#(The end always felt a bit victim blame-y to me but I'm not sure if its just poor translating or ... Reflective Of the Times yeah) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

persephoneyss · 3 years

Text

Bad Movie.

Pairing: Jung Hoseok x f! Reader. Ft. Jungkook.

Genre: Yandere, dark themes, angst, gore a little.

Summary: ❝Looking for the person you love, beautiful woman.❞

Warnings: Yandere behavior, obsession, harassment / stalking, humiliation, forced marriage, non-sexual intercourse, abuse of power, implicit murder, drug use naming, minor past master / pet relationships, secondary character abduction, ugly hallucinating hoseok , beatings, blood, photos depicting abuse, mistreatment and death, bribery, sexism and humiliation (directly aimed at female prostitutes), hoseok mistreats and humiliates jk, awkward marriage proposals, use namjoon as a secondary character because it hurts more:(, etc.

Number of words: 6000+

︙Author's Note: This is my longest fic so far, I think. It took a lot for me to do it, especially since I didn't have a clear idea about the whole plot that would take and the role that each character would develop. So if you see Jungkook in a kind of strange character, blame my mind for including him almost last. Also, I hate Hoseok in this fic. Namjoon angel and fallen soldier, by the way let me know if they cried with his death, it hurt me to write it. Thank you very much for the 200 notes in my previous fic, I'm crying.

Read the Warnings well and enjoy!

(Sorry for any mistakes, my first language is not English and I am not fluent either.)

Puedes leer este fic y más aquí en español.

Confidence, a beautiful and treacherous feeling at times.

Feeling superior is a constant whisper of the ego within you, calling to be released and make others feel as what they really are, despicable and useless trash. It was fun laughing at losers when you haven't had that sense of defeat yet.

Hoseok fervently watched his rivals fall at his feet, laughing at his incompetence and stomping even more pathetic defeated form even though they were already dead in tears of pain. He smiled, he always did when he felt invincible and He bit his lip gently to hold back an excited laugh.

No one could be compared to him, and in his high sense of power he could never be alert when he struck him with a blast of vengeance.

It was you.

His eyes stared at you in horror and anger, his ego inside him hated you from the first moment. Because while despicable, he loved you for much more than his pride and winning sense.

He fell at your feet but he never made you notice it, behaving as he normally would around you even though he was always behind you.

Luck was her greatest ally, he always smiled at her and she helped him. It was fun to play with your opponents pretending to be the victim, the cornered mouse and then smash everyone with a snap of your fingers.

His mother looked at him with love and his father with pride, he was the only and favorite son of the Jung family. His success was never derived from love, much less, it was blasphemy in his family to say something so false and impossible.

Hoseok admired his family when they met in the great message of his parents' house, his grandparents smiled and his relatives brought out their most exquisite stories to entertain. They were all crows pretending to show interest in a prestigious place in the will of the family's monarch, his grandfather.

It was at one of those dinners that he got to meet you, he used to get bored of hearing his cousins tell their anecdotes with prostitute women who mostly called, whores of a night. Mocking their shocked faces when they refused to pay them and threw them out of their big luxurious houses.

He rolled his eyes when a family friend, little Jungkook who was known to his father because of his prestige in his last name, chimed in trying to get into the conversation with a shy smile.

Lucky bastard, he thought bitterly. He didn't like the little idiot sticking his hands in boiling water, he wasn't even supposed to be there.

He hummed a goodbye as he walked out the front doors, walking aimlessly to his bored eyes. His feet stopped abruptly with a strangled sigh when he first saw you, you looked tired as you apparently searched for a key inside your bag. Could visualize the logo on your shirt from the grocery store where he assumed you were employed, He stood looking for what seemed like an eternity at you before you find the keys and rush through the back door. He snorted before lazily continuing on his way, however the next day he ended up following in your footsteps again and with even more confidence.

It took a few weeks for him to be able to enter the small commerce store and be able to look you face to face for the first time, it was expected that you would serve him with a smile asking if he was offered something. But he did not see you anywhere, he looked for you before another equally young woman approached him kindly, he sighed making a face of disgust surprising the she worker, his expensive shoes got dirty on the floors of the humble place with shame. His little investigation and search took him through many corridors of the establishment, he observed the shelves and each person who seemed to be wearing the uniform of the store thinking of finding you distracted with your work, maybe he thought of approaching you and asking for directions which he clearly didn't need. Knowing that she you couldn't refuse because that was your job. In a way, you were there to serve him.

He let out a bored sigh, tired of playing hide and seek, he turned around ready to leave that place that disgusted him so much in a certain way, but once again he stopped in an instant. It was a moan. He clenched his fists, walking hurriedly to the place where the noise came from, he was sure it was your voice and that made him even more angry thinking that he would find you in a compromising position with someone.

He did not think that his lover would be such a stupid and dirty person.

You were crouched on the floor, grimacing with pain and exhaustion. You seemed very annoyed trying to lift a box with your arms, the scene was tender and certainly pathetic, she smiled noticing that you were so distracted that you were never aware of how I was watching you with carnal desire and painfully bad adoration.

"I-can I help you." He was surprised at his little babble, justifying himself later. Nobody ever managed to make him nervous, his father used to despise weak people and certainly he always sought his approval by doing things that were not correct. "They seem heavy."

Your face pale before the scare, turning into a face of shame quickly, you shook your head with a gentle movement, smiling still pained. "I'm fine sir. Can I help you? Maybe he got lost, let me guide-..."

"Actually, I do need help but not with your services." I speak in disagreement, you seemed confused but she nodded at his request. The customer is always right, right? How convenient. "I need you to allow me to help you with that heavy box, not to be rude or calling you weak miss, but you can't seem to handle it."

Lie, under his politically correct excuse was a dialogue about how insufficient you are even with things as easy and common as carrying a box, obviously you needed his help and Hoseok could give you that and more, much more. You just had to say it, it was so simple and fun.

"I -... I can do it, but i will accept your help sir ..." He smiled making an emphasis for he to give him his name, he let out a small laugh finishing his sentence.

“Hoseok, you can call me Hoseok, darling..." He mock imitating his position, your name left your lips like a melody and he immediately felt the sweet taste of it slide down his tongue. Beautifully perfect, indeed. "Now that we can finish the introductions please allow me."

Her expensive outfit crumpled as she bent down to lift the box with ease, you were once again oblivious to her incoherent and certainly crazy fantasies, it was like a romance comedy movie in her eyes. The charming fellow always stays with the girl. And likewise, no one could go against the fictional plot.

He was immersed in the beautiful narrative that you would be hers at the end of the credits.

It was not the last time she saw you, she returned to her same routine of continuing to stalk you with obvious impudence. The only thing that really changed was her new setting and her character, he was hiding between the shelves waiting for the right moment to appear in front of you with a charming smile. Over and over, he was locked in an infinite loop.

He was starting to get tired of just having you in his arms and sheets just in his heavy and lustful dreams.

"A date? How funny Hoseok."

His face twisted in annoyance, but he put on a fake smile again when you looked at him again. "Hobi." He corrected in a high-pitched voice, insisting that you call him that. "And she spoke very seriously my dear, everything is ready."

"Eh ... I -..." A simple wave of her hands was enough to shut you up, you frown in confusion and secretly disgusted.

"On Saturday, I'll send you the address of the restaurant. Goodbye, dear!"

You watch it for a few seconds but he's already gone, you resign yourself to continuing with your work of ordering the products on the shelves. Thinking and trying to remember when you gave him your number. A very characteristic noise distracts you, a call makes you smile with love and adoration.

The plot is taking an interesting turn.

Hoseok was charming by nature, his economic position made him even more desirable to the opposite gender and even his own. It was not strange to see people flirting with him or being suggestive with his proposals, he was on a pedestal and he enjoyed it. His subconscious whispered a little bored. I couldn't deny that he became boring in a way, but you appeared in the story as an extra who soon became a main character. You changed the script of his life already established and narrated.

You were so funny.

He smiled in front of the mirror when he thought of you, since he met you that day he started chatting with you secretly from your supervisor. You had told him several anecdotes to make him laugh, you were also naturally charming pulling out various expressions of adoration that you did not even notice. Oblivious to that, you'd better get ready for the climax of the movie.

The wind was strong in the streets of Seoul, your hair was noticeably messy causing you to let out a tired sigh. You should be planning your wedding banquet right now, but you honestly didn't want to leave Hoseok alone at the dinner he had organized. You put the invitation in your bag, thinking of giving it to her when the time was right with a smile. He seemed like a good person and undoubtedly a good friend in the future.

"You're on time, I was just about to order our food. Honey." The last word slid down his tongue with malice and arrogance, Hoseok inwardly chuckling at your disengaged expression.

"Thanks, but don't stop you can order for both." You say arranging your chair correctly.

The restaurant looked relatively empty, there were only three other people including a couple who ate dinner while chatting enthusiastically.

You smile unconsciously, thinking about what would also make you feel the same way.

"I was looking forward to this dinner, my dear. I also hoped I could tell you how much you have captivated me for a long time, specifically since the first day I saw you." And the others too, he thought shifting your posture.

"Thank you, I'm very flattered to cause that feeling ... in, good in you." You whisper clearly uncomfortable forcing yourself to stay calm. You were sure that you had never given a hint or anything else in Hoseok to establish romantic feelings. "But I-... "

"I know, darling. That is why I have to offer you the opportunity to be my girlfriend and my future wife."

Wife?

For a moment, you feel a rush through your body. You refuse to make a scene in front of all the few people present out of respect, you calm down by counting to ten slowly in your head, but it becomes very difficult for you as you continue to observe his comfortable smile and how he behaves. He seemed very sure of the affirmative respect you would give him, you snort angrily at the thought.

"I am sorry to have been misunderstood Mr. Hoseok, but I am not seeking a relationship with you and very sorry I reject any relationship beyond friendship." Your body lifts up, making Hoseok laugh well in advance of your final sentences. "I am engaged and my future husband is waiting for me, good afternoon."

Trembling, you leave the invitation in silence, leaving the luxurious premises in the same way. The waiters watching you with surprise, being an audience of rejection and humiliation on your part. Hoseok sighs, sipping his wine glass patiently pretending not to hear what the couple behind him are saying.

What a bad luck.

Life wanted to want to return all his damn vanity to him, making fun of him with your almost imminent rejection, obviously he knew that you were engaged and that you loved the poor man who had the bad luck to be his competition, but love is not always the important thing in a relationship or at least not of both parties. The voices of the waiters and the couple distract him from his plans for his next step, he clenches his fists angrily dropping the silverware on the plate calling the attention of everyone in the place.

"Filthy vulgar and talkative people, she will be my wife even if her words have been heard by her prying ears." He raised his voice, causing everyone to shut up. "It's just part of the script."

Maybe if the character who wanted to be the main loses the role of him, he should be the villain. The bad guy in the movie.

He read the invitation with meticulous delicacy, laughing at the little message you put aside. He thought about attending for a second, wondering if it would be nice to walk in to go straight to the altar and shoot your husband willing to take his place by your side. But that would be risky.

"Where are we going, sir?" He asked his driver with a smile.

"Take me to the best brothel in Seoul." He whispered delicately, smiling just as happily as before your rejection. I'd make you pay double the bill for your indulgence.

And likewise, the world is a truly small place. Jungkook nodded clearly uncomfortable obeying someone other than Mr. Jung. Hoseok cornered him like a helpless rabbit in the claws of a cunning fox, flashing his jaw in warning. He felt confused about his little assigned task, watching the direction pointing the right way to his chauffeur who only followed orders.

A small feeling of remorse ran through him, making him want to vomit when he remembered how Hoseok's face was so close to his with arrogance, as his hands roamed his arms gently. He was disgusting how he used his power to such a useless and demanding gain, sometimes without any realism.

"Little Jungkook, you have a very lovely name. I'm sorry I didn't tell you before, you were so insignificant that you seemed pathetic to me." He whispered making her wince. "My father told me that you are good at obeying, I would like to test his theory." His cold hands were constantly running down his arms, making a shiver run through his body. "Still remembering well, I already did it before."

Jungkook was weak under his cloak of power, where he could so easily hide it. Lose it. "Yes, h-hyung." An inappropriate moan came from his lips causing him to cover her mouth in shame, a little touch near his crotch was enough to tempt him. Hoseok smirked, narrowing his eyes before walking away slowly wiping his fingers on his expensive clothes in disgust.

"I want you to befriend someone, don't ask, just do it. I'll tell you your next step when you're done." He ordered bored.

"We are here, young Jeon." Notice Jimin with a smile, Jungkook sighed wearily thanking him before getting out of the car ready to fulfill his mission.

I observe him for a few seconds standing in the entrance without doing anything, he was cleaning the windows of the building with force. He seemed like a nice person, certainly a bit humble. He approached making the man bow respectfully, even though he was older. Money can buy everything, they say.

"I am young Jeon, a new investor. May I have a chat with you?"

The man was surprised, no one who was someone by name and a few numbers along with several zeros would be able to notice his presence and at least greet him. A coffee sounded more intimate and undoubtedly inconvenient for him, but again out of respect he accepted the offer with a smile adorning his features.

"My name is Jungkook informally, but I like you and you can call me that." He spoke kindly.

"Namjoon, Mr. Je -... I'm sorry, Jungkook." He corrected sheepishly, making her smile.

He still didn't understand that he planned to do Hoseok with a building cleaner, but he didn't feel in a position worth asking. Furthermore, he would still not receive an honest answer.

He passed by the same place every day, pretending to enter the building only so he could meet Mr. Kim and talk about unimportant subjects. He gained his trust almost immediately, promising that he would give her a better job soon at his own company. He felt like an idiot taking advantage of the man in front of him in such a way for a simple whim from Hoseok.

He was an idiot, but he didn't want to go back to what he was before. A pet.

"I'm very happy, I think she will make a good wife." He responded with encouragement, seeing how Namjoon nodded looking for a picture of his fiancée to show him. He seemed excited, Jungkook understood his happiness after he explained that he saved for a long time to achieve his dream of getting married in a church. They were both in it together, in looking for a future.

He got lost in his thoughts, maybe if he lied to Hoseok about gaining trust from him, saying that Namjoon was a very cold and quiet man, he could make him forget about it. He sighed squeezing the coffee cup in his hands, Namjoon caught his attention by showing a photo of you smiling at the camera with a background of the bridge and the sun behind making a beautiful background.

Jungkook became alert, having seen that face before.

Hoseok had you as the wallpaper on his phone, he knew it was you because of your characteristic features and the scarf you wore in both photos. You were the new fad of a rich fool.

"T-is ... She's so cute, you're very lucky."

Namjoon nodded with a smile, apologizing before returning to his work upon being called by his supervisor. Jungkook put aside his cup feeling the bitter taste of his thoughts, Hoseok was planning something, he knew he was a son of a bitch who liked to keep his plans under lock and key and in a deep grave. He walked away calling for Jimin quickly, before being accosted by Namjoon who came running over, seemingly forgetting something of the utmost importance.

"I apologized Mr. Jeon, but I wanted to give you this personally. It is an invitation, in addition to the proposal to be the best man at our wedding. My fiancee said that it would be appropriate for me to choose someone and I decided that you were perfect, you can decline if you prefer. . " He spoke kindly, as always. Namjoon seemed to have no hatred in his heart, making his own feel heavy on his chest.

Could he bear the blame?

"It's my pleasure to accept her proposal, thank you for considering me. Good afternoon, namjoon-hyung."

He said goodbye by getting into the car as fast as he could, making Jimin look at him with derision. Obviously noticing his nervousness, Jungkook sighed hiding the invitation as much as he could before reading Hoseok's message ordering him to go to his house to sort out his affairs.

It seemed like a joke as he always looked so flawless, ready to humiliate him again.

"Jungkookie, I'm glad to see you again. Now, we'd better come in for our talk." He smiled making anger grow inside him, Hoseok sat on one of his expensive furniture before pouring himself a glass of wine. "Well, I heard from a little bird that you accomplished your task. Good pet."

"Don't call me that, hyung." He grunted in annoyance, making him laugh. "I can't go through with this, I did what you wanted. Leave Namjoon-hyung alone."

"Oh, they're close now really cute. But you forget that I can't fulfill your wish, because "Namjoon-hyung " is an essential piece in my little game." I speak mocking him as always. "Then we will move on to the next step ..." He thinking for a moment, before snapping his fingers. "Invite him to a bachelor party night at the brothel in the center, I already made the reservation. When they are there, leave him alone. A whore will take care of him properly, and maybe you can go make him a oral another yourself." He sneered evilly, reminding her of his past, Jungkook bit his tongue resisting the urge to respond properly. "Since you're clearly good at it, little pet."

"Yes, hyung."

Hoseok nodded saying for him to leave asap, tired of seeing his stupid face. He got up ready to do so, but his arm was taken tightly before bringing his face closer to hers, Hoseok let out a sigh, doing he could smell his breath of mint and wine combined. His hand lowered him into his pockets dangerously close to his crotch, he bit his lower lip to resist a moan escaping him, this had happened before and he begged it to stop forever. From his pocket, she pulled the invitation out, making her gasp in horror.

"Godfather of wedding, new facet of you... kookie." Rolling he eyes pushing him away from him, he fell to the ground before being met by a blow to his cheek. "What a shitty pet, you idiot."

Two days was enough for you to tremble at the thought. Your dress was proud to be seen, it was the most comfortable dress you could find at a fair price. Namjoon tried to enter but he was stopped by your friend who said that he will wait until you keep the dress out of his sight avoiding bad luck. A smile wavered on your face, everything was perfect up to a point.

Namjoon looked at you, a blush covering his cheeks before asking his obvious question. You didn't expect him to want a bachelor party, but you couldn't refuse because you simply trusted him.

Maybe it was your mistake.

You wished him luck, feeling an inexplicable emptiness. Your friends didn't offer to make one for you, they just sat on the couch in their living room talking about movies and arguing about what color the cake would be. It was the calm before the storm.

Jungkook felt a giant headache, the lights of the place were making him dizzy. Jimin had insisted on going with him to such an 'unusual' place to keep him safe. Namjoon had brought a couple of friends who seemed to be always close to him preventing the woman who did the job Hoseok had him do from becoming difficult.

He smiled, thinking that he would have no choice but to let it go. But Hoseok was not a good loser, and neither was he a good winner.

Hoseok:

He distracts his friends, and be careful what you say, kookie.

Received at 11:30 p.m.

He bit his lip, glancing around the bar, thinking he'd find him sitting somewhere spying on everything but nothing looked suspicious. He sighed, sending Jimin out for drinks with one of Namjoon's friends who he gladly accepted. He got up having pushed one away, the other who introduced himself as Jackson seemed more reluctant to leave his friend alone but with a few excuses about feeling bad managed to get him out of sight.

Believed that he would find Namjoon sitting right where he was before but no, he was gone. He felt a burning feeling of guilt, maybe if you didn't find out, nothing would happen.

"You're still the same as before, boss." Jimin sat down next to him, making him uncomfortable.

"Same as before? I am no longer a child."

"But you continue to obey as one. The manipulation they use on you is your greatest weakness, you are afraid, you obey without hesitation thinking about how this will indirectly affect you. But you never do anything to avoid it, you feel bad about this but you still sit here without doing nothing."

"What can I do, Jimin? I don't know if he really left by his will, or if they forced him. I don't want to enter a room in this dirty place and see him sleeping with another woman, because he wanted to and is a fucking infidel . "

Jimin ignored his words, falling silent after several seconds.

Feeling unhappy is a horrible feeling without a doubt. The curious eyes looked at you as if they themselves could judge your story.

Namjoon disappeared as quickly as the wind, many sharp tongues said that he eloped with a lover so as not to marry you. Others believed it was a kidnapping, maybe a robbery gone wrong and he was taken away or he was killed somewhere far away. A sob escaped you just thinking about it, the detective in front of you watched you cautiously.

"We don't know anything about him yet, but we will continue with the investigations."

You nod, without saying a word. Jungkook came in minutes later with a handkerchief in hand, he observed you before gently hugging you. You had the pleasure of meeting him after Namjoon disappeared that night, he introduced himself as a close friend from work and quickly offered to help you with the search.

Maybe he felt guilt.

"Thanks, Jungkook." You smile wiping the tears that escape from your eyes.

"They are looking for the best they can, they even alerted the Japanese embassies in case they might take him there."

"Japan?" Puzzled questions. "Why would someone take him so far? He's just a man with little money, that's ridiculous."

"We don't know, but I promise I won't rest until I find it."

Hoseok sighs bored, witnessing the moment. He had been bribing the bloody police force to hide the information from you about the discovery of your fiancé's corpse floating in the middle of the waters of the river where they used to go together. The only thing that was removed intact from his clothes was a small photo of you smiling, sitting on the banks of the same river.

The police mourned the death, but his faces left grief when they saw the money in his hands. He made fun of Jungkook as usual, who passed by him ignoring him when he went to his house to talk to his father, he knew that the useless little one was very meddlesome in the search for your future husband and ex-fiance. He rolled her eyes remembering how she used to look at him with discontent in meetings, suspicious of him.

He was a good detective, he couldn't deny the obvious.

"You didn't have to do this, a I'm sorry was enough." You say admiring all the bouquets of flowers that came to your house from him. "And I'm sorry for your loss."

He wasn't sorry.

"My dear, losing a loved one is something without a name. I can give you more than this if you promise to smile again, I love your smiles."

Jungkook snorts approaching you from behind, Hoseok to growl at noticing him so close and see how he puts his hand on your shoulder, apparently like support.

"Hyung, he didn't think it's a good time for ... That."

"But little kook, when is not a good time to express how you feel about your loved one?"

"When that person you say you love is crying over the loss of someone special because of evil people who don't know what remorse is. Do you understand that, hyung?"

"No, not really." He laughs cynically making you lose your patience, your little body comes between the two men, with one already furious and the other inadvertently giving up, you make a face of annoyance before speaking.

"Sirs!" You yell at him immediately, Jungkook steps back adjusting his tie. A mania that he had and that you noticed when he presented himself in front of you with regret, he did it when he was uncomfortable or nervous. "This is not the time to argue, I think you'd better leave my house if you're just wasting your time. Thanks for the flowers Hoseok, and Jungkook ... I, I want to continue the investigation on my own."

"That?!"

"What you heard, don't feel responsible for Namj's disappearance -..." You tremble correcting your words, making Hoseok scoff. "My husband, he was just at the wrong time in the wrong place. Thanks for your help, I'll see how to pay you very soon." Jungkook denies trying to insist but fails when you are already closing the door and giving him an apologetic smile.

Your breath feels heavy, you sigh falling to the ground sobbing again. You wanted to find Namjoon, but a large part of you was afraid of how. Dead, with another woman, with serious injuries or simply ... Alive but with trauma for life. You did not want to see him suffer, it was your judgment in life to see the person you love cry in his pain.

You observe yourself, telling yourself that you would be fine when you find it.

Your email seems to explode with thousands of messages received from people claiming to have seen a man like Namjoon near their homes. You ignore them knowing that most of them were false, the first few days you read all of them giving the police false clues that they quickly denied and dismissed.

You dry your tears, closing all the windows and cooking a simple instant soup, eating in absolute silence. It was overwhelming feeling alone at home, where you were supposed to feel safe indoors.

The rain, thunder, and evil outside seemed to be invisible within that place.

A chill runs through you, the control of the television seemed tempting to calm that neat silence and avoid your boredom. You give up turning on the TV, you see the first channel, you keep changing looking for the unknown, you didn't know what you wanted to see. Maybe a newscast saying they found a tall man with dark brown hair and charming eyes unconscious, with a couple of blows to the face and a few scratches but okay, safe, alive and waiting to see your face waiting for him with a warm smile.

Swearing never ever to let go.

A couple of tears slide down your cheek, ruining your fast food. A few knocks on the door manage to scare you, causing you to bite your lip in anger.

"Who is?!" Questions in a shout.

Nothing.

"It better be good ..." You say in muttered, you open the door expecting to see a child running to his house laughing at his childish joke.

But no, there is no one at the door. Just a small envelope that easily slipped underneath, you take it hoping it's a letter from the police announcing good news. Maybe a simple identification of suspicious faces, or footprints at the club.

"I hate being the bad guy, it makes me feel good.

He's dead, I did it for you. For me. For us. I want to make you happy but it's so difficult when I don't know what you want, tell me what you want.

Love you. Love you. Love you.

My heart is so weak in your cold eyes, I feel that you look at me with ignorance of my feelings. Do you want to find it? Do you want to do it?! Okay. Good luck with it. "

It was everything, plus a picture of a golden ring with a large diamond shining brightly. You wrinkle the letter in anger, tossing it into the first bin you found nearby. It seems that in the end, someone did want to joke with you.

Your days remained the same, you went out to work and in the afternoons you called each of the investigators to ask for new news, it was almost always a solid wall, there was nothing really important to report and little by little, they gave up.

Jungkook knocked on the door, he heard some footsteps approaching making him have a little hope. But when the door opened he saw you with a worried face, he felt his heart squeeze in his chest when he tried to get closer but you avoid him by leaving in a hurry. You were dressed in a long black skirt and a white blouse, you were elegantly ready for something.

"Where are you going?" He ask stopping your hurried pace, taking your arm tightly.

"Yo, listen... He... Or her, I don't know who it is but ... You know, he or her know where, he's alive I know. I just don't have time, please."

Your mouth moves wiht fear, you were hiding something but not from him. You were willing to tell him but not now. Not at that time.

"Let me accompany you, I can take you and I will feel better if you are safe."

You nod, letting go of his grip and running down the stairs, outside there is a very elegant car, apparently waiting. The driver smiles at you as if he had known you before, you make an uncomfortable face trying to continue on your way but Jungkook introduces him saying that he works for him.

"Jimin, he's Jimin. He's a good person and a great friend, I've told him about you before."

"I see, sorry." You speak with a bow before climbing to the back, Jimin just smiles kindly, as always.

"Where are we going today?" He asks animatedly, Jungkook takes your hand for support making Jimin remove the smile from him. Your nervous state and your afflicted face are enough for him to understand the situation.

You give him an address, Jimin searches the map being unknown to the place. Your eyes sparkle when the lights of Seoul are reflected in them, Jungkook holds your hand tightly in fear of letting you go again. He felt sick when you stopped calling him, cutting connections with him totally to this day. He spend sleepless nights looking for more clues, the only thing I had until that moment was the identity of the woman, she was a prostitute without anything special, when he spoke with her he seemed indifferent saying that he did not know Namjoon and that the last time he saw him It was when he drugged him and left him in a room as ordered.

The whore made fun of him saying that he would give him this information if he did not tell the police anything, he obviously accepted. Now he repented, the woman disappeared after that and days later she was found in a garbage container. It seemed to be a suicide, the container was from her building, the window of her old apartment faced just where she was supposed to fall if she threw herself without thinking twice.

Right in the garbage.

The wheels of the car made a thud when it stopped, it was a cabin, the only one nearby. You came down quickly thanking Jimin who just made a flirty face. Your hands trembled with the cold, you look at the letter that tells you where and when you should be standing at the door.

"Wait for me here, if we don't go out or you hear noises, you know who to call."

"Yes sir!" Jimin obeys with a laugh at the boss's serious tone of him.

"Y-you should go, I can do this alone." Your voice rises in the echo of the silent place, Jungkook rolls his eyes before offering his arm to you, making his decision clear.

You laugh calming your nerves, the door opens just as you both step close to it. A man stops them, saying that only you can enter the next room. You stop Jungkook who was to protest, you calm him down by leaving your ring in his hands with a smile.

Your body disappears when another man closes the door silently, Jungkook sighs looking annoyed at the guards who ignore him.

A message coming to his phone distracts him for a few seconds.

Jimin:

Should I call the police, Mr. Jung, or the hospital?

Received at 9:35 p.m.

Smile ready to answer before hearing the door open again, he approaching you to ask everything and at the same time nothing. Your pale face is enough to make want to hit the person who was inside with you. Questions remain in the air, your arms surround him while you sob for forgiveness.

From the shadows Hoseok smiles, admiring the document in his hand, your signature shiny as gold is glued to it. He thought it would be more difficult to convince you to accept his marriage proposal, but the precious and expensive ring fit you perfectly. He raised his hand proudly admiring his own, the wedding would be planned as soon as possible making him jump like a happy child.

You had accepted, with the promise that he would bring you back to Namjoon.

But it was never specified in the contract that he would be alive.

The wedding was in a meadow, outdoors with distinguished guests and a few friends and family of yours. Hoseok greeted everyone, by taking your hand tightly introducing you as his wife immediately. It's as if he wants to show everyone that you now belong to him, as if you were a prize.

And maybe if you gave him the key to her success.

"You better smile my dear, nobody wants to know what will happen if you don't." Her lips brushed your hand before placing a chaste kiss on it. "I love you, my beautiful protagonist."

You sob, tears falling from your face as you melt into his disgusting caresses. The man in front of you, your un-predestined husband. The one who stole the position of your true love, he was kissing you delicately.

"Don't cry, decorate the room just the way you wanted. The photos were a special touch ..." His teeth bit into the sensitive skin of your neck, an involuntary groan of pain escaping. "Love you."

Your eyes move desperately to find a photo where the beaten, abused or dead body of Namjoon cannot be seen. You scream when you find one where you see blood everywhere, you are resigned to look down at the ground where Hoseok was crouching kissing the inside of your thighs.

Your mind tried to process the idea that Namjoon had been killed, mutilated and thrown into a river that washed away his body along with happy memories. Farewell to him was prolonged as your body faded in pain.

Hoseok enjoyed the sight of your eyes tightly closed, his cock throbbing inside you as she fucked you like his wife.

The head of the bed moved crashing into the wall, and unconsciously your walls tightened around it causing it to release a curse aloft to the sky.

We got to the end of the movie, smiled as he dazzled the credits by seeing Jungkook's lost name. His little bitch who was his toy for many years, laughed remembering how she did wonders with her mouth.

He pretended not to know him when her father introduced him, taunting her hurt face.

He held you in his arms tightly, you had been struggling to free yourself from his grip as he continued to abuse you over-stimulating your pussy. Your eyes closed falling asleep from crying so much.

He caressed your face, kissing your dry, chapped lips.

The end.

#bts #bts smut #bts yandere #yandere #kpop #yandere bts #yandere bts au #yandere kpop #yandere!bts #hoseok yandere #yandere hoseok #jhope #yandere! jhope #jhope smut #hoseok smut #bts fic #bts x reader #hoseok x reader #yandere hoseok x reader

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ashintheairlikesnow · 4 years

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Sry, i meant Bram + consensual... *shamefaced* *whispers "i'm shit at names" *

CW: Dubcon. Dehumanizing language + pet whump. Bram says something pretty victim-blame-y at the end, fair warning.

“Poor little thing,” Abraham murmurs. “You’re so cold, aren’t you?”

I’m always fucking cold, Danny thinks, but he keeps the words trapped behind his teeth where they belong, where they can’t find their way out and get the muzzle strapped back over his mouth again.

How long has he been here? Months? A year? Less? He doesn’t know. But he knows better than to say the things he sometimes can still think. Without any safe way to say them, though, he worries he won’t even think them for much longer.

Instead, he only nods, looking sideways up at Abraham from where he lays curled on his mat with his thin blanket pulled tightly around himself for warmth.

“I can tell, even from over here. Get up and come sit with us.” Abraham’s voice is a purr, soothing and kind, and there’s the sound of his fingernails scratching along the fabric of the couch cushion. Like a man calling a cat.

Or a dog.

Danny swallows back his revulsion.

“Come on up, Red,” Abraham says, softly. “Up.”

The chain around his ankle scrapes the floor as Danny moves, keeping his eyes down as he shifts the blanket off and shivers all over again at the touch of the cabin’s cold air on his skin. There are holes worn in the seams of the thin t-shirts he is allowed to wear, and the air drifts straight through the fabric, so paper-thin Danny is surprised you can’t see right through it.

He picks up the chain so it won’t catch and moves carefully around the couch, grateful at least that Abraham rarely forces him to crawl.

Gratitude is the sharp edge he cuts himself on, day by day. Thankful for little things - a bit more food at a meal, or the occasional chance to feed himself with his own fingers or even a fork rather than being forced to take food from Abraham or Nate’s hand. Gratitude when he screws up and Abraham only hurts him a little. Gratitude when there are moments like this, where he might get close enough to Nate to get warm.

Gratitude when Abraham lets him nap, curled on his mat, after keeping him up all night.

Some part of him is smart enough to know that he is being taught to be so grateful for the little things he is given that he’ll stop trying to hold onto the larger parts of himself he is losing, day by day.

But that voice is much quieter than the cold air and the need for food and how fucking tired he is all the time.

When he gets around in front of them, Nate briefly meets his eyes - and Danny’s gone through a cycle of hating Nate for his cowardice to being desperate for any hint of his affection again and again. Anything that isn’t Abraham. Any moment that isn’t cold.

Abraham scratches the couch cushion again, and Danny moves to sit, only to have Abraham click his tongue against his teeth pulling Danny up short. His face flares briefly red - he answers too fast to all these things, is too much the animal Abraham wants him to be.

At least, Danny thinks, I don’t have to wear a collar.

Yet.

“You’re cold, right?” Abraham asks, his head tilted, voice low and quiet. Danny slowly nods, watching him carefully, rubbing at the goosebumps on one arm with his hand, keeping himself hunched over and small. “Then sit on Nate’s lap. I’m sure he’d love you to.”

Nate looks away from him, and Danny knows he’s walked into a trap. He doesn’t know what it is, but Nate knows - and Abraham knows. He looks at Abraham, who only smiles at him, snakelike.

“Knees on either side of him.”

The chain that keeps him locked in here, helpless to get away from Abraham, rattles a little as Danny looks away and carefully climbs up onto Nate’s lap, settling himself straddling the older man, tense and uncertain. Nate is just as tensed underneath him, his hands moving carefully to Danny’s hips, bad right hand slightly splayed, left hand gripping tightly.

They meet each other’s eyes, and Nate’s hold a kind of desperate apology, but so do Danny’s.

“There you go. There’s a good boy.”

His face flares red again and Danny closes his eyes tightly, dropping his head onto Nate’s shoulder. Shame, for what he’s going to do to earn the rush of warmth he feels from Nate’s skin as he’s pulled close against his chest, as Nate’s hands knead gently at his hips. Shame, for what he is.

But gratitude, too, that he is being allowed to trade himself for something better than freezing.

“I want to watch you,” Abraham says, and Danny knew the words were coming but still he feels his stomach drop, and he doesn’t open his eyes. “With him. Do that and you can sleep by the fireplace tonight.”

They’d put out the fire first, but the fireplace - the stones around the hearth - would give off heat nearly all night, and Abraham would move his mat and he could curl up like a cat and feel something better than cold.

“Does that sound good, puppy?”

Danny fights the shame, shoves it down with his rules. If he thinks the rules, he can force everything else away, behind the wall in his mind, to be felt later when he cries, but he is warm. My name is Red and I belong to Abraham Denner. I’m the puppy. Puppies don’t say no. It’s not my body, it’s not, it’s Abraham’s body and he can make it do whatever he wants.

“Yes, Abraham,” Danny murmurs, and turns his head to kiss into Nate’s neck, finding the subtle circular scarring, feeling his friend’s breathing shift and hitch beside him, his good left hand tightening in its grip on Danny’s hip. “Sounds… sounds good.”

Did they fight this, at first? Danny has trouble remembering things. He’s brain damaged, Abraham tells him, just like all his outsides are damaged. He thinks he used to fight, before the muzzle.

He thinks Nate used to fight, before the time under the Christmas tree.

Abraham’s eyes are on him as he rolls his hips into Nate’s, they’re a heavy weight on his back, lighting up his nerve endings. Does he like being watched, or hate it? He doesn’t know anymore.

Nate groans, low in his throat - Danny feels the vibration under his lips where he has them pressed against the spot he thinks Nate’s jugular vein might be.

“See?” Abraham murmurs. Danny rolls his hips again, chasing the pressure, a light move and then back, and feels Nate’s body finally move, just a little, against his own. “Told you.”

“Told him what?” Danny whispers. He doesn’t want to know. He slides his hands down over Nate’s chest, rubbing thumbs lightly over sensitive spots through the cloth of his shirt to hear Nate make a sound again. He loves the sound of Nate moaning at his touch - or he’s being made to love it, and it’s all the same thing. Heat pools in his hips, arousal coiling around his shame.

“That you wouldn’t say no.”

Danny goes still, for just a second. Then he slips his fingers under the hem of Nate’s shirt and pulls it off over his head, tilting his own head to look at Nate’s mussed-up black hair, the empty look in his green eyes. His own shirt is discarded just as rapidly. He stares down at Nate and says, softly, “Puppies don’t say no.”

Nate winces - the motion is barely-there, but Danny catches it.

What else am I, anymore? Danny wants to ask, but he can feel Abraham’s eyes like hands on the back of his neck pushing him down, hands moving cold over his back, slipping under the waistband of his pants. Abraham is everywhere and in everything and he doesn’t even have to touch him for him to be all Danny can feel.

Everything that isn’t Nate, anyway.

“That’s right. Puppies don’t.” There’s a shift next to him and cold fingers run through his hair, petting him as he kisses Nate, feels warm lips part under his, the heat of his mouth and his tongue, taste of whiskey. His skin is electricity and nerves and all of him is alive, and none of him wants to be.

Puppies always say yes.

“That’s how I knew you’d be perfect for me. I knew I could always make you say yes. From the second I saw you, I knew you’d be a good fucking dog for us both.”

Stop talking, Danny wants to beg.

He says nothing. Only kisses Nate again, slides his hand under Nate’s pants to feel him come to life under his fingers. This is warm, and feels good, and nothing is both those things at once, not anymore.

All he has to do is make Nate feel good, wreck himself against a new shore, and he can sleep by the fireplace tonight. He can tell there are words trapped in Nate’s throat, things he wants to say. Danny kisses all those words away, because he knows all of them are dangerous when Abraham is listening.

I would want you anyway. I’m sorry. I don’t want it like this.

They’re both sorry, and it doesn’t matter, because Danny’s body does not belong to him and it never will again.

“Nobody’s ever looked more like a born fucking slut than you, you little fucking whore,” Abraham says gently, almost lovingly, as he grips onto Danny’s hair and pulls his head back until his back arches.

Abraham moves behind him, standing up off the couch, and the line about watching was a lie but it doesn’t matter. It never matters. Danny keeps his back arched, hand in his hair and cold fingers slipping down to find a nipple, pinch until he cries out, when a cold mouth descends on his.

Danny shivers at the tongue in his mouth just as Nate’s hand slips into his pants, finds him, and begins to move. He moans into Abraham’s kiss, and the man laughs, pinching harder, until he moans again and bucks, hard, into Nate’s grip. “You don’t have to say yes,” Abraham murmurs against the corner of his mouth. “Your body will do it for you. This is all puppies are good for.”

It’s Abraham Denner’s body. Danny is just the one trapped under its skin. There is cold above him and warmth below him - he is now and has been and will always be stretched between them.

This is hell.

This is hell and he’ll do anything to be warm.

#Daniel michaelson's story #one word prompts #oc prompts #anon asks for danny #whump #intimate whumper #creepy whumper #dubcon #tw: dubcon #caretaker whumpee #caretaker and whumpee #captivity #tw: noncon touching #noncon touching #intimate whump #conditioning #pet whump #dehumanization #tw: victim blaming

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dxringred · 7 years

Note

Hey, I'm the anon that asked you how come you couldn't see both Paily and Emison as decent ships... I'm sorry I truly didn't mean it to come of negatively.. An I sure didn't mean to bring up bad memories. For that I'm truly sorry.. I agree to disagree on certain things you said. An I'm truly grateful for your candor with answering.. Its just the girl that fell for her best friend wishes to have that happy ending we never get.. Which for me is the appeal of Emison. I enjoy Paily also.

I think Emison Endgame is the product of MK not writing it in earlier.. Hear me out.. I think they planned on making Emily an Ali a couple at some point.. I think with all the writers the storyline kept getting delayed.. I think it was suppose to be this I tried cause I really do love you just not that way storyline.. They held out season after season.. Than lots of angry shippers later.. They were like oh shit better give them what they want. Hence the Endgame was born..

As for the discussion as a whole. One of the reasons I’m turned right off of Em/son as a ship is due to the premise of: “girl that fell for her best-friend and desires happiness.” And that’s mostly because that’s how my abusive relationship started. She was my best-friend and I had the biggest crush in the world on her, and that’s why she found it so easy to manipulate me etc. which is arguably the issue with Em/son because Alison can use Emily’s long-term crush and adoration as a starting point to manipulate her. She knows how she feels, she knows personal stuff about her because of their friendship, and that means she’s well-aware of her weak points and her strengths. That makes it incredibly easy to use people.

I know a lot of people are very into this trope, and the “best friends turned lovers” is one of the more popular, and I’m guilty of loving it myself but only when it’s done right. Not when there are abusive undertones to it, because that just leaves a bad taste in my mouth in general. I prefer Pai/y as a relationship because the ship doesn’t have the same negative undertones, especially not after their initial rocky start.

The two relationships, for me, have similar but vastly different premises. Both tell the story of a girl who gets/wants the girl of her dreams. Paige gets Emily, Emily gets Alison. But here’s the difference:

one tells a tale of hope where a depressed, bullied girl who hates herself and thinks she’ll be miserable forever gets her happy ending;

the other tells the tale of a mildly popular girl getting with her highschool crush of the “popular bitch” who’s not even a healthy friend let alone a healthy romantic/sexual partner.

The two stories, when looked into beyond the initial trope, are entirely different, and for me personally it’s obvious which one is the ideal representation not just for the community but also in terms of being shown to a young audience of influential girls. Hint: it’s the first one.

I mean when I first watched PLL, Pai/y struck a cord with me for the exact reason outlined above - its story, being one of hope and love and promise. Because Paige was damaged but it didn’t make her any less of a person. It didn’t make her any less lovable or worthy. It didn’t make her any less deserving of being happy. She was closeted and lonely, depressed, bullied and suicidal. And as someone who, too, has been all of those things simultaneously, I related to her character immensely. She gave me hope. And she still does, despite MK being a giant screw-up in regards to writing the remainder of Paige’s story.

Alison on the other hand. Well, she’s the character you’re not supposed to want to see get a happy ending. Particularly when you see yourself in Paige. (Or Mona or Lucas or any of her other victims.) She’s the bully, the abuser, the manipulator, the individual who drives people to suicide and breaks them for her own amusement. It’s one of the reasons why I’ve always been for the assertion that the show would’ve been better had she stayed dead. (Or been revealed as alive right at the end, only to turn out to have been the villain all along, or for at least during some portion of the story.)

Having her get her victim’s happy ending instead is.. well, you can probably see why it’s problematic and why fans of Paige and Pai/y are more than a little bitter/angry. For similar reasons it’s always irked me that Alison gets so easily accepted by the core four while Mona is still painted negatively by them, but that’s another discussion for another day.

I think “Em/son Endgame” god I hate that phrase lol never made sense from the get-go personally. Of course I can understand why people were into it, and maybe if I’d watched the show when it initially started instead of binging it then maybe I’d have had more time to see the appeal. But I didn’t, and perhaps that’s where the different perception comes into play. For me the manipulation was apparent from the first flashback between the two, with red flags popping up all the time in their friendship.

I always thought the more interesting story was Emily overcoming her crush on Alison and realizing that she deserved more, recognizing that what she had with Alison to whatever extent clearly wasn’t healthy and moving on with someone else who appreciated her more as a person and wasn’t just using her to fulfill their desire to be admired and given attention.

So when she regressed completely and all of that became completely irrelevant… well, it felt like a waste of storytelling if I’m honest. Like all that build-up and development and introduction of new character dynamics had been for naught. And it was. I’m always a sucker for proper planning. It clarifies things, it makes them easier to follow, and I think the issue with several current shows nowadays is that the writers don’t always entirely know how they want to get from Point A to Point B. Despite claims otherwise. You can’t just decide on Point A, Point B, and half of the journey between the two and then decide you’ll think about the other half when you get to it because you don’t have time and that’s something I can definitely attest to as a writer.

There were several times when I thought Emily was finally seeing it, particularly in later seasons. Where I thought she was going to realize that she was being used, but then she constantly kept going back to Alison and that alone isn’t the healthiest thing. And I know that for a fact because it was a staple of my own abusive relationship with someone.

If Alison had actually grown as a character I’d probably be less against the ship. I still wouldn’t ship it - no amount of in-depth character growth is going to make me like Alison enough, unfortunately - but I’d understand a lot more why other people do and I wouldn’t be disgusted at the thought of Em/son becoming endgame or labeled as good representation. Because it’s not.

Because I agree with you 100% on the last bit.

“Than lots of angry shippers later.. They were like oh shit better give them what they want. Hence the Endgame was born..”

I’ve always argued that that’s why the ship was “born” and suddenly became endgame despite all of the lack of development and character growth. It’s because of fan service, and that is no way to write or develop a show. You tell a certain story because it’s the one that needs to be told, that should be told, not because it’s the one that everyone else wants to be told.

And that’s my issue with PLL as an entire show, and why I stopped watching this last season, because it’s fan service for everyone at this point, including Pai/y shippers. And that’s one of the grossest things and some of the worst queerbaiting I’ve ever seen so don’t even get me started there.

Em/son shippers wanted something and they didn’t back down until they got it, and they went about it in a way that makes me gag even now: belittling the writers and the producers and the actresses. And let’s never forget them flipping insulting poor Lindsey every second of every day, telling her to commit suicide and not leaving room for a single nice comment on anything she posted anywhere. The poor woman probably regrets ever deciding to audition for the role of Paige and I don’t blame her one little bit.

And that’s my problem. You’ve got this abusive ship and mostly abusive fanbase behind it, and that’s why I can’t ever ship Em/son. It’s why I never will. Had it been planned, had it been developed, had it been turned into a 100% healthy ship, had Alison seen the error of her ways and genuinely become a better person, maybe I would. But that’s not what happened. And - with, what, five episodes left? Four? - it’s not what’s going to happen.

If you want to ship it, that’s perfectly fine. I can’t go around telling people what they can and can’t do, I can only explain to them why I don’t feel the same way as honestly as I can. So I know it’s long, and perhaps I missed some stuff, but hopefully this maybe explains my viewpoint a little better. If you managed to get all the way down here then thanks for taking the time to read!

#ask #paily #paige mccullers #essay #analysis #look at me making up tags

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