Pairing: Duke Yoongi x Princess Reader
Word Count: 6.7K
Summary: When an engagement locks you, the 8th and forgotten princess, to the duke infamous for his cruelty, you find yourself counting the days until your inevitable death. It’s terrifying to think of your end, but when you arrive at his territory, you realize there’s a more morbid reason behind your marriage, and that the duke is much worse than the rumors have painted him out to be.
Warnings: HEAVY yandere themes, mentions of gore and death, near-death experiences, obsessive behaviors, manipulation, dubcon smut (reader is a virgin, fingering, unprotected sex), 18+, explicit language
A/N: Part 1 of Lineage! Took 3 months, a messy outline, and 2 drafts that I decided I hated halfway through writing and deleted before starting over to finish one part. Tags of people who replied to the preview will be added in a reblog. Thank you for everyone who has been waiting and has shown support for the preview of Lineage and my writing account overall! This is inspired by the multitude of Korean webnovels I’ve been reading during quarantine. If you like it, please leave a comment because I will cry out of joy and this took me a WHILE to get out of the drafts. Enjoy!
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 |
‘‘Duke,’’ the king’s teeth chattered in terror as he spoke, his voice low. “What have you come to visit me for?”
Yoongi closed his eyes briefly as if he was in thought. Normally, he’d be furious at the lack of efficiency, but something stopped him from simply slicing the fool’s head off with his sword. After all, there was a much more important matter at hand that he needed to deal with.
‘‘My king, you do,’’ Yoongi spoke slowly,’’ remember our deal, don’t you? I win the war against the bordering kingdom and give you a considerable sum, and you…’’
Yoongi directed a pointed look at the king, and the king flinched before hurrying over to his desk. He fumbled around with the papers on it, even knocking down a stack of sealed and stamped documents with his shaking elbows, before extracting a small silver-framed portrait.
Yoongi could see the tremor in the man’s hands as he handed him the portrait, but Yoongi only exhaled softly, almost as if he was relieved, as he took hold of the small painted picture.
Pretty long-lashed eyes that warmly sparkled despite paint being the only medium used, curved lips like budding flowers, and silky tresses that swooped past her delicate shoulders. The maiden etched into the canvas was not known as a beauty compared to her extravagantly dressed older sisters, but to Yoongi, she was worth much more than the other princesses combined. Yoongi gripped the portrait a little tighter, his hands slightly clammy.
‘‘You wanted the 8th princess, Princess [Y/N], as your bride,’’ the ruler before him sputtered. “As soon as you’re ready, I will have the engagement officially announced.”
Yoongi broke out of his reverie and tucked the portrait into the pocket of his coat before getting up from his seat. ‘’Thank you, my King. I will never forget the kindness you have bestowed upon the House of Min.’’
As Yoongi was about to open the door, the king called out once again.
‘‘Duke Min, if I may ask, why do you have so much interest in the 8th princess? I would have never thought she would suit your preferences. If you wanted, you could have the crown princess. Her beauty is known even in distant lands, and she is skilled—”
Yoongi coldly smiled at the pathetically shivering man, interrupting him sharply,’’ Do not interfere in personal matters, my King. Long live the Sun of the Kingdom.’’
The door clicked shut behind him, and the king sagged further into his extravagantly plush ruby couch. For the first time in his greedy life, the king truly felt sympathy for the young princess he had just sold to the notoriously named Duke of Hell.
You kneaded the dough of the bread firmly down onto the table, flour sticking to the crevices in your palms. The harvest had been plentiful that year, although many of the lands surrounding the kingdom had been ravaged by war, and the small palace, which was more like a shack than anything else compared to the palaces of your older siblings, you had in the royal territory was fortunate enough to receive a small portion of the year’s yield.
You had to be quick about kneading the dough. The weather in the kingdom had been warming up as the seasons changed, and if you dawdled, the dough would stick to the table and you’d spend the next half hour trying to scrape it off the wooden surface. You could feel the sun’s warmth on your back, and you hummed a pleasant melody as you kept working.
There were footsteps outside of your palace, a sharp knock on the door, and you paused. It was strange; no one really visited your palace other than the occasional maid, and their visits had dwindled down to barely showing up after they realized how insignificant your position was in the palace. But the maids never knocked; they always burst in, throwing down a basket of food before running off without so much a word.
Could the person outside be lost?
You hastily grabbed a piece of fabric, tying it around your neck to obstruct the view of your collarbone; this had become a habit you developed when you had been taken to the palace in order to hide the strange mark on your clavicle. You hastily pushed open the door, your fingers still crusted with flour-covered dough. The person outside was dressed in the garbs of a messenger, but you noticed that he looked and acted much too elegant to be in the role of a servant; perhaps he had been more blessed with good looks and manners but had no fortune in status, you mused to yourself.
You must have looked more like a maid than a princess because the messenger in front of the door took one look at you and asked,’’ Could you bring me the 8th princess? I carry a message from the palace.”
You smiled pleasantly. “Sir, you’re speaking to her. Are you lost, perhaps? The crown princess’s palace is down the road, and if you take a left, you’ll be right there.’’
The messenger blinked in surprise, his mouth falling open slightly, and he practically trembled as he realized his mistake. “No, this is a message for you! I’m so sorry, Your Highness; please punish this lowly servant for making such a—!”
You shook your head good-naturedly; you were no tyrant after all, having been born more like your mother, a noble of lower class who, albeit poor, was much more noble than those of higher ranking, than your father, the king. That was a fact that you took pride in.
“What message do you come to bring me? No one quite visits this palace,’’ you questioned.
“Your Highness, the 8th Princess of this Kingdom, I pass a message from the Duke of the House of Min to you. Your marriage has been agreed upon by His Majesty, King [L/N]. The Duke requests that you move into his estate as soon as you can so the preparations for marriage can be efficiently arranged and completed,’’ the messenger spoke.
Your smile stiffened, the edges of your lips curved awkwardly as you took in the message with wide eyes. “My marriage?’’ you managed to keep the tremble away from your voice as you asked the question.
“The Duke himself has personally requested of the king that he be bestowed your hand in marriage, Your Highness. He expects you to be done packing anything you find essential from your home by the morning of tomorrow. The wedding will be held the day after you move into his home.’’
You nearly sputtered in shock at the words of the messenger drifted in one ear and out the other, barely registering properly in your incredulous mind. “The wedding?! Isn’t that too soon? The engagement period usually lasts for at least a few months!’’
The messenger tried to smile, as if comforting the shock-stricken you, and he slowly spoke, hesitating,’’ The duke values efficiency above all else. Might I be so bold to say something? Princess...I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors about the Duke. May they be either bad or good, please keep in mind one thing: you’ll be safe in his estate. He will protect you well. Good day, Your Highness. I wish you good fortune in your marriage to the Duke.’’
The messenger turned and was about to walk away when you called out,” Can I at least know your name?’’
The messenger turned back around, his eyes wide with surprise. Those of the nobility class never asked a lowly servant their name; names were symbols of rank in the upper classes, and thus the nobility did not care much about names when those names marked the identity of the lower classes. You were different from the other nobles. You looked and spoke just like her; no wonder the Duke was so fond of you.
“My name, Your Highness?’’ his voice hesitated as he spoke, his eyes wide in surprise,’’ Namjoon.’’
“Namjoon,’’ you breathed out, your lips that had been strained in an unnatural, forced smile spread into a genuine smile,’’ Thank you.’’
The nobility never thanked a servant, nor did they smile at them with such warmth. To a servant, a lack of punishment was enough.
Namjoon nodded and left your palace. When he was free from view of you and anyone else lurking around your palace, the ground underneath his feet turned an inky black, swirling like an abyss that was ready to swallow him up. Namjoon took one final glance at your palace, his previously dark eyes glowing an ominous red, and his lips that had been shyly smiling at you twisted into a smirk, flashing off two indents in his cheeks. He could see why the Duke, a man so devoid of warmth and humanity that he was a clear reflection of the demonic blood running in his veins, took such interest in you; you were interesting. Something about you drew him in; was it the kindness you showed, or was it just how hungry your smell made him feel? Whatever it was, Namjoon was sure of one thing: the Prophecy was to be fulfilled. Yoongi would make sure of it, after all.
Namjoon vanished from sight, swallowed up in the black that had dyed the soil in dark wisps of air, and the only trace of him left was a sharp acrid scent of smoke.
You closed the door, your hands trembling as you went back to kneading the bread dough. The warmth of the afternoon sun seemed like a chill on your back now as you prodded and shaped the dough into loaves. Since you were to leave the next morning, it seemed like a waste to bake bread; it wasn’t like you were to eat all of them by the time the dawn came. You would go into the city later after they finished baking and give them out; after your marriage to the duke, you were certain that you would receive no more chances to dress up in the garments of a maid and sneak out into the city.
It was unfortunate, was it not? To go from being the daughter of a lowly noble, one who had unfortunately caught the attention of a tyrannical king and ran away from him to the woods only to be caught and killed, to the forgotten but trapped 8th princess to something to be sold off for the selfish gain of another. You were like a lamb going to the slaughter, desperate to live but powerless.
The Duke was notorious for many things, the kinds of things that were gossiped by maids passing by your palace and left goosebumps prickled on your skin. He was a man who killed as easily as he found it to breathe, a man whose very name was used by the children as a way to scare each other. You were certain that you would be no exception to his murderous rage.
After you returned from the city, barely being able to take in the last wisps of life outside of the cage you had been forced in, and packed your remaining items into a small bag, you fell into an uneasy sleep. In your dream, you saw shadowy figures. They screamed and yelled, and you could only stand there as cold metal pierced your body through the collarbone. It hurt so much; it felt like agony ripping away at your skin, and you could feel your own blood rush down your weakening frame. You woke up before the day came to life, your body wracked in a cold sweat that left your eyes wide open in the pitch black of the night.
The carriage of the House of Duke came right as the light of dawn broke upon the horizon, sending splatters of rosy pink and gold light onto the sky’s canvas. You were drowned in the dappling shades of the new day as you handed the bag to the driver, who remained silent after a formal greeting. You took one final look at the building you had spent half of your life in, watching with unblinking eyes as the home that you had spent many lonely days in disappeared from view.
How were you supposed to feel? There was no jittery high of happiness that came from being married, something that was common throughout the romantic novels you had bought from the city; there was only a foreboding sense of doom. Would the Duke kill you once you stepped off the carriage, or would he enjoy the game of hunting and wait?
Although the House of Min had an estate in the capital of the Kingdom near the palace, the Duke preferred living a secluded life away from the tiring politics of the capital. You understood him on that. The ride was not long to the territory, however; the rich could afford paying to use the small portal stones to travel, which were remnants from the times that there had been magic and gods in the world. What would have been a trip lasting two weeks was narrowed down to a trip of 9 hours.
You arrived at the territory in the early afternoon, your body sore from having remained seating for such an extended period of time; you only had two breaks throughout the trip, one to empty your bladder and another to eat a small lunch at an inn. As you stepped from the carriage down to the ground in front of the manor, your mouth dropped in shock at the size of the Duke’s land. The wealth of the Duke was vast but to see it in person was astonishing. You recalled the trip through his territory; as the magical portal had been on the cusp of his territory and the outer lands, the trip to his estate from that magical portal had taken a solid 2 hours of your trip.
The land for just his estate was large; you could not see the edge of the estate’s land that you had previously entered in earlier. His main manor building loomed above you like a fortress, spiraling black buildings and shadowy crevices, and you felt a wave of anxiety rise in your throat. The manor of the Duke was more like a fortress with its sturdy, impenetrable walls and dark atmosphere. A chill ran down your spine, prickling goosebumps on your otherwise smooth skin, as your eyes scanned the buildings on the estate. There was only one word that could properly describe them: ominous.
Even the atmosphere of the maids lined up in front of you in greeting had you unconsciously tensing, your jaw clenched slightly. You could see their eyes; they were haunting in the way they were so devoid of emotion. You were familiar with how maids were like; they always had some form of emotion in their eyes: either a sickly sweetness as they itched for favor or a mocking expression that didn’t conceal their spite. You fought back a shiver when you heard them open their mouths, their voices in perfect unison as they spoke.
“Welcome, Your Highness, to the Estate of the House of Min. We look forward to serving you from now and into the future.’’
Three of the maids stepped forward, their steps aligned perfectly and their bows matching. They dipped their heads, and one of them spoke. She looked middle-aged, older than the other maids, but the look on her face matched theirs.
“We will be the main maids serving you. I am the head maid of the manor. As the future Duchess of the House of Min, everyone at the manor is at your service. The Duke will—.’’
She paused; you heard a crunching of something underfoot in the silence of the courtyard. Was it stone? The smile that you had forced on your face froze, uncomfortably stiff.
“Welcome, my fiancé,’’ you heard a voice call out. The voice unnerved you more than the expressionless looks on the maids had; it sounded cordial and low, pleasant to the ears even. If your ears had been untrained to the sounds of the nobility, you might even have mistaken it for affection, but you knew that there was no true emotion in the voice, or at least that’s what you assumed. No warm voice could make you feel so terrified after all. You, however, didn’t notice the brief look of shock in the staff in front of you; never, in the whole time they had been serving the Duke, had he sounded so gentle.
You looked toward the sound, your fear cleanly masked by your frozen smile; after being mocked by the queen, concubines, and their children as a child with lowly blood, you were good at training your expressions. The more you squirmed, the sicker the nobles’ expressions got, which is why you spent your later years at the palace hiding away in your palace, hoping that you would continue to be forgotten. The Duke was no exception to this; if you crumbled before him, he was sure to crush you under his polished shoe. You couldn’t die yet. You had not much to live for, that you admit, but the core essence of humanity was its desire to survive. To live.
The Duke stood before you. His demeanor was elegant, but you could sense an imposing aura radiating from him. He was good-looking, though; from the rumors you had heard from passing maids, you envisioned a hideous monster with sharp teeth and claws for hands who would rip out your throat for breathing too loudly. He looked like a statue delicately carved by an artist with his smooth, white skin, like alabaster and marble, and sharp, handsome features. His nose slanted gorgeously, his jawline was strong, and his lips were softly curved.
But the most distinct feature of his were his eyes. They were shaped elegantly, curving in a refined shape, but it was the color that left your feet glued to the ground. You had heard the rumors but seeing it in person was another ordeal. His eyes were a vibrant shade of crimson, the color of freshly spilled blood, and there was an eerie depth to them. They were, you recalled, the eyes of the devil. A chilling thought came to your mind as you stared into his eyes. They were the same color as the mark on your neck. You unconsciously tightened your fingertips around the scarf you had carefully looped around your neck.
“What has your mind so distracted?’’ the Duke smiled, but although you should have felt calmed by the sight, his smile unnerved you for some reason,’’ Everything has been properly arranged for our wedding tomorrow, if that is what you are scared of. If you desire, you may look over the plans and arrange it however you like.’’
The Duke had walked closer to you when you hadn’t been paying attention, and you flinched when he reached out towards you, his fingertips brushing the side of your cheek affectionately. Your heartbeat raced in your chest; however, instead of the giddy heart thrumming that was depicted in romantic novels, your heartbeat racing was purely because of anxiety. The presence of the Duke made you feel like a small prey in front of the menacing gaze of an apex predator. Would he snap your head off? Twist your delicate neck in his hands?
He took his touch away from your cheek as your thoughts raced, his fingers snagging into your scarf accidentally. The scarf fell down to the ground, and his eyes widened in glee slightly. Your hand flew to your clavicle, covering the mark there. You didn’t know why, but something in your gut told you to not let him near the mark. His eyes glowed for a split second, the color of a polished ruby glistening in light, before dimming back to their normal color; you blinked rapidly, wondering if you had imagined the change.
“My deepest apologizes, Your Highness. You must be exhausted from your trip. We don’t want you too tired for our wedding. Your maids will take you to the room you will be staying in tonight,’’ the Duke smiled politely once again, hesitantly stepping back, his composure poised,’’ I am looking forward to our union. Rest up. I have a meeting later, so unfortunately, we won’t be sharing a meal tonight.’’
He turned to leave, his eyes lingering on your collarbone, and you stayed glued to the ground, your hand still covering your mark. The head maid reached out with another scarf in her hands, and you took it, your fingers trembling slightly, before wrapping it around your neck. You knotted it two more times than usual this time, your eyes trained on the Duke’s retreating back.
You did not notice it at the time, your mind too busy wandering in your thoughts, but the previously emotionless expressions on the maids’ faces flickered with fear before quickly shifting back. As you turned your gaze back towards them, you mused to yourself once more. How odd was it that their expressions had not changed even once?
The room you were staying in was lovely; of course, that was to be expected from one of the top noble families in the kingdom, if not the whole land. Billowy drapes hung from vast windows, detailed gold embroidery sparkling in the brightening sunlight, and there were expensive pieces of furniture adorning the large room. The price of one of the candlesticks would be enough to cover the expenses of a peasant family for a year.
You had an unrestful sleep; nightmares plagued your dreams once again. They were more vivid this time, and you could still feel the agony of cold metal piercing through your soft flesh. The mark on your collarbone seemed to throb and burn against your skin, and you dragged your nails against it, trying to quell the itching sting. You somehow fell asleep once more, and when you woke up, the dreams had vanished from your mind, and the only remnants of your nightmares was a clammy coldness that lingered on your body and red lines on your mark from your nails.
You heard a knock on the door.
“Your Highness, may we come in? We will be preparing you for the wedding,’’ you recognized the voice of the head maid.
You inhaled a deep breath, trying to recover from your body’s cold sweat and slow the frantic pounding of your heart before calling out calmly,’’ Come in.’’
The maids came in, walking in calmly with their hands full of items.
The head maid was the one who had spoken outside, and as she walked near you, you held out a wary hand.
“If you are to serve me, I must know your name,’’ you spoke, trying to put on the dignified airs that was similar to the queen, or your stepmother, though you refused to refer to her with that title.
“My name, Your Highness?’’ the head maid looked taken aback, her eyes on the floor,’’ I’m sorry, but the names of servants are an insignificant thing to be known in this household. I only go by my position, here, as head maid. If you wish to know my name to have me punished, please just ask for the head maid to be punished.’’
You could tell that this was some unspoken rule and forced down the part of you that wished to rebel and find her name. If you were to pressure her over something so mild, unpleasant rumors would spring forth.
You followed their directions silently as they prepared you, and you ate small bites of the meal they had laid out when you had completed your morning routine. They then changed you into your wedding garment, tying up the corset around your torso so tightly that you could barely breathe when they were done. You could feel their gazes lingering on the mark you had on your collarbone; you were used to the looks, the mockery and the disdain, but their gazes were different. Was it curiosity? Hell, admiration? Or perhaps, fear?
Hours stretched and passed as they worked on your hair and makeup. Your scalp and skin were prodded at by them as they worked to prepare you. When they were finally done, you caught sight of yourself in the mirror and was left breathless at your reflection.
Your hair had been coiled up in an elaborate up-do and decorated with sparkling hair pieces that weighed down your head. The dress was made by one of the capital’s top designers and fit you perfectly, as if the measurements of your body were known by the Duke’s Household down to a tee; it showed off your neck and the mark on your neck, and when you had asked to find something to cover the mark up, the maids shook their heads.
“The Duke wishes for this style of dress; unfortunately, nothing can be used to cover up your neck properly, and the dress can not be changed,’’ the head maid told you.
The dress, other than expose society’s stigma imprinted upon your flesh, was gorgeous. It was a pure white, sparkling with small pieces of carefully cut diamond, and tastefully accentuated by delicately beaded pearls. It wrapped around your torso and flared out into wide, layered skirts, a style that was extremely trendy in the capital. You looked stunning in the dress.
The maids had done extremely well on your makeup too; your skin glowed and was soft like a baby, and your lips were reddened to the color of cherries. Your cheeks were reddened as well, a blush delicately touching your cheeks. You looked ethereal, like a mystical being descending upon earth, though you embarrassingly believed that it was rather conceited of you to think that.
The head butler—you vaguely remembered him from the staff yesterday, although he had not spoken a word to you after the initial greeting—guided you to a carriage silently after politely greeting you, which led down to the church building in which you were to be married in.
Your fingers twisted in your fine white skirts as the rush of anxiety churned in your gut; you were grateful that your breakfast had been light, or else you would have hurled it all over the floor of the carriage.
You somehow managed to keep it together, even when you stepped down from the carriage. You even managed to keep your composure together as you walked towards the Duke, standing in front of the church, with the Kingdom’s Priest standing behind him. The church was filled to the brim with people, mostly nobles who vied for some connection with the Duke. You could even see the King in the front, watching you with eyes that told you not to mess your marriage up.
You even managed to keep it together underneath the burning sting of the Duke’s eyes as the Priest recited aloud the vows of marriage. You gazed back into the Duke’s eyes, watching the reflection of the sunset’s lights glow in their cold depths as the priest concluded the ceremony.
“May this couple’s union, placed together by the holy goddess of creation that had formed the earth, be a blessing upon the Kingdom.’’
You felt the mark on your collarbone throb slightly, a dull ache, but, in that moment, you had believed it to be a part of the bone-aching exhaustion that had settled deep into your body’s marrow.
The first duty of marriage was the consummation of it. You were aware of what went on, having ventured off into the city and gotten your hands onto romance novels that had their fair share of obscene scenes, but to be experiencing it firsthand, that was something that terrified you. The pain of having your virginity taken had been described in detail in the novels, and you could feel a pit of nerves form as the maids led you to get prepared for your first night as a married couple.
The maids bathed you, as the head maid crooned to you low in your ear the duty you were to fulfill. They rubbed fragrant rose oils into your skin, as the head maid repeated over and over the instructions and her condolences for the night, and dressed you in a nightgown—it was a soft, clear pink that scandalously showed off your figure—that was more like an undergarment than anything.
Then, the maids led you to the room you were to share with your husband. As the head maid was about to open the door, she spoke one last time,’’ Duchess, I have done my best to inform you of your first night. May the fortune of the goddess of creation bless you upon your first night as the Duke’s wife.’’
The room was dark when you stepped in, and it would have been pitch black had it not been for the wispy pale rays of moonlight glowing through the large glass windows. This room, through your adjusting vision, was certainly much more beautiful and elegant than the room you had used for your temporary one-night stay. You saw the Duke standing in front of one of the windows, his eyes on you, unnervingly unblinking. Although his gaze remained eerie, you could not deny the ethereal beauty that radiated off of him as he watched you with ruby eyes.
As you were admiring his looks, you noticed that he had taken steps forward before pausing before you. His eyes looked at yours before roaming your body, and you noticed that there was an almost carnal hunger glowing in his crimson-red eyes. He looked starving, and you realized, unconsciously wrapping your arms around your body, that you were the meal he was to satiate his hunger with.
You could not help but flinch when the Duke pulled you forward into his arms and kissed you, his lips harsh against your own as he stole your breath from your lungs. His teeth snagged into your bottom lip, digging into it. There was nothing gentle in the kiss; nothing sweet and romantically sentimental like what had been described in romance novels.
His hands, the palms roughened from his days on the battlefield, caressed your body, slipping underneath your night gown. You gasped breathlessly against his mouth at the cool touch on your warm body, a sound that was swallowed up by his lips as his tongue delved into your mouth, and you clung onto the thin fabric of his night clothes.
“D-duke,’’ you managed to breath out shakily when he finally broke away from this kiss. You were about to say something more, but the sight of your lips, bruised and swollen from the Duke’s harsh kiss caused his eyes to darken in lust.
“When you are with just me, call me Yoongi,’’ he rasped, and the sound of his voice near your ear caused pleasurable shivers to travel down your spine. You felt something wet between your legs, and your cheeks flushed in shyness, your eyes widening in embarrassment. That look of pure innocence seemed to cause something in the infamously cool-headed Duke to snap. Yoongi’s actions were more hurried as he practically tore the dainty dress from your body, and the breath in your chest was knocked out as you were thrown onto the large bed.
His touch felt like it was burning against your body as it touched you in intimate ways. You tried to block his touch anxiously, but he simply brushed off your hands as if you had no strength; against his overpowering strength, you were utterly weak. You closed your eyes anxiously when you felt him suck bruises into your neck and then on your breasts, leaving bite marks blooming on your quivering skin like roses on silk, but you felt a sharp ache in your jaw as he grabbed your chin harshly and lifted your head to face him.
“Look at me. I want you to witness your first night with me, my beloved wife.’’
His voice was sharp despite the pained rasp coating its tone, radiating with an authority so powerful that you found yourself snapping open your eyes to look at him in mute shock. In the dim lighting of the night, with only the ghosts of the moon to leave a sheen of waning light on his handsome face, the Duke—no, Yoongi—looked lethal.
Your mouth fell open in a wide o-shape when his touch brushed down your soft breasts to your stomach and then finally to the most intimate spot on your body. His index finger swirled around your bud, sparking little shocks down your spine before venturing lower. His first finger stretched your walls, going deep into the sacred garden that had been guarded since you had been born, and you could only pant helplessly. There was a buzz in your head, something heady that you couldn’t quite put your finger on, as Yoongi touched places deep within you.
He added another finger and the another, and your mind spun as your walls stretched and clung onto his fingers. You clutched onto his clothes tighter, holding your breath, as he explored your walls. He dragged his fingers out, his movements slow and gentle, before he slammed them viciously into you; you choked on a sound that was a mix between a gasp and a moan. He repeated the movements until you were writhing under his touch before pulling his fingers out of you. His fingers were drenched in a honey-like substance, and you, with your ears burning, watched as he sucked on his fingers.
“My beloved wife, my goddess,’’ Yoongi’s voice sounded ragged, as if he was about to fall apart, and his fingers, sticky with dried saliva and your essence, curled up under his garments and peeled them off,’’ I can’t wait any longer.’’
“W-wait,’’ you stuttered out pathetically as he pushed something firm but soft and undeniably hot against your garden. Yoongi paid no heed to your word as he pushed into your walls mercilessly without so much a pause, and your heart raced as you realized what was invading your innocence. There was a throbbing agony as he got deeper and deeper, a feeling that was much more painful than his fingers had been. You clung onto his shoulders when he finally stopped moving in, tears building up in your eyes and dripping down your cheeks. When the head maid and your romance novels had talked about the pain, they had described the pain as fleeting, a sharp pinch that faded away quickly. This was different; you could feel your lower regions burning in agony as they stretched and trembled around Yoongi’s length.
At the sight of your tears, the look on Yoongi’s face was practically feral. Without waiting for you to get accustomed to the feeling of your purity being torn apart, Yoongi pulled out and slammed back in, his hips setting a tormenting pace that made you squeal in pain.
“Please pull out; oh my God,’’ you gasped out, your nails digging into his skin,’’ It hurts, it hurts so bad.’’
Yoongi let out a grunt in response, his breath choppy as he forced his voice from his throat. “The pain will go away soon. If we don’t fulfill our first duty of marriage, then the marriage will be considered void by law. Do you want that? The next man the King marries you to…’’
Yoongi’s eyes turned deadly, as if the thought of another man even touching you set him on a murderous outrage, and you trembled at the idea. The next man would undeniably be a portly, greasy lower noble, who would take you as his concubine as your purity had already been taken by the Duke. Your future children would be spat on by those around them, an experience that you had gone through but would never wish on your children.
Yoongi spoke again, a question this time. “Will you endure the temporary pain, or will you refuse and endure a much more lasting pain as someone who lost her purity but did not fulfill her first duty?’’
You could feel him inside you, pulsing and twitching, and you swallowed your nerves. Although Yoongi had worded it as a choice, you knew it was not. It was anything but. You already knew the decision you had to take before he finished asking.
“Please,’’ you begged, softening your voice in order to incite some pity from this brute of a man,’’ Be more gentle?’’
His lips twisted into a carnivorous smile, something that caught you off guard and left you in a short daze, and his only answer was him pulling out of you before pushing back in. The pain was rough at first, but you could tell that the Duke had taken into consideration your plea, at least he did so at first. When the first pricks of pleasure sparked in your gut, your head slammed back and you moaned before panting out a shameless,’’ Duke, Yoongi, please, faster.’’
You looked ravishing in this state; marks littered on your soft skin, and your face in an arousing expression with your swollen lips parted open in shaky breaths and your eyes glazed in desire. You looked like the embodiment of sin itself against the pure white sheets of the bed. The constraints that Yoongi had placed on himself snapped, his hips slamming against you hard, an erotic sound of the clapping of skin echoing in the night, that left your skin feeling heated and flushed. You only mewled in response as he began to pound into your body. He was animalistic, the cold airs he had been encased in dropped as a rosy flush tinted his pale marble face. You felt like you were being intoxicated by the sensations of pleasure and sin.
He pushed in even deeper than before, and you felt an uncomfortable pain as his length pushed against your cervix. Your air left your lungs at the feeling, and your nails dug even further into the Duke’s broad shoulders, leaving drops of blood in its wake. The Duke didn’t even flinch at the pain, burying his head into your shoulder to let out an almost growl-like noise. You were so fucking tight; it was like you were squeezing around him, refusing to let him go.
You felt sensitive, your nerves heightened as the whirl of pleasure building in your gut climbed. Your eyes remained wide open, your dizzy mind remembering the Duke’s earlier command, and your back arched slightly as a wave of pleasure crashed into you. Your vision went blurry as you crashed into your first climax; you were coming, tightening around him so hard that your mind went completely blank.
You could feel Yoongi’s teeth sink into your collarbone, a flash of white digging into your red mark, and the pain coupled with the pleasure cascading onto your limp body caused you to let out a lewd choked moan. Yoongi slammed into you, his pace steady and stable as his breath grew more erratic, before he pushed deep into you, a groan pulling out deep from his chest. You felt something hot spill into the depths of your body, and your fingers and toes twitched at the feeling.
You were exhausted as he pulled out of you. He was still painfully hard, but you were so tired, and the lull of sleep was so tempting. Your vision blurred, and your eyes drooped shut as you fell into an unconscious state, ignoring the pulsing sting of your collarbone. The last thing you saw before you were swept up in a rush of sleep was a flash of red eyes, the look of them so vivid against the darkness of the deep night, and Yoongi licking off droplets of your blood off of his lips, his lips curved up in a menacing smile.
“Goodnight, my beloved wife,’’ Yoongi spoke out into the silence, his fingers reaching out to entwine themselves into strands of your hair,’’ May the dreams that reach you be a blessing.’’
He brought up a stand of your hair to his lips, his lips touching it tenderly.
“And may our marriage bring us both fortune beyond what humanity can perceive, my Goddess.’’
A/N: if you want to be tagged in the next part, please reply with a 👑! And if you liked the story, please leave a comment or a review! Thank you so much for being here for my writing journey :) I’ll do my best to keep improving.
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do you have any yandere bts recommendations?
Sure sis, tbh I LOVE yandere content and I have read countless stories so this is just the few stories that I can come up with off the top of my head rn 👇🏻
I ADORE this author and her yandere exo series plus her ask my muse honestly inspired me to do my own. I highly recommend everyone check out the Monster Yandere Exo series but since you asked for BTS, @mint-yooxgi has two so far👇🏻
Haunted- Yandere! Ghost! Jungkook x Reader
Falling for you- Yandere! Fallen Angel! x Reader
Okay so this is unorthodox but I’m gonna recommend a WHOLE blog bc their reactions and drabbles are just god teir yandere content. @bangtans-apollo but their stories are these two here, both ongoing👇🏻
Euphonious- Siren/ Yandere Jungkook x Reader
Mesonoxian- Yandere, Hybrid and Mafia Jimin x reader. (Some slight Jk and YG too)
A Knight Of Wonder by @shitpostingftw is BRILLIANT. Yandere Yoonji(gender bend) and queen au x reader. it’s steak sauce I swear to god, the only reason it’s not the first one I listed down is bc it took me a fat minute to find but yeah💗💗💗💗
Embroidery by @bibbykins is so well written and gorgeous and It’s a soft yandere Taehyung but it’s still there and it’s PHENOMENAL.
I honestly don’t knew a lot of stories with Namjoon, Jin or Hoseok so pls plug some in the comments if u know of any💗💗
kk so here is one other one I wanna drop in here bc it’s so good but so few ppl talk about it for some reason and it’s an Exo Sehun one but it’s by far one of the best yandere stories ever so pls give it a read even tho it’s not bts👇🏻
Limerence by @heebiejbies. Obsessive/Yandere Sehun x OC. It’s one of the best series I’ve ever read. The writer is so good bc you get to see Sehun’s descent into madness and in a weird way you understand him bc the character development is marvelous. HIGHEST RECOMMENDATION!💗💗
Please give all of these amazing authors the love and attention they deserve. Honestly nothing warms a writers heart than seeing the readers complimenting us in our inbox so pls show them ur appreciation so they can create more beautiful pieces. Also check out my stories bc lmao self plug 🤪
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My Masterlist :)
GUIDELINES FOR MAKING REQUESTS (CLOSED LOL SORRY GUYS)
↳ click here to read
↳ click here to read
↳ click here to read
↳ click here to read
↳ click here to read
↳ click here to read
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↳ click here to read
(these are not hard boundaries, there will be some overlap)
Love You A Latte
➵ You have always wanted a story book romance, no matter how many times your friends tell you it’s unrealistic, and even unhealthy to have such high expectations. You can’t help but yearn for the one who will make your heart sing, who will captivate you with one word, who will treat you like you’re worth more than anything else in the world… and then Park Jimin crashes into your life, with a pretty smile and a warm cup of vanilla latte with your name on it.
pairing: jimin x reader
soft yandere, mfeeu! verse, brief smut
➵ You’re Taehyung’s perfect little doll, so when you aren’t so perfect, pretending you don’t like his hugs and kisses, pretending you don’t like him, Taehyung teaches you a little lesson using his other, different toys.
pairing: taehyung x reader
hard yandere, drugging, threat of body mutilation (non-graphic)
Loving Is Easy
➵ For your first date, Jungkook wants to take you somewhere perfect. Unfortunately for you, he’s decided that for it to be ‘perfect’, it has to be a surprise…
pairing: jungkook x reader
soft yandere, fluff, first kisses
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18+ | WATTPAD | AO3 | I do not use any other platforms for my fiction.
© sombreboy 2020-2021
Do not edit, re-post or translate my work.
What is the number next to every link? My xtremity scale provides the level of yandere the piece contains. 1 being very mild and 10 involving extreme themes.
Please check warnings on each individual piece before reading!
All my content is explicit unless specifically stated otherwise.
Last update ⇢July 12, 2021
⇢ Daffodil nightmares | yandere!kth x fem!oc 
⇢ Expensive doll | jjk x pjm
⇢ Shared obsession | jjk x pjm x knj
⇢ Flesh | pjm & kth x fem/y/n . 
⇢ Yandere!Seokjin HC | Seokjin is jealous when he finds out you like someone, not knowing that this someone is him… Well, until you tell him 
⇢ Crazy beautiful | Seokjin gives you the attention that you truly deserve. 
⇢ Taste | ksj solo masturbation
⇢ Shared obsession | jjk x pjm x knj
⇢ uhgood | knj x male reader | You teased your boyfriend all day, and the very moment the two of you came home, he reminds you who’s in charge.
⇢ Descend | demon!knj x Y/N | Summoning the demon lord doesn’t come without a price.
⇢ Split | snake hybrid pjm x female reader
⇢ The alpha | You knew that deep down you desired someone strong and powerful, someone superior to you, to take and claim you as their own—their plaything.
⇢ Misguidance | You arrange a meeting with a hired dom for the night, whom (mis)guides you through the pleasures of pain.
⇢ Two is better than one | pjm x myg x male reader | Collab with @chimoona
⇢ Expensive doll | jjk x pjm
⇢ Shared obsession | jjk x pjm x knj
⇢ Mused obsession series | yandere!jjkx pjm  (xtremity is based on it’s entirety.)
⇢ Treasure | The dragon hybrid lures you into his forest to claim you as his plaything. 
⇢ Unsullied |(E) pjm has an extreme obsession with you, and one night he was taken away from you... But he came back, always will come back to make sure you know who you belong to. 
⇢ Scented |Your snake hybrid smells another hybrid on you, and punishment follows. 
⇢ Flesh | pjm & kth x fem/y/n . 
⇢ Friends | pjm & kth kidnaps you to use you as their personal plaything. 
⇢ Locked up, chained down | pjm locks you up and does whatever he pleases with you. 
⇢ Please, noona | Switch!jjk x female reader
⇢ Love Maze Series Index | Taehyung x Jungkook
⇢ Wedding night | Taehyung x Jungkook
⇢ Sounding | Taehyung x Jungkook
⇢ Distraction | Taehyung x Jungkook
⇢ Tease me | Taehyung x Jungkook
⇢ Dining out | Taehyung x Jungkook
⇢ Quality time | Taehyung x Jungkook
⇢ Expensive doll | jjk x pjm
⇢ Shared obsession | jjk x pjm x knj
⇢ Mused obsession series | yandere!jjkx pjm  (xtremity is based on it’s entirety.)
⇢ Clipped wings | Prince jjk x female reader 
⇢ Dare | jjk x fem/y/n. 
⇢ First love | jjk x femdom/y/n 
⇢ Love Maze Series Index | Taehyung x Jungkook
⇢ Wedding night | Taehyung x Jungkook
⇢ Sounding | Taehyung x Jungkook
⇢ Distraction | Taehyung x Jungkook
⇢ Tease me | Taehyung x Jungkook
⇢ Dining out | Taehyung x Jungkook
⇢ Quality time | Taehyung x Jungkook
⇢ Flesh | pjm & kth x fem/y/n . 
⇢ Friends | pjm & kth x fem/y/n .
⇢ Bleeding love | kth x fem!y/n. 
⇢ Daffodil dreams |murder!suspect!yandere!taehyung x therapist!F 
⇢ Daffodil nightmares | murder!suspect!yandere!taehyung x therapist!F 
⇢ Bad kitten |Your owner jhs finds out that you’ve been playing with the neighbor hybrid, and he decides to discipline you.
⇢ Demon’s whore | demon!jhs x angel!female reader 
⇢ Who’s your king? | Your king is your lover, and he loves to see how much you worship him.
⇢ Two is better than one | pjm x myg x male reader | Collab with @chimoona
⇢ Corrupted |Your boss craves you with every fibre of his being, so he claims you. 
⇢ I will wait |He confesses his feelings for you, but you don’t feel the same... Right now. 
⇢ 00:00 | Your vampire neighbor knocks on your door as the clock strikes zero, his desires for you too strong to ignore any longer. 
⇢ The heist p.1 | Seven men, one dream.
To be rich, without having to work a day longer in their lives.
Solution? A bank heist.
They were just lucky to find a new plaything in the midst of it.
© sombreboy 2020-2021. Do not edit, repost or translate.
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Mafia!Yandere BTS REACTION: you’re scared ☾
The request: Hi, Can I request a bts Mafia au reaction where you are terrified of guns and killing even though he is in the Mafia? Thank you!💜💜
Sorry I didn’t write requests nor reactions for awhile 😢 I don’t really like this either, so i’m sorry
☾ ☾ ☾
Because Jin seek perfection between him and you, he never really waved his gun against your face, if we’re being honest, with the time flowing you had almost forgotten what his job really was.
But no matter the perfect image he had created for both of you, it really wasn’t that case the night when Jin appeared with blood on his white shirt and, of course, a gun in his hands.
“I’m home Jagi” he happily yelled walking towards you, the metallic pistol almost reflecting the room lights.
You felt clammy and there was the glisten of a cold sweat forming on your skin. He stood in front of you with a frown growing on his face. His fingertips softly touched your forehead, wiping away the drops.
“Are you sick?”
Instead of answering a whimper escaped your lips as you felt the gun press against your thigh. Jin followed your sight before gasping loudly throwing the gun away and pulling you into a tight hug.
“Ah jagi, my sweetheart, you have nothing to be afraid of, as long as you wait for me to come back every day, I will never hurt you”.
Yoongi truly lived a life of Hannah Montana, inside your house he would was your sweetheart boyfriend, outside the house a coldhearted murder.
His work was never a real problem, you never asked, he never talked. That was the perfect balance both of you enjoyed, until that day when for an unknown reason Yoongi had decided you were a target of someone else.
“Just hold it firmly and try not to jump too much when you fire it” he murmured, his hands pressed to yours as you held the gun in your hands.
You couldn’t help but feel shaky, the fear was rushing through your veins as if it was another form of blood.
“Hey hey, eyes on the target, you don’t want to accidentally shoot yourself” he taught gently tugging your head up.
You focused your attention towards the target, but you just couldn’t let yourself put pressure to the target. You fell down on your knees with tears running down your cheeks.
“I can’t do it, just take it away” you cried, hiding yourself in the crook of Yoongi’s neck.
“I’m sorry princess, this was a bad idea anyway, no one will land a finger on you, they will never get past me”
It was truly conflicting to try and imagine Hoseok as a member of one of the biggest mafias.
One, he was definition of sun and happiness.
Two, he would cling to you for his dearest life whenever you would watch a horror movie.
But life isn’t a movie and Hoseok would do anything to save you.
With trembling hands you stood in the middle of a room that once were pure white, but now was covered in dark red and sticky liquid.
There laid five expressionless men who rested on a pool of mild cerise substance.
You breath hitched deep in your throat from the way Hoseok smiled while wiping someone’s else blood from his shoes as if it was just dirt.
“H-hoseok” shutting your eyes you managed to whisper.
Like waking from some kind of trance Hoseok rushed to you pulling you into a hug.
“I’m sorry you had to witness it, but they have know what happens when they dare to mess with you”
You knew he was trained not to cry, not to feel anything when killing someone and you knew it wasn’t the real him. But the image kept coming back to you, the empty and shallow look he had in his eyes when he killed a young male with bare hands.
It haunted you.
The two of you sat eating dinner, well really he was the only one eating, you were afraid you’d puke your guts out if you tried to swallow anything. Your eyes kept following his hands, the hands of a murderer.
Suddenly he stopped eating, his full attention on you, the uncomfortable silence crept on you and you couldn’t help but cut it.
“Don’t kill me” you whispered.
For a moment he looked confused but soon he was next to you, the strong aura around him made your stomach lurch and heart to ache.
He cupped your face and lifted your chin up.
“You know I would never do that, I love you too much” he said kissing your forehead softly, deep down making plans how to keep you away from witnessing anything like that again.
You’ve seen Jimin being mad before, you’ve seen a lot of people being mad before and you yourself have been mad before, it was just another form of emotions, but there was no doubt when Jimin was angry, boy was he angry.
Jimin barged into your apartment, his eyes were narrowed, rigid, cold, hard. His customary warmth was gone, his whole ‘mochi’ self was long vanished in the thin air.
You didn’t want to seem scared because that would only make him more angry or that’s what you thought, but the moment the words slipped from his lips about how he couldn’t kill a man because his children show up and he didn’t want to deal with the mess of three people, you couldn’t help but grip your book tighter to the point where your knuckles turned white, you could even feel the tears appear in the corners of your eyes.
“Princess?” Jimin asked once he noticed the state you were in.
“D-don’t come closer to me” you managed to mumble, still trying to make your breath steady.
Jimin froze, he hated when he was the reason of your anxiety.
“You saw his children and you didn’t kill him just because of the mess? Jimin that’s j-just monstrous”.
Jimin’s face softened and he kneeled down to you before letting his head rest on your lap.
“Don’t say that, princess, I’m not a monster, I just want to protect you” and as crazy as it sounds, you knew he wasn’t one.
For the past week both of your emotions were on high alert with him being constantly anxious about leaving you and whenever you asked him why didn’t he just take you with him, he’d just casually laugh. That irritated you the most, him acting as if you were a child.
There was no surprise that by the end of the week both of you were screaming.
“Stop acting like I’m a four year old! I’m not weak” you shouted trying to prove your point.
But he just laughed, the laughter evaporating from his eyes as he walked towards you.
Your breath hitched as he took a gun out of his pocket before pushing it into your hands. You were too scared to notice the safety lock being pulled on.
“W-hat?” you almost cussed at your shaky voice, weren’t you trying to prove that you were not scared or weak?
“If you want to go with me, show me you can protect yourself” he said looking you straight in the eyes.
“I wouldn’t need to protect myself Tae, when I’m with you, I’m safe” lowering your head you mumbled.
The rage from his eyes were gone and it was filled with pure love once again.
“Oh jagi, you’re right, but it’s still too dangerous for you, the best part of my day is coming back home and seeing you safe”
Jungkook was a stubborn protective boyfriend, he would call you every hour to check in if you were safe and alive. So sometimes he was quite a challenge to deal with, although most of the times your arguments would end up in hot make out sessions.
Jungkook wraps his arms around from behind, His right hand drops to your thigh, pulling up the skirt that hangs so loose just above your knees. He turns you around and you tumble to the couch, his eyes searching yours.
His head moves around to your left ear and he whispers what he’s going to do next. But suddenly all the lust from you vanishes and you push him away when you feel something hard push against your thigh and it’s definitely not the bulge growing in his pants, rather a gun.
Noticing the fear growing in your eyes he kisses your nose before taking out the metallic tool and putting it on your table.
“Really?” you ask still a little shaky, but there’s slight playfulness in your voice.
Jungkook whines getting up and taking the gun away from your eyes.
“You know you don’t have to scared of me, right?” he asks turning around and grins once he sees you nodding.
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Ours (yandere! rapline x reader)
You've always known that Namjoon, Yoongi and Hoseok are ‘dangerous’, but when one of your classmates decides to try and approach you, you learn just how dangerous they really are....
Warnings: 18+ DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE A MINOR, Yandere behaviour, possessive behaviour, graphic sex scenes, Dom/sub dynamics, name-calling, face-fucking, comeplay (this is rly nasty y’all I'm sorry)
Word Count: 3.4K
a/n: thanks to anon who requested rapline x reader when a guy tries to approach reader! tbh that part only accounts for like the beginning and the end and the rest of it is just smut y’all im sorry idk how this happened lmao
“I’m sorry, what was your name again?”
The man in front of you slumps slightly, before mumbling out a desolate “Jongin,”
“Well, listen, Jongin, uh, it’s really flattering that you… think of me like that, but I’m not single, so… sorry?”
The man shuffles off without another word, disappearing into the library stacks, head bowed in embarrassment. You cringe slightly. Jongin was your partner for a group project a while ago and ever since then you’ve been able to feel his gaze trail over you sometimes during class, but you never thought he would actually make a move on you.
It’s pretty well-known at your college that you’re not available. Your boyfriends take pains to make it as clear as possible. They even have a rota, taking turns to pick you up each day after class, each time in a ridiculously ostentatious car. This morning you had been dropped off in Hoseok’s red Aston Martin, and you’re pretty sure it is Namjoon’s turn to pick you up in the Lamborghini once you’re finished studying.
Even though your boyfriends always want to hear everything about your day with no detail omitted, you decide to not disclose the fact that one of your classmates had approached you. Jongin was a nice guy, after all, and you didn’t want to see him come in one day covered in bruises, or worse, not come in at all.
Your phone buzzes, and you start putting away your books without even having to check who it is. Only your boyfriends have your number now — they bought you a new phone because the old one mysteriously went missing. You take a quick glance anyway.
[groupchat: You, Yoongi, Hoseok, Namjoon]
I’m outside waiting for you, Princess.
I’ll be out in a sec!
Can’t wait to see you! <33333
You tap out a few brief responses — they hate to be left on read — before swinging your bag over your shoulder and leaving the library. As you expected, Namjoon is leaning against the Lamborghini illegally parked in front of the main entrance, subject to more than a few admiring glances tossed his way, though you can’t tell whether they’re checking out the car or him.
As soon as he sees you, his full lips tug into a smile, exposing his dimples as he reaches out to take your bag for you. You go up on tiptoes to kiss his cheek in thanks, and pretend that you don’t feel a curl of smug possessiveness flare up when you see the girl who was checking him out scowl and turn back to her friends.
He opens the door for you and helps you into the car, before walking around to place your bag in the trunk and getting in the drivers seat. Soon enough, the rolling purr of the engine starts up and the college library starts disappearing in the rear view mirror.
The two of you sit in companionable silence, Namjoon’s hand resting comfortably on your thigh.
“I didn’t know you were so possessive, Princess.” Namjoon breaks the silence with a seemingly casual remark, though it is easy to detect the self-satisfied undercurrent in his voice.
“Oh, so you’re playing innocent? Cute.” He smirks, beginning to smooth his hand along your thigh. You try not to squirm under his attention. “That girl who was watching me, you didn’t like her, did you? You smiled when she turned away after you kissed me. Don’t you realise I notice everything you do?”
Your cheeks burn as Namjoon deftly unravels your thoughts, embarrassed that he finds you so easy to read. You mumble something quietly under your breath, and within the blink of an eye Namjoon pulls over, takes his hand off your thigh and uses it to grip your chin, tilting your head up firmly so you are forced to meet his eye.
“What was that, Princess?” He smirks, and you know he won’t let you get away with not replying.
Your cheeks flush deeply, and Namjoon briefly trails his thumb over the inflamed skin, before catching it on your bottom lip and tugging, a cue for you to speak before he gets impatient.
“I said, wouldn’t you be possessive if you saw a guy checking me out?” You ask meekly, and Namjoon’s gaze darkens.
“I’d destroy anyone who dared to even touch you. You’re mine. Ours.” His fervent response does not shock you, but just solidifies your resolution in your mind.
You hate lying to Namjoon, and Yoongi and Hoseok as well, but you know that if you tell them Jongin asked you out, it would only end in needless bloodshed. Anyway, it’s not like he was persistent or anything, it was a one off and you don’t think it’s necessary for him to be punished so harshly.
By the time you make it back home, Namjoon’s sucked three fresh bruises into your neck to join the already-present necklace of love-bites. Having three deeply possessive boyfriends simply means having three times the hickeys a normal person might receive — not that you are complaining. You like to feel like you belong to them.
Before Namjoon can even type in the code to unlock the door, Hoseok has swung it open and gathers you into his arms eagerly, tugging you backwards into the house.
“Princess!” He exclaims in between the kisses he peppers over your face, your hair, anything that he can reach. Behind you, Namjoon chuckles quietly. “Oh, you were gone so long! I missed you.”
“I missed you too, Hobi.” You giggle, and his eyes widen with joy.
“I wish you didn’t have to go at all. Do you really have to get a degree?”
“She should get an education.” Namjoon asserts, and you nod at Hoseok, agreeing with your other boyfriend. Hoseok grumbles, before leading you towards the couch, tugging you on top of his lap as he sits down.
“It’s not like you’re gonna need to get a job or anything. We’ll support you, won’t we, Namjoon?” Hoseok raises his voice so Namjoon, who’s gone to the kitchen to arrange a small meal for you, can hear. Yoongi, the resident cook, won’t be back for a while, but Hoseok and Namjoon would rather let themselves starve than let you go hungry, which could be possibility since Namjoon really is an atrocious cook.
“Of course she won’t get a job.” Says Namjoon as he brushes into the room with a bowl of microwaved popcorn for you. Hoseok’s already started the film, some kind of horror flick, and he settles you comfortably in between himself and Namjoon, who’s just sat down. They love to make you watch horror films because you always get scared and hold onto them tightly, it makes them laugh so loud it almost drowns out the monstrous noises coming from the TV.
“Is it over yet?” You mumble, voice muffled in Namjoon’s sweater. You feel his chest rumble as he laughs, Hoseok’s high-pitched giggle joining even as he runs a comforting hand down your back.
“We’re only forty minutes in, Princess.”
“How much is there left?”
“About an hour.”
You release a whine which induces their laughter again, until they are interrupted by the opening and shutting of the front door.
“You guys are watching Saw again?” You hear Yoongi’s dry voice ask and you point your arms in the direction from which you think it came from, fingers splayed, needy. He immediately joins you on the couch and wraps you in his arms, displacing Hoseok who lets out a dismayed noise.
Yoongi hates horror films just as much as you do, no matter how tough he is in real life. You survive through the next hour with your face pressed into Yoongi’s chest and his hand gently stroking your hair. After the ordeal concludes, you join Yoongi in the kitchen to make dinner, sat on a stool by the kitchen island and watching, since Yoongi doesn’t want you close to any of the hot surfaces or cooking knives in case you get hurt.
Namjoon sits and does his paperwork on the dining table, and you occasionally drift over to sit on his lap and mouth along his collarbones, trying to help with the stress that his job brings. Every so often, you go and check on Hoseok, who is practising in the studio. Seeing him so focused and sweaty from the exercise causes something to surface within you, and when you stumble back to the kitchen with mussed hair and swollen lips, Namjoon takes one glance at you and drops his pen.
“That’s not fair.” He breathes.
“Hoseok can’t keep you all to himself like that. Especially when you look like that.”
“Like what?” You ask with faux innocence, and he rises from the table and begins to stalk towards you slowly, a predator cornering its prey.
“Like you’ve just been ruined. Like you’ve just had a cock in you and can barely stand. Like you’re still hungry for more.”
“And what if I am?” You whisper as he comes closer, so close your back hits the wall and his chest touches yours.
At your question, Namjoon groans and he wastes no time before crashing his lips against yours, all tongue and teeth and fire. His hand reaches down beneath your skirt and wrenches your panties aside, shoving his fingers inside you to play with Hoseok’s cum, still warm inside you.
“Fuck,” he bites out against your lip, “Already had one cock in you and yet you’re still so fucking tight.”
You moan breathlessly as he plunges two fingers into you, already scissoring them and twisting them mercilessly in a way that has your legs weakening so much that he has to support your weight.
“You need my cock, don’t you Princess? You need me to fuck you loose and sloppy, huh? I can’t believe you want two cocks within the space of a minute, you little fucking slut.”
His words cause the heat building in your gut to ratchet upwards, already on edge and over-sensitive thanks to the two orgasms Hoseok strung out of you. You’re almost delirious, panting and whining and begging as Namjoon fingerfucks you.
“Well, Princess? Do you want my cock or not?” He growls impatiently, and you moan loud enough that Hoseok can probably hear you in his studio, even over the music.
“Yes, I want- I need your cock. ‘m want you to fuck me sloppy, please, c’mon-” You whined against Namjoon, your head slumping down onto his shoulder, and he curses harshly to himself.
Somehow, he removes your skirt and panties — though he is still fully clothed with the exception of his open fly — and thrusts into you in one long, smooth motion. There is something so degrading about being basically naked while Namjoon is completely covered, but it just turns you on even more.
You’re so sensitive, having just been taken Hoseok up against the mirrors in the studio, his dancer’s hips fucking into you unrelentingly, and it doesn’t take much to bring you to the edge. Namjoon pounds into you, so hard that your head knocks back against the wall, and you know you’ll have bruises on your back where you’re being pressed against the wall too hard.
The pain only makes everything more overwhelming, makes it better, and you come on his cock with a wailing scream. His thrusts do not falter, and he only pushes you further up the wall, lifting your legs to wrap around his waist and taking you in his arms so that he is bouncing your body up and down on his cock like a fucktoy.
“Yes, Princess. You take it so well, you were made for my cock, weren’t you? Made to be used like my own little fuckdoll. My precious slut.” The new angle is hitting that perfect spot within you, the spot that makes your vision swim, and you are barely coherent, babbling nonsense and encouragement as he just keeps going.
You lose count of the amount of times you come before he eventually slows down, spilling into you and then pumping it through you slowly, mixing in with Hoseok’s from earlier. As he pulls out, his seed trickles down your thigh and dries there. You go to wipe it off with your discarded skirt — it would ruin the skirt, but they would always just buy you a new one — but Namjoon stops you with a tight grip on your wrist.
“Leave it there.” He commands, and you nod, wide-eyed. “You look so pretty with my seed marking you. You look like you’re mine.”
“She’s mine too, you know.” A low voice utters, and you startle when you remember that Yoongi was still in the kitchen, and could have been watching the whole time. Must have been, considering the impressive erection he’s stroking with one hand, eyes hooded as they watch you. Despite yourself, you lick your lips, and Yoongi coos.
“Baby still wants more, huh? Even after two cocks inside her?” You nod, just like you know he wants you to, and he gives you a satisfied smile. Yoongi takes his time, moving towards you in slow, measured steps. Behind you, Namjoon forces you to your knees, holding your hands behind your back.
“Does the little slut want her dinner now?” You try to nod, and Namjoon tightens a hand into your hair, making you whimper.
“Take her shirt off.” Yoongi says and Namjoon rips it off your body without a warning. You gasp as your skin is exposed to the cold air, a gasp which tapers into a whine and Yoongi reaches down and pinches one of your nipples hard.
“So sensitive.” He chuckles, before cupping your jaw. He moves his shoe forwards so it presses in between your legs, right up against your too-sensitive core. You mewl and wriggle away from it, but Namjoon holds you firm.
“Listen, baby.” Yoongi starts, his hand at your eye level stroking up and down his cock leisurely, “I’m going to fuck your mouth, and while I do that, you’re going to get yourself off on my shoe.” You start to whimper, shaking your head but Yoongi hushes you. “That wasn’t a question. If you don’t come before I do, you’ll be punished.”
You shiver, but still try to protest meekly.
“Yoongi, it’s too much, please, I can’t-” But Namjoon forces your jaw open and Yoongi shoves himself into your mouth before you can finish.
You moan around his cock, the feeling of being full always mindlessly satisfying you and, after a moments hesitation, you start grinding against his shoe. The sensitivity makes it almost painful, and you sob around his cock, eyes already leaking tears as Yoongi thrusts deep into you over and over again, at one point holding your nose against his hip until you thought you were about to pass out, before pulling out and slamming back in.
“Fuck, look at you.” Yoongi grunts, fucking your face like there’s no tomorrow. “Such a fucking slut. Look Namjoon, she’s panting on my cock, getting the come of all the men she’s fucked all over my shoe. I hope you know you’re going to be licking it clean, Princess.”
At his last statement, all the pain and arousal and humiliation forges itself into one white-hot surge of pleasure and the orgasm rips through you almost violently. Your throat tightens against Yoongi’s cock and a few seconds later he’s yanking himself out roughly and coming all over your face and chest.
“So beautiful.” He murmurs as you slump backwards against Namjoon’s thighs. “Covered in our essence. You’re ours, and you always will be.”
Since Yoongi practically abandoned dinner and let it burn, the three of you order take out, and they take turns feeding you as you perch — still entirely naked and covered in their dried come — on Hoseok’s lap. After dinner, the four of you have a warm bath where Hoseok uses his magic fingers to massage all the aches and groans out of your body, all the while praising you for how well you took them, how beautiful you are, how proud you should be. It ends up with him taking you slowly against the side of the bath, water rushing around you while you stretch yourself enough to take Yoongi as well, leaning over to take Namjoon in your mouth.
By the time you stumble into bed, you are well and truly exhausted, and you fall asleep right away, wrapped in Hoseok and Namjoon’s arms, with Yoongi sprawled on top of you, feeling safer than you’ve ever felt in your life.
Next week, you are getting a coffee during a break between classes — normally your boyfriends would come and visit you in this time but Yoongi was being held up at work, as was Namjoon, and Hoseok was trying to nail down a new routine — when Jongin approaches you again.
He looks nervous, and you surprise a sigh.
“Look, Jongin, I’m flattered, but-”
“I know you’re dating those men, but honestly, Y/n, they are not who you think they are.”
“Excuse me?” You ask incredulously, anger flaring within you at the criticism of your boyfriends.
“Listen, I’ve looked into their backgrounds a little and they’re dangerous, Y/n, you don’t want to associate with them.”
“I think I can decide what I want for myself, thanks.” You reply frostily. “I know you have a crush on me, and I was willing to let that slide, but this really is pathetic. Maybe you should think for a second; if they’re so dangerous, then what do you think is going to happen when you try to take what’s theirs?”
His eyes widen in fear, and for a second you feel smug that you managed to cow him into such a level of fear, and then you feel an arm wrap securely around your shoulders.
“I couldn’t have said it better myself, Princess.” Namjoon says, giving a now-trembling Jongin a death glare.
“Telling lies to our girlfriend is certainly a dangerous thing to do.” Hoseok purrs, flanking Namjoon’s shoulder.
“And telling her you have feelings for her is even worse.” Yoongi smirks, moving in between you and Jongin.
“Honestly, if I were you, I would start running.”
Jongin turns tail and flees out of the coffee shop, followed by many curious glances. Namjoon, Hoseok and Yoongi exchange a smug smile before they start leading you to the car — a modest Rolls Royce today.
“I- I thought you couldn’t come today?” You ask, confused, and Namjoon huffs a laugh.
“We wanted to surprise you.”
“Of course, we should have realised we’d have to scare off one of your admirers.” Hoseok laughs, though his eyes are tight.
“I didn’t realise he would go that far. I just felt kind of bad for him, but if you hadn’t arrived today I would definitely have told you the second I got home.”
“You should always tell us everything, Princess.” Yoongi growls, before pushing you into the back of the car.
Hoseok slips into the drivers seat whilst Namjoon and Yoongi flank your sides in the back seats.
“From now on, you tell us everything, ok? No secrets.” Namjoon says sternly, and you nod.
“What about Jongin? Are you going to catch him?”
“Don’t think about that filth.” Hoseok instructs from the front, “We’ll take care of him. You don’t have to worry about any of it. We’ll call the college and say you’re sick for the rest of the week so you can have time to recover.”
“Ok.” You reply quietly, burrowing into the car leather.
“You really don’t have to worry, Princess.” Yoongi reassures you, taking your quiet behaviour for fear.
“We won’t let anyone take you from us. Ever. You’re ours. We’ll kill anyone who tries to lay a single finger on you, sweetheart. And if anyone tries to take you away? I’ll make sure they suffer so much they’ll be begging for death. That’s how much I love you, baby. We love you, so much.”
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◾bts as yanderes
In his fantasy, he was the prince and you were the princess. The king and the queen. And in his fantasy, it would always end in a happily ever after, always. He spoiled you to make sure you were always comfortable with the way you were living and that there was no inconvenience to be put on you, by anyway. Which is why you needed him.
To take care of everything for, to care for you, to watch over you, and do everything for you. It was his job, in his mind, to always make sure you never lifted a finger, even once in your relationship with him. Jin was always by your side and if he wasn’t doing something for you, he was guiding it through with you, keeping you in his warm hold and touch for as long as possible. He saw it as his own way of showing his love and affection towards you
“Ah! Y/n, what did I say? I can make dinner tonight, don’t worry about it. Just sit down and wait until it’s ready, I promise it will be the best meal of your life!”
“I told you I could pick you up from work, why did you take the bus? These areas have a lot of bad people out here, especially in that area, you could’ve gotten hurt or worse!”
Now Jin might be the best boyfriend that loved and cared for you, but it was always a different him when he noticed someone showing you affection. He was your boyfriend so he should be the only one showing this type of feelings. That stranger that smiled your way on the way to you guys’ favorite restaurant wasn’t supposed to be looking at you like that, only him.
At times like this, Jin got very possessive and over-protective. If a man were to walk up to the both of you, he was immediately shunned by Jin or ignored by Jin, who would tug you in a different direction. He looked down on any man that seemed to hold any interest towards you and his reasoning for it whenever he was questioned was because he was the only one allowed to look at you like that. Your beauty was astonishing, really it was, which is why he thought it should only be reserved for those worthy of seeing it. Which was him, and only him.
“Did you see the way he was looking at you? It’s absolutely disgusting that he can’t take a hint.”
“I told you it was a bad idea to go out today, imperfect men, unlike me, don’t know how to control themselves around you. I might just need to teach them a lesson, really.”
◾ min yoongi
Yoongi was a sweetie, really. Especially only for you. He had met you just by chance, and he has thanked whoever was watching above non-stop since that day. He was usually an emotionless man, but you brought him out of his hiding and made him see a brighter light. You brought out all of the smiles, laughs, and affection from him and he made sure only to show you that side of him.
You were special to him, which is why he reserved those smiles for you and only for your eyes. He was rather insecure about everything about himself, but he was quick to sweep those thoughts away whenever you praised him or hugged him tightly. He was reminded that he had someone to lean on and he wasn’t alone. It was a big deal to meet such an angel like you because he has never experienced anything like this.
New emotions were introduced to Yoongi and he was glad you were the one to deliver them to him.
“Gah, you are so cute Y/n! What would I do without you?”
“Thank you so much for all you have done for me, the only way I can repay you is by showing you my love, and I can only hope that is enough for someone as great as you.”
You were so precious to Yoongi, to him you were the angel shining down onto him. You were pure and innocent, which is why he had to protect you from the greedy and evil things of the outside world. Whenever he could, he would stall you from leaving his side in the comfortable bed you two shared. Whining, begging, and shameless yells of your attention usually came with this. But that was only the coating of it all.
When you two did go out, another side of Yoongi was introduced to you. You were his to have and he wasn’t willing to share with anyone. He had to protect, which he did the best he could by throwing glares to those he deemed in need of one, those are the ones that usually glance at you for too long or look at you with a look in their eyes that Yoongi hated.
Everyone was too evil and cynical to even lay eyes on you, which is why he had to protect you from those evil beings. That by either teaching them a lesson or keeping you cooped up inside with him, either way was fine. He was never hesitant to throw the first punch or insult, anyone who wanted to take away your innocence would not have a pinch of mercy from him.
“I suggest you take your eyes off of her. If you don’t, I will have to force you to. Yeah, that’s right! Don’t even think about taking a second glance, you worthless piece of shit!”
“Y/n, stay with me, please. Those classes are worthless anyway, you can just learn from home and stay with me through the whole day.”
Namjoon was a rather closed off man, famous around campus for always being found with a book in his hand, quiet and reserved would be the only way to describe him. So it was a big shock to him when you had sought out his help for something. He was immediately drawn to you. Maybe it was because of the curious nature that got him wanting more from you, but soon it leads to you being his.
You were a curious and adventurous person which he loved the most about you. Always willing to learn and he was always more than willing to teach you. You were his own to have and he basked in the feeling of relying on him, he loved it to death. You were completely his to have and you made it obvious to him whenever you asked him a question he was sure to have the answer to. And if he didn’t, he would mentally scold himself for being so incompetent to you.
He was your own personal knowledge bank and he wished you would keep thinking of him as that, someone you could rely on and trust. It became his goal to become the only one in your life to provide such knowledge, and honestly so much more, and he would be willing to take care of anyone that stood in his way.
“Close, but it’s more like this, baby. No! I don’t mind teaching you, in fact always come to me when you have a question, okay?”
“See Y/n you learn something new every time we talk. So you can trust me from now on to give you everything you want.”
It irked Namjoon to no end when you began relying on others. Asking questions to your fellow ‘freinds’ that he was more than willing to answer, and even trusting those around you. He loved to think he was the only one in your life that could give you what you wanted, but he was slapped back to reality when he picked you up from work one day. He had promised you the other day he would always pick you up from your workplace because walking home would be out of the question considering how dangerous it would be.
So he watched with a clenched jaw as you laughed with one of your co-workers about a joke they had made. He slammed his car door shut, leaning against the now closed door waiting for you to come closer so he could finally take you home. It didn’t go as planned as you introduced him to your smiling co-worker, who he merely nodded to. It got worse when you acknowledge how your ‘friend’ had Bachelor’s Degree from graduating college. Namjoon gritted his teeth at the compliment, feeling a wave of emotions wash over him as you praised your friend of his intelligence. It was until he opened his mouth to bite at your co-worker that you stopped and stepped into the car wordlessly.
“That’s rather impressive, but I think me and Y/n better head home.”
“No actually, Y/n won’t be going to work tomorrow considering how sore she will be from tonight. Since you’re so smart, I’m going to assume you know what I am talking about, right? Good. Then we will be on our way, good night.”
He was already a happy man before meeting you, but when he did he never felt such a feeling of bliss. You were the epitome of perfection in his eyes. You were always radiating with a smile and brought along your melodic laughter with you wherever you went. He felt in heaven whenever you two were with each other, and he loved to keep it that way. Your smile was what kept going and encouraged him to work harder to make your grin grow wider.
He was always cracking jokes for you, and always content when you laughed at his humor. He didn’t care when people stared at the two of you with looks of suspicion at the scene you two would cause in public. If he was being honest, Hoseok was a rather insecure man so seeing you warm up to him made him feel assured and safe. He could be himself around you and it made him more determined every day to be the better version of his yesterday because he knew he had to make you smile, at least once and he would be at ease.
Your happiness was always his top priority and he was always there for you when you were sad, turning your frown upside down immediately. He pushed whatever he was doing aside to focus on you not caring about the consequences because, at those moments, you were important than anything else in his life.
“Y/n, smile for me! *makes a funny face, and laughs along with you, knowing he did something good for you*”
“Don’t forget to call or text me when you feel down, I’ll rush over to you in an instant to make you feel better, okay?”
The one thing that could knock that smile off of Hoseok’s face would be two things. Seeing you sad and seeing the thing or person that made you sad. from there on it would no longer be sadness engulfing him, rather anger and rage. Anyone would make you frown was no one important in his book. You were his top priority all the time, and if someone were to make you feel like you weren’t there was obviously a problem that Hoseok had to take care of.
Hoseok was rarely caught without a smile, and when he was it was the result of someone messing with you or making you sad. He would have no patience at all for a person like that, which is why his sudden cheerful attitude was traded for a new, sly, and a rather ruthless one. No one would be left to breathe if they were to make you sad, no one has the right for you to be sad.
“Who did this to you?! Tell me and I can make your worries go away.”
“You treated her like shit, I’m here to return the favor. You made her shed tears, which should never happen to someone like her! She is too good for people in this world, I swear. You won’t be able to breathe when I’m done with you, worthless scum.”
Jimin was the embodiment of kindness, always stopping to give someone a helping hand. He went out of his way for everyone, putting their desires before his, but when he met you he became the opposite. He realized that the world was not meant to have a taste of kindness, only you.
He learned from you that not everyone deserves the best treatment. Which is why he stopped handing out smiles to everyone, he stopped helping the same old lady cross the street, and why he stopped giving others his attention. To him, you needed to be treated carefully or you might just break, that’s why his mass amounts of attention were always on you. The outside world was simply not ready for someone as pure and radiant as you, that’s why you needed him. He kept you safe and he loved the feeling of protecting you.
“Wait! Y/n, let me do that for you. I don’t want you to get hurt because of something like this.”
“No baby, I promise this is the last time I do this for you, next time I swear I’ll let you do it alone not.”
He wouldn’t stand for it. You were out for the day and, of course, Jimin was staying by your side the whole time. You decided to stop by a store and when you walked in, you two were immediately greeted by an eager employee. Jimin squinted his eyes when he saw the worker lead you in all sorts of directions, making him almost lose sight of you with how fast you two were moving along.
It was annoying for him to watch another person lead you, whether it be physically or mentally, and influence your opinion on things. He thought he should be the only one to influence your decisions and for you to lean on him only, so he found the man smiling at you right now really had no worth of being in front of you.
It also enraged him whenever he saw the man flash you a smile. You were far too perfect for the likes of a guy like the one in front of him. The only one that could really ever understand you was him, and it will always be him. And if anyone wanted to test him on that, they were more than invited because he was not going to lose you to someone to easily.
“I don’t think we need any more help, we were just about to leave isn’t that right, Jagiya?”
“I would really appreciate if you would not staring at her like that or you are really going to regret ever approaching us.”
If someone were to describe Taehyung, it would be passionate. He always stayed to what was right and he fought for it, and everything about you was right. He was always trailing after you, worshipping the ground you walked on and praised you like you were a goddess. He never let you feel an ounce of uncomfortableness when he was with you because he would immediately take care of it.
He wouldn’t even need to think for a second when it came to you. You were always his choice and you would always be, nothing could stop that. You were everything right for him and he accepted his fate as yours rather quickly. He always supported you and what you did and was always by your side to walk with you down the path of life. He always chose the option he thought you would choose, his own mind and opinions gone because you were all he thought about the second he met you.
Taehyung always thought highly of you, you were someone he always thought about and how you were doing things all for the better end of the story. You were everything right in the world and everyone and thing were simply in the wrong. People didn’t see it yet, but you were the only right person and it seemed Taehung was more than willing to follow in your footsteps.
“If Y/n were here, what would she say?”
“Y/n makes the best point in this argument, you should just give up.”
Some people were really clueless, really stupid. Taehyung was talking about you to one of his close friends, that he hasn’t cut out from his life, and has also mentioned how you were always right about things. The ones who were closest to him holding back the eye-rolls and simply nodded along to what he said, gaining a smile from Taehyung. That is until one decided to speak out against Taehyung, which was, logically, speaking against you considering how Taehyung was merely delivering your words.
He stopped his chatter and so did his friends as they stared at the disagreer with wide eyes. Taehyung let out an ‘excuse me’ in question making the man in front of him merely shrug. They explained how you weren’t all that great, and how some of the points Taehyung made about you were wrong and Taehyung couldn’t have shaken his head faster. He thought that this person in front of him was merely too uneducated to have just insulted you in front of him.
Taehyung was definitely keen on how people perceived you. If it was bad, then Taehyung would be quick to change their minds. If it was good, he would continue to rant to them about how perfect you were. It was a win situation for Taehyung because he got to talk about you one way or another. And right now this person was trying to think of you as something you weren’t and Taehyung was quick to correct him, raising his voice as he continued on sentence after sentence.
“You don’t understand Y/n, none of you would!”
“Y/n is the only one here that matters, and if you can’t see that then you obviously don’t have your priorities straight. Now if you don’t mind I’m going to leave you losers for my perfect girlfriend!”
Jungkook was innocent. He was young and didn’t know much and when he met you, he wanted to follow in all the footsteps you took. He was always eager to please you with his work, whether it be art or music or just something he created on a whim, which is why he would always ask for your opinion on his works and things he did. It didn’t matter if even he himself didn’t like it, as long as you were happy with his work he could smile to himself at night knowing he pleased you during the day.
He was always pleased when he saw your proud smile or heard one of your compliments directed to him when he finished a piece of work. He focused solely on you and what you thought, and if you weren’t there to answer his many questions he could only hope he chose the right decision in making his choice trying to think as you would.
He was quick to beat himself up if you didn't seem as pleased with his work as you usually were. Sometimes in the quiet of his room, he would rip apart that very piece he worked on if he felt you didn’t approve or like it. He was sensitive to you and what your thoughts mattered to him more than you could know.
“Do you like it Y/n? Really?! Thank you, that means a lot!”
“What if she hates this? She wasn’t here to answer my questions so I can only hope I guessed correctly...I have to be right or else I will disappoint her.”
With Jungkook always aiming to please, it made him a bit angry when he saw our attention off of his work and directed to another’s. It made him feel like he had to prove something to his ‘competitor’ at how he was better at something than they were. To him, you paying attention to another person’s work rather than his, it made him think that his best wasn’t good enough and the only way to win you back was to improve and get better.
If his efforts at getting better didn’t bring your attention back to him, then he had no other choice but to get rid of the ‘competitor’. He tried his best to stray away from that ending, but he just couldn’t help himself when you smiled at the other person showing your sacred smile to them. It made him feel left out and he couldn’t have that. Not when he was being left out of the person he cared about the most. If you gave him your best, showing him your side and personality, it would only be fair for him to give his best to you, completely giving himself to you.
“I have to get better if Y/n will take me back, she can’t have that other man in her life. There should be only me!”
“I really didn’t want to do this...but you got in between me and Y/n! I can’t allow that, it’s only me and her, you shouldn’t even be near her!”
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Lineage (M) | 3
Pairing: Duke Yoongi x Princess Reader; Duke Namjoon x Princess Reader (one-sided)
Word Count: 8.7K
Summary: When an engagement locks you, the 8th and forgotten princess, to the duke infamous for his cruelty, you find yourself counting the days until your inevitable death. It’s terrifying to think of your end, but when you arrive at his territory, you realize there’s a more morbid reason behind your marriage, and that the duke is much worse than the rumors have painted him out to be.
Warnings: HEAVY yandere themes, mentions of gore and death, future major character(s) death, near-death experiences, obsessive behaviors, manipulation, SMUT (cunnilingus; a whole 1.5k of pure smut: blindfolded, unprotected sex; exhibitionism; a bit of breeding), 18+, explicit language, self-loathing
A/N: Finally! The banquet scene (and a wonderful helping of Namjoon) is here! I hope you guys stick with Lineage and me to the very end of our journey <3 This chapter took a bit of time to write (can’t believe it’s 3k more words than the last part). Please, if you liked this part, comment or leave a detailed review (reading them makes me super happy and motivated)! Thank you for 2.6k+ followers :)
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 |
He stood up and turned around to look at you. Though he now had an aura, both elegant and cold, that was similar to the Duke’s, you could recognize that face anywhere. His expression was schooled into a composed and almost frigid look, a look that sent shivers down your spine. However, as soon as you felt goosebumps rising on your skin, his expression turned warm. It almost felt like you were imagining the coldness you had felt from him before. He smiled at you in the same manner that he had done when he had been posing as a messenger, his dimples flashing in his cheeks, though you did not notice that his eyes continued to remain cold.
“Your Highness,’’ he paused in his speaking,’’ Well, I suppose it’d be more proper to refer to you as a Duchess now. It’s been a while, has it not?’’
“It has,’’ your words stiffened as your mind spun in confusion,’’ been a while. I apologize for impolitely referring to you by your first name. If you are a close acquaintance with my husband, then you must be…’’
Your voice trailed off as you looked at him in an unsure manner. Namjoon chuckled at your attempt to mask your apparent uncertainty. The icy coldness in his eyes had melted somewhat.
“I’m of the House of Kim. We are on the same level when it comes to status, so you don’t have to act so…stiff around me, and I will take the opportunity to do the same as well. Last time I met you, you were much more carefree than the you of now, Duchess Min.’’
“I suppose you are correct with that, Duke Kim. It’s rather shameful to think of the way I greeted you back then, but that shame seems to dissipate when I recall the way you had taken on the identity of a servant, Duke Kim.’’ You dropped the stiff façade you had put on yourself, and your tone was light instead of accusatory. Your shoulders, which had been squared in an uncomfortably rigid posture, relaxed a little bit, and you couldn’t help the genuine smile that bloomed across your lips. “Now, what event brings you to a meeting with me? I believe you would rather meet with the Duke instead.’’
Namjoon paused, as if he was thinking of an answer. Whatever answer rang through his head must’ve been amusing, with the way his noble features had tilted up in a slightly playful expression.
“The Duke is not someone who throws a birthday banquet, or any banquet really. The typical complaint of the people on the territory is that there is little festivity outside of the annual week that celebrates the Kingdom’s establishment. A bit dreary, isn’t it, though I hope you take no offense at my comment.’’ Namjoon’s tone was almost teasing, and you curved your lips up lightly to show that you didn’t. “I owe the Duke a favor, and since the Duke rarely uses a favor, I believe doing something for you would equate the same as paying back the favor. And besides, helping you prepare for the birthday banquet would be the same as helping Yoongi.’’
You paused as you thought over your response. True, it would be very helpful to have a more experienced noble assist you in preparing for your first banquet—it was even more pressuring to hear that the Duke of Min rarely held a banquet, too, as the expectation for the first banquet was always much higher than the ones after and would also prove your abilities as the Duchess. But you worried about the rumors that would emerge if you were too close with Duke Kim. After all, the society you lived in was flawed in this sense of thinking.
“If you’re worried about any rumors emerging, don’t worry. You are not only the princess of this kingdom but a married woman, and I am but your husband’s friend. Any rumors that come will be easily taken out by the combined powers of both your husband’s House and the royal family.’’
He was correct with that. You made a decision right then and gingerly extended a hand out, your lips carefully curving into the poised smile that you had spent days practicing with your tutor.
“Well then, I will look forward to your assistance, Duke Kim.’’
Namjoon’s charming smile sobered into a more reserved and serious expression as he clasped your delicate hand in his own. You could feel the calluses of his hand, which was different from what you had expected a nobleman’s hands to be like. His touch was cold, too, the kind of cold that seemed less human and more marble. You faintly remembered that Yoongi’s hands were like that too, and your cheeks lightly flushed at the rather intimate memory that unfolded at that thought before you could force yourself back to earth.
Namjoon leaned down slightly as he raised your hand up, his lips brushing against your knuckles. Though this was a common gesture exchanged between those of the nobility, you couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed. You wanted to pull your hand away, a strange paranoia in your throat that someone else would witness this and view polite courtesy with slanderous eyes, but you forced yourself to keep your hand steady.
You, still caught up in your own thoughts, did not witness the way Namjoon’s lips twisted into a teasing smirk as his eyes flitted to the window and made eye contact with the beady eyes of the crow perched outside of the window. The bird, having been caught, fluttered its feathers in agitation and let out a strangled caw. Then, it stretched out its inky wings, each hollow bone crackling slightly, and flapped away.
Namjoon straightened his back, gently letting go of your hand. You hurriedly allowed your hand to fall back at your side.
“How amusing…,’’ he murmured faintly, his voice barely above a whisper. You blinked rapidly; you were unable to catch the words he had spoken.
“I apologize, but what did you say? I couldn’t hear what you had said just now,’’ you questioned.
Namjoon was about to open his mouth to brush off his comment when the door of the receiving room slammed open with such force that Namjoon would’ve been surprised if there wasn’t a crack in the frame. You spun around to look at who was there, and your mouth dropped slightly open when you saw the Duke standing there.
“Yoongi, what are you—,’’ you tried to speak, but your words were cut off as the Duke marched up to you and grabbed your elbow, pulling you behind him protectively. You tried to take a look at Duke Kim, but the Duke only moved to shield your view.
“If you have any words to say to my wife, you can also speak them in front of me. If you were to come by, it would’ve been more proper to inform me before your arrival,’’ the Duke’s words were like ice. You could feel yourself shiver. You, who had become accustomed to the softer and more gentle tone the Duke had taken with you, had never heard the Duke speak like that before, with such bite and barely restrained anger.
Perhaps the Duke could sense the way you had tensed. The imposing aura around him softened a bit, but he still remained firmly in between Duke Kim and you.
Namjoon smiled good-naturedly, raising his hands to show that he didn’t mean any harm. He had never seen Yoongi so hostile before, not even when he had been on the front of the battlefield soaked in blood. Even when he had the king of an opposing kingdom on his knees, begging and wailing in front of him, Yoongi hadn’t even flinched before he had executed the miserable coward. But now, Yoongi could barely contain the aggression in his eyes as he stared down his closest friend.
Namjoon couldn’t help the desire to just mess around with his friend. After all, it was rare to see Yoongi out of control; Namjoon’s nature, having lived for quite some time, leaned towards anything he found interesting and easy to control. He had never viewed Yoongi as easy to control, not with the power that seemed to overbearingly seep from every pore of the man, but this situation… Namjoon could barely conceal the sheer expression of glee at the thought of what he was about to do. His eyes, which he usually concealed as a dark brown, flickered with a hint of crimson, a shade that strikingly matched Yoongi’s typical eye color.
He stepped closer to the Duke, settling a hand on Yoongi’s shoulder and leaning close to Yoongi’s ear. His voice was barely above a whisper, but Yoongi’s acute senses easily picked it up. You, however, could only look on in confusion.
“Your wife…I can see why you’re so infatuated with her. I hope I can learn more about her.”
If it weren’t for the years of friendship between the two, Yoongi would have not had any qualms with killing Namjoon on the spot. Yoongi’s pupils dilated, the color of his eyes bleeding brightly, and his hands curled into fists, his blunt nails leaving bloody crescent marks imprinted in his flesh. Namjoon nodded politely to you as he walked past the Duke, his playful eyes meeting your confused eyes. The soft click of the door shutting ascertained his departure.
“My Lord,’’ your voice was soft as you carefully crept towards the Duke. There was no response. You tentatively called out: “Yoongi?’’
Your call of his name seemed to snap him out of his bloodthirst as he quickly turned around and grabbed onto your wrist, pulling you towards him until your body was firmly pressed against his. You gasped as he cradled the back of your head, his hands twisting in your locks of hair, and kissed you. It felt like he was devouring you; in that moment, each breath you had was also his. His lips moved almost brutally against yours, and you felt a whine emerge from your throat as he harshly nipped your soft bottom lip with his teeth. Your lips barely had time to part slightly before his tongue was in your mouth, exploring each crevice. You could only hold onto him, fists curled weakly in his white dress shirt and your mind dizzy from a combined mix of lack of oxygen and heated frenzy.
His hands were about to push down the sleeves of your dress and expose your heated skin to the cold air when a sharp knock on the door interrupted him. He seemed to pay no heed to it, his lips still bruising against yours, but you managed to finally pull a bit away from him. The string of saliva that showed the previous heated connection of your mouths caused you to frantically turn your head away in shame to break it. You sucked in a large swallow of cold air. Your knees were soft, your bones barely unable to hold you up; you were about to tumble down when he caught you and swept you up in his arms. Despite the murderous aura that was pouring out of him, he gently let you down onto the sofa in the room, and you watched with hazy eyes as he stormed out of the room.
That night, as you nuzzled your face into the silk pillows of the bed and slept soundly, the servant who was unfortunate enough to have been sent to interrupt the Duke’s time with his rumored beloved wife would meet his end. After that, no one would ever dare to come near any rooms with closed doors in fear that they would meet their hopeless demise at the end of the Duke’s famous blade.
After weeks of you busily preparing for the celebration alongside numerous lessons, the day of the long-awaited birthday banquet finally arrived. Each important noble was to show up, less they be ridiculed by the rest of their peerage, including those from your previous family. Though you had initially did not want to invite them, your logic won over your heart, and the king and the crown princess were to come to the ball too. Ah, you could feel a headache coming on at the very thought.
Little did you know, you would come to regret this choice later that evening.
But now, in this very moment, you were too busy ensuring that everything was perfect. The hall where the banquet would be held hadn’t been used in what looked to be years, a surprise considering how well-maintained most of the places you frequented in the manor were, and you had the servant staff wipe down every single corner of the hall until it gleamed. Marble and silver, now shining gorgeously in the bright chandelier light, were decorated with luxurious drapes made out of rich crimson cloth and gorgeous arrangements of blooming white and red flowers.
By the time the evening had arrived, the hall was already filled with much of the nobility and a few commoners who were wealthy. The Duke was to escort you in, and you had to admit that he looked even more handsome dressed up. His hair was carefully slicked back, showing off his stern marble-carved features. He extended his hand out for you to take, and you lightly placed your hand into his grasp. He pulled you a bit closer to him, his movement soft so you wouldn’t trip, and you heard his voice, low and a bit rougher than usual, by your ear.
“You look…,’’ he swallowed before he continued speaking,’’ beautiful tonight.’’
You could only look at him, dumbfounded, as heat rushed to your cheeks and a silly euphoria settled buzzingly in your veins. His words were clumsy, a rare occurrence for the man who always remained coolly composed. You smiled widely, and he averted his gaze, though you noticed his ears were tinted a slight red. Then, the doors were opened, and the both of you stepped out into the stairs at the very front of the hall.
“The Duke and Duchess of the House of Min has entered.’’ The steward called out, his voice echoing in the hall.
A hush covered the hall as everyone’s eyes flitted to where you stood by the side of your husband. You heard a soft murmur rise up as their eyes fell on you.
You had paid careful attention to the arrangements of the hall and dressed in a manner that fit it. The seamstress that the Duke had sent you had been the most highly sought in the kingdom, perhaps even of the neighboring kingdom, and her talent resonated in the gown you were adorned in. Billowing layers of deep red, accentuated by bits of sparkling diamonds and pearls and sparkling silver embroidery, swathed your waist, and the sleeves, made out of a transparent material, delicately puffed out around your arms. The placement of the neckline of the dress carefully concealed the mark by your collarbone. With your shoulders set back in a poised posture, you looked much different from the nervous and trembling girl who had gotten married a few months ago. There was no doubt that you were anything but gorgeous, perhaps, though many didn’t dare to say it aloud, even more gorgeous than the crown princess.
The hold of the Duke on you seemed to tighten even more on you as he opened his mouth to greet the guests, his tone frigid compared to the warm smile you carefully had on. His words were short, almost dismissive in a way, and the moment they ended, the music from the orchestra resumed to brighten up the cold atmosphere.
He carefully helped you down the stairs, ensuring that your heels would delicately sink into the plush carpet instead of slip and send you into an embarrassing, sprawling tumble. You couldn’t help the way your lips grew even bigger into a smile at the gentle way he led you; truly, though he didn’t show his love often outside of the animalistic way he held you in the bedroom, he was sweet to you. By the time your feet hit the floor with a soft clack, the two of you were crowded by many nobles.
They all clamored to get the Duke’s attention, trying to take advantage of the first proper event the House of Min was hosting. The Duke coldly looked at them, and many of them darted away, leaving a select amount of nobles in front of the two of you. When one noble was done talking, he would leave, and another would dart to take his place. You were to smile and nod lightly whenever they were to mention you in a compliment in an attempt to warm the Duke up towards their offers.
After a bit of time, your feet began to ache in the heeled shoes that you had forced them in, and the sides of the shoes viciously dug into the tender flesh of your feet. You tried to shift your weight, but the pain refused to settle. You decided that you were going to fetch a servant to bring you a comfier pair of shoes and rest a bit in the ladies’ powder room.
“My husband,’’ you leaned in close to his ear, keeping your voice low. “My feet are aching. I’m going to the powder room to rest for a little while.’’
He nodded, but as you were about to slightly wobble away, he clasped your hand and, in front of the other nobles, pressed a soft kiss on the back of your hand. You could hear an audible gasp and the rising volume of chatter in the hall as people witnessed the rare sight of affection. The Duke, who many viewed through fearful eyes, was looking at you so gently. Now, it didn’t seem so impossible for the rumor of him being infatuated with you to be true.
“Come back soon, my wife. I will be waiting for you,’’ he spoke into your skin, his lips tickling you a bit. You fondly smiled at him, feeling much like a maiden, as he let go of your hand before leaving to send a servant for better shoes and continuing your way to the powder room.
You settled into the seat in the powder room with a soft exhale, closing your eyes briefly. Finally, you could relieve your poor feet from the aches and pinches of your previous heeled shoes. You heard the door open, and your eyes opened to see who it was.
It was the crown princess.
She was as beautiful as ever, with gleaming strands of hair rolled up in a curling updo and a gown that did little to hide the delicate curves of her body. She wasn’t alone, though; she was accompanied by her usual entourage of three unmarried girls from other high-ranking aristocratic families.
“Must be rather lovely to be able to express such affection with your husband,’’ the crown princess spoke. Unlike the angelic disposition that she exuded when she kept her mouth shut, her tone was venomous, and her words were like hidden blades. You recalled the gossip you had overheard when you had been living in the palace. The crown princess was obsessed with the Duke, your husband, and had wanted to marry him. This was hidden from outside of the palace, but maids liked to talk. She would often go to the manor he had near the palace, but he would refuse on seeing her every time.
In fact, though you did not know this, the King had been planning to marry her to the Duke to strengthen the ties to the House of Min, but the Duke had insisted on marrying you.
You barely could keep back the sigh of exhaustion that threatened to escape your lips. God, having your feet dwell in agony would have been much more preferable than having a conversation with such a… You refrained from continuing your thoughts, not wanting to dirty yourself by using such vulgar language.
“Your Highness, would it not be proper to greet me first before continuing onto a different topic?’’ your lips strained in the forced polite smile you had on.
One girl stepped forward, her face pinched in anger.
“You! How dare you speak to Her Highness like that!’’
“You must be from the Count Park family, correct? To speak so disrespectfully to someone of a higher rank… The etiquette teachers must be rather lenient on their lessons.’’ You could feel the start of a headache throb in your skull. “And, have you forgotten? I am also of the same status as Her Highness as her sister, and I have married into a family that does not take disrespect lightly.’’
The girl flinched before stepping back. She refused to relax the aggressive expression she had on. The crown princess’s demure smile stiffened a bit.
“Yes, my younger sister. We are related,’’ the crown princess stepped closer to you. You kept yourself steady as she halted in front of you and placed a delicate hand on your shoulder. “And as your older sister, I want to provide some helpful advice to you.’’
To the outside, she seemed like she was the perfect caring older sister. But you knew better. This was the same girl who had taken the main part in looking down on you with her mother, the queen, when you were younger at the palace. She hid the darker, more vicious parts of her under a beautiful mask.
“I am grateful for your care of me, sister. Since we are so close, and you didn’t bother using formalities in the first place, you must not mind me talking to you casually then.’’ You watched her with careful eyes, waiting for her to strike.
“Not at all. In fact, I was hoping that we would drop the formalities between the two of us. I am quite worried about the relationship the Duke has with you. You are so innocent, sister, that you are not aware of the way men work. They treat you so well in front of you that you convince yourself that they’re in love with you, but behind you, they commit vulgar acts.’’
“That is a rather unpleasant way to view the world, is it not? Besides, the Duke, my husband, is not the typical man, though you must already be quite aware of that with the way you used to cling onto him, hmm?’’
Her eyes flashed menacingly, and the smile on the crown princess’s face grew, warping an angel’s mask into the face of a demon. The fingers of the hand she had placed on your shoulder tightened its grip, her nails lightly digging into your skin.
“Oh, you are innocent. The Duke is like any other man. Do you ever wonder why the garden in the back of the manor on the territory is so well taken care of? Do you know why he chose to marry you, a forgotten princess with half of the blood from a low wench?’’ Her fingernails were drawing blood, but you couldn’t focus on the pain, not with the way your eyes couldn’t leave from her sadistic face. “You were fortunate enough to look similar to his first lover. No one knows anything about her other than her death, but she’s the reason why anyone who dares to even bruise a flower from the garden is immediately killed. She’s the reason why he even chose to marry you.”
She stood back; you could barely feel the prickling pain of the bloody fingernail marks in your skin. Your throat closed up, and the noble bravery you had feigned earlier seemed to mock you now.
“Father told me that the Duke, after seeing a picture of your face, wanted to marry you. Why? You know the Duke is not foolish enough to believe in love at first sight. The Duke has never cared for anyone in his life, yet he carries a painting of his first lover with him everywhere. Why would he marry you? You must’ve asked yourself this, too. The whole kingdom has! You should be smart enough to figure out the real reason why. You can check for yourself, but you know my words are true.’’
You couldn’t say anything as she whirled around on her heels and stepped out. You hated the pity you could feel from her entourage. Even the girl who had shouted at you earlier had a glimpse of pity in her eyes, mixed in with a mocking glee, as she left. Did they pity you for being attacked by the princess? Or did they pity you because they agreed with her?
You wanted to shrug off the words of the crown princess. She was jealous. Jealous that you, her younger less blessed sister, got the man she wanted. But some part of your gut told you that there was a ring of truth to her words. You remembered the odd looks the staff had given you when you had attempted to go to the garden.
Your own thoughts seemed to choke you. Was she right? Was she wrong? Could you fool yourself into thinking she was wrong? You could feel the agony of your heart well up and splinter into small fragments of glass.
You wanted to run away.
But you couldn’t.
Somehow, you managed to get yourself together. At one point, you realized that you were spending too much time in the powder room. It would be suspicious, wouldn’t it? You couldn’t bring yourself to return back to the Duke’s side. Besides, he was talking to the king now. It’d feel awkward to face the King after having such an unpleasant conversation with his daughter.
You leaned against the wall, watching the orchestra play and people dance on the floor, twirling layers of sparkling colored dresses and sleek muted colors of suits. Your throat felt dry, and a nausea churned in your stomach.
“Duchess Min, it’s an odd sight seeing you so solemn.’’
You looked up, your eyes widening. Namjoon was standing in front of you, dressed up in an elegant suit. He smiled at you, flashing two dimples. His eyes were warm. Your cheeks flushed slightly from embarrassment as you remembered the last time you had seen him. You had been checking the materials delivered for the banquet with Namjoon when you had stumbled over a box. You had braced yourself for the impact of the hard floor, but you ended up falling on top of something much softer than the floor. To your profound shame, you had fallen on Namjoon, who had thrown himself down onto the floor to avoid you from hitting it. You had profusely apologized once you had gotten up, but he had brushed it off. Thus, you had decided to brush off the memory as well but seeing Namjoon again made you feel extremely embarrassed.
“Nam— I mean Duke Kim. I didn’t see you earlier.”
“Well, I don’t really enjoy coming to these events, but you did spend a lot of time working on it, and I wanted to see the results of your efforts. You can rest easy knowing that your first banquet looks a lot better than the tenth banquet for many families.”
You couldn’t stop the smile that grew on your face. The sickening mixture of nausea and numbness seemed to fade away and settle itself back into the marrow of your bones. If you simply erased the incident in which you had embarrassed yourself by falling upon him, the both of you had developed a more than suitable connection over the time you spent working together. Though the two of you were often surrounded by servants and Jungkook, the quick wit of Namjoon shown through each time you spent with each other.
After all, few men could get into the good graces of your husband. You, although a bit more wary after the troubling incidents you had encountered with your old tutor, found yourself falling into the pace of friendship with Namjoon.
“Thank you, but, Duke Kim, you do know that I could not have pulled this off without your help. The Hall only looks this splendid because the quality of your products is of the finest in the kingdom.’’ Many nobility often used compliments for their own advantage, but in this case, your praise was genuine.
“Then, as a way to thank me, may I ask for this dance?’’ Namjoon charmingly smiled. You noticed that the previous music had stopped playing, allowing time for people to switch their partners. Namjoon extended a hand, bowing graciously. You let out a light laugh at the mischievous sheen in his eyes and reached out your own hand, about to clasp his in yours when…
“My wife, I need to speak with you alone.’’
Your hand hovered in the air as you turned your head to look at the voice; your eyes widened in surprise at the sight of the Duke in front of you. He looked terrifying, even more so than the time he had burst into the receiving room when you had first met Namjoon as Duke Kim. His eyes gleamed a fierce red, and his expression looked murderous, the aura around him seeming to cool the air. The music barely managed to warm the chills rising upon the skin of everyone in the hall.
You could barely hear the faint noise of strings dragging themselves out into a sweet melody. No one else seemed to either with the way everyone’s eyes fell upon the three of you.
Was he angry because he didn’t want you to ruin the reputation of the House by getting close to another man? Did he view you as, what the commoners would often refer to, as a wench? You felt hurt at the thought.
Before you could choke out a flustered and indignant response and possibly shatter the noble image of a duchess in the process, the Duke had already pulled you to him with a swift movement that left you clumsily crashing into his chest. Then, he all but dragged you out of the Hall.
Namjoon could only watch as the Duke disappeared with you, no look of amusement painted on his elegant features. Before, he might’ve grinned devilishly at the sight, but now, his chest seemed to twist and pull, an irony considering his true status.
Near Namjoon, standing next to the crown princess who kept gently smiling but had a look in her eyes like she wanted to tear off your face with her pretty nails, the King rejoiced in this new outcome. He was well aware of the nobility’s muttering of taking the king off the throne; with the rumor and proof of the fearsome Duke being infatuated with the royal 8th princess, the muttering of rebellion would die down. Though the King trembled like a coward in front of the Duke, what laid inside his heart was one of a selfish bastard.
When the Duke finally left, carrying the frigid tension with him, the whole room seemed to sigh in relief. But for the three who stood above the crowd, two were filled with envy and one was filled with greed.
You didn’t know where Yoongi was leading you. He had grasped your wrist in his own icy cold grip, and although his pace was unrelenting, he made sure that he wasn’t walking too fast in case you would slip. You didn’t know why Yoongi…the Duke had reacted that way.
If it were the you of the past who frequently indulged in sappy romantic novels in which a brooding male lead fell in love with a witty heroine, you would’ve been caught in a delusion that he was jealous. But the you of the present had lessons that left you stiff and every rule of etiquette and propriety drilled into your brain. The you of now was aware that the intimate nights in which you could fool yourself into believing the Duke loved you was nothing more than a fallacy. The you of now was aware of the truth. Though the crown princess wanted to hurt you and she was many despicable things, you, having grown up with her for part of your lonely childhood, knew that she wasn’t a liar. You fought the bitterness that threatened to envelope your heart.
You broke out of your thoughts just as the Duke had opened the door to your shared bedroom. He had suddenly halted, and you nearly clumsily crashed into his broad back.
“What are you doing, my Lord?’’ you managed to say,’’ The banquet in your honor is still ongoing. We can’t leave our guests like—.’’
You stopped speaking, your words caught in your throat, as Yoongi whirled around. You were taken aback by the look in his eyes. He looked almost feral in this moment, his eyes darkened in a tumultuous mix of emotions that only caused shivers to tremble fiercely down your spine.
“I need to…,’’ he closed his eyes, as if he could calm himself down, but when he had opened his eyes, the emotions in his eyes seemed to be even more heightened.
He suddenly pulled down the front of your gown—you had shouted in alarm, an expression of shame painted over your face as beads and pearls popped off the delicate fabric and hit the floor—and pressed a gentle kiss against the mark on your clavicle. His lips, a rosy pink, were a breathtaking contrast against the distinct red of the mark.
“Duke!’’ you had exclaimed, trying to push him away. “Although we may be husband and wife, you can not behave in such an…outlandish way, not when the banquet is still occurring!’’
His lips had curled up in a small smile, an expression so different from his regular brooding, stoic look that it would’ve left his aids in mute shock at the sight. You could feel the movement of his lips against your skin. He didn’t make any further moment, and you had believed him to be more tame. Perhaps he had regained his senses as a refined nobleman.
“It is typical here to grant a wish for one’s birthday, is it not?’’ he softly spoke, his lips ticklish against your soft flesh,’’ And I wish to have you.’’
He tilted his head back slightly to look up at you with red eyes shadowed by ink-black eyelashes. The expression in his eyes… You couldn’t put your finger on why they looked so loving but so vulnerable. He was different from the first time you had met him. He was even different from the second time you had met him at your wedding. Why did he look at you this way? Why had he chosen you?
You could only continue to desperately ask yourself this in your heart, but you knew the answer. Your old tutor knew the answer. The crown princess knew the answer. Hell, didn’t everyone know the answer? How foolish and lovesick you were, (Y/n)! But you did not mind the temporary illusion of being his only one love if he could hold you like that was true.
A loud yelp left your lips at the sudden pain in your clavicle, tears filling your eyes. He had bitten you! When you had been distracted with your thoughts, he had slyly dug his teeth into your mark.
“Don’t be distracted by anyone else when you’re with me,’’ his voice was raspy at the edges, almost unhinged in a strange way. “Don’t think of anything else but me.’’
The pain faded into a faint tingle, and you laughed breezily as you looped your arms around the back of his neck. You were the only one he was holding. You were the only one he loved right now; that was right.
“I’ll only think of you. I suppose it is tradition to grant one wish, Yoongi.”
Every restraint Yoongi had been holding back seemed to snap then as he devoured you with his lips. You were faintly reminded of the way he had kissed you in the receiving room after Namjoon had left, how he had seemed to want to imprint the mark of his lips onto yours. You were caught up in the vicious heat of his own touch as his tongue probed deeper into your mouth that you didn’t notice his hand slipping up to your evening dress. He practically ripped off your dress, his strength tearing through layers of silk and sending another shower of tiny sparkling beads to the ground, and you could only make a sound of discontent against his lips as the cold air nipped your flushed skin.
You took a step back to take in a breath, but he matched each of your steps, his lips still firmly against yours. The back of your legs knocked against the bed, and you ungracefully fell onto the bed. The breath spun out of your lungs, and you were vaguely reminded of the time the Duke had taken your purity on the same very bed. You inelegantly climbed back further onto the bed, your palms sinking into the bedding. Yoongi pulled away, and barely a moment later, you felt his hands tie a strip of silk fabric around your eyes.
“Yoongi, what are you—?’’ you sputtered slightly as your sight was suddenly taken away. Your voice was cut off in a haggard breath as you felt his hand slip down your delicate flesh to where your most vulnerable place was. You felt the tips of his fingers against your already soaked folds, and you heard a soft groan from Yoongi.
“You make me want to sin,’’ Yoongi’s voice sounded farther away as he moved down. You fumbled around a bit, trying to figure out where Yoongi had gone, before you realized that he had settled down further down your legs. Your mouth opened to speak, but a moan stretched out of your throat out as his lips closed around your throbbing clit and lightly sucked on it.
“You taste so fucking good.’’ You heard him say, and your cheeks flushed from embarrassment, before your mind went blank from pleasure. He licked your clit in short flicks that left your toes curled before flattening his tongue against your pussy, pressing your soft thighs deeper into the bed as his tongue probed even deeper into your sensitive walls. You could only rasp out whiny sighs, calls of his name that garbled into incoherent squeals, as every nerve in your body trembled. Your senses seemed to be even more heightened by your lack of sight, and you could feel every slight movement of his tongue deep within you.
Your legs unconsciously curled tighter around his head, and before you could collect your thoughts, you were pressing his face even deeper into you. You could hear the soft schlick sounds and the slurping of your essence faintly underneath your wanton cries. You didn’t care about your propriety, not with how good you felt. Your hips raised slightly as you felt yourself tip further near your release, and then you were spiraling and crashing into your climax, your mouth straining open in a loud pitched keen.
When you finally settled down, you felt the lips of the Duke meet yours for a heated kiss. You could taste the mix of your own juices and his saliva, and you sighed lightly into his mouth.
Your breathing was uneven by the time he broke away to let you breathe, and your mind buzzed from the aftermath of your orgasm. You should’ve built up stamina from the many nights you had already spent with the Duke, but the blindfold seemed to rob you of it, leaving you practically limp already.
“Onto your hands and knees,’’ you heard the Duke say. You whined in protest, but your body automatically began to rise up and blindly fall onto your hands and knees despite your mind not wanting to. You felt something hot press against the slicked folds of your pussy, and you barely could open your mouth to protest. You just came; you were too sensitive. These words were lost, replaced with a soft sigh of pleasure, as you felt the stretch of your walls around Yoongi’s cock. The press of Yoongi into you caused your cum and juices to leak out of your sensitive pussy and run down your inner thighs.
“You’re so fucking tight, squeezing around me like this,’’ Yoongi rasped into your ear,’’ You just came, and you’re still ready for more? You’re a whore underneath that perfection.’’
You barely were allowed to adjust to the intrusion before he pulled out and slammed back in so hard that your arms that were holding you up wobbled. Another rough piston of his hips against your ass sent your sprawling onto the bed, your mouth opening in lewd cries and practically drooling. You couldn’t make one single thought beyond the spine-tingling pleasure you received from having him so deep within you and the graze of his calloused palms against your soft breasts. The mix of the gentle feeling of his fingertips twisting your hard nipples and the rough feeling of being fucked so hard made your mind spin.
Yoongi, Yoongi, Yoongi. Those are the only words you could say, and it’s his name you cried out the loudest when his next thrust caused his cock to bump against your womb. You came a little at the feeling, toes curling in tightly and your hands practically scratching at the sheets. And then you’re climbing again, about to crumble into another orgasm that’d steal the breath out of your lungs and make you forget about the ache of your body and heart. Before you could, Yoongi pulled out, his breath ragged, and you didn’t know what he was going to do, yearning helplessly for him to just thrust in and spill his seed into your trembling womb.
You let out a sharp cry of surprise when he tenderly pushed you onto your back and suddenly picked you up, and you grabbed onto his shoulders, feeling his muscles tighten and flex underneath his soft skin. You didn’t know where he was taking you until you felt something cold against your back. Glass? There was no glass on the walls in the bedroom except for the…window.
“Yoongi, if there are any guests out there who see us—,’’ your next words were cut off by him driving his cock back deep into you, crushing your breath and your next words. He set an unforgiving pace, his hips crashing against yours, and you whimpered and moaned so loud that you could barely hear the raspy groans being dragged out of Yoongi’s throat. You were reaching your high again, and you forgot the fear of being seen by any banquet guests.
You could tell Yoongi was reaching his high too, with the way he throbbed and stretched and hit you just right. You felt his hot breath spill against your sensitive skin.
“I’m going to cum in you, my wife. You’re going to have our child.’’ The Duke’s grip tightened around your hips, and you knew his touch was going to leave marks on your skin.
You let out a choked sob in response, urging him to pound you even further.
“Please, please, Yoongi, please,’’ you sputtered, your mouth dry as you beg for his touch. You were so close, just nearly there.
You wanted to cum so badly, wanted to feel Yoongi even deeper in you, and you wrapped your arms around Yoongi’s neck, letting out an alarmed squeal, as your back slipped slightly on the glass and sent you further down Yoongi’s cock, impaling you. That movement seemed to be both the undoing of you and Yoongi.
Your legs locked around his waist, and you could feel tears leak out of your eyes and roll down your cheeks as you cum hard. Your head slammed into the glass, and your tongue lolled out of your mouth as your walls squeezed and fluttered around his cock. Yoongi groaned, his cock throbbing in you, and you felt his teeth tear into the skin of your neck as he reached his own orgasm. You let out a sound that was a mix of a moan and a sob as you felt him cum deep into your womb.
In that moment, you hoped new life would come forth. With a child, perhaps you wouldn’t feel so empty from thinking about Yoongi’s infatuation with his first love.
He rocked lightly, still buried deep within you, as if he heard your thoughts and wanted to seal his sperm deep within your fertile womb. You were too tired to do anything else as he slipped the blindfold off around your head and sent for servants to get the both of you cleaned. You, right then, were content with pretending that you were the only Yoongi loves.
And with the faint sound of music pulled out of strings humming through the manor and the warmth of a hot towel carefully cleaning you, you fell into an unsettled sleep.
Snow finally made way for the brightness of spring. The pure white of the landscape melted away into cold puddles of water and made way for grass, the vibrant color of emerald, to take a breath and peek into the sun. Specks of color bloomed in the form of tiny flowers, and you, who seemed to grow colder despite the warming of the seasons, were reminded of the garden in the back of the manor.
You were wilting; you could feel it. With nights plagued with dreams that let you bitterly numb in the morning and a head that seemed to throb at the slightest change of weather, it was unfortunate but not unexpected that the beginning of spring came with the beginning of your cold.
It was nothing major, but it left you stuck in bed, bleary eyes clinging to the drops of condensation rolling down the large glass windows of the bedroom. There was little for you to do, most of your work having been taken over by some of the Duke’s aids, and so you were stuck pondering over who you meant to the Duke. Due to your illness, you were kept in a separate room from the bedroom you shared with the Duke, and thus the seeds of the negative feelings you had been hiding in your heart began to sprout.
Many would’ve viewed this rest as a blessing but having time to get lost in your own thoughts to you was a curse.
You felt pathetic. The you who had freely run through the streets, the you who had wistfully sighed over romance novels, the you who had been so naïve would never have been this pathetic. Namjoon had visited you one day when you had started to finally recover from your ailment. You had remembered the shock that you had felt when you had opened the door to the balcony, wanting fresh air without a servant around, and taken a step out only to see Namjoon standing on the balcony.
“Namjoon, how did you get in here?’’ you asked. He smiled mysteriously at you but did not reply to your question, his eyes softening at the sight of you. You recalled the way you looked, so weak; your hair had been in a mess from having laid in bed all day, your cheeks had gotten sickly thin from your cold, and you were scandalously clad in your nightgown. You tightened the shawl you had thrown around your shoulders further around you.
“You don’t seem that well. I heard you were recovering, but I wanted to check in on you with my own two eyes.”
You sighed, trying to look disappointed in him, but the perk of your lip was not something that could be easily hidden from his sharp eyes.
“Well, aren’t you a good friend? But this isn’t proper.’’ You hushed your voice, taking a step back just in case any servants passing below happened to glance up at your balcony. “Does my Lord know you are here?”
“If Yoongi knew I was here, do you think he would’ve allowed me to get so close to you?’’ Namjoon’s smile turned a little bitter, though you did not know why. You nodded mutely, unconsciously pulling the shawl even tighter around you.
“This meeting isn’t proper either. My Lord must be afraid that I will make a fool out of the House of Min if I am not proper,’’ you spoke, your words hollow in your throat. You didn’t know why, but tears began to build up in your eyes and one drop slipped out, rolling down your cheek.
Namjoon’s eyes narrowed slightly in concern, and he took a step closer to you. You took a step back, wiping your eyes frantically with your hands as you fought to keep the tremble out of your shoulders.
“I’m sorry,’’ you inhaled, closing your eyes and using your hands to cover your face as you fought to rein yourself in,’’ My deepest apologies. I can’t…I can’t believe I lost myself like that for a second, in front of my Lord’s closest friend either. Please pretend that you never saw anything.’’
Namjoon’s expression softened; he remembered how strong and carefree you had looked when he had first met you, and now you looked so weakened, both from the cold and the tears you tried to hold back. You were like gold when he had first met you, shining brilliantly, but now you were as fragile as glass. His heart, though he had rarely felt the use of it, began to ache slightly. He reached out, about to touch your head, but he couldn’t. He dropped his hand back towards his side.
“I…,’’ the words Namjoon had never said in his lifetime rose in his throat. He couldn’t seem to stop himself from speaking such human words; Namjoon was not human. He was not kind. But for you, he could be. “What can I do to help you?’’
Your shoulders froze, your palms wet from the droplets of tears. You were desperate now; no sense of propriety made its way to your mind as you reached out and grasped Namjoon’s hand with your own trembling hands. He stiffened at your touch, at how delicate it was.
“Please…,’’ your voice was shakily soft, hoarse from your lack of use and your tears, your head lowered in shame. You were bowing now in front of him, hopelessly unable to meet his gaze. You were so pathetic, (Y/n); you didn’t deserve the title of princess. You didn’t deserve the title of Duchess. Bu your mouth continued to move, rushing words out. “Yoongi…the Duke…This is too much to ask you; I know this is too much to ask of you, Namjoon. I’ll owe you forever. Please, find out who the Duke’s first love, and…’’
You looked up at him, eyes rimmed in red and glossy with tears as you pushed out your last words. “Does he even hold me in his heart?’’
Namjoon’s eyes looked so conflicted then, his smile looking a bit colder on his lips. Even then, you clung onto his hand, shaking and pleading silently. Finally, he grasped your hands with his other hand and gently pushed your touch off of his.
“I will.” The smile he put on next was warm, but it seemed forced, too wide and too happy for what you were asking. “I suppose next time you will owe me a favor, Duchess.’’
You lowered your head back down in shame, and when you finally managed to raise it back up again, Namjoon had been long gone.
You were stuck on the balcony, the spring air, which should’ve been warm, cooling down. The sky faded from a pale blue to a dark gray, clouds rolling in to signify the season’s famous sign of pouring rain, but you could only stand there, frozen, as the wind lifted locks of your hair. When you felt the first droplet of rain against your cheek, rolling down reminiscent of your own tears, you finally broke out of your trance. Pinching the fabric of the shawl to keep it from falling down, you, on shaky limbs, turned around, sliding open the glass door and heading in.
That moment would later turn out to be one of the very few last moments you would ever see Namjoon, your friend, ever again.
And you would later regret ever asking him for the favor.
A/N: As always, if you want to be added to the taglist for part 3, reply with a 👑. I make a new taglist for each part based on the emoji replies, so thank you for understanding and cooperating. If you enjoyed the story, leave a comment or a detailed review below!
Also, please send any memes/moodboards based on Lineage in! The more there are, the faster I work haha :)
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Yandere! BTS reaction to their s/o being innocent ☾
The request: Hello sweetie can you do a yandere bts reaction of their s/o being innocent/pure.
I don’t care that it;s midnight and I haven’t prepared for my tests, I had so much fun with this!
☾ ☾ ☾
His fingers traced down the curves of your body as the sunlight tried getting into your room through the curtains. The world is as silence as if it ended in the night, only the soft breathing of yours is heard. He stops for a second as you start stirring. “Morning, jagi” he whispers. You wiggled your arms out from the bed sheets and used your fingers to rub your eyes before finally lifting your eyelids. “It’s so early” you complained, though a small smile pulled at the corners of your lips. You shiver when Jin’s fingers strokes your bare chest, only then you remember what happened only few hours before. You gasp completely tugging the bed sheets over your body. Jin’s laughter echoes through the room. “Jagi, I’ve seen you naked” you groan burying your red face into the crook of his neck. “No no. Go back to sleep Seokjin. We’ll talk when we fully dressed”
“Yoongs, come here!” you yelled from the kitchen. You heard the bedroom’s door open knowing he was probably taking a nap before. “What is it?” he asked groggily, not noticing what clothes you were wearing. “Come, taste this” you said happily motioning to the frosting you were making for the Jimin’s birthday cake. He crunched his nose, since he wasn’t the biggest fan of sweets. You frowned at his face before putting your own finger in it, then licking it. “it’s not too sweet! Why are you frowning?” you asked. After not hearing the answer you look up confused. Yoongi is frozen, his eyes running up and down your body, his mouth shaped into an “o”. “Is there something wrong?” you ask innocently wanting to move past him, so you could see yourself in the mirror. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me” he whispers tugging you closer to him. You feel Yoongi’s hot breath on your neck then tender brush of lips. You take a step back confused “Did I just turn you on by tasting frosting?”. He licks his lips before answering “You know, they say your juice tastes like whatever you ate that day. Can’t wait to taste you, jagi”. “Juice?” you frown. The heck is he talking about. In seconds your eyes get bigger making him laugh and fall in love with you even more “You pervert!”
You and Namjoon were both laying in the bed lazily as the rain fell in crazy chaotic drops. Your eyes were running through the lines of words as you kept turning page after the page of the book you had started reading that day. You giggled as Namjoon’s hands started to roam around your sides making you move in his embrace. “Namjoon, stop! It tickles!” you laugh, poking his arm with your free hand. He groaned as you accidentally shifted on his lap, making him get a boner. A loud gasp left your mouth, the second you felt something poking you. “Is that..Did I just..OH MY GOD” you squealed standing up, throwing him a pillow to cover it up. Namjoon started to laugh as you covered your eyes. “Is it over yet?” you asked slowly, glimpsing through your fingers. “Oh baby, it won’t disappear until I take care of it” before he could say anything else you ran out of the room. “Ah you and your innocent soul” he whispered under his breath.
You had always complained about how bored you get alone especially on those late evenings when missing Hobi made things even more complicated. That’s why you had decided to tag along to his late dance session. The actual plan was to only observe Hobi, but after few hours you stood up and jokingly shouted “You suck!”. He chuckled knowing you were probably getting bored. But the moment you yelled that you could do better, his dominant side revealed itself “Oh really?” he raised his eyebrow “Prove it”. Knowing how shy actually were, it surprised him once you pushed him out of the center and starting moving your hips, then your whole body. He stood completely still, already getting a boner. On the other hand, you couldn’t help but start laughing. “I can’t believe I still remember this routine…You alright?” you asked walking to him, completely unaware of the emotions you made run through his body. Blush rushed to your cheeks once you noticed his boner. “Baby, cover up!” you giggled like a little kid. Hoseok chuckled wrapping his arms around you as you tried looking anywhere but him. He loved this innocent side of you.
You were walking through the empty streets of Seoul, hand in hand drowning in the comfortable silence. Jimin would turn his head to you once every moment. And those moments would be secured in his heart forever because whenever you would feel his gaze on you, with reddish cheeks you would look down, kicking a rock or two. His stomach would turn around every single time. The innocence you had made him fall in love with you, it made him cherish you. You squealed as the rain drops started to fall, hitting the dirty pavement breaking the silence. He frowned as you let go of his hand, turning around, holding your arms in the air. “What are you doing?” he asked confused. You laughed before looking at him “Dance with me under the falling rain, Jimin” he shrugged his shoulders before joining you. Both of you start running, Jimin is a little bit concerned that you were going to hurt yourself, but he forgets it all as your cold lips touches his. The innocent you held was his treasure making him love you an easy task. You didn’t need much, just Jimin and the love you see in movies.
Taehyung dragged you to your bedroom before pushing you softly onto your bed. You looked at him puzzled as you saw him walking to your closet and pulling out a huge box. “What do you have in that box?” you ask as he plops down next to you. “Close your eyes!” his cheeky smile is the last thing you see before closing your eyes. You hear him take out something before it lands in your hands. You start to touch it bravely as you hear him say it’s not anything alive. You frown and ask confused. “Tae, is this a freaking banana? Don’t tell me you have a box of fruits in our closet because I swear to God..” he giggles before telling you to open your eyes. You shriek as you see it’s definitely not a banana you were holding but a dildo. “KIM TAEHYU..” you don’t finish your sentence as you gawk at the box filled with sex toys. You fall onto your bed, pulling the sheets over your head. “You’re evil! Why would you do this to me!” Taehyung laughs as he gets under the sheets facing you. You think it’s over before he shoves another dildo into your face. “Look, this one is your favorite color!”. A loud squeal escapes you mouth before you throw it out of his hands. “Stop!” you whine before Taehyung wraps his arms around you. “Ah, so innocent”
It was your weekly movie marathon, nestled on your comfy sofa, cozy with a blanket, eyes glued to the TV in front of you. You were always happy with the choice of movie, no matter who picked it, you or Jungkook. Tonight it was your picked movie, but it had far too many intimate scenes. You quietly groaned at yet another scene, where the sound of clapping bodies filled your room, it didn’t help that the volume was so loud that it seemed like the windows were vibrating also. Jungkook noticed the way your body didn’t feel as relaxed under his touch as it was before. “Is there something wrong?” he asked, his bambi eyes staring into yours. You shook your head before smiling. He shrugged his shoulders before getting back his attention to the movie. Only seconds later, your head was buried deep into his neck, making him feel ticklish as your hot breath hit his neck. You felt his chest vibrate as he laughed. “You were the one who picked this movie, love” you poked his chest groaning “I know! I would’ve picked something else! Maybe the little mermaid or something” he grinned at your innocence before kissing your nose, then your lips. Your innocence made him feel proud to call you his. “Let’s change the movie. I didn’t like the male actor anyway”
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Yandere! BTS [Fairytale AU]
AU where BTS play the roles of the classic princesses, and are yandere. These are loosely based on the fairy tales, but somethings will be different because that's how I want it to be lol
Warning: As this post contains yandere themes, the characters display behaviors that can be uncomfortable to read. Read at your own risk. This work is purely fiction. I do not believe any of the mentioned members would display any sort of this behaviour irl.
Beauty & the Beast
Jin is succumbed to become the hostage of the beast in exchange for his parent’s safety. Initially, he was very cold to [Name] the beast because she had confined him, and she was the reason why he had become separated from his family. However, although he was ‘imprisoned,’ he was not treated as a prisoner. In fact, he was given a lavish life that was even better than the one he lived with his family.
It happened slowly, but it happened for surely. Jin began to warm up to the new life he lived. Also, he became intrigued about what [Name] the beast was really like, when he heard stories about her kindness, and selfness from the tea pots and other talking furniture. He started to see how sweet she was in the little ways that made his heart skip a beat. Her benevolent nature was evident in the way she would tenderly cater to the plants in her garden, or how softly she would read to him.
Without becoming too aware of it, Jin was beginning to become fixated on [Name]. He did not realize the full potential of his fixation on [Name] until she was attacked by his villagers. The moment [Name] fainted, and was no longer able to stand, much less fight for herself, rage blinded him enough to go on a killing rampage. Once his rampage ceased, and the blood of his enemies covered him, he stumbled back to [Name], who was lying motionlessly.
He cradled her in his arms, and tears of silent mourning rolled down his cheeks. The moment one landed on [Name], there was a bright glow as she turned back into the human she was.
Jin was in awe of her beauty. Meanwhile, [Name] woke up terrified due to all the blood that covered him.
“J-Jin what h-hap—“ She tried to ask, however Jin cut her off.
“Shh,” He began, as he brought her closer to himself, and hugged her tightly. “I killed them because they hurt you and tried to take you away from me. But you don’t have to worry because I will never let that happen again. You are mine forever.”
Before his slumber until awaken by a true kiss had begun, Prince Yoongi was a collector and admirer of all things beautiful. He loved to marvel at anything which fit his standards. If there was ever an antique which there was only one of, and Yoongi had set his sight on it, every competitor during his era knew to let him have it for their own sake.
In the new era he now lived in, he was the lost prince who had returned. He was given the right to rule the current throne in his kingdom almost immediately. After his power reigned, the new competitors learned to stay out of Yoongi’s way the hard way.
See, [Name] was his destined princess who was the one who had broken his curse. Out of everyone else, and all other possibilities,it had been her. So surely, it was fateful for her to belong to Yoongi and no one else.
Yoongi had become infatuated with [Name] the moment he had seen her. Now, that infatuation had become so extreme that he was going to stop at nothing until she was completely his. Anyone who tried to prevent that from happening, were certainly going to face consequences which would be worse than death.
For his entire, Hoseok had been isolated from the outside world. He had his freedom restricted within his home. He never got to experience life for its raw experiences, create meaningful relationships with others, or explore the ways excitement and adrenaline felt until he met [Name]. Granted that she had peaked his interest unfairly through the wishes the genie gave her, and she portrayed herself to be the status she was not. However, what she had shown Hoseok, what she had made him feel was all on her own terms. The parts of life she showed him took his breath away.
Hoseok experienced what it was like to live in a situation for what it was; in which limitations existed, and no one catered to him like a baby. He got to taste true freedom and build the courage to make his own decisions, all because of [Name]. In his dull life that once only consisted of materialistics and statuses, she had become his light, and shown on the colours he yearned to see.
Eventually, he became addicted to her light to the point he planned to shroud her entire life with the darkness he had to live in. This was so he could return the favour, and become her light in her darkness, the way she had for him.
It was no new news to anyone in the kingdom that the current Queen [Name] [Surname], hated one of the local aristocrats Kim Namjoon with a burning passion. To the public, their relationship seemed like a small rivalry which caused them to always banter, or attempt to hurt each other out of innocent jealousy or spite. However, in reality, their relationship went a lot deeper than that. It was a lot more dangerous and toxic than what others could see it as.
Firstly, [Name] wanted to hunt and get rid off Namjoon because she was envious of his attractive appearance. He was everything that she wanted to be, and held all the titles that she wanted to have. [Name] wished to be known as the most divine and beautiful person in her Kingdom. She was incredibly pretty, but Namjoon was the perfection she could not beat. Hence, she wanted his existence to cease.
However, despite her attempts to send assassins to kill him, none ever succeeded. Her predicament actually led the situation in a direction she had not anticipated. It was in the direction where Namjoon had come to love her for her hatred and glory, and he loved the excitement of the chase and action he experienced due to her hunting him. For him, this had all turned into a game, and this game was nearing its end when he was the one who had captured [Name] instead.
“You can’t— you can’t get rid off me,” [Name] stammered in fear, while Namjoon backed her into a corner. His lips were spread across his face in a sinister grin, and there was madness glinting in his eyes.
“Oh baby, I’m not going to get rid off you. You are too much fun at the moment for that to happen. Instead, I’m going to hunt and chase you now until you break and submit to me.”
(makane line under the cut!)
For the majority part of his life, Jimin had lived in cruel circumstances where he was treated like an abomination. He was forced to cook, clean, and serve the people that was ‘supposed’ to be his family, but never treated him as such. Despite everything that he did for them, they never repaid him with even the smallest act of kindness. It was not farfetched to say that Jimin had not been genuinely happy for years. But this, and everything else in his life changed from the night he sneaked into the ball which was hosted by the princess.
He only went to the ball because he simply wanted to enjoy himself for one night by dancing through its entirety. However, fate had better plans written for him because he attracted the attention of the princess. She was the first one in years to smile so fondly at him, and treat him with kindness, and as the person he was.
His time with the princess in that night was absolutely magical; he loved every moment of it. For this reason, after being wedded to the princess and through starting their new life together, he came to cherish her kind personality a bit too much.
He turned into a possessive tyrant who wanted to be the only one to receive her kindness, and relentlessly punished others who dared to avert her sweet attention away from him.
In this tale of magic and romance, Taehyung was a cursed prince who spent his days as a swan, and nights as a human in loneliness. There was no one for him to converse with, spend his time with, or to love. Until one day, a princess came along. She visited his abode in the evenings to escape her royal life, and for a “breath of fresh air.” She caressed his soft feathers lovingly, and told him the tales of her world. She become the sole light in Taehyung’s darkness, and he was enamored.
One night, he promised to himself that the next evening when the princess visited, he would reveal his identity to her. He believed that by doing this, she will fall in love with him too, and as a result, his curse would end.
However, when the princess never visited again, and Taehyung found out about her marriage to another, he was enraged.
Finally, he decided to set out on a journey to find his princess. He swore to end the person who dared to try and steal her away from him, in the cruelest way he could.
The Little Mermaid (lol how original. It's not like I already have a whole story with this au for JK and just reusing it for this thread because I was out of ideas)
Jungkook is the new crowned King for the merfolk. Under the sea, unlike humans, merfolk only consisted of males. Jungkook was already obsessed with humans to the point he spent his entire time and resources to gather intel on them and neglected his duties for his people. However, his obsession went to new extreme levels when he saved a drowning woman, and became besotted by her beauty.
The softness of her skin, to the memorizing sight of her drowning face -- Jungkook was immersed and was willing to go beyond any limits to have her his. Compared to his need to find [Name] on the shore and own her as a possession, everything else fell short and became insignificant. His responsibility as the new ruler for his people, or consideration for the life [Name] lived as a human was disregarded. All that mattered to Jungkook was [Name], and that she should belong to him.
(you can find the link to the whole story on my masterpost ^^)
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Sex with Yandere Yoongi, Taehyung & Jungkook
Very smutty so beware.
Sex with Yandere Yoongi:
I feel like this could go two ways.
1st way: usually a result of jealousy or him needing to punish you. Very possessive. Very rough. A TEASE. Spanking. Dirty talk.
“This is what you wanted isn’t it?”
Don’t even think about cumming. That’s not gonna happen. He’ll bring you to the edge a ton of times. He’d smile and laugh at how frustrated you’d become. He’d get off on your frustrated whimpers and pleas. Loves it even more when you cry for him. High key loves when you beg.
2nd way: NEEDY AF. When he wanted to, he could he so soft. Very handsy. Soft sweet moans. Praise kink. Really shows you how much he loves you. “Fuck baby I love you so much. You’re so good to me.” Makes sure you’re taken care of before he is. Thanks you after.
Sex with Yandere Taehyung:
I think he’s very similar to that aggressive side of Yoongi.
Very dominant. LOVES PUNISHING YOU. Such a tease. But also love to please you. Overstimulation.
“Come again or I’ll have to punish you.” Bondage. Loves to see you helpless and at his mercy. Also loves to tell you how good you’re doing. “Just like that baby. You’re doing so good.” Biting kink. Loves to bite you and leave marks everywhere so everyone will know who you belong to. Loves to humiliate you. Will make sure you moan loud when he knows others are around or will put you in a position to get caught so everyone will see how dirty you are.
Sex with Yandere Jungkook:
This could go two ways too.
80% of the time Jungkook is a possessive dom. Don't @ me. He likes to mark you. He loves when you ride him and his thigh. Daddy kink. He isn't shy about people finding about about your sex life. Brags about it. Loves to try new things.
The other 20% of the time- "Nooooonaaa." Do not fight me on this. Jk has a noona kink. Idc. He wouldn’t be a full sub. He just has sub tendencies. Whiny, needy, praise kink Kookie. He still likes to be in charge. he's just a soft.
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Lineage (M) | 4
Pairing: Duke Yoongi x Princess Reader
Word Count: 5.2K
Summary: When an engagement locks you, the 8th and forgotten princess, to the duke infamous for his cruelty, you find yourself counting the days until your inevitable death. It’s terrifying to think of your end, but when you arrive at his territory, you realize there’s a more morbid reason behind your marriage, and that the duke is much worse than the rumors have painted him out to be.
Warnings: HEAVY yandere themes, death, mentions of gore and death, near-death experiences, obsessive behaviors, manipulation, mentions of smut, 18+, explicit language, pregnancy, vomiting
A/N: wow...I can’t believe this story (well the main story; there’s a special chapter and an epilogue coming up) is over. Over 40 pages later...It feels like I’ve raised and nurtured a baby into a somewhat adult and now I have to send it off for college or smth :( I never thought the story would do this good in the first place (part 1 has 4k+ notes and I’m ,, shook ,,,) so to everyone who supported and loved this story (as messy as it was)...THANK YOU! Please keep supporting my writing, and I hope to keep improving as your lovely kosmosguk :]
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 |
The air was still cold, the kind of cold that heavily bore on your lungs and left you rattling like the only thing left of you was a decaying ivory skeleton. You supposed the cold made sense, even though it was spring and it shouldn’t have been so cold. Some part of you convinced yourself it was the norm even when droplets of icy water splashed onto your frail cheeks. Even when you closed the door behind you, you could feel the chill; even when an acrid taste built up in your throat, you could not stop shivering.
Why could you remember the look on Namjoon’s face? You closed your eyes. Go away, go away, go away. His face lingered even then, even more stark against the darkness of your closed lids, hollow, disappointed eyes and lips curled too rigidly, too unnaturally into a smile. You knew that look. You hated that look.
You could feel the pain in your chest, prickling, and that pain seemed to sink itself into your stomach. Why did it hurt? Why were you hurting?
10. 9. 8.
You counted in your mind softly as the nausea swelled up, like the disgustingly messy crescendo of an agonizing melody. Now, this was strange, wasn’t it? Your cold wasn’t supposed to be accompanied by such nausea. When you began to heave, bracing yourself against the frame of your bed, you heard a knock and then the door click open.
A maid stood out there, her eyes widening as if she could not fathom the sight of you. You clasped your hand around your mouth, tears building up in your eyes, and you choked on a heave. You heard her footsteps tapping frantically as she dashed to get a bucket, but you couldn’t hold in the prickling in your throat, the swirling in your stomach.
Tears spilled out, dropping onto the ground, as you bent over and retched all over your nightgown and the carpet. Your vision blurred, spots dancing, and you sunk heavily into the moment of weakness.
When you came to, you were being encased in something warm. You didn’t smell anything rancid like what you had been expecting; instead, the soft pleasant scene of rose oil scented soap met your nose, and you exhaled a relieved sigh. Wait…rose wasn’t the only smell. You could smell a hint of wine and something muskier, though slightly sweet. The smell of it was so familiar. It couldn’t be? You peeked open an eye to look up to see your surroundings, and your mouth dropped open slightly.
“D-duke? My Lord. Why are you here? Why…How did I get here?’’ you sputtered, and you tried to push yourself out of his hold. His gaze, along with his hold, remained steady. He reached out slightly and gently trailed a finger down the curve of your cheek.
“I haven’t been able to visit you lately because of how busy I’ve been…If I had known you were feeling so ill, I would’ve been by your side. I’m so sorry,’’ his tone was remorseful. The Duke, who everyone believed had no bone of emotion in his body and who was notorious for never feeling remorse, was apologizing to you. His words seemed to wash out every agony you had experienced. You rapidly blinked away the hint of tears in your eyes and ducked your head shyly.
He caught your chin with a hand before you could hide your face and lifted it gently. You noticed the black circles imprinted into the skin under his eyes, the way his face was even more waxy and pale than usual. Every aggrievance you had despaired over while alone in that room faded; you missed him. You missed him so much. You wouldn’t have been stuck in your own head if he had been there to hold you…but he was here now.
That thought washed over you, and you wrapped your fingers around the hand that was under your chin. His hand was limp as you pushed it down to your thrumming heart. Your stomach fluttered as his fingertips traced your warm skin peeking out of the collar of your nightgown. You carefully held his hand there. You didn’t notice the brief flash of guilt on his face.
You didn’t say anything, your hand still firmly holding his, and you shuffled your body closer, closing your eyes. The scent of the two of you mixed together was pleasant, and although Yoongi’s touch was usually unnaturally cold, today he was so warm. Or maybe the warmth of you had seeped out and spread around the two of you. That was okay; you were warm enough for the both of you. You suddenly felt so tired, even though you had just slept.
“Yoongi…,’’ your voice was barely a mumble,’’ I’m tired. Stay with me?’’
He moved the hand in your grasp slightly, and you held on tightly even though you were half-asleep. He chuckled lowly.
“Don’t worry. Relax your hand. I’ll be here,’’ he spoke. You complied, and you felt his fingers wrap themselves around yours. The two of you laid there, a hand clasped with the other between your chests, and you took in the sensation of your husband with every deep inhale.
“I’ll always be here.”
“Is she better?’’
Namjoon leaned back on the chain, but his posture was still stiff. Yoongi gazed at him with cold eyes from the chair across from Namjoon.
“What were you doing with her? Alone.’’ Yoongi’s voice was menacing.
Namjoon casually shrugged, his voice was level and careful to not expose any of his inner emotions.
“Wouldn’t you like to know? I was checking up on her, something her husband wasn’t doing. She didn’t look too good either,’’ Namjoon kept an eye on Yoongi’s reaction, his tone accusatory and raising in volume,’’ It made me think that you don’t give a damn about her, even though she looks and acts so much like her.’’
Namjoon laughed bitterly.
“Don’t what? Don’t mention how much of a shitty husband you are? Don’t mention her? Shouldn’t I be telling you that? Don’t treat her like a replacement. She isn’t her. She died years ago. I saw her dead body. You saw her dead body. She’s not here anymore, Yoongi. You have to move on.’’
Yoongi’s palms were in fists now, his knuckles turning white, but his voice remained steady.
“She’s not dead.’’
Namjoon looked at Yoongi in disbelief, his expression twisting even further. Namjoon could only laugh, the sound dry and hoarse, and it crackled out like the remnants that Namjoon held in his heart.
“Yoongi.’’ This wasn’t Namjoon. Namjoon rarely got angry at Yoongi; hell, after what happened, he never got even slightly bent up at Yoongi, but he saw your face, contorted and agonized. His voice pressed out like a layer of bitter poison. He was on his feet now. “Fucking wake up. She’s dead. She died!”
“She hasn’t died,’’ Yoongi inhaled a deep breath,” She’s alive; I know it!’’
Namjoon shook his head, and before he knew it, his fist had collided with Yoongi’s jaw, sending Yoongi’s head swiveling to the right. He grabbed Yoongi by the shirt. Yoongi didn’t move, barely flinching from the blooming bruise on his face.
“Get it in your head, bastard. I’ve known you for centuries, Yoongi. I cared about her too, but she’s dead. But you know who’s not dead! Your wife. And she’s dying because of you. You want to cause someone else who loves you to die again?’’
“She’s alive, Namjoon! She died, but she’s back. Namjoon, don’t you understand?’’
Namjoon yanked Yoongi up, curling back his mouth to shout some more, but his words died in his throat before they could rise and leave on his tongue. There was a deranged look in Yoongi’s usually composed eyes. Yoongi looked feral, a murderous beast rippling underneath the façade of the weak human he wore, and Namjoon felt his spine curl in chills.
Namjoon dropped Yoongi back onto the sofa, his chest rising up in rapid heavy breaths, and he shook his head before spitting out his final words.
“You, you’re the one who doesn’t understand. If you don’t get your act together, as your friend, I’ll give you a warning: something will take her away. Whether it be a new suitor or death.”
Namjoon turned to leave, and his hand was on the doorknob when he heard Yoongi’s voice.
“When she died, I made a choice, Namjoon.”
Namjoon didn’t move. His breathing was ragged.
“You ever wonder how I managed to survive this long with most of my power gone? It’s because of her. I made the choice when…when she was bleeding out, I made a pact with the God of life. The God of life knew that I would’ve destroyed that family of bastards and then the world if I had a chance, so he made a deal with me. She would be born as the unloved princess of the same line of people who killed her, but I had to promise that I could not destroy the world. Namjoon, I’m telling you this for a reason.’’
Namjoon turned quickly back, his eyes pinned to Yoongi’s still form on the sofa. He didn’t expect Yoongi to keep talking.
“But we’ve been friends for centuries. You deserve the truth. The deal I made with that bastard wasn’t perfect. When she was reborn, she would be human. Her. She had been so in love with flowers, and now she doesn’t even look at them the same anymore. But God said…,’’ Yoongi inhaled,’’ God said I could have her really back if I was careful. Where she had been stabbed, there’s a mark. If I could make her love me once more and I waited until the Spring Equinox… If I stabbed her through there, I would have my love back.’’
There was a pause to laugh, though it was no laugh of joy. “Isn’t that cruel? I would have to hurt her the way they hurt her. But it’s worth it. It’s worth it if I have a chance to get her back.’’
“Yoongi…!’’ Namjoon’s breath was even more ragged now. Rage colored it. “She’s human. If you kill her, there’s a chance she’ll actually die! That body of hers is human. It can’t contain the power of a deity!’’
“Don’t you think I know that?’’ Yoongi’s voice struck an unruly crescendo, and he finally rose to his feet. Namjoon flinched slightly at the maniacal expression painted in his friend’s once calm eyes. “This is my final chance to bring her back. She’ll never be hurt again! I’ll lock her up in a safe place, my flower, my…my wife.’’
“Don’t you understand what you’re doing is going to hurt her? It’s already hurting her!’’ Namjoon’s voice boomed in a yell, but Yoongi didn’t back down. He was too far now to back down.
“What does it matter? I love her. She’s the same as her, but she’s also not the same. She needs to be completed. The her of now is just a vessel for her true self… And as long as I break it, everything will go back to the way it should’ve been before she decided to trust those mortal bastards over me!’’
There was a tension in the room that couldn’t be swallowed by Yoongi’s increasingly rough breathing. Namjoon’s voice managed to croak out. There was no stability to it, not anymore.
“When you said there’s a reason why you’re telling me this, what is it? You know I’m going to stop you from pulling through with this. She’s dead, Yoongi, and the her of right now is a mortal! She’ll die once more, and what will you do then? As your friend—!’’
“What friend? What friend does a demon even have? And what friend looks at his friend’s wife in that manner, in nearly the same way that I do…! Namjoon, I know you love her.’’ Yoongi’s voice lowered back down to a threateningly calm voice. “And I can’t have that.”
Namjoon steeled himself for a fight, but he was no match for Yoongi. Yoongi was older than him, more powerful than him. He had slain bodies on the battlefield without losing breath. And now, he was going to do the same to Namjoon. Yoongi’s hands wrapped tightly around Namjoon’s neck, and Namjoon choked on a wheezing breath.
Namjoon tried to suck in a shaky breath as his vision splotched. He was a demon. He couldn’t quite die like humans did, but there was an end to all entities, demonic or heavenly, and Yoongi’s power was bitterly overwhelming. Yoongi’s fingers dug into the thin mortal-like flesh of Namjoon, and blood the deep color of ink dribbled out of crescent marks.
“I’ll take into consideration your many years of servitude to me, Namjoon. Your end will be much kinder than the ends of those before you.”
Flowers were peeking through blades of jade-green glass when you finally found yourself outside the rumored garden of the Duke’s first love.
He had gone for the day, and you had bitten the apple of temptation that curiosity had granted you.
You were the duchess; there was no need for you to be so cautious nor feel so guilty. But your gaze darted left and right, careful of any lingering servants, as you pushed your way into the depths of the garden.
Lush flowers greeted you, petals of every shade of the rainbow unfurling and glistening with the morning dew, and you exhaled in soft wonder. The sight was marvelous. The garden was beautiful, and it had been tended to meticulously. The beauty of the garden coupled with the pinpricks of growing despair in your heart as you furthered your way in.
You heard something snap and heard the voices of servants from just outside.
“The Duchess hasn’t been feeling well, hasn’t she?’’ you heard the voice’s echo.
“Ay, it’s unfortunate that the Duke has been too busy to look after her. They used to be so enamored at the beginnin’ of their marriage, but noble marriages…,’’ the responding voice hushed, but you could still hear the last part,” they never really go happy. Especially since rumors been spreading that the Duke still has a first love he can’t forget and only married the Duchess cause she reminded him of ‘er.”
You hurried your pace further in, not wanting to get caught. Your breath hitched, and the agony of those soft words pierced your already aching heart. Your eyes prickled in hot tears. Why, you wanted to scream at yourself as your footsteps quickened and your vision blurred, why were you so weak?
He had treated you so well. He loved you, didn’t he?
Your ankle twisted as your shoe slipped on the wet ground, and you were sent sprawling into the ground, grass and mud staining your dress. You looked pathetic, wet and muddy and close to tears…and then you looked up and made eye contact with the gray statue standing in front of you.
It had been carefully carved in the image of a young girl, holding an armful of flower bouquets—you noticed that the flowers were not made of stone like the rest of her and that they were fresh, as if someone had tenderly made sure to replace them every day—in her arms and beaming widely as her legs raised in a gleeful skip. She looked alive, but most importantly…she looked exactly like you.
From the slope of her nose to the curve of her lips and even to the way her eyes turned up in a playful smile, reminiscent of the naïve you of the past, she was every inch you like you were every centimeter her.
The answer to the previous question rang and echoed painfully in your head: No.
Your tears broke free from its constraints. They dripped down your cheeks like blood drops, and you muffled a sob as the cruel truth dug its blade into your heart and left you painfully bleeding out in a beautiful garden filled with the past’s flowers.
You allow him to embrace you as the waning moonlight slowly aligned itself to match the glowing sunlight. Even when he seemed distracted, and you could tell his thoughts were drifting back to her, you would shamelessly bring him closer to you, spread your legs farther apart and moan more like the whore you were. Anything, you would repeat to yourself, anything to keep him to you.
But if you were willing to do anything for him to love you, why did you find hot tears spilling onto your cheeks as you watched the sleeping him? The moonlight would embrace his skin, light it up like it was alabaster, and you would realize that perhaps the love he had shown you before was like the love an artist gave to a statue: tender but shallow.
Even then, you would lose yourself in your own rosy-painted memories, in which he tenderly cradled your hand and told you how beautiful you had looked the night of the ball. You loved him; you loved him too much.
But why, if you loved him so, did you hide your nausea to yourself? Why did you pick at meals and force yourself to eat them despite the growing urge to vomit? Why did you hide? Did you want to remain eternally beautiful and pure to him, like the innocent girl laughing silently in that wretched garden?
Did he ever love you?
When the hours of moonlight finally clicked to match the hours of daylight, you received your answer.
The moonlight served to guide your clumsy fingers. You were carefully embroidering a delicate lily, though it did not look as lovely as you had hoped, into a pure ivory handkerchief when the door of your shared room with the Duke clicked open.
His face was solemn as ever, but there was a soft light that glowed in his cool eyes. The tenderness on his face was reminiscent of the kind he used to have for you back in the earlier days of your marriage. You were enthralled, bewitched, and entranced as he took quick paces towards you. He swept you up in his arms, his embrace strong and firm, and the handkerchief slipped from your still figures.
If you had not been immersed in the high of his affection, you would have been despaired over the handkerchief, with its half-finished lily, getting dirty. Your mother, before her death, used to adore lilies. She would smile bittersweetly as the bouquet of lilies delivered from the king dwindled and wilted before smoothing your hair down, her voice dim as she spoke.
“I used to love lilies…They stand for three things: devotion, humility, and…”
The third part seemed to escape your mind, but you found yourself not caring as much as Yoongi’s grip on you tightened.
“My Duke, what are y—?’’ you gasped out in surprise.
His voice cut you off, the sound rough and haggard and…exhilarated.
You felt something in your gut alert you of danger, but you did not care. He was holding you; you melted in his touch.
“My wife, I must ask you a dire question,’’ his voice echoed in the silent room,” Do you love me, my wife…Do you love me?’’
Your response spilled out of your lips as if you were bewitched by a spell. Your words were coated in a pathetic, desperate vulnerability.
“Yes, husband, I love you! I love you, I love you, I love you so much.”
Your breath hitched as his grip strengthened, and your brain was covered in a dizzy haze as you tried to gasp for a deeper inhale of air. He pulled away; you were surprised, briefly, at how cruel his eyes looked in the moonlight despite the warmth exuding from him.
“Good. My wife, I love you. I have a surprise for you, but you must trust me. Hold my hand,’’ he reached his hand out, and your hand was clasped in his iron-cold hand before you could fully process your thought. You blindly trusted him, even when he took out a fine silk ribbon.
It was a beautiful shade of gold, though slightly dirty, but your lips twitched nervously as you noticed small splatters of red dying the fabric. However, Yoongi’s gentle smile never wavered, and like an innocent lamb awaiting slaughter, you closed your eyes and let him tie it around you.
“Perfect. You look beautiful, my wife.”
Your heart skipped a beat. All of the love he had ever shown you before had been subtle. But it poured and oozed out of every word that he had spoken. You were foolishly giddy.
You could feel a slight skip in your step as Yoongi guided you. Step by step, you placed your trust in him. You did not hear any other sound other than the footsteps of Yoongi and you. It was unnerving, almost, the silence in the halls. But even when you heard something squelch, like the carpet had been soaked in some liquid, underneath the wooden soles of your slippers, you did not let your footsteps waver.
You were outside now. Your shoes brushed against grass and grated against stone, and you felt the merciless night wind whip at your hair before slowing down to a gentle breeze. You shivered and sought warmth, but there was no warmth, not even in Yoongi’s hand around yours, outside of the ribbon around your eyes.
“My wife, we are here,” you felt Yoongi let go of your hand, and his fingertips brushed against your cheek as he reached to undo the gold ribbon. The fabric fluttered down, the softness of it remaining on your face as you made petrified eye contact with the statue.
It was her; she held new flowers in her hands. A bundle of lilies sparkled white in the moonlight, and you felt your face go ashy. You remembered the final third meaning of lilies: restored innocence after death.
“Duke…Yoongi, what’s…What’s,’’ you tried to sputter out. Your pupils were dilated from fear, and you did not shake from the cold. No, you trembled from a deep sense of fearful dread. You flung your arms and embraced yourself as the nausea boiled in your gut and rose in your throat like acrid steam.
He got closer to you, and the moonlight illuminated the mania in his eyes and the glint of a blade. There was no calm before the storm; no, this was the storm. You let out a shrill scream and turned to run away.
Your feet tore up grass in your frenzy, but he was the Duke that many had rumored came from hell. He cut down thousands on the battlefield and emerged each time drenched in blood. It was then, as he reached out and grabbed your arm in a callous, bruising grip, that you came to see the monster that lingered in the human shell you had loved.
He shoved you down to the ground, and his voice pitched as he spat out: “The first night that you had died, I had nearly killed them all. I had planned on vengeance, on soaking this damned earth in blood, but I made a deal. The God said if I spared their creation, I could have you back…You would be human, disgusting and impure like the ones who had slain you…but I could change that. Only if I eliminate the stench of humanity from you.”
You scrambled back as he approached and hugged your stomach. You could already feel the sting of the blade, but you still cried out as the blade glinted in his hand.
“Yoongi, I’m pregnant!’’ you kept your eyes firmly on him,” Yoongi, I have your child! Please, please, if you kill me, this child will die!”
The blade in Yoongi’s hand paused as your breath caught in your throat.
His voice was weak and trembled slightly as he spoke. He was so vicious just a second prior, but now he looked ready to collapse. “My…my child…”
You sought to further his hesitation, to save not only yourself but your child too, and it seemed easy enough to begin weeping once more as your emotions soared to a rattled high.
“If you kill me, you kill this child. Our child. You asked me to call you Yoongi when we married,’’ you sucked in a shaky breath,” Didn’t I mean something to you? And if not me, what about our child? I look so much like…so much like her that our baby would surely resemble her too. Please, Yoongi, my husband, please, please, please!’’
His eyes flickered to the blade in his hand and back to the red mark peeking through the neckline of your gown. There was a resolute light that returned to his suddenly brighter red eyes that startled your heart back into a fiercer race in your chest.
No, please, you silently begged him and hugged your stomach.
“We can always,’’ he swallowed, and your eyes stilled in a conflicting hopelessness as he raised the blade back up once more,” When you’re her again, we can always have more children. We’ll have so many, as much as we want; that will be my apology for taking away our first child. You’ll understand…She would understand.”
The blade shing-ed as it pierced downwards through the night towards your chest, and you clenched your eyes shut and tried to shield your unborn child.
The sound abruptly stopped, and you heard a muffled groan accompany a heavy thud against the ground. You peeked open your eyes, and you choked on shock.
The man before you looked exhausted and you saw broken iron clasped around one of his wrists. There was exhaustion rimmed underneath his eyes, but you saw firm courage in them too.
“N…Namjoon! Namjoon, Namjoon, please, please save my child!’’ you were screaming hysterically, your eyes hazy as you refused to let your arms fall from around your stomach.
He glanced back at you. That courage grew, and you felt wretched as the bitter taste of grief bite at your tongue. You knew what you were asking for was selfish. You had been selfish from the beginning.
You were selfish to want a happy ending. You were selfish to yearn for a family of three with the Duke, your child’s chubby fingers placed in the hands of each parent, and you were selfish to want to not lose someone else important to you either.
“Go…Go…Now!’’ he called out to you. “He’ll get up soon; you have to leave!’’
You stumbled back up on weak legs. Tears rose in your swollen eyes.
“Please, Namjoon, I can’t…,’’ you choked on a ragged sob,” I can’t leave you here!’’
“You have to!’’ his eyes darted back to Yoongi’s collapsed form,” I’ll come back for you. So hurry…Go!’’
“Promise! You have to be safe!’’ At the sound of Yoongi—no, the Duke—getting up from the ground, you forced yourself to kick your shoes off, turn around, and run away. As pebbles and branches bit at your naked feet, you could hear the sound of fighting. Please, Namjoon be safe, you prayed.
When you reached outside of the garden, you heard a loud choked yell of pain and closed your eyes shut as tears bit once more at them. Was…Was Namjoon dead? You looked back into the darkness of the maze-like garden, the darkness even more haunting with the grave silence permeating it, and you felt grief swell in your gut. You were sobbing now, ready to collapse into the unforgiving dirt, but Namjoon was willing to risk his life for you. You could not stop now.
You saw a figure standing outside, blocking the path away from the garden. Though it was dark, you managed to make out who he was as you got closer. His previously youthful and cheerful features were carefully set back in a more aged look. It was the aid that the Duke had hired for you: Jungkook.
“My goddess, the demon has sacrificed his life for you. Though you are human, God had sent me to guide you. The demon king had promised that he would not slain any other life in vain, and with the death of the demon, that promise has been unfulfilled. But God is merciful…They will protect you and your unborn child from danger.”
The aid’s voice was stony, unlike the light tone he had adopted before, but somehow, that very sound relaxed you. You had no one else to trust now and no way to live securely with your child.
The angel extended a hand, just like the Duke had extended his hand out to you while plotting to end your life.
“Will you take my hand, and let me protect you for as long as you may live?’’
You stared at his hand…and shook your head.
“God’s human servant humbly cannot agree to this. I do not need your forever protection, angel. Please, as long as you find a place safe for my unborn child, I will do whatever is necessary, but I am not willing to fully take the hand of a stranger so soon after a betrayal.”
You felt a tinge of a smile at Jungkook’s…no the angel’s lips, reminiscent of the days in which you had once felt happiness.
“God has always given their promises carefully. Not many mortals have ever refused the divine help. Many have even dared to push the boundaries of such promises.”
You placed a gentle hand over your stomach.
“As long as my child is safe, to me that is all that matters. Please, angel, help me once to only fulfill security for my baby.”
“Then, take my hand now. I have never witnessed a human refuse the hand of an angel before. If a devout believer were to witness you, would you not be labelled as a sinner?” the angel’s voice was almost teasing, had the sound not been so dry and flat.
“Labelled with this damned red mark, I have been a sinner the day I arrived on this earth, angel. It seems to be in my lineage to be nothing more than a sinner.’’ You wryly spoke and reached out your hand, finally taking his. You glanced once more back at the garden, blackened by the shadowy darkness and stench of death.
As you left this wretched place, where you had found love and had been destroyed by love, where you had been pushed and grown from the feeble girl of the past, where you had made memories despite how brief its actuality had been, the statue of the girl began to crumble and the bouquet of white lilies in her hand began to wilt, and as dust and crumbled petals fell to the ground, they became stained once more in red.
A/n: It’s finally the end of the main story :’) As always, leave a comment or a detailed review if you enjoyed the story.
A special chapter from Yoongi’s perspective and an epilogue will be coming (reply with a 👑 if you aren’t on the taglist yet and want to be updated for those parts), and then Lineage will reach its final final conclusion.
Thank you, and lmk of any mistakes (I never edit sjsjsj)!
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‧R E A C T I O N S‧
Mafia!Yandere BTS REACTION: you’re scared ☾
BTS as Yanderes based on their zodiac natal chart ☽
Yandere!BTS reaction: you’re arguing and you snap ☾
Yandere! BTS reaction to you giving silent treatment ☾
Yandere! BTS reaction of their s/o being innocent/pure ☾
Yandere! BTS reaction to their s/o getting arrested ☾
Yandere! BTS reaction: you’re sick ☾
Yandere!BTS reactionL to Falling for You while Being in a Relationship
Yandere!BTS reaction: you have a stalker
yandere!BTS reaction: they’ve broken you ☾
S E O K J I N
M I N Y O O N G I
A box made out of glass
So we meet | tattoo!artist yoongi
Moon // a place for us to stay |yandere!royal yoongi //prob my fav
Ghost Love | Yoongi x reader x Jimin//kind of yandere
J U N G H O S E O K
Soft!Yandere Hoseok: he’s jealous of your friends.
Soft!Yandere Hoseok: he’s jealous of you and Taehyung
tell me when it’s over
K I M N A M J O O N
P A R K J I M I N
Soft!Yandere Jimin: he thinks you’re going to leave him
“Look me in the eyes, tell me you love me. Even if it’s fucking fake.”
Ghost Love | Yoongi x reader x Jimin//kind of yandere
K I M T A E H Y U N G
Yandere!Taehyung: You’ll never walk away
Yandere!Taehyung: Red is the perfect color on your skin
J E O N J E O N G G U K
Perfect yet so Cruel (Yandere!Jungkook!Demon October Series)
Soft!Yandere Jungkook: Broken
Secret Admirer masterlist
sure you get lonely (sometimes) | soft!mafia!yandere Jungkook
soft!yandere!Jungkook: he’s not obsessed with you // LITERALLY MY FAV FIGHT ME
yandere!Jungkook: you hit him during an argument
O T 7 S E R I E S
i’ll be running until the sun comes out | ot7!yandere x reader
Taste of Menace MASTERLIST
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Beastly Gods (M)
Pairings: Hybrid!Taehyung x Reader x ???
Word Count: 8K
Genre: Hybrid AU, Thriller, Drama
Warnings: Smut scene (Unprotected Sex, Exhibitionism, Voyeurism, Fingering, Cum Play), Blood, Captivity, Themes of Obsession and Ownership.
Summary: ‘Don’t leave the forest,’ a rule that you've been forced to follow since birth, but you are tired of living in this wooden cage. Out of desperation you cut a deal with Taehyung, who claims to be the only one who can get you out safely, even though he might be just as dangerous as the god you’re trying to escape.
AN: Not your typical Hybrid AU. At first I was going to release secondary love interest information, but then I thought, fuck it, you’ll guys will just have to wait until the end to see who watches over the forest *Cackles*. Story is dedicated to @lovelesscherry who reblogged a cabin room photo that started this whole mess of an idea.
A large oak stands in front of you as your best method to reach the sky, the only tool you have for your small calculated rebellion.
You’ve been taught since birth, ‘Don’t leave the forest. As long as you remain within the woods you are safe, but anything which goes out beyond the line of trees is his to take. ’ The lessons refer to the so called protector of your forest, a self proclaimed god, and the one you live to hate. Some have made attempts to leave over the years, to go past the tree line but none of them have returned. The people of your village believe them to be dead but you hold out hope that maybe they found something better.
You grab the first branch and haul yourself up. The first step is always the most difficult, with such a large distance between it and the forest floor. Going from there is only too easy, stepping from limb to limb as you make your rise to the top.
Three generations of your people have resided in this place. Some call it home but to you it is nothing more than a cage. The branches creating the bars which entrap you in this life. You wish to see the open sky unobscured by the reach of the trees, so everyday you make the climb to the highest tree top you can.
Those that had made previous attempts to escape left the forest perimeter on the ground, but you take your brief moment of freedom from up high. You delight in having found a weakness in his pen, one god surely would have difficulty watching all sides of the forest, why would he even bother to check the treetops? Up here you are safe, you are free. It may seem like a pointless rebellion but to you it’s everything, reaching beyond the branches has become your way of showing that you are not complacent.
On this climb you barely rise above the majority of the treeline. You yearn to go even higher but the next set of branches are too weak to support your weight. Settling in with your against the trunk you watch the birds soaring off in the distance, envying their wings and their freedom.
You’re only able to remain in your tree top few minutes each day, concerned that someone might find you up here. Those in the village believe you will bring the gods wrath upon them if you act out in any way. They have no wish to anger your keeper, fearing that your bloody history would play out once again...
In their effort to reach new scientific heights, your ancestors had brought on the downfall of their own human race. They thought to create a new species, one that was half human, half animal, with an intent to be used and to fill a variety of purposes. Little did your people know that they would revolt, a hybrid’s power could not be tamed, and they had no wish to be formed into a mould of a domesticated pet. The hybrids were so deeply ingrained in the lives of humans that it was only too easy for them to take control. They used all of the knowledge they had gathered and strength they had been breed to wield against their owners in a revolution.
The hybrids rose above their masters to take their place as gods. They took everything away that could be used against them, and divided your surviving race among their own. Your ancestors were sent to hide in the forest to live under the hybrids rule, their protection, while paying homage and give offerings to the new lords, and that is where your people have resided ever since.
When the divide first happened there were stories of these gods fighting each other for territory, trying to take humans from under another’s rule, or lay claim to land that was not their own. People say that they know each other’s weakness, that only gods can find a way to end the reign of another. But from what you know there has been no such question of your past gods’ or their descendants’ authority.
Once a week your village is expected to leave an offering at the edge of the forest. In exchange for the ‘protection’ given to your village you supply the beastly god with food. There’s no extravagant ceremony you simply leave the sack in the designated spot and leave. In the past you’ve been tempted to stay and see if you could witness the so-called-god, but he has never shown himself while you’re there.
Your walk to the edge is quiet, raising the hairs on the back of your neck. The usual sounds of the forest fail to reach this far with the only noise coming from the cracking of twigs beneath your feet. You are steps away from your intended location when your path becomes blocked, a massive feathered creature falling to the ground in in front of you.
In a panic you hide behind the nearest tree to observe the fallen beast. Your curiosity begs you to watch, outweighing the fear which orders you to flee.
Glossy black wings that could easily be twenty feet in span, sprout from a back of a male who currently lays face down in the dirt. The hybrid lets out a groan and a swear punching the ground on which he rests with a gloved fist. As he lifts his head you slide back to conceal yourself.
“Human?” He calls out to you. “I know your there, I can hear you breathing.”
You tremble and your back presses into the bark of the trunk. Your hand covering your mouth in a last ditch attempt to conceal yourself.
“I can still hear you.... I need your assistance.”
“I am to leave food nothing else, that’s the agreement.” You call out.
“Yes, you’re right, but I rather get out of here before the one who injured me comes to finish me off. I’ll make a deal with you if you assist me”
“Who injured you?” You asked with a quaking voice.
“A god who keeps you here, one who watches this forest.” His reply encourages you to poke out from behind the tree to view the beast. Could it be? Someone has finally come to challenge your gods rule?
His face is dirty and bruised but even that can not hide the sharpness to his facial features. His shirt is an unusual fashion, flowing down from over top of his shoulders and lacing just under the bottom of his wing. It appears to be intact with no wounds showing, but on his gloves you notice a dark stain, that of blood.
Wings splay out behind him, one fully extended but the other is curled and dragging on the ground slightly hidden from you. “I’m glad to see that I have your attention now.” A smirk crosses his face as he looks upon you with the same curiosity that you have for him.
“W-why are you here?”
“Property dispute.” He laughs as if it’s a joke, but it seems that immediately regrets his decision when a pained look crosses his face. His damaged wing shifts closer, allowing you to see several broken feathers at it’s crest along with the deep read stain of blood. “I need your help.”
“Why should I?” He might not be the god who has entrapped you here, but that doesn’t mean he is innocent either.
“You want to get out of this forest don’t you? I’m too injured to fly, I need you to hide me in the forest while I heal. Do this and I’ll take you out of here.”
He needs permission to set foot on the grounds of your forest, that was the deal struck when your race was confined, they have their space and you have yours. “How long before you can fly again?”
He looks at the damage to his wing carefully, “It’s difficult to say maybe a couple weeks, maybe month?”
“A month! You want me to hide you for a month?”
“I’ll need food and a place to rest as well. What’s one month when it will give you a life outside of this forest?”
You ponder his offer with a bite to your lip, the wings you have longed for have finally come to you, but unfortunately they are attached to... conditions. “When you’re healed, you promise to get me out of here?”
“When I can fly I promise you’ll never have to come back to these woods again.” He struggles to stand his wing weighing him down with him unable to lift it properly.
Emboldened by the guarantee of freedom you approach him carefully, ready to flee if he makes even the slightest aggressive move.
“Such a skittish little dove,” He remarks on your stance.
“That’s not my name,” You respond flatly.
“Oh then what is?” He pries, but you consider that information might be best to keep to yourself. He smiles, clearly seeing the conflict rise up in you, “No matter, you can call me Taehyung if you wish. We should get moving before he comes back. I may have injured him too but I don’t think it was as bad as my own state.”
“What do you need me to do?”
“Come here,” he prompts you to move closer with an outreached hand.
Taking your arm he places you at his side, “I can’t hold it up very easily myself.” His injured wing nudges at your back, “May I?” You nod looking hesitant with the weight of the wing unsure if you’ll be able to support it either.
With a groan he stretches it out, the bridge of the wing comes to rest on your shoulders, the soft feathers tickling at your neck. It’s not as heavy as you expect, but there’s a warmth to it as if you’re wrapped in a down blanket. Relief breaks across his face, “Thank you,” he whispers with a deep sigh.
“I live a far bit outside of the village, you should be fine in my cabin as long as you don’t take any excursions.”
“Yes Little Dove,” He gives you a wide boxy smile, an indication that he might not be taking you as seriously as you hoped.
“I mean it, if someone even catches a glimpse of your face let alone your wings they’ll know something’s not right.” Your people would be furious if they found out you invited one of them in. They may obey the hybrid’s laws but it’s out of fear, not respect.
Your progress is slow, but that allows you to ease back to your door under the cover of darkness. As soon as you step inside you draw the curtains closed and light a couple of lamps in the small living room. “Sit down, I’ll fetch something for your wound.” You press him onto the couch while you find your supplies
Your kit looks grim. Alcohol and bandages will have to suffice, your stock has run low and the salve has reached the bottom of the tin.
As you return to him you can see that he is having difficulty reaching the wound with its location on the crest of his wing just behind his shoulder. “I think I’ll need your assistance again.”
“I-I don’t, I’ve never looked after...” You know the wings of birds to be fragile and the thought of damaging it more worries you.
“I can direct you.”
The cut for the most part has clotted and it doesn’t appear too deep, but this spot must incur a lot of strain during flight, making it impossible for him to fly in such a state.
Taehyung takes your hand hovers it over the affected area. He looks back to direct your touch as you stand in front of where he sits. “You see the broken and crooked feathers?” You nod touching the very tip of one. “Those are going going to have to come out.”
“They’ll grow back and it’s just a couple.” There are maybe five or six at most that look to be in terrible shape, but that doesn’t make the thought of what you are about to do any less daunting. You grab the first by it’s base and look back to him to make sure. Taehyung gives you a nod to proceed. As the stem dislodges he grabs your waist, his head leans into you while he gasps.
“Sorry,” You mutter unsure of what else to say.
“No it’s fine keep going.”
With the next feather his other wing unfurls and beats angrily knocking a chair over in the process. A slight whimper escapes him drawing pity from you. You had expected his kind to be strong and without pain but here he is exhibiting a weakness.
“Almost done,” You whisper as his long fingers continue to hold you.
After pulling out the last, you step back from him, with a half dozen quills in your hand. You examine the black plumage carefully, admiring their beauty and the way they shine in the candle light.
You can feel Taehyung’s eyes on you, watching you as your fingers glide over the feathers. You blush offering them back to the winged man.
“You can keep them Little Dove,” he chuckles, “I have plenty.”
You smile, embarrassed by the fact that he had caught your interest in them. Soaking a cloth in the clear alcohol you move forward again, with the broken feathers out of the way you have a better view of the cut. You perch yourself carefully not hovering this time but kneeling next to him on the couch with one leg between his to get a closer look. There a bit of dirt from his fall, you can only hope that the alcohol will be enough to prevent it from getting infected. “This is going to hurt too,” you warn him.
“I doubt it will be worse than... fu-fuck!” His good wing curls round closing in as he pulls you to his chest in reaction to the pain. You are the one to gasp this time as his mouth nips down on your shoulder.
“Taehyung?” You make an attempt to pull his hands off but his grip digs in like a pair of talons latching to its prey. “Taehyung, that hurts! You have to let go, you have to let me finish.” He releases you slowly but you can still feel him winch with every touch of the cloth. Finding a fresh linen you question how you should secure it. It’s not like you can wrap it in place that would have to encompass the entire width of his wing and might damage some of his other feathers.
You take a look through your cupboards looking for anything that might function as an adhesive. Your eyes settle on a golden jar of honey, it’s a decent antiseptic and hopefully it should make the cloth stick too. With the flat of a spoon you spread it over the bandage and place it carefully on, you smile in success when it appears to be secure.
“Thank you Little Dove, I guess you humans have a few more uses than I thought,” He laughs.
Your face falls at his comment, remembering what he truly is. What his kind have done to your people. “Get some sleep, you’ll need it to heal.” You growl standing to make a swift exit to your room.
“Wait, how am I supposed to sleep with my wings on a couch?” He whines back looking confused by the change in your tone.
“Figure it out yourself, I’ve just reached the limit of my usefulness.” You throw back at him in anger, slamming your bedroom door shut behind you. He’s your ticket out of here, one month and your free, one month and you can escape this enclosed life and try to find something even greater. You look down to the feathers in your hand and set them on your side table, wishing that you could have your own and not have to rely on his.
Sleep does not come easy that night, every sound from the other room has you wondering what the beast might be up to, and whether you can actually trust him to keep his side of the bargain.
You rise with the sun peering in the large window of your bedroom. Carefully stepping out to your living room you find Taehyung sprawled out on the couch, cuddling one of the cushions while his injured wing lays flat, propped up by one of your chairs. On the stove fire you bring a pot of water to boil, using it to fill two bowls of oatmeal and a basin.
You try to wake him, but after calling his name and shaking his shoulder you find this task to be pointless. The bandage has to be changed before you leave, if he refuses to wake up beforehand he will within a minute or two after you start. You dip the rag into the basin of warm water and place it over the gauze patch melting the honey to allow for an easier removal.
You can see a sleepy smile creep onto Taehyung’s face, he abandons the pillow and allows his arms to trail over you instead. This all comes to a halt as you remove the bandage. His eyes fly open as a hiss greets you. “What the hell?”
“What? I tired to wake you, but I guess I can’t help you with that either.”
“Fuck,” He groans in pain, “I’m sorry okay? It was a stupid comment.”
“If you are going to stay here you either respect me as an equal, or I’ll throw you out of the cabin. I have to leave soon, so let me finish. I made you food, not sure if you’re able to eat it though.”
“I’m not picky, my kind can eat anything.”
You reapply the honey to a new linen square and dress the wound once again, as he takes the bowl of porridge.
After finishing you gather your cloak and boots that you discarded haphazardly the day before.
“Where are you going?” He looks up to you before taking another bite of his meal.
“I’m one of the foragers, I look for additional food that’s not grown on the smaller farms, mushrooms berries, nuts, whatever we can get our hands on.” You explain while tying a boot.
His eyes grow wide, “You shouldn't go out there it’s not safe for you.”
“Yeah well, your kind should have thought of that before you drove us into the second dark age.”
“That was for your safety too. It wasn’t just about our freedom, you humans have a way of destroying yourselves and everything around you, my ancestors were trying to protect what was left.”
“Then it should be perfectly fine now...” you goad him.
“Stay away from the edge of the forest,” He instructs. “And don’t climb any trees.”
“How did you...” You stop for a second stunned by his knowledge of your little secret.
“Please, just trust me.” Taehyung gives not further explanation, he only stares back at you with a distinct look of sincerity.
You wish you could question him more but you have to leave, or some of the other foragers might come to your cabin to find you.
You return that evening to find Taehyung wide eyed with worry. He smiles brightly at you but the stress and confinement has clearly left him agitated.
“Okay talk, you clearly know more than you let on.”
“I’m not sure what...”
“Don’t climb any trees?” You throw your cloak down on the chair beside you in frustration. You thought all day about the possibilities and the questions you need to ask of him, wasting no time before grilling him with your inquiries, “How do you know that I do that when no one else in this village does. Why are you really here?”
“I’ve seen you before,” Taehyung looks down at his feet while he exposes his truth. “When you were climbing. I had never seen a human do that before, you peaked my interest.”
“Really? That was why you came?”
“What can I say? My kind have a weakness for pretty things... and you’re little rebellion drew me in.” He looks back to you again with a side smile. “I wanted to come find you, maybe even take you from this place. Your god does not have your best interest at heart, or at least the type of freedom you desire.”
“What is he?”
“A winged creature the same as myself, a crow hybrid.”
“But today you said I wasn’t safe, what’s changed from all the days before?”
Taehyung takes a deep breath looking hesitant to share the next bit of information with you, “Rumour is that he’s looking for a mate, and has you in mind. I’m not the only one who saw you climbing. You look so very much at home in the trees, I can see why he chose you.”
You are beyond revolted by the thought, bile begins to rise in your throat, a panic sets in as you consider the imposing threat of a god’s affection. You sit down next to Taehyung cowering with you hands on your face, “But he can’t, he can’t take me. He made a pact with my people, he can’t even set foot in the forest unless we give permission.”
“No he can’t,” Taehyung removes your grip from yourself, and takes your chin in his own hands to ensure that you are focused on him, that you take in every word as cautionary advice. “Not unless you leave the forest with him, for your sake don’t leave my side. No matter what happens, no matter what tricks he plays or what he might do to persuade you, don’t leave with anyone else but me. If you step outside with him willingly you become his property. If that happens I can’t save you.”
“You were hurt before, do you really think we can leave if he is determined?”
“I do, I was caught off guard when he attacked. Let’s just say I have friends in high places who will prevent that from happening again.”
The weeks that follow are by no means unpleasant. Although the hybrid was arrogant at first he soon comes down to your level. While you tell him of your life here and your true name, he returns the favour of your honestly with tales of flight and what it feels like to soar through the sky.
You had no idea what to expect living with him, there some habits that of his you enjoy, and others that can be a little... frustrating. You once spent half an hour looking for your cloak only to find that Taehyung had stolen it to add to his bed. He apologized saying that it is a trait of his kind. Little things of yours still go missing though, most are found in the same place, wrapped within the nest of blankets that he has created on the couch, but there must be a half dozen objects which you’ve never managed to track down again. As an apology for taking your belongings he leaves feathers on your pillow. A smile crosses your face each time as you add them to the collection on your bedside table. This soft ink-black bouquet has become the focal point of your room, one from which you cannot draw your eyes away, a lure that leads your thoughts back to Taehyung even after you leave him for the night.
To your delight his wing is healing rapidly, everyday you feel one step closer to freedom. He couldn’t have come at a better time with the pressures from your village. They have been telling you that it’s time to settle down, to stop living with your head in the clouds, and start thinking about the future of this little town and how you can contribute. But every time they bring up the possibility of a match your mind drifts to Taehyung.
You haven’t even escaped with him yet but when you’re with him you feel unrestrained. How he rather observe your actions and listen to your thoughts rather than criticize them like those in your village. He is the only one to have ever give you a choice in what you wanted, and now because of that you find yourself longing for him.
“You shouldn’t go out there today Little Dove,”
“I won’t go near the edge of the forest.”
“No it’s not just that. There’s a storm coming.” You notice the slight shiver to his skin as he says those words. The feathers of his wings ruffle and puff out, he looks as if his instinct is telling him to flee.
You begin to worry but not for the same reasons, a winter storm this early could be devastating to the food collection.
“I have to, if there’s is a storm on the way we need to gather everything we can before it’s covered in snow. I’ll keep an eye out and come back before it hits.”
You know that Taehyung would want you to stay close but in all good conscience you can’t. Instead you push yourself even further into the depths of the forest, separating from the rest of the party. You reach areas to forage that you usually don’t use until later in the season. With winter on it’s the way sooner than expected you can’t afford to miss this opportunity to gather all you can.
It was a stupid thing to do you realize on your trek back, you’re not even a quarter of the way home when the freezing rain begins to pelt your cloak. Your hands grow painfully numb from the cold lashing against your skin. An hour later and you are still haven’t returned, your clothes are thoroughly soaked with parts of the cloth freezing in the frigid air.
The day goes from bad to worse when the snow starts, obscuring your vision as it falls from the sky. You can only pray that you are heading in the right direction, as your feet move forward. The world completely awash by the flurry around you.
Your progress slows as you step into the drifts. The icy chill penetrates deep into your legs, leaving you barely able to move, and your mind unwilling to focus on anything other than the warmth you crave. Your sight grows fuzzy, leaving you to question it as you catch glimpses of what you desire, black feathers, littering the ground and the path in front of you. You look to the sky but are only meet with the blanket of white that continues to fall. You can’t be sure if you are just seeing things, that maybe your mind has created a delusion of hope to lead you on. But you follow the trail of feathers regardless, wanting so badly to be embraced by the warm wings you know so well.
Between the gusts of wind you can almost here whispers of the name he has given you, ‘Little Dove.’ You follow the soft voice in a trance desperate to leave this frozen place by any means necessary.
It’s not until you hear shouting behind you that you are shaken from your daze.
“No Little Dove, that’s the wrong way!” Taehyung's voice and arm close in around you blocking out everything else. He shrouds you with a cloak which he too hides beneath. His wings forming a large mound of a back but still hidden from view.
He picks you up and turns back in the direction from which he came. Trudging through the snow drifts that had made you stumble.
Once you reach the cabin he pulls off your cloak and sets you in front of the glowing fire in your bedroom. Proceeding to layer it with log after log until it’s as tall as the stove will allow. Every candle and lamp in the room is lit by his hand. The warmth is slow to hit while your clothes are still frozen. Pulling a blanket from your bed you strip beneath leaving your undergarments on wrapped beneath the heavy fibres.
Taehyung to begins to undress too although modesty does not seem to be a concern of his. Exposing everything to the air except what lies beneath his underwear. He takes a seat next to you on the floor in front of the fire. “You promised you would be back in time. What were you thinking? He almost had you.”
“I lost track of time, when the storm set in I couldn’t see.” Your teeth chatter as you try to absorb the heat.
“You’re lucky I came to find you.”
Taehyung stretches out his wings behind you shaking them slightly to dislodge the moisture that seeped in through his cloak.
You turn to face one of the wings letting your arm reach up from beneath the blanket. Your fingers brush through his damp feathers, grooming them back into place. There’s a low vibration at the back of his throat as his eyes close.
“Why did you? You’re almost healed you could probably manage flight on your own. It would be easier for you to escape that way.” You pause with your fingers buried deep in down coat of his wing as you look up to his content face.
“Please don’t stop,” he begs looking down to place his hand on yours, urging you to keep going. “I told you I came to find you, I gave you my word. Do you think that I wish to lose you to someone else? Or that I would leave you to escape out there alone?”
Taehyung takes a deep breath causing his wings to shudder beneath your touch, “Little Dove, I’m sorry I should have told you sooner but the freedom which you were looking for, it does not exist for humans. Not outside of these confined spaces. Those who are found unaccompanied are either killed or taken to maintain control. I question taking you out there without you knowing that it truly is safer in here. I would rather rip these wings off than expose you to those who reside out there. I wish I could live with you in this cage forever, with you and you alone.”
It’s as the village has always told you, but even now knowing the definite truth you still find yourself wishing to leave, “Please keep your promise, I don’t care about the consequences anymore I just need to leave this forest.”
“I won’t break it. I just need to make you aware of what you might see out there. It’s a life of basic instinct, one that you won’t be able to survive alone. If you want to exist in safety you’ll be forced to stay by my side. Do you really think you can handle that Little Dove?” His deep voice echoes through you as his hands trail your back. “What would your people say if they saw you with a beast like me?”
“I don’t care. They are set in their ways with their feet rooted to the ground, they are part of this cage. I’ve never wanted to leave as much as I do now, I want to leave here with you, I want to stay with you.”
Your hand moves from his wing to touch his cheek, when you hesitate an inch from his face he leans in to meet your grasp. His lips graze the skin of your palm as he looks at you through narrowed eyes. It’s as if your touch has woken a demon inside of him, one who demands your surrender, which you are only too glad to give. He rips the blanket from your shoulders and crashes into your chest. His mouth finds yours and wastes no time before claiming the warmth behind your lips.
Taehyung rises up tugging you off the floor and into his arms, completely encasing you with the walls his wings as you stand against him. Feeling his feathers caress the bareness of your back as you are pressed to his chest sends shivers through you. His mouth nips at your neck with sharp bites. Your feel like the pain should bother you but you find yourself wanting more, more of him, more of this.
You are tired of this enclosure that you live in. How everyone considers the fact that they are being watched, causing them to act too good, too pure, and never giving into what they truly desire. Is it so bad to want feel everything at the hands of the man currently holding you?
“I long for the day where I can leave with you, and tell everyone that you’re mine. I want to show them how I can make you feel.” His hand trails to your chest, reaching behind to unlatch you bra, “The blush rising to your skin,” His hands continue downwards falling next under the band of your underwear pushing them down until they fall to the floor, “the dampness between your legs,” You fold into him as his fingers touch the arousal to which he was just referring, “The look on your face as I take you. Would you like that? To show your god that you belong to me?”
You smile at the thought, your little rebellion becoming far more than climbing trees, “More than anything.”
Taehyung growls with pleasure. “Little Dove.” He turns you around and guides his shaft inside you from behind as your legs wobble on the floor. His hand reaches down to rub the swollen numb at your crest. He stays like that for a moment, no movement no thrusting, just letting you get used to the girth between your legs. Your body begins to overheat, desperate with a wish for him to continue.
“Do you truly want to show him how I fuck you, how you enjoy taking my cock?”
“Yes.” You whisper back only able to answer with a single word while the rest of you voice is lost in a moan.
“As you wish.” Taehyung unfurls his wings and pins you against the large window of your room. A loud cry leaves you from the shock of the cool glass pressing against you. “If he’s watching, let’s give him a show,” He growls in your ear.
The exposure is overwhelming, the window pane is freezing against your sensitive chest, the thought that someone might see you is terrifying, but at the same time you can feel the arousal drip down your thighs as he shoves you against the glass with each thrust. His hands come to find yours against the window and cling to them. While your breath leaves a wave of condensation against the pane.
“Is this okay Little Dove? Do you like how I have you splayed out for all to see?” You nod giving him a whimper as he thrusts once again. “It’s such a pretty sight.” Taehyung whispers into your ear and proceeds to nip at your lobe.
He pulls out and flips you around forcing your back against the glass. Taehyung wraps your arms around his neck before taking one your thighs in each hand. He lifts you up and glides back in. “Fuck Little Dove, if I had known you would be this soft and warm I would have come to you sooner.”
His pace is relentless as he continues to swell inside you. Pressing even further against you, he helps you to lock your legs around his back. After the coolness of the glass, feeling the warmth of his chest against yours is so soothing that the tightness inside you starts to unravel. You clench down causing him to gasp and swear as you come on his cock. You quake in his arms unable to hang on as the pleasure runs through you.
“Tae-Taehyung...” You shudder in his hands your head drooping to your arm on the crook of his neck.
“That’s it, sing for me Little Dove.” He forces your head back and snaps down on your neck with his teeth. As you unleash another moan for him, you can feel his warmth spill inside you. He remains within while his lips begin to stroke across your skin, giving a soft caress to the area he just assaulted with his teeth. The rise and fall of his chest slows and matches yours as you both catch your breath.
He lowers you both down to the floor on the discarded blanket in front of the window with you resting on top of him. You make an attempt to reach for a cloth to clean up the cum seeping from you, when Taehyung stops you by folding over his wings to entrap you against him.
“No you don’t, you’re staying right here.”
You blush as you try to explain the reasoning behind your actions, “I’m going to drip all over you...”
“Good,” He reaches around your back, arching himself forward to lay his fingers against your swollen folds. “Why would I want to waste this?” You twitch as the tips run along you slit. “You are mine Little Dove and this proves it.” His index slides inside, drawing a whine from the sensation and twitch at his touch. His other arm wraps around your waist keeping you locked against him as he adds another finger to the first. You continue to writhe against him but he does not relent.
Your hands grip his chest as you find yourself chasing that release once again. Taehyung smiles down at you as you give into him for a second time. His wings draw even closer teasing your back with light touches as his fingers become more ruthless. Your walls close in and throb around his digits as the orgasm tears through you.
When his fingers pull out you are left with a breathless sigh. He draws his damp tips across your ass and lower back, as his mutters down to you with a smirk. “If you try to clean up again, I promise to paint you with even more of your cum and my own, is that understood?”
You relax against him nodding with a grin, you look to the cloth and consider rebelling for a third time before you fall asleep.
The next morning you wake still cocooned in Taehyung’s wings. The warmth of the sun absorbed in his feather is makes it a cozy spot. You poke your head out to look through the window, finding the forest bright with the light reflecting off the fresh snow and ice layered on the bark.
But as you look further up in the trees you still, unable to believe the sight. Resting on a branch you find a creature with an enormous black wings, a reach even farther than Taehyung’s mounted behind a pair of broad shoulders. The face peering down could easily be that of god, even if it is not truly divine.
In a panic you shake Taehyung while keeping your eyes on the beast, “Taehyung wake up.”
“Mmm, but you’re so warm Little Dove.”
“H-he’s out there...”
Taehyung shoots up to glance out the window, a look of disdain rooting into his expression as glares up. “Time’s up, we have to go,” He mutters pressing the blanket on to you for cover as you both get up.
“How is he even in the forest? He has no right.”
“You’re laws have holes, he has not set foot on the forest grounds, he has broken no rules by being there. This is why I asked you not to climb the trees.”
You closed the curtains and throw on your nearest outfit, before asking the most important question. “Are you healed enough to fly?”
“I can get you out of here, I can get you to safety, I promise. We have to get to the edge of the forest though, I need more room though can’t take off and fly with you through the trees they’re too narrow.”
You quickly pack small satchel with a few essentials. Your eyes linger on the stray feathers on your table before packing those too. They’ve become so valuable to you, you can’t bear the the thought of leaving them behind.
You both rush out the back door running through the trees heading south to the nearest break in the woods. A shadow looming overhead as you run.
Taehyung stops and looks up as your pursuer does the same, “Keep going I’ll take care of him, wait for me near the edge.”
“Taehyung...” You begin argue back.
“I’ll be fine, just remember what I said.”
Before you can give him another word he runs back towards the god, taking to the trees with one swift leap.
The snow is still deep and uneven in parts slowing your exit, so when the break in the forest appears in front of you, you feel a deep relief. Your freedom is almost here you are so close to touching it. You thought that your wait might be over as a set of black wings lower in front of you, but they are not Taehyung's, nor do they belong to the god who peered down at you from the trees.
The winged man offers you a hand, he puts on a friendly face with a bright smile. “You need to come with me.”
You back away knowing what will happen if you do.
Sensing your fear he urges your hand to come to his once again, “I know Taehyung, I’ll bring him to you once your safe.”
He may know Taehyung’s name but you still can’t trust him, “I’m not leaving with you, I know how your games work.”
“Oh Little Dove, you have no idea...” A wicked smile appears on his face, as he witnesses the rise in confusion with the use of your nickname.
Taehyung comes up from behind pulling you into his arms. “Nice try Hoseok, did you make a deal with Seokjin to distract me?”
“It was worth a shot.” Hoseok’s face falls to bitterness as he looks to the man holding you.
Taehyung looks ready to pounce upon this hybrid too, but Just as Taehyung fell on the day that you meet him another pair of wings darts down from this sky. Although this decent appears to be more calculated, taking down the beast called Hoseok.
“Yoongi...” Taehyung calls out stepping forward to help him.
“Go! I’ve got him.” The hybrid shouts pinning the other beneath him.
Taehyung turns to you, “If you want to leave with me, we have to go now.”
He holds out his long slender fingers, to take yours. You hesitate but follow through, knowing that you would give anything to escape the wooden cage behind you.
The second your hand touches his and you step over the line he swoops you up into his arms. Seeing the full span of his wings takes your breath away. He holds you close as he lifts from the ground, the smile on your face grows as you reach the unobstructed blue sky, leaving the forest behind. But your joy is short lived for you don’t even travel out of view of the forest before his pace slows.
“Your wing, is it okay?”
“Of course Little Dove,” you turn your head away from the sky to the direction in which you are heading, finding a house built high on the branches of a tree. He sets you down on the balcony of the wooden house and presses you inside with a soft kiss to you check. “Welcome home...”
You look around you surroundings and notice a few of your missing belongings scattered about, from clothes, to jewellery that had been passed down to you, as well as one of your favourite books. You take one of your shirts in hand as you question him, “What do you mean home? Why are we still so close...” Your heart stops as his smile grows. “No, you said you’d keep me safe...”
“My nest is safe, where it always has been, and always will be watching over the forest.”
The god you’ve always hated... the one you’ve always tried to rebel against... the one who was looking for a mate. Stands in front of you with a look of victory etched into his face.
“You didn’t belong in there, your more like my kind than human. I could see it in your eyes, how you craved the open sky. I knew from the first time I saw you in that tree you would make the perfect addition to our nest, how pretty you would look woven into our midst.”
The three hybrids you had just seen in the woods descend upon the house... accompanied by three more. As they enter you back yourself into a corner, trying to keep your eyes on every face, every winged enemy that stands in front of you. Not just one god, but seven.
Taehyung follows you making sure not leaving your side, “My brothers and I, just like the crows we descend from we stay together. When we found you we made a deal, whoever took you from the forest by their hand, whoever could convince you to leave would take control of the flock..and you. I was given the first attempt.”
“Your injury, the fighting between you, it was all fake. You tricked me?”
“Oh the injury was real, Jungkook was not happy that he would have to wait. As I said we are beasts, he tried to stop me from meeting you. Just as my other brothers fought me to take their chance and leave with you.
“Last night, in the storm?”
“Jimin,” Taehyung glares over to the shortest male who looks to you with a smirk, “Wanted to see if he could tempt you before I could.”
“You should have continued to follow my voice Little Dove, you were so close. I would have kept you warm.” Jimin coos.
You stunned to silence you look down to the shirt in your hands, gripping in until your knuckles turn white, fear and anger coursing through you. Taehyung follows you sight, “Forgive me, I traded those things to keep my brothers complacent, to buy more time with you. They were so happy when you accepted their feathers in return, they’ll be even happier to know that you kept them with you.”
You immediately drop the bag that they are contained in, overwhelmed with the feeling that you might be sick.The tallest brother reaches out to you with concern on his face, but the thought of him touching leads you to pull back and him to fall away.
“Don’t worry Little Dove, Namjoon won’t hurt you, none of them will. They’ve dreamt of you just as much as I. They were so thankful for the display you gave last night they could wait no longer to have you too.” Taehyung takes your upper arm and tugs you towards him placing his lips on your neck in a soft kiss.
“Taehyung please, stop. I can’t... I don’t want this.” You beg in tears, trying to pull away.
He holds firm and brushing the dampness from your face, “Nothing has changed between us, I can still give you the sky. I didn’t want to frighten you, can you honestly say that you would have given me a chance if you had known the truth?”
“No, and I still wouldn’t!” You curse your stupidity, letting your desire for freedom blind you from the truth. You leapt from your cage, and landed straight into their nest. A nest high in a tree with no low branches for escape.
“You left off your own accord, you took my hand willingly. Resist if you wish, if it will make you content.” Taehyung smiles in no way dissuaded but your tone, he turns to hold you from behind allowing his brothers to look upon you while he traps you with an arm around you waist. A low whisper from him reaches your ear and seize your soul, “But you should know by now, you can’t climb away Little Dove, every rebellion only brings you closer to me.”
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Summary: You begin an affair with your teacher but Yoongi is not content to only have you in secret. He wants to have all of you, wants to infiltrate every part of you so you’d be bound to him forever and Yoongi knows exactly what he needs to do.
Pairing: Fem! Reader x Yandere Min Yoongi ft. Jeon Jungkook
Word Count: 6.9K
Warnings: murder, non con (stealthing), manipulation, troubled OC, explicit smut (dom! yoongi, exhibitionism, multiple orgasms, squirting, breeding kink, cockwarming, unprotected sex), mentions of drugging, yandere behaviour
For this request:
A/N: happy yoongi day! i’m a little late but huge thank you to @babbii for letting me use the idea that inspired this fic! don’t click on it if you don’t want spoilers! with that being said, i hope you enjoy! thank you!
The sun was a daisy, encircled by a blossom of clouds that sailed peacefully in the blue sky. The black and yellow fuzz of bees danced before your eyes and buzzed within your ears, upon the flowers bejewelled by morning dew. From your view of the school garden, daisies popped up everywhere. Many of them trampled upon and violently ripped out of the ground, no longer within the sun’s embrace.
They were deemed inferior as flowers despite being as pure as their white petals, despite us all being children of the earth and the sun shining upon us all. Akin to mockingbirds, they simply existed and sang with the wind which is why their murder was such a sin. They were innocent yet innocence can easily be tainted by lies to which all of us were born to suffer and die.
The sigh which slipped from your lips was carried away by the breeze. Sunlight spilled through the trees, leaves raining upon the ground, and your desk was warm wherever the light touched.
Your textbook laid open before you but the sun’s rays did not enlighten the sentences within it for your eyes. Your mind could not wrap around the paragraphs of information which appeared like unsurmountable walls you could never climb over. Hence, it was no surprise that you couldn’t even look Mr Min in the eye when he announced that he’d return everybody’s test papers.
Your gaze was downcast, hands curled into fists on top of your skirt, as he walked down your aisle of desks. Each step of his leather shoes echoed within your ears as you waited with bated breath. The warmth of his spicy cologne tickled your nostrils as he came nearer, beckoning you to concentrate on his every movement.
His shadow loomed on the ground, looking like it could swallow you whole, as he stopped by each desk and sliced off the top of the mountain of papers in his hold. His crisp white shirt appeared pristine like his marble-like skin, cold to the touch like his heart. You had never seen what happiness looked like on Min Yoongi. He never spoke of anything beyond classwork, only moving his lips to teach and never to smile. Mr Min did not like wasting his breath or having to repeat himself twice in which you were too intimidated to seek for his help and your grades were the price.
His leather shoes came to a stop at your desk. Your eyes landed upon the Swiss watch that encircled his wrist and the paper which he held out to you.
You lowered your head and murmured, “Thank you, sir,” as you took hold of it. Your fingers brushed with his as you did and your eyes widened upon seeing his bitten nails. They were uneven and frayed like the jagged pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, similar to your own.
You had the bad habit of gnawing upon your nails, pressing down on your frazzled, frayed nerves with your teeth through the shell-pink. Although all it did was make your nails recede further into your bones. Like your toes digging into the sand as you faced the sunset over the ocean, the wave of the water never arriving, no matter how much you wanted it to sweep you away into darkness.
There seemed to be a mutual understanding as his fingertips brushed over the art of your self-destruction. Your heart fluttered at the warmth that his skin surprisingly exuded and your paper trembled along with it in your grip. You gave him a nod of gratitude but strangely, even when the paper was in your grasp, Mr Min did not move an inch. You wondered what he was waiting for as your eyes travelled to the corner of the page.
You had failed.
A blotch of grey appeared on the paper as your disappointment bled through it. Hot tears spilled uncontrollably down your cheeks as you stifled your cries with your fist. It clenched in pain like your heart, the weight of your family’s expectations making it sink to the pit of your stomach.
When the skies descended into granite grey, you scrawled equations in graphite against a white sea of papers until night turned into day. But all you had seemed to learn was the fact that you’d never be good enough. You were useless like your family had said and no matter how hard you had tried, effort did not equal results. You wondered why you even tried at all.
You wanted to toss the test paper out of the window, set it on fire until the paper crackled like blazing scarlet flowers. Yet, you weren’t brave enough. Merely somebody who allowed others to walk all over them, spineless like the corpses of crushed daisies in the school garden.
However, your attention was pulled to the movement of Mr Min’s hand as it slipped into his pocket and slid out to place a neatly folded, silk handkerchief on your desk. It rested upon your book, one that did not belong on the syllabus, because you loved to read.
His fingers seemed to linger upon the title and your eyes glanced around your class, grateful that nobody’s eyes laid upon your tear-stained face. You sat at the back of the class and was the last student that Mr Min had came to. Your eyes shined as you looked at his face.
His expression remained unreadable but emotions seemed to stir within him, dark eyes glimmering with something that was not indifference. You wondered if he felt sorry for you, because your abysmal grades would never land you a place in university. You were to be stuck in the gutter forever where the only stars you’d see would be the sunny cores of withered daisies.
You grasped onto the handkerchief, nail tracing the butterfly stitched upon it, as Mr Min returned to the front of the class.
At lunch, you were surrounded by three white walls and the grey door of the toilet cubicle as you ate a sandwich.
You were a loner, tethered to no friend or lover, and treated like an outsider. Falling behind the other students, you were the mouse in an endless game of catch up and was just as timid as one. Your safe haven was the school garden, which students never visited, and where your only friend resided. A stray cat that lived in a cardboard box, strangely always accompanied by a bowl of fresh tuna every time you visited it after school.
The afternoon rays of sun would embrace you, illuminating the baby hairs on your skin, as you sat by the cat and did your homework or have your nose buried in a book. You were surrounded by fluttering daisies. They were your favourite flowers although they were considered as weeds. They were neglected and abandoned because they sprouted everywhere but you admired their strength. It brought to your mind, the bittersweet myth of gods sprinkling daisies upon the graves of dead children to comfort their grieving parents, in which you felt like school was a place that killed one’s spirit.
You delayed going home as much as you could because when the sun sets, warmth did not greet you at your doorstep, but only the cold sympathy of the moon as it watched you through the darkness.
You lived with your family but you were plagued by loneliness. You felt like you were surrounded by a sea of people and if you drowned, nobody would even hear you. But what scared you the most was you not even being able to hear yourself. Every day, your family’s arguments spilled through the thin walls and poisoned your mind.
In such a toxic environment, you could never grow, could never bloom. You locked yourself up inside your room and gazed at the gently indifferent moon in the sky, hand reaching out so your palm would be flooded with moonlight. You blocked out their voices inside your head, all thoughts that filled you with dread. The last thing you wanted was to feel.
Hence, you’d run your hand through the blades of grass and breathe in the fragrance of dreamy blooms, taking these moments for yourself when you could.
However, on this particular day, droplets of rain serenaded from the rooftops. The rain poured down in torrents from the grey and gloomy sky and you quivered, wet and cold, as you checked if the cat was alright.
“What are you doing here?”
At first, you flinched at the sound of another person but when you recognised his voice, you turned around.
Mr Min loomed over you whilst he held an black umbrella over his head. You belatedly realised that he was shielding you from the rain, as it no longer dripped onto your clothes. The canopy of black was the shelter you shared with him as your gazes locked.
Droplets of rain soaked your lashes as you stared at him and even in the storm, all you could see was him, as he lowered his hand to gently brush your wet hair away from your face. You shivered despite the overwhelming warmth of his touch, his fingers lingering on the shell of your ear like a soft caress.
Your teacher’s eyes darkened. “Did you not hear my question?”
His lips appeared pale, despite the black turtleneck that hugged his neck and the woollen coat that reached him knee-length. You wondered how you looked like, soaked to the bone in your thin uniform shirt, lily-white and clinging to your skin like petals. You remembered that you had chosen to wear a black bra that morning. The straps of it dug painfully into your shoulders, as Yoongi impatiently expected an answer from your lips, which his eyes rested upon like yours had with his.
You swallowed. “I’m here for this stray cat, sir.”
Yoongi inhaled a breath. “Why?”
“Because...I was scared that it’d be affected by the rain.”
A sigh escaped from his lips, making you curl inwards.
Slowly, he bent down so you were face to face to him. Your eyes traced the soft creases of his eyes, lined by pretty lashes. His gaze was tender as his palm cupped your face, thumb caressing the apple of your cheek as he smiled softly.
Yoongi shook his head fondly. “You just have to make others worry for you, don’t you?”
Your heart thundered inside your chest. Flustered, you quickly moved your head from side to side and the sound of his chuckle was a melody in your ears against the thudding rain. He pulled your hand into his, his fingertips brushing over your bitten nails and knuckles soothingly.
His black umbrella served as a cave, a sanctuary in the storm. You saw your reflection in his gaze and the way it twinkled like stars. You did not protest when he pulled you against him, wrapping you up in his coat, making you feel like a kitten surrounded by the walls of his heart as you felt it beat against your chest.
He murmured, “I’ll drive you home.”
You shook your head, tucked right under his chin. “I don’t want to go home like this.”
“You can come over to my place and shower. I’ll get you into some dry clothes, okay?”
Weakly, you said, “I-I don’t want to be a bother.”
Yoongi gripped your chin, his thumb brushing over your lip.
His eyes were dark and heavy on yours as he whispered against your lips, “You could never be a bother, darling.”
He brought his soft, warm lips to your forehead and the kiss he planted there made something bloom inside you. Butterflies fluttering in your stomach, flowers unfurling within your ribs. You soaked up his warmth as he beamed, rays of light spreading into every part of you.
“I want to,” he crooned, “Please.”
The gentleness of his voice thrummed your heartstrings until your heart seemed to only beat for him.
You whispered shyly, “O-Okay.”
Even if his lips were to not move, you saw the smile in his eyes and the salve of his husky voice as he murmured, “Good girl.”
Those two words – they made you weak in the knees. It filled you with euphoria, the kind that was laced with validation and praise. You wanted to always be good, wanted to always see that special, intimate smile that he only shared with you. You felt the weight of his palm, hot, on the tail of your spine as he guided you into his car, instructing you to watch your head and you obeyed. You watched him silently as he did your seatbelt for you and accepted his coat that he laid over your wet body like a blanket, melting as he stared at you for a moment before he finally breathed, “You’re so adorable.”
He drove you to his place, sharing that he could help you with your grades. You admired his side-profile, quickly looking away whenever he’d meet your gaze and he’d chuckle. He placed his hand on yours, never letting it go, even as he led you into his home.
In front of his bathroom mirror, you felt the way his eyes followed your quivering fingers as you tentatively unbuttoned your shirt. You began at the bottom, revealing your stomach inch by inch as your blouse spilled open and stopped right before he’d see the swell of your breasts.
“Let me help you.”
Your breath hitched when he pressed himself up against your back. You felt his warmth melt your cold hands as he took hold of them. Your heart thumped like a rabbit in your chest when his fingers replaced yours, undoing you slowly, eyes growing darker at every strip of skin revealed. You shivered as his fingers brushed your chest, lingering upon your breasts while he breathed hotly into the crook of your neck.
Your eyes fluttered shut when his lips pressed against your nape. He spun you around in his arms, pushing up against the ceramic sink as he asked you lowly, “Do you want this?”
You ached for him. Every glance, every word and his every touch was addictive and you were merely an addict. You nodded, pulled by the attraction you felt for your quiet, older teacher, long before you had known the radiance of his smile.
Yoongi exhaled deeply and you wondered if he did not want you. But his lips traced the map of veins on your wrists, kissed his way up to your shoulder, slid his soft lips over your collarbone before coming home, tongue slipping inside your mouth so you can taste how much he craved you.
He grabbed your hand and brought your damaged fingertips to his lips, sucking on each one. You moaned quietly, as he also brought his hand to your parted lips. His bitten nails traced the seam of your mouth and tugged on your bottom lip before slipping it inside. He watched breathlessly as you mimicked him, tongue swirling around each of his digits before they pushed in deeper, threatening to make your gag on his fingers.
“With your words, sweetheart.”
“Y-Yes,” you drawled with his fingers deep inside your throat.
He pulled them out of you. The noise of him unzipping your skirt, and watching it drop to your ankles had you dizzy. His hand dived into your cotton panties, and you felt the wetness of your saliva brushing against your folds before he pushed his calloused fingers into your heat.
You latched onto him, nails sinking into his back as he fucked you open with his fingers, like you latched onto his every word. You craved for his praise, like the way you craved for the heat of his cock as it pressed up against your entrance. He filled you up good, stretched you out obscenely, reaching into you so deep as he slammed his fat cock into your pussy. You felt him inside your throat, felt him against your cervix with each toe-curling, mind-blowing thrust.
It burned when he hastily pulled out of your virgin pussy. Yoongi roughly turned you around and revelled in the yelp that escaped your lips as he landed a spank on your ass. He spread your asscheeks apart and spat, a glob of his saliva dripping down to your pussy and trickling in between your folds.
You whined as his fingers slapped your cunt over and over again, until it was puffy and hot against his palm. You shuddered as his hand wrapped around your neck whilst the other crept to your clit, furiously rubbing it from side to side until you saw hot white at the edges of your vision like it was salvation.
Yoongi yanked on your hair, forcing you to see the pleasure that overcame your features. Your eyes glazed and lips swollen like his own personal whore. But you couldn’t keep them open, not when four of his fingers pushed inside your pussy and began fingerfucking you with earnest.
You felt him reach into you knuckles-deep, jabbing right into your sweet spot over and over again while you were slicking down his wrist. You screamed as he pushed you over the edge a second time. Yoongi quickly removed his fingers, watching hot spurts of liquid shoot out of your pussy as your thighs quivered like crazy. You would’ve collapsed, if not for Yoongi holding you up, hand squeezing your breast on the left side of your chest where your heart raced.
You made a mess all over his bathroom tiles but Yoongi didn’t mind. He simply sank back inside you with a deepthroated groan and your pussy accepted him like you were made for him.
He began pounding you from behind, your cheek pressed against the mirror, dotting it with your tears. He fucked you so good, and he praised you for how pretty you looked while you cried. Yoongi growled hotly into your ear, “You’re such a good girl for me. So fucking tight and wet,” and you whimpered.
“Yeah?” Yoongi cooed whilst his balls smacked right against your sensitive clit with every thrust, “You like it when I call you my good girl? You like being good for me?”
You cried out, “Y-Yes!”
He pressed his lips into your hair and murmured, “Hm, you squeeze me so good, baby. This your first time taking cock?”
Flustered, you nodded to which Yoongi’s balls tightened. You mewled as you felt his cock throb too, making it feel even bigger inside you. Drool coated your chin as you babbled, “Y-Yes, sir!”
“Fuck,” Yoongi growled, “Every time you call me that, I get so fucking hard, baby. Can’t even concentrate on teaching shit when all I want to do is bend my favourite student over and fuck her hard.”
Your heart fluttered with hope as you moaned, “A-Am I your favourite student, s-sir?”
“Since day one, baby. I’m always watching you, know how good and precious you are – knew how fucking tight this cunt would be and I was right. This is your reward for being such a good girl, baby,” Yoongi grunted. His hips furiously rammed into your ass, your unforgivingly tight cunt pulling him into you with each stroke. “You take me so fucking well. God, I want to breed you.”
His fingers pinched your hard nipple as he rasped, “Want to see milk coming out of these pretty tits.”
His hand then dropped lower to slither in between your legs and harshly rub your clit. In combination with his cock moving even faster and harder inside you, it was too much, you screamed his name as you came once more. Your walls violently convulsed around his length whilst he continued to fuck you relentlessly through it. You collapsed to the floor and he followed.
He positioned you on your hands and knees in your dirty pool of release. You panted for air but he didn’t care as he quickly entered you again and fucked you for his own relief. His hands delicately caressed your hipbones, his lips tenderly planting kisses along your spine despite the fact that he caged your thighs together with his own to jackhammer into your battered cunt.
He pinned your wrists to the ground, his teeth scraping over your scalp as he breathed you in. Your fingers could hardly twitch, your body moving back and forth like a ragdoll with the power of his thrusts.
Before you knew it, you fainted.
When you came to, Yoongi was sitting beside you, on the edge of a king-sized bed. You presumed that you were in his bedroom and the mint-scented bedsheets were his own. His gaze was as soft as the pillow underneath your head as his lips curled upwards before he dropped a kiss onto your forehead.
You had felt sore all over in which Yoongi’s hand had massaged your inner thighs. However, it did not take long for him to duck down and take your clit into his mouth whilst you gazed hazily into his feline eyes.
Thus, your affair with your teacher began. He was ten years older than you but with him, you felt understood. The two of you connected in more ways than one, fitting together perfectly like the two imperfect pieces of a jigsaw. His house became a sanctuary for you, where you’d always visit after school. But you learnt that home was not a place, but a person, as you felt safe even as his cock was pummelling into you inside a toilet stall at lunchtime.
You learnt that your lover was bold. Yoongi was not afraid to bend down next to your desk and run his hand up your thigh whilst he read a passage from a textbook to the class and making you cum just like that.
He’d allow you to sit on his lap whilst he marked test papers – with his cock nestled deep inside you. He’d order you to stay still but you’d mewl like a feverish, sex kitten – rolling your hips in a slow grind so you could feel every inch of him. As a result, you couldn’t see the way other students had received a mark for an answer that you got zero for instead.
Your family would scream and shout at you but the cradle of Yoongi’s arms was like the eye of a tornado where everything was calm.
You endeavoured to improve your grades, with the warmth of Yoongi’s hand in yours, supporting you every step of the way. On some days, particularly lazy afternoons, Yoongi would tutor you on his couch whilst you cockwarmed him.
Steam curled into the air from the cup of tea that he brewed for you, saying that it’d improve your concentration. With a textbook laid open on your lap, you desperately tried to absorb as much information as you could but with each sip, your lids became heavy and your mind grew drowsier.
Eventually, Yoongi would extract the tea cup from your grip and place it down on the coffee table before you could hurt yourself. Mouth dry as cotton, Yoongi would push you onto your back before moving his cock in and out of you, revelling in the lewd squelch of your pussy as he fucked you balls deep.
You’d murmur, “S-Sorry,” in your semi-conscious state, for being too dumb to even stay awake whilst studying.
Yoongi’s face, which hovered above you like an angel, bestowed forgiveness as he cooed, “It’s okay, baby. You’re still good. You deserve this cock, hm? You deserve to feel good. You’ll always be daddy’s good girl.”
You craved for his sweet nothings. You lived for his praise. Without it, you would spiral and your family’s cruel words would prick you with their thorns until you bled an ocean of red. This was precisely why, you fidgeted and wrung your hands as you stood in the basketball court under the blazing sun.
You loathed gym class. You always felt like everybody’s eyes were on you but you were also always the last one to be chosen for a team.
That was until, Jeon Jungkook moved to your school.
He was from Busan in which his dialect would creep through whenever he did his student council president speeches. He won first place at every sports festival, always a sight to behold with the wind sweeping through his hair as he sprinted to the finish line. He achieved impressive grades, even if the rumour was that his father paid tutors a hefty amount to guarantee his son entered a top university.
He was gifted and privileged but he was polite and never looked down on anybody. Sometimes, his doe eyes would betray his shyness and his frustration towards a question in class would show that he wasn’t perfect. He was hardworking and everybody liked him, and you did too, although the two of you had never spoke.
But for some unfathomable reason, Jungkook would always pick you as the second member for his team. The first being his best friend, Yugyeom, who was also a force to be reckoned with on the field.
Beads of sweat dripped down your neck as you stood beside Yugyeom now. You hardly participated at all but felt somebody’s eyes on you. You turned around and saw Yoongi watching you from the classroom window, his eyes dark and unreadable. Your eyes widened upon seeing his lips pressed into a thin line, panic rising like bile in your throat.
The disappointment upon his face filled you with dread and you didn’t see it coming when the basketball hit you right in the head.
You cried out in pain, falling to the ground. Your knees stung where the concrete scraped you and you placed your hand over the throbbing ache in your temple. Your head hung low, in embarrassment, as you saw the shadows of your classmates crowd around you.
“Are you okay?” Jungkook frantically asked.
He was by your side, hands on your shoulders, as he tried to see if you’re alright. He was on his knees before you, blocking you from everyone else’s view. He smelled like the ocean. You weakly nodded in response to his question but Jungkook’s brows remain furrowed, eyes widened in concern. You wondered if he was the one who accidentally hit you in the head although the way he was glaring at Yugyeom said another story instead.
Your sports teacher asked you gently, “Do you want to go to the infirmary?”
You nodded once more, unable to find the words to speak. You stood up, bashful by how Jungkook tried to steady you. You murmured, “Thank you,” before quickly walking away, conscious of the burning gaze that followed your retreating back.
The waves of pain that had washed over you receded as you steadfastly approached your classroom. You pushed the door open and almost screamed when Yoongi slammed the door shut behind you before pushing you up against it.
He cupped your jaw roughly, forcing you to look him in the eye. His sharp eyes pierced into your trembling heart. His thumb dug into your jugular, making anxiety seize your throat. You could not recognise your lover, all you saw was a predator that wanted to sink its claws into you and tear you apart so nobody else could claim you.
He growled, “What was that?”
You stammered, “W-What do you mean?”
“That transfer student,” Yoongi spat, “He had his hands all over you and you let him.”
“No, no,” you pleaded for your innocence, “I was hurt. I would never let him touch me, I’m yours!”
But Yoongi wasn’t satisfied. His hand tightened on your neck until you struggled to breathe. You felt his cold rings burning into your delicate skin like he was branding you. But you did not dare to claw at him with your nails, did not dare to beg him to relinquish his grip. It was only when you began to cough and your eyes almost grew bloodshot that Yoongi’s hand dropped to the collar of your uniform, deftly unbuttoning your shirt until your lace bra came into view.
He tapped the tip of his finger on your sternum before dragging his fingers along the canvas that was your skin, littered with bruises that he painted with your lips. Yoongi considered it to be a sin to keep such a work of art hidden. You could not truly belong to him because you were his student. But his love for you had no bounds and he was sick and tired of the restraints.
Rules were made to be broken just like dolls are.
“Do you want to be a good girl?”
He growled, “Then you have to earn it.”
Yoongi latched his hand upon your wrist, pain shooting up your arm, as he roughly dragged to the other side of the classroom where the glass windows were. It overlooked the basketball and tennis courts which your classmates occupied.
You gasped as Yoongi pushed you right up against the window and began unbuckling his belt.
“W-What are you doing?”
Yoongi snaked the leather belt around your wrists, tying your hands behind your back.
“You said you want to be a good girl, don’t you?”
His hands wandered up your skirt, hooked his thumbs onto your panties to slide them down your legs. You stepped out of them for him and he curled his arm around your waist. He said, “Open your mouth for me.”
Your mouth parted, breath hitching in your throat when Yoongi spat into it.
It was humiliating, the way he slid down your tongue, but you obeyed.
You whined when Yoongi shoved your cotton panties into your mouth. He clucked his tongue, “That should help you keep it down, hm?”
Your stomach twisted like your restrained wrists, fearful of your classmates’ wandering eyes. Yoongi slapped his bare cock against your skin, splattering his pre-cum all over your inner thighs. You squealed in protest until the rip of the condom packet resounded in your ears as Yoongi teared it open with his teeth.
The pregnancy scare from the first time Yoongi ravished you had led you to a breakdown, resulting in him buying you the morning after pill or else, he would have lost you to your own self-destruction. Although all he could think about was how he had confessed, in the midst of fucking your brains out, that he wanted to breed you.
You knew that your family would disown you if you got pregnant, especially as a high school student, and you begged Yoongi to use condoms. Yoongi gave in, after knowing that you had stolen all of the ones in the school infirmary, endeared by your guts. However, it mostly helped that you agreed to let him fuck you in the ass with a lubricated condom, taking you in the filthiest way.
But it wasn’t enough for Yoongi. It never felt as good as the first time, when he was bare and your walls were wrapped around him so deliciously. So wet, warm and tight. The two of you, separated, by nothing. He didn’t want to empty himself inside the condom, he wanted to make you bloated with his cum. He needed all of you.
Yoongi quickly rolled the condom onto his cock. He knew that you’d be able to tell the difference, but you wouldn’t be able to, when you were lost in the throes of pleasure. His fingers petted your folds, sampling your wetness.
“Is this for Jungkook or me?”
Muffled by the fabric, you attempted to utter his name. To you, Jungkook was a stranger. You did not truly know him but nor did you truly know the man who hitched up your pleated skirt so he could breed you like he had always desired. Your body was arched enticingly for him, hands twisted behind your back, so utterly defenceless. Your inner thighs shined with his pearlescent pre-cum and he wanted to see more drip out of your cunt instead.
His cock sank into your pussy and he did not give you time to adjust, violently surging into you with each thrust. The glass window rattled against your nose as you moaned, unable to decide whether you wanted to squeeze your eyes shut in embarrassment or to keep an eye out for anyone who might see you like this. Mouth stuffed with panties and pussy full of cock, continuously pushed up against the glass every time he plunged into you.
Yoongi watched the way your ass jiggled every time he drove his hips into you. It was hypnotising, the way he punctured a moan out of your throat whenever his cockhead breached your cervix, so close to where he’d spill his seed into your womb. He placed his hand over your stomach, eager for when it’d bulge into his palm. His hand continued to move further down to your pussy, pulling a yelp from your throat every time he pinched your clit when he had you stuffed full.
He eyed the latex on his cock, the way it glistened with your wetness, stealing it from him. Your pussy clenched down onto his cock whenever anybody moved their heads, anxious that they’d meet your teary gaze. You should beg Yoongi to stop but ecstasy clogged your mind.
But your heart stopped when Jungkook looked at you.
He was like a deer caught in the headlights. He saw the way your chest heaved, the way your tits bounced as Yoongi pounded you hard, aware that Jungkook had caught you.
There was the blow of a whistle, signalling the end of class. Everybody began making their way back and Jungkook quickly looked away despite his turmoiled expression. He acted like he had seen nothing at all, causing mixed feelings to stir inside you.
But Yoongi pulled out of you, and quickly shoved you onto one of the desks. Whilst Jungkook’s doe eyes lingered in your mind, Yoongi pulled off the condom before sliding back into your sopping cunt.
You belatedly realise that the desk Yoongi was fucking you on belonged to Jungkook. Desperately, your hips tried to meet his, fucking back onto him so your lover would quickly reach his high. It accelerated your own release, the coil of heat in your stomach snapping as Yoongi’s thumb fiddled with your clit. You gushed onto his pummelling length, biting into the desk to muffle your scream of pleasure, unaware of the streaks of cum splashing against your inner walls until it was too late.
You melted into him as he pulled you up, undoing the restraints on your wrists. He smiled beautifully at you and saw the way your eyes gleamed. As he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, he thought about how your favourite flowers were daisies and for all the things that they represented - innocence, purity and motherhood.
With the discovery of your pregnancy, you spent several days absent from school whilst you dealt with the fallout of a new life blooming inside you. On your family’s doorstep, because you never considered their home to be yours, they disowned you – slamming the door right into your face. The moonlight had shined upon Yoongi then as he pulled you into his embrace. Contrary to your fears, he wanted to keep the child and most of all, he wanted to keep you.
In the blink of an eye, your teacher became your sole provider, as you moved in with him. He respected your wish to drop out of school, you believed academics was not for you, and you couldn’t imagine facing Jungkook ever again especially with your growing belly. He’d know and Yoongi’s job would be in jeopardy.
You had confessed your fears to Yoongi in which he said there was nothing to wrong about. But to ease your mind, he said he’d request to transfer to a different school in which the two of you would move to somewhere else and start a new life with the one growing inside you.
You had made peace with the pregnancy and grew fonder of the budding child, day by day. You had the strong instinctual urge to protect it even if you didn’t know from what exactly. Peacefully you slept in your shared bedroom with Yoongi. Your lover never had to use a condom again. His hot cum filled you up to the brim as you rested, replacing the warmth of his body whilst he continued working into the night.
Yoongi had just finished pouring a cup of steaming black coffee when the doorbell rang. He glanced at the wall, the hands of the clock saying that it was half past midnight.
Unsheathing a kitchen knife from the drawer, he kept it hidden under his sleeve as he calmly walked to the front door. Looking through the peep-hole, Yoongi immediately opened the door when he saw who stood on the other side.
“What are you doing here?”
Jungkook’s eyes widened, as though he was not the one who had pushed his doorbell. Yoongi had to admit, that there was something about Jungkook’s eyes, something that made you feel so guilty because of the way they gleamed, like they can bring to light all of the darkness inside you. He was bundled up in a coat, hands shoved into his pockets, backpack on his shoulders. It was a cold winter night and Yoongi wondered how his CEO father could ever leave him out of his sight. For all the pressure he placed upon his son, Jungkook’s father gave him everything. Money, love, support – everything Yoongi never had.
“Mr Min…is she sleeping?”
Yoongi’s jaw clenched. He wasn’t going to play dumb. Not when he’d seen Jungkook watching him fuck you. Not when he’d seen Jungkook follow the two of you to his home before. “Yes.”
Jungkook exhaled slowly. “Good. Can we talk inside?”
Yoongi stepped aside, allowing Jungkook to walk in, and ensured that he came alone before closing the door.
Jungkook politely seated himself on the couch and waited for Yoongi to join him, hands curled into fists on top of his knees.
“Just spit it out.”
Despite the way his hands quivered, Jungkook’s voice was determined as he said, “I want you to leave Y/N alone.”
Yoongi let out a bark of laughter. “And who would take care of her?”
“I could,” Jungkook breathed. “Others could.”
Yoongi smirked. “And why not me?”
“Because you’re a predator, Mr Min. You ruined her life.”
“She’s eighteen. She’s an adult who can make her own decisions.”
Jungkook’s voice trembled as he said, “You know what I’m talking about. You groomed her, took advantage of her vulnerability.”
Yoongi shook his head. “She and I, we are the same. What I helped her do was to leave the toxic environment she grew up in like I did. I saved her.”
“I know that you plan to trap her, have her stay with you forever and I’m here to tell you to let her go or else I’ll tell everyone what you did. You know they would believe me, Mr Min.”
This made Yoongi’s fists clench in anger. Of course, everyone would believe the privileged kid, born with a silver spoon in his mouth. It was so easy for Jungkook to be good when there wasn’t a single thing he had to worry about. Brave enough to confront Yoongi because he had always had the protection of money, talking down to him from his high horse.
Yoongi calmly stood up. “That’s an empty threat.”
Jungkook looked up at him, eyes wide. “Why do you say that?”
“Because you wouldn’t want her to get in trouble.”
Jungkook’s bottom lip quivered. He was so utterly transparent and foolish.
“You’re just here to scare me, aren’t you?”
“I’m here to warn you. She is a victim and the only person who will get in trouble is you. Let her go or else, I’ll bring this to the police.”
Yoongi chuckled. “I can’t let her go, Jungkook, not when she wants to be with me.”
“One day, she will leave you, Mr Min,” Jungkook said, “She will see you for the monster that you are. In fact, I will tell her myself.”
Jungkook stood up and walked away from him as though to find you.
Yoongi let the knife under his sleeve drop into his palm. He gripped the handle firmly as he said, “Jungkook.”
When Jungkook turned around, Yoongi slashed his throat with the knife. Red, hot blood came gushing out of his neck where his jugular had been severed. Jungkook collapsed to the floor and Yoongi stabbed him over and over even when he had ceased to breathe. All Yoongi could hear was peaceful silence inside his head, like being in the eye of a tornado – the same way he had felt when he stabbed his parents to death.
The moonlight shined upon Yoongi as he dug a hole in his backyard. Jungkook died with his eyes open, pitch black as they watched Yoongi in the darkness. He unzipped Jungkook’s backpack and found cans of fresh tuna.
Yoongi kept those to be used after he adopted a cat with you but buried everything else. He used his feet to kick dirt upon the shifted soil to make it less noticeable.
Scattered upon Jungkook’s grave in the earth were the withered daisies in his garden.
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Yandere BTS Sugar Daddy AU - Our Kitten~
Anon asked - Hello can you do a bts yandere sugar daddy au??
2.2. If it's an imagine, can I do all of them in one plot, as in they're all your sugar daddies but they've decided to share you? Or would you prefer it to be sort of like an reaction template with the members separate, or something else?
Where they all decide to share
The gender can be female and the scenario type can be up to you. Thank you again. Your blog is a goldmine and I just love you soo much.
I hope you enjoy, my sweet anonnie~ I love you way more~
You, were a lucky woman.
It's great luck to get a sugar daddy, even better luck to get a hot sugar daddy, but you had reached the peak with seven hot sugar daddies, plus ones that seemed to like you for who you are, not just your body.
Seven rich billionaires, CEO's, apparently held large enough interest in what you thought was your measly body, ready to fight with all they had to have it as theirs. You had grown to be interested in them as well, and honestly, which broke college student would say no to one, or several, sugar daddies, so you just begged them to get along and share, which they weren't used to but were ready to try to have you at least partly as theirs.
After eight, long and detailed contracts, you officially belonged to the seven as their baby girl, kitten, doll and any pet name they wished to use and were sure you'd like (an actual point in the contracts). The seven men had decided to purchase a fucking castle, feeling like a measly mansion wouldn't be extravagant enough, and all eight of you fit comfortably in it.
The only two problems you all had in your relationship were you and them.
The problem (well, you didn't see it as a problem, *insert huffing emoticon*) with you, and partially with the boys was that they refused to actually use you for what the contract stated you'd mostly be used for, sex. You had sex, yes, but it was extremely rare and they preferred to just spoil you, and you were not okay with that. You did your best to repay them, and that meant cleaning and cooking, and they weren't on board, stating your precious body was only meant to be worshipped, not to work, and the only people who could introduce it to possible harm were the boys themselves when punishing you. Eventually, everything that could be used to clean or cook was hidden away, and only the maids who came over had access to them.
The problem with the boys was that, even if the contract strictly stated when which man would have you all to themselves, they still wanted you when their time had ended. This often resulted in fights and arguments that you'd have to split apart, usually by a kiss to both of the arguing members, which then ended in the others being jealous of not getting kisses and the day would end with a long cuddle session.
This was one of those days.
You sat in the humongous living room, lounging around on the couch lazily. Well, you didn't have anything to do. You didn't feel like shopping, it seemed like everything you could do on any of your many electronics was already done, you weren't allowed to cook or clean. It was boring as hell.
Yoongi walked downstairs. Today was technically Jungkook's day, but he had several meetings and a lot of work in general, so it meant it was a first come, first served type of day, the catch being that all of the other boys were swallowed in work as well. Yoongi was often the one to be most often stressed about work, his obsession with you not lightening no matter how many hours he worked, meaning he got more restless and restless the more he had to be away from you, resulting in anger and a ton of breaks. This, was obviously, one of his breaks, no matter how possessive Kook was with his days.
"Kitten, come cuddle daddy, will you?" Yoongi smirked. They had actually trained you very well. You were all obedient now, the result of a lot of punishments you had received, as evidenced by your form immediately shooting up from the couch and speeding to Yoongi, the man's smirk widening when he was enveloped in your warm hug. "Hi Yoon. Tired?"
"Always, when I'm not with you." Yoongi smiled at you, pecking your nose. Usually, a sugar daddy - baby relationship was more business like, money in exchange sex and company, but you were basically in a poly relationship with the seven, just getting way more gifts and care than normal relationships.
"Awh, d'you love me that much?" The eight had already established the seven harboured romantic feelings for you, and even if you still weren't sure you wanted an actual relationship with them, or returned the feelings completely, you were up to letting them shower you with love and affection.
"Of course. Now come on, I want cuddles." Yoongi picked you up with no trouble at all, walking back upstairs, but passing his office, instead choosing to enter his large and spacious bedroom, throwing you down on the bed, then closing the door, pulling off his shirt and jumping in next to you, immediately collecting you back in his strong arms.
You had learnt about how spontaneous the boys were, liking to cuddle literally wherever, so you had just turned to wearing night dresses and pyjamas everywhere around the house. The boys never allowed anyone over either way, and you weren't allowed outside the premises of the castle anyway, only being allowed to enter the yard and garden with the supervision of a staff or preferably one of the boys themselves, so there was no point in dressing up all nice and fancy, except on the days where you wanted to spoil yourself a little or give the boys a treat.
You just smiled, wrapping around the short, but still taller than you boy tightly. "Missed you. Was all bored without you all." Your small voice echoed in the quiet room, the only other sounds being Yoongi suckling on your neck lightly. "Our lil baby missed her daddies, huh? Must've missed me especially, right?" Yoongi smirked again, teasing.
"Yoon, you know I'm not allowed to say I have a favourite, even if I have one. You'd end up teaming up and killing my favourite, just like how you did with Bobby. " You pouted.
"Don't mention that scummy butlers name. He was idiotic for trying to flirt with our baby. Plus, he might not be dead." Yoongi shrugged, but his voice was much more cold now.
"Sorry for mentioning him, Yoon. I know you didn't like him, but I had fun talking with him when all of you were busy like today." Your voice had turned much more quiet and soft now that you had heard the decrease of warmth in Yoongi's voice.
Yoongi sighed, but before he could calm you, the door burst open, a seething Jungkook appearing. "Mine." He growled lowly, storming over and ripping you out of Yoongi's arms, a cold glare being sent at Yoongi. The rest of the boys, gasping for air, stopped at the door to Yoongi's bedroom.
"We'd protect you so Jungkook doesn't accidentally pummel you to death, but you broke the rules, again, so can't save you now. This is a third payback to when you stole princess when it was my turn." Namjoon shrugged.
"Don't worry, pumpkin," Seokjin warmly smiled at you. "Gukkie won't harm Yoon, at least not today and with you present. He's got you in his arms now, he's currently not sane enough to comprehend anything else but you." He calmed you when he saw the panic you were in at Namjoon's words, still in Jungkook's muscular arms, the overgrown muscle pig sniffing and nipping at your neck, trying to get Yoongi's scent off and his on.
You calmed down slowly, Jungkook letting out a content sigh when he noted the fact, the boy still being a little bit out of it. "G-gukkie?" Your soft voice calmed Jungkook even more. "Mh? Want cuddles? Kissies? Gifts? You must want gifts, right? Taehyung, get baby everything on the future gift list this instant." Jungkook brightened at the attention you gave him, even if it was tiny.
"Baby girl, Kookie had a hard day at work today, he will be a little crazed all day. We'll lock you both up in Gukkies room, okay? Just in case you make a lil mistake and he goes psycho." Hoseok smiled, wanting to pet your hair, but refraining himself at the murderous glare Jungkook sent him.
"O-okay..." You mumbled quietly. "Gukkie, can we go to your room? I want comfy cuddles."
Needless to say, you got very comfy cuddles that day.
And this happened on the daily, really. Wether it be Jimin stealing you on Namjoons turn or Taehyung taking you out when it was Seokjins day, the boys couldn't control themselves when thirsting for you and your sweet attention all on them. It wasn't often all seven shared you at the same day, it usually only happened on the Most Special Day Of The Year Number One or Number Two, your birthday or the day where you signed all eight of the contracts.
On your birthday, they accompanied you outside of the premises of the castle to let you meet your friends and family for a whole day. You were allowed to hug your brother and kiss your mother and father. Everyone thought you were just a very lucky girl who was in a lovely relationship with seven, rich men, and although you were, the relationship was also abusive, but the boys didn't let anyone know that. For all they had to know, you were their obedient, small girlfriend, and they could wander for eternity why you immediately jumped to sit in their lap when one of them leaned back and gave the lightest tap to your thigh, or why you shivered and had a look of fear when they whispered words similar to 'room, whip, blood, never meet' in your ear when you hugged your brother just a little bit too hard.
On the Most Special Day Of The Year Number Two, you were pulled inside the Bed Room, a room in the castle which had nothing but a huge bed which covered almost the entire room, and a wardrobe which contained pyjamas, water, and three boxes full of sex toys. All seven of them took turns absolutely wrecking your tiny body, usually ganging up in teams of three or four and taking you at the same time. All eight of you loved the event, but the boys had too much trouble containing their jealousy on other days to comprehend the idea of sharing your body.
There were, of course, also days where they decided to share. It usually consisted of all seven teaming up to spoil you with expensive clothing and made you model it for them, taking pictures and posting them to the instagram account they made just to make everyone jealous of the woman they worshipped, or ordering food from the most luxurious restaurants, feeding you with 79$ worth dekopon and 1.4 million dollars worth Strawberries Arnaud. Of course, you never knew the cost of the food you were fed, even if the pizza cost a thousand dollars, but you could guess from the gold leaves covering it. You just sighed and allowed yourself to be coddled and fed. If that was what they wanted, you weren't going to refuse.
And that was how you spent your days. When you finished college and had literally no reason at all to stay in the contract, the boys proceeded to put the castle into lock down and refused to terminate the contract which stated it would exist as long as a ending contract wasn't signed by your contract. If you had decided to give yourself to them at your worst, they would deserve to have you for themselves forever, no matter if you wish to stay or not.
Maybe, just maybe, you weren't so lucky to have seven sugar daddies who seemed to have real feelings for you. Maybe.
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Soft!Yandere Jimin: he thinks you’re going to leave him
The request: yandere jimin scenario where his girlfriend jokes about leaving Jimin and going out with another guy instead to her friends on the phone, but he thinks they're serious about it and starts panicking
I feel like I’m bad at writing requests cause I always manage to change it but hope you still liked it!
You looked outside the window as you waited for your tea to be ready. The naked winter trees line the avenue making you feel thankful that Jimin wanted a house far from all the city rush. You looked at the clock counting the hours until Jimin will be back, mentally making a ‘to do list’ before that, knowing that all he’ll want is cuddling. Not that it was problem, sitting cozy by the flame, talking about everything and nothing at the same time, when Jimin is at his realest, no jealousy, no posessiveness, only sweetheart Jimin.
You smile as you hear your phone go off, knowing exactly who is trying to facetime you. Automatically a smiled appeared on your face as you saw your friend. It was going to be a fun talk, you though before saying hi.
You failed to notice how much time had passed, nor did you hear the loud crackling noise from downstairs as Jimin opened the doors with a sweet shout echoing through the house as he yelled your name. Seeing you laughing your ass off as your friend kept sending fat cats pictures made his heart beat faster, happiness overflew him. Other times he would get annoyed for others making you laugh but you’ve been a good girl lately, so why not let you have fun with your friend, he thought before walking back to the kitchen to prepare hot chocolate for both of you.
He stumbled the stairs now slightly annoyed for you taking so long, didn’t you miss him? He felt jealousy and aggression rush into him as he heard you mentioning an unfamiliar male’s name. He could see the perfect smile on your face as you laughed “Of course, I’ll just pack my bags and leave. Aish, can you imagine him waking you with his sexy British accent?!”
You jolted full of shock when you heard cups shattering and the loud curses that left your very angry looking boyfriend’s mouth. “Jimin!” you gasped immediately ending the call, rushing to him. “Does it hurt?” you ask while freaking out, knowing that if you won’t do anything he will end up with scars on his hands. You frown as he doesn’t respond only heavy breathing is heard. “Shit, let’s go” you tug him rushing through the doors to the outside. Your breath rises in visible puffs to join the darkened clouded night sky. There is a freezing chill in the air making it somewhat suffocating to be outside. “Here, here” sweet whisper makes Jimin slightly less freaked out.
He frowns as he sees your worried look, he hated to cause you any other emotion than love or happiness. He hated to see you hurt or sad.
He scowled as the cold snow made contact with his soft skin. A loud sigh left your lips as you tried not to freak about it too much but your trembling lips revealed that you were on the edge of tearing up. “H-how did this happen?” he looked up as he heard your shaky voice wondering what caused it, cold weather or him?
“Do you really want to leave me?” Jimin started in a low murmur making your eyes widen. What was he talking about? You thought, drawing small fingers on his hand knowing this will make him calm, already seeing Jimin get angry. As soon as he saw a tear roll down your cheek with his free hand he wiped it away. His hands a little rougher than usual. “Why are you crying?” he asked confused, no matter how mad he was, the sight in front of him broke him, ripped his heart away.
“I don’t know” you chuckled looking up at the dark sky as more tears started to roll down your cold cheeks. “I don’t like when you’re in pain” you mumbled, embarrassed by your small confession. “And I don’t want to leave you. Where did you get that from?” you asked confused. Jimin’s body slightly relaxed as soon as he heard you say it.
“I just heard you talking about the British guy” he murmured. You giggled kissing Jimin’s cheek, that was slightly red from the cold biting it constantly. “I was just kidding Jiminie, we were talking about a book character” he wanted to hide right there as soon as you said it. “So you still love me?” he asked with bright gaze. “Of course and I will never stop” he couldn’t help but smile. You’re his.
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Positive (Yoongi x Reader)
Pairing: Yoongi x Reader
Word Count: 8.8k
Warnings: Yandere, Stalking, Obsession, Vomit, Non-Consensual touching, Kidnapping, Manipulation, Pregnancy, Mentions of Abortion, Referenced Childhood Verbal Abuse and Neglect
I do not condone the acts displayed in this story nor do I believe any members of BTS would actually engage in this type of behavior. This is simply written for entertainment purposes and should not be taken as a reflection of my own values, opinions, or morals.
Preview: You looked so pretty to him, a cute skirt concealing your thighs with a delicate blouse that accented the sweet slope of your pregnant tummy. Some sick part of him wished that was his baby nestled inside of you, and at some points he had to remind himself that it simply wasn’t. But what he would give to have it be his, to have you be his. It was so hard for him not to release the wheel with one hand and gently caress the swollen flesh of your belly where the little piece of you rested. He knew his thoughts were not normal, that to anyone else they would be considered sick, but he wanted to take care of you and love you so fucking badly that you would want nothing but him and the baby. His baby.
A/N: Okay, so this quickly became a very long fic. I don’t really have much to say except this happened. So yeah, I’ll see you guys in the comments hopefully.
It was a mistake, it really was but now that mistake had resulted in a major consequence. You were pregnant. You weren’t perfect, in fact you were far from it. Another drunk night that you had spent with some guy you didn’t know had left you spiraling in the downward slide of your hangover. At first, you didn’t notice a difference. It was when your period was two weeks late that you put two and two together.
The cashier sent you a knowing look as she handled the pack of pregnancy tests, the sympathy was reflected in her eyes. She took one look at you and understood the situation. There wasn’t a ring settled on your finger, your eyes held deep sleepless bruises beneath them, your hair was wild, and your clothes were wrinkled in your rush to put them on. She worked in silence as she cashed you out and gave you a soft smile as she handed you the plastic bag. You squeaked out a quick thank you and walked out of the automatic doors so fast it looked like you were being kicked out.
A quick drive and a panic attack later, you found yourself in your bathroom. You sat on the closed lid of the toilet, your elbows propped on your knees as your hands cradled your face in fear. Your fingers tapped the crown of your head anxiously as you waited, refusing to even glance in the direction of the little purple sticks. For once in your life, you hoped you would fail a test.
The alarm on your phone spurred you to stand but still you didn’t approach. You stood still, the only movement in the small room being the rapid rise and fall of your chest. Your eyes slipped closed as your hand rose to rest over your heart, you could feel it thumping through your ribs. With one deep breath you opened your eyes again and looked down at the counter.
Both of them said positive, the two thin lines on each test staring back at you. You were pregnant.
“Fuck.” You whispered, your hand coming to rest against your forehead while the other settled on your lower back. You had really messed up this time, how were you ever going to care of another human being when you couldn’t even take care of yourself? Your apartment was so small it couldn’t have enough space for you and a baby, not to mention you had a job that was allowing you to just scrape by on your own. There was no way you would move back in with either of your parents, that just simply wasn’t an option.
Looking in the mirror showed just how much of a wreck you were, you looked terrible. Your eyes trailed down your figure, ending at your lower abdomen. Curiously, you turned to the side and rolled your shirt up to the edge of your bra. Your stomach looked the same. It was hard to believe there was a tiny human in there, that your baby was in there. Your fingers delicately circled the skin of your stomach, your eyes scanning the expanse of exposed flesh.
“We’re really screwed, buddy.” You whispered to the pea sized infant in the silence of your bathroom. You were scared shitless, but oddly it was comforting to think you technically weren’t going through this completely alone. You had this tiny buddy who was stuck with you, and that made it a little less scary.
That night you laid curled up in your sheets, searching through job listings on your phone. There was no way you could make enough money with just one job to prepare for this baby. It was best to start looking as soon as possible, to save up for the coming events before they happened.
In the day you worked as a barista, resigned to dealing with some fairly polite customers as well as utter assholes who liked to think they were your boss and could flip out on you when they saw fit. It was a tiring job, you were constantly on your feet and running around to make and serve numerous drinks that varied from person to person. You couldn’t fathom what it would be like when your belly was swollen and you couldn’t see your feet anymore, you could only hope your boss would keep you on cash towards the end of your pregnancy.
During the night you worked at a gas station, this ideally was not the best job either. Working nights is already scary as is, and of course every now and then a shady individual would wander their way into the store. But being pregnant and working nights bestowed you with a new layer of fear. There was always the prospect that there could be an armed robbery and that was terrifying to no end.
In such a short amount of time, everything had changed. You were working more, you were sick more, you were tired, your diet and habits had changed, and you had to see your OB/GYN more often. The first time you saw your baby you felt like a horrible mother. It was so small, just barely there, yet the staff were cooing over it like it was the cutest thing they had ever seen. You were amazed that you were growing something inside of you, but it really wasn’t cute. If someone had told you that it was your stomach and that was a pea you had eaten earlier you would believe them and you wouldn’t think it was cute.
When you were ten weeks along, you heard their heartbeat for the first time and suddenly it all became rather real. You really were pregnant, and there they were. Your tummy had a soft bump that wasn’t there before accompanied by a fast heartbeat that echoed in the room as your fingers came back to trace the skin again. It was so strange to think that there were two heartbeats in your body now, one from them and the other yours. But it did remind you that you were not alone.
Becoming pregnant is stressful. So many women seem so pleased when they find out that they are going to have a baby, but they rarely stop to think about what being pregnant entails. First and foremost, you spend a lot of mornings wrapped around the toilet and that absolutely blows. Secondly, you can’t drink. To all the women who love to drink, maybe getting pregnant isn’t the choice for you. For you, this was a great challenge. You had spent so many nights using a bottle to cope with the wreck that was your life. You could still clearly remember unscrewing the caps to your bottles of liquor and watching your shaking hands dump their contents down your kitchen sink. And if your questionable habits weren’t bad enough, they could no longer be remedied or replaced with caffeine. Too much caffeine is bad for a baby, apparently. You really were on the straight and narrow now, the one thing this little baby had done that was good for you. But, the little rascal also tended to stress you the fuck out. Baby furniture is expensive. You need a crib, a changing table, a stroller, bottles, pacifiers, burp cloths, clothes, and of course diapers.
“I swear to God, you better become a doctor and take care of your mother.” You groaned as you heaved again, your head dipping down to the toilet. This kid was going to kill you, if not with the morning sickness then with the insurmountable debt you were going to be in.
You two had a routine you would follow everyday, first you threw up and lectured your baby. Then, you would eat breakfast and dress for your morning shift at the cafe you worked at. Thinking back on it, a lot of people probably thought you were crazy. You had gotten into the habit of talking to the baby wherever you went, at the grocery store, in lines, and at work. Most probably assumed you were off your rocker and talking to yourself, seeing as your baby was nothing more than a little bump and many could write it off as you having some pudge. To be honest, you really didn’t give a fuck as to what anyone thought about you. No one could judge you harder than yourself.
The walk to work was usually pleasant, it was spring so the air was crisp and cool. With your earbuds in, you could pretend you were in a drama of some sort. Your life would match up quite nicely, the young girl who made mistakes and fell pregnant now trying to turn around her life for her unborn child. At least in a drama, you know there is some positive outcome, all of those trying times would build you up for something. Something that would change your world for the better at the end of the day. Little did you know how much of a dramatic turn your life would actually take. If you had known, maybe you wouldn’t have gone to work that day.
Your shift had been a normal one: busy. There was a constant flow of customers coming in and out of the shop, some you recognized as regulars and others you didn’t. He was certainly not a regular. The man that stood before you was definitely someone you would have recognized had you seen him before. He was of average height with smooth pale skin that looked like it had never seen a blemish. His hair was a deep black that brushed over his forehead, it looked like it would be soft to the touch. His eyes were just as attractive as the rest of him with a sweet sloping curve of the lids and deep dark irises. His lips reminded you of the porcelain dolls your grandmother collected, they were smaller yet plush with a red tint. In short, he was the most attractive man you had ever seen.
“Calm the fuck down, (Y/N).” You thought to yourself, “You’re a mother now, no more drooling over men who won’t even give you the time of day.”
After giving yourself a rather hard hit to your self esteem, you pulled on your work smile and greeted the insanely attractive customer. “Hello, welcome to Omela's, what can I get you today?”
He quickly told you his order and you noted that his voice was on the lower side, it was smooth and pleasant sending soft chills down your spine.
“And what will the name be for the order?” You asked with a light smile.
He slightly tilted his head to the side and raised an eyebrow, like he was confused that you didn’t know his name. “Yoongi.” He replied, albeit a little slowly.
“Alright, that’ll be up in a few minutes. Have a nice day.” You said with a swift nod of your head towards the end of the counter where the drinks were served. Yoongi looked back at you, his brows furrowed now as he took you in. He seemed like he didn’t understand you, like you were something alien to him. There was an awkward silence passed between the two of your as your ears burned in embarrassment at his steady gaze. He finally broke the staring contest when someone behind him sighed in annoyance, only then did he walk away. You breathed a sigh of relief once you were met with a new customer, a man you recognized as someone who always gave you a hard time when you would make his drink. Luckily, you were on cash today.
Your relief was momentary at best, you could have sworn that you could feel his gaze digging into you as you continued to work while he waited for his drink. As flattering as it was to have an attractive male paying attention to you, the staring was unsettling and had you messing up a couple of times as you took down customers orders. But finally, you could see him leaving. His dark hair and suited figure slipped through the crowded cafe as he made his way through the front doors, allowing you to finally breathe properly again. A part of you hoped he would come back tomorrow, but another part of you, in the back of your mind, told you it would be better if he never came back. If only that part of you was louder.
Min Yoongi was not the most social person. Being the heir of a large business tended to reel in selfish people who wanted to use him for his status. From the moment he was born, his fate was sealed. For as long as he could remember, his childhood was not normal. He had no friends but he always got what he wanted. He was the epitome of a spoiled child, but nothing ever fully satisfied him. His father was a strict man who had conditioned his son to be the perfect heir, his mother was a sweet woman who constantly bowed to her husband's will. Yoongi’s relationship with his father was a strange one, if anything it worked much like a coin toss: there was a fifty percent chance they would butt heads, and a fifty percent change they would get along. He could respect him for his knowledge while simultaneously hating him for choosing his life for his son.
Min Yoongi was just as notorious as his father, but for very different reasons. Yoongi was attractive and he knew it. His face was plastered on numerous magazines talking about the young, rich, single heir to a massive business. And because of this, he attracted a lot of unwanted attention from many women. When he was younger and much more reckless, he loved to indulge in their advances. But, he had grown to hate them as well as envy them. These women reminded him of leeches: seemingly harmless until they latched on and bled you dry. But, at the end of the day, they got to live normal lives free of the media, free of constraints, and free to choose their paths in life. It was a dangerous balance for him, his hatred and his envy, but it still hadn’t proved to be that great of a problem.
He always thought he was good at reading people, it was a skill that was necessary in his line of work. But you, you were different. And by different, he meant clueless. It amazed him that the doe eyed barista didn’t know his name. For the most part, everyone knew who he was. But you didn’t, and to him that was akin to a dessert one rarely got to have. And he wanted more of it. Before long, he found himself back at Omela’s every day. He became your regular, learning your work schedule so that he would only have you take his orders and only have you make his drinks. He loved when that sweet blush would stain your cheeks and the tips of your ears, it was just so endearing and amusing to watch you become so flustered.
His downward spiral began slowly, but once it began it was so hard to stop. He could feel himself plunging deeper and deeper each time he got to see you. To him, he was simply interested in you. You were so different from everyone he knew and that was why he paid so much attention to you, at least that was what he would tell himself to justify seeing you. When he was with you he tended to make an effort to actually speak to you, little comments here and there asking you about your day and all of the basic small talk one would have. But before he left the shop, he always gave you a compliment that would send the blood rushing to your face as it always did. It became a little game for him, he always challenged himself to make you blush a little harder each time he saw you. And it was oh so satisfying.
Each time he saw you and teased you, you tried your best to remain composed. Where his comments were pleasant and borderline flirtatious, yours were always the same bland responses: “Will that be all today?” and “Have a nice day.” as well as “Thank you for stopping by.” To him, nothing could be more frustrating than to hear you speak to him like you did to everyone else. He was a man used to getting everything he wanted and never being completely satisfied, and this was most definitely not what he wanted. In that sense he was much like a child still, at least around you he was. The minute he stepped foot outside of Omela’s he went back to wearing the same persona he always took on in the face of others: the cool, stoic, calculating business man. From that moment forward he made it a personal goal of his, to crack open your fake smile and see what was really going on inside that pretty little head of yours. You were going to be his little side project, whether you knew it or not.
And a project you were, being a barista meant you didn’t have much time to spend on each customer. You were constantly running around trying to fill everyone’s orders leaving a very small window for him to talk to you. Coming later was not that much of an option either and you always ran off somewhere else. So he tried his best to learn the lighter traffic hours within the shop, leaving one of his trusted employees in his place while he went to visit you. If anything were to come out of all of this work it would be an even worse addiction to caffeine.
And so, your strange friendship began as months began to pass. Yoongi was the most regular customer you ever had, always there at the same time during every single one of your shifts. Your co-workers had once told you that he had come in when you were out sick and immediately left without ordering anything. That troubled you as much as you found it endearing. Perhaps he was getting a little too attached to you, but he was harmless enough. You always assumed Yoongi was just another office worker looking for a pick me up during one of his breaks, you never really bothered asking him what he did or why he was there. Your job was to make drinks and that was that. But Yoongi was rather mischievous, in your opinion. He tended to remind you of a child looking for attention, and you tended to allow him to indulge in your attention, it was hard to say no to him and that should have been more troubling looking back on it.
The first time you had seen him twice in one day, was when you had entered your second trimester. The bulge in your stomach was much more noticeable now but still able to be hidden by plush sweaters and hoodies. Unluckily, you were having a hot flash and were seated behind the counter of the c-store in the gas station. You had just stripped yourself of your hoodie and were clad in an old ill fitting t-shirt when he walked in. For a moment, you didn’t recognize him seeing as you only made contact with him at Omela’s. It was his voice that reminded you it could only be him.
“(Y/N)?” He questioned, slowly strolling up to the register like he too was trying to make sure it was actually you.
“Oh! Yoongi!” You replied, still a little shocked at seeing him in a different context. “What can I help you with today?” You said with your employee smile he had grown accustomed to. It was also the smile he had grown to hate.
His eyes drifted down to your lower abdomen, widening slightly at the sight of the bump that rested there. The counters at Omela’s were much higher and tended to block the view of the rest of your body, this was the first time he was able to see you, and the sight was distressing.
“You’re pregnant.” He breathed.
Your body stiffened at the comment, your left hand coming up to rest lightly over the baby. Being a young, single, pregnant woman meant you were going to get some looks and some not very nice comments. You had only gotten one or two throughout the third month of your pregnancy as your baby had become more prominent to outsiders. You had grown relatively used to Yoongi, but in your mind he was just a customer who liked to tease you every now and then. The look in his eyes seemed to say otherwise, and it was becoming unsettling.
“Yeah, I am.” You answered, your voice flat, catering to your eyes that very clearly said it shouldn’t matter if you were or weren’t.
A bitter feeling rolled around in Yoongi’s chest. He was irritated at the thought that someone else had had your attention, that there was a strong chance that you had a boyfriend waiting at home for you. That you had a boyfriend that got to hold you, kiss you, love you, and evidently put a baby inside of you. The thought of that made him clench his jaw in irritation as his gaze darkened.
“That should have been me.” Something whispered in the recesses of his mind. It was dark, envious, and scary, even managing to startle himself.
“You and your boyfriend must be very happy.” He bit out, shoving his hands into his pockets as he glared down at the counter separating the two of you.
Your face twitched in annoyance, that seemed to be a common misconception. God forbid you were pregnant and the father wasn’t involved. You didn’t even know the father and the poor bastard didn’t even know he was a father. Well, the asshole apparently didn’t know to wrap it before you tap it so it didn’t exactly matter how he would feel if you ever figured out who it was.
“I don’t have a boyfriend.” You sighed in annoyance.
Yoongi’s eyes shot up to look at you once again, although this time the strain that had been evident on his face disappeared. The news that you weren’t tied down to anyone had made him much happier than he had expected, his dark thoughts long forgotten. But you were evidently pissed off.
“So, you’re doing this alone?” He asked, his brows furrowed in confusion once more.
“Yes.” You snapped back, your glare fixing him in his place.
There you were, the girl he had been looking for behind the fake smiles and forced pleasantries. His heart thumped as he finally got to see who was hiding behind that strange persona. A girl clueless as to who he was, but also a fierce woman who looked about ready to kill him. He realized that the two of them were the perfect dynamic, the man who had it all and the women who had nothing at all. In his mind this only solidified the idea that he wanted you, that you would need one another. But you were fuming at his attitude and mindless questions that were so unlike him.
“I want to offer you a job.” He said, ruffling through his pockets until he pulled out a business card.
“What?” You grunted, intrigued but still obviously pissed.
“You’re pregnant (Y/N) -”
“Thanks, I couldn’t figure that one out on my own.” You cut him off, your tone bitter and irritated.
“Which means,” he continued, “that you can’t be working two jobs. You’re going to overwork yourself and tire out if you keep doing this.” He said, sliding the business card across the counter to you.
“I don’t want your pity job.” You replied, gritting your teeth in frustration as you slid the card back to him. Not only had he questioned you and overstepped countless boundaries between the two of you, but he also doubted your capability to take care of yourself and your unborn child. The pregnancy hormones were not doing you any favors either. Not to mention, you didn’t want to just accept a job from someone you barely knew. Yes, Yoongi was a consistent customer of yours, but you didn’t know him and he barely knew you.
“It’s not a pity job, I just want to help you out.” He said, his eyes pleading for you to listen to him.
“You never would’ve offered me this if you didn’t know I worked two jobs and am pregnant. That sounds an awful lot like pity to me. I get enough of that from everyone else and I really don’t need it from you too. If you’re not going to buy anything then I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
“Please, just think about it.” He sighed, gently pushing the card towards you before he turned and walked out of the automatic doors.
“Yeah, right.” You huffed, boiling with irritation despite the fact that you were pocketing it as you spoke.
After that, there was a clear tension between the two of you. Yoongi still regularly came to Omela’s and persisted with his flirtatious behavior, always reminding you before he left that you could always have a better job with him. The great difference was your attitude. You were a grudge holder and that was your fatal flaw. Whereas Yoongi preferred to act like he hadn’t offended you, you refused to let him forget. Your demeanor was that of a woman scorned, you were short with him and refused to indulge in his small talk. Not to mention, that fake smile of yours never graced your lips when you dealt with him. If anything it seemed to please him more that he could see the real you, the one who knew she was down on her luck and was bitter from the direction her life had taken. But, if he wanted to see the real you then he would have to deal with your fury.
Yoongi had started coming to the gas station you worked at as well and that was unnerving. You had never seen him there before he knew that you worked there, and he always arrived during your shift. You could tell that Yoongi knew he was an exceptionally attractive man, and you were beginning to realize that he used that to his advantage and he too was hiding something from everyone else. You were stuck in this limbo of wishing he would leave you alone whilst wanting to figure out what his deal was. Yoongi was a strange man, and for all you knew that was the least of your worries concerning him.
Yoongi is not a patient man, and this game you were playing with him infuriated him to no end. He couldn’t understand why you continued to refuse him, he was offering you a job not asking your hand in marriage, well not yet at least. No matter what he did, he couldn’t seem to get you to change your mind. Yoongi is not a patient man, and you are a stubborn woman. The perfect volatile mix.
But all it took was one instance to set forth a chain of events that would send you tumbling back down that downward spiral that appeared to you as inescapable once more.
It was growing late, but you still had a few more hours of your shift ahead of you at the gas station. The clock read “11:30” and was slightly blurry from your tired gaze. If Yoongi was right about anything, it was that you wouldn’t be able to keep up with this much longer. Working two jobs with barely any days off and an ever growing belly was tiring. You were entering your fourth month of pregnancy now and it seemed like your belly was swelling more and more each day that passed. The morning sickness wasn’t as prevalent but still annoying and your feet ached from constantly standing. You spent most of your time daydreaming about your bed at this point, it was shitty but functional and was far better than standing all day.
Movement jolted you from your daze. Two men had entered the store, and to your horror you realized their intentions. They were dressed from head to toe in all black, masks covering their faces with bags slung over their shoulders. The blood drained from your face as your eyes zeroed in on a gun grasped in the taller man's right hand. You very slowly reached your hand under the counter, trying to appear unassuming as you quickly pushed the store’s panic button before they found you in the back of the store. And find you they did. The duo approached quickly as you slowly raised one hand in the air, the other coming to protect the bump of your stomach. Your heart raced against your rib cage, this was real and you were terrified.
The taller one holding the gun raised it in your direction, you could have sworn you felt your heart stop as chills ran down your spine forcing your limbs to shake.
“You know what to do,” the man spoke, his voice strained like he was lowering it. “make one wrong move and I’ll fucking kill you.”
You nodded quickly, the fear sending your body into panicked tremors as you slowly lowered your free arm to open the register.
“Hey man, I don’t know about this.” The shorter guy mumbled, his voice sounded shaky like he was nervous and didn’t really want to be there.
“Shut the fuck up.” The taller one replied, his gaze still trained on you as you began to empty the contents of the register into the waiting bag.
“C’mon man, look at her she’s pregnant!” He exclaimed, he seemed distressed. “I’m telling you it’s not worth it, he’s not paying us en-”
“I said, shut the fuck up!” He yelled, cutting off the shorter man in frustration while his voice made you jump in fear, tears beginning to pool in your eyes. You worked quicker, filling the bag as fast as you could so that they would leave and so that you could breathe. Once you were finished, the man yanked the bag off the counter and slung it over his shoulder.
“You didn’t see shit, got it? When the cops show up you tell them you don’t know shit, you were too scared to remember anything. Understand?” He said, the gun still trained on your trembling form. All you could do was nod.
“I said, do you understand?!” He barked.
“Yes!” You cried out as the tears finally broke free from your lids, cascading down the curves of your cheeks. Finally satisfied, the two men made a run for it as you slid down to the floor, your body curled up underneath the counter as your hand cupped your mouth, desperately trying to stop the choked sobs from escaping your throat as the flashing of blue and red lights cascaded through the windows of the shop.
That night, you called Yoongi.
The first day of your new job, Yoongi insisted he picked you up. At first you refused but once you remembered the events that transpired only a few nights before, you agreed. The first thing that alerted you that Yoongi had not been completely truthful with you was seeing the car he drove. You did not know much about cars, but you knew enough to understand he could not afford the vehicle without having an important job.
The night you called Yoongi, you were an absolute mess. You had been crying the entire time after you had given the police your statement. It was so bad he could barely understand what you were trying to say, but he could definitely make out that you were finally accepting to work with him after all this time of playing your game. He was stressed and elated. And now he had you with him, in his car, all to himself. The thought of that itself sent shivers down his spine as he drove. He could swear that your scent was filling his car, and he wanted you in there as long as he could so he could keep some piece of you with him when you were gone.
You looked so pretty to him, a cute skirt concealing your thighs with a delicate blouse that accented the sweet slope of your pregnant tummy. Some sick part of him wished that was his baby nestled inside of you, and at some points he had to remind himself that it simply wasn’t. But what he would give to have it be his, to have you be his. It was so hard for him not to release the wheel with one hand and gently caress the swollen flesh of your belly where the little piece of you rested. He hoped that maybe it would look like him and you, that he would be lucky enough that the little baby would pass as his child because God did he want it to be his child so badly. He knew his thoughts were not normal, that to anyone else they would be considered sick, but he wanted to take care of you and love you so fucking badly that you would want nothing but him and the baby. His baby.
He snapped out of his deluded thoughts as he pulled into the building’s parking garage. He was at work now, and he had a job to do. He rushed out of his car to run to your side and slide the door open for you.
“I’m not fragile, Yoongi. I can open a door.” You said as you scooted out of the passenger seat.
“I’m being a gentleman, I thought women liked that.” He replied, pulling a gummy smile that he only ever showed you.
Ah, there was the flirting you had been waiting for.
You hummed in response and walked in time with him, stepping into the elevator that would lead up into the building. The position you would be filling was as a secretary to the CEO, and to put it lightly you were scared shitless. You were nowhere near qualified to uphold such a position as most of your jobs had been in fast food or some other service. This job was prestigious in comparison to your old ones. You tapped your foot anxiously as the elevator continued to ascend making Yoongi look at you with curiosity gleaming in his eyes.
“What’s wrong?” He asked, his brows furrowing.
“Nervous,” You choked out. “I didn’t even have to interview for this job. I don’t want to fuck it up, especially when you obviously vouched for me.”
“Trust me, you’ll be more than fine (Y/N).” He chuckled as the elevator doors slid open.
“And how would you know that?” You retorted, following him out into the office space.
Yoongi remained quiet as he continued to walk, struggling to keep up with his quick strides. He came to a sudden stop almost sending you flying into his suited back. Said man turned on his heel to face you, jerking his head in the direction of a seamless glass door.
“Like I said, you’ll be fine.” He smirked.
Written on the glass door in a delicate precise font were the words: “CEO Min Yoongi”
He was your fucking boss. You felt betrayed in some way, like he had been holding out on you and even manipulating you so that he could get his way. Your eyes shifted into a glare as you looked at him, only nodding in confirmation at the information he had just presented you with. A sly looked crossed his face and he tilted his head back in a cocky manner, that cool smirk returning to his face. With that, he led you to your desk and began to instruct you on your new position as his personal secretary.
Time felt like it was passing quickly, and that was evident with the sizable bulge of your stomach. You were six months pregnant and your “little buddy”, as you liked to call him, was annoying the hell out of you. Sometimes he would randomly punch you in the belly button and that hurt like hell and would have you groaning over the keyboard and monitor in front of you. And the hot flashes had felt like they were ten times worse than before leading Yoongi to buy you a desk fan to keep you comfortable.
Yoongi. Something had become a little off about him, even more so than before. The more time that had passed had proven him to be a little clingy you could say. Even though it was your job to cater to him, it seemed to be more so the other way around. And in all honesty, your job was extremely easy. You barely ever had any work other than putting his daily schedule together, and that was a little strange to say the least. You figured you would be swamped with work, especially considering you were secretary to the CEO of Agust Corp. Yoongi’s behavior was becoming unsettling, you felt like you could never escape him. He even drove you to and from work, and while at work you constantly saw him. It was becoming unnerving that you could barely lift a finger without him losing it. While it was nice to have someone care about your well being and your baby, it was also weird that it was coming from your boss who you still didn’t really know. You were becoming excited, anticipating maternity leave so you could have some time away from him.
“(Y/N)?” A voice called, pulling you from your thoughts.
“Oh, hey Jungkook.” You said, with a soft smile. You really did like Jungkook, he was a sweet kid who was only a little younger than you and he had the most adorable bunny smile. He had been working under Yoongi for about a year now and respected him greatly, and he had worked his way up in the company rather quickly like the ambitious kid he was.
“How’s the little one doing?” He asked, his doe eyes round in curiosity as he looked over your desk.
“Causing trouble, as per usual.” You sighed. “What can I do for you?”
“Right, I need to talk to Yoongi if he’s free. I’ve gotta pick my girlfriend up from university, we’re going to spend some time at my family’s lake house so I’m trying to work remotely for a little bit.” He answered, with a dazed look in his eyes.
“Aw that’s so sweet of you Kook. His schedule is clear right now, you can head right in.” You replied, turning away from him to look at your monitor.
“Thanks, (Y/N)!” He called over his shoulder as he ran into Yoongi’s office.
What a cute kid he was, trapped inside a man’s body. Seeing Jungkook was one of the highlights of your day, actually he was one of the only people you talked to in the office after the “incident.” When you had started working as Yoongi’s secretary rumors began spreading like wildfire through the women in the building. Their theory was that you were some hookup gone wrong and Yoongi was taking pity on you, that he had to offer you a job to save face around his father. You weren’t stupid, you knew how bad it looked that someone with barely any experience got the position you did, and a high paying one at that: you had never seen your bank account so full. In fact you felt like you were being overpaid when the work you did was so minimal. All of these accusations began to surface and you had never felt more alienated in your life. But, once Yoongi found out about it he put a quick stop to it. All those women with hearts in their eyes completely shattered when he released his anger. They never talked about you again, and they never talked to you again. It was incredibly lonely being under Min Yoongi’s protection.
“Excuse me,” A soft voice called out to you, “I’m here to see Yoon…(Y/N)?”
At the sound of the unfamiliar voice saying your name, your head jerked up. The man that stood in front of you looked vaguely familiar but you couldn’t pin down where you had seen him before. In all honesty, he kind of looked like Yoongi. They shared the same raven hair, the same nose, and the same complexion. But for some reason, that wasn’t why he was familiar. Your startled heart began to slow as you realized it wasn’t uncommon for people to know your name considering you were the secretary to the CEO.
“Oh, you’re looking for Yoongi right? Let me see if he’s finished up in there.” You said with a smile, slowly standing up from the desk to get Yoongi. The man’s eyes widened in shock as he took you in, stopping you before you could make your way to the door.
“You’re - you’re pregnant?” He choked out, his face paling as he took you in.
You raised an eyebrow in confusion, startled by the stranger’s reaction. Everyone who worked in the building was well aware of your status at this point, you were somewhat surprised that this man didn’t know. When a new employee was told to see you, the easiest way to describe you was the pregnant lady on the top floor. It was almost weird that he was surprised.
“Yes, is that a problem?’ You asked, your gaze challenging him to say anything other than no.
“What’s going on here?” Yoongi’s voice cut through the awkward tension that had filled the room. His tone was stern and angry. Jungkook stood beside him, the both of them standing in the doorway of Yoongi’s office with a borderline hostile look plastered to their faces. It startled you how similar the duo looked in that moment, they didn’t look like themselves. It was like something else had taken over, a dark force that hadn’t been there moments before. It was making you uncomfortable, a tremor quaking through your body.
“You. Office. Now.” Yoongi snapped, swinging the door open and pointing into the room behind him. The stranger quickly scrambled over to him and into the room, but not before Yoongi sent Jungkook a knowing look, their eyes seeming to glaze over as they sauntered in after him. You had never seen Jungkook look like that, the kid you affectionately looked after had suddenly become a man you didn’t want to anger. The familiar weight of fear settled deep in your chest, something wasn’t right here. But there was a bigger part of you that told you it would be better if you didn’t follow after them when that door swung shut.
It wasn’t long before Yoongi left his office, you noticed his clothes didn’t look immaculate like they normally did. His jacket was missing and his sleeves were rolled up to reveal the alabaster skin of his forearms. There hadn’t been a time where you saw him looking this casual.
“Your lunch break is now right? Come with me.” His voice made it evident that it was a demand, not an offer. But still you tried.
“It’s alright, I’m just going to go to the cafeteria and -”
“(Y/N), let’s go.” He said, his voice lower and his gaze dark. Yoongi never spoke to you like that, ever. And it was terrifying.
You nodded in affirmation and went to stand, quickly groaning in pain as the baby violently kicked out its limbs inside of you. You took a deep breath, leaning over onto the desk and gripping it tightly as you waited for it to pass.
“(Y/N)?!” Yoongi cried, running forward to lower his hand on your back, his demeanor had completely changed.
“I’m fine, I’m fine,” You grunted, “Baby’s kicking.”
A new look passed over Yoongi’s face, one of excitement as he unexpectedly crouched down and rested his hands on your belly. You winced in discomfort at the unexpected action, but didn’t push him away as the baby kept moving and hitting all the wrong parts of you. You were annoyed to say the least as he broke your personal bubble, but at this point you were too focused on what was happening inside of you to chew him out.
Yoongi was beyond ecstatic. Even though he had just learned some…undesirable news, this was enough to swing his mood. At this point, it seemed he had almost completely deluded himself into believing that this baby was his. His thumbs gently swiped over the stretch of skin as he felt the little baby push back at his probing fingers. He couldn’t wait until the baby was born, he couldn’t wait to find out whether it was a boy or a girl, and he couldn’t wait to be a daddy. He had to hold himself back from cooing at the sweet infant that so obviously wanted his attention, that was reaching out for its mommy and daddy. He knew in that moment that no one could take better care of the two of you than him. And his plan would have to be rushed out now so that he could finally get what he wanted in light of the new circumstances. Once the baby settled down he stood and grabbed your hand, guiding you away from your desk and towards the elevator.
You knew at this point it was useless to try and stop Yoongi, if he wanted to take you out then he would. It was something he had done a couple times now, and each time it felt like it was bordering on a date. But you thought that maybe you were misunderstanding, he was your boss and he couldn’t do something like that even if he wanted to. You thought maybe you were imagining things, maybe his charming face had been affecting you like it once had months ago at Omela’s.
The drive the two of you took was rather brief, and to your confusion you were pulling up to some high end apartments that you could never even dream to afford.
“Yoongi, what are we doing here? I thought we were getting lunch?” You asked, your stomach growling in response to the thought.
“We are, I just need to pick up some things I left in my flat.” He replied coolly, exiting and rounding the car to help you out of the passenger side. And at the time, you hadn’t felt like anything was off. It seemed reasonable that he would need to make a quick stop. In that moment, your instincts had failed you.
Before you knew it, you were standing outside of the door to Yoongi’s flat. Maybe the word flat was underestimating things. When you had entered, you thought you were in a house instead of an apartment. In fact, you were sure twenty of your apartments could fit into his home. It was insane, you could feel your bank account shivering knowing that his place cost more than your life.
“Follow me, I have something you need to see.” He called from ahead of you, that sweet gummy smile fixed perfectly to his face. Without hesitation you followed him, expecting to see something work related that he needed you to review. Instead, you entered a room. This room was painted a soft yellow and filled to the brim with children toys of all different kinds. There was an expensive crib, changing table, and dresser in the room that looked brand new. The room would be perfect for a newborn, and in fact it looked eerily similar to all the items you had tabbed in your browser. Chills began to run down your spine as you felt him approach you from behind, his hands settling lightly on the bump of your stomach. You could feel your chest tightening as air struggled to enter your lungs, your heart pounding violently in your chest. Why did he have this here? Why did he bring you here? Why was he cradling your swollen stomach like it was the most precious thing in the entire world?
“What do you think? He cooed, stroking the flesh of your belly as he softly rocked you from side to side. “I’ve been putting it together for a few months now, collecting little things here and there for the little guy.”
Your body began to shake as you saw a framed picture of your sonogram hanging above the dresser. How had he gotten that? You had only taken one copy and it was in your purse that was in his car. Had he gotten it from your doctor? That should be impossible, and it was fucking terrifying.
“I wanted everything to be perfect when our baby comes.” He sighed, a blissful smile gracing his lips as you shook in his grasp. You ripped his hands away from you and ran from the room as safely and quickly as you could, running for the front door. You only made it to the kitchen before he caught up to you and pulled you back into his grasp, pinning you to the kitchen counter.
“What’s wrong?” He asked, he seemed genuinely confused and that made everything even worse. “If you don’t like it we can change it, we still have three months before the baby comes.”
“Yoongi! You are not the father!” You cried, desperately trying to wriggle away from his tight hold.
“Yes, I am.” He replied, his jaw clenched in irritation as you tried to break free from him. “Calm the fuck down, (Y/N). All I want is to take care of you and take care of our child, something your parents never did for you.”
Your body stilled in fright as he spoke, speaking of things you had never told anyone.
“You had a really shitty childhood, didn’t you? Never got to have anything that all the other kids did. No, you had a mother who preferred drugs over you and a father that was checked out. What was it your mother said to you, tell me because I know you know.”
You mumbled a response as tears began to run down your face.
“C’mon, baby. Tell me what she said.” He cooed, tightening his arms around you.
“She should of had an abortion.” You choked out, the pain from your past blending into a beautiful chaos with the fear of the present. “That I was a waste of space, that I should have never been born.”
“My poor baby.” He sighed, stroking your hair as your body continued to tremble in his hold. “But you did the right thing, didn’t you? You couldn’t get rid of our baby, not after that.”
You began shoving at his chest, trying to get him as far away as possible. “Let go! You’re fucking crazy, Yoongi! This isn’t your baby, I’m not yours, and I don’t ever want to be!”
“Shut your fucking mouth.” He growled, catching your chin and forcing you to look into his eyes. “The only reason I am not bending you over this counter and fucking you back into your place is because of this.” He said, his voice dripping with venom as his hand came to cradle your baby once again sending your heart crashing into your stomach. “I did not go through all of this shit for you to behave this way. I had to hire those fucking idiots to rob your store to get you close enough to me, get Kook to keep and eye on you, and keep that fucking excuse of a brother of mine away from you. He’s a fucking idiot that left you all alone, that got to have you in every way I wanted but fucking left you like a piece of trash.” He spat, his eyes darkening with rage.
“Your- your brother is the fathe-”
“Don’t fucking say it!” He yelled, his grip tightening even more on you as your eyes widened in shock. “He didn’t deserve you! But don’t worry about him, Kook and I took care of him and he won’t be bothering you, me, or our baby ever again.”
You could feel the blood leave your face, your whole body breaking down at the implications of what he had said. He had set you up, he had manipulated you this whole time into doing exactly what he wanted and you never stood a chance. Not to mention there was the great chance he had done something horrible to his own brother, for you. You were stuck, anything you could do to try and escape him would endanger the innocent life resting inside of you. You tried your hardest to think logically through the fear, the only way you could see yourself and your baby being free from him, were if you gave birth and made run for it. That is of course if he planned on taking you to a hospital, but Yoongi was powerful and wealthy, and whatever he wanted he got. And that included you. Your body fell limp against him as you resigned yourself to your fate, but there was a still a spark inside of you, something that told you you would never stop resisting him. That one day, you would run free from him and he would be left in the dust, he would finally be the one left with nothing. You were scared, but you were determined. He thought he was in control, but little did he know you would be plotting even if took the rest of your life.
Yoongi, although deluded and obsessed, was not stupid and he knew exactly what you were thinking. He knew that this would be the start of a long game of cat and mouse and that excited him to no end. He smirked as he continued to stroke the flesh of your stomach through your shirt, leaning forward to press a smooth kiss to your forehead as his heart pounded in time with yours, one with resounding fear and the other with a sickening, twisted love.
“Don’t worry, baby. Let daddy take care of everything.”
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Everything on this blog is yandere! ♡ prev. darlingtaes 🍓
Kim Namjoon ⭐
coming soon! ♡
Kim Seokjin ⭐
Jung Hoseok ⭐
Min Yoongi ⭐
Park Jimin ⭐
The Scent of a Flower
Kim Taehyung ⭐
Honey and Milk
Shadows ft. JJK
Jeon Jungkook ⭐
Brother Knows Best | Pt 1 | Pt 2 coming soon!
Shadows ft. KTH
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pairings. yandere!yoongi x f!reader
synopsis. the evening comes quickly and you’re asleep on your bed. your room, dark with just the dim shine of the moon, hears your faint breaths and the occasional twists of your blanket. there’s a sound outside, a thud or two, and a faint creak. then, slowly… very, very slowly… your window begins to lift.
genre. next door neighbor au. age gap (oc is 20, yoongi is 28). virgin!reader. suspense.
word count. 7.2k
warnings. smut (fingering/foreplay, m masterbation). noncon kissing and touching (oc is asleep). somnophilia. soft dom!yoongi. inexperienced!reader. physical abuse (mother slaps oc multiple times). emotional abuse. over-controlling parenting. toxic household. manipulation. murder. blood. gore. obsessive behavior. delusional behavior. allusion to kidnapping. yoongi smokes. he also puts out the cigarette with his tongue so that’s cool. he also has tattoos so that’s hot. but he’s also lowkey creepy so… anyways, enjoy!
first greetings were always hard for you. your overprotective mother didn’t enjoy it when you met new people, always fearing that they’d have a bad influence on you. she didn’t know that you weren’t going on a short walk like you said; she didn’t know that you were too curious about your new neighbor next door.
he stands on his porch, phone in hand and cigarette in the other. its end touches his lips as he scrolls through his feed, and the smoke that he exhales fascinates you almost as much as the tattoos on his arms, the simple white t-shirt and black jean outfit he bears, and the silver peace sign necklace on his neck. there are a few shiny earrings that dangle from his pierced ears. all the houses on this street look relatively the same; medium-sized and conservative; but the mysterious man’s presence makes his place seem so far apart. mother didn’t like that. unlike you, she didn’t stare at him with awe when the two of you first saw him carrying boxes into his house; instead, she scoffed and made you promise to never get near him, as he looked ‘dangerous’ in her eyes. she has taught you to listen and never talk back, she’s trained you to be content with the lonely life you have with her, but she hasn’t gotten rid of that inquisitive nature of yours.
you peer at him behind a thick tree. your mind tells yourself that the next hesitant step forward is a true one, that you should say hello without a second thought, but you can’t, not when first greetings are so hard for you.
but your nervous feet cause a rustle in the autumn leaves below you, loud enough for your neighbor to hear. he looks your way.
like a squirrel in hiding, you swiftly move to conceal yourself with the trunk. an anxious gulp is forced down your throat and you think about running back to the safety of your house, but the man talks before you can begin a sprint.
“hey, don’t be scared.”
his voice is deep; makes your breath catch in your throat as you stare at the brown bark before you. you don’t mean to be rude by not saying anything back, but your neighbor doesn’t seem to mind.
“you can come out,” he says with a comforting tone, “you want to meet me, no?”
after a second of silence, you lean to reveal half of your face. he smiles at you while you step from the tree and stand awkwardly. “hey,” it’s the second time he says it. it’s the greeting that expects an answer.
“... hi.” your words are small, your head is turned down, and your fingers fiddle with the bottom hem of your romper. from the corner of your eye, you catch him beckoning you to come with a motion of his cigarette hand. the ashes fall from the stick to the wooden ground before you slowly walk up to him.
by the time you’re at the stairs of his porch, his phone is in his back pocket and he props his arms on its railing. “what’s your name?” he asks, earning your first title in response. he hums with the stick to his mouth and a gaze flickering a quick up and down your body. “and how old are you?”
another satisfied hum, another puff of smoke.
you’re not sure if you should ask him the same, but your curiosity reminds your of why you came here in the first place. “wh.. what about you?”
“yoongi. min yoongi. i’m twenty-eight.”
his age takes you by surprise. he looks nothing close to that; looks as if he’s nearing twenty-five with his flawless skin, pretty pink lips, casually done hair. that slightly broad chest, those veiny hands, the rings on his fingers. he’s so attractive, and you stare without realizing that you’re checking him out. you let out an “oh” that trails off.
amusement traces his pupils as he parrots in a question, “oh?”
“oh, um.. you just seem younger than i thought…”
his laugh is soft, boyish, makes you feel flustered, makes you look anywhere other than his smile and you decide to land on the art on his arm. there’s a snake around his bicep, poems of words, a flower or two, and so much more, a few that trail up under his sleeve; they’re all so beautiful, so mesmerizing. your neighbor notices your stare at his inked arm, “you want a closer look?”
a curt nod is given at the invitation. you walk up the stairs and round the pillar between the two of you, meeting eyes with him one more time as he watches you get closer. he’s turned around now, leaning back on the wood and smiling to himself when you widen your eyes in wonder at the extension of his limb. he puts the nicotine stick in between his middle and ring as he points to an intricate dagger on his forearm, “this one, inspired by a song i wrote with some friends.” his finger moves to the interestingly-fonted 28, “got this one on my birthday earlier this year.”
he shrugs. “just felt like it.” you’re impressed by the impulsiveness he recounts. “this,” he continues to the brown colored dog, “is holly. the most precious thing in the world.” he sees you smile at the puppy as if it’s barking to you. he asks, “you like that one the most?”
“.. it’s cute, but..” your pointer finger aims at a black spider crawling on a heart-shaped web. “i like that one a lot.”
the action has yoongi’s eyes twinkling with subtle delight. “yeah?” he says, “it’s my favorite, too.”
you watch him take a drag and he watches you back, smoke escaping his nostrils when he breathes out. the scent of the cigarette is foreign to you; it’s strong enough to cause a sudden cough. but you don’t hate it, you don’t hate it enough to leave, and he smirks at the thought. “ever thought about getting tattoos?”
you’ve always wanted one of your own, believing that they were so cool and so grown; of course, you never mentioned the idea to your mother. “oh..” your eyes drift to your house adjacent to his, “my mom wouldn’t like that…”
“hmm… she makes decisions for you?”
embarrassment heats at your neck before you defend yourself. “that’s just one of her rules if i’m under her roof.” one of her many, many rules; no tattoos, no driving, no finding a job, etc, etc.
“ever thought about moving out?”
“... i have, i just… i can’t...” your head hangs low as you stare at your sneakers, unsure as to why you’re giving this much information to a stranger. maybe it’s because you’ve had no one else to tell, no one else to possibly comfort you. “she doesn’t want me to. she’s not gonna let me.”
it’s quiet, save for the breeze that passes and plays with your hair. yoongi kills the spark in his stick by pressing its end to an ashtray and dropping it in the pan. the regret of spilling too much comes quick to settle in your stomach, especially when the frown on his face is evident as he lazily pushes himself off the rail and walks to his door. but before you can stumble down the stairs with frustration towards yourself and your running mouth, he speaks. “you wanna come in?” you stare at his hand on the handle, then to his standing figure, confusion on your rather blank face. “i got some songs i want to show you. maybe it'll make you feel better.” the trace of hope in his words is evident and has you taking a few hesitant steps toward the opening door. you look at him warily, and yoongi reassures you with a light hand on your back (the seemingly-insignificant action makes your face feel hot, makes your skin prickle with fluster). “don’t worry,” he says.
you don’t even have the time to cease your worry. your name is screeched behind you like an alarm. you and your neighbor turn to see a clearly distressed woman stomping your way, who grabs your wrist and yanks you back. “what do you think you’re doing?!” she says, yelling an octave too high and an interval too loud, “i told you not to—”
her words are put to a halt and a glare is sent to yoongi. he has his hands in his pockets and a tongue to his cheek. huffing, she drags you down the stairs, down the path home.
the opportunity for goodbyes is slain. you can only wave farewell to your new neighbor, who raises a hand in return. he watches with lidded eyes as you follow your mother, hand still bound to hers and feet still tripping on the pavement, until you disappear behind your front door that shuts with a slam.
the first slap hits hard. your face swings to the side, cheek stinging and eyes unconsciously tearing up at the impact. the both of you are at the entry of your mother’s house. the shoe rack next to your ankles hold her heels, her boots, her sandals; your only sneakers are on your feet and you stare down at them.
“that one’s for going against my words,” she says before delivering the second strike. it hurts more, making you shoot your palm to your face to soothe the pain. “and that one’s for lying to me. do you have any idea how worried i was when i checked your location?”
you bite your lip down. the protests beg to come out from your mouth, but you know better than to resist the lecture.
“i can’t believe you were with him when i specifically told you not to get near him. you could have gotten hurt! i’ve been raising you myself all these years and you continue to disrespect me?!” she waits for you to speak, only to command you on what to say. “what do you have to say for yourself?”
“... i’m sorry…”
an exhausted sigh falls from her and she puts her shoes up. “go to your room. i’ll call you when dinner’s almost ready,” she orders you as if you’re a child, “and you’re not allowed to leave the house until you understand your privilege.”
with that, she heads to the kitchen. the sounds of a stove turning on and dishes being moved is enough to hide your steps. you don’t bother turning on the lights as you make your way upstairs, towards the furthest room at the end of the hall. you hold the knob of your door and push, then close it behind you before you trudge to the bed.
your hand smoothes over the rails of its frame and moves to the mattress as you flop down, face first with a chest pressed to the sheets. turning over on your back, you reach your fingers for the lamp on your wooden nightstand. your room now illuminates with a dim glow. the porcelain figure on your very full bookshelf shines white. it’s a woman holding a baby, and she looks at her child with a loving smile.
no matter how bitter your heart is, no matter how long ago your mother gifted this to you, there was never enough grit in you to throw it away.
you slide off your bed and head to the window to open the blinds. the sun is setting behind the houses across the street and the leaves on the trees gently sway to the music of the wind. surprisingly, yoongi’s still outside, squatting down and petting a stray cat in his front yard. you don’t realize you’re watching until he catches sight of you, tilting his head up and standing.
again, you hide, hastily lowering yourself under the glass. but you don’t need his convincing to show yourself this time, rising up to see him wave. you give a shy wave back.
a casual smile traces his lips. his downward fingers illustrate a twisting action, as if he’s unscrewing something invisible, then his hand motions up with a palm facing the sky. your eyes blink before they move to the latch at the bottom of the aperture.
unlock your window.
you look at him once more as the pad of your thumb ghosts over the lock. the caution in your gut is pushed aside when you begin to turn it, but your courage is disrupted.
your mother calls your name, voice and steps becoming louder as she approaches your room from the hallway. “come down and help set up the table,” she says. the knob of your door begins to turn and you stand abruptly.
without a wave goodbye, you close the blinds before the entrance is open.
the evening comes quickly and you’re asleep on your bed. your room, dark with just the dim shine of the moon, hears your faint breaths and the occasional twists of your blanket.
there’s a sound outside, a thud or two, and a faint creak.
then, slowly… very, very slowly… your window begins to lift.
it’s stopped by the lock, and the silence that follows is loud.
there’s nothing else for the rest of the night.
on the days like these, when your mother goes to the office, you usually spend your isolated time reading, cleaning, doing anything to ignore the sluggish clock. today, you spend it watching your new neighbor. you haven’t been able to do so for the past few days because of the rain; the heavy rain that splattered onto the floor under your neighbor’s porch cover, the booming thunder that had you keeping the shutters closed tight, the violent weather that had your mother staying home and pushing back work. but today, there’s just a couple grey clouds covering the hanging sun in the sky. yoongi’s on his porch again, cigarette in between his fingers as he takes a drag. you sit at your window and peer through the glass. although it’s been some time since you’ve last seen him, you remember each of his features and every ridge of his face. he has on a sage jacket, green shirt, and washed jeans. he has his earrings and peace necklace on, too. they always seem to be on.
catching sight of you peeping at him , he steps down his stairs and waves.
you glance at your bedroom door and at the porcelain on the shelf despite your mother’s absence. then, you unlock your window and slide it open. the breath of outside air is refreshing, vivifying, nothing like the atmosphere of your prison. but even when being stuck inside isn’t much fun, it's not enough to make you regret meeting yoongi. the quick beat of your heart upon the sight of his smile tells you so. you try to give a smile back, though it’s tight-lipped and awkward. “hello,” you call, because you don’t know what else to say.
“hey,” he brings the stick to his mouth and walks closer, “under house arrest?”
“i guess you can call it that.”
smoke flows out of his frown. “sorry, didn’t think my invitation would have gotten you in this much trouble. i should’ve been more aware.”
“oh, no, don’t be sorry… it was my fault. i shouldn’t have been nosy…”
he’s in your front yard now, standing in the grass with his head tilted up to you. “nothing wrong with being curious,” he smirks. “besides, i’m pretty curious about you, too.” yoongi peeks behind him when the sky rumbles warningly; he doesn't see how shy you get at his words. he turns back. “guessing that i can’t get your number?” a slightly disappointed click of his tongue paired with a shrug is heard when you shake your head. your mother goes through your device every day, scrolling through the history and making sure the only contacts are hers. “that’s okay. until you can come out again, i’ll keep you company just like this.”
you nod timidly before the clouds grumble again. “thank you, mr. yoongi… i think you should head back. it’s starting to rain.” your fingers clutch the edges of the panels when the drizzle starts. “goodbye, for now.”
he grins back, ignoring the drops of rainfall putting out his cigarette. the warmth of his smile is almost enough to set it ablaze once more. “yoongi is fine. see you soon.”
even after you close the window to avoid the incoming storm, he stands there, staring at your room, letting the water wet his hair and his silver necklace.
every time you would open the window and signal that your mother has left for work, your (not so new anymore) neighbor would stroll over to your front yard for conversation. standing or sitting on the ground with a cigarette in his hand, he’d ask you about your day, and you’d ask about his. that soothing voice of his always comforted you. you’d sometimes hear the meow of the stray cat he’d bring over, or the melody of his laugh that made you giggle in response.
the freeze is enough to numb your senses. snow started falling last week, and the degrees on the thermometer have been declining ever since. yoongi shows up with a beanie and thicker clothes, but despite his promise of saying he’s warm, it’s not enough to keep him from shivering. and now that your mother’s on break, using her free time to check on you throughout the mornings and afternoons, the two of you are forced to have your interactions when it’s coldest: night.
heavy snowflakes descend from the sky as you say, “yoongi, please go inside, you’ll get s-sick!” you try not to be too loud in fear of waking up your guardian, but you can’t stop the noisy chatter of your teeth when a gust of wind blows through your open window.
the orange hue of the stick end brightens in his inhale. it’s in his mouth, as he has both hands stuck in the pockets of his jacket. “don’t worry, i won’t. i got this with me.” he pulls out his lighter and flicks it to create a tiny, tiny fire. “i came prepared.”
you want to cackle at his stupid joke, but you stifle your laugh with a hand to your mouth. a yawn unintentionally files through your lips; you still haven’t gotten used to the new schedule. “no, yoongi, i’m serious… we can see each other next monday. my mom is going back to work by that time.” a few days of waiting for the weather to get better should be bearable; after all, unlike you, he’s free to do what he desires. but the pout on his face tells you otherwise.
“... but i wanted to see you today,” he says, “you did too, right?”
mother nature interrupts your response by bringing in a harsh rush of air that almost tips yoongi to the floor. he sinks his foot further into the thick snow for balance. when he looks back up, you bite your lip in thought with a finger feeling the ridge of the framework. your neighbor is a stranger no more, and seeing him in this state because of his willpower to keep you company has you calling out, “y-yoongi… you can come up to my room.”
his eyes widen. “really?”
after earning a firm nod, he gives a big, toothy grin and hikes to the wall of your house.
then, without wasting a second, he climbs.
his feet find security on certain bricks as he grabs onto wooden pieces jutting out. his movements, agile like a cat, take him up to where you are with ease. you tell him to be careful, but it seems that he doesn’t need your reminder. soon, he’s gripping the shelf of the frame, letting out a smoky breath, and hoisting himself up. you stand to take a couple steps back, allowing for him to enter. the window is closed, the blows of cruel air are stopped, and yoongi turns to face you.
it’s the first time anyone other than your mother has been to your room, yet you don’t voice the realization. you don’t really need to, because it’s written in the way you stand stiff and gulp. “hi,” you breathe out.
he smiles, gaze flickering down to your large t-shirt and pajama shorts. “hey again— oh,” he takes the cigarette out his mouth and turns the burning end to his tongue sticking out. it pokes against the muscle a few times before twisting onto his taste buds, killing the sparks and letting him stuff the stick into the pockets of his jeans. an amused snicker files through his nose when he meets your shocked eyes bulging out. “sorry, thought it was the quickest way to put it out.”
“does it… does it hurt?”
he shrugs. “only stings a little after years of doing it.” his brows scrunch as he shakes his head. “tastes bad, though.”
your reaction to his stunt isn’t of disgust, but rather of intrigue. if anything, you’re severely impressed by his experience. yoongi seems to know so much, and a fleeting thought of yours wonders the level of his expertise in other areas. despite your awe, you yawn, mouth opening wide and exposing the back of your throat.
he guides you to your bed by the hand, asking, “tired?”
nodding groggily, you sit on the mattress and sense the guilt settling in your stomach. “i’m sorry. i didn’t think i would be so sleepy now because i took a nap earlier today… i...” you glance at the porcelain on your shelf, thinking of your mother and her rules. if you asked her one more time, would she allow you some freedom? “i wish we could do this freely. out in the open.”
“don’t be sorry. being here with you is enough for me.” he helps you get under the thick blankets and fluff up your pillow. then, he stares at your eyes struggling to stop themselves from fluttering shut. “thank you for letting me in.”
sleep overtakes you before you can acknowledge his gratitude. he doesn’t seem to mind, though, pulling his hand up to your head to gently brush your hair.
yoongi passes the next hour by walking around your cozy room. the furniture looks to be used for a decade or so, bearing some scratches and scribbles on their white surfaces. your bookshelf towers over him, its books neatly organized into sections by genre, and your desk has a journal on it. he opens it without hesitation, smiling when he sees some doodles of butterflies. a couple of photo frames on the wall catch his eye; some are of you as a child, others are of you in your teenage years. as you grow older in each picture, your grin fades more and more.
he turns his head to your slumbering state. you’re in deep sleep, little snores filing out your nose and cheek pressed against the cushioning. he comes back up to the side of the bed with lidded eyes boring into the image of your unconscious body. he sits on the mattress once more, his fingers tentatively fiddling with the blanket before he carefully lifts it up. after lingering his gaze on your legs, he watches your expression and reaches under to touch your thighs.
you make no significant reaction, just a tiny hum is heard, and he slides his hand up the skin until it arrives at your shorts. he palms your ass and gives a small squeeze, then, he moves to cup between your legs. the shiver that circulates in you makes his erection stir.
the material of your shorts are thin, but your panties are thinner. his fingers can trace your untouched pussy through both articles of clothing and he unzips himself at the feeling. when he leans his face into the crook of your neck, your scent makes his cock harden more. his free hand fists up and down his length, movements desperate, but his breath remains calm and silent. waking you up like this, with his fingers at your intimate parts, with his other ones at his exposed cock, is undesirable.
but what if you awaken, and yoongi is forced to fuck you now that he’s gone this far?
his slightly burned tongue licks your neck as he quickens his jerk, still touching you dirtily with more strokes of your clit. you unconsciously squirm, body sending a message and mind somewhere else. your thighs tighten around his hold as he massages you harder. it’s almost inaudible, but the moan you give him makes him come. “shhit!” he whispers, brows scrunching and fist tugging until his jeans are coated with white. some of his arousal got on the floor, but he’ll clean that once his breathing evens out. for now, he’s busy calming from his high while watching your dreaming expression.
he kisses you, softly, his eyes closing and his lips connecting with yours.
your first kiss, taken by your neighbor as your sleep.
he moves his mouth to peck your forehead. “goodnight,” he murmurs.
by the time you wake, there’s no yoongi; there’s no neighbor. there’s only the window that isn’t closed all the way, a jacket rests on top of your blanket for extra warmth, and the smell of nicotine mixed with his cologne.
the snow has melted and spring has come faster than you’d expected. time flies when you’re with the ones you cherish, and yoongi made that statement seem so real. even when the sunny weather is perfect for him to stand outside your window like he did before, you’d often find him lounging on your bed with one of your chapter books open in his hand, or him flipping through your doodle journal before snickering when you abashedly snatched it from his grasps. you don’t remember the last time you stuttered in front of him, nor the last time you hid from his gaze as he watched you talk under the light of the moon from the glass opening. the only instance where you turned your back to him was when he drew that beautiful butterfly on your nape using a permanent marker.
you touch the pseudo tattoo as you sit at dinner, a plate full of food before you and your mother eating her own meal across the table. you inhale, then speak. “m-mom?”
she takes a bite. “yes?”
you want to do the same, but knowing that it’s hard to swallow your own saliva, you decide to keep nothing in your mouth, even your words. “i… i would like to have more freedom.”
the silverware in your mother’s hands is dropped to the floor, clattering against the ground as she says, “i heard you wrong, could you repeat what you said?”
your mother never hears anything wrong with her sharp ears; she only uses that phrase as a warning. but despite the truth, you tell her, “i would like for you to grant me more freedom… please.”
the belated act of politeness isn’t enough to stop the anger from rising to her face. “you have enough freedom. i allow you to roam around the neighborhood and-”
“that’s all you let me do! i’m already twenty, i’m an adult!” your breath is heavy and so is your gut when she shoots up from her chair, but you continue: “i feel trapped, i can’t experience life when you treat me like this! please, mom, just let me-”
this is the hardest she’s ever hit you, and you stumble to the ground at the impact.
“you deserve a hundred slaps for talking back to me,” she seethes with a hand raised high, “this is because of that man, isn’t it?! he’s the one influencing you, isn’t he?!”
“this is outrageous, he’s despicable! if the police don’t force him to move, we’re moving ourselves.”
“no! please, mom! don’t make us—”
the blows don't stop, no matter how much you plead, for your mother believes you as a disrespectful child who needs to learn her lesson.
when yoongi comes through the window during the late evening, he isn’t greeted by the smile you usually present. instead, he’s met with the sight of your body curled up on the bed, racking with sobs that are near silent. his grin is dropped immediately and he hastily shuts the the opening before dashing to your side. “what’s wrong?” he asks.
the answer doesn’t come in sentences, but in the form of you holding up your arms to let him see the sight of your battered skin. your eyes are puffy from neverending tears and the color of your cheeks are darker than ever. his jaw tightens with rage as he mutters, “that bitch…”
damn that impulsive nature of his, forcing him to swivel to the direction of the door. but before he can stride and do whatever his anger compels him to do, your hand snatches his sleeve.
“p-please!” you hiccup, “please… please stay…”
his expression softens and he sits next to you, petting your head with a mellow stroke. you lean into the motion like a whimpering puppy. “okay,” he says, quietly, as his lips lower to your arm, “i’ll stay.” pecks are put on the pelts, moving up to your sensitive cheeks. “i’ll stay with you.”
you’ve never had someone be this close to you; never had their nose touching yours nor their lips brushing against your cupid's bow. you’ve never had anyone made your tears dry this fast; never had your eyes closed as you ready yourself for something intimate to happen. yoongi takes the honor of ridding your inexperience by connecting the kiss.
it feels weird at first. you try not to be so amateur with your lips as he hums against your mouth, but you can’t help the small yelp when he darts his tongue out to swipe against your bottom lip. “open up,” he says in a low voice. you let him kiss you deeper while he moves himself onto you, his forearms by the sides of your head and his knees by the sides of your hips. one of his hands holds your face when he pulls back. you gasp and pant, earning a smirk from him. his thumb touches your wet lips and he stares at them.
“can i make you feel good?”
he lowers to kiss your jaw, then your neck, to which he swirls his tongue on your skin and suckles with a pop. your jittery hands clutch his shoulders as you squirm. “i can make you feel good, here,” he continues when your breath hitches at the sensation of your pussy being held, “can i do that?” you grind against his palm, shivering at the feeling until he says, “answer me.”
“y-yes,” you gasp out, “yes, please, yoongi, please.” you’ve never felt so lustful before, as your mother would constantly reminding you how horrible it is to feel sexual tendencies, and you listened until some fantasies of yoongi would appear in your dreams late at night. for a second, you wonder if you’re dreaming about this, too, until the sudden coolness that hits your secret garden when he pulls down both your shorts and panties confirms that this is, indeed, real.
he gazes at you like one would to a flower; a flower that’s ready to bloom in the new season. he nudges your hand away when it shyly tries to cover you up. “don’t be shy,” he says, “you look beautiful.”
you’re not given the chance to act bashful at his compliment. he’s on his knees as he pulls his shirt off and throws it off the bed. now it’s your turn to stare.
there are too many tattoos that you haven’t seen before; one on the corner of his broad chest, some on his stomach, a few scattered on his skin. despite the variety, they all look amazing on him. parts of him you couldn’t see before, now in front of you. you would ask him to turn around to show the ones on the back if it weren’t for the intimacy in the atmosphere. “i like your tattoos.”
yoongi smiles and reaches to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “and i like yours, too.” he’s referring to the butterfly on your neck, ignoring the fact that it’s not real, or that it’s faded already.
he removes the rings on his fingers one by one, giving you an opportunity to inspect that hand, those long fingers, those veins running down his knuckles like you always do. while slicking his middle and ring fingers with his saliva, he spreads your legs before circling the pads around your entrance. you gasp, “y-yoongi…”
“you’re so wet,” he says, “do you touch yourself? when you’re alone?”
not often, you would. you’ve only ever played with the bud of your clit and nothing more. fingering always felt funny and you didn’t know how to make it feel good. your inexperience makes you look away from him as you wish to learn more. “... s-sometimes…” you lean your face to the side to let him trace his lips against your lobe. “i… i think of you.”
“yeah? you think of me when you touch yourself?” he prods at your drenched core, whispering with a deep voice in your ear. “i think of you, too.”
then, his fingers enter you. it’s a stretch that makes your hands shoot to your mouth to keep yourself from whimpering too loud. he curses at how tight you are, cock stirring at the thought of your walls clenching around him just like how they’re doing to his digits. he continues to push them and you continue to wince until his fingers are completely concealed within you. “does it hurt?” he asks, sighing in relief when you indecisively shake your head. “it’ll feel better soon. i promise.”
slowly, he pulls his digits out again to slide them back in, using a sluggish pace that has you whining with shivers. he reaches deeper than you could ever touch, rubbing against your sensitive areas and hitting the sweetest spot. yoongi’s promise is kept, because your legs twitch with pleasure when the heel of his palm continuously slaps at your clit with each thrust of his twisted fingers. he goes faster, harder, until he has to clamp his free hand onto your mouth to muffle your cries. your legs are spread wide and your knees are pushed to your chest, allowing for him to finger-fuck you so well.
his palm on your mouth loosens. “yeah?”
“feels— feels weird!”
it feels like you’ve swallowed a summer sun and it beams in your stomach, too hot to be resisted. there’s so much heat in your system, begging to be released; so much tension inside your lower regions, pleading to keep composure. what is this feeling, rising from your core to your ringing ears? why does it feel so weird, why does it feel so good? “puh-please, please, yoongi, feels— nghh! feels good!”
“feels good?” he says with his mouth parted open in a smirk. “feels good when i do this to you?”
“yes! y-yes, please— don’t stop—”
he obeys you, curling his fingers more and thrusting them into you with the speed that has your jaw dropping open in a silent moan, that has your body trembling and your toes curling, that has your eyes rolling up as you let go. you come, hard, so fucking hard that your arousal spills all over his digits and your cunt sucks them in so they stop moving. he watches your expression as he carefully takes out his fingers and slides them into his mouth. once they’re cleaned, they go back to massage your clit. you flinch at the overwhelming sensation, shaking your head with a plea to stop. he chuckles when you try to squirm away from his touch, but are unable to due to the limpness in your limbs. yoongi leans forward to kiss you deeply, then moves to trail his lips to your neck.
but when your head is turned to the side and your eyes see the shelf, the pleasure in you soon turns to a gut-wrenching feeling.
the porcelain figure beside your books shines despite the lack of light. the mother, staring down at her child with a loving smile, makes your heart stop.
then, with eyes tearing up, with a mouth frowning hard, you bawl.
yoongi pulls back with surprise. his hand covers your cries once again as he shushes you quietly. he lifts you so that you’re sitting up. “i’m sorry, did i hurt you?” his gaze looks all over to try to find where he might have squeezed too tight or held too hard, but the sobs that wrack in your body seem to be more from your emotions than physical pain.
“m-mom,” you manage to choke out and yoongi furrows his brows at the title, “yoongi, mom’s… she’s going to… she’s making us move…” you hiccup as his face falls, despair lacing his eyes. “please, yoongi, please don’t let her…” your sentence is left unfinished and hope is lost; what could your neighbor possibly do to stop her? he can’t, he can’t do anything.
you don’t see his expression when you bury your face into his chest, wetting it with hot tears. he pets your head, whispering words of comfort to you as your wails die down. it goes on like this for two hours until you murmur sorrows, body pressed against his as the two of you lay in bed under the blanket. you’re asleep, but yoongi’s eyes aren’t closed like yours. instead, he bores them into the figure on the shelf. carefully lifting your arms off him and tucking you into the cozy comforters, he stands. but unlike all the other nights from before, he doesn’t leave.
damn that impulsive nature of his. damn it to hell.
“don’t worry,” he says, leaning down to kiss your forehead, “i won’t let her.”
the crash that resonates throughout the house wakes you up.
the area where yoongi laid is cold, though you think that the sunny rays from outside could help heat you up. but to your surprise, darkness fills your room. turning on the lamp, you allow for the clock on your nightstand to read three in the morning. you rise from your bed, feeling yoongi’s shirt on the ground with your feet. he must have left it here. at least, you think it’s yoongi’s shirt; you’re unable to see clearly because of how puffy your eyes are.
but your other senses are heightened. there’s a blood-curdling scream that pierces the air and you jerk your head in its direction. the location, outside your room and in the hall. the high-pitched voice continues to shout and screech, and thuds sound about.
it’s your mother.
you head to your door; it’s not closed all the way, but that’s the least of your worries. right now, there could be a burglar targeting this house, there could be violence you’ll face once you exit the safety of your cage.
but before you come up with any other scenario formed from the paranoia that your mother ingrained in your brain, her cries stop. there’s a loud thud, then muffled thumps that make your heartbeat louden with fear.
you walk into the dim hall that grows darker the further you go, and the sounds of nonstop strikes grow louder and louder. by the time you’re in front of the room of the scene, facing the closed door, you can hear squelching noises from inside. holding your breath, you put a hand on the knob and slowly… very, very slowly… you turn and take a peek through the one-inch crack.
a person straddles your mother on the bed as they continue to pound a hard object into her bloody face, crimson flying everywhere with each hit. you can’t figure their identity clearly, as their backs are towards you. even so, you stare, watching the way your mother’s immobile body twitches with each blow. barely, you can see how her eyes are gouged out, how her teeth are busted in, how the skin of her neck is dented with strangled marks. terror cripples your thoughts as your organs twist with nausea. you might puke if you watch any longer, but what else is there to do when your mother is being killed right in front of your eyes? do you run? do you fight?
instead of doing either of the two, you move your gaze to the murderer’s nape, trying to make sense of the tiny wording, and your mouth parts in shock when it looks like the spelling of your name. then, you look to his arm.
that’s when you see them clearly.
the adrenaline rushes through your veins when your eyes land on the tattoos, focusing so hard that you can see every line and every splotch of ink.
your voice is a whisper, supposedly covered up by the violent and disturbing noises in the room, as you say to yourself, “yoongi?”
you should have kept quiet, you should have left without a word, because your neighbor immediately stops with the object held high. then, he gradually turns his head to see a slightly opened door and nothing more.
he doesn’t see you trembling as you stand to the side, back up against the wall and both palms clamped onto your mouth. you don’t see him, either, getting off the mattress and walking up to the entrance. but you hear him: step… step… step… you hear the moan of the door when it’s opened completely. you hear him coming closer, and closer, and closer. you have your head turned down, unable to move, unable to speak, unable to look up at your mother’s killer until he stands in front of you.
your eyes are trained on the bloody porcelain figure in his hands. its head is smashed off, leaving nothing of the loving it once had, leaving only the sharp rimming that craves for doom. your gaze trails up his veiny hands that grips the object tightly, the dagger with scarlet on the ends, to the twenty-eight soiled with red, to puppy staring at you with pity, to the spider on the web waiting to devour the butterfly.
finally, you reach his face. scarlet paints his skin, his lips stretch in a wide grin, his hair is slicked back.
your neighbor drops the porcelain figure and hugs your flaccid body passionately, “now that she’s sleeping for good, we can love each other without fear,” he sighs with delusion in his relief, “you don’t have to worry anymore.”
a second of silence passes, making him pull back to see your passed out state. he chuckles before pecking your cheek that’s wet with fresh tears. “tired?” he murmurs lovingly, “that’s okay. i’ll take you to my place so you can sleep better.” his kisses move all over your face; his lips land on your closed eyes, your lips parted with fright, and your sweating forehead.
note. well 🤠 what do u guys think 🤠 did u guys like it 🤠 if u did pls tell me cause that would make me very very happy ☺️ also consensual smut?!?! i finally wrote it after writing noncon nonstop?!?!?! and i’ve also realized that this is the first oneshot fic i’ve written where the yandere explicitly murders someone… what have i been doing for the past year here 🤨 and i made yoongi so likable until he pulled that shit in the end like 😐😐😐 i just gotta ruin it for everyone 😗 but … he still be sexy tho 😩 anyways, thank u so much for reading! hugs and kisses 💗 MWAH!
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