffee before dumping it in.
“Have a good day.” I said with a wide smile as you retrieved your backpack and the baby blue cup you seemed to take with you everywhere. At least you stayed hydrated. I knew because you had to go to the restroom often.
You returned it, that beautiful smile that made me want to kneel at your feet and beg you to smile for all of eternity. “Thank you, Namjoon.” And you walked, “Bye mom, love you.”
My smile died as Jimin wrapped his arm around your neck, kissing your cheek. And you smiled. I only looked away, watching you unlock your vehicle and getting inside of it.
This jealousy only seemed to grow. I couldn’t help it. I wished you weren’t someone else’s. I wish that my miserable self had gotten here just a little bit earlier, maybe then you’d have been mine.
But would you have liked me?
I never considered myself someone who others would accept romantically. Growing up, I was a lame excuse of a human being, always too shy, always too quiet and afraid to speak my mind. As I grew older, I got better at communicating with the people around me, but I still stuttered when I spoke, and still struggled to continue a conversation.
It was a blessing and a curse because nobody spoke to me, just as I wanted it to be.
As I wrote, I simply couldn’t focus. All I thought of was you, every day and every second that passed by. No one had ever captivated my mind the way you did. I waited for you in my home right outside in the backyard. There was a small window by the door - the only way to get inside and out. It faced yours and I would always see you once you arrived and came home from school.
We had a routine. You’d see me through the curtains, and we’d smile at each other as I worked and I couldn’t wait until dinner arrived because I’d be in your presence and you’d be in mine.
There was something in your eyes that made me believe that you… wanted me. Was I delusional? I’d see it every single time you’d pull your chair out for dinner. You’d give me a smirk as you made your way next to me and I would only give a small hello and thank your mother for the delicious food that she had prepared. But through it, you’d look at me through the corner of your eye and I would only pretend I didn’t see.
You had Jimin. You weren’t like that. That’s what I truly believed until you came stumbling into my room, drunk in the middle of the night and immediately grabbing onto my shirt and connecting your lips with mine.
My heart had never pounded so fast. It took me by surprise which is why I took a hold of your shoulders and gently took a step back. “What are you doing?” Your eyes were bloodshot, like you’d been crying and I cupped your warm cheeks into my hands and took a glance at your cherry-burgundy lips.
“Do you not want me?” The tone in how you voiced the question made my heart ache; begging and fretful. How could you say such a thing? I have always wanted you, but not like this.
“Come. Sit.” I grabbed your wrist and I sat you on the edge of my bed. “What’s going on? What happened?” I towered over you as you sniffled and looked at me with tearful eyes.
“Jimin, -“
Of course.
“ - he doesn’t want to have sex with me.” You said it so meekly that I almost didn’t hear you. “He - he keeps making excuses about how he wants to wait till marriage, but I mean that is such bullshit! It’s outdated and stupid. Who at this date and age does not want to have sex? He’s not even religious!” As much as it pained me to see the tears falling from your eyes so delicately, I couldn’t help but to feel a sense of victory through your defeat.
Did this mean your relationship with Jimin was coming to an end? It had to, right? You seemed happy at his side, but now, as I saw the proof in front of me, it was all a faux.
But there was also a part of me that felt angry. Was I just your second choice? Would you have come for me and begged for me to bed you if you had other men wrapped around your finger?
“Well, -“ I started slowly, taking a seat to the right of you. “ - sometimes people like to wait, you know, just to be sure that the person they're giving themselves up for is… worth it.”
You sniffled again, wiping at your face. “You - you think he thinks I’m not worth it? We’ve been together for almost two years.”
Remind me, why don’t you.
“I’m sorry sweetheart, I wouldn’t be able to tell you myself, but a girl like you, you’re worth everything. To give up for, to kill for. Just say the words and you’ll have men at their knees. You decide.”
-
You were taunting me, it was so obvious. With those deliciously roguish eyes that eyed me with want and the skirts that barely covered your bottoms with the shirts that you paired that were the definition of skimpy, I knew what game you were playing.
It was when your arms would stray away from your lap and would just gently touch my arms at dinner, I knew that you wanted me the way I wanted you.
But it was wrong. Although I hated Jimin, I couldn’t help but to think that if I were in his position, your betrayal would wound me like no other. He seemed to love you, yet here you were, teasing me with your sensual eyes and your beautiful body that I absolutely wanted to ravish and worship.
But through the slight guilt I felt, there was a part of me that was… happy. Your mother was a nurse, working mostly every night at the local hospital which left me home, alone with you and with my tumultuous mind. You and Jimin were almost similar it seemed. You’d argue almost every night when he stayed to keep you company.
And though I couldn’t help but to feel jealous, a part of me was comfortable with him at your side because after that night that you came to me for comfort, the virgin wanted to wait until marriage.
My mother raised me right which is why I pushed myself away from listening to your heated match. But how could I? I had never met someone who could screech in anger the way you did to him.
He left soon thereafter, slamming the door with such force that it made my body jump from the sound. I fought with myself to go check on you, maybe you needed your space, but the thought of you crying was enough to do me in. I grabbed a glass and filled it with water, climbing the stairs and making my way to you.
The knock on the door was almost timid and quiet, but even when you didn’t answer, I gently opened it, and there you were, in a fetus position laying on your side, hugging a giant teddy bear to your chest.
“Hi.” You whispered looking up at me with those eyes that I loved so much. But they were swollen, and my immediate thought was to comfort you. I didn’t think when I sat at your side, brushing the strands of hair that were at the front of your face.
“Hey, there beautiful.”
You huffed, “I look far from beautiful right now.”
How could you ever think that? You were an angel fallen from heaven.
“Do you think he hates me? I said some pretty shitty things.”
I refrained from rolling my eyes, but for your sake I simply shook my head. “Of course not. I’m sure he understands that people say shitty things when they're angry. I mean, I’m sure he has said some things to you before, no?”
With a shake of your head you maneuvered your body, landing right on your back with the teddy bear on top.
“No, Jimin isn’t like that. He’s quiet in moments like these. I feel like that makes me angrier, you know? Like tell me something, tell me that I’m a bitch or that you hate me, but say something! Anything!”
I understand why he kept quiet. I would never say things of that magnitude to you. It was a disrespect that no one could come back from because you would never deserve it.
“So you like to be degraded?” I teased, raising a brow.
“What?” You chuckled. There it was. Just exactly what I wanted. “Of course not, Namjoon!” I smiled at the playful strike you landed on my thigh. “I’m just saying, I just feel like he doesn’t try to communicate.”
“Well… maybe you need to find someone else.” I couldn’t believe what I was doing. “Someone who could take your needs as theirs and actually knows how to communicate. My mother always said that communication was key in a relationship.”
“But I love him.” I swear, my chest felt like it was struck with something so tight that I couldn’t comprehend. How could you say something like that in my presence? Couldn’t you see how much I loved you?
And through my anger, I couldn’t help but to reply. “Sometimes, loving someone means you have to let them go. I know it’s hard, but I know you know Jimin isn’t good for you. All this arguing, this crying, it will only take a toll on you that you cannot take.”
Your fingertips on my thigh took me by surprise, stroking it with such sensuality as you looked up at me with those eyes that screamed for me to take you to bed. “And how would you know, hm? Have you ever had a girlfriend, Namjoon?”
My breath hitched as your fingers played with the waist of my pants, tugging them down just slightly. “N - no.”
It was a lie. But why bring past mistakes into my future? I hated lying to you, but a little white lie would never hurt.
“No?” You hummed, now on your knees as you came closer. I could feel your breathing and as my hands guided you into my lap, I couldn’t hold back anymore.
My lips connected with yours with such hunger, such intensity. How I longed to hold you close and have you by my side. Your body wrapped around mine felt so right, like a puzzle piece I knew I was missing. Couldn’t you see? We were perfect for each other.
With a small grunt, I laid you down on your bed without separating myself from you, desperately taking off your oversized shirt that you hid your alluring body from. And with hunger, I wrapped my lips around your beautiful breasts, pecking your sternum and making my way down to the waist of your pants. You complied, raising your hips and allowing me to remove the nuisance from your waist.
And what a sight. There wasn’t an inch of you that I couldn’t find a flaw. Stretch marks followed the side of your thighs, and along the middle of your tummy. I kissed them with reverence before my tongue dove inside the place I always wanted to be in.
You tasted absolutely divine. And I was hungry for more as I sucked on the little pearl between your legs, wrapping my hands around your thighs and hugging you closer.
“Namjoon.” You whimpered, and that made me want you even more.
The small little gasp you made made me smirk and I didn’t hold back from bringing you close to the orgasm that you were on the brink of, but I held back. I wanted to be inside of you as I came and held my hold inside of you. You looked up at me as I undressed, my sweatpants on the ground in an instant before I held you tight between my arms and entered the place I had dreamt of being.
Your brows furrowed from the uncomfortableness, it was to be expected as I was your first - the first man that had ever been inside of you. The thought almost brought me to the brink, but I wanted your first time to be loving and special.
And just as I expected, the feeling was euphoric and I couldn’t help but to moan and drop my head in the warmth of your neck. Your hands held my neck tight as you adjusted, soft little pants escaping your precious lips. “I know, sweetheart. I know.” I whispered, giving you soft little pecks on your lips and on your forehead as comfort.
“I - I think you can move.”
“Are you sure?” The furrow in between your brows was gone, but I wasn’t sure. I didn’t want to hurt you, but when you nodded and gave me a smile, I pulled away from the warmth between your legs, and made my way in once again.
At that moment, my dreams were coming true. Jimin was nonexistent as I knew it was the same for you. You muttered my name and my name only as you held me with a vice grip and kissed me on the lips.
I had never been brought to such ecstasy the way I did with you. After you came for the first time before I brought you to more, I soon followed, gasping for breath from the feeling of you holding by cock with such a vice grip.
We took a breath for a second as we giggled like school children and kissed each other hard. But you were insatiable. You wanted for more even as your legs shook with exhaustion and you mounted me and rode me like I was the last man on earth.
But of course, you needed to sleep and your body knew it, and soon after we finished making love, your eyes drooped and you slept so soundly, close to my chest and my beating heart.
I couldn’t help but to stroke your belly. Maybe… my seed would take place inside of you and you’d be pregnant before we knew it. In my mind, I sickly hoped that you were. I knew that I was going out on a limb and that one couldn’t get pregnant with just one night, but I wanted you to be.
I always dreamt of a family. Was I so wrong to want something with the woman I loved?
But the righteous won. We were still young and… Jimin, Jimin was still in the picture. Goddamn Park Jimin. I hated him with everything I had, and I hated my mind even more for ruining the afterglow I was basking in.
With I sigh, I gently kissed the crown of your head, getting dressed with the thought of making my way to a pharmacy and getting you a contraceptive to prevent pregnancy. I knew it wasn’t right.
Your phone buzzed on your nightstand and with a glance, my stomach dropped as I read it.
JiHoon: Hey, baby. I loved that little present you gave me. See you soon?
I couldn’t help the tears from forming and with a slam to your door, I left your bedroom, no doubt rousing you from your sleep.
-
I couldn’t stop staring at you. The night you gifted me with stuck to my mind. You gave me something forbidden that I couldn’t come back from. After I left your bedroom, I made my way to the pharmacy, slightly smiling at the only cashier and took the bag with me. I left it on your nightstand, but I couldn’t bear to look as you slept.
You betrayed me.
You kept betraying me. The fight you had with Jimin seemed to be forgotten. You two lovebirds were inseparable the following day. Were you not guilty? Or did you just stick by his side because he was all you knew and you couldn’t let go?
I knew I could give you something better. Something that was worth your time and effort. I’ll take you out of this town that you lived in your whole life and perhaps we could live in the home I grew up in. It wasn’t much, but it would be enough for the both of us.
“Hey, Namjoon.” You smiled, but it didn’t reach your eyes. You awkwardly looked away and eyed Jimin. You couldn’t even look me in the eyes.
You both sat at the hanging bench that was at the front of your house, your arm wrapped around his. Jimin smiled at me, nodding at my precence, but I didn’t follow. I couldn’t help but to glare. But as soon as it formed, I hid it, immediately smiling bright, looking down at the both of you.
I was feeling messy.
“Did you take it?”
It was obvious I caught you off guard. You gulped, letting out a nervous chuckle. Jimin, of course had no idea about the contraceptive I had bought you, and I took pride and a bit of sick pleasure at your unprepared face
“Take what?” Jimin questioned with furrowed brows.
“Uh - just, I - I had a headache last night, and uh, Namjoon gave me pain killers. That’s it.”
You weren’t a great liar, but you were fast.
“Good.” I nodded, “You should just have a few on hand, you know, for when it happens again because headaches -“ I eyed Jimin, shaking my head, “they’re the worst.”
“Right. You know what, we were leaving. We have a movie to watch.” You stood quickly, taking a hold of your lover's hand and when you walked and I was at your back, I spoke once again.
“You don’t mind if I tag along?”
There was a pause as the birds chirped and Jimin turned. “Uh, yeah sure, why not?” I knew the invite was just a lie, but I knew the man wasn’t going to turn me down; he was kind and simply couldn’t take it.
“I’ll drive.” I offered, my long legs allowing me to walk ahead and just as I wanted, I stood next to you, opening the door to my vehicle and letting you go first. “Thanks.” You muttered.
The drive was… unpleasant. As much as Jimin tried to make small conversation, it simply didn’t go anywhere. I hated to admit, but Jimin wasn’t so bad. He tried his best to make me comfortable and no doubt himself, but I despised him and a part of him knew.
When we arrived at the theater after Jimin kept instructing me where to go, I paid for the tickets and for the snacks. I figured it was the least I could do after I stuck with you both like a leech. Jimin was thankful, patting me on the back and taking a seat on the tables the theater offered. He nodded when you voiced you needed to go to the restroom, and I took a seat, taking a sip of the cherry slushee.
“I don’t mean to pry, but did she tell you what happened last night?” His question caught me off guard.
“She didn’t have to tell me. I heard everything.”
He grimaced. “Yeah, about that, I’m sorry you had to hear that. It’s just - when she gets like that, she can’t stop and it’s difficult to speak.”
Was he seriously blaming you right now?
“No,” I replied, shaking my head. “I completely understand. Don’t worry about it.”
“You ever had a girlfriend, Namjoon?” Why did it sound like he was mocking me? Did I seem to be below him because I didn’t carry his fair skin and plump pink lips? He was everything I wasn’t - had everything I wanted, and I wanted to punch him until he was left unrecognizable and no one would ever look his way.
“No.” I replied with a shake of my head. “Not really.” He looked at me with confusion. “What do you mean, ‘not really’?
I despised thinking of Anna, and leave it to Jimin to bring back memories I wanted to bury deep in my consciousness. She was a woman who deserved no mercy, not after the way she spoke of my mother, like if she were scum below her shoes.
My mother was the light of my life and there wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t think of her and held her close to my heart.
I loved Anna, or at least I thought I did, and I admit, it did hurt me letting her go, but now I know that what I had with her was never love. She was a fiend, and you are an angel.
“I prefer not to talk about it. Do you mind if I go to the restroom?”
“No, of course no -“
I didn’t even let him finish. With caution, I checked my surroundings before I entered the women’s restroom, intently scanning the thin wooden doors of the stalls and once I caught the black Converse’s you wore, I placed my back against the wall, and waited.
The small little gasp of fear that escaped your mouth once you saw me made me smile. “Sorry. I just had to talk to you.” I shrugged, grabbing your wrists to bring you close. I couldn’t deny that it pained me when I went in to kiss you and you pushed me away.
There was confusion written all over my face, it was obvious, and you noticed.
“What the hell are you doing, Namjoon? Jimin is right outside and you can get in trouble if someone finds you in here.”
“I just wanted to talk to you. You - you have been acting weird ever since yesterday. I get it - just come over to my room tonight, yeah? Please? I have something I want to give you.”
You raised your brows. “Another plan B pill?
“Well, if I didn’t get it for you, you might as well could’ve been pregnant at this very moment. If you wanted to have my baby, you could have just said so.”
Would that really have been that bad?
“Don’t be an ass, dude.” With a huff and a roll of your eyes, you turned, making your way to the sink and pumping soap onto your hands. I followed just behind you and took you by the hips.
“Please?” My hands slithered lower and by the look of the reflection, I knew you were craving for more just as much as I was.
“O - okay. Fine. Just, let me go first or Jimin will realize what’s going on.”
“By all means,-“ I gestured with my hand. - ladies first.” And with a stolen kiss I smiled, seeing you walk away and no doubt, into the arms of my mortal enemy.
-
My leg shook with anticipation as I looked at the clock on my desk: 2:36AM. You said you’d be here, so where the hell were you? As soon as we got home from the theater, you said goodbye to Jimin and locked yourself inside your room. I knew because I knocked on your door multiple times before giving up and making my way to the little backyard home I resided in.
I huffed, landing with a thump on my bed, entertaining myself with the charm bracelet that was on my hand. My heart pounded once I heard two little knocks on my door and I instantly stood up and opened the door.
I smiled brightly once I saw you, dressed in a gray v-neck shirt and baby pink pajama pants with cupcakes cluttered on the cloth. “Hey, beautiful. What took you so long?”
You made your way in, taking a seat on my bed. “I took a nap.”
I chuckled and raised a brow. “You don’t take naps.”
Teasing, you replied, getting rid of your slippers and wrapping yourself around my blanket. “And how would you know that? Hm?”
I shrugged, “Through your window. You snore, do you know that?” I laughed out loud when you smacked me with my pillow, gasping with offense. “No I do not! You’re such a little liar!”
This could be our future.
Content and happiness, just you and I. Our home filled with laughs and quick witted banters. Couldn’t you see? We belonged together. I knew it the second I saw you.
“Here.”
My hand was out, presenting you the bracelet that I cherished as a part of me. My mother never took it off, from what I knew, she’d had it in her early teens and kept it since. You meant everything to me now, and it was yours to have.
“It’s beautiful Namjoon.” You gasped, sitting upright, stroking the charms.
“It was my mothers. I want you to have it.” I could see it in your eyes, you wanted to decline, but I wouldn’t allow it. “Please.”
I took a hold of your wrist, wrapping the jewelry around your carpus and connecting the clasp.
“Namjoon, I can -“
“Yes.” I pushed. “You can. I want you to have it. I have no purpose for it. It doesn’t fit and I’d rather it be used than to be locked inside a box without it ever seeing daylight again. Please? It would mean a lot to me.”
You eyed me for a few seconds then sighed. “Okay, fine. Thank you. I promise I’ll take great care of it.”
I didn’t doubt it for a second. You took me by surprise because like a flash of light, you engulfed me and kissed me with need. I didn’t hesitate to reciprocate. In seconds I wrapped you in my arms and our clothes were nonexistent - dropped on the floor in a haste to make ourselves whole.
I will never get enough of you. Your little gasp of pleasure made my tummy fill with extreme need as I entered you and held you close. It was intimate, our love making sounds resounding in my room. You cupped my face, gently stroking as if I wasn’t real and you wanted to verify if I was really there, making love to you.
“I’m here. I got you, sweetheart.”
And I was never letting you go.
-
The frantic 2AM call took me by surprise. It woke me from the deep slumber I was in, but the moment I saw your name on my screen, I didn’t hesitate to disconnect my phone from its charger and answer. I called your name in question and your distraught voice I heard next.
It was distressing, hysterical.
“Namjoon? I didn't know who else to call, but - but can you please come? I - I need your help, I don’t know what I di - he’s not fucking moving -he’s not answering i just pushed him and-
“Breathe, I’m on my way okay, just stay there. Don’t move.”
I don’t think I have ever sped the way I did making my way to you. As I parked my car on the side of the abandoned road, behind the white car with its hazards flashing bright, I knew something had happened.
Something terrible that you had done.
It wasn’t until I stepped out of my vehicle that I saw his limped body on the asphalt, a puddle of scarlet blood oozing from his head. You sat at his side with your knees inside your chest and with your frizzy hair at the front of your face, you looked up at me slowly. “He’s dead.”
-
I would’ve never thought I’d have to get rid of a dead body. A part of me felt disgusted as the monstrous act I had done devoured me whole, but I didn’t feel… guilt.
The immense jealousy that raged within me kept me from doing so. You met him, the bastard that made me cry after I made you mine for the first time, JiHoon, on a deserted road to enjoy hiding your dirty little secret: your adulterous little soul. I wished I understood why you felt the need to run into the arms of another when you had Jimin, you had me and god only knew how many others.
But even then, I still wanted you, through your imperfections and your need to want other men even though they caused me absolute agony. Good riddance to the bludgeoned man who crossed your path. He forced himself on you and there was only one way the night was going to end.
I’d done it to protect you, to keep you sane and perhaps even have you to myself.
The night bound us as one. A clandestine service that we would take to our deaths.
After I placed the cold corpse into my trunk, I took the tiny packet of white substance that laid on the concrete ground, and placed it inside my jeans. It was a good thing you both came in your car. There wouldn’t be any suspiciousness, hopefully, and we’d forget about this illicit night.
“Go home.” I said in seriousness, taking a hold of you by the nape of your hair. I was angry at you that I couldn’t even look you in the eye. “I’ll take care of him.”
You nodded and sniffled, cupping my hand and gently rubbed. “Thank you.”
And with a start of the engine, you raised your window up, and drove away.
-
“Namjoon!” Your mothers voice made my body jerk from surprise. I was on edge, it was human and I wanted nothing more than to get out of the situation I knew would take a while to get rid of. Your mother loved to talk.
“Hello.” I muttered with an empty smile. Your home smelled divine with the aroma of freshly made food, but I didn’t have an appetite. Who would?
“Will you join me today? My sweetheart of a daughter isn’t feeling too well. She came home reeking of god knows what and emptied her guts as soon as she stepped foot in the door.” With a shake of her head, she took a seat, gulping down the glass of wine in an instant.
If only she knew that her ‘sweetheart of a daughter’ wasn’t such a sweetheart after all. She had a dirty little secret and I was her accomplice.
“No. I apologize. I had a long night. I only wish to go to bed, if you do not mind.” I felt terrible for turning her down, but the only thought in my mind was to see you. To nurse you back to health even when I knew that you were traumatized by what you have done.
Your mother sighed and shrugged. “I understand. Have a good night.”
“Do you mind if I go see her? I just want to make sure she’s okay.”
She smiled. “Of course.”
I didn’t have to be told twice. My long legs took me there in seconds and as soon as I walked inside your bedroom, I took a seat beside you. You laid there on your side, your eyes red and swollen from the tears that were nonstop. “Can you lay with me, please?”
Who was I to not obey? I took you onto my chest, cupping your wet cheeks onto my hands. “Shh, baby. It’s okay.”
You muttered as you sobbed. “I - I’m sorry, I didn’t mea -“
“Shh, I know. You did nothing wrong, my love. But I want you to promise something, can you do that?”
You nodded. “You can’t speak to anyone about this, okay? No matter how much you want to. You weren’t there, do you hear me? I wasn’t there.”
Shakily, you breathed and nodded once again. “I understand.”
“But now you know why not to do such a thing, hm? It’s not okay. You’re lying to me, to Jimin all for what? You did something that you will never forgive yourself for, but I want you to know that I will do it all over again, for you. Do you understand?”
“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”
After you slept like an angel wrapped around my arms, I left, not wanting your mom to come into your room and find us wrapped around each other.
I had trouble falling asleep, but soon thereafter, sleep found me and I slept soundly. I couldn’t believe I had. Ian hadn’t even crossed my mind. The scoundrel was six feet under and he’ll remain there where no one was to find him. Good riddance.
But you, you would never be the same. You were a murderer. An angel of death that brought a man to his knees for the simple act of crossing your path. And it seemed I was following the same path, I wasn’t dead, but when you would betray me, I would feel death dawn on me, getting closer and closer with every treachery you committed. But yet, you would bring me to cloud nine. How? I would never understand.
But I understood that I loved you. I love you like I have never loved anyone before. And though it suffocated me and drowned me, I always went back for more. I will always go back for more.
“Good morning.” I smiled, pecking the crown of your head as you sat with your legs crossed in the dining room, a fork at your fingertips, playing with the food on the plate. Your mother was gone, no doubt picking up an early shift at the local hospital, but as the doting mother that she was, she had left breakfast at the ready for you.
You gave me a tight lipped smile that made me frown. Your eyes were swollen, almost hollow when you looked at me. He was haunting your mind, his shadow following you, no doubt. But even when I knew, I had to ask. I couldn’t bear the thought of you in pain.
“How are you holding up?”
You shrugged, biting your lips. “I don’t know. Is it weird that I don’t know what I’m actually feeling? I can’t explain it, even though I really really want to.”
“It’s okay to feel that way. You went through something… traumatic, and you won’t bounce back from it as soon as possible. It takes time, but I promise as time continues, it’ll get easier.”
You eyed me. “How do you know that?”
You skeptical little, beautiful thing.
“…I am just placing myself in your shoes, I tend to do that in certain situations. Would you like more breakfast?”
You shook your head, taking one last bite of the egg before standing up. “No, thank you. I'm meeting with Jimin.”
You moved, making your way up the stairs as my jaw clenched in anger, and my words made you stop in your tracks. “Jimin, hm? I - I thought you were ending things with him.”
You turned with furrowed brows, “I never said that.” Will this be the first time I’d feel your fury towards me? It was obvious I’d pushed a button.
“No? I thought the night before might’ve been an answer to your actions. You no longer love him. You have proved it time and time again, have you not?”
“You don’t know shit, Namjoon. I love hi-“
I couldn’t help it, I was infuriated by your nonsense comment that you didn’t mean. “You’re cheating on him with me! You have multiple times. And don’t even get me started on the man that you killed last night because I’m sure you weren’t there only for the coke, or am I wrong? Hm? Why in the hell do you still go back to him!”
“Because I can, Namjoon. Because I can. And it’s none of your fucking business anyway!”
“Yesterday was my business. You had no one else to call because you don’t trust anyone. You trust me! Not Jimin, not even the friends you don’t have, not even your own mother!”
I struck a cord. I gasped when you hurled a glass cup my away and I only managed to move away immediately before it struck me.
“Fuck you, Namjoon! Fuck you!” And with that, you walked away, grabbing your keys from the bowl near the door and slamming the door with such force that it shook the walls.
I stood there paralyzed and it wasn’t until I noticed that my body was shivering with anger? With distress? I couldn’t tell, but I was crying. The tears fell freely after being locked inside for what seemed like years and with blurry vision, I grabbed the broom and picked up your mess that your temper had caused.
That’s what I started to do ever since I met you: pickup after you and the disarray you left behind, and perhaps even myself. You left me in shambles and before I knew it, I was on the ground, on my knees as my shoulders shook from the sobs that escaped my chest.
And there, on the ground, in the depths of hell I felt I was in, I knew you had dug your grave. I loved you with everything I had, but this couldn’t go on any longer.
You had made your choice and I couldn't change your mind.
If I can’t have you, then you will not have anybody else.
-
The anonymous tip came in at midnight. I could see the blinding blue lights coming from the front yard of your house even where I resided.
Three police vehicles made themselves welcome in your yard, and I only knew exactly what was happening. Your mothers voice was louder than usual, hysterical as the officers handcuffed you and declared you your rights, walking you out onto the awaiting SUV. I made myself known, asking with faux concern and holding your mother’s shoulders as she cried, almost wanting to drag herself over to you.
There were tears in your eyes once I finally looked at you. You knew it was me and I held absolute pride even when I truly felt for you. But there was something more important in my eyes that you instantly understood.
My menacing and threatening look in my gaze. I had your mother in my grasp and if you wanted to see her once again - behind bars of course, you’d do best to keep quiet about what I had done. What I did for YOU.
Did you really think I would’ve done such a thing for you without looking out for me? I knew exactly the type of person you were, but yet, I still fell for you deeply, like no else had done - like Jimin never did.
I knew where JiHoons’ body was placed, I knew absolutely everything, and I knew enough not to wipe away your DNA from his body, your hair that I took a hold of after I told you to go home when you murdered him in cold blood.
I placed you on such a high pedestal and I despised knowing that it took me such a long time to comprehend such a thing. But I still loved you so much.
The moment I set my sight on you, I viewed you as an angel fallen from above, a beautiful creature that did no wrong.
But you weren’t an angel.
You were my hell on earth. Though you brought me to such highs, you brought me to a low, and saddened mess. Your loyal puppeteer that you knew you could manipulate just as you wanted because you knew the hold you had on me.
But you made a mistake with me and though I loved you, you had a price to pay.
It’s what you deserved.
Much love.
- Kim Namjoon.
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desiredfang · 8 months
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❧ Attitude
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genre -> yandere, suggestive
pairing -> skz bangchan x reader
warnings -> manipulation, cursing, the end can be taken incredibly suggestive, but it could also be taken as torture, victim blaming
word count -> tba
summary -> this request right here ♥︎
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“And where do you think you’re going? Hmmm?” You jump away from the door and look back towards the voice. “I thought I made it clear that you couldn’t leave.” He stalks towards you. You press yourself against the door, hoping that maybe it’ll swallow you whole.
“I’m sorry Chan. It won’t happen again.” You whisper looking down at your feet. “Oh baby, I don’t think sorry will cut it this time. I’ve been so forgiving towards your other attempts. I think it’s time for a reasonable punishment, for this attempt and the other ones.” He laughs.
“What the fuck did I ever do to you?!” You scream at him, your anger getting the best of you. “Oh baby. I think the question is, what didn’t you do? I tried for years to get you to notice me normally. I transferred from all of my classes to yours so I could hopefully get to know you, but you never cared. I tried to give you so many chances and you fucked it all up. It’s all your fault baby.” He says pressing himself closer to you.
“As for that attitude, I have a way that will get you quiet for a couple hours. But just remember baby, when you’re tied up to our bed crying and wriggling, that it is all your fault.”
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sleepchapter · 11 months
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yeonjun yandere prompts 4 and 6
“you’re flinching like i hit you already today.”
“tell me, do you like making me mad?”
warnings; kidnapping (current situation for reader), noncon kissing, abuse, reader is restrained, blood mentions
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how long have you been here? how many times have you tried to find a way out? how many times have you cried here? you’ve lost count. however, you refused to lose hope. you refused to let him win. you refused to love him or give into whatever sick fantasy he had in mind.
you had woken up awhile ago and were just laying tied up on the ground. you’d guessed it had been around an hour before he walked in. his shadow projecting on the wall.
“good morning honey,”
ah, there it was. that same cocky smile he wore no matter what. no matter the situation, it was rare that his smile ever faltered. even when you didn’t listen it only would become more sadistic or shrink into a small smirk.
he crouched down to the ground and that smile he wore just looked even more cocky. and it was as if it was starting to mock you. he reached his hand out for your arm and you flinch immediately. he looks you in the eyes and his eyes held amusement and a slight curiosity in them. he then just reached his finger towards your neck. it wasn’t even his whole hand, he just glided one finger across your neck and collarbone, which you immediately flinch when he touched you and you stayed tense as he glided it across your skin. soon after he pulls away and actually laughs a little out loud.
“you’re flinching like i hit you already today.”
today. he hadn’t hit you yet today. he probably would end up doing it at some point. light shades of brown and purples littered your arms from his hits on you. usually he only left them when you had tried to runaway or did something ‘awful’ in his book. however, sometimes his grip just left bruises on you. he barely even needed to touch you. it was as if he made your skin weaker and easier to bruise from the amount of abuse he had inflected on you.
he leaned in closer to your face this time ignoring your flinch and attempted to kiss you. key word, attempted. attempted because obviously you hated any touch from him so you turn your head away. even his eyes staring at you made you want to just crawl out of your skin. he didn’t have the patience to wait or give you a second chance to allow him to kiss you. he grabbed your hair and forced you to kiss him. although you bit his lip he continued to hold the kiss for a few more seconds. he pulled away and kept your hair in his hand and pulled it tighter causing you to whimper. he grabbed your face with his other hand forcing you to look at him and you could see his lip was bleeding quite a bit. that smile still there, but his eyes were glazed with almost excitement.
“tell me, do you like making me mad?”
he moved his hand off of your face allowing you to look away from him. it seems as though he wanted you to answer though because he had yelled at you for a response. you shook your head back and forth as much as you can manage with his hand still in your hair. tears streaming down your face rapidly. he finally takes his hand out of your hair and your head drops down onto the ground and you groan in pain, sucking the air in through your teeth. he just slowly rises to his feet and looks down at you. his eyes still glazed with that almost excited look. his smile never disappearing.
“i will drain every last bit of resistance out of you. it doesn’t matter how long it’ll take. and i’d advice you listen. i said i hadn’t hit you today, but do you think that you’re not going to get punished now?”
the day had only just begun, but you could tell the hours were just going to drag on from here. excitement in his eyes, fear now in yours.
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blackswan446 · 2 months
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weeping mary
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→ pairing: yan!jhs x reader
→ synopsis: the show must go on, right?
→ wc: 1842
→ cws: gun, reader gets hit in head and passes out lols
→ notes: despite the title this is not a religious story whatsoever lol it just has heavy religious allegories
--
theatre was an odd place. whenever a new show goes into production, you never really know who you'll end up being with for the next months of your life. you could get lucky, and end up with people who had a passion for the art and made the frustrations of props and memorization worth it. or, you could get the short end of the stick, and get stuck with the group of people who were made to watch shows, not participate in them.
more often than not, it's a mix of both. sometimes one group outnumbered the other, other times it was an even blend. and every single time, you could count on the two groups to butt heads. that's how it was here, in your little college theatre department, and normally, it wasn't that much of an issue. but this time it was not as easy. you, a lifelong lover of theatre and one of the more...theatrically challenged participants, paired up, occupying the two leading roles.
it wasn't like he was bad, but his recitations during rehearsals sounded just like that, recitations. like he was reading from a script, even though he had the lines memorized. they just failed to evoke anything deeper within you, they didn't spark the same emotions inside you as you felt with other people, even within your group. some of the performances you had seen felt so real you could've sworn the emotions they were portraying were real and raw, so clear you could reach out, touch them, and feel them yourself.
you felt bad for even thinking these things, since hoseok was such a sweetheart. he was extremely kind and he was making a clear effort, but theatre was just not his strong suit. maybe with practice, maybe with a lot of practice, he would improve, but as of now, you didn't have your hopes set high for the evenings ahead of you.
that's what you used to explain the twisted feeling in your gut as you sat in the fluorescent room. it was empty by now, the only things in there being the ghost of excited chatter and loose makeup powder hanging in the air. you could see your reflection through the fingerprints and dust covering the mirror, the costume and headpiece that adorned you almost distracting from the worried aura you embodied. the shine of the lights illuminated the front of your body, eliminating the shade and casting a saintly glow upon your figure. weeping mary, you thought, your own appearance reminded you of the weeping mary.
you were distracted from your own thoughts by a shadowy figure appearing in the doorway behind you. whipping around to get a look at the mystery silhouette, you were met with none other than jung hoseok himself. sighing, you greeted the usually-happy guy normally, though a discontented look rested on his face.
"[name], are you alright? you weren't out there with everybody else backstage, and i got worried." he asked quietly, his voice soft and kind. his costume fitted him well, the colors and cuts of the various articles of clothes suiting him better than you had imagined.
"yeah, i'm okay. i just wanted to sit alone for a minute. don't worry about me." you said feebly, eyes meeting your clasped hands. unconvinced, hoseok paused before his next question. "did something happen?" he said gingerly, the words coming out as if they were afraid of what you had to say. sighing, you shook your head. "no, nothing happened. i just don't feel great, i have a bad feeling about tonight." you admitted, looking at the shiny costume jewelry that sparkled on your fingers.
"bad feeling?" you didn't need to look up from your manicure to see the puzzled look on his face, you could hear it in his voice, the way he sounded more shocked than sympathetic. "...what do you think is going to happen?" he said carefully, like he was unsure of his own question. you shrugged your shoulders. "i don't know. i think it's just nerves." you lied. it was so much more than that, at least, that's how it felt to you. but what exactly were you supposed to do? drop out because of a random gut feeling and let everybody down? that wasn't an option, not tonight, not ever. the show must go on.
no words were spoken, rather, you felt a gentle hand touch your shoulder, so delicately resting where the end of the pink tulle fabric and your clammy skin met, as if you were a fragile porcelain doll that would break if the wind hit it wrong. "i get where you're coming from, [name]. but how bad is it really if things go wrong tonight? this is just one night out of our whole lives. we have so much ahead of us. do you really want to look back on your youth and remember being scared for nothing and not enjoying the ride?" he wondered, a convincing tone that was not present earlier now accompanying his voice.
he was right, you knew he was, but the validity of his point didn't release the knot in your stomach. but you weren't going to burden the poor boy with your existential crises, you couldn't, not after he had just tried to comfort you, not when you only had fifteen minutes until the show began. not now.
giving him a warm and grateful smile, and nodding as a show of understanding, you thanked him for his philosophical point of view, and the both of you made your way out of the room, hoseok looking significantly happy and pleased with himself. it took everything in you to replace his words with the hurricane of worry clouding your mind, and as you stepped out onto that stage, you ignored the screaming voice in the front of your mind, begging you to run in the other direction.
the show must go on.
--
time felt like it was moving through quicksand. act one was hard enough, you could barely keep up with your lines because of how on-edge you were the whole time. the only thing you had time or energy to do during intermission was throw back some cold water and hope for the best. having hoseok in your ear, both onstage and off, wasn't exactly calming your nerves. he was nice, as he always was, but what you really needed was to stew in your anxiety and work through it alone.
the further you spiraled into your madness, the more the door of hope squeaked shut, but as the end of act two rolled around, you thought you saw the light at the end of the tunnel, a sliver of yellow sunshine from behind the door. maybe you were just crazy. maybe nothing would go wrong, maybe you hadn't slept well, or were coming down with something, maybe
just maybe
everything would be alright.
if only your own desperation hadn't blurred the lines between the warmth of hope and the fires of hell.
you stood at the far edge of the stage, looking across to hoseok. something was different about him, something in the way he looked, there was a new passion behind his eyes that you had never seen before. even if it wasn't scripted, the look would have made you stop and stare all on its own.
"i love you, [c/n], i love you so much, for everything you've done for me." you paused dramatically, turning your back to hoseok as you prepared to make your final exit, "but i really hate you, for everything you've done to me."
that's when it happened. you were supposed to leave, it was only supposed to take a second. but he was faster.
"no."
you felt the familiar pit in your stomach return with a hungry vengeance. there was nothing else for you to do, but turn around slowly and roll with whatever the hell he was doing.
"no, [y/c/n]. you're not going anywhere. i have loved you for so long. since the day i laid my eyes on you, the day our hands met, and since the first time you smiled at me, i have been yours since then, and i will still be yours when time gives out and history ends and only the stars are left in this world. you are my heart, my soul, my brain, my absolute everything. the day i stop loving you, is the day that love dies. please, [y/c/n]."
speechless, unmoving, and heart pumping wildly, the only thing you could manage to squeak out was a weak "no". the look of passion from before, the same one that could have cracked a diamond, was gone. now he looked crazed, insane, as he stormed over to your trembling figure.
"that's not a choice. i've spent too long watching from afar. all my life, i've waited for someone like you to fall into my lap. i love you, [name], and i'm not taking no for an answer."
with that, he reached into the back pocket of his costume pants, and pulled out something shiny, something that glinted underneath the hot stage lights. the air in your lungs refused to exit, any sort of words getting caught in the back of your throat as you stared at the metallic gun held in hoseok's gloved hand. there was a loud gasp from the audience, and for a minute, you thought you tasted the sweet exlir of hope, but once you realized that people mistook this awful situation for a part of the show, you felt your heart sink onto the floor.
it was obvious by now that this wasn't acting anymore. this was a real thing, real emotions and a very real weapon in front of you. hell, that's why he sounded so passionate during his monologue. he wasn't speaking from a script, he was speaking from the deep and twisted cracks of his heart that you wouldn't have dreamt of existing. the irony wasn't lost on you, how someone like hoseok had turned out to be the best actor you had ever met.
all you could do was shake your head, your body too paralyzed in fear to do anything else. he chuckled, an amused smirk washing over his features, as if he knew this would happen. as if he had planned it to be this way. with an accepting look on his face and a sweet, strong kiss to your lips, and with that kiss, your fate was sealed. you didn't like it, nor did you want it, but the fear had turned you to stone, and all you could do was watch from a distance.
"'til death do us part, my love."
the only thing you could hear during those final moments of consciousness, the final moments of life as you knew it, as hoseok scooped up your collapsed figure and threw you over his shoulder, was the cheers and applause of an audience who had just seen the show of a lifetime.
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prettyheung · 2 years
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yan! txt | you reject them
⇾ genre/warnings : yandere!au, reader is manipulated, reader is threatened, violence?
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—soobin
Soobin’s mouth dropped slightly at your rejection, shifting his weight from one leg to another. He didn’t even want to bother hiding the disappointment and hurt on his face, it was better if you knew how much he liked you.
“Was it something I did?” He finally spoke, meeting your eyes, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “Was it my friends, or the way I dress, or…?” He trailed off, looking to you for an explanation. There was another question that lingered at the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t possibly say it out loud.
Wasn’t your ideal type me?
“It’s not that. I’m just not interested in you like that, you know.” You looked awkward standing in the middle of the empty room, so out of place.
Soobin felt out of place too, like his body wasn’t his. He stared at his hands, his long legs, his feet. It didn’t feel like his.
His mouth was moving on its own too. It didn’t feel like his.
“What else should I change?” He could hear himself say. “If you don’t like my friends, I’ll stop hanging out with them. If it’s the way I dress, I’ll change it too!”
He dropped to his knees, eager eyes meeting your concerned gaze as he crawled towards you. You tried to back away but he gripped your calves before you could. “If it was something I did, then please forgive me.” His voice was glazed with desperation and frenzy.
“Soobin, I see you as a friend. I’m sorry.”
None of his body felt like his. They all have a mind of their own.
“Wasn’t I your ideal type?” He choked out. “I changed everything for you! Why am I still not the one you want?”
“I’m sorry!”
“What else do I have to change? Tell me,”  He pleaded, pulling onto your legs as you tried to  shake him off without kicking him in the face.
And you left just like that, Soobin clutching at the wind as he tried to figure it out.
What else should he change?
—yeonjun
He laughed. Loud cackles, echoed in the empty space as he stared at you incredulously. There was no humour, dry and borderline mocking as he stepped closer to you.
“No? What makes you think you can say no to me?” He cocked his head to the side, a glint of curiosity disappeared as quickly as it appeared.
You backed away.
“Huh? No?” The toes of his sneakers scuffed the ground as he kicked them in frustration. “Seriously, who do you think you are?”
Was he mad? Maybe. Yeonjun wouldn’t say he got a lot of ‘no’s in his entire life. It was always yes, sure, of course. But was he really angry? Not exactly. He would say he felt slightly ruffled, slightly irritated. Like you could see the artwork on display, but it’s not yours. You can’t touch it, you can’t bring it home. Your hands would curl, and you would think of possessing it, but no matter what, it still couldn’t become yours. You never can own it.
It was things like that, things that he couldn’t get his hands on that makes his blood pulse madly under his skin. Like bugs that wouldn’t stop crawling over his body, desire was that itch he can’t pinpoint.
He got close enough to smell adrenaline on your skin, acrid like sweat and heavy like blood.
“You’re scared?” Yeonjun couldn’t help giggling. It was hilarious, how you acted all high and mighty when you rejected him, but now you were trembling with your hair sticking to your forehead.
“Shouldn’t have said no then,” He spat. His fingers twisted tightly around your locks, dragging you forward. You shrieked, grabbing his wrist in a silent plea for him to have mercy on your burning scalp.
Yeonjun tugged your head upwards, bringing your face close to him. “Still saying no?”
—beomgyu
“But I don’t understand,” He huffed.
It wasn’t like he wasn’t trying to comprehend your perspective. He just cannot. No idea why at all.
A guy like him has got it all, from looks to personality. Beomgyu was certain he is the living reincarnation of a man written by a woman. Everything that encompasses his being was simply the very thing every woman looks for.
He was so sure. Beomgyu was so sure you were going to say yes.
Now, you were rejecting him?
He doesn’t understand. He doesn’t think he wants to. There can’t be any logical reasoning behind your answer.
“Are you not going to say yes?” His voice was unsteady when he gripped your upper arm, shaking you a little like if he waved you about hard enough, he might be able to disperse whatever haze that settled on your mind. Whatever it was that made you reject him. You were simply not in your right mind, right?
“Give me a reason then. I don’t think you can,” He urged, the grasp turning tighter. “You’re not thinking right.”
“Beomgyu—,”
“Tell me why!” He hissed, voice dripping with venom. “Why? Am I not good enough?”
You were wide-eyed, fear dripping from every minuscule twitch of your features. He caught it, a small smirk working its way across his face.
“There’s no reason, is there?” He relaxed his hold on you. “If you can’t tell me why you don’t like me, then that just means you like me. It’s either this or that.”
“That’s not—,”
“It’s simple, really. You either like me or you don’t,” Beomgyu cut you off, sighing like you were a five-year-old needing an uncomplicated worded explanation. “And since you can’t give me a simple explanation as to why you rejected me, it’s just not valid. That means you like me.”
He patted your head when you didn’t respond. “Since you like me, this also means we are dating.”
—taehyun
Taehyun wouldn’t say he is a sore loser. No, everything is a learning experience, the outcome does not matter so long as you do gain from it. Losses are to be accepted graciously, wins are not to be bragged about. All he was involved in had provided him with great opportunities to further build himself as a person.
At least that was who he thought he was. Maybe he really isn’t a sore loser, perhaps it was just you who messed his entire life up and made him question all he knew about himself. Questioning his sanity, his morale, his confidence right now as he confessed to you.
“I’m sorry.” You kept apologising. He didn’t know what to say. What were you supposed to say when the only person you’ve ever liked, loved if you may, said no to you? 
And was he supposed to comfort you when he was the one who got rejected? You were shifting uncomfortably, red with unease. Biting your lip, making it seem like he was the bad guy here.  The more you do that, the more people stared.
It was obvious that he got declined, Taehyun could feel the tips of his ears burning with shame as he stuffed the flower bouquet into his bag.
Scratch that, he is a sore loser. He didn’t want to lose this. Didn’t want to lose you. Mostly, he also didn’t want to lose face.
Taehyun nodded grimly, offering you low mumbles of ‘it’s fine, you don’t have to apologise’, tugging your sleeve to hurry you both off the curious glances.
A sore loser like him can’t take defeat, right? He’d just have to try harder. Different strategies, different ways. Trial and error, everything he did would just give him more insight on how to make you his own. You’ll fold in time, you’ll understand his need to win you over.
If you don’t, he’ll just win by force then.
—huening kai
Telltale signs of tears were the red of his eyeballs, the fluttering of his dainty lashes as he clenched his fist in response to your reply. He can’t allow you to see the protruding veins on his arms from how hard his nails were digging anxious crescents into his palms, so they went into the pockets instead.
No, Kai was only going to let you see what he wanted you to. So he sniffed, soft brown eyes staring into the distance as he watched you racked your mind to let him down gently. From your expression, from the awkward silence after he told you how he feels, it was obvious you do not return them.
“Kai,” You exhaled, nibbling on your lower lip as your troubled eyes scanned his face. His eyebrows furrowed, plump lips turned downwards as he blinked back the disappointment threatening to spill from his eyes.
“I know,” He cleared his throat, “I understand. But I like you so much,” 
He trembled, nails picking off the extra strands of fabric from his ripped jeans. “I like you so, so much.”
A stray tear escaped, the single droplet sitting on his cheek, like an embellishment that screamed for your attention. Kai glanced carefully at you, how your expression twisted from stressed to distraught. He shot you a beseeching stare, silently pleading for you to change your mind.
“Look,” You sighed, placing a cautious hand on his arm. “Maybe we can try…try and see where this leads to?” Voice dripping with forced amiability, you looked on as his face brightened up in a blink as you had just imagined him being oh, so sad.
He held on to your pinky, a large grin replacing all sorrow lacing his features, thanking you meekly as he led you down the street.
Kai knew waterworks were effective. Who could resist a pretty boy’s tears?
1K notes · View notes
papercupids · 2 years
Text
yandere!hyung line (svt); headcanons
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pairing -> yandere!hyung line x fem!reader (excluding woozi because, well, ask lacey)
reaction -> to the reader trying to leave them
note -> please dni if you're not comfortable w yandere topics, thank you.
word count -> around 2k
warnings -> typical yandere stuff? mentions of blood + knives, emotional manipulation.
a/n -> there's a lack of yandere svt content on this app and i'm here to fix it but first and foremost, this is for the loml @haet-sal <3 luv ya
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SEUNGCHEOL.
after weeks of throwing tantrums, crying your eyes out, trying not to eat or drink anything he gives you, and flinching every time he even comes as much as 5 ft near you, you had found out it wont work. but you couldn't place if it was because he was persistent or he just loved you that much.
but now, you had adopted another scheme, an act, an act of slowly being coaxed into whatever fantasy seungcheol had been brewing in his mind.
blinking your eyes and smiling at him whem he says he loves you, shaking your head slowly when he offers to take you out (part of the plan was convincing him that you just don't want to go out anymore)
but so far you had been a good actor, you hadn't seen his disappointed face in about a month so you'd say you were safe.
when he leaves for work, he turns the key twice in the lock, and his shoes tap on the porch an exact 12 times as he leaves, this part you've taken away from being deprived of any means of entertainment and he's gone after that.
he comes back around at 6, again the 12 taps and the two turns of the key.
this was a routine, and as much as you wanted to just push past him one of the times when he opened the door, you knew you wouldn't make it quite far so you waited. waited for the right moment to pounce on your freedom.
and it comes in the form of a phone call, a phone call from work you assume but about which you know you'll hear at dinner tonight, but only if you stuck around that long because there were no turns of the key today, just 12 fast paved steps then the engine whirring and he's gone.
you can't believe it! the door was right in front of you and it was open!
you touch the door and trace the lines on it slowly to make sure you aren't dreaming and then push it open, the healthy, warm glow of the sunlight breathes new life into you and your feet are against the wooden floor.
but you should have known better, in your excitement of the door being open, you might not have heard the car pull up again in the driveway. the person analysing you realizes that the smile you've been giving him all the time was a stage smile and this … this was the real deal, pure happiness on your face.
but you've seen him and its too late to go back in and pretend you weren't out so back.
"y/n," he slams the car door shut and approaches you, he's not angry but he's not pleased either.
"can we go back in? please?"
you nod, you've accepted defeat. for some reason you can't move even though you should have, you follow him inside the place you never thought you'd be back to again.
"what were you doing?"
no answer, there's no way you could get out of this.
"were you going to abandon me?"
He's sitting on the sofa now, his elbows on his knees and his face in his palms.
and he looks at you, "abandon me? after all i've done for you? the way i love you?"
you close your eyes and begin "i'm sorry, seungcheol, this won't happen again,"
"yeah, it won't because i'm not gonna leave you alone again,"
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JEONGHAN.
jeonghan smiled, he stood there at the empty road, with no actual reason to. but he did.
"baby, i know you're here, it's over, you can't run anywhere,"
you clasp your hand on your mouth, trying not to even breath because you were skeptical you could give yourself away.
even in your shorts and a thin t-shirt, you could not feel the November air on you, that was how scared you were.
jeonghan stood under the golden streetlight, an alley opened up in front of it and that's where he was sure you would be hiding. there's no other place.
the knife he was holding glistens in the dull light as he boringly swipes it across air.
"baby,"
you know you shouldn't have taken the bait, jeonghan never ever does anything without an ulterior motive. you should have known that, learnt that.
so when he purposefully began leaving for menial errands he could have made someone else do for him, you should have known he had plans behind it.
but when you're drowning you won't see if the boat that's saving you has holes or not, you'll jump.
and that's what you did, you jumped.
but unbeknownst to you, he was doing this purposefully, sort of like a test for you.
to check your "loyalty", check if you're trustworthy enough yet.
and he was now… disappointed.
he didn't expect his baby to leave him.
not when he loves you as much as he does, cares for you, makes sure your needs are met, everything he's done for you and you… you betray him?
thank god he decided to do this, because what if, hypothetically you were able to do this without him being here? not that it would happen ever, jeonghan always had his guard up.
he's standing there still and this time with a more sing-songy voice, he calls out to you again.
"baby, come out now," his voice is so sweet, honey almost and you could never imagine what this man was capable of.
jeonghan sighed and looked the rest of the street, was it possible you weren't here?
you finally feel your muscles relax as his footsteps fade a little, but not entirely letting yourself feel happy, you knew you were far from free from him.
but you dared to look out, and it was empty, the street, like he was never even there at the first place.
you slowly muster up courage to step through the dark corners of the alley into the light, just to -
"baby," its like some sound a haunting doll makes, the cold isn't the only reason you have goosebumps all over your body.
he holds out your hand, as if nothing has happened, as if you weren't throwing things at him a few minutes ago in the house.
"let's go home, baby,"
and you look into his eyes, hauntingly mesmerising, but you can't help but fear him so you intertwine your hands with his.
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JOSHUA.
you turn the door knob, and in any instance you would be fearing he might pounce on you but right now, you were free and he was the one locked inside his own bathroom, you knew it wouldn't be long though, because the latch could easily be unlocked by banging the door with pressure, you had experienced it yourself.
in any case though, you grabbed the car keys and practically ran to the car, wearing the shoes halfly and pressing the acclerator without even tying the laces, there was no better day to get the hell out of here.
you had no phone, though, to tell your parents the whole story, the whole truth about him but you ran past stop signals to the familiar road usually depressing with joshua at your side and having go pretend all was good and well with you and your fiancè. you can see the diamond shining as you take a turn into your driveway, quickly slamming the door behind you and impatiently ringing the bell.
"c'mon, open the door, quick," you paced around , knowing joshua would be on his way by now, it made you so anxious and as soon as your mother opened the door, you rushed inside and slammed it shut, looking out the window to check if he's there yet.
but you couldn't place the expression on her face as you started trying to explain the whole situation to them.
"are you kidding me, y/n? joshua already told us what you did. to hear about your own ward cheating, and on their fiancè? this is too much, y/n, this isn't how we raised you. and now you're trying to blame it all on him?"
you look around desperately for some sort of an explanation as to why your mother was willing to believe joshua more than you, but then he was ever the charmer.
"you don't understand, mom-"
"yeah, i clearly don't understand why he's still with you, he should have broken it off as soon he came to know but poor guy loves you. so behave because he's on his way to pick you up,"
you try to turn the door knob slowly but your heart sinks as you hear a car pull up in your driveway and then a halt, silence.
"mother-in-law! i'm here,"
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JUN.
"sh," he puts his finger on your lips as you attempt to stifle your sobs, undoubtedly, your face was a mess right now, but so was your throat, you'd spent the last 15 minutes screaming your throat out after you had found yourself in binds in a chair, and jun with his knife.
"tsk, tsk," he clicks his tongue slowly, an evil glint in his eyes.
never could you ever have imagined your best friend, the cheerfully shy guy who was too scared to even ask for a extra sugar packets, to be this, this person in front of you. it just messed with your brain.
but then again, you had never imagined that he'd have a crush on you either. 
he did look too long at you sometimes, smiking to himself afterwards but you couldn't decipher it. and now the "they don't deserve you," were suspicious.
he plays with the knife slowly, hovering around you. 
"wouldn't it have been better for the both of us if you just shut up and accepted my love? i'm not that bad, am i?"
he looks at you, and too scared to dare and defy him, you nod furiously.
"aw, babe,"
you couldn't have imagined this, not in a million years, because even after you politely told him you didn't think of him as beyond a friend, he'd sniffled softly and glanced at you, "can't we give this a try, once?"
"jun, you're great, but that would be injustice to us both," 
and you'd got up and got home, but the next thing you knew, you were here. where apparently screaming doesn't make much difference.
“Us. All I ever wanted was us. Is that truly too much to ask?”
you shake your head. 
"not much to talk about today? no more 'wait, that guy's hot' or 'omg, i'd die for this girl'?"
he shakes his head as he kneels down, forcing you to have eye contact with him.
"i was right there! why couldn't you ever see me?"
you couldn't speak. someone you trusted blindly until yesterday was someone you could now imagine stabbing.
and he places a strand of hair behind your ear.
"hell, even my crying couldn't make a difference to you, what kind of a friend are you, y/n?"
"but don't worry, now that i have you, i'll slowly teach you, to love me, and i don't mind you how slow you go, we have all the time in the world," dragging the 'all'.
"you're only mine, now,"
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HOSHI.
with a last glance at the home you've been staying in for the past three years, you walk out with a sigh, your chest feeling like it could just drop down at the floor below.
hoshi was nothing if not absolutely loving and caring, just a borderline sweetheart really. but you couldn't bear it anymore, and better, he deserved someone better than you, who could reciprocate that love or who deserved it more than you probably.
but you'd be lying if you said you didn't love him, his constant reassurances, the hand on your shoulders if you were ever worried about anything, the attempts to make you laugh, it was all just irrestible to not fall for.
he had raised your standards high and you couldn't believe you were walking away from such a perfect thing. it was a foolish thing to do.
but what will you even do now? without him to guide you?
what if you're losing him forever after this? because a part of you hoped that he tries to find you.
but what if he doesn't? the idea that he doesn't look for you makes you dread it and you can't sit in that train anymore. you need to go back.
it's not that you didn't think this through, you did, but actually doing it was harder than whatever thing you'd been planning for months and carefully doing it when he wasn't home so you wouldn't have to answer the question that his eyes would obviously hold and the answer that you were looking fot but couldn't give.
it was a pathetic situation to be in, you wanted his love but didn't think you deserved it, but now that you got off on a random stop and looked for the sub back to your apartment, you knew this was a bad idea.
the image of hoshi coming home to the note you'd left him made you hate yourself more, how could you do that to a person wjo had showered you with nothing but love?
and you went back, to the familiar doorway of your apartment, with hoshi standing right there reading the note.
"...what?"
your eyes answer before he can finish his question as tears start streaming down your face, how can you ever leave this person?
this was the face of someone you wouldn't be satisfied with even spending an eternity with.
it was the face of someone you loved, and someone who loved you back, whether you deserved it or not.
and you hug him, "i'm sorry,"
he rubs your back, comfortingly, "it's okay, you're home, that's what matters,"
and you sleep comfortably knowing you're loved and safe with him, that no matter what happens, even if the world ends tomorrow, you'd have him.
the next morning, you wake up with a strange, tight sensation around your wrists.
“Good morning! Sleep well? I hope the bindings aren’t too tight. Did you know you’re quite the restless sleeper?”
"hoshi? what's with the bindings?"
"well, i need to make sure you don't run away again, did you know how worried i was last night? i thought i lost you, really,"
he cups your face.
"i don't want to lose you again,"
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WONWOO.
your boyfriend's bestfriend, if someone asked you, you'd reply in adjectives. nice, calm, sweet and caring. it was what you noticed of him when sometimes you'd hang out together, its what you would tell somebody if they were interested in him.
"...wonwoo, i love mingyu, you're my friend,"
you weren't bound or anything, just sat down on the floor of his apartment by choice, he'd have you sitting on the most expensive of chairs if he could, but strangely you still wanted the love of the man who clearly didn't love you the way you deserved to be loved? how was that possible?
his black hair covered his eyes a little but you knew his eyes were red.
"no, i won't have it. you don't deserve him! i can be better than him!" 
albeit you had found out that he was cheating, you couldn't let go of himself and certainly not fall in love with his best friend that just seemed like a weird foundation of a relationship. and you tried to explain it to him again.
"wonwoo.."
he doesn't respond, instead just gets up from his seat on the side of the bed and walks out, slamming the front door shut. 
immediately, you jump to your feet and pick up your bag from the bedside table, something you'd been eyeing in the dimly lit room since you sat in the corner. and there it was, your key to freedom! your phone!
emergency contact, mingyu. swallowing your pride, you dial the number, it rings and rings but gets sent to voicemail.
way to mess up again, mingyu.
"he won't pick up," wonwoo swipes the phone right out of your hands.
you get back on your alert mode, distancing yourself from him as much as possible.
"i've called the police, stay away,"
"wrong, you only had enough time to call your precious mingyu who didn't even pick up,"
and that's when he turns on the lights, his grey shirt is splattered with blood.
"oh, don't worry, this blood isn't mine, i have a gift for you in the car,"
430 notes · View notes
holybibly · 27 days
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𝔗𝔢𝔞𝔠𝔥𝔢𝔯'𝔰 𝔭𝔢𝔱 | Mingi x reader
Pairing: Professor Mingi x cam girl | student reader Summary: You hated Professor Song Mingi wholeheartedly. He was young, successful, too handsome to benefit himself, and сonfident as the devil himself. The living embodiment of all your red flags - 10 out of 10 on the "rich, narcissist, idiot" list. At the same time, Song Mingi was the sexiest, most gorgeous man you'd ever seen. But what will you do when Professor Song discovers your dirty little secret? And that he might be too interested in giving you a private lesson in good manners? Genre / Au / Trope : Smut, University!AU, Sex Work!AU, Non-idol!AU, sugar daddy, student х teacher, forbidden relationships, cam girl. Rating: 18+ / 21+ / MDNI Word count: 10.3 k Warnings: Unprotected sex, stomach bulge, fingering, degrading, pet names, size kink, face fucking, dirty talk, explicit sexual content, explicit language, squirting, pussy slapping, oral, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, сreampie, rough sex, masturbation, humiliation, blow jobs, rough oral, power play, spanking, orgasm delay, sex toys (dildo, sex machine), sex work and more. net: @cultofdionysusnet A|N: This ff has been in my drafts for a very long time and was supposed to be a really sweet "gift" for my bunnies. But for various reasons, it didn't turn out the way I had planned, and I'm personally not entirely happy with what I've written. But I tried too hard, so I'm posting it. I hope that the bunnies will be pleased with the amount of debauchery and lust that I am about to offer you.
Bunnies, Professor Song is waiting for you in the lecture hall.
ℌ𝔬𝔩𝔶 𝔅𝔲𝔫𝔫𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝔗𝔞𝔤 𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱 @tiny-apocalypse @captain-joongz @alicedawitchbish @woohwababes @wlv-asteria @wisejudgedragonhairdo @mingisprincesss @lavishloving @teagietots @spooo00oky @sousydive @hwapou @bunnliix @softwsan @mjyungi @fantasy2wonderland @noirsfantasy @cassies-cookies @renaholicss @luffypants @hyukssunflower @watermelon2319 @peachygiku @bunnyxoxodarling @stolasisyourparent @soranosnowbunny @certifiedmoa @sanglix @slvtiny @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @hecateslittlewitchling @xxawl @pastellbunno @starlletsblog @seonghwasstar @hwanring @vtyb23 @pearltinyy @minjaeum @chasevixx @bomi-ja @onedumbho3 @sanglix @cursedeastern @itza-meee @pinkies-things @atinism @mxnsxngie @nenefix-on @therealcuppicake @annafeebou @sharksandminhos @@lixies-pixieboy @@vampzity
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The real life of a student is not always as fun and glamorous as it might seem at first glance. If you think university life is an endless whirlwind of parties and passionate romances, then I'm sorry to disappoint you. Student life is nothing more than tonnes of homework, endless stress, and litres of coffee, which you probably drink on an empty stomach because you've been up all night studying for the next 'ultra-important' lesson, and of course impossibly annoying and boring professors who seem to be just waiting for the moment to ruin your life. So when there was an announcement at the beginning of the new term that your group would have a new French literature professor, you were completely oblivious. Your previous professor had been a boring, retired man with an unhealthy obsession with young female students and cigarettes who always left his classroom reeking of tobacco, so you didn't expect much from another 'amazing' professor. But, God, you were wrong. Professor Song Mingi was maybe, just maybe, the most handsome and attractive man you had ever seen in your life. With his elegant and chiselled features, he could definitely pass for a haute couture model. His body was an art form in itself and the hottest topic of discussion in the entire university, not only among the crowd of blushing girls in love but also among the female faculty members. 
The way his perfectly pressed classic shirts fit his broad-shouldered, muscular body and the tight, expensive fabric of his pants tightened over his thick, juicy thighs, outlining every muscle, could leave no one indifferent, and even you gave in to the temptation of checking his Instagram profile, especially on lonely evenings. In your defence, you weren't the only one who started fondling herself when thinking of Professor Song Mingi. After all, how could you resist when the man was literally a walking list of the categories on Pornhub? But while Professor Song was a wet dream come to life, he was also the biggest jerk you've ever met. And there were more than a few of them. He was 10 out of 10 on your red flag list: arrogant, narcissistic, annoying, and impossibly self-centred. The world seemed to revolve around him as he looked down on everyone from his lofty perch. 
Seriously, every time you thought he couldn't be more handsome and sexy, Mingi would rush out to prove otherwise, driving everyone around him crazy, but in the process, you found even more horrible traits that both excited you and made you hate him with all your heart. 
And it seemed that you weren't the only one to feel hatred and resentment, as Professor Song, for reasons unknown to you, decided to make your life a living hell, infuriating you with his every word and action. No matter how hard you tried, you just couldn't live up to Mingi's high standards, and you always ended up at the very bottom of his class. In all seriousness, the man treated you as if he had the proverbial stick in his arse 24 hours a day. But God, that arse, if you had the chance, you would have loved to sink your teeth into it. It was juicy and firm, and it just created an irresistible urge to hold it in your palms and pull his body closer as Professor Song fucked you hard into the mattress. All in all, if Mingi had been able to hold his lectures standing with his back to the students all the time, as a good student, you would have wanted a seat in the front row, but hell, that was a pipe dream because Professor Song Mingi found a new way to drive you to hysteria every time. 
It was really fucked up; you were rewriting your report for the third time, and it looked like you were going to keep on doing it for an indefinite amount of time. It didn't matter to Professor Song that everyone who read your report praised what you said and thought or that you spent a lot of time writing it, sacrificing sleep and nerve cells. But it seemed that nothing could live up to Mingi's standards, which no mortal could ever hope to reach—except for himself, of course. 
"Your report lacks depth and understanding of the subject; I'm afraid you weren't paying enough attention while I lectured, Y/N. Did you have more important things to do than listen? Your report is not very good for a student in the third year. I am going to have to ask you to make significant changes; otherwise, you will not be able to pass in my class. Don't let me down this time, or I'll have to take even more serious measures against you."
As if all you ever thought about was being a good girl for him, slobbering all over him, and giving him obedient nods. He can go fuck himself. You hated Song Mingi so much. 
French literature was always the first class of the day on a Friday, and it was absolutely terrible. After listening to Professor Song lecture for two hours in his deep, pornographic voice, you usually spend the rest of the day looking grumpy and depressed. And to top it all off, Mingi decided to wear one of his most stunning black designer classic shirts today, in which he unbuttoned a few buttons so that everyone around him could admire his stunningly smooth skin, which you wanted to lick. You swear that this man is a true spawn of hell, sent to earth to be your tormentor and sexual frustration. Needless to say, as well as he ruining your mood, your panties were hopelessly ruined by the sticky juices that tickled your labia whenever you moved. 
"Good, at least this day is finally over."  You mutter tiredly to yourself as you enter the dormitory that you share with your best friend, who you can't seem to see anywhere at the moment, which is understandable since it's Friday.
Shit, it's Friday; how could you forget it? Damned Professor Song Mingi. You forgot you were supposed to be streaming tonight because you were so caught up in the whole situation. 
You hadn't planned to do this all along. It was just a one-time thing to pay off some debts, but money is a real drug that you get addicted to too quickly. But it wasn't just the money; it was the attention. The huge amount of attention you got from your followers was so sweet and exciting that it was impossible to refuse. So, like most other poor girls, it was no surprise that you got sucked into sex work and webcamming too quickly. It was good money that paid your way through university and your way of life without much thought for the future. You received thousands of comments from people who were desperate to fuck that pretty pink cunt of yours, as they had always told you, or to do many other lewd and horrible things to you. You weren't ashamed to admit that you had always been an attention whore, and their words and praise made you want more. It gave you confidence in your body and gave you immense power over those on the other side of the screen, just because of your well-groomed little cunt.
With an excited smile on your face, you walk to your room and remember the package that was delivered to you this morning. A very special gift that you are hoping will be the highlight of this evening's stream. You give a slight squeak as you see a beautiful black box made of heavy, expensive cardboard sitting in the middle of your bed, with a small envelope on top of it. You pick it up, sit down on the bed, and bite your plump lower lip in anticipation. The envelope looks like it came from one of those books of gothic literature that you love so much. It's as black as the box it came in, with a blood-red wax seal in the middle.
As you carefully remove the seal, revealing the small note inside, your whole body subconsciously warms.
"I hope this will make you think of me, doll." Le Maître 
The white ink on the black matte paper looks too formal, and you're a little disappointed that the note isn't handwritten. But just to be on the safe side, there's no hint as to who the mysterious sender of the parcel might be. After all, for your own safety, you had to accept the parcel under a made-up pseudonym. 
Le Maître. You practically squealed like a schoolgirl when this user first appeared in your paid private chatroom after one of your streams. There were a few other people there, but Le Maître was different; he was regal and bossy to you despite the fact that he paid to jerk off on your body. He was your number one viewer, attending every stream, sending you huge amounts of money, and complimenting and praising you. By now, you can definitely see that you've developed an unhealthy obsession with praise ever since the first time he referred to you as his "good girl."
Just a few days ago, he sent you a text message saying that he wanted to do something special for you—a little gift in celebration of the fact that your account now has over 25,000 subscribers. The gorgeous gift box on your lap is a special gift, and you have an inkling of what's inside the decadent scarlet corrugated paper. You impatiently rifle through the layers of wrapping paper and gasp when you see what you have received—a little sex machine. As you inspect the shiny, erotic pleasure device, you notice a small piece of paper attached to the sturdy, mechanical body of the machine.  "A special gift for my angel, who already has more than 25,000 subscriptions. You are such a sweet girl. Please use it in your next stream so your Maître can see it. P.S. I have a controller, Dolly."
You swallow loudly, feeling a nervous shiver run through your body and heat build in the pit of your stomach; you're sure your pussy is already wet with a strangely arousing anticipation, juices dripping down the quivering folds onto your lace panties. Fuck, he's really going to fuck you, thanks to this sex machine. Your attention will be drawn to the large dildo that is attached to the mechanism. It's thick and long, with lots of veins running down the shaft, mimicking the swollen veins on a real cock. It's cold and textured to the touch, and you can imagine how shiny and smooth it will be when your cum runs down it. You squeeze your thighs together in excitement, looking forward to using it tonight and putting on a show for your audience that they won't forget for a very long time. You put your 'gift' to one side and get out of bed to get ready for your weekly stream. 
"Hello, bunnies! Are you ready for this evening?" You chirp, your voice sweet and luscious with a slightly childish, innocent tone, as you shyly rub the strap of your sheer lace lingerie. "Tonight I'm going to show you something different from my usual show; as you all know, by now I've reached 25,000 followers." You fidget slightly on the bed, twirling a strand of your long hair around your finger. You purse your lips, knowing that the shimmering lip gloss makes your mouth look just fuckable. 
The mini-sex machine is standing on a pouffe out of the camera's view, and you take a deep breath to calm your excitement before you lean closer to the camera so that everyone can see your face and how plump and juicy your tits look in that bra. Luckily, this site doesn't allow screenshots and will quickly ban any user who dares to do so; otherwise, you could be in big trouble. 
"You're all so nice to me; you deserve to enjoy my face. Today,  I'd like to be a little closer to you. Don't I look especially pretty today?" 
One by one, the comments come in, and you giggle at everyone's excitement. 
"Goddamn, you're beautiful." "I want to cum on that pretty face of yours, baby."  "Your face is making me so horny, sweetie." "These lips are made to suck cock." "You're so pretty; are you going to be an obedient kitty for Daddy?"
We all have our own dirty little secret that we carefully hide, and it happened that the secret of the seemingly arrogant and fastidious Professor Song Mingi was that his regular nightly routine involved watching livestreams of pretty webcam girls with small, tight pussies. A man has needs; sue him for that, and being so busy with work and surrounded by a crowd of hormonal, giggling university students every day, he doesn't have the time or energy to find a connection. And Mingi doubted that anyone could satisfy his sexual appetite. He had always been overly demanding in everything he did, and sex was no exception. Mingi wanted to find a perfect little doll who he could fuck and spoil as much as he wanted; he needed a sweet mouth and free access to a tiny pussy, and in return, he would be happy to give the cute doll his black credit card.
One evening, he found one who immediately caught his attention, and not just because of her pretty, juicy tits and doll-like, shiny mouth, while he was browsing through the numerous profiles of various girls. You were so adorable and innocent-looking, but completely slutty. It was an instant match made in heaven for Mingi. Imagine his surprise when he saw you the first day he started working at the university. You were his student, his sweet little student, the girl he had shameless fantasies about all the time. He thought that he should feel disgusted with himself, or at least ashamed, but to be honest, Mingi didn't care; your cunt was pink and tight, and that was enough to make him forget all sense of decency.
Mingi doesn't know how he feels about it, but the way his cock gets hard just at the sight of you means he'll be getting his money's worth and enjoying the show. His classic black shirt is unbuttoned, revealing his embossed abs and golden, luscious skin dripping with sweat. He unzips his trousers and pulls out his big, throbbing cock, which jerks at the sight of you in the slutty lingerie you have bought with his money. He hisses softly, biting his plump lower lip, his eyes fixed on the cleft between your tits. Mingi desperately wants to fuck your breasts.
"Someone very special has sent me a beautiful gift, my darlings, and I am definitely going to make use of it today." Your cheeks are burning from all the lewd comments, but it is only turning you on more and more, making your pussy even wetter and more needy.
You sit down on the bed, bend down until you can't see the chatter, and pull the ottoman between your legs to the edge of the bed. The sound of the incoming tips becomes loud and constant as soon as the erotic device appears in the frame.
Mingi slowly strokes his thick, veiny member with his hand, clutching the small sex machine controller in his other large hand. He can't help but wonder what it would be like to be the one to destroy your pretty pussy with his cock. His dark eyes bore into yours as he bit down hard on his lower lip and used the pad of his thumb to circle the already-leaking red head of his cock. If only he were able to fuck you right now.
You take a bottle of vanilla lube and smear it on the dildo, moaning loudly as you run your hand from the base to the head several times, tracing the ridges with your fingers to simulate veins, imagining that this is the dick of a certain professor. God, you hate and adore Professor Song at the same time; he is the star of all your most depraved and vulgar fantasies, which is why you always cum so hard and profusely. Fortunately, when you collapse during your orgasm, you have enough control over your mouth to keep from moaning his name.
With your other hand, you pull your pretty panties aside and run your fingers through your wet folds, spreading them slightly and showing off your wetness.
"Fuck, your pussy is so nice." "You've played with yourself before; you're already so wet." "Give me a lick of your pussy, angel."
The comments go on and on, as do the messages about the tips while you are gently massaging your pussy. You close your eyes, bite your lip and let out a soft moan as the pad of your middle finger makes contact with your sensitive clit.
"Damn it, I wish I could have your fingers playing with my pussy right now," you whine. Your free hand pulls down your bra straps, exposing your breasts to the camera, your nipples hardening with growing pleasure. You take the nipple between your fingers and gently twist and pull at it. Your pussy is leaking, the transparent, viscous mucus enveloping your fingers, making them shiny and smooth, and running down your milky thighs, leaving a wet, cold trail.
You imagine Professor Song's long fingers penetrating you, stretching your tight hole, and preparing you for the insertion of his dick into your pussy. Mingi has breathtakingly beautiful hands—wide palms, thick, long fingers, always adorned with rings and bracelets. Fuck, just to feel those rings inside you, pressing against the silky hot walls of your pussy, you would do anything. You circle your fingers around the wet, quivering edge of your hole before you slip two fingers inside, your soft walls tightening around them in an instant. Your other hand stops playing with your nipples and reaches out for the toy that is about to fuck you to death.
Your breathing becomes uneven, your chest rising and falling with your moans and gasps. Your fingers run over the silky walls of your pussy a couple of times before you start to fuck yourself to death at a fast and furious pace. Your eyes roll back in pleasure as you stick out your tongue and let it drip onto your naked tits.
You know the effect you have on your audience; they love seeing someone so sweet and angelic looking like a slutty whore, and to get more praise and tips, you pull your fingers out of your cunt and slap your pussy with them. The loud signal of the incoming tip is echoed by the wet, disgusting sound of your hand touching your skin.
"Oh daddy, I want your cock so bad; my pussy is throbbing for you," you say. You hold your fingers up to the camera to show how wet they are with your slick. "I'm such a sweet Daddy; I want you to eat me up. I promise I'll come on your tongue like a good girl." You put your fingers in your mouth; you lick them, suck them, and slurp around them. The moans you make sound more like whimpering than something soft and melodic.
On the other side of the screen, Mingi is moaning in a guttural way as he leans back in the big leather chair in his home office, squeezing and massaging his balls as he enjoys the wet slurping sounds that you are making. His cock is pressed against his hard belly, the viscous pre-cum dripping from the head of it and flowing between the reliefs of his abs. His eyes roll back in his head as he imagines fucking your cunt with his nimble fingers, stretching your tight little hole in preparation for his hard fucking. You will be moaning loudly and writhing as your juices flood his hand and run down his sinewy forearm.
You get on your knees on the bed and adjust the toy so that it's right in front of your dripping hole, holding your knickers so that they don't block the view of your pussy. You are already looking so messed up. A long string of mucus is coming out of your hole, straight onto the toy, and the strokes are coming in at a crazy rate. You look straight into the camera with your big innocent eyes; your lips are pouting sweetly. Mingi hisses at this, grabs his dick, and squeezes it several times. The fingers of his other hand are flicking the switch on the controller of the sex machine.
"Please, sir, I've been such a good girl for you. Are you going to fuck me now?" You are licking your lips with the tip of your tongue, and you are lowering your pussy down onto the artificial dick. The silicone is cold and smooth, and the contrast in temperature between it and your hot pussy makes you moan loudly and for a long time.
Mingi growls, the desire coursing through him as he hears the respectful title that falls from your plump lips, in the same way that you address him as "Sir" in class when you turn up for his lecture, and it drives him mad. He turns the dial, and the car comes to life and begins to move. Your eyes lose their focus, and your mouth falls open as the toy begins to move inside of you. Your fingers spread your labia, and you show the audience how the dildo is slowly stretching your tight little hole. The size of the toy is huge, despite the artificial penis being cold and lifeless, but that doesn't change the fact that it is tearing you apart. Your legs tremble as you try to maintain a stable position on the bed. Your toes curl as you begin to play with your swollen, sensitive clit, stimulating yourself further and causing more of the sticky, slippery fluid to gush out of you.
Mingi watched intently through the screen as you writhed and moaned; the toy was finally buried completely inside you, and he could see its impressive size causing your belly to bulge. Damn it! He can bet his bottom dollar that the silicone head of the dick is in direct contact with your cervix. When he sees how greedily your cunt swallows the toy, his predatory dark eyes flash, and he swallows noisily. You can take his cock like a good girl, and he'll see to it that it happens soon. Even though this toy is much bigger than any you've fucked your cunt with in previous streams, Mingi doesn't give you time to get used to its size. But he knows that in reality, you are an absolute slut who lives for the cock and that you can easily take anything that is given to you.
The sex machine picks up speed, and you scream loudly as you feel the fake veins on the dildo drag along the walls of your body with every mechanical movement—your hands cupping and massaging your breasts, your fingers pinching your swollen nipples. The pleasure coursing through your veins, your moans growing louder by the minute, and your head falling back. Your thoughts turn to Professor Song, of course.
God, that man—the way your body has reacted to him has been completely abnormal. Professor Song Mingi is an absolute asshole, and all he does is bully you and ruin your grades. But fuck, you wanted it so much—to destroy your pussy with his dick. You hate every part of his gorgeous appearance—that stupid long hair, a weird shade of orange that looks damn good on him, those sharp fox eyes that always look at you with judgement. There's such disgust and contempt in his eyes; it's like he's saying, "You're a worthless whore," and God, you really want him to address you like that, especially in that porn voice that makes your pussy leak.
Under your fingers, what will his hair feel like? Will it be as soft to the touch as it is to the eye? What will his eyes be like? Will they be filled with unbridled hunger as his long, slick tongue flicks across your clit? Will his deep voice vibrate against your skin as he moans softly and tastes you in his mouth? Will his big, rough hands be gripping your hips, digging their fingers into the soft flesh until you're bruised and scratched, holding you still as he buries his face in your cunt as if he couldn't live without it for a single day? All these vivid erotic images flash through your brain, the constant beeping of the donors just background noise as you imagine your professor's deep, velvety voice commanding you to cum.
"Wish you could fuck me now. Oh fuck! Please, sir, fuck your pretty little doll properly." You moan loudly as the speed of the sex machine increases, all the words blending together. The whirring sound of the machine synchronises with the rapid beating of your heart as the silicone cock thrusts into you, lewd squelching fills the room, and your moans and cries become longer and more pitiful, like a cat in heat, as your orgasm begins to build rapidly.
"Oh sir, I'm thinking about the way your dick is sliding between my legs. Is it as thick and as big as this toy? Are you going to feed your doll with your cum?"
There are few things in this world that can make Professor Song Mingi lose his balance, but the sight of his cute little student fucking her dripping, plump cunt with the toy he has given her is definitely the one thing that makes his jaw drop. You are fucking beautiful, a real doll that Mingi would like to sit on a velvet cushion in his house and admire like a work of art. He knows you're about to come—your cheeks are flushed, your lips are parted in a perfect orgasmic "oh,"  your trembling little hand reaches for your clit to rub the throbbing bundle of nerves and bring you to the desired climax, and your eyes are so closed you can hardly see.
Mingi's hand glides a little faster over his dick; it's slippery and shiny with the sperm that leaks out of it. At the same pace as you rub your aching clit, Mingi makes sharp, quick circles with his palm around his cock.
"Fuck!" Mingi growls as he grips the arm of the chair and pushes his hips into his hand, the massive bracelets around his wrist clanking as his hand comes down hard on his cock. As the sex machine fucks you hard and fast at top speed, the controller is forgotten on the table next to his laptop. Your piercing moans are music to his ears, and the way your thighs subtly tremble shows the immense pleasure he is indirectly giving you. Your head is thrown back, exposing your neck, and your hips roll on the toy, the juices from your vagina running down your ass and soaking the sheets beneath you, your juicy, plump tits bouncing with the movement of the sex machine.
"Sir, Daddy, please! Can I cum for you? Please let me come for you! I've been such a good girl for you!" You are shaking all over, your orgasm is growing stronger with each passing second, and you know that it is going to be amazing. The palm of your hand is slapping your pussy again, and the sounds of tipping over are coming with renewed force. What fucking perverts!
When he realises the effect he is having on you without even touching you, a tingle runs down Mingi's spine. He has complete control over your orgasm, and you will do whatever he wants without him interfering in your real life.
"Come for me, my doll." His voice is dark and deep, despite the force with which he fucks his hand, the leather chair creaking from the powerful thrusts of his thick, meaty thighs. As if you can hear him, you pinch your clit sharply and squeal deafeningly, your body shaking in small convulsions as you cum on a toy you imagine is Professor Song's dick. The walls of your pussy contract as you try to hold the fake cock inside you as you ride out your orgasm.
Mingi cum right after you, moaning gutturally, his eyes rolling back in his head as streams of cum spray onto his thighs and abs, his mind clouded by the orgasm, and he completely forgets that he hasn't turned off the toy that continues to mercilessly stuff your cunt. His attention is drawn back to you when he hears you squealing pitifully, the tears rolling down your face and smearing your make-up, and Mingi finds himself thinking that he would like to see the same look on your face when his dick is deep down in your throat.
"Oh my God, s-sir, turn it off! Please, I can't... Oh, bloody hell! Sir, I beg you..." You scream, the tears streaming freely down your face as the sex machine continues to fill your pussy with cock like there is no tomorrow, your hands gripping the sheets as the sensory overload washes over your body like a tidal wave.
Mingi looks at you with hunger and animal lust as he watches the toy abuse your used, dripping cunt. Of course, he could turn it off if he wanted to, but he doesn't because he knows that you could just lie back on the bed and put an end to your supposed agony, but you don't want to.
He gives you a devilish grin and licks his lips as he watches the fat tears roll down your flushed cheeks as you beg him to make it stop. Your whole body glistens with a subtle sheen of sweat, and as Mingi has watched your body countless times, he knows every reaction of yours—you will cum for him; he is sure of it.
"Oh god, damn, damn! I'm going to cum again, Daddy." You let out another loud squeal, your back arching as you come for the second time that night, and this time a clear stream of liquid shoots out of your pussy, soaking the sheets even more. The tipping sounds are louder than they were before, and if there was an audience in your room, they would definitely enjoy watching you squirt over and over again. Damn, you really put on a show for them that they won't forget in a hurry.
Mingi smiles with satisfaction and strokes his cock once more, this time prolonging his pleasure with lazy strokes as he watches you whimpering and twitching with the overwhelming pleasure of your orgasm. He is kind enough to put an end to your torment by picking up the controller unit from the table and turning off the sex machine. The loud mechanical whirring ceases as the toy stops fucking you. You slowly rise from your seat, the thick dildo sliding out of your pussy—glossy and wet with your essence. You whimper quietly, still too sensitive, your chest heaving with heavy, ragged breaths. The next thing you do is make Mingi sink teeth into his lower lip until it starts to bleed.
"Let me clean you, Daddy; you have been so good to me today. My cunt feels so warm and full." Your pretty, plump lips wrap around the fake cock's head, smacking sweetly before shoving the larger half of the toy into your mouth, sucking and licking with your tongue like a real cock. After tasting the juices running down the length of the silicone, you close your eyes and moan.
Your brain forms images of how you would do this to Mingi, choking on his cock, swallowing it to the base, tickling his balls with the tip of your tongue; sucking him like a good girl, licking every swollen vein along its huge velvety length, and you know Professor Song has a big, thick dick. You think about how he will grab your hips, slap your butt cheeks hard, and penetrate your needy, horny cunt with one hard thrust until his balls are slapping against your ass. Fuck, you really want Professor Song to destroy you, and this desire almost overshadows the hatred you feel for this man.
Snap back to reality, and you're practically crawling over to your laptop with innocent, tear-stained eyes before pulling the toy out of your mouth with a wet pop and smiling brightly at the camera as if you hadn't just been ruined by a silicone dick. Your mouth is shiny and wet from a mixture of saliva, sticky pink lip gloss, and your juices.
"Fuck, that was so hot."
"I'd like you to splash on my cock as well, honey."
"Wow, baby, I didn't know you could do that. Will you squirt on my face if I pay you?"
"I want to cum in your cunt so bad, sweet cheeks, daddy must keep you full and pretty with his cum."
"You're so fucking beautiful, angel, I'll jerk off on your face every night."
"That was your best stream ever, princess."
All these comments are making you giggle. Men are really just horny animals; show them a nice pussy and they will be at your feet.
You spend some time interacting with the public, reading comments, and showing off your new toys and lingerie that you bought with the money you made from streaming. The cursor hovers over the bright red button, and before you press it to end the broadcast, you look straight into the camera, first slowly licking your lips, then slightly tilting your head to the side with the sweetest expression on your cute little face. It may seem that you are talking to all the viewers, but in fact you are talking to just one man, Le Maître.
"I hope you have enjoyed today's show, sir, and that you have had a lot of fun. But I really want you to use your real dick to make me cum and squirt so hard. I really, really want you to fuck me in real life, Daddy." You kissed and winked at everyone, and you finally finished your show.
Mingi couldn't sleep at all that night; after the show, he jerked off two or three more times, even using an artificial pussy, imagining he was fucking you instead of a cold silicone toy. He came so much that his cum was everywhere, even landing on his luxurious diamond-encrusted Rolex.
In contrast to your restless, overheated professor, you fell asleep almost immediately—tired and satisfied—from an amazing orgasm and from a huge amount of money that fell into your bank account after the stream had ended. Of course, your Le Maître was the biggest donor of all.
Next Friday
"I expect all of you to take this course more seriously and to have your homework done by Monday. From next week, there will be three more lectures on French literature in your course, so don't be a disappointment to me. The class is dismissed."
You sigh heavily, already anticipating the torment the extra pairings with Professor Song will bring you. Fuck, you hate him so much, but the sight of his thighs in those tight trousers should be illegal. That's a real crime against humanity. You gather your things and hope to get out of the stuffy lecture hall, which now always has the smell of pure sex—Professor Song's perfume. If you didn't know any better, you'd be thinking that the man was literally bathing in an aphrodisiac, because it's just not real to smell like that. You never thought you'd be turned on by someone else's perfume, but here we are, drooling on the floor at the incredibly sexy scent that Professor Song Mingi wears like a second skin. Sometimes you wonder: Does the bitch know how attractive he is? But he does, and he uses it to his advantage, judging by that smug, arrogant grin that always sits on those plump, sensual lips. 
You are just about to leave when you hear his deep, husky voice calling out your name. Oh no, not now. 
"I'd like to talk to you about your performance, Y/N." Mingi begins to speak slowly, stretching out the letters and putting emphasis on the last word. There is definitely a certain ambiguity in all this, which you can't quite make out. "What can you tell me about it?" He walks around his desk, leans his gorgeous butt against it, and crosses his arms over his chest. His poor shirt buttons try harder than the devil on a good day.
You tilt your head to the side in confusion and walk down the stairs, authematic, to be closer to him. Why is he asking you that now? Damn, he always finds the perfect time to throw you off balance. Your heart races, and you try to ground yourself, thinking about what an idiot he is and what strange things could be going on in that beautiful head of his. You struggled to read him; his stunning model face always had this arrogant royal expression that completely failed to convey his true feelings, so every time you talked to him, it was like playing with a big cat. 
"I think I'm all right, Sir. Why are you asking?" You stammer slightly, but when you hear Mingi's deep moaning, all your mental scolding about your nervousness quickly fades away. You stare at him with your eyes wide open in an attempt to comprehend what the hell is going on. Your eyes focus on Professor Song. The way your narcissistic jerk of a professor shamelessly adjusts his trousers, which now show a very noticeable bulge in his crotch.
Before you know it, you're standing right in front of him, and your nervousness has returned with a vengeance. He's even more handsome up close—classic glasses perched on the bridge of his perfect nose, his long fingers reaching up to remove them and place them on the table. He stares at you with his dark fox eyes, towering over your petite frame, as he carefully pulls the sleeves of his white shirt up to his elbows, revealing the massive bracelets around his wrists and the bulging veins on his forearms. God, does he have any idea of the effect this has on you? Too afraid to look him in the eye, you cast a glance at the small cross around his neck.
"Yes, you're doing very well. Too well, actually, aren't you, Y/N?" As his thumb runs down your soft cheek, tracing the outline of your mouth lower until he slides it between your parted lips, you almost gasp and feel like you're going to faint. You don't hear anything but your heart pounding in your ears. It feels like it's about to burst out of your chest. You stare at him helplessly as he presses the pad of his finger against your tongue, stroking it lightly. A devilish grin appears on his plump lips, replacing his usual bitchy expression with something more sinister and dangerous. "Such a beautiful little dolly, aren't you? So skilled with your fingers, so good with that pretty little doll mouth of yours, and you definitely know how to serve that little cunt of yours perfectly." Mingi whispers as he leans closer to you, his other hand reaching under your skirt and squeezing your bare bottom. Fuck, you definitely shouldn't have worn a thong today. "I'm sure you're playing with your sweet bottom, too, bunny." He continues to rub his thumb over your tongue for a few more moments, while his other hand gives your arse a hard massage that makes you squeal with pleasure. You're quite sure that the skin on your bottom is already red from his aggressive touch. As soon as Mingi stops touching you and pulls his hands away from you, crossing them over his broad chest, the situation comes back to you.
You are watching his every move, breathing heavily, letting your eyes glide over every pulsing vein on his forearms, and praying to God that you will have enough strength not to lean over and run the tip of your tongue over them. 
"P-Professor, I don't have a clue what you're talkin' about."
"Oh, darling, don't play innocent; you have a very clear idea of what I'm talking about. I'm really glad you found a good use for the gift I gave you last night, my angel." Professor Song's voice is a velvety whisper, and considering how quiet it is in the lecture theatre, he might as well have shouted, the meaning of his words ringing loudly in your ears. He's like a predator, slowly circling around you, the soles of his designer shoes clicking on the parquet floor. Your feet feel as if they are glued to the floor, and you don't know what to do. When you try to speak again, your voice sounds broken, and you are on the verge of tears. 
"Will there be a report against me, Professor Song? Or what? You haven't got any hard evidence that it's me." You say it with conviction, and hope springs, but unfortunately, it dies as soon as Mingi opens his mouth.
"That may be true, my dear. But you wouldn't want such terrible accusations to be made against you, would you? Mingi taunts you; his deep voice suddenly comes very close to your ear. You feel so unprotected in his presence, so tiny in comparison to his huge, tall body. Why does this man have to be so bloody big?
"They'll never know it was me who found your profile on the porn site; I could easily pass it off as an anonymous tip." You catch your breath as you feel his rough, hot hand slide under your skirt and up your thigh. Mingi smiles at your reaction and leans in closer to you, biting the lobe of your ear. "Besides, this is going to get rumoured around the university. People will be tempted to do a check on your account—people you know, people you might be close to." He goes on, the heat of his breath making you shiver. 
His broad palm grips your mound in a possessive way, the heat from your pretty pussy causing his cock to twitch in his trousers. You try to stifle a shameful moan, but the sound escapes you, and you unconsciously lean forward, pressing your breasts against him. Mingi wraps his other arm around your waist, pulling you closer to his body as he does so. Oh shit, your head is spinning from the smell of his perfume so close, and on top of everything else, you're ashamed to admit it, but your pussy is terribly wet, and you're pretty sure Professor Song can feel your wetness in the palm of his hand. 
"It may be illegal to screenshot, and your streamers will disappear, but what about the pictures and videos you've posted? Of course, everyone will be able to see your sexy little body all over the place. And don't you dare argue about it. You always look like a thirsty slut, wearing those tiny skirts and shoving your tits in everyone's face. You are a worthless little bitch." Professor Song hisses and presses the palm of his hand harder against your pussy, and you want to rub it against it so badly that it's almost pathetic.
Your tongue doesn't turn into an object; it's as if it were glued to the roof of your mouth. Mingi was right; you've always dressed rather provocatively, and it's never bothered you, but it seemed to bother him. 
"Either way, your name will still be in tatters, and my reputation will be perfect and clean, as it should be. I'm a respected professor with a model student. I'm not someone who watches a cam-girl stream every Friday night and watches how she stuffs a fake cock into her luscious little cunt." Wiping away a tear that has accidentally escaped your eye, Mingi's thumb runs down your cheek. Your vision is blurred by the tears, and the dark, lustful eyes of Professor Song are the only thing you can see clearly.
"Please tell me... What can I do to stop you from saying anything about me?" Your voice is barely above a whisper, and your words are a useless string of letters. Mingi's eyes flash angrily at your whimpering plea.
"Ah angel, you sound even better in real life when you're begging." Mingi moans as his middle finger slowly rubs the folds of your folds through your panties, which are more like a tiny piece of lace and do very little to cover the plumpness of your cunt. You whimper softly as you lean back against his shoulder. You've always been easy to arouse, and the wet sound you make when Mingi's fingers tease your pussy makes it clear that you're absolutely flowing for him right now. You can be sure that as soon as he pulls your panties off to the side, your viscous slime will be dripping freely out of your hole and onto the polished parquet floor. "I think you know very well what it is I want from you. I pay you good money all the time; don't you think I deserve the real thing, my doll?" You let out a loud whimper as his big hand pressed down hard on your shoulder. "On your knees, little one; don't keep your sir waiting."
As you kneel before your professor, facing the growing bulge in his trousers, your lower lip trembles. Professor Song is leaning against the desk, his hands on either side of his body, gazing up at you from under the lashes of his eyes. Your trembling hands are fumbling with his belt, and the sound of the metal echoes through the empty room.
"Oh, now you're embarrassin' yourself, darlin'? Where's that slutty bitch who was squirting all over yesterday because she let her pussy get stretched by a big dildo?" Mingi says it arrogantly, tilting his head to the side and tapping his fingers on his desk in disappointment. You flinch at his words like a slap in the face, but don't bother to reply as you pull down his trousers and underwear, the sight of his thick, wiry cock making your mouth dry as you try to swallow the lump in your throat. Like everything else about Professor Song, his cock is amazing—a drop of pre-ejaculate glistening on the flushed head, a thick vein swollen and throbbing just waiting for you to run your soft tongue over it, and its size—he's got a huge cock with a massive girth that you can barely wrap your palm around. Mingi wraps his hand around the cock, his thumb smearing the wetness over the head before he brings it to your lips and runs his whole length over it, leaving a wet sheen, and slaps your mouth a couple of times. 
"Open your mouth, dolly."
Mingi's other hand tangles in your hair, pulling hard on the long strands as you obediently open your mouth for him. His thick cock enters your mouth slowly, your jaw tensing as you try to get used to the size of it. You choke as the blunt head of his cock hits the back of your throat and the balls rest against the side of your chin. Mingi's thumb caressed your tear-stained cheek, and he cooed sweetly as he watched you gurgle around his cock, drool bubbling at the corners of your lips and dripping down your chin. His cock is hot and heavy in your mouth, the veins stretching across the sensitive, velvety skin. Professor Song doesn't give you enough time to get used to the size of his cock and pulls your head back until the only thing left in your mouth is his head.
"Don't you think you should lick me before I fuck you in the mouth, doll? You were very eloquent about wanting me to do it yesterday." You obediently run your tongue around the head of his cock, feeling more pre-cum pouring from his slit onto your tongue. It has a sweetly bitter taste, and you think that it is very suitable for Mingi. "Well done." Professor Song hisses at you before he pushes his cock all the way back into your mouth. You gasp as your hands fly to his strong, muscular thighs in an attempt to push him away as his hips thrust sharply forward, mindlessly using your mouth as his personal cock sleeve. The thick length of it presses down on your throat, and the bulge of his cock is perfectly visible against the back of your neck with each powerful thrust. 
"I have been waiting for such a long time to fuck that slutty mouth. Darling, I can see that you have nothing more to say to me, do you? That's how it's supposed to be; whores don't get to talk." Mingi lets out a deep moan and throws her head back as she pushes you down on his cock. Your saliva mixes with his pre-cum and sticky lip gloss, coating the length of thickly dick, making it shiny and smooth so it slides easily over your tongue and deeper into your throat. As you reflexively try to swallow, your jaw aches, your lips stretch around the thick circumference, and the walls of your throat contract. Never in your life have you sucked such a big, long cock, yet here you are, fulfilling the role of a pretty sex toy for your professor to enjoy. At least, unlike some lifeless silicone, no matter how expensive, your cunt and mouth are warm and moist. 
As he mercilessly fucks you in the mouth, Professor Song is not shy about his volume, emitting hoarse, prolonged moans and growls. Anyone could walk into the lecture hall at any moment and see your compromising position, but for some reason it turns you on. Maybe you really are a slut, although as long as you get paid enough, you don't mind being one, especially when Mingi is the one scolding you daily until you pass out. 
"Fuck, I'll cum." Mingi gasps as he wraps both of his large arms around your head, trying to hold it in place. You moan around his cock, the vibrations making Professor Song growl ducky as he presses harder into your slluty mouth and your grip on his hips tightens, your nails digging into the juicy flesh, leaving vicious marks, but Mingy doesn't give a shit; you could rip his skin off if he keeps fucking you like a personal doll. His dark, foxy eyes find yours, his beautiful, plump lips are slightly parted, and his balls are clenched, slapping you on the chin. Now you don't even know what to call him. If you thought Song Mingi looked like a wet dream before, then now he's sex itself. 
"Damn, damn, damn, doll!" He moans loudly, jerking his hips as his sperm pours into your mouth. As you forcefully swallow the viscous liquid that seems to have no end, your prolonged whimper is distorted. There's so much of his cum that some of it seeps through the corners of your mouth. He continues to slowly fuck your mouth. "Don't waste it, slut." He says it in a threatening voice, and you whimper at the venom in his tone. Mingi uses his long fingers to push his cum between your lips and roughly wipes the wet mess around your mouth. All of his rings are covered in a thin layer of cum and saliva, but you think it's hot.
You blink twice, catch your breath, and the next thing you know, your knees are no longer touching the cold floor, and your face, wet with tears and sperm, is pressed against Professor Song's spotless, cold desk; he has thrown you on the desk like a fucking doll. Fucking hell, that wasn't supposed to turn you on, but God, this man is just driving you crazy. You're too preoccupied with your thoughts to notice that Mingi has lifted your skirt, exposing your wet thong to his gaze. The cold air in the audience causes your hole to clench in reflex and the liquid to squirt out. 
You have to clench your fist to keep from squealing as the tight, expensive leather of his belt lands on your bottom with a loud crack. Oh my God, he has just hit you with his belt. Oh shit. Mingi doesn't let you recover; he holds your head against the table with one hand while he slaps your bottom again with the other. The sting of the contact between your soft flesh and the belt makes you squirm and writhe. 
"You just sucking my cock, and you're already so wet? You really are a slut. Aren't you?" He smirks as he leans down and sinks his teeth into the flushed skin of your arse before giving you another good spanking. You whimper as Mingi pulls your thong down your trembling legs, long strands of your own slime tugging at the insignificant piece of fabric as he does so. He pushes your buttocks apart so that your plump, flowing pussy is exposed to his hungry eyes.
Mingi picks up your leg, which is bent at the knee, and puts it down on the table. You whimper and grab hold of the edge of the table, embarrassed at how open you are to him at this moment. To be honest, it's the most disgusting feeling—you're embarrassed, but at the same time, you want him to do even more disgusting and humiliating things with you. Professor Song crouches down in front of you and spits into your cunt before licking a long, sloppy strip between your folds. Mingi uses his fingers to push your folds apart and then slides the tip of his tongue into your tight hole, tracing the edge of it. 
"Oh, God, sir..." As Mingi eagerly licks your cunt, avoiding your throbbing clit, you let out a long moan and arch your hips towards his tongue. He pulls back abruptly, his heavy hand coming down on your bruised arse to spank you hard before you can get the stimulation you need. 
"Did I tell you you could move, huh? You impatient bitch." You whimper at his reproachful tone. You scratch the wood with your fingernails as he spanks you again. "A good student answers the question, Dolly." Mingi hisses, mixing the scalding pain with the pleasure of the spanking, as his hand touches your bottom again.  "N-no, sir! You didn't tell me to move! I'm so sorry."
"That's right, doll, but I have a feeling the games are over for today." Professor Song says as he finally gets up to his full height and puts his arm around your neck.
Breathing heavily and hoarsely, Mingi feels the heat emanating from you as he guides his thick cock into your little hole. You let out a loud breath and wonder if his cock will feel like the toy he has given you. Probably not; however much you like it, nothing compares to the warmth and throbbing of a real cock, especially Song Mingi's cock.  You squirm as you feel the head of his cock pass slowly between your muscles, a soft howl escaping from your lips. The dildo you used yesterday is nothing compared to Mingi's dick; it feels bigger and thicker, the swollen veins of his cock stretching deliciously along your silky, trembling walls. The urge to hold him inside you is almost irresistible, and you can't help but clench around him. Fuck, and here you thought Mingi couldn't be more slutty and godlike, and you were wondering if his cock had been given special attention during his creation? You let out a loud moan, your tongue flicking out of your mouth, and right now you definitely fit the definition of 'well fucked'. Drops of sweat roll down Mingi's neck, disappearing beneath the fabric of his unbuttoned shirt, exposing his hot golden skin and sculpted breasts. Heavy breathing replaces what he's saying, and you feel partly grateful for that. When he finally enters you at the base, the head of his cock touching your cervix and his forehead pressing against your shoulder, you both moan loudly.
"S-Sir, y-you're too big."
Ignoring your whimpering, Mingi grabs you by the hips and immediately sets a brutal but rhythmic pace with you. The objects on his desk shake and fall, shattering on the parquet floor as he fucks you, pressing your body against the desk with the full weight of his body. The fabric rubbing against your hardened nipples sends a pleasant tingle down your spine and makes you shiver from the added stimulation. Your moans grow louder and louder, your cheeks burning, and you can hear his heavy balls slapping against your clit as he thrusts your tight pussy back and forth along the length of his throbbing cock. The humiliation of pouring cream around Professor Song's cock brings tears to your eyes, but at the same time, you come to an almost orgasmic pleasure as he slaps your arse again. The sting stings like a bitch, but it feels fucking unbelievably good.
"That's it, goddamn it. I've been thinking about fucking that tight little cunt for ages. You really are the perfect doll to fuck."
It all makes you dizzy, and you moan "sir" and "daddy" as your pussy sucks him up greedily. You're getting so excited; you don't want to admit it, but you can't help yourself. You can't get enough of Mingi's cock. It feels so good inside you. 
"That's my good little girl. You're definitely worth what I've paid for you." Mingi growls in your ear as he pushes harder and harder into your used cunt. He presses down hard on your neck, pinning you to the table, not letting you move, and fucking you relentlessly, his hips moving hard and fast as he takes complete control of your body. Your orgasm starts to form, an intoxicating sensation of rapture coursing through your veins like lava. 
"Sir, please! Harder!" You need to cum so badly that you beg him to go harder.
Mingi's eyes were narrow—dark and cruel—and his muscles were quivering and tense from your pathetic begging. He's a professor, and professors always want the best for their students, especially the ones they like best.
"Look at you, begging for my cock like a good little bitch," he says. He accentuates the last word with a strong thrust and plunges so deep into your cunt that you can almost feel the head of his cock entering your cervix. A mixture of incoherent words and intermittent moans escape your lips. Your head falls forward as Professor Song releases your neck to grab your thighs again, leaving more bruises on them. 
"Will you cum for me, bitch?" He leans down to your ear and nibbles on your lobe, the slapping of your skin and squishing of your pussy echoing through the empty hall.
"Hell yeah! I'm going to cum for you! I'm going to cum for you, Daddy; I'm going to cum on your cock!" You scream, the knot in your stomach gets tighter and tighter, and Professor Song fucks your flowing cunt faster and harder.
"Then cum, bunny." He growls, his hips losing their rhythm and jerking, his cock throbbing as thick, hot jets of cum coat the walls of your cunt. He moans your name quietly while your voice is barely audible—a weak, panting whisper, 'Mingi'. Both of your bodies are slowly at rest, revelling in the haze of your orgasms. Soft cries and whimpers escape from your lips, and you shudder as you feel your mixed juices pour out of you, staining the floor that was once so clean. You collapse helplessly on the table, your body going limp, a puddle of saliva pooling under your cheek, and your breathing heavy as you try to clear your mind.
Mingi moans. He bites his plump lip as he comes out of you. You whimper, squirming awkwardly as more cum pours from your pussy. You turn back to look at Professor Song, and your eyes almost pop out of your head as you see him pressing your panties to his nose and moaning loudly and satisfied. He smirks at you vulgarly, licks his lips, and wipes his cock with your underwear before tucking his dick into his trousers, the zip jangling loudly. He dismissively tosses your thong aside and presses against you again, pinning you between the desk and his big muscular body, his hot breath touching your earlobe, before whispering in his deep porn voice.
"Don't think that this is just a one-time thing, doll. I have paid for you, and now you belong to me. Do you understand what I mean?"
"Yes, Professor Song. I understand you perfectly."
"That's good. You're a real teacher's pet. On Monday evening, I will be expecting you for an extra lesson. Don't you dare disappoint me, doll." He slaps your butt once more before he pulls himself away completely and walks out of the classroom. 
Oh, this is really fucked up. 
1K notes · View notes
chaepink · 9 months
Note
I have a small question! Can we get some time whenever you are up for it, Maybe some more of the Yan!sub boys? c:
pathetic sub!yandere boys ♡ pt. 2
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pathetic yet adorable yandere boys that are so obsessed with you that they'll do anything you ask them to do.
wc: 1k+ words | masterlist | part one
dom!reader, previous stalking, unhealthy relationship, pet play, bondage, use of blindfold, mention of strap/cock, mention of choking, mention of marking
note: part two cause part one did so well!
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Yandere subs that are so obsessed with you that they'll do anything you ask, sexual or not. Ask them for some homework answers? They'll steal the answer sheet for the week's homework for you from the teacher's desk undetected. You've been craving certain snacks and tell them that? Weird enough, you find a pile of those snacks on your bed the next day with a note that has a heart on it that lets you know exactly who it's from.
But in bed? That's a whole different story. Believe me when I say that they want to feel weak and small underneath you in bed. Choke them, spank them, edge or overstimulate them, and they'll babble out 'thank you's to whatever pleasure you're giving them. Such a good boy that just wants to be obedient for you.
Tell them to sit? They'll sit mere seconds later, looking up at you for your next command. Tell them to make you feel good? They'll make you cum as if their life depends on it. You're gonna have to yank their hair so that they don't overstimulate you, making them whimper at the pain as they look up at you with sad puppy eyes, asking you what they did wrong.
They're so desperate to please you that they'll hack into your phone to search your search/porn history for stuff that you want to do to them but haven't asked yet. It's not like you haven't caught them doing so either.
You like pet play? You find them in your room with nothing but a collar around their neck, a leash that's connected to said collar on the floor in front of you as if its beckoning you to grab it, a pair of cat/bunny/dog ears on their head that looks so real that its as if they're actually connected to his head, and- oh? whats that buzzing? Turns out that they put in a tail vibrator in themself too! what a surprise! How about you call them a good boy and fuck him until he can't think anymore as a reward? Watch as he mewls like a slut when you take out the vibrator before pushing it back in him.
What about bondage? Well you'll find them tied up oh so prettily on your bed with some red rope that compliments their skin so well. They'll already be prepped, of course, not wanting to waste time on it so that you'll fuck them quicker. Maybe they'll even have a blindfold on which will heighten his other senses. So how about you touch him all over so that he begs for you to just fuck him already. Don't listen to him though, just continue teasing him until he's soaked the blindfold with his tears and as his dick leaks out pre-cum, desperately humping the air to seek any friction. what a slut!
Turn them into such a mess that all they can think about is the way your strap/dick is hitting all the right spots in him as they lay there taking it all so well. Make him scream out in pleasure, the sounds filling the room which would surely end with an angry complaint from your neighbors complaining about the noises the following day. But he doesn't 't care, why would they when you're fucking him so well?
They're so horny that they're willing to tease you in public just so you would punish them. With some friends and he tagged along? He'll innocently grab your hand to place it on the bulge in his pants, making you widen your eyes and glare at him before he reaches forward to grab something. This makes his shirt ride up which just barely shows the pair of lace panties he's wearing underneath that are peeking out from his pants. How about you drag him to the bathroom and finger him until he cums, a hand on his mouth to silence his loud moans, hm?
About to leave the house to go somewhere with a friend? He'll say goodbye to you wearing the sluttiest outfit right when you're about to exit the door, his ass practically out and dick bulging against the fabric. You can't resist how good they look so you quickly text your friend that you have to cancel and to meet up another time before shaking off your belongings and rushing towards him with hunger in your eyes. Sure you feel bad for your friend but thats the last thing on your mind, the outfit on your yandere being the only thing that you're thinking about at the moment. The way you're looking at him makes them feel so small as if they're the prey and you're the predator but oh do they love it so much.
You know their antics are just to rile you up but you can't ignore them, not when you want to make them scream your name so bad and make them cry from pleasure. It's not your fault, really.
It's not like they're complaining either. They'll gladly get on all fours and present their lubed up ass to you the moment you tell them to. They'll turn their head back to look at you with eyes that absolutely begs you to ruin them. They're just a mere toy for you to use for your own pleasure after all.
Do whatever to them, they'll take it all like a good boy. Leave marks on him so that he can be reminded of the previous night, filthy thoughts flooding his head as he gets hard again. He'll stare at them in the mirror, heading tilting up to look at the small bruise around his neck from your choking. The red mark on his waist is obvious, reminding him of just how hard you gripped it to fuck him even deeper and faster.
Everything you do just makes them even more obsessed with you but you don't mind. After all, you're just as obsessed with them as they are with you.
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ty for reading to the end! ❤ - chaepink
╰┈➤ masterlist | rules
7K notes · View notes
gyupinkys · 4 months
Text
LIKE CRAZY
PARK SEONGHWA X READER
WC: 7.4K
WARNINGS: MURDER, YANDERE, VIOLENCE, DOMESTIC ABUSE, GORE, KIDNAPPING, DRUGGING, SMUT, power imbalance, questionable morals, unprotected sex, rough sex, heavy talks of breeding, creampie, oral, guided masturbation, possessiveness, very inaccurate medical terms idk what i'm talking about, lots of dirty talk, seonghwa is actually crazy...
Synopsis: Park Seonghwa, 25, charged with 10 Counts of second degree murder, acquitted of all charges by reason of insanity. You find his story hard to believe, seeing through his lies. As a new psychiatrist you're not sure you're ready for the anomaly you're tasked to treat
A/N: Thank you guys so much for all the support!!! I love this fic <3
You love your job, you really do but moments like this make you question why you’re here. As you stand in the bathroom of your office cleaning the mashed potatoes your patient threw at you in a manic rage off your face, you question why you do this. As a psychiatrist you pride yourself in your patience, but you can't help but stomp your foot in a mini tantrum. You spent so long doing your makeup this morning and it’s all going to waste. You throw the final wipe in the trash and stare at your reflection. The bags under your eyes are much more prominent than a few days ago. You’ve been up all night trying to prepare yourself for your new patient coming today. Park Seonghwa, 25, acquitted of all charges by reason of insanity. He claims a “demon” took over his body, subsequently leading him to murdering 15 people across a 1 month killing spree. You don’t buy it. Something about this guy is off and the state made it your job to find out why. Your phone ringing snaps you out of your thoughts.
“Doctor L/N, the patient has arrived, we are transporting him to his room.”
“I’ll be right there.” 
You take a deep breath and walk across the hospital to his room. You expect to hear shuffling and yelling but the room is eerily quiet. The guards in front of the door step aside and let you into the room, keeping a close eye on Seonghwa. 
“Hello Mr.Park, I’m Dr. Y/N L/N, and I will be treating you for your stay here.” you smile at him., surprised by his appearance. 
“Hello, Y/N.” he says, staring up at you from his place on his bed.
His curly black hair and plump lips suit him so well. 
“I hope you adjust well, we’ve been anticipating your arrival. Breakfast begins at 8, so you are expected to be up and ready before then. Lunch is at 2 and dinner is at 7. Your therapy time with me is at 4 Mondays, Wednesday’s, and Fridays. Sounds good?”
“Sounds great” he says with a smile, showcasing his pearly white teeth. 
“I look forward to working with you. My job is to take care of you and I promise to do that.” you smile.
You take a second to look at him, watching the dead look in his eyes. His smile says one thing but his eyes say another. With one last smile you leave the room, almost certain he’ll be causing problems before the night is over. 
_________________________
You come in the next morning and check in with the nurses. Surprisingly there were no issues from Seonghwa, he even took his medication with no complaints. Maybe you had the wrong idea about him. You meet with several of your other patients, thankfully avoiding potatoes in your face again. It's 3pm when you take a break, looking outside your office window. You see him sitting at the edge of the courtyard, eyes fixed up at the sky. Four guards surround him out of precaution, but he seems completely unphased, eyes staring at the clear blue sky.  For someone capable of such evil things he’s beautiful. His curly hair has grown quite long during his time in prison awaiting his trial. His eyes are wide and bright holding so many secrets.  As if he can feel your eyes on him he looks up, directly into your office window somehow making eye contact with you. Your eyes widen and you quickly look away, pretending you weren't staring at him. It’s not uncommon for new patients to stick to themselves, often untrusting of the new environment. You can only hope Seonghwa will begin to trust you so you can treat him, if not you’re not sure what his future might hold.   
_________________________
He is brought to your office at 4 on the dot, accompanied by the four guards assigned to him. He looks rather scared, the new environment keeping him on his toes. You welcome  him with a wide smile that he doesn't return, instead staring straight at your shoes. 
“Hello, Seonghwa.” 
“Hi.” he responds quietly, reminding you of a scared child. You find it in your heart to feel sorry for him. 
“How are you adjusting?”
He shrugs in response, eyes still on the floor. 
“Can you look at me?”
He shakes his head no. 
“Ok, that's fine. I know it’s scary here, I’d also hate to be constantly monitored, but we just want to make sure you’re safe.”
He keeps quiet so you continue. 
“Tell me, do you like the food here?” 
No response. 
“I’ve only tried some of the patient food, well besides when it gets thrown at me. Last week Sandy with the weird haircut threw her potatoes right in my face, I looked like Ms.Doubtfire in that one scene.” you say with a laugh, gauging his reaction. He smirks but remains silent, you decide it might be best if you keep talking in hopes of making him comfortable. 
“I’ve only been working here for about 5 months. I can’t say I’m settled completely. Some patients don’t seem to like me very much, hence the mashed potatoes. But I don’t let that discourage me, I mean if I was in their shoes I wouldn’t want some random lady talking my ear off. Well, I guess that’s what I’m doing now, I’ll shut up.”
He looks up at you with a wide smile, showcasing his perfect teeth. “Don’t stop," he says gently.
“I don’t think you know what you’re getting yourself into here, I can talk for hours.” you say with a light laugh. 
His eyes widen a bit, he looks at you as if he’s psychoanalyzing you, the roles seemingly reversed. You squirm under his intense stare, deciding to just start talking. 
“How about this? If I tell you one thing about me, you tell me one thing about you?”
“Deal.” he says much quicker than you anticipate making you laugh. You hear his breath hitch, concerned you did something wrong. 
“Are you ok?” 
“I’m fine. Start talking.” 
“Ok, Ok. Hmmmm, Oh how about this, I haven’t finished paying off my student debt.”
“I could pay it off,” he says seriously. 
“I appreciate the offer, but I’m sure that violates many rules.”
“I’m not one to worry about rules.” he says with a smile, making your own fall. He quickly reacts, trying to soothe the situation. “That was a joke, I’m joking.” 
“Noted.” you say hesitantly. “Your turn.” 
“I miss my cat.” he says, sadly.
“You have a cat?” you ask in surprise. “I love cats, I have two.”
“Can I see?” he asks, scooching to the front of his seat, making the guards jump hold him back. 
“You guys can relax.” you say and they let go of him.
You grab your phone from your desk, missing the way his eyes drop to your ass. 
“They're named Brad and Chad. And yes I know those are weird names for cats.” you show him the pictures of your cats, seeing his body visibly relax. 
“What’s your cat's name?”  
“Matz.”
“Boy or girl?”
“Girl. I think my friend Hongjoong has her but I’m not sure.” 
“If you give me his last name I can try to find out for you.” you say with a smile.
He leans forward again in excitement. “You’d do that for me?”
“Of course, I know It’ll give you peace of mind.”
“Kim, his last name is Kim.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Kim Hongjoong has Matz and says you raised a very disrespectful cat.” you say and slide into the chair across from him in the cafeteria. 
He looks a bit shocked at your presence but he gives you a wide smile when he registers what you said. 
“She was born like that, I had no part in her sassiness.” he laughs. 
“Did he say anything else?”
“He said,  “Don't forget to look at the sky.” and stopped responding after that so do with it as you will.”
“I really appreciate it.” he says and grabs your hand, making the security guards restrain him. 
“It’s ok, let him go.” you sigh, understanding the guard’s worry, but also feeling sympathetic for Seonghwa. 
“I’ll see you around, Seonghwa.”
“Call me Hwa.” he smiles. 
_________________________
Seonghwa has made great progress, now only being followed around by two guards as opposed to four. He’s been much more responsive with you and willing to let you into his mind, but he refuses to talk about the murders. Whenever you attempt to touch on the subject he locks up and asks to leave. You think he needs more time to accept and confront his past. You know prying too much will only erase his progress. You’ve learned so much about him and he’s learned so much about you. He’s so attentive to every word you speak, constantly bringing up small details you forgot you said. You’d be lying if you said it wasn't sweet. Today you decided to try group therapy with him, maybe if he sees someone else sharing he’d be inclined to share as well. You’re also hoping he’s able to make a friend here, since he expressed to you how lonely he’s been feeling. You can see the shock on his face when he walks into your office and see’s San sitting on the couch. He freezes in the threshold of your office, his face morphing into something you’ve never seen before. 
“Who is this?” he asks with venom.
“Hwa, this is San, he’ll be joining us today.”
“Why?”
“I think it’ll be a good change of pace. Now come on in and sit down.”
He slowly walks in, eyes never leaving San. 
“So, I was thinking of doing a joint session today. I think you two can be great friends and what better place to facilitate this friendship than here?”
“I’d rather be your friend, or more than friends if you’re interested.” San says with a smirk.
“San, don’t start.”
“If you show me your tits I’ll stop.”
“I will write you up.” you deadpan. 
He holds his hands up in defeat as you look over to Seonghwa. He’s sitting in his chair with a hard face and tense body. You want him to feel comfortable, understanding why he’s nervous. 
“Hwa, San also loves cats. Why don’t you tell him about Matz?”
“I have a cat named Matz” he whispers, eyes never leaving you.
“I used to have a cat but it died. I was thinking of getting a new one.” San says with a wide smile.
“What kind of cat is your favorite?” Seonghwa asks, seemingly interested. 
“I like cats that are nice and wet, even better if they're tight.” he says with a wide smile, showing off his dimples. “Can I take a look at your cat, Doctor?” 
Before you can respond San’s on the floor, face being beaten in by Seonghwa. 
“HOW ABOUT YOU TREAT HER WITH SOME FUCKING RESPECT.” he yells as his fist fly into San’s jaw. As the guards peel him off San and sedate him he’s staring straight at you, tears in his eyes. 
“I can’t sit here and let him talk to you like that.” he slurs as the sedative takes over his body. 
“Thank you, Hwa.” is the last thing he hears before everything fades to black.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“You did a real number on San.” you say with an awkward laugh at your next session,  trying to make him comfortable. He’s back with four guards after he broke San’s jaw two weeks ago.  He was placed in a higher security ward inorder to avoid more altercations.
“He deserved it.” he whispers with an eye roll.
“Maybe, but we don’t have to solve our problems with violence.”
“I do.”
“Well, If I upset you would you beat the shit out of me?” you ask, trying to prove your point but hoping he will say no.
He leans forward and looks directly into your eyes. “Y/N I will never hurt you. I swear on my life.” 
“That's good to hear” you say with a laugh. 
“Ok, let's begin. I want you to write three things you like here and three things you dislike. I want you to start seeing the good in the bad.”
“Not much to love in this shit hole.” he grumbles.
“Hey, At least the chicken tenders they serve on wednesdays are good.” you joke.
You hand him a piece of paper and a pen, your fingers brushing making you clear your throat. 
“Ok, go ahead.”
“You do it too.” he says with a smirk.
“How about I just write things I do like? ”
“Deal”
You write three things you like:
Chicken tenders 
The sunlight
Seonghwa
“Ok, you share first.” 
He clears his throat. 
“I like my doctor, I like the girl I meet on Monday’s, Wednesday, and Fridays, and I like Y/N.”
Your eyes widen and you can’t help but smile, feeling your cheeks tingle. “Well that's definitely something.” you say with a laugh watching his eyes light up. 
You read out your list and watch his smile widen when he hears his name. 
“Don’t let it go to your head.” you say with an eye roll.
“Oh baby, it already did.”
Your heart stops at the pet name, willing yourself to remain professional. He’s a goddamn serial killer you internally yell. 
“Ok, now read the things you don’t like.”
“I don’t like Tuesdays and Thursdays, I don’t like San, and I don’t like your boyfriend.”
You choke on the sip of water you were taking. 
“How do you know I have a boyfriend?”
“Your reaction just told me.” he says and you can see him becoming upset. 
“I don’t have a boyfriend, and frankly it’s none of your business.” you say, slightly annoyed. 
He gives you a look you’re never seen before. You hate to think it but he genuinely looks insane. You’re suddenly thankful for the guards in the room. 
“I think that’s enough for today.” you say. the guards picking him up and dragging him out of the room, his eyes never leaving yours.
You weren’t lying, you don’t have a boyfriend. Well, that’s because he doesn’t want you. All  Chris wants from you is sex, claiming he’s “too young for a relationship”
You wish you were strong enough to stick up for yourself but that’s exactly how he likes you, weak. 
As you sit at your desk you're puzzled by Seonghwa’s reaction. Sure, you've had patients crush on you in the past but they've never reacted like that when they found out about your partner. He looked almost… murderous? You write this in his file, concerned for both your safety and his. Maybe someone else should get assigned to him? No, that’ll only aggravate him more. You sigh, at a loss about this situation. 
_________________________
When you enter your office you see an envelope on the floor, presumably slid under your door. You pick it up and see it’s addressed to you.
You open it and pull out a letter.
“My dear Y/N, 
I don’t know what I was thinking yesterday. I guess I got jealous, knowing I can’t have you in the ways he has you. I can tell you guys aren’t in love. You deserve to be loved, in every sense of the word. I wish we met in different circumstances, I’d do anything to have you, to hold you, to love you. I’m sorry if I scared you. You’ve been nothing but perfect for me and I’ve done nothing but give you headaches. I’ll be better for you, I promise.
-Hwa”
Your heart softens. This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for you. You choose to ignore the parts where he confesses his love for you. That just complicates things. You decide to pay him a visit in his room. 
You walk to the other side of the hospital, rehearsing what you're going to say to him. You stop in your tracks outside his door, hearing moans and groans coming from the other side. Is he ok?  You press your ear to his door, only hearing more moans and whimpers. As you’re about to open it you hear him moan out your name. Oh. It doesn't take a genius to guess what he’s doing. It would be a lie if you said you weren't imagining his face right now. He’s already so pretty, he must look even better right before he comes. You bite the bullet and knock on his door.
“Hwa, can I come in?”
You hear shuffling and a meek “Come in.”
You open the door and pause. You expected him to stop but he’s sitting up on his bed with his back against the wall, cock in his hand. Your eyes stray from his face to his dick, hard and long. 
“Am I interrupting something?”
“No.”
“I’ll come back later.” 
“No.” he yells, making you stop in your tracks.
“Turn around.”
As if you were in a trance you turn around, eyes trained on his large hands wrapped around himself. 
“Can you come help me? It hurts so bad.” he whispers. “You’re my doctor aren’t you?” he smirks.
“No, this is wrong.”
“Then why are you still here? Why are your eyes on my cock rather than my face?”
“I-”
“Y/N, all I can think of when I close my eyes is you.” he says as he strokes his cock, looking into your eyes. “Your pretty eyes, your lips, your perfect fucking smile. You make it so hard to focus. I gotta come back here after every session to stroke my cock to you, I can’t help myself.”
You’re frozen in place, unsure if you’re even breathing. “Come wrap your hand around my cock, baby. Please?”
Your legs move before you can think this through, hesitantly wrapping your hand around him. He’s so big in your hands, you can only imagine how perfect he’d feel inside you. 
“I shouldn't be doing this.” you whisper to him. 
He wraps his hand around yours and guides you to begin stroking him, moaning at the sensation. “You aren’t doing anything wrong, just helping your patient.”
His breathing picks up as precum leaks from his tip onto your hand. “Baby, can I tell y-you something?”
“Yea.”
“I really wish it was your pretty little pussy wrapped around me right now.” he groans. “I’d treat you better than you could imagine, I’d have you addicted to this dick.”
“Hwa” 
“Shh, keep going. You're making me feel so good, beautiful.” he breathes out, throbbing in your hand.
“Do you do this to your other patients? Or am I special.”
“You’re special, Hwa. You know that.”
“Do you do this for that ungrateful bastard you call a boyfriend?”
You freeze, but he continues. 
“I know you don’t. If he treated you how you deserved you wouldn’t be here with me. I’d make you a queen Y/N, you don’t even have to love me back.”
You look at him in the eye, he looks fucking insane but you can’t find it in you to care. You crash your lips into his, feeling him suck in a deep breath before returning the same ferocity. The kiss is deep and nasty, nothing but tongue and teeth. You grip him harder and begin pumping him faster, desperate to see his face when you come. 
“I want you to come for me ok? I wanna see how pretty you look when you feel good.”
“Yes, yes, ok. I’m gonna come for you.”
You hear him let out one last whimper before he comes, his seed dripping down your hand. When he’s done you bring your hand up to his mouth, watching him lick his cum off your fingers. You feel yourself clench around nothing, but you know you’d have to handle your little issue at a later time. 
“So good for me, Hwa.” you smile, giving him one last peck before getting up. 
He’s laying on the bed, looking completely blissed out, a wide smile on his face. 
“I got the letter by the way. I guess flattery has gotten you pretty far.”
_________________________
You arrive home later than expected, getting caught up in some paperwork and losing track of time. When you arrive at your apartment you see none other than Chris waiting outside. 
“Where have you been?” he immediately spits, slurring his words, making you roll your eyes. 
“Why are you here?” you sigh, unlocking your door.
“What? I can’t come see you now?” he says, going to hug you, but you push him away, smelling the alcohol on his breath. 
“Thought you’d be more interested in seeing Irene.”
“Y/N, don’t be like that. You and I aren’t together.” he says, getting aggravated.
“Thank God.” you say under your breath, unsure where this confidence came from.
“Come again?”
“Nothing.”
“No. Fucking say it.” he says, getting in your face.
“Chris, just leave.”
“Youre fucking impossible, Y/N. I don’t know what you fucking want from me. You get mad when I fuck other bitches but you talk to me like this? You don’t deserve me.”
You can’t help but laugh, turning to walk into your bathroom, which makes him even more upset. 
“Whats so fucking funny?” he yells, grabbing your wrist a little too tight. 
“Don’t fucking touch me.” you spit, trying to pull your hand away, but unable to due to his tight grip. 
“You’re hurting me.” you cry as he tightens his grip and pulls you towards him. 
“Imagine how much you hurt me when you act like this? You’re a fucking bitch Y/N. Why are you acting like this? Are you fucking someone else is that it?” he’s getting angrier by the second, beginning to scare you.
“GET OFF OF ME.”
“ADMIT IT. YOU'RE WHORING YOURSELF OUT AREN’T YOU? “
You yank your hand from his grip, only to be greeted with a sharp slap across your face.
You look at him with wide eyes, shocked at his actions. He seems equally as shocked as he stares at his hand then you. 
“Sweetheart, I’m-”
“Get out before I call the cops.”
He rushes out, spewing bullshit apologies in his drunken state, but you’re having none of it. As soon as he leaves you begin to cry, the reality of what happened hitting you. You look down at your wrist, seeing his hand imprinted on your skin. You cry more, wondering how you got to this point.
_________________________
You tried your best to cover the small mark on your face, but the bruise on your hand was a no go. You just hoped the sleeves of your lab coat would cover the mark. You see multiple patients today, trying to keep up your usual happy persona but most likely failing. San is the only one who asked if you were ok, saying he “knows ways to make
You feel better.” Maybe Seonghwa needs to beat him up one more time so he can learn his lesson. Speaking og Seonghwa, you are nervous to face him after your encounter yesterday. You violated so many rules, if he were to snitch on you not only would you lose your job, but your license. You take a deep breath as the guards bring him into your office, two instead of four now due to good behavior.
He takes a seat but you’re not sure what to say. He frowns at the unusual silence, immediately asking what's wrong. 
“I’m fine, Hwa. Just having a shitty day.” you say while subconsciously rubbing your wrist, bringing attention to it. He shoots forward in his seat and grabs your arm, pulling back your sleeve and looking at your wrist. The guards immediately grab him, but you signal at them to stand down. 
“Did he do that?” Seonghwa asked, venom dripping from his voice. 
“He was drunk.” 
“That's not an excuse.”
“I know.” you sigh.
“That bastard doesn't deserve you. I hope he fucking dies.” Seonghwa spits. 
“Hwa, don’t say that.”
“I want to leave.”
You nod your head and the guards lead him back to his room. You decide to head home, hoping a night out with your friends will clear your mind.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Seonghwa’s tells himself he’s doing this for you. Everything he does is for you. No one can lay a hand on his sweet girl and think they won't experience any consequences. He’ll be damned if this fucker lives another day. He watches Chris dance and kiss other women like nothings wrong, like he didn’t put his hands on you. Seonghwa can feel the rage flowing through his body, this is the feeling he gets right before he kills. He can’t wait to see the light leave Chris’ eyes tonight. He’s eternally grateful for Hongjoong finding this fucker for him, he knows he’ll avenge you tonight. 
He waits for him near his car, watching him fumble with his keys. 
“Excuse me.” 
Chris turns around and sees Seonghwa standing next to the car parked behind his own. 
“Yes?”
“I know this sounds weird, but I’m trying to dump my couch, but I can’t get it out of my apartment by myself. Can you help me?”
“Yea sure.” 
Seonghwa couldn't help but smile, knowing what was about to happen. As soon as the pair enter Hongjoong’s old apartment, Seonghwa wastes no time and stabs Chris in the chest, watching him crumble to the floor. 
“You think you can touch my dear, Y/N and get away with it? No one is going to hurt my girl.” he spits, rage consuming him. 
Chris doesn’t get a chance to respond as Seonghwa plunges the knife into his chest, repeatedly, aiming for his heart. 
“This is how my heart felt when I saw those bruises on her.” he spits, mutilating Chris’s body. 
When his body is nothing more than a pile of flesh and blood, Seonghwa stands, changing out of his soiled clothes and exiting the apartment, leaving Chris’s body to rot. 
He pushes through the crowds of the rowdy club, searching for you. He spots you dancing with your friends, looking carefree and happy, exactly as you should be. He smiles at the sight, falling more in love with you as the seconds pass. He wants to experience everything with you, he wants to marry you, have kids with you, die with you, and he will. He’ll make you his, he’ll fill you up with his seed and watch your body grow. He’ll keep you where no one can find you, make sure you’re his forever. 
He watches you search for one of your other friends from your spot at the bar, hoping you’d make eye contact with him. When your eyes meet his heart stops. He watches your eyes widen, and confusion grow on your face. You rub your eyes to make sure you’re seeing correctly and when you open them again he’s gone. 
He walks back to the asylum elated, happy he served you justice. He passes by the security who knows better to question him and the nurses who keep their heads down and mouths shut. There's nothing money can’t buy, and the hospital staff’s silence is definitely not one of them. He changes back into his patient attire and gets into bed as if nothing happened. 
_________________________
 You’re 100% losing your mind. Either that or Seonghwa was in the same club as you last night which is impossible. You've run through every scenario you could think of and you’ve concluded whatever you feel for him is becoming too strong. You’re considering transferring him to another doctor, the guilt you have from what happened two days ago is sitting on you. That was completely unprofessional and foolish, your risked so much because you’re too fucking horny. Not only that but you took advantage of him, you're in a position of power, you should've said no. You know you wouldn't be able to treat and diagnose him properly. But you also know he’d throw a fit if he gets assigned to a new doctor. This is all too much for you to handle.
Your thoughts are interrupted by someone barging into your office. You look up and see Seonghwa, eyes widening. 
“Hwa? Why are you here?”
“I needed to see you.”
“Where are the guards?”
“Don’t worry about that.” he says and locks your office door, worrying you a bit.
“Seonghwa, you’ll get in trouble if they find out you’re here.”
“They won’t find out if you don’t tell.” he says with a smile, walking to your desk. 
“Why did you need to see me?”
“I’m sorry for how I acted yesterday. It wasn’t my place to react like that, and I know you were probably already stressed, I shouldn’t have added to that.”
“It's ok, don’t worry.”
“No, it’s not Ok. I keep saying I'll treat you right but I haven't. Let me make it up to you.”
You smile at how much he cares when it should be the other way around. 
“And how are you going to make it up?” you say with a light laugh.
“Let me eat you out.”
Your eyes widen. 
“Hwa. What happened was a one time thing. We can’t keep doing this.”
“Why?
“You know why.”
“I won’t tell anyone. No one needs to know, Baby. I love you, why would I jeopardize you?” he says, getting on his knees next to your desk chair.
“What if someone sees?”
“I’ll take care of them. With the way I’m about to have you, no one but me gets to see you.”
Your breath quickens. No way you're actually contemplating this. You watch as he turns your chair towards him and places his hands on your thighs.
“What do you say, Sweet girl?”
You nod hesitantly. He smiles up at you spreading your legs and running his hands up your skirt. He flips it up and looks at your pink panties, sucking in a deep breath. 
“Just like I imagined.”
He puts his legs on your shoulder and pulls your hips to his face, running his nose along your inner thigh. He’s breathing heavily, his grip on you tightening. He licks a long stipe up your slit over your panties, teasing you. Your hands fly to his soft curls, pulling him closer. 
“Please don’t tease”  you whisper.
He begins to kiss your cunt, practically making out with it. He’s so sloppy with it, soaking your already soaked panties more. He pulls off your panties with his teeth, shoving them in his pocket before pulling you flush to his lips. He goes straight for your clit, sucking harshly. He's moaning into your cunt, lapping at your pussy like it's the last he’lll ever eat.
“So good, Baby. You taste so fucking goof. The best I’ve ever had.”
He runs two fingers through you, wetting them before easing them inside. 
“Fucking hell, you’re gonna be the death of me.”
You can only moan in response, trying to control your volume.
“Tell me how it feels.”
“It’s so good, Hwa. Feels so good.”
“Is it better than that fucker Chris?”
“Yes, so much better.” you moan out, not having enough brain power to question how he knows chris. All you can focus on is his soft tongue running through you and his fingers hitting all the spots you need. 
Your back arches as you feel your orgasm coming. “Give it to me baby. I deserve it,I’ve been so good to you.” he speaks into your cunt, his fingers never stopping. 
You look down into his wide eyes and see so much emotion in them. He’s so fucking pretty, just the thought that this is the man eating you out makes you let go. Grabbing his hair harshly and somehow pulling him closer as you soak his face. He keeps sucking and licking your clit, slowing the pace of his fingers. When it gets too much you yank his head back, out of breath. 
“Fuck, Hwa. That definitely made it up to me.” you laugh, blissed out.
“I’m glad.” he laughs, licking his fingers clean before standing up and kissing you.
“I can make you feel even better.” he smiles, testing his luck. 
“Nice try. Can I have my panties back?”
“No can do.” he smiles, kissing you one more time before backing up, helping you put your clothes back in place. 
“I’ll see you four, Love.” he says with a wide smile.
“Actually, I need to cancel our session, something came up.” you say solemnly watching his smile drop. All the guilt from before it you once again. You can’t keep doing this. He’s you patient for fucks sake, you can’t fuck him. This is wrong on so many levels.  
“So when am I going to see you instead?”
“I’ll let you know.” you say with a frown.
“Oh, Ok. Have a nice night, Y/N.”
“You too, Hwa.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Seonghwa can feel something's off. He thought after he ate you out you’d realize you feel the same way about him. But he could tell it had the opposite effect. He tries to sleep but all that's on his mind is you. He looks at the clock on the wall, it's well past 4am, you should definitely be gone. He gets up and opens his door, seeing the guard on night duty fast asleep. He walks to your office and uses the master key he stole from the janitor to unlock the door. He walks over to your desk and scans the papers littering it. He sees a printed out email from your supervisor, listing reports made about you from other patients. Other patients claim you show him favoritism? He knows San was behind this. They claim patient reports you write for him are much more detailed and that's somehow proof of favoritism? You eating lunch with him is somehow inappropriate? He laughs at this, they really have no idea how inappropriate your relationship has gotten. He continues reading, Your supervisor claims he’s showing no improvement and has requested a new doctor for him. He can feel the anger coursing through his veins but he wills himself. He’ll be damned if they try to take you away from him. His months of planning will not go to waste. He’ll live out all his dreams with you, there's no way he won’t. 
He walks out of your office, filled with rage. He can’t believe this. He can only imagine how crushed you are. He knows you love him, even if you don’t know it. He knows you’re probably at home distraught. He owes it to you to make sure you two remain together forever.
He goes back to his room, but he still can’t sleep. He stares at the ceiling, imagining your pretty face in an attempt to calm his spirit. He’s rudely interrupted by his door opening. He looks at the clock and sees it's somehow 8am. Time flies so fast when you're on his mind. In walks another doctor he’s seen around the hospital. There's no way this happened so quickly. He can’t believe this. He sees the man speaking to him but he’s not hearing anything besides the ringing in his ears. 
“I want Y/N to be my doctor.”
“Unfortunately, she can’t. She hasn’t been making much progress with you. We're hoping a more experienced doctor like myself can help you more than she can.”
He looks at him blankly. He feels himself slipping away. His hands clench and reach under his pillow, grasping his knife as the doctor reads from his clipboard. He won’t let someone speak about you like this. He won’t let them take you away from him. He grabs the doctor's hair and slits his throat, sawing through the man's blood vessels until he falls limp. A guard runs in and attempts to wrestle the knife out of his hands but he overpowers him, plunging the knife into his chest repeatedly. Seonghwa’s fuled by blind rage, no one will stop him from avenging your honor. How dare they speak of you like this as he kills the fourth and final guard to come in. He hears alarms blaring in the distance and looks at the clock. It's 9:05 am, he can feel you on your way to him.
_________________________
The blaring of the alarms push you to run faster, entering the high security section of the hospital. The commotion from down the hall gets louder as you approach his room. You come to a halt as you see a stream of blood running down the hall, coming from beyond his door. A loud thud from inside his room breaks you from your trance,  you push open the door, seeing the bodies of guards surrounding his bed.   
“Hwa” you gasp, eyes trained on the battered bodies. “What did you do?” you breathe out, finally looking up at him. 
He looks up at you from across the room, eyes wide and bloodshot. 
“What did I do?” He laughs maniacally. “Y/N, This is your fault. I did this because of you.” he says as he begins to approach you. 
“THEY TRIED TO KEEP ME FROM YOU!” He yells. “You were supposed to take care of me. YOU PROMISED!” He traps you against the wall next to the door. “Isn’t that your job? Nurse me back to my right state of mind? Figure out what's wrong with me? But you didn’t do that. No,no, no you just made me fall in love with you, you made me want you! So don’t act like this is my fault.” he says as he lightly drags the knife across your throat.
“No ones going to keep me away from you, my love.” he whispers into your ear. He leans over and locks the door before looking back at you.
“Do you think I’m going to hurt you?”
“No.” you answer with full confidence.
He smiles at you, but it's not the same smile your Seonghwa gives you. You don’t know who this is. 
"I want my Hwa back, I don;t like you like this.”
“I am your Hwa, Baby. I did this for you Y/N. Don’t you see how much I love you?” he says, dropping the knife and kissing down your neck. 
“I know, Hwa.” you sigh heavily, feeling his cock hardening against your stomach. 
“Say you love me too. I know you do.”
Do you love him? Can you love someone who’d do this? The longer you stay quiet the more upset he gets. “It's ok baby. I’ll love you enough for the both of us.” he sighs. “One day you’ll realize how much you love me.”
He runs his hands down your body, squeezing your ass. He flips you around, pressing your chest to the wall. 
“I’m gonna fuck you so hard, Y/N. I’ll be all you think about for the rest of your life.”
He shoves your pants down and rips your panties off you, rubbing his fingers through you. “Fucking hell, you’re a filthy fucking liar. You do like me like this, look how wet you are.” he says bringing his soaking fingers in front of your face. Your breath quickens, seeing evidence of how wet you are.
“Just fuck me, Hwa.” you groan.
He pulls out his hard cock and rubs his tip through you. “I’ll make you mine, Y/N. You’ll let me cum in you right? Own this pussy”
“Yes, Hwa. Please.”
He lines himself up and slides in slowly, gripping your hips tightly at the sensation. 
“F-fuck, Baby. You feel so good, the best I’ve ever had.” he moans out. He fills you up completely, stretching you so painfully but not nicely. You savor the pain, it reminds you of  how taboo this is, how much you deserve to feel pain. Youre letting this psychopath fuck you in a room full of bodies, your colleagues blood on your body doing nothing but turning you on. You deserve to feel pain, but he turns that pain into pleasure with the first thrust. It’s like your pussy was made for him, you fit together perfectly. You can feel him in your stomach, so deep inside you, you can feel yourselves becoming one. He picks up his pace, thrusting into you harshly. 
“I’ve dreamt of this for so long. I’ve fucked my fist imagining it was this pussy. You couldn't even imagine all the nasty things I’d do to you, Bbay. I’d hurt you so bad but you’d love it, you’d beg me for more. B-beg me to make you mine.”
He pulls out quickly and flips you around, hiking you up the wall. You wrap your legs around his waist as he slides back in, fucking into you while staring into your eyes. 
“I need to see that pretty face when I breed you. I have everything planned out for us, Y/N. There's a beautiful house waiting for you, so many rooms to fill up with our beautiful babies. I know you’d be a great mother, my perfect little housewife.”
He picks up his pace, feeling you clenching around him, but desperate to come together. 
“I’d keep you full of my seed all the time, my love. You’d always feel me dripping out of you, I’d keep you nice and round with my babies for as long as I can. You want that don’t you? You wanna be my slutty little cum dump?”
You can barely answer him, let alone breathe. He’s hitting it so deep, you feel like your on another planet. You look down into his eyes and nod, mesmerized by his beautiful brown eyes. You’d let him do anything he wanted if it meant you felt like this forever. 
“Cum for me, my love. I’m going to fill you up so nicely, ok?”
You let go, clamping down on his cock and hearing his deep groan. His warm cum fills you up to the brim, leaking out of you, despite the vice-like grip your cunt has on him.
“So fucking tight and warm, baby” he blabbers, shallowly thrusting his seed back into you. He pulls you in for a kiss by your neck, claiming your mouth as his own. You pull back for air, giving him a blissed out smile. The words he so badly wants to hear hang on your tongue but you can’t give it to him yet. 
“I know, baby. You don’t have to say it, I already know.” he whispers against your lips and sets you down. 
He helps you fix your clothes and begins to pull you out of the hospital. As you see the chaos ensuing, the reality of the situation hits you. 
“Hwa, where are you taking me?”
“Hongjoong is outside we gotta go before the cops come.”
“Wait, what?” you pull back from him, stopping him in his tracks.
“Y/N, now's not the time.” he growls.
“Tell me what's going on.”
“You really think I was going to stay in this shit hole forever? Y/N, I’m not fucking crazy, I killed those people on purpose. The only reason I’m not rotting in jail is because I paid off the judge. I was planning my escape from the moment I got here but I only stayed this long because of you. So let's go.”
His words break you from your trance. This man is actually insane. You begin backing away from him but he gets visibly upset. “Y/N, don’t try this shit with me. You’re coming with me whether you like it or not.”
The dim lighting of the hallway and red lights from the alarms make him look sinister. For the first time you feel afraid of him. 
“I don’t want to go with you, Seonghwa.”
He looks at you blankly before grabbing you harshly. “
“I didn’t want to do it this way, Y/N. I wanted us to be happy, but if I have to force you to want me, so be it. He pulls out the sedative he took from one of the guards and pulls off the cap with his teeth. “You’ll be mine forever Y/N. That baby growing in your belly is proof enough.” 
He sticks the syringe into your neck, releasing the chemicals into your body. You feel the drugs immediately kick in, falling limp in his hold. 
“Hwa, please don’t.” you whimper.
He caresses your face with a pout. “Don’t worry, Baby. You’ll love me eventually, I’ll make sure of it.” 
He flashes you a wide, beautiful smile before everything fades to black.
1K notes · View notes
deepdarkdelights · 7 months
Text
As You Wish | Yoongi x Reader
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Pairing: Werewolf Yoongi x Reader
Word Count: 21k
Warnings: 18+, Spice but no Smut, Yandere, Obsession, Fear, Non-Consensual Kissing, Grieving, Passive Suicidality, MC experiences major depression, Non-Consensual Touching, Breaking and Entering, Stalking, Depictions of Gore, Blood, Technically Cannibalism? Loss of Spouse, Loss of Child, Forced Found Family, Hunting, Mass Death, Attempted Burning and the stake, MC is hit by a man (not Yoongi)
I do not condone the acts displayed in this story nor do I believe any members of BTS would actually engage in this type of behavior. This is simply written for entertainment purposes and should not be taken as a reflection of my own values, opinions, or morals. 
Preview: You couldn’t even scream when the door was ripped from its hinges, the beast breaking through it like it was wet parchment. You were petrified in place, hyperventilating and trembling at the sight of it. 
It was a giant wolf. It was covered from head to toe in midnight black fur although there were spots that seemed thinner than others that were littered in scars - slashes and bite wounds from what you could only imagine were others of its kind. It was larger than a horse with a head so huge it could bite your own clean off in one impressive snap. And then there were the eyes. They were glowing an ice cold silver in the dark with a glare that felt sharp enough to slice through you while a gnarled scar marred the fur and skin of its right eye.
A/N: I’m exhausted and grad school sucks but I really wanted to get this out for your guys. I hope you enjoy it, I spent way more time on it than I wanted to. I really thought it was only going to be 8k yet here we are…21k. Anyway, I miss all of you - sorry this is so long lol, this is SUPER UNEDITED. As usual, I can’t wait to see you in my inbox and comments, I love you and hope you enjoy 
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The sweet scent of flowers greeted your nose as you cracked open the window for the first time in months. 
Despite the warmth of sunshine and the bright green strokes of grass outside, it very well could have still been winter. It felt as if no time had passed since that fateful day. In your heart, winter still raged on. There were gnarled, ice-coated branches there and a torrent of never-ending snow. It had frozen over since then. 
You carried this sense of numbness you had never thought you would be capable of, it was as if your very soul had been corroded by frostbite. Any love or passion or warmth had been snuffed out like a match in the dark. 
That was the thing about grief, it could change a person into something that was beyond recognition. And your grief was immeasurable. 
When you got married, you never imagined your husband would die within the first year. 
It truly had been a cruel winter that year. The two of you were making do with what food you had. He had always been so smart, planning out what you could have each day so that it would last until spring. The only problem was the fire wood. No one could have anticipated how cold it was going to be and if you hadn’t burned as much kindling as you did you were certain you would have frozen to death. 
You could still remember that gentle look he had given you before he left. The soft touch of his fingers to your cheek, the gentle kiss he left you with. He still had every ounce of charm he had had as a boy. He had always been kind and sweet to you. He was the gentlest man you had ever known. That was why his death hurt even more. 
You had been worried the minute he left, but as minutes bled into hours and the winter sun quickly disappeared behind the mountains you were frightened to the bone. He had only an ax and a knife with him. He brought no food and no more clothing than what was on his back. He was planning on making a short trip and if he didn’t come back right away the chances of him surviving the night were slim to none. 
His body was found the next day. 
Honestly, you didn’t remember that day all too well. Everything was a blur, you could faintly remember hearing the voices of a few men from the village, the feeling of your raw throat after screaming senselessly, and the surplus of food and supplies that were sent your way with small slips of paper that read: “Our condolences.” 
They wouldn’t let you see his body and that was something you would never forgive them for. You didn’t care how bad it was, you wanted to see him with your own eyes and you were never afforded that closure. But you had heard enough from hushed whispers outside. 
“Pieces,” they had said. 
He had been mauled to pieces. They couldn’t even find all of him and what was left of him had huge teeth marks raked through flesh. It was an animal attack. Just like you and your husband, they were hungry. 
And now you were all alone. You were a pariah, one that people pitied, but a pariah nonetheless. You would never be able to marry again, not that you wanted to, but no one would want a widow as their wife. That was the way of things, you were meant to live out the rest of your days in solitude. Nothing more than a sad story mother’s would tell their children as you passed through the markets in silence. Your story would become a warning for children not to wander off into the woods. Your tragedy would become a lesson. 
The only lesson that you had learned was that love meant pain. You had given yourself to someone entirely, and when they had parted from you, you were left with nothing. That was the danger of love, losing yourself. 
After months of wishing you had followed him out of this world, you were hit with the sudden clarity that you were being selfish. He had left to try and save the both of you, but here you were wasting the life he had given you. He had sacrificed himself in order for you to keep living for the both of you. 
Choosing to live was so much harder than choosing to die. 
You shoved those horrendous thoughts to the back of your mind as you traveled through your small cottage, prying open every stiff window that you passed by. Living meant starting with the little things, like getting your home in order. It didn’t feel the same without him, but at least now that it was warmer out you wouldn’t have to stay inside and constantly be reminded of his absence. 
You stripped your bed, gathered up the used linens, and scooped up piles of worn clothes from the floor before depositing them in the basket. You were distracting yourself, that much you were certain of. But any distraction was welcome, you couldn’t bear the silence filled thoughts of him any longer. 
You heaved the basket up onto your hip and made for the door, pausing as you were faced with the blooming greenery beyond the threshold. The breeze was cool, the air was fresh. The world was starting over once again, why was it so hard for you? 
You shook the troubling thought from your head, squared your shoulders, and took a deep breath. You could at least try. And so, you stepped outside for the first time in months and faced the world. It was almost like nothing changed. The birds still chirped, the insects sang, and the rush of the river called from a distance. 
That was the other thing about grief. While it felt like your world ended, in reality, it still rushed onward. 
The soft grass sunk beneath your feet and sprung back to life as you walked, your body tense as you approached the forest. You weren’t going in too far, it was just the edge where the trees were still spread out and not too thick. You just needed to get to the river. But you couldn’t deny the sense of paranoia that was set in your bones. This was where he died, where he was mauled and consumed by whatever inhabited the forest. It would make sense that whatever animal that had ended his life was still prowling in the shadows, waiting for its next meal. 
“Stop it,” You snapped at yourself, your voice hoarse from lack of use and louder in the soft sounds of nature. 
You weren’t going far, you were going to be safe. There was no reason to be so anxious when you wouldn’t be putting yourself in danger. You weren’t walking into the lion's den, you were doing laundry. 
Despite your scolding, you still snapped your head in every direction when you finally reached the river. You were unsettled by every little noise, hyper aware of everything that was going on around you. For a task that was so mundane, you felt so on edge. 
The rush of icy water against your hands was enough to help you focus on the task at hand. The river had finally unfrozen. While your husband and yourself frequently bathed in the river during the warmer months, you had no plans on doing that anytime soon lest you be chilled to the bone and catch your death. Maybe when you were younger you would have risked it all for a moment of fun. But you were older now, matured by time and tragedy. It was harder to have fun now. 
You threw the shirt you were washing on a rock beside you, the force of the toss resulting in a loud, wet slap. Your body bent forward under an oppressive imaginary weight as your icy fingers braced your face, a frustrated sigh leaving your lips causing your body to sink even further. 
Living for two people was going to be even harder than you thought. Even these simple, menial tasks felt exhausting. It had been a miracle you had been able to drag yourself out of bed, that you had made it outside, that you had even journeyed to the river. But those things should be easy, so why did they feel so hard? 
You felt weak.
Useless. 
Helpless. 
You couldn’t help but think had the roles been reversed, he would have been stronger than you. He would have mourned but he would have been able to survive. He would have been able to find another wife, he would have had the children he always wanted, and he could have been happy. It was hard to not feel like it should have been you, like you were just wasting the life he had given you. It was hard to not crumble beneath the crashing waves of grief that eroded your resolve. 
It was too hard. 
A high pitched whimper broke you out of your spiraling thoughts, your hands dropping to your lap and your head snapping to attention. You held your breath and pursed your lips, listening closely to try and hear the sound again. 
And there it was again. Although this time it was much louder and much longer. It sounded like something was in pain. And your curiosity got the better of you. 
You shifted your basket to the side and stood, gathering your skirts in one hand as you carefully lept from stone to stone as you crossed the river. Your heart raced as you slipped once then twice, the stones slick from the rushing water, but the cries were becoming louder and closer and you felt as if you had no other choice but to find out what they were coming from. 
Once you crossed the river, you moved slowly through the grass so as to not startle whatever it was that was frightened. Every now and then you would pause and hold your breath, listening intently for the creature's cries before following them once more. You could just barely make out the shape of the animal, its body concealed by a thick underbrush of branches, leaves, and thorns. 
You dropped down to your knees with abandon and blindly reached into the shrubbery. The cries were much louder now as the creature was startled by your invading hands. Thorns raked through your flesh as you grabbed hold of the small furry body and pulled, trying your hardest to gently remove the little animal. A loud cry made you stop, halting all of your progress. It looked like it was tangled up in something. 
You quickly moved on to your second plan and softly placed the animal back down before grabbing thorn laced branches and snapping them with your bare hands. You hissed in pain as blood beaded up from the small cuts that now decorated your palms. You couldn’t fathom where this sudden rush of determination came from or why you felt like you so desperately needed to do this. That same rush that came over you to find the animal was present and even stronger with the desire to free it. You felt it on some deeper level, that you just couldn’t leave it behind. 
There was a generous pile of branches beside you now and you could very clearly see what you were dealing with. It looked like a puppy. It was very small with soft chocolate brown fur, a short nose, and the cutest pointed ears. Its big brown eyes were welled up with tears, its tail tucked between its legs, and its entire body shook in fright. 
Your horror stricken gasp was muffled as you involuntarily covered your mouth in surprise. The poor pup was tangled up in a snare. The wire was cinched tightly around its hind leg, chest, and foreleg, cutting in so tightly that blood was visible on the metal. The poor thing had run right into the trap and was stuck. You could only hope that it wasn’t intended for the puppy, that it had run into some hunter’s trap purely by accident. 
Your already lacerated hands went straight back to work trying as you attempted to untangle the snare as gently as you could. You hissed as it sliced your palms but paused only a moment to wipe the blood off on your pinafore before continuing your work. By the time you had finally managed to undo the trap, beads of sweat clung to your neck and the sun had moved a decent way across the sky. 
“There you go,” You murmured, “you’re free.” 
The puppy, although now free, didn’t move. Its deep brown eyes stared up at you as it continued to whine, its entire body still shaking with unadulterated fright. 
“Can you walk?” You asked, sitting back on your calves to get a better look at the animal.
You were shocked when it responded, in a way. The puppy attempted to stand and then walk, but it only made it two steps with a clear limp before it collapsed flat on its belly with a yipe. 
“Of course you can’t, I’m sorry,” You cooed as you reached out. Your hand paused in midair, hesitating before trying to touch the puppy. It was probably a wild dog, so it was not a good idea to go touching an animal that very well could bite you, no matter how cute it was. 
The puppy, as if it had read your mind, answered for you by leaning forward and sniffing your fingers with a cold, wet nose, before lapping at them with its little tongue. It was like any other puppy then, it wasn’t aggressive yet. 
You chewed your lip in thought as you watched the pup. It wasn’t a good idea to take in stray animals, but it was injured and leaving it in the forest would be like ringing a dinner bell for all the predators in the area. All of the blood the pup and yourself had shed was certainly not helping. And then there was the crippling loneliness of your cottage. A dog would be good for that. It would be something to share the space with, something to break up the cacophonous silence. And, when it grows older, it would be good for protection as well. The benefits outweigh the negatives you selfishly refused to think of. 
With the pup’s approval, you lifted it up and cradled it into your side much like a mother would her child. You giggled in delight from the feeling of a wet nose burrowing its way into your shoulder and neck, sniffing the cloth of your dress and your skin like it was trying to become accustomed to you. 
You crossed the river even slower now on your way back, very aware of the precious animal you were protecting. When you stopped at the river bank, you gathered your abandoned laundry and placed the puppy in the basket. You didn’t really care about the dirt, grass, and blood that would inevitably stain the fabrics - afterall, they still needed to be cleaned and you had much more pressing issues to attend to. 
You walked back with a sudden urgency in your steps, a small trill of excitement buzzing in your being. After months of isolation and misery, something so small had brought you joy, something that had been unimaginable a few hours before. 
The pup was much calmer now, softly panting instead of crying as it laid in your basket of sheets, eyeing the world that passed by as you brought the two of you back to your cottage. When you made it inside, you shut the bottom half of the door, leaving the top half open to allow fresh air in without the risk of the pup wandering out and falling down the stone steps. When you placed the basket on the ground it nosed at the sheets for a moment before limping out of the basket. 
“No, no, no, stay right there,” You chided, gently scooting it back into the sheets, “you’ll hurt yourself worse if you do that.” 
You stayed a moment, locking eyes with the pup to ensure that it would stay and understand. When you were certain that it was calmed you finally turned your back and headed into the kitchen. You rummaged through the cabinets, searching for the healing salves and creams you knew had been there months before along with the strips of makeshift bandages. 
Within mere moments of turning your back on the puppy you were alerted once more by its cries. It had tried following you again but was now laying in a heap on the floor, tangled up in the sheet and crying from the pressure it applied on its wounds. 
You dropped the bandages and rushed to the pup, cooing as you picked it up and cradled it against your chest. The little thing was an escape artist, that was certain. 
You let out a deep sigh as an uncomfortable thought brewed in your mind. It was the only option that you could think of, even though it was terribly unpleasant. Before you could dwell too much you headed towards the back of the cottage where a single door was fixed into the frame. It stuck at your first pull but relented on the second, the hinges creaking in defeat as you entered the room. 
Any furniture that was in the room was coated with a thin layer of dust having gone undisturbed for months. That old wound in your heart was bleeding around the edges now, the pain of avoided thoughts bubbling back up to the surface. 
There was a crib against the far wall of the bedroom. 
You swiftly moved to the back of the room and gently placed the pup inside the crib. The sides were high enough that the injured dog would be unable to climb over and you were confident that this was the safest place for the poor thing. 
But even that knowledge couldn’t stop tears from pricking at the corner of your eyes as your hands subconsciously cradled your belly. Your pregnancy had been short lived. Losing your husband had been the catalyst to losing your child, but you couldn’t help but blame yourself. Even though the midwife had promised you it wasn’t your fault you couldn’t see how that could be true. If you had been stronger, if you had taken better care of yourself, you would have been able to save that last piece of him. 
If you hadn’t been pregnant, maybe things would have been different. Your husband would have stayed and you would have figured out how to make it through the rest of the winter. But you had been pregnant, he had left to find more resources because of that, and even though he sacrificed his life for you and your unborn child you hadn’t been able to save them. 
You couldn’t see how any of this wasn’t your fault when you were at the center of it all. 
The feeling of cool tears rolling down your cheeks shocked you back to reality. You weakly wiped the tears away, sniffed, and shook your head. You needed to clean yourself and the pup up, you had priorities. 
You rushed around the cottage, busying yourself with what needed to be done. You ran to the water pump and wet some rags, retrieved the salves and bandages, and grabbed a bowl of poultry meat for the dog. This was a welcome distraction. 
You were greeted by excited, squeaky barks when you returned to the abandoned nursery. The pup eagerly paced back and forth, its little tail wagging so hard its entire backside wiggled. You let out a gentle giggle before releasing it from the crib and sitting the two of you on the floor, pulling the pup into your lap and distracting it with a strip of meat while you assessed its injuries once more. 
You blinked once and then twice in confusion. You could have sworn the wounds had been much worse not more than half an hour ago. The slashes were still bloody and in need of tending to, but they were not the deep, gnarled gashes that had once needed stitching. You were either still out of your mind or this animal had the fastest healing time you had ever seen. 
It was much easier to believe that your mind was failing you. And so, you got to cleaning and wrapping the wounds. The pup was surprisingly well behaved, only whimpering every now and then as you touched a tender spot but it didn’t jerk away and did its best to stay still as it ate. The more time you spent with it, the more you realized it was much smarter and more aware than you had once thought. Everything about the little creature seemed eerily human when you thought about it too much. It was better to not think about it too hard. 
Trapped in your own mind, you hadn’t realized that you had finished your work. Not until you felt the gentle lap of a little tongue against the wounds that decorated your palms, jolting you back into the real world. 
You pulled your hands away with a pained hiss before reprimanding the puppy, “No, no, no, I don’t know where that mouth of yours has been. The last thing we need is an infection.”
The puppy whined in earnest and nosed at your palm once more before you pulled your hands away again and scooped the little thing back up into your arms. This way, it wouldn’t be able to mess with the cuts. 
After you tended to your palms, applying salve and wrapping them securely, you couldn’t help but notice the odd tingling you felt emanating from them. It was warm and fuzzy and completely unexplainable - your salves had never caused that sensation before. 
As time passed and the sun crossed over the sky before dipping beneath the horizon, the feeling became stronger until it was a pulse-like thrum causing your hands to tremble before steadily declining until it was nothing more than a memory. And an odd one at that. 
It was when you began to turn in for the night, that everything fell apart. 
You didn’t notice that the crickets had fallen silent nor that the wildlife of the forest had completely disappeared. You hadn’t noticed the hollow ringing that came from the wind slipping between the trees. It was the calm before the storm, and you had no idea what was coming. 
The candlelight was dim, casting soft ochre colored shadows over the wood and stone of the cottage. The puppy slept soundly in your arms. Everything was calm. 
That was of course until a howl fractured the peace. It was so loud you could have sworn you felt the floorboards shake as a rush of fright went down your spine. The soft lull of sleep was suddenly long forgotten. 
The pup in your arms stirred at the noise, its ears perking up and its head frozen in place as it recognized the sound. It was on high alert. It knew what was out there. 
You shakily stood and approached the door, the top portion of it still unlatched and swung outward.  Outside of the lamp affixed to the stone above the door, the forest was pitch black. You could barely make out the twisted shape of the trees and the brooke that had once been in sight was obscured. But, what was even stranger, was that you were certain that the shadows were moving. 
You tilted your head to the side, squinting your eyes as you tried to make out what exactly you were looking at. And then, it was close enough that the light bounced off of it and you were met with the horrifying sight of a set of bright silver eyes staring back at you from the dark. 
You were frozen in an instant. But once you realized those eyes were steadily coming closer with a hulking form attached, you acted on instinct, slamming the door shut and latching it closed. You could only hope that the door would hold against whatever that thing was. 
Your chest rose and fell with heavy pants as you became more and more unsettled. Why was it so quiet? Why couldn’t you hear something so big moving? Where was it? What direction was it coming from? Your back met the wall and your weak knees had you sliding down to the ground. 
Your entire body was shaking in pure terror. There was something out there, something massive and monstrous. You held the pup in your arms tighter, bringing it to your chest for comfort as well as protection. 
You yelped as a loud bang popped the eerie silence. Whatever it was, it was slamming its body alongside the cottage. But it wasn’t doing it mindlessly, like it thought it could break through the walls. It was purposeful, it was an attempt to frighten you and determine where you were. It was smart. 
You curled into yourself as it came closer. You could hear heavy, sharp pants in between the vicious snarls that it was making. It sounded wild, primal, and predatory. It was hunting. 
The pup in your arms began whining and wriggling around as it tried to escape your grasp and all it was doing for you was frightening you even more. All it was doing was making more noise, drawing more attention to itself. And you knew it had, the creature outside had gone silent. It was listening. 
And then chaos unraveled in seconds. 
You couldn’t even scream when the door was ripped from its hinges, the beast breaking through it like it was wet parchment. You were petrified in place, hyperventilating and trembling at the sight of it. 
It was a giant wolf. It was covered from head to toe in midnight black fur although there were spots that seemed thinner than others that were littered in scars - slashes and bite wounds from what you could only imagine were others of its kind. It was larger than a horse with a head so huge it could bite your own clean off in one impressive snap. And then there were the eyes. They were glowing an ice cold silver in the dark with a glare that felt sharp enough to slice through you while a gnarled scar marred the fur and skin of its right eye. 
Your body slowly began to slump to the ground, falling weak before the wolf. You looked like the perfect prey, like a rabbit that was so frightened its own heart had stopped. It seemed that the wolf thought similarly. It approached you slowly like it was still on the prowl as angry snarls left its gaping maw. You could feel your blood run cold as you caught sight of its enormous teeth, each one long enough that they could be made into daggers. Whatever this creature was, it was no mere wolf, it was something else entirely. 
Your hold on the pup was weakened as your chest and forehead met the ground, bending beneath the invisible weight of the wolf’s presence. From beneath the cover of your hair you could make out its large paws and hooked nails mere inches away from you. It was so close now that you could feel puffs of its hot breath disturb your hair and ghost over your neck. You were breaths away from death. 
You couldn’t decide if you wanted to flee or embrace it as you had once desired. 
A soft whimper involuntarily escaped you as you waited, feeling the tip of its nose brush over your head as its snarls grew louder. A sudden loud yapping broke the tension. 
The pup was frantically barking at the wolf and lunging at it in a playful manner all the while standing in front of you like it was trying to protect you. The sight would have been comical had you not been on the brink of passing out. This tiny puppy was fiercely defending you against this monster. 
And, to your surprise, it was working. 
Once you gained the courage to raise your head you were met with the sight of the wolf’s intense gaze trained on the puppy. More specifically, its gaze was trained on the bandages covering its wounds. The wolf looked back at you, its hauntingly silver eyes making you flinch. It continued to stare at you for a long moment like it was contemplating something, that of which you were unaware of. But then its gaze hardened and its predatory stance relaxed. It had made its decision. 
Without another snarl or howl it nipped the pup by its scruff and began to carry it out of the cottage. It stopped for a moment once it had successfully squeezed out of the broken door frame and looked back at you, this too was a look that you were unable to decipher. It gave you a slow blink and then turned, carrying the pup back to the forest and disappearing into the darkness. 
It was in that moment that you finally realized that it had not been a dog you had rescued, but that wolf’s pup. 
And with that realization you completely collapsed to the floor and were dragged into a dark, dreamless, restless sleep. 
~~~~~~~
Yoongi had come to realize that there wasn’t much that you could do to discipline a two year old, especially a two year old that was a shifter. 
His daughter, Binna, had little control over her form and had a knack for slipping away and getting into trouble. That was something he could blame on his other pack members, specifically the youngest three. 
He huffed out a sigh as he carefully extracted twigs and leaves from her messy hair, flinging them back into the underbrush. She was the very definition of a wild child. And while it wasn’t uncommon for pups her age to be curious and adventurous, it was uncommon that she so readily welcomed and followed humans. 
Humans were dangerous, that was something he had tried his best to get her to understand but she simply couldn’t. She was too young to understand how they could hunt her and hurt her, far too young to realize what that meant, and far too young to understand that it was a human that had taken her mother away from them. 
Then again, she hadn’t known her mother all too well. That was evidenced by her clinging to any female shifter she had found and babbling out “mama” to the wrong mothers. She knew her mother was missing, but she couldn’t match the face to the name. He couldn’t really blame her all that much. Her mother had been amongst the best hunters and was oftentimes absent as she hunted for the pack’s survival. Yoongi was a defender, he was there to ensure the safety of everyone that resided within their territory. He was at the front lines. And because of that, his wife was often gone and he was almost always home. To his daughter, her mother was a faceless being. 
“Let me see,” He demanded firmly, trying to unwind the bandages that were already slipping from her skin. 
She nipped at his fingers playfully, her serrated canines gleaming as she giggled. Yoongi tried his best to suppress his smile, he was supposed to be upset with her. He sighed once more and grabbed the edge of the bandage and began to unwind it. 
“No,” She cried in a drawn out whine, “Mama gave me! Mama gave me!” 
Yoongi froze, startled as he registered her fractured speech. She thought that human in the cottage was her mother. 
He could see why she would think that, you had taken care of her after all. From what he had seen from the wounds he knew they came from a hunter's trap, snares made from silver that were so small they had clearly been designed for pups as no adult shifter would ever be able to be caught in that small a snare. It was clear that you had rescued his daughter and taken care of her in his absence. 
And for some reason, Yoongi could only press his lips together in a firm line and failed to correct his daughter. At the end of the day, she wasn’t necessarily wrong. 
Yoongi knew you.
He had known you for a while now. He had watched you the day you and your husband had moved in. The two of you had chosen a location that was incredibly close to their territory and so he scouted you out for days to ensure that you wouldn’t stumble too far from your home, to ensure that you weren’t a threat. 
He had thought you two were safe, and that was his biggest mistake. 
Yoongi would not say that he was enamored with you, but he was definitely interested in you. He had gone his entire life knowing to never trust a human, but as he observed he couldn’t help but be enthralled by your little human quirks. 
You were so blissfully unaware of his presence as he silently stalked you. Your husband, like his wife, was often gone during the day and you were left to amuse yourself. For someone of your age, you had this odd youthful aura about you. He would watch as you would jump into the brooke, spinning around and splashing with abandon not unlike his child would. 
That version of you that he knew though, that was long gone. Loss has aged you, hardened you. Even though you were completely ensnared by fright he could see the hollowness in your eyes when he had ripped your door from its hinges. 
The both of you had been irreparably changed by loss. 
And then there was the other problem. He was indebted to you and you were now in his care. While he refused to acknowledge any attachment he felt for you, he couldn’t deny the attraction. It was incredibly wrong considering his own disdain for humans, but he couldn’t help himself. There was something else there, this odd discomfort in his chest that demanded to be felt, a sour feeling in his stomach at the thought of your frightened face. 
This was not good. 
Contrary to popular belief, wolves do not mate for life. And as a shifter that was even more true. While many chose to bond to one another, it was not horribly uncommon to find a new mate if one were to leave or die. And, very rarely, there were intense bonds that made it so that you did mate for life. In the case of his wife, it was not that type of bond. Of course he was hurt, of course he missed her, but it was not the debilitating grief that you experienced. It was natural for his kind, evolutionary even.  
The attachment, this bond he felt for you paired with his daughter’s stubborn belief that you could be her mother made him make a decision far faster than he should have. 
You lost a husband, he lost a wife. An even trade. Why could you not fill those roles for each other? 
~~~~~~~
The following days were ones where you lived in a state of fright and confusion. 
When you awoke the next morning you were greeted by the feeling of the floor against your cheek and a stiff ache in your joints. Apparently, you had spent the night collapsed on the floor. 
When you finally mustered up the strength to stand there were several things that were brought to your attention. Firstly, that there was now a gaping hole in the wall from where your door had once stood. Secondly, the events that occurred the night before had not been a grief conjured hallucination. And thirdly, the pain in your hands had completely disappeared. 
Upon unwinding the bandages you were met with completely closed wounds and thin scars that looked years old. Your suspicions had been proven correct, that wolf and its pup were certainly not just animals not with the way a few stray licks had healed your palms. Your fingers trembled in fright at the realization before you grabbed another roll of bandages and wrapped them tightly in a panic. 
Out of sight, out of mind. 
You followed the same thought as you gathered up sheets, a cord, and pins with the intention to cover up the missing door to your cottage. 
Out of sight, out of mind. 
Unfortunately, that was not possible for you. Before you could even attempt to hang the sheets you were frozen in place a foot away from what was once the threshold. On the cobblestone porch was a carcass. You stared at it, dumb in shock as you tried to understand what you were looking at. It wasn’t a complete animal, it had been skinned and cleaned and left on your porch laying out on a thick piece of brown paper packaging. At first, you considered the possibility that it was another mourning gift from one of your neighbors in town but that was very quickly debunked. For one, they typically cooked the meat or met you at the door. And secondly, there were clear claw marks in the bone and large tooth impressions left behind. You had a sick feeling that you knew where this came from. But it didn’t make any sense, no wolf could clean a carcass like this - this was work done by human hands. 
Despite your conclusion, when you raised your head you were once more greeted by the sight of the wolf. He was much closer than he had been the first time you saw him the night before. He laid right by the end of the treeline - half of his body submerged in shade and the other half bathing in the golden glow of the early morning light. Those silver eyes were watching you intently, waiting to see what you would do next. 
That only confirmed your suspicions, he had brought it for you. It was a peace offering of sorts, a truce. In spite of that knowledge your hands still trembled when you grabbed a corner of the parchment and dragged the carcass past the threshold. The wolf’s alert and tense body almost immediately relaxed. It was like it was relieved. 
It stared after you for a moment longer, gave you a slow blink, and then rose and melted back into the forest - vanishing as if it hadn’t even been there in the first place. 
And so you hung your sheet, peeled the flesh from the bone of the carcass, and disposed of the remains. 
Out of sight, out of mind. 
~~~~~~~
When you woke the next day, the makeshift curtain was pulled to the side and wrapped around a bent hinge that was still mounted to the wall. Another thing you were certain wolves were incapable of. 
And there, on the stoop, laid a pile of wild berries and fruit on a small, clean cloth. And, not far away, the wolf was there once more. Although this time it was much closer, so close in fact that you could visibly make out the twisted scar around its eye. It was laying down, much like a dog would, with its large head raised in alert. Those silver eyes flicked slowly from the present and back to you three times, a clear signal that it was waiting for you to take them. It only relaxed when you brought them inside just like the day before. 
This pattern between the two of you persisted for several days to follow. And, no matter how you tried to forget what had happened that night, this creature was making it virtually impossible. It was ironic how you had once longed for company and were willing to settle for it from a dog but now that you had someone, well something, watching over you you were incredibly unnerved by the ordeal. But you couldn’t exactly shoo the hulking creature away. 
And so each day passed and more presents followed. One day it was bunches of wildflowers, another it was game of varying sizes, and another was a thick pelt that had been handcrafted into a blanket for the cold spring nights. You didn’t know how to exactly decline a gift from a mythical creature. Wouldn’t there be horrible repercussions for that? 
The urgency to put a stop to this odd arrangement became even more apparent when a gold pendant was left at your door and the wolf had crept so close that it was less than fifteen feet away. It was beginning to make your home its territory and now it was somehow stealing items you had only dreamed of affording when you were young. It was all too much. 
You wound the chain of the pendant around your fingers as you hesitantly crept down the stone steps. The creature perked up in interest, elevating its head again as you slowly approached it, your body shaking in fright in spite of your attempts to school yourself into a false confidence. 
“I-” You paused to clear your throat, “I can’t accept this. You’ve done more than enough for me, you’re forgiven.” 
It only cocked its head to the side in response. You were just a crazy woman talking to an animal, weren’t you?
“Here, take it,” You tried again, reaching out your palm to it as the chain caught the sun and glistened in the morning light. 
It was looking at you like you were dumb. 
“Fine,” You sighed, “I’ll just leave it here then and you can take it back to wherever you got it from.” 
You lightly tossed it onto the grass and turned your back on the creature before briskly walking back to your cottage. And, despite the haste in which you walked, you were no match for the massive wolf. 
A startled shriek left your lips as you felt a large, warm body bump against your side and thick fur rub up against your skin. Another shriek was forced past your lips when its tail wacked you on the backside like it had a mind of its own. 
Gold glinted in its teeth before the pendant was unceremoniously dropped on your stone steps, the placement much more haphazard than it had been that morning.
If this had happened a few days before, you were certain you would have been more frightened, but now your patience was far too thin and you were in desperate need for your privacy and a sense of normalcy. 
“If you’re going to keep bringing me things, at least let them be useful! Like a door, for instance. You know, that thing you ripped off of my home!” 
The wolf huffed in what almost sounded like an amused chuckle before rising and stalking towards you, crowding you up against the side of the cottage. Your heart pounded as you realized you had made a grave error, you were not the one in charge here. 
You clenched your eyes shut as you felt a warm puff of air over your face and a wet nose prod your cheek. You shook as you remembered the creature's giant fangs and huge body. You were certain now that it was going to eat you now that you had denied it, these were the repercussions that you feared.
What you hadn’t anticipated though, was the feeling of it pressing its head on top of yours and whining like an overgrown puppy. It was acting like you had hurt its feelings. You hesitantly cracked an eye open only to see this huge, scarred, wolf nuzzling your head and then your hands like it was begging for affection. 
A surprised laugh came straight from your chest as you shakily began to pet the wolf. The wolf that had previously been ready to kill you after you had accidentally kidnapped its child. 
“Alright, alright, cut it out!” You squealed, laughing hysterically as it began to lick you. You quickly froze when you realized that that was the first time you had laughed in months. It was the first time you had laughed since your husband had died. 
You gently pushed against the wolf’s large head as you side stepped around it, a frown now tugging down the corners of your mouth. It felt so wrong to be happy. 
Your companion noticed your swift shift in behavior. It ducked its head down and nosed at your back not all that gently as you stumbled forward. 
“Don’t you have a child you need to get back to?” You hissed, a sudden wave of irritation rushing over you. 
This wasn’t all that uncommon for you. The rapid changes in your emotions. It was easy to feel joy wither away to apathy, to frustration, to anger. Oftentimes you felt like you had no control over how you felt and it left you grasping at straws as you tried to hold yourself together. It was just so hard. 
“Go on, go home,” You sighed, flicking your hand in the general direction of the trees, “I don’t doubt that you’ll be back tomorrow anyways.” 
The wolf stared at you again, as it tended to, before purposefully bumping its large body against you once more and making for the forest. It hesitated for a moment, looking back over its shoulder to give you one last look, and then it was gone again. 
That was what you wanted, wasn't it? But if that were true then why did you hate the loneliness that you were left with so much? 
~~~~~~~
That morning, early in the morning, you were awoken by the sound of a hacksaw. 
For a brief moment, in the hazy grasp of sleep, you allowed yourself to settle back down when you realized it was just your husband getting an early start on the daily chores. 
But your husband was dead. 
With that sobering thought you jolted fully awake, gripping your blanket tightly in your hands and pulling it up over your mouth as you struggled to control your breathing. Your neighbors were out of the way and they rarely came to visit anymore outside of the kind supply drops they had provided you with throughout the rest of the winter. So, if it wasn’t them, then who was it? 
You rose and with the blanket still wrapped around you, you made for the door as quietly as you could. Once again, the curtain was pulled and fixed to the side like it usually was whenever your companion came to visit you. But the person that stood outside, mere steps away, was very clearly not the massive wolf you had come to know. 
You could only see him from the back, but he was very clearly a man. He was a decent height with longer, thick, raven hair that began to curl at the ends. From what you could see of him, you could make out stretches of porcelain skin. He was wearing a loose fit white top and he had rolled the sleeves up past his elbows exposing pale forearms with impressive veins and hands that looked like they had been carved from marble. 
Your cheeks grew warm as you realized you were spending far too much time appreciating his appearance rather than worrying about what this stranger's intentions with you and your home were. “What are you doing here?”
The man continued his work, sawing at the wood until the cut was complete before he responded. You then realized that he had been very aware of your presence the entire time, he had not been startled at all. 
“You asked for a door, did you not?” He replied, sarcasm tainting his words, as he brushed the sawdust from his hands and turned to look at you. 
His face was just as lovely as the rest of him. Dark brows, doll-like lips, and deep brown eyes that had the gentlest slope to them. He was beautiful, that was undeniable. 
But what was most apparent and most worrying, was the long scar that ran over his right eye. A scar that you had most definitely seen before. Your body stumbled backwards on instinct, trying its hardest to create more distance between the two of you. 
The man raised an eyebrow, a look of pure amusement etched into his features, “You weren’t afraid of me yesterday but you are now? You are a confusing little human, you know that?”
“You - that’s, that’s not possible!” You gasped, tightening your hold on your blanket. “What you’re insinuating is not possible!” 
He chuckled to himself, leaning his weight back on his hands as he dropped his chin down, “You want me to prove it to you? I could if you really wanted me to, I do like these clothes though so I’ll only do it if you give me a reason.” 
The thought of watching this man, creature, wolf, whatever he was burst out of his flesh and take on a different form was horrifying enough that you were certain you would faint at the very sight. Already you were shaken by the thought of this being possible, you didn’t know if you would be able to handle the sight. Not to mention that subtle innuendo that whenever he decided to take the form of a man again he would be as bare as the day he was born. It was all too much. 
“Please don’t!” You cried, “Don’t do that!”
“As you wish,” He nodded with a teasing smile as he turned back to the door in progress. “Perhaps some other time.”
“What is it exactly that you want from me, if you are who you say you are?” You asked. 
“I am responsible for you.” He said with a shrug, picking up the saw once more and continuing his work as if what he said made any sense at all. 
“No, you are not. No one is responsible for me, you owe me nothing.”
“I don’t? I would think I at least owe you a door, that is what you said after all, remember?” 
Heat rushed to your face in pure frustration and embarrassment. He was just as infuriating and insufferable as he was when he was an overgrown dog…that is of course if you were truly willing to believe in that sort of thing.  But how else could he have known about your request for the door? Why else would he believe he was responsible for you had you not saved his child’s life? Unless he were some creepy, stalking stranger, he would have no knowledge of these events. This man was the very thing your town hunted and was frightened of. 
“Just the door then? That’s all? You will leave after you’ve finished it and your debt will be repaid. You will leave me alone?” You asked. 
He paused for a moment, a confused expression taking over his face. He looked at you as if he realized he couldn’t comprehend what you were asking of him. “You confuse me.”
“I confuse you?” You laughed, “I woke up this morning to a strange man outside my home claiming to be something that up until this morning I didn’t believe in, who claims he is responsible for me and owes me when all I want is peace and privacy!”
“That, that confuses me.” He admitted. 
“What?!” You cried in exasperation. 
“How can someone who so clearly hates being alone also want to keep it that way?”
You wrapped your blanket around yourself tighter, as if that would somehow shield you from the sudden sense of exposure that washed over you. You were feeling vulnerable. You were feeling seen. 
“You humans are social creatures, not unlike my kind, yet when you need help, when you’re in distress, you push your pack away. It goes against every natural instinct that you have, it doesn’t make any sense.” He laughed with a shake of his head. 
“You are alone here, you have no one to protect you. I can keep you safe in every meaning of the word. Whether that means building you a door, forgive me by the way, or guarding your land. I want to protect you.” 
There was a gentle flutter in your heart, one that you desperately wanted to stomp out but were failing to do so. You hadn’t been affected by someone like this since your husband and you didn’t know if you should feel guilty about that. He was supposed to be the one allowed to move on, not you. These feelings weren’t supposed to be for you, they were supposed to pass. It was your job to mourn his loss; he was supposed to be your one and only love. These feelings were supposed to be wrong. So why, deep down, did you enjoy them? 
Instead of telling him to leave, to abandon his work and yourself, you made the mistake of giving him a chance. You made the mistake of entertaining him. 
“I don’t even know who you are,” You said with a laugh of disbelief. 
“Yoongi,” He smiled, a wolfish smile, “And you do know me, I’ve been here longer than you know.” 
That wasn’t the comforting sentiment that he was trying to make it be. Just how long had he been watching you? You were reluctant to linger on that thought much longer, so you moved on. 
“How long will this take you?” You asked, shuffling closer to his work. 
“Not long. Lucky you, you happened to pick a shifter whose trade is in woodworking.”
“A shifter? So, that’s what you are?” 
Yoongi pursed his lips, his brows furrowed, he was thinking. It was like he was still deciding if he could trust you or not. He was deciding just how much information he was willing to give up to you despite the fact that you had seen him in his other form. 
He nodded. 
“Are there…are there more of you?”
“Yes,” He reluctantly admitted, you had already seen his daughter after all. 
“Why is it that I have only met one of your kind now?”
“Because, we’re discreet. We have to be. You found my daughter in that hunter’s snare, remember?”
“Your daughter,” You echoed, “is she alright?” 
Yoongi practically preened at your concern. All you were doing was giving him validation, you could and would be a good mother to her. You could be a good mate for him. 
“Our kind heals fast, she’s already running around causing more trouble,” He chuckled, “but don’t be mistaken, I am grateful for what you did for her. You saved her life and you helped heal her. I owe you much more than you know.”
“I saved her life? You couldn’t mean…”
A grim look descended over his pretty features, a dark gaze settling in his eyes as he paused his work once more, his hands tightly gripping the tools they were holding. “That’s exactly what I mean. We have been hunted since the dawn of time. Woman, man, child, it makes no difference to them. Their entire goal is to eradicate us, they think we are abominations. It wasn’t enough that they took my wife, they tried to take my daughter as well.” 
Your heart ached in sympathy for him. You knew that feeling, the overwhelming wave of grief and pain that attempted to drown you in your suffering. You had lost your husband and a child, Yoongi was just as familiar with loss as you were. 
You crept closer to him, so close that you could feel the warmth that radiated off of his body like a stove. Hesitantly, you reached out to him and rested your hand on top of his. You could feel his grip go lax, his hand relaxing beneath your touch. 
“I know how terrible it can be to hear someone apologize and tell you that they know what you're going through, but I think this is one of those rare moments where it’s true.” You said. 
You could feel his gaze on you and the scarred skin of his hands beneath yours. He felt so incredibly close, this was the closest you had been to anyone in a while. You swallowed uncomfortably as you felt his hand turn over and the skin of his palm meet yours as his fingers laced their way in between yours. 
“My husband…he was killed this winter. I’ll never know what happened to him, or why it happened, but knowing that he’ll never be here again is the most painful thing I have ever felt. It’s indescribable.”
Yoongi tried his best to suppress the inappropriate smile that wanted to make its appearance known on his lips. You two truly did complete one another. You were two pieces of a puzzle that had not been intended to fit together, but had been carved up and forced together. You were altered, created for one another. He gave your hand a gentle squeeze, stroking his thumb down the curve where your palm met your finger in rhythmic swipes. 
“I know that feeling, I understand it well.”
I understand you, he wanted to say. 
“People like us, we should stick together. We can trust one another like no one else can.” He murmured, gently brushing up against your side. 
That was enough to wake you up from the dreamlike haze he had put you in. You stepped back, breaking your fingers away from his and holding your hand up to your chest. 
It was too soon, too much, you couldn’t be that close to someone, to a man nonetheless. You couldn’t trust him, you couldn’t trust anyone. 
Yoongi took a step forward and you took three back, retreating from the momentary comfort you had felt. But instead of looking dejected like you assumed he would, he looked determined, he looked sure of himself. And that only made you stumble back even more, stepping up your stone steps and into the house.
“I’ll leave you to your work.” 
This is what you did. Despite the entrapment you felt by your loneliness, it was familiar, it was right. The loneliness was easier. 
It was the only thing you knew you could hold on to for certain. 
~~~~~~~
In the days that followed, you became antsy to get out from beneath your visitor’s presence. 
You hurried past your uninvited guest, hoping that he wouldn’t notice you with his back turned to you. Your hopes were quickly dashed. 
“Where are you going?” He called over his shoulder. 
You came to a halt with an exasperated sigh, “Am I answering to you now?”
He only hummed in response and for a reason that you could not conceive, it lit you alight with agitation. “Where I go, is none of your concern!”
That caught his attention, his head slightly jerking to the side as he watched you from the corner of his eye. “It’s not safe out there, not when you’re alone.” 
“I was fully capable of finding my way through the forest before you got here, I seriously doubt that I have lost all sense of direction.”
“It’s not your sense of direction I’m worried about,” He sighed, “There’s more of my kind out there and more of your hunters - both of which would not bat an eye at a human getting caught in the crossfire.”
“It’s never been a problem before,”
“No, but it is now.” He said with a stern glare, his eyes not meeting your curious gaze, but instead staring into the distance. His shoulders were tense, his forearms flexed, he looked as if he was burdened with knowledge that he could not share. 
“Yoongi, what is that supposed to mean?” 
“Don’t wander off too far,” He deflected. 
You stayed for a moment, suddenly unsure as to what you should do. Moments before you were ready to get out from underneath his oppressive stare, but now you were intrigued. Yoongi had told you about the shared hatred between your species. The humans hunted the shifters and the shifters were reactionary killers. They followed an honor code closely and truly believed in an eye for an eye. So what had happened that now made it unsafe for you to traverse the woods when before it had never been a problem. Why would Yoongi’s kind attack you unprovoked?
Despite your stare, Yoongi was blatantly ignoring you, pretending that he didn’t notice you hadn’t left. That was enough to let you know that the conversation was over no matter how much you poked and prodded. 
Without another word, you left. Contrary to what Yoongi had believed, you wouldn’t be traveling too far. Your cottage and the shifter would not be in view, but you knew the way like the back of your hand. It was past the brook, and a good walk through the evergreens. What you were searching for was a small clearing. 
The trees lined the space in almost a perfect circle, something that appeared somewhat unnatural amidst the organic shapes of the woods. In the middle, there stood one weeping willow - completely out of place and the only one of its kind. And at the base of its gnarled roots was a simple stone with your husband's name carved into it. The earth was still turned, a reminder of just how fresh his death and the wounds they left behind on your heart were. 
You gently lowered yourself to the ground, your skirts folding beneath your knees as your fingers pressed into the dirt. You had often thought about crawling back to him, you had dreamed of being wrapped up in his warm embrace again, the two of you entwined and buried beneath a comforter of soil and flowers. In your dreams you were intertwined so tightly that years from now if anyone were to find you they wouldn’t be able to tell where you began and he ended. 
“Hello my love,” You whispered despite no one else being in the clearing. And of course, you were met with the silence, the ever present reminder that he had left you and that he was never coming back. 
You sniffled as your fingers smoothed down the fluffed dirt before digging into your basket and pulling out the prettiest wildflowers you could find with which you then began to arrange around the stone. You knew it wasn’t right to spend so much time here, you were holding on so dearly to someone that was gone and no matter how much love you held for him it would never be enough to revive him. 
When you were satisfied with your arrangement you allowed yourself to empty your eyes of the last of their tears before patting your cheeks dry with the edge of your pinafore. With clear eyes, you were now able to see a few things that you had missed before. 
Hanging from the boughs of the tree were several things. There were colored glass stars and moons that were strung up on several branches all of which varied in color and reflected the sun through them, casting brilliant shards of light over the earth. And, amongst those, were small wolves carved masterfully from wood. You slowly stood, your brows furrowed in confusion as you tapped one of the stars with a shaky finger. It swung back and an ethereal ringing sounded from within it. 
What were these doing here? At your husband’s grave? 
You looked back at the wooden wolves before you began to piece it together. Yoongi, he had a wife. Was this for her? Was this their version of funeral rites? But if that were true then she would have died recently, but why would she be buried here, where your husband had been killed and laid to rest? 
Your heart thumped, your palms began to sweat. 
No. No, you refused to believe it. 
Their words began to rush back to the forefront of your mind, “pieces,” and “consumed.” Your husband had been ripped apart and eaten, there was barely anything of him left behind. 
It was her, it had to have been her, she had been the one to kill him. But if that were true, then who had killed her? 
“I am responsible for you,” Yoongi’s words echoed through your mind. 
They had a code of honor, they believed in an eye for an eye. Or, a spouse for a spouse. 
You turned your back on the burial sight and balled your fists up before pressing them against your eyes. Out of sight out of mind. Out of sight out of mind. Out of sight out of mind.
Yoongi wouldn’t, Yoongi couldn’t. He wouldn’t do that to you, he wouldn’t take someone’s spouse from them, he wouldn’t make you feel the same pain that he did.
A rumble pulled you from your panicked thoughts, your breaths still fast and shallow. But what you thought had been the earth shaking, was something far more menacing. Across the clearing stood a wolf, a wolf that was not Yoongi. It was too small to be him and the fur was the wrong color. But the size alone told you that it was clearly a shifter and by the way it was looking at you, you were certain that you were in danger. 
You stood still, hoping that if you didn’t make any sudden movements he wouldn’t be provoked but you were sorely mistaken. You could see its muscles tensing up as it crouched low and shifted its weight back towards its hind legs like it was preparing to lunge. No matter what you did, it had already made its decision to kill you right where you stood. 
You hadn’t realized you were screaming until you felt the raw pain in your throat, your body acting on its own will to survive as you reeled backwards and hastily began to climb up the tree. If you were lucky, it couldn’t climb, but there was still a human inside of that creature - it was smart, you had seen Yoongi hunt you down before, after all. 
You shrieked in fright as you heard the mangy wolf approach, its large paws ripping through the ground as it raced towards you while all you could do was try and climb higher. Unfortunately, you weren’t fast enough. The wolf leaped and its massive teeth tore into your skirt and ripped you from the tree. For a moment, you were completely weightless - you were airborne. And in that brief moment of freedom, you were quickly grounded by reality when you came crashing down to the ground, your forehead just clipping the top of your husband’s headstone as you went rolling down into the grass. 
You knew what would come next. This time, the embrace of death would wrap around you. There was no getting around this. But what confused your shock ridden body even more was the pure dread you felt from the realization that you were going to die. You had once welcomed death, begged for her, prayed for her even, but now when you felt her looming over you you realized that you weren’t ready. 
You missed your husband, but you weren’t ready to join him. 
And, just as you felt the hot breath of the shifter mist over the back of your neck, it was just as quickly ripped away. 
There was a symphony of snarls that followed, the sound of flesh being torn, booming growls, then a pitiful whimper, and a loud snap. And then, all fell quiet. 
You were still dazed as you felt warm arms slip beneath your own, pulling you up into someone’s lap and pressing your body back against an even warmer, bare chest. Long fingers prodded at the warm blood that slid down your temple and a deep, frantic voice echoed in your ears - the words were unintelligible. 
“I told you not to wander off,” Yoongi said, his lips just beside the shell of your ear, the first words he had said that you could finally understand. 
“I told you,” He repeated, his voice wavering and full of emotion as he trailed off. 
You looked at him wearily, your head feeling much heavier than it had earlier. His eyes were wide, his pupils blown. The look on his face could only be described as haunting. He was cradling your face with both hands. His thumb stroked your cheek, but his eyes were trained on the weeping willow. He looked just as shaken as you had been before. 
That sinking feeling was back in your gut. The suspicions you had were coming back to your rattled brain. But still, you turned and wrapped your arms around his neck, collapsing your body against his completely as you felt yourself slipping away. 
He was calling your name, his voice panicked as he held you against him even tighter. You rested your chin on the pale stretch of skin of his shoulder and started back into the treeline. You were finding comfort in the man that you were almost certain was involved in your husband’s death. You were embracing the suspected killer of your husband. 
And in your delirium you caught sight of something out there, something you weren’t sure was even real. It looked like one of the clerics from town, his white robes reflecting the sun as he hastily retreated back into the cover of the trees. 
A bloodied, naked corpse laid where the mangy wolf once stood. 
You found comfort in a killer as a man of god ran away from the sight of the worst sin, murder. 
~~~~~~~
Yoongi’s watchful gaze never left you, even when you thought that you were away from prying eyes. When he said he wanted to protect you, that you were his responsibility, he meant it. 
It wasn’t safe for you to be alone this close to the woods and this far from town. Even though you chose to ignore this, he knew that he was right. He was oftentimes put on edge when he would think about the possibility of someone wandering through the woods and stumbling upon your cottage. And, even worse, he could imagine what someone would do when they found a beautiful woman, alone, in the middle of nowhere with help miles away. His paranoid suspicions had proven to be true with what happened days before. 
“Who was he?” You had asked when you had woken up. 
When you had slipped into unconsciousness he shifted once more, swinging you onto his back and racing back to your cottage. It would have been comical to try and watch his massive wolf form squeeze into your home while dragging your body inside, but in that moment Yoongi had trouble finding anything remotely amusing. He had been too frantic to switch back into his human skin and it took him several moments of concentration before he was able to do it. 
“He was no one,” He plainly said, his brows drawing together as he dabbed at the wound that split open your forehead. 
“You didn’t know him?”
“No,” He sighed, “He was just a nomad, a packless wolf. He must have caught your scent and tracked you down.”
“Was he going to eat me?”
You were met with a sickening silence as Yoongi pursed his lips and bandaged your cut. His silence was a clear answer. 
“But, I’m not an animal. There’s plenty of deer and rabbits…” You trailed off. 
Yoongi set down the roll of gauze and leaned towards you, cradling your face once more in his hands. “Humans and animals are not all that different, you eat, you sleep, you mate, and you both give chase. Many of my kind see yours and animals as one in the same. What only matters is the hunt.” 
Human, shifter, or hunter it didn’t matter, he had grown to trust no one outside of his pack. There were nefarious creatures at every corner, whether he was one of them was still to be decided. His behavior certainly appeared to be nefarious, to an outsider. 
He could hear the thrum of your heart in your chest and the quickening of your pulse as you digested his words. 
“Don’t be afraid of me, I would never hurt you. I just want to take care of you.” He murmured as he leaned in closer to you and pressed his lips to your forehead is a soft kiss that pulled a sharp breath into your chest. 
Since that day, Yoongi’s behavior has drastically changed. 
During the day he worked, far slower than what was normal or necessary, and he watched you fulfill your mundane tasks for the day. While they should have bored him, they did quite the opposite. Everything you did seemed so curious, enthralling even. He couldn’t explain this odd tether he had to you. The only thing that he did know, was that he had to be near you. Whatever this was, it had become far more than just a sense of duty he felt towards you. 
During the night, when the moon emerged, he would shift and watch from the shadows. He would watch you pull your curtain closed and float from room to room. He would sit as still as he possibly could and listen to your heart beat slow and your breathing even out as you fell asleep. He would sit in front of the gaping hole where your door once sat and he would keep watch, pride stirring in his chest as he protected you. 
It was during the night when his daughter would come to visit. Some nights he could hear four paws ripping through the earth as she excitedly ran up to him, other nights he would be greeted by the sound of two little human feet running through the grass. And sometimes, she would morph between the two forms, flickering between the two states like the unsteady wave of a flame. 
But, there was one constant with her. 
“Mama,” She would whisper, crawling on all fours up the steps. 
And every time he would nip her by her clothes and settle her back down in between his massive paws. 
It was a silent “not yet.” 
You were his responsibility, but his daughter wasn’t yours. Not yet at least. 
The three of you had unknowingly settled into a routine. And on the day that the door was finished, that pattern was finally disrupted. 
You had grown accustomed to Yoongi’s presence. If you were being truly honest, you would admit that you had grown to like him. You would never admit it to anyone but his presence had filled that hole in your heart that your husband had left behind. You knew that his saving you had caused this pivot in your emotions and in all honesty you were incredibly confused by them. 
Yoongi was kind and incredibly gentle in spite of how your initial meeting had gone. His voice was soft when he spoke to you, his smile reassuring, and the gentle touches calming. It was hard not to like him, and it was even harder to remember that he wasn’t human. 
But the reminders were there. The odd glow in the depths of his eyes, the wolfish smile, the predatory gaze you had caught sight of whenever he thought you weren’t looking and the looming suspicions you had about his implications in your husband’s untimely death. He was still a wolf, there was no denying that. But you approached it all with the same logic you tended to fall back on: out of sight, out of mind. It was simply easier to not think about it. That, as well as your traitorous feelings for him. 
The clouds came out of nowhere the day the door was finished. 
“No, no, no, no, no!” You cried as you frantically ran outside and towards your clothesline where you had hung all of your linens. 
Yoongi watched you dart in between the fluttering clothes and sheets as the rain slowly began to descend and the wind threatened to whip everything away. 
“Yoongi!” You called. 
The shiver that sent down his spine was strong. That was all it took for you to rattle him, just the mere sound of his name on your lips was world shattering. You didn’t know just how easily you could ruin him. 
“Yoongi, help me!” You called again, your voice stern this time. He thought it was cute when you tried to be in charge. 
There had been a definite shift in your relationship after he had killed that wolf for you. You had started inviting him inside for dinner, watching him work, and even spending the evenings with him outside, leaning up against the warm side of his wolf form. And in turn he would accompany you wherever you needed to go, keeping a close eye on you, and a firm hand on the small of your back. 
You had grown impossibly closer than you had ever thought you would be capable of. Hell, you hadn’t even questioned why he was wearing your husband’s clothes when you woke up - you weren’t even upset. You were beginning to feel alive again. 
The two of your hurriedly gathered the linens. Yoongi had turned it into a game, ripping items off of the line right before you could touch it like it was a race. In all honesty, he made you feel like a kid again. The both of you were laughing, stumbling over the laundry and bumping into each other as you raced inside. 
“You were supposed to help me, not compete with me!” You scolded him, dropping the sopping wet pile of laundry into your basket. 
“I can do both, dearest.”
Dearest. That had been a recent occurrence. It slipped from his lips one day, it had caused your heart to stutter and your blood to rush and ever since then he had not gone a single day without letting the term of endearment grace your ears. He loved seeing how flustered it would make you, the way he practically purred around the word. 
“Or, you could just be kind to me for once.”
“I’m always kind to you, have you not enjoyed the gifts I’ve brought you?” He asked, a faux pout on his pretty lips as he slowly stalked towards you. You could almost see the wolf in him when he did that, you could visualize the swing of his tail and the way his massive head would tip down as his glowing eyes locked in on you. It was there, in the swing of his walk and the taunt muscle of his shoulders. It was an ever present reminder that he was not like you. 
You backed up, almost coyly, as he approached. His broader steps quickly gain on your short, shuffled ones. The cold, spring breeze rushed over the exposed skin of your neck, the open doorway was now behind you. But, before you could rush outside and back into the rain and allow him to give chase, he reached behind you and jerked his arm back. In that instant you felt solid wood press against your back, the new door settling perfectly into the once empty frame and blocking off your exit. 
You let out a shaky breath as he leaned into you, his chest against yours as he raised his arm above your head. With one swift movement there was a click and then his arm settled by your waist and another click followed. He had locked the door behind you. You were trapped in your own home with the wolf. 
The silence that followed was deafening. 
Short breaths were passed between the two of you, both of you waiting for the other to make a move. Your lashes fluttered as your gaze traced the contours of his face. You often wondered if he knew just how lovely he was, scar and all. 
You swallowed harshly as you raised your hand to his face, your fingers trembling with desire before softly grazing the bottom of the scar. Yoongi’s eyes slipped shut as he moved forward allowing his face to lean into your touch, his body pressing impossibly closer to yours. 
“Yoongi,” You whispered. 
And with that one simple call of his name, he lunged and went in for the kill. His pretty lips collided with your own as his hand moved to cradle your jaw and tilt your head back with the force of his kiss. With your back against the door there was nowhere for you to go, but there was nowhere else that you wanted to be. 
You gasped as you felt his free hand slowly trail up your leg and over your hip before settling on your lower back and sharply pulling your hips against his. A pitiful whimper was passed from your lips to his from the sudden desire that was pooling in your lower abdomen. 
A moment of clarity came to you, your mind pushing past the haze of desire when you felt your feet leave the ground. Yoongi buried his face in the junction of your neck and shoulder, his lips and teeth making quick work of the skin there, as he walked. It was when you felt the soft cover of your bed beneath you that you realized what was happening. 
“Yoongi, wait -” You tried, but his movements did not falter. His fingers were making quick work of the laces at the back of your dress and he showed no sign of stopping any time soon. 
He looked desperate, like he was going to die if he could not have you and the only way to relieve himself of his pain was to unveil every inch of skin that you were concealing from him and each stretch that was exposed was just as quickly covered by kisses and nipped by sharp teeth. 
You couldn’t deny the attraction you had for him or the lust you were practically dripping with from his touch. But it felt like you were laying on a bed of needles when you were reminded of your late husband’s death as you were willingly laid down in your marriage bed with a man who was not your husband. 
“Please,” You gasped, gripping his shoulders, “not here.” 
That seemed to catch his attention as he finally stilled himself. From your position it looked like he was trying to gain some control over himself. His breathing was still heavy, but he had stopped touching you. He looked up at you slowly, his chin just barely brushing over your bare sternum. When he finally looked at you, you stopped breathing. His eyes were lit with moonlight, a silver glow emanating from their depths. 
He was more wolf than human in that moment, a creature that was acting purely on instinct. 
You cupped his cheek once more and while he flinched at first, he slowly relaxed beneath your touch. He was still eerily silent, and in that moment his behavior reminded you almost entirely of the first time you had met him when he was in his other skin, fully shifted into his wolf counterpart. It was those watchful eyes again, those eyes that held so much depth and awareness that it was startling. 
“I can’t, not here.” You repeated. 
He blinked slowly, once, twice, and then a third time as he cocked his head to the side. You felt a twinge of fear at that gaze and, shamefully, the rush of lust in your veins. Your body went lax as you allowed him to gather you in his arms once more. He was calmer now, his pace slower as he unlocked the front door and carried you into the night. You could see flickers of your Yoongi in him, his touch much softer as he laid you down in a bed of grass that has been permanently laid flat by the giant wolf that guarded your home. 
That night the sky was completely open, not a single cloud obscured the stars or the body of the full moon. It was utterly beautiful. Just as beautiful as the feeling of fresh dew on your back and just as beautiful as the sight of your breath crystalizing in the cold, spring air. But nothing was quite as beautiful as Yoongi. The way that his bitten lips parted with soft gasps and deep moans, the way that his porcelain skin shone beneath the moonlight, and the way that he struggled to part from your lips. It was the way that he would rather kiss you than breathe. Everything about him was beautiful. 
You had many regrets in your life, but this would never be one of them. Not when he held you like this, like you were the only person in the world that mattered. Everything about this was supposed to be wrong, unholy even, but that was what made it that more enjoyable. That was what made you tense your legs around his waist, curve your hips against his, and wrap your arms around the back of his neck - drawing him towards your pulse point where he had been nosing at, sucking, and kissing almost obsessively. 
When your body shook with pleasure, a rush of warmth and tingles spread beneath your skin, your back arched and your neck was bared. And before you could even realize what was to come, his teeth had already sunk into your neck and shoulder without hesitation accompanied by an almost animalistic growl. The pain was there, it forced a scream past your lips, but it mingled deliciously with the rush of pleasure that emanated from your very core. You gasped and shook, your vision blurring as you were assaulted by your senses, your nails digging into his shoulders. 
There it was again. 
There was a flash of white in the treeline. It was there for a moment before flickering out of sight as you felt yourself barely clinging to consciousness. 
You were being watched again, there was something or someone out there that was following you - watching you in your most vulnerable moments. 
You tried to get Yoongi’s attention but he was in a similar state, the both of you lazily holding onto one another and barely moving as you began to drift. Your lips moved but no words were spoken, your tongue felt heavy in your mouth, unable to form words.
Yoongi’s lips were stained with your blood, his eyes heavy lidded but now returned to their dark color that you knew and loved. You tried again to speak but found yourself unable to as he pressed his forehead against your own, his fingers brushing back your messy hair. 
The heavy lure of sleep was steadily pulling you under. You supposed it could wait until tomorrow. 
Out of sight, out of mind. 
~~~~~~~
When you woke up you were back in your bed and you were alone. 
The cottage was dark, the windows all closed and the curtains drawn tight. When your eyes fluttered open you had almost believed that it was still night, that you were still outside with Yoongi and you had only momentarily dozed off. But the familiar comfort of your blankets and pillows quickly dismissed those thoughts. 
Now wide awake with your sheets pooled around your waist, you could only wonder about where your wolf had gone. Had he left you already? Had he taken your words to heart when you told him that he was to leave when his service was finished? Had he abandoned you after you had shared your most intimate moments with him? What had you done?
You felt a sense of shame wash over you as you stumbled from your bed, dull aches throbbing at various points of your body that only reminded you of what had transpired the night before. Once you collected yourself you made your way to the door your wolf had crafted for you and when you grasped the handle and pulled, you were met with a locked door. 
Your face scrunched in confusion as you turned the lock the opposite way and moved the bar at the top of the door but when you tried it again it still would not budge. 
You had been locked in your own home like a canary in a cage. 
Your heart dropped into your stomach and your throat felt impossibly tight as tears began to brim in your eyes. You had trusted him and in turn he had trapped you. How foolish you were to think that you could trust another man and here you were, a betrayer of your husband’s memory.
You sat on the floor curled up by the foot of your bed with a weak grasp on your blanket around your shoulders. There was an unexpected heartbreak that demanded to be felt in your chest, how could you mourn someone who you never really truly knew? Yoongi wouldn’t even tell you about his family, where he came from, or his people. Your relationship, whatever it was, had been an uneven exchange and you had clung to him so quickly because you had been so lonely. It was unfair. 
You quickly swept away the tears from beneath your eyes when you heard a lock turn and light began to permeate the darkness as the door swung open. He came back. 
The gentle smile he had entered with melted away, a look of concern taking over his face. He crossed the room and you rushed to stand, your arms crossing over your chest to protect and soothe yourself. You flinched away from his touch as he attempted to cup your jaw, the look of hurt and confusion on his face only inspired anger. 
“Why are you crying? What’s wrong?” He asked, trying to bridge the distance between the two of you as he moved closer while you took to stepping around the bed. You needed to keep him away, you couldn’t be swayed by those gentle touches and kind looks. 
“You locked me up, Yoongi. Why would you do that?” You sniffled as you attempted to keep your voice strong and firm. 
“I didn’t lock you up-”
“Then why was the door locked? Why couldn’t I get out?” You asked, before leaning forward and grasping a cord that was strung around his neck and nestled beneath the fabric of his shirt. “Why do you have this?”
When you pulled the necklace out his hand shot out to grip your wrist in warning, but the damage had already been done. There was a key on his necklace, the key to your cage. 
“I’m protecting you.” He whispered, his tone deadly and his gaze dark with warning. “You saw what happened, it’s dangerous out there - I can’t trust anyone with you.”
“No, you can’t trust me,” You corrected him before jerking your hand out of his hold, “This is my home, Yoongi, my home! You have no right!”
“I have every right, you are mine!” 
“I am not!” 
His eyes were burning again, he was having trouble keeping his anger in check and you weren’t helping in the slightest. His chest was heaving with every breath and his jaw was tense. You watched him take one long breath in and then out before his arm shot out as he grabbed you by the wound on your neck forcing a pained gasp from your throat. 
“I told you, I am responsible for you, I need to protect you. This means that you’re mine and that I’m yours, this is a bond that goes deeper than marriage, do you understand that?” 
Your lips trembled as emotion welled in your chest, that told you everything that you needed to know. 
“You killed him, didn’t you?”
The silence you were met with and the empty look in his eyes was more than enough to confirm. Yoongi had been your husband’s killer. You stumbled back and heaved, waving away his hands that tried to steady you as you felt sickness stir in your stomach. 
“How could you? Why? Why did you do it?!” You cried, your fingers shaking as they grazed your lips in pure shock. 
His hands were raised as he tried to step closer to you, it wasn’t a defensive position, it looked more like he was trying to calm a startled animal. 
“He killed my wife,” He said, his voice much gentler than you expected in your state. 
“He wouldn’t!”
“No, but he would kill an animal, wouldn’t he?” 
He stopped approaching you and you had stopped moving away, your body having locked up in a state of pure shock.Your silence was enough for him to continue. 
“By the time I got there he was already taking her pelt, she wasn’t even able to shift back.”
He had skinned her. He didn’t know there was a person inside of the wolf that he had killed, and he had skinned her. 
“I took what was owed to me, he killed her so I killed him and I don’t regret it. The only thing I regret is what that did to you and your child, and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. But I tried my best to give back to you what was taken. I can protect you, I can take care of you, I can give you children, and I can love you.”
His pupils were blown out, there was a look of pure desperation in his eyes. It was a look that made your heart shudder in your chest. 
There was a horrible ache in behind your ribs, it felt like it was on the verge of collapsing. It was undeniable that you cared for him, but the sickness that churned in your stomach was rivaling those feelings. You had never felt so betrayed before by anyone. You thought that he would have been different. 
You couldn’t even bear the thought of looking at him in the moment, it hurt too much and you knew how powerful those eyes of his were. You refused to be swayed at that moment. 
You knew that no amount of words you could say would force him to leave, so you did the next best thing and sprinted for the door. You barely made it a few steps before he lunged and grabbed you by your waist, picking you up with ease as you writhed in his hold. You turned into a feral animal, throwing yourself around wildly and scratching at any available skin you could find as you cried in shrill screams. 
“Stop fighting me!” He grunted, throwing you down on the mattress and pinning your wrists down at your sides as he pressed his knees into your kicking legs. “Calm down.” 
A scream of frustration burned your throat as your muscles strained under his firm grip. There was no use in fighting him, he was far stronger than you could ever hope to be. And so your body eventually tired itself out, your limbs going limp as you shook from a mixture of fatigue, fright, and dimming embers of anger. The skin beneath your eyes felt tight from all the crying you had done and the skin around your nails throbbed from the scratches you had carved into Yoongi’s forearms. But of course, those flesh wounds had already healed. 
You flinched as he released one of your wrists and stroked your face, indirectly drying your cheeks of their lingering tears. 
“You’re scared, now. Confused. But that’s alright, you’ll learn that I am the only one who can take care of you.”
You stayed silent and stubbornly turned your head to the side when he leant in to kiss you, but your actions did not deter him, he only laid a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth with a contented hum. 
“I’ll prove it to you, I can give you everything that you want.” He whispered beside your ear before he finally stood and the blood rushed back to your arms and legs. 
You scuttled backwards up the bed as he gave you one last lingering gaze and then he slipped out of the cottage and locked the door shut behind him. 
He had trapped you once again. 
~~~~~~~
You had laid there for a long time, frozen after what had transpired. Everything you thought that you knew has been completely and utterly wrong. It had all been a lie.
You slowly sat up and slid your palms into your lap. Your nails were stained with dark blood, you had hurt Yoongi afterall, not that it had mattered. To him, it had probably been no more irritating than a kitten’s scratch. You were once again reminded of his incredible inhuman nature.  
You needed to leave, now was your chance to escape him. It was an odd feeling that stirred in the back of your mind. The night before, there was nowhere else that you would rather be, and now you wanted to get as far away as possible. You wanted to run. 
With that thought in your mind you lept to your feet and made for the window. You knew that Yoongi would be able to find you, tracking you would be more of a game than a challenge. But if you left now, you would give yourself a head start. You would make for town and when you entered its boundaries it would be too risky for him to come after you. He wouldn’t be able to get you in either skin, the hulking form of that wolf far too obvious and the flesh of his human skin far too vulnerable when outnumbered. 
You pried open the shutters and undid the latch. You hiked up the skirt of your night dress, baring your skin to the cool breeze, and swung your legs out of the window and allowed your body to drop down. You needed to go, there was no more time for hesitation. 
Your dress was held tight in each fist as you began to run, the light fabric brushing over your legs as you moved. In that moment you had wished for a pair of shears to shorten it. 
A pitched howl echoed through the trees and your heart thrummed even harder in your chest. Your limbs froze on instinct and your ears rang with the sound of your blood rushing. It was too high of a tone to be him, you had heard the sounds he had made when he tore that other shifter to shreds. It wasn’t him but it was someone else. 
A small, dark, furry form shot out from the cover of the trees and darted through the clearing. Its pace was sure yet frantic, like it still didn't have control of its four limbs nor its speed. As it came closer you began to take cautious steps backward. You knew who that was, it was the pup. 
You watched in horror as the creature’s gait became wild and the pup began to trip over itself before the fur exploded from its skin and in its place was a little girl sprinting through the grass. 
There was no denying the impossibility of what you had seen, after all you had seen it with your own eyes. There was no forgetting this. 
“Mama!” She cried as she collided with your legs and displayed an impressive strength that was disproportionate to the size of her body, sending the both of you to the ground. The world turned sideways for a moment, and there it was once more. That flash of white that you had been seeing for weeks now. But it was closer this time, close enough that you recognized what it was. From the shape of the clothes on the fleeing form, you knew it was one of the clerics from the town. Has he been watching you all this time? 
“I missed you, mama,” She said, pulling your attention to her as she stared down at you with a pair of dark brown eyes that sent chills through your veins. She looked so much like her father. 
“Binna,” His voice shot through the air, “Remember what I said? Be gentle, you don’t want to hurt your mother.”
“Sorry!” She giggled as she pressed her cheek against your collarbone, her eyes fluttering shut and her long lashes casting shadows over the skin beneath her eyes. She wrapped her arms around your neck and hummed, the warmth from her body seeping into your skin. 
“Sorry, mama.” She repeated. 
You gently laid your hand over her back, your breaths still uneven as you pulled the two of you into a sitting position. “Sweetheart, I’m not your-“
“Binna, do you want to go see your room?” Yoongi asked, dropping down into a squat behind his daughter, his eyes on you as he spoke. 
Binna let out an excited hum of agreement, scrambling up onto two legs that still wobbled unsurely beneath her weight. You noticed that she was never completely stable in either skin she wore, it was like she was still trying to figure out how four legs and two legs worked. 
“Come on, dearest,” He said, holding his hand out to you. You sat there for a moment, stubbornly, but his gaze was unwavering and his body was as still as a statue. You knew there was no fighting him and he had played dirty by bringing his daughter into the equation. He knew that you wouldn’t want to start anything in front of her, the last thing that you wanted to do was frighten her. 
You let out an angry huff and rushed to stand without his help, storming past him and walking a few paces behind his small daughter who would toddle every now and then before bending over and trying to walk on all fours instead. 
As frustrated, frightened, and irritated as you were, you couldn’t deny the tug at your heart when you watched Binna crawl up the front steps of your home and scamper inside. You could hear the sound of her bare feet tapping against the wood floors and you couldn’t stop the resulting burn in your eyes. You had always wanted to hear that sound, you had always wanted a daughter of your own. 
But Binna wasn’t yours. 
But it was hard to long for that when you watched her disappear into the once empty nursery. You didn’t like what Yoongi was doing, he was messing with your head. He knew how badly you had wanted your child, how you had tirelessly grieved your husband, and now he was trying to patch everything together and force your lives to fit with one another. 
You knew that he could understand your loss, he had lost a wife after all. He would do anything to avoid that happening again, and if that meant locking you up while he was gone, then he would do that. But that wasn’t what you wanted. You had locked yourself up for months on end, turning your home into a mausoleum as you grieved the loss of the life you had once had. You refused to do that again. 
The door shut and the lock clicked. 
You heard him approach and then you felt his warmth as your back and his breath disturb the hair on your head. It wasn’t all that different from the first time that you had met. 
His fingers grazed your own and your hand twitched in response but you didn’t move. He intertwined your hands and pressed his forehead against the back of your head, breathing in your scent. 
“You have to let me go, Yoongi.” You whispered. 
He froze and a low, warning growl thrummed in his chest causing the hair on the back of your neck to raise. It didn’t matter what skin he was in, your body recognized him as the predator that he was. 
“No.” He simply said. 
“You’re not being fair -”
“I’ve been nothing but fair. I broke your door so I fixed it, I killed your husband and I gave you myself, you lost your child and I gave you Binna. I have been more than fair, so much so that I even gave you my love when you did not want it.” 
You ignored that last part, the love you felt for him causing a stabbing pain of betrayal in your heart. It wasn’t fair that you still felt the way you did about him after everything that he had done. After he had tricked you. 
“I am not Binna’s mother.”
He quickly hushed you, spinning you around by your shoulders and staring into your eyes, “She can hear you, she has very sensitive ears and a gentle heart, you don’t want to hurt her do you?”
You bit your lip in frustration, “It’s not fair to her mother.”
“You are her mother.” 
And that conversation was over, he wouldn’t hear any of your protests and you feared hurting Binna too much to continue to broach the subject. You were caught in between a rock and a hard place. And the worst thing was that it was hard not to love Binna. 
She was curious, mischievous, and sweet. She had been the same way when you discovered her as a pup, but you adored her even more this way. All she wanted was your attention, she was a little girl that was desperate to be loved by a mother. 
“Why did you leave?” She stumbled over the words, her little fingers twisted in the fabric of your skirt as you had started dinner, the light of the sunset cast over her eyes and bursts of silver shined in their reflection. 
You didn’t know how to respond. 
“Mama’s back now, you don’t have to worry about that baby.” Yoongi answered for you with a gentle smile as he pulled her onto his lap. 
“Forever?” She asked, staring at him with wide eyes full of wonder that only a child could possess.
“Forever,” He repeated, his eyes tracing over the profile of your face. 
The questions didn’t stop there. It was a full moon that night and Binna demanded to be outside. Yoongi had briefly told you before about their connection with the moon. It was almost religious, but even that wasn’t a good comparison. It was a part of them. 
“Shift.” Binna had commanded, tugging at your skirt again as she had quickly grown accustomed to. 
“I can’t Binna,” You explained, lowering yourself into the grass so that you were more level with her height. “I’m not like you, or your daddy.” 
Yoongi had stayed close to you all day, keeping a watchful eye on you to make sure that you wouldn’t try to leave them. 
“But…” She said, her words trailing off as her face furrowed in confusion, “It was white.”
You were confused but a quick look at Yoongi cleared that up. His gaze was glassy like he was remembering something, something that he didn’t want to think about. Binna must have meant her mother, she must have seen her before she left. Her pelt must have been white. 
Yoongi cleared his throat after a moment, “I think it’s time for bed.” 
Binna, even though she was a shifter, was still a child. She whined in protest and went limp as Yoongi scooped her up in his arms and held onto your hand, guiding the two of you back into the house. 
The door shut, the lock clicked. 
The both of you cleaned Binna up together, her feet and hands dirty from struggling to crawl in her human form and her hair a mess of twigs and leaves. She had laughed as she watched the pile of leaves grow beside the basin and attempted to jump into it like it were a much bigger leaf pile than it really was. 
And when she was clean, fed, and tired, she crawled into the center of the bed and reached her arms out for you. Your heart ached again. As soon as you laid down she was curled into your side, her little arms curled into her chest as she pressed her nose against the bite mark on your shoulder, taking in deep breaths.
The lamps in the room were snuffed out one by one, the room becoming progressively darker until it was completely plunged in darkness and only the gleam of silver eyes at the foot of the bed were visible. The bed dipped beneath Yoongi’s weight as he climbed in, laying on the other side of the bed behind his daughter. When he laid down he rolled over, wrapping his arm around the two of you and pulling you in closer to him. 
Binna hummed a happy noise, burrowing deeper into your shoulder and burying herself beneath your blankets. 
“What is she doing?” You asked, the first time you had spoken a direct question to Yoongi since that morning. 
“You smell like me, it’s how we identify each other. She feels safe with you.” He explained. 
“So that’s why you did it.” You said, a bitter edge to your words as you smoothed your hand over Binna’s freshly washed hair. “She doesn’t know any better.”
“That’s not true. She chose you, and so did I. She knew you were safe, that’s why she let you take her that day. And this,” His fingers ghosted over the mark sending chills down your spine, “was purely for my own selfish benefit. I wanted everyone to know that you’re mine.” 
“You didn’t even give me the choice.”
“I love you, and I know that you love me.” 
You remained quiet, not willing to agree or disagree with him. It was hard to make sense of madness, whether that be Yoongi’s or your own. 
“You’ll see it eventually, this is what you wanted.”
~~~~~~~
When you woke the next morning, you immediately knew that something was wrong. 
Firstly, Yoongi was gone. The spot on the bed that used to be your husband’s was cold, he had been gone for a while. Secondly, Binna was curled into the corner of the room, hiding beneath a blanket as she shook. And when you looked closer, you could see the tip of a snout and a still tail peeking out from beneath the blanket. She was frightened. Thirdly, there was smoke in the air, something was burning. 
You stumbled out of bed when there was a pounding on the door. 
“Open the door!” A man yelled, the door knob shaking as he tried to open it himself. Your instincts were screaming at you that something was wrong. 
“Open up, and pay for your crimes!” He yelled again, this time throwing his weight against the door. 
That couldn’t be right? Crimes?
You crept closer to the front window, the wood shutters were pulled shut but there was a crack that you had peered through, unnoticed, many times before. This time, the sight that you were met with was horrific. There was a large, angry crowd with torches outside - illuminating the pitch black field around your home. 
You had heard of these events before, but never had you considered that you would become the victim of one, not when you were so isolated from the town. But it was happening now and you needed to act fast. 
You rushed to the corner where Binna hid and scooped her up into your arms blanket and all. Her snout sniffed at your bite wound before she began to settle down. You ran to the nursery and to the very back of the room where the crib sat. You gripped it with one hand and with a strength you didn’t know that you possessed you pulled it aside. Your heart pounded and your breath was coming in harsh pants as you moved to the window. 
“Binna,” You whispered, forcing yourself to make your voice as soft and soothing as you could. You had one priority right now and that was to get her safe. You had seen what those hunters were capable of before. “I need you to run as fast as you can, and I need you to find your daddy. Don’t stop running until you're safe, don’t stop no matter what you hear.”
Binna stared back at you, her ears perked up as her glossy silver eyes poured into your very soul. Binna was a little girl, but she was smarter than any human child. You trusted her. 
A loud thwack sounded from the front door, a sound that you weren’t all that unfamiliar with - it was the sound of an ax striking the door. Your motions became faster and more panicked than before, your nails ripping at the bottom of the window that groaned as you forced it open. You grunted and with one more hard push, it popped and raised and there was enough room that Binna could slide through. 
“Don’t stop running, be very brave.” You whispered before pressing a quick kiss to the space between her ears and lowering her as close to the ground as you could. And then, her body left your hand and her dark fur disappeared into the night. You could only hope that she could find help on time. 
You had a terrible feeling that you weren’t going to make it out of this. 
A loud crack and sharp splintering sounded from the front door and then the thud of boots entered the kitchen. You stayed as quiet as you could but you knew there was no hiding and you needed to buy Binna time. 
You slid an oil lamp off of the dresser and hid by the door, waiting for it to open. The boots approached quickly, they didn’t want to give you time to get away and they were hunting you down. This was nothing like the way Yoongi had hunted you, it was un-practiced, frantic, amateur. 
When the door to the nursery slammed open you brought the lamp down on the back of the man’s head and sent him crashing to the ground as blood pooled onto the wood. But when you darted out into the hallway, there was already someone else waiting for you. 
You swung the lamp towards him with a scream but he dodged, grabbing your wrists and bending them in such a way that a sharp scream echoed through the cottage as you lost your grip and the lamp shattered upon impact with the ground. 
The man from the nursery was up and moving and now he was behind you, pulling rope from his belt. 
“You fucking bitch!” He yelled, and before you could move he had punched you clean across your face, sending you sprawling on the ground. 
You could taste blood in your mouth as he straddled you from behind, wrapping the rope around your hands. 
“Get off of me!” You screamed, wriggling desperately but to no avail. All it earned you was another strike to your head that made your vision blurry and spotted. 
When you came to, you were being dragged out of your house. The door that Yoongi had painstakingly crafted was shattered. 
And, as soon as the three of you were outside, torches were thrown and the house was lit aflame. 
“No!” You screamed, guttural sounds that ripped through your throat. “No, no, no!”
Your husband had built that house. It was the only thing that you had left of him. It was yours, it was where you were supposed to make a family and grow old together. And now that dream, that life, was being burned to the ground. 
It was absolute chaos. 
The smell of smoke burned in your nose and made your eyes tear up on reflex. When you had thought of all the ways that you could possibly die, you had never considered this as an option. You wriggled violently in your bonds like a wild animal trapped in a snare. The rope was digging into your wrists leaving behind raw, bloody wounds. There was no escape, but you couldn’t help but try. If you didn’t free yourself, then this would be it. 
There had been a time where you craved nothing more than to be reunited with your deceased lover, but when faced with the frightening reality of death you wanted nothing more than to live. 
Violent, raw screams tore through your throat as you were held down to the ground. There were hands everywhere, gripping your shoulders, your legs, and one in particular that was knotted in your hair. 
“Silence, witch!” A man yelled, pressing down on your neck and forcing your face into the dirt. 
“Witch? Witch?!” You shrieked, another manic scream breaking up your words as you writhed against the ground. 
You could hear the murmurs of the crowd that surrounded you and with a strained eye you could see nearly the entire town gathered around you and the men that held you captive. It was clear what this was, but you didn’t want to believe it. You didn’t want to believe that your own kind would turn on you like this. But that seemed to be your plight, those you tried to trust always turned out to be a wolf in sheep’s clothing. 
The hand that was wound in your hair tightened its grasp spurring a pained gasp from you as they began to drag you. You could only desperately writhe in the dirt as you were pulled closer to the crowd. You were certainly a sight, your hair a deranged mess, filled with leaves and twigs with dirt smeared down your cheeks and staining the tips of your fingers. Their rough treatment of you had only served to make you appear as the very thing they feared. The thing they were accusing you of being. 
You finally came to a stop in front of the town elder, the men behind you forcing you into an upright position on your knees, your arms still painfully stretched behind your back. 
The elder looked at you in what could only be described as disgust. 
“Behold, the witch who has brought a curse upon our village,” He spoke, his voice raspy and low, causing silence to descend over the group in order to hear him. 
“I am no witch-“
“Quiet!” The man behind you yelled before delivering a harsh smack to the side of your head, forcing it to snap to the side as you cried in pain. 
“The accused has brought death to all of your doors. She who murdered her unborn child in a covenant with the devil and brought those beasts to our home, and she who slayed her husband to feed those wretched demons and seal their bond to her will continue to slaughter us where we stand. What say you, shall we stand by and allow this to happen?” The elder said, opening his arms to the crowd who voiced their agreement.
This was the man who had known you since you were a child, the very man who had approved your courtship with your husband, the same man that married the both of you. This was the man that would ultimately kill you. 
Yoongi was right, humans were horrible creatures.
Your body had gone limp, your head rolling forward as if your neck could no longer bear the weight of it. Desperate, wounded cries burst from your lips. You had not killed your baby, you had not killed your husband, but there was nothing you could say to change their minds. They had already made their decision. 
“The punishment for these crimes shall be paid by that of which you are familiar,” The elder said, gesturing to a horrifying sight looming behind him, “Hellfire.” 
You couldn’t hear the screams that burned your throat, you could only feel them. There was a loud ringing in your ears and the feeling of your feet and shoulders digging into the ground as you were dragged toward the stake and unlit pyre before you. 
They were going to burn you alive. 
Your cries for help were left unanswered, there was not a single look of empathy on anyone in the crowd. He had truly convinced them all that the deaths that had plagued the town were because of you. They believed you were the one that had brought the shifters upon them even though that didn’t make sense, they had been there long before you and longer than they realized. But there was no getting through to them. What the elder spoke was considered divine nature.
You sounded like a wounded animal, horrific sobs and screams shaking your body as you were tied to the stake. Nausea swirled in your stomach and your heart pounded, the fear that you felt was indescribable. 
Vaguely, you understood that you were mumbling something repeatedly under your breath which was not helping your perception with the crowd. It looked like you were trying to cast a curse upon them. And if you could, you would. 
But what you were saying was far from that. All you could brokenly whisper was, “I did not kill my baby.” 
The scent of smoke became even stronger and from in between layers of your hair, you could see a torch flickering. The flames wavered, almost teasingly in nature, like it was deciding whether or not it would engulf you in its fiery embrace. Ultimately, that would not be its decision. 
“Return from whence you came, witch,” The man before you spoke, and with the crook of the elder’s finger, he lit the pyre.
Heat licked at your feet and ankles as the fire slowly but surely crept up the logs and branches piled around you. This would be a long, slow, tortuous end to your life and that was what they wanted. They wanted to put all of their rage, pain, and hatred onto you and they would make certain you experienced the full extent of their wrath. 
Tears rolled down your cheeks as you accepted your fate. You cried as you watched the flames lap at the edges of your skirt - eating away at the hem. In a matter of seconds it would eat the fabric away and begin charing flesh and bone. 
But it was when you lost all hope, that fate decided to play yet another trick on you. 
Frantic cries were coming from the crowd and when you raised your head you were shocked by the sight of six massive wolves emerging from the trees. It took no time for you to realize that they were just like Yoongi. Binna had made it back to them, she had gotten them to come and help you and thankfully she was nowhere in sight. 
The crowd pressed in closer to the elder, who’s face had gone gray at the sight of the wolves, as the six shifters surrounded them, corralling them all into one place. 
In the midst of the madness, you hadn’t noticed the presence behind you until you felt your ropes loosening. 
It was Yoongi. 
The fire was searing both of your clothes yet he remained, slicing through your bonds with deft hands. He had come for you, he had saved you. 
The moment your bonds slid from your hands he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you from the stake and pyre, the two of you sinking down to the ground in each other’s embrace. 
“Yoongi,” You choked, your lungs thick with smoke and ash. 
“Shh,” he hushed you, “just breathe, breathe for me sweetheart, just like that.” 
His hand came to rest on your chest while he guided yours to his, taking in exaggerated breaths so that you could follow him. 
Yoongi was many things: your husband's killer, your captor, your protector, and lastly - your savior. It was impossible for you to describe what you felt for him as it was no longer black and white. If there was anything you did believe, it was that nothing was ever that simple. There are many truths and many lies, it all was dependent on what you wanted to believe. 
You coughed again, the force of it shaking your entire body as Yoongi pulled you into himself tighter. You were in his lap, chest to chest, with his nose buried in your hair. You could feel him breathing in your scent, a growl radiating through his chest when he realized it had been tainted by smoke and other men. 
“I thought I lost you too,” he sighed before pressing a desperate kiss to your temple and then your cheek. He treated you like you were the most precious thing in the world. 
“Help us!” That raspy voice called out to you again. 
You slowly turned your head to face the elder who had placed himself in the middle of the crowd, using the bodies of his people to shield him from the wolves that were steadily circling them.
Help them. 
Help them? 
Help them?!
You cocked your head to the side, a look of bewilderment and rage taking over your features. Why should you help them? After what they had done to you? After what they had accused you of? 
Humans were horrible. You didn’t need them, after all, you much preferred to be alone. 
You didn’t need other humans. 
“Yoongi?” You whispered, maintaining eye contact with the elder. 
“Yes?” He leaned forward, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. 
“Kill them all.”
You felt his warm finger trace the curve of your jaw before turning your face in his direction. He looked down at you in a mix of adoration and excitement before leaning in and pressing his lips against yours in a hard kiss. 
“As you wish,” He murmured before setting you down on the ground and joining his brothers. 
In a matter of seconds he burst free from his skin, a giant wolf in his place alongside the tattered remains of his clothes. The crowd screamed in fright from the sight of his transformation and then from the massive fangs of seven wolves. 
You sat there, knees drawn into your chest as you watched Yoongi carve his way through the crowd and toward the elder. And, with great ease, he forced the man to the ground and ripped his head clean from his shoulders. A large spurt of blood soared through the smoggy air, painting the grass a vibrant color. 
You watched on as several more people were felled by the shifters, their gruesome screams quieted by large jaws and hooked claws. 
You were numb, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care about their lives that were swiftly ended - their souls ripped from their bodies.
You craned your neck back and stared up at the full moon, eyes dull, red, and finally dry as more gurgled screams were silenced. 
Out of sight, out of mind. 
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min-hoax · 3 months
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Afterlife - PJM • SNEAKPEAK
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Pairing: Yandere! Jimin x F! Reader
Warning(s): Mentions of disappearance/kidnapping,
A/N: Thought I’d give you guys in insight of the AU I’ve been wanting to write. It’s not completely finished and tbh I’m not sure where I’m going with it- I’m leaning more towards a Supernatural/Mythical route, but if anyone has any thoughts, I’d be honored to hear them!! Let me know down below or in my inbox.
-
The house sits behind a lake - off the beaten path, encompassed with trees to its back, the forest eerie, but yet serene.
It wasn’t what they expected: cared for, the lawn beautifully mowed with a growing garden, the home like any other middle class refuge.
With just two knocks the door was unlocked and opened, and through your picture on the tabloids, they immediately understood who the man standing before them was.
“Min Yoongi?” The man questions, a bit older than his companion, with broad shoulders and round eyeglasses framing his face.
“The writers, I assume?” When they nodded, Yoongi stepped aside. “Come in. Can I get you anything? Water, tea, coffee?” He asked, gesturing to the navy blue velvet couch. “Please, sit.”
“Uh, no sir.” The man continued, glaring at the younger boy next to him when his brother discreetly smacked his arm, annoyed that he’d decline free food.
“As we said over the phone, I’m Seokjin and this is Jungkook.” Jungkook smiled, waving at the man, “We’re with Faraday University, hoping to write about your niece’s disappearance.”
Yoongis’ eyes drifted down to the hardwood floor, despondency crystal clear before he painfully smiled and sighed. “Well, I’m glad. Ever since her case turned two, it seemed like the cops around here couldn’t care less.”
“Cops - “ Jungkook started, “they’re good for nothing. Trust me. We know.”
Jin cocked his brow at his brother, disappointed yet again at his words. He fumbled with his jacket, fishing out a voice recorder from the inside. “Do you mind if I record this? I just don’t want to miss anything on the paper.”
Yoongi shook his head. “Of course not.”
With a click of a button the recorder beeped, gently laid on the wooden coffee table before them. Seokjin cleared his throat, adjusting his bottom on the comfortable couch.
“Sir, we were told that you insisted the police look into a… Park Jimin? Is that correct?”
At the mention of said man’s name, he bit his lower lip, immediately nodding.
“Why is that?”
“Because I know he did it. He took my niece. Of course, nobody believes me because I have no proof whatsoever. He made sure of that.”
Jungkook raised his brow with pursed lips, gaze narrowed and focused on Yoongi. “How did your niece meet this man?”
“Church.” He replied. “He came in with his brother suddenly, sat a few pews behind us. I remember, she turned around and smiled at them both. They were nobody’s in our town, came in from Busan - I don’t really remember.”
“And after that, did they cross paths, speak?”
Yoongi nodded. “Yeah. After the service they approached and introduced themselves as Jimin and Namjoon, said they were visiting relatives that lived nearby, but it was soon determined that they didn’t. They supposedly grew around here, in an orphanage that burned years ago.”
The writers cocked their eyebrows, “Orphanage? So they're not really related?”
“I assume not, no. I tried to do my own research even when everyone told me to leave it to the authorities, until I found something that I… that I wish I hadn’t. I guess they were right. I’m not one to believe in such things, but when you grow up with a grandmother who believes in… such things, you start to realize that maybe she’s not as crazy as you thought she was.”
“What did you find?”
Yoongi sighed, “You won’t believe me.”
Jin looked at his younger brother who eyed him before looking back at Yoongi. “Try us.”
“Well, there was a groundskeeper that I approached, asked him if he knew who Park Jimin was. He - he seemed afraid. Told me that if I knew any better I’d stay away from ever trying to find him.”
“Why?”
“Because he believes Park Jimin isn’t human. He’s a fallen angel. The literal devil incarnate. And if I wanted to keep my life, I’d stay away - we’d stay away.”
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desiredfang · 1 year
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❧ Obsessed With U
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genre -> yandere
pairing -> skz hyunjin x reader
warnings -> kidnapping, stalking,
word count -> 0.2k
summary -> Hyunjin knows how to make you talk
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You could hear someone walking upstairs. Their footsteps sounded like they were pacing, over and over. Likely, it was the person who brought you here. Lost in thought, you didn’t hear the footsteps go down the stair and the basement door open.
“Oh. You’re awake.” You jump at the voice. It wasn’t familiar in any sort of way. You don’t respond, just stare at your captor. He doesn’t seem to care though. He looks excited when he realizes that you’re looking at him.
“My names Hyunjin.” He refuses to tear his eyes away from you. “You might be wondering why you’re here with me but don’t worry, it’s ok.” He knows it’s not ok to keep someone in his basement. He just doesn’t care. Especially when it means that he has you within arms reach.
“Still not going to talk huh? What if I show you this?”Hyunjin pulls out a book. Walking towards you, he sits right next to you and hands you the book.
“I made a scrapbook! It’s mostly pictures of you but we can always take some more!” You feel like you’re going to throw up. There’s pictures of you sleeping, eating with friends, studying and so much more.
Hyunjin watches as your eyes widen and he smiles when you glance over at him.
“Don’t worry sweetheart. We still have plenty of time to make some memories together.”
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sleepchapter · 11 months
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soobin yandere prompts 3 and 5
“no babe, you aren’t weak — i should just be the one protecting you, okay?”
“leaving isn’t an option.”
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soobin was your boyfriend. he still considered you two to be dating, but you had wanted nothing to do with him anymore. he just lost it one day. he invited you to his home, everything was going fine up until when you got up to leave he blocked the door and wouldn’t allow you to go back home. he said he was doing it all to protect you and that he loved you, but how could you continue to love someone that could do this to you?
for the most part he just kept you locked in his room. you were only allowed to leave to go to the bathroom, and although he had a window, he blocked it off awhile ago. how had nobody gotten suspicious? he had neighbors, had they never heard your screams? did they not find it weird that all of a sudden his bedroom window was boarded up? were you even in the news? was anyone looking for you..? all of these thoughts caused tears to stream down your face and you move your knees to your chest while sitting on his bed. a few minutes later the door could be heard opening and then you heard it lock a few seconds later. you look up to see soobin standing by the door staring at you. he had a sad look on his face, and deep in his eyes you could see a sense of guilt after he saw your tears.
“hi babe..”
you don’t respond and just look away. he sits on the edge of the bed still glancing at you. obviously he was feeling uncomfortable from the amount of guilt in his body. you could tell he wanted to reach out to you but didn’t dare to. it was moments like this that would be best to try to leave. if you pulled at his heartstrings good enough, maybe he’d let you go. it’d be a lot easier to manipulate him and guilt him even more so he’d let you go. if he felt guilty from a few tears streaming down your face, then any words you said to him had to make him feel at least a little worse. you soon decide to look him in the eyes so he could see the damage he’d down so he’d feel worse and before he could turn away again you spoke up.
“i want to go home..you say you love me, but if you did you’d trust me.”
you stop for a second knowing you had his attention. he was about to speak up but then you decide to continue,
“do you think i’m to weak to take care of myself? you don’t think i’m capable of looking after myself?”
that seemed to garner his attention even more. his eyes widened a little and was genuinely surprised by your words. he scoots slightly closer and his face drops once again.
“no babe, you aren’t weak — i should just be the one protecting you, okay?”
you don’t respond and only sniffle and wipe the more tears rubbing down your face. they were tears of sadness, hurt, and anger. once again, it hurt more because you were dating him, and you were happy with him, so why’d he have to ruin it all by kidnapping you? you offer him a look of anger and speak up once again.
“you ruined anything we had soobin, i want nothing to do with you ! i want to go home!”
it looks as if you struck a nerve with him for a second and he sits there silent for a while. then his face has a more determined and slightly angry look. he looks you directly in the eyes and speaks up.
“leaving isn’t an option.”
he gets up before the conversation can continue any deeper and before you actually start to get to him. he goes to unlock the door but before he opens it he says something whilst staring at the ground.
“i know you still love me deep down, love doesn’t just disappear….”
he continues,
“but if it’s true, you’ll love me again. we’ll get passed this, we’ll be okay…”
he seemed to be saying that last bit to himself rather than to you. he was trying to convince himself that all of this was fine, but you both knew it wasn’t. he leaves the room, and you hear the door lock as his footsteps grow farther. this isn’t love, and if you can get him to see that, if you can exploit the bits of guilt he already feels, then you might be able to leave this place. things between the two of you would never be okay, but you’d be okay. you’d get out of here and you would be okay.
179 notes · View notes
blackswan446 · 3 months
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CORRUPTED || introduction
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in which the veil of innocence is lifted and those unsuspecting souls succumb to the darkness that is corruption.
one || two || three || four || five || six || seven || eight || nine || ten || eleven || twelve || thirteen || epilogue
⚠️trigger warnings / mentions of⚠️
- suicide
- blood
- swearing
- kidnapping
- death
word count: 14,031
blackswan446 2024
i hope you enjoy ♡ remember to like, reblog, and comment if you like it!
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laughing-with-god · 7 months
Text
These Things Take Time (Yandere! Supernatural! Taehyung x Reader)
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Synopsis: There's something wrong with your boyfriend Taehyung. At least, you think it's him.
16.5k
Trigger warnings: yandere behavior, psychological gaslighting, violence, gore, some heavy making out, strong language, AFAB reader (she/her) I'm sure I'm missing some but you know me and what I write lol
Authors note: just a real quick thank you to @bigbuffjoonie and @mustardpop for having beta read and brainstormed with me literally a year ago about this fic that I never published until now.
-----
He passionately thrusted her against the wall, mouthing at her neck while muttering disgusting things that he was going to do to her.
It was foul…
It was taboo…
It was…..
Your fingers paused and hovered over the keyboard, the constant clicking of your writing coming to a sudden halt.
Your eyes scanned the last few lines, lips instinctively mouthing the words and checking the overall flow of the plot.
Your two main characters were about to fuck each other’s brains out after a long ‘will they or won’t they’ that spanned well over a dozen chapters.
There should be a feeling of torture, a feeling of relief, a feeling of frenzied lust that just couldn’t contain itself anymore and combusted within the contents of these pages.
That is what you desperately wanted your loyal readers to experience when they get to this scene.
Yet when reading the long-awaited buildup, you felt nothing.
You cared for every character you created like a mother does their child, them getting their happy endings was just as important to you as it was to them. So why did you feel so numb and dissociated from everything you’ve been typing the past hour?
You released a disillusioned sigh and leaned back into your chair. Your eyes stung from staring at a screen for so long and your limbs ached to be stretched with hours of immobility.
Writer’s block was a bitch.
Unlike other skills, writing was one of the few expertise that working harder at it won’t guarantee a better outcome. You could type away until your fingers were bruised and bloody, but it doesn’t mean anything you wrote would be worth shit. Writing was a talent and it came and went as it pleased. And right now it was gone.
Which left you very depressed and your editor very pissed.
You gave up the fight and reluctantly closed your laptop. Then stood to your full height, to give your back a much-needed stretch.
‘I tried today. And that’s okay. I’ll try again tomorrow.’ You thought to yourself, half heartedly taking your therapist’s advice to acknowledge your efforts and not just the outcomes.
When in a creative slump, it has been said that reading other works can be a source of inspiration. Can’t be a good writer yourself, then go out and read a good writer. With this thought in mind, you slowly exited your office and descended down the stairs.
Last week your mom sent you a book she recommended, and you’ve been so busy trying to finish your own novel that you just tossed it somewhere and haven’t touched or looked for it since. Though, you were almost certain you caught sight of it on the coffee table yesterday.
When you stepped into the living room, you spotted a familiar figure standing by the large bay window.
The sight tugged a small fond smile onto your face.
Taehyung was your boyfriend of six months.
He was strikingly attractive, tall, kind and clearly didn’t know his own worth because not only was he dating you, but he also agreed to move into this secluded farmhouse while you tried to finish your book. He assured that he could use this time and space to focus on his paintings as well, but you knew deep down he just didn’t want to leave you alone out in the middle of nowhere.
Right now only his profile was facing you, his alluring feline eyes staring at the raining scene outside, dark brows furrowed in heavy thought. He looked to be biting on his lower lip, a habit you’ve never seen before, but you supposed you two have only been dating for a few months so there was probably a whole world of little quirks you didn’t know of yet.
The scene was a bit intense, as you weren’t used to your usually cheerful boyfriend looking so ponderous. Yet you shrugged it off and just assumed he was most likely brainstorming his next painting. Taehyung was your first artist boyfriend and your friends did warn you that they could be a bit dramatic.
You quickly surveyed the room and indeed located the book on the coffee table. While reaching for it you called out, “Hey love?”
Taehyung snapped his neck at a speed too fast for your liking, instantly facing you with eyes wide and blown out in what you could only assume was shock.
You giggled, thinking he was too absorbed in his own world that he probably just now noticed your presence.
“I know I said I wanted pasta for dinner but how about we order some chinese instead?” You asked. Taehyung didn’t say anything, eyes still wide in unknown revelation, entirely unmoving. You continued, “This weather makes me not want to do anything, and I know you complain about the delivery time but we could just reheat the food if it gets here cold.”
It seemed like forever but Taehyung eventually nodded.
He then turned to face the window again.
You inwardly sighed and guessed he wasn’t thrilled with the idea of chinese. He always complained that you didn’t take care of yourself and how you needed home cooked meals rather than greasy takeout. But when creatively burnt out like this, you tended to just reach for the doordash because the act of cooking seemed entirely too much for you.
Hoping to butter him up, you tipped toed from behind and wrapped your arms around him. You nuzzled your face into his back and took a deep breath, enjoying the familiar scent of his outrageously expensive cologne. His body seemed to melt into your hold, tense posture suddenly limp and calm.
You reached up and pecked his cheek, grinning when you caught sight of his lips twitching upwards. Harmless manipulation complete, you trudged out the room with a lukewarm “Thanks honey!”
You skipped up the stairs and made a left into a hallway, quickly getting into the bedroom and preparing to plop into the heavenly crumpled mess of sheets and blankets, when an unexpected sound caused you to still.
The front door was opening.
Afraid of a possible home invasion, you rushed out to see what was happening.
The door was wide open and emerging into the home…was Taehyung.
His hair and jacket was drenched from the rain, four or so heaping grocery bags in his hold as he looked up the stairs at you with a tired smile.
“Hey baby, can you give me a hand with some of this? I got some sauce for the pasta and picked up some other stuff we were running low on.”
Time stood still.
Your jaw dropped in bewilderment.
Your mind struggling to process this odd collapse of reality.
The nearest grocery store was, at its quickest, still a twenty-minute drive into town.
There was just no way Taehyung was able to leave and get back in the same time it took for you to get up the stairs and into your room.
No one can be in two places at once.
What the fuck was going on?
You just saw him. You just talked to him. You just smelled him. You just touched him.
Taehyung’s gaze worriedly ran up and down your face, correctly detecting that something was dreadfully wrong. He kicked the door closed behind him and rather ungracefully dropped the bags, hastily stepping over some of the falling items to race up the steps and take you in his hold.
“Y/n? Baby what’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost! Did something happen while I was gone?” He fretted.
“I-w-what-you-j-just-living room…” You stammered, not even being able to bring yourself to voice what was happening.
“What? What about the living room? You’re not making any sense.”
You gulped, looking up at him with fear. “T-Tae, I could’ve sworn I just saw you in the living room. I talked to you.”
Your boyfriend’s face dropped.
“Y/n, get in the bedroom and lock the door behind you.”
You irritably huffed while blinking away oncoming tears, realizing Taehyung didn’t quite understand what you were saying. “No! Not like an intruder! It was you.”
“I’m right here Y/n. I just got back from the market. I haven’t been home in the past hour. There’s no way you just saw me in this house.” He slowly explained, as if you were having some mental breakdown and needed to be talked off the ledge.
Your temper rose. “No shit Kim Taehyung! That’s why I’m scared! Do you have a twin brother or something? Or did you come into the living room before going back to the car to get the groceries?”
Taehyung backed away from you, clearly put off by your outburst. “No? First off, you know I’m an only child. Secondly, why would I come in and let you talk to me before going back out in the pouring rain, bring in groceries and then pretend I have no idea what you’re talking about when you said you saw me in the house just now?”
You glared up at him, now feeling foolish for even being scared in the first place of something that most definitely had a logical explanation.
Your boyfriend always had a more playful side than you and this was most likely the first trick he was trying to play in your very young relationship.
“I told you I don’t like pranks, Taehyung. You can pull them on your friends all you want but you promised to never pull one on me.”
He threw his hands up in the air in exasperation. “I’m not pranking you! It probably was an intruder who looked kinda like me and instead of letting me go and investigate, you're arguing with me?”
“It wasn’t an intruder! He didn’t take anything!”
Taehyung laughed incredulously, “Great, you're defending some robber over your own boyfriend now? I almost feel jealous.”
“There’s nothing to be jealous over because the guy was you!” You exploded.
“Which isn’t possible!”
“Go look then!” You relented.
Taehyung didn’t need to be told twice. He swiftly ran down the stairs and went through the entire house, searching for an unseen man who managed to trick his girlfriend into thinking he was him.
He found no such person.
It was only while you both wordlessly unpacked the groceries while licking the wounds of your little spat did Taehyung make a point that chilled you to the bone.
“Y/n, when you saw me…how did I look?”
You raised a brow at him. “I don’t know? You looked just fine.”
“Okay…and your working theory is I parked outside and came in, talked to you, then went back out, just to enter through the front again like nothing happened?”
You meekly shrugged, “Yeah I guess that would be a good trick.”
Your clever boyfriend pointed at the window, where it was still raining heavily. “I would've been soaked then, Y/n.”
That was the first incident.
— Dinner that night was a tense affair.
At least until Taehyung solemnly apologized for being so bad at hiding his true identity.
He then fessed up to being the Korean version of The Flash.
Against yourself, you bursted out laughing.
Maybe it was all the anxiety of the day that made you loopy, or your desperate need to just return to normal but you apologized for snapping and blamed your overactive writer's imagination for everything.
Taehyung said it was okay and that you actually looked hot when angry, you knew for a fact you didn’t but took the compliment nonetheless and suggested an early night in.
And just like that your first couple fight was over.
Yet that night when you were in the arms of your slumbering boyfriend, with his peaceful snores rumbling in your ear, all you could think about was the other Taehyung.
You regretfully lied to your boyfriend.
You knew for a fact that it wasn’t your imagination.
You were never the type of writer who got so immersed in your work that you began imagining things and confusing them for reality. If anything, you were too grounded in reality. In addition to this, you highly doubted that multiple weeks of writer’s block would even allow for such a vivid mirage to occur.
And the most damning evidence of all, if it was your imagination…why would your mind conjure up the exact replica of your boyfriend? The very man you live with and see everyday for hours on end? Wouldn’t it be a character from your book? Or at least someone you haven’t seen in a while?
It all didn’t make sense, but you didn’t have enough information to say what it was, you just knew what it wasn’t.
You rolled over and buried your face into Taehyung’s chest, practically praying for the mystery to soon be over and solve itself quickly.
It was most likely the overthinking and looming dark corners of the bedroom, but you began to feel like someone was watching you through the small gap in your ajar bedroom door.
– A few days passed and you have almost forgotten about the incident.
I mean, maybe not entirely but you were at least willing to chalk it up to a freak incident.
Scrolling through some discussion boards online showed that your story was actually pretty tame to what other unexplainable experiences some people have had. At least the other Taehyung didn’t try to scare or hurt you. It just seemed like he was doing his own thing really, like he was lost in his own world staring out that window. Thus you concluded that you weren’t in danger, and it therefore wasn’t worth freaking out about.
Mainly because your editor was on your ass and there was nothing productive about thinking of him when you were already so late on a deadline.
Naturally, you attempted to throw yourself into your writing, which was proving to be as fruitless as ever. Yet you knew giving your editor anything was better than nothing, leading you to sending half-assed drafts to him and enduring long calls about how your writing was okay, but not great.
You and Taehyung have been off too.
There was no more fighting or even words exchanged about the fiasco. However there still was an uneasiness between you two. You doubted that Taehyung believed your imagination excuse, but you also knew that he didn’t trust your original recollection of events either. Your boyfriend sort of walked on eggshells around you, almost as if you’d somehow think he was the imposter whenever he’d step into the room. You would be lying if you said you weren’t a little offended by it.
Luckily, Taehyung was currently immersed with his art, rarely leaving his little workspace. You wished you could say the same but you felt like you were simply writing in circles without actually getting anywhere. It was hard to not be jealous, but at least you were given some space away from him after a rather unresolved fight.
Meanwhile, you were planning to take a day or two off of writing, to just let your mind wander and relax so that maybe the next time you sat behind a laptop you could actually produce something worthwhile.
Of course it would just so happen that it would fall on the very day you get sick.
Waking up that morning you felt feverish and lightheaded, telling yourself that you could just use fifteen more minutes of sleep and you’d probably feel better.
You woke up five hours later; feeling even more feverish, lightheaded, and now nauseous.
You trudged downstairs to the kitchen and popped back some painkillers with a glass of water, already fantasizing about getting back into your warm and comfy bed once again.
Except what could make your bed even warmer and comfier? Taehyung.
Your boyfriend was always the more affectionate one between you two, you often practically had to push him away when you were trying to get work done. But now that you were willingly going to ask for his affection, there was no way he’d let you go uncuddled.
Any awkwardness in the relationship was long forgotten as you stomped towards his workspace, a demand to be held heavy on your tongue. You were too sick and exhausted to try to navigate relationship politics, but the whole point of a boyfriend was that he was supposed to provide attention on demand, right?
You reached his door and feebly knocked, trying to be polite to his artistic process and not just barge in.
You heard some shuffling on the other side and soon enough your boyfriend was in front of you. Taehyung hadn’t shaved his face in days, a faint goatee gracing his already intimidatingly handsome face. His black hair was messy and fluffy, a gold chain gracing his neck and drawing attention to his lack of shirt and gray sweatpants.
He grinned at you, “What’s up baby?”
You pouted up at him, momentarily not even ashamed to resort to such cheap tricks, “I feel sick and want to be cuddled back to sleep.”
“Aww poor thing.” He crooned while leaning against the doorframe. “Why don’t you head back up to bed and I’ll be up as soon as I can? I just finished a sketch and really need to focus on the next few steps before I can quit for the day.”
You huffed, kind of annoyed that he wouldn’t even take a break to hold you.
He rolled his eyes at your reaction, “Don’t look at me like that, honey. When the muse strikes, I gotta paint. Otherwise I don’t know when I’ll get the next chance for inspiration. You understand, right?”
“Yeah, I’m just really crabby and being held sounded really good.”
Taehyung chucked, muttering to himself a “cute” before leaning forward and pecking your lips. “I promise I’ll try to be quick. Go drink some water and wait for me. I’ll bring you some soup when I’m done.”
You just nodded and left him to his work. Instead of the bedroom, your feet somehow led you to the living room.
Maybe you should watch some tv while Taehyung worked? You already slept a lot today and if Taehyung was gonna be in bed with you later, perhaps it was a good idea to stay up for a little bit. Besides, you’ve been avoiding this part of the house ever since the incident and you needed to get comfortable in your own living room eventually.
Such a reminder of that rainy day caused you to cast a wary glance at the bay window, oddly feeling both relief and annoyance that nothing was there.
You plunked down onto the couch and wrapped a throw blanket around you, searching your usual streaming services for some comfort show to watch.
It was halfway through an episode of some show you’ve already watched countless times, when you heard footsteps approaching.
You looked up and saw your boyfriend, looking as cute and messy as before. Except now he held a sheepish smile on his face as he held up a steaming mug of something.
“What’s that?”
He took a seat next to you and gently handed the drink over. “Hot chocolate. I know protocol is tea whenever someone is sick, but I know how much you hate the taste.”
You fondly smiled and took the mug, flustered that he remembered such a minor detail about you. “Thank you love but you didn’t have to. You should be focusing on your work. Don’t let me distract you!”
Taehyung shook his head and threw an arm around you, holding you tight against him. He craned his neck and looked down to you, almost meeting you nose-to nose to connect his gaze with yours. Suddenly a serious expression replaced his formerly sheepish one.
“Actually, I wanted to talk.” He said, taking a deep breath before continuing, “I-I wanted to say sorry.”
“For what?”
He licked his lips, “I know we’ve been kinda out-of-sync ever since you said you saw someone and I didn’t believe you. But, it just didn’t make sense. Like, how is that possible? Whatever the case though, I shouldn’t have made you feel like you were going crazy or something.”
You raised an eyebrow, “So you believe me then?”
“Yes. I know you wouldn’t lie. I don’t know what happened but…I know you know what you saw.”
A warm feeling spread across your chest, temporarily putting your sickness on the back burner. In truth, you weren't sure if the situation even called for an apology but you felt so pampered that your boyfriend cared enough to. “I-I’m sorry too, Tae. I shouldn’t have assumed you were being mean and pranking me. Snapping at you wasn’t cool.”
Taehyung just shrugged. “Nah, I probably would’ve done the same thing.”
You secretly agreed that you were in the right but still, if he was being a big enough person to say sorry so should you. You turned your attention back to the drink in your hands, taking a sip.
You nearly moaned in pleasure when the flavor graced your taste buds.
“What did you put in this?”
“Oh just some cinnamon and-”
“Ginger.” You interrupted, knowing without a doubt that it was the other spice.
“Yup. Why? Is something wrong?” He asked, probably worried you didn’t like it.
“No! It’s perfect.” You said before gulping down more of the nostalgic hot chocolate. “When I was a kid, I had a babysitter who would make her hot chocolate with cinnamon and ginger. Mrs Fritz was her name, a really kind old lady from down the street. I was her favorite so she made hot chocolate for me all the time and watched me for free whenever my parents went out.”
Taehyung hummed, a small smile on his face as you fondly recalled one of the biggest figures of your childhood. “She must’ve had great taste.”
“Mrs. Fritz had impeccable taste.” You good-naturedly corrected with a giggle. “I miss her. When other kids wouldn’t play with me she would stay inside with me and color or read me these cool stories.”
“I would’ve played with you.” Taehyung grumbled, in all likelihood noting how you grimaced at the memory of not being all too popular as a kid.
“Haha, you definitely wouldn’t have! I was such a dork and actually hated playing outside. Kid me much rather be at home watching some old movies or something. Not to mention I was quite an ugly little girl.” You laughed.
Tae gasped dramatically, “That’s not true! You were adorable!”
“You saw like one picture of me at eight! And my mom did me all up for that picture! Trust me, I didn’t look that good at all.”
Taehyung looked like he wanted to argue further, but realizing you were right he just dropped it with an unconvincing, “Whatever you say.”
“But anyway babe, you really can go back to painting. I don’t want to keep you. If I had any inspiration right now, you wouldn’t be able to tear me away from my laptop.”
His arm tugged you even closer. “Nope, I’m alright where I’m at right now. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I left my sick girlfriend all alone?”
You blushed, logically aware that you could handle yourself but emotionally over the moon that this beautiful man didn’t want you to. Selfishly, you wanted to take advantage of his presence even if it came at the expense of his art progress. So you placed the mostly empty mug on the coffee table, fishing out your phone from your sweatpant pocket and setting it there too.
You then curled up into his side, suddenly feeling so drowsy.
Taehyung held you closer, even playing with your hair as you lost the battle with your increasingly heavy eyelids.
You felt him press his lips against your forehead in a drawn out peck, as his nose ticked the crown of your head. He inhaled deeply, his everlasting love for your shampoo revealing itself once more.
“You okay?” His baritone voice whispered.
“Yeah. I just took some medicine that’s probably making me all sleepy.” You mumbled back.
You didn’t hear anything else, just felt as he rested his head on top of yours, presumably also closing his eyes to rest.
Slowly but surely feeling the mechanisms of your brain shut down, the darkness steadily taking over as the sound of the tv became more and more distant.
A notification from your phone caused you to open a single eye, quickly scanning the screen on the coffee table.
Taebear: Hey almost done over here! Do you mind turning down the TV a bit tho? Kinda distracting :(
Before you can even gasp, the medicine-induced darkness consumed you completely, effectively and brutally knocking you out.
That was the second incident.
“So like I was saying, I dumped his ass because what the fuck do you mean you ‘don’t know what we are’? I met his damn parents, Y/n!”
The voice blarred over the phone speaker, as you hummed rather noncommittally. “What a jerk. You can do a whole lot better, Lisa.”
You were in the laundry room, slowly taking clothes out of the dryer and folding them as you spoke on the phone with one of your closest friends. About once a week you two would have a call and catch each other up with your lives. Although, Lisa led a much more interesting life than you and usually had a crazy story to share every week, while you just reacted to it. It was kinda like a one listener podcast, but you didn’t mind as you were always very entertained with her.
“Thank you! I don’t know where I keep finding these guys. You really got lucky with Taehyung, all the other men our age are such assholes.” She groaned.
You wanted to laugh, but at the mention of your boyfriend’s name you froze.
Not catching your silence, Lisa continued, “Anyway, how are you and Taehyung doing? What’s it like to live together only six months into a relationship?”
“Actually…we had our first fight.” You told her. “Maybe. I don’t know. It may not even be considered a fight so much as a disagreement but I’ve been feeling a little awkward.”
“Oooh, what happened?” She didn’t even try to mask her excitement.
“It…I…Something happened and he didnt…I don’t know, Lisa. I’m going to sound crazy but I feel like I’m experiencing a glitch in the matrix or some shit.”
She pushed, “Try me. Remember when I used to be a flat earther? I’ll believe anything.”
Lisa made a good point, she was always down for conspiracies and even proclaimed herself a supernatural expert. So you relented, “Okay. Look, I don’t want you to laugh at me or anything because I’m being completely honest. I’m telling you this because I desperately need theories.”
“I promise I’ll give you a theory! Just get to it!” She barked over the phone, anxiously awaiting your story.
“Um, so earlier this week I went downstairs and saw Taehyung. I talked to him about ordering out instead of cooking, hugged him then went up the stairs. Then not even a second later Taehyung came home with groceries, telling me he wasn’t in the house at all when I said I saw him.” You paused, waiting for her to interject.
“Huh…” She trailed off, stumped herself with what that could mean.
“And yesterday, I went to Tae’s workspace to try to cuddle but he said he needed a bit more time with his painting and then he’d meet me upstairs. I went to the couch to wait and he suddenly came in and apologized for not believing me earlier. We cuddled and talked then…I got a text from Taehyung asking me to turn the tv down because it was distracting him.”
You took a deep breath to calm your rising nerves, not liking how you were managing to scare yourself all over again. “Lisa, how was I in Taehyung's arms when Taehyung wasn’t even in the room with me?”
“How did this other Taehyung act? Was he any different than your actual boyfriend?”
“I mean, the first time he didn’t say a word and I left the room quickly. The second time he was so sweet and…I don’t know. Maybe even nicer than my actual boyfriend but not like suspiciously so.”
“And there’s no difference between him and Taehyung? Same height, voice, birthmarks, everything?”
“Yes.”
A brief silence as she no doubt was working with a theory. “And you’ve never had experiences like this before you moved into that farmhouse?”
“None.”
“Ah-ha! It’s probably a ghost then!” She assured triumphantly.
You, however, weren’t so sure she solved the case. “A ghost that looks exactly like my boyfriend?”
“Well, crazier things have happened. You know, scientists say that each person has around six doppelgangers out there somewhere. What if this ghost was your boyfriend's doppelganger?”
“Still, why would he act like he was my boyfriend? Like, this ghost must have a different name and background than my Taehyung so why does he go along with it whenever I call him Taehyung and treat him like a boyfriend?” You questioned.
“The afterlife can get pretty dull. The ghost is probably just bored and noticed that Taehyung looks alot like him, so he’s using that to his advantage to mess around.”
“That doesn’t make me feel better.” You grumbled, pissed at the prospect of you being a little plaything to a bored spirit.
“I know babe but ghosts are mostly harmless. If it really starts to bother you, maybe get a medium to move him along or whatever.” Lisa advised.
“Yeah, maybe.” – Mom: Look what I found!
The text came with a video attached, and you clicked it without thinking much.
A chubby little girl of about three to five years of age was badly hiding in a school cubby. Her mini feet sticking out and wiggling as the rest of her body was covered by a hung up winter coat. The cameraman sighed dramatically from behind the scenes, asking loudly, “Oh where could Y/n possibly be?!”
The girl giggled and a new figure slowly snuck into frame, approaching the cubby with a large grin.
The preschool teacher suddenly reached into the cubby and snatched the girl up, holding her up in the air as if the toddler was a prize of some sort. “Gotcha!”
The mini version of you laughed in her hold, kicking the air in glee. “Miss Addison you found me! You’ll find me anywhere, right?”
The young teacher nodded as she placed you on your feet. “Of course! I have a really good Y/n sense! I’ll find you anywhere.”
“Even the moon?” Innocent you asked, most likely just having learned about the star.
“Yes, I’ll find you on the moon if I have to!” Miss Addison chuckled.
The video ended and you went to type your mom a half-hearted reply, mostly inquiring how she still even had that clip after all these years.
While doing so, you caught yourself wishing that you could show this to Taehyung and prove that you were indeed not the best company as a child, your teacher had to play hide-and-seek with you because no one else would.
Yet, it wasn’t Taehyung you had that particular conversation with. Rather other Taehyung.
Or as you and Lisa had nicknamed; ghost Taehyung.
You failed to tell your boyfriend about the second incident. He woke you up an hour or so later with his promised bowl of soup, softly scolding you for never turning down the tv.
Deep inside you were sure that he was already convinced you were crazy from the first time his replica showed up. You didn’t seek to push that theory even further. Mostly because you didn’t want him to admit you to a psych ward, but also because of another glaring reason. The first time you were sure that Taehyung himself was messing with you somehow, which prompted you to accuse him, but this time around you knew for a fact he was innocent.
Instinctively, you didn’t feel threatened by the doppelganger spirit. If anything you sorta wished he’d pop up again with a ginger-cinnamon hot chocolate. It was kinda weird that he was acting like your boyfriend when he wasn’t, but he didn’t try to be too intimate with you or anything. The lease on the farmhouse was only twelve months so you could put up with a friendly ghost for a while if need be.
The only creepy thing was that you weren’t sure how you were going to tell if you were talking to the real Taehyung or not. Thankfully, the sick day incident seemed to be the last one, the last few days being almost eerily mundane.
The door to your bedroom suddenly slammed open, revealing your beaming boyfriend.
He held up a champagne bottle with one hand and two glasses in the other. “Guess what just happened!”
You sat up in bed and placed your phone on the nightstand as he giddily approached you. “What? Are we celebrating something?”
“Only the Bauhaus Gallery agreeing to schedule a showing for my latest collection!”
You jumped up in surprise, instantly wrapping your arms around him and plastering his face with kisses. “Oh my god! Tae! That’s amazing! I’m so proud of you! When is it?!”
“Next Friday at eight.” He chuckled through your kisses, fully basking in your attention.
The Bauhaus gallery was an uppity German gallery in town that apparently served as a who's who in the world of painting. Personally, you didn’t get what the big deal was, but Taehyung made it one of his career goals to have a show there. He always said that his career would really take off if he could showcase his work at such a place.
You pulled back and began thinking out loud as Taehyung worked on the bottle, “Wow, okay! I need to get a dress. And we should invite some friends to support you. Oh! Namjoon and his wife would probably try to buy a painting so we should see if they’re free-”
Taehyung cut you off with the resounding pop of the bottle, “Yeah yeah, we can plan that all out later. Right now I just wanna celebrate with my pretty girlfriend please.”
You quieted down and held the glasses as he poured. He then placed the bottle aside, took a glass and held it up for you to clink. You did so while your boyfriend declared, “To my collection and girlfriend; both beautiful and priceless!”
“You better announce that again at the afterparty!” You laughed, covering your blush.
You both finished the drinks rather quickly, him with a refreshing “ahh” and you with a cringe. Champagne really was overrated in your opinion, having no idea why it was the token celebratory drink. The glasses were then shoved somewhere aside, courtesy of Tae.
You laid back down in the bed, Taehyung unhurriedly following suit and even climbing on top of you at a leisurely pace.
Taehyung’s face was now inches away from yours, his every breath tickling your skin. His previous mood of joy shifted into something more…sultry. Cat eyes darkened, fully taking you in with a steadily growing smirk. The artist licked this bottom lip in a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it speed, before quirking one brow up in faux inquiry. His voice was low and husky, purring into your ears, “You know, it’s been a while since we’ve fucked.”
You snorted, “Gee, that’s hard to believe when you put me in the mood like that.”
“You like a man who's upfront.” He shrugged, not wasting a second more as he leaned down to slowly melt his lips against yours.
The intimate sensation felt almost foreign, the last few days having only been filled with obligatory pecks due to you two being so caught up in your work. You almost forgot how talented he was at making you feel special.
You kissed back just as slowly, feeling the intensity of his lips and taking the time to reacquaint yourself with them. It was gentle, deep, and meaningful. He kissed you gingerly, carefully, but that’s not what you wanted. Not after all this time. Pent-up sexual frustration caused you to knot your fists in his shirt, pulling him harder against you.
Taehyung groaned softly, low in his throat while encircling you in his arms to gather you against him. You two rolled over in the bed, tangled in the sheets, still locked at the lips.
His tongue slips into your mouth, tender but demanding. You swirl your tongue against his, moaning into his mouth as his hands snuck up to twist in your hair and grip you impossibly closer. Taehyung’s slight stubble prickles you, but somehow the extra sensation just excites you even more. Your boyfriend's lips pull back and meet their ultimate home at your neck, him now mouthing fervently at the sensitive nerves there as you gasped for air.
As you felt hotter and hotter, Taehyung answered your unsaid prayer and positioned his thigh between your legs, obscenely brushing against the place you needed him most. Knowing you like the back of his hand, he purposefully tensed his thigh as you not-so-subtly grinded against it, all the while he sucked and nibbled at the spot just below your ear.
A tug at your clothes.
Softly biting your earlobe, he whispered, “Be a good girl for me and take this shit off.”
Just when you were about to oblige, an unexpected sound cut through all the haze and caused you both to freeze.
It sounded like a…bang?
From somewhere deep within the house.
It was so loud and shrill, it effortlessly echoed off the walls of your humble bedroom. If you had to describe it, it was as if someone had just thrown a bowling ball with all their might.
Undoubtedly snapping into protector mode, Taehyung immediately jumped off of you and reached under the bed to retrieve a metal baseball bat.
“Stay here.” He ordered, already marching out the door before you could even protest.
You fearfully obeyed, reaching for your phone in case 911 had to be called.
Your once warm and flushed body was now icy with panic. Sitting upright in the bed, you strained your ears for any idea of what was occurring downstairs.
But alas, the house remained freakily silent. Almost as if that brutal sound was in your head and nothing more.
This did nothing to help your anxiety, a cold sweat quickly forming.
Minutes passed, you waited with bated breath for something. Anything.
But nothing ever came.
Your worry grew tenfold.
The longer Taehyung was away, the more you felt weighed down with dread, heart nearly in your throat.
‘What was happening downstairs? Was Taehyung okay? Did he find something? If there was a struggle, surely you would’ve heard it by now, right?’
Then ultimately, as the seconds ticked on, ‘Was your boyfriend going to come back?’
At the ten-minute mark, you made your decision.
Now concerned for your boyfriend’s safety, you sprung out of bed and ran out of the room. Your body purposefully moving too fast for your mind to catch up and halt your movements in the name of self-preservation.
“Taehyung?!” You desperately called out as you practically plummeted down the stairs.
“In here!” A croaky voice answered, sounding like your boyfriend but oddly…defeated?
You correctly traced the voice to his workroom, stepping into the space and seeing a scene that swiftly broke your heart, effectively replacing all your fright with woe.
Taehyung was on his knees in front of an easel, head bowed down.
The easel held a half-done canvas.
It was a sketch of two people, a man and a woman that closely resembled you and Taehyung.
It was partly painted, the scene depicting a warm sunny day at the park that looked alot like where Taehyung had taken you for a picnic and officially asked you to be his girlfriend. You were in Taehyung’s arms, kissing his cheek as he smiled his signature box-smile. You could recall that precise moment easily, you had just said yes to being his and sheepishly pecked his cheek, embarrassed by the old man on the bench a few feet away that eyed you two like a hawk.
It was a wonderful piece of unfinished art, not only due to the sentimental value but also the artistry and time that clearly went into it.
If only there weren't angry red sloshes of paint that cut through it, ruining the picture and turning it into something that looked like a horrible bloody mess of goo and not the romantic day it was.
“I-I was going to gift this to you….on our seventh month.” Taehyung’s voice was watery.
You didn’t even know what to say.
All of his hard work and thought was simply…gone. Erased. Ruined.
It would’ve been the equivalent of someone breaking into your laptop and deleting your entire novel’s draft. What would you even do? If roles were reversed, would there even be a way for Taehyung to console you? To make matters worse, it was his gift of love to you. He didn’t make that painting for himself, a buyer, or a collection…he made it for you.
Your empathy made you almost cry for him, but you knew that would be the last thing he’d want to see right now. His guilt would only grow.
You walked further into the room and got on your knees beside him.
Wrapping your arms around him, you cradled his head in the nook between your head and shoulder while rocking the two of you. “Tae baby, I’m so sorry.”
He didn’t say anything for a while, although you felt wet teardrops on your skin.
“Who would do this? It doesn’t make sense why someone would break in, take nothing and just destroy my gift?”
You didn’t know either, but you wanted to make him feel better. “Listen, I think it was the perfect gift. It’s really the thought that counts and I’m just happy that you even thought to make me something like that. Especially in the middle of working on your own collection, it must’ve been hard.”
Taehyung pulled back, regarding you with a tearful but hopeful gaze. “Really?”
“Of course! I was literally going to just get you a watch or something. That gift kinda would have made me look bad.” You attempted to joke.
He shakily smiled, even chuckling a bit before pulling back entirely and standing to his full height. Tae then held a hand out for you, pulling you up as well.
Not wanting to be in the room anymore with that awful mess, you gradually pushed him towards the door, eventually up the stairs and into your bedroom.
You both sat on the bed, him with his head in his hands and you awkwardly suggesting yet another early night in.
But instead of agreeing and attempting to join you under the covers, Taehyung continued to sit almost painfully still at the edge of your bed.
Then, he spoke.
“Y/n, you were lying when you said that guy was probably just a figment of your imagination.”
It wasn’t a question.
He knew.
He believed you now.
It was now the official opinion of the house that a ghost was indeed roaming around somewhere.
You wanted to pat yourself on the back because truly, your taste in men was superior.
Taehyung wasn’t one of those horror movie boyfriends that was convinced every unexplainable occurrence must’ve had a logical explanation. It only took that one experience for the artist to admit that something weird was going on, and although he never saw the ghost himself, Taehyung believed you when you said it looked exactly like him.
You were happy that you two were on the same page…well, mostly.
Taehyung reasoned that the lookalike ghost must’ve been the one to ruin his painting.
You don’t know why, but somewhere deep within, that accusation just didn’t feel right. Without thinking much, you had told your boyfriend that destroying his gift didn’t seem like something ghost Tae would do.
Obviously Taehyung was bewildered at your sudden defense of the spirit’s character and demanded to know how you could be so sure that it wasn’t him.
Feeling that your hand was forced, you fessed up to the second incident in which you ran into the other Taehyung. You explained that he was sweet, brought you hot chocolate and even held you as you fell asleep. It was only after the real Taehyung texted you that you realized it wasn’t your boyfriend, but by then it was too late.
Your boyfriend was understandably furious.
For one, you never told him that you were cuddled and taken care of by another man, dead or otherwise. And secondly, this spirit seemed to be taking too much of a liking to you. The artist was a weird mixture of jealous and protective, following you around the house and barely leaving you alone in fear that his replica would show up and snatch you away.
You thought he was overreacting, but Taehyung's determination to get rid of the ghost only grew as the days passed.
One day you took a break from writing and went downstairs to refresh your coffee, when you paused at the sight of your boyfriend waving an odd burning stick around the living room in a fashion that somehow made sense to him.
“Sage cleanses the home of negative energy and basically tells unwanted spirits to fuck off.” He told you as if you were the idiot and not him- wildly thrashing his arm around in a puff of smoke and demanding that his evil ghost twin left the premises immediately.
You shrugged, “Just don’t set off the smoke detector, please.”
The next day, Taehyung informed you over dinner that he called a security camera company and had ordered a set to be installed in your home.
“Don’t you think that’s kinda a big fucking thing to not run by me?”
“I’m sorry baby, but I knew you wouldn’t have agreed.” He apologized without seeming even the tiniest bit apologetic.
“If you knew I wouldn’t have wanted it then why do it anyway?!”
“Because as the man of the house it’s my job to protect us and I would like to witness everything that’s going on. Next time he comes out and tries to touch you, I will be able to see it from my phone and confront him.” He then reached for his water and took a self righteous sip before muttering under his breath, “That is if the sage didn’t kick him out already.”
“Man of the house?!” You echoed incredulously. “You call twirling around with some burning twigs and yelling at a harmless ghost being the man of the house?”
“He’s not harmless! Why are you so convinced that it’s just a casper that we’re dealing with?!”
You opened your mouth to retort, but snapped it shut when you realized you didn’t really have any reason to believe he wasn’t dangerous. So you just focused on the main glaring issue, “Nevermind that. I just don’t like how you made a big decision without telling me. Are we not equal in this relationship? It wasn’t even worth consulting me about?”
Taehyung didn’t say anything.
It would seem that he understood your point, but was stubbornly holding onto his just a tad more.
Appetite ruined, you stormed away in a display of vexation.
Not wanting to go to sleep beside him either, you stayed all night in your office and tried to just focus on editing the latest version of your draft.
Somewhere along the way, you managed to fall asleep on the keyboard.
You blearily awoke hours later to the sound of the door firmly shutting.
Groggily you sat up and twisted to see if anyone else was in the room with you, all the while rubbing off the key imprints on your cheek and leftover drool.
No one was there.
When you turned your attention back to the desk, you softly gasped in surprise.
A plate of grilled cheese sat there, still hot.
Alongside it was a steaming mug of hot chocolate.
One sip and you instantly recognized the ginger-cinnamon.
It wasn’t your boyfriend who left this.
The sage didn’t work.
Ralph was a man of about fifty years of age.
Tall, lumbering, calloused and not necessarily easy on the eyes, he shifted awkwardly at the entrance of your delicate farmhouse as Taehyung listed off the places in the home that he’d like covered.
Ralph was to set up the cameras while you and your boyfriend went out for a quick errand.
The gallery showing was tomorrow, and so was the little afterparty that you had arranged to take place. You did so without really realizing all that you would need for hosting. The guest list was an intimate circle of seven, but given you and Taehyung were running out of groceries for even just the two of you, you figured a trip to the market was needed to properly prepare.
You rolled your eyes and waited for your boyfriend to finish his little pep talk, sighing in relief when Ralph was finally free to disappear into the living room with his bag of tools.
“Ready?” You asked Taehyung, not really waiting for an answer as you stomped past him and out the door.
He followed you wordlessly to the car.
The ride into town was stiff and awkward, neither one of you saying anything and music not even playing in the background as Taehyung drove.
You both were still angry at each other.
Well, more like you were angry at him and he was correctly trying to not poke the bear by instigating useless chatter.
The cameras were overkill in your opinion and a giant waste of money. You both were artists, which means a severe lack of steady income. You needed to be smart with what you threw cash at because no one knew if your next book or his next painting would even sell. Nothing was ever guaranteed.
You felt for him that his gift was wrecked, but you weren’t lying when you said that the thought was all that really mattered to you. You genuinely didn’t care either way, it would’ve been nice to have the painting, but it was just as nice to know that he was painting one for you.
If you were a betting woman, you would bet that this was more about Taehyung’s unfounded jealousy than anything else. Usually you would find harmless jealousy kind of attractive, but not when it went into installing cameras into your home at the “low” price of a couple hundred dollars.
You thought of this in a quiet rage as Taehyung pulled into the grocery store.
He parked, you both got out and walked inside before grabbing a cart.
“Let’s split up.” You said, your tone leaving no room for argument.
“Fine. What do you want me to get?”
“Get the drinks. They’re mainly your friends so you’d know what they’d like more than me. I’ll get some stuff for a charcuterie board.” You ordered, just wanting to get back home as soon as possible
He nodded and swiftly went over to the alcohol section as you made way into the food aisles.
You were looking at the different types of crackers and wondering what the fuck the difference was when a sudden call of your name took your attention.
“Y/n?”
The voice was light and airy, tone warm and nostalgic to the ears.
No way.
It can’t be…
You swirled around to face the owner, nearly choking on your spit when you realized your suspicions were correct.
Park Jimin was as gorgeous as ever. The cherub face was just as you recalled, somehow both ruggedly handsome and softly docile. His eyes crinkled behind a pearly smile, a small hand coming up to swiftly brush through his dyed blonde hair as he approached you.
“I thought that was you.” He chuckled. “How have you been? It’s been so long.”
You managed a wry smile.
Jimin was once your college boyfriend of one year, five months, and eight days.
But hey, who was counting?
“I’m doing okay.” You choked out, not liking how he quickly frowned at your strained tone. If there was one man you could never lie to, it was Jimin. “How about yourself? Did you open up that studio you always wanted?”
The truth was you knew he did. Before meeting and dating Taehyung, you were guilty of occasionally checking his social media. It simply couldn’t be helped. Jimin was the longest relationship you ever had. The first man you ever really loved. And your first ever heartbreak.
“Um, yeah I did! I heard you published your first book last year. I bought a few copies myself…” he trailed off sheepishly, suddenly avoiding eye contact. “It uh, was really well written. Are you um, working on anything now?”
You bit your lip, not sure how you felt about the man you were once wildly in love with reading your novel after years of not talking. Much less buying more than one copy to support you. “Y-Yes I’m writing my second book.”
He nodded, a proud expression on his face as he pursed his lips in thought.
“I’m sorry this is…weird.” He finally huffed. “I really didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”
You sighed with some relief, thankful he felt the same way. “Same. After you said you wanted to date other people I really didn’t expect to say another word to you like, ever.”
Jimin laughed, “Haha, what? Your memory continues to suck, Y/n. If anything it was you who ghosted-”
“Y/n.”
A much deeper voice cut through the air, bringing all the attention to a new figure descending upon the scene.
Taehyung strode up from behind you, placing an arm around you and regarding the other man with a brooding look of regard.
“Whose this?” Your boyfriend asked, purposefully deepening his already deep voice.
You inwardly rolled your eyes, noting how the artist was practically puffing his chest and glowering at the much shorter man.
“Taehyung, this is my old friend Jimin. Jimin, this is my boyfriend Taehyung.”
The two stiffly nodded at each other, you dodging the questioning look Jimin secretly shot at you for being described as ‘an old friend’.
A pregnant pause hung in the air.
“So…how long have you two been together?”
Before either you or your boyfriend could answer, a pretty lady suddenly skipped into the aisle and grasped onto Jimin’s arm.
“Babe, I can’t find the oat milk! I thought you said- Oh hello!” She just now noticed you and Taehyung, smiling politely and not-so-subtly nudging at Jimin to introduce her.
“Oh, um, this is Molly.”
“His girlfriend! And you two are?”
“I’m Y/n and this is my boyfriend Taehyung.” You introduced. “Jimin and I went to school together.”
“Really? I never get to meet any of Jimin’s old friends! We should have a double date or something!” Molly was an over the top girl, your ears almost ringing at the volume she exuded. But she seemed nice, so you smiled warmly at her and vaguely agreed.
Another brief, awkward and only slightly painful silence.
“Actually…” You trailed off in thought, an idea forming in your head but you didn’t know if it was a good one. Yet it was too late. Before you could even backtrack, all three sets of eyes were on you, eagerly waiting for you to finish the thought. “…what are you two doing tomorrow night?”
“Was just gonna drag Jiminnie to see this new movie! We can totally blow it off though!”
“Well, my boyfriend is a really talented artist and he has a showing tomorrow night. We’d love it if you two could make it.”
You felt Taehyung stiffen beside you, but you paid it no mind.
From what you understood about showings the more people, the more eyes, the better. It was harmless, wasn’t it? Jimin bought multiple copies of your book, and you’d invite him to a gallery showing to please his over hyper girlfriend.
Even, right?
Molly beamed, asking for your number to exchange the details.
You did so, pretending not to notice how both Jimin and Taehyung bore their stares into you.
When finished, you waved goodbye to the couple as they made their way to the dairy section. You and Taehyung then continued your own shopping in a rushed manner- your boyfriend grumbling about having to get back in time for the cameras.
The ride home was a bit more talkative, with Taehyung asking how you knew of Jimin and what made you two friends. You answered the questions rather honestly, just leaving out the parts about how your friendship blossomed into something more.
You weren’t exactly trying to be deceitful. It was just that he was under a lot of stress and paranoia the last few days, you didn’t want to push his poor nerves any further. If he was willing to set up a bunch of cameras to keep some ghost away from you, you didn’t want to push your luck by mentioning that Jimin was your ex boyfriend and longest relationship.
Besides, it wasn’t like Jimin was any kind of threat. You would never entertain the idea of going back to the guy who dumped you. He also now had Molly, so clearly you both moved on.
Taehyung pulled the car into the driveway, asking if you could handle the few bags as he went in to talk to Ralph and sort out the last few steps of installation. You agreed, watching him jog into the home as you gathered all the groceries and took your time to get inside.
You beelined straight to the kitchen with the newly bought food, raising your brows when you saw Taehyung staring at something intently on the counter.
“What is it?”
Taehyung didn’t answer.
You walked up behind him and stood on your tippy toes to spot over his shoulder what he was looking at.
It was a note, in messy and hurried handwriting.
“Sorry but the cameras could not have been installed. It won’t work here. -Ralph.”
If there was any man on top of the world tonight- his name was Kim Taehyung.
The Bauhaus gallery was swarmed with countless people, all clamoring to gaze upon the latest Kim collection and ponder the intricate meanings behind each piece. They wore luxury clothes and drank fancy wine that you couldn’t even pronounce, their tax bracket clearly a couple pegs above yours. There was of course some idle chatter, almost every corner of the building being filled with some pretentious snob rambling about the brush strokes, artistic style and commentary your boyfriend was allegedly trying to make with his art.
Such a crowd was not something you were accustomed to.
Thus you clung to Lisa, both idly sipping at wine and watching your boyfriend from afar as he charmingly answered questions.
“You know, he’s going to make thousands of dollars tonight.” Lisa thought out loud. “These rich types will outbid each other like crazy.”
You shrugged nonchalantly. You were happy for him, and knew he deserved it but you would be lying if you said he wasn’t in the doghouse.
“Still mad huh?” Lisa correctly assumed, reading your expression. “What happened after the camera dude disappeared?”
“Taehyung was really upset and called the company to demand his money back. They refunded him entirely, apologized and even sent someone to get the company van. I guess the Ralph dude was an alcoholic and everyone just kinda accepts that he skipped town.” You explained. “I tried to calm him down but he sorta snapped at me about how I never even wanted the cameras so I was probably just loving it all.”
Lisa lowly whistled, “Damn. Well, he probably snapped about the cameras but I promise you it wasn’t just about that.”
“What do you mean?”
“You invited your ex to his showing.” Lisa lectured, as if you were a child who didn’t even understand what you did wrong.
You stuttered, “B-But he doesn’t know Jimin is an ex! I told him he was just an old friend.”
She rolled her eyes, “Y/n of course he would see right through that. There's always going to be chemistry between Jimin and you, he probably picked up on it and is aware you’re not telling the complete truth about what you two were.”
“He’s just overly jealous. He wants to fight our ghost too. At this point, every man is a threat to him.”
At the mention of your ghost, Lisa’s eyes practically sparkled. “Oh I can’t wait to go back to your place! I want to feel the haunted energy for myself.”
Now it was your turn to roll your eyes, “It’s just like any other home, Lisa.”
“That’s because you don’t have a psychic sense to save your life, Y/n.”
You didn’t know whether or not to be offended by that, so you decided to distract yourself by scanning the room for your boyfriend’s invited friends.
Kim Namjoon was an old boss of Taehyung that remained good friends with the artist even after he dumped his job to take up painting full time. Currently, he and his wife Jennifer were talking rather seriously to a thin-lipped curator, most likely about purchasing one of the artworks displayed.
Right across from where you and Lisa stood, Taehyung was conversing with his former coworkers; Jin and Hoseok. They appeared to be laughing about something, their lightheartedness standing out in the overly serious room of people.
If you craned your neck a little to the left, you could spot Yoongi and Jungkook hiding in a corner away from everyone else, almost perfectly mimicking you and your close friend. They both nursed their drinks quietly, occasionally sharing words but mainly just waiting out this event.
You always kind of thought that Lisa and Jungkook would make a good pairing if properly introduced and pushed. So you turned to your friend and was just about to suggest you guys walk over, when she made a face at something behind you.
“Uh oh, here comes the ex.” She mumbled.
You turned around to indeed see Jimin and Molly approaching.
Jimin wore a suit, dress shirt unbuttoned at the top to reveal some of his sun kissed chest. His blonde hair was properly done this time, brushed to the side and back to fully expose his forehead. He raised a hand and waved, rings catching the light and nearly blinding you in the process.
Beside him, Molly looked as pretty as ever in a blue sweetheart dress that complimented her figure. Yet, she looked rather irritated. She attempted to give you a smile in greeting, but it looked more like a grimace.
Jimin spoke first, “Hey, I’m so sorry we’re late. I’m hoping we didn’t miss too much?”
You wanted to be annoyed but without meaning to, a giggle escaped you.
“Things really don’t change.” You told Jimin, a knowing look simmering in your eyes. While dating, you guys were often the couple that showed up late to any event. Most people assumed that it was your doing because you were the girl, when in all actuality it was Jimin.
Jimin shamelessly grinned, “I’ve gotten better, I swear.”
You didn’t believe it for a second and he knew it.
You both shared a laugh, staring at each other fondly like old friends reliving the old times.
It was hard to believe that you were joking with the man you once thought you’d never get over or forgive. Countless nights were spent eating your feelings, hysterically crying and obsessing over all the videos or pictures you couldn’t bring yourself to delete.
But there are some people in life that as soon as they come back, it’s like they never left.
And it was almost as if Jimin never left.
You two continued to gaze into each other, lost in your own comfortable bubble when a sudden throat clearing broke the haze.
“Um, actually the showing is almost over.” Lisa informed, her and Molly visibly looking left out of the nostalgia.
Your ex had the decency to look guilty. “Oh no! I’m so sorry! Maybe we can all just get drinks? There’s a nice bar two blocks down. I can buy a round for everyone?”
“That’s sweet but we have a little after party planned back at my place. I live kind of out of town though, so it’s okay if you can’t make it.”
“No! We can make it! What's the address?” Jimin seemed eager.
You told him, him pulling out his phone to save it into his gps system.
Molly was silent all this time, which was kind of worrying as your first meeting with her led you to believe she was the bubbly type. Now that you mentioned it, it looked like she was avoiding looking at either you or her boyfriend, focusing on a spot on the wall somewhere behind you.
You opened your mouth to maybe ask if she was alright, but quickly shut it when you realized that could be overstepping some boundary.
Fortunately, Lisa seemed to have enough of this entire interaction and grabbed your arm while saying, “Me and Y/n were just going to go to the restroom! Please take a good look around and enjoy her boyfriend’s work! See you guys at the after party!”
Your friend then swiftly dragged you away, barely leaving you enough time to smile apologetically at the couple.
When you both entered the restroom, Lisa simply marched up to the sink and began fixing invisible smudges in her makeup as you shifted awkwardly beside her.
“So…” She started, looking you up and down in the mirror. “Please tell me you know Jimin is still in love with you.”
“W-What?! No way!” You spluttered.
“Y/n it’s so obvious. I actually felt bad for his girlfriend. He couldn’t take his eyes off you.” She rolled her eyes, almost disappointed in your lack of awareness.
“It’s just been forever. It’s hard to not hyperfocus on eachother, we’ve both changed so much. Also, why would the guy who dumped me out of nowhere still be in love with me?”
She released a deep sigh, “He knows he made the shittiest mistake of his life and is now regretting it when seeing you and your talented boyfriend doing so well.”
You chuckled at the thought of someone looking at your relationship and being jealous.
“Listen, just remember tonight is Taehyung’s night and fighting or not, he’s still a wonderful boyfriend overall. And Jimin is your ex who broke your heart. Inviting him to your place after this might’ve been too much. I suggest you keep your distance.”
“Lisa, thanks for the advice but I honestly was just being friendly. He seemed sorry that he missed most of the showing. Besides, I’m going to be too busy hosting to have a deep heart to heart with him or anything.” You explained, a little offended that she thought you were going to play part in some dramatic reconciliation.
A sudden announcement echoed outside the restroom doors, your ears straining to hear a gallery worker asking everyone to gather on the main floor for the artist’s speech and thus the final part of the night.
Saying nothing more, Lisa and you made your exit to join the audience.
– The clock was nearing midnight.
Your usually quiet farmhouse of a home was not at all quiet.
Your boyfriend's friends were merrily talking and drinking, once in a while their masculine laughs would sync up and reverberate through the halls. They all conversed and lounged in the living room, the largest part of the house that could fit all of them comfortably. Yet, you and Lisa stayed in the kitchen, making the drinks and finger foods, as you indulged in harmless girl talk.
“The one with tattoos is so hot, Y/n. Please tell me he’s single!”
“Jungkook? I’m pretty sure he is. Taehyung told me that Namjoon is the only other one in the friend group that’s in a relationship.”
“Okay, so far so good.” She paused to pop a stuffed mushroom in her mouth, humming in thought. “What’s his type though? Like, would I have to make the first move? Does he like a straightforward girl? Because he hasn’t so much as looked at me tonight.”
“I’ve only met Taehyung’s friends once before so I don’t know their types or anything. I do think Jungkook looks a lot manlier than he actually is. He’s very kind but shy so you’ll have to talk to him first.” You explained while opening another bottle of wine for the two of you.
Lisa frowned at the thought, not used to being the one that had to chase.
You poured two glasses, handing her one with a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, I can introduce you two. It’s kind of a good thing he’s avoiding you like the plague, Tae once said he only acts like that with pretty girls.”
Your friend lit up like the fourth of july.
“Hey babe!” A familiar deep voice called out.
You looked around to see your boyfriend stepping into the kitchen, a buzzed smile on his face and a slightly glazed film over his eyes.
Moments like these made you realize how much of a lightweight your boyfriend was. It only took one or two drinks for him to get tipsy. But it was still his night and he was already home amongst loved ones, so all you could do is smile endearingly at his slightly intoxicated self.
“Yes, handsome?”
His boxy grin grew, “The boys want more beer.”
“Already?! I put out a twelve pack! People need to be able to drive home, ya know!”
He laughed, “Baby, my friends can drink a gallon each and still be able to drive home with their eyes closed if need be.”
“Well I don’t have any more beer up here. Just wine. There might be some more in the basement, though.”
He nodded in thanks, turning his back to presumably go to the basement and retrieve the drinks.
Lisa waited for him to get fully out of earshot before leaning over and dramatically whispering, “How is Jimin and that Molly girl doing?”
You shrugged, “Last time I was in there, Hoseok was making conversation with Jimin and Molly was all over Yoongi.”
“Damn, trouble in paradise?”
“I don’t know. He didn’t seem too bothered and she seemed a little drunk. She might just get overly friendly when she drinks.”
“And you’re still convinced that he’s over you?”
You rolled your eyes but ultimately stayed silent, aware that the couple was acting sorta strange but also not so sure that you were the cause. You took your wine in one hand and a plate of appetizers in the other, motioning for Lisa to grab the rest and follow you.
When you both entered the living room, you were thrilled to spot Jungkook sitting alone on one of the loveseats. You quickly set the food down and pulled Lisa along with you, approaching him with a friendly smile meant to put him at ease. Considering the way his eyes widened at the sight of your friend, you didn’t know how successful you were.
“Hey Jungkook, it’s been a while!” You greeted.
“Y-Yeah it has been. How’s your erm, book going?”
“It’s doing okay, thanks for asking. Have you met my friend, Lisa?”
He briefly scanned your friend, nervously gulping before saying quietly, “…No I haven't.”
“Oh well, Lisa was just saying how much she liked your tattoos.” You nudged her, prompting her to say something.
She just nodded in agreement, suddenly meek.
He blushed, “Thank you.”
“Actually, Lisa, weren't you saying that you were thinking of getting a tattoo?” You pretended to think out loud, as if you weren’t outright playing them. You didn’t wait for her to answer the rhetorical question, “Jungkook, don’t you do tattoos now?”
Now on a topic of interest he was for sure confident in, Jungkook practically jumped in his seat, “Yeah! I do! I’ve only tatted myself and some friends but I hope to work on more people.”
You watched with a smirk as Lisa moved to sit next to Jungkook, her now explaining what she’d like done and Jungkook asking questions about placement, size and color.
You felt sure enough in them to leave them alone, now inhabiting your little corner as you finished your wine while taking in the scene.
Yoongi and Molly stood by the window, and were obviously the most inebriated. He was the type to ramble pointlessly when tipsy, and she giggled at every little thing he said, playfully shoving his shoulder once in a while. You knew for a fact that Yoongi was too deep in his own self-epiphanes to notice her bad flirting, either that or he was just trying to talk to anyone who was willing to listen.
Namjoon and Jennifer were sitting on the couch and talking to Jin, laughing at whatever odd impression he was attempting. Beside them on the loveseat, Hoseok was politely nodding along to small talk from Jimin. Being one of the friendliest and most calming of the group, it made sense that Hoseok was the one trying to make your ex boyfriend feel included.
Content to just watch your guests for a while, you stood by your lonesome and slowly sipped at the remnants of your wine.
Playing host wasn’t exactly your forte, so you were enjoying the little lull while it lasted. Unlike your boyfriend, your social battery tended to max out at the two-hour mark when in group settings.
And as much as you loved the people in your home (with maybe the exception of your ex and his girlfriend), you couldn’t wait for them to get out so you could take a long, hot shower and head to bed.
The stress of the last few days was really tiring you, and you just knew that as soon as the excitement of the showing and sold paintings wore off, Taehyung was going to continue his spat with you about the cameras.
When you and Jimin dated, you two were always on the same page. Fights very rarely happened. And Jimin was such a people pleaser that if literally anything slightly upset you, he would practically fall over himself to make you smile again.
Taehyung was the first boyfriend to genuinely pick a fight with you, being more stubborn than you about matters you didn’t necessarily want to back down from either. Your relationship conflict resolution skills were being tested, and you just didn’t have the patience or experience to keep fighting much longer. You would call a truce or some type of compromise, if it weren’t for the fact that there was no way to really keep both of you happy.
A few minutes passed as you pondered this to yourself.
Seemingly materializing out of nowhere, a mysterious arm wrapped around your waist.
The suddenness of it all caused you to jump and release a very unflattering squeak.
Speak of the devil and he shall appear.
A deep chuckle rumbled beside you, Taehyung smirking lazily before diving face first into your neck and nuzzling it in some sort of drunken stupor.
“Don’t sneak up on me like that!” You groaned, trying to forcefully shove his face away from you. “Where’s the beer you went to fetch?”
Your boyfriend expertly dodged your shove and dove back into your neck, mumbling against the skin something about not being able to find more drinks.
The vibration of his lips on such a sensitive spot made you want to squirm, but his halfhearted mumbles took your attention a bit more.
“No beer? I could’ve sworn-”
“Hey Y/n!” Someone interrupted with a call across the room. You looked up to see Lisa trudging over with a determined look on her face and a fogged up look in her eyes, perhaps a bit more tipsy than you remember leaving her. “Aren’t you going to show me where exactly you saw the ghost?”
Your dear friend most likely thought she was being discreet and having a normal conversation at a perfectly appropriate tone. But no, she was actually speaking way above a conversational volume, causing everyone else in the room to halt their conversations and turn to look at you.
“Ghost?” Jin laughed.
“You saw something in this room?” Hoseok inquired with a trembling voice, most likely regretting having come over. Beside him, Jimin quietly shook his head to himself.
“No way, Y/n doesn’t believe in stuff like that.” Your ex confidently informed the group.
At the sound of your past lover’s voice, you felt Taehyung stiffen beside you. The artist untangled himself from you, standing to his full height and facing the guest with an unknown expression.
“We had a little bit of a ghost problem, but it’s taken care of now.” He paused, and you could nearly hear his smirk when he went on to declare, “I got rid of it.”
Yoongi laughed boisterously, having to hold himself up with the wall to prevent falling over. “I’m sorry, but the image of little Tae boxing a little sheet with two holes for eyes is really sending me.”
Half your guests laughed at the thought. The other more believing half still stared at you inquisitively.
An awkward silence.
“Ghosts are real.” Jennifer started, effortlessly drawing all eyes to her. “I used to live in a haunted house when I was a kid.”
She put her drink down and folded her hands across her lap, suddenly immersed in thought and careful about what she was about to share.
“In my childhood home, there was a garden in the backyard. Almost everyday, at sunset, I’d look out the window and see this lady circling the flowers and humming to herself. After ten minutes or so, she would disappear into thin air. I told my parents but they never believed me.”
She paused, either for dramatic effect or to recollect.
“Until one day, my mom saw her too. And when she went out to confront what she thought was an intruder, the lady disappeared before her eyes. My mom then did some digging about the history of the house and it turns out, the previous owner was outside gardening when she had a heart attack and died.”
A pregnant pause hung in the air as everyone silently digested the anecdote.
“That’s fucking terrifying, please tell me your parents moved houses after that.” Hoseok broke the silence first, pleading with watery eyes.
Namjoon’s wife laughed, reaching for her drink once more. “How is it scary? The lady was just checking on her garden in the afterlife. However, I then grew up really interested in supernatural stuff.” She turned to you. “There’s some tell-tale signs that a home has a spirit attached to it. Cold spots, shadow figures, whispers, scary dreams and the biggest of all: always feeling like you're being watched, even if there’s no one else in the room.”
You quietly thought to yourself. Were there any cold spots in the home? No. Any shadow figures? Nope. Whispers and nightmares? Nada.
But…the last one, being watched when no one is there.
If you really focused on your intuition, you faintly felt that even now amongst all these people, you were being watched by something unknown.
Goosebumps raised on the surface of your arms.
Chills ran down your spine and you shivered, the reaction causing Taehyung to grasp you tighter against him in what was supposed to be comfort.
You felt even more cold.
“We haven’t had any of that. Really guys, it’s taken care of.” Your boyfriend told the room, effectively shutting down the paranormal subject.
You assumed Taehyung felt a bit defensive of his ghost expelling skills, either that or he genuinely wanted another topic of discussion.
You then felt a little bad, it was still his night after all and here you were unintentionally ruining it with your little ghost stories. The focus of the room should be on him and his achievements, not everyone's supernatural beliefs and stories.
“Taehyung is right, it’s all resolved. But I’d like to ask all of you to fill up your glasses one last time, and raise them with me, ” While they did that you quickly scanned the room, “Um, except maybe you, Yoongi. Feel free to sit this one out, bud.” You laughed as the drunk man just grumbled at you, defiantly snatching another beer and holding it high while swaying on his feet.
Hopefully he wasn’t the one driving home.
You cleared your throat, “I'd like to propose a toast to our own Taehyung. Everyone in this room knows it was only a matter of time before your artistic genius was recognized by the world, but that doesn’t make us any less proud than we are of you tonight. To the first of many showings! To Taehyung!”
“To Taehyung!” the room loudly parroted back, everyone thrusting their drinks of choice in the air before knocking them back.
The artist beside you laughed and shook his head, “Really, guys it’s no big deal. Just a few paintings that I’m lucky even got sold. But thanks so much for making it. Most of you-” he snapped a side eye where Jimin sat, “have supported me so much, I’m just happy to have such a great group of friends.”
Said friends all smiled and nodded, although a few caught on to Taehyung’s subliminal dig and warily looked over at your ex.
Jimin pursed a tight smile, clearly trying to be nice and not make it obvious that he was the outsider at the party. You caught his eye and shot him a sorry look, but he shook his head in what was clearly meant to say “don’t worry about it.”
Your boyfriend continued, “However! ‘Friends’ don’t really beat ‘love of my life’. So without getting into all the lewd details of how I plan to spend my night celebrating, I’m going to need you all to start clearing out,” Taehyung smirked. “Y/n is a screamer.”
“Ew!” Lisa shouted, beside her Jungkook was suddenly unable to make eye contact with you.
The older men in the room just cackled. You slapped the artist's chest while trying to hide your blood red face.
Taehyung ducked and mouthed at your ear to whisper, “Sorry baby, but you know it’s true. And don’t act like you don’t want them out sooner rather than later.”
You wanted to be mad, but understood he was tipsy and riding on the high of his showing. So instead you played along and harshly whispered to him, “I doubt you can make me scream tonight. It’s not right to be misleading to your friends.”
He tiled your head to make you face him.
Taehyungs’ left brow twitched in vexation, his lips pulling back in a little growl. He looked around to make sure the guests were distracted with finishing their drinks or saying their goodbyes to each other. When he confirmed no eyes were on you two, he secretly placed his hand at the back of your head, running his long fingers through your hair and stopping right at the ends, to quickly form a fist and pull.
It was just one short tug, but the power of it made you gasp.
You would be lying if you said it didn’t make you a little wet too.
You had no idea where this came from. He never pulled your hair. Your boyfriend wasn’t rough and was one of those really progressive artists types that viewed any kind of manhandling in the bedroom as sort of sexist. But when you peered up at him, with the doe eyes he said he loved so much, and saw the clouded nature of his gaze, you just knew that inebriated Tae was very different from sober Tae.
Black and white, really.
‘I’m in for quite the night’ you thought to yourself while biting your lip, inwardly smug at how Taehyung transparently honed in on the action.
“Um, hey I think I’ll take my leave first.” You looked up to see Jimin awkwardly shifting in front of you two, a blacked out Molly in his hold.
“Oh god! Is she okay?” You exclaimed, noting the poor girl looked dead.
The dancer chuckled, “Yeah, she just gets really hyper when she's drunk then passes out after a bit. Ironically, sleep is all she needs I guess since she always wakes up good as new. No hangover.”
“Here let me show you out. I can help put her in the car.” You offered, already detangling yourself from Taehyung. He made a small sound of protest and made move to hold you tighter.
You placed a hand on his shoulder and consoled him with a smile, “You wanted people to leave, so we should help everyone get home safe. Can you check on Yoongi and maybe see if Namjoon and Jennifer can take him home?”
He looked conflicted, carefully sizing Jimin up through his peripheral. You wanted to roll your eyes. Although tipsy Taehyung was apparently a sexy beast, he was also an immature toddler who needed to be tricked.
You got on your tippy toes to whisper in his ear, “The quicker we get people out, the quicker you get me all to yourself.”
That seemed to convince him as he reluctantly stomped away in the direction of the couple, shooting one more guarded look at the dancer.
With that you led Jimin to the front door, even helping him put Molly’s heels back on before stepping out into the driveway and walking him to his car.
Silently, he opened the car and laid her in the backseat, tucking her in with his jacket. Then he shut the door, but instead of walking around to the driver spot, he turned to you and sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck.
“So….”
“Look, I’m sorry about Taehyung. I didn’t even tell him you were an ex but he’s just been really possessive and weird lately. It’s not just you.” You informed him, hoping to make him feel better.
Jimin just waved it off with a chuckle, “No, I get it. You’re really gorgeous, kind and talented. I also struggled with jealousy when we were together. Can’t really blame him.”
You hoped your blush wasn’t too prominent as you said, “Yeah, but you were always nice to people regardless of feeling possessive. He was just rude. Again, I’m sorry.”
“Well, you can’t really date someone breathtaking if you’re going to be an insecure prick about it.”
You gaped like a fish at the implication you were still breathtaking in Jimin’s eyes. Words were suddenly hard to come by.
It was silent for a moment, the tension between you two as thick as it can possibly get for two past lovers.
“Y/n…why didn’t you tell him we dated?”
“L-Like I said, he’s already been acting jealous and I didn’t want him to focus on that when it was his night. Besides, It’s not like-”
“I broke up with Molly.”
“…What?”
“It happened on the way to your after party, she was upset that I still held a candle for you. And yeah, I couldn’t drag her along when I never felt half of what I felt for you, for her. I just said it without thinking, terrible timing of course. But that’s pretty on brand for me, I suppose.” He attempted a joke.
You smiled politely, although you had no idea how you should feel.
He continued, “I just thought I should say sorry because the reason she was such a drunk and sloppy mess in your home was because I carelessly dumped her on the way there.”
“It’s um, okay Jimin. She wasn’t the only drunken mess tonight. I hope you two manage to stay friends.” You said, then after a beat added, “And that you find what you’re looking for.”
“Listen, I know you're with Taehyung and happy but, I think there was some kind of misunderstanding about our breakup. I’m not trying to be a homewrecker or anything, but can we get a coffee sometime and just…talk?”
You smiled, finding no harm in the offer. “Sure-”
“No.”
You gasped and whipped around to see Taehyung standing behind you, arms crossed and hell in his eyes as he glowered down at Jimin.
How did he get there without being spotted or heard?
It's like he fabricated out of nowhere.
“I suggest you get in your car, leave and never speak to her again.”
Your ex held his hands up in surrender, “Look man, I wasn’t trying anything-”
“What kind of guy goes to their ex when she’s clearly in a happy and healthy relationship, and tries to drudge up the past in the name of closure? Fuck your closure. You lost her, and now I have her. And trust me, she has better things to do than getting coffee with the guy who broke her heart.”
“Please, Taehyung-”
You were cut off.
His voice was the lowest you’ve ever heard it, eyes pitch black and face blank as he calmly finished, “It’s pathetic. You’re pathetic. And if I see you again I’m going to break your kneecaps and skin you alive, you little spineless boy. Run along now. While you still can.”
The threats were so visceral and promising, coupled with a man who looked downright murderous yet somehow calm. As if he had done it before and doing it again would be more so an inconvenience than a whole life-ending ordeal.
In this moment, you didn’t know your own boyfriend and you were terrified with this new persona.
No one moved or spoke, in fear one step or word would make Taehyung good on his promise.
You and Jimin were paralyzed, like two helpless deer in the presence of a blood thirsty wolf, the only hope was to stay still and go unnoticed. You met your ex’s eyes and while he did look afraid, he was focused only on you and your proximity to Taehyung.
Jimin was fearful. Not for himself, but for you.
And while you wanted your ex to run away, you were also scared to be left alone with someone so different from your usual Taehyung.
How could a few drinks and some jealousy cause such a behavior?
“Hey what’s going on here?”
Namjoon and Jennifer were babysitting a toddling Yoongi, the couple was also making way to their vehicle when they spotted the scene. The so-called ‘leader’ of the gang was quick to pick up on Taehyung’s aggressive stance, probably prompting him to get involved.
You felt your body lighten in relief.
Namjoon was always good at calming people down and taking control of situations.
Like a switch was turned on, your boyfriend grinned at the oncomers and nodded over at the dancer. Seemingly happy as a clam he chirped, “Nothing, hyung! Jimin here was just leaving. His poor girlfriend had too much, I think.”
Namjoon didn’t quite believe that, you and Jimin still looked rigid with alarm after all. Nonetheless, he played along for everyone’s sake. “Really? Maybe you should leave now then Jimin, get her in bed as soon as possible. It was nice meeting you.”
Jimin took the hint with grace and wordlessly ducked into his car, not acknowledging anyone else as he mouthed to you “call me”.
He started up the car, then slowly backed out of the driveway, and eventually down the road.
“Dude, are you sure you’re okay? It looked like you wanted to kill him.” Namjoon asked the artist.
Before hearing whatever bullshit was going to spew out of his mouth next, you promptly whipped around and stormed back into the house, making sure to purposefully shoulder-check your boyfriend as hard as you could in the process.
What the fuck was wrong with the bastard?!
Talking as though he was some offender or even a murder, just because your ex wanted to catch up?
You were so dreadfully embarrassed! Jimin must’ve thought you lost your mind after him and went off to date some real weirdos.
If you weren’t already on a lease with the man, this probably would’ve been the part where you blocked him and made it your personal mission to never see him again.
Instead, you busied yourself in the kitchen and washed most of the dirty dishes your guests left behind. You hoped Taehyung was wise enough to leave you alone, if the jerk knew what was good for him.
About 15 minutes had passed, and the kitchen was nearly as spotless as it was before the party had started, thanks to your furious cleaning and scrubbing. The house was now silent, and you were just debating putting all your spices in alphabetical order when you heard a shuffle behind you.
You snapped around and instantly scoffed at the sight.
Taehyung was leaning against the doorframe, hands in his pockets and fixing a sheepish look at you.
“So…that got a little out of hand.”
You barked a disbelieving laugh. “More like you got out of hand, Taehyung. Threatening people like you’re some felon! Wouldn't be a surprise if there’s a rumor spreading about me dating a serial killer now."
“Y/n, I’m sorry. But please let me make it up to you.”
“Make it up to me? Your actions cannot be undone Taehyung! I cooked and cleaned after your friends and tried to make this night special for you. I just wanted you to have a nice night and be nice, and you flip out over a platonic coffee date? Who do you think I am? A slut who will open her legs to any ex who talks to me?!”
“W-what? No- Of course not! Please don’t think-”
“What the hell am I supposed to think, asshole?! Even if Jimin still had feelings for me, it would take me reciprocating them for anything to happen! You clearly don’t trust me, and if that’s the case, then what are we doing here? Should we just become roommates or something?”
A painful struck his face, watery eyes met yours when he choked out, “Do you even hear yourself? Why would I try to fight your ex if I truly didn’t love you? You’re mine, and I love you so much it’s just…I can act a little crazy sometimes.”
You sighed, turning your back on him to lean on the sink in exhaustion.
“I thought you were different from other guys, Tae. That caveman shit is extremely degrading to not only you, but especially me.”
“I’m sorry…it’s just a primal part of me that I can’t turn off. Give me a chance to make it up to you.”
You shot a look over your shoulder at him, still pissed.
He shot his hands up in the air, as if in defense. “You can still be mad at me all you want.”
“You’re sleeping on the couch for a week.”
“Done.”
“And….And you’re forgetting all about those stupid cameras.”
He quirked a grin, unknown mirth dancing in his eyes. “Sure.”
“At the end of the week, you will personally apologize to Jimin via a phone call or letter.”
His smile dropped, your glare sharpened, “Umm..fine okay. It won’t be sincere though.”
You rolled your eyes, “Doesn’t have to be, it’s the right thing to do so you’ll do it.”
“…anything else?”
“Not for now. I’m going to bed soon so if there’s anything you need from the room, get it now.”
He wordlessly turned around, and you then faintly heard him going up the stairs.
Biting your lip in deep thought, you proceed to wipe off the last of the counters.
Could you forgive him? When he was willing to do all that to appease you?
If you were being honest with yourself, you could feel the irritation already start to melt away a bit. You hadn’t expected such a 180 in his stance, he went from threatening Jimin with murder to begrudgingly agreeing to apologize within only a matter of half an hour or so. You thought you would have to at least give him the silent treatment for a bit before you could even bargain a “sorry” for your ex. Taehyung was usually much more stubborn…
Nonetheless though, you were still upset and embarrassed about the scene.
You hated when men got violent around you, it made you feel so unsafe and small. You thought Taehyung was different, him even poking fun at the meatheads who would pull stuff like that at the local bars you would frequent while dating. So what changed?
Footsteps slowly descended back down the stairs, telling you that Taehyung had returned from your bedroom and it was safe to go up.
You left the kitchen, turned off the lights and passed through the hallway. Briefly you stopped, just short of the stairs, to see your boyfriend grumbling to himself while arranging some blankets on the couch.
A sudden and chilling thought ripped from your lips before you could even quietly ponder it.
“Taehyung…how did you know Jimin was my ex?”
He stopped in his tracks, slowly turning to face you with a blank look.
“Uh, Lisa might have slipped up and told me.”
You relaxed, unknowingly releasing a breath you had been holding. “Hmm, okay. We’ll talk tomorrow then. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight baby.”
“Oh! Let me get some water first, can you check that the doors were locked?” You asked while skipping back towards the kitchen. You hated waking up with a dry mouth and always kept a glass of water on your nightstand, restless bathroom trips be damned.
You didn’t hear any response to your request, but you paid it no mind, assuming Tae probably already double, if not triple, checked the locks being the worrywart that he was.
Right next to the kitchen entrance was the basement door, and it was shut.
Yet, something stopped you in your tracks.
The light under the basement door…it was on?
“Well I don’t have any more beer up here. Just wine. There might be some more in the basement, though.”
It couldn’t be….could it?
Your intuition was hollering at you from within.
A force greater than you pulled you to the door handle.
Against yourself, you opened the door to the basement…
And choked back a horrified scream.
At the bottom of the stairs lay Taehyung.
Unconscious, pale and bleeding horrifically from some head wound that was forming an inky pool under his crumpled form.
It wasn’t your Taehyung that returned upstairs.
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So...this has been sitting in my drafts for over a year lol. I do have a dramatic ending in mind and some final scenes but yea, I don't think I could finish this unless people actually wanted it so let me know if this is a plot you kinda liked? I never tried flat-out supernatural horror like this. Anyway, happy October guys! Love you all. Luna :)
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rowretro · 4 months
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𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐄𝐍𝐇𝐘𝐏𝐄𝐍 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍
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✧GIFS AND IMAGES DO NOT BELONG TO ME✧
✧warnings: toxic/yandere themes, harassment, violence, stalking and ofc bullying
✧synopsis: Yandere Enhypen as your bullies, they find out a boy likes you and you may like that boy back hence they snapped...
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✧LEE HEESEUNG✧
To think that he would even let the boy to cross paths with you, you must have been stupid. God Heeseung is so in love with you to the extent of wanting all your attention on him. What better way is there to have him under your control is there than to bully you?
You were used to this by now, the slapping, the ripping up your homework, the harsh slut shaming, and the way he made sure you were isolated from everyone. But when he saw you pull out an envelope with a box of your favourite chocolates in your locker, boy was he mad...
Within seconds, the gifts were smacked out of your hand as you found yourself being pinned harshly against the locker, your head felt extremely painful from the impact. "Fuck I know I kept calling you a whore but I expected you NOT to be one Lee y/n." The man seethed through gritted teeth as he yanked your hair back, his other hand sliding underneath your shirt, You were quite taken aback by this rough behaviour and the change in surname.
"You're fucking mine don't you get it at this point?!" Heeseung spat as the girl frowned. "Heeseung- but-" before you can even dare to continue that sentence, he kissed you forcefully, saliva dripping down your jaw as it mixed with your tears and his saliva. "Like it or not you are mine." The man spat lastly
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✧PARK JONGSEONG✧
Being such a rich, smart, spoiled son of one of the biggest CEOs in South Korea, Jay always got his way around everything. He was always cocky and he loved how little everyone looked around him. His eyes then landed on you. The most innocent, pure looking sweetheart. Since the day he laid eyes on you he knew you were his. Hence he did everything to keep you to yourself.
It started off accidentally. He wanted to be nice but he accidentally pulled her hair. Seeing how she yelped, tearing up a little, he fell in deeper love with the sight. Since then he continuously yanks her hair, says hurtful things and embarrasses you every chance he gets. Recently, Jay caught sight of a boy and you. His blood boiling at the sight of you two giggling together.
He was extremely pissed off dragging you away from the male, and to his car despite your cries and protests, he simply pushed you in, cuffing you to the side as he got into the driver's seat. "JAY- WHAT THE HECK?!" You finally screamed as he started driving. "Sorry pretty baby... Have to take you to your new home, it seems you're forgetting who you belong to..." He trailed off with a smirk.
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✧SIM JAEYUN✧
Jake wasn't known for being violent or rude, but he was pretty popular among the girls. However, he only had his interest in one woman. You. Every time you'd walk past he'd smack or grope you. The male loves getting you into detention where you'll be stuck with him alone.
Recently, you had been coming to school feeling a little happier despite his antics, which Jake obviously found suspicious. The man stalked you home, only to see Haruto, one of the boys in your class, walking with you. Jake scoffed to himself, smirking as he walked to his home.
The next morning, you were met with Jake's car parked at the entrance of your home. the man yanked you in driving you to his place. Jake pulled you out, dragging you to the basement where he chained you up against the wall. "Welcome to your new home darling... Of course your room is much prettier but for you to see that Why for now..." Jake trailed off, fiddling with his knife. "you deserve a punishment for being such a slut." He darkly said.
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✧PARK SUNGHOON✧
Park Sunghoon was equally as intimidating as he is pretty, girls swoon over him on a daily basis, but will never approach him. Why would they when anyone he touches ends up dead... except for you. The only girl he has spared. Sunghoon hated people so much, he loved to kill for a living, and no one dared to take action for He was the very son of an extremely dangerous mafia boss.
Sunghoon however felt something different when he met you... for the first time in his life he experienced love and only one woman can give him that... you. So he did everything and anything to get your attention, he loved seeing you cry and scream and beg just for him. Heck when he saw that boy ask you out... the boy died on the spot.
Sunghoon yanked you to an empty classroom slamming you against the table as he slapped you. "FUCKING SMILLING AT THAT BASTARD?! WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU ACCEPT THAT SHITTY BOQUET WHEN IM HERE WITH EVERYTHING A WOMAN NEEDS?!" Sunghoon yelled, yanking her hair as he kissed her, his fangs stabbing her lips as he kissed her so painfully. "You're fucking mine hmm? everything you do is for me." he mumbled, as he stroked her cheek.
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✧KIM SUNOO✧
The boy is pretty sassy, everyone knows that. However people weren't to fond of talking to him after seeing how he treats you. Sure he runs his mouth spitting vulgar, heart breaking words at you, but he always follows it up with some violence. But can you blame him?He's obsessed with you, god the way you whimper and cry, how cute you looked when putting ur arms out, trying to stop him.
Like those cute little hands can do anything to stop him from throwing a chair at you. Oh but you really crossed the line when you smiled with Jaemin. The senior who obviously has a thing for you. Sunoo beat the living shit out of Jaemin, before carrying you away. You tried to kick and punch, but you couldn't get him to budge. He threw you on the floor of his living room as he took off his belt.
The man showed no mercy as he continuously belted you, his eyes bloodshot with anger "HOW. FUCKING. DARE. YOU." He yelled between the hits. He threw his belt away, as you snuggled into the sofa, hugging your knees as Sunoo breathed heavily. He suddenly knelt down before you, grabbing your jaw to make you face him "Oh no sweetheart im sorry, I know it hurt put I had to punish you sweetheart... you need to know you're mine hmm?" He asked, oh so sweetly...
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✧YANG JUNGWON✧
Jungwon is crazy in love with you, but he couldn't just show it.... he can't be seen as weak to you. Instead, he expressed his undying love by embarrassing you in front of students, making you cry with his words. He loves it, Now he knows you cry and scream just because of him...
Jungwon frowned when he saw Choi Yeonjun check you out, clearly having something for you. He didn't even fail to notice How you smiled at him too. Bad move. Bad bad move. How dare you fall for someone like that when he's there waiting for you?! He could deal with Yeonjun later. Right now... he needed to put you in your place.
As you walked into the locker room, to put you books in your locker, you suddenly get slammed against the locker, the sound of the room door locking evidently heard. The man turned you around so you could face him, his eyes piercing into yours as he grabbed your jaw "What?... expecting Yeonjun?!" He asked, bitterly as you frowned. Jungwon forced his lips onto yours, kissing you extremely roughly before pulling away and slapping you painfully. "You're fucking mine dont you dare look at other men... you do not want to know what im capable of darling..." he trailed off.
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✧NISHIMURA RIKI✧
Riki was pretty young, youngest in his friendship group, often being babied, but he hated that hence he always wore that cold façade. It was no surprise he was cold to you too, except... he still always put his attention on you. Whether its tripping you over, accusing you of random shit and slapping you ever so painfully, yanking your hair and forcefully kissing you out of the blue.
You hated it. You hated him. But Riki was madly in love with you. That's why he continuously tortured you. That's also why you saw him stabbing an already dead Sungchan who was flirting with you by the lockers. Riki was covered in blood, his psychotic blank eyes now landing on yours. "Awww sweetheart did I scare you?..." He taunted, chuckling as he smeared the blood on your cheek.
Oh how cute you looked being so scared of him, the way you fainted there and then, falling in his arms. Riki smirked, kissing you all over "Finally mine, all mine princess... you're right in my arms where I need you... where you belong and be safe my darling..." Riki smirked, carrying you to his home.
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