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#yandere jimin
Our Little Love part seven - OT7 Mafia/Yandere au
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What’s that saying? One step forward two steps back? 👀 6K words containing: manipulation, toxic yandere men, non-consented acts of affection, lies, possessive behaviour, jealousy, allusion to crime and kidnapping.
“Little love,” Jin calls for you absentmindedly, frowning when you don’t look up from your book to answer him. It’s one you had read a million times before, maybe you didn’t hear him.
“Little love?” He tries again, looking confused as you let out a disgruntled sigh of annoyance.
He can see your jaw clench, something had pissed you off. Your foot became restless as you sat in the arm chair, it was only when Jimin cleared his throat obviously he remembered the terms and conditions you had enforced.
This time he lets out a big sigh, one of tested patience. He mumbles an apology before turning away, a bitter feeling creeping up his chest. Fuck, he resented the fact he couldn’t call you that anymore, it was like asking him not to breathe. Fuck fuck fuck, they needed to earn your forgiveness soon or this might actually kill them. Not that they ever underestimated you, but you really did know which weapons to pull to hurt them the most, and fuck did he have to admit they deserved it. Didn’t mean he had to like any of it.
Jimin follows him out, a quick glance back at you to see if you were paying any concern but of course not. Since the day you announced the break you’d been keeping your distance, Jimin had complained about it childishly with tantrum tears in his eyes but you had patiently explained you needed the space to clear your head. 
Jimin scoffs at the memory, feeling sour about it still. The pout he wears gives away his thoughts when they both find Yoongi in the kitchen.
“Little love giving you a hard time?” he says almost amused. 
It’s Jin’s turn to scoff dramatically, ears burning so red, Yoongi swears there’s steam. 
“We can’t call her that anymore,” he complains, sulking. 
Yoongi smiles a little, not because he truly found his hyung’s pain entertaining, but because he understood the pain. 
“It’s a difficult situation,” Yoongi agrees, “but the alternative would have been so much worse.”
Jimin and Jin stare silently at him, their gazes aggressive as if they wanted to hit the male but they didn’t because he was right. The worst alternative wasn’t expecting you to leave, they all knew they would never let that happen, but if you had become a ghost of yourself, if they had broken you so badly there was nothing left to rebuild, then what would be left of you? 
“When did you become so considerate?” Jimin scoffs, rolling his eyes. He didn’t like any of it, he didn’t care if you were right and they were wrong, you had taken away their most prized and valuable possession, you. He couldn’t help the internal tantrums as if someone had taken away his favourite toy. Call him childish, call him whatever the hell you wanted, he hated this situation, and he couldn’t hide it. 
They apologised, and apologised, and apologised, and you still gave them the cruellest punishment you could think of. 
“You’re still thinking with anger,” Yoongi acknowledges, knowing when Jimin cooled down from this he would probably be the one with the most regret and remorse, what he didn’t know is Jimin was clinging to his resentment with all his might, because once that gave way he would have so much to answer for. 
Men would pay money to see Jung Hoseok hesitate, but that was exactly what he was doing now. Another book in your hand (you were reading a bit too much lately, he didn’t like it, it was as if you knew you couldn’t leave physically so you were doing so mentally), and he was stalling himself with interrupting you. 
Your rejection cut holes into him, and that’s what he was afraid of when approaching you today. When he was younger he used to be afraid of everything, but after indulging in the horrors of survival and the syndicate, nothing terrified him any more, or so he thought before his heart belonged to you. 
“Litt-” he catches himself before he says it too loud, clearing his throat quietly hoping you didn’t hear him. “Y/n?”
He sounds more confident, his more serious persona going up as if that would protect him here. He knew he needed it, any sane person after experiencing his pleasure and pain games would run at the sight of him, and a part of him was getting ready to catch you if you did.
You look at him and it has him crumbling. Something in his chest physically hurts him so bad he thinks he needs to go see a specialist, one glance from you and he’s ready to beg on his knees again for your forgiveness. The distance between you, although you were here in front of him, killed him. It felt eerily similar to what it did when you left, and it confused his brain and body so much. 
He had to remind himself every day, you were still here, you still loved them, this was just temporary. 
“I-I wasjus- I was just heading to the b-basment,” forget money, men would lay down their lives to see Jung Hoseok stutter and stumble over his words. 
You frown in question when he doesn’t continue, but stares at you expectantly, until he realises he hadn’t explained what he wanted.
“For a workout!” He rectifies himself quickly before taking a breath to calm himself, “I wondered if you wanted to join me?”
He mentally pats himself on the back quickly for sounding more put together, but then his nerves start to shake again when you don’t respond immediately. You contemplate it, for too long in his eyes, stretching out the pause until you have the man sweating. Who needs a work out, just piss your girlfriend off and try to spend time with her while she's still mad. 
“Yeah, okay,” you nod, finally putting down your book (he should get Jimin to burn them all). “I’ll go get changed.”
The relief and joy that floods Hobi almost makes him pass out, a genuine smile he hasn’t felt on his own face for days bursts through. This was a step in the right direction, you didn’t hate him or you would’ve shut him down. With the amount of hope in his system, he was getting giddy.
You wanted some time alone this evening, without them lingering around you, with poor attempts of covering their intentions with busying themselves. As if you couldn’t see Jimin’s imploring stare as he walked past you from the corner of your eyes. Or the way Jin would walk towards you, hesitate and then walk away. 
You didn’t say they couldn’t talk to you, you were just on a break. Part of you knows you should seek them out and start civil conversation but that part also knew once you opened the door they would come barging through. An inch would turn into a mile and you would be back where you started. 
So now you were busying yourself with the world’s worst chore, just to escape and breathe for a second, laundry. You were sorting through the load at a snail’s pace, knowing when you were done you’d have to endure them again. You’re so embedded in your own thoughts you don’t feel another presence join you.  
Arms wrap around you, making you still. His figure almost engulfs you from behind, his nose already finding purchase on your neck as he buries himself against you. You try not to sigh, you were sick of hearing the sound yourself but it was always  one of patience.
You understood how hard it was for them to accept your decision for a ‘break’, but all you wanted was some respect for it. And this broke your no touching rule.
“Tae let go,” you say without an ounce of emotion, continuing sorting out the laundry in front of you.
His only reaction to your words is the opposite of course, holding you tighter against him making your heart skip too many beats to count. Your skin sizzled with something akin to longing, a fire he only seemed to ignite when his breath hit your neck.
You don’t give in. You throw the item of clothing in your hand down, both hands on the edge of the basket as you still, standing statue as he tries his hardest to work through your defences. You don’t respond when he nuzzles his nose against where he’s buried, or to the rumble of his chest when he breathes you in deeply. His eyes are closed, you know they are, he’s relishing the moment all he can before you take it away.
He doesn’t feel you respond the way he wants you to, he wants you to melt against him and the urge is so strong but somehow you resist. He whines, the sound so soft near your ears you almost miss it. He tries holding you tighter still, his thumb stroking soft circles on your skin, trying to tempt you to break your resolve. Gentle, almost whisper like kisses are placed on your shoulder as he finally breaks away.
“Are you done?” You say almost coldly as he steps back, picking back up another item of clothing.
You hear him sniff but you don’t let it move you.
“Heaven, please,” he begs, a fist in your top clutching onto you.
That’s when you turn to face him. If he expects to see any softness in your gaze he’s sorely mistaken, it’s not a glare you’re giving him but it’s close enough that it burns. You don’t even flinch when you see tears in his eyes.
“I asked you not to touch me,” you state quietly but your words are firm. “Or that if you did, you asked first.”
He looks down, partly in shame, partly in grief. You can’t stand to see the sight, it makes your heart ache, so you walk away.
“Y/n?” Jungkook asks for your attention, biting his lips in worry. “Can I ask you about the book you’re reading?”
The others in the room feel an overwhelming sense of envy when you smile at the maknae. Jimin’s jaw goes slack as you scoot over to let Jungkook sit beside you. Envy was a dangerous thing, how he wanted to pluck the youngest of them out of the seat and take his place, but he hadn’t calmed his emotions down enough yet to approach you properly, and he knew if he did he’d ruin whatever rebuilding the others had done. No, he had to be patient with himself and withdraw, even if that meant physically. He was playing cards with Yoongi and Seokjin, but he places his cards down and leaves. 
Jin’s pout overtakes his face when he turns away from the sight of Jungkook grinning while you talk animatedly, putting down a card without thinking and letting Yoongi take the win this round. Yoongi didn’t even notice, his gaze goes soft at the way you laugh at a teasing comment Jungkook made, a sound he hasn’t heard in what felt like forever. The sound even makes the corners of Jin’s pout pull up. 
The youngest of the group honestly thought he was in paradise, he didn’t even care about the book he just wanted to hear you talk without reservation. His focus was on the way your eyes lit up, the genuine smile on your face, how does he try to make this moment last forever? He pays attention to every word you utter, asking the right question to keep you going, even making a joke here and there and feeling so pleased with himself when you laugh. 
How did the relationship regress back so far that he felt like this was the start of it, like he was still pursuing you to give him a chance, like he had to work up the courage to ask you out all over again. The answer of course was in their mistakes, the thought dampens his mood but he pushes it away. He didn’t know when he would get another moment like this, he had to soak it all in and cherish it before it was over. 
Your defences go up when you spot Jimin bringing Taehyung to you, the shorter male holding his hand guiding your bear like boyfriend in front of you. You look at them both expectantly, wondering what the theatrics were for. Taehyung sniffles, his face hanging low, his red hoodie pulled down as far as he can get it to hide himself. 
“Taehyung has something he wants to say Heaven- I mean angel- I mean Y/n,” he corrects himself repeatedly with a shake of his head, cheeks burning in slight embarrassment at the blunder, but he wouldn’t apologise for it even it that made him a hypocrite for what he was making Taehyung do. 
He pushes his friend gently, encouraging him to speak.
“Tae?” you say gently, remembering how harshly you spoke to him the other day. 
Apparently that was all it took for the man to break down into tears in front of you, falling to his knees as he bawled. Your jaw drops in shock at the action, but you’re more surprised at the fact he holds himself back from launching into you for comfort. 
You can see how hard it is to do so, he’s hugging himself, but his nails dig into the fabric of his clothes. He still doesn’t look at you, his gaze on the floor. You give him a second to compose himself, the sobs turning into little hiccups as he wipes his face with his sleeve. 
When he looks at you it's your turn to grip the armrests of the chair with all your might, those glassy eyes beg you for love and it takes everything not to smother him in your embrace. But that would undo all the work you’ve been doing, you had to talk it out first and then maybe if this was resolved you could reward him with physical affection, just a little. 
“I-I’m sorry,” he says through a hoarse voice, the sound only breaking your resolve further. “About the other day, I s-should’ve asked first.”
He tries to take a deep breath in but it’s shaky, for some reason what he wants to say next breaks him out into more tears. He covers his face as he cries, Jimin rubbing his back providing him with the comfort you couldn’t give just yet. 
“Doyouhateme?”
The muffled question breaks your heart, Jimin can see it on your face and it has him fighting down a smirk. He may have played a hand at manipulating the situation, convincing Taehyung this was the best way to get back into your good books.
“Tae no,” you breathe, eyes watering but you blink back the tears. You didn’t want to show them any weakness anymore. “I don’t hate you.”
You sigh, eyes to the ceiling, as if begging for control over yourself as you try really hard to not give in to the feeling of wanting to crawl into his lap and hold him. 
“I just really needed some space that day,” you explain, “and you caught me at a bad time.”
That wipes away Jimin’s elation, all this talk about space and distance, it already felt like you were living on Mars. How much space did you want? In his opinion there had been too much space, that was the problem, or were you forgetting the long agonising months of your absence? 
Taehyung nods, thankfully retaining your attention away from Jimin who couldn’t hide his thoughts from his face. 
You can’t sleep, tossing and turning from your side to your back and then to your side again. Were you fighting a losing battle? Were you being unfair in asking them to change? You remember cases of forgotten wives refusing to leave their no good husbands, the amount of inane times you heard the cries of ‘I can get him to change’... had you become one of those women? Then of course came the others, the women who knew they could not work miracles on their partners and gave up. Some left, some stayed, and you remember watching them all in the years of your career, arrogantly thinking it would never be you, no man would ever trap you like this. There was a joke in there somewhere, one man certainly didn’t, but seven did. 
The knock on the door thankfully interrupts your endless circle of pity, a meek Jungkook peeking around as he opens the door. Something about the scene felt familiar but the shoe was on the other foot. He was waiting for permission to come in, you don’t know why the sight made you smile, made you warm. 
If anyone was proof that they were trying for you it was Jungkook, Yoongi had kept his distance out of respect for your rules, you know he only did so because he couldn’t help himself if he got too close. Jimin was similar although, you could see he was keeping his distance mentally, angry with you and your conditions. It would pass, you were sure, or at least you hoped. 
Jungkook was the only one that accepted everything without complaint, and you knew it wasn’t easy. You were so grateful to him for it, for respecting your boundaries sincerely, for giving you hope that this relationship could be salvaged. 
He almost trips over himself when you pull the covers back wordlessly, inviting him in, the stumble of his legs as he races towards you makes you giggle. He climbs in without hesitation, about to reach out for you but he stops himself, eyes looking up at you, wanting to ask you out loud but too afraid to. 
“It’s okay,” you reassure him quietly, as if talking loudly would break the peace you felt with him there, that you’d second guess yourself.
Arms you’ve longed for wrap around your waist, pulling you towards him. You hold him back gently, not letting yourself get lost in him the way you wanted. In the darkness, your gazes meet, talking loudly in a way filled the silence. 
“I’ve missed you,” he breathes out hard, unable to hold it in any longer. 
“I’ve missed you too,” you admit.
He bites his lips to refrain from saying anything else, to break the illusion that everything was okay.
“I used to think I understood your darkness,” you murmur, stroking his hair out of his face.
He pulls you closer, burying his head against your chest, the youngest didn’t like how that sentence was going and part of him didn’t want to hear the rest.
“But I don’t think I ever did,” you confess in a whisper, starting to ramble. “I don’t get it Kookie, why me? This obsession, I thought I felt it the same as you, I thought you guys understood me too.”
You let out a shaky breath, trying to keep up with your thoughts when you felt the hands of sleep trying to catch you.
“Maybe I was just trying to excuse my own darkness,” you sigh, almost in defeat. “Or maybe I just fed yours too much.”
“You gave us your love,” he mumbles against your skin, eyes closed as he breathes in your scent. “Your acceptance, you didn’t feed our darkness baby, you just didn’t see the extent of it.”
The silence is suffocating. Yoongi normally appreciates it but in this situation it was unsettling. They’re all in the living room, some pretending to do their own thing, but no one was paying any attention to anything other than you. Yoongi and Namjoon did so blatantly, Yoongi sitting on the couch away from you but his stare is nowhere else. This didn’t break the rules, you didn’t tell him he couldn’t soak you in with his eyes whenever he wanted. 
The others were also very obvious with their glances towards you, Jin was dusting the same spot of the living room over and over. Hoseok flipping through the tv channels with Jungkook sitting beside him, the maknae biting his lips in worry with every peek he took, a habit he hadn’t had since he was a teenager. Taehyung and Jimin uncharacteristically played chess but all the pieces were in the wrong places, arbitrarily moving them just to keep appearances so you didn’t call them out. 
And Namjoon… the man was staring daggers into your form. Elbow on his thigh, leaning forward, his chin on his thumb, his finger on his face tapping away on his cheekbone impatiently. He was supposed to be going over the papers in his lap, but they were being scrunched in his other hand. Yoongi thought he looked like a bomb about to explode, and he wasn’t wrong.
“That’s it!” Namjoon almost growls as he slams his file down, standing from his seat while everyone stares in shock at his outburst.
He walks towards you, and you meet his glare but refuse to move from the comfort and safety of the tub chair, you don’t even close your book.
“This ‘break’ is over,” he snarls, gestating with his hands trying to find a conduit for his anger. “Do you understand, little love?”
You look up at him with eyes simmering a fire he only ignited, meeting his glare head on.
“I decide when this break is over,” you say calmly, refusing to fight him at his level.
“No.”
“No?” Your brows scrunch in disbelief and anger, there goes your plan to remain calm. “What do you mean ‘no’?”
You throw your book back into the seat as you rise to meet him eye to eye, although he’s still looking down at you.
“I mean…” he breathes gruffly, grazing his hand with yours at your side. “No.”
“You can’t b-“
Your voice is smothered by his lips, his soft touch turning into an iron grip as he pulls you closer, devouring you like a man starved and in his eyes that’s exactly what he was. You push him away, but he doesn’t allow for any space between you.
Even when you’re banging your fist against his chest, unable to breathe, he doesn’t budge. You’re at his mercy, only when he decides he’s had enough (for now), does he pull away.
You look dishevelled almost, breathing hard, your eyes glistening with tears. The sight shouldn’t arouse him but it does.
You have the audacity to childishly wipe his kiss away with the back of your hand, a tough swipe that does nothing to erase the force he handled you with. He chuckles, the sound makes your ears burn, feeling the warmth of shame colour them in.
The others stare with the jaws wide open, fear settling in that this was taking too many steps in the wrong direction. It takes everything not to call you back when you storm away, it takes everything not to follow. 
No one says a word, but they all glare accusingly at their leader except Taehyung, who only looks down in shame. 
“Where do you think you’re going?” Yoongi asks gruffly, sleep still in his voice.
“Out.” You respond bluntly, avoiding his gaze.
“I asked where,” he pushes when you pull Taehyung’s hoodie over your head. You were drowning in the fabric, and he pretended the sight didn��t make him ache for you. The same way you were trying so hard not to let his sleepy state bring down your defences, no matter how cute he looked in the shorts and grey top.
“What does it look like Yoongi,” your head was spinning with too many thoughts and you needed to clear it. “For a run.”
“I’ll come with you,” he says it like an offer but it’s not, you know it’s not. 
“No,” you refuse simply, finally meeting his stare. “Send one of your men to keep an eye on me, it's what you did before anyway.”
He’s quiet, observing you for a moment. You hated it when he did that, it was like he could see inside of you and yet, despite that, you felt like he couldn’t understand anything he saw. You break eye contact first, putting on your trainers while he continues to stare. Why couldn’t you read him the same, how could he still get under your skin with his silence even after all this time?
“I’ll send Jungkook,” he says as you open the door. “He’ll keep his distance.”
He doesn’t take the slam as you leave personally, he knows you just need to vent your frustrations, but because you were so isolated- sorry, because they isolated you, you had no one to vent to, no one who was objective to talk to. Physically stretching your mind would maybe do you some good. 
“Did you seriously let her go out unsupervised?” Namjoon seethes as he approaches Yoongi, quick to dial one of their men regardless of what nefarious time of the morning it was. The first call goes to voicemail.
Yoongi sighs, he was on his way back to bed, guess not.
“She deserves our trust,” he replies. “And I was about to send Jungkook.”
“It’s not about trust,” Namjoon bites back, another call unanswered, “it’s about safety, or are you forgetting our enemies hunt our weaknesses.”
“Our enemies know if they touch her they’ve signed their own death certificate, no one would dare cross us now, not with the amount of blood we’ve shed,” Yoongi groans in aggravation. “Not to mention you’ve bought out the police Namjoon.”
“But not every policeman, or Captain, or are you forgetting what we did to him?”
“You gave him a warning, he’ll behave,” Yoongi states, ready to leave the conversation but he can’t help himself with what he says next. After Namjoon’s actions last night, he was feeling a little vengeful, even if he didn’t completely mean his words. “We should’ve left him unharmed, we knew she didn’t want us to hurt him.”
The shock in Namjoon’s eyes flashes for a second before they compose themselves to a stare. He puts his phone back in his pocket, maybe Jungkook was the best one to go, you didn’t seem to punish him as harshly as the others.
The silence between the men turns the air cold, their gazes stoic but speaking volumes. Namjoon wouldn’t stand for mutiny or disloyalty, he especially didn’t stand for anyone questioning his decisions.
“He hurt her,” he explains himself patiently, “he wants to take her away from us.”
Yoongi scoffs, a humourless grin on his face as he stares back in ridicule at their leader.
“We hurt her,” he states, eyes blank of emotion, “where’s our bullet to the knees.”
If you were being honest with yourself, you hated running, you hated the way each breath burned as it filled your lungs, how each limb could feel like lead, but the pain was better than the thoughts you were trying to clear. 
You remember at the police academy, Suho and Kai used to run circles around you, but somewhere along the way your competitiveness got the better of you, and you trained harder than them both. It used to annoy you to hell that they were physically much stronger than you, but those days were some of the best. The three of you were so close, each other’s confidants when things went sour, the two you’d hang out with when a case went wrong. Now who did you have to confide in?
Maybe it’s your conscious or unconscious thoughts making your legs move in a particular direction, but you don’t realise where you’re headed until you see the sign above the door. The breakfast place… where everything went to shit a third time.
You barely glance inside as you run past but the sight of someone familiar makes you double take. Think of the devil and he appears?
His eyes catch yours when you stop in your tracks, he’s sitting at a table alone and the sight of him brings back that day like a breath after being underwater for so long. An apology is at the tip of your tongue, your eyes start to water, you know you have to keep running, if any of them finds you here with him, he’d be dead. You’re about to turn away when he waves at you, a simple smile that didn’t meet his eyes sent your way as he watches the realisation hit you.
His hand was covered in thick bandages, and your stare doesn’t leave them. There’s no thought in your mind as your legs move you into the building, ignoring the waiter's greeting as you walk towards your old Captain with dread. 
He shifts in his seat, letting you see the bandages on his leg, around his knee, the crutches resting on the seat next to him. Your eyes are wide with shock before your gaze turns into one of mournful rage. Tears start forming in your eyes as you shake.
The sense of betrayal that overwhelms you has you reaching a hand for the table, gripping the edge tight to steady yourself. 
They lied. 
They looked you in the eyes and lied. All of them, including Jungkook. You don’t let yourself sob, not when a fire burns any attachment you felt towards them to dust. 
You move your gaze from his injuries to his face, his stare never having left you. 
“Arrest them,” your voice is hoarse but without a morsel of regret, anger paving the way forward now, filling the loss you felt deep inside of you. 
They must’ve thought you were fucking stupid, they must’ve laughed behind your back, humoring you with their acts of trying to change. Fuck, you were a fool, they played you again and again and you just took it every fucking time. There was never going to be any change, and you refused to be their prisoner any longer.
“I’ll be your witness,” you say it with conviction, although a part of you grieves. “I’ll give you all the evidence you need, just send them away.”
Suho doesn’t say a word, and that makes it all so much worse. You can feel something creeping around you, shadows of them that have latched onto you, crawling all over your skin. You wanted rid of this dark energy, you wanted out. 
You don’t break his stare, not for a second, you can tell he’s deep in thought, contemplating your resolve, and if he saw a hint of uncertainty in you he would do no such thing. Why would he risk it? They hurt him, they could hurt him again. 
He reaches for his phone, and you take a premature breath of relief.
“Make the call,” he commands, handing the device to you. 
When Yoongi dragged Jungkook out of bed this morning, the maknae had begrudgingly crawled out of the house. His body ran on autopilot when he left to find you, eyes half open, yawning in the morning air. His hoodie pushes his hair to fall in his face but he’s too tired to drag the fabric back.
It wouldn’t take long to find you, he could run circles around you if he wanted but the thought of maybe spending some time with you alone made his legs pick up the pace, a goofy grin on his face as he thought about it.
Yes you were probably mad about Namjoon’s actions yesterday, not that Jungkook blamed him all that much, it was hard to stay away from you, but he was starting to understand your perspective a little more. Especially after the last time you pulled away, and he couldn’t let that happen again, he wouldn’t survive it another time. He wouldn’t blame you if you gave him the cold shoulder, he just hopes you don’t punish him because of Namjoon, deflecting your anger wherever it did damage.
He’d calm you down, he’s sure of it. He’d tell you that what their big bad boss did was wrong and he was on your side, he’d tell you that he loved you and respected you, and it didn’t matter how long you took to forgive them he was sure the relationship would heal.
He’s so lost in thought he doesn’t realise how far he’s travelled, it’s only when there’s still no sight of you his grin begins to fade. He should’ve caught up to you by now, this was the route you normally take, and you knew better than to go another way.
What if… no. You wouldn’t dare leave again, you wouldn’t. Jungkook breaks into a sprint, running every route he can think of, not stopping for a moment even when his lungs and legs burn. He’s looking round like a mad man, but he can’t find you. What if something happened? What if someone got to you or hurt you? Memories flash in his mind to long, long ago when that was almost the case. What if?
Shit. A hand to his pocket tells him he’s left his phone, he couldn’t contact the others to join him. His best decision was to get back to the house asap. Jin would still have the tracker on your phone, they would find you, it was all going to be fine.
The fear that seized his heart was not fooled by such idealistic thoughts, his eyes had seen the true brutality of the world, sometimes caused by his own hands, and now his mind played a myriad of images of his little love in all the situations of pain he caused others. He always wondered if karma would catch him one day, he never thought it would take you.
He slams the door open so hard it struggles to stay on the hinges.
“I CAN’T FIND HER!” He yells into the open space of the home with all the air in his lungs.
It doesn’t take long for the hoard to assemble.
“What do you mean you can’t find her?” Jin yells back, reaching for his phone to track you without prompt.
Jungkook doesn’t miss the way Namjoon glares at Yoongi, the shorter man ignoring him.
“She’s probably taken another route,” he says calmly. 
“You better hope that’s all,” Namjoon says through gritted teeth. 
“What if someone’s got her?” Jimin panics.
“No,” Hoseok shuts that idea down, “everyone knows there is nowhere in Seoul to hide from us.”
“There’s always one idiot that’s willing to try, or have you forgotten the last time someone tried to take her?” Taehyung says heatedly.
“And we know how that ended,” Hoseok growls back.
The bickering among themselves grows in volume, so loud that they almost miss what Jin says. 
“What?” It’s Yoongi that dares to ask him to repeat himself, the drumming in his ears drowning the words. He must’ve misheard…
“She’s at the police station,” there’s no mistaking it this time. Jin looks solemnly at Namjoon while all their heads spiral.
“She’s not gone there of her own will,” Yoongi shakes his head in denial, “they’ve arrested her or something.”
Namjoon says eerily quiet, his breathing hard, his jaw clenched. 
“Namjoon we own the police,” Hoseok pushes, “make a fucking call see why she’s there.”
“Fuck making a call! I’m going over there,” Jungkook announces, turning back to the front door, but the sight of a police van pulling up at their mansion makes him stop in his tracks. 
“Are they dropping her home,” Jimin asks stupidly, unable to comprehend why else they would be there. 
The older four men look at eachother knowingly. 
“Should we run?” Jin asks, making Taehyung and Jimin whip their heads to stare at him incredulously. 
“Why would we run?” Namjoon breaks his silence, “they’ll take us right to her.”
As if on queue a smoke grenade rolls into the room, blasting off within seconds, covering the air. Namjoon almost laughs, they sent the fucking swat team, how ridiculous when they could’ve settled this like gentlemen.
Bodies swarm in, yelling commands and they all fall to their knees as instructed. On any other day, if you were home, these men wouldn’t make it through the door, but Namjoon was right, they were a one way ticket to finding you.
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piedinthepiper · 21 days
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Prima Ballerina ˖ ⊹
Yandere!Jimin x ballerina!reader
Summary: What’s the difference between a great ballerina and the greatest ballerina? The answer is Park Jimin. And he had his eyes on you in more than a professional way.
Warnings: heavy dubcon, Jimin is super cocky and thinks he knows everything (misogyny?), cursing, corruption, Jimin is also a creep, age gap (reader is of legal age), stalking (non descriptive), smut
Wc: 4.3k
A/n: Written for this request. I love black swan and ballet so I had to do this! Hope you enjoy! Don’t be a silent reader! Like, repost and comment!
Disclaimer: This is 100% fiction. I am in no way saying that this is how any member of bts would act. Nor do I condone the actions detailed in the story. This is purely for entertainment purposes only. If any of the warnings trigger you, or you’re under 18 ¡do not read! I’m not your mother, and I don’t take any accountability for what you decide to read online!
Another disclaimer: I know nothing about ballet except for whatever ballet they show in the Barbie movies. Everything is off Google, so some technical terms and such might be incorrect.
You did a final jump before the dramatic music came to an end. His eyes were piercing through you. Watching your every movement, your every step, your every breath. But he watched you all, you thought to yourself. Everybody had to be perfect for the premiere of Swan lake. The hardest and most demanding ballet you had ever danced in your career. The choreography was almost impossible. So Mr. Park had yet again kept you there for hours overtime, and all of you were exhausted.
“Agh, my feet hurt. I hope this was the last round.”
Your friend, Maria, whispered to you. You smiled at her and was about to answer, when a loud clap was heard throughout the room. It silenced everyone.
“Ms. Sanderson, do you have something to tell the company?”
Mr. Park locked eyes with her. Staring her down from across the room like a predator. She looked a bit tongue tied for a second.
“Ehm- no. No, Mr. Park.”
He nodded at her answer.
“I do think I heard complaining back there, are you sure you didn’t say anything?”
She looked down to the floor and carefully shook her head.
“I don’t believe you, you’re pathetic. Out of my studio!”
He yelled at her and pointed a sharp finger towards the exit. Her eyes continued to stay on the floor. Accepting her fate.
“I said it!”
You yelled back and raised your hand. His eyes turned back to you.
“Bold of you, Ms. y/l/n. Thanks to you all the swans have to practice for another hour. The rest are dismissed.”
The room was filled with sighs and groans.
“Ok, let’s make that two.”
No one uttered a single word, afraid that the time would get longer.
“That’s what I thought. You, come with me.”
He briefly pointed at you, before he started to walk out of the practice room.
“The rest of you can take a 10 minute break.”
Maria looked at you with a apologetic look.
“Thank you, y/n.”
She said and grabbed your hand. You gave her a small smile. Of course you would stand up for her. She was your best friend in the company.
“Yeah, thanks a lot y/n.”
One of the other girls said sarcastically. You didn’t pay it any mind, you would also be furious if someone made you stay two hours overtime when you already were on overtime. You grabbed your leg warmers.
“No worries, you know I got you.”
You comforted Maria, before you started walking towards the exit. You knew Mr. Park went to his office. It wasn’t your first time being scolded.
“Sit down.”
He said once you entered. He was already sitting behind his desk. You sat down opposite of him, leaning down to slide into your leg warmers.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Park.”
You started off with. Trying to sound as apologetic as possible. He sighed.
“Do you think I do this for fun, y/n?”
You got up from your crouched position and looked him in the eyes.
“No I don’t.”
He was one of the best ballet teachers and directors in the whole world. It was obviously an honour just to be able to dance for him. But you knew he had a soft spot for you for some reason. That’s why you were comfortable taking Maria’s place.
“I would much rather be at home as well, relaxing and eating a good meal. But there would be no Swan lake, and there would be no good ballerinas without me.”
He pulled his hand through his black hair in stress. It was slicked back like usual, but throughout the day a few strands had loosened.
“If everyone stopped practicing at five o’clock like scheduled, the premiere would be nothing but chaos. Do you understand that, y/n?”
You nodded. He looked you up and down for a second. Taking in your form. He slowly got up and walked towards you. He grabbed your chin harshly, making you look back up at him.
“I’ve been observing you for the last days, you truly are far too beautiful and talented to be just a swan.”
You raised your eyebrows at his sudden compliment.
“You’re prima ballerina material, for sure.”
His hand slid to the side of your face, cupping your jaw.
“Too bad I have to fire you.”
“What?!”
Your eyebrows crossed as you shook your head out of his grip. His hand went into his pocket, making him look surprisingly relaxed.
“The two of us, let alone the entire company, knows that this isn’t your first time being sent to my office.”
You looked at him in shock. You couldn’t believe what he was saying.
“If I don’t give you the consequences, it’s going to look suspicious.”
You shook your head. He was going to fire you just because something as simple as complaining?
“You can’t do that.”
“I’ll do whatever I want with my ballerinas.”
He smirked again, before walking to stand right in front of you. You looked up and down his long body. Before looking back at him with your most innocent, but still sultry eyes.
“Please don’t fire me, Mr. Park. You wouldn’t do that to me would you?”
He cocked his head at your plea. Scanning you up and down yet again. He had a puzzled look on his face.
“Don’t test me.”
You grabbed his hand as you fell down to your knees. You knew he liked it when you begged. And since this was a life or death situation for your career, you didn’t mind being a little extra.
“I’ll do anything. Please just let me continue to dance for you. I’m nothing without you. I can’t- you can’t-”
You knew what buttons to push. His ego was too big to not take the bait.
“You’re right. It would be a shame to waste your potential.”
He lifted your head up again by your chin. A sudden sexual tension hit you, once you saw the outline of his bulge. You knew your actions had an effect on him, but not to that extent.
“It would be a shame to waste such a pretty face.”
You tried your best to look him in the eyes. It was hard to not shy away at a situation like that, even for you.
“Please, Mr. Park.”
He inhaled sharply, before he broke out in a smile.
“I forgive you, y/n. I can’t live with myself if I don’t give you another chance.”
You smiled up at him as well, preceding to get back up on your feet. But his arm found your shoulder and stopped you in your ascend.
“Wait.”
He warned you, and you quickly sat back down on your knees.
“I like seeing you like this, it’s not often you look so- submissive.”
Chills ran down your spine at his words. You definitely did not take that as a compliment. You were quite fiery, yes. And in any normal situation you would never let a man speak to you like he did. But the fear of losing your job, combined with the reverence you felt towards him, made you defy yourself.
“After this season I want you to take private lessons with me. Every Tuesday and Thursday.”
You nodded carefully, not looking up at him.
“Don’t look so down, darling. I’ll make you my next prima ballerina.”
“He said what?”
Maria half whispered in shock.
“Ms. Sanderson.”
Mrs. Petrova, your instructor, who was so old she probably was alive when swan lake was composed, hushed her. Maria looked at her before looking down at her moving feet. The company was warming up, standing in clean lines against the railing, moving to the rhythm of the slow classical music.
“Not only did he not fire you.”
She whispered once Mrs. Petrova was at the other end of the room.
“But he also said he would make you a prima ballerina?”
You nodded.
“Switch to third position!”
The two of you switched.
“Wow, you are so lucky. Mr. Park hasn’t had a prima ballerina in years.”
You smiled at her, and lifted you head higher when Mrs. Petrova walked by. You remained silent until you knew she was far enough away.
“I’m happy of course, it’s just- I don’t know. There’s something weird about him.”
“Yeah he’s like really cocky.”
She answered and held back a laugh.
“That too, but he’s just eerie. Like I don’t know if I want to spend so much time with him alone.”
“Ms. y/l/n! Would you like to share something with the company? Or do I have to send the two of you to Mr. Parks office?”
Mrs. Petrova suddenly bursted out. You locked eyes with Maria. Not knowing what to answer the old hag.
“We were just talking about-“
“Boys, just boys.”
You interrupted Maria. Not wanting her to say anything about you or Mr. Park. Mrs. Petrova gave the two of you a strict look, before the music started playing again.
“Please focus on your movements, not the opposite gender.”
She scolded before walking away from the two of you.
“And fourth position!”
“He just kept looking at me weirdly, and telling me that I’m beautiful and shit.”
You said as the two of you were walking down towards the cafeteria for lunch.
“Oh my god! He probably has a crush on you or something!”
Maria said a little bit too loud. You poked her in her side with your elbow.
“Please, keep it down.”
She started laughing, and you quickly followed. As you turned a corner you crashed into something. Or rather someone. A hand snuck around you waist, keeping you from falling. You looked up, finding the familiar brown eyes.
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Park. I didn’t see where I was going.”
He looked at you for a second, before smiling. He didn’t let go of your waist, and when you became aware of that you awkwardly stepped away from him.
“No harm done.”
He simply said and walked away. You looked over at Maria.
“I get it.”
She simply said as you started walking again.
“Right?”
You asked, looking back at her as she tried to keep up with you.
“What ever look he just gave you was not the look you give to someone you have a crush on.”
The season had ended, for a minute you felt relief. Knowing you had time off now to just relax before the next season. But as you read the message on your phone, you felt that relief fade away.
“Studio 5, next Thursday at 07.00 am. Don’t be late.”
You sighed, was this really what you wanted? Of course it was a dream come true to potential become Mr. Parks new prima ballerina. But you couldn’t help but feel weird about that time in his office. It seemed like he had other intentions in mind. Mr. Park was an attractive man yes, but he was way older than you and you didn’t want his attention in that way. He was your teacher, your mentor. Not a potential hook up. You didn’t see him in that way, and you hoped against all odds that he didn’t see you like that either.
What you didn’t know was that in that moment, outside on the dark street. He was there. Looking at you through your window. Watching your puzzled look at his text. He didn’t know his intentions fully yet either. But he did know they were not good.
“Higher.”
He simply said as he watch you dance to the music. It was your fifth lesson together, and everything was going well. You hadn’t seen the side of him that you saw when he proposed this idea. And you were enjoying yourself, getting these private lessons had really helped you improve. In the next second arabesque, you lifted your leg even higher. Showing him that you listened. But he still shut the music off. You stepped down from your tips, looking at him as he walked up to you.
“Turn around.”
He said once he reached you. And you did as instructed. You looked at him through the big mirrors.
“Do your second arabesque.”
You stood back up on your toes, and gracefully bent into a second arabesque.
“Look at yourself in the mirror.”
He said, and you did. You instinctively pushed your leg even further up, once you saw your own reflection.
“Now back to full position.”
You moved your face upwards again, looking away from the mirror. You felt his hands touch your waist. He straightened your back, before one of his hands went to your lifted leg.
“Look back at yourself.”
He almost whispered in your ear, now with one hand on your waist, and the other holding your leg higher than what you were comfortable with. You smiled once you saw yourself. Your arabesque looked different, more sophisticated.
“When you do your second arabesque, or any arabesque for that matter. Remember this. Straight back and high leg.”
He said in a low comforting tone once he saw your smile. You nodded, and stepped down from your tippy toes. He let go of your leg, but moved that hand to the other side of your waist.
“Think of me holding your waist, it’ll help you stabilise.”
He whispered now, you felt his warm breath on the back of your neck. You turned to look at him.
“Thank you.”
You muttered. His eyes immediately fell to your lips, and in a split second his lips were on yours. You were caught off guard, and didn’t respond at first. But once it dawned on you what was happening you quickly moved your face away from his. You felt his hands on your waist tighten.
“Please don’t ever do that again.”
You looked up at the mirror, wanting to see his reaction. He was looking you dead in the eye, with anger written all over his face. He leaned down to kiss your bare shoulder, still maintaining eye contact. Before he deeply whispered.
“I’ll do whatever I want with my ballerinas.”
His hand moved up to your face as he turned to kiss you yet again. You pushed him away, and tried to make a run for it. But he snaked his arm around your chest.
“Let me go!”
You struggled against him, now scared of what would happen if you didn’t get away. Your fight or flight instinct kicked in and you elbowed him as hard as you could in his side. His hand loosened and you ran. But not quick enough. He grabbed you by your arm and threw you into the big mirror. It was pure luck that it didn’t shatter. His body locked you in.
“Hush, I won’t hurt you.”
He said, and for a second you stopped fighting. You were out of breath, but still managed to give him a death glare.
“Let me go!”
You tried once again. He shook his head.
“Do you think I just give away free lessons? Don’t you think you need to repay me?”
You felt something hard against your abdomen. You wanted to cry, you didn’t know what to do. His face shifted once he saw your eyes watering.
“No, no. I’m not a rapist, y/n! God no. But if you want to be my prima ballerina. You have to get your priorities straight.”
You clung onto the little bit of relief you felt from his words.
“I’ve tried my best to stay away, y/n. I really have. But there’s just something about you.”
You felt his hips grind against yours.
“You make me fucking crazy. I can’t wait any longer. I need you.”
He let out a small moan at the friction. A tear fell down your face.
“Please, Mr. Park. Let me go.”
You sobbed. He hushed you again.
“I’ll let you go. Just listen to me.”
You took a deep breath, collecting yourself as much as you could.
“By next Thursday I want an answer. Either you show up or you don’t. Don’t be late.”
He pushed himself off the wall and gave you one last look before slowly walking out the studio. Leaving you alone in the big dance room. What the fuck have you gotten yourself into?
“I don’t know what to do, Maria. This is like a fucking nightmare!”
You said sobbing onto Marias lap as she comforted you. You called her the minute you got home, knowing that she already knew most of the backstory. She immediately came over to your place, wanting to be there for you in a situation like this. You were forever great full for having a friend like her.
“You have to report this. Surely the police could do something about him.”
She said in a calm voice, stroking your hair lightly. You sat up in your bed, wiping your tears away from your swollen face.
“Would they though?”
You asked defeated. Mr. Park was a rich and famous man. You wanted to believe Marias theory, but the hard sad truth was that you didn’t stand a chance against him. Especially with no proof.
“Either I don’t show up and give up my career or-“
You paused, collecting your thoughts.
“Or you give that bastard what he wants.”
Maria finished for you. Knowing exactly what you were thinking.
“Look, being Jimin Parks prima ballerina is huge. It really is, but- I don’t know, is it really worth it? Is it really worth loosing your dignity for a life of fame?”
She asked you with a worried face. You blinked away your tears, not wanting to cry anymore.
“What else would I do? I’ve been dancing my entire life, everything I’ve ever done has lead up to this moment. I can’t-“
You shook your head, not letting the emotions take control over you again.
“I have to show up, I have to talk some sense into him. I can’t give up now. I just can’t.”
You looked down at your hands in your lap as you felt a comforting hand on your shoulder.
“You could go to college, get a degree, get a nine to five. Anything but this, please I can’t watch you go through with this. It’s not safe to see him again.”
You looked up at her again.
“And be a complete failure? Not only to my parents, to you, to the company, but also to myself. This is all I’ve ever dreamed of, Maria.”
“You won’t be a failure! You’re an amazing dancer, you have real talent. But it’s not worth it.”
You shook your head. You had already made up your mind.
“I’m sorry.”
You mumbled. Maria sighed and got up from the bed.
“You do you, girl. But you better not call me crying next Thursday. I won’t feel bad for you.”
She said before walking out your room. You were alone with this now. But like you told her, you couldn’t give up on your dream. No matter the cost.
Thursday. You were sweating. A lump had formed itself inside your stomach, and it was impossible to to ignore it. You took what felt like your last breath before you opened the door to the studio. He stood in the other end, hands crossed over his chest, with a smirk plastered on his lips.
“You’re late.”
His voice rang through the big room, leaving an echo. You stepped into the room, the door shutting behind you. Another echo filling the otherwise dead silent room. You didn’t walk towards him, you stayed by the door. The silence making the lump in your stomach grow even larger.
“What are you doing?”
He asked, still with a slight smirk.
“Come here, we have dancing to do.”
You didn’t know what to do. Your entire body was screaming for you to run out the door and never look back. But your brain didn’t let you move.
“Come over here, y/n. Right now!”
He said in a strict tone, once you didn’t listen. Your own feet moved against your own will, as you slowly started moving forward. You put your bag down on your way.
“Good girl.”
He said, barely audible. But you heard it. All your senses were sharpened. He watched you like a predator, as you can closer and closer. You stopped at a reasonable distance. Close enough to have a conversation with him, but still just out of reach.
“Why so gloomy? You’ve made the biggest decision in your life, baby.”
He stepped closer to you. Every single muscle in your body tensed as his hand met your face in a loving embrace.
“I’m going to make you a star.”
He whispered. You shook your head.
“I don’t want to have sex with you, Mr. Park.”
His smile faded at your words. You straightened your back, trying your best to seem confident and not afraid of the man standing in front of you.
“This is all I’ve ever dreamt of. It’s all I’ve ever worked for. But I refuse to think that this is the only way I can get what I want.”
You said as you tried to conceal the shaky breath escaping your mouth.
“Please, I don’t want to sleep my way to fame. I want to earn it. So tell me, do you see a true and genuine prima ballerina in me. Or am I just a piece of meat?”
He looked at you directly in your eyes. You didn’t break eye contact. You were not giving up, not yet. He broke out in laughter after a few seconds of staring into your soul.
“Oh, y/n. Please.”
He continued laughing, as if this whole thing was a joke. You stayed as serious as ever.
“This is what I like about you. You’re so stubborn, so strong. You don’t see that often around here.”
He turned serious in a split second.
“Why would I be lying to you? Huh? I can sleep with whoever I want. If I wanted just a one night stand I’d pick one of the other girls. Someone easier to manipulate.”
His hand slid around your waist, pulling you close to him.
“I’m a man of my word, y/n. I see potential in you, I wouldn’t just say that to anyone.”
His eyes flickered down to your lips. You instinctively turned your head away, opting to looking at the two of you in the mirror. He looked back at you in the reflection.
“I see my next prima ballerina.”
He said and pointed at the mirror.
“You’re not just beautiful and talented, you have a strong mind. You’re perfect.”
You sighed, looking back at him.
“Why would you waste it all?”
He asked and softly caressed your chin. Your gaze flicked down, wanting to look anywhere but him. He was right, why would you waste the opportunity to have everything you’ve ever wanted?
“It’s honestly a package deal. You get fame and fortune, and good sex. I don’t see what the problem is honestly.”
You looked back up at him again. Trying to conceal the ick you just got.
“Fine. I’ll do it.”
His face turned into a devilish grin.
“Join me in my office.”
He hastily got rid of your bollero, throwing it onto the floor. The second you stepped into his office his lips were on yours. Your fate was sealed, there was no return now. He grabbed at your hips harshly, digging his fingers into you with desperation and lust. He lifted you up, and you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist. He walked over to his desk, leaving your lips for a moment to push whatever was on it onto the floor. It all hit the floor and made a loud crashing noise. He placed you onto the desk, continuing his heated attack of your lips.
“I’ve been waiting for this for so long, baby.”
He said in between kisses. Working on your wrap around skirt and tights. You lifted yourself off the desk so he could slide your garments off. Leaving you in your underwear and tank top.
“You have no idea how crazy you’ve made me. How many sins I’ve done in your favour.”
His lips crashed back onto yours. You started thinking of your career as you heard him removing his belt. Preparing yourself for what was to come. He pushed your upper body down onto the desk, making your head dip over the edge of the desk. You looked at his office upside down, staring at the expensive painting hanging on the wall. You felt him sliding your underwear to the side.
“What a pretty pussy you have, baby.”
He said before sliding himself into you, making you moan as you felt yourself being filled up.
“Better than I ever imagined.”
He groaned as he started to slowly move. You continued to look at the painting of the ballerina with a bouquet in her hands bowing down in a gracious pose. Your hands found his forearms, digging your nails into his skin. Your breath got heavy as you felt his speed increase.
But still you focused on the ballerina. You imagined it was you. Maybe that would be you after this. Bowing deeply to the applause of hundreds, maybe even thousands of people in the audience. They all applauding you. You moaned loudly once he hit a good spot.
“You like that? You want it, huh?”
“Yes.”
You said in a shaky voice. You wanted this, you wanted this more than anything. This was all worth it in the end. You would be a star, a prima ballerina. Someone little girls looked up to, and adults wanted to be. You would be like that ballerina in the painting. Gracious and beautiful in every way. Everything you ever aspired to be. Everything you were meant to be.
“God, I’m gonna-“
You belonged here. On that desk. In that studio. Alone on a stage, bowing to the audience after the greatest performance of their lives. You were Mr. Park’s new prima ballerina.
——————————————————————————
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365 notes · View notes
thvlouvre · 10 months
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[One-shot]
Little Mouse — Park Jimin (Part 1)
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✔︎ Summary: the principal's son, the reason why you can't enjoy school and the reason why you can't leave it finds out you're having a date with somebody that isn't him. ✔︎ Word Count: 7.6k (first part) ✔︎ Trope: Bully Yandere Jimin x Chubby brazilian oc, enemies to lovers (?), smut ✔︎ Warnings: 19 year old jimin (because he's hot asf), bullying, fat shaming, self esteem issues, evil teenagers, physical violence, gore, degradation, jimin is obnoxious, se*ual tension, bratty reader, jealousy, possessive Jimin, stalking. ✔︎ thvlouvre's note: honestly it's been a hell of a week for me and to write this one has been a little difficult, and since it's been 10 days and it's still not ready I wanted to post the first part at least, maybe your feedback will motivate me 🫶🏻❤️ thank u again to the lovely @lilliankoo for her help and proofreading this! part 2 coming out later when this flu is goneeee 🤧 ✔︎ Part 2 | Main masterlist.
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“Sorry, but you seem to be fully recovered, I can’t give you another day” the doctor said while checking with a lamp over  your eyes, moving around the flashlight from one extreme to the other making your sight follow it. 
“I still feel dizzy, though” you lied, trying to play dumb so you could get one more day at least. 
“That might be because you’re not eating well, you look pale and tired” the doctor turned off the lamp and put  it inside his coat pocket, at the mention of food your stomach twisted needy “If the blow on your head isn’t because you fell off, and it was something else you should tell me, is somebody bothering you __?”
You stared at him, his silver hair and greyish skin making him look like someone you could trust, but at the same time remembering you were not one of them, you were just another foreigner in that hell’s school, and everybody was up to his service. 
You moved here six months ago, when you won a scholarship to a franchise of your own high school in another country, same classes, same uniform, same installations, different language, and people. It was very exciting and new, it was all fun and games until he saw his next victim  in you  to unleash his devilish games. 
Park Jimin. The top-notch student. 
Handsome and rich, great manners and great body paired with a beautiful smile, but his eyes were from another world. Cold, lifeless, evil. Every single time he glanced at you, you could feel the contempt he had for you, the hateful and vicious disgust he felt for you. And he was never alone, he surrounded himself with a litter of creeps, bootlickers that did whatever he told them to do. 
His aggressions started by being harmless, they were playful even. He would drink a sip from your strawberry milk and return it almost empty. It didn’t bother you, you had a fridge in your room full of those. He would steal your pencils or change your backpack and books to the last chair of the room when you went to the restroom in the middle of the class. Yes, they were annoying, but initially you thought he was just a joker and that he liked to prank you because you were the new girl. 
It all became insufferable when you made the mistake of taking a second bottle of strawberry milk with you one day, and just when he had arrived next to you to steal yours, you took out the second milk and hand it to him. 
“What’s this?” he asked annoyed.
“Strawberry milk” you answered, your thick  Brazilian accent floating in the air. 
“I know it’s strawberry milk, what do you want me to do with it?”
“It’s for you” you said, your smile shining under the sunlight “You always take my milk, I guess you like it, so I brought one for you” He stayed in silence for two minutes, just looking at you confused, why would you bring something to him when he has being awful with you?
“I’m ____, by the way, I’m new” you extended your hand to greet him formally, but he interrupted you again. 
“I know your name, I know you’re new” he said, not even bothering to hold your hand “Do you know who I am?” 
“No” and just when you were about to ask him his name, he opened the pink bottle and pour it above your head, your neat and clean uniform getting all spilled with pink milk and your hair wet and sticky. “Park Jimin, my father is the principal so don’t you forget that honey” and he left, the student’s eyes following you after you ran to the toilet to clean  yourself.
His attacks continued getting meaner and meaner each day, but ultimately he would always ask his gang to do something wrong to you while he would just watch. For an unknow reason, when he was with his gang his attacks were lighter, just him mocking you or insulting you, making you the laughingstock of the class, always pointing at how out of shape you were.
When his group of friends were alone, not a sight of Jimin around, that’s when they would get violent, throwing your body between them in a circle, pushing you, pulling your hair. Four days ago, one of his friends hit your head with a locker door and left you unconscious in the hallway, that’s why you were so insistent with the doctor to give you another day of inability due to your injury. 
You were getting tired and regretful of coming here in the first place. In your hometown, your country, you were the most popular girl of the school, everybody loved you and no one ever laughed at your body shape. Having curves was normal for them, but here… they seemed to hate it. You stopped eating because of that. 
“I can’t give you another day, you told me that you tripped over the stairs” that’s what you said, because if you tell the principal or any other teacher that his son and his friends were making your life a living hell they  wouldn’t do anything about it, you’ve tried, many times. You went with a teacher, and they seemed interested at first, but as soon as you dropped his name they froze and told you to go with the prefect. You went with the prefect, and when you told him it was Jimin the one bothering you he told you go with the school coordinator, and the list kept going.
No one ever did anything. 
“No one is helping! I’ve been with the discipline coordinator so many times and he keeps telling me to come back to you and make you pass the memo to the principal” you said  to the principal’s secretary. At this point, you knew they would never let him know what his son was up to, but you still held  hope that someone will pity you and stop this madness.
“Listen, I won’t be the one telling the principal that his son is committing harassment to another student, if he was a nice and fair man I would but if you think Jimin is despicable, his father is ten times worst” the secretary, who was clearly tired of you and her job in general, spitted in between her teeth “I suggest you to go yourself if you are brave enough, but one thing is sure, he won’t care, he never cares when it comes to his son” 
You swallowed nervously, trying to hide your fear and helplessness. 
On your way out of the office,  they found you. 
“Look who is here!” one of the boys said, his name was Chanwook and he was Jimin’s second hand. He was taller and skinnier, but that didn’t prevent him from throwing you to the walls and floor as strongly as he could. He was the one who hated you the most, just after Jimin himself, of course “Oh, no guys, she’s coming out of the principal’s office, she’s a sneak!” he faked preoccupation with a pout.
“Sneaky little bitch!” that was Meeyon, the alleged girlfriend of Jimin. And only alleged because Jimin himself never held  her hand, kissed her or acted sweetly towards her in public, actually he would ignore her whenever she started to act mellow with him with people around. But everybody knew he fucks her on a regular basis “You weren’t satisfied with being ugly but you’re also a snitch fat bitch” 
She grabbed you by the chin and held  your face close to hers “Jimin will know about this” 
“Jimin would throw her from the stairs” the sadistic voice of Chanwook sounded overly excited with the perspective of pushing you off the stairs and see how much it would take you to faint. You gasped because that sounded more like a Chanwook’s wish, Jimin never got physical with you, he just fucks with your mind and emotions. It wasn’t better, but still.
“I think Jimin would actually make her run in the court” Junghae suggested and made the other two laugh, “We should make her run until she can’t breathe” he said eating his sandwich carelessly. Junghae was the stupidest guy you’ve ever met, saying his dumbest thoughts out loud and pretending they weren’t mean at all. 
You felt the panic paralyzing your body, the fear and angst running and making you want to cry but holding it. You tried to walk past them, walking by the side to the main door, but Junghae grabbed you by the hand and pulled your arm back with them again, his hand hurting your wrist, making you  feel the blood accumulating where he was touching you. 
“Where do you think you’re going? It’s already 4 o’clock and we are not done with you…” the way his voice was always threatening made you shiver, his eyes always burnt with the deepest and purest type of hate; as if he for real wanted to see you lying on the floor lifeless. 
You tried to run away, but they chased you and Chanwook hit your head with the door locker and left you there when your body laid for five minutes unconscious. A person from the cleaning department found you and called the ambulance. 
They gave you a five-day inability, taking classes over the webcam and sending the home works via the email, it was paradise. You didn’t want it to end. 
“I need you to tell me if someone is bothering you, __” the doctor said again, but you shook your head nervously. 
“No, I’m fine. I-I just tripped” you didn’t sound convince and judging by the fear in your eyes he knew you weren’t.
“You know I work to a medical agency and not the school, right?” he mentioned, like wanting to clarify his job position to you “I go wherever my agency tells me to go, my superior is my hospital manager not the principal, I can report any harassment and bring the Ministry of Education if necessary.” 
“No, it’s okay, I-“
“__, is it Mr. Park’s son?”
Your silence was his answer, he was familiarized with his manias.
“I can call my supervisor but he’s on vacation, he will be back in two weeks, until then you can always come to the nursery room, I’ll hide you here” and finally let you go, feeling protected at last.
You went to the grocery store that afternoon, resign that you would come back to the school routine of wake up, sleep in class and get hurt, so you decided to treat yourself and eat some candies while watching a tv show on your laptop. There was a grocery store half a street near where your student’s residency building was, so you always went there to shop. 
You picked a regular black skirt, a white tank top and red converse. Your loved gummies, they were your favorite snack, so you picked three different flavors, cherry soda, pop corns, ice cream and chocolate bars. You let your full basket fell with the cashier but there was a little card that said: I went to the restroom; I’ll be back soon. 
You waited patiently there, taking your phone out to scroll a little when the bell on the front door rang and you didn’t turn around to see, your attention fixated on a video of a kitten playing with a rubber duck.
Jimin got into the store without any hopes of you being there, but in the months you’ve been in school with him he discovered where you lived and he figured you would usually buy your stuff here, since it was the closest grocery shop to your building. It was very far away from his house, he lived in a very nice area where all the houses where big, majestic, and empty. This neighborhood was economically different from his, but there he was. 
All the times he came here you were never present. Once or twice, he saw you coming out, making him regret not hurrying up enough to catch you inside for a minute or two. So when he enters the store this time, his hope is all gone, not really believing you would be there but holding to the routine; until he sees you. 
You were turning your back to him, your exquisite voluptuous figure bending over the checker waiting for the cashier to come back, your ass perked out and bouncing to the rhythm of the music coming out of your phone and your hair pulled on a messy hair bun. You had a red ribbon adorning your hair bun. He froze when he caught the nudity of your legs in that short skirt and images of your red converse stepping on him pleased him. 
He coughed his throat softly, trying to swallow and picked random shit from the store. He hurried because even when he wanted to make it seem casual, he wanted to talk to you. He opened the fridge and grabbed a can soda, chips and condoms. He drank your silhouette from behind before talking and ruining your day. Your legs were thick and soft, just the way legs should be. 
He remembered the day he saw them for the first time, it was on your first week after moving, you were using the EP uniform, but it was slightly different from the rest of the girl’s uniform. It was a short, and that was the regular uniform on your country, sports skirt or shorts. You were the only student showing off your legs and you seemed like it didn’t matter, running and jumping like nothing, and he wanted you for that. 
You had something he didn’t: confidence.
Actual confidence and not like his fake performance of being powerful and feared because of his position. Here you were nothing, nobody knew you or your family, and yet you were so free and powerful. Maybe that was why he felt the need to tear you down. 
“You’re not eating all that, are you?” he teased, and he felt proud when he saw your back arch in defense recognizing his voice without looking at him, your body language responding to the sound of his voice so quick. He reached the checker as well, and placed his stuff right next to you, watching the basket and the products “You eat for two, uh?” 
“And what if I do? that’s none of your business” you responded infuriated and he loved the way you would never back off, you would always put him in his place and were never afraid of talking back. He was the powerful  here, but you never let him walk over you, that was why he became addicted to bullying you so fast. 
“Actually, it is my business because as you know I'm president of the ecology club and this month's homework is to raise awareness about whales” and looked down your body, scanning you from your sun kissed skin to your boobs that were displaying over the tank top’s low neck. You thought he was judging you but the reality was that Jimin was memorizing, so he could use his imagination later. 
“And when are you going to raise awareness about the scarcity of your brain?” 
“When you tell for who all that food is” he spoke trying to control his laugh, he really loved your quick and smart answers, they made his day better. 
You doubt to say it, because he would mock in your face and call you a liar, but he already did that every day, so you happily responded him: “Believe it or not, I have a date.” 
His heart got numb. You couldn’t be having a date, why would anyone pick you for a date? Ever since the day you arrived, he marked you; bullying and harassing you was his way to let everybody know you were damaged merchandise. He isolated you through pranks and insults so everybody would know that if they made friends with you, they would face the same destiny. 
So, why would you be having a date now? 
“Who’s the loser?” he carelessly asked. 
“Why? You’re jealous?” you answered, praying for the cashier to hurry and charge you so you could leave. 
“You wish, I just pity them, sent him my condolences.” He sounded significantly mad, but you didn’t notice since he was always mad when you were around.  
“I will when you rest in peace.”
“Bitch.” He spitted. 
“Asshole.”
The cashier appeared, confused and astonished because on his way to his place he caught pieces of your conversation but he stayed quiet, not wanting to know what was going on between the two of you. 
“Little mouse!” he shouted before you leave the shop, and you hated how your body stopped on his way out as if it was your natural name “Will you go to school tomorrow? The day is boring when you’re not there.”
You rolled your eyes, not answering to his ridiculous question because he knew you were going to be there tomorrow. You hurried to your apartment, and when you prepared all the snacks in front of the couch’s table you noticed your red hair ribbon was missing. It probably fell inside the grocery store, you were about to go back  and ask if they had it but the sound of  a ring on the door pulled your attention and you forgot about it. 
“Taehyung!” you greeted happily, letting  him in. 
“I got you this…” he said shyly  after taking out a small gift package. It was a heart shaped hair pin and it was red, your favorite color. You wore it proudly and turned on the tv, ready to enjoy the comfort of his company. 
Taehyung was a good boy, very nice and kind. He was also a scholarship student, but he was from around, so he didn’t really have a problem blending in and being invisible. You met on your weekly sessions with the school psychologist to check on your process of adapt to the school. You would sit  next to each other, waiting for the psychologist to say your name or his and have your fifteen-minute chat. 
The first weeks he was very quiet, wearing his headphone and watching you from  the corner of his eyes but not talking. You started to feel he was into you when he smiled for a fraction of second when you appeared. One day you became bold and asked him what was he listening, he took his headphones off and put them on you. He was listening to jazz, fancy and old. 
Taehyung knew a little bit of what Jimin and his friends were doing to you because he has seen the bruises on your skin, but you didn’t want him to get involve since him and Jimin had the same age they shared most of the classes. 
“You can’t keep living like this, __” Tae said, seeing the new bruise Chanwook left on your left arm. 
“It’s nothing”
“If you want me I can make a police file, start an investigation” his dad was a police officer, so it made sense his savior complex was a heritage.
“Let’s not talk about that, let’s watch a movie” and both of you started to eat and relax, you even let him kiss you when the movie was over. Sweet and gentle, his hands were on  your cheeks and your cheeks only, like the gentleman he was. 
You forgot about the ribbon, but on the other side of the city Jimin tied it up to his wrist and hid it underneath his shirt sleeve, kissing it and touching it because he had something that belonged to you. It angered him how this was the closest he would ever get to you, if he wasn’t such an asshole and could be more like you, kind and trustworthy. 
The thing with Jimin was that he knew what was going on between you and him, and he wasn’t stupid. He knew that he wanted you, he craved you badly and everyday being far from you was harder and harder. But Jimin had issues, he never learnt how to be friendly, everything was handed to him easily and even his friendships were attached to him under a specific desire they wanted from him. His money, his connections, his power, sex. 
No one had ever been real to him, not even his own father, who ignored him and despised him ever since he could remember. Ever since his mother left the two and broke their family; the hate was mutual though. Jimin hated his father as much as his father hated him, it was fine, he had an entire school ready to lick his shoes. 
Until you came. So bright and sweet. 
You, with your generous curves and your red lipstick, red nails, and red converse. It was the perfect color for you because every time he pictured you, he saw you in red satin sheets. Red, the color of sex and violence. The color for passion and blood. He watched you from afar the first week after you arrived, and he noticed you were kind and open, gifting your smiles and your laughs to everyone who would look in your direction, but not him. You weren’t interested in him, mainly because no one had told you who he was or maybe you did knew and simply didn’t care. 
He found your presence insulting and likable. And if it wasn’t confusing enough already, you gifted him a strawberry milk bottle after he started to bother you, that got him off the waterline, destabilized him and made him sink. The reality of his horrible persona hit him like a truck, and to this new sensation of warmness and affability he responded with the only way he knew: hurting  you. 
Every day he saw your kind eyes lose their shine and become angrier, bitter. They would light up just when he showed up in front of you, with hate and resentment and for the first time in his life someone was looking at him with realness. He was the cause of a real emotion behind someone’s gaze, and he found that amazing. 
Why couldn’t he just say hello like a normal nineteen-year-old? No, the only way he could show you how much he wanted you was hurting you and haunting you, making sure you would never try to cross that line of goodness ever again with him, but also having you close enough he could consume your mind and your days, making him the only thing you could think of. Because the most similar thing to love was hate, and he wanted you to hate him with all your heart. 
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You walked down the aisle, your eyes following the book’s spine, looking for the one you were needing for your essay. You previously had asked the librarian to add you to the waitlist for that specific book, since your school only had one copy of it and it was highly requested. According to the date, the book should be free for you now.
You knelt down to keep looking at the title when a noise pulls you out of your thoughts, the sound of two mouths crashing together and the clicks of tongues came to you from your left and before you could stop yourself you looked in that direction. There he was, the person you hated the most on this planet earth, kissing a blonde girl.
His hands were all over her body, he was facing the hallway and her back was all you could see of her. She had her hands on his black hair and his were moving up and down her thighs, and you recognized him just with one look at his hands. The same hands that would throw your books to the floor, the same hands that had push you and the same hands that pointed at you mockingly.
You didn’t want to see Park Jimin making out with someone, even when you found unbelievable he had the ability to feel something pleasing, you would have swear that man could only feel anger and bitterness inside him, but something about the way he was kissing her kept you interested. He opened his eyes, and without breaking the kiss, he smiled when he recognized you, eyeing you during the kiss.
You could tell his eyes shone with that devilish light of his, and his performance during the hook up got heavier. You collected yourself, remembering your task of finding the book and leave the hell out of there, but the book wasn’t there. There was an empty spot where it was supposed to be, and just when you were about to stand go with the librarian the monster spoke.
“Enjoying the show, little mouse?” his out of breath voice was raspy and profound, he was turn on.
“No, I came here looking for a book as the rest of the people here, this is a library not a motel” you pretend to keep searching even when you knew the book wasn’t there, just to not look at him.
“Oh, wouldn’t it be this book the one you want?” the irony leaking on his voice made you turn around and watch his hand wave a small book, it was indeed The Art of Loving by Erich Fromm.
“Give it to me!” you shouted almost forgetting you were in  a library and someone staring at you with disgust.
“Oh, you want this?” and he shove the book underneath his white buttoned shirt “Sorry, you will have to look for it” the blonde girl laughed at you and Jimin remembered she was there; it always pissed him off how he forgets about other women easily when you are near, it makes his blood burn. You shouldn’t have that much power and being unconscious about it. 
“Get out.” he said to the blonde one, and she widened  her eyes in  surprise “I said get out.” and he pushed her away, he didn’t even let her utter a word while  he was picking  her backpack from the floor and throwing  it to her. 
She ran out of the library and you followed her with your eyes until she disappeared because you were as confused as her; maybe Jimin was indeed a mentally unstable person, you had no other explanation for his abrupt mood swings. 
He stared at you in silence, fascinated with your legs showing off down the uniform skirt in your kneeled position. He walked towards you, grabbing your chin roughly with his fingers. 
"Didn't you wish it was you in  her place?" He speaks, his breathy voice crashing with your face and he smelled like cigarettes and coca-cola "Didn't you want to be praised by me instead of bullied?" 
"I'd rather be your victim than your friend, you're disgusting Jimin, I would do whatever it takes to free myself from you" you spat and before you could add how much you hated him because he grabs you by the neck and forces his mouth on  yours. You protest, your hands on his chest trying to push him away but he's bigger. 
"Whatever it takes, uh?" He repeated, his lips moving above yours, the tip of his nose touching your cupid's arch and his eyes fixated in yours, "so will you be my slave?" 
"You're sick" you responded, trying to push him away, but the harder you tried the strongest his hold was. "I can't believe there's people who genuinely like you"
"You make me sick, one glance at you and I want to throw up"
“Why did you kiss me then? Why don’t you leave me alone?”
“Because I love charity” he smiled, actually finding his own joke funny  "I'm making you a favor just by looking you right in the eye." 
"You are the one who's salivating every time you look at me, Jimin, I'm starting to feel you're in love with me" the voice of the two was starting to get loud, and neither of you noticed when the librarian appears in the hallway. 
"The two of you, I must pleat you to keep the sound low if necessary for you to keep talking, this is a library not the school yard, you can't be shouting in here" the librarian looked at the two of you with stress, and when she notices that it was Jimin himself, her face features softens. 
"Mrs. Chester, he has the book that I reserved for this week, and I need it to finish my essay, I reserved it last week" you defend yourself. 
"Mrs. Chester, I believe we can make an exception per se, and share the book since I need it as well, I'm pretty sure you will understand and any complain about this incident can be notified with my father" he spoke to her with that petulant tone he loved to use, and the old woman opened her eyes impressed at his subtle warning. 
"Miss ___ and I got the book issue covered" he continued. 
"Okay, I'll leave it to you then, keep the tone low" and she walked faster to her place again. 
"Give me the book" you said once again in between your teeth.
"You said 'whatever it takes' and we are about to see how far you're willing to go to set yourself free from me, meet me at the lab at four" and he picked his backpack from the floor and leave you in the library's hallway, scared and hesitant. 
Jimin’s pulse was out of control, on the outside he might seemed relax and nonchalant, as he usually was, but if you paid attention to him you could notice his right hand shaking with need. The same hand that grabbed your chin and pulled your neck closer to him. He was shaking nervously like a virgin, his body excited and hard with the pure action of connecting his lips together. 
The whole morning he kept looking at the clock, wishing the hands would point at four magically. When his last class was over, he picked his stuff ignoring his group of friends speak to him and rushed to the lab. 
You weren’t there, but he would give you time, a couple of minutes, a couple of hours, all the time you needed. He knew you wanted the book and that you also wouldn’t turn down a good fight with him. Hopefully he didn’t wait too long before you and your red aura appeared in front of him, stealing a smirk from his face. 
You hated when Jimin smiled, if God was on your side he would have made him ugly, but the heavens saw in you a victim as well and made him awfully pretty. 
“You came” he spitted trying to hide how happy he was. 
“You have the book, what else could I do?” and you dropped your backpack to the floor, sitting on the first seat of the lab. He was leaning on the teacher’s desk, standing. He stared at you for a while, that day you were wearing a red beret and cherry earrings; sometimes he hated himself for harming such a cute thing like you. 
“What do you want?” you asked exhausted under his scrutiny. 
“How was your date?” he asked, and you frowned confused, why would he be asking that? “You know, the date you told me you had yeste…”
“Yes, I know what date you’re talking about, but why would you ask about that?” 
“Because I want to know.” 
“Why?”
“I want to know who’s my little mouse’s new friend” there it was, the evil glint in  his eyes made its entrance and somehow you felt scared that he found out it was Taehyung. Jimin was volatile and extreme, and you regretted the idea of ever coming, he can keep  the book you could try to replace it with another one. 
“You know what? this is bullshit, you can keep the book” you bended to pick your backpack from the floor but he was faster and he took it away from you, you jump to him trying to reach his extended arm where he had your bag “Give me that! Give me my stuff!”
“Give me a kiss” his voice was raspy, and with every little jump you did his nose was flooded with your smell. Cherry blossom and lemon. 
“You’re sick, Jimin, I won’t give you shit”
“First of all, you already told me that and second, you already gave me that. I’m just asking for another” he laughed at your piss expression, so out of your boxes, so his. You tried to jump over him once more, but you tripped over the desk, falling above him. He catches you by grabbing you by the hips and when you hurried to get off him, he captures you left arm. 
You moaned in pain, the bruise in your forearm still new palpitated when Jimin hold you there and he notice something was wrong underneath the uniform’s shirt. He rolled up your shirt’s sleeve and saw the yellow and purple spot on your skin. It could have been that you fall off or tripped, but it had the shape of a hand. 
“What happened to you?” he asked, his amusement was gone and it was replaced with… Concern? Anger? Great, you must be experiencing head trauma because you were starting to get delusional.
“Nothing, it’s nothing. I’m starting to get tired of people asking me what happened when it’s obvious” you pulled your arm away from his hand, rolling your sleeve back. 
“You’re lying, tell me who did that” he demanded, and you laughed outraged, how dared he? 
“Who did this? You’re asking who did this?” He swallowed when he saw your tired and ironic face, a mix of bitterness and exhaustion that didn’t belong to your sweet features. “Your friends!” you shouted while pointing at him, shaming on him “Your gang of sadistic dogs did this to me! How dare you to ask me as if they don’t act according to your orders?”
“I never told them to hurt you” he stated and for the first time his voice wasn’t sarcastic or mocking, it was simply neutral and serious “I’ve never harmed you physically, I never told them to-“
“You don’t have to, Jimin, when you’re not around they chase me and torture me just because you hate me, the whole school knows it, even the teachers. It’s implicit that they hit me and push me because of you” you let it all out, shouting to him with all your strength, breathing heavily after you’re done and adding “So, if you have a little bit of human decency, you will not ask me obvious questions.”
“Was it Chanwook?” he gave you your backpack and you snatched it from his hands. 
Your silence was his answer. 
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Chanwook’s nose bleed and splashed on Jimin’s uniform jacket. 
“Who asked you to hurt her like that?” Jimin shouted in  his ear, the parking where  he made his friend go was empty, no witnesses around.
“I thought- I thought you would find it funny” he said breathless, his hands trying to crawl away from Jimin’s fist, but the asphalt scraped his palms and Jimin’s expensive boot kicked him on the stomach, feeling his ribs crack.
“I checked her medical record, her five-day inability wasn’t because she fell, was it?” he grabbed Chanwook’s head by his hair, pulling it harshly like Chanwook himself had done many times with your hair.
“Is not a big deal, dude. You were the one who started it all, we just followed you.” 
“What did you do to her?” and Jimin’s foot connected again to his knee. 
“I- I pushed…” Chanwook couldn’t talk, the pain making him howl. 
“What did you do?!” Jimin shouted very close to his ear, losing his patience, his hand getting more intense on his hair.
“I pushed her head to a locker twice, I wanted to see how many times she could take it until she passed out.” 
Jimin saw red. The blood of his eyes expanding on his sight and his sadistic side came out. He pushed Chanwook’s head to his car door twice, but he didn’t pass out. 
“I like this game too, we are going to see how many time you can take it until you pass” Jimin hit his head three more times, but apparently the head of that scumbag was made of titanium cause when he dropped him,  the fucker could still walk. Slow and dizzy, but his shivering knees  made him stand up. 
“Why did you do it?” Jimin asked, lighting up a cigarette and taking off his jacket. He had his sleeves rolled up, and your red ribbon showed on his wrist making him smile “Why would you hurt her like that?” 
“For the same reason as you.” Chanwook answered and Jimin froze “Because I want her.” 
“You want her.” He repeated, the fury accumulating on his burning chest and his butchered knuckles. That was the straw that broke the camel's back.
Chanwook knew Jimin was pissed already, so if he was already fried, why wouldn’t he break it to him? He couldn’t hurt him more. 
“Sorry for being the one telling you, but your mouse has a nice pair of legs, I like to harm her and then I go to jerk-“ Chanwook couldn’t end the sentence because Jimin was tackling him, pushing down to the floor again. His fist went down to his face repeatedly. When Jimin stood  after getting tired, he made sure Chanwook was still breathing. He was, unfortunately.
“It’s little mouse, idiot.” 
He called the police anonymously, saying there was a student being attacked on the parking lot. Jimin took out his belongings to make it seem like an assault and knelt before leaving the place to warn his friend. 
“You will leave the school, get transfer, drop out of high school I don’t care, but if I see you tomorrow morning there you will suffer. You will say people attacked you and stole from you, not a word of this. And if I see you near her, if you dare to talk to her, to breath in her direction, I will come for you just like I have done for everybody who ever disobeyed me, do you understand?”
Chan’s swollen face couldn’t articulate a word, Jimin rolled his eyes to the disgusting scene. 
“Blink if you heard me and understand.” 
Chan blinked, and Jimin stand, ready to walk to his car, murmuring to himself “Why do people mess with what is mine?” 
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The reunion you had with Jimin a couple of days ago left you anxious and uneasy, especially because you haven’t seen Chanwook and the others haven’t mess with you. You walked down the hallway and got to your locker and when you unlocked the door you find a brand-new copy of The Art of Loving, a red gift bow and a card adorning the edition.
No God, please. Don’t let it be from Jimin. 
You opened the card and read on his unmatched calligraphy.
“ ‘Is love an art? Then it requires knowledge and effort’. I will put effort, little mouse, and show you how artistic I can be. Jimin.” 
You were disgusted with his silly words. Was this a prank? It must be, three days ago Jimin was making fun of you because the shirt was too tight to your breasts and he could see the line of your bra, his friends also pointing at the softness of your flesh. 
You didn’t need the book anyways, you bought it on E-book and your essay was almost finish so you threw  it in the garbage, pretending that incident didn’t happened and moving on to your next class. You were unaware that from the other side of the hallway, near to the cleaning closet Jimin was watching you. Confused and sad with the scene of you hating his gift.
Why did you throw it away? 
The rest of the week was awfully peaceful for you. There was no sign of Chan, and Meeyon and the other idiot stopped messing with you. When they would saw you in  the hallways or the yard, they would walk away as if you were infected with something dangerous and contagious. They would not even look in  your direction. You were afraid they were gathering strength to finally come for you and beat you really hard. 
Jimin on the other hand was losing his mind. He has been watching you from afar, and he notices that the shiny gleam that you had in your eyes  was coming back , and he wasn’t the reason for it. He followed you after classes for almost a week, and he didn’t see any  trace of this alleged date guy you told him. 
He was starting to think you came up with it to make him mad, to catch his attention because you craved him as much as he craved you. He was about to leave the coffee shop where you were reading, when a guy appeared next to you and you stood up and greeted him with a kiss. 
A kiss. The kiss you didn’t wanted to give to him. 
His jaw clenched and his fist gripped  his car’s steering wheel controlling his anger. So You were not lying, you had someone indeed. He narrowed his eyes, trying to see who he  was, and then he gets a glimpse of his eyes and recognizes  him, it was a shy boy that always sat at the end of the class, the last seat. What was his name? Taesoo? Taejoon? 
Taehyung. Kim Taehyung.
He watched the two of you a little longer, seeing how you were calm and sweet with him. Punching him in the arm playfully, laughing, covering your mouth when he said something funny, sharing a damn slice of cake.  Cherry cake.  
The next day he decided he would do what he did better. Intimidate you, extorting you.
He stood next to your locker, his backpack to the side and arms crossed on his chest. You appeared on the hallway with a strawberry scarf on  your head and heart shaped earrings, a necklace matching your already annoying and stunning appearance.
“What do you want, Jimin?” you asked bothered with only his  presence near you.
The truth with you was that you knew what was going on between you and him, his incessant tease, his subtle flirtation and his fixation with you. Deep down you prayed your intuition was wrong because if you could ignore his horrible personality and sadistic tendencies, you would be on your knees for Park Jimin.
Thankfully, you still were a reasonable and logic person, you could not ignore his flaws, and you truly felt disgusted and resentment every time you saw him.
“I just wanted to check on my little mouse, how’s your day been ?”
“It was all good, until you came and now it’s ruined” you responded, not even looking at him. You unlocked  your locker and took your books out.
“Glad to hear that, no one has the right to ruin your day but me” he smiled discreetly “Have Meeyon and Junghae mess with you?”
You looked at him, briefly, surprised he was interested in your well-being.
“No, they haven’t, why?”
“Good.”
“Why?” you insisted “Did you tell them something?”
“I told them to stop, they won't even touch a single strand of your hair” his eyes turned darker and narrowed, and your heartbeat raise to the perspective and the rare sensation of Jimin being… Protective?
“Thank you.” You couldn’t believe your words, thanking your abuser for doing the bare minimum, but not having those three around lifted a weight from your shoulders and made your days lighter “What happened with Chan...”
“You will not worry about him anymore; he got what he deserved.”
“What do you mean?” your voice shaked anxiously.
“You won’t see him again.” Jimin smiled satisfied.
“What did you do to him?” you weren’t sorry for whatever happened to Chanwook, he was a despicable human being who liked and enjoyed pain from others, but you were not rejoicing on the fact he could have been harmed because of you.
“Nothing he didn’t do to you. Don’t worry sweetheart, he got transferred, he will be fine” you didn’t like how Jimin’s voice was to mellow, as if you trusted on each other “Speaking of be fine, why don’t you come to my house this evening and work on your essay, I still have the book…”
“I can’t, I have plans already” you cut him, cursing your luck.
“With that Taehyung asshole?” he pushed close your locker door, the sound of metal whipping down the hall, drawing attention.
“Who-?”
“I’ve done my research, all the people who are friends of my little mouse are also my friends.” His face was tainted with craziness and obsession, two things you evoked deeply in Jimin.
“Don’t hurt him.” Was the first thing that came out of your mouth.
“I won’t” he leaned closer to your lips  “I won’t, unless you don’t do something for me” his lowered chest voice was velvety against your ear skin “Met me at the lab at four, don’t be late little mouse.”
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✔︎ TAGLIST: @tae-v-eat @whipwhoops @bunnyca @itachiswaify @sheylamc @samuelfortniteking @rkivewritersblog @mred435 @kthyg @jiminiemochisexybabe (my first taglist, i'm so excited 🤩)
✔︎ thvlouvre's p.s. yes, i couldn't write this without a "who hurt you?" cliché scene . you may already know this, but english isn't my first language, so be kind and understand, take care and stream Park Jimin 💋
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𝒌𝒊𝒎 𝒔𝒆𝒐𝒌𝒋𝒊𝒏
Hiraeth : Yandere!seokjin x female reader (@wildestdreamsblog )
Mold a Pretty Lie : YandereProfessor!jin x undergrad!female reader (@blog-name-idk )
Fools Paradise : YandereStranger!jin x pregnant reader (@min-hoax )
Price of Prejudice : YandereLord!jin x femal reader (@girlmeetsliv3)
Mercy : YandereKing!seokjin x maid female reader (@raggaraddy)
Obsidian Pearl : YandereMerman!seokjin x female reader (@angelicyoongie )
Ringmaster : YandereRingmaster!jin x female reader (@koosbabygrl)
Closed Curtains : YandereDirector!jin x rookie actress female reader (@angellgguk )
Sit, still look pretty; : YandereHusband!jin x wife reader (@aajjks )
𝒌𝒊𝒎 𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒋𝒐𝒐𝒏
Let the Villain Win : YandereWriter!namjoon x female (@lemonjoonah)
Persephone : YandereMafia!namjoon x female reader (@deepdarkdelights )
Baby Fever : YandereIdol!namjoon x female reader (@wildestdreamsblog)
𝒎𝒊𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒊
Latibule : YandereMafia!yoongi x female reader (@wildestdreamsblog)
Angel's Mask : YandereMafia!yoongi x female leader (@min-hoax )
Daisy : YandereTeacher!yoongi x female reader (@cosmostae )
𝒋𝒖𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒆𝒐𝒌
Runaway : YandereVampire!hoseok x female reader (@raggaraddy)
Forbidden Fruit : Yandere!hoseok x fem reader (@deepdarkdelights)
𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝒋𝒊𝒎𝒊𝒏
Little Mouse : YandereBully!jimin x chubby brazilian female reader (@thvlouvre )
Porcelain : YandereDollseller!jimin x female reader (@deepdarkdelights)
The Scent Of The Flower : YandereStepdad!jimin x female reader (@cosmostae)
Defiant Affairs : YandereStepbro x female reader (@yandere-society)
From Afar : YandereTeacher!jimin x female reader (@min-hoax )
𝒌𝒊𝒎 𝒕𝒂𝒆𝒉𝒚𝒖𝒏𝒈
Open : YandereBully!taehyung x stalker-ish female reader (@euphoricfilter )
Strawberries : Yandere!taehyung x female reader (@cosmostae )
Cut : YandereActor!taehyung x female actor reader (@deepdarkdelights)
𝒋𝒆𝒐𝒏 𝒋𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒌𝒐𝒐𝒌
POLARITY : YandereBestfriend'sbf!jungkook x female reader (@darkestcorners )
DARKNETS : YandereHacker!jungkook x female reader (@darkestcorners )
Bloody Love : YandereKing!jungkook x female reader (@hongjoongscafe)
Hangman : Yandere!jungkook x female reader (@aft3rhrs)
The Deepest Marks of Essence : YandereTribeleader!jungkook x female reader (@lleldey)
The Crimson Shell : YandereMermaid!jungkook x female reader (@angelicyoongie )
Obsesión : YandereRugbyplayer!jungkook x hispanic latina reporter female reader (@thvlouvre )
Raven : YandereCultleader!jungkook x female reader (@darkestcorners )
I'm not human at all : Yandere!jungkook x female reader (@silv3rswirls)
Velvet Heart : YandereIdol! jungkook x female reader (@bonny-kookoo )
LESSON I : YandereTeacher!jungkook x bully student fem reader (@redsaurrce )
Companionship : Yandere!jungkook x female reader (@aft3rhrs)
Bunny koo : Yanderebunnyhybrid!jungkook x owner fem reader (@aajjks )
Your eyes tell : YandereTwin!jungkook x female reader (@angellgguk )
Brother Knows Best : YandereStepbro!jungkook x female reader (@cosmostae)
Angel : Yandere!jungkook x female reader (@silv3rswirls)
You Are My Crown : YanderePrince!jungkook x female reader (@redsaurrce)
Silver blades : YanderePrince!jungkook x fem reader (@jooniyah )
Scream, baby : Yanderebf!jungkook x female reader (@aajjks )
Nuisance : YandereStepbro!jungkook x female reader (@min-hoax )
Devil's Child : YandereStepbro!jungkook x female reader (@cosmostae )
Crush : YandereSimp!jungkook x barista fem reader (@aajjks )
Heartstrings : YandereNerd!jungkook x fem reader (@cosmostae )
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aajjks · 9 months
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yandere!BTS: you say you don’t love them.
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disclaimer: this post contains dark heavy content, it is filled with themes that can be triggering for many, so viewers discretion is heavily advised. This is purely fictional and this does not represent bts members irl.
warnings: YANDERE CONTENT, crying, extreme jealousy, profanity, degradation, emotional manipulation, guilt tripping, obsessive behaviour and unhealthy relationship dynamics, mentions of punching someone.
note: BACK IN MY 2020 ERA HAHA. share your thoughts n feedback, after so long I’m finally writing for other members too, it felt really nice!!!! ENJOY!!!
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Jimin:
You won’t even look at him.
“YN, look at me.” He has been begging you to look at him for the last couple of days. He feels like he will go insane if he doesn’t feel your gaze on him any longer.
Jimin knows you are upset. And you have every right to be, he’s always doing something to make you hate him even more. Why can’t he just learn to control his jealousy?
“YN please! I’m sorry!” He scoops in closer to you, he is so distraught, how can he fix this, this time he knows he fucked up bad.
Insulting your friends was a stupid thing to do, he’s learnt that by now, if only he wasn’t so blind with his jealousy.
“Fuck off, Jimin.” You groan at him, your face is tilted towards the other side and his hands grab your shoulders, but you are stubborn. “P-Please I’m sorry I told you I’ve realised my mistake!” How can he get you to forgive him?
“I hate you! You’re fucking immature and stupid!” Your words are like bullets to his chest, but he maintains his composure, he cannot start crying right now because he doesn’t want to prove you right.
“YN- I-I know… I’m sorry I fucked up bad, but p-please don’t say you hate me!” Jimin gasps in surprise as you finally turn towards him, your gaze settles on him.
“Y-YN!!!!! Thank God baby!” He leans in closer to hug you but you immediately stop him. “No. I’ve had enough, I need a break.”
His whole world crashes down in front of his eyes.
“W-What do you mean!?” His eyes are wide and glossy already, he cannot believe this, you are going to leave him? Just because of your shitty friends?
“Yes you heard me, I need space from you- fuck I don’t want to look at you!” You stand up and glare at him. “This is not the first time you’ve crossed a line Jimin!”
He follows you, “YN THIS IS ABSURD! I TOLD YOU THAT IM SORRY! Y-YOU CANT LEAVE ME! Not over s-such a small issue!”
“SMALL ISSUE? Oh God… why am I even trying with you! You’ll never understand!” You try to move past him but he is quick to block you, “n-no you can’t leave me! YOU LOVE ME!” His crescent eyes look back into yours with a dark hue in them.
You laugh, “I-I did love you but I don’t think that I love you anymore.”
“Y-You don’t mean that!” Jimin breaks down at your words, fat tears start rolling down his eyes, it always ends like this.
He always manages to make you feel guilty.
But this time you’ll stand to your ground. You have to leave him.
“YES I DO. And you can’t stop me anymore Jimin.”
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Taehyung:
Taehyung is glaring at you.
“Quit being a brat already.” He rolls his eyes but you don’t respond, it irks him so much, he doesn’t like your silence.
Taehyung doesn’t know how to handle you, or himself if he’s being truthful. Your relationship with him is fragile, he knows, he can see it breaking into pieces that he won’t be able to pick up.
But he can’t let that happen.
“YN.” He calls out your name, “you know that I won’t let you go out so why are you even trying huh?” He grabs your face and caresses your skin gently.
It makes you sick, how can such a monster like him even try to act gentle with you.
“Don’t touch me.” You slap his hand away, he sighs softly, his eyes make you nervous, you know he’s holding back his anger.
“You know, you always manage to test my fuckin patience.” He laughs, you look at him with no emotion, he doesn’t mean anything to you, you don’t care about him, you don’t love him.
You’ve never loved him, you’ve always feared him.
“You’re so lucky that I love you YN, but you always have to act like an ungrateful bitch, don’t you?” His words are harsh just like his soul.
How can anyone ever love him.
“Taehyung I don’t love you.” You stare back at him with equal anger, “what? Don’t act like you didn’t know.” It’s your turn to roll your eyes at him, he’s biting the inside of his cheek.
The satisfaction of hurting his feelings washes over you, the man doesn’t move an inch though, his eyes are empty.
“Well you better start loving me or I’ll fucking kill you.”
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Jungkook:
It’s eating him up, you’re fuming with anger.
He doesn’t know what to do, it’s too late anyways.
He already fucked up.
“FUCK YOU!” You spit at him, he can’t even look at you, his heart is thumping loud. Your voice is so loud that he cringes at the vibration. “YOU ARE FUCKING IMPOSSIBLE TO BE WITH!”
He doesn’t feel guilty about it though, he just feels guilty about the fact that it happened in front of you. “SPEAK NOW! You don’t shut the fuck up when you should and now you’re fucking quite!” You cross your arms to your chest and stand in front of him.
“YN I’m sorry to disappoint you but I don’t regret it one bit.” He looks up at you and confesses, you study him and yes it’s true.
There’s no regret in his eyes.
“Of course.” Your voice is breaking. He can never change, and it hurts to realise that. “HE FLIRTED WITH YOU RIGHT INFRONT OF ME!”
He’s screaming at you, it’s scary how he doesn’t realise his actions.
“You fucking punched him. That’s it I’m DONE.”
You are crying at this point, “I th-thought that you could change, Jungkook but you can’t. And I can’t take this anymore, your behaviour is starting to make me hate you.” You start to move back from him as he moves closer to you.
“Y-YN you love me and I love you! That’s enough for us, a-and I only protected our love!” You are too slow to get away from him and he grabs your body,
“What love? This is not love at all, I should’ve realised that way before but I chose to ignore my instincts! I don’t think I love you anymore.”
“You are impossible to love, Jungkook.”
“W-What?” Jungkook looks broken, his hands leave your body finally, he falls down to the floor of your bedroom, his tears don’t escape his eyes.
He feels numb.
Just like how you’ve been feeling this entire relationship, you both are toxic for each other, you bring out the worst in him.
He needs to let you go.
“I-I love you- YOU LOVE ME. I won’t l-let you go! I WONT! No matter what you say!”
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608 notes · View notes
cybsoo2 · 10 days
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a bleeding bruise
╰┈➤ synopsis — Two failures have unfolded tonight. A failed escape attempt on your part, and a punishment that leaves more lasting damage then the boys had expected. 
╰┈➤ pairing — yandere!vminkook x reader
╰┈➤ word count — 4.2k
╰┈➤ content warning — yandere behavior, violence, assault, verbal abuse, injury, strong language, angst, jk’s a bit of a jerk :(
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“NO! NO! PLEASE STOP! I’M SORRY, I’M SORRY!” Shrill screams suffocate the silence. Your useless pleas are ignored as three men carry you back to where you belong. “I WON’T DO IT AGAIN, PLE-”
“BE QUIET!” Jungkook muffles your crying with the palm of his hand. He masks his words with anger to hide his anguish. Your tears create a hole in his heart.
Three sets of hands grasp you tightly. Their rough grip leaves raw imprints onto your wrists and waist. You try to squirm under their hold, and it works for a second when you free your legs to try and kick at them. In the end the struggling creates more problems when Taehyung tears you apart from the others and throws you over his shoulder.
You pound your fists against his back and continue begging to be let go. Pathetic pleas of ‘Please let me go,’ ‘I’ll be good now,’ or ‘I’m sorry, I love you,’ fall down to the forest floor. Your punches grow more panicked and as you fight through your fury, Jimin grabs your wrists to stop you.
“Stop hurting him.” He pleads with you in a gentle tone. He’s two seconds away from bursting into tears, but he chokes his cries back by begging. “I love you, I love you, why can’t you make this easy.” His hushes are spoken as they continue to walk. 
Small crystals begin to fall from the sky. Your own crying is muted by Taehyung’s sweater. Your sadness leaves stains that he’ll have to worry about later.
While Jungkook leads the way back to the house, Jimin mutters pretty prayers that you won’t hate them after this punishment. He strokes your hanging head and says, “This is for the better, you’ll understand once it’s over.”
Jungkook successfully navigates your way through the forest and the backyard of your home peeks out of the treeline. Once you step out under the protection of the bristles and branches, the rain begins to leave you drenched. It’s an uncomfortably cold wetness that makes you shift atop Taehyung’s shoulder. Jimin and Taehyung lead you to the middle of the backyard and you’re lifted off Tae’s shoulder to stand on two feet.
You shiver against Taehyung’s chest. He holds you tightly to him with his gentle hands holding your hips. His touch doesn’t hurt, but it’s strong enough to let you know you won’t be able to get away again. He stares straight ahead to where Jungkook walks away back into the house. An anxious feeling buries its way into your bones once you pick up on his nervous ticks. He shifts his weight and tugs you tighter against him. His jaw is clenched, keeping secrets stored about what sort of punishment you’ll be subject to. Despite being so close, he keeps his distance. Usually so affectionate, now he doesn’t make a move to melt into you. He keeps his head up against the rain and doesn’t spare you a single look.
Jimin can barely contain the nervous jitters that jostle him. His uneasy eyes switch between you and Jungkook’s figure now emerging from the house. He carries cold chains that hang over his shoulders and wrap around his wrists. They’re so long that the excess drags down behind him. 
The sight of the chains instills an instant panic. You tremble against Taehyung’s touch and forget how to breathe when Jungkook’s footsteps get closer. Shocked by a sudden rush of adrenaline, you strike Taehyung in the gut and turn to run. You only make it a few steps before you’re forced to the ground. Jimin slams into you and you fall face-first into the cement. He catches your arms as they thrash about and holds them in a vice-grip. Taking your wrists with one hand, he reaches down to your waist and flips you over. 
The next thing you see is Taehyung in front of your face. He straddles over you with his knees restraining your legs. His hands slide up to your shoulders, staring at you with dead eyes. 
You’re forced away from Taehyung’s gaze when Jungkook tugs at your hair, turning your eyes up to focus on him. 
“If you want to act like an ungrateful bitch, then we’ll treat you like one.” The venom he spits strikes your heart. It stings to be subject to his twisted tongue. Cruel words collide with their punches. The cold chain wrapped around your leg is the only thing keeping you connected with the world. You’re so sure that if you didn’t have this steel tether, you’d be beaten down to hell by the heat of their attacks. 
You’re struck with kicks and punches from one while another assaults you with rotten words. Someone else is settled at your side, holding down your body despite your stillness. 
You blocked out most of their beating. Seeing those loveless eyes sent you into isolation. The bleeding and bruising so overwhelming that you ended up running away from your mind. Yet, you remember the rain. It cried alongside you, relentless and cruel. Your focus found the sky and stayed there until they were done. 
A semi-silence wraps itself around the four of you. Only small pants for breathe and soft sobbing are audible. The rain blends into the background as you focus on the three men that now stand above you. It’s so dark out you can hardly see their faces. Black borders surround your shaking body and stare. You now realize that this midnight madness has come to an end. 
You now sit as a sobbing mess under the crying sky. The rain ricochets off your beaten body. Rain and tears fall forever; all sorrow is soaked back into the earth. The cold air kisses all the skin you have to spare. The metal chain wrapped around your leg clanks together due to your violent shaking. 
No matter how much the cold bites at your back, your heart feels more frostbitten. You can barely even feel the phantom kicks and punches anymore. Your mind only replays the memories of them turning their backs as you beg.
Did you really go too far? Did you fuck up so badly that life will be even more tortuous than before? Even if you hated them for stealing your freedom and feelings away, at least they loved you. They showed you kindness and empathy. Such curious killers that haven’t shown you any animosity since they stole you away. 
Each raindrop that falls rips into your heart even further. This punishment is proof of your wrongdoing. You don’t even care about the beating at this point, you only yearn to be loved. To be caressed and cradled with care. Do they still love you? Can you prove to them that you can be better than this, that you will be better. Even a hopeless situation can feel the opposite when love turns your attention the other way.
You hadn’t even felt scared when they began to cut and kick you. You deserved it didn’t you? How selfish of you to keep denying these soulmates your love. They’ve given everything they have to make you happy and you went and threw it in the trash. 
You don’t want to suffer any more. Maybe making the best out of this broken life will bring better days.
As you lay lifeless on the pavement, scarlet sorrows spill out of you. It covers the concrete and coats every inch of your existence. As you fall under sleeps spell, you dream of three men. You imagine a man with black hair holding you close. The second fights off the rain with an air of annoyance. And the final illusion soothes away your sadness.
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Taehyung finds himself trying to fight off the darkness that suffocates him. The house is too silent and still. It makes him anxious. He wants to peek out the window to check the damage they’ve done, but Jimin grabs his shoulder and guides him upstairs. A dark despair stains the cream carpet as he slowly makes his way upstairs. Jimin and Jungkook drag themselves ahead of him. A heavy weight holds them down. Their shoulders slump and their smiles sag. 
So slowly, they remove their shoes as they continue their steps and throw them every which way. Soaked shirts and wet pants are quickly taken off.
“We’ll just leave her like that for a little bit.” Jungkook mumbles with an exhausted expression. “Once we warm up and clean off we can go back and get her.”
“Isn’t that too long?” Jimin holds hesitance between two lips. His eyebrows frown and he purses his lips in pain. Everything about Jimin shows he’s doubting his decisions. He already began to regret his actions once the rain relapsed. 
“She has to realize there’s consequences for her dumb decisions.” Jungkook stares into Jimin and his tired teary eyes give away everything. “I love her too and I don’t like hurting her. But we can’t let her think she can try running away whenever she wants.”
“But what if she just ends up hating us even more.” Jimins words tremble with terror. Shining streaks start to fall off his face as he fails to hold back his tears.
Taehyung turns Jimin towards him and rubs his shoulder as an attempt to soothe him. “She just has to learn her lesson. Then we’ll rush right back out and fix everything. We’ll clean her cuts and warm her up,” Taehyung tilts his head to look Jimin in the eyes. “It’ll be okay.” 
No one says anything about the lie that leaves Taehyung’s lips. Hopeless words slide down a throat better when they’re coated in honey. Three men tell each other little lies to keep themselves from collapsing. However, they can only float in a fool’s paradise for so long before they come crashing down. 
As the three men take turns in the shower, a sick sense of guilt begins to smother them. A cold chill creeps into their bones that not even a sweltering shower can wash away. 
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An hour has passed by before they decide your punishment has reached its end. The clock strikes 2 and three sets of feet stumble over each other. Everyone trying to be the first to erase their terrible torment. The boys scramble down the stairs, only tripping two times in the restless race. 
They pick you up off the pavement and you welcome their warmth in the rain. 
You cling to Jimin like an extra layer of clothes; he holds you in his arms with a warm welcome. He tugs you closer to his chest, small squeezes and sniffles fill in the silence. In an awkward position, Jimin shuffles the both of you into the house and upstairs with Taehyung leading the way. Jungkook trails closely behind, shushing your cries and smoothing down your hair. 
They don’t speak about the pain and punishment other than the consistent mumbles of ‘I’m sorry.’ 
Your silence scares them. Somehow, it feels easier to be faced with your hatred and indifference than nothing at all. Although, they still hang on to a small sliver of hope that they haven’t lost you yet. They can see the subtle way you grasp onto Jimin’s jacket; holding on with white knuckles as if it’s a lifeline. There’s a shimmer of sadness in your eyes, bordering on bittersweet emotions. They can tell you’re hanging onto the same fated string as them. The four of you have nothing but hope. 
These three men don’t know how to be gentle. They’re love is rough and full of risks. And you don’t know how to be docile. You’d weren’t made to shrink down smaller just so they can control you. But when you reach the bathroom and they tell you to sit, you obey so easily. This change is for the better. The first step to an easier life. Four fated fools that all long for love. Stripping away the pieces of singularity to forcibly fit the puzzle. 
You’re sitting on the edge of the bathroom counter. Taehyung sat at your side to keep you company. Jungkook and Jimin have wandered off to wherever they went. Most likely getting stacks of medical supplies. Taehyung takes your hand and rests his head on your shoulder. You lean back against the mirror, screwing your eyes closed when another sharp sting of pain presses into your side. Taehyung gives a squeeze to the hand he’s holding, silently begging the boys to hurry up. As if they heard his prayers, Jungkook and Jimin reach the bathroom in record time. Jimin takes a seat on the toilet while Jungkook rummages through the first aid kit. 
The small boy at your side lays his head down on your leg. His tears sink into your soaked blue jeans. Anxieties taste like acid on his tongue. And when he leaves lingering kisses to the cuts that litter your legs, that tainted taste is now blurred with blood. He wears your crimson carnage like lipstick. The blood smeared all across his face. Attempting to drown out your pain with passion. His kisses then crawl upwards. Coming close to the cuts on your stomach that Jungkook is stitching up. Every time you wince from the needle stabbing into your skin, Tae and Jimin take turns trying to distract you. 
While Jungkook cleans up your cuts, he asks the others to tend to your bruises. Taehyung takes the ointment from Jungkook’s open hands. He takes a generous amount and mixes it around, efficiently warming it up. Heartbroken bruises burn against his tender touch. The tiniest of touches burns through your bones. A small gasp that stumbles out of your lips causes him to still. He stares at you with wide eyes, waiting for you to tell him to continue. 
Through clenched teeth you mumble a weak, “Keep going.” He hesitates but abides by your words. He traces your bruises with the tips of his fingers, leaving behind hearts that beg for forgiveness. He stares at your scarlet stained features while he trails shapes up your hips and along your arms. A look of pain is plastered on your face. He shares your sadness, taking each tear that escapes your eyes as another stab of torment. 
Jungkook stands between your legs. He works with a deep set determination. Diligent and dangerous with how he handles the needle. He’s quick with every stitch, cursing under his breath every time you pull back in pain. And every so often, when a scarce cry escapes you, he lets his hand slip. Stabbing his skin ever so slightly to feel even an inkling of the pain he’s caused you. Putting pressure on the cut and combining your blood with his. 
Jungkook tries to keep you as steady as possible while he puts together the pieces of their destruction. He lets you lean into Taehyung’s chest and be tainted with touches by Jimin. He doesn’t have time to envy their affections. So, he keeps on stitching, doing the dirty work when the others can’t bear the burden. 
Taehyung and Jimin wrap you in white bandages. You lay limply against Jungkook. Breathing shallow breaths and whispering into his ear, “Do you still love me?”
Jungkook could cry right there. Break down in the bathroom under the weight of his wrongdoing. He can’t hide his emotions when it comes to you. He struggles to stay strong. Hot tears trail down his face and he squeezes his eyes shut, hoping the teardrops will come to a stop. 
“How could you ever think that?” His voice shakes under ultimate sadness. “I love you more than you can imagine. So much so that it makes me sick, and I can’t stand the thought of you ever leaving me. Leaving us.” He raises his hand to run through your hair. Gently pushing your face down to sit on his shoulder. Away from his face and naive to the sobs he tries to stifle. 
When they finish fixing you up, you’re held together by silver string and rotten, red kisses. Taehyung pulls you off the counter and cradles you close to his heart. He carries you to the bedroom and doesn’t let go even when you’ve already reached the bed. He sits you on his lap and watches as the other two rush around him. In a frantic frenzy, they rush to turn off the lights (leaving on the bedside lamp), bundle you in blankets, and grab a dry change of clothes. 
When Jungkook can’t seem to find your clothes fast enough, Taehyung takes matters into his own hands. Sliding off his shirt and slipping it over your shoulders. He then works to slide off your drenched jeans. He leaves your legs bare but covers you in a burden of blankets. Tucking in the corners and tying you up tight. 
Jimin enters the room with water and what seems to be small pills. He kneels down in front of you, his hand resting on your knee and holding out a remedy.
“Take these,” he drops the pills into your empty palm, “and drink some water to wash them down.” You pop the pills into your mouth one by one, washing them down with the water. 
Once everything starts to settle, silence shushes the room and darkness bleeds in through the blinds. You all begin to feel the remnants of your adrenaline-rush. An uneasy exhaustion sticks to your skin. You crawl under the covers and seek solace in their embrace. 
Taehyung drags his fingertips over the skin of your spine. A gentle touch that attempts to settle your shivers and sooth your sadness. The movements are slow, and he distracts himself by counting each indent his fingers reach. He’s cautious to avoid the cuts and bruises, still fresh and fragile. He repeats this motion for many minutes as a way to take both your minds off everything. 
Taehyung doesn’t like to think back on the events that unfolded only hours ago. Your betrayal and beating are tucked away behind blinds in the darkest parts of him. Taehyung tucks away his turmoil and sinks into the sheets. He shimmies down deeper into the mass of blankets and bodies. He hopes tomorrow won’t turn out as terrible as today; wishing on a star that you’ll begin to settle into your new life with new lovers. If you never love them like they want, then you’ll just have to learn how. Playing pretend in a dollhouse made for demons. 
The silence is split by Jungkook’s concern, “Baby? Are you sure you’re okay?” After the damage they’re done he feels the need to double check everything. 
Your mouth is sealed shut. The words you want to speak stick to your insides. You settle for a small nod against Taehyung’s shoulder. The youngest man outstretches his hand to stroke your hair. With such softness, he presses your head into the pillow. He then makes himself more comfortable, sliding into the sheets and slotting himself in between Taehyung’s touch, and the wall. He does so without lifting the hand that holds your head. 
“You’re tired aren’t you? Just try to fall asleep. We’ll be watching over you, don’t worry.” You give a grunt in response. Taehyung’s silent strokes are sending you to sleep, and Jungkook’s fingers running through your hair finally set your heart at ease. Your tiredness takes over and dizzy dreams dance in the distance. 
Before you fall asleep, Taehyung tells you one last thing, “I’m sorry we hurt you… I’m sorry we’re so selfish… But we can’t let you go.”
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You wake during a wilted sunrise. Pink clouds are beaten bloody leaving bloodstains to soak the sky. The red tint of the light lingers above you. The blinds allow just the slightest sliver of sunshine into the room.
Your tired eyes struggle to see in the dark. Fighting off the fatigue only takes a minute or two before clarity can calm you. You drag your head up higher on Taehyung's chest, trying to catch a glimpse of his face. He sleeps soundly under the scarlet sunrise. Short puffs of air tickle your nose whenever he takes a breath.
You look over to your left and see that Jungkook is also a slave to slumber. His youthful features appear worn and weary even in his sleep.
Even if you can’t check behind you to see, you can only assume that Jimin hasn’t woken up from your movement. As his body had sunken into soft slumber, his weight seemed to have doubled. Heavy limbs are draped over you with a possessive person that lags behind. This burden begins to grow painful as your fresh bruises blossom in irritation. You shift closer to Tae, trying to escape the pressure that piles on top of you. When you move only a millimeter to the left, you’re stuck with a sudden pain that leaves you paralyzed. Shot with an icy wave of shock, you struggle to suck in a single breath. A crippling pain swarms in your stomach. It stirs up a sickness that threatens to spill out of you. You slap a hand to your mouth, forcing the feeling back down. 
Once the nausea wanes away, the ache in your abdomen appears to triple. You attempt to stifle a sob, but you should have known that any slight discomfort from you is bound to be discovered. Jungkook begins to stir from the subtle noise. 
He can feel you trembling under his touch. Your name falls from his lips in pure panic. His eyes search your body for any signs of harm. His hands ghost over the bruises that are turning blue. A frown forms when looking at the white bandages that cover the cuts he caused. When he can’t find anything out of the ordinary, he switches his sight to stare right into your eyes. “Is it hurting again? Is it the bruises or the cuts?” Concern chokes him. Sin and shame sting like a venom in his veins. 
You’re still struggling to take control of your tears. Hiding them with your hands and biting back your cries. Jungkook grows more anxious with each second that wastes away. “What do you need? Anything, anything at all. How can I help?” He reaches out to remove your hands in front of your face. 
A fit of coughing chokes you. Jungkook acts fast, sitting up to steady you. His hands almost hover, afraid to cause you anymore harm. But when a second round of coughing and crying starts up, he takes you in his arms. The rapid movements rouse Taehyung from his slumber. His words are slurred with sleep when he asks “Are you okay?” and “What’s happening?” Neither you nor Jungkook answer him. 
Your agony is over spilt and you start coughing all over again. A silver taste mixes with your saliva. “Jungkook,” A tremor takes over your tone. “Jungkook, it hurts.” 
“I know, baby. I know. But where does it hurt?” He runs his rough hands along your back. Settling the shivers that trail up your spine. He shushes your cries and tilts your head up to him. He stares into the saddest sight he’s ever seen. Red-rimmed eyes, pathetic whimpers of pain, and a bottom lip so bitten it’s bleeding. He feels an ache in his chest at your pitiful appearance. He uses his thumb to pull your lip from in between your teeth. 
It’s at this time when Taehyung starts to shake off the effects of a deep sleep. He sits up and leans against your back. One arm is used to steady himself while the other wraps around your waist. His fingers are tied up with the bottom of your (his) shirt. He fidgets with the fabric, trying to focus his mind on anything other than the sounds of your sobbing. He tucks his head over your shoulder and squeezes you a little tighter. 
“It’s my stomach that hurts. I think I might throw up.” At your words, Taehyung loosens up his grip. Instead, he sticks his hand under your shirt to soothe your stomach. He draws circles with his thumb and follows Jungkook’s lead. 
“Come on, let’s get you to the bathroom then.” Jungkook pulls you up, letting you lean on him as he prepares to take you to the bathroom. Taehyung trails behind, struggling with the sheets tied around his legs.
“Jimin,” Tae shakes the man rather roughly. “Wake up. Sweethearts not feeling well.” He doesn’t wait for his friend to wake, too restless at the thought of you injured and too far for comfort. He rushes out of the room and stumbles upon a sight he wishes he didn’t have to see. 
Blood burns through your throat and the next thing you know scarlet is being spilt onto the tile. You share a shaky look with both boys, tears lining all your eyes. Red runs down your lips and stains your shirt. As you stare at Taehyung, scared out of your skin, he can’t help but think that his selfish, lovesick soul will be the cause of your demise.
© cybsoo2 2024, all rights reserved
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alessiamalfoyzabini · 2 months
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Dark Moon | Chapter List
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⤷ Subtitle | Devoured by you
⤷ Pairing | Yandere Jimin x Reader
⤷ Genre | Yandere!AU, Dark Romance!AU, Gangster!AU, Smut (dubcon, noncon), Angst, Kidnapping, Violence, Obsession
➢ Ratings | +18 / M (Mature)
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⤷ Summary | She just wanted to escape her past, take charge of her life and break out of her steel cage, praying in God for a miracle that could change her life for good.
And her prayers were heard, but it was not the Divine that answered her.
That was certainly the devil in the guise of an angel, she thought as those corrupted and empty eyes searched her soul with extreme voracity.
He turned a sweet, false smile on her, before pushing her into the abyss.
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➢ Author's Note | This work originated in Italian, so I apologize for any errors you will find, I am not a native english speaker 🥺❤
Also it is the spin-off of Happy Ending, the story can be read even without knowing HE, but if you are interested in reading it you can find it here ❤
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➢ For Italian tumblr readers, if you are interested in reading this story, please know that it is already on Wattpad in Italian: DARK MOON ITALIAN VERSION
Taglist is open!
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||CHAPTER LIST||
Chapter One | 12.02.24
Chapter Two | 16.02.24
Chapter Three | 20.02.24
Chapter Four | 27.02.24
Chapter Five | 04.03.24
Chapter Six | 10.03.24
Chapter Seven | 14.03.24
Chapter Eight | 18.03.24
Chapter Nine | 22.03.24
Chapter Ten | 26.03.24 NEW!
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen - The End
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© | I do not allow republication or editing of this story by third parties, all rights belong to me, anyone guilty of the crime of plagiarism will be reported and blocked. The same goes for the smartasses who will take pieces of my story without my explicit consent.
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luv-gukkie · 10 months
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cherry | 𖦊 : three
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pairing: yandere! jimin x f. reader, yandere! jungkook x f. reader
genre: fluff || smut || non-idol au || yandere
summary: you’re the cherry on top of everything. the little girl in front of your parents; the gooody two-shoes of your family, friends, and everyone who knows you. so when you’re staring at the two bright, red lines on the pregnancy test. you know you’re fucked, you really do. especially when there’s not only one man, but seven.
word count: +1.4k
tags/warnings: unprotected sex (this is fiction, don't be silly), creampie, squirting, manipulation sex, mention of namjoon, mention of taehyung, public sex? (in a amusement park), soft sex, rough sex, size difference, jimin cares for reader (a lot :]), strawberries with whip cream is kinda sexualized…(sorry fresas), jungkook’s possessive> and wants to do EVERYTHING for the reader
notes: i don’t know why, but this jungkook, has me feeling some type of way. im imagining his black t-shirt that display his tattoos and pretty, long hair. i CANT get it out of my head :,). i love jimin’s part with the churros. he’s too cute. who else likes churros?
tag list: @bananamochidaisy @mageprincess7
༻❤︎︎ ★ ★ ❤︎︎༺
"i'm going out with my friends to go to a carnival," your pointer finger traced his arm filled with beautiful tattoos. ignoring his intense stare. "i heard there's gonna be fireworks!" you squeal, hoping that you've gotten out of jungkook's grasp. but he doesn't let go, "if you wanted to see fireworks so bad, pretty baby, you should've just told me. i'd buy them for you to see, wanna do that?" your hand drops onto the white shirt you borrowed from namjoon last night. you can still smell the thick cologne, some of it rubbing against you. too bad he left so early in the morning with a small wink in your direction. "but i really want to go with my friends." your eyes have the temptation to roll, but you'd be in bigger trouble if you did.
his clinginess reminds you of taehyung, who, with no doubt, has filled your phone with messages so early in the morning. "we can buy you something nice beforehand?" jungkook hopes you like that enough to stay with him. his thumb starts to rub your cheek, noticing you eyeing the velvet fruits. "and buy some strawberries with whatever toppings you want. how does that sound?" you can feel yourself boiling in the inside at the fact he doesn't give up. you beg yourself not to yell because you know he won't take you seriously, or he'll make you regret it. "tomorrow?" you ask, your legs spreading apart just a bit for him to direct his sight to your panties. shirt sliding up your thighs. "pretty please, kookie." jungkook has a light blush on his cheeks, the sweatpants he's wearing not doing anything to hide his growing hard-on. his eyes look up at you, asking permission, in which you nod. both your eyes hooded with lust. his fingers pinch one of the strawberries, messing the whip cream around your mouth before thrusting it to the back of your throat. his fingers reaching far deep into your mouth causing saliva to drip down the sides of your lips. jungkook's doe eyes shining at the wet spot as he releases himself from his slacks. moving your panties to the side, he moves his dick across the slit of your damp cunt. jungkook pushed his cock through your tight hole, groaning at how your walls rejected his entrance. your legs quivered as the feeling, head digging into his neck. tears at the edge of your eyes from the painful intrusion; he's always been too big to handle. his tattooed hands bringing your face closer to his by pulling your hair. he breathed on your lips as he muttered, "we'll go tomorrow." before pecking your lips and pulling out only to slam back in with full force.
~
"ugh." you stared at yourself in the mirror, watching the limp you had when you walked. maybe you shouldn't had convinced jungkook using that way. but at least it worked. luckily, your friends were still going to the carnival so you invited jimin, a 'friend'. you'd meet up with everyone there, including jimin. he had wanted to take you in his car, have a small dinner before going but you told him it would be more fun to see each other at the carnival. he didn't like the idea, but accepted when you told him you would give him a special surprise.
when you arrived at the carnival, jimin was standing by himself. hand in his phone, and two corn dogs in the other. you hugged him by behind, smile on your face as jimin giggled. "you look so pretty!" jimin pecked you all over your face, hands smothering in your hair. he grinned in the inside at the necklace you were wearing: a small gold dove that he gave you. "my friends will be here soon, let's finish these corn dogs jiminie." hands together, a corn dog in the other with huge smiles on your faces as you planned what rides you'll both go on.
you all went on every ride in the carnival. olivia was basically green from the roller coasters she went on. nolan had his eyes shut close every time you guys were at the top or edge. all jimin did was tighten his hold on your hand, pearls out for show. his eyes looking at you from the side, enjoying the view he got. your hair flying all over the place, happy yells escaping your mouth. jimin couldn't believe he got a chance to be with you. but he saw the way nolan eyed you too. his cheeks flushed when you spared him the tiniest bit of affection towards him. it had jimin rolling his eyes in annoyance, the urge to color his face a shade of purple and blues.
the crowd was larger than when you guys arrived, people pushing and shoving. you yelped when you accidentally tripped on someone's foot. jimin was quick to save you from the embarrassment of falling in a public place and having bloody knees. "be careful sweet cheeks." he playfully said, not letting go though. still worried you might fall and get hurt. "thank you," your hands covering your face, hoping to cool down your burning face. when you looked around, none of your friends were in sight. a pout on your lips, "we lost them, didn't we?" jimin nodded his head, an idea popping in his head. taking you by the arm, he dragged you to a churro stand on the other side of the walkway. it was practically empty, a few people here and there.
your eyes distracted by all the options of churros, you failed to notice how jimin stared you down. a heat surging through his body at the skirt you wore. it wrapped around your body too perfectly, giving the perfect amount of skin to have him want more. soon enough, both of you were munching on strawberry filled churros and chocolate covered churros. you sneaked into a higher ground with jimin trailing behind you, "i never knew you did things like this," he muttered with a smirk on his face. "it's too get a good look at the fireworks, you know they start soon?" he laughed at your sassy tone, pulling you into his lap and kissing the sugar away from your pink lips. jimin stuck his tongue down your throat, fingers softly pulling your hair to your back. soothing his hands down your back until they reached your ass, where he snuck them into. you whined in the kiss, his mouth sucking your bottom lip. jimin slipped you out of your panties, leaving open kisses down your neck and collarbone. you tugged his pants and boxers off, his tip glistening with his pre-cum. jimin grabs you hips gently, slowly sliding you onto him and waiting for a while before starting a fast pace. he dug his face onto your covered breasts, soft groans escaping his lips each time he felt your wet walls clenching around him.
your walls began to spasm around him, reaching closer to your high. you whined into his ear, head hiding in his neck as he pushed upwards into you. a breathy moan emerging from his throat at his release, cumming inside you. a grin on his face when he eyes the sticky mess falling on your inner thighs and down his cock. jimin hugs you tightly as he makes you lay down next to me, dick still inside of you. "i love y—" jimin's voice gets interrupted by the loud, colorful explosions in the night sky. you giggle, "jiminie, look at the fireworks!"
but he can't look at the fireworks, not when he sees a purple bruise on your lower collarbone, purposely hidden by your clothes. one he didn't leave.
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linos-luna · 6 months
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Bts Yandere Profiles 🔪
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Yandere!Bts x Reader
Warnings: Yandere!, obsessive behavior, possessiveness, gaslighting, manipulation
—————————— 🔪 —————————
Namjoon
Manipulative and possessive
He tricked you into this. In fact, he gaslights you all the time! You live at his house now because he convinced you to do so. He didn’t kidnap you. You’re here on your own volition… right?
• He says your family is abusive and not to see them. So you believe him
• brings up your confidence but then suddenly takes it away
• you don’t need a job because he’ll take care of you!
• He wants you to be dependent on him.
• hates when other people look at you.
“Babygirl, your parents are so mean to you. Why do you put up with that?”
“I’ll take care of you, don’t worry about stressing at some job!”
“Who was that talking to you?? Don’t lie!”
“Your friends talk behind your back. I’ve seen it!”
“I’m the only one that loves you!”
Jin
Unhinged but loving
Jin is a loving yandere but can’t help being unhinged. He’ll have random outbursts and threaten suicide if you try and leave. Of course… he’d never actually do it…
• he’s calm when he’s suddenly not
• all of the sudden he yells at you then takes it back, then takes the apology back and yells again.
• doesn’t hurt you physically but always puts you on edge.
• doesn’t hide his stalking tendencies.
• in fact, he’ll come straight out of hiding and make himself known. It’s embarrassing for you. But he doesn’t care.
“Ok wait! I didn’t mean it!”
“Don’t leave me! Or I’ll kill myself!”
“Forgive me!”
“Jagiya!! Where are you?!”
Yoongi
Strict but sometimes sweet
Yoongi hates that you make him weak in the knees. He’s not sure why he has such a soft spot for you, but he does. He feels the need to shield you from everything.
• comes off as cold
• keeps you inside all day. Sometimes takes you out at night
• very strict. Don’t talk back to him!
• kinda scary when mad
• but he’s also really sweet. Brings you gifts all the time.
• not much of a cuddly guy but will sometimes allow it. He knows girls like that kinda stuff…
• you want to love him and he can’t seem to resist you…
“What’d you just say to me?!”
“Better watch your mouth, kitten!”
“Do you like roses? I brought you some.”
“Come here, baby. Next to me.”
Hoseok
Bipolar emotions
One moment he’s happy and loving then suddenly cold. Being with him was like walking on eggshells. Half the time you didn’t even know what set him off. But then he smothers you with love. It made you feel bad
• he wants you to have fun and do what you want but also.. doesn’t?
• paranoid that you’re cheating
• constantly accuses you then immediately apologizes
• he’s a little suffocating
• constantly clinging to you
• will threaten you at random then act like nothing happened
“Cheater!!”
“No sorry! I don’t think that!”
“No it’s okay, go have fun…”
“I bought a cake! For what? Our 3 month anniversary!”
Jimin
Psychotic
Jimin is a psychotic yandere. He loves you deeply and will do anything to have you and “keep you safe”… Anything
• very outwardly expresses his love for you
• threatens people around you
• has probably killed someone… who knows 🤷‍♀️
• has a hard time controlling his emotions, whether mad or happy.
• sometimes he laughs when mad, that’s when you know you messed up
• don’t make him angry. He WILL get violent
• he’s stronger than he looks…
“jagiya, stop hiding from me! Don’t make me mad!”
“Don’t be scared, baby. I’m sorry.” *pouts*
Taehyung
Hopeless romantic but also delusional
Taehyung wants the relationship to be something out of a kdrama or romance novel. Everything must be perfect! He loves you even it he’s yelling at you for not doing something right.
• relationship means hugs and kisses. So he gives and expects them daily
• when out, you must ALWAYS hold his hand.
• when out, Taehyung will make sure to dress you so that the both of you match
• call him cute names like: Tae, Baby, Love
• don’t call him Taehyung
• He’ll call you Baby, darling, love, sweetheart, etc
• if you don’t do these things he’ll be not mad but frustrated.
• he will throw a fit..
“That’s not how it’s supposed to be!”
“Sweetheart, look at the new outfits I got for us!”
“No no no!! It’s all wrong!!”
“Why aren’t you holding my hand?? Are you mad?!”
Jungkook
Loving but… obsessive
When you started dating him, everything was great. He spoils you. He texts you every day and is always there when you need him but… he’s also a little weird.
• love bombs you.
• texts you everyday all day. And if you don’t respond right away he freaks out
• stalks you although you didn’t notice at first
• constantly thinks someone is gonna hurt you.
• he’s a strong guy, he might hurt you. But not intentionally!
“I’m sorry! Sorry! I didn’t mean it!”
*on the phone• “Baby, where are you?? You haven’t answered my texts!”
“Baby I brought you some gifts!” 😁
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angelicyoongie · 2 months
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lovesick (XIV)
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— pairing: yandere ot7 x (f) reader — word count: 5.8k — warnings: yandere, obsessive behaviour, other content that may be triggering. — summary: You dreamed of the day you would get your very own soulmark. Though, you didn’t expect to wake up to a searing hurt in your arm, the phantom pain of your shoulder being dislocated and your forearm fractured. As if dealing with the worst possible soulmark ever wasn’t bad enough, you also have to come to terms with the fact that you’re being stalked. When the letters and gifts you receive begin to escalate and the police offers no help, you have no other option than to figure out who’s behind it yourself – and hopefully before it’s too late.
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Previous - Next
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"Darling."
You glance up at Namjoon, abandoning the half-finished scarf you've been slowly unraveling for the last hour. He stands at the foot of the couch, glasses slipping down his nose as he struggles to hold on to all of the books piled up in his arms.
You jump out of your seat to help him, grabbing half of the stack to place it on the table next to you with a small huff.
The books are thick and heavy, and you doubt that any of the volumes are under five hundred pages. Most of the spines in Namjoon's arms look old and weathered, like their proper place should be under a glass case in a museum instead of a library.
Namjoon breathes out a sigh of relief as he carefully deposits the rest of the books next to the others. He nudges his glasses back in place with a small chuckle as he says, "I must be getting out of shape, I don't remember them being this heavy."
"I doubt it," You mutter, sneaking a quick look at how visible Namjoon's muscles are even under his thick sweater. 
"What did you say, darling? I didn't catch it," Namjoon gives you a curious look. 
"Ah, it's nothing!" You flash him a quick smile, swiftly shifting your focus back to the table. 
Namjoon furrows his brows at the way you suddenly avert your eyes, the tops of your cheeks growing warm. He glances down at his sweater, worried that he might have missed a stain. There's nothing that looks out of the ordinary, but Namjoon still dusts off the bright red wool for good measure, a little perplexed by the strange look you were giving him. 
"I brought the books you asked for, this is everything we had on soulmates and soulbonds," Namjoon clears his throat. He steps closer to the table, picking up a few of the books before he starts sorting them into smaller piles, "These are the most recent publications and the ones furthest to the right are the oldest ones. I found a couple down in the archives too. They're not supposed to leave the library since they're so old but, well, I'm sure no one would mind a little exception. I know you'll take good care of them." 
"I'll be careful," You nod, brushing a finger over the spine of what looks to be the oldest book. 
"Good," Namjoon flashes you a warm grin, his dimples on show. He reaches out to stroke your hair, tucking a lock behind your ears as he gently says, "I hope they can be a nice distraction for you. I know you've been feeling down since you talked to Heejun."
"Thank you," You give him a tight smile, refusing to comment on it. You know it annoys them that you're not willing to open up more, that you don't want to talk about your emotions, but what's the use in bringing up something they won't understand? They are the ones making you sad, not Heejun. 
It's been a week since you last spoke to him, and your heart still aches from it. Hearing his voice felt like splitting open a barely closed wound. You can't shake off how mournful he sounded when he said his goodbyes, like he knew you wouldn't be able to contact him again for quite some time. It has left you feeling unsettled. And, since your days are filled with nothing; you have more than enough time to think, think, and think some more. You sometimes wonder if cabin fever will take you out before the soulbond does. 
It feels like time barely passes here and yet you know that the sun rises and sets, that the minutes are steadily ticking away even if you feel frozen. Using your phone finally gave you an opportunity to pinpoint the date. The day you talked to Heejun was December 11th and now that one week has already passed, there are only seven days left until Christmas. It's odd to think back to how you celebrated the holidays last year, and how different your life was then. You knew of your soulmates but you didn't know them. You were scared but you were free. 
You shake yourself loose from your thoughts as Namjoon presses a soft kiss to your cheek, catching the tail end of his sentence as he says, "– for you, just call for me if you need any help, darling." 
"Great, I'll do that," You say. Namjoon doesn't seem to have noticed your wavering attention. 
You can only assume he mentioned he would leave you to read in peace, as he gives you another warm smile before he straightens up and exits the room. You hear him greet Hoseok in the kitchen, their voices just distant enough that you can't pick up on what they're talking about. 
Taking a deep breath, you try to empty your mind to focus on the task at hand. You did ask Namjoon for these books for a reason, so you must utilize the time you have. Namjoon seems to have borrowed the entire section the library has on soulmate-related books, so it's only a matter of time before someone comes asking for them.
You decide you might as well begin with the newer books first, they should hopefully contain all the information and studies that have been done on the bond over the last three hundred years or so. You grab one that looks somewhat familiar to you, a newer edition of a volume you're sure you did a paper on back in middle school. Skimming through it, you quickly skip to the section that talks more in-depth about bonds. You already know all of the basics, the history, the tale of the first two soulmates – it's practically ingrained into you from birth. What you need is something different, something uncommon in the sea of familiar facts. 
You're disappointed when you realize that the book barely touches upon soulbonds with more than two people. Having two or more soulmates isn't that uncommon but it's also not the norm. The most you've ever heard of was a group of five soulmates and they were treated as a media spectacle from the moment they announced it. You remember the headlines reading along the lines of rare, strange and unprecedented – so you can only imagine that if there are more groups like them out there, they're keeping quiet about it. The soulmates that did choose to step forward about their bond were insistent that it was the same as a bond between two people; they all loved each other and their connection was equally as strong for every soulmate. Their situation was clearly very different from yours. 
You close the book with a huff, moving on to the next one. There's a brief mention that soulbonds with more than two soulmates require a bit more work, but that's all. It's barely enough to fill a sentence. Your frustration only grows with every book you look through, it's just the same information regurgitated over and over. You know there's something out there though, the story Namjoon told you shortly after you had woken up at the cabin must come from somewhere. Namjoon might have found the excerpt online but you do recall that it was supposedly from an old and rather obscure book.
Your gaze drifts over to the book that looks like it's falling apart at the seams, the etching on the cover so old that the letters have been lost to time. You find yourself holding your breath as you gingerly pick it out of the pile, wincing as you feel the pages shift within the book. There's a small note attached to the front of it, one that reads: NO PUBLIC ACCESS. For a split second it makes you pause, thoughts that it might actually be a valuable book crossing your mind, but you quickly disregard them. If this book was important, it would've never been left to rot in the library archive. 
Carefully placing it in front of you, you open the front of the book slowly, mindful to prop it up with your hand so that you're not causing too much tension to the spine. The insides look as tattered as the front, the title page barely legible. The font is cursive and swooping, the letters blending together so well it's hard to make out much of it. In the end, all you can decipher is that it says soulmates and that it was written in the year 1783.
You turn the page, squinting at the faded words. The layout of it reminds you more of a diary than a book, with random dates placed before every entry. They explain how the author decided to travel around to gather stories about soulmates, soulbonds and the people they met along the way. After some twenty-odd pages, you finally come across what looks to be a table of contents. Tracing your finger down the side, you halt as you make out the words nucleus bonds.
Bingo.
You feel your pulse kick up a beat as you flip to the correct page. The title reads 'Highly unusual cases of soulbonds and soulmates' and you can tell from the first sentence that this must be the excerpt Namjoon had found online. 
It describes just what Namjoon talked about; that while there's always a risk of one soulmate feeling the bond more intensely than the other, the probability of it happening is heightened the bigger the bond is. Skewed bonds are typically seen in groups of four or more soulmates, as it is likely that one soulmate in particular becomes the nucleus of the bond – the center that holds it all together. The book goes on to mention examples, old cases of nucleus bonds you've never heard of. They seem more like fables than true stories, all of them more fantastical than the last, but it does seem that Namjoon was right. In the olden days, nucleus bonds were viewed as a gift bestowed upon them from the heavens. That the ones that found themselves experiencing it were special – powerful. 
"What a fucking joke," You sigh.
The only thing this bond has made you feel is helpless. 
There's a small paragraph at the end of the page, one you suspect wasn't included on the digital scan Namjoon found.
While powerful, nucleus bonds can quickly go awry if the proper precautions are not taken to ensure the bond's well-being. For ill effects of the bond, please see the entry on Lovesickness.
You feel your mouth go dry, a heavy pit settling in your stomach. This must be it. You can't help the slight tremble to your fingers as you flip to the correct page, unease and excitement blending into a confusing feeling. You desperately want to know what's going on, if there's something that's causing the boys to act the way that they are, but the title worries you. Not all illnesses can be cured. You've survived on the small hope that you might be able to help them but if that gets taken away, what will you have left?
You chew on the inside of your cheek, nervous, as you land on the right entry. 
// Lovesickness Lovesickness, or soul sickness, occurs when the bond between two or more soulmates is neglected. This illness has only been recorded in bonds with a nucleus soulmate and is thus regarded as a prominent ill effect. While skewed bonds may occur in any soulbond, it is even more likely to do so in instances where one soulmate is viewed as the nucleus. It is a dangerous soulbond, as it makes the other soulmates unstable and there is an especially high risk that they will crave closeness with the nucleus to make up for the weakened connection to the rest of their soul-group. The other soulmates or "the outsiders", are known to grow irrational, obsessive, angry, highly emotional, and in some extreme cases, they can even be influenced by other outsiders' emotions despite their weakened bond. After first contact is made, it is imperative that the affected soulmates spend time together to minimize the risk of soul sickness. Failing to do so will have grave consequences. //
"Oh gods," You whisper, staring at the book in mild horror. 
If what the book is saying is correct, then that means that everything that has happened over the last year isn't completely their fault. 
The soulbond must have started slowly poisoning their minds ever since they met years ago. They didn't even know they were soulmates back then, not until that night in Hoseok's shop, so you can't imagine they have been able to nurture the bond properly. Their connection was so weak they probably mistook it as simply wanting to become friends and even though you know they're all close, you also know that their schedules are so conflicting that it's impossible for all of them to hang out as much as they should have. The bond was practically doomed even before they met you. 
It makes sense that they all came together before you did, that perhaps there was a part of them that couldn't seek the nucleus out before they had collected the rest of the group. The sickness must've become even worse once they did find you – festering and growing stronger the longer they tried to stay away. You wonder if it was the bond that made them keep their distance back then. If their souls recognized that your connection to them was weaker than it was supposed to be, maybe that's part of what made them so scared to approach you. Regardless, it had likely reached a critical point when they decided to kidnap you, their souls so affected, so warped, by the illness that they had no other choice. 
All of this – everything that has happened – has been out of their control. How were they supposed to fight an illness they didn't know they had? 
You cover your face with both hands, muffling your choked breaths. You feel lost in a way you haven't before. Their actions are still not excused, you can't find it in yourself to forgive them for all the hurt and trauma they've caused you. But you can understand why they ended up going down the path they did now, because, well, it turns out they didn't have much of a choice at all.
There's no right answer here and you're finding yourself at a loss of what to do. You doubt that telling them about it will change anything, not when they're this far gone already. They'll probably just look at it as you trying to distance yourself from them again. 
You drag your fingers down your face with a low groan, glancing down at the book. The entry on lovesickness doesn't go past the page and you can't find any additional information that describes what you should do if something like this has already occurred; just that it's important to make sure that the bond doesn't get messed up in the first place. With the book being so old, well over two hundred years, it's not like you can reach out to the author for help either. But there must be something you can do.  
Thrumming your fingers against the table, you shift your focus towards the kitchen, to the soft sound of Hoseok's laughter. Now that you think about it, the boys have become more trusting, more mellow, over the past months. They have started leaving you alone for longer periods of time and they have calmed down significantly compared to when they first brought you here. Perhaps.. If your distance is what worsened their illness, maybe this – being close – is what is going to cure them? You doubt it can ever bring them back to normal, whatever that may be, but it could help stabilize them. 
If you try, really try, to accept them for what they are now and return their affection, it might help the bond settle faster. 
You give yourself a weak nod, closing the book as you push yourself up on your feet. You don't like thinking about affection, love, as just a means to an end, but it's not like the situation you're in is normal. You're willing to do anything if it'll get you out of here, and in the end, you're doing this to help both yourself and them. You might have tried to deny it this whole time but it doesn't change the fact that they're still your soulmates. As awful as it is, you have some responsibility over them too. 
You ignore the queasy feeling lingering in your stomach, shaking out your limbs before you muster up the most genuine smile you can. You just have to try. 
"Hey guys," You call out, crossing the common room to go join Hoseok and Namjoon in the kitchen, "What are you up to?"
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Soft sunlight streams in through the windows, warming your feet just so as you stand in one of the illuminated patches on the floor. There's activity from every corner of the cabin, Sundays being the only day all of them are able to gather at the same time. It's been four days since you realized just how messed up your bond is and you've been trying your best to stop pushing the boys away since then.
You look wistfully out of the window, the white snow sparkling under the sun. You haven't really been much outside since you tried to escape, their trust in you is too broken to allow you to. The most you've done is stand on top of the stairs with the door open; Namjoon waiting a few steps down in case you should be stupid enough to try to run, and Seokjin behind you, holding on to one of your hands.
You miss being able to walk around and move your body more, and you truly are beginning to go a little stir-crazy. 
"Hi baby," Jimin croons as he wraps his arms around your waist, gluing himself against your back, "What are you thinking about?" 
You lean into Jimin's hold, your heart quickening at the kiss he plants at the back of your neck. You let out a small sigh as you confess, "I'm bored." 
"Bored, hm? Anything in particular you'd like to do? I can think of a few ways to waste time." 
You can hear the smirk in Jimin's voice, heat rising to your cheeks as you remember the night you spent together.
"Actually–" You pause, bracing yourself for a negative reaction before you say, "I'd like to do something outside today. The weather is so nice." 
Jimin's arms tighten around you like a snake, so tense you worry they might pop right off his body. "Outside?" He echoes. 
"What's outside?" Hoseok seems to have abandoned whatever he was doing earlier in his room, his sudden appearance startling you slightly. 
"Y/n was just telling me that she's bored and that she wants to do something. Outside," Jimin fills him in, voice void of any emotion. 
Hoseok is silent as he walks across the room, meeting your gaze with raised eyebrows as you turn to look at him. He doesn't look away until he's standing next to you and Jimin, his eyes briefly flickering down to the death grip the younger has on you before they fly back to your face. "Why would you want that, sunshine?" 
It's not an immediate no – so you jump on the chance to play it up a little and use it to your advantage. 
"I just want to hang out with you guys outside, maybe do something fun. I just thought it would be nice to do something, you know, together," You pout. The sparkling snow in your peripheral gives you an idea. "Maybe a snowball fight?" 
Hoseok shares a look with Jimin over your shoulder, one that's long enough to almost make you nervous. Jimin eventually relaxes when Hoseok gives him a nod. It's hard to tell what's going through his head but surprisingly, Hoseok doesn't seem too put off by the idea. Maybe they really have begun to trust you again, or maybe this is just another test. Either way, it's something you can make use of. 
Hoseok reaches out to touch your cheek, his lips curving into a heart-shaped smile as he says, "That sounds like a good idea, sunshine. I'll go ask the others if they want to join."
"I call dibs on being on Y/n's team," Jimin says, smug. 
Hoseok's smile grows a little more dangerous as he moves his attention back to Jimin, "We'll see about that, Jiminie." 
You grunt as Seokjin tugs firmly on your jacket, sending you a step forward.
You're wearing so many layers you can barely move, all of them too big. The boys took great joy in dressing you up in their winter clothes, as nothing you have at the cabin is fit for withstanding the cold. You're glad you don't have to freeze, but the fact that everything you're wearing is too big doesn't evade you. They must still be worried about you trying to run away if they're trying to impede your ability to move.
You know not to make a fuss about it though, it's better to just go along with their whims when it's something so harmless. 
"Watch your chin," Seokjin warns before he drags the zipper up, sealing you in. 
"Thanks," You say, nodding for good measure. Your voice is so muffled behind Jungkook's thick scarf that you can barely hear your own voice. 
Seokjin flashes you a grin, gesturing to the door. "Go on then, sweetheart. You're going to overheat if you stay inside here for too long." 
You waddle over to the door, practically dragging your feet with how heavy the boots you borrowed from Namjoon are. You can hear the others talking outside, only Seokjin left behind as he volunteered to help you get everything on. You're admittedly glad you didn't just brush him off because there's no way you would be able to bend down with how thick your jacket and snow pants are. 
A burst of biting cold air hits you as you open the door. It takes you a moment to get used to the temperature difference but once you do, you shuffle down the stairs as quickly as you can manage. Hearing the snow crunch under your boots and feeling the sun warm the little skin you have exposed makes your heart swell. You finally feel alive again. 
"Y/n, there you are!" Taehyung throws the half-formed snowball in his hands to the ground, waving you over to where the rest of them are busy shoveling snow. The boys have already managed to clear a decent-sized patch, patting the shoveled snow into two barriers on the opposite sides of the cleared ground. Jungkook and Yoongi have even had time to start making two piles of snowballs, stacking up a good amount of them. 
Taehyung is sporting a wide smile by the time you make it over, his eyes twinkling as he opens his mouth.
"Don't say anything," You cut him off, huffing from the restrictive layers. Taehyung holds up his hands in surrender, chuckling as you try (and fail) to cross your arms. 
"I wasn't going to," He looks you up and down once, biting down on his lip to stifle his laughter. "But if I was, I'd say you look like a cute marshmallow." 
You groan. "This is way too much! I can barely move." 
"It's just to keep you warm, babe. We don't want you getting sick," Taehyung bops your nose with his glove. "Your team will cover you during the fight anyway, you won't have to move around too much." 
"Fine, if you say so," You murmur, not entirely convinced. You know all of the boys, especially Jungkook, have a competitive streak, so you doubt it's going to be as easy as Taehyung makes it seem.
"Seokjin hyung!" Taehyung calls out as he looks over your shoulder, "Hurry up! We need to divide the teams!"
It's quickly decided that the best way to do so is by playing Rock-Paper-Scissors. It takes a few rounds to get it right but in the end, you're teamed up with Hoseok, Seokjin, and Namjoon, while the other four make up the opposing team. 
"My poor angel, I can't believe she's been doomed to be on the losing team," Jimin sighs, all dramatic. He shoots Seokjin a teasing smile, like he just knows his hyung won't be able to resist rising to the bait. 
"Losing team?!" Seokjin exclaims, just as predicted, poking his finger into Jimin's chest, "How are you expecting to win? You and Yoongi are too short to even look over the barrier!" 
"Hey! Don't drag me into this," Yoongi pouts, swatting Seokjin's hand away from Jimin. "Let's just start the game. Namjoon, what are the rules?" 
Namjoon claps his hands together, gathering everyone's attention. "Alright, so the rules are very simple. You're allowed to run up to the line that goes through the middle of the cleared area. That means that some of the trees around here can be used for cover as long as you don't cross the line. If you're hit, you're out and have to wait off to the side for the game to end. One team wins when all the players on the opposite team are eliminated. Yoongi hyung and Jungkook have already made a pile of snowballs for each team, but we'll get exactly one minute before the game starts to make as many additional ones as possible."
"Everyone got it?" He asks, looking around the group. You all chime out yes, watching as Namjoon pulls out his phone and sets the timer to 60 seconds.
"Okay, as soon as I hit this, the game starts! Three, two, one– Go!"
You hurry as best you can over to the closest barrier, letting Hoseok drag you along to give you some extra speed. He helps you kneel once you reach it, looking over at Seokjin and Namjoon as he asks, "Okay, so what's our plan? We can't let sunshine get hit." 
"They have Jungkook, so they're going to go in for an intense attack right away. I think our best bet is to just wait until they start slowing down and then attack back. Jimin is probably going to try to sneak closer to the line once it dies down from their side, so let's try to take him out quickly," Namjoon says, keeping his voice low enough that it won't carry over to the other team.
"Sounds good," Seokjin hums. He hastily forms another snowball, adding it to the growing pile beside you. 
"I think you better try to stay out of the way as much as possible, darling, they can get pretty brutal," Namjoon adds, shooting you a worried look.
"That's probably for the best," You agree, slumping further down behind the barrier. There's no way you'll be able to play when you're this bundled up, you doubt you'll be able to duck in time if you even attempt to throw a snowball. 
"Okay, then–" Namjoon's eyes go wide as the alarm on his phone rings out into the near quiet forest. He mutters a curse as he ducks down the best he can, fumbling to turn it off.
The moment it goes silent, mayhem breaks loose. Snowballs start raining down immediately, hitting the barrier with dull thuds. You squeak as one lands right in front of your knees, nearly hitting you. You quickly shuffle to the side, practically crawling, as you hear the other team yell and taunt yours to fight back. 
Just as the attack begins to wind down, Namjoon gestures for the rest of you to lay low while he peeks over the edge.
He's hit in the shoulder before you can even blink, a burst of snow raining down on the rest of the team. Namjoon flashes you all a dumbfounded look as he stumbles back, reaching up to dust off the lingering snow as someone calls out 'You're out!' from the other side.
"They mean business," Namjoon mumbles, shaking his head as he hands his snowball over to Seokjin. 
"We'll get revenge for you, Joonie," Hoseok's expression is somber, a little too serious for a snowball fight. 
"They always get a little too into it, don't mind them," Seokjin whispers, pulling a face.
The moment Namjoon has safely left the area, the fight picks back up, Hoseok and Seokjin joining in on it. It doesn't take long before you hear an indignant cry coming from the other team, Seokjin yelling out a cheer at the direct hit he landed on Jimin. 
You feel like a sitting duck behind the barrier, unable to help your team with how tightly you're bundled up. With the boys still distracted by the ongoing fight, you quickly unzip your jacket in your crouched position, throwing it to the side. Thanks to Seokjin going a little overboard with dressing you up, you already had another jacket underneath to keep you warm. You smile, already feeling a little lighter. 
"Keep going, I'll cover your left," You murmur to Hoseok as you crawl behind him, your sight set on one of the closest trees. You ignore him as he hisses out your name, clearly confused as to why you're moving away from the barrier that's protecting you. 
There's a decent gap between the edge of the barrier and the nearest tree, so you'll have to make a run for it and hope that you manage to catch the others off-guard enough that they won't be able to hit you. You take a deep breath as you bring yourself up to a crouch, placing your hands on the snow for extra support. You shoot off as fast as you can but the big snow pants slow you down significantly, almost reducing your speed to a leisurely stroll. You barely manage to duck behind the first tree, taking cover, when you hear a snowball explode against it. 
"How could you aim for your soulmate?!" You hear Hoseok yell out. 
"Uhm, all is fair in love and war?" Taehyung sheepishly calls back. 
You huff, collecting yourself for a minute before you dare to peek around the tree. The coast seems to be clear, neither Jungkook nor Taehyung is looking your way. You can't spot Yoongi, so you can only assume he's ducked behind the barrier, making more snowballs to keep up with the tempo the two youngest are throwing them at. 
It's now or never.
You use the tree to give yourself a needed push forward, running towards the much larger one that's square in the middle of the cleared area. You're so focused on making it there without getting hit from the side that it takes you a second too long to realize that someone is coming full speed right at you. You barely manage to slow down before you crash right into Yoongi, the two of you stumbling into each other. Yoongi grabs your waist to steady you just as you reach out for his shoulders, your eyes locked in surprise. 
"You scared me," Yoongi wheezes, pulling you tighter against him as another snowball smacks into the tree. 
"Sorry," You puff, "You caught me off-guard too." 
You're both panting from the tiresome terrain, your breaths swirling up towards the sun. Yoongi's cheeks are rosy from the cold, the tip of his nose colored a precious pink. He looks so cute that you almost don't know what to do with yourself.
Your gloved hands find their way from Yoongi's shoulders to his cheeks, cupping them as you ask, "Are you cold?" 
"I-" Yoongi doesn't get the chance to reply before you hear Taehyung get hit, a chorus of groans and cheers sounding from the other side of the tree.
If Taehyung is out, that means that only Yoongi and Jungkook are left. You might not have been able to do much until now, but you'd be damned if you can't at least help take Yoongi out. It might be time to play dirty, even if what you're about to do makes you feel a little bad.
You swoop in to kiss Yoongi the moment you hear Taehyung being greeted by Jimin and Namjoon, pressing your cold lips to his in a chaste kiss. You feel him going pliant in your hands as your heart begins to race, your body burning hot despite the cold.
Yoongi has a starstruck look in his eyes when you lean back, one that quickly morphs into confusion as you yell out Hoseok's name before you duck. A snowball hits Yoongi square in the chest a second later, forcing him to take a step back. 
"You– Seriously?" Yoongi shoots you a betrayed look as you get back to your feet. 
"I'm sorry," You flash him an apologetic smile as you brush the snow away. "I think all of the competitiveness might have rubbed off on me."
"Please forgive me?" You murmur, planting another kiss on his lips, one that lingers a little longer. 
"You're gonna be the death of me," Yoongi groans, shaking his head at the bright smile he gets in response. "Hurry back to your team, Y/n, you haven't won yet." 
Jungkook might be a great player, but he's no match for 3 against 1. It barely takes a minute from the moment Yoongi joins the sidelines until Hoseok lands a hit on him, finally eliminating the entire opposing team. Jungkook looks stunned that he actually got hit, eyes wide as he touches his stomach. Jimin and Taehyung groan in unison, immediately beginning to bicker about what went wrong. 
"Loser team my ass, Park Jimin!" Seokjin points to the sidelines with a wide grin, laughing as Jimin flips him off. 
Hoseok wraps you up in a hug, swaying you from side to side as he laughs. 
"We did it!" You squeal, wrapped up in a burst of happiness as Namjoon comes running over, the entire team huddling together as you celebrate your win. 
"Well done, angel, I didn't know you were so sneaky," Seokjin chuckles, kissing your cheek. 
"I think we might have found our secret weapon," Hoseok agrees, eying you fondly as he ruffles your hair. 
You look over to the other team as you attempt to duck away from Hoseok's hand, your smile growing bigger as you notice the other boys laughing and joking around too. Jungkook seems to be mimicking Yoongi throwing a snowball that didn't go very far, causing Jimin to laugh so hard that he falls over. 
Your heart swells at the scene, at finally seeing all of the boys act normal and happy. Maybe you actually can do this. Maybe it's not too late after all. 
"Come on, let's bring it in!" Namjoon grins, grabbing your hand.
As you all jump around in a circle, arms tangled together and spirits high; all you can think of is that it feels nice – special, even – like something you could get used to. 
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a/n: what do we think about the new information the mc found – will it change anything?? and i hope you enjoyed some domestic time spent with the soulmates! (enjoy the good vibes while they last friends <3) i know i promised taegi last time but that has been pushed back to ch 15, so apologies for that, buuut you'll get taegi and namkook smut in one ch so i think that's a good deal, no? 🙈
please leave a comment and reblog if you enjoyed the chapter!! it means so much to me 💖 especially now that we're nearing the end of the story 🥺
(and you know the drill, please excuse any mistakes until i have time to go through and edit!)
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Our Little Love part six - OT7 Mafia/Yandere au
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Warnings - 3.6k words of : Toxic yandere men, sub drop, crime, violence, injury, emotionally abusive behaviour, possessive behaviour, lying and manipulation, monopolising, unhealthy relationships, aftercare ish, love bombing?, Namjoon's dark side is coming out but internally (because we can read his mind but MC can't)
It’s a sting or an ache that rouses you awake, coming from your bruised wrist. You let out a soft gasp of pain, lifting your head to see Yoongi carefully applying cream to the dents the ropes had burned into your perfect skin. 
“Hoseok and his stupid games,” he mutters, full focus on making sure he’s soothing the marks of their punishment, like if the evidence of them went away so would the sadness they inflicted on you as well. It was a stupid naive thought, Yoongi knew it, but your presence in his life filled him with that silly feeling of hope. 
He gently rests your wrist on the bed, searching for the next limb before he notices your eyes on him. They’re blank he notices, void of anything, fuck, they really did a number on you. He couldn’t swallow down the lump of regret lodged in his throat, no he would suffocate on it until you recovered. 
You feel the bed dip beside your head, but it doesn’t pull your gaze away from Yoongi as he pulls your other wrist cautiously away from where you held it against your chest. You feel fingers in your hair, the urge to nuzzle against them almost overwhelming but the memories of their harsh words keeps you still.
“Heaven,” Taehyung's deep voice murmurs loud enough for you to hear as he plays with the strands. “Does it hurt?”
At his words you feel something pierce your middle, a pain that lay dormant until it was called out. A part of him means the sting of Yoongi’s ministriations, another part of him means the hole they carved out of your chest. At first it might seem sadistic, but he needed you to feel it, if you felt empty it would be harder to coax you back, the hurt meant you were still alive, still with them, and not an empty shell they were terrified they pushed you to be. 
He would take your anger, your betrayal, your sadness over the void you presented to them now. Yoongi moves you carefully from your fetal position on the bed, so you’re lying on your back, your eyes meet Taehyung’s as he peers down at you. The position has an itch of anxiety building under your skin, it's too familiar to your punishment even if you aren’t as physically as exposed, but the burn in your extremities from those ropes lulled your brain into believing it was about to happen again. 
You see the frown in his brows as he watches your chest lift and fall too deeply, the look in your eyes like a caged animal looking for a chance to run. It’s when Yoongi takes hold of your ankle you pull away with a small whimper. Both men look at each other for a moment as you swallow down the rising panic. 
“Little love,” Yoongi says, being as reassuring as he can, “I’m not trying to hurt you.”
You inhale like your soul slammed its way back to your body, the corners of your eyes watering. 
“Liar,” you barely manage to whisper, but it's loud enough that it cuts him. He deserved that. The anxiety in your limbs creeps into your chest, seizing your lungs until you’re unable to take a breath. 
The hand in your hair moves to cup your face, his body lying beside you, your hand is on his chest, your insides fighting with the urge to push him away or clutch his shirt and pull him closer.
“Y/n you need to breathe,” Tae instructs against your hair soothingly, taking your hand on his chest in his. The other palm turns your head so you face him, his thumb stroking circles on your cheek. “Breathe with me.”
You want to tell him you can’t, but you try to follow his example, earning yourself a small smile on his face, the hum of danger dampening. You lose yourself to Tae as you both lie together, feeling yourself calm before sleep takes you again. The last thing you feel is soft lips on your temple, but you’re too exhausted to register it.
“How is she doing?” Jin asks Yoongi as he washes his hands, breaking his despondent stare at nothing. 
He just nods in reply, avoiding eye contact. There were only a few times that Yoongi ever felt himself be moved to tears, but the state you were in now shoved him on the brink of a breakdown. And the worst part of it all was that they were responsible. Aftercare, especially after one of Hoseok’s sessions, was vital and they all knew it and yet because they were caught up in their own emotions they let you drop. 
“That bad huh,” Jin laughs humorlessly under his breath, leaning against the door frame as he contemplates his own shortcomings. “Namjoon wasn’t lying when he told her we were the scum of the earth.”
He hangs his head back, looking up at the ceiling as if it would hold all the answers or at least grant him the ability to rewind time back to when you first woke up.
“We weren’t supposed to be scum to her,” Yoongi muttered, turning off the water that scalded his hands red, the pain was good, it felt like he was paying for his mistakes, although it was a small compensation to what he would have to pay. “The rest of the world doesn’t matter, to Y/n we were supposed to be worthy of her.”
“But we’re not,” Jin replies quietly. 
“We didn’t have to prove it,” he bites back, feeling resentment towards Namjoon for bringing it up at all. He understood the need to be accepted, raging red flags and all, but to you they were supposed to be better, you were supposed to be the exception.
“What if she never forgives us,” he whispers his fears to the oldest of them, that tight invisible grip around his throat still present. 
Jin can’t even bring himself to placate him, he can’t, he has the same fears. 
Jimin’s tears crumbled their already broken hearts, but when Jungkook joined in it made them feel a despair they hadn’t felt since the day you left them. 
“It’s going to be fine,” Namjoon says through gritted teeth, unsure of who he was trying to convince when a small voice in the back of his head was calling him a liar. If he could he would shoot the voice dead. “Our relationship isn’t that weak.”
Hoseok watches their leader massage his eyes as though a headache was starting. 
“You need to go see her,” Yoongi says to Namjoon, arms folded, voice empty of emotion. Their fearless head of the crime syndicate had yet to visit you since the fight in the bathroom, Yoongi knew he would eat his words once he did.
“How are we going to fix this?” Hosek groans, patting Jimin’s head as he cried. The maknae was attached to Jimin’s back, both of them on the floor as they sobbed. 
Taehyung had refused to leave your side, the others went in and out but Tae was afraid if he left you you would find a way to escape again, and he couldn’t live through that a second time.  
“We broke her by exposing her,” Namjoon mumbles mostly to himself, thinking out loud, biting the skin of his thumb uncharacteristically nervous. “Made her feel like it was something bad…” made her pull away from us because we didn’t make her feel safe and let her drop. “Need to rebuild trust in the same way,” need to make her feel loved, “reassure her,” hold her but keep her vulnerable so she doesn’t build back up with walls against us. 
His brain works fast, now that the Suho problem was dealt with, he could focus on you until the repercussions of the Captain came. He wasn’t stupid, he knew there would be some sort of retaliation, the Captain didn’t seem the sort to let things go. 
“No more games,” Yoongi breaks his train of thoughts, eyes boring into him before looking at Hoseok too. “No more punishments, she never deserved any of them we were just sadistic fucks looking for an outlet for our own insecurity.”
Namjoon’s fist clenches, unhappy with the tone his usually stoic friend takes, even if his words held some truth. 
“A whole world at our disposal to kick down and we take it out on our little love,” Yoongi scoffs, chuckling in disgust with himself and the others. “We really are scum of the Earth.”
The Captain doesn’t find the ceiling all that interesting, but it’s all he can stare at alone in the hospital wing. He’s not alone in the sense of physically, the hospital staff mill around working on the ward, he’s merely separated by curtains from the other patients, but the noise around him felt like a hum, a buzz in the background. The only visitor he had was the Chief of police telling him to stand down about the syndicate task force and then offering (ordering) him half a years paid leave. 
“Take the time off,” he had said. “Recover,” he patted Suho’s shoulder before muttering, “it’ll do you some good.”
But the captain could see the truth in the Chief’s eyes, a hidden variable that was making him speak through the shadows. Kim Namjoon got to the police, he had his strings attached to every officer like they were his puppets. He only needed the top brass, they would create order and command for him. He wondered what he had on them all, how deep the corruption ran.
It seemed he was cut at the knees in more ways than one, the leader of the crime syndicate really drove that message home. He laughs at himself humourlessly despite the lack of anything funny in sight. One of the nurses giving him a judgmental side eye, wondering to herself whether they gave him too much morphine. 
Suho could still feel the pain tearing through his knee and his hand, albeit dulled by the drugs in his system. The bullet had been lodged into his bone, it required surgery to be pulled out, surgery that was paid for by an anonymous benefactor. The thought of who he suspected as that person made him want to beg to put the bullet back. 
Powerless wasn’t a feeling he was all that common with, even in his darkest days on the force he always felt hope, knew he would see the Sun rise another day. But Kim Namjoon had a way of drowning the Sun, and all her rays of hope. He could only pray that by some miracle, he could pull you out of the waters before your light washed out. 
The scene when you open your eyes is eerily similar to the one before your world flipped upside down, a part of you wanted to believe the hands of time had turned back or at least you woke up in an alternative universe where the fight never happened, but the memories burned through your mind too clearly for anything else to be true. All seven of your walking talking red flags were posted around you in the room, eyes on you albeit much softer than that day, yet for some reason it puts you on edge. 
“Heaven,” Jimin sits on his knees on the bed peering down at you, you notice the telling red rims around his eyes and his nose, was he crying? Why? He tries to cover it with a smile, his eyes disappearing into crescent moons but he couldn’t hide the evidence from you, you knew him too well.
He takes your hand in his, bringing it to his lips before he mumbles desperately against your skin, his voice breaking, “forgive us.”
Tentatively, as if afraid you were going to break or run away, two arms wrap around your middle, the maknae lying beside you burying his head into you but you can hear the tell tale sniffles. It was rare any of them ever cried, you really must look like a state.
Your head throbs from the continuous cycles of sleep you were putting yourself through, sleep was safe and you were too exhausted to live, let alone deal with the repercussions of your relationship. 
“Jungkook, you’re smothering our dove,” Hoseok sighs, arms folded as he keeps his distance. He wouldn’t say it aloud but since he and Namjoon were the directors of your punishment and subsequently the push into subdrop he was afraid of approaching you.
It wasn’t just your rejection that would break his heart, but if his presence caused a reaction of trauma, more than what you were presenting now, it would crumble him. It took everything in his will power not to fall to his knees and beg you to forgive them, and the man had never begged anyone for anything before. 
Even Namjon kept himself an arm length away, sitting on the ottoman at the end of your bed, watching you as the others interacted. Soekjin had stood beside you, his fingers massaging your forehead as if he could sense the pain, but your eyes find Namjoon. 
“Did you hurt him?” It was the first time you had seen him and the first words out of your mouth were about that cockroach. He can feel his anger begin to simmer dangerously, his jaw clenches before he releases a self deprecating laugh under his breath. This was cruel even for you, was it a test? Why didn’t you ask him whether he killed him, that he could answer truthfully, the details were a little more complicated. 
“We didn’t kill him,” Hoseok says, his mind flashing back to standing on the roof of the opposite building holding the sniper as it took out the Captain’s leg.
“That’s not what I asked,” you whisper, eyes starting to water again. 
Namjoon glances at Yoongi’s warning stare, the thoughts written clearly on his stone face, enough of proving to you how evil they truly were, the truth didn’t matter, only you did. But yet there was something inside of him urging him to tell you, a sadistic part of him that wanted to break the already cracked dusty rose tinted glasses. Was it so bad of him to want you to love the darkest parts of him? Couldn’t you hear his soul cry out for you to love him despite how bloodstained it was?
“No we didn’t hurt him Love,” he sighs, hanging his head so he wouldn’t have to meet your gaze, his fist clenching the material of his trousers. The lie tasted like coal in his mouth, but he would swallow it down even if it upset his stomach. 
You let out a sound of relief, the weight on your shoulders suddenly disappeared and you could breathe freely again. They actually saw you smile, and the guilt only cemented. 
“Thank you,” you exhale, the feeling of love you were holding back against them now allowed to roam back into your body. There was hope, there was a chance to heal your relationship; they listened to you despite their murderous intent, you were relieved. You were so worried they would kill him anyway despite your plea not to, but this was proof they were willing to work on themselves with you, that you meant something to them more than being their toy.
You close your eyes, feeling overwhelmed. Jimin wipes away your tears, you hadn’t even realised had slipped from the corner of your eyes. 
“Our baby’s so caring,” Jin comments, trying to keep the bite out of his voice and eyes. Your gaze falls on him and he smiles, it’s the most fake thing he’s ever done in front of you but you’d believe it. Seokjin was a mastermind at manipulation, to the point he could paint whatever he wanted on his face regardless of his emotions. Namjoon had debriefed them before you woke up, the objective was to do what they did best, monopolise you back under their spell.
It throws you, the gentle expression on his face, maybe you did wake up in an alternate reality. Jungkook distracts you, pulling you closer against him, his lips on your shoulder, making his way up your neck and cheek slowly. You turn to face him, eyes in a daze, that sweet bunny smile greeting you shyly but your attention is pulled away by another. 
The back of Taehyung’s fingers trace your cheek gently, another smile greeting you when you turn to him on the other side of you, finding him kneeling on the floor beside the bed. He takes notice of your glazed stare, the slow confusion on your face.
“Aren’t you the cutest little love to ever exist,” he coos quietly.
“Our only little love,” Yoongi corrects him.
“Our slice of heaven,” Jimin pipes in.
“The only heaven we’ll ever see,” Namjoon’s deep voice gruffs.
That overwhelming feeling only grew, but it didn’t feel unwanted, you felt cushioned, like you were being lifted or floating on a cloud. Gentle touches, soft words, soothing your soul quiet, letting it rest. But you were unaware a part of you was being buried.
“Our perfect Angel,” Namjoon whispered and for some reason it felt like the final nail in the coffin making you snap back to your senses.
“No,” you sit up to face him, breaking away all the physical touch they had on you. The safe space they had lulled you into with all your defences bare had shattered. “You can’t expect me to accept you for all your flaws if you won’t do the same for me.”
There’s a fight in your eyes that comes alive as you stare him down, but he keeps quiet letting you fill the silence.
“I am not perfect, YOU need to stop pretending I am,” you throw his words back at him, he fucked you with those words and made you accept their cruelty, he would have to offer you the same respite. “I am done with trying to live up to this impossible image you have of me, because every time I break the illusion I can see the disappointment in your faces and it kills me every time.”
“Little love, you are perfect,” Jin sighs, moving to sit in front of you to break the staring match between you and Joon. “All those things you think are flaws are perfect Love, they’re a part of you, of course they’re perfect.”
His thumb strokes your cheek soothingly, trying to will away the fire when it threatened to burn everything they had spent rebuilding in this room with your recovery.
“If we made you feel anything other than perfect dove that’s our fault,” Hoseok admits, “but you already know how bad we are, it’s always our fault, don’t let us fool you otherwise.”
“You don’t get it,” you frown, looking down at your lap. “When you love me like that, it's a burden.”
“Love,” Yoongi calls for you, desperation in his voice, hating that you felt that way at all. “That’s not our intention.”
“Baby,” Jungkook sits up beside you, and you start to feel confined, their bodies like iron bars of a jail, keeping you with them for a life sentence you were beginning to think you deserved. “We love you, we made a mistake, we know that, but our love for you isn’t bad.”
“It’s the one redeemable thing about us Heaven,” Taehyung adds, looking up at you even with your head hanging low, trying to meet your eyes. 
You feel your eyes water, you just ached, wanting to be drowned in their love but protected from their consequences. Last time you took the coward's way out, you ran away, this time you needed to create distance, but still work on the problem without bias, without their love infecting you until you could heal them and yourself.
“I don’t know where to go from here,” you confess, holding back a sob. Your mind starting to win the war it raged against your heart and all it wanted.
Their solemn expressions snap to you, the panic in their eyes piercing you.
“What do you mean, little love?” Jimin says warningly, you sounded like you were wanting to end your relationship but you surely knew better than anyone that it was impossible. They wouldn’t let you go if you tried.
“I think we need to go on a break,” you state, your voice strained from the heavy feeling of wanting to cry in your throat. 
“Absolutely not,” Hoseok shakes his head, nostrils flaring at the suggestion.
“I’m not asking,” you say firmly.
“You don’t get to make that decision little love,” Namjoon’s lips twitch as he stops himself from growling, how dare you even think it. “You’re ours.”
You both stare each other down, neither willing to compromise. 
“I’m mine,” you felt in control again, you hadn’t felt this way for so long, like your soul belonged to you, you weren’t just floating in their desires, you were your own person. 
“We won’t let you leave,” Namjoon retorted, not denying your statement.
“I didn’t say I wanted to leave,” you shake your head, looking at each of them before your gaze returns to the leader of the syndicate, a challenge present in both your stares. “But you don’t get to touch me, or fuck me, or play your games.”
Every one of your new rules hit them like a punch to the gut, a cruel mocking thought passing through the air between them, this was the consequences of their fuck up, and they knew if they wanted to keep you, they would have to listen. 
“One last thing,” you say after a lot of deliberating, a squeeze in your throat trying to stop you getting the words out, a deep frown set between your eyes. “I don’t want you to call me little love anymore.”
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sopejinsunflower · 11 months
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a/n: so this was stuck too long in my WIP it might feel a little rushed at the end but  I’ve been in a slump for awhile so this is a small win to be able to finished. I hope you like demon Jimin. 
Warning: 18+, minors DNI, virgin reader, deception, a little Stockholm Syndrome-ish, death/suicide insinuated (this one’s dark, so please be caution before reading)
Summary: Having an imaginary friend is normal for most kids. What’s not normal is when you don’t outgrow it well in your teens. He’s persistent and possessive but when you meet who you thought was the love of your life, can you really deny your own heart? Even when he’s a demon lord?
Pairing: Park Jimin x you, Kim Taehyung, Kim Namjoon, Kim Seokjin
Tags: Demon Jimin! Yandere Jimin! Penetrative sex, controlling partner, deception, dom Jimin ofc because obviously this is supposed to be Set Me Free inspired.
Word count: 14k
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FIVE
The small hand wrapped around the pencil made the stationery look twice its usual size, gliding over the white paper as the little girl scribbled, forehead creasing in concentration, tongue sticking out. 
“What are you drawing?” her mother asked, leaning over to see the purple drawing. It’s a little difficult to make out but she can see two stick figures, one sitting down at a table with pigtails, drawing something, the other hunched down in the corner of the room. The woman pointed to the figure with pigtails. “Is that you, sweetie?”
The little girl nodded, pigtails flying into her face. 
“And who’s this?” her mother pointed to the figure in the corner.
Without looking up, the pencil still moving over the paper as she added in more details, she answered, “Jimin.”
“Who’s Jimin? Is he your new friend from kindergarten?”
The girl shook her head. 
Her mother frowned, a little confused. “Oh? Is he one of the Kim boys? I forgot their names.”
Again, the girl shook her head. She finally stopped drawing and looked up to her mother, sighing as if annoyed she had to explain this simple thing. “No. Jimin lives in my closet, mummy. He doesn’t go outside.”
Her mother’s blood ran cold, the words stuck in her throat. She watched her daughter go back to drawing, not even realising the way her mother���s heart was going wild. She licked her lips and tried to calm herself. An imaginary friend. That’s all, she thought. “I see. I didn’t know you have a friend in your closet. Is he a little boy?”
The girl sighed. “Of course. He’s my age.” She paused, putting the end tip of the pencil to her lips. “I think.”
The mother breathed a sigh of relief. She stood up and ruffled the little girl’s head. “Okay. Well, make sure you two play nicely, okay? And clean up after you’re done playing. Got it?”
“Okay, mummy,” the girl said, going back to her little art. Just as her mother was about to leave the room, the woman heard the girl continue to talk. “Did you hear that, Minnie? We can’t make any messes, okay? Or I’ll get in trouble.”
The woman smiled bitterly to herself. Being a single mother is hard enough and her daughter having an imaginary friend only further proves how lonely she was. She just hopes the Kim boys will be good friends with her, enough so that she won’t need an imaginary friend anymore. New place, new possibility, right? 
Sighing, she disappeared into the kitchen. “Honey, we're leaving in ten minutes. I need you to be ready by then,” she shouted over her shoulder as she prepared the girl’s overnight bag for the Kim’s household.
THIRTEEN
“Give it back, Taehyung! Give it back!”
You chase the laughing boy around the kitchen island, grabbing an apple from the bowl, ready to lug it at his head when Jin appears around the corner and easily plucks the ribbon from Taehyung’s hand. He gestures for the apple instead and you exchange the items; throwing the apple his way as he slides the ribbon across the island. “Thanks,” you say to him as Taehyung sulks. “It’s good to know not all of you are jackasses.”
Taehyung sticks his tongue out at you before going upstairs to his room, leaving you with the eldest. Munching on the apple, Jin points to the ribbon. “Another award?”
You nod, suddenly shy. “Yeah.”
“Oh, which one?” he asks, intrigues.
“Jimin.”
Jin chuckles. “Don’t you draw anything else?” 
“I do,” you snap, the shyness quickly replaced with annoyance. “But the Jimin ones always come out the best. And why is everyone so pressed about what I paint?”
“Because,” Jin says, taking another bite of the apple, “you’re literally drawing a ghost. He doesn’t exist yet he’s so,” he waves his hand around, “vivid. Enough for you to paint him like that. You’re obsessed with him.”
“I’m not obsessed!” you retort. “And he’s not a ghost.”
“Right. Your imaginary friend when you were five,” Jin adds. “That you keep drawing even until today. It is a little weird considering the fact that you’re drawing him the same age as you.”
You shoot him a dirty look. “Aren’t you going to class or something?”
Jin laughs. “I am.” He picks up his bag and slung it over one shoulder. “And this is my house, by the way.”
You roll your eyes at him. “Fine. I’m leaving anyway.”
“I’ll drive you home,” Jin offers.
“No, thanks. I’ll walk. I don’t want to meet your college friends,” you say, hurrying out the back door before he can protest. You stuff the blue ribbon into your bag and briskly walk up the street to your place. 
“You’re angry. Why?”
“I’m not,” you huff out, keeping your eyes up front. 
“You are.”
“I’m not.”
“You’re lying to me.”
At the change of Jimin’s tone of voice, you finally turn around to look at him. His eyes have grown darker, pupils dilating to the point that the whites of his eyes are gone. The stormy look on his face is enough to scare you to admit the truth. “I don’t like it when people talk about you like I’m crazy.”
“Why do you care what others think?” he scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. 
You don’t answer, looking down at your feet sullenly as you walk. 
“And what’s with Jin, huh?” he prods, leaning close to your face. “I told you to keep away from him. I told you to keep away from all of them.”
“They’re nice,” you say lamely. “I don’t know what your problem is with them.”
“They’re always trying to break us apart. I don’t like anyone who tries to break us apart.”
You remain quiet the rest of the way home because arguing with him is futile. He always gets his way, you think, as Jimin places a cold hand on your shoulder, his fingertips sinking into your flesh.
TWENTY
The world is spinning a mile a minute and the arm wrapped around your middle is only making you want to puke even more. 
Namjoon slowly places you across the sofa, making sure both your feet are up before he finally fully lets you go; gently, of course. He rushes to the kitchen to get a glass of water and an ibuprofen for when you wake up just as Taehyung emerges from the bathroom with a bucket to place by your side. 
You’re murmuring something, your words slurred, making it hard for Taehyung to understand. He puts his ear close to your mouth, listening hard in case you’re telling him something important. 
“What’s she saying?” Namjoon asks as he comes back in. He places the glass of water on the coffee table and the painkiller tablet next to it. “Damn, maybe we should’ve gone easy for her first time drinking.”
Taehyung shrugs, motioning for him to stay quiet. 
“Jimin,” you mumble through barely opened lips. “Don’t hurt them.”
Taehyung backs away, eyebrows raised all the way up. He turns to his older brother. “She’s calling for Jimin.”
Namjoon’s face clouds over, frowning in concern. “I thought she'd gotten over that phase years ago.”
  “Jimin, Jimin,” you call out, your voice growing louder, somewhat distraught. Taehyung and Namjoon exchange glances, unsure of what to do. Just as it suddenly started, you become quiet, breathing evens out as you sleep. Occasionally, your forehead creases over like you’re having a bad dream but the two brothers are just relieved that you’re passed out. 
“That was” Namjoon says, “unnerving.”
Taehyung gently pushes back your hair from your face, subtly caressing your cheek with the back of his hand. He thinks Namjoon doesn’t see it but if he did the older one remains quiet. Taehyung stands up. “I’ve texted her mum. She’ll be home soon. Let’s go.”
“You sure we can leave her alone?” Namjoon looks unsure about leaving but he also can’t deny the unsettling feeling creeping down his back, like he’s being watched. 
Taehyung hesitates before answering, “She’s sleeping now. Should be fine. Come on.”
In the old leather armchair in the corner of the room, Jimin watches as the two Kim brothers walk out of the house, not missing the way Taehyung looks back at you before closing the door behind him. He had seen the way that boy touched you, had seen the way he had pined over you all these years yet you never listen. 
Jimin squats down next to your head, one finger tracing the outline of your face. “I told you to stay away from those boys but you never listen to me,” he whispers, his words piercing straight into your dreams. “And here you are, drunk from your first time drinking. Twentieth birthday and you spent it with them.” You moan, turning your head away. Jimin smiles but there’s no tenderness in his face. 
When you open your eyes, the room is pitch black, so dark that even the bed underneath you is invisible. You turn your head, trying to look around but one movement makes you realise that both your wrists are shackled to the bedposts, or what looks like the direction of where the bedposts are supposed to be. The iron chains clang noisily as you pull on them. Immediately, your heart drops. 
“Jimin,” you call out, your voice coming out weak. “Jimin, please. Where are you? You know I don’t like being here alone.”
“I know, my sweetness,” comes his voice from within the darkness. He materialises in front of you, standing at the foot of what is supposed to be the bed in his usual all black leather pants and boots. He’s bare from the waist up, his toned body on full display; something that’s never happened before. “It’s amusing that after all this time, you still haven’t gotten used to this place.”
“Get these chains off, please,” you say, doing your best to keep your voice soft despite the panic rising in your chest. Yes, you’ve been in this space before but never like this. Something is different. “My wrists hurt.”
Jimin tuts, shaking his head. “Not yet. They need to be on for now.”
“What’s going on? Why is it different this time?”
“Because, my love,” he says, walking over to your side, the echoes of the heels of his shoes loud in your ears, “today’s your twentieth birthday. It’s time for your initiation.”
“Initiation?” you ask, looking up at him. 
“Yes, love. Have you forgotten?” He places a hand on your head, the icy cold of his skin making you shiver to the bones. 
“For what?”
Jimin smiles widen, something that has never offered warmth for as long as you’ve known him. Something inside you withers in fear but you can’t deny the other sensation starting up like a fire being lit up at the sight of his beautiful face split by that awful, awful smile. Jimin kneels down on one knee, bringing his face close to yours. “To entwine your soul with mine.”
A dry chuckle escapes your lips before you can stop yourself. “ You’d have to be real to have a soul, Minnnie. You’re just a…”
The look on Jimin’s face takes away the words from your tongue. He knows something you don’t, something you’ve had a hunch about all these years yet had been too stubborn or too scared to actually make yourself face it. With a blink, Jimin’s eyes turn jet black and your breath is stuck in your throat. “What are you?”
Jimin lets out a laugh, a loud belly-aching, rumbling laugh that seems to echo all around the space as he throws his head back. It’s not a nice sound and yet he never ceases to look just as mesmerising as always. The contradiction is throwing you off. 
“Fifteen years and only now you’re asking,” says Jimin when he finally stops, looking down at you with such pity. “I think it’s too little too late, my sweetness.”
You gulp tightly around the lump in your throat. “And what if I refuse? To do the initiation?”
The smile is quickly wiped off his face and suddenly he’s on top of you, straddling your chest but not really sitting. He leans his arms over the wall behind you, sneering down at you in a way that strikes both fear and anticipation of what he can and will do, making your stomach turn in a somersault. “It’s not a choice, love,” he hisses, his breath hot on your cheek. “I will have you, one way or the other.”
The menacing tone of his voice makes your heart beat faster. “Wh-what do you mean? Jimin, you’re scaring me,” you stutter out, the chains around your wrists rattling ominously. “I want to go back. Take me back, Minnie.”
“I will, just not right now,” he purrs into your ears. “Honestly, I’m hurt. Your twentieth and you celebrated with others, the Kim brothers no less. And you ignored me the whole night.”
“They threw me a surprise birthday party,” you counter, pleading. “How can I just walk away? They’ve been nothing but nice to me. They’re like my own brothers. They took care of me when my mother wasn’t around.”
“I took care of you!” he bellows, his eyes burning red this time. “I kept you company all of those times you’d cry yourself to sleep missing your dear mummy. I chased away all the bad dreams at night, I stayed with you every night when you couldn’t sleep without a night light on. Not them! They just swoop in when you move into a new place, free babysitting for your neglectful mother. They did all the easy work.”
You can’t help the way your throat constricts from being yelled at, something Jimin, in all his sadistic traits, had never actually done. Jimin sees the way your face crumples as you bite on your upper lip to keep them from wobbling and he cools off a little. He leans his forehead against yours, his dark fringe falling over his eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m just frustrated. You ignored me at the party.”
Your heart jumps at the sight of him sad. You try to touch him but your wrists are still bound, clanging the chains noisily when you move. “I’m sorry, Minnie. I- I got carried away. I was overwhelmed. There were so many people. You know I won’t ignore you on purpose, Minnie.” 
Jimin stares into your eyes, that same puppy-like look still swimming in his gaze, the kind of look that melts you so easily. It effectively wrecks you with guilt whenever you do something he doesn’t approve of, an ammo he’s used over and over again throughout the years. You lean into him as best you can with the chains’ restriction. “You believe me, right? Minnie? You know I need you.”
“Do you? After all these years, I’m starting to think you’ve forgotten that promise you made me,” he says, visibly pouting, sounding the saddest he had ever been. “You promised me that you won’t ever leave me if I keep the monsters away.”
You lick your lips and nod. Yes, you remember that promise, made when you were five, that first night he climbed out of your closet last, after all the other shadows came out first. In return to keep you safe from the others, you made that promise that only a child could. 
“I’ve kept the monsters away, haven’t I?”
You nod. 
“I’ve kept you safe every night from then on, haven’t I?”
You nod again.
“And so why do you choose the brothers over me?”
You swallow, shaking your head. “I don’t. I choose you.”
The corner of Jimin’s lips twitch. “You do?”
You give a small nod. 
“Really? I’m not convinced,” he states, readjusting his position, sitting a bit lower so that he rests on your pelvic bone. 
“I do,” you whisper out, feeling the heat creeping up from your waist down. It’s an odd feeling, something that has never happened before. 
Jimin’s more of a childhood friend, imaginary as he is. You both grew up together, just you and him against the world when your world had been so dark and so lonely, back when your mother would leave for work before the sun had even risen and come home when you’re already asleep. He was your saviour first then a friend, a protector and a companion but somewhere between being a tween and when puberty hits, he became a deep, dark secret. 
No one could see him and after enduring being called a liar and ostracised in the first grade, you learnt the hard way to keep your mouth shut and pretend he wasn’t there following you everywhere you go when in public. You told everyone that Jimin had disappeared, that you had outgrown him just as any children with their own imaginary friends. Only the paintings remain. In truth, you’re not even sure why you painted him in the first place but those paintings are the only times when people would actually listen when you talk about him. In the past tense, of course. 
Jimin is beautiful. He’s ethereal and your paintings of him were haunting. They evoke emotions from those who see them, making them pause and stare and weep if they look too long. You don’t paint him a lot, only five among the hundreds of canvases, one for each time Jimin had brought you into this dark space you don’t have a name for, yet they attracted the most attention, so much so that you got a full ride to the Royal College of Art. But Jimin won’t let you go. 
Jimin grinds onto you, leaning over so his face is inches from yours. “You do what? Give me the full sentence, love.”
Your throat is dry but you force your voice out anyway. “I choose you, Jimin.”
“Always?”
You whimper as he presses his crotch against yours, the sneer back on his face. “Always.”
The first time Jimin brought you into this space, you were six. It was an escape, a quiet safe space from the raging storm outside and your mother was still not home. You two had huddled together. The second time was at twelve, when your mother’s boyfriend of 6-months kept creeping into your room at night. Jimin had been furious then and while you hid in this space, Jimin promised you he would tell the man to stay away. He never returned to the house since and though your mother cried for his disappearance, claiming that she’d been ghosted, whatever that meant, you had been the happiest.
At fourteen, when the boy you thought you liked, asked you out as a prank for the whole class to laugh at you, the dark space was where you ran to hide, sobbing into Jimin’s embrace. It had been at the end of the school year but when the new semester started, the boy and his family had left town so suddenly that people only heard about it two weeks after. Taehyung had said, “Good riddance,” and even though you were relieved, it had felt too coincidental.
It was at sixteen when the hunch came about, growing in the pit of your stomach like some kind of fungus. A family had just moved in next door and they had a son, Adam, a year older than you; shy and sweet-seeming the first time he came around with his parents, exchanging pleasantries and jokes with your mum at the front door. They moved in the middle of the year and your mum had assured Adam that you would show him the ropes at school, to which you had obliged. Both you and Taehyung had gladly taken him under your wings, including him into your fold of friend group (which included only you and the Kim brothers, really). 
It took him less than three months to finally show his true colours. He had broken into your house when nobody was home and when you came back from your part-time job at the yoghurt shop, he had sprang out from the closet and pinned you to the bed. You don’t remember the rest of the details, except seeing Jimin looming behind him. You blinked and you were in the dark space, away and safe from danger. The next morning, his parents found him hanging in his closet, stiff and blue. They moved away shortly after that.
“I prefer you being here with me, mind, body and soul,” drawls Jimin, pulling you back to the now. “Where did you go?”
You’re pulled away from your train of thoughts and see Jimin leaning over you, eyes black, anger written all over his face. “Sorry,” you whisper. 
“You’ve chosen me,” he hisses through gritted teeth. “Act like it.”
He grabs your sides, nails digging into your flesh and you wince in pain. “I’m sorry, Minnie. I’m here. With you.” You take a deep breath. “Mind, body and soul.”
“As you should,” he says, his voice softening. He nuzzles your neck and you feel his teeth nip just along the collarbone. “Tonight, you will officially be mine.”
You feel his hands move slowly to your chest, softly kneading your breasts while his mouth never leaves your neck. You feel him press himself flat against you, the bulge in his pants so prominent you can feel the shape of him. You lay there, frozen, unable to say no nor even move away. Your heart is in your mouth and you’re too afraid that if you say something, it’s going to jump out and you’ll be dead. 
Jimin pulls away, staring directly into your eyes. The jet black orbs in his sockets reflect back your fear-stricken face but he isn’t fazed. He smiles and your stomach twists and before you can do anything (not that you are capable anyway), his lips are on yours and it feels like your whole body is on fire, and not the good kind either. Your lips feel like someone had stuck live wires directly to them and the burning pain makes you scream out, muffled by his mouth. Tears pool in your eyes.
Then you feel his tongue snake in and your eyes widen in surprise: a forked tongue. You struggle to get away but Jimin holds the back of your head in place, grabbing a fistful of your hair. The chains around your wrists clang noisily next to your ears as you start to squirm under him. Squirm as you are, your mouth seems to be reacting the opposite way; moulding with his like they want to be fused together; you both want him and are disgusted by him, lips pulling him in, body resisting. He finally pulls back, displeased.
“I want to go back. Please,” you sob, unable to hold back the tears anymore.
“We’re not done yet,” he says, forked tongue catching the tears. “I haven’t even started, my sweetness.”
Your heart skips a beat. “Start?”
“The initiation, you silly goose.” He continues to lick down your neck, catching your earlobe in between his teeth. 
You swallow hard. “Jimin, what is the initiation?”
“You have to give me something you’ve never given anyone else before,” he whispers into your ear and the hairs on your neck and arms stand on end. He moves to the other ear to add, “Your virginity, my love. Your one and only. It shall be mine.”
Jimin’s fingers unbutton your jeans and just as he’s about to shimmy it down, your brain clicks and you finally yell out, “Wait!”
Jimin lets out a growl, raising only his ember eyes to glare at you. “What?”
You’re breathing hard as your mind races to try and find a good excuse. You’ve never even had a boyfriend, never even got the chance to go on a first date. While your female friends, limited in number as they are, gushed about their partners, about the things they would do, about the sweet little gifts they’d get on Valentine’s, you had smiled and been happy for them, doing your best to ignore the bitter feelings clawing at the back of your throat. 
You’ve had suitors, of course, but for some reason they never stick around. They’d ask you out but then stood you up when you arrived with not even a text to explain or apologise. If they managed to get past the first date, you never hear from them again after it ends. You’re only twenty, your whole life is ahead of you. It’s stupid but you want your first time with a man to be special. You want to be loved up, taken out on dates, wooed off your feet and be promised the world even if it’s all a lie. 
Jimin is looking at you, head tilted to the side. “You want all that?”
You stare at him. “Huh?”
Jimin frowns. “All the things you were thinking about just now. You want all that?”
 “How-”
“Just answer the question,” he snaps impatiently.
You nod, unable to say the words. Jimin sighs, tilting his head upwards like he’s facing with a minor inconvenience. “But why? It’s such a waste of time.”
“I-,” you stutter but clear your throat and try again, although your voice comes out small. “I’ve never experienced it. I want to know what it feels like. All this time I’ve only ever seen others go through it and I just…I just want to know what it feels like. To fall in love and to be loved.”
When Jimin doesn’t say anything, you quickly add, “I won’t…I won’t have to sleep with the person. I can tell them I’m waiting for marriage.” At this Jimin snorts but you ignore him. “Just…just let me experience all that and then you…you can have my…my everything.”
You’re not sure what Jimin will say but he looks like he’s actually thinking about it. “I promise,” you say, just to convince him. 
Jimin crosses his arms over his chest, his eyes going back to normal. “Okay, fine.”
You can’t believe what you’re hearing. “Really?”
He nods, almost excitedly. “Sure. Anything for you, my love.” He leans down once again, caressing your forehead. “I’ll let you have all that. And after that, I’ll take what’s mine.”
“Thank you,” you whisper out, feeling elated. “Thank you, Minnie. I promise I’m yours.”
Jimin smiles. “That you are.”
You’re back in the real world, already in your own bed. Jimin is nowhere to be seen and he’s still not around the next day. A week passed by and you haven’t seen any sights of him anywhere, like he’s just gone. Like he was never there. It’s strange to suddenly be alone, truly alone for the first time in years but it’s also liberating. You’re free.
A month later, you’re starting to believe that it had all been your imagination after all, that maybe you believed in him so much so that you made him real. You spend more time with the Kim brothers, even get to travel to Europe to visit the Royal College of Arts with Taehyung to see if you’d like the place. You do, so you take up the scholarship and move abroad with him, although he goes to a different school. 
You made a lot of friends, went to a lot of parties and art shows. You painted a lot, too, and none of them of the man that haunted your youth. Even his face is a blur, memories that seem to be fading faster than normal and by your sophomore year, you’ve forgotten all about him. 
You travelled a lot, mostly around Europe, with different friend groups as well as the Kim brothers whenever your holidays aligned. You met a lot of people, went out on a million dates, experimented with different genders and even had a short fling with an up-and-coming actor, but the one thing you could never do was fall completely in love.
You’d meet someone you think will be the one but nothing ever survived past the third month. This time, it’s not them; it’s you. You just can’t seem to give them your all, pulling away the moment they fall. You don’t know why either and you have no intention of hurting people. So you stop, telling people you no longer have any interest, that you’re asexual, that you’re anything but normal so that people will leave you alone instead of trying to set you up or ask you out.
You miss the connection, you miss having someone to come home to, someone to be there when you wake up from another nightmare. But if you can’t give it your all, it’s only fair you don’t give anything at all. Thus, your purity remains.
 TWENTY-SEVEN
You finish applying the fresh coat of lipstick in the mirror, standing back and admiring the view, making sure that not a hair is out of place and your makeup is perfect. Satisfied, you give yourself a nod.
“Let’s do this,” you say to yourself, snapping your purse shut and fixing your skirt. You exit the ladies’ room and make your way to the meeting room. A new partner is coming on board and you, being one of the leading managers for the big project next month, will have to give a presentation to the man, a briefing to bring him up to speed. You take a deep breath and enter.
Your team and your boss, Martin, are all sitting around the big oval table. They look up and visibly relax when they see it’s you. You look around the room. “He’s not here yet?”
“He’s coming up now,” Martin answers, pulling out the chair next to him for you. He leans in to whisper, “Everything ready?”
You nod and smile. “Yes. Everything’s taken care of, don’t worry.”
He breathes a sigh of relief. “We need to make sure he’s happy with this. He’s bringing in a lot of money.”
You bend down to retrieve the folio that you’ll be using when the door opens and everybody stands up. You’re still trying to pull out the thick papers from your bag as you hear a new voice greet the room. You freeze, confident you’ve heard it before. You pull out your materials and look up, seeing the new partner for the first time. 
He’s handsome, dark hair with a middle parting to his fringe giving him a boyish look. His hands are shoved into the pockets of his grey slacks as he makes his way around the table towards your boss. He extends one hand and then turns to you, the smile never leaving his lips. You take his hand and jump a little at how cold his skin is. “Jimin Park,” he says, his voice velvety pleasant, “Pleasure to meet you, y/n.”
The way he says your name makes a shiver run down your spine for what reason you’re not sure. Have you met him somewhere before? Everybody takes a seat and the meeting begins. You speak for most of the time and Martin beams at you proudly at how well your presentation is. All the while, Jimin only watches intently, listening and nodding but not saying anything more than a few clarification questions here and there. He never stops smiling. 
When you reach the end of the presentation, the room gives a round of applause, and so does he, eyes never leaving you, that same smile constantly on his lips. You should be happy, you should feel accomplished that he seems happy, too, but a nagging feeling tells you that something isn’t right. As everyone gets ready to go for a team lunch, Jimin included, you finally realise what it was that bothers you so much. 
He’s smiling but it never reaches his eyes; there’s no warmth in them. 
***
“So, how long have you been working here?”
Jimin sits across from you, casually leaning back against his chair like he’s very comfortable, monolid eyes sharp on you. 
You clear your throat, shifting in your seat like you’re uncomfortable under his gaze. “A little over five years now,” you say with a polite smile. “Got in right after graduation and never left. They’ve taken great care of me.” You turn to Martin who  puffs out his chest proudly. 
“One of my best, that one,” your boss chimes in, pointing at you while your coworkers chuckle lightly. 
“I bet,” Jimin mutters, eyes still on you, but you think you’re the only one who caught it. “Well,” he says, louder now, turning to your boss, “you have me on board. Just let me know what support you need and,” he turns back to you, “I’ll do my best to give it my all.”
The table cheered and everyone fell into light conversation all around. All except you and Jimin, staring at each other, him looking like he knows things you don’t, a smug little smile on his lips, you, a little put off by how much attention he’s giving you. You think about telling your boss of how uncomfortable Jimin makes you feel but you’re a little hesitant that it might backfire since Martin is awfully fond of him. You wrench your gaze away from Jimin, finally, focusing on your food, doing your best to ignore the fact that you can feel he’s still watching. 
Weeks go by and you’re thrown into one of the most hectic phases of the project, launching in a couple of months. This is when your phones won’t stop ringing, business people coming and going from your office in constant streams and a lot of fuck ups with orders. You’re running around everyday, barely even sitting down, never mind to eat and it’s starting to show by the slight gaunt look on your face and how your skirt is barely hanging on your hips. But you love what you do so you power through. 
You’re on your hands and knees in your office, going through the white blueprint of the event hall spread over the floor in front of your desk, checking every minute details to correct before you send off copies to the vendors when a voice from behind you makes you visibly jump. “Nice view.”
You turn around to see Jimin leaning against the doorframe of your office,a coffee cup in each of his hands and a white paper bag tucked under his arm. You scowl at him, wondering what he meant because your ass would have been pointing in his direction when he said those words. You sit up on your knees. “That’s sexual harassment,” you say, your voice curt.
Jimin’s lips twitch but his eyes widen in surprise, whether genuine or not, you can’t tell. “I was talking about the venue. I’ve been there and those wide windows at the back will give a really great view of the city. The clients will love it.”
The scowl remains on your face but you move sideways so you can bend over the blueprint again, but this time, not ass presenting him. You hope he goes away, taking the hint that you’re busy. 
“Here. I brought you coffee and some sandwiches,” Jimin says, entering your office without asking for permission and placing the paper bag on your desk. The coffee cup, he holds it out for you. 
You glance at the cup briefly before nodding to your desk. “Thanks. Just leave it there. I need to finish this.”
“No.”
You pause, looking up at him in surprise and confusion. “Excuse me?”
“I said, no,” Jimin repeats; the same easygoing smile on his face, the same cold look in his eyes. “You need to take a break or you’re going to collapse before this project even finishes.”
You stare at him, contemplating on not satisfying him because who the hell is he to tell you what to do? But a steaming cup of coffee sounds so good while it’s still hot, rather than later when it’s lukewarm. You sigh and take the cup from him, standing up as you do. “Thanks,” you say again, much softer this time and almost shyly, mostly for being told off. You take a sip and immediately feel the tension melt away. You sigh heavily, tilting your neck this and that way, cracking them to relieve the stiffness.
“Do you always throw yourself into work like this?” Jimin leans against your desk, the rim of the cup at his lips but eyes looking down at the spread out blueprints and other papers all over the floor. And yet, it feels like he’s watching you anyway, from the corner of his eyes.
You shrug your shoulders. “It’s a busy time.”
“Really?” he asks, looking sideways at you. “You sure you’re not running away from something? Distracting yourself with work?”
You turn to look at him. “What are you talking about?”
He meets your gaze. “Oh, just wondering.”
You stare at him, incredulous, but decide not to answer him. “You should go.”
“Don’t you paint anymore?”
You freeze, looking at him like he’d just grown another head. Your heart rate spikes a little as you comb back through your memories, trying to think if you told him anything about your past hobbies. No, you don’t think so. No one in this office knows that you come from an art background, only assuming that you had graduated from the business school of RCA. You swallow thickly, subconsciously backing away from him. “How do you know I even paint?”
Jimin looks at you calmly, letting five seconds pass by before moving away from the desk to point at a picture frame set on it. It’s a picture of you and Taehyung on your graduation day, the Royal College of Arts main building in the back. “Oh, I just assumed that from that picture.”
“Most people assumed I came from the business school,” you say, your voice a tad bit shaky.
Again, Jimin looks slightly alarmed. “Oh, I didn’t even know they had a business school.”
Bullshit, you wanted to say but your mind is reeling.
“Well, from your reaction, I’m guessing I was right,” Jimin continues, languidly relaxing back against your desk. “So, my question still stands. You don’t paint anymore?”
You don’t like his tone of voice; condescending and smug, like he knows more than he lets on. You find yourself answering, “No, I don’t.”
“Why not?”
“I just don’t.” Then, on second thought, you add, “I can’t.”
Jimin tilts his head. “Why?”
Your forehead creases over as your eyebrows stitch together, struggling to keep your emotions in check because you hate it when someone questions your past. It’s always been one of the problems with prospective partners; they always want to know everything. And then get hurt when they do. But to Jimin, you square your shoulders and the look on your face hardens. “None of your business,” you snap, a little too harshly before regretting it. He is your boss after all. Sort of. 
“Is that how you talk to me?” His voice is low and cold, devoid of any of the friendliness he had earlier. 
You gulp. “Sorry, sir. I’m just- I’m a little stressed out right now,” you confess, not even sure why you are. 
“Go home,” he says, his voice back to normal. “Take a rest.”
“But I have to get this-”
“I’ll handle it,” he promises, pushing off the desk and coming over to you. In a few steps, he’s standing in front of you, toe to toe, too close for personal space, looking down his nose at you. He’s even more handsome up close, breathing down on you like you’re nothing but a child that needs to be put in place. “Go.”
You give him one last look before gathering your things, including the sandwiches he brought, and leaving out the door. You glance back only once at the elevator, looking at him looking at you, sipping on his coffee casually, one hand in his pocket. 
- - - 
You remember going to bed. You remember falling asleep. But you don’t remember waking up and being…here.
Where am I? What is this place? Everything feels so real, so vivid that you’re very sure you’re awake instead of dreaming. But there’s nothing here, just pitch black. You can’t see anything except for yourself, like a game character in a glitch where the world didn’t render correctly. You walk around but no matter how long and how far, there’s still nothing, making you feel like you probably didn’t move at all. 
If this is a dream, how do you wake up? Because this darkness and nothingness is unsettling, even more so when you can feel the cool linoleum feel under your bare feet but can’t see it. You stop moving, feeling defeated, hoping you’d wake up soon. 
“Hello, my sweetness.”
You jolt, turning around towards the cool voice and seeing the silhouette of a man a little further away. You squint, trying to see better who it is, stepping closer. “Who are you?”
“You know exactly who I am,” comes the voice and then, like a lighting on stage, his whole feature grows more visible. Jimin Park, your second boss. 
“What the hell?” you exclaim. “What are you doing in my dreams?”
Jimin’s mouth perks up. “You think this is a dream?”
You look around. “It’s the only explanation.”
You blink and suddenly Jimin is right in front of you, looming so close you have to look up to look at his face. You teeter and step back a pace. Like usual, he has that same smile on his face but his eyes, his eyes are different. They are jet black. “Still think this is a dream?”
You nod but hesitantly. You notice then that he’s bare from the waist up, toned muscles on full display and you think, So this is what he looks like under the suit. You can’t help but stare, unable to deny to yourself the arousing interest in your chest. A wet dream, you think, that’s why he’s here. 
Jimin laughs lightly, like he can read your mind. He leans closer and you half close your eyes, expecting his lips on yours. When it doesn’t happen, you blink your eyes open again to see a smirking Jimin. “Were you expecting something?”
You pull away, huffing. “No.”
A finger catches your chin, holding it in place as he makes you look at him. “You’re lying to me,” he says, his voice threatening and your heart races. There’s something familiar about his words, something familiar in the way you feel in his presence. The more you think about it, the more you realise that there’s a subtle fear of him. You wonder why because these past months, Jimin had been nothing but nice and a fair new boss to everyone.
Nice. But not warm. There’s always a cold edge to his demeanour, like everything is an act. Like he’s only pretending. 
The look in those jet black eyes is heavy and almost searing at the same time. You want to say no again, but something in the back of your mind warns you that he won’t take another lie and you wouldn’t like the consequences. “Yes,” you breathe out in a whisper.
“Yes what, my sweetness?”
Your mouth is dry but you force yourself to speak. “Yes, I was expecting something.”
“Good girl,” he coos and you feel his cold hand settle on your side, pulling you closer. “See, wasn’t so hard to admit it, was it?”
You don’t answer, feeling his fingers trace up and down your side, sneaking under your pyjama shirt and grazing your skin, making you shiver from the coldness and the anticipation. It’s a dream anyway, right? You can do anything in a dream. You tilt your chin up, looking at him through puppy-eyes and pouty lips. “Well?”
Jimin smirks again, only one side of his lips turning up. “As you wish.” He leans down and connects your lips to his and the searing pain shoots through your lips and down to your toes, making you moan into his mouth. Your eyes shoot open and you’re suddenly back in your bed, staring at your ceiling, breathing like you’ve run a marathon. 
You sit up, looking around the room but everything looks in place. The clock on your bedside table shows it’s three in the morning and you have to be awake in another three hours. You lay back onto your pillow but you’re too worked up to go back to sleep. Your lips are still tingling and you touch it gingerly with the tips of your fingers. You recall the dream, seeing your half-naked boss standing in front of you and you shake your head.
Ugh, you think, I have to get that image out of my head. 
The next day at work, you’re barely able to look Jimin in the eyes. You can’t help the image that keeps popping at the front of your mind every time you see him so you avoid him at all cost, leaving a room when he comes in, looking away when he’s talking to you. This continues on until the next week to the point that everyone else is starting to notice. Martin finally pulls you aside into his office one day.
“Want to tell me what’s going on?” he asks, steepling his fingers together on his desk. 
“I don’t know what you mean,” you reply, feigning ignorance. “Is something wrong?”
He sighs. “You’ve been avoiding Jimin and even I can see it. Did something happen between the two of you?”
“No,” you say, shaking your head. In truth, you’re replaying all of the dreams you’ve been having the past week. Every night, without fail, your second boss, Jimin, has been visiting you in your dreams, doing things you only wish he would do in real life, things you don’t even dare to admit to wanting. Every spot he lays his lips on burns like he’s made of fire and yet you crave it every time you wake up. “No, nothing happened,” you reiterate. 
“Are you sure?” he prods. “I thought you two were getting on well. He speaks highly of you, too.”
“He does?” you ask, raising your eyebrows. 
“Yeah. It’s starting to make me a little jealous,” Martin says with a chuckle. “I brought him in but it feels like he’s stealing away my best worker.”
You shift in your seat, ignoring the unsettling feeling in your chest. You laugh lightly along with him. “Don’t worry about it. He’s not stealing me away from you. I’m all yours, boss.” 
“Really?” 
His tone of voice shifts and dread fills your lungs. No, please no. He’s been so good to you and you have loved this job. Please don’t. Martin stands up and walks over the desk to stand in front of you, his crotch rightly aligned in front of your face as you sit there. You push back the chair a little bit. 
“You’re an amazing employee, y/n,” he says, his voice low and soft. “And I would like to make sure that you’re loyal to me.”
“Of course I am,” you say with a smile. “I’ve been here for a long time, haven’t I? I love my job and I would like to stay here as long as I can. You don’t have to worry about it.”
“Oh, but I do.” He leans his hands on both the arms of your chair. “And with a new, young partner in the picture, I’m worried that he’s going to get all of your attention.”
Your throat is tight and swallowing is painful. “He’s-he won’t. I mean, you’re both my bosses so I don’t really have the power to say no if he has other projects for me when this one finishes.”
“Well then, prove it,” he purrs, his face up close to yours. “Show me how loyal you’ll be to me.”
You lick your lips. “But- but I have. All these years I’ve-”
“You know that’s not what I mean,” he says, his eyes darkening. 
“Then what do you mean?” 
Martin smiles and steps back. His hands go to the fly of his pants and you think you’re going to throw up. Your skin feels clammy and cold and there’s a ringing in your ears. The office door bangs open, slamming against the wall and both of you look around to see in shock. 
“Sorry to interrupt,” says Jimin in a serious tone. If he knew what was happening, he didn’t show it. “But we have a problem with one of the vendors. I need y/n to help me smoothen things out.”
You spring up to your feet and excuse yourself, hurrying out of the door with Jimin behind you. You make a beeline for the ladies’ and shut yourself in a cubicle, breathing heavily, leaning against the door as if Martin might just burst right in. You lean your head against your arm, pressing against your eyes to kind of shake yourself out of the panic that’s building. 
“My sweetness.”
You look up, blinking at the sudden change of environment. The cubicle you locked yourself in has disappeared, replaced with nothing. Nothing but darkness. The voice that calls for you isn’t the usual flirt; it’s serious, solemn, commanding. You turn around to find Jimin standing there, this time, for the first time, fully clothed in all black. His eyes, though, are fiery red. 
You don’t know why you did what you did next but it felt like the right thing at that moment. You sob, running into his arms as he catches you, enveloping you in a tight embrace. He lets you cry into his shirt, caressing your hair and holding you quietly as your body shakes with every weep. It takes a while until you’re finally calm enough to step back, wiping at your face with the back of your hands. 
“I’m sorry,” you hiccup. “I just- I didn’t know what came over me.”
Jimin watches you, quiet, not saying a word until you finally look at him. “It’s not the first time you’ve run to me when someone’s hurt you, my love.”
Your eyebrows furrowed. “Huh?”
The fire in his eyes dim a little as he tucks your hair behind your ear. “You’re always so stubborn. You never listen. So even if I tell you, you won’t believe me.”
“What are you talking about?”
Jimin sighs but the kind of sighs that tired people let out when dealing with annoying situations. “Still so stubborn. Never mind. What shall we do about him?”
Your eyes widen. Does he know after all? Or is this just your subconscious making him know what had transpired in Martin’s office? The latter, of course. It’s the only explanation. You’re dreaming again. Or hallucinating. The thought of what Martin had done resurfaces and suddenly you’re angry; angry at him but also at yourself for being such a fool for not seeing it for what it is even when he has been hinting at it for all these years. But why now? Why only now showing his true colours? 
You bark out a bitter laugh. “There’s nothing I can do. He’s the boss. He’ll get away with it or I’ll be asked to move away.” Then you start to nod your head. “Yeah, maybe it’s time for something new.”
“Go back to painting?”
You glare at him. “Why are you so obsessed with that?”
Jimin chuckles and changes the subject. “Well, if you want I can make him go away.”
You wipe the remaining tears from your cheeks but the anger is still there. “Yeah, sure. Do that.” You press your palms to your eyes, an act to rub out all the crying you did earlier but when you open your eyes again, you’re back in the cubicle. 
You step outside and wash your face, steeling yourself to leave the ladies’ room to face whatever or whoever is outside. You take a deep breath and open the door and Jimin is waiting on the other side, leaning sideways against a wall. 
“You okay?” he asks, approaching you. “Did something happen with Martin?”
You stare at him blankly, thinking back to that conversation, although imaginary, you just had with him in that other place. Thinking of what Martin did to you, or almost did to you, and the fact that you had been dreaming of your other boss nearly every day this week feels hypocritical. “Yeah,” you say, nodding. “Nothing happened. You said something happened with a client?”
“Vendors,” he corrected, eyes as cool and calculating as they always are, looking at you as if he’s trying to figure out why you’re lying, not that he knows that. Does he? “It’s fine. I took care of it while you were in there.”
You raise your watch to your face. “That soon? Are you sure? I can call them up again just to ensure everything is good.”
Jimin gives you a small shake of his head, a small hint of a smile on his lips. “Nope. It’s fine. All taken care of.” Something in the way he says the last part gives you a strange vibe, like he wasn’t talking about the vendor problem entirely. 
It doesn’t take long until news reaches you, literally on the 8PM broadcast on TV while you are eating dinner of microwaved pasta. The picture splashed on the screen is one you recognise well, having seen the man for the past five years or so everyday at work. The news talks about how, with the help of an anonymous tip, Martin J. Russell of Rocket Media Ltd has been arrested for multiple sexual offences, spanning years of sexual assaults of past coworkers with pictures and videos found on both his work and personal devices. 
Your fork drops into the container as you stare, mouth agape, at the TV. What in the-
As much as a part of you is singing with relief, another part of you can’t completely dismiss the persistent notion that whatever happened to Martin wasn’t coincidence, that it didn’t just happened right after he tried it with you and you had-
You stop thinking, standing up abruptly that your chair scuttles backward noisily. Jimin. Something about Jimin is squirming at the back of your mind but you can’t quite put a finger on it. Not a minute later, you receive an email from HR, blasted to all employees, requesting that if you need to speak to someone, you may contact HR representatives or a mental health hotline, as well as the office will be closed for a week due to the current investigation ongoing. All employees will have the option whether to take days off during the week or work remotely and either choice will have you be paid like normal. 
There is more to the email, including a subtle request for employees to keep their mouths shut except to authorities or HR and it makes you think about earlier today. Bile rises to your throat at the idea of having to admit what had happened today when you just want to forget about it all. Your phone rings.
It’s Jimin, now the one and only boss.
You take a deep breath and answer it. 
“If you’ve heard the news then you know why I’m calling,” says Jimin over the phone, his voice sullen. “I’m asking you again, did something happen between you and him today in his office?” 
You’re quiet, your voice stuck in your throat. 
“Y/n,” he calls, a warning tone. “I don’t want to have to ask twice.”
“It doesn’t matter,” you finally answer, your voice sounding breathy. “He’s caught. It’s done.”
There’s a brief pause before he finally speaks. “So something did happen.” When you don’t respond, he takes that as an affirmative. He lets go of a deep breath. “Take the week off.”
“But the project, we’re already behind on-”
“Fuck, y/n,” he snaps. “We have worse issues on our hands right now. Take the week off. I’ll deal with things here and the clients.” Then he sighs. “Have you spoken to the authorities yet? About what happened today? They would want to hear about it.”
“No. I don’t intend to,” you reply shortly. 
“Why? You’re protecting him?”
“I’m not!” Your blood boils at the accusation, your free hand in a tight fist on your side. “I just want to forget all about it. Nothing actually happened. He…he didn’t manage to do anything before you came in.”
“I see,” he replies softly. “Are you okay?”
You want to tell him yes, of course you are, nothing happened, right? You should be okay, you should be fine because you were luckier than his other victims, people you worked with and who you were completely oblivious to the suffering they were going through right under your nose. You were so ignorant of what was happening around you that you had respected the man, and had even admired him as an amazing boss. How many times have you gushed about the man? How many of those times had it been to a victim?
Fuck. 
Before you even realise it, the tears are already spilling, big, fat pearls crawling down your cheeks. You don’t manage to say anything when Jimin says, “I’m coming over,” and the line cuts. You’re not sure how long you remain on the floor crying, hugging your legs close to you when there’s a loud knock on your door. You can’t seem to get up, the few steps to the entrance area seem too much for you. 
You hear some shuffling around outside, hear the person lift up a flower pot and retrieve the spare key you hid there. You hear the sound of the key in the lock and doorknob turning. You see Jimin standing in the doorway, his eyes easily zoning in on you huddled on the kitchen floor. You watch as he strides over and picks you up so effortlessly and carries you to the sofa. He places you down gently and goes back to the kitchen. Ten minutes later, he’s back with a cup of tea for you.
He makes you drink it, sitting next to you without saying anything much, letting you cry it out. He remains quiet even when you’re hiccuping through leftover sobs, sitting there leaning on his knees, his fingers locked together, staring down at the floor. He only finally looks up when you make no more sound except for the occasional sniffles. “Better?”
You nod, taking a tissue to blow your nose. 
“Hungry?”
You shake your head but your stomach betrays you, sounding out like a dying whale at sea. He smiles softly, pulling out his phone. “Does Thai sound good to you?”
This time, you nod happily, eyelashes still glistening with tears.
You both only start to talk after dinner is finished and pushed aside, when Jimin, his coat jacket off and his shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbow, had offered to do the dishes. You stand next to him to do the drying, making small talk, exchanging little information about each other’s lives. 
“You’re from Busan?” your eyebrows go up in surprise. “I’m from there, too.”
“I know,” he replies. “I read all the staff’s profiles.”
“I see.”
“Have you been back?”
You shake your head. “Not really. There’s nothing left for me there. My mum has remarried and the only family I have left are actually here.”
“Oh?”
You smile. “Yeah. Well, we’re not related by blood but I practically grew up with them.”
You don’t see it but Jimin’s eyes flash dangerously. “Really?”
“Yeah,” you say, “the guy you saw in the picture? That’s Taehyung. Him and his brothers are like brothers to me. Growing up with a single parent is hard and I was always stuck with them when she had to go to work. And she worked a lot.”
“So just them then? No one else?”
You tilt your head, thinking. “No, I don’t think so. Just them.” When Jimin doesn’t respond, you ask, “What about you? Any families around here?”
“Just one,” he says, eyes on his hands washing the forks and spoons. “We grew up together. I was always the one she runs to when she has problems and I make them go away.”
“Oh. That’s interesting.” You take the fork from him, drying it in between your fingers. “What’s she like?”
“Clingy and a crybaby.” He chuckles softly. “But I love that about her. I love being needed and I know she needs me.”
“She lives with you?”
“Not yet.” Jimin finishes the washing and dries his hands. “If you’re feeling better, I should get going. But…”
“But?” you look up at him.
“I know it’s weird timing but,” he pauses, scratching the back of his neck. “Would you, um, want to grab lunch tomorrow? Or not, if you don’t want to.”
You’re not sure about going on a date with him for two reasons: one, he’s your boss and two, well, with the whole shitshow happening at the office, it’s hardly a good time for a date. 
“Um, sure. I guess,” you answer, feeling a little shy. “If it’s just lunch.”
Jimin’s lips twitch upward. “Sure. I’ll pick you up around noon?”
- - -
That lunch turned out to be more than just lunch.
Jimin is funny and makes you laugh with his deadpan jokes and ridiculous punchlines. Underneath that cold and aloof demeanour, he’s actually sweet and caring. He plans things, takes you out on surprise dates, cooks meals for you and even gives you little gifts on random days, things that made him think of you. He makes playlists for you and even one of those classic mixtapes on CDs when he finds out your car has a CD player. He gathers small bunches of daisies when he finds out you love them more than roses. He surprises you with little things like your favourite tea or your favourite snack and takes candid photos of you to share with you later at the end of the day.
On days when you are watching movies together at your place, he would rub your feet and make cups of tea for you. He would listen to you vent or tell stories about your day. He’s your biggest cheerleader with work, walking that thin line between being a fair boss and a good friend and flourishing at it. When the relationship passed three months, you both decided to report it to HR. You were moved to a different department but you both go out for lunch together almost everyday.
You are completely and madly in love, for the first time ever at twenty-seven. He’s everything you ever wanted, everything you ever dreamed of even as a young girl. He sweeps you off your feet and makes you feel the most comfortable. He respects your wish of waiting a little bit more the night he sleeps over that first time, ending up just cuddling the whole night. He doesn’t complain, doesn’t make you feel guilty about it. You do a lot of the other things, kissing and going even as far as third base and not once did he ever try to push your limit.
 By the time you hit six months, he surprises you with a promise ring and you think it’s time to introduce him to Taehyung and the others. 
“What’s his name again?” Taehyung asks over the phone as you get ready for the meeting tonight. Both Namjoon and Jin will also be there, excited to meet your first serious boyfriend.
“Jimin,” you quip, the phone pinned in between your shoulder and ear, hopping on one foot to pull up the stocking over your knees. 
“What?” Taehyung’s voice comes out a little too loud, a little too panicky. 
“I said, his name is Jimin,” you repeat. “Look, I got to finish getting ready. You can ask all the questions later at the restaurant, Tae. I’ll see you guys there.”
“You ready, babe?” Jimin’s head pops in.
“Yes,” you answer, getting your handbag and slinging it over your shoulder. “I’m a little nervous. It’s the first time I’m bringing a boyfriend to meet them.”
Jimin laughs, pulling you by the waist. “Wait, you’ve never introduced anyone before me?”
You shake your head, pouting. “No. Nothing ever lasted long enough for me to do that.”
“I see.” Jimin twirls you around. “I’m honoured.” He gives you a little bow and you giggle. “Don’t worry, love. I’ll be on my best behaviour tonight. I promise.”
***
“This is Taehyung, Namjoon, and Jin.”
“Jimin, my brothers.”
The four of them exchange handshakes all around before finally sitting down, Jimin pulling out your chair, of course. The dinner starts with small talk, mainly the brothers asking you and Jimin the typical questions: how did you two meet? How did you guys get together? How did the company react to the news of the relationship? 
When the main course arrives, Namjoon switches gears by focusing the questions on only Jimin, asking his background, interests and his work. Jin adds in here and there but Taehyung remains quiet the whole time. He would stare intently at Jimin, frown and then look away. He would give you the same look, too, but he’s sitting too far away to actually ask you anything quietly. 
During dessert, Jin stares at Jimin for long enough that the other man notices. “Do I have something on my face?”
Jin shakes his head. “No. You just look familiar.”
“I don’t think we’ve met before,” Jimin chuckles. 
“Yeah, but I can’t shake this feeling off like I’ve seen you somewhere.” Jin tilts his head, narrowing his eyes. “Hmm. I wonder where.”
“Me, too, hyung,” pipes in Taehyung, surprising you slightly since he’s been quiet this whole time. “The name, too. I’ve heard it somewhere.”
Jimin smiles politely. “My name is very common, especially for girls, actually.” He gives a lighthearted laugh, squeezing your hand under the table, a signal for you to say something. 
“So, how long will you be in town, Jin?” you ask, diverting the group’s attention and it was enough to move away from the topic of Jimin. The rest of the night goes well and the both of you arrive at your place giddy with happiness.
Jimin heaves a relief sigh. “Well, I guess that went well.”
You beam up at him, both hands in his as you stop in front of the front door. “I think it did.”
He nods, gazing lovingly into your eyes. He pecks a kiss on the tip of your nose and you scrunch it up, giggling at him. He pecks another kiss to your forehead and you lean into him. Your heart is beating a little bit faster than usual, both nervous and excited for what’s to come next, what you will ask him for. You know he won’t, but you will. You think it’s time.
“Jimin,” you call him softly and he catches your lips in between his. You moan into him, feeling yourself melting into his front, his arms strong around your waist. He feels safe, like home. 
“Sorry, I couldn’t help it,” he murmurs against your lips. “What was it you wanted to say, hm?”
“Well,” you say, suddenly shy, suddenly looking down at both of yours and his feet but you steel yourself and put on a brave front. He’s been so patient for you, you can do this for him. “Do you want to go inside for a cup of tea?”
Jimin smiles, his eyes giving you a knowing look. “I would love that.”
Inside, he insists on making the tea, telling you that he knows how to make it just the way you like it. You both sip the tea in silence at the kitchen island, exchanging glances over the rim of your cups like some kind of young teenagers flirting across the hall when you’re only sitting opposite each other. His eyes turn into little half-moons and you know he’s smiling behind the cup, the butterflies in your stomach kicking up a storm. Oh, you are very much in love and for a person at your age to feel like this for the first time, you think it was worth the wait. 
You both finish the tea and you take the cups and saucers to the sink. You can feel yourself vibrating with nerves, your hands shaking a little making the cups rattle against the saucers. You place them in the sink and wonder about how to go about it. Do you outrightly ask him? Do you bring him up to the bedroom without saying anything? Do you invite him as a heads up? Ugh, how come there’s no manual for these things.
Your hand reaches for the faucet but Jimin’s hand catches your arm and you feel him press up behind you, warm and strong. With his other hand, he gently pulls back your hair from your shoulder and pins a kiss at the spot where your neck meets your shoulder. “Leave it, my sweetness,” he says into your ear. “We’ll think about the dishes later, why don’t we?”
You hum in response, closing your eyes and leaning your head back onto him, letting him kiss up your neck. You turn yourself around, placing your hands on his chest, feeling the gentle rhythm of his heartbeat against your fingers. You look up at him through your lashes, heart in your throat, shaking so bad from…you’re not sure which, excitement or anxiety. He seems to know what you wanted to say by the small smile on his lips but he’s letting you take the lead.
“Do you…” you trail off, not even sure what to ask. You try again, your voice barely above a whisper. “Do you want to head upstairs?”
Jimin’s smiles widen. “Only if you take me there.”
A strong sudden urge to kiss him overwhelms you and you crash your lips onto his, roughly, desperately, wanting nothing more than to taste him more than you ever had. Your hands go everywhere; around his waist, around his neck, his chest, his arms while he holds you steady, moving backwards and somewhat blindly out of the kitchen with the two of you connected at the lips. When you pull apart to breathe, you’re already in the middle of your bedroom. Wow, that was fast. When did we climb up the stairs?
The bed is right behind you. Jimin leans his forehead against yours. “Are you sure about this?”
Your heart flutters, the anxiety now pushed aside by the anticipation building up from a place you’ve never truly explored. You nod your head once, breathing hard, your fingers fidgeting with a button on his shirt. Gently, ever so gently, Jimin lowers you to the bed, you in between his legs. You continue to make out, suddenly so very hungry for him, catching his tongue with yours everytime it slips in. 
You undress him, plucking at one button at a time, your fingers clumsy. He does the same for your dress, pulling it off little by little until you’re in nothing but your underwear and him with his chest bare. 
Jimin takes you in, nose flaring at the sight of you. You feel yourself shrink, making yourself smaller because no other man has ever seen you like this before. It’s daunting. Exciting, but scary. 
Jimin buries his face in your neck, his hands gently caressing your bra strap and then your side. “White lace,” he breathes. “Did you put these on especially for me?”
You don’t answer, feeling the blood rushing to your cheeks. And other places. Jimin pulls back, sitting on his knees, looking down at you, raking his eyes from your head down to your toes. There’s a glint in his eyes that you can’t quite read but it makes you shiver. “You know,” Jimin says, eyes locked on yours, “some people say you wear white for your first time.” He chuckles, coming back down for your lips.
“I know,” you mumble. Jimin pauses to look at you, one eyebrow raised. “Because it is. My first time,” you say bashfully. “I…I hope that’s okay. For you.”
Jimin’s lips twitch upwards and you see a sort of change in his eyes. But it’s dark so you’re not sure. “Of course, my sweetness. Don’t you worry. I’ll take good care of you.”
The words sounded odd to your ears, a little too commanding, a little too smug. But the moment Jimin’s lips are back on yours, his hands roaming your body, touching in places no one has ever touched before, your head goes completely blank except for thoughts of him, of Jimin, your lover, the one you’re finally sure of surrendering yourself fully; mind, body and soul. 
You’re lost in the throes of heated passion, unaware that downstairs, inside your handbag where you left on the kitchen island, your phone is ringing for the third time in a row. Taehyung’s face is flashing across the screen because back at his place not thirty minutes away, while he lays across the sofa, wracking his brains about where Jimin seems awfully familiar, he had to scroll through his phone gallery. It had taken some time, going back years of pictures until he finally found it: the last photo of you standing in your childhood bedroom, leaving for the last time.
There in the background, placed on its side, is the forty by thirty painting of your imaginary friend, a blue ribbon tacked on one corner.
- - -
The room is filled with your loud moans, unable and probably don’t even care to keep your voice down because, fuck, his tongue feels so goddamn good. 
You fist the sheets on either side of you, legs spread open by Jimin’s hands on your thighs, keeping them from closing around his head. He has two fingers in your cunt, pumping hard, in time with the flick of his tongue against your very swollen clit. You can hear how wet you are by the sloshing sound his fingers make and that alone is arousing to you. You alternate between moaning with your mouth clamped shut but when it gets too much, your mouth will fall open and the room echoes your voice back at you. 
Jimin’s fingers feel so good, enough to make you feel full. In the back of your mind, you’re a little worried about when he finally enters you. How much would that hurt? He clamps down your clit and all thoughts escape through your ears, desperate to clamp your thighs shut but unable to. 
With his fingers still jammed inside you, Jimin crawls up, trailing wet kisses up your torso and then letting you taste yourself on his tongue. “So sweet for me,” he coos, licking his lips. He curls his fingers upward, feeling your walls squeezing his digits. “And so tight.”
You mewl, squirming under him. You fumble for his fly, pulling the zipper down and hooking your fingers around the waistband of his pants, along with his boxers. He helps you pull them off of him, wiggling himself to let the materials fall loosely to his ankles. You sit up on your elbows and Jimin brings his hip to your face. Your eyes bulge at the sight of him; thick and long, precum leaking from the tip, sticking straight against his stomach. 
“Open your mouth, sweetness,” he says, guiding your head with the back of his hand, sliding himself onto your tongue, hissing at the contact. “There you go, just like that. That’s a good girl.”
You place your hands on his thighs for support, eager to please. You may be a virgin but oral sex is something you enjoy giving. You start slow, teasing him with your tongue against his tip and only focusing on the head, sucking on it like your favourite lollipop. Jimin watches you through hooded eyes, hands on your shoulders. He lets out a muffled grunt as you flick your tongue against his frenulum, feeling the way his cock jumps from the pleasure. 
You push yourself down his length, slowly, gauging how much you can take him without gagging. Adjusted, you start to bob your head. Jimin holds your head, both guiding and sometimes pushing your face as low as possible before you start to protest, gagging and slobbering all over his length. You can’t see it but he’s grinning ear to ear. 
When he’s had enough, he pulls you up to kiss you, noticing how red your cheeks are, how your eyes see only him, and how your body is reacting to him. He gently pushes you down to the mattress, one hand behind your head. He leans backward to look at you. “How are you feeling?” he whispers against your lips. 
“Good,” you whisper back, squirming under him, arms around his waist. “I want you, Jimin.”
He smirks but in your haze, you barely recognise it for what it is. “I know. I’ve been wanting you, too. For a long time.”
You nod, thinking that he had meant these past six months. You’re clawing at him, lightly scratching at his skin as he kisses your face, lowering himself down onto you. You’re so sensitive that at the touch of his pubic bone against yours, you gasp. 
“Shh,” he says gently, thumb rubbing your temple. “Look at you. You’re shivering, baby. It’s okay. Relax. I’ll take good care of you.”
Something about his smile sends a shiver down your spine and instead of feeling comforted, panic bells have started ringing in the distance. Your heart rate spikes and suddenly you’re having second thoughts. You quell them down, fighting against yourself to backtrack now. No, he’s been patient enough. He deserves it. He’s the love of my life, there’s nothing to be afraid of. It’s just nerves. Relax. Calm down. I want this. I want this. Right? You breathe slowly, nodding into his hand, desperate to find the solace you always feel when in Jimin’s presence. Where is it now?
“Jimin,” you squeak as he positions himself in between your legs, his fingers digging into the meat of your thighs, massaging lightly as he presses your legs apart. You raise your head to look at him and in the dim light, Jimin’s eyes are so dark they’re like abysses as he looks back at you, a soft smile on his lips. 
You feel him pressing against your hole and slowly pushes in. It stings and you throw your head back, eyes squeezed shut. Jimin stretches you out and it burns so much it feels like you are being torn open from the inside out and yet…yet it feels so excruciatingly delicious. All these years of holding back, of never finding the right person to give yourself fully to, and Jimin feels both like a reward and a punishment, like it’s both wrong and coming home at the same time your brain is going fuzzy. You feel him bottom out but the pain isn’t going away and at the same time a tingle is starting from somewhere deep within you. 
Jimin remains unmoving, letting you adjust. The burning dulls a little bit but a fire has been lit up in the pit of your stomach. You wrap your legs around Jimin’s waist, pulling him close. You blink your eyes open and gasp. You blink a few more times but the sight that greets you never changes. Everything is dark. There’s nothing. You see nothing.
You look down towards where Jimin is in a panic but finds him grinning at you in a way that doesn't feel friendly. He starts laughing. 
“Finally!” he exclaims, running a hand through his hair, pushing his hair back. “Years of waiting and it finally pays off. Patience is a virtue.” 
“Wh- what’s going on?” your voice is shaking. “I don’t understand. What are you saying? What’s happening?”
Jimin leans down, arms on both sides of your head. His eyes are like two coals staring straight into your wet ones. “Oh, my sweetness. I let you have a little bit of freedom and you forget about me. But don’t worry. We’ll have all night to catch up.” He kisses you and your lips burn, moaning into him but he doesn’t relent. You feel his tongue licking inside your mouth and your eyes shoot open in alarm at the realisation that it’s a forked tongue. Just like that, the box of suppressed memories springs open and it all comes flooding in.
Pulling back, the same smug grin still on his face, Jimin whispers close to your face, “Do you remember now?”
Your eyes are like two saucers, staring back at him in horror. “No,” you shake your head, the tears creeping slowly down into your hairline. “No.”
Jimin’s lips spread wider. “Oh, yes, my sweetness.” He pulls out of you and starts to gently rock back and forth, ignoring your silent cries. The faster he moves, the more your body reacts, so much so that you pause in between the tears, confused. Your heart rejects him yet your body yearns for him, needs him to keep moving or you might wither away and die if he doesn’t. Your fists tightens around his upper arms, both in anger at the long deception as well as the desperation to let him know that you want more; more of him and more of what he can give. 
It doesn’t take much for Jimin to get the message, the latter one, the grin only growing bigger, the satisfaction palpable even in his two obsidian eyes. He leans down to your face, fingers softly combing back your hair. “I know you’re angry at me, baby, but you can’t deny me either. You’ve promised me yourself.” He kisses your cheek and the spot feels like your skin might melt away. “I’ve only come to collect what’s mine. Heart, body and soul. Well, maybe not the heart. Not yet anyway. But all in due time, my sweetness. I’m a very patient man.”
“You’re not a man,” you gasp in between strokes, biting down on your lip to keep yourself from letting him know how good he’s making you feel. You can feel the girth of him, the length of him every time he buries deep, can feel the delicious stretch of your walls hugging him. Jimin only laughs, a deep rumbling that vibrates straight to your core and with that, you release your lip to let Jimin hear you. 
- - -
When Taehyung arrived at your place at three in the morning, out of breath from cycling like hell, he was already too late. 
The house was empty, void of anything that ever proved that you lived there; no clothes, no photos on the wall, no shoes and definitely no you. Only furniture left behind and food abandoned in the fridge. The police insisted that you must have run away with your lover and your workplace had no clue who Taehyung was talking about when he mentioned Park Jimin, looking at him like he had lost his mind.
“She quit,” the receptionist told him with an incredulous look, turning the PC monitor his way. “See? She sent this email talking about finding something new. It’s all a bit sudden and the boss is pissed. If you hear from her, tell her never to come around here unless she wants her head on a platter. Personally, for me though, I think she got balls of steel. You go, girl.” 
Namjoon told him to quit worrying, that you’re an adult that can make your own life choices and take care of yourself. Jin just laughed when Taehyung showed him the photo of the painting from long ago, shaking his head and telling him he needs to get his eyes checked. Neither of them had any recollection of that dinner with Jimin. Except for him. 
It took him six months to finally calm down enough for his brothers to stop worrying that he might need some serious intervention in the form of hospitalisation. He spent his days at work, pretending to be fine while at night he scoured the internet and the dark web for any signs of you, barely sleeping, one wall of the spare bedroom at his place covered with any clues and hints and circled maps of places he’s searched in. 
- - -
On the other side of the veil, you watch your childhood best friend struggle to find you to death, sitting next to Jimin on the throne, your hand in his as his underlings worship his feet. 
As the dark lord of the underworld, Jimin lavishes you with anything and everything your heart desires, loves you like no man ever could and satisfies you every night like gods themselves are pounding into you. You smile when he kisses you, look demurely as he holds you and pulls him closer each night under the cover. 
You see Jimin in all his underworld glory; a king with a black heart, tattered black wings that spans six feet on either side when he’s enraged, eyes like the abyss when he’s staring deep into your claimed soul. You’re his; mind, body and soul, as promised. 
And yet…
Each night, you realise you’re getting better and better at slipping away without him noticing, coming back into the human world, into Taehyung’s spare room with the maze of threads all over one wall. You’re getting good at moving small objects, like a pen or a pencil. And even that marker Taehyung uses to circle cut up articles and places on the map. 
One day, you’ll be able to send him an SOS, a message for him to help you cut yourself free. But in the meantime, you’ll sit quietly in Jimin’s arms, pretending like you hate where you are, pretending like you’re not in love. 
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thvlouvre · 9 months
Text
[One-shot]
Little Mouse — Park Jimin (Part 2)
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✔︎ Summary: the principal's son, the reason why you can't enjoy school and the reason why you can't leave it finds out you're having a date with somebody that isn't him. ✔︎ Word Count: 8.1k ✔︎ Trope: Bully Yandere Jimin x Chubby brazilian oc, enemies to lovers (?), smut ✔︎ Warnings: evil teenagers once again, slut shaming:(, dub con (hello lord, it's me again), primal sex, forced and unconsented voyeurism, oral sx (m&f receiving), vginal fingering, orgsm denial, exhibitionism, public sx, dirty talk, soft role play, pet calling, switch roles (both are sub&dom), humiliation kink, degradation, praise, penetration, supplication, delusional behaviour, jealousy, possessive over-protective jimin, and I think that's it... oopsi. ✔︎ thvlouvre's note: let's pretend this didn't took me YEEAARRRS to finish, but I'm finally happy with it, I swear I wrote like ten different versions of it until this one beat the others, I still feel insecure with my smut scenarios, and this part 2 is basically jimin and y/n being hrny rabbits and y/n getting revenge... anyways, enjoyyy 💋 ✔︎ Songs: i was never there by the weeknd. love is a bitch by two feet. ✔︎ LITTLE MOUSE PART 1 | MASTERLIST.
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“Don’t hurt him.” Was the first thing that came out of your mouth.
“I won’t” he leaned closer to your lips  “I won’t, unless you don’t do something for me” his lowered chest voice was velvety against your ear skin “Met me at the lab at four, don’t be late little mouse.”
Jimin knew exactly what he was doing, he had everything planned. At the end of all, he was a man that always got what he wanted, and he had never wanted anything more than he wanted you. There was this feeling inside his chest, something fiery and energetic burning inside his chest that sparked every time he saw you, something he had never felt before. It was filled with need and angst, but he wouldn’t describe it as love.
Against the common believes, Jimin did knew how love felt like, he had loved people in his life, and he knows love is a pleasing sensation to have. He loved his mother as long as she allowed him to love her, until she went away from him and his father. He loved his father until he realized his dad saw in him the remembrances of the faded love he used to have with his mother, and took all that resentment out with his son. He loved school, and the feeling of being the best at something, being the first of the class would always made him smile, until classes got easy and teachers were boring.
Jimin loved many thing in his life, but the one thing he loved the most was pain.
He adored giving pain to others, being the cause of somebody’s suffering and fear, being dominant and in control of the people’s shivering minds. So he knew very well that whatever he was feeling for you, it wasn’t love. Because he did have this need for seeing you suffer, and with tears in your eyes, but he also wanted the tears to be from pleasure.
Maybe it was just that he liked you; he liked you and the shape of your body. And your well-mannered being. And because he liked you he wanted you as his personal sex toy, his human stress ball. Or so, that’s what he thought.
Inside his limited mind, he didn't realize he actually loved the idea of you giving him pain. Like he didn’t enjoy to its fullest to hurt you, he didn’t love you. The possibility of the object of his deepest desires giving him the sensation he loved the most was blocked. It should always be him the one giving it, the one contemplating the other suffering, not the other way around, right?
When you arrived to the lab, the preoccupation overshadowed your face. Your pretty eyes were frowned and your smile was no way to be seen, but your posture, the way your back hunches gave him hope, as if you were already digesting the fact that he owned you and that he will win this battle. You looked defeated and he loved it. 
Damn, he was loving too many things lately. He was saying that word too often.
You dropped your backpack, the tiredness drifting in your face.
“Okay, speak Jimin” you started, you made your mind and decided that whatever he wanted from you he would get it, if that meant you could be free from him and get sweet Tete away from his filthy hands. “What do you want me to do? Spill it.”
“Wow, not even a ‘good afternoon, Jimin, how has been your day’ or something?”
“What is it?” you insisted not hearing his mocks.
He walked around you, scanning your thick waist and virtues and wondering how could you not know what was it what he wanted. There were two options; you were stupid to not see what you did to him or you ignoring how he felt about you. He hoped you were just stupid.
“It’s a couple of things that you need to do” he murmured, cherishing himself with the freedom of stare at your back and your ass.
“What is it?” you started to feel uncomfortable, but not the type of uncomfortable that made you feel sick when someone checked you out shamelessly, it was the type of comfortless that made  your heartbeat raise and your skin sweat.
“First, I want you to stop seeing Taehyung” He demanded, remembering how he stared at the two kissing on the coffee shop. He remembered how much he wanted to be Taehyung, him, Park Jimin wanting to be somebody else.
“But I don’t want to stop seeing Taehyung, he’s my frien”- you replied, worried because you knew that inside Jimin’s madness, there was no chance you could make him forget about your new friend and don’t hurt him.
“He’s nothing” he said, his eyes connecting with yours when he finally stopped walking around you  “I am the only thing you should be concerned about, me. I am the one who tells what you do, what to feel, what to think and I want you to stop seeing him, if you don’t I will hurt him” he cupped your face with both of his hands your height difference hitting high when he made both of your noses touch by the tips and his breath collided with your skin.
“Do you understand?”
“No.” you still found strength to talk back.
“You don’t?” he arched a brow, smiling cause he found your audacity funny.
“I said I don’t understand.” You smiled back, because you knew what you were going to say will piss him horribly “I don’t understand why would you care so much about someone you find disgusting” you spitted in between teeth, standing on your tippy toes to reach him “I won’t stop seeing Taehy-“
He crashed his lips together with yours because if he hears that damned name coming out of your mouth once again instead of his he would commit homicide. You tried to fight him, you tried to remove his hands away from your cheeks but the harder you tried the stronger he held you.
He set your mouth free with a loud ‘pop’ after sucking your upper lip harshly, a thread of saliva connecting the faded kiss and he couldn’t resist the idea of licking it. So, he brings your face closer and his tongue licked your lips clean. He did it nice and slow, as if he truly enjoyed the taste of your mouth and for a wrong and very questionable reason, you found that… attractive?
“Whether you think you have a choice on that or not, you will not see him again.” And he walked with you to the teacher’s desk, pushing your ass to bounce back against the desk’s line so your pelvis would match his crotch.
“Whatever it takes, uh? I haven’t forgotten that” he spread your legs wide open and placed himself in between them, your hands leaning against the wood because the strength of his upper body was so aggressive you could fall off the table if you didn’t hold to something.
“Jimin what are you doing? I don’t want to do this, I don’t even like you” you tried to fight a little, to make your resistance seemed a little less weak, to appear like a woman who could fight against her needs, even if in that moment you were just a febrile little horny girl.
Maybe it was Jimin’s perfume, the mint and the cigarettes smell that flooded your senses as soon as he came closer to you, the delicious mix that made your mouth salivate and your eyes close wanting to sink in his sweat and swim in his essence forever. Maybe it was his raspy and firm hands that were running up and down all over your body; on your back that was arched pushing out your clothed tits against his chest, his finger tracing the line of your column and squeezing your thighs under the uniform skirt.
Maybe it was just him, and the white line above his upper lips you lowkey always wanted to kiss, in your imagination you thought they tasted like white chocolate, smooth as candy. Whatever it was, it was enough of it to make you feel adored and wanted. Your knees were shaking and your lips were looking for his, but he nailed his head in the space were your neck met your shoulders and he started to sniff loudly.
“What are you doing there?” you asked, holding him by his nape with your right hand.
“Smelling.” And he inhaled again, and in that moment you understood that it wasn’t his smell, nor his hands or lips; it was the way he was sniffing your collarbone line as if it was a line of coke, sucking your perfume so desperately like a drug addict that has been deprived of its poison for years. You didn’t know what was in the air that day, that had you acting so out of yourself, so hot and needy but the only thing you could do was to open your legs wider to him and hold him stronger.
When you let your head back down to enjoy the sensation of his nose tickling you in your neck, he grabbed your head and made you watch him.
“Stand.” He commanded. Grabbing you by the soft flesh of your hips, his fingers tangling around the elastic of your underwear. You followed him, your ass cheeks were burning red from the blood accumulation of been sited on the desk so harshly. Your pink underwear was on display for him, your skirt rolled up around your waist where he had tucked it in for better access.
He kissed you again, seductive and slow and with every move of his tongue and his lips you could feel a border been torn down, melting in his arms.
Without breaking the kiss, he took off his jacket and untied his tie. He untucked his uniform shirt and looked at you when he noticed you haven’t taken off anything. He guessed you were the type that liked to follow orders in bed.
“Take off your jacket.”
“No” you laughed and by this point, even if he could tell you were willing and aroused, you had something for denying him things. He smiled because you were giving him reasons to punish you.
“When I tell you to take off your jacket, you take off your jacket” he grabbed your jacket and teared it apart, throwing it to the floor. “When I tell you to open your shirt, you open your shirt” he ripped the buttons of your white shirt, making them fall apart; your pink bra displaying to him. He closed his eyes and licked his lips when he got to see the fullness of your breast up close. “And when I tell you to undo my belt and suck my dick, you go down and suck my dick” he pushed by your shoulders, and made you fall with his erection in your face.
You were insecure, because you have done this once or twice, but not under these circumstances. Not with someone that has been tormenting you during months, not with someone that has been waiting every minute to see what you do wrong and mocked about it, but for some reason the idea of this, felt… cathartic. There was no lower point than this, and somehow you still found the strength to like it, you just needed to get over it and move on.
You unbuttoned his pants, and kissed his bulge above the boxer’s fabric, and just in case a little small part of you was still doubting if continuing with this madness, the whimpers and soft moans that came out of his mouth pushed you to lick it about his underwear.
“Shit, ___, you should see how hot you look with your tits out and you mouth in my cock”
You undressed his cock and took a deep breath, trying to convince yourself you were doing this because you wanted him to finally leave you alone, and not because you liked him, not because you wanted him.
Jimin on the other hand was ecstatic, he had finally broken you and his fantasies were you pleasing him on your knees and show your body to him were becoming real, the dreams of having you as his slave and finally giving you the ultimate dose of pain.
You sucked him just like he kissed you, nice and slow, taking your time because if you were going to do this you would make sure this was the best blow job this man ever get in his life, so the frustration of not having you again would torture him for the rest of his life and haunt him, even after you were on the other side of the world, back in your hometown.
Unfortunately, you were unaware of a third presence on the room. Standing outside the lab’s door, watching through the window was the shy and boring boy you were having your secret affair. You could not watch him because your back was facing the door, but Jimin could. After a long suck you gave him on the tip of his cock, he opened his eyes surprised and he could saw him.
Taehyung was standing astonished, sad, and disappointed, but still there was this lustful look in his eyes. He was hating the fact that he found the scene extremely seductive, you on your knees pleasuring him with your mouth, but it broke his heart it wasn’t him the one that was standing in front of you, in fact he was angry because it was no other than the scumbag of Park Jimin. How could you? After all the pain and the torments that man and his friends had caused you, you still allowed him to use you for his pleasure like a whore, why?
Taehyung’s feet were glued to the floor, because even if he didn’t want to look anymore, he couldn’t move. Jimin smiled victoriously, eyeing Taehyung through the door when he cupped your cheeks softly and said something Taehyung could not hear, but it might be something sweet because you responded physically with increasing the speed of your mouth and Jimin moaned, no, he shouted your name loud enough so Taehyung could hear in spite the door. Jimin had left a note on Taehyung’s locker that asked him to meet at the lab at 4. Jimin had tried to imitate your handwriting the best he could, but it was so feminine he didn’t think it would work. He guessed Taehyung was so stupid he didn’t notice the difference between your sweet lettering and his harsh handwriting.
“Faster baby, use your tongue I’m so close” he encouraged you, his thumbs caressing the skin of your jaw almost as if he was grateful this was happening. You on the other hand, knew you red lipstick was ruined and probably spread all over your face. Even his penis had red marks on its longitude, and he didn’t care, it was the hottest thing that had ever happened to him. Having sex on school with teachers on the hallways and somebody shamelessly watching the two of you.
“Show him, sweetie” he moaned but then he hurried to correct himself, even if you were so busy to pay attention “Show me how good you suck my dick clean, how much you want me” Jimin managed to say in between his suffocated moans and hearing that made you stop, and something clicked. You did not want him, you didn’t even like him, you wouldn’t even talk to the man outside school. Yes, the situation per se was exciting and erotic, but he was just part of the scenario.
You stood up, his dick bounced and cum drops spilled on the floor.
“What? What are you doing?” he asked breathlessly.
“Leaving.” You cleaned your mouth as much as you could and spitted the saliva to his designer shoes, before he could react and dress himself, you picked your backpack from the floor and stared to run forgetting about your jacket and your ripped shirt.
“What the fuck, ___? I haven’t come” he tried to grab you by you elbow but you were faster and you dodged it like a bullet. He hurried to get himself dressed again and pick both of your jackets, trying to collocate his erection back on his pants again but it wasn’t easy.
“I don’t care if you came or not, I don’t want you, I never will this was just me being angry” you run down the lab to the floor and opened the door running away from your stupid and horny decisions, just to find Taehyung on the hallway with tears in  his eyes and a disappointed look on his face.
“Taehyung…” you tried to speak but the words dried out on your throat and the thoughts stopped running in your mind, what could you do? Explain it to him? He saw it all apparently “Is not what you think it is, he- he forced me!” you tried to explain to him, but it came out wrongly. Taehyung arched his brown not believing you, because from what he saw you seemed more that willing to blow him.
“He coaxed me! You got to believe me!” you tried to come closer but Taehyung stepped back, looking at your ripped shirt and your breast. “Why would you let him do that? After all he had put you through.” His voice was so soft and calm, the sadness filtering in his words and just when you were about to tell him that Jimin threatened to hurt him the monster appeared in  the hallway behind you with both of your jackets on his left hand and his backpack on his shoulder.
“You forgot your jacket, little mouse” his mellow voice sounded from behind you, and you felt his arms surround you from your back in a hug. He buried his head in your neck and kissed it devotedly, adding more salt to Taehyung's wound.
“Ugh, get off me!” you push him aside and face him, knowing he had something to do with Taehyung knowing the two of you would be there. “It was you, wasn’t it? You told him to come!”
“Honey, I don’t know what you’re talking about” he played dumbed, his big eyes shone with innocence, and you felt disgusted, you couldn’t believe this was the same creature you were eating alive five minutes ago.  
When you turned around Taehyung was half the way to the door and leaving the building.
“Taehyung, don’t!” you run but Jimin catches you and pulled you closer to him. You started to cry, tears falling down your cheeks and even when Jimin was mad as fuck because he didn’t come in your mouth, he clean them and kissed your wet eyelids, hugging you. Jimin himself didn’t notice he was being tender with someone for the first time ever.
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Jimin stared at his room’s celling later that day. He was wearing just his boxers and he had been pleasuring himself for the last two hours, remembering how good your mouth felt around him. Just the memory of your pink 32D bra cups bouncing with every breath made him hard, three times in the evening.
He couldn’t stop thinking about the situation, and why he wasn’t furious with you for frustrating him. If it was another girl, he would have reacted aggressive and obnoxious, but he never stopped to think how would he react because with every girl he had been, he always prioritize his pleasure over theirs. Now you just not let him come undone, but you deny him and push him away after.
It was all so confusing, he thought he had finally breaked you and made you like him, when in fact you legit told him to his face you didn’t care if he came or not, you told him you didn’t want him. He knew he has been dick to you during the past months, and unconsciously he was the reason you were getting beat, but he thought that the sparkle he felt every time he saw was mutual. He was also surprised you still thought he found you disgusting, when it was the total opposite. He found you stunning, sensual and so bratty.
Ugh, what had he done?
The next days at  school became a battle for you as you tried to reach Taehyung and talk to him about Jimin’s extortion and how you wanted to protect him, but every time he saw you on the hallways he ran away in the other directions.
A week later, you started to notice people started to look at you differently, not with disgust or fear like they have before. They were looking at you morbidly, shamelessly. You could even hear them laugh and gossip after you walk pass them on the school’s hallways and the cafeteria.
“Did you hear her and Jimin are banging?” a female voice said not so discreetly.
“I don’t think so, maybe it was something she invented herself” a boy responded.
“I know, she’s not Jimin’s type, she’s out of shape”
“Besides, Jimin has Meeyon why would he pick her?”
You started to felt anxious, how did everybody knew about your shameful episode with Jimin on the lab? Maybe this was his ultimate prank on you, his ultimate humiliation. Maybe he recorded it and he was sharing it social media. You started to feel panicked, your tray with food shaking on the middle of the tables where you were looking for an empty space to sit and eat.
But the whole room went silent when a senior throwed your lunch to the floor and pulled you by your clothes with his closed fists, face too close to yours.
“Is it true Jimin is fucking you?” he asked shamelessly in front of everybody.
“What? No!”
“Taehyung is saying that” you felt your heart broke in a million pieces when the guy dropped the name of the one person who knew about the incident besides you and Jimin. “What? He did not say that-?”
“He is saying that, I guess I want a private session at the lab as well”
“Eww! Get off me, please” you started to push him, looking for someone to help you get away from him.
“I thought Jimin hated you, turns out he just wanted you to be his who-“
The guy couldn’t finish his sentence because a strong hand was grabbing him by the tie and tangling it around his neck, squeezing hard. Jimin throwed the idiot to the floor in four and pulled the tie up making him seemed like a dog.
“Careful with what you touch, asshole” he said and the whole cafeteria gasped with shock just like you did. Jimin placed his boot on the guy’s back and leaned his weight on him “Was he bothering you?” he asked making eye contact with you, his voice less aggressive, almost concerned when it came to you.
“Jimin leave him alone, he’s getting red” you said trying to see if the boy was breathing but Jimin put the tie higher, so it became tighter around his neck.
“It’s what he deserves, he called you a whore” Jimin started to roll the tie around his fist and pulled his neck closer to his ear so the human trash could hear him “Why do you care if someone is fucking her or not?” he whispered, even when everybody was silent just the poor idiot could hear him.
“Do you like her or what?” even when the boy could not answer Jimin took that for a ‘yes’ and he was pissed at that, how many people in that school wanted you? “I’m gonna take that as a yes, but you getting any near her it’s a no if you want to keep breathing”
Jimin saw the fear in your eyes and he understood why you didn’t like him back. You feared him, he just needed to show you his tender side and be careful with you, then you would want him. “Well, I guess I have to make you breath” Jimin dropped the tie and the guy untied it as fast as he could, coughing in relief and crawling.
“Apologize.” Jimin kicked him on the ribs and he cried in pain crawling away from you “I said apologize! Head on the floor, on your knees right now” Jimin lost his patience and threw him to the floor in front of you, placing his boot on the boy’s back once again to push his body down. “Lower, ask her for forgiveness”
“I’m so sorry” the guy shouted, his nose closed from all the crying “I’m very sorry, I shouldn’t have done that, I’m so so sorry” Jimin stared at you, waiting for your response. If you said you were okay with his mediocre apology he would let him go, if not, the miserable idiot would not leave the school walking.
“If you are not satisfied he will crawl all over the court yard until you are.” Something inside you got amused with that perspective, because it was always you the one been humiliated and mistreated, you wanted to see someone suffering for the first time. But if someone was going to crawl was Jimin himself.
“It’s okay, let him go” you whispered and Jimin grabbed him by the t-shirt and made him stand.
“Fucking go, just go!” Jimin pushed  him out, and he noticed how deadly silent the cafeteria was, all of the eyes staring at the two astonished “What the fuck you all are looking at? Mind your business” and with that, everybody acted like nothing happened, the noise returning and the food line moving forward again.
You let your food to the side and walk out the cafeteria, with Jimin following your fee.
“___! Where are you going sweetheart?” he grabbed you softly by one of your wrists and made you look at him, there was still this unhappy expression on your face he didn’t like. “What is it? You’re still pissed? I told you if you weren’t happy with his-“
“It’s not him that I am angry with!” you dropped your hand away from his, you didn’t know who you needed to hate that moment. Taehyung for spreading the rumors and made everyone obsessed with your sexual life, or Jimin who coaxed you and seduce you to have sex in a public space. “Have you heard what they’re saying?” you cried, breaking in front of him once more.
“About the rumors Taehyung is spreading? Yes, I have heard them.”
“Why would he do that?” you pressed your face in the palm of your hands trying to stop the tears.
“Because he is salty and jealous.” He answered, hands in his pockets.
“I need to get him back” you murmured to yourself, but Jimin heard it. His eyes widened furiously, oh how much he hated that idiot. Gladly, he took the advantage before you could do something stupid like coming back to that idiot’s arms. He made his father end Taehyung’s scholarship and made him go back to his old public high school.
“Oh, didn’t you hear’” his devilish tone was back again, his mellow tone he was lately using with you gone “Taehyung’s internship is over, he’s back at his old school.”
“Since when?” you asked incredibly sad and shocked .
“Yesterday, his last day here was yesterday” he tried to contain his grin but he was so happy Taehyung was out of your life, he could finally have you all for yourself.
“He didn’t even say goodbye.” You broke again and he hugged you, your wet eyes wetting his shirt but he couldn’t care, not in a moment where you were hugging him back and he caressed your hair tenderly to comfort you.
“Of course he didn’t, he was angry and immature, he didn’t deserve you” he whispered sweetly, poisoning your ear. Intoxicating your mind with his sweet whispers of consolation. He drove you home that day, the incident in the cafeteria and Taehyung’s betrayal left you drained.
The truth was that Taehyung's intershipe didn't end, Jimin spoke with his father and told him he was spreading fake rumors about the other interchange girl's reputation. Sexual rumors that involve him and the foreign girl.
"The brazilian?" his father spoke indiferent not even looking at his son's eyes, whatever that was displaying on his laptop being important. "Yes I remember her, many students complained about her sports uniform"
"Taehyung is harassing her, and because she didn't liked him back he's spreading fake rumors of her and I" his father sent him back to the old school with a misconduct record. Jimin on the other hand, had made the rumors himself, leaving an not so anonymous note in the school complaint box where he detailed the explosive moment between the two after classes inside the school instalations, signing as Taehyung.
Days went by, and somehow, Jimin became strangely attached to you, like a lapdog that seemed lost and helpless. He started to sit next to you during lunch, he would no longer steal from your food. One day he surprised you with a strawberry milk bottle.
“What’s this?” you asked annoyed.
“Strawberry milk.” He responded thinking to himself this had happened before.
“I know this is strawberry milk, what do you want me to do with it?”
“This is the first bottle of many I have to compensate, it was a long time of me acting like an idiot.” You were so helpless with everything that was happening, he took the chance to grab your hand with his and kiss it tenderly, to set the promise.
Three days after that, you opened your locker and found a bucket of red roses and a small gift bag with a handwritten note.
“I know I made you feel the total opposite, but you are the most exquisite woman  I’ve ever seen, I love the color red on you, but I love it more when you paint it on me. Yours, Jimin.”
You open the gift, and you saw three new lipstick for you. The same brand, same tone you would always use. Did he memorize the tone or did he checked your makeup bag? You were intrigued, because when he drove you home the other day after the cafeteria incident, he didn’t even ask you where you lived, he just drove while you were lost in your mind and when you least noticed he was parking in front of your building. 
The gifts and the public love affections kept coming. After the lab semi intercouse, Jimin started acting as if you were something, he started to act like a boyfriend. You were so shocked and confused by his behavior that you would literally ignore him, if he sat beside you in the library you would put your headphones on and focus on your homework. If he waited for you after classes to drive you home you would hurry up to the bus station and get on the first bus that took you far from there. 
The thing was that he was always there. For every time you would try to ignore him, he would remain stuck to your side like a puppy and people still noticed it. They were already making assumptions about you and him officially dating since Jimin had never, ever been like this with anybody. Not even Meeyon, who was his regular girl for a long time. 
The gifts didn’t stop coming as well. Everyday you would find something new hiding in your locker. Monday, he left you the lipsticks. Tuesday he left you a red pair of heels and a very explicit letter about how he imagined you wearing them. Wednesday he left you cherry earrings that were exactly just like the ones you would wear but those had embedded crystals. Thursday he left you red velvet cupcakes and expensive chocolates. Friday a red dress that was too tight and too short to be wear on a school event.
You didn’t understand him. You knew he wanted you, he craved you deeply, beyond his understatement and apparently he found you attractive in spite of all the time he humiliated you because of your body. If it was all about the desire, why would he be acting like a boyfriend with you? He already got to humiliate you one last time and making you blow him. 
Yes. You remember he didn’t finish, but still. Actually it would make more sense if he was furious with you, so angry he shouldn’t even care about you, but there he was, glued to you like a goddamn sticker. It was almost like a challenge for him, you felt, your rejection making him more persistent. 
You decided to end his suffering and yours, by giving him a note during history class. A pink post-it arrived to his seat that said ‘meet me after classes, same time, same place'. You could see his side profile smiling like a fool when he read it and he thought he was progressing with you. 
Your sentence came by the time the clock hit 4. 
But for a reason you didn’t feel any fear. Somehow, Jimin did not scared you anymore. You could finally see him for what he was, an infatuated boy who didn’t have the means or the sensibility to say he liked you, and because he couldn't he decided to bully you instead.
You wanted to play hard and dirty at least once like he did, and be heartless just like he has been with you. You found that funny and sad. Pathetic even. You wanted to give him wings and cut them off, you wanted to see him fall to the ground with his broken back and bleeding face asking mercy and not showing any of it. You were leaving very soon, it wasn’t like you would see him again. 
You decided to return to him every drop of evilness, but in a sweet envelope.
His sentence came by the time the clock hit 4. 
Jimin was surprised by how fast you arrived at the lab, you were already there when he was just entering by the door and closing it. But, unlike the other times he told you to come here, you were sat on the teacher’s desk, your legs crossed, and the uniform’s skirt spread a little too open for his little too thirsty view. 
“You came early, you can’t last a minute without me, can you?” he teased, taking a seat in front of you. 
“I should be the one saying that, rumors say you were sad during my inability period. Did you miss your little mouse? No one wanted to play with you?” you faked a pout, and the image of you pouting your lips and the words your little mouse coming out of it mixed made him hard. He gave a little snort on his seat incredulous, trying to control his erection and making it seemed like he wasn’t dying to have a piece of you. Again.
“I wasn’t sad. I was bored, making your life miserable was quite funny” he tried to replicate his usual sarcastic voice, but your mellow voice and the mocking shine on your lips made him nervous. You were never like this with him. 
“Whatever, why are you being so attentive with me? I didn't knew you were an expert on lipstick's tone” you rolled your eyes, quite enjoying the sight of him swallowing hard and starting to sweat. 
"I'm trying to change" he doubted a little before saying that, not wanting to appear weak and vulnerable, but his sight was too affected with the sight of your naughty hand caressing your thigh.
"Why would you change?" your innocent tone was a perfect imitation of his, and you were extremely familiarized with his voice at this point so you replicated it perfectly.
“I-I wanted to ask you out” he said firmly.
“And what makes you think I’m going out with you?” 
“Because I can hurt you.” he tried to sound intimidating like before, but you laughed. Jimin will not touch or hurt you again, first he will have to kneel and lick the tip of your shoes.
“That is not a reason, Jimin, that is a condition” you were starting to enjoyed yourself and the conversation, you were finding out that Jimin was a barely tolerable person when he was being polite “give me a good reason on why I should date you” 
“Because I’m rich” he spitted.
“I don’t care about money, I have money myself I don’t someone else’s cash” you contradicted him “Come one, give me another”
“Because I’m handsome”
“Yes, but not my type, you are a little noisy and I prefer them… quiet” you contradicted him again. 
“Because I’m powerful” he was losing his patience, his three mainstays were being wrecked down with your filthy mouth. 
“You are not powerful, your father is powerful, you are just another rich little boy hiding behind his daddy’s wallet” you laughed, and Jimin stood quickly, kicking the sit out and walking fast to you but you did not flinch. What else could he do? The worst things already happened to you in that damn school, there was no lower point so you will not leave without minimizing him once. 
“Shut up!” he shouted close to your face, and he noticed on your features the victory glow. You were happy because you were touching the right buttons, the ones that turned him to nothing.
“You know something, Jimin?” you cock your head to the side “I was wondering why you call me little mouse, why would you pick such a name for me? And then I got it, it’s because you are always chasing me, haunting me…” you took advantage of the proximity and looked down at his shirt, ad your eyes followed the seat trail down his abs. The white transparent fabric of it revealing his tanned skin underneath. 
“So, if I am the mouse, that makes you the cat. And, isn’t the cat always chasing the mouse because it is starving?” you looked back at him, and his jaw dropped when you looked at him with lust, you placed your right hand on his chest making him close his eyes in suffering “Aren’t you starving, Jimin? Don’t you wanna have a taste?” Your left hand dropped on his bulge and he panted, throwing his head back. 
“You’ve been a bad kitten…” you pulled him closer, grabbing his tie. 
Jimin opened his mouth ready to kiss you but the hand that was on his erection went up to cover his mouth. 
“Oh no, what makes you think you can kiss me? You don’t deserve my kisses” 
Jimin’s eyes were wet, but you didn’t if it was of excitement or desperation. Maybe both. His gaze was stuck on your lips, and his tongue started to lick his own, anticipating and remembering the taste of yours.
“Please.” 
“No.” you were turning your back from him, ready to leave him hot and suffering, 
but Jimin grabbed your wrist and repeated: “I said please.” 
“And I said no.” you tried to get off him, but his hand was strong on yours. 
Jimin couldn’t believe you had him by his balls. He almost believed you went you started to act all lustful and started to offer yourself to him, but two people could play this game and he wouldn’t let you leave that room without all his fantasies coming true.
“You are not going anywhere when I’m hard as fuck, you started this you will finish it” 
“Go with Meeyon, Jimin” you laughed bitterly on his face “Close your eyes and think of me” 
“So you know? How much I want you?” he started to kiss your neck aggressively and you melted when his hands touched your thighs devotedly, up and down. He couldn’t believe you knew about his desire for you and you let him suffer alone, for months. 
“You're not exactly discreet” you breathed heavily when he laid you down on the desk and started to unbutton your shirt, his finger rushing and running wobbly over the fabric. When he took the slacks off you and your tummy and breast appeared in front of you he moaned, your red lace bra and your smooth stomach skin being too much for him.
"Oh my god, ___" he moaned and leaned towards you, passing his face over your breasts and your abdomen with devotion, leaving wet kisses and quick licks here and there, rewarding himself with the salty taste of your skin.
"If you're gonna do it, do it right" you exhaled, your raspy voice commanding him beyond the excitement "Be a good kitten and take my clothes off, but first lock the door so no one can interrupt us"
Jimin followed your orders, running to the lab's door and closing it in seconds and coming back to you because he felt you could regret it and leave him turned on and alone.
He came back, knelt in front of your belly and with his fast hands took off the bra and started to kiss you again, sucking your nipples without breaking eye contact because watching you with your open legs, unbuttoned shirt and head back moaning and was the most mesmerizing thing he has ever watched.
"Uhg, Jimin-" you whispered, feeling yourself and the burning pleasure in your chest.
He he took advantage of the fact that you were so paralyzed by the pleasure in your breasts and began to slide down your red socks that reached your knees. He painfully separated his mouth off your tits and kissed each knee, his tongue and lips caressing your shins thirsty.
He felt himself burned, and he realized his clothes were intact. He undo his tie and took his uniform sweater, then his shirt and he was so concentrated on taking his clothes off fast that he didn't realize you had put your skirt up your panties to the side and your fingers were moving up and down your folds.
"___, wait for me honey" he begged taking down his pants and throwing his shirt to the floor.
"Meu gatinho está ansioso, uh?" your voice hot and raspy as cognac hit him like a truck after listen to you in your native language, the sensuality ablazing his ears "Muito gato"
"Yes! "he agreed to whatever you were saying, closing his eyes to enjoy the sound of it "Whatever you want, little mouse"
You slide down your panties, your skirt rolled up and tangled around your wait and the uniform shirt opened ready and aroused for him. Jimin had his pants on his ankles and shirt open as well, but he decided to cover your naked body with his, placing both of you in front the desk but his booty was the only one you could see if someone happen to watch through the door's window.
"Compensate me, Jimin" you said, extending your back down the desk and opening your legs without a glance of modesty for having your body so exposed.
"Yes, sweetheart, I'm gonna make it up to you" he leaned down his mouth getting closer to the cusp in between your legs, "I'm gonna make you feel so good" he sucked your clit and scattered small kisses, making you twist above the table.
"From this day to forever I'm gonna worship you" he licked the juices of your excitement that spilled down your inner thighs "Oh, shit ___, you taste like fucking strawberries" he should have known you would taste like the fucking red color at its sweetest version.
"Fuck me, Jimin, I want to come with you inside me, come on kitten" you mewl, lost in the lust and the hotness of the moment. Jimin hurried to take a condom out of his wallet and put it on himself, so fast he didn't realize you were laughing at him until he heard you.
"Look at you, so anxious to be inside me, so pathetic and compliant, who would have thought?" Jimin couldn't believe your words, but he was more surprised by how erotic he found the perspective of you being mean to him "Did the mouse get your tongue?" you asked again mocking at his picked name for you and how inaccurate it was from the reality in that moment "Hurry or I'm gonna leave"
"S-sorry" he hurried to his task of putting the condom on. He brought you closer to him on the desk and lifted your legs around his waist, accommodating his cock in your entrance. You both moaned in each other mouths when the tip of his dick touched your swollen clit.
He entered slow but steady, increasing the movements of his hips and burying his head in your neck.
"You're such a loser, Jimin" you whispered on his ear "This could have happened months ago if you weren't such an asshole" you tortured him, being intuitive of his kinks "All that money, that arrogance and that face of yours and for what? paired with that lame personality of course you would be scared of girls"
"I'm just scared of you" he confessed.
"Meu gatinho estava com medo de falar comigo?" you pouted your lips, faking comfort "My kitten was scared of talking to me?" you repeated so he could understand. He nodded concentrated in the rhythm of his ramming.
"Why so scared, kitten?"
"Because you're beautiful." he answered ashamed, as if it was obvious yet he tried to deny it for everybody. You knew you shouldn't care if he thought you were attractive, if you were his type or not, he has been hurting your self-esteem for months, but you couldn't contain your pleased expression when he called you beautiful.
"How beautiful?" you asked.
"Like a princess, a fucking princess of sex and cherries, you're so stunning I couldn't believe your body was real, it's god-gifted"
"Jimin!" You screamed, feeling your walls contract together closer, his cock feeling your insides squeezing against him.
"I'm so close"
"I'm close too, princess" he followed you, his erratic hip thrusts making the desk move underneath your ass, the screeches of metal against the floor being louder of what you expected; suddenly coming and finish was a necessity, you needed to get the heck out of that classroom before someone came to get you in trouble.
"I should have take you to my house, I bought red sheets just because they reminded me of you"
"You should buy a red taxi then for when leave to the airport, I'm going home soon" your sarcastic voice was something he was starting to adore.
"You're not going anywhere, and if you go I will follow you"
"You wouldn't last a day in my school" you moaned louder and higher, repeating his name while you felt yourself finishing. He followed you, your moans, his name in your lips, your sweat and the sensation of your pussy around him was too much for him to last two more seconds.
He kissed your neck devotedly, the valley of your breast and your jaw. Devotion and tenderness along side with sweet words of promises and accomplished dreams.
Little did he knew that below the water, you were ready to leave his country and his school that night. You had advanced the paperwork with the exchange office and requested your return before the scheduled date, you bought your airplane ticket and packed your apartment.
You just asked him to join you here because you wanted to give him a small taste of something he could never have again. He drove you home that day, and when he got out of the car he took a little gift box from his backpack.
"This is for you" he gave you the box, in front of your building's door "It's uhm- it's a ring that I had made for you" It was a white gold ring that had a heart shaped ruby stone embedded to it, it also had your name engraved on it. He took your delicate hand with his and put the ring in your middle finger, kissing your knuckles. You tried to ignore how tender and loving that kiss felt.
"I'll see you tomorrow" he said innocently, so unaware of your departure.
"I'll see you then" you smiled happily, kissing his cheek.
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✔︎ TAGLIST: @tae-v-eat @whipwhoops @bunnyca @itachiswaify @sheylamc @samuelfortniteking @rkivewritersblog @mred435 @kthyg @jiminiemochisexybabe @johanseongs @frieschan @sassyfoxunknown @leticiaesteveslp @darkuni63 @minshookie29 @4ukiyo4 @lovelyjmpark @hufflepuffwriter1995 @chimmy-licious @atharu100doceteme @popimagines @distinguisheddestiny @epihowl @enhypens-hoe (Sorry if I forgot anybody, hope this reach to you! 😭)
✔︎ thvlouvre's p.s. I know this is VERY open ended, but I was indecisive about having a part 3, or a small drabble to close their story, but it's up to you, tell me in the comments! As always, I will remain everyone that english is not my native language so please be kind with your feedback and stream Park Jimin 💋
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baeptae · 4 months
Text
BLOODSTAINED ROSES
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Pairing: yandere!pjm x reader
thg au!
wc: 1.1k
Warnings: violence, gambling, yandere behavior, gore, death, killing, strong language, I think that's it, but tell me if I missed anything!
THIS IS ALL FICTION!!
Summary: Being in District 2, you never thought you'd have to worry about being in the Hunger Games, on the day of the reaping, your name gets called, what will you do when no one volunteers?
A/N: This is my first work! It's also a sneak peak of the first chapter of a four chap series! English is not my native language, so I'm sorry for any mistakes. Another warning that this contains dark themes. Do not read if you are uncomfortable with the warnings that were previously mentioned
Your name was called.
Your name was called.
You can't breathe, the realization sinking in after you get called up onto the stage. You walk up the stairs, standing next to the escort of 2. She shoves her hand into the bowl for the male tribute after giving you a small smile and whispering a small and quiet 'Congratulations' to you. She pulls out the slip and carefully opens it, smiling as she announces the name written in dark ink.
"Lee Minho—"
"I volunteer as tribute."
A strong and confident voice echoes as a young man with black hair walks up on stage. Your escort asks him for his name as he stands proudly, even giving a small bow.
"Jeon Jungkook."
"The District 2 Tributes for the 77th Hunger Games, Jeon Jungkook and L/n Y/n! Give them a round of applause!" You shake hands, and the applause and cheering that follow make you feel sick to your stomach. You both get pulled back into the mayor's manor, and you recognize that this is the last time to see your family. You almost cry when you see your little brother, Dohyon, hugging him tightly as he begs you not to leave. You reassure him that you'll try to come back, giving a quick hug to your mother and father as they cry and apologize for everything. They're pulled out of the room, and after a few minutes, you are, too. You and Jungkook are escorted onto the train. You can't remember whether he tried to talk to you or not; you were too focused on keeping your feelings in check and trying not to break out into sobs to pay attention.
Your eyes are kept on the window, staring out, trying to forget about everything for just a minute, but of course, right when you start, the train stops. Your mentors tell you both to get up, leading you both off the train and right into the arms of your separate stylists, both of you getting taken to different rooms.
Your stylist, Axtis, kept going on about making you look and feel gorgeous and how he'd make sure you'd get sponsors. You zone him out while he trims and styles your hair. You wonder how your family is doing. You wonder if your little brother is crying to your mother and father about how unfair it is and asking them to please do something. Maybe your older sister is trying to console him. You saw the look on your father's face; there's no way he's in a good space right now, and your mother—you're interrupted by snapping. Directly in your face.
"Hello? Did you ever hear what I asked? God, I always get the disrespectful ones." Axtis complains. "Sorry, I was, uhm, just thinking about my family."
He shoots you a strange look with this. "Your family? I've never heard a career worry about not winning before." 
"Well, I'm not a career." You say quietly, kicking your legs back and forth while still sitting on the chair he plopped you down on fifteen minutes ago.
"Oh, you poor thing. No one volunteered?"
You stay quiet, trying to hide your tears as you let everything sink in. You're being sent to your death. That's all it is. You have no skill with any weapon. You're not flexible or fast. You can't climb, and your swimming skills are average at best. There's no way you're winning this, so why even have hope?
You look at the screen in front of you as it turns on, the replays of all of the reapings in front of you. You take in the information. Right now, it's District 1. The girl, Im Nayeon, is smiling and waving after she volunteers and steps onto the stage. The male tribute seems similar to yourself—a small-looking boy, maybe 15? He's clearly shaken up—not a career. You feel bad until you hear someone volunteer for him. The camera pans around to a young man, obviously dangerous with his terrifying calm expression. He strolls up to the stage, shaking hands with Nayeon before announcing his name.
"Park Jimin."
You stare, watching as the crowd of District 1 cheers for the two tributes, and the screen switches to your reaping. It shows you getting your name called, and you were very obviously shaken while walking up the stairs. You bite your lip as Axtis turns it off right when Jungkook volunteers and starts to put your outfit on. A gold breastplate with a golden leather skirt, gorgeous gold heels, and for the final touch, a gold helmet gets gently set on your head as Axtis starts to work on your makeup.
When he's finally done, you take a few minutes to admire yourself. Your mentors—Enobaria and Brutus—tell you to hurry up and get into the chariot for the tribute parade. You and Jungkook get in next to each other, and he tells you to calm down, smile, and wave.
You take his advice.
After District 1's chariot is out, you and Jungkook are next, getting rolled out as the crowd cheers and screams, throwing roses at you and Jungkook as you wave and smile, deciding to blow a few kisses, too.
Eventually, all the chariots are out as President Snow gives his speech. You feel eyes on you, and you look around, making direct eye contact with the boy from District 1. Jimin. You both stare at each other, not even blinking, until you get nudged by Jungkook, finally looking away. You can still feel his eyes on you; it makes you shiver.
After the speech, all of the tributes are brought back into the opening ceremony area. You can still feel Jimin's eyes on you, but you pretend not to notice. Your mentors notice and decide to move onto your floor. You and Jungkook each get your own bedroom. You walk towards the table decorated with food.
You and Jungkook sit next to each other as Enobaria tells you both to stock your bodies with food; there's never telling when you'll get more. She explains that you'll both go and train in the arena; she tells Jungkook to teach you how to do something so that you aren't completely useless; then, she sends you both to bed.
The next morning, you have a quick breakfast before heading down to the training arena, grabbing some knives, and throwing them at some targets. You hear someone come up behind you and you feel them correct your posture. "Thank you, Jungkook." You whisper, throwing a knife and hitting the target dead-center. You turn around to thank him again and are met face-to-face with Jimin. "Wrong person, Y/n."
"Good throw."
A/N: The full chapter will be about 5-7k words and will probably be out around the middle of next month! I am trying to finish it as fast as possible, and this is my first time writing 🥳🥳
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bangfantanfic · 5 months
Text
Bring The Fire: 7
Warnings: May contain mentions of murder, rape, animal abuse/deaths, yandere behavior and sexual scenes.
NOTICE: as this story progresses, I do intend for it to be rather dark. Future themes of this story may become triggering. I do not believe any of BTS would truly behave this way, it is purely imaginative. Please do not repost this anywhere. 
Genres: Yandere, romance, Royal!AU, Isekai.
Tags; @ratherbefangirling @teugiie @trtlthts @p-i-e-d-p-i-p-e-r @xyahrinx @outsidersbinoculars @deluluisme @jewishmommy @devils-blackrose @ezzy-witch @ctrllamb @potterbrooke @mageprincess7 @imagine-forlife @blaaiissee @millenniumspec @inlovewithallmusic @toughbook @ungodlyjoon @everrrlasting @kooookie @anachikartadze @walkxthexmoon @sukunabitch @lachimolala22019 @darkuni63 @demarie04
-Please let me know if you would like to be removed or added to the taglist!
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Spring had settled, the snow all but an unpleasant memory. The chill to the air still hung heavy in the early hours of the morning, but by early afternoon the sun had warmed the air. You would be a liar if you said you weren’t curious how Spring looked in the Empire, just how different did it feel compared to your timeline? Everything felt different compared to where you were supposed to be. But maybe that’s nothing unusual. You weren’t even sure if this was a different timeline. What if it was a whole different universe? Or, the easiest theory to stomach, a coma dream. Maybe none of this was real and you were in a hospital bed, drugged out of your mind, and having crazy dreams. 
The last option seemed the most likely, and the most comforting. 
Still, you were desperate to find out what exactly was going on. You needed answers and a way home. Returning back home (if it was even possible) was your number one priority. Whatever you returned to didn’t matter, anything would be better than whatever the fuck was going on here. Asking Deoksun for help had been awkward. You couldn’t tell her exactly what was going on, as much as you love the girl, you couldn't risk her running back to Namjoon and confirming his suspicions that you were in fact a witch. Who would believe you? How could you explain that an attempted suicide had landed you here? Wherever you are. You know damn well you wouldn’t believe it. 
You had asked Deoksun if she knew of anyone who was able to read futures, read palms– anything of the sort. She had eyed you with as much suspicion as you had assumed she would. She had a few questions, all of which you were eager to answer, telling as much truth as you could without letting her know too much. You had explained you wanted to know your future, was marrying Prince Seokjin a good choice? What was life going to look like if you agreed? The maid had eyed you up and down, her nose scrunched up before she had shaken her head and told you she didn’t know anyone who was able to do such things, but she would look into it. That had been some weeks ago, and you hadn’t heard any news on the subject since. You didn’t want to push her, but what if she had forgotten? 
You had officially been here for just over two months. Namjoon had kept you isolated from himself, and his brothers. You were still stuck with the company of the old toad, your teacher, and sweet Deoksun. You loved the maid, but she was still just a child. She wasn’t a person you could confide in. So you have taken up journaling. It has been therapeutic, helping you get all your lingering thoughts out of your mind. Of course, you had been careful with what you had written, just to be safe. You couldn’t risk someone reading anything. 
The last two months had been incredibly lonely. Usually, you didn’t mind your own company, back home you had even relished in it. Now you realize, that without modern-day technology, you were most definitely not built to be alone. But, you were certain this was Namjoon’s plan. You wanted you alone, isolated. If he could get you desperate enough for human contact, maybe you would give him whatever information he was so desperate for. But what could you even say? You had told him the truth, and lying wasn’t an option. Agreeing to his suspicions was out of the question. A shiver ran up your spine at the thought of admitting to witchcraft, even if it was a lie. What would he do? 
The princes still sent small notes to your room, some nights you heard them by your door, pacing before slipping envelopes under the door. At first, you had ignored the letters, throwing them into the fireplace unopened. You would watch the fire eat away their words, a sense of satisfaction in your chest. But as weeks went by and loneliness began to eat away at you, burning their letters no longer gave you any satisfaction. You had begun to read their notes and letters, but you never responded. A small pathetic part of you was relieved they hadn’t forgotten you yet, that they still thought of you. It made you feel a little less lonely. 
How pathetic.
Namjoon still allowed you to go outside twice a week, always accompanied. You had been assigned a regular guard, a man roughly your age, named Wonwoo. He was tall, quiet, and handsome. Wonwoo took his job seriously, never letting you stray too far. He kept you at arm's length at all times. You assumed Namjoon gave him details on what everyone's schedules were, seeing as most days he avoided going to certain areas of the palace. You had yet to run into the princes yet. You couldn’t help but feel a teeny tiny bit thankful toward Namjoon for the effort, he may think it was a punishment but in all honesty, you didn’t want to see them as much as Namjoon didn’t want to see you. It worked in your favor. 
Deoksun hadn’t accompanied you on your morning walk, which was a first. When Wonwoo arrived at your door, the young girl missing from his side, it almost had you declining your only form of ‘freedom’. The guard had given you a deadpan look, arms crossed over his wide chest as he looked down on you. 
“I’m a busy man, Lady Kim. I have far better things to do with my time, so please, make a decision.” 
The bitter bite to his words had your pettiness bubble over. You may not want to go, but you’ll put on your big girl pants and be off. If it would piss off the man, you would be damned if you declined. 
Huffing, hiking your poofy hanbok into your hands you shoved passed the man, marching down the hall. The Palace which had once felt like an unfamiliar maze was slowly becoming familiar. Maybe not the entire building, but the halls that you needed to know were engraved into your brain at this point. Every outing started on the same route, with a few changes depending on the Prince's schedule.
Your door slammed shut, heavy footsteps thundering behind you until your guard was at the same pace he always was. In the beginning, you had hoped to form a friendship with the man, desperation clinging to you heavily. You had tried everything you could to get the man to conversate with you, and every time he brushed you off. You were nothing more than a nuisance to the man. You had learned that quickly. You had also quickly learned he was easily irritated, often biting his tongue to hold back scolding you for running off or being too loud. So on the days he seemed particularly pissed off with your existence, you made sure to do everything you could to worsen his mood. You had very few joys in this life, you’d be damned if you didn’t take advantage of annoying an unnecessarily attractive, moody guard. 
“Lady Kim, please stay close.” Wonwoo groaned, his pace picking up. 
You ignored the man's begging, your steps picking up speed. The sun was out surprisingly early, reflecting off the dewy grass. It had rained heavily the night before, leaving the grass soaked through., and the earth mushy. You missed your boots. The hem of your dress was caked with mud, and for a moment you felt guilty. It was such a pretty outfit, and you had ruined it within only two hours of putting it on. Deoksun was going to be so upset with you. 
The stables come into view, and your excitement picks up. Deoksun and Wonwoo had shown you the horse stables two weeks before, introducing you to the giant horses bred for battle. You had never seen horses so large before. Deoksun had been so excited to show you the beasts, that even Wonwoo had a little pep in his step. But your attention had been ripped away when your eyes landed on the fattest cat you had ever seen! The tabby was waddling toward the stables, its stomach bulging at the sides. You could have cried in delight. Deoksun had quickly explained the tabby was the pest control for the stables, her name was ‘Cat’, so very creative. She also happened to be heavily pregnant, hence the roundness. You had quickly befriended the cat, surprised with how friendly she was. You had honestly expected her to be feral.
Since then, you had begged to visit the stables in the hope of kittens. You had even snuck some chicken and other meats into your sleeves to bring along to bribe the cat to be your friend, and it had been working. Unfortunately, you didn’t have any leftovers for your new friend. You were a little worried she wouldn’t like you as much without the treats. 
As you reached the back entrance of the stables, you made a beeline for where Cat had been setting up her nesting spot. She had been a little thief, stealing cloths and other soft things from the palace to make her birthing place as comfortable as possible. You had even brought along a blanket from your room to give to the sweet girl. 
As you reached the back entrance of the stables, you made a beeline for where Cat had been setting up her nesting spot. She had been a little thief, stealing cloths and other soft things from the palace to make her birthing place as comfortable as possible. You had even brought along a blanket from your room to give to the sweet girl. Your excitement quickly disappeared at the sight of a trail of blood leading to where Cat was nesting. Your stomach tightened, that was too much blood to be from birthing. You turned on your heel, bumping into Wonwoo’s chest. The man grunted, his back going rigid. 
He stepped around you, following the trail stopping at the pile of loose straw and bedding that you had helped the animal build up over the last few visits. The poor cat had been torn to shreds, by what he could only assume was a dog. It looked like the babies had been eaten, considering there weren't any of their bodies around. He knew the cat had given birth a few days after the Lady’s last visit, but she wasn’t aware. Deoksun had wanted to surprise her. 
Wonwoo signed, rubbing his hand over his face. The poor girl was going to be devastated, he couldn’t let her see the gory scene. Making his way back to where he had left the Lady, he frowned, finding the space now empty. Wonwoo felt his heart rate accelerate. If he lost the damned woman, he would lose his head– and he was quite happy with his head where it was! 
“Put it down.” You shrieked. 
Wonwoo felt his bones nearly melt in relief at the sound of his Lady’s voice. Quickly, the guard took off toward the direction her voice had sounded from. He found the woman at the front entry of the stable, one hand on her hip while the other pointed toward a man's back. 
“I said, put it down!” She hissed, crouching down to pick up a small stone. 
Wonwoo eyed the man’s back, his brain working overtime trying to figure out how–why– a man's back was so familiar to him. His eyes widened, scrambling to grab your arm as you pulled back, but he was too slow. The stone had left your palm, soaring a short distance before hitting the man in the back of the head. 
The man spun on his heel, eyes narrowed with unfiltered rage. 
Prince Min Yoongi, future Emperor. 
Yoongi had skipped his morning engagements. Meeting women of noble clans wasn’t exactly the way Yoongi had wanted to spend his morning. Families he couldn’t remember tripping over themselves to catch his attention, begging for their daughter to be the next Empress. It was embarrassing, honestly. Instead, he decided to take Taehyung and Jeongguk's dogs out with him. By order of the Emperor, Yoongi wasn’t supposed to go anywhere alone. Guards were always supposed to be flanking him. But sometimes, a man just needed his own space. The dogs were trained just as well as any royal guard– they were also excellent hunters. Unfortunately, they weren’t always the best listeners. His brothers were far too lenient on the mutts. 
He had honestly tried to rein them in when they had spotted the tabby cat trying to sneak its way back into the stables. But they were Poongsan’s, famous Korean hunting dogs. What was he supposed to do? Stop their instincts? If he could act on his own, so could the dogs. Yoongi had hung back, listening to the dog's joyful barking and the cat's pained screeching. It was over quickly, for him at least. But to his surprise, one of the dogs returned with a tiny tiny kitten hanging from its mouth, unscathed. He plucked the tiny thing from the dog's mouth, holding it up to inspect it. It was tiny. Yoongi wasn’t sure if he had ever seen a living thing quite this small. 
It was all black except for a tiny white spot between its nose and mouth. The closer he inspected it, he realized it was wounded. A small amount of its ear had been ripped off. Not enough to kill the thing, but what chances does it have without a mother? 
Sighing, the prince held the tiny creature out toward the dogs, taunting them. The tiny kitten whined in his grip as he swayed it around, the dog's tails wagging as they watched eagerly. They wanted it, and he would gladly let them fight for it. As he pulled his arm back to throw the creature to the dogs a loud voice caught him off guard. 
He turned, raising a scarred brow to the woman. He hadn’t seen her before, but judging from her attire, she was well off. His best guess was she was here to be introduced to him, a prospective bride. She was certainly pretty, but what drew him in was the rage in her eyes. The woman looked positively murderous. Her chest heaved in anger, her hand shaking as she pointed to the rat-like creature in his hand. 
“What, this thing?” He questioned innocently, looking down at the newly lowered kitten. He pursed his lips. “No, I don’t think I will.” He grinned, turning back to the dogs that had begun to whine. 
The woman let out a sound of anger. Yoongi could practically feel the heat radiating from her body from the few feet away she stood. He could hear her shifting behind him, getting slightly closer, only to freeze when the dogs growled at her. 
“My dogs are hungry.” He shrugged, glancing over his shoulder and giving her a lazy smile. Turning back to the dogs he waved the cat around again, reigniting the dog's excitement 
“I said, put it down!” She hissed.
A new set of footsteps had caught Yoongi’s attention, but he didn’t bother to look toward it. His heart was beating erratically, a new emotion he wasn’t familiar with pulsing through his veins. It felt similar to excitement, but the word didn’t sit quite right. This wasn’t excitement, thrilling absolutely, but that wasn’t right either. He wasn’t sure there was a word to describe whatever it was that he was feeling. Whatever it is, he wasn’t sure he liked it, but fuck was he already addicted to the feeling. 
Yoongi made a move to toss the animal to the dogs, but the moment his shoulders had flexed, the woman seemed to have noticed. Something hard hit the back of his head, a soft thud. It didn’t hurt, but anger filled his veins. In all his years, not a single person (besides maybe his brothers or father) had ever disrespected him in such a way. Who in their right mind throws something at a prince? Let alone their future Emperor. 
Yoongi felt possessed, his body moving on his own accord. Soon he stood only inches away from the woman, who only stared back with a hard glare. He could see the way her body trembled, she was scared despite the expression she bore. 
“Do you know who I am?” He asked softly, his eyes burning into hers. 
The woman's shoulders raised, before dropping back into place. “An ass-” 
“Forgive her, your Highness! She is new to the Empire, she is still learning.” Her guard cut in, stepping in front of her, bowing deeply. He kept his gaze to the muddy grounds. 
“Then allow me to educate you.” Yoongi gritted out, straightening himself up. “I am the Prince of this empire, the future Emperor, Min Yoongi.”
The woman scoffed, arms crossing over her chest. Her eyes flickers towards the kitten in his hands for a split second, relief seeming to flicker across her features before hardening once again.
“I’ve already met the Princes.” She scoffed, waving a hand around him. “You aren’t one of them.” 
The guard groaned, his face paling as he straightened himself up, leaning over to the woman's ear, whispering. Yoongi strained himself trying to hear what he said, but failed. Whatever it was, the woman's face scrunched up for a moment before she turned to face the guard in disbelief. 
“You mean to tell me there’s seven of them!” 
You felt sick. 
You had been horrified at the thought of four princes. That seemed too many, but seven? Somebody needed to castrate the Emperor right this instant. 
Your body seemed to act on its own, your back bending, nearly sending you face first into the mud. You may not have had many people to be bowing to over these last few weeks, but your teacher had basically beaten it into you. Bow, bow, bow. 
“My apologies, Your Highness.” You gritted out, arms crossed over your stomach. 
The man snorted, his empty hand wrapping around the neat bun on top of your head. He pulled your head up into an awkward angle, forcing you to cock your neck in an awkward angle to look up at him. The man grinned, the whites of his teeth and pink of his gums on display. He looked cute, almost childish, and you hated yourself for thinking that. But even you could admit that he was a soft looking man, even with the harsh scar over his brow and eye. It was the dark look swirling in his eyes that alerted you to the fact that this man’s looks were only there for a false sense of security.
“You don’t sound sincere at all.” He frowned, his grip tightening on the tiny kitten in his other hand. 
The tiny cry of the kitten had your heart aching. It was true, you weren't apologetic at all. Not even a little bit. This lunatic was about to feed one of Cat’s babies to his dogs! How on earth were you the one having to apologize for his terrible actions? 
“Please, accept my sincerest apologies, Prince Yoongi. My behavior was uncalled for, I promise you it will never happen again.” The words tasted bitter on your tongue as you forced the most sincerity into your words as you could. 
Your words seemed to have worked, a new look ignited in the prince's eyes as he looked over your face. 
“You promise?” 
Your stomach churned at the look that flashed across the mans eyes. You weren't entirely sure what it meant, but you were smart enough to know it wasn't good. Min Yoongi set a chill in your blood, he made every cell in your body scream. You had though Prince Namjoon was a man of power, a man of danger. You didn't believe you could fear anymore more than you had feared Namjoon.
Yoongi had proved you wrong.
All you could do was stiffly nod your head, your body physically going against the action.
A grin spread across the mans pink lips, a look of pride in his eyes.
"Good girl."
________
A/N: Hey all! Welcome back! I’m so sorry for how long this took, life has been less than pleasant! Hopefully my next update will be more interesting, and much sooner. As always, feedback is welcome and very wanted! It’s very helpful in kicking my ass into gear! I thrive off of encouragement lmao.
I LOVE YOU ALL <3
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cybsoo2 · 2 months
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my obsessive fan
╰┈➤ synopsis — Each story is a glimpse into what your life would entail if these seven were your obsessive fans.
╰┈➤ pairing — yandere!bts x idol!reader
╰┈➤ word count — 3.6k
╰┈➤ content warning — murder, yandere behavior, stalker behavior, kidnapping, just the usual
ੈ✩‧₊˚ note ; GUYS HOBI DOESN’T ACTUALLY KILL HIMSELF!! i realize it kinda seems like he did but don’t worry he’s alright just a lil traumatized :)
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—Kim Seokjin
Jin considers himself unexplainably lucky
The universe has given him a chance that he’ll never be able to deserve
One day during his first semester of college he met someone special that little did he know would change the trajectory of his life forever
Seokjin made a friend and they grew fairly close as the years went on, until one day this friend came to him with a bittersweet conversation
She was switching to online school as her dreams of becoming an idol were finally answered
Jin supported her decision and waited patiently for her debut
An Autumn song caught his ear on the day of her debut and his eyes no longer followed her form
Instead, Jin became starstruck by the lively girl who made the stage her own
Since that day, Jin only sees his relationship with your member as insignificant
He only cares to engage with them when it involves you
Seokjin is a snake with his words and uses his charms to his advantage
He’ll manipulate and lie his way into getting new information about you
Although, sometimes it’s slightly suspicious when almost every time they hangout is when you’re tagging along
He really has just turned your co-worker into a tool at his disposal
At the most lowly point of his life, he even resorted to flirting with the foolish girl in order to sneak into your dorms
Granted, this repulsive act brought up serpents in his stomach and he had to restrain himself from the gags that tore up his throat
He wound up drowning himself in mouthwash to try and get rid of the rancid taste that never seemed to leave his lips (He was tempted to almost bury himself in bleach but resisted)
This traumatic event did have an upside though, as he was able to creep into the dark corners of your bedroom when his other companion was asleep
Unfortunately, you were not safely sleeping under his watch but just being able to stand in the place he frequently hallucinates about is enough for him
His consciousness moves into a dream-like state as he takes in everything that your fingers have touched
His heart flutters while silently sweeping his gigantic hands over your stuffies and sheets
He takes a seat on your bed and breathes in the reflection of your spirit
Shaking hands reach for the sweater tossed to the left of him
His lips quiver and he can’t hold back the sobs that force their way of him
His misty moon-eyes shine in the light that passes through your curtains
Blue bleeds from his curled up body and coats every surface of your previously vivid room
He despises the way his rotten emotions have blended into your walls
Nibble fingers then quickly gather any item that has sucked up his sorrow (At least that’s what he tells himself)
He’ll take these souvenirs of your sunshine and cherish them until that delightful day arrives when you eventually take their place
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—Min Yoongi
He’s your producer and songwriter
Articles and fan sites have become fascinated and praise the poetic nature of your songs
Each line is drowning in lovesick emotion that carries the weight of the human soul
Each song is unique with a variety of tales telling love and sorrow combined with hateful rage and tortuous terror
Every lyrics he writes is a vow to love you
It’s not a surprise how romantic and illusionary his songs end up being, his heart always sings for you after all
Every time your songs win an award he feels as if his love is validated
And every time a songs fails to reach an achievement, he sobs for days on end, promising to do better
He will not let his words fall flat and be mistaken for empty oaths
His apartment is an archive, full of stacked books overflowing with the words of adoration that never stop their cascade
A graveyard of blue pens (your favourite colour of course) lies in the corner of his living room, each scripted soldier aiding to the thousands of verses written in your honour
Above the TV playing visions of you, are the hundreds of awards placed delicately upon his shelves
You’ll have to excuse his selfish desires but he couldn’t stop himself from taking them
Each award is a golden reassurance that his love for you is reality and the world is aware of it too
It’s even better that these trophies were once held lovingly in your hands
He used to trace the ghost of your fingertips along the lines of the figurine 
Although, once he realized his tainted touch smudged away your memory, he cut his fingertips off in a panic and laid them up on his wall where they've stayed still ever since
Drifting away from painful memory and onto thoughtful perceptions, in a competition between your siren singing and your sweet spoken call, your regular voice comes as a close second
Each sonnet you speak is that much more meaningful due to the fact that what you say are the words he wrote
An angelic tone constantly fills the silence of his apartment from dusk to dawn
It’s even more euphonious watching you perform in the studio
He can’t help his glossy eyes from floating to stare at your open lips
Whilst your silver voice is the constant background noise that fills his head, Yoongi finds time to record you speaking light-hearted chit chat during your recording sessions
When the time comes and Yoongi must make his way home, he walks slow in the studio but sprints on the sidewalk
His rush can be contributed to the fact that Yoongi is always inspired to work on some arrangements when provided with new material
He’ll cut and paste the pieces of his collection and create new paragraphs that he pretends you said to him
Yoongi sees your life as a duet
Neither complete without the other
He used to sing in silence but his voice is so insincere compared to yours
And he takes pride in the way your career and prosperity relies on him so much
You two are so trusting in one another yet a step to far away
It’s a pity Yoongi’s too accepting of his life with you to risk taking it a step further
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—Jung Hoseok
In Hoseok’s realm of reality, you are both undoubtedly in love with one another
Yet your relationship is a secret, kept hidden away from prying eyes and stuffed into the back of his closet where cardboard cutouts and posters sleep
Hobi’s too shy and nervous for his undying love to be publicized, so he’ll just stick to supporting you from the sidelines
He has a YouTube channel where everything and anything is all about you
His favourite segment is unboxing the hundreds of albums he purchases for everyone of your comebacks
Before cutting open the wrapping he’ll wish and beg to see your face so much it’s almost satanic
When he pulls your photocard he almost faints in excitement but when his hands are dirtied by pulling the face of another one of your members he ends up trashing the card
Speaking of your photocards, his collection includes every single card that can be found
Binders upon binders are filled with your face and when he ends up doing a tour for his channel, the video ends up being over 30 hours long
Hoseok’s favourite hobby involves curling up in his bed and cradling your limited edition twin plushie in his crushing embrace
He nestles up to the faux sense of security, stroking the soft fabric and pretending it’s you
Soft yet erratic gasps tumble from his warm mouth
His head controls the ghosts of you that creates strawberry cheeks
A sensitive smile paints it’s way onto a caramel canvas
His body grows hot as his hopeless fantasies drive him into delusion
Swollen lips begging out to brush up against yours
His eyes hang heavy lidded with overblown pupils 
His previous crying mellows down as trembling whines grow needier
He daydreams about how you’d feel held up against him
A raw, rose-bud blooming between the both of your bodies
His heart trembles, overwhelmed by your hands tugging at his hair and dragging your peachy, plush mouth across his neck
Honey hot hands grip harder to the sheets beneath him
You make him so weak
Heat pools below his stomach, all strung up in pretty pleasure
Pressure building and body temp rising, Hoseok’s lost in a fool’s paradise
After every climax in utopia, Hobi is hit with the reality of his predicament
The rainy nights that follow look something like this…
Hoseok gets his head bashed in by a reality check
His brain is blown to bits, bleeding south along his bathroom tiles
Venom pulses through his veins as he wishes the world would lose it’s mania
Veracity is Hoseok’s enemy but it’s a good thing he’s hopeful
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—Kim Namjoon
You make Namjoon so curious
His thirst grows stronger in need of consuming any knowledge slightly related to your existence
Namjoon knows you better than the gods who created you
He’s your worshipper who knows your wants and needs of the past, present and future
Namjoon always keeps updated about your schedules, personal plans, and tiny details which other fans have shared
He keeps a binder stocked full of information
The binding is bursting and pages threaten to flutter out of their place
He’s set aside every Wednesday and Friday to study your life and it’s interesting habits
Saturdays are for quizzes which he forces his roommates to participate in
He’s even started to live his life exactly like yours in order to feel closer to you
This includes him eating the same meals you do and visiting places you’ve been photographed at just minutes after its been posted
He’ll never miss out on purchasing all products you endorse or are seen using
He’s even tailored his style to match your own (He’s always been a fan of couples clothing)
And Namjoon, ever the worrier, is anxious that all your lives, messages, and posts are in danger of being corrupted and lost forever, so he downloads all your content into an archive for safe keeping
Namjoon is a worshipper, dedicating his devotion to your entirety
In a walnut wardrobe with a false backing is where your shrine meets his eyes in the early morning and late night
Of course it’s adorned with the finest and most expensive amenities
Jewelry, love notes scribbled onto loose-leaf paper, totems of the gods luck, and a single golden lock of your hair (Don’t ask him how he got it)
The centrepiece held in this sacred sanctuary is a painted portrait of yours truly
Namjoon’s never been much of an artist but it would be such a travesty not to document your desirable beauty
Every fine features flows into the next, blurred together with emotion and sentiment
He spend almost all the hours of his wake languishing away in an attempt to perfect every detail
He persisted in his laborious ways until every curve, divot, and colour matched that of your own
When a year has faded away and his mastery is finished, pearl droplets of ecstasy and varnish are used to seal it
His half of the shared flat he lives in resembles more of an art gallery and archive then an actually home
No part of Namjoons personality, hobbies, or are emotions are his own
All this mania and madness is for you
The generous god who was gracious enough to let him love you
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—Park Jimin
Jimin is your #1 fan
He was there as you built your career from the bottom and has supported you in every way possible
Every album you produce winds up in his grasp and every song is played on repeat the minute of release
He’s watched every video you’ve ever featured in 100 times over
Posters of you are plastered over every inch of his room, some photos even spilling out into the hallway
Jimin’s favourite lullaby is the sound of your siren song that flows from his CD player every night
Your sugary, sweet voice slithers deep into his thoughts every moment of every day
You are the best things that has ever happened to him… but also the worse
Park Jimin is so fucking jealous
He’s always had trouble containing the fiery beast that lies unsettled in his stomach, yet lately it’s been getting bad
He sees the way you interact with your members and he doesn’t think they’re good for you
They hide your true potential under fake smiles that smear their scarlet lip gloss
He hates only being able to watch as ‘fans’ cover you in filth
His hatred has almost boiled over so many times that he had to stop going to fan-meets
Jimin would never lie to you but he can’t let you see him like this
Death would be a better fate than seeing the disgust that would splatter across your face at the sight of him in such a state
Crystal rain already begins to fall down his face at the mere inclination
The sour words you would spit at his feet and your hardened glare that would piece his chest
However, this doesn’t mean all that he’s done to show his love already is a lie 
He not interested in deceiving you, and the truth is that Jimin is so very sensitive
He’s caring and emotional, selfless when it comes to showing his worth
But sometimes Jimin feels that there’s two sides to him
A twisted twin that he’s so very tired of pushing down
Jimin is growing weak and he isn’t sure how much longer he’ll be able to contain the monster that’s ripping apart his rib cage
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—Kim Taehyung
Taehyung is your eternal shadow
He follows you in the light of day and stalks you in the dark of night
Having Taehyung as your obsessive fan would be like an undying disease
His entire life revolves around you
You are his universe
The first time he caught a glimpse of your face he rushed home to etch the memory onto paper
A fire ignited in his lungs where the smoke billowed out into short, wispy breathes
By the time the next day rolls around he still sits hunched over his desk drawing doodles of you in his notebook
This nights insomnia foreshadows many more sleepless nights spent studying pictures of you
After many weeks his drawings became too lifeless and he yearns for a stolen look at your features once again
The months that follow involve Taehyung spiralling into a new insanity
He quit his job and left his apartment, all in search for a closer spot to you
Taehyung and you share the same silhouette
This is proven in the way he pursues your every move
His new expensive camera captures every moment his eyes fail to catch
The walls of his room are covered in pictures of you taken by his artistic eye
He loses himself in the dreams these candids encourage and traces the outlines of your image as daylight falls
So lost in his own mania he catches himself mumbling your name in place of his friends and mistakes strangers scent in similarity to yours
As time grows old, Taehyung becomes bolder, more infatuated and impatient
This masochist like to tease himself with your touch, stealing the skin he meets when his stalking becomes more akin to silent assault
He takes the risks that put your whole relationship in stake
His crimes double in number as his obsession becomes insatiable
His delusions morph into a place of real-life euphoria as clarity escapes his mind
Last night, right when the clock aged 11 in the absence of light, he stepped foot into your domain
He hasn’t been thinking straight lately, too blinded by his fantasies to consider the consequences
He crawls over to your bed where heaven lies in a slumbering state
He’ll let his throat tear itself to sheds speaking his heart-felt confessions to you
“I’m crazy about you.” Two kisses laid to bed on the crest of your chest
“You’re the center of my world.” Bed sheets rustle as he pulls himself closer
“I’m completely, and utterly devoted to you.” He melts into your unconscious embrace
When the sun wakes, he takes his time dragging himself off of you and out the door
Let’s see how far Kim Taehyung is willing to test his temptations before he destroys it all
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—Jeon Jungkook
“You’re the one I’m dreaming of, in endless love, you’re my forever.”
Jungkook’s love for you is infinite, yet despite his honest intentions, the execution of his attachment can be quite clumsy
It seems that your love is so shocking that it electrocuted his mind
Your breathe so toxic that it ties him up in a tongue-twister, tripping over his words for the days to follow
Body so heavenly that his brain has melted into mush upon your first encounter
Jungkook first spotted you on a billboard in the city and he swore he could see the stars in your eyes
Since then he dove head-first into everything there was to know about you
He schedule practically matches yours too a tee
Although this was not without great struggle, after losing his job, blowing his rent money, and setting fire to his friendships, Jungkook has endured everything in order to be close to you
He makes sure to attend all your events, concerts, fan-meets, and all things in between
He’s the one who shouts your name the loudest, he gives you the biggest gifts, and he sends you the most love letters
Practically every one of your fans knows who he is at this point
Jeon Jungkook is a psycho fan who stalks you, is blacklisted from almost every venue (But that never stops him from finding a way in), and has had rumours of assaulting other fans who get in his way
His obvious obsession is also what leads him to check all articles, management posts, and your social media every night
This is was leads him to a harrowing discovery
“Unfortunately, popular k-pop idol L/N Y/N has fa-” He never finished the sentence before he threw up
Checking back on the article his concern became reality as news of you being injured broke his barely beating heart
The ice water drifting through his veins pours out of him in the form of desperate teardrops
Ear-shattering wailing disrupts his neighbours sleep and Jungkook's crying continues on for the rest of the night
The only solution to his misery comes to him in a disfigured dream
Jungkook makes his way to your apartment on an evening that borders on sunset
Fresh flowers are placed in front of your door accompanied with a hundred page note and a stinging smile
He hopes that this will cheer you up in your times of great distress
…His plans end up backfiring completely
The next night you go live and Jungkook waits athirst for the words you’re about to speak
“Please, please stop coming to my home. I can’t trust or appreciate anyone who so blatantly ignores my privacy and safety. If I have to beg you to stop stalking me then how can I even call you my fans?”
You think he doesn’t love you?
No, no, no, no, he loves you, oh god he loves you so much
Why can’t you see it?
Can you not tell just how much his heart screams out for its other half?
Do you not notice all the agony he has endured, and will continue to endure, in the name of your happiness?
This revelation brings on a fit of hysteria 
Fears squeezes the air out of his lungs as he hyperventilates on the living room floor
Wet words are yelled out between sobs and pleads for your love
His tears don’t stop flooding his eyes as he lies helplessly on the wooden floorboards that soak up the sadness
Hours border on days as he lays limpless
He doesn’t eat nor sleep yet only mumbles a hopeless mantra that he prays will reach your ears
“I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you-” 
Poor, pathetic Jungkook
All those days sitting in sorrow allow a dire idea to fester within his mind
Termites of idiocy tore apart his brain and spat out of the lovelorn remains
Perhaps this distance is what’s limiting your sight of his loving languish
He wants to be closer to you, craves it, no, needs it to survive in this confusing world that pins you two against each other
So all this thinking leads him to kidnap you from your dorm
He shushes your scream with the hand held over your mouth (one that also holds a wet rag submersed in chloroform)
When you wake you’re disoriented and full of confusion
You’re faced with an unfamiliar ceiling and dark shadows that spiral into your sight
The only strong force that keeps you connected to this world are the arms wound tight around your torso
The muffled man comforts your crying before you can notice his own
“Now I can finally show you how much I love you.”
© cybsoo2 2024, all rights reserved ‎
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