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pennyellee · 4 months

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𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐀𝐆𝐍𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐈 | 𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐁 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐔 pairings: heartthrob!jk, yandere!jk x fashion employee f!reader genre: dark romance, smut, porn with plot, 90s word count: 14K beta read by @chaoticpuff17 (ily) masterlist

summary: You, a determined fashion designer, find yourself entangled in a collaboration with the irresistibly charming and egotistic heartthrob, Jeon Jungkook. Will this partnership remain strictly professional, or will he make the lines blur?

warnings: minors dni 18+ | sexual tension, emotional distress, teasing, fingering, unprotected sex, jk is selfish af, jk is delulu, oral (fem receiving), forced oral (m receiving) spanking, squirting, cum swallowing, creampie, yandere behaviour, obsessive behaviour, choking, rough sex, pussy pounding, bruises, manipulation, gaslighting, strong language, oppressiveness

disclaimer: this story is purely fictional, it does not depict real-life events or involve any actual members of BTS. This story will contain strong language, explicit content, obsessive behaviour, alcohol drinking, illegal activities, oppressiveness, which we do not condone.

author's note: so as I said in the preview, this did not go as planned but I really enjoyed writing this to the point that I might do a part 2, perhaps 3, but we'll see about that. JK is delulu af here and the reader does not think through everything. For those who did not read preview and came upon this just now - originally what i wanted to build around was how Rachel Green from Friends was offered a job at Louis Vuitton but it was in Paris and Ross did not want her to go - that was supposed to be the whole plot (with slight changes ofc), well and somehow it went a bit darker than i intended so instead of rom-com, i'd rather listed it as dark romance and yandere. Hope you'll enjoy it! Love, always.

1996

“He said what now?!” The sentence burst out of you with a high-pitched tone, nearly causing your latte to spill all over your pristine white blouse and grey blazer. Not exactly the ideal way to kick off a new month, you mused as your friend dropped the bombshell about a certain someone.

“That you’re the future mother of his children,” said your friend, an amused smirk playing on her face. “I seriously don’t know how you can still resist him, girl.” But resist him, you did.

Jeon Jungkook was undoubtedly one of the most sought-after and sexiest heartthrobs of the decade, possessed the best face card in the industry and carried the biggest ego in all of New York City. You could vividly recall the day he strolled inside of your office with the head of your department. A cocky, playful grin plastered on his face the moment his eyes landed on you.

Right from the very beginning, you made it crystal clear to Jungkook that your relationship would be strictly professional during your collaboration on the Calvin Klein project. He was given his own collection of men’s wear, and the job to work with him fell upon you.

You knew that this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for you to elevate your standing within the fashion circle. Jeon Jungkook’s fame was immense, and your name would be signed on the collection too. It’s not like you are head over heels that your name would be associated specifically with Jeon Jungkook, but you understood right away that this could put you on the radar. Your boss had even hinted at the possibility of a higher position within the department.

He constantly teased you, flirted shamelessly, and crossed boundaries by touching you as if you were his girlfriend. It was wildly inappropriate, especially given that the two of you had never even gone out for a work dinner or lunch alone. There were always other people from the team, and yet he always managed to find a way to sit right next to you. But it seems Jungkook was still living in an illusion where you were his girlfriend.

Your gaze shifted to the majestic Twin Towers, standing proudly in the distance, as you let out an annoyed puff of air.

“He’s ridiculous,” you finally declared.

“Or cute,” countered your friend, opposing your viewpoint. She found this pseudo-relationship with Jungkook amusing, but a small part of her secretly wished you’d just give in and go out with him. It was quite some time since you were in a relationship, and Jeon Jungkook would definitely be a nice catch. You were not interested. Or you tried to persuade others that you aren’t.

“No, ridiculous,” you retorted again, lips pursed, and brows furrowed.

“Oh, come on, give him a chance finally!!” she exclaimed.

“Absolutely not! He’s egoistic, manipulative, a cocky little bastard with damn good hair,” you said, your tone rising as you reached your final proclamation, which had simply slipped out of your mind that way.

“See? One good thing — good hair. Marry him,” she laughed it off.

“Now you’re being ridiculous, and I’m going to be late for work.” You said while dusting your black skirt, grabbing your purse, and leaving a few bucks for the coffee. The song on the radio stopped your departure for a moment, listening to the familiar voice coming from it, you rolled your eyes.

“That’s a clear sign, Y/N. Give it a chance!” she called after you, and you couldn’t help but throw a side eye her way, though a small smile tugged at the corners of your lips nonetheless.

As the day passed, you found yourself increasingly entangled in the whirlwind of meetings, fittings, and photoshoots with an ever-present Jungkook. The photoshoots, in particular, became a source of both frustration and amusement. However today, a bigger problem surfaced.

“Why’s he half-naked, Lucy?!” You hissed at your assistant. Normally, you are very kind and respectful to everyone, but Jungkook had managed to irk you the moment you stepped into your office, finding him already seated in your chair with that smirk you despised. Bringing a coffee for you, which you never drink, or donuts that you always share with the department - not eating one yourself.

Jungkook, adorned in the latest Calvin Klein designs you two had meticulously crafted together, claimed a personal touch of his persona— at least, that’s how he described it. He looked effortlessly handsome, the camera adoring him, but what grated on your nerves was that his attention was solely focused on teasing you.

“We also have shirts, why is he not wearing one?!” You continued, expressing your disagreement to what was before you. What angered you even more was that you could not stop staring at his abs.

“We shot with shirts earlier. They said the underwear and jeans will appear more artistic if his V line and abs—”

“Alright! Alright!” You stopped her in mid-sentence. You didn’t want to look that way nor you didn’t want to admit that showcasing his V-line would enhance the aesthetics of the jeans. Therefore, you took a deep breath and walked towards the refreshments, you were in need of a second cup of coffee.

You heard the photographer call for a break, but you were focused on calming yourself with a steaming cup of coffee. Despite your irritation, you couldn’t deny that he looked breath-taking in the outfits you had designed, and it infuriated you.

Suddenly, two arms were laid flat on the table’s surface, caging you in between. You could imagine his devilish grin. He did this way too often, whether it was his fingers lightly tracing your arm or tucking a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, looking intently into your eyes until you were fighting yourself to not get lost in his Bambi eyes.

“We’re almost done for today,” he whispered seductively into your right ear, his lips almost touching it. Your breath stammered.

“And yet you did not learn a single thing about professionalism or work ethic.” You bit sarcastically, turning slowly to face him.

Jungkook’s grin only widened at your remark, and you couldn’t decide whether you were infuriated or slightly flustered by his audacity. He leaned in even closer, his breath grazing your ear as he spoke in a low, husky tone.

“Tutor me then, in bedroom — preferably” he suggested, his lips still dangerously close to the shell of your ear.

“I don’t think so. You’re beyond help,” you shot back, trying to assert control over the situation. His proximity was distracting, and you couldn’t afford to let him undermine the fact that you were in charge.

Jungkook continued to hover over you, the photographer calling for everyone to regroup for the next set of shots. You seized the opportunity to escape his magnetic pull, smoothly slipping out from between the table and his arms, deciding to escape to your humble office, seeking solace in the calmness it provided.

It wasn’t long before the shoot officially ended, and you knew damn well, that the man wouldn’t leave you alone. The door creaked open, and you turned to find Jungkook leaning against the frame, that infernal smirk still etched onto his face.

“We did a good job, why don’t we celebrate it over at my place, baby?” he complimented, but there was an undertone of something else in his voice. You overlooked his physique and leaned back in your chair, narrowing your eyes, making a clicking sound with your tongue.

“Jungkook, again, this was a professional collaboration. Nothing more,” you asserted, emphasising each word. If you did not say this sentence at least a hundred times you don’t know. He never takes it seriously; it appears as he is still trying to hammer his way into your guarded heart.

He pushed himself off the doorframe and sauntered closer. “We’ll see about that,” he said, leaving you with a cryptic grin as he exited your office. The only thing you could do is sigh.

Before you went to continue working, you heard how Jungkook’s voice echoed from the hallway.

“I bet I can change your mind, sweetheart!”

You rolled your eyes, muttering under your breath.

“Not a chance.”

The denim collection with Jungkook was taking shape, and the buzz surrounding the collaboration grew with each passing day. A success, your boss was much more than pleased.

This success, however, meant even more for you. You were on cloud nine, basking in the glory of your hard work and the prospect of a ground-breaking partnership. Totally, forgetting to play unreachable when it came to the clinging boy who starred in this iconic collaboration. And that must have given him a false hope, perhaps a narrative in which you were his girl.

You were sitting in your office when you hung up the telephone after speaking with the vice president of Guess that contacted you earlier last week, offering you a part in a project for their brand, in Los Angeles. A dream come true for you. Leaving this place, after years of building your career from scratch, felt overwhelming. You loved working under Klein, yet it was time for you to take it higher. Your boss did not offer you a new position, and therefore, you did not hesitate to take the job opportunity and elevate yourself in fashion ranks.

It was an offer too tempting to resist, and you found yourself diving headfirst into the project, not even looking at the door when someone stepped in without knocking.

“You may leave the reception reports on the table, Lucy,” you said once feeling a presence in your office, not raising your eyesight from your computer, writing the prompts for the project Guess wants you to lead. Your twelve days’ notice already printed out, ready to be signed by your boss. You planned to stop by his office after you would finish writing the draft and sending it to the Guess team together with the copy of your portfolio that you needed to make before you leave.

When there were no reports left on your table after a good long minute, you looked up.

“You can’t just leave.” he said, standing tall in the frame of the door, stepping inside once you finally gave him your attention. You could sense a hint of desperation and anger in his voice.

You raised your brows at him. How does he know? The mere thought of you leaving for LA, leaving him behind, was enough to make him confess the depth of his feelings.

You leaned to the leather armchair and listened to him closely.

“What are you talking about Jungkook?” His eyes betrayed a mix of anxiety and vulnerability as he blurted out his fears.

“What about us? What about everything we’ve built together?” He stepped closer to your desk, looking directly to your eyes. You were taken aback by the raw emotion in his words. The air in the room thickened.

The once-confident man now stood vulnerable before you, stripped of the bravado that had defined him. And you were utterly confused and surprised how delusional this man is.

“What are you even saying, Jungkook?” you questioned, your tone a mix of confusion and frustration.

“You can’t leave me!” He raised his voice an octave higher.

“Calm your tits. I’m a grown-up woman. I can do what I want.” You sassed back at him, tired of this made up situation-ship in his head. He scoffed, a bitter smile playing on his lips.

“We’ve built something special, and I can’t watch it crumble because of some job offer!” He continued his rampage. You took a moment to breathe his words in, closing your eyes and counting to ten to calm yourself.

“Jungkook, I appreciate your honesty, but I can’t give you what you’re asking for.” This caught him by surprise. Instead of screaming at him, you chose to play the I’ll stay calm and professional card.

His eyes widened in disbelief, a mix of confusion and hurt clouding his features. “What do you mean?”

Choosing your words carefully, you said: “I genuinely value this project we worked on together, but it’s time for us to part our ways.” To fool him was your goal.

Jungkook’s shoulders slumped, the weight of your words settling upon him. “Who are you lying to, Y/N?” His words shocked you.

“I’m not lying Jungkook, I’m telling you the truth to your face, as you were too stubborn to hear it before.” You stood up from your chair, moving to lean on the front of your desk, to show him he cannot get to you.

The room fell into a heavy silence as Jungkook looked deep into your eyes, searching for the truth in your words.

“So, it’s all about the career for you? You’re willing to sacrifice everything else, including us?” Your jaw clenched, but you maintained your composed façade and with flaring nostrils and clenched teeth, you spoke.

“There is no us, Jungkook. Get it into your head already!” So much for being calm. The room crackled with tension as the argument reached an impasse. Jungkook shook his head, a mixture of disbelief and frustration.

“I can’t believe you’re throwing away what we have because of some job.” Your eyes widened even more and the fact he would not listen boiled your blood.

“Do I need to spell it out for you? I’m not your girlfriend! I was never your girlfriend, and I will never be your girlfriend!”

But Jungkook wasn’t ready to accept defeat. His frustration reached a boiling point too, and without warning, he grabbed you by the shoulders, pulling you into an intense, angry kiss. It was a clash of emotions, a tumultuous blend of passion and anger that fuelled the fiery exchange.

Your initial instinct was to resist, to push him away, but the intensity of the kiss ignited a different kind of fire within you. His lips moved fiercely against yours, gripping your ass in his hands, making you moan to his lips. Your hands found their way to his hair, fingers threading through the dishevelled locks as the kiss deepened, your frustration causing to tug them. He growled from pleasure at the sensation.

It was a collision of lips and tongues, a heated exchange that spoke volumes without a single word. Once his hands disappeared under your skirt and the heat intensified, a sudden surge of clarity washed over you, breaking the intoxicating spell.

With a forceful push, you broke away from the kiss, creating a space between you and Jungkook. You locked eyes with him, your chest heaving as you struggled to regain control of the situation.

“I need you to leave,” you stated, your voice cutting through the lingering tension, you leaned against the desk, your heart still racing from the intensity of the moment.

Jungkook, still caught in the haze of desire, tried to close the distance again, but you held up a hand, halting his advance.

“Leave!” You growled, turning your back to him. You didn’t want him to see your face anymore, because soon enough, tears would break from your eyes. You’re overwhelmed.

A loud bang of the door signalled that he finally understood and left. Breaking down with tears streaming down your cheeks you gasped for air. Tears blurred your vision as you struggled to regain composure.

You’ve counted to ten again, wiping your tears. You felt taken advantage of. He went too far this time. But this was only the beginning of his tremulous and wicked plan he had for you.

You packed your purse, ready to leave your office, you just needed to grab your work portfolio that you needed to send over to Guess. But the space it always inhabited, on the conference table, was empty. And you had one lucky guess who the thief was. “Fucking bastard.”

In the days that followed, the chaos in your personal and professional life escalated. The stolen portfolio, a representation of your work, became a haunting absence. As if the life source of your hard work was cut down.

Determined to salvage what remained of your career, you began the arduous task of recreating it. But time was not on your side, and as you delved into the meticulous process, news of your termination from Calvin Klein reached you like a punch to the gut.

The phone call was impersonal, a cold voice delivering the news of your dismissal as if reading from a script. Some Jack from the HR department spoke to you, someone you have never ever seen in the building whatsoever. Your boss did not even pick up the call when you wanted to ask what made them push the decision to let you go. You certainly did not deserve this after years of working for the brand. The reasons were vague and you knew this had to source from someone powerful. In simple terms, someone snitched that you’re planning to leave.

As the reality of unemployment settled in, you clung to the remnants of optimism that lingered, but even that proved elusive.

You were hundred percent sure that he is trying to sabotage your whole life when the call from Guess, a reason you did not fight for your position at Klein’s delivered another blow.

Their decision not to collaborate with you crushed the remnants of optimism that clung to your spirit. The dream that had seemed within reach now slipped through your fingers, leaving you in a free fall of uncertainty.

They hadn’t even granted you the courtesy of waiting for your portfolio, even though it wouldn’t be what they expected. Whatever oral agreement had been in place disintegrated. So here you are — jobless.

All this left you reeling with disbelief. The career you had meticulously built, the dreams that had taken years to nurture, all unravelling at the seams. The pain was visceral, a mix of frustration, anger, and a profound sense of betrayal.

You were certain that Jeon Jungkook himself was pulling the strings behind the scenes. And you hated him for it, needed to confront him and say that shit with your chest right to his face— he can go fuck himself. Set the record straight once you’re there.

Whatever he was thinking by ruining your career will force you to do, he better fix it before you’ll sing to the media about his bunny smile and kind heart being all fake. The line had been crossed, and he would face the consequences of pushing you to the brink. Or so you thought it would go how your brain delusional thought it through.

Hence, with a heavy heart and a determination to confront the chaos head-on, you stood before the front door of his infamous penthouse. Emotions swirling within you like a tempest.

With a deep breath, you knocked, the sound echoing through the quiet hallway. The door swung open, revealing Jungkook’s bunny smile reaching his eyes.

“Well, well well, are we ready to talk like adults, pretty?” He mocked this whole situation because he knew this would end up in his favour, nonetheless.

He moved back to let you in, and you stepped into his apartment, a mixture of anger and desperation in your gaze.

“I know you took it,” you said, crossing your arms on your breasts. The heels of your black leather boots echoed in the apartment when you turned to face him.

“Took your breath away by that heated kiss, sexy, certainly. Otherwise, I did not take anything.” Jungkook scoffed, crossing his arms defensively. The tension in the room was palpable as you square your shoulders, refusing to back down. You blinked twice at his cheesiness. The tip of your tongue moved to rest on the bottom of your upper teeth, your smile spreading on your face. The chuckle came out of you so naturally, laughing at his ridiculously ridiculous behaviour.

“Don’t play dumb, I know it was all you. You malicious sabotaging petty boy—” You retorted, articulation perfectly clear while the words laced with underlying frustration and anger.

He sighed, weariness settling over him. “You think I stole your portfolio to sabotage your career? You’re giving me too much credit, love.” Here he comes.

“I said nothing about my portfolio, Jungkook.” You said playing with his name on your tongue. A tense silence hung in the air as he considered your words, clicking his tongue, clearly annoyed and you were just getting started.

“I managed to figure that out. A drink? —” He offered, shrugging her statements of like snow in summer whilst he moved to the small bar that was a part of his spacious living room.

“I don’t want a drink, Jungkook. I want it back now,” you replied, your tone cutting through the casual offer. The anger in your gaze intensified, fuelled by the frustration of dealing with his nonchalant attitude.

“Let’s talk, baby.” He gestured towards the living room, as if trying to usher you into a more comfortable setting for the impending confrontation. He knew this was just a little shower, the real storm was still far away, giving him space to prepare.

As you moved, you could not help but notice the contrast between your demeanour and his. While your arms were still crossed defensively, his posture exuded a calm confidence that irked you further.

You took a seat on the edge of the sofa, not willing to fully settle into the illusion of camaraderie. Jungkook, on the other hand, sprawled onto a nearby chair, the picture of nonchalance.

“I need that portfolio to get a job because a certain someone has to be bitchy and sabotage my whole career because his big ass ego cannot take rejection. Give it to me,” you fired off, your words sharp and accusatory. He leaned back in the chair, smirking.

“Those are very bold words, Y/N. I would prefer to think of it as a wake-up call for you, not sabotage.” Your incredulous glare only intensified.

“Are you fucking serious Jungkook? A wake up call? You’ve just jeopardised everything I’ve worked for, and you’re calling this a wake up call?”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his gaze locked onto yours.

“I can get you a better job.”

You scoffed. The audacity of his response fuelled the simmering anger within you.

“You can’t get a shit, so give it back to me, and I’ll be on my way,” you requested.

Jungkook’s smirk remained, an infuriating mix of arrogance and nonchalance.

“No,” he said, smiling. Your hands clenched into fists at your sides, the frustration reaching a boiling point. He leaned back, seemingly unperturbed by your rising anger.

“What do you mean no?!” you shot back, your voice sharp.

“You were about to make a decision that would have consequences beyond your imagination. I had to intervene.”

“What the fuck are you on again?” Jungkook’s gaze remained fixed on you, the intensity of his stare almost unnerving while your voice went an octave higher. Your frustration reached its peak, and you stood up, pacing the room as you ranted. You were breathing heavily, trying to calm yourself.

You needed that portfolio, it was a collection of years of a work and your best work to be specific. The lousy new version won’t get you a job at no high-profile fashion brand and you cannot afford to go lower than your last position.

“Alright—” You said defeated, turning yourself to face him again, you put off your black leather jacket and fixed your low ponytail, slumping back to his sofa. Spreading your arms on the backrest and cross your legs.

Jungkook took a moment to breathe in the sight before him; he was throbbing for you.

“—what do you want?” you asked. He leaned back further into the chair, putting his masculine tattooed arms to rest on the back of his head, showing his abs from under the white tank top he is wearing.

“What do I want?” he mused, as if contemplating the question but he already knew.

“Spill it out.” You barked and he chuckled at your eagerness. He got up from his seat and dangerously slowly walked towards you.

When he reached you, both of his arms pressed to the leather of the sofa inches from you, caging your body. Your breath stammered as you looked at him towering over you, the golden chain around his neck hanging.

“Firstly, I want you to be my good girl, apologise for being a brat the other day and admit there is an “us”. Secondly—” he whispered seductively, closing the approximate distance while doing so. He was right in your face, looking over at your lips evidently, he was controlling himself to not attack them. He invaded your personal space. The sudden shift in atmosphere left you breathless, and you could feel the heat radiating between you.

You squared your shoulders, refusing to succumb to the intoxicating energy he exuded. “I won’t apologise for any shit, now secondly?” You said while trying to hold your horses. You hate to admit your pussy was clenching and leaking under his gaze. He was attractive, and no one could deny that.

His fingers grazed your cheek gently, a teasing touch that sent a jolt of electricity through your body. You swallowed hard, trying to maintain a semblance of composure.

“I want these feisty little plump lips wrapped around my thick cock—” you pushed him away from you once you heard his words. Grabbing your jacket and storming your way out to the door, angry with yourself that you let it go this far.

“You walk out that door, and you’re done in this city, fuck even the whole continent if I want,” Jungkook declared, his tone heavy with a sense of entitlement. The words hung in the air, a threat laced with possessiveness that sent a chill down your spine.

“You’re bluffing.” His eyes darkened, a storm brewing in their depths.

“You’re underestimating the consequences, Y/N. I’ll snap my fingers, and you won’t get a job. Anywhere.” A bitter laugh escaped your lips. You did not believe him one bit, determined to try harder at the job hunting.

“You’ve already done enough. You can’t do worse.” You scoffed, the absurdity of his demands pushing you further away. He stepped closer, the air thick with tension.

“You’re not leaving, Y/N. Either you’ll be my good girl and apologise, or all it will take is one phone call.” As you reached for the doorknob, he grabbed your arm with a force that bordered on aggression.

“I am my own woman, Jungkook.” Your eyes flashed with determination as you wrenched your arm free, emphasising every word of the sentence you just uttered.

With that, you swung the door open and stormed out, leaving Jungkook’s apartment and the tumultuous mess behind. The city lights greeted you outside, a stark contrast to the suffocating atmosphere within.

Your telephone remained eerily silent, devoid of the calls and opportunities that once filled it with promise. Jungkook’s vindictiveness had effectively severed the threads connecting you to your professional life, leaving you adrift in a sea of uncertainties.

A tear escaped your eye as you clutched the piece of paper you fetched out of your mailbox — an eviction notice. You had fallen behind on rent, pleading with your landlord for more time, promising to pay in full for two months once you secured a job. But that ended up not happening, and that’s how you find yourself sitting in a messy apartment full of half packed boxes, no job, little money left, and a bottle of cheap wine.

Moving in with friends or seeking refuge with your parents was not an option. They never supported your dreams enough to provide for you in such dire circumstances, especially at your age. Unmarried, jobless, and on the brink of homelessness, you felt trapped.

Despite your efforts to secure another job, including poorly recreating parts of your portfolio, rejections piled up, and the search for a new apartment proved equally futile. Not like you could afford it anyway.

The city that once held promise now felt like a maze of closed doors and dead ends. The mere thought of dialling his number sent a shiver down your spine, a conflicting mix of pride and necessity wrestling within you.

You drank the last of your wine, hiccupped, and cried. With only twenty-four hours to vacate your flat for the new tenant to come in. The friends you once thought you could rely on were facing their own struggles, unable to provide the sanctuary you so desperately needed. You had nowhere to go apart to his clutches if you of course did not want to freeze to death in the bustling city. It confused you how it came to having no other option.

Taking a deep breath, you dialled his number, each ring echoing the surrender of your independence. The telephone rang in your trembling hand. As the call connected, a heavy silence hung in the air and you desperately tried to calm your breathing.

“Jeon speaking,” his voice crackled through the phone. You were shaking in cold sweat, your eyes blood red from crying and alcohol clouded your mind enough to call him.

“Hello?” you heard his voice speak again, and another sob left your lips. The lump in your throat made it difficult to speak, but you pushed through the discomfort.

“I-I’m sorry.” The man on the other line smirked, seemingly thrilled to hear your voice. The next sentence you uttered, however, was even sweeter music to his ears.

“I need you.”

You heard his car park in front of your building the next morning. The boxes were long gone on their way to the heart of Manhattan where Jungkook’s penthouse awaited. It was only you and your suitcase with only necessities packed inside. The reality of the situation hit you as you looked around at the empty apartment. The purple walls, once full of pictures from trips with your friends, were now bare. The fridge stripped of silly magnets you liked to collect, stood empty. Nothing left.

Taking a deep breath, you gripped the handle of your suitcase with a sense of resignation. You glanced out of the window on your way out, finding Jungkook casually leaning against his shiny black Jaguar, smiling directly at you. Closing your eyes, you mentally said goodbye to your small apartment.

Your hair, lazily put into a hair clip when you woke up, had a few stray strands escaping, framing your face that still showed signs of swelling from crying all night.

As you stepped out into the hallway, the door closing behind you, the weight of the suitcase in your hand served as a physical reminder of the choice you had made. Is this really your only option?

The sound of Jungkook’s footsteps echoed in the corridor, approaching closer with each passing second. He ran up the stairs just as you were locking the door. His gummy smile met your gaze, a clear expression of his happiness. The heartthrob had finally gotten you where he wanted you all along.

He was dressed in a denim jacket and jeans from the collection you worked on. As if he was intent on reminding you of something. His long curly locks were gone, replaced by a short mullet.

You, on the other hand, did not feel to dress classy and elegant as you usually did. You swapped heels for a pair of white sneakers, a tight designer skirt for simple blue boyfriend jeans and your upper body was covered by a white shirt layered with a pink shirt you loosely tight on your waist, leaving the buttons half open.

“Baby?” he called out. You must’ve zoned out, as now he was holding your suitcase in his hand, ready to leave.

“M’sorry, I was in my head,” you apologised. You didn’t want to upset him by negatively reacting to the pet name even though you irked to tell him you’re not his baby.

He smiled softly, putting the suitcase down, walking over to you. He caressed your cheek, leaning in for a kiss. Turning your face, he landed his lips on your other cheek. The man chuckled and put the freed strands of your hair behind your ear. “Don’t worry. I got you now.”

The drive to Jungkook’s penthouse was filled with an uncomfortable silence as the city lights passed by in a dizzying display.

“Welcome home!” The words hung in the air, the irony not lost on you. This was far from a home; it was a gilded cage you succumbed to. You did not answer him. You couldn’t bring yourself to do so.

He was saying something about a closet, but your mind totally spaced out looking at the boxes that you packed hours prior, casually sitting in his living room.

“Baby?” You looked at him, eyes wide when you realised you were not listening to him again.

“Do you want to start unpacking or should we head out for brunch first?” He approached you. Jungkook did not stop smiling since he pulled his car in front of your building.

Unpacking felt like an acceptance of this new reality, while brunch felt like an attempt to hold onto some semblance of normalcy.

“I... I think we should talk,” you finally managed to say, your voice carrying the uncertainty that lingered within. Jungkook’s smile wavered for a moment, but he quickly masked it.

You couldn’t ignore the fact that your life had taken a sharp turn, and the unfamiliar surroundings only intensified the sense of displacement. Jungkook threw himself at his sofa just where you were sitting months prior. He motioned with his hand, silently ordering you to sit.

“I promise not to bother you long. I just need you to get me off the blacklist so I can get a job. I can’t be tied to you indefinitely.” You spoke softly, careful to not anger him just yet. You knew he wouldn’t appreciate the direction this conversation was heading, but you needed to set the record straight. This was temporary, at least in your mind.

Jungkook’s expression shifted, a subtle tension in his features. He sighed. Leaning forward, Jungkook grabbed the remote control of the HiFi that was standing proud, setting it on, and whence the soft tones of Isaak’s “Wicked Game” resonated the penthouse, you could not help but raise an eyebrow.

He petted his knee, a silent invitation. You were not stupid to not understand what he wants, yet you opted to sit next to him instead of where he wanted you.

“Maybe we got lost in translation, love.” He spoke leaning closer to you. The music seemed to underscore the unspoken tension in the room.

“You won’t leave me, baby. I’ll keep you so satisfied and happy; you won’t even want to go.” He whispered to your ear. The atmosphere became charged with a palpable desire. His proximity sent a shiver down your spine, a conflicting mix of temptation and resistance.

“You can’t keep me here against my will, Jungkook,” you asserted, maintaining a thin thread of defiance. Yet, the allure of his touch lingered in the air, clouding your better judgement.

“Try me, love. I’ve got ways to make you stay,” he countered, his tone dripping with confidence.

It took all you have in you to stand up and storm to the large windows that provided a magnificent view of Manhattan. This time, however, he was right behind you.

You heard him growl. He was angry, and he proved so once you found yourself pinned to the large window, your back facing him. He attacked your neck right away, bruising every single inch. His hand roamed over your breast, squeezing them to the point you had to moan. The situation escalated rather quickly, your resistance made him press you to his back even harder.

“I’m so tired of your running,” he groaned into your neck. You put your hands on the glass trying to push yourself away and give yourself space to free from his grasp, but he has put a majority of his weight on you. You can feel his growing pulsating bulge on your heart-shaped bottom.

“Maybe I should show you, who you belong to, princess.” He cupped your sex through your pants, and you whimpered from the sensation. You knew this was utterly wrong; you should not react to his touch this way, but you couldn’t help to notice the wetness pooling in between your legs once he continues to attack your neck with his soft plump lips.

“Jungkook-” You tried to resist, but his hand was already done with unbuttoning your jeans, sliding right down to your core. Your panties were sticky, your head was spinning, and the part of a window was getting foggy right next to your mouth from your hot breath.

“I’m gonna fuck you so good.” He pulled his hand out of your pants for a second to wet his fingers and put them right back on the little bud that was waiting to be touched. He pressed his fingertips on your clit, circling it painfully slow. The heartthrob rutted his hips into your ass, looking for a friction, making you move your hips towards his hand. He chuckled to your ear.

“If you want that job, baby, why don’t you deserve it first?” you could sense a little hint of mockery in his voice. The pulsating beats of the music seemed to echo the rhythm of his movements. Now slow and calculated.

As the song reached its crescendo, his finger entered your vibrating heat. “Hm?” He pried, his finger moving in and out in punishingly slow, drawing silent moans from you when he brushed up the right spot.

“W-what do you want?” You stammered out of yourself.

“You. All of you of course.” Jungkook replied in a heartbeat. Your heart raced and your head was clouded by the pleasure he was providing. Moving his finger slightly faster, you found yourself bowing forward, your body wanted him to reach deeper.

“Please—” you whimpered when he slowed down the tempo again.

“Give me an answer baby, will you be my good girl?” Now it was your mind that raced, grappling with the implications of his question while squeezing your walls around his finger.

“Maybe you need a little more convincing, hm?” He softly bit your earlobe whilst inserting his second finger into your heat, making you moan louder than before. You pressed your forehead onto the glass and looked down at his hand in between your legs. The sight made your pussy clench even harder. A small tear escaped your eye, you are overwhelmed, and the pleasure is clouding your sound judgement.

“What will it be, baby?” His fingers finally raised the tempo, and your eyesight was getting blurry, biting your lip from the sensation.

“Fuck—” you nibbed at your bottom lip a bit harder, trying to fight with yourself. But you couldn’t. He was playing a game, and he was winning this round.

“Yes!” you screamed louder than you intended when he hit the sweet spot, making you see stars. You did not necessarily want to agree. It was more of a reaction to how good his fingers feel inside of you. But Jungkook’s interpretation did not align with yours.

What you did not expect is the sudden feel of emptiness once his fingers abdicated its place. You protested with an unpleasant whine of frustration.

He spun you to face him, being quick enough to grab you below your ass, illocutionary forcing you to jump up. Jungkook leaned in to kiss you while he navigated the apartment blindly, right to the master bedroom.

Now you were feeling thrown. Literally. Your body bounced a little while Jungkook stood at the foot of his king sized bed adorned in black sheets. You could smell his expensive cologne on them. He was very eager to continue what you started.

His shirt was long gone and so were his pants when he was pulling down yours, alongside with your through-and-through wet panties. He very quickly inhabited his head in between your legs. Licking all the dirty juice your pussy was producing.

You could not help but to bury your fingers into his hair, slightly tugging on it once he decided to abuse your clit, sucking on it, his piercing cold against your skin. You were starting to feel the knot inside your lower belly, moaning and panting out loud.

“I’m gonna!—” you breathed out heavily. Squeezing your eyes shut, feeling the heat rushing your body.

“Not yet,” said the heartthrob, parting away from you. You shot your eyes open to look at him towering over you, his briefs thrown away somewhere in the room, and his pride leaning proudly against his abdomen, angry and red. The perfect opposite of soft. You gulped down. He was definitely not lying when he suggested he is thick.

The heartthrob helped you get rid of the rest of your clothes, bending down to lay a single kiss right above your clit, maintaining eye contact with you all the time. Sticking his tongue out yet again, making a straight wet line up your belly, ending at the valley between your breasts.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” He groaned, squeezing your tits while pumping his dick, he could not take it anymore.

He spread your legs further, making space for him to fit right in. Your walls are trembling from excitement, especially when he presses the length of his cock to your lips, coating himself in your juices.

“Condo—” you went to say when his lips silenced you in a hard passionate kiss. He moaned to your mouth, pressing the tip of his cock to your entrance, stretching you open. You pressed your hands to his chest, parting away from him. He looked at you with confusion and you repeated yourself.

“Condom, Guk,” you said, using the nickname in an attempt to soften his hard features. Something told you that you might have just pissed him off. The heartthrob sighed and involuntarily got up, walking all the way to the bathroom, giving you a million-dollar view of his ass. Your gaze then shifted to his muscular shoulders, involuntarily admiring his impressive physique. You couldn’t deny he was hot as hell.

Your nipples were perky from the thrill that your body was going through. It was quite some time since the last you got laid. Maybe that’s why it took him minimum effort to turn you into a whiny, needy little bitch.

You heard the light switch going off in the bathroom, and the man himself appearing in the doorframe with the little shiny square in his hands. Tearing it open, he returned to sit on his knees on the bed while sliding the condom on.

He grabbed your legs under your knees with one swift movement, sliding you closer to him. One hand aiming his cock to your entrance the other finding its place on your throat, holding it with the right pressure to elevate your pleasure. Pushing all the way through, you whimpered loudly at the intrusion. He was big, and you felt like you’re going to explode. The heat rushed through you like a momentary fever.

The heartthrob could not wait for you to adjust to his size, and he started to snap his hips into you in a punishing tempo, making your body bounce up at every thrust and clench your eyes shut tightly. Loud moans coming out of you.

“You take me so well, baby.” He whispered into your ear seductively, panting and groaning from the pleasure. He was on cloud nine, finally having the woman he longed for quite some time.

“Got me waiting for this pussy almost the whole damn year.” You met his hungry gaze, your moaning synchronised with his. He crushed his lips to yours one more time before thrusting his cock in and out of your heat faster and deeper.

You bit down on his lip, him groaning at the sensation, slapping your ass in the heat of the moment.

“This pussy was fucking designed for me.” He claimed you.

He was hitting all the right places, making you squeeze your eyes shut again. He upheld his promise to fuck you good. You can regret this after, now it’s not the time.

“M’wanna pound this pretty ass too.” He pulled out of you, turning you to lay on your belly, slapping the already reddened skin before setting you on all fours, ass up. He did not hesitate to rut inside of you again, feeling him all the way in your stomach, you screamed his name.

“Jungkook!” his thrusts set a brutal pace that you were not sure if you’ll survive. Their moans continued to echo in the room.

“You belong to me.” He growled, pounding your pussy, the sound of skin slapping was audible ten times louder than usual. The knot in your lower belly appeared again, got you moaning uncontrollably.

Jungkook sensed that your climax was near and went to rub your clit with the desire to make you cum all over him while getting himself off with you.

“Guk—” you choked on your words, your legs and hands were trembling, tears springing out of your eyes. You desperately needed to cum.

“I know, baby.” He kissed the arch of your back, making his hand and hips move even faster, hitting your cervix. If this is heaven, you don’t want to leave.

“I-I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna cum!” You shouted, feeling the knot untying itself rather quickly. Jungkook growled right to your ear. He was close too, dangerously close.

“Baby!” He whimpered, feeling the tension rising.

Your juice splashed the sheets as you squirted all over his cock, crying, the orgasm hitting you way too hard. Jungkook’s hips did not stop while he chased his own release, complimenting you, your body, and how you are such a good girl while doing so. With a loud moan and one last deep thrust, he came in you, holding you still while he emptied himself. The warmth of his release felt too authentic, but you were too fucked out to notice.

As you were also too fucked out to notice the empty abandoned condom laying on the ground.

“I love you so much baby—”

It was getting dark outside when you woke up, your head pounding as you looked over your naked body and evident ache in between your legs. The sheer curtains that are covering the floor to ceiling windows, once airy and light, now filter the early evening light into a soft, diffused glow, creating a cosy atmosphere. You cuddled the soft sheets that were wrapped around your lower body, thinking that you could sleep some more.

But when you heard the muted notes of En Vogue’s Whatta Man blasting somewhere in the penthouse, any hopes of serenity were shattered. A curse slipped through your lips as the reality of your surroundings hit you.

“Fuck,” you muttered through your teeth, the small fists pounding against the bed. To muffle the scream of mixed emotions, you seized a leopard-patterned pillow, pressing it against your face.

You had willingly let this happen, all for the pursuit of a damn book and damn fucking job and your damn fucking career. But why was it so precious, you might ask? Your portfolio wasn’t just a collection of pages bound together; it was a culmination of dreams, aspirations, and relentless hard work. Each design you made over the years, a carefully curated piece of your artistic vision, held a piece of your soul.

The portfolio was your identity as a designer, a visual storyteller who poured emotions, creativity, and skill into each piece of clothing. It was something you presented yourself with, and you believed it held the power to open doors. It got you your first adult job after you spent two years in the big apple on your own, dreaming big while washing dishes behind the counter.

And it got you the second job of your early fashion career, a higher position than sales assistant, the head designer at the men’s wear division at Calvin Klein. You were aiming to become the head of the department when a better offer came your way, from Guess.

The project they offered you to be a part of was a kind of interview to get through and sit as the executive director of the women’s department. You were thrilled to accept as you always wanted to design for your gender.

And he fucked it up. So, you have to excuse yourself by letting your guard down, giving him a chance to sway you. You are doing this for you and your career.

You sat on the bed, eyeing the modern bedroom that screamed his name as did the smell of the room. Just like you remembered before you blacked out from all the pleasure he forced upon you.

Sighing, you moved your sore naked body to the edge of the bed. A black leather armchair caught your eye, a clean set of underwear laid out on it, burning under your gaze. You gulped down. This was your mess after all. You let him come too close—extremely close, judging by the recurring ache between your legs.

“Fuck it, it’s fine.” You’d manage somehow, or at least, that’s how you decided to play along with his nonsensical fantasy and possessive behaviour.

You tiptoed down the penthouse, searching for the devil. You knew you were going the right way when the music grew louder. Peeking from the narrow hallway into the living room, he was nowhere in sight. Only the RCA telly with MTV on indicated that he must’ve been there.

The sizzling sound of something cooking and a pleasant aroma hit your ears and nose. He was in the kitchen, cooking. Jeon Jungkook was in the kitchen, cooking. A certain degree of domesticity welcomed you as you stepped into the all-blue kitchen. His kitchen was way nicer than yours, you noted. Large cabinets, the island full of food ingredients he was preparing. Your gaze lingered as your eyes traced his masculine, naked back, tattoos shouting at you. Your knees felt weak at the sight, your body reacting to him as if he were the alpha wolf.

You couldn’t help but bite your lip. He was swaying his hips to the rhythm of the song. Even from this point of view, you could tell he is in a very good mood. It seemed like he was glowing.

You leaned against the arch, contemplating whether to make your presence known or observe from the shadows. Before you could decide, he turned around, planning to cut the vegetables, his eyes locking onto yours immediately. Bunny smile plastered on his face, reaching his ears — a juxtaposition to how anxious you looked in his big shirt.

Quickly circling the kitchen island, he reached you in a matter of seconds. The heartthrob was beaming with happiness seeing you in his kitchen, in his shirt, barefoot, face raw, and all his. At least, that was his perspective after he finally got you where he wanted you.

“Baby!” He squeaked happily, pulling you by your wrists. The movement causes your petite frame to collide with his naked torso. Jungkook did not let you speak even if you wanted to, instead he pulled you even closer, pressing his lips to yours. You yelped, surprised by the unexpected collision. The vulnerability you felt in his presence only heightened as he claimed you, his happiness seemingly derived from having you exactly where he wanted—vulnerable and dependent on him.

The kiss lingered for a moment, and as Jungkook pulled back, his eyes locked onto yours again, gleaming with an unspoken mischief you could not decipher. He seemed to revel in the flustered state he had induced, and a cocky grin played on his lips.

“Morning, beautiful,” he whispered, his warm breath grazing your ear as he finally released your wrists, pecking your lips softly again. The shirt you wore clung to your form.

“It’s almost five pm.” You muttered back after you gave the digital clock on the stove a glance. He laughed it off, not replying.

“How do you like your steak?” he asked, his tone casual as if the passionate kiss hadn’t just occurred.

“M-medium rare,” you stammered, still processing the sudden turn of events. He chuckled, the sound resonating in the cosy kitchen as he came back to the stove to resume cooking, what you assumed is your dinner. Your stomach growled loudly when the delicious smell hit your nostrils, loudly. Jungkook even looked your way, encouraging you to take whatever you wanted from the fridge that was next to him, until dinner was ready.

You looked at the silver double-door fridge, and suddenly, your hunger vanished. Those were your magnets that were on your fridge just hours prior. He went through your boxes and unpacked them. The world was spinning, and your stomach was dangerously twisting.

He noticed the change in your expression, the playfulness in his eyes fading as he followed your gaze to the fridge.

“Something wrong, baby?” he inquired. You swallowed hard, attempting to mask the unease that threatened to bubble to the surface.

“No, nothing,” you replied, forcing a tight smile. His attention returned to the stove, the sizzling sounds and savoury aroma filling the kitchen. The clock on the stove continued its indifferent march towards evening. But your mind stopped.

“I-I think—” you stammered, it was hard for you to speak when there was an evident lump in your throat that wanted to emerge to the surface.

“Baby?” he raised a brow at you, letting everything he was doing to approach you again. You gulped down, trying to breathe it out.

“I think... I need—,” you tried, the words escaping in a breathy whisper. Jungkook’s expression shifted from curiosity to concern as he stepped closer. That got you even more anxious and a quick escape was a way you opted.

Your legs carried you back to the room where you knew a bathroom would be near. You heard him calling your name, but he did not run to get you. He must have thought that you’re trying to run again, but when he saw you going the way the master bedroom is, he did not push it.

You slumped right to your knees, emptying your already empty stomach into the toilet. Tears stringed from your eyes. Before you could calm or clean yourself the door creaked open, and Jungkook’s concerned voice seeped into the bathroom.

“Oh my god! Are you okay baby?” He hovered in the doorway, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. You didn’t have the strength to respond, only offering a weak nod as you continued to empty the contents of your stomach.

His footsteps approached, and you could feel him kneeling beside you, one hand tentatively rubbing your back.

“Easy, baby. Easy,” he murmured softly.

After a moment, the nausea subsided, and you leaned back against the cool porcelain, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Jungkook remained by your side, a true concern readable in his eyes.

As you caught your breath, you couldn’t help but notice the familiar objects around the bathroom. Toothbrush, hairbrush, all your makeup and even your pyjamas, had found a place alongside Jungkook’s in the bathroom. He was blurring the lines between your lives.

Glancing at yourself in the mirror, you winced at the sight of prominent hickeys and bite marks adorning your neck. You caught Jungkook’s worrying gaze but did not pay attention to it longer than you needed to.

“When was the last time you ate properly, baby?” he asked, caressing the small of your back, kissing the top of your head. You touched the tender skin on your neck, a mix of shame and regret settling in the pit of your stomach.

You knew very well that this wasn’t a doing of the lack of nutrition within your body but it did stop you to think for a second. When was the last time you had a proper meal and not a cheap ramen noodles from a convenience store near your building? You did not recall, so you rather opted to shrug your shoulders and reach for your toothbrush that could have melted under your gaze at this point.

“Why don’t you freshen up, and I’m going to finish dinner.” He sighed and kissed your temple. You’ve let him. He has done worse. As he left the bathroom, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being exposed—physically, emotionally, and now even in your most private spaces. Your eyes lingered back on the assortment of makeup and personal items neatly arranged beside his.

Brushing your teeth never felt so foreign and unnatural. Your eyes darted around his room after you finished, and that’s when you noticed what you did not when you woke up —a closet, half-filled with your clothes. Neatly folded, hanged right beside his. Even your jewellery was sorted by the type of metal. Your shoes, your skirts, dresses, everything. He had seamlessly integrated your wardrobe into his, as if signalling an intention far beyond a temporary stay.

Then all your pictures scattered on the walls as you walked down the corridor back to the heartthrob who swayed you here. Feeling the unease building in your stomach again.

Jungkook stood by the table, a knowing smile playing on his lips as he watched you approach. His eyes flickered with a mixture of amusement and possession. This all seemed like a stage for a performance you hadn’t signed up for.

The steak, perfectly cooked to your liking, accompanied by a side of vegetables. The spread looked delectable, and your stomach rumbled again, reminding you that you hadn’t had a proper meal in days. The scent of the meal teased your senses.

As you picked at your food, a question lingered in the back of your mind—how had it come to this? Have you really had no choice but him? Was this worth the trouble? Perhaps.

Your parents would think of you as a failure if you returned home. and your pride did not allow you to pick up your old job and be a girl for everything. You worked in the fashion industry and you were willing to do anything to maintain it.

“Are you listening to me, baby?” Jungkook broke the stream of your consciousness, his voice soft yet insistent. You hummed in response but your ears could not pick precise words that left his mouth.

“There’s Grammys next week, do you have any design for the red carpet so we could match—”

“What about the job?” You interrupted him, setting your fork down, staring at him viciously.

“So the Grammys—” he tried to continue without replying to you but you were having none of it.

“So the job, Jungkook.” You said through clenched teeth one more time. You weren’t about to let him sidestep the conversation about your career.

He sighed, the corners of his mouth twitching with a momentary annoyance. The room crackled with tension, the unspoken power dynamics unravelling before you.

“You’ve been a very good girl so far—” he lifted the handkerchief he had on his lap and placed it on top of the table next to his glass of red wine.

“Why do you have to misbehave now.” His attempt to redirect the conversation towards your behaviour only fuelled your frustration.

“I’m not misbehaving, Jungkook,” you shot back, your voice sharp and unyielding. “I need to know about the job. I need to know that you’re actually doing something concrete to help me, not just playing puppeteer with my life.”

“There’s an opening at Givenchy, and Prada or Dior but—” your eyes were full of false hope.

“—until I can be sure you won’t leave me the second you get the new job. You won’t go to any interview.” He leaned back, a predatory gleam in his eyes, as if enjoying the power play.

Your mind raced, torn between ambition and self-respect. You had worked tirelessly to establish yourself, and the taste of success was within reach. Yet, the cost demanded by Jungkook was steep—an indefinite surrender of your autonomy.

“That’s not what we agreed upon—” You whined out, anxiety clutching your insights in tight grip.

“Oh but we did baby.” He answered swiftly, smiling sweetly.

“I—” you wanted to protest, but he was quick to dismiss any argument you wanted to come up with.

“I said I want you, and you agreed, baby. You can’t take it back.”

“What does that even mean?!” You whined out.

“That I won’t let you slip through my fingers again. You belong here with me, and you better learn your place or prepare for a farewell with the magnificent fashion world of yours.” The ultimatum echoed in your mind as his gaze was trying to make you submit. Jungkook’s possessiveness loomed over you, a suffocating force that sought to confine your wings.

“You can’t force me,” words slipped past your lips, a proclamation of your refusal to succumb to his dominance.

“You underestimate the lengths I’ll go to keep you, Y/N,” he retorted, his voice low and laced with a dangerous edge.

“You’re sick.” You spat out at him, standing up to leave when he grabbed you and held you tight. You were looking up at his face, seemingly angry with your words. His eyes darkened, a fleeting moment of anger crossing his features.

“Aren’t you a bit ungrateful, my love?” he seethed, his voice a low growl. The possessive tone sent shivers down your spine, but you refused to cower under his gaze.

“I’m providing you with shelter, food, money and most of all my love.”

“It’s sick, Jungkook. This isn’t love,” you shot back, your voice unwavering. He leaned in, his face inches from yours, his grip unyielding. He scoffed, a bitter smile playing on his lips.

“You’re testing my patience, Y/N. You’re mine,” he retorted quickly, not letting you go. You wanted to protest, to tell him to fuck off, and even worse things, but he was not finished.

“Think with your pretty little head, won’t you?—” you glared at him, defiance burning in your eyes.

“—you can live like a princess, you can have your dream position and on top of that a loving significant other — me.” The seconds felt like an eternity, the weight of his possessiveness pressing down on you.

“What is success for when you cannot share the joy with someone you love.” He whispered, a sinister undertone in his words. You had a feeling he’s not only talking about you. You had to think, and you had to think quickly.

“You’re asking me to give up my autonomy, Jungkook.” You shot back, your voice unwavering. He scoffed, the air heavy with tension.

“You’re too stubborn for your own good, Y/N. You need me—” He chuckled, a condescending tone lacing his voice.

“—what were you gonna do if you didn’t come to me? Hm? Your mami and papi who are disappointed in you or your fake friends who did not bat an eye to try and help you out?—” You turned your face away from him, not wanting to let his words affect you.

“—I helped you. I am here for you!” He shook you, still holding a tight grip on you.

“All I’m asking in return is you to give yourself to me.” With a defiant push, you broke free from his grasp, leaving him seething in frustration. Covering your face with your palms, you sobbed.

“Love and loyalty is not that big of a price when you think about it.”

“You promise?” you choked out through your tears. You were tired, exhausted to the bone, and this was taking a bigger toll on you than you would expect. You wanted to trick him and instead he tricked you. But you needed to play by his rules to win in the game he started. His eyes softened momentarily, a twisted form of concern flickering in his gaze.

“I promise, baby,” he murmured, his tone almost soothing. The fire has ceased for now. Or so you thought. Despite the fragile promise, you couldn’t shake off the feeling that you were dancing on the edge of a precipice, held by the strings he so skilfully pulled. But the stakes were high, and you couldn’t afford to falter. You had no shelter, almost no money and no one to turn to. For now. You promised yourself, this is temporary. You will find a way out of this arrangement.

You finished your dinner. He insisted. You stripped naked while he was drawing the bath. He again insisted. The penthouse, filled with music and the fragrance of expensive candles. You allowed yourself to be led, like a puppet, your exhaustion overshadowing your instincts. As you sat there in the hot water, vulnerable, he wiped away your tears.

The water lapping against your skin is like an ominous reminder of the depths you found yourself in. Jungkook’s hands traced patterns on your back.

Jungkook, seemingly attuned to your exhaustion, wiped away your tears, the gesture carrying a strange mixture of care and control.

“It’s all gonna feel better once you accept it.” Said he, right to your ear, sending shivers down your naked body. You pressed your legs to your chest to hide yourself, a futile attempt at preserving some semblance of privacy, even though he had seen it all.

“I cannot grasp why you would do this to me, Jungkook,” you sobbed, letting him hold you against his chest.

“I did it for us, baby.” His hands firmly gripped yours now, making them stop hugging your knees. The heartthrob wanted you to relax in his presence. A laughable request considering the circumstances that led you here.

“Stop being delusional. There is no us.” You finally let him move your hands only for you to grab the frame of the bathtub and attempt to pull yourself up and away from him. He did not fancy this attempt of yours, and he let you know that by grabbing a large portion of your hair, dragging you back.

Your body slammed to his naked torso with a loud slap caused by the wet skin on skin contact. It took your breath away for a good minute.

“You didn’t seem to argue about it earlier today when my cock was hitting all-the-right-places, making you squirt, hmm?” Said the raven haired man, still holding your hair in his fist. He did not intend to hurt you, no, it was not as painful as the whole humiliating scenery and the fact you could not break free of him. He’s putting an example of what will happen once you stop behaving again. Putting you in your place — that’s what he called it.

“Matter of fact, Imma show you again that there’s us baby, until you realise it yourself.”

Trying to wiggle out of his grasp, you whimpered every time you pulled your hair back to make you stay still. And as if he changed his mind, your body was pulled out of the warm water, letting your hair go, making you fall down to the bright rug on the floor of the bathroom. Soaking it wet you looked up to him towering over your shivering physique.

“It was about time for you to show me how you are grateful to be my good girl—” he stepped closer. You did not want to look at him, knowing well what he is talking about.

“Open up baby—” you shook your head, pulling away from him and his hard member that he was holding just inches away from your face. You felt it meet your cheek and immediately retrieved yourself again which made him even more frustrated. His cock was painfully hard, and you were not cooperating.

The tattooed hand in your hair pulled you right back, his eyes bore to yours with a hard stare, and you swear they got even darker. His other hand was clutching your jaw, harder and harder until you involuntarily opened your mouth wide enough.

Taking the chance right away, he slipped his thick and hard manhood into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat. He hissed at how your teeth slightly scraped his dick. You choked on it, but he was unfazed by it, continuing to thrust into your throat, making tears fall down your cheeks.

“I knew you could be my good girl.” He groaned, praising you with each of his hard thrusts into your mouth. Your breathing was shallow, and you tried to get as much air as you could. He was moaning loudly, the wet sounds of his cock slipping in and out of your mouth, covered by your saliva made him even more aroused and hungry for you.

“You just need a bit of a re-education.” He was getting lost in the pleasure your mouth was providing him, and you were deprived of the air you needed. Your hand hit his pelvis when you thought you’re going to pass out soon.

“Just a moment more, baby. I know you can take it.” He said through gritted teeth. Jungkook was panting loudly, mixing it with loud moans of your name.

“Fuck, Y/N. You’re my heaven.” Your nails were scratching his abdomen, trying to break free, but his hold was too strong. You were drooling all over his cock, and your hand started to spin from the lack of oxygen and how quickly your head was bobbing.

He was getting dangerously close and his sloppy movements reflected that. He managed to pull one last thrust before he was cumming down your throat. He was letting his dick soften, pressed on your tongue while the hot semen was springing out of his tip.

“Swallow.”

The night wore on, shadows dancing on the walls as you lay there, pressed to his chest, his hand limply laying on your hip, contemplating the surreal turn you took.

If anything arose in you during the intercourse you wish you would wipe out of your mind, it was a determination to break free from the suffocating grasp of the penthouse.

Jungkook laid beside you, his breathing steady, a façade of tranquillity painted on his features. As he drifted into a seemingly serene slumber, you waited for the right moment to seize the opportunity.

When you were certain he was deeply asleep, you carefully extricated yourself from his embrace, a shiver running down your spine as you tiptoed through the room.

The moon cast a pale glow through the sheer curtains, guiding your movements as you tiptoed across the room. Your hand grasped the cold doorknob, the soft creaking of the door threatened to betray your escape. Your body frozen in time, your pupils shaking, fearing what happens if he wakes up. You wait a minute to make sure he is not coming to drag you back before you open the door in one swift movement.

You rethought the tasks you listed in your plan. Find the portfolio and get the fuck out as quick as possible. Everything else is replaceable for you. The mindset that the portfolio is the only key to all your problems, remained.

The adrenaline surged through your veins, the pulse of your heart echoing in the quiet hallway you walked through to get to the front of the penthouse.

He never took you upstairs, therefore you assumed that’s where he must’ve hidden it.

You approached the staircase, the carpet soft beneath your feet. The air seemed to grow heavier with every ascending step. The possibility of him waking up was not zero.

As you reached the upper level, you noticed the subtle shift in the ambiance. The hallway, adorned with pieces of art that whispered tales of luxury, and all his awards he won during his career, displayed to show his success. You passed several open doors, a home recording studio in one of them, be ridden of what you were looking for.

The hallway led you towards a set of double doors. That must be it. The doors creaked open, your gaze scanning for any sign of your portfolio. Your eyes flickering between the meticulously arranged accolades and the sprawling desk. He must be using this room as his office.

The seconds stretched into minutes, the urgency escalating with each passing heartbeat. You began with the drawers of the glass table, trying to be as quiet as possible. You cannot afford to cause commotion.

Anxiety wrapped around you, a vice tightening with every passing moment. You went through the library too, looked under every surface, you could not find it.

With a deep breath, you steadied yourself. There must be another place he could have hidden it. Your eyes fell upon the stack of papers, leaning your head to the side you examined the tabloid underneath with your face on it.

You fished it out in mere seconds, eyeing it unbelievably. If you were on the cover of a tabloid you would for sure know that. But you were not aware that your face appeared in Star magazine, right beside Jungkook. “Jungkook’s Mysterious Muse Revealed!” the headline screamed at you.

It was not only you after all. Society has convinced Jungkook that you two are sort of an item. A clandestine affair, a narrative spun by the society, linking your name with Jungkook’s in a tale of intrigue.

It was dated right when you started working on Klein’s campaign, back in April. It is almost the end of November now, and this is the first time you’re seeing this. You couldn’t fathom how deeply the web had been woven around you. The urgency of the situation intensified, and you combed through every conceivable hiding spot.

A sudden noise from downstairs snapped your attention. Fear gripped you, and your heart raced. Did he wake up? The urgency of the situation intensified, and you felt the weight of the clock ticking against you.

You sobbed and when you went to rub your eyes, they fell upon the other room diagonally from the one you were searching now. The doors were slightly ajar and you could see soft shades of colours within. In a last-ditch effort you marched towards it.

But ever stepping inside you regretted. The whole scenery that was revealed once you opened the door swiftly caught your breath in your throat.

The soft shades of colours painted a haunting picture—a baby room, unfinished and untouched by time. The sight startled you, sending a shiver down your spine. This can’t be.

“No..” You whispered to yourself, panicking. Your hands found their place in your hair. He is one delusional man. There is no other explanation, he is sick in the head if he thinks he is going to baby trap you.

A sense of dread overwhelmed you, and in your shock, you stumbled over something on the floor, hitting your head in the process. You groaned from the pain, forgetting that this commotion must have been loud enough for Jungkook to wake up.

As you rolled to the side, your eyes widened in disbelief. The portfolio was taped to the bottom of a cabinet. Without a second thought, you ripped it free, the sound echoing in the quiet room.

The rain outside intensified, a symphony of droplets against the windows. With the portfolio clutched in your hands, you ran down the stairs, right to the front door you prayed would not be locked. Would he be that careless? Yes. The degree of his mental instability was enough for him to believe that you are his and you would not think of running. He cut off every single option you had.

First, by making sure that your former employer would get to know you’re planning to leave the brand, enough for them to let you go. Second, he successfully obtained your portfolio that you were stupid enough to not make a copy of, which resulted in not meeting the deadline with Guess and losing that job opportunity too.

Third, he did not expect you to not stay the first you went to his penthouse but he was determined to go to extremes. So, every single fashion brand that had department stores in New York and in the rest of the world, backlisted you. No job application you sent, assistant buyer, a visibly lower position to what you had at Klein, would be turned down.

Fourth, make sure your landlord has already a tenant replacing you, ready to pay double for your apartment if they can move in as soon as possible.

That you’re alienated from your parents played his cards right and he never wished anything bad upon someone else, but how he thanked God that your friends have either too small apartments for another person to live in or they were struggling even more than you were. But lucky for you. He was right there, waiting for your call.

The handle felt too cold in your hand once you pushed the front door open merging the distance to the elevators, you were madly pushing the down button.

The seconds felt like an eternity as you waited for the elevator. Your breaths came in short, erratic bursts, mirroring the frenetic pace of your heart. Quickly stepping inside the metal box you heard it.

“Y/N?!” Your heart skipped a beat at the sound of his voice. His eyes momentarily locked with yours. You were clutching your portfolio to your chest, the other hand pressing the close button, praying it will close faster.

He must have heard you running down the stairs, or perhaps when you tripped and fell. You even forgot that you’ve hurt yourself. The adrenaline was overshadowing the pain.

“Come back right now!” He was mad, that much you could tell.

With the last determined push, you closed the door on him, severing the visual link between you. Letting out a relieving breath, you knew that this is far from being over. The elevator descended, carrying you away from the penthouse.

He cannot make it all the way down in time before you’ll disappear from the area. You prayed, he would not.

The lobby welcomed you as the doors opened, the room blurred as you stormed towards the exit, your heart pounding in rhythm with the rain. You burst into the rain-soaked night. Clutching the book tightly, a surge of triumph coursed through your veins.

The cold drops pelted against your skin. The relentless downpour soaking your clothes and hair. Running towards the street, you waved at the cars, hoping a taxi would stop.

It took a minute for some yellow car to appear at the curb, not wasting time, you ran towards it.

A smile appeared on your face after a long time. You did not know where you’re going, nor what you’re going to do next but Jungkook was never supposed to be your option and now you got the chance to choose differently or not? This is your second chance, and you’re willing to take it.

Your hand touched the handle of the yellow vehicle, opening the door and planning to leap inside as quickly as possible.

A strong tattooed hand closed abruptly. You gulped down an enormous lump in your throat, almost not breathing. How could this happen? It was mere minutes. Did he run the stairs? Did you take too long to catch a cab? Should you just run as far as possible?

Every single thing you could have done differently would not change the outcome it seems. And every single thing worked out in his favour, again.

His palm pressed on the taxi door firm, you could not open it anymore nor he would let you hop in the front seat. Your heart pounded in your chest, the tension and fear to face him was killing you. The portfolio now felt like a burden, if you make peace with losing it and your career, would you avoid this?

You could feel his eyes burning holes to the back of your head.

“I will not go back.” You said, voice resolute, but inside you were shaking. You could feel his hot breath on your cold skin, similarly you could feel his body pressing to your back. Once he reached your ear, you felt his lips mere inches from it, whispering.

“You will.”

I N T E R L O G U E

Jungkook settled into the plush leather chair after he finished carefully unpacking all your belongings, believing he is helping you to settle down. His fingers deftly dialled his mother’s number. As the phone rang, he gazed out over the city lights sprawling beneath him, a realm he had conquered with ruthless determination.

His new song, obviously written about you, was an enormous hit, granting him another Grammy nomination. But what was his success for when he did not have his love to share it with?

He smiled to himself, he got you. After long months of chasing you, then giving you the space you needed to realise he is your best shot in this world, you’re finally where you belong. Next to him.

The familiar voice of his mother greeted him, warm and comforting.

“Eomma—” Jungkook said, his tone affectionate.

“Jungkook, dear! How is my baby?” His mother’s voice held a blend of joy and concern.

“I’m doing well, Eomma. I have some news to share,” he said, his eyes glancing toward the bedroom where Y/N lay, unaware of the conversation taking place.

“Oh? Do tell,” his mother replied, anticipation evident in her voice. Jungkook leaned back, a subtle smile playing on his lips.

“Y/N moved in.” His mother’s delight was palpable through the phone. Jungkook let her know the very moment he stepped into your office that he is very much interested in you. That he met the special one he wants to grow old with.

As he spoke, he subtly weaved a narrative of love and destiny, carefully crafting the tale of their supposed connection. His mother listened attentively, hanging onto every word.

“Are you going to propose over Christmas like you wanted, Kookie?” His mother gasped with excitement. Jungkook glanced at the bedroom once more, satisfaction settling within him. The diamond ring well hidden deep inside of the closet. But that’s given and final in his mind, there’s something more he selfishly wants. Not only will it make sure you won’t be able to leave him any more, it will give you reason to grow to love him back. After all, he would be the only person who you can grow old with.

“We’re trying for a baby, Eomma.”

©pennyellee. please do not repost

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lots of love, 𝖕𝖊𝖓𝖓𝖞𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖊

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yandere-writer-momo · 7 months

Text

Yandere Short Stories: Love Me More

Yandere Supervillian x Afab Reader x Ex Superhero

In honor of spooky month, you’re all getting some of my old original thriller works. Enjoy

8.4 k words

Buy Me a Coffee, Please?

Crescent shaped wounds formed on the palms of soft (skin color) hands while (eye color) eyes stared holes into the tv and the daily broadcast. Blood dripping from the young woman’s lips from the force of her biting them.

“Today’s broadcast starts off with the news of the blooming relationship between the superhero Hydro and Heroine Terra. The two started off as partners on missions before taking their relationship to the next level! Who knew such chemistry existed between the two?!” A reporter stated while showing videos of the blonde haired hero kissing a pink haired woman. The two did look good together but there was only one problem. Hydro, no… Reign, was (your name)’s boyfriend.

Reign had always told her not to use the tv remote but she was just so bored in the house. Ever since powers had started appearing seven years ago from a mysterious storm, Reign had been keeping her locked up in their shared house. The blonde had insisted it was for her utmost safety, but now (your name) felt like it was all just a rouse to keep her in the dark on his affair.

A scream left (your name)’s throat as she began pressing all the tv buttons in frustration before throwing the tv remote away from the couch. A small thud echoing in the room while the tv screen turned black.

The young woman began to shake as she tried to conceal her sobs while she patiently waited for her boyfriend to come home. Her form shaking as she gazed numbly at the blood dripping from her hands.

She had waited an entire week for him to return from his latest mission. She had been worried sick about him since he hadn’t answered her calls or texts asking how he is or what he was doing. And now (your name) knew why. The true reason in why Reign never replied… was because he had another woman in his life.

Seven years down the drain. She has always wondered why he hadn’t taken her on dates in the last two years since he had risen to stardom. Why he wasn’t as affectionate before or as talkative. Why he never held her or told her he loved her as much anymore.

Perhaps some part of herself had deluded her into believing it was just a phase. Never in her life would she have thought she would be the phase. This was no Superman and Louis Lane love story. This was real life.

Reign would never want to be associated with a girl who had a low grade power like hers. What good was a healing power if she couldn’t even heal a partner who was never injured anymore?

(Your name) and him would never get married or have the happy ending she had always hoped to have since her rough childhood. It would only be Reign and Terra’s. The perfect super couple that took the nation by storm.

(Your name) sighed, a few tears falling down her face. She had thought his sudden avoidance of her was due to the high stress of his work. So she had given him space to organize his thoughts and feelings. The young woman had tried so hard to comfort him with his favorite foods, writing him notes everyday, and making sure their home was always clean. And for what? For him to cheat on her and lie about it? Did he even deserve a good bye?

(Your name) thought for a moment before releasing a sad sigh. Reign truly didn’t deserve anymore than she could possibly offer him. He didn’t deserve a good bye. Especially not when he was the one who left first.

(Your name) knew what she needed to do. It was time to let go before she became even more of a mess. But first, she should clean up her hands and lips.

The young woman walked to the bathroom and began rinsing her hands, the hot water stinging the self inflicted wounds lightly. Dull (eye color) orbs staring at her reflection as she released a sigh. She practically looked like a corpse with the bags under her eyes. When was the last time she smiled anyways? Has it truly been a year since she truly felt anything?

A light green glow left her hands as she healed her broken skin. It was the least she could do so no one thought she was insane when she walked out of this house with a duffle bag.

(Your name) shut off the water before heading into her separate room to pack her things. The couple hadn’t slept together in months and it really took a toll on her. It was pathetic just how far she had let herself wallow in self loathing and pity.

(Eye color) eyes frowned at the photo of a blonde male smiling as he held her younger self. A (skin color) hand reaching out and placing the picture face down. Her hands quickly facing all the photos of them face down so she didn’t have to see his face while she packed. She didn’t want to be reminded of the love they once shared.

Such a shame the fame had gotten to him. Reign was her first love, her first for so many things. But it was time to put him away, just like he did to her.

(Your name) smiled sadly before packing up what few belongings she had, making sure to leave whatever Reign had gotten her behind. She didn’t want any reminders of him and his broken promises any longer.

“Good bye, Reign.” (Your name) whispered as she left the empty house. “I wish you happiness.”

Bars were never really her scene and yet here she was lightly sipping on some Scotch. The bitter alcohol stinging her throat while her eyes scanned the crowd.

The scent of sweat and liquor causing her nose to crinkle in disgust. Just what I’m earth was she thinking coming to a place like this?

This was the nearest bar to the cheap hotel she was staying at for the time being before she found a job to make enough money to move to another city.

A sigh escaping her throat. Her mind was still in shambles and a complete mess. Even this small glass of liquor couldn’t satisfy the lonely ache in her chest.

The young woman raised her hand up to attract the bar tender. “I’d like to close my tab please.”

The walk to the hotel wasn’t too bad. Just pass by a few alleyways and she’d be right there in her tiny room. Hopefully there weren’t any roaches in her bed…

A sudden groan reached her ears, causing the young woman to freeze in place. (Your name) turning her head left towards the alleyway in fright. The young woman trembling as her mind began to race.

She was going to be stabbed wasn’t she? Young women always got abducted or stabbed… or raped at night. And what could she do to defend herself?! She didn’t even have a taser-

“Please…” a deep voice barely whispered while another groan left the alleyway. “Please help me…”

The young woman began to pace as she tried to sort her thoughts. Her mind was telling her no but her heart clenched at the thought of someone truly needing help.

“Screw it.” (Your name) slowly made her was into the alleyway, her (eye color) eyes nervously scanning the alleyways.

“Hello?” (Eye color) orbs widened as she stared at the male before her in shock. Deep gashed covering his body while ragged breaths left the male’s throat. The young woman quickly rushing over as she began trying to talk to the young man. “Oh lord, you need a hospital-“

The male reached a hand out, blood now staining the white sleeves of her coat. Red eyes meeting (eye color) orbs for the first time.

“N-no hospital…” the male rasped while his eyes gazed at here in desperation. “P-please… put me out of my misery-“

“I-I can heal you!” The young woman quickly leaned forward while a green glow surrounded her hands while she tried to heal as many of his wounds as she could. “Please don’t die-“

“It’s okay… I don’t have anything to live for.” There was so much blood. Whatever or whoever had wounded him, had truly wanted him dead.

Tears began to gather in her eyes while she tried to desperately heal the large gashes on the man before her. Just why did her powers have to be so weak?

“Please, whatever may be out there… I just want to save this one person. Please…” tears fell down her face as the male began to slump over ever so slightly. “I just want to save someone so I can have purpose again.”

The male’s eyes widened as the green glow began to become brighter while his wounds quickly began closing. A warmth filling his body and soul while she worked her magic. The young woman beginning to slump as a wave of exhaustion hit her.

“Hey-“ the male quickly caught her before she fell on the pavement. His heart drumming in his chest as he realized she had passed out.

Healing abilities were so incredibly rare this day and age. They were usually killed off so they wouldn’t interfere with the hospitals since they could heal for free… so just how on earth did she come to find him? Wait a moment…

The dark haired male smiled softly as he studied her pretty face, his face lighting up in recognition. It was (your name)… She was still so pretty and small… would she be willing to be his new purpose now that she was all alone?

Did she still remember him from high school? She had always been such a sweet girl, such a shame she chose Reign Huston over him. He could’ve give her the world… but now he could! He truly could give her the world… or at least what would be left of it when he was done with it.

It must be fate that had brought them together! The string of fate must be tied tightly to their fingers, uniting them in a time of hardship once again.

The male slowly rose up. The dark haired man carry her out of the alleyway with a smile on his face.

“You’ll be my reason to live again and I’ll be yours.” The male waved his right hand, a Violet portal appearing before the two. “My true reason on why I want to burn this world to the ground. Nothing will ever hurt you or I ever again.”

The poor girl has no idea that the man she just saved was a monster… a monster she had once unknowingly escaped from in the past…

Reign finally arrived home after not receiving any texts or calls from (your name). Which was strange for her since she always clung to him whenever he left for long periods of time.

Maybe she realized what he had to do in order to crawl up the ranks of superheroes. Reign couldn’t afford for the public to know of their relationship. It was dangerous to be with someone who couldn’t protect themselves.

It would be nerve racking to be seen with a girl who had no name or strong ability to protect herself since he was such a well known hero now. Reign was just lucky Terra was in the same boat as him. With the pink haired woman by his side on the media, he’d be able to have the perfect looking life. A life where (your name) would never be endangered or discovered.

Reign had felt terrible distancing himself from her but he had felt so guilty for pretending to be with someone else. It was what his agency wanted for more media coverage. Yet he knew this was all for the best if he wanted enough money to move the two of them far from anyone and everything.

“I’m home-“ silence greeted Reign when he walked into the empty house. His brow furrowing in confusion at the eerie silence. “Hello?”

The blonde male began to walk around the house, his blue eyes narrowing in concern. Where was she? (Your name) always greeted him when he came home.

“(Your name)?” Reign reached her bedroom door, the male reaching a hand up to knock on the smooth, white wood. “I’m home-“

The door creaked open before he could even knock, the male’s blue eyes widening at the sight of a bare room with all of the pictures placed down. The room looked as if it was ransacked in a hurry.

“(Your name)?!” Reign quickly entered the room as his blue eyes began to scan for any sign of his girlfriend. “(Your name)?!”

Reign then began to run room to room as he called out for her.

“(Your name)?! Please answer me!” Reign began to dash to the living room as tears began to gather in his eyes. She couldn’t have left right? Didn’t she know how dangerous it was out there?

The male took a step near the tv, his foot landing on top of the remote, causing the tv screen to light up. A loop of the broadcast from the other day beginning to talk.

‘Today’s broadcast starts off with the news of the blooming relationship between the superhero Hydro and Heroine Terra. The two started off as partners on missions before taking their relationship to the next level! Who knew such chemistry existed between the two?!’

Reign’s eyes widened in shock as he felt his chest tighten. He had forgotten to hide the remote… she wasn’t supposed to know.

Reign choked back a sob as he realized what he had done. Oh god… she left him.

Reign began to freak out. (Your name) had a healing power and that was considered illegal since the hospitals didn’t want any competition. What if she was killed or kidnapped for her powers?

Reign took a deep breath before trying to calm himself. He was going to have to find her and explain everything.

Maybe he’d have to use some of his old skills back when he first had gotten (your name) into his arms… it shouldn’t be hard to hack into the city’s traffic cameras. One of them had to have had caught something of her. He was sure of it.

“Don’t worry, (your name). I’ll find you.”

Light trickled down from a window. It’s bright rays shining on (your name)’s face, the young woman groaning as she began to stir awake. Her brows furrowing at the unfamiliar room she resided in. Where in earth was she?

(Eye color) orbs examined the modern gothic room. The young woman turning her head around to see that the king sized bed was in the center of the room behind the giant windows of a balcony. Green foliage of exotic plants hanging from the ceilings, the giants leaves covering some of the light from the full moon. Long black and red candles sat on shelves on the black walls, illuminating the room in a comforting manner.

“Are you awake?” A deep voice asked, the young woman turning to gaze at the door frame. A tall male with long black hair stood in the doorframe. His red eyes staring at her in adoration. “You’ve been out like a light for almost two days now.”

The male stalked forward slowly like a predator. His red eyes never leaving (your name)’s. A small smile slowly crawling on his plump lips while his eyes became half lidded. The male bending down to sit beside her in the bed.

“You saved my life.” The male then gently grasped her hand in his much larger one, placing a gentle kiss on the back of it. “My name is Dante Hawkthorne. May I have the pleasure of knowing your name?”

(Your name) blinked a few times in disbelief. The man she had saved was one of the most influential businessmen of the century. Just what on earth was he doing in an alleyway? Could he have been jumped? Or maybe he was doing something sleazy?

(Your name) shook her head to clear her thoughts. It’s not like it was her place to judge him since she was also on the sleazier part of town.

“My name is (your full name).” The young woman gave him a soft smile, causing Dante’s cheeks to blush.

“That’s a beautiful name for a beautiful girl…” the young man then slowly pulled away from her as he stood up to his full height. “Would you care to have dinner with me?”

(Your name) raised a brow at the arm he offered for her to grab. It wouldn’t hurt to indulge in his offer would it?

“That sounds lovely, Dante.” The male’s breath hitched for a moment before he quickly composed himself.

“How does (favorite meal) sound?” The two began making their way towards the dining hall. Each one exchanging small talk.

Turns out Dante was only three years her senior and he owned a lot of morgues and graveyards in the city. She would’ve never thought he’d be the type involved with the dead so it was pretty interesting to see and hear about.

Yet she couldn’t help but have a deep gut feeling that there was something off about him.

Perhaps it was the way his eyes lingered on her a little too much for comfort or the way he couldn’t keep his hands to himself. His large hands constantly rubbing against hers as they made their way towards the dining hall in the long hallways.

“Are you alright, Dante?” The male simply gave her a soft smile as he stared at her lips intently.

“Yes. I cannot thank you enough for what you did for me back there. Perhaps it has made me enamored with you.”

“Pardon?”

“How do I put this?” Dante tapped a pale finger to his light pink lips before giving her a flirtatious smirk. “You enthrall me.”

(Your name) blinked a few times at the oddly flirtatious male before giving him a nervous smile. She had never been the type of girl who had gotten the attention of men like this before. What on earth was she supposed to do?

“Um… I’m flattered?” A deep chuckle broke her from her nervous thoughts.

“You’re quite cute, miss (your name).” The young woman could only chuckle nervously while she turned her head towards the ground. Hopefully he would let her leave soon after this meal. She really needed to get out of this city as soon as possible.

“Um… thank you.” The young woman perked up at the sight of the long table in the center of the grand, gothic dining hall. “Oh wow. Your home is so lovely.”

(Eye color) orbs gazed intently at the various portraits on the walls. A shiver rolling down her spine when her eyes met one of a young woman that looked eerily similar to herself. And did that painting just blink?

(Your name) nearly jumped out of her shoes at the sudden creak the chair made while Dante pulled it out of place. The brunette giving her a soft smile, as if to reassure her that he only had benevolent intentions towards her.

“Thank you, Dante.” (Your name) gently took a seat. Dante quickly sliding her into her spot before taking a seat beside her.

A group of masked butlers quickly scurried into the room with various bottles of expensive looking liquor in their black gloved hands. Which seemed odd to the young woman that she couldn’t see their face or hands.

“Would you care for some wine? I have all kinds of flavors and colors. Whatever you may like.” Dante smiled, gesturing his hand to all of the bottles the butlers held.

“Oh… I would like some (favorite wine).”

“Excellent choice, my dear.” Dante then snapped his fingers, one of the butlers gracefully walking forward. The red number one reflecting off the black wooden mask on his face. His feet moving in an uncomfortably stiff way that was almost unnatural. It was if the butler was a doll.

With perfect poise, the butler’s posture never grew slack as he poured the (wine color) wine into the glass in front of her. The butler than quickly snapped to attention once the wine was poured, giving the two a low bow.

“Thank you, Henry.” The butler then made his way back to the other line of butlers while another stepped forward to pour a deep red wine into Dante’s cup, the dark haired male giving her a smile. The red number seven was on this butlers head, but that wasn’t what made the hair stand up on the back of (your name)’s neck. It was the fact that she couldn’t see the butler’s eyes, almost as if he didn’t have any.

“(Your name). Are you ready for the meal?” Dante asked the young woman, snapping her from her musings. The young woman giving Dante a nervous smile.

“That sounds lovely.” Dante snapped his fingers. The butlers stepping back to make room for the black masked cooks to make their way towards the couple. The numbers one, two, and three on their masks this time. Yet unlike the butlers, the numbers on their foreheads were a dull yellow rather than a deep red.

The tallest one, three, pushed a golden cart that had two golden covers atop of the golden plates. The shortest one, number one, then perfectly placed the meals in front of the two. Just as stiffly as the butler who had poured their wine into their drinks.

“Thank you.” (Your name) told the butler, who didn’t respond, causing Dante to narrow his eyes.

“She told you thank you, Ayden.” Dante hissed, the cook hurriedly giving the young woman a bow. A smile now in place on Dante’s lips. “Thank you, Ayden.”

The cook with the number two then stepped forward to hand (your name) and Dante a glass of water. The three cooks giving them a curt bow before pushing their golden cart away and back to the kitchen.

(Your name) pulled the lid off, her eye brows furrowing at what lord under the cover… this was (favorite food)… how did Dante know her favorite meal?

“What’s the matter, (your name)? Is the food not to your liking?” Dante asked with furrows brows, the male clenching his fists tightly. “I can ask the cooks to remake it. Is it not (hot/ cold) enough?”

“Oh it’s not that, Dante.” (Your name) gave the dark haired male a reassuring smile, causing him to unclench his fist. “This is my favorite food… it was just interesting on how this is what they served me is all.”

“Oh!” Dante removed the lid on his food to reveal the same meal. “It’s my favorite food as well!”

(Your name) sighed in relief as she took a bite from the meal. This was probably the best she’s ever had of it. “This is delicious, Dante.”

“I only have the best in my home.” Dante smiled, the male then grabbing his glass as he raised it. “A toast to you, my savior.”

(Your name) nervously raised the glass before clinking it with Dante’s. The two taking a swig. The taste was a little off, which may be due to how expensive it looked. But other than that, the wine was excellent.

“Is the wine also to you liking?”

“It’s very good.” Dante smiled as he intently watched (your name) eat her food.

A sudden wave of tiredness swept over the young woman, which was odd.

“Are you alright, (your name)?” Dante asked, his brows furrowing in worry as he rose from his seat.

“Oh I am just a little tired is all.” (Your name) gave Dante a reassuring smile. “It feels terribly rude to be so tired when I’m sharing a meal with you.”

“Nonsense. You can spend the night here.” Dante smiled, causing (your name) to grow goosebumps at the strange look in his eyes. (Your name) raised her hands up while she tried to think of an excuse to leave. Something felt off.

“Oh but I don’t want to be a burden-“ Dante’s hands clasped her.

“Oh what nonsense. You saved my life!” Dante flashed (your name) a charming smile, the young man then rose up from his seat. Dante held out a large, pale hand to her. “I can escort you to your room if you are not comfortable walking alone. Tomorrow I can also arrange a maid or two to prepare a bath for you until you feel better.”

(Your name) hesitantly took Dante’s hand, the young man helping her up from her chair. His red eyes never leaving her form.

Dante snapped his fingers, nodding his head at cook one and two to gather up the plates.

“Perhaps tomorrow, in the morning we could have a nice breakfast in the garden?” Dante smiled, which caused (your name) to nervously giggle. “It’d be like a date-“

“Oh I just got out of a relationship so I’m not sure if I feel comfortable going so fast yet-“ (your name) shivered at the twisted smile that flashed on Dante’s lips for the briefest of moments.

“I’m a patient man, (your name). I can wait.” Dante led her towards her room, his eyes carefully observing her to make sure she didn’t pass out too early. Soon she would be completely in his grasp and assimilated in her new role.

Pale fingers traced circles on (your name)’s smooth skin, the fingers slowly working their way up to her (hair type) locks.

“You’re still so beautiful even after all these years.” Dante smiled dreamily before grasping small section of her hair and brining it to his lips. Dante pressed his soft lips to the hair before taking in a deep inhale of her scent. The male moaning in ecstasy.

How many years has it been since he’s last touched her? Seven? Eight?

The male shivered to himself when (your name) released a soft breath while she slept. Her lips looked so soft… it would be okay if he snuck just a small kiss on her, right?

Dante gulped while his palms began to sweat profusely in anticipation. His teenage self had always dreamed of touching her. Of being with her… of being inside of her.

Dante wanted to be inside her body, mind, and soul. He wanted to be the thought, no, the being that never left her mind. The one she would call out for at night as he pleasured her night after night, day after day. He wanted her to be all of his just like he was always all of hers.

Dante slowly swung his body on top of hers. His form straddling hers while his body looked over hers. His red eyes almost glowing in the dark like a predator of the night.

Dante interlaced his fingers with her hands as he held her hands above her head. His long black locks hanging over his face, the locks tickling her skin.

“I have always loved you… it’s meant to be, (your name)…” Dante then leaned forward, his warm breath fanning her face. His eyes becoming heavy lidded with lust. “You were always so sweet to me… it was so hard to live without you for all these years…”

“But it’s worth all the pain and suffering I had to go through now that we’ve crossed paths again…” Dante released a soft chuckle before leaning his face just an inch from hers. “I wonder if you’ll ever know who I am unless I show you a picture from the past… I wouldn’t mind either way because the face you have now is custom made just for you.”

Dante’s lips then gently pressed against hers. His breathing becoming erratic when he immediately pulled away. His eyes now completely consumed with lust, his hips slowly grinding into hers. A low moan escaping his lips, the male biting them to prevent anymore sounds from leaving him.

“The doctor said the drugs were pretty strong so I could kiss and touch you more… I could kiss and touch you all over.” Dante then pressed his lips to her lips again and again. The young man moving his lips all over her face and shoulder in a sort of worshipping manner. “You’re mine now. Mine. Mine. Mine.”

“So won’t you love me more than him now?”

Dante glanced at the clock before sighing at the time. It was almost midnight now. He should probably let her get some rest.

Red eyes took a longing look at her pretty hairs, his eyes flashing with desire yet again.

“I’ll just take a small amount of hair… you won’t even notice.” Dante pulled a knife from his pocket with a smile on his face. “I’ll add it to my collection.”

“Welcome home, (your name).”

“Shit!” Reign hissed as he slammed his fist into the wall of the seedy motel. (Your name) hasn’t returned to her motel room in a few days now. Could something have happened to her?

Reign placed his head in his hands as he sighed in aggravation. It was highly unlikely anyone would have her. If anyone… no, no. It couldn’t possibly be that weirdo from high school… what was his name again?

Dante Noxwell. He was always hovering around wherever (your name) was when they were in school, picking up items she dropped like some sort of pigeon hungry for scraps. He was never a very good looking fellow either with his hunched over back and scarred face.

Yet that never stopped (your name) from being kind to the freak. She always sent a smile his way or laughed at his stupid jokes… Reign knew Dante coveted her. Reign always watched Dante’s red eyes stare at (your name) longingly, almost as if he thought he was worthy of her.

It disgusted Reign to no end. Dante’s eyes, Dante’s smiles, and most of all, his audacity to even breathe the same air as (your name), pissed him off to no end.

No one deserved to be around her, no one but him. Nobody could protect (your name) as well as Reign did. It was Reign’s own fault for being careless and leaving the tv remote in a place she could find it. She just didn’t understand the lengths he had to go through to protect her.

Once he found her though, he would be sure to lock her up even better this time. He had gotten too comfortable with time but he’d have to improve where he failed.

Reign swore to himself he’d never fail (your name) ever again. She would never, ever escape from him again. Never.

Reign stormed out of the room, his head deep in his thoughts. Perhaps he could try Dante’s address… it wouldn’t hurt to try would it?

Reign placed his hand in his pockets. Completely unaware of the security camera focused on him…

(Your name) groaned, the dancing dreams flickering away when her eyes fluttered opened to see the bright sun light that lit up the room. Had she truly passed out?

(Your name) glanced around the room in confusion. How I’m earth did she get back to her room and what was going on?

“Hello-“

The bedroom door creaked open revealing a tall feminine figure. The maid wore a white mask with the number seven on it in pink, entered the room with perfect posture. The door loudly shutting behind her.

The maid gave (your name) a curtsy before grabbing an outfit from the closet beside the bed. Her white gloves were completely spotless and she had such a strange scent to her…

“Oh, you don’t have to-“ (your name)’s eyes widened at all the clothes that were in her size. How on earth did they have her size? “How do you have my size-“

The maid gently handed (your name) the clothes, the young woman grabbing her hand in haste.

“Wait-“ the maid pulled her arm away, the glove slipping off her hand a bit to reveal greenish tinted skin. Alarm bells ringing in (your name)’s head at the sight. “What-“

The maid quickly pulled up her glove before bowing. The maid quickly exited the room, (your name)’s mouth hanging open in surprise.

What on earth was wrong with the maid’s skin?

“Are you decent yet, (your name)?” Dante’s low voice from the other side of the door requested politely. “I’ll escort you to breakfast on the patio personally.”

“Not yet!” (Your name) bit at her nails. The young woman didn’t really want to stay at Dante’s home any longer. Something felt completely off about the place and she did not want to spend a minute longer in here.

(Your name) nervously fidgeted with her hands. She was going to have to sneak out at night in order to get away from him. And hopefully everyone would be asleep by then.

Dante frowned at (your name). He could tell what the young woman was thinking and he didn’t like it one bit. Looks like he’d have to teach her a lesson earlier than expected.

For now, he’s play along. He would treat her like a princess and make sure not to slip up in front of her.

A soft jingle came from Dante's phone, the male quickly looking at the device in annoyance. Yet his expression quickly changed to joy at what he saw.

“Oh what is it, Dante?” (Your name) asked, a fake smile on her pretty lips.

“Oh nothing too crazy…” Dante gave (your name) a bright jovial smile. “Just found out I finally caught the rat in my trap is all. That vermin has been plaguing me for quite some time.”

(Your name) nodded, completely oblivious to what Dante had truly meant. But that was okay. Dante didn’t think she’d like that he had referred to Reign as a rat.

Yet she didn’t know that Dante had purposely put out the wrong address for people to find him at if they looked hard enough. It was always funny to see his enemies in the graveyard they would soon be buried in.

Dante cleared his throat before gleaming at the woman beside him. She had no idea how elated he truly was with this news. One more body to join his collection.

Dante smiled at all of the security footage on his computer screen. His face twisting into a grin as he spotted Reign entering the hotel where (your name) was last seen.

How silly of Reign to not think that Dante would finally have the upper hand this time.

A deep chuckle left Dante’s throat, his eyes turning to the other monitor to see all the angles of (your name)’s bedroom. A dreamy sigh leaving his throat.

“Soon you’ll be all mine. And this time with no interruptions.” Dante leaned his cheek against the screen that showed (your name) sleeping in her bed. The dark haired man gently kissing the screen before releasing a dreamy sigh. “It’ll all go the way it was supposed to the first time.”

(Your name) wandered around the halls, being sure to duck into the corners to avoid being spotted by the workers of the estate.

She had to get out of here as quickly as she could. It just didn’t feel safe anymore. It has already been almost two weeks since she had been trapped in this estate.

Anything was better than being trapped like a bird in a cage again.

(Eye color) eyes peered around the corners to make sure no one would spot her before she crossed over to the other hall. So far, no luck in finding an exit.

Tap. Tap. Tap. (Your name) paused in her steps, her eyes widening at the sight of a masked worker with a blue number, eighteen, on their forehead that strolled adjacent to the hall she was on. The young woman gulping at the rifle strapped to their back. Why on earth would a worker need a rifle?

(Eye color) orbs quickly scanned for a place to hid. A black door sat to her right.

As quiet as a mouse, the young woman tiptoed to the door. Her body shaking in fear of being discovered by the worker.

(Skin color) hands shook as she turned the handle. The woman rushed into the door, the door softly clicking shut behind her. A sigh of relief leaving her throat.

(Your name) turned around and leaned her back against the door. Her (eye color) orbs widening at shock in what the room held.

The room stretched in a barely illuminated hall. A large portrait covered with a red drape sat on the end of the hall as well as a light switch. Each side of the wall appeared to be lined with a pattern of mirrors and portraits of some sort.

What on earth could that possibly be? What were truly on those walls?

Before (your name) could stop herself, her feet wandered forwards towards the covered up portrait. As if she were a piece of metal drawn to a powerful magnet.

She needed to know what was behind that drape. Perhaps it was the truth of this entire situation. Her limbs continued to move on their own. Her hands reaching out to lightly touch the drape that held the portrait.

With a sharp tug, the drape fell to the ground, all the lights turning on in the room to reveal the entire hall. The grotesque face of a boy from her past staring back at her. The scarred up face of her schoolmate stared back at her with his dull red eyes.

“Oh my god…” (your name) took a step back before falling onto her bottom. It all made sense now on why she felt so uncomfortable.

(Your name) then turned to gaze down the lit up hall. Bile riding in her throat at the various portraits of Dante’s face and body changing over the years. Yet it was one that stuck out to her the most…

It was the small picture of Reign that sat in the corner of each portrait. Was Dante trying to be Reign?

(Your name) quickly rose up to her feet. She had to leave. She had to get out of here. It wasn’t safe here. No… it was never safe here.

(Your name) quickly dashed down the hall, only to see one of the guards standing in front of the doorway. A rotting stench coming from him.

“Please move-“ the guard pushed his mask aside to reveal the green skin of a walking corpse. His eyes, nose, and tongue completely missing.

(Your name) screamed loudly as the guard came charging at her. An inhuman snarl leaving the guard’s throat.

But a swift kick came to the guard’s side. Dante standing over the guard with a disgusted look on his face.

“What a useless puppet you are.” Dante then held out his hand, the corpse instantly turning to dust. “He didn’t scare you too much, did he darling?”

(Your name) froze at the familiar nickname. Her whole body convulsing into shivers.

“I’m glad you know who I am now!” Dante smiled brightly as if he hadn’t just turned a corpse to dust a second ago. “We can finally continue where we left off!”

“What are you talking about?” (Your name) whimpered, Dante chuckling. His red eyes shining brightly.

“Well the answer to the letter I sent you all those years ago, darling!” Dante exclaimed, throwing his arms up in the air. “Unless you didn’t get to read it before that bastard ripped it out of your hands.”

Oh (your name) knew exactly what Dante was talking about. He had written her many, many creepy love letters those years. The dead body of the kitten she used to feed was still fresh into her memory. Dante had claimed he saw Reign had poisoned the kitten due to jealousy and wanted her to give it a proper burial. Yet (your name) didn’t think her ex would do such a horrible thing… right?

But the one he had personally delivered to her was the most simple of all. Dante had asked her to be his girlfriend on his knees in front of the entire school and Reign tore up the confession letter. The blonde then kicking Dante across the head repeatedly.

“I don’t know if I can give you an answer-“

“Darling. Baby! You’ve had seven years to think!” Dante’s expression changed to match his frustration with (your name)’s difficulty. “And I had seven years to adjust my appearance to your tastes. Do you know how busy I was over these years? How many diet plans and how much exercise I pushed myself through just to become the perfect man for you?”

Dante ripped the front of his shirt to show her his chisels physique. “This body was made specifically for you! I know you’ve always liked the pretty type-“

“I-I am flattered, but we just met again-“

“I’m sure you could love me now that I don’t look like what I used to.” Dante interrupted, his large hands holding hers tightly. “I had a hard time finding these parts to use over the years but I only got the best! Just for you! I almost gave up when I couldn’t find you again. My puppets weren’t efficient enough, I guess.“

(Your name) furrowed her brows at his words, a shiver rolling down her line. What did he mean?

“What-“

“Oh you didn’t know did you?” Dante chuckles before holding out his hand, a large number of workers walking up to the door. “My ability is that I can control the dead.”

(Your name) shuddered as she watched the workers removed their masks to reveal the green skinned monsters she had seen a little while ago. So everyone here was undead?

“See? I think I can keep you safe better than Reign can! He locked you away so well for all these years. I couldn’t find you like I used to be able to!” (Your name) felt as if she went numb. Could Reign have been insane as well? Did her ex truly lock her away from the world.

“Don’t worry! I can do everything he can do but better!” Dante exclaimed with a bright smile. “I just love you so much!”

“Dante-“ Dante’s hands quickly grasped hers. His red eyes staring intently into hers.

“You saved me just like you always used to. Its destiny. Can’t you see?” Dante then pressed his lips to her forehead, his body shivering at the contact. “I can love you so much more than Reign can and I make so much more money than him. I could provide for you-“

“Dante, it’s okay-“

Dante suddenly pressed his lips against (your name)’s, his soft lips turning into a smile at the contact. The male slowly pulling away.

“I could give you so much more than he can.” Dante then wrapped his arms around her waist to pull her onto his lap. His manhood slowly grinding into hers. “I could… I could please you… whatever you want. I’ll do-“

“But I want to leave-“ Dante pulled (your name) in for another kiss. His tongue forcefully entering her mouth hole his hands began to grab every bit of flesh he could on her body. A strong of saliva connecting the two when he pulled away again.

“You can’t. You can’t ever leave me again.” Dante buried his head into the crook of her neck. “I’ll go insane. I won’t be able to live again without you. Please just stay, just stay with me. I’ll make you happy.”

“Dante I’d be happier outside-“ a sharp prick interrupted (your name)’s words. Her eyes widening at Dante’s twisted smile.

“No. You can’t leave again…no. I won’t let you.” (Your name) could feel her body going limp, Dante quickly pulling her into his arms.

“I promise to love you more than he ever could. I promise you. I’ll keep you safe.”

(Your name) felt her vision going dark, her eyes fluttering in and out of consciousness. Fear consuming her entire being at the last words she heard from Dante before going into a dreamless sleep.

“He’ll be taken care of shortly. No more interruptions this time.”

What on earth could he possibly mean by that?

Reign stood in front of a grave yard in confusion. This couldn’t possibly be Dante’s address could it?

Reign strolled forward. His brows furrowing in thought, unaware of the many eyes that followed his every movement.

Reign sighed before walking up to the mausoleum in annoyance. Something felt off to him. Almost as if he was missing something.

Reign froze when he heard a crunch behind him. The blonde quickly spun around to come face to face with a dark haired man.

“Who are you?” Reign asked, his brows furrowed in confusion and fear. Why was a man in the middle of a graveyard?

“You know who I am very well, Reign.” The male chuckled before slowly walking towards Reign. A twisted smile on his lips. “You used to make my life a living hell everyday after all.”

“No… you can’t possibly be…” Reign couldn’t believe what he was hearing. There was no way the man in front of him was Dante. He was far too beautiful to be the hunched back boy he used to bully. “Dante?”

“In the flesh, or at least what is left. I sort of killed that old Dante off years ago.” Dante chuckled, his red eyes meeting Reign’s shocked blue ones. “That boy was far too weak and too helpless to stop you back then. But now… ever since I got my powers. I can easily stop you.”

Reign held out a hand to blast water at Dante, only for arms to shoot out from the ground and grab his arms and feet. Reign screamed at the sight of all the undead monsters below him. The blonde thrashing to escape but to no avail.

“Why don’t we chat for a bit, Reign? We have lots of catching up to do after all.” Dante smiled before a chair made of bones rose up from the ground for him to sit on. “You are supposedly supposed to defeat me after all. Nox is a good villain name, don’t you think?”

“You’re sick. How could you kill so many people-“ a twisted laugh interrupted Reign. Reign’s eyes widening in fear at the feral look on Dante’s face.

“I’m sick? Then what are you? A saint?” Dante stood from his chair, the tall male grabbing Reign’s jaw to stare him directly in the eye. “You killed too for her you know. And hurt. And bullied. I was merely searching for her is all. I even tried to find her in other people but to no avail…”

Dante let go of Reign’s chin to reach into his coat pocket. His pale hand holding out a strand of (hair color) hair in front of the blonde. Reign’s breath hitching in fear and anger.

“What did you do to her… what did you do to her?!”

Dante laughed as he began to taunt the blonde with the locks of hair. “Oh nothing yet. I’m merely trying to have her warm her heart up to me. The Stockholm syndrome merely hasn’t set in yet. But she’ll be set for life if she gives into it.”

Dante placed a hand to his cheek as he let out a lovesick sigh. “She’ll be such a beautiful bride. I did so much work trying to make everything perfect for her… the perfect looking husband, the perfect home, and… a lot of money. I could provide for her and maybe even a small family if she’d allow me the pleasure!” Dante gave Reign a mischievous smirk. “Something you could’ve easily have had if you hadn’t slipped up. Thank you for that by the way. Her and I have been reunited at last… I promise to take good care of her-“

A glob of spit hit Dante’s cheek, causing Dante to sigh in annoyance. Dante wiped the spit off his cheek in distaste before glaring at Reign.

“Tch. Seven years and you still haven’t learned proper manners. A shame.”

“Go to hell.” Reign snarled, his blue eyes glowering at Dante in hatred.

“I’ll see you there in a few years then.”

“I’m going to save her from you!” Reign snarled, the blonde thrashing in the undead’s cold grasp. “I will get her back-“

Dante gave Reign a sadistic smile, causing the blonde to freeze up.

“Sorry. I don’t plan on giving you the same luxury you gave me all this years ago when you beat me to a pulp in front of the entire school.” Dante began to shush the blonde’s tears in a teasing manner. “Shhhh. You’ll be among the dead soon. And I will be the only victor from this.”

“But… heroes always-“

“Oh but who ever said you were a hero?” Dante teased. “Heroes would never do the things you do. You could’ve moved on like a normal person but just like a rat, you’re always digging into places you shouldn’t be. A pity.”

Dante snapped his fingers, a large army of the undead crawling out from their graves like grotesque puppets.

“Kill him.” Dante then walked away, the sound of Reign’s screams filling the graveyard. A sound that came to a sudden halt, almost as if it had never even happened.

“What a shame. I was really hoping for something more… climatic to our reunion.” Dante muttered to himself before turning back. “But I do truly think she’d come to love me more.”

Dante snapped his finger, a reanimated Reign crawling towards him. A sinister smile crawling on his lips. “Don’t you think I’m more suited for (your name), Reign?”

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ananiel · 6 months

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What if You were the snake in the grass of their world?

Talking about this "snake in the grass" saying. It's the fact that usually, all the snakes You find on fields aren't poisonous and usually harmless, more afraid of You then You are of them. But there is a very poisonous species of snakes that hides around fields and is said to have a poison strong enough to kill an adult in less then 30 seconds after the bite

So think of it, a snake in general brings fright to people because hey, it looks weird and scary. People usually don't care if it is poisonous or not. They just run away and don't look back, saying that it is better to be safe then sorry

So thinking of it. What if You come from a misterious family. One that is known for being linked to many murders and / or felonies as a whole.

Yet, your family had always an excuse or turned out to have an aliby that held them out of this acusations. Even if they had witnesses to prove that they were part of it, they never got caught

So that's when You come along. A young individual, one that doesn't seem to have bite in them at all. A quiet and shy person or a loud but inocent one.

They see You and think of You being weak, harmless, but knowing the rumours that your family is surounded with, they are still very carefull around You

Even if the cruelty doesn't run on the surface like the rest of your family, You are still very misterious yourself

Not many know anything about You, somehow, no matter to who you speak, they become more clueless then they were before after they spoke to You.

But what if there are more layers to your personality, what if You wait until they are close of You and then You attack? What if You act weak just to get their guard down for You to strike better?

What if the cruel and calculated individual is the real You. What if the real You is ready to kill and hurt anyone to get their way?

What if You are the true villain of the story they are in ? What if You truly are the snake behind it all?

And what if they get addicted to your poison? What if they get addicted to the sharp toungue of yours? What if they are ready to die to have You in their arms?

Imagine the irony, they watched as many fawned over them, not knowing their true intensions, only for them to fawn over You, but them knowing who you truly are and what You do

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yanxidarlings · 9 months

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YANDERE HP GOLDEN ERA: SLYTHERIN BOYS X DORMMATE READER

continuation of my previous post (i got caught up in getting out my anthony goldstein headcanons was it obvious). okay so full disclosure, i haven't read the fanfictions lorenzo and mattheo are from (i only read yandere is it obvious) (i see their faceclaims and cannot. exclude), so if i'm not portraying them correctly shout at me. but just for a moment, imagine having the 79-80 liner slytherin boys yandere for their dormmate? (okay there is a loophole i'll write for male readers/darlings if asked).

maybe they've known the reader/darling since childhood, and the sudden close proximity magnifies the possessive and obsessive tendencies they were developing towards the darling. or, the darling could suddenly get sorted into slytherin and now they have a roommate they did not expect to have. for the second scenario i don't think the darlings personality would matter much - either way, they're all apprehensive about this really cute kid they suddenly are dorming with.

maybe they give the reader a hard time at first (although this is only really likely to happen for a darling in a different house, or a muggleborn darling) but whoo boy if anyone else thinks of teasing the reader, they'll get hell from our dear slytherins here. actually, anyone who the reader pays mind to becomes a target of torment and bullying by draco and his gang. especially potter. please, reader, for potters own sanity and the good of the wizarding world, do not approach, think about or even look in the direction of harry. it ends in an ugly tantrum from draco, prolonged sarcasm from theodore, silence from blaise, aggression from mattheo and teasing from lorenzo. crabbe and goyle won't be carrying your books for you for the next week either.

when they get like this, it'll be the darling that'll have to make it up to them, or risk having it all drag out until one of them gets over it naturally.

GREGORY GOYLE & VINCENT CRABBE (cast josh herdman, jamie waylett):

they're all horribly possessive and jealous by default, but generally, crabbe and goyle are the easiest to deal with, they both have a soft spot for their darling, and are pretty used to being bossed around, the second choice and having to share. they're also the easiest to appease, putting food on crabbe's plate is enough to make him happy, and paying goyle any mind will go a long way.

they don't need constant attention (draco), validation (draco), and affection (draco), from their darling, and are content just being in their life.

BLAISE ZABINI (cast louis cordice):

after them, i honestly don't know who's worse. going in alphabetical order, blaise appears to be calm and uncaring when it comes to his darling, but do not be fooled, he's not going to sit back and let his darling get whisked away by the likes of a half blood (sorry mattheo), spolit daddy's boy (apologies draco), spolit mommy's boy (soz enzo) or someone who's one lab accident away from becoming a supervillain (blaise's words not mine theo).

blaise tolerates the rest of the slytherins for now, but if any of them think he'd ever fully agree to sharing with the likes of them, they are wrong. he fantasises about taking his darling away from the world after graduating, and probably has his mother trying to arrange a marriage the moment he decides they're his.

DRACO MALFOY (cast tom felton):

unlike blaise, draco is not even a little bit subtle about his possesiveness over his darling, he only see's the other slytherins as tools to ensure his darlings safety and happiness at hogwarts, and does not bother to pretend like he isn't planning to kidnap move the reader into malfoy manor the minute they graduate. actually, he couldn't wait that long.

he'll look for any opportunity to have the malfoy family gain custody of his darling. all the more better if his darling comes from a dysfunctional household. but either way, he'll make sure his family is all they have to turn to.

all i know about lorenzo is that he has mommy and daddy issues so i'll have to piggybank off that. he'll present himself as the 'sane' one, if his darling is complaining about the behaviour of the other slytherins, enzo wholeheartedly agree's with them "i don't know what's wrong with all of them - you sure you didn't slip any amortentia into their drinks?" he becomes a safe haven from the possessive obsession his dormmates seem to share for their darling.

LORENZO BERKSHIRE (fancast louis patridge):

lorenzo acts the most normal, but don't be fooled, he's just as obsessed as the rest of them. enzo is just better at hiding it. he too, frequently thinks about whisking them away, but is much less finite about it; holing his darling up in his house isn't the end goal. he could honestly live with sharing them with his fellow slytherins, but this is all assuming that the reader takes well to his attempts at becoming the 'sane one'.

if enzo isn't able to successfully befriend them, he'll have to settle for being the 'mean one'. teasing and humiliation follows his darling, as does he. it's not severe, but it's probably the push the reader needs to fall into deep depression and anxiety. so please, take the sane bait.

MATTHEO RIDDLE (fancast benjamin wadsworth):

mattheo doesn't exactly have a family reputation to uphold, blaise, draco, enzo and theo would want to keep up a respectable reputation, whatever that is in pureblood society, but mattheo? the dark lords son? he's entirely unhinged.

if lorenzo is the 'sane one', mattheo is the 'crazy one'.

he doesn't really care what his darling, or others, think of his behaviour. if he wants to spend time with them, he's going to. he'll pull them out of class, drag them away from the other slytherins, just to skip rocks in the black lake with them, or raid the kitchens. he doesn't really bother hiding his yandere tendencies, he'll actively tell his darling not to talk to certain people "because i said so" "stop asking questions", and will refuse to elaborate further. sometimes, there will be disturbing moments of honesty between him and his darling; he'll admit that he's obsessed with them, and threaten to attack people they pay attention to. and he'll tell them that they belong to him.

sometimes it's frightening and sometimes he'll come across as sweet. he is both predictable and unpredictable, which puts his darling at unease around him.

THEODORE NOTT (fancast lorenzo zurzolo):

theodore uses guilt to garner his darlings sympathy, all the more easier if they are childhood friends. he'll make sure they know about his harsh childhood, and make them feel responsible for his wellbeing. he's the only one to create a sense of dependency not built upon threats. out of all the slytherins, he gets to know his darling the best, he'll use guilt, emotional breakdowns and dark secrets to create a sense of obligation towards him.

theo is the most comforting of the slytherins to be around, he's quiet and the only one who they can spend time with without feeling much pressure. he demands the most of their attention, and is by far the most possessive. whilst i can see the other slytherins finding a way to deal with sharing their darling amonst themselves, if the rest don't back off eventually (stop dreaming theo) (they won't), he's the most inclined to just get rid of them - he can't stand it when his darling is around anyone but him, he wakes early to walk his darling to class just so they won't get caught up in the busy halls, where eyes can wonder and other people can have a chance to interact with his darling.

theodore pairs with them for every project, which leads to some ugly arguments between him and blaise, who only really get's his fill of his darling by sitting next to them in class. and draco, and mattheo and enzo and even goyle who was hoping the reader would help get him a good grade for once.

out of all of them, draco, goyle and blaise are the most patient. they want their darling to love them, not see them as monsters to flinch away from.

theodore, lorenzo and mattheo will take whatever they can get. lorenzo in particular doesn't want his darling to fear him but won't let them get away with trying to escape or disobedience. mattheo doesn't mind being the villain if he must be, but his heart clenches when his darling acts so obviously distrustful of him. theodore is the least patient, and if his darling starts to shy away from him, he snaps. at them, at the rest of the slytherin boys. but he's also easy to keep content, so long as his darling is always by his side.

similarly, blaise just enjoys being in the presence of his darling, and doesn't feel the need to cuddle up to them constantly like draco and enzo do. mattheo is a loose canon, and sometimes is fine being near them, other times he wants skin to skin contact 25/8.

they're hopeless at sharing, and only really get along for the sake of their darling. there are only really two ways this can end; theodore finally snaps and tries to off the rest of them after graduation, or they somehow come to an agreement on sharing, maybe they each get their own day a week

monday for draco, tuesday for blaise, wednesday for theo, thursday for enzo, and friday for mattheo. goyle and crabbe probably aren't taken seriously enough to get given their own day, so then the weekends are spent sharing (fighting).

the only time the boys will work in tandem is when someone attempts to take their darling and their attention, away. best example, darling starts dating someone. which is already pretty improbable, considering they give the reader no alone time whatsoever. but let's just say the darling here is going on a date with cormac mclaggen (get a grip, darling), any grudges they've been holding against each other are off, mclaggen has just signed his death warrant.

mattheo and theodore do most of the dirty work, whilst lorenzo distracts the reader. draco and blaise cover up their tracks, so it seems like whatever they did to mclaggen was an untimely accident. or have it blamed on someone else. goyle and crabbe intimidate anyone who tries to get close to the darling from then on.

they might hate sharing with each other, but they truly despise sharing with an 'outsider'.

#yandere harry potter #yandere draco malfoy #yandere blaise zabini #yandere theodore nott #yandere mattheo riddle #yandere lorenzo berkshire #yandere goyle #yandere crabbe #yandere slytherin #hp #draco malfoy #blaise zabini #theodore nott #mattheo riddle #lorenzo berkshire #gregory goyle #slytherin boys #golden era #hp writings

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slasher-male-wife · 7 months

Text

Yandere Lestat and Louis x GN reader headcanons

This is my first time writing for Louis and Lestat so I'm sorry if this is kind of out of character for them. Also I'm basing this off of the 1994 movie portrayal of the characters.

Warnings: Yandere behavior, cheating on reader (not my Lestat or Louis), murder, forced blood drinking mentioned, manipulative behavior, unhealthy relationships, slight au

Lestat had befriended a local artist in France where they're currently staying. Lestat had heard about this artist's muse and brought Louis along to meet them. When both men followed the artist into the studio there, waiting on a chaise lounge was you. Your outfit was most likely some kind of sleepwear that’s trending. Your hair, your body, your smile, all of it drew both men in. They could tell why this artist has dedicated you as his muse.

When they saw you they knew they had to have you. Louis was hesitant to really admit to wanting you to be all theirs, but Lestat had no problem talking openly to Louis about how much he desired you.

Soon both men began to shower you with affection away from your boyfriend. Lestat was all about taking you out on the town and buying you gifts, being very physical. While Louis was content to talk with you privately about whatever came across your minds.

They spent whatever time they could looking at the art your boyfriend made of you. Lestat went as far as to offer to buy some paintings of you. But sadly they weren’t for sale, so he opted to steal drawings of you.

After establishing a relationship with you, that's when they began to try and separate you from your boyfriend. Lestat would plant the ideas in your head and Louis would be there to comfort you through it all. “I’ve seen him around town, looking at other people the way he looks at you.” Lestat would say. “You deserve so much better than him Y/N. I promise you that.” Louis would add.

Louis would be hesitant to keep going with this plan, feeling like he’s building a relationship with you on nothing but lies. But Lestat would be there to tell Louis that this is what’s best for you, that they would be the best people to take care of you. So Louis would feel less guilty over time about this.

They’d also start to get your boyfriend to see other people, encouraging him to cheat on you just so their plan could be set into motion. Louis would take a little convincing to actually get in fully on this plan but Lestat would get him on board in the end.

They’d set it up so you’d catch your boyfriend cheating on you during the night. You’d run over to Louis and Lestat’s house and there they would be to comfort you about what you just saw. After you fall asleep they’ll go to your ex-boyfriend's house and kill him and the person he was cheating on you with, draining them of all their blood.

They’ll then have to explain to you what they are. Louis would break it to you gently and promise you that they’d never do anything to hurt you. Lestat would offer to turn you too and give you a couple days to think it over.

They’d set up a letter to give you from your “Partner” that says he fled to another country with his new partner. This will hopefully send you over the edge and get you to let them turn you into a vampire. If it doesn’t they’ll manipulate you into it anyway.

Once you’re turned they’ll start to spoil you even more for letting them turn you, trying to prove to you that you made the perfect decision by letting them turn you.

Lestat will want you to drink from humans immediately while Louis will understand if you’re hesitant. But both of them won’t let you drink from animals. So if you’re not drinking from humans they’ll force feed you blood.

If you ever think about leaving they’ll manipulate you into staying. What other vampire would want you? Can you really trust someone else after your last boyfriend? It’s best to stay with them, they were the ones who turned you after all.

Louis is a softer yandere. He’ll be more comforting and won’t be as explicit with his manipulation tactics and possessiveness. Lestat is far more open with his yandere behavior. He’ll outright manipulate you and yell at you if you talk about leaving. Louis will comfort you after and Lestat will eventually apologize just so you don’t hate him.

You’re not going to leave them, that’s not an option. You’re stuck with them forever. If you try to leave they’ll track you down and they’ll lock you in their house if that’s necessary.

#interview with the vampire #lestat de lioncourt x reader #louis de pointe du lac x reader #lestat x reader #louis de pointe du lac x you #interview with the vampire x reader

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imshii-kin · 24 days

Text

Good Luck

Platonic Yandere Dc x reincarnated Reader

I made this a bit ago so have mercy :,)

Wattpad

Summary : Y/n, who recently taken an interest in the DC universe, finds themself in that very universe after a little roadkill accident.

Prologue, Chapter # 1 (you are here), Chapter 2, Chapter 3

Never feel guilty for starting again. - Rupi Kaur

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

It had been a few hours since Y/n had awoken, she felt like she was in shock. She could remember walking back to her dorm from the public library. She had picked a random comic from the comic section, deciding to venture from her usual picks.

She could remember the bright headlights barreling towards her, the pain, her breath slowly slipping from her...

Y/n doesn't know is she can look at a truck the same way again.

"What do you think could've caused this Lois? She was completely fine yesterday." A man with inky black hair and deep blue eyes paced around the kitchen, his brows furrowed in frustration.

The woman next to him, Louis, placed a hand on his shoulder, trying to comfort her husband. "I don't know Clark, it's strange."

Y/n sucks in a breath, she was in the DC universe.

──●◎●──

'...I didn't even get to finish playing through Fnaf.' Y/n thought as she watched her 'parents' talk. Sighing, Y/n recounted her situation, she could remember her past life perfectly, but she drew a blank when she tried to remember anything from this life.

In all honesty Y/n was on the verge of a panic attack, still coming to grips with the fact she died. Not only that, but out of all the universes to be reincarnated in, Y/n was reborn into one of the most dangerous universes out there. Why couldn't she just be reincarnated in a chick flick?

Louis had her arm around Y/n, holding her close and trying to comfort her. She was saying something to Y/n, though nothing really registered.

Justifiably, Y/n didn't feel like talking to anyone.

Clark sat down in front of you, gently taking your hands in his hands. "Y/n, can you tell us what could have happened? Anything at all?" Y/n shakes her head no. She chose not to mention her past life, something in her gut told her to keep it to herself.

Clark sighed disappointedly, "I guess I'll have to call Bruce." He seemed grimace when he mentioned Bruce's name.

That's never a good sign.

──●◎●──

"What do you mean 'No' Bruce!?" Clark yelled at the billionaire, who was trying to calm down and reason with the hero.

"Clark, I just think you're going a little overboard, let me take her back to Gotham. I can use my computers and resources that are stored in the bat cave to figure out what's wrong." Bruce explained. "We don't need to summon the Justice League for this." Bruce's brow furrowed at the stubbornness of the alien.

Off to the side Y/n watched the interaction with morbid curiosity. Though you agreed that calling up the Justice League was a bit... over the top. It was still strange how Bruce seems reluctant to interact with the Justice League in general.

Wonder why that is.

Clark runs a hand through his hair, obviously frustrated. "Why would I let my daughter go to Gotham, for all I know, this is some excuse to experiment on her kryptonian side. Find out more weaknesses," he all but snarled, "or get her killed, just like Jason!"

Clark pinched the bridge of his nose. "I can't trust her with you, not after..." He shakes his head, turning away from Bruce.

Louis had left your side to talk with Clark, allowing Jon to take her place.

There's some silence, before Jon decides to speak. "...I think you should go." He says. Y/n tilts her head towards him, brow raised. "I gave a friend there, Damien." Jon begins, "he's told me all about Bruce, I think they can help you."

Jon blushes a bit, "Plus, Damien is the most trustworthy guy I know, if you ever need help, he'll be there."

Footsteps approach you both from behind, turning to look, you both see an irritated Clark approaching you. "Well, she doesn't have a choice. She isn't going." He huffed.

"..."

"Clark, do you want her to get the best treatment or not?" Surprisingly, Lois spoke up this time. Sighing, she took Clark's hand.

"Bruce won't betray our trust, plus she'll be in one of the most protected places in Gotham, getting the best treatment she could ever get. I think we should let Bruce take her until we figure out what, or... who caused this."

──●◎●──

Y/n and Bruce sit in silence.

──●◎●──

#platonic yandere #batfam #yandere dc #yandere superfam #yandere dick grayson #yandere jason todd #yandere damian wayne #yandere tim drake #yandere bruce wayne #yandere clark kent #yandere justice league #yandere nightwing #yandere red hood #yandere red robin #yandere robin #yandere superman #yandere batman

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vanilladove · 4 months

Text

~ get free (bonus)

based off of an anonymous request to see what would happen if reader tried to escape because trust was lost🫣 this is also the 'bad ending' reposted bc 'read more' wasn't working the first time.

pic creds luvpngs | gif creds akashi-tetsuki

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ pairing: asylum patient!nikolai x asylum attendant!fem!reader; slight fydor x fem!reader🤫

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ genre: angst + fluff? w/ dark elements; one suggestive scene with nikolai🙈read at your own discretion!

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ content warnings: feelings of guilt, manipulation + violence, unhealthy relationships, slightly yandere nikolai, this is lowkey sad...😔

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ summary: you've become an accomplice to the doa. however, you've started to grow some doubts about your situation. are you really free or just in another man's cage? not to mention the demon lurking from a distance... ˚₊‧꒰ა read pt 1 & pt 2 & pt3 (good ending)໒꒱ ‧₊˚

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ word count: 4.7k

"So, what's your husband like?" Your coworker Juliette asked, sitting in a circle with your other colleague Anaïs, passing around a box of assorted chocolates.

It had been three months. You and Nikolai had successfully infiltrated Mersault, getting more information about the space-creating ability and honing in on potential ability users. Now you were alone, working for the government's IT department--your goal was to create a breach in their database for Fyodor to get into, so he could narrow down the Decay of Angel's targets and get their information.

Anaïs scowled and gave you the chocolates, muttering a word about how she was "low-sugar" before she primped her hair, preparing to brag, "Well, y'know, Louis takes me shopping and buys me new jewelry whenever I want. He just got me a new puppy, too, and he's the cutest little pomeranian!" You giggled a bit as Juliet pouted in envy, "Oh--and he's taking this weekend off, so we can go to the islands together!" You popped a caramel-filled square in your mouth as Juliet rolled her eyes playfully.

"You spoiled princess...Antoine spends all his money on the kids--plus he only gets one weekend off a month and always brings them to our romantic date nights..." Your coworker sighed dramatically, pretending like she wasn't equally as doting over her children, whose pictures and handmade gifts were all around her cubicle.

Ah, children, families, frequent romantic dates, marriage...those were all traditional things you gave up after running away with Nikolai.

You were lost in your thoughts as you popped another rich candy into your mouth--this one being filled with a creamy pistachio ganache that tasted a bit too artificial and made you cringe. Juliette called your name to snap you out of your daze.

"Well, what about you? What's your husband like?" She leaned forward and stared curiously at you, waiting for you to share your little gossip. You chewed slowly, trying to process the question as Anaïs nudged her friend's side lightly.

"Juliette, are you blind?! The girl doesn't have a ring on her finger--certainly she must have a man though--I mean look at her--she's a stunner." Your eyes widened at that as you twirled your wig hair and fixed your fake disguise glasses.

"Oh, well, Anaïs is right, I do have a...lover." Lover...you and Nikolai had never really put an official label on your relationship. You described Nikolai--dubbed as "Nikolas"--to the two other women, trying to stay as true as possible while not revealing his true identity.

Juliet winked at you, "Do you guys have sex? Is he rough, soft, kinky?" She giggled as Anaïs side-eyed her for her childish behavior.

You blushed, well, at least you could answer this question in earnest, "Yeah...he's good...really good." You covered your face briefly, feeling heat in your cheeks when you remembered your little Mersault moments. "But we haven't done anything in a while since he's away on a...work trip." You smiled sadly at that, despite missions being the new norm, you couldn't deny feeling lonely and missing Nikolai constantly.

"Ohhhhh?" Juliette and Anaïs exchanged coy looks, "You need that man to marry you before he leaves you...trust me, darling, I would know." Anaïs said, touching up her lipstick, "You wouldn't want to get knocked up and left alone, would you? Men are too unfaithful these days..."

Yeah, you knew all about that first hand.

You were about to interject until you supervisor knocked on the wall of the space you three were having lunch in. "Lunch break's over. Get back to work, ladies." You all got up slowly, and you held onto the box of chocolates, offering some pieces to Juliette before taking it back to your work desk and putting your headset on.

"You shouldn't eat so many chocolates, ptichka, you'll get a sugar crash." You straightened your back suddenly upon hearing the sultry, russian man's voice in your headset. Fyodor. He usually gave you instructions privately to hack into the system, but he normally only talked to you for mission purposes.

Rolling your eyes, you popped a sweet milk chocolate heart into your mouth, "Hush, I'm stressed. And how did you know? Are you watching me or something?" You looked up by the ceilings to glare into the nearby security cameras.

Fyodor only laughed on the other side. "Oh, milaya, I'm always watching you." Shivers ran down your spine as his voice faded out and you were back to staring at your log-in screen.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

You waved goodbye to your coworkers as greeted Ivan--your personal chauffeur--and stepped into the backseat of the car, staring out the tinted window. The car was stopped at a red light when you noticed an animated billboard broadcasting a clip of the news. It was your parents and your in-laws begging for any information about you or your husband's disappearances and the award for either of your safe returns. While that didn't bother you at first--after all, your parents just saw you as a pawn they could marry away for a sound investment, and your in-laws didn't treat you much better either--you couldn't help but feel some remorse from their desperate pleas.

You knew what had happened to your husband--you and Nikolai had killed him. As much as you didn't want to admit it, his death was starting to haunt you. The eerie silence after you'd pulled the trigger and the horrible state he was in before replayed in your dreams, and it didn't help that your lover wasn't there to comfort you anymore. Especially now that Sigma was busy managing the Sky Casino, and you had to work your 9-5 office job, you really had no one to talk to openly. No one...except for Fyodor.

"Welcome back, milashka." Fyodor greeted you as you slipped off your heels upon entering the base. You smiled awkwardly at him, freeing your hair from the wig and slipping your glasses back into your purse. "How was work today?"

"Good...as always...you would know that, though since you're always watching me." You teased, still a bit shaken by what he'd said.

Despite how cold and reluctant he was towards you at first, you'd somehow gotten closer since it was basically just you two at the base. He'd held up his promise and gave you plenty of books to read, so you often talked about literature, which usually lead to deeper conversations. Additionally, although he never addressed you by your name like Sigma, he started giving you russian pet names--some of which were uncannily similar to the ones Nikolai would call you. You tried not to pay it much mind--it was probably some weird power dynamic thing--but you couldn't help but notice how he hid the nicknames and subtle flirting around Nikolai.

Fyodor motioned towards the small table by the fireplace, "I made some tea. Would you care to join me, ptichka? He smirked as you sighed and sat down next to him--you swore the chairs were closer than usual. You pulled the box of chocolates out of your purse and set them down next to a blue and white porcelain tea cup. You poured yourself some black tea before taking another chocolate, this one being filled with strawberry cream. You sulked after seeing a drawing of a happy family on the box, drawing Fyodor's attention. "Is anything on your mind, milaya? You seem bothered."

You eyed him curiously, surprised that he cared to listen to you. You figured you needed to get it off your chest, though, so you opened up, "Well...it's just that I've been alone lately with Nikolai gone, and I've been feeling like maybe this life isn't exactly for me..." You trailed off, a bit panicked when you saw a blank, stoic look on Fyodor's face. You put your hands up defensively, "N-not like I don't want to be a part of the Decay of Angels anymore, but just that I want more out of my life in the future."

Fyodor crossed his legs and rested his chin on his hand, gazing down at you, intrigued, "Go on."

You gulped, "I get so jealous when my coworkers talk about their families and settling down, going on fun vacations, or having daily board game nights...How they can speak so freely about their lives, while I have to live a lie and walk past my missing posters every day...I-I don't have anyone to come home to anymore, either..." You could feel tears start to cloud your vision as you looked down, never speaking this passionately before. You were sure you looked pathetic.

Your eyes widened as you felt Fyodor's frail fingers come up to wipe away your tears and brush across your cheek before landing on top of your hands. They were cold, not as warm as Nikolai's but at least somewhat comforting.

"Perhaps it isn't a different lifestyle you crave, but a sense of belonging and security." Fyodor started, bringing his face a bit closer to yours. "Your heart desires a deeper connection with those around you. After all, you abandoned everyone you knew before and suddenly went into an entirely different life. It's only normal that you would feel distressed after a while. You need comfort--and I'm sure that some part of you wants to give your parents some closure about your disappearance."

Fyodor was being...sympathetic? It was almost scary how well he could describe what you were feeling, along with how surprisingly empathetic he acted. You had quickly learned that he had little regard for others or for defective subordinates.

You looked up at him, "It's not just that, though. Even though it's selfish, I want Nikolai to marry me--or at least make things more serious and clear between us..." You didn't notice Fyodor slightly frowning at that as you continued, "He's just been away for so long, and it's not like I don't trust him, but he really has no obligation to stay loyal to me, and I've already been cheated on before...There's no way I can fall in love with another man being a double agent, so I need to know if he plans on us being long-term or not..." Rambling out the rest of your feelings, Fyodor stroked your hand slowly, his smug smile returning on his face.

"You should tell him that, then. If you speak from your heart and tell him the truth, I'm sure he'll listen to you. After all, he'd fulfill your desires if he really loved you." You pouted.

"But it's Nikolai...at the end of the day, he lives by his own convictions and philosophy."

Fyodor clicked his tongue, "If he loved you, he'd compromise." You weren't quite convinced, but you flinched when he brought your hand up and placed a soft kiss to the back of your hand. "Good luck, milashka." As soon as it happened, he was gone as he dismissed himself and left you alone at the table. You didn't know how to think or process the conversation as you lightly slapped away the faint blush across your cheeks.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Another long day of work had concluded as you wished your coworkers a good weekend and walked out the door. It had been two weeks since your conversation with Fyodor, but it was all that was on your mind. You really needed to talk to Nikolai soon.

Wait. Was that Ivan...holding a bouquet of flowers? Not just any flowers either--they were the same lavender roses you'd been gifted by your ex-patient in the asylum courtyard.

Ivan only gave you his usual twisted smile and laughter before handing you the bouquet as you shot him a questioning look. You muttered a quiet "thank you" as you got into the backseat and stared out the window again, smelling the fragrant roses and replaying Fyodor's words in your head.

It didn't hit you that the road you were traveling on was unfamiliar until the car suddenly came to a stop, and you realized you were in an abandoned alleyway. Uneasiness started to settle in as your driver exited his seat, shutting the car door behind him. "Iv--"

You were interrupted when the door to the backseat flung open and closed as Ivan crawled on top of you, pushing the flowers out of your hands as he pushed his body against yours and cradled into your neck, hysterically giggling. "I-Ivan--" You struggled to shove him off you, but he was too strong, "W-what are you---"

A familiar scent stopped you from speaking as your heartbeat increased. Wait, was that--?

Ivan pulled away from your neck before tugging off his bandages, his whole appearance suddenly fading away before being replaced by...

"K-Kolya! I-It's you!" Relief washed over your face as you looked up to see your lover staring back at you, clearly satisfied from whatever prank he'd just played on you. He kissed away the tears that had formed instinctively from your fear while laughing maniacally.

"Hehe~ Did you miss me, dove? I wanted to surprise you since I just came back. Your reactions were a nice little treat~" You pouted as you looked away, embarrassed that you'd lost yet another one of Nikolai's mini games. His features softened, "I'm afraid I may have gone a bit too far though. I really missed you, myla." His warm, gloved fingers traced over your bottom lip slowly.

"M-missed you too, Kolya. So much..." You sniffled as you pulled his head down to yours, tangling your fingers into his fluffy white hair and capturing his lips in a deep kiss. Your back pushed into the car cushions as Nikolai's hands roamed your body, needy to touch you again after so long--especially since he couldn't contact you. He fumbled with the buttons on your thick coat, hands working fast to get you out of all of your layers.

He groaned into the kiss as you tugged on his locks and wrapped your legs around his waist to press him further against you. By now, he had unbuttoned your light blue blouse to reveal your pretty skin. Nikolai pulled away from the kiss gently to take you in--the sight of you all flustered in just a thin lacy bra was turning him on, evident from his growing arousal that was pushing against your tights.

"Fuck, dove, you're so beautiful..." He dipped back to leave messy hickeys on your neck, whispering in your ear before slowly working his way down, "Your skin's so soft...were you touching yourself while I was away, pryntsesa?" You moaned at that, whining when his hand starting rubbing circles from your hips to your inner thigh, getting dangerously close. The trail of wet kisses traveled down your collarbone and your breasts to your stomach and eventually stopping where the waistband of your black skirt and tights laid. He was panting lightly at this point, devoid of air from worshipping your body. "It wasn't enough, though, was it? You need me to feel good, myla~" He heaved, his face pink and strands of hair falling over his eyes. His fingers hooked around your clothes and he resumed his trail of kisses, about to strip you.

"If he loved you, he'd compromise."

Fyodor's words hit you as you stopped Nikolai, lightly pushing yourself up again. "W-wait, Nikolai, I want to talk to you about something." He grunted, annoyed like a little kid, his bulge still pressing against you.

"Can it wait? I didn't bring you to this abandoned, sketchy alley for nothing, ptashka." You pulled away further, to his disappointment, and pulled your knees up against your body, pouting sadly.

"I know, but it's something that's been on my mind since you've been gone", Nikolai only sighed impatiently as you pleaded, "I promise it won't take too long..." You put your hand over Nikolai's, and he obliged reluctantly, sitting up a small distance away from you.

"Cockblocker...make it quick." He muttered, and you tried not to be immature and giggle. This was supposed to be a serious conversation.

You cleared your throat, "Well, I was just wondering about us...and our relationship..." You flinched when you saw Nikolai's eyes bore into you, "I-It's not what you think---I love you and want to stay with you, but, are we..." You trailed off, suddenly feeling embarrassed and unsure about what to say next. You looked down, mind a muddled mess, but you tried to remember Fyodor's advice.

"A-are we ever going to get married? Settle down and maybe start a family? Move somewhere nice and peaceful, where we can just enjoy each other's company?" Your mind went back to Anaïs and her husband, as you slowly started to look back up, "Go on a vacation together to the islands? Or your home coun--"

"No." Nikolai's dark gaze cut into you, stopping you from speaking any further. "Why would you want that, dove?"

You could feel your heart shattering. This wasn't how you thought he would respond. He was supposed to understand you, to listen to you, to compromise.

"I want a future with you, Kolya, that's why..." You started sadly, throat feeling constricted.

"But we're already together right now, myla. Isn't that enough for you?" Nikolai replied apathetically, his expression stoic and unreadable.

"It's--but my husband cheated on me, so I have to know if you're serious about us. I don't want to be in an unstable relationship anymore." Tears pricked your eyes, threatening to spill out as you could feel your heart breaking, "Anyways, you could just cheat on me, too. You're barely even around anymore, and I'm sure that you're always surrounded by beautiful women...All my coworkers are already married and in a happy relationship, so I feel so behind..."

"Oh, so that's why? Because society's telling you to live that way? Because you want to be accepted and imitate everyone else? That's the exact life I was trying to escape from, dove." Nikolai butted back, smiling cruelly.

"N-no! That's not--" You cried out, not being able to hold in the tears. Nikolai frowned and looked up from your face, reaching up towards your head.

"That hat? When did you get that?" He glared up at the white ushanka on your head. It resembled a certain someone's too closely.

You sniffled, "T-this? It's a gift from Fyodor. 'Cause it's getting cold out." Nikolai furrowed his brows in jealously upon hearing that name.

"From Dos...he's the one who planted those ideas in your head, didn't he?" His fists tightened at the thought of Fyodor wrapping you around his finger; it was his specialty, after all.

You wiped your tears sadly as you lowly shook your head no. At this point, Fyodor seemed to be the only one who understood you. He was the one who'd told you that Nikolai would compromise if he loved you. But he didn't. Did that mean...?

"Tch. Look, myla, stay away from that man. Dos may be my friend, but I don't trust him." Seeing your sad face and lack of response angered him more and he raised his voice a bit, "Stop talking to him, dove. I'm warning you--don't you dare even look in his direction."

Your sobbing resumed as you pulled your head back into your knees, hearing the backdoor shut as Nikolai left and started driving back to the base. You heard the sound of rain in the background as you clutched the white ushanka in your arms, the fluffy hat offering you some comfort.

The ride back was silent.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Fyodor awaited you both when you finally arrived back at the base, the same sly smile on his face. "Welcome back, you two." Nikolai only glared back, holding your hand tightly. He let go suddenly and walked past Fyodor into his stone room, implying for him to follow suit.

Once Nikolai's back was turned away, Fyodor gave you a soft, concerned glance. Your nose and eyes were swollen and red from all the crying. "I'm guessing it didn't go well, milashka?" You shook your head softly, and he whispered about leaving some cookies and tea in your room. He tried to approach you, but a strong voice cut him off.

"Dos, let's talk." Nikolai menacingly called out, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorway. You'd never seen him this stern or angry before. He never took anything seriously, certainly you weren't an exception, right?

Fyodor shot you one last empathetic look and went into his room. You shuddered as the sound of Nikolai slamming the door and immediately yelling loudly bounced off the walls. As much as you wanted to eavesdrop, you were worn out and tired.

You retreated to your and Nikolai's shared room slowly, too exhausted to even try the tea and cookies Fyodor had thoughtfully left for you. You barely stripped off your disguise before crashing onto the bed, just wanting the day to be over.

Things with Nikolai could never go back to normal again. You wished you'd just kept your mouth shut, but you also wished Nikolai had been more open to your desires. What were you to him, anyways? And you didn't understand why he was so mad at Fyodor. He'd kept you company while Nikolai was gone, and he'd been nothing but respectful and attentive.

You groaned and tried to shut your eyes to drown out the conflicting thoughts in your head. Everything was way too complicated now. You wished things could be peaceful again. You wished you could escape.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

"You want to go back home, ptichka?" Fyodor asked. You nodded in response. The next day, Nikolai was gone on another mission, never coming to your shared bed the night before or saying goodbye to you before leaving.

The russian man sighed, "That's a bad idea. You'll get caught before you know it, and once the press gets a hold of you, it'll be hard to rescue you. Plus you still have your job that could arouse suspicion."

"I know..." You started. "I just...have some amends to make...and I'll only be gone for a day or two...and stay in disguise." Liar. You didn't know why you wanted to go back, and if you were homesick or just trying to self-sabotage yourself. Either way, you knew you couldn't stay here and look at Fyodor or Nikolai any longer. Things were too tense, and you didn't know who was genuinely there for you or just manipulating you.

You couldn't trust either of them. Your plan was to either go back and get caught for your crimes or retreat to the Sky Casino for as long as possible. You bet that Sigma didn't like or trust the two men either.

Not to mention, you'd already left Nikolai a parting text, writing,

"I'm sorry. I'll always love you, Kolya. Thank you."

Not that you even knew if he'd see it, but you still wanted to say something.

"I'll help you." Fyodor finally said, making your eyes widen in surprise. "But I want to tell you something first." He took your hands and held them, running his thumb over your fingers. His touch was cold. "I admire you for wanting to confront your feelings and follow your heart. The rest of us have forgotten such feelings of humanity." He continued, "To see such a lovely, well-read woman like you leave pains me. I'll truly miss you and our intellectual conversations, milaya. So much so that I'll be awaiting your safe return."

You blushed as he kissed your gentle hands, "T-thank you, Fyodor, I'm flattered." Lying again, but you figured you would have to use your 'feminine charm' a bit to fully convince him.

He smirked subtly, "Escaping from another man's cage of lofty ideals and freedom into the outside world...Would you care to do me one last favor, milashka?" You nodded with doe eyes as he leaned into your ear.

"Give me a goodbye kiss." Shocked and flustered, you pulled away and broke contact.

Fyodor only stepped forward and held your face, his soft smile seeming more sinister now, "What's wrong, dove, you just have to kiss me, and I'll help you escape. Not a bad deal, no?" He got dangerously close to you, his hot breath fanning over your glossy lips.

You froze for a second, "I-I can't--" Fyodor only traced your lips ominously, like he was taunting you and asking you why.

"I'm still in love with Niko--"

"Dove? Dos?" Your heartbeat stopped when you heard your lover's voice behind you. Why was he here, and how'd he get here so fast?

You turned around, hoping he would save you, until you saw him holding a gun--the same one he used on your husband.

"Kolya, w-wait, this isn't..." You stopped talking when you heard the gun cock. There was no way you could explain your way out of this. You and Fyodor were just about to kiss, and you were trying to escape indefinitely.

Nikolai narrowed his eyes and pointed the gun at Fyodor, "This was your doing, wasn't it?" Fyodor only remained calm, however, and twirled a strand of your hair while smirking.

"No, quite the opposite actually. Our little dove here was just about to escape and go back home to 'make amends'. It seems like she may still be grieving over her husband and their traditional life together..." Nikolai's grip on his gun tightened, still pointed at his friend. "Actually, she was just seducing me to help her escape. A goodbye kiss, that's what you wanted, right, ptichka?" Your ex-patient's eyes narrowed after hearing the similar pet name.

He turned to you, "Is he telling the truth, dove?" You were shaking, still trying to process the situation in front of you.

"N-no! I was trying to escape with Fyodor's help, but that's it! I swear, I still love you--please believe me, Kolya!" You pleaded, practically begging for your life. Nikolai looked at you regrettably before removing the card over his right eye and laughing bitterly.

"And here I was, rushing back to see you once I saw your text because I was worried about you and wanted to talk things out properly. I'm quite the fool aren't I, dove?" He started laughing maniacally, scaring you. He then stopped suddenly and pointed the gun at you, "But I guess this decision was from your own free will. I was wrong for thinking you were the same as me..."

Anxiety settling in, you couldn't react. What was Nikolai going on about? Had Fyodor said something to or manipulated him, too?

"We got rid of your husband, but now you want Dos, too? You're aren't really mine, are you, dove?" He walked closer to you and pressed the cold metal barrel to your hip. "I'll be nice and let you play one last game, though~" He had a crazy look in his eyes--one dark and emotionless, and the other streaming tears; you were sure every feeling was spiraling through his brain.

Nikolai giggled as he pushed you out of the door onto the floor. You were about to get up in fear when you heard a shot in the background. Did he shoot Fyodor?

Deranged laughter was heard behind you as Nikolai peeked his head out the door, "Better start running, dove. Otherwise the next shot might hit you~" You backed up in terror, standing up and stumbling over to Nikolai, wrapping your arms around him and crying hysterically.

"K-Kolya, you're s-scaring me. I-I love you, s-so let's go back t-to n-normal." Nikolai paused against your shaky body and lifted your face up to his. Tears were falling out both of his eyes now, contrasting the wicked grin contorting his lips. You gasped as he wiped your eyes and licked away your tears.

"You look so pretty when you cry, angel. I'll give you an extra ten seconds for that. Ten...nine...eight..." Realizing you had no way to convince Nikolai to spare your life, you ran, not daring to look back behind you. The man you loved was gone, driven mad by his obsession over you. Your skin crawled as you heard his voice reverberating through the hallways.

"I thought you loved me, dove, but it seems I wasn't what you wanted. I got too attached to you, though, and you know too much, so it seems I can't just let you go or give you to another man. You won't escape my cage."

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