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yandere-society · 2 years
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How's y'all asses?
I'm pretty sure we're all alive! -👀
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yandere-society · 2 years
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Is this dead?? Lmao.
No, we're all just swamped 😔
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yandere-society · 3 years
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i wish y’all well!!! <3 i hope u guys are doing okay
Thank you! You too, darling! -👀
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yandere-society · 3 years
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Do you know if tumblr will purge fan accounts after post+ starts or will fan accounts only be at risk if they use post+? Sorry if you don’t know the answer, but I’m so confused
No clue! What happens, happens, I guess! - 👀
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yandere-society · 3 years
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😍😍😍- 👀
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yandere-society · 3 years
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hello! i'm just wondering if that net for bts dark fic writers is still around? i'm not sure what the exact name is but it's something about " bts dark fic net" or "bts dark net", thank you!
Not sure! The name doesn't ring a bell - 👀
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yandere-society · 3 years
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Can you please make a sequal or drabble for white elephant 👐 I just finished reading it and I'm already so curious
Hi, babe! We don't do sequels, but thanks for reading and enjoying! -👀
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yandere-society · 3 years
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Is this account still active?
Yes! Things have just been really crazy in our personal lives. There's some talk of doing another event so stay tuned! Thanks for being patient. -👀
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yandere-society · 3 years
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genuine question, is this blog dead? i have something i wanna ask for the admins 👉👈
we’re just on hiatus for a while since this semester is kicking our ass. But feel free to request smthg and we’ll try and get it done once we’re back~
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yandere-society · 3 years
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The Rabbit Hole
Summary: The Windy City in the mid-1920s is a spectacle of lights and sounds, roaring with the excitement of jazz music and swinging dance moves. Amid the brilliant stars of Chicago nightlife, there is a dark underground of secrets, mainly that being the mysterious Wonderland Ball you've been invited to participate in and be crowned the next "Alice". What you don't know is you may or may not be allowed to leave, per the Mad Hatter and a White Rabbit's desires. So, daring and brave as you are, you decide to take a journey down The Rabbit Hole and come face to face with high society - people - as you've never seen them before.
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Genre: Yandere; Historical Fiction/ Fantasy Based In The 1920′s; Smut; Thriller; Alice in Wonderland Inspired 
Warnings: Yandere themes, Mentions of drug/ alcohol use with/without consent, mentions of “gangsters”, light talks of selling your soul/ the devil/ religious “themes”?, sedative drugs used non-consensually, vivid dreams/nightmares, maybe light profanity? Smut: Non-protected sex (twice), creampies, oral sex (f and m receiving/giving), slight nipple play?, spanking, marking, bruising, slightly rough sex, use of a sex swing/ sex swing intercourse, f and m orgasms. I think that’s it. 
Pairings: Jeon Jungkook (White Rabbit) x Reader (Alice) x Kim Seokjin (Mad Hatter), Side Pairing of Johnny (Jonathan) Suh from NCT x Reader, Johnny x Jung Jaehyun from NCT.
Author’s Notes: This is not going to be a historically accurate piece. As much as I am an advocate for research and learning about the times of old, I am only human and I am short on time researching in between my full time job. I have grown up and currently live in Chicago and I have never written a story about the Windy City before so here I am, writing to you about the wonderful city I call home. I am doing my best to stay true to my writing as well as make it as accurate as one can, but please forgive me if there are faults in this story! 
We are not doing a collective Valentine’s Day event this year but the contents of this piece have been weighing heavily on my mind, so I asked if I could write this story for a little something-something. I hope you all enjoy it!
Written By: Admin 💖 @therealmintedmango​ 
Also, who do you think the other boys from BTS are from Alice in Wonderland in this story? I’d love to know! 
Stepping out of my very own vehicle my future husband’s family sent for me, I take in the sights and the sounds that Chicago provides this snowy afternoon. 
People waltz around one another and mingle about, snow crunching under their feet. The faint sounds of jingle bells float down the streets in the chilly air, it smells of popcorn and roasted nuts as well as the sludge of gasoline tainting the snow. A cold breeze gliding across the buildings nearly knocks me off my feet as I look up to my new place of residence, a new high-rise Michigan Ave. The stars above my head seem to sparkle in the dark sky, or are those just the electric lights from the grand buildings surrounding me? 
Curious, I think as I continue to have my sights set above the horizon. I’ve certainly strayed very far from the corn fields of back home. Inhaling the sharp, bitterly cold air around me, I feel a sense of dread almost wash over my senses. I knew what I was signing up for when I came here. Jonathan and I discussed it in great detail over the wire. 
The reality of the situation is finally sinking into my layers of clothing. 
Jonathan Suh, the grandson of Suh Realtor Industries Incorporated - which owns about one third of Chicago - has asked me to marry him. It was seemingly out of the blue too. I was going to spend the next years of my life trying to marry into the best livestock or vegetable farmer in town, not the filthy rich grandson in a large city. It felt like a dream when he called me and begged me to come as soon as possible. I suppose it pays off to be kind to everyone, especially when it felt like it was yesterday we were both in grammar school together. 
I drink it all in, the busy sounds, the cold night air that leaves me feeling bitter and raw standing in the street while snow begins to descend from the blackened sky. It feels foreign to me even though it’s only about two hours away from the farm. The breeze blistering in from the west sends a chill up my spine. 
This is a new beginning, I ponder to myself as I stretch upwards in the middle of the sidewalk. This is my chance at a better life, this is way better than being some poor, sad farm girl. That’s right! I’m going to be the wife of my childhood friend who just happened to be some rich playboy who has more money than he knows what to do with.
I’m going to be a Suh!
...Even if the whole arrangement is a sham...
“Miss, you are going to freeze to death outside!” Jonathan’s maids rush to usher me out of the cold quickly, but not before I accidentally bump into someone on the busy sidewalk. 
“I beg you to pardon me,” I mumble as I set my sights over my shoulder on a man dressed in a long coat with hair as white as the snow currently blanketing the ground. “You’ll have to forgive me, I am just enraptured with how bright Chicago seems to shine at night.” 
The man’s seemingly red eyes expand with my excitement, then soften. “No pardon to beg, Miss…?” He queries, a bloom of warmth spreading across his face.  
“Suh.” I smile as the men shout from my car they have finished unpacking. “Well, I am the future Mrs. Jonathan Suh. For now I suppose I am still Y/N Y/L/N.”
“Strange, I didn’t think he… Well, never mind that now.” His eyes linger on mine. “Johnny’s got good taste.” I hear him mumble under his breath in a deep tone, slurring his words together in a string. “Well, I can’t wait to see more of you, future Mrs. Jonathan Suh.” He says as he swings his coat behind himself and takes off down the street, the crowd and the night dissolving him like a pill in warm water. 
Curious and curiouser this night becomes, I think as the maids finally have enough of me standing about in the cold. 
“Do you know who that was?” I ask the hoard of them, hoping someone has the answer to my bump in the night with a rather odd fellow. My heart is beating but I’m not sure what for. I know my place. I know why he called me… My fate was sealed as soon as I got the wire from my future husband.
The collective flock shake their heads and mutter polite “noes” as they lead me up grand staircases of marble and through dim corridors at this time of night, leaving my brain a drifting piece of snow in the blizzard that will surely accumulate outside overnight. 
“Right this way.” A young redhead coos as she parades me up what must be my twentieth flight of stairs I’ve climbed this evening. “Master Suh will be so happy you are here at last!” They lead me into a beautiful room with the most lavish furniture I’ve ever seen in my life! Magazines and pictures certainly don’t bestow such fine items with quite the same honor as seeing such beauty in person. 
“Madam Suh has a full schedule for you this weekend.” One of the elderly looking women dares to swoon as she says, “Wedding planning, I’m sure, no doubt.” My coat is taken from me and I am given house slippers to wear. 
The flock - or really I should call them a herd of lemmings - all agree once more as a butler leads us through a hallway with objects of fine art, pottery, and paintings. Each item is so uniquely wonderful that it would make my brothers’ and sisters’ heads spin if they saw how perfect and polished everything is. How ornate and lavish! Am I to spend my life with fine, intricate pieces of art from all mediums? I wonder if Jonathan has created any of these himself? Would he allow me to paint? I wonder...
“Master Suh,” I inhale, realizing I am right at the threshold of a beautiful oak door. “Miss Y/N Y/L/N has arrived.” The butler announces. 
My body feels all fuzzy and nervous for some reason. It’s been many years since I’ve seen my dear friend from when we were still learning how to hop on a bicycle in the country where his family had a small house and property that butted up against my family’s by the little lake in the middle of a corn field. 
“Y/N!” A deep, refreshing voice purrs before he embraces me in a tight hug. “How was your ride? Did the car fair well, unlike the weather?” He chuckles as his tall frame dwarfs mine in comparison. The scent of him is most definitely cinnamon, scotch, and leather, which I’m not surprised. All fine things to smell of for certain. 
The maids all giggle and mumble their approval and the butlers look away, anxious to gaze upon a woman in another man’s arms. I suppose his gesture of a greeting is very rude, but I don’t mind. Being smack-dab in the middle of my siblings, I feel like nothing phases me anymore, even the hug Jonathan wraps around me. 
“Jonathan Suh,” I simper, pulling out of his embrace, “The ride was not too terrible, and my, how tall you’ve grown! And so dapper too.” I sigh earnestly. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.”
“I hope you say that every day you wake up and I am there beside you.” Jonathan’s brown eyes seem to daze in the glow from the lamp lights in the sitting parlor. 
There’s nothing more I hate than an arrogant flirt, not to mention an arrogant flirt with money is all the more trouble. Is this really going to be the rest of my life? Living with Jonathan like this? So contrived and fake… it makes my insides twist. 
“I am rather weary though from a day full of travels.” I pretend to yawn, shifting out of his arms bit by bit and heading toward the door. “May I have the delight in seeing you tomorrow?” 
“Oh yes, you must be quite tired. I always get sleepy on car rides.’ Jonathan muses as he extends his hand to the door and the staff scramble into place. “Mr. and Mrs. Alan would you please escort Y/N to her room? I will be here but on the other end of the house until we are...you know-” 
“Goodnight, Jonathan.” I say almost too quickly after that, leaving almost as swiftly as I’ve come. 
Once my hair is down and I am dressed comfortably in my nightgown, I feel like I can take a deep breath again. It feels odd with my hair unpinned, sitting in a brand-new nightgown, overlooking the rocking waves of the lake and the snow that drifts down from the sky. Basking in the sill of my window from the beautiful lights and moonlight shining through my velvet curtains, I hope and pray that every night I spend in Chicago is not as forced and fake as this one has been.
-
I’m chasing something odd in my dream. 
I move between pictures hanging on the walls, through the bellies of grandfather clocks, I emerge through the darkness every time, chasing a little white rabbit with a cottontail through or around objects of grand design. I have never had a dream that felt so vivid and real, like I am actually flying through my thoughts, time of the utmost essence for some unknown reason. I can’t seem to escape a dark feeling looming around me and I feel slightly frightened that I will not catch the little thing. 
When I reach for the little dumpling covered in pretty white fur, it lurches forward, propelling my desire to catch up to the little beast. 
I descend deeper and deeper, the spotlight in the darkness focused solely on the bunny ahead of me. I can’t reach him, I’m not fast enough, my feet do not carry me quick enough. I call to the animal but it doesn’t hear me, instead it flies between two large velvet curtains. 
“Please!” I beg the animal as I pop through the hole in the curtains, shuffling through on my knees. “Where are you taking…me…” My question dies in my throat as I look up to find red eyes, his curly blonde hair waving at me from under a gold top hat, a gold mask from that of a masquerade celebration covering most of his face. 
But, I know that soft smirk well now. I’ve replayed it several times already in my mind like the fool I am. 
This is the man I met on the sidewalk. I gasp. But, why is he inhabiting my dream?
“Welcome to Wonderland, Alice.” A soft voice wafts from high above the two of us, making me shiver. “We’ve been waiting for you.”
Why am I frightened? Surely this is not a nightmare. I was only following a rabbit and now I am here with these two men. 
Slowly, my eyes trail up the large mahogany platform, showcasing a very large, ornately plush gold and maroon seat which houses a man in an all green suit of the finest quality. He is also wearing a mask trimmed with greens and golds, his lush lips pinkened like he had just indulged in delicious raspberry jam pulled into a dark smirk. He sits with the side of his pale face in one of his hands, resting comfortably on the arm of the pretty chair. The man from the street sits on a swing that hangs high from the rafters, silently taking me in. An aura of power and class drips tastefully from every fiber of his being, weighing heavily upon me like he is a hammer and I am but a humble nail. 
“Good job chasing rabbits.” The man’s smile further stretches, his amber eyes boring down upon me, making my skin want to jump from my skeleton. “The next step is to find The Rabbit Hole.”
My eyes fling open, a train's loud horn blaring in the distance, the golden morning haze filtering from the curtains across the room. I jolt upward in bed, cold sweat beading my body, tainting the beautiful nightgown the Suhs have given me. I throw the sheets off my bed and clutch my forehead, musing the words of the man in all green over and over to myself in a frenzy. 
...What a dreadfully vivid dream...
-
I’ve been here for almost a week and I’ve lost count of the tea parties and luncheons I’ve attended with Mrs. Suh. The people and the houses and families they all belong to are getting lost to me in the wake of planning for a wedding. Though, I’m not sure how much I am actually planning. Merely pointing between two colors of table placemats and napkins or choosing between a flower or two. 
Tonight though, it is another snowy evening on the lakeshore, we are attending a jazz concert at the Sunset Cafe to see a wonderful show performed by the talented Cab Calloway and Louis Armstrong who make the most wonderful music. I was practically buzzing when I heard the news that the Suhs would be taking me this evening. As always, Jonathan and his mother have only two options for me to wear this evening and I must make a choice between them. A silver, more A-lined gown that shows off more skin than one should in the winter with a mink-fur cowl or more fluttering, off the shoulder velvet cobalt-blue style of a ball gown with embroidered golden stars falling from the bust in waves of tulle. 
Call me old fashioned, but I choose the one that makes me feel like a princess, not the one that makes me fit in. My thoughts wander between which Suh picked out which dress for me to wear and the dream of me chasing a white rabbit. 
I can never seem to catch that rabbit nor have I seen the two men since my first dream. It relieved me, but it also scared me. 
A shimmering laugh that is made of moonbeams and stars pulls me from my spell of thought that engrossed me.
The Suhs are dotting and cheerful people, always looking out for their only son in this cruel world. They are wonderful and powerful in their own ways, working the men and ladies in the sitting room of the theater with just a glance or smile of their lips. Mr. Suh smokes a cigar and smacks Jonathan on the back as they stand in the corner away from the ladies. Mrs. Suh includes me in all her conversations, never wanting me to feel lost or dissuaded from a million questions by another matriarch of a well-to-do family. 
I can see why Jonathan doesn’t want to disappoint them or the good people of his clan’s name before or after himself.  
The room is hazy from the smoky cigars that the men all drag on in between their elaborate conversations about President Coolidge and his beliefs while the women discuss lighter subjects such as traveling to Paris and Morocco as well as tennis. I find my thoughts up in the cloud of smoke that hangs in the room. 
“Pardon me, ladies,” Jonathan places a hand gently upon my shoulder, “may I steal Y/N away for a few moments?” 
“The concert will begin shortly, Johnny.” Mrs. Suh smiles, casting her charms to her son who smiles with reassurance to his dear mother. 
“Don’t fret, mother,” Jonathan grins as she calls him his nickname, “I want to show her off to my college chums.”
Her eyes twinkle in delightful mischief as she swirls her glass of sweet liquor in her hand. “Just be sure to return her in one piece. Y/N has a long day ahead of her tomorrow.” 
More wedding planning I’m not privy to I suppose? Such is my life now. High society is fun and all but the pressure is unlike anything I’ve ever felt before… No, my brain is captivated once more by the dark aura of the man from my dream, looming and lingering above me, teeth glimmering in the lim electric light of the room from my lucid dream. That was true, pure evil pressure I wish to never partake in the feeling of ever again. 
Jonathan says nothing as he turns from her, ushering me away with his hand placed gently on my shoulder. We move silently and quickly through groups who mingle and giggle, alcohol strong in their glasses and upon their breath as we pass through the crowd of rich socialites. 
We stop at one group of gentlemen, but I am only introduced to one handsome man named Jung Jaehyun who fondly shakes Jonathan’s hand and winks at me. What an odd fellow, I tell myself as we dive deeper and deeper into the crowd of people loitering in the fancy sitting room. 
“I’m glad you wore the one I picked out.” Jonathan says so low that I may only be able to hear his words. Well, that answers that question then. “These men might eat you alive, so stay as sharp as a blade but soft as a lamb, understand me? They will not leave me be until I introduce you to them.” 
“Are they your friends?” I query with a whisper as he pulls me to the edge of the room where young men have beautiful young ladies draped on their elbows. 
I have never seen a lady look like they do, but I suppose it is fashionable and “kept up with the times”. I am not so appealing as these ladies are with their skin on display and their heels high, they attract my attention before the men who hold them up do. Their makeup is dark, yet shimmering in the soft glow from the electric lights from above. The fair ladies’ hair is cut so short, their sideways hats and feather headbands merely slip off their sleek and shiny hairstyles. I am in awe of the way they look and envy them for behaving and chatting so freely. 
“Do not be scared, but they are budding gangsters who run speakeasies.” My eyes widen with his words, but I do what I am told. “Please do me another favor, Y/N, and become the most desirable woman here.” Jonathan whispers to me before we approach the hoard of people in front of me. “I will set you free from this cage as soon as I can.”
I can only nod as my demeanor switches like that of a light switch. 
Walking up to these men and women I’ve never met, I invoke the acting spirit of Jane West for Jonathan. I demand my attention. I am the most beautiful creature in this sitting room, if not all of the world. I did not go to college but I am going to show you how well read and cultured I am. I am going to be a Suh and I command you all to bow down to me in this instant. 
“Suh!” A tall man with coiffed, sandy blonde locks beams as he steps away from his fair darling on his arm tonight. “You dog! I didn’t think you’d grace us with your presence this evening!” They shake hands and laugh at nothing vigorously as I look between the two before the blonde catches my eye. They are pretty amber eyes that remain half-lidded and surely dazzle in the glow from chandeliers above. He’s not as tall as Jonathan, but he is handsome. “This must be-” 
“Y/N Y/L/N.” 
A voice from behind the blonde says clearly, setting to be free from the shadow of Jonathan’s friend. 
It’s the white rabbit! I think as I try to hold myself together. He looks rather dapper in a white and gold waistcoat with tails, a top hat making him appear to be as formal as one can be. This is the gentleman I bumped into the streets, but I cannot press out of my head. I want to tell him to stay out of my dreams, but I fear he will think me mad if I declare such a bold thing without expressing my thoughts further.  
“You know of my future bride, Jeon?” I feel the grip upon my shoulder tighten and breath being held from above me. Don’t fret, Jonathan, I would never tell anyone. I promise. Your secret is safe with me. 
The friend with his hair as white as the fallen snow looks at me passively, eyes rimmed red like he can’t sleep a wink either. “I met her on the sidewalk, John, but we’ve never been properly introduced.” He bows and takes my blue-colored gloved hand in his white ones. He kisses the top of my hand and in this ball gown-like dress I am indeed fulfilling my fantasy of pretending to be a beautiful princess. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, future Mrs. Jonathan Suh.” 
“Y/N,” Jonathan says, exhaling the concerned breath he’s been holding in, his grip returning to normal as well. “These are my friends from college: Mr. Kim Namjoon, whose family owns one third of the city like mine does, and Mr. Jeon Jungkook, who makes up the triangle of the most powerful families of Chicago.” 
“At your service.” Jungkook says with a cheeky grin stretching across his face, kissing the top of my hand once more. 
The way he looks up at me makes butterflies trapped in my body flutter and flounce about. But I cannot swoon or succumb to a young man so openly. Jonathan is counting on me. 
“I’m delighted to meet Jonathan’s friends from his schooling.” I say in the same charming manner Mrs. Suh has produced all week. 
“Forgive me for this is a bold question, future Mrs. Suh, but, will you be getting a gown made?” Namjoon asks me as he sips his scotch on the rocks.
“I think tomorrow I am going for a fitting, yes.” I nod my head, smiling just the right amount. 
“Then it should be crafted by the finest in the Windy City, Kim’s Couture on the corner of Washington and LaSalle Street. Have you heard of the establishment before?” Namjoon queries.
“Indeed! I have!” I exclaim happily, my eyes wide as his stay half-lidded as though he is sleepy, though he smiles earnestly. 
“Then I must insist you have a treasured wedding gown made by my seamstresses.” He hands me a white business card with only his name upon it. I stare at it until he taps it twice. “They will take excellent care of you, I promise.” 
“Oh-ho!” A soft, almost melliferous voice rings out behind me. No... “This must be the infamous bride-to-be!” I know this voice! Fear rattles through me, making me tremble as I look over the shoulder Jonathan is not draped over to look at the mysterious voice. Time is slow as molasses as I face the man from my dream, clad all in a green waistcoat, vest, and top hat, wolfishly grinning at me. 
“Ah, this is my eldest brother,” Namjoon muses as the electric lights flash, indicating the performance will begin soon, “Seokjin Kim.” 
Kim Seokjin...
I feel like I know everything about this man yet nothing at all. He is the type of man who is a brilliant summer on the outside and stormy winter on the inside. The smile on his lips - that is the color of the inside of a cherry tart - is warm, yet cold all in the same breath. He appears to be a powerful man of high class, wrapped in an enigma of grace and power. But there is a scent of something malicious in the air as he closes the gap between us and gets down on his knee to kiss upon my hand. 
I’m not sure what made me do it, but something comes over me, the flight or fight instinct animals possess lurches out of me in this moment.  
“Why is a raven like a writing desk?” I ask, pulling my arm away from him.
Seokjin’s bright amber eyes slowly travel up my ball gown, disbelief and confusion colors his good looking features. 
Mouths open in shock and my heart drops, but I feign a lie, turning out of Jonathan grasp, and quickly say, “Forgive me, for I feel faint.” I run to the bathroom in the hall as everyone piles into the main room of the Sunset Cafe, heart pounding in my chest and cheeks on fire. 
I’m so sorry Jonathan, I did not mean to make a fool out of you. There is just something about the way Seokjin’s gaze is so feral that chills me to the bone. 
A hand rests upon Jungkook’s shoulder while he continues to longingly gaze at the door as if he was willing me to come back with his mind. “Don’t worry, Jeon.” Seokjin purrs in his ear, amber gleam set upon the door. “She is the one who chases you every night, not the other way around.” 
“I know, hyung.” Jungkook whispers as the brass begins to trumpet through the building. “When do we make our move?” 
“Soon.” Seokjin chuckles darkly, guiding the younger of the boys to follow behind him. “Very soon we will have our glorious tea party.” 
-
The subject of marriage has always been an odd one to me, I think to myself as maids and fashion consultants from the Kim’s dress boutique flutter and coo around me.  
My parents married but it was never for love. I knew that, my siblings and myself knew that, yet they both loved us all the same. My mother and father married as more of a “good match on paper” sort of situation, than they were truly, madly in love. Still, they never fought, my father never hit my mother, never drank himself silly, never talked to another woman. My mother upheld the same standard and raised us all with love in her hardworking heart. I knew she was aware that I haven’t spoken to Jonathan since we were young children and that I would soon be in the same boat if I accepted his offer. 
“A lifetime of money doesn’t equal happiness.” She told me. “You should marry for love, not for any green or gold.” 
I agree. I know this full well. I’m not one to be stingy or greedy by any means. I don’t want to be an actress in a picture show or model for a beautiful Channel garment. And though I do want love in my life, I want a secure future. I am the middle child of middle-class farmers. The best match I could have made besides this one was with a cattle farmer or a man who works in the stockyards on the south side of Chicago. 
It’s selfish for me to do this not only for myself but to my mother as well. 
But, I am here and like my family, I will be fiercely loyal to the man I will call my husband. If not, call me a bold-faced liar and take me and my words to the grave. 
Jonathan Suh is not a bad man for who he prefers in the sheets. I know that and have never felt such a way to treat someone less of me if they do prefer the company of one sex over another. I will not break the promise I’ve made to him, but I cannot help but feel like a songbird trapped in a tight, metal cage for the decision I’ve made to help him. 
-
Due to the poor weather Chicago has currently come down with, the wedding has been postponed until further notice. 
When I wired my family to tell them the news, my mother answered. I was a bit more than surprised that she almost sounded relieved when I told her the news. I promised I would wire soon and my younger sisters begged me to take them to the city to go shopping at Marshall Fields. My father sounded passive at first when the telephone wire was transferred to him by my youngest brother after he told me the family cat, Cheshire, had gone missing. 
Truth be told, I am also more than happy to exhale a breath and not worry about someone questioning me about my upbringing. Or having Mrs. Suh and the don of high-class ladies and waist-coated men galloping around every breath I take. 
I can finally relax, I think as I pull out a book in the study as Jonathan reads the Chicago Tribune on the couch across the way from me. We get along well, I realize. Silence suits us both. No tricks, not faking our way through hordes of important people. We have to conserve and save our energy for when we face the people mercilessly wanting to know everything and anything about us, good ole’ Jonathan and I... 
No, not Jonathan anymore… I am to be his wife, and he...my…
I peer at him from over my book on flowers, losing interest in the pages. 
Can I really pretend we are to be an item forever? Will one of us crack or slip up? It seems like we are stuck in a circle now, both of us floating in a pool of choices we will surely drown in.
Tap. Tap. Tap. 
Someone knocks at the door, plucking me from my fever of thoughts. I fully peer over the pages in my hands, pretending like I was in fact engrossed in the origin story of an author I enjoyed as a girl. 
“Enter.” Jonathan says without skipping a beat, not looking up from his black and white ink. His eyes scan the pages, following the drumming beat of the grandfather clock next to the roaring fireplace. But, now that I study him closer, I’m unsure if he was actually reading or just musing to himself like I was moments ago.  
“The post, sir.” Butler James reports as he opens the door, my handmaiden Emily gliding up to us with a silver plate in her hands. 
“Thank you, Emily.” Jonathan gives her a half-smile as he takes the single envelope off the tray, slicing it open with trepidation.  
I look at the blood-red colored wax seal as he flips the paper, revealing a knight chess piece glaring upside down at me. 
Jonathan scans the letter passively at first, his orbs lazily scanning the pages, then suddenly his eyes ignite with rage behind them. “No.” He says softly, red flushing to his handsome face. He rips the paper up into shreds then, aggression and hatred oozing from every pore for some unknown reason. He gets up as he throws the scraps in the fire with vigor as butler James, Emily, and I all stare at him like he’s grown a second head. “Don’t you dare go.” He warns me, irises blaring with unmeasurable loathing. “Those people are dangerous.” Jonathan practically snarls as he exits the room in a fit of rage, stomping down the hall as we look on stunned and slack-jawed at what had just happened. 
From what I can tell, Jonathan isn’t one to get upset easily or lash out so that letter must have set him off. But what could it have been?
It really has sparked my curiosity, that’s for certain. 
Where wasn’t I supposed to go and who was so dangerous?
-
I got the answer the next day as I read a book about traveling the jungles of South America. 
“Miss!” My handmaiden whispers like a hiss as she enters the study. “Miss!” 
“Yes, Emily?” I smile, putting my book down as she flutters to my side in a nervous frenzy. “What is the matter?” 
“I snagged this from the post, miss.” She hands you the letter you saw the previous day with Jonathan, the one that he got enraged over.  “Please open it quickly, miss, before the butler spots it! They want us to destroy anything with this seal on it!”
I do as I am told, opening up the letter addressed to both Jonathan and myself with the odd wax seal to find an invitation inside.
You Are Cordially Invited To Participate In:
THE WONDERLAND BALL 
A Masquerade Party To Determine The Next “Alice”
For Directions Follow Us Down The Rabbit Hole 
Knock Thrice For The Door Mouse To Let You Inside
Cheers, 
                                      The ‘Mad Hatter’ & Company
“How curious...” I muse as my eyes trail over the letter over and over, wondering what has Jonathan all in a panicked rage. “Well, I don’t even know where “The Rabbit Hole” is so I shan’t be going.” 
“Tis’ a speakeasy, Miss.” Emily says her eyes wide as she reads the paper with you. “They say it’s the most fun one in all of downtown!” She giggles. “Shall I fetch you a gown for the ball?” 
“No.” I shake my head with a small smile, hanging her back the letter. “If Jonathan said he doesn’t want me to go, I won’t.” I pick up my book as she slightly deflates, wanting to paint me up for the festivities I was invited to. “Please burn this now, Emily, so you don’t get in trouble.”
“Right away, Miss.” Emily bows a little before she heads out of the room, leaving me to daydream in the middle of the study in peace. 
-
“How long must we wait?” Jungkook pesters Seokjin tirelessly who looks down from his wooden pedestal in the back room of the very peculiar club. “I am afraid a letter and her dreams are not going to cut it.” Jungkook snorts, frustration flashing in his red eyes. 
“Mm, yes…” Seokjin rubs his chin with his white gloved hand, “Johnny boy has been hiding our little Alice away from our prying eyes, hasn’t he?”
“Yes!” Jungkook stomps his foot like that of a child, fists balled into tight fists at his sides. “And I was promised a maiden for all the hard work I’ve done for you!” 
Seokjin laughs darkly then, the sound echoing off the walls of his private chambers. “Jungkook, I’m not sure if you understand that poisoning people and taking out a few smaller families in our beloved city is considered hard work.” He stops then, Seokjin’s usually light voice dripping with malice when he says, “But, I suppose this is one way to end the Suhs and get the last jewel on the crown you are desiring in your attempts to rule the city.” 
“Is everything in place for the ball?” Jungkook grits his teeth as he stares up into the man who could end him in one go, but is choosing to help the young gangster. “Your magic won’t fail us now?”
Seokjin winks at him, spending him a flying kiss as he says, “It's going to be dreadfully delightful.” Ending the Suhs, managing to take out some more people in big crime families in Chicago, and adding one more perfect woman to his growing collection of pawns. 
Sure, he was mad and about to destroy several lives in the process, but hell if he wasn’t half brilliant and good looking while doing so. 
-
“Mr. Jeon!” I gasp as I peer at the man at my penthouse doorstep, covered in white flakes of heavy, wet snow sticking to his black trench coat and bowler hat. Everyone, even most of the maids were out this afternoon which is why I find myself in front of the door to the penthouse. 
“Good evening, Y/L/N.” Jeon Jungkook smiles as he looks down at me earnestly. “Is your future husband not at home?” He whispers as he looks around the empty foyer, red-rimmed eyes glancing over the dim electric lights in the hallway. 
I flush. My mind was hazy remembering my kiss with him and the other man that is never far away, Kim Seokjin, from the depths of my dreams. My dreams need to leave me be or I may turn into a codfish with the way they keep my head spinning. They haunt me so, the way my brain demands my nightmares to be replayed over and over like this. 
“I’m afraid not, he said he’d be out for the night, taking care of something important at the office.” I say with a fake sigh, shaking my head. Truthfully, he’s been acting very strange lately and I can't quite put my finger on the reason for his odd behavior. Ever since he got that letter… Come to think of it, I haven’t seen any post since that strange night. I’ll ask Emily about it in the morning. 
“I see.” Jungkook says softly. The grandfather clock chimes from the sitting room and I am suddenly aware of what time it is. I’m severely underdressed in my baby blue lounge attire, completely ill-prepared for meeting company. Books about faraway lands with princes and kings were the only thing occupying my time this evening and I’m embarrassed to even think that. “In that case, your outfit will just have to do, I suppose…”
Jungkook suddenly steps closer to me in one long stride, closing the gap between me and him. My heart skips a beat, his pupils dilate, my words run dry as he snakes one arm around my back, the other holding my chin with his thumb and forefinger. 
“Mr. Jeon-” I stammer, unable to call for help, now that this man has me in his grasp. 
“I have been willing you to come and follow me, to give into your darkest desires, but still you resist me.” The young man hisses down at me, brows knit with confusion. “You are the only thing anyone talks about and I cannot stand it any longer.” My mouth hangs open. His nostrils flare as he makes his move. “You will be mine. Not locked away in this tower while Johnny is out and about with another man. You will be our new Alice.”
Before I can say anything, he pours a vile from his pocket into my mouth, holding it above my arms so I can’t smack it away. It tastes like roast turkey and strong alcohol and I try to claw and get away but I cannot as Jungkook holds my mouth open; my tongue feels numb and my arms feel like jelly, going limp in Jungkook’s arms. The only thing I can remember before completely blacking out is the little tag on the side of the bottle that says “DRINK ME”, tied with a pink ribbon hanging from the tiny glass and the smell of his cologne which reminds me of musk with a dash of black pepper. 
-
Faint sounds of brass and strings pull me from my unconscious state in a flurry. 
My brain is working hard, producing series and strings of thoughts. Why did Mr. Jeon Jungkook do that to me? Does Jonathan know where I am? In the same breath, where am I? What was that drink? Have I been poisoned? I look at myself on the red heart-patterned bedsheets. I look fine. There is no sign or feelings that I’ve been harmed, no bruises, and most importantly of all, there is no blood. There is no indicator at all that I’ve been harmed at all, which makes me sigh in relief. 
But still, where have I been taken? This surely is not a room in the Suh residence. 
A room with no windows, a giant bed in the middle of the room, large wooden pedestals with various wax candles lit drip down the sides surround me, red velvet curtains drape the walls making the warm room seem even more dim, and a wooden swing all decorate the space I find myself trapped in. 
I can feel the color drain from my face when I realize that I’ve been here before. In fact, I’ve been here many, many times - almost every night. Not in the flesh but in my dreams. The only thing that is missing are the two men I see every night…
All the little hairs on my body stand at alert, worry coloring my thoughts, and I feign a small gasp in the large room. 
With a lump in my throat and my heart thumping so hard I fear it might try to escape my chest, I run from the room. 
My blue nightgown flutters behind me, time seems to slow as my bare feet carry me through the rooms from my dreams - though it’s backwards this time. I dash like a mad person, twirling and twisting my way through the room with mirrors on every side, seeing myself panting like a dog running so hard in the reflective glass. Though, I am happy to see I have no scratches upon my face either. I run through the room with clocks hanging all over the walls chiming and ticking at different times, springing through the belly of a giant, tall grandfather clock. I trip over the hems of my dress in the room with a long table in the middle which appears to stretch on for miles in this long room. There are various tea sets, cups, and pots along with tea cakes and sweet treats placed in a perfectly chaotic mess on the table as the eyes of various animal heads stare at me from their places hanging on the walls. 
As I shimmy through the small door leading to the room with the walls full of water and sea creatures from the ocean, I pause my panting and sputtering as I spot Mr. Jung Jaehyun with his back pressed up against the glass. He is moaning, panting himself, a masquerade mask dangling in his hand, legs wrapped around the waist of a tall man in a vest who is rolling his hips sensually into his. My eyes widen as I figure out what the two of them are doing quickly and avert my attention. My thighs rub together, a strange fire grows in my lower abdomen, and I know I shouldn’t be looking but there is nothing but pure bliss on Mr. Jung’s face.
I can’t stop, I remind myself as my feet continue to carry me through the rooms I know so well. 
Slinking away across a far wall full of lobsters without being caught, I hear Mr. Jung Jaehyun mewl one singular name, “Johnny!” I want to turn around, catch my “future” husband's side profile as he makes love to another man, confirm it’s him, but my mind flashes back to meeting Jaehyun for the first (and only) time and how they touched each other so fondly. Jungkook’s words ring in my words as I hear laughing coming from beyond the rooms filled with tanks and gilled beasts. 
Keep going. I can make it out of this place from my nightmares. 
The next room is filled with more people, though it’s hazy at best in here. There are giant hookah pipes in the middle of floor cushions, people with and without masks on touching each other so unabashedly, some naked, half-nude, or still in their ball gowns all laying over each other in a pleasure-filled party I was slightly jealous I haven’t been invited to. 
“Ms. Y/L/N?” A deep yet clear baritone purrs over the sounds of jazz music and groans of love-making. I  turn my head to his voice, feet skidding to a halt as I look at Mr. Kim Namjoon in his half-naked glory, navy blue silk robe hanging off his shoulders exposing a lovely chest, half-lidded eyes tracing my form like I am a piece of delicate meat he wishes to indulge in. “What are you doing without your mask?” He snaps his fingers, chuckling lightly as he takes another drag of his long silver pipe. “Twins, get her a mask!”
“Where am I?” I query as I feel the presence of two figures slowly approaching me out of the dim haze. “Who are you people?” It feels wrong to be here, to witness this. It doesn’t feel right. I feel out of place and my body is begging me to run and my legs tremble like a fawn. 
His brows furrow as he takes the tube out of his mouth, blowing smoke rings in my face. “Who are you to question me, Y/N?” He snickers as the “twins” catch my arms, placing a mask over my face as I struggle. “You are but another “Alice” to me. Take her to the ball, you two. The rabbit and the hatter are dying to see her, I’m sure.” They tie the mask around me successfully, leading me out of this room into the next one which I know is the one where the floor is a giant chess board. 
“Please,” I plead with the good looking twins who march on like the loyal soldiers to this strange cause, “what is all this?” The music and the chatter and maniacal laughing is growing louder as we prance down the hallway with portraits of people who are dressed in all white and all red. “I just want to know…”
“Suppose we ought to tell her?” The taller of the two says after a moment of silence between the three of us. 
“Suppose we ought not to.” The shorter one shakes his head as he carries on in the quest to take me somewhere. “Boss will be mad.”
“You are to be the belle of the ball.” The taller one says with a viscous boxy grin.
“The new “Alice”.” The short one with fluffy lips nods this time.
“Everyone keeps saying that, but I don’t know what it means?” I say as I hold my breath, about to waltz into the strange chess-board-like room. 
“The most beautiful, wonderful, talented, special, magical-” The taller twin rambles on.
“The most perfect woman at The Wonderland Ball is called “Alice” until the next one.” The shorter one states softly as he inhales a giant breath. They both let me go, pushing me forward as the drapery of the simple heart-patterned curtain gives way and I am standing at the top of a grand staircase while hundreds of people from below all gasp and stare up at me. 
As soon as I regain my footing a spotlight hits me and causes me to shield me eyes away from the bright light bearing down upon me. The upbeat music falls silent and I am acutely aware that I am standing here in my loungewear and not properly dressed to be at the forefront of attention this evening.
“And now the moment you’ve all been waiting for!” The voice that makes my hair stand up on end purrs as his lush lips soothe the microphone on the little stage they’ve set up for the jazz band to play on. Kim Seokjin, my eyes lock with his which dance with mischief, his smile greedy,  dressed to the nines in a rich green suit. “The crowning of the belle of the ball, the apple of all our eyes, the one that shines brighter than anyone in the picture shows, Ms. Y/N Y/L/N!” 
A roar of cheering, clapping, and brass music erupts as a white haired-man with a stretched, gummy smile that doesn’t fade takes my hand and leads me down the black and white staircase. The noises seemingly die in my ears as the man on my arm says nothing, grins like a cat about to catch a mouse in its claws. Time slows, people moving and waving at me become a blur as I see who is waiting at the bottom of the staircase. 
Mr. Jeon Jungkook. 
The man on my arm notices how tense I am and he ever so slightly turns his head and says to me in a deep voice, “They are not going to harm you. Jungkook is infatuated with you.” My cheeks heat up. “Seokjin is helping him accomplish his dreams because he signed his life away to the servitude of others for as long as he shall live.”
“Signed his life away?” I breathe, eyes never leaving Jungkook in a white waistcoat.
“You can’t get something for free in this world.” The cat-like man growls as we are almost there. “You’ve heard of an eye for an eye, correct?” I node slightly. “A soul of servitude so he can produce strange magic, according to him and the Red Witch of Underland.” 
My heart nearly stops realizing what has happened. “The devil?”
“Bingo, babe.” The cat-man chuckles a deep rasp, sliding his arm away from mine. “Have fun.”
“Now you kids have fun chasing rabbits!” Seokjin’s voice crackles through the microphone. “Everyone, enjoy the last few hours of the wonderland ball!” More hooting and hollering echoes in the building as I am exchanged into Jungkook’s strong arms.
“I thought you’d never make it.” He smiles from under his white mask at me. He takes my hand and leads me to be embraced on the dance floor. Seokjin smirks at us as he begins to sing a popular pop song everyone swoons at. 
“Would you like to tell me what this is all about?” I query with a sneer on my lips. “Why am I here? Why have you poisoned me?”
“I have not nor would I ever harm you.” Jungkook grips my waist tighter. “I merely gave you a strong sedative so that I could bring you to our wonderful palace.” 
“Why?” I question as he twirls me around his outstretched arm.
“Because from the moment I bumped into you, you have been the only thing consuming my mind.” He earnestly tells me, sorrow coating his eyes. “I’m not sure what trap Johnny has ensnared or tricked you in but I very much hate seeing him lock you away from the world.”
“You’re wrong.” I state angrily, glaring at him.
“He doesn’t care about you. He likes to frolic about with diplomats’ sons, not farmers’ daughters.” Jungkook smiles at me. 
“That’s not true…” I mumble, my eyes looking away from his red-rimmed ones boring down upon me. “I-I am marrying Jonathan for my own personal reasons.”
“Oh, ho?” Jungkook softly chuckles, leaning over, turning my gaze back to him as he gently caresses my cheek. “Do you really believe that, darling?”
“I do...I do! I-I came here willingly.” I tremble, my facade I’ve been trying to convince myself of  this whole time crackling under the pressure of his words. “I l-love…” My words linger as I look beyond Jungkook, looking up to see, “...Jonathan…” walking toward myself in the middle of the dance floor. 
“Jeon!” Jonathan says, Mr. Jung Jaehyun trailing behind him, eyes wide and scared when they find mine. The male in the waistcoat holding me turns his head to the noise, the brass music climaxing, the gasps of people Jonathan is stepping between couples dancing in the soft electric light from above - I feel like my heart is going to burst. My future husband pulls his arm back, fists clenched, ready to hurt Jungkook, and with an exhale I close my eyes fearing the worst was about to ensue. 
The electric lights in the strange ballroom give out in the same second. 
People scream all around me, a loud thud is heard and I feel like something unexpected is about to occur, the atmosphere heavy and full of invisible pressure. 
“Release the jabberwocky!” A voice echoes as chaos ensues. 
“Come with me.” A voice purrs, ripping me away from Jungkook’s arms. I feel almost empty as shouting and yelling break out in the middle of the dance floor. “I will protect you, Y/N, my crown jewel.”  My stomach pits hearing him say my name, tickling my ear like the serpent that led Eve to eat the apple of her demise. 
Kim Seokjin.
With a snap of his fingers, we are back in the room I started out this evening in and where my dreams always have me end at. I land on the bed in a huff and he ends up sitting upon the swing, looking at me with a triumphant smirk on his luscious lips. There is a certain air about him now that doesn’t seem so threatening, so serious now for some reason. Perhaps it’s him sitting upon the swing like that of a child? I haven’t the slightest clue. 
“Where am I?” I demand, glowering at Seokjin from across the way.
“Curiosity often leads to trouble, my dearest Y/N.”  Seokjin chuckles darkly, eyes roaming my body, a knowing look on his features. “I think before your marriage you are looking for a little trouble, if you catch my drift.” 
Trouble…
My mind completely spirals remembering the scenes of people entangled with one another, their mouths working in tandem with each other, their slippery pink tongues entwined in a passionate battle for dominance. Mr. Jung Jaehyun’s face twisted in pleasure, moaning and mewling as his lover - my future husband - was thrusting vigorously. 
A lightbulb finally goes off in my head. 
“You want me to give into you both then my dreams will end?” My voice shakes as I query to Seokjin who continues to lightly push back and forth on the swing. “Then you will let me leave?” 
His eyes flicker with a hungry vigor to them, gleaming in the dim candlelight. “Precisely.” His soft voice cuts the atmosphere like a sharp blade, leaving me with a chill radiating down my spine. “Let’s have some fun, “Alice”.” 
“As long as you promise I am to be set free from all of...this.” I gesture around the room as he makes a come hither motion with his fingers at me.  
“You have my word.” 
Somehow, I don’t believe him, but I am desperate for any way out of this wretched place I can find. 
So, I will use the body I was blessed with to the fullest extent.  
I am a loyal woman. I step toward the man on the swing, my hands coming up to the ties around my chest and my waist. His eyes spark with a ravenous hunger in the depths of his orbs. I know that I am not doing a decent thing. Seokjin snaps his fingers again, all his clothes disappearing but his green top hat, vanishing before my very eyes. I know I am more than what I am succumbing to right now. But my stomach does feel hot and my thighs rubbing together is making me feel faint for some reason. My garments fall to the floor in a soft patting sound and I lose my breath in the same moment.
Don’t tell me I actually want this…?
I stand in front of him on the swing and I can’t help but bite my lip as my eyes roam his pale figure, tracing down his collarbones to his sculpted abdominal muscles he has been hiding. Did he sell his soul to the devil to become handsome too I wonder?   
“So beautiful.” He revels looking at me unabashed, a wolfish grin spreading across his pretty face. Part of me wants him to touch me, to caress the underside of my breast, to trace the outline of my hips with his fingertips, but he doesn not. 
I have to remind myself this isn’t for me. This is for the man that has been tormenting me. 
“Get me ready for you.” Seokjin commands, smirk still spread across his face. I comply, dropping to my knees to be faced with a large member swinging forth from the middle of his legs on the swing. “And you will address me as “Sir”, understand?”
“Yes, sir.” I respond, biting my lip as I look from his eyes to his member once more.
“Suck.” He chuckles lightly, pointing to his middle and I can’t help but follow this simple instruction. 
I don’t tease him, though I’m not really sure I know what I am doing in the first place. I swirl the flat of my tongue over his mushroom-tipped head several times. He moans in response, his hands coming off the swing’s ropes to hold my hair from my face as I swallow him further down my wet cavity. My middle aches and pulses, empty, missing something as I steady myself against Seokjin’s thighs.
“Good little girl.” Seokjin hums, his sound voice making me feel appreciated. The sound vibrating through to my own middle, making me groan around him.
I bob my head up and down his long length, enjoying the way he hums and gasps in response to my efforts. It’s a little hard to breathe I think as I continue my pace, nose hitting Seokjin’s pubic bone, smelling the most intimate part of him.
My dominant hand grabs his member at the base, working him in tandem with my mouth. Up and down his thick member I go, reveling in every twitch and rumble that flies out of his throat. The swing starts to sway with my rhythmic movements, bobbing him back and forth with vigor, tears climb to my eyes.  The tip of him hits the back of my mouth, making me gag and choke on his wonderful cock. The heat was pooling in the middle of my stomach and I fear I am going to lose my mind. I pick up the motions of my mouth and hand, tears skating down my pinkened cheeks, his grip tightening around the base of my skull, digging into my scalp.
It burns… But, I also enjoy it. This feeling...so wet and tight and I feel so evil and sinful but the pleasure is driving me mad.       
“Baby girl.” There’s warning in his tone as I pop off his cock in an instant, looking up to him with big worried eyes. His head was leaned back, not focused on looking directly at myself, but the feeling of my lips and fingertips. “Up.” He commands once more, head twisting back to a comfortable position to stare at me.
I scramble to my feet, missing the feeling of him in my mouth already, not to mention aching for him in the middle of my legs. I rub my thighs together for some easy friction, knowing that it won’t help me much at this point.
Seokjin moves his hand to stroke against his giant member in his palm and I lock my orbs in place on the slit of his cock where a clear liquid was oozing out. My mind is truly hazy at best, as I just stand there and watch him stroke himself up and down in a lazy fashion. I bite my lip once more. 
I do want this. I am almost ashamed to admit that I want this man. 
“Are you going to be good and let me use you?” Seokjin’s dirty words make my middle pool and contort with more of a raging fire. 
“Y-Yes, sir.” I say again, cheeks hot and damp from sucking his cock moments ago. 
His nostrils flare, his cock twitches in his grasp as he motions to sit upon his middle. “I bet you’re so wet for me.” He chuckles, smile darkening with his words.                          
Seokjin eases me down on his thick member, my hole so wet, so slick, allowing him to stretch my clenching walls in an easy motion. I gasp, eyes popping out of my head. My nails dig into his shoulder blades, back arching with his giant, twitching dick tight inside of me. I wrap my legs around his lean waist, his pale skin flexing in the candlelight with his movements as he stills, letting my hips sink down into the base of his cock.
“Baby girl.” Seokjin purrs, breath tickling my ear as he throbs inside of me. “I need you.” He growls, littering the crook of my neck with sloppy kisses. He positions us just so on the swing, readying us to begin when he deems necessary.
“P-Please use me, s-sir-r!” I mumble in the base of his neck, feeling high on this pleasure-filled pain. 
“I live to serve.” 
I gasp as he starts moving his hips inside of my center, bucking up into my body with a fevered pace instantly. The swing moves back and forth and I feel like the motion is going to make me feel his body sliding in and out of me too well. I cling to him for dear life, my grip surely bruising him or harming him in some way as he slides in and out of my slicked out center at a brutal rhythm.
Tears find my eyes again as he nips at my neck, marking me up with tender love bites. I’m a howling, moaning mess, losing my sanity. I am finally full of Seokjin’s girth, filling me up beyond desire.
Seokjin kisses my lips then in his, melting our mouths together in a hurry. He holds my face in his palms, grunting and groaning for me, and only me. His tongue enters my mouth in search of something unknown, moaning into my lips laced together with his hot mouth connected with my pink tongue. He rolls his saliva coated tongue into mine in haste, need seeping into my senses, consuming my thoughts as he thrusts up in me, using the swing as a propellant to ease us forward and backward.
“Feels...so-o..good~!” I moan in between our passionate kisses. 
Seokjin just growls like a feral animal in response. The tip of his cock kisses my cervix continuously, brushing past a spot inside of me that instantly makes me quake. He rockets himself against me, rutting his body against my core in sync with his hips slamming into mine. Seokjin expels filth from his mouth about filling me to the brim with his seed, seeing my stomach swollen and full of his children, his warm breath hitting my ear making me shudder in response.
I can’t focus, my climax getting ready to pop at any moment. Wet noises fill the dark room, as Seokjin’s rough speed of his length in and out of my molten, wet center continues. My erect nipples swirl on his pale chest, circling quickly as he bounces me up and down his giant cock, swinging through the air like some sexual trapeze artist.
“Are you going to be good to me?” He asks me, smirk present in his tone, pace almost blinding now as he pushes in and out of me with a need so heavy and strong I can practically smell it rising from his skin. “Are you going to let me fill you up, my little doll?” Seokjin snarls into my skin.
“Pleaseeeee!” I practically scream, eyes flying open as he hits my center at just the right spot that makes me see white. 
“Ah-ah!” He tsks. “What do we say?”
“Please, sir!” I mewl and gasp, thighs quaking in his hold, my juices squelching out of me as he continues to thrust into my sensitive molten core. “Seokjin!” I cry while he growls into the scorching skin of my neck inhaling sharply as he slams his hips into my shivering body. “Sir!”
Seokjin grunts, cock spurting his seed into me with a need so raw, so feral he finds his footing hard to maintain on the swing, stilling us from moving about, holding my hips tightly down upon him. He sucks harshly on my skin as he too shudders and grunts, biting down on the crook of my neck, stretching my clenching walls around his member as he fills me with his hot white seed.
My cries of pleasure fill the small room, my pleasure-filled haze coming to a close as Seokjin shifts us - still joined together - to the bed in the middle of the room. I hold onto Seokjin as he keeps his seed inside of me, feeling like I just had the ride of my life on top of him. My climax dies down, my first high fading away, fog around my brain being lifted temporarily as my nails rake over shoulders I’ve definitely marked up. 
A cool, damp towel appears with a wave of his arms, stroking my middle with it delicately cleaning up the mess I’ve made. “How does it feel to be connected with the devil?” Seokjin sneers as he pulls out of me, making my center ache and twitch for him. 
My eyes grow wide and my lips part but before I can say anything Jungkook bursts in the room.
“Am I late?” Jungkook pants as he looks awestruck by me on the bed. 
“For a very important date.” I gaze back to Seokjin who is now fully dressed, smirking that soft, playful smile like he usually does at Mr. Jeon. “Don’t worry, I was just getting her ready for you, Jungkookie.” 
Jungkook eyes him with narrowed orbs, but buys the lie Seokjin is selling and proceeds to strip himself of his white waistcoat. “What is on the menu tonight?” His red-rimmed irises bore into mine and I feel self-conscious suddenly. He circles the bed in the manner like that of a wolf would as he finishes stripping himself of any dressy garments, though his slacks remain on. 
 “The one you most desire out of everything in this world.” Seokjin purrs, stepping up to take his seat on his pedestal high above us. 
Is he going to watch us?
“Fuck,” Jungkook growls, dropping to his knees in front of the bed suddenly. He pulls me closer to him by my ankles, throwing my thighs apart so my center is exposed to him in the rawest form. He stares at my glistening middle as I try to close my legs with a little, pathetic whimper.
“Don’t.” The rabbit-like man moans wantonly, holding onto my ankles loosely. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful, you know that, right?” His hands glide up my thighs achingly slow, holding me in pace for his eyes to ravage as they please.
The fire in my lower stomach has returned, hungry and ready to go for more.
His warm fingertips make it to my inner thighs, kneading the flesh there tenderly, so close to my throbbing core that I almost beg him with a cry to dip down into me, but I refrain, hanging on to every trace or brush of his hands against my scorching flesh.
“What do you want, my darling?” He groans into my inner thigh, lips ghosting my sensitive flesh there, inching closer to my heated skin with his upper body.
“Please.” I finally ask, begging, almost choking out the word, forgetting Seokjin watching us from above.
His dominant hand finally finds my nether lips, tracing them up and down with his two longest fingers but not exactly touching me where I am aching quite yet. “Please what?” He teases, stroking me up and down slowly, holding his feral gaze in mine, amber eyes seemingly on fire.
“Please, Jungko-“
He slaps my middle with little force or malice behind it, but I jolt, mewling aloud, wanting him to secretly do it again.
Jungkook goes back to tracing my lips in the middle of my body, smug smirk seated on his devilishly handsome face. “You are so wet, darling.” He slaps me again, though this time I want it more than I’d actually care to admit.
“Jung-” I choke on my words.
He slaps me again, this time with slightly more force behind his fingertips. I hiss out a breath, staring at him with my mouth slightly ajar, brows turned up, looking down at him with half-lidded eyes already.
“I have to have a taste.” He kisses my inner thigh as he slowly traces his thumb over my slicked out folds.
I let out a wanton cry as he hums into my thighs, growling low and deep. I swear there’s a smile in his voice as he works with his mouth and fingertip in tandem. “Mine.” He breathes, sucking on the sensitive flesh of my innermost thigh, marking me with a throaty growl.
“J-Jungkook..!”
I am a mess. I let loose a series of pants, breathless moans as he works my coil in the pit of my stomach tighter with every brush or groan he grants my hot body. I am melting under Jungkook’s touch, my body feeling sticky, arousal dripping from my middle while he circles my delicate clit.
His thumb was increasing his pace of gliding over my bundle of nerves, still slow, still making my breathing become erratic, but the desire for Jungkook to do more was driving me insane. I’ve had a taste of sex and look at me wanting more. I didn’t know if I could be in the position to ask for more. But I wanted him to place those perfect, beautiful sinful lips on my molten core. Jungkook’s breath fans over my middle as he continues to stroke me down there.
I miss the twitch confined to the middle of his pants from the man watching us from above with eager need. 
As if sensing my need, his tongue swipes a slow stripe through my folds, the cool of his muscle against my exposed center making me black out for a moment, the sensation far too much for me to bear with right now. His snort of laughter brings me back to reality as he swirls his pink tongue at my empty entrance.
Jungkook laps at my folds as if he is a starved man, hungry, desperate for his next meal. I keen, gripping onto the base of his golden torso as laps at me. I’d think grounding myself on top of Jungkook’s head would make me saner, gripping his strands of hair as he goes to town in my middle. But really, it makes me feel completely mad, like I’ve gone insane.
The feral, untamed animal-like noises that escape his throat drive me absolutely wild, my skin on fire with need and want. My nails cling to his scalp, dragging him closer to my middle as he ravages my core. He maneuvers his two longest fingers through the glossy slick, lubing his digits to breach my entrance.
“Jungkook!” I gasp, choking on my words as he makes a come hither motion with his fingers, splitting my velvet walls to open for him.
Jungkook swirls his tongue over my little pearl of sensitive nerves, lapping and sucking my flesh like he's never eaten a thing in his life. He continues his very audible growling and moaning, husk in his voice incredibly thick.
“Let go, baby.” He coos into my middle as I jolt and shake, his digits brushing past the most delicious spot deep inside of my clenching walls. “Give me your release.”
His words finally tip me over the edge.
I tighten my hold on him, gritting my teeth in the process. My head falls backward on the sheets, eyes screwed closed as Jungkook slurps every inch of my middle clean, not leaving anything to go to waste.
“Kookie,” I sputter out, the feeling of his tongue and fingers becoming too much for me. “I-I’m c-c-cumming-!”
As I say the last of my words, the world comes undone around me for the second time today, my tight coil finally popping. Blinding white stars coat my vision for a second, my body shivering and shaking as I drip out onto the flat of Jungkook’s tongue.
He laps up my sensitive hole up with more snarls, more feral noises escaping his body. Tears flow down my face as I unhinge my nails from his silky blonde strands, trying to push him away from my overly sensitive flesh with pathetic mewls of protest escaping my throat.
More. My brian prompts me to continue to sate my undying lust burning inside of me. I need more.
“Jungkook,” I beg while his tongue still explores my throbbing hole, giving my sensitive skin rapt attention. “Jungkookie. Please. I c-can’t.” I tug at his blinde hair gently, trying to get him to stop teasing me with his tongue.
He doesn't stop and I can only think of one thing to ask before I lose my damn mind with him between my thighs.
“Jungkook.” I shudder, high building up once more. “Please fuck me.”
Everything in the room stills, the only sound heard was our heavy breathing. 
He looks up from my sensitive core, brows knit together as he looks into my eyes with such a passionate gaze of uncertainty. My juices were coating the bottom half of his face, his blonde hair is in a state of disarray, as he proceeds to slowly rise to his feet, looking over me on the bed.
“What?” He questions incredulously down at my fucked out form. Jungkook looks at me as if I am the most fragile thing in the world, as if I would burst into flames at any moment. “My darling, my love, there’s no going back if we-“
“I know.” I smirk up to the gorgeous gangster in all of the Windy City. “I want this too.”
His nostrils flare, his eyes widen, and his gaze softens. Jungkook looks down at me with something akin to lust, which makes my heart rate increase...
“Up.” He commands, raw husk pouring out of his tone as he starts to undo his pants, the zipper noise almost jarring in the quiet of the night.
I do as I’m told. I’ve fallen far down the rabbit hole now, I think as I shift on the bed. Standing was a little difficult as he’s just given me one of the best feelings I’ve ever had. I keep my eyes glued to Jungkook. His hands travel sensually down his tiny waist to his slacks he unbuttons. I am gasping, unable to take my eyes off the very beautiful sight of his thick cock bouncing, finally free from the confines of his dress pants. The tip was red and angry, a bead of precum adorning the slit of his mushroom-like head. He was long, girthy, and I want nothing more than it inside of myself at this very moment.
Jungkook grips the base of his cock with his hand while he steps out of his pants, giving his shaft a few pumps up and down while I watch with an open mouth.
“I’ve dreamt of this moment for so long.” He confesses softly, reaching for me with his free hand. I inch closer to him, gliding my hands over his defined body, admiring his lithe, yet sturdy frame. My fingers hungrily trace every ridge, every contour of his golden torso. Jungkook was so warm, so wonderful, and I am slightly kicking myself for not giving into him sooner. “To have you,” he continues, kissing up the side of my neck. 
“Please.” I beg him again, eyes flickering back and forth between his. 
“Turn around.” He leans in to kiss me with passionate need. His lips molding into mine as I cling to him for more. I taste my essence on his tongue which makes me whimper into his strong hold. “I’m going to fuck you now, my love.”
Again, I don’t need to be told twice as he guides me to where he wants me, bending me at the waist so my fingers dig into the unkept sheets below, my backside open and exposed to him.
“So pretty for me.” I hear the grin in his deep rumble. Jungkook slaps my bottom, granting him a hiss to escape my throat. I whine when he does it softly several more times, making my head soar.
I hear him spit before I feel the extra saliva lubricant coat my backside, the cool of his juices combined with mine was driving me up a wall.
“Jungkook!” I gasp.
He groans when I call for him, pushing his fat head of a cock at my aching, empty hole, wanting him to finally join the two of us.
“Darling,” he sounds like he’s straining to hold back. “Baby, please, fuck!” He grunts, splitting my walls inch by agonizingly slowly. I moan as he stretches me wide, entering me like he owns me. 
He thrusts inside of me all the way with one snap of his hips suddenly. A cry leaves my lips along with a strangled one from the man inside of me. My eyes widen as I realize that he’s not going to go easy on me tonight, he’s going to fuck me on his terms. I was in for a wild ride this evening.
Jungkook leans the front of himself over my sticky back, pressing our heated flesh together more, growling to the outside shell of my ear, nipping the flesh under my lobe while sliding in and out of me with a brutal pace he’s set.
“Baby…” he moans in my ear, the deep purr vibrating throughout his body making my breathing hitch and sob. His hips snapping into mine with a rhythm, I swear, no human man could ever achieve. Liquid was flowing down my eyes as the push and pull of Jungkook slamming his giant cock into my velvet folds repeatedly already had me tearing the sheets in two with my nails.
“Jung! Ah! Kook!”
Seokjin glides his hand over his cock from above the bed, matching the rhythm Jungkook’s hips produce, enjoying the wonderful show. 
I gasp this over and over like a prayer falling from my lips. My eyes are squeezed shut, my body hot with the raw purpose to feel Jugnkook inside of my heated center. His cock pushes in and out of me at a fevered pace, making my vision blur, seeing far too many white stars.
My brain is fuzzy as he hits the spot inside of me that blinds me, pleasure swimming in my veins. My third climax was surely on the way. 
“Baby,” Jungkook grunts, one of his arms snaking up my torso, his long fingers finding one of my bouncing breasts. He starts pinching my erect nipple, holding on to me tighter as we slide back and forth off of one another.
My coil was wound so tight, I don’t know if I’d be able to last much longer. Especially not with Jungkook’s fingers attaching to my hardened nipple, his lips to the crook of my neck, and his cock slamming in and out of my clenching middle with a fevered need.
He bucks into me faster, my walls clamping down on him, my coil about to pop, about to burst forth again. I can’t hold myself up any longer, my legs shaking violently. My knuckles are turning white with how hard I am clawing at the heart patterned sheets.
“Jungkook! I-“ I mewl, but I don’t get to finish my thought. 
In a split second, Jungkook pulls out of my middle, flipping me over and letting me fall onto my back so I could be face to face with him. Jungkook climbs on top of me quickly, wanting to resume his feverish pace immediately, hunger and need in his amber gaze. He settles between my legs, pushing himself back into my slicked out center easily, restarting from where he last left off.
I gasp when he enters me, clinging to his shoulders, holding him while the lewd squelching noises in the room continue to grow, faster, louder. He grips onto my hips, guiding me at a blinding speed I didn’t know he could achieve. Is he a victim of the devil as well?
Sweat was pouring off our bodies, my brain unable to produce a sane thought as he grunts and moans my name, his red orbs never leaving my face as he rockets his cock into my folds like it was his job.
It happens again, the very right feeling deep inside of my body, the one that makes me grit my teeth, that makes me see hundreds of tiny white stars.
“Jung! Kook~!” I scream into the quiet room, tears flowing from my hues as I card my fingers through his blonde strands, trying to make a purchase on his roots.
My hands travel down his backside as he snarls, “I’m going to make you my wife! Not some wannabe from the Northside!” Jungkook huffs, his movements slowing down, one of his thumbs finding my folds again, circling my aching clit in hurry - a stark contrast to earlier. “I’m going to claim you as my own.”
Seokjin smiles like he’s just won the lottery, masturbating to the sight of both his clients intertwined, fucking onto each other with unbridled lust. He comes then watching his new toy’s back arch, breasts in the air, Jungkook’s frame pounding into her with hungry trepidation. 
I grab onto the ample flesh of his bottom, feeling the world come tumbling around myself once more. Letting my body shake and quake on top of the sheets, my third orgasm taking me by force. I feel complete - feel whole for some reason. I am so completely taken aback with the storm rippling through my body in pleasureful tremors, one right after the other, I cannot even begin to breathe properly.
He lets a feral snarl rip through his body as he pumps into my leaking middle a few more times, my whole being consumed by Jungkook. He leans over me, sucking my neck colors of purples and dark reds and I scream as his cock swells inside of my velvet walls, releasing his own essence into my womb, holding him there like a vice grip as he spurts his seed deep inside of me.
Once our highs come to a close, I run my fingers through his hair, his throbbing cock still joined inside of my middle. We both pant, holding the other for dear life, finally together, and fulfilled with one other. Jungkook kisses along my jaw, moaning my name, telling me what an amazing baby doll I am as his cock finally softens inside of my aching cunt.
“Bravo.” Seokjin claps as he walks down the wooden stairs. “You both did very well!” He chuckles darkly. I squeak in surprise. I forgot he was there and I scramble to cover myself with the soiled sheets. 
“Okay, Kim,” Jungkook says as he kisses my nose, pulling out and picking up my clothes and handing them to me. He dresses in his undergarments and dress pants quickly, buttoning them up as he turns to the man all in green. “You had your show.” I listen as I dress myself with haste, back turned to the two men. “I’ve done everything you’ve asked: invested the money overseas, gotten rid of the competition and family in this lovely city, got you a new “Alice”, and even let you watch us play ball. I think it’s time to set us free.”
“Yes,” the mad man snickers, darkness clouding his tone, “you both have served me well. But nobody is leaving my perfectly curated speakeasy.” 
I turn around and my heart is dropping to the floor. Shock is written all over Jungkook’s face as I clench my jaw in guilt. 
“But, I’m afraid you both made a deal with me, and I don’t give up my new toys so easily.” Seokjin caresses Jungkook’s face in his pale hand, while holding my gaze with a sense of gentle anger. “You can’t always get what you want. But hey, look on the bright side: at least you have each other.” 
---
A/N: I hope you all enjoyed this trip down the rabbit hole! Likes and reblogs are very much appreciated! 
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yandere-society · 3 years
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Teaser: The Rabbit Hole
Summary: The Windy City in the mid-1920's is a spectacular of lights and sounds, roaring with the excitement of jazz music and swinging dance moves. Amid the brilliant stars of Chicago nightlife, there is a dark underground of secrets, mainly that being the mysterious Wonderland Ball you've been invited to participate in and be crowned the next "Alice". What you don't know is you may or may not be allowed to leave, per the Mad Hatter and a White Rabbit's desires. So, daring and brave as you are, you decide to take a journey down The Rabbit Hole and come face to face with high society - people - as you've never seen them before.
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Genre: Yandere; Historical Fiction/ Fantasy Based In The 1920′s; Smut; Thriller; Alice in Wonderland Inspired 
Warnings: TBD
Pairings: Jeon Jungkook (White Rabbit) x Reader (Alice) x Kim Seokjin (Mad Hatter)
Release Date: February 14th, 9 o’clock Central Time 
Author’s Notes: This is not going to be a historically accurate piece. As much as I am an advocate for research and learning about the times of old, I am only human and I am short on time researching in between my full time job. I have grown up and currently live in Chicago and I have never written a story about the Windy City before so here I am, writing to you about the wonderful city I call home. I am doing my best to stay true to my writing as well as make it as accurate as one can, but please forgive me if there are faults in this story! 
We are not doing a collective Valentine’s Day event this year but the contents of this piece have been weighing heavily on my mind, so I asked if I could write this story for a little something-something. I hope you all enjoy it!
Written By: Admin 💖
Save The Date, Wear A Mask, And Follow The White Rabbit Down The Rabbit Hole For A Delightfully Dreadful Time.
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yandere-society · 3 years
Note
When is Covetous coming out? Because it says the 29th and I also noticed that the date changed a couple of times :( just asking because I've been looking forward to it since the beginning of December hehe
It was supposed to come out on the 29th, however, since then we’ve had no contact with the story’s admin. We hope they’re alright and we apologize for all the posting issues which occurred during this event. As of right now, Covetous is postponed until further notice.
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yandere-society · 3 years
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The Devil in the ICU
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Pairing:
Synopsis: You’ve rarely spoken to your neighbor Jimin, but he’s always been kind to you. When you get into an accident that lands you in the ER, you’re grateful to see who’s taking such good care of you. It isn’t until later that you start to wonder… will you ever be leaving the hospital?
Word Count: 6.6k
Warnings: Blood, murder/death, yandere themes, stalking themes, needles/IVs
Admin: @psycho-slytherin​
Request:
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How did you wind up here? 
As you slump back into your bed, with him lying on the floor next to you, a hazy thought informs you that it must look like a scene straight out of Romeo and Juliet.
Although, you think ruefully, glancing down at the sharp shard of glass clenched in your fist, I don’t think Juliet would have done this.
“Merry fucking Christmas.”
~Three weeks earlier~
Taehyung, leaning against the doorframe with a steaming mug of coffee in his hand, looks as handsome as the day you married him. “Have a good day at work!”
You give him a quick kiss, shivering in the brisk morning air. “You too. Remember that we have that dinner tonight!”
Tae laughs. “Is that what we’re calling the awards ceremony? You know you’ve earned bragging rights.”
“Shush!” You boop him on the nose before turning and making for your car. On the other side of the fence, you can see your neighbor Jimin step out onto his porch. He catches your eye and, as Taehyung goes back inside, you smile amicably and nod at Jimin before getting into your car. You see him at his front door every morning, and he’s always friendly.
On your drive to the university campus, you think about tonight’s dinner. You’ll be presented with an awards for Arts Education despite being one of the youngest professors in the university’s faculty. You were thrilled when the dean of the school contacted you for the honor.
Once you park, you speedwalk to your first class of the day and burst through the door. You soon find yourself looking at twenty students, some bright-eyed, some more zombie-like.
“I’d apologize for being late,” you say, “But at this point I don’t think anyone is surprised.” The more awake students laugh, and you sling your bag onto your desk at the front of the room. “Let’s get started. Yoongi, you’re up first for workshop. Why don’t you stand up and read?”
Of all of your students, you think Yoongi is the most likely to pursue his career in creative writing. 
He nods and stands. You can see his hands trembling as he clutches the paper. 
When he sits back down after reading his poem, there’s a smattering of applause. “Very nice,” you say. “Now, who’d like to offer their feedback?”
~~~
Hours later, you dismiss your last class. You can’t wait to go home and tell Taehyung all about your day.
“So this one kid really decided the best move, instead of asking for an extension, was to plagiarize Twilight. Fucking Twilight!” 
Taehyung laughs as he buttons up his shirt. “What did you tell her?”
“Ugh, I hate to report anyone for plagiarism, I told her to write something new and turn it in for half credit.”
“No wonder your students love you. I think you’re personally responsible for all of the creative writing majors on campus.”
You finish zipping up your dress. “Probably. Let’s get going, yeah?” 
“Your wish, my command,” Taehyung says, gallantly bowing you out the door. You giggle as he opens the passenger side door for you. “For real, Y/n, want to get away for a weekend to celebrate? This is a nationally recognized award!”
“Hm…” you pretend to think. “Maybe we could go somewhere warm and sunny, with lots of beaches.”
Taehyung interlaces his fingers with yours, lifts your hand to his mouth, and kisses your palm. “Whatever you want. Christmas is coming up, maybe we can travel somewhere for the winter.”
You smile and look out of the window as Taehyung begins the drive. The ceremony is being held at a hotel twenty minutes away. And in a few weeks, you’ll be spending Christmas with the love of your life somewhere warm.
Under the twinkling night sky, everything feels so peaceful. Suddenly, you see a flash of light overhead. “Tae! A shooting star! Look-”
BANG. You hear the sound of crunching metal, feel a violent jerk, and everything goes dark.
~~~
“When she wakes up, start her on 20 milligrams of morphine. If her blood pressure is still low, go ahead and add saline to the IV. She shouldn’t need a transfusion unless anything opens up again.”
“Yes, Doctor.”
Doctor. Are you in the hospital, then? Was there an accident? “Ugh…” You blink hard in the blinding light. You’re woozy, and your mouth tastes like copper.
“Y/n! Doctor, she’s awake!” You hear a familiar voice, and feel a hand grip your own.
“M-Mom?”
“Y/n. Thank heavens, you’re awake.” Your mom’s voice is strained and thick, as though she’s been crying. When your eyes finally focus on her, she’s sniffling, and her eyes are bloodshot. She’s wearing a formal black dress – did she come straight from the ceremony?
“What happened?” You croak.
“You were in an accident,” your mom says, her voice breaking. “A bad one. We weren’t sure if you would make it.”
You wince. That doesn’t make sense, and the cost of a hospital stay isn’t in your budget. “Where’s Taehyung?” 
Your mother is silent for a moment too long, and you feel your chest grow tight. “Mom, where is Taehyung? He was in the car with me!”
“He… he didn’t make it. I’m so sorry,” your mom whispers. “The doctors did everything they could.”
No. “You’re lying.” Of course she is, she has to be, he’s your husband, he can’t be gone. “Don’t lie. He’s fine.” 
“Y/n, baby…” 
“No!” You weakly pull your hand from her grip. Angry tears form and begin to spill down your swollen, tender cheeks. “You’re lying!” Please, you beg inside your head, please be lying. Not Taehyung. He’s healthy, strong, smart, he has to be fine. 
You can see unshed tears shining in your mother’s eyes. “I’m so sorry.”
“We weren’t going that fast,” you say desperately. “It can’t have been bad.”
“You broke a leg and a rib, fractured your collarbone, and punctured your lung,” Your mother says quietly. “They said you were lucky to have no brain damage.”
You sit back, stunned. It’s true, you’re wrapped in bandages and the parts of your skin that you can see are black and blue. When you lift the blanket, you can see a small clear tube protruding from your chest. Still, it’s impossible. You had only been driving for a few minutes. “What happened? The accident?”
“I-It was a hit-and-run,” your mother responds shakily. “They T-boned your car and drove away. There were witnesses, but no cameras and nobody got a license plate. They put out a notice for the car.”
You swallow. Despite your injuries, it seems like you’re unable to feel anything at all. Please, no… 
There’s a soft knock at the door. “Y/n?” You look up and through the dark fog in your head you feel a tinge of shock.
Standing in front of you, wearing blue scrubs and a mask, is… your neighbor.
“Jimin?”
Jimin nods. “I’m sorry for what you’re going through. I just need to adjust your IV – are you in pain?”
“No- yes.” As soon as the word escapes your mouth, feeling spills back into your body. Fuck. Suddenly you can’t breathe, your chest feels like it’s on fire, and your leg… “It hurts really badly.”
“Let me increase the morphine dosage.” He steps towards the machines and IV to which you’re hooked up and fiddles with some buttons.
Your heart feels as though it’s stopped on Taehyung. You refuse to believe it, and so you refuse to grieve. “I didn’t know you were a doctor,” you say to Jimin. Your voice sounds like a robotic copy of itself. Out of the corner of your eye, you see your mother glancing at you with worry.
“I’m not, I’m a nurse,” he replies. 
“You take good care of her, you hear?” Your mom says to Jimin, clearly understanding your silent signal not to bring up Taehyung. She was lying – he has to be fine.
Jimin nods firmly, the ghost of a smile on his face. “Yes, ma’am. She’ll be up and about soon, but for now she needs rest.”
As your mom rises slowly from her chair beside your bed, she grasps Jimin’s hand in hers. “Make sure she’s okay.”
“I will.”
Once your mom leaves, your eyelids feel heavy. Your brain is foggy with distorted thoughts of Taehyung. Why can’t you remember anything? “What time is it?”
“Three in the morning,” Jimin supplies.
That surprises you. “It’s been hours.” 
“It has.” “Do you know what happened to the awards ceremony?”
“The… what?”
Of course he doesn’t. Why should he? You sink as far as you can into your pillow, wishing only that it would suffocate you. It feels like there’s an all-consuming black hole in your chest, clawing at every part of you. Taehyung. Taehyung. Taehyung.
“I’m sorry about your husband,” Jimin says gravely. “I met him several times. He was a very kind man.”
“He’s not gone,” you reply stubbornly. He can’t be. “I just need to get better and get home.” Tae will be there.
Jimin pauses. “We’ll do our best.”
“Thank you.”
“The doctor will be back in soon,” Jimin adds. “I can give you something to help you sleep after.”
“Oh, you’re an angel.” After everything that’s happened, you don’t think you can ever sleep again. At least, not until you’re with Taehyung. Surely, the doctor will be able to tell you the truth. 
The doctor comes in, a middle-aged Black woman who introduces herself as Dr. Greene. She walks you through your injuries and the path to recovery. “Luckily, they could have been a lot worse,” she says, eyeing your chart appreciatively. “You should be discharged in two weeks, give or take. After that, it’ll be a while still with your leg in a cast. You’ll have to come back for more check-ups. And as soon as your lung heals, we want you to start physical therapy to counteract all the bed rest. Do you have any questions for me?”
“Where is my husband?” You ask desperately. Behind Dr. Greene, you see Jimin’s face has turned stony. “He was in the car with me, his name is Kim Taehyung–”
“Your husband has passed away,” the doctor says simply, quietly. “I’m sorry.”
At last, with this authority figure having sealed his fate, you allow yourself to cry for Taehyung. Loud, animalistic sobs tear from your chest until your abused ribs and lungs can’t support you anymore and you collapse, screaming silently into hands that hurt to lift. 
“Y/n…”
“It’s not fair. It’s not fair! It should have been me.” The two of you were only on your way to the dinner because of you. It’s your fault. Your fault. Your fault. “It should have been me!”
You feel fingertips lightly touch your aching shoulder. From his earlier position near the doorway, Jimin is suddenly right next to you. “No, it shouldn’t have. And it’s not your fault, Y/n,” he says. 
“Grief is natural and necessary, really, for the healing process,” Dr. Greene adds. “But Nurse Jimin is right, you shouldn’t blame yourself.” She looked back at her chart. “Jimin, you’re on call for the night, yes?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Good. Keep an eye on her pain levels. Y/n, if you’re uncomfortable or need anything during the night, press this button and Jimin will come check in on you, alright?”
You nod numbly. You don’t care. You hope you do die during the night, so you can at least be with Taehyung. 
Jimin leaves and returns in what feels like both an hour and two seconds, holding a clear bag full of liquid and a bottle of pills.
“Take one of these to help you sleep. This is for your blood pressure – it’s still low – and we’ve added more morphine.”
You simply hold out your hand for the bottle, shake out a pill, and swallow it down without water. Why would you need water when the love of your life is gone?
“Remember, press the button if you need anything,” Jimin says. “I’ll be right here for you.”
“Mm.” You turn over as much as you comfortably can and almost immediately fall into a hopefully dreamless sleep.
If only you were so lucky.
The crash. The moment of the shooting star. Over and over and over again.
“Y/n! Come on, baby, wake up!” You can’t see anything, but you can hear his voice. “They’ll be here soon, you have to hang on for me, okay?”
7.
“Help! Somebody help! No, she’s worse than me, hurry up!”
H.
“Miss? Can you hear me?” 
“Shit, he’s coding!”
L.
“Y/n?” You feel yourself being gently shaken, and still half-dreaming, your body gives a great shudder from the accident. “I’m sorry to wake you. I just need to take your vitals.”
“Blue,” you reply, barely able to form the word. You saw it. “The car was blue.” 
When you look up, you realize that it’s not Jimin, but a nurse you’ve never seen before. She pauses for a moment, clearly perplexed, before she blinks.
“Oh! You were in a car accident?”
“The car was blue,” you continue, scared to lose the thought. You’re a professor of writing at a top university, you should be able to express yourself more fluently. But your words seem to escape you before you can capture them. “License 7-H-L.”
“Oh, my… the nurse looks around before grabbing a pen clipped to her scrubs and scribbling the numbers onto a notepad beside you. “You’re a regular detective!”
“Where’s Jimin?” You ask. You don’t know this new nurse, but at least you trust Jimin.
“Oh, his shift ended,” she replies. “He’ll be back tonight! In the meantime, can you tell me how you feel?”
“I’m… dizzy. My heart…” You can hear it pounding hard in your ears, far too quickly, and leaving you lightheaded. Your whole body hurts, centralized in your leg and chest, far worse than last night.
“Your blood pressure must have gone back to normal, let me get that saline off for you. How’s the pain? Your morphine should have worn off by now.”
You wince. “Bad.”
“Okay, I’ll adjust that.” The nurse fiddles with your IV before turning back to you. “I think your mother will be here soon. In the meantime, is there anything I can do for you?”
“Actually… can you tell her not to come?” A wave of guilt tries to wash over you, but it’s overpowered by the darkness already inside. “I just want to sleep today. She shouldn’t bother.” You pause. “I don’t want any visitors.” “Ah- sure thing, whatever you’d like,” the nurse chirps hesitantly. “Oh, and… what happened to your hair?”
“What do you mean?”
The nurse points. “You’re missing a chunk of hair, I’m guessing from the accident. Hey, maybe when you get out you can try a new style!”
“Yeah, maybe.” You lay back down and stare at the ceiling, wishing only that it would fall apart and crush you. What’s the point of anything without Taehyung? But… what about your students, your classes?
The day passes in a blur, and your intermittent napping keeps you barely aware of your surroundings. You don’t dream of the crash again – it’s a blessing, but at the same time you wish you could remember the rest of the license plate. You finally awaken for real once dusk has settled on the hospital.
You press the button, and immediately Jimin is in your room. “What can I do for you, Y/n?”
You take a deep breath. “Can you please bring me a pad of paper and a pencil?” You were a teenager when your father passed away, and writing was the only thing that saved you then. Perhaps it will be your healing salve now.
“Sure, there’s paper right-” Jimin pauses beside your bed before handing you the pad of paper. “Here, sorry. And you can use one of my pens. How are you feeling?”
“Groggy,” you reply. You’re surprised by how weak your grip on the pencil feels. “Numb. It hurts, but…”
“I’ll make a note for the doctor. Don’t worry, I promised your mom that I’d help you get better. Your lung should be healing soon,” Jimin says. “But I need to change the bandages on your chest tube, if that’s okay?” “Yeah.” You forgot it was there, the clear tube coming out of your chest. It’s held in place with bandages, which Jimin carefully removes before cleaning off your skin and placing new ones down. He’s wearing a silver locket that you’ve never noticed before. It suits him, shining against his skin.
“Thank you,” you say as he finishes taking your vitals. 
“I’m happy to help.”
The next week passes in a blur; between crying fits for Taehyung, assuring your mother that you’re alright, scribbling down everything on your mind, and forcing yourself to sleep simply to avoid the reality of waking hours, you barely have a second to consider your own healing process.
It isn’t until Dr. Greene beams at you that you register: physically, you’re feeling a lot better, and after a week of bed rest and god awful depression, you’re ready to try hobbling around. 
“Looks like you might actually get out a few days early,” Dr. Greene says. “We’ll be able to remove that chest tube tonight.” Beside you, your mother begins crying with relief. 
“Wonderful.” It’s still hard to smile, but you manage a weak attempt. Later that day, you hear a bit of commotion in the hallway, and soon the nurse brings in a huge basket of cards, flowers, and stuffed animals.
“Woah… what’s all this?” With effort, you sit up and take the offered basket. The sweet smell of the flowers is a welcome change to the cold sanitation of the hospital. 
“From your students!” The nurse says happily. “Some even sent you books!”
“Aww, they’re sweet.” You flip through one of the books and notice that all your advisees have signed the title page and scribbled well-wishes in the margins of the chapters. Their kindness and love sparks your first real smile since the accident.
You spend the day reading, counting down the hours until your chest tube is removed. When you’re finally wheeled to the OR and numbed up so they can sew the hole in your chest shut, you feel relief. Your leg is still in a cast, but at least your body is fighting for you. 
That night, you’re drifting off to sleep when you feel a painful tugging on your chest, right where your stitches are. “Mm?” You blink sleepily and see Jimin’s silhouette standing over you.
“Ah, Y/n. I’m sanitizing your wound so it heals well, don’t mind me. How are you feeling?”
“I’m a little sore,” you reply honestly. “It’s not too bad, though.” “Let me fix that for you.” You can see Jimin’s dark figure change something on your IV. “That’ll help you feel better.”
“Thanks,” you mumble, feeling sleep begin to overtake you.
“It’s my pleasure, Y/n.” That night, your dreams are choppy and chaotic. At one point, you dream that your body is on fire; at another, you’re back in the accident but instead of Taehyung, it’s Jimin. The sun has barely risen before you bolt upwards. “Gah!” Your throat is burning, dry, painful – it feels like you’ve swallowed sand.
It must be extra early, because Jimin is still there. He rushes to your bedside. “Y/n? What’s wrong?”
“I- who are you? I need… water…” you croak, your vision swimming before you. You don’t know who this man is, and you don’t know where you are. You can vaguely feel yourself falling backwards.
“Okay, let me get you some- wait, Y/n!”
~~~
You awaken with Jimin, Dr. Greene, and another nurse standing over you. Packed in bed beside you are several ice packs. Even so, you feel your body sweating. 
“What… happened?” You manage. Your tongue feels thick in your mouth.
“You woke up with a bad fever. It’s lucky Jimin thought fast and worked to cool you down.” Dr. Greene said. “We’ll have to keep you monitored for longer than we anticipated.”
“W-Why do I have a fever?”
Dr. Greene’s brows knit together. “I… I’m not sure. We’ll keep an eye on you for the next couple of days and see if anything changes.”
Your fever goes up and down throughout the day, occasionally spiking dangerously enough that the monitors around you begin to beep in alarm. Around noon, Jimin comes in with water and a bottle of pills. He’s wearing a lopsided Santa hat along with his scrubs.
“Merry almost-Christmas. Here, take two for the fever.”
“What are you doing here?” You ask weakly. Even in your fever-addled mind, you remember he only comes at night.
“My shift changed. You need more urgent care anyways, and I volunteered.”
You swallow down the pills and nod. “Thanks.”
“Your bruises have improved,” Jimin observes, lightly touching your face.
“I guess. Fuck.” You feel the sudden urge to douse yourself in cold water. “I just want to get out of here.”
Jimin is quiet for a moment. “Have they found the car that hit you?”
“How would I know?” You feel a wave of dizziness hit you, likely brought on by a heartbeat that never seems to slow down. “Jimin, please…” Save me.
“We’ll see how you’re doing tomorrow,” Jimin says. “For now, you should stay awake. What’s your favorite color?”
“Uh, green.”
“Favorite food?” You can barely think. “Sushi.”
Jimin grins. “Favorite neighbor?”
You try to summon a chuckle. “Whichever one is saving my life.”
“Fantastic. I’ll see you later tonight. Your mother should be in here soon – let me adjust your pain meds, we kept you off of them from the fever but they might just help.”
The night feels eternal; you can’t sleep a wink, and your mother stays with you the whole night. Your fever continues to climb and although at first your breathing is rapid to cool you down, by the time the sun rises it feels as though your lungs have stopped working entirely. You don’t know if that’s normal for a fever.
“Doctor!” Your mother calls for what feels like the thousandth time. 
Dr. Greene hurries into the room, Jimin right behind her. “Is it her fever?”
“No, it’s…” Your mother points wordlessly at your hands. You can’t see what she’s talking about, but when you raise your hands you see your fingertips are blue. You can’t think. You can’t breathe. You don’t care. Everything is fuzzy, so fuzzy… the monitors are beeping again, but you can barely hear them. You’re gasping for air now, choking on nothing. You can’t breathe.
“Doctor Greene,” Jimin says loudly, “I think she’s overdosing.”
“Lord, you may be right. Get the Narcan!”
Jimin darts out of the room and returns just as your eyes begin to flutter closed. Taehyung… 
~~~
There’s a cliff. Taehyung is there, you know it. You just need to jump. The moment you start walking, though, it’s almost as if you’re being pulled away from the edge. No! You open your eyes. Has it been minutes? Days?
“Dear god,” your mother says breathlessly. “She’s awake.”
“How on earth…?” Dr. Greene wonders, wiping her forehead. “Jimin, props to you for your quick thinking. But an overdose? How?”
“Doctor, it’s possible that with her weakness and weight loss, plus the fact that we held off the morphine for several days, an average dose might have caused her to OD.” Jimin suggests. His voice seems to carry more authority than even Dr. Greene’s.
“Yes, perhaps… but the fever?”
“Hm…” Jimin reaches forward and prods at the stitches on your chest. You immediately flinch, your raspy voice yelping in pain. “An infection. Possibly blood poisoning.”
“You know, you really might be right,” Dr. Greene says thoughtfully. “It’s not impossible. Okay, we’ll start you on an antibacterial and switch to lower-grade painkillers.” With this note, Dr. Greene and Jimin file out, leaving you with your mother.
“Momma, did you ever find the car?” You ask, gripping her hand urgently. The owner of that car killed your husband; you want them brought to justice.
“No, sweetie, I’m sorry.”
“What about the license plate?”
“Well, none of the witnesses saw it-”
“No,” you shake your head. “I- the nurse wrote it down. On…” you point to the notepad beside you. “The first page.”
Your mother picks up the abused pad of paper, filled with random journal entries and doodles, and flips to the front. “Y/n, there’s nothing here. It’s blank. Maybe you dreamed it?”
“What? No.” You’re sure that the nurse wrote it down for you. “Check on the floor.”
After a brief but thorough search, the paper doesn’t turn up. What had happened? You can’t possibly remember the partial plate now. Shit. And even so, it was a literal fever dream – you could have made the numbers up.
“Y/n, I’m going to go for an early Christmas dinner at Aunt Ella’s, but I’ll be back tomorrow morning, okay?” 
“Sure, mom.” She’s barely slept, after all. 
The next several days pass and you gradually begin to recover. The lab tests confirmed your blood poisoning, and you feel more grateful than ever that Jimin managed to catch it early – it could have killed you. It’s now been more than two weeks since the accident, and finally the doctor tells you that you’ll be ready to go home soon. As Christmas approaches, you’ve heard holiday music float through the air and bows and wreaths appear in your hospital room and down the hall. Even with the holiday cheer, the loss of the license plate weighs heavy on your mind.
“Merry Christmas Eve! Time to get up and try walking around!” The afternoon nurse says cheerfully as she helps you out of bed. With your heavy green cast making your leg feel detached, you clunk around while holding the nurse’s arm. You near the window, which overlooks a parking lot decorated with dirty snow, and gaze down onto the cars. Can you ever feel safe in a car again?
“Which one’s yours?” You ask the nurse absentmindedly, suddenly struck by another bolt of grief. Her life is normal. She has a car and goes to work.
“That white one right there next to the blue Prius,” she replies, pointing. You mindlessly follow her finger, when suddenly –
Blue. You clutch at your chest and stumble backwards, nearly falling if she hadn’t caught you. “That’s…” No, it can’t be. But in your heart and deep, deep in your memory… “Can you read the plate number on that blue car next to yours?”
“Uh, it’s a little too far away,” she replies, squinting. “I think it’s Jimin,’s though, I always see him pulling in just as my shift is over.”
Jimin. “Does it look dented at all?” You manage. “His car?”
“Ah… a little? I’m not sure.”
Jimin does have a blue Prius, you know that from seeing it in his driveway every day. So why, today, did the thought strike you so violently?
“You know, I think I’m tired. I’m going to lay down.”
“Oh, okay. Do you want some water or to go to the bathroom?”
“No. I just want to be alone.”
“Okay.” The nurse looks worried, but leaves you settled back in your bed. Night falls quickly and you hear a knock on the door. Jimin lets himself in, a bottle of pills in his hand.
“Hey, I heard you’ll be getting discharged soon,” he says cheerfully. He’s still wearing the Santa hat.
Blue. “Yeah, hopefully.”
“Awesome. Well, you need to take these,” he says, shaking two pills from the bottle in his hand and handing them to you.”
“What are they for?”
“They’ll help you sleep and let your blood vessels dilate to regulate your blood pressure.”
“Mm.” You wash them down with his offered water. Almost as soon as you swallow, you feel your body rebel against you – you lean over and vomit onto the floor. The smell makes you gag and you feel everything you’ve eaten come up a second time, the stomach acid burning your throat.
“What- what did you give-” you can’t finish your sentence as your stomach convulses again. Jimin rushes over to you with a bucket and you lean into it, retching. You continue dry heaving long after your body is completely emptied, while Jimin rubs your back reassuringly. “G-get the doctor,” you croak.
“Are you going to be okay alone-?” “Yes. Please, just…” your body shivers as he gets up and leaves. What did he give you? You’re doubtless that those pills caused your vomiting. Just the thought sends you back to your bucket, although you’ve no more left to give. 
“What on earth happened?” Dr. Greene says, rushing in. Jimin is close behind her.
“He gave me pills…” you gasp as your body tries to vomit again. The muscle contractions leave you feeling boneless. “They made me throw up.”
“You’ve got no known allergies on file…” Dr. Greene says, consulting a chart by your bed. “Jimin, what did you give her?”
Jimin produces a bottle clearly labelled DOXEPINE. “Just to help her sleep, she was asking for something earlier.”
Your heart drops. “That’s not-” you’re interrupted by another gagging fit. You want to scream at your body that there’s nothing left, but you can barely speak. “Not the same-” fuck.
“She must have a sensitivity to the Doxepine,” Dr. Greene says thoughtfully. “Jimin, make sure she stays hydrated. If she keeps throwing up we’ll need to keep her longer for observation.”
“Yes, Doctor.”
“Ngh… no…” Dr. Greene leaves before you can tell her that that wasn’t the same pill bottle.
“Here, drink this,” Jimin says, offering you a bottle of water.
“What did you give to me?” You ask, panting. As soon as the water touches your tongue you reach for the bucket, your body rejecting it immediately.
Jimin blinks innocently. “Sleeping pills.”
“Fuck off, that wasn’t the… same bottle.”
“Y/n, you’re sick and grieving, it’s understandable that your eyes are playing tricks on you-”
“No. You… poisoned me!” You summon what strength you have left and swipe at the nurse, who’s now leaning over you. Your fingers catch the silver chain around his neck, and the motion knocks the locket open.
Fluttering out of the locket and onto your bandaged chest is… hair?
No, not hair. Your hair. The color, and texture… it’s exactly the same.
You’re missing a chunk of hair, I’m guessing from the accident, the nurse had said.
Not from the accident. Almost in slow motion, your eyes travel up to meet Jimin’s. 
“Y/n, you’re acting erratic.” As if nothing happened, he plucks your hair from the bed, tucks it back into the locket, and straightens his Santa hat. “I’ll have to tell the doctor to consider sedatives. Merry Christmas, Y/n.”
“No-” Your stomach contracts once more and by the time you look up, gasping for breath, he’s gone.
You spend another sleepless night in the hospital, growing more paranoid by the minute. You refuse to eat or drink anything you’re given – you’re still nauseous, and what if it’s full of sedatives? 
When dawn breaks on Christmas Day, you’ve never felt less cheer. You’re concerned about Jimin; the car is surely a coincidence, but the hair? And the pills?
“Y/n?” Dr. Greene knocks on the door. “Merry Christmas. How are you feeling?”
“I want to get out of here,” you respond immediately.
Dr. Greene smiles. “We’ll see how you do moving around today. How’s your nausea?” 
“Better,” you lie. Anything to leave. You can handle nausea at home.
“Wonderful. Well, Nurse Jimin will be taking care of you today, since your other nurses are off duty. Press the button if you need anything.”
You nod, shivering. Should you tell Dr. Greene? Before you can consider it, though, she’s left the room.
Hours later, Jimin pops his head in, his Santa hat crooked. The locket is still swinging from his neck. 
“Hey! Dr. Greene said if you’re doing well by the end of the day, you might be discharged for tomorrow!”
You stare at him. Can he really pretend nothing is wrong? “Great.”
“Let’s get you up and walking around.” Jimin offers you his arm. At first you don’t want to take it, but your legs are too weak on your own. He slowly leads you out of your room and down the hall before circling back. You pass another window overlooking the parking lot and there, in the same spot, is the blue car. From this window, you can see much better.
“Which car’s yours?” you ask quietly.
“That blue Prius next to the white one,” he says cheerfully, pointing.
Finally, when you squint you can read the license plate: 7HLC946.
7HL. Your body stiffens. It’s the same car. Then, that means… you swivel slowly until you’re staring at Jimin, who’s still looking out of the window. He killed your husband.
He leads you back to your room. You feel frozen, and not from the wintertime. When you go inside, you hear a soft click. Your eyes widen. He locked the door.
“How are you feeling?” he asks softly from behind you.
“F-fine. Perfect,” you reply, your voice shaking.
“You know, you really have to stop getting yourself in trouble,” he says, strolling to the bed and smoothing down your sheets. Your eyes dart to the locked door. If you made a break for it with your cast, he could still beat you to it. “Every time you’re supposed to get discharged, something happens, and then who has to save you?”
“I’ve recovered,” you say firmly. Is it an ego thing? He wants credit for doing his job?
“Before, you always had your husband to save you,” Jimin says, standing. His eyes are drilling holes into you. “Do you know why he’d always see you off at the door?”
“Wh-what are you talking about?” “It’s so I couldn’t even look at you. He was always around, but not this time. And this time it was me that saved your life.” Jimin is advancing now, still smiling serenely. Your heart pounding, you back away, your cast clunking against the floor. 
“It was you,” you whisper when your back hits the window. “Your car. You hit us.”
“Almost gave me a heart attack when I saw you remembered my plate,” he says now, examining his nails. “Lucky I saw it before your mother did. How is she, by the way?”
“You… you killed my husband!” Your scream is more animal than human when it rips from your throat. You’re fully prepared to leap at Jimin and take the life he took from Taehyung when he pulls out a syringe.
“Shhh…” he says, stepping forward. “What did I say about sedation?”
Your blood runs cold. You don’t want to know what’s in the syringe, or what he’d do to you if he injected you with it.
Caught between him and the window, you freeze. You have to get away from him. You turn around and swing your heavy cast at the window. 
With a painful CRASH, the glass shatters. Shards fly everywhere, several of them catching and slicing your skin. You hear commotion outside and below as you shoot for the window and try to grab onto the windowsill. You nearly sob when the glass in your grip breaks off the windowsill. Almost… just like your dream of the cliff, though, you’re dragged back from the escape. Jimin locks one arm around your neck and pulls you away from the window.
You feel a sharp prick in your arm and, seconds later, your muscles seem to melt. If Jimin weren’t supporting your weight you would have fallen. Shit. What did he do to you?
“It’s for your own good, my love,” he says, carrying you to the bed and tucking the blankets in around you. Your tongue feels too heavy for your mouth; you can’t speak, and you can barely move your arms. 
There’s a loud banging on the door. “Y/n! Are you alright?”
“One second,”Jimin says to you before striding to the door and opening it.
“Jimin! What happened?” The voice belongs to a doctor you don’t recognize.
“Hey, Dr. Kim. Y/n started being combative and went for the window. Luckily, I got her calmed down and back into bed.”
Help. Your vocal chords won’t respond to you. “Hhe…”
“Goodness. We should get her moved out while the window is being repaired.” “I agree, but she did just fall asleep and she hasn’t slept in a while. I suggest giving her an hour.”
“Alright, well, please keep an eye on her.”
“Sure thing, Doctor.” Jimin shuts the door and locks eyes with you. 
“I’ve waited for you for a while, you know,” he says, sitting on the edge of the bed. His position pins down your left arm, but your right is still free. If only you could move it. “You never got sick, or hurt. I checked. You never even came to visit.” Jimin continues smiling, but his eyes are cold. “That wasn’t very nice. It’s your fault that I had to make you come visit.”
“Stuh… you,” you gasp, forcing your head to clear. “Psy…” Let me go, you want to scream. You’re straining with the effort just to lift your head.
“I know, I know, why didn’t I just talk to you at your house? Well, your guardian was always there. But here, I’m in control. And I’m the one that can save you.”
You can sense feeling returning to your arms. If he keeps talking, it might give you more time to recover from your paralysis. Luckily, Jimin seems so relieved that he can finally tell you everything that he doesn’t seem close to shutting up. 
“Do you know how many times your mother has thanked me for saving your life? How Dr. Greene said I was her favorite nurse?” Jimin caresses your cheek, becoming more animated as he speaks. “Even you, Y/n, you called me your angel.”
You try to bite him when his hand gets close, but your jaw muscles are slack. C’mon… 
“And you’re right, I am your angel. I’m your guardian angel, and I’ll always keep you safe.” You can almost lift your hand. At his words, he leans in to kiss your forehead and with enormous effort, you use the same moment to lift and swipe your bloody hand, still gripping the jagged glass from the window, at him. The glass catches Jimin right in the neck and he gasps and sputters, pressing a hand to his throat as bright red blood gushes from the wound, spattering you and staining the bed. Meanwhile, you collapse, your strength entirely spent.
Jimin staggers upright, hand outstretched towards you. When he tries to speak, his voice is a mere gurgle.
“Y/n- you… no…” with that, he falls to the floor. You see him try and fail to rise again before Jimin sighs and is still at last.
How did you wind up here? 
As you slump back into your bed, with him lying on the floor next to you, a hazy thought informs you that it must look like a scene straight out of Romeo and Juliet.
Although, you think ruefully, glancing down at the sharp shard of glass clenched in your fits, I don’t think Juliet would have done this.
“Merry fucking Christmas.”
288 notes · View notes
yandere-society · 3 years
Note
Will there be a sequel to the ultimatum.
Nope! Y-S is a oneshot only blog 😊
However, you can go to an admin’s personal an ask for a sequel there!
1 note · View note
yandere-society · 3 years
Text
Love L(eyes)
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Pairing: Kim Namjoon x Female Reader
Synopsis: He was a bit odd, quiet, mysterious and studious, but you liked him. Found him more agreeable than some of your other coworkers. Besides, you were never the one to judge, no matter how strange the rumors around him were. This is why you happily accepted his slightly childish, secret Santa-exchange Christmas gift. And being so incautious is what caused your own undoing
Word Count: 3.4k
Warnings: Attempt at Black Comedy, Yandere themes, Stalking, Obsession, Mentions of Smut, Riding, Orgasms, Voyeurism, Blackmail, Y/N Stupidity, Unedited 
Admin: @roses-ruby​
Request:
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“Looks like someone’s had one too many Hawaiian-flavored shots again.”
Your coworker remarks at the girl in the distance hogging the karaoke machine and tearing her lungs out to Wham’s Last Christmas. You huff humorously at her and at your other colleagues who became shitfaced to overly spiked punch as an excuse to get loose in their normally constrained work environment. Some other time you would have joined them, but this week had been especially exhausting for you.
The supervisor, after zealously creating the holiday season itself, had sprained her ankle 2 days ago – leaving you in charge. As if it wasn’t chaotic enough thanks to her dedication for winter festivities, it was now all in your hands and the both of you couldn’t have been more different. Whereas she was Mrs. Claus wrapped in jubilant, giddy and imaginative red wrapping, you were a nonchalant grey piece of paper. Which is exactly what you decided to do with everything she had planned out for the office’s Christmas party:
Caroling? Those who want to sing can go ahead.
Gingerbread house competition? Literally not happening.
Secret Santa? Just give the presents when you can.
It may have been uninteresting but as long as adults had their alcohol – you eye the elated faces of your coworkers – it wouldn’t matter.
“___?” You jump slightly, spinning around when you heard your name being spoken in a low, almost intimate timbre.
Namjoon stood a few inches away from you, holding what looked like a present in both hands. Your coworker, Jin, raises an eyebrow at him.
“…Mm…this is for you.”
“Oh!” You were starting to think you had been left out of the drawing hat, “Thank you so much, Joon!”
Gently grabbing it from his arms, you hold it out and give it a little shake.
“Can I open it?” You ask, trying to follow ‘gift etiquette.’ He stares at you for a moment with an unreadable expression and makes you wonder if you had said something wrong.
“I would prefer if you wait until you got home.”
“Oh-uh, alright. Thank you.”
With that, he turns to leave.
“…Happy holidays, Joon!”
He shifts his head to give you one last look, a small smile on his plump lips.
“Thank you. Happy holidays.”
When he’s out of hearing range, you hear Seokjin sigh loudly.
“I mean…he’s hot but isn’t he kind of weird? It’s such a waste.”
“He’s not weird…”
“Girl, listen to this- you know the office slut?” He kindly refers to Lisa, one of the female secretaries, “She was all over him last summer until she finally got herself into his room. Turns out he lives in a fucking warehouse in the middle of nowhere! I don’t know exactly what she saw, but she’s been spooked out ever since and avoids him as much as possible. Like just last week, I was lurking around and thought I saw the both of them make eye contact while passing each other in the hallway and that poor girl! She looked as if she almost soiled herself.”
“Those are just rumors, Jin.” You roll your eyes at his exaggerated tone, “Maybe she got rejected? And as for Joon…I think he’s just a little shy.”
“Whatever. All I’m saying is don’t be too shocked if you find a woman’s head in that box.”
You snort at his ridiculousness, placing Namjoon’s gift on your work desk. The drinks you had before the party start catching up to you and you excuse yourself from Jin to head to the restroom. Once you’re in the stall, you sigh, placing your palm against the wall of the stall and leaning towards it. Perhaps you were slightly more tipsy than you had originally imagined.
Just then you heard what sounded like two pairs of kitten heels walk into the foyer.
“Fuck.” You mutter as you hear them talk about whatever the fuck. Social gatherings really weren’t your thing and you wanted to go home since privacy was nonapparent in this office. When you just about became mentally prepared to empty your bladder and scramble out of the building, you heard your name being called, pulling your attention away from the matter at hand.
“___ scrapped the Gingerbread house idea, isn’t it crazy. The supervisor lets her get away with so much even though they are worlds apart.”
Ah yes, gossip. How easy it was to spread misinformation. What they glossed over was the part where the supervisor hated your guts, however, you just happen to be two grown, working women who were able to reach compromises for mutual benefit. The gingerbread project was scrapped because you managed to convince your jolly boss lady that it was an impossible occurrence to accurately judge without her gingerbread expertise. And it was nothing but the truth.
“Well, whatever, I didn’t want to participate in that dumb event anyway. But you know what really irks me? It’s when she thinks she’s so special and unique.”
Special? When have you ever-
“She honestly thinks she’s so different.” The girl continues, “Plastered on the wall each time we throw an office party- whispering and giggling with men. Did you see her with Namjoon and Jin today?”
“Isn’t Jin gay?”
“That’s besides the point.” She sounded exasperated, “What I’m saying is that her lack of interest in everything makes her uninteresting! She may think she’s above us when she pulls all these stunts but she’s so boring, it’s almost painful to watch.”
“Pfft, you’re a bitch.” You hear laughter and the clack of compact powder before their footsteps retreat from the foyer.
For a minute you just stand there, thinking about nothing. Sure, you didn’t expect everyone to like you, but you were on friendly terms with everyone in your office. Even as a number 2, you’ve never raised your voice or demanded anything unreasonable. The saddest part was that you knew exactly who those two girls were and had conversed with them on multiple occasions.
You were definitely sober now as you felt a small prick of annoyance stab at your heart.
A girl who tries her hardest to not be like ‘other girls.’ A boring girl. Is this truly what people thought of you?
_
It’s not too late when you get home – but it feels like you’ve been away for ages.
You groan as you remove your heels, tossing them somewhere near the entrance area as you trudge further into your studio apartment. With weary arms, you throw the gift onto the bed and fling yourself besides it, listening to the mattress creak for a second before silence surrounds you once more. Although you decided to sleep as soon as you got through your door, you knew you would just overthink and confuse yourself by remembering what those girls said.
It shouldn’t matter…it was just casual conversation…not like they wanted to kill you or something, you rationalize. Also, if you were someone who cared so much for what others said, then you couldn’t have continued bearing such a laidback personality for this long, could you? Still, something about the confidence they had in their malicious words bothered you.
“Ugh,” You grumble, sitting up and placing the gift on your lap to distract yourself from all the negativity. Trying to clear your head, you tear open the bright colored wrapping as swiftly as you could. A smile crosses your face when you think about cold, silent Namjoon carefully handling vibrant Christmas paper over this box. Didn’t seem like him.
He always had a peculiar reputation around the office, but he was never anything but duly courteous towards you. Though you never thought much of anyone from your workplace, you did think well of him and his kindness. They denied it like crazy, but everyone had a crush on the smart and mysterious Namjoon, even Jin. You tear off the tape connecting the flaps together and carefully pull out whatever was inside. And that’s when you come face to face with a…stuffed teddy bear.
Really, just a regular brown bear with soft, fuzzy fabric – nothing fancy. Now you were even more confused. Did you ever give him the vibe of being a stuffed-animal lover? Actually, aren’t there some guys who give this kind of stuff to girls, like on Valentines? Joon probably didn’t know what to get you and went with something generic, you deduce.
You stare into its eyes. Plastic black orbs lifelessly leer back at you. When you began to feel oddly uneasy, Jin’s story suddenly flashed through your mind. There wasn’t a head in the box like he said, but it didn’t mean this bear couldn’t be an ominous gift.
What if…it had a small camera stuffed inside the layers of cotton like in those horror movies?
As soon as you conjure the question, you shake your head, cringing at your own thoughts. Just because some people found him disagreeable didn’t mean he was an actual creep who would do that. You, of all people, knew how quickly false notions spread throughout that office. If they were wrong about you, then they were definitely wrong when regarding the quiet Namjoon. He was a simple, introverted man your insufferable coworkers picked on and this was just an innocent teddy and nothing more. Exhaling through your nose, you were about to throw it back in the box and forget about it when a memory abruptly froze you.
“-she’s so boring, it’s almost painful to watch.”
Ok…as a rational individual, you know there’s no camera in this toy, you know that. But if there was a camera – it would mean Joon wants you in some fashion. Would you want to ~secretly~ watch a person you didn’t have a crush on? Exactly. If there was a camera, it would also mean… that when those bitches from the restroom see you, someone plain and inconsiderable in their eyes, be the object of ‘office hottie’ Kim Namjoon’s desire…
Wouldn’t they eat their own words?
The thought instantly sends endorphins throughout your brain. How satisfying. Little old, boring you being stalked by the sexiest, most capable man in the office.
“Hmph.” You smirk at the bear before looking around your room. There was a shelf on the wall facing your bed, stacked with some novels you read back in college. Pushing yourself off the mattress, you walk up to the shelf and lightly thrust away some of the books before placing the teddy bear on an empty spot.
This was silly, you think, gazing at the bear in amusement. Although you were certain there was no camera, the mere thought about spiting those women made you ignore all the red flags which were present in your head since you grew up as a woman in a male-dominated reality. Honestly, you were too caught up in your silly revenge dream to even care.
This was silly, but…strangely fun.
_
Since then you did everything which requires adequate privacy in front of the bear.
Sleeping, getting dressed for work, masturbating, changing underwear and even when you just had to get out of tight jeans and into sweats – you did it all in the once place you knew you had the potential of being ‘watched.’ For some reason, you couldn’t take these actions seriously. Everything was just a game to you and you were actually starting to have fun with the conception of someone observing you round the clock. You started to feel ridiculous sometimes, especially when you tried to act sexy each time you stood in front of your bed.
This was definitely something you had no idea you’d be so into. It was as if you were really beginning to believe there was a camera in the fucking bear. Well if there is – you hope Namjoon likes black underwear as much as you do.
“Nnh- ahh-” You moan as you slam down on your boyfriend’s stomach. He grunts in pleasure, tightening his hold on your flexing hips as you arched your spine out further. With your head thrown back, you slightly open an eyelid to peek over at the “spycam” teddy bear on the wall shelf.
A camera’s lens should be wide enough to catch this angle, right?
“___,” You look back at your boyfriend when he groans your name, suddenly remembering he was under you, “You’re so into it today.”
“Um, y-yeah…”
What else could you say? Tell him the truth about how you’re some pervert who’s currently getting off on the idea that there might be some creepy hot dude watching you bare-naked, fucking another man right this minute? ‘Yeah’ was the only logical choice of words you could invoke. Your boyfriend was a nice guy – someone you met on a dating app. You weren’t exactly looking for anything long-term, but you did want to get off without the hassles and dangers of a one-night stand. It’s been going on for two months now and although you don’t think ‘he’s the one’ or anything, he was calming to be around.
“Oh-oh cumming!”
You stare as his mouth becomes unhinged and his eyebrows knot in frustration. As you said, he’s a nice guy but you wish he wouldn’t look so strange each time he reached his high. If someone was watching you both, this kind of thing is embarrassing.
Wait, what? You stop moving on his dick as soon as the thought crosses your mind. Why are you even thinking about something like that? After a few seconds, the pressure on his chest releases and you mindlessly move off of him, joining him on the mattress. He glances at you in confusion as you stare at the ceiling.
“But you didn’t cum.”
“It’s fine, I’m not really in the mood.”
He sits up, head still turned towards you as he removes his condom, “Uhhhh…You sure?”
Instead of looking at him, you turn your head in the direction of the wall where the bear was placed. Dark orbs gazed back at you.
“Yeah.”
It was just a game to you, but it was starting to get strange.
_
You stretch your dormant muscles as you sit up in your chair.
It was your first day back from the three-day holiday break and you were already in a state of mental detriment. Existing in the same room as people who probably hated you was awkward. Not being able to accurately work through your sudden Christmas impulse of voyeurism also weighed you down. You passed out last night, but the first thing you would do once you got home is throw that stuffed bear away. The game had gone long enough, three days to be exact, and it wasn’t fun anymore. Not when you were involving others.
A part of you felt bad for Namjoon, but you’re sure he wouldn’t actually care.
His obsession with you was just your own delusion after all.
With a groan you get up, gathering the coffee mug from your desk. Maybe some caffeine would help you get it together. You slog into the breakroom, walking up to the freshly brewed coffee pot and pouring a large dose into your cup.
As you’re about to take your first sip, you hear the breakroom door creak open. You’re surprised to see Lisa, but she seems even more surprised – astonished even – when she meets your eyes. For a moment she just stands there by the door, not moving her hand off the handle as she leers at you as if you were a ghoul.
Any other time you would have been confused and creeped out, but right now you could only mentally sigh. Did she perhaps think badly of you as well? It would explain why she always avoided you.
“You should…stay away from Kim Namjoon.”
What?
“Uh…what?”
“I…you should stay away from him. He’s…to you he….”
You squint as the girl stares at the floor, struggling to form words. Why was she suddenly talking about Namjoon and you in the same sentence? In that moment, a look of assurance built up on her face and she looked back up at you, parting her mouth.
But then you see her eyes widen in horror and her shoulders stiffen as she takes a step back.
“Lisa?”
“I- uh- I have to go-” She says, sprinting out of the room before she even finishes her sentence. What the hell was that?
“Good morning, ___.”
Fuck, you recognized that low timbre. You spin around, almost spilling the hot brown liquid as you do, to meet with the one face you were dreading all day. Namjoon stood by you, holding onto his own mug and smiling at you quietly. After every stupid thing you’ve just done in the past couple of days, you really didn’t want to meet him. But you couldn’t abruptly run away either.
“H-hi…Joon…G-good morning.” You mutter, side stepping so he has better access to the coffee pot.
“Cold out, isn’t it.” He makes conversation and you hum along, taking a sip of caffeine as you dwell on how to run back to your desk without seeming too crazy. Namjoon continues to talk about the weather while your anxiety grows. Why were you suddenly so nervous? Were you maybe still delusional; convincing yourself about how he is madly in love with you?
He stops talking for a moment then, and looks over at you who is not present in reality at all. You don’t notice his dark gaze rake over your body nor his grin at your worry.
“You know,” He mutters, almost inaudible, “I do love black underwear as much as you.”
“Yeah.” You sigh in fake amusement, not really processing what he just said. Until you do.
It takes you a minute or two of staring at your coffee to finally register his words into your brain. You slowly look up at him, no traces of amusement or even the previous pointless uneasiness apparent on your current expression.
“What?”
“I said,” He turns his whole body towards you, “I do love black underwear on you.”
“I…” You take a step back, suddenly feeling very small next the man glaring at you, “I’m sorry?”
He raises his hand and fear instantly paralyzes you. When he touches the hair on your head with his fingers, you wanted nothing more than to shove him off and run away. Instead you were caught – irreversibly immobilized by the way he captured you in his gaze.
“Don’t look so surprised, didn’t you want me to see?”
A million and one curses just flash through your mind. This wasn’t real, this was not happening. He was not saying all this. You were probably lying dead next to your boyfriend and still dreaming. That had to be it, because there was no way. No way Namjoon was saying what he is currently in the middle of saying. It was a game; it was just a game.
“Honestly, I thought you would have thrown away such a silly thing as soon as you found it. Did you know it costed me a total of $30? I can’t believe such a cheap investment worked.”
Your breath hitches as you listen to him speak. Mom always called you a fucking idiot, but wow you were a fucking idiot. You were warned, you heard the rumors about him and you should have known. There was a difference between the gossip of drunk girls in the spur of the moment and the account of a very sober and concerned homosexual friend. Still, not wanting to face the present moment, you continue to deny it in your head.
“Nn- uh-” You move back, getting ready to make a run for it. Wishing Jin’s loud ass would somehow interrupt you both.
“I would stay still if I were you.” Namjoon smiles with a warning tone, making you halt, “You see I happen to have a lot of…information. Information which can end up in places it’s not supposed to. I’m sure both of us don’t want that.”
Tears prick the corner of your eyes. You knew exactly what he meant. He recorded you, he has footage of everything you did and he was threatening you. Every time you got undressed, slept, pleasured yourself and – fuck – you and your boyfriend. He’s seen everything. If those recordings end up online, you’d be finished. Forget about your boring girl reputation, if anyone saw those recordings, you wouldn’t even maintain a reputation to defend. And haven’t some women gotten fired over something similar?
“W-why?” You sob to him, not wanting to lose everything.
“Sshh, it’s okay.” He takes you in his arms, hugging you in a soft but firm manner. What else could you do but let him touch whatever he wanted. Although you couldn’t lie and say you were 100% certain the bear didn’t have a camera, you still passed it off as a joke. You messed up, bad. And around you stood the consequence.
“Aren’t holidays great?” He mumbles into your hair in a low, intimate timbre.
____
A/N: Merry Christmas everyone! Have a wonderful day -- 🍑
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yandere-society · 3 years
Text
Advent
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Pairing: Hoseok x fem!reader
Synopsis: It started out harmless, careless and cute - it made you smile. Small trinkets and endearing presents scattered around your room to the tune of 12 days. But as the song went on and December reached closer to its end, you realized none of it was as it once seemed and lets just say…you weren’t smiling any more.
Word Count: 1.2k
Warnings: yandere-themes, manipulation, physical touching
Admin: @nomnomsik​​
Request:
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Your boyfriend sat cheerfully in the living room, humming to himself in a tune of a Christmas carol. He knew for the time that you had been speaking to him, almost nearing ten minutes straight, your tangent on everything Christmas was not ending soon. He knew that he should be paying more attention to you, rather, the words you were saying, but he couldn’t help the way his ears shut off and his eyes stayed glued to you.
Honestly speaking, Hoseok found it quite amusing. You were so focused in your own world, your eyes drifting upward as if you wracked your brain to think. He knew that the historical stories of ornaments was such a topic that he could fall asleep too, yet to see you so wrapped up on it made him once again realize just how cute you could be.
It wasn’t until he felt something wet brush against his neck that he jumped, looking over to see you peck his neck, moving up to his cheek. He chuckled as you poked his shoulder.
“What’s wrong?” He asked, laughing as you retreated backward, folding your arms.
“Oh, nothing~” You say dryly. “I was just checking if you were listening, and from your reaction, I can tell that you dozed off into your thoughts.”
With your arms crossed against your chest, Hoseok slapped both of his hands together.
“Please forgive me~” He cutely asks, laughing when your lips break into a smile.
“Fine, guess I have no choice.” You tease, taking a seat next to him and snuggling into his arm.
In your hand was one of the gifts Hoseok had given to you this Christmas season. It seemed that he wanted to follow the advent tradition, giving you a present every day. The first couple of days were small presents, the custom made ornament in your hand signaling one of them.
You loved how thoughtful your boyfriend was, making little trinkets that he knew would make you smile and blossom the love you had for each other a bit more.
And so innocently you believed in this expectation until one particular wrapped present was handed over to you from Hoseok’s hands.
“Open it up.” He smiled, like a child awaiting the next new thing. “This one is definitely my favorite.”
The box was neatly wrapped in red with a cute bow on the top. You took a seat on the carpeting near the Christmas tree, wincing as your gut told you something was off with the smell that lingered in the air.
You brushed it off, playing it off until your fears were confirmed true as the lid to the box popped open. Your eyes widened as you stared in horror at the contents inside. You didn’t dare to move, your mouth glued shut.
When you had the courage to look over to Hoseok who had taken a seat next to you, the look on his face was scary nonetheless.
He was… grinning, almost like he had just won a trophy from a competition.
Yet, when your fingers slipped and the decapitated fingers and head of a person you knew bounced in its container, you screamed. Your legs moved first and while you swore you jumped as quickly as you could, Hoseok still caught onto your arm.
“Are you feeling alright?” Hoseok asks worriedly.
You flinch when he reaches his arms out, Hoseok suddenly pausing. When you look up at him with wide eyes, you regret your decision.
“Y-you...” You gulp, almost losing your footing.
Hoseok smiles, but it’s not one of his typical smiles. It doesn’t carry the innocence and sunlight quality they always did. Before, his smiles could warm up an entire room, they could reassure you, and bring comfort when you needed something.
But the smile he’s giving you, it sent chills down your spine. It isn’t until he opens his mouth that his entire expression changes.
He sighs dramatically, rolling his eyes.
“Ahhh, what a situation you put me into.” He says loudly, until his eyes look back at you as if staring deep into your soul. His eyebrows abruptly furrow as frustration builds into every wrinkle of skin.
“Well?!” He shouts, slamming his hand against the nearest wall.
“What do you want me to say?” His voice drops down several octaves from his initial yell, becoming more of a soft whisper as he cups your cheeks.
Despite the trembling of your legs and how much your brain continued to tell you to run, you stared back at him. His eyes were cloudy, a certain darkness hovering overtop them.
Even if it was December, the air between the two of you grew colder. Time seemed to freeze as the home that the two of you stayed in grew unnervingly quiet. You could feel the thumping of your heart ring in your ears as you felt the palm of your hands grow sweaty.
“H-how… But why…”
Hoseok brought his face closer to yours, placing both hands onto your shoulders as he gripped them tightly. As he loomed over you, his expression was different from the anger from before. Instead, it was scarily still, his eyes only wide.
“It’s honestly a shame that it had to come to this… That you had to realize.”
When you remained silent, Hoseok only brought his lips down on yours for a kiss.
“Are you upset that I’m not the person you imagined me to be?” He murmurs softly, close to your ear. “I honestly believed that you would understand me. After all, you love me.”
“So…” Your voice trembled as you felt your eyes water. “All of that…really did happen? You really did those things to other p-people?”
Hoseok comes incredibly close, leaning his forehead against yours. His warm breath fans over your face as he smiles.
“Of course I did. It shows how much I love you.” He answers as a matter of factly, without a pause to think about his answer.
You didn’t know you could feel any worse, your stomach churning as flashes of blood and decapitated body parts flickered in your memory. It made you even sicker when you imagined the way Hoseok, without an ounce of expression in his face, did what he had to do.
“I love you.” He whispers, caressing your skin. “I love you, I love you so much.” He repeats again in a mantra. It was almost as if the words he was saying could not express his complete adoration for you. How could a word of devotion feel so flat?
He knew that no matter how long it took, you’d understand. As he embraced your trembling figure, he imagined the day where you realized that his actions of harming the people who had hurt you were the deepest way of expressing his unending passion.
“Merry Christmas, dearest ___.”
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yandere-society · 3 years
Text
A Christmas Catastrophe
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Pairing: Yandere Collector Yoongi x Collector YN
Synopsis: YN’s always been a collector. She’s always had the desire to possess any and everything she’s set her heart on. So when she finds an item she’s been wanting for over a year, she jumps at the chance to finally have it, unaware of the trap that’s been set just for her . . . 
Word Count: 2422
Warnings: Yandere themes, Blood, Murder
Admin: @chimchimsauce​
Request:
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AN: This turned out way different than I was expecting it to, but I hope you enjoy it! It’s also pretty fucked up so . . .
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Collecting is in YN’s blood, she’s sure. Ever since she was a small child, she was drawn to items she found interesting - rocks, bouncy balls, figurines, etc. But as she got older and her pockets began to fill with money of her own, YN’s collecting habits skyrocketed. Common items that anyone could obtain just wouldn’t cut it for her anymore. She set her eyes on things that were rare - things most collectors could only hope to set their eyes upon in real life. It’s caused her to get quite the following online in niche collectors communities. People message her to try and buy items from her collection but she never accepts, not even when the amount of money they offer is astronomical.
Half the appeal of having something is the fact that other people want it.
But collecting rare and expensive items is not easy. YN spends countless hours every week scouring online marketplaces and thrift shops to find the items that she has on her wish list. Her constant hunt for things has taken her to a variety of places - she’s driven hundreds of miles to go to estate sales, taken flights to attend conventions, and once even dated a guy who was related to the original artist of a piece she wanted.
She was successful every time. There is no feeling as satisfying as the first time holding an item she’s been searching relentlessly for. But it always fades quickly and she’s on to the next thing, the desire to possess and collect overtaking her once more.
YN has done some pretty crazy things in pursuit of her collection, but non as crazy as this. It had taken YN over a year to find this one item she was looking for - a misprint of a novel written by an author who died two hundred years ago. Based on what people think, there are only about a thousand of them in existence. YN read the re-edited version of the book and found it rather dull, but there are people who are willing to pay over ten grand just to have it.
When she finally found one for sale, YN was quick to buy a plane ticket to fly halfway across the world to pick the tome up. She’s never been this far away from home, but the thought of getting the book pushes any anxiety she may have out of mind. YN has no idea why or how this book ended up in South Korea of all places. But she’s even more surprised by the fact that it somehow landed in a small second-hand shop in a back alley of Seoul.
Thankfully, when she called last week to have the book pout on hold for her, she found out that the owner speaks English very well, so she won’t have a problem communicating with him.
YN looks at her phone, following the map through a labyrinth of abandoned alleys. Snow is falling gently, reminding YN that today is Christmas. Usually, she’d be at home celebrating with her family, but she was more than happy to drop them for a chance to get this book.
A bell rings when YN pushes open the door to the small shop, the warm air hitting her face and knocking away some of her chill. The shop is crowded with tall bookshelves stuffed to the brim with a variety of random items - most of which are covered in a thick layer of dust. It’s clear that no one really comes here and YN absently wonders how it’s still in business.
“Hello?” she calls out.
No response. 
YN huffs. She hopes this Yoongi guy she’s supposed to be meeting hasn’t blown her off, especially since she had to take the longest flight known to man to get here.
She makes her way through the shop, feeling like a bull in a china shop with how carefully she has to avoid random piles of merchandise and the occasional broken item crushed into the worn floorboards. 
YN makes it to the back of the store where a small desk is pushed against a wall, a thin, somewhat ghostly looking man sitting behind it. His eyes are unfocused and earbuds are plugged into his ears. He doesn’t even register her presence originally. YN has to tap the desk right in front of his face to get him to focus.
“Oh,” the man says, pulling his earbuds out, “You’re that girl here for the book, right? YN?”
YN nods, trying not to let her annoyance show.
“Yeah, that’s me,” she says.
“It’s in the back,” he says, “Follow me.”
He rises and YN is shocked by how . . . pale he is. He nearly looks sick and YN thinks she can see his veins even under the terrible light.
“Are you feeling okay?” she asks him as he steps out from behind the desk.
“What?” he asks her.
“Nothing,” she says, retracting her statement.
It really isn’t her business. As soon as she gets the book, she’s going to leave anyway so it doesn’t matter.
The man looks her over and something about his gaze makes her stiffen. It’s uncomfortable. His eyes are almost lifeless, brown but dead like frozen mud.
He’s so creepy. 
He turns without another word and behinds to walk to the other edge of the store where YN assumes the storage room is. Even the way he walks is weird. His footsteps are too heavy, loud in a way that’s unnatural. He barely lifts his feet, but she can almost feel each step in his ribs.
As soon as YN has the book and pays, she’s leaving, never to return.
Yoongi pulls a set of skeleton keys out of his pocket, taking one and inserting it into the ancient lock on the door. The mechanisms groan, nearly refusing to open. The door does unlock when Yoongi applies a bit more pressure to the key and he steps inside, becoming YN to follow her.
It’s pitch black inside, making YN’s heartbeat speed up astronomically. An icky feeling wells up inside of her, the same one that appeared whenever she had to visit her great aunt and go down into her creepy basement. 
YN’s senses are hyper-aware. The air is stale in here, laced with a scent she’s never experienced before. It almost makes her gag but she forces herself to hold it in, not wanting to be seen as rude. A yellow light turns on overhead, flickering before finally staying lit. Yoongi is closer to her than she’s like him to be, but his back is turned, looking at the shelves built into the room. Even these are stuffed to the brim, absolutely filthy and covered in grime.
“The book is in good condition like you said, right?” YN asks him.
She’s going to be pissed if he pulls out a book covered in rat droppings and cobwebs.
“Of course,” he says, like it’s obvious. 
YN doesn’t quite believe him. Yoongi moves deeper into the storage room, YN following him. There are a variety of things in here that pique her interest - small items that float in murky water, a collection of old stained knives, and a snow globe bigger than her hand. She reaches out to touch it, curious about the scene inside of it, but Yoongi smacks her hand away before she can touch it.
YN brings it to her chest protectively, startled.
“Don’t touch that,” he hisses out.
“Sorry,” YN says.
“It’s in the very back,” Yoongi says.
YN swallows, following after him as he gets even deeper inside of the storage room. She looks at the snow globe over her shoulders, looking at the fake snow that’s swirling around even though she never got to shake it. 
This whole experience has been really unsettling, so when Yoongi stops and pulls a perfectly preserved book off the shelf, YN nearly sags in relief.
She reaches her hand out for it and Yoongi places it in her palm.
“You’re quite the collector, huh?” he asks her, his fingers still wrapped around the book.
“Yeah,” YN says, gently trying to pull it away from him.
His grip tightens. 
“So am I,” he says, smiling at her.
His teeth are incredibly straight and perfect, a complete contrast to the rest of his sickly and generally unkempt appearance. 
“That’s nice,” YN says, “Can I have the book now?”
“You know, I think the rarer an item is, the better it is for collecting.”
YN nods, agreeing and trying to decide if she should just cut her losses and run. But she’s looked for this book for over a year now and she finally has it in her grasp. She can’t give up yet.
“What do you collect?” YN asks, hoping that indulging him in conversation will get this experience to fly by faster. 
“Figurines, mostly,” he says, “Though everything else in this shop is mine as well, none of it holds my attention for very long. My figures, though. I adore them.”
“I like figures too,” YN says, all of the hairs on her body sticking straight up.
“Really? Would you like to see my collection?”
“No thank -”
“It won’t take long at all!” Yoongi says, suddenly insistent, “I’ll show you and then we can get you checked out, okay?”
Yoongi pulls the book away from YN entirely, practically dangling it in front of her. All the warning bells in her head are going off, but her desire to have this book has her internally soothing herself. Plenty of collectors are weird or just bad at speaking to people. He’s probably just the same as them.
“Okay,” YN says after a moment.
Yoongi gives her that perfect smile again and then turns to walk back the way they came, stopping in front of that snow globe. He picks it up and the entire shelf groans, sinking inwards and to the side to reveal a hidden pathway. A draft wafts up and tousles YN’s hair.
To hell with it. This is too far. Just as YN turns on her heel, preparing to run, Yoongi’s hand grasps her wrist, his skin cold as ice.
“You wanted to see right?” he asks her.
YN’s never seen a man so creepy. Everything about him is off.
“I changed my mind actually,” she says, wetting her lips and trying not to panic as those dead eyes follow the movement of her tongue, “I don’t really need the book.”
“Nonsense,” Yoongi says, dragging her inside, “You simply must see it.”
He’s surprisingly strong to look so sick. YN digs her heels into the floor but Yoongi has no problem dragging her inside. The door shuts behind them and Yoongi pulls her crying and screaming through another maze of pitch-black hallways until he steps foot into a showroom. 
Everything in here is impeccable. The floors shine and the lights overhead are bright. Her attention is immediately brought to the dozens of life-sized figures he has, each of them different. There are men and women, figures of all shapes, sizes, and ages. It looks like a creepily realistic wax museum.
YN doesn’t want to know why Yoongi has these figures. All she wants to do is go home.
“Please let me go,” YN says, tears streaming down her face.
“Let you go?” Yoongi asks her as if he’s genuinely confused, “Why would I let you go? You’re the final piece before my collection is complete.”
YN’s blood turns to ice. She turns her head to look at the figure closest to her, noticing the way its skin is too lifeline to be made of wax.
“Please no,” she begs him, trying her best to fight him off.
Just as she swings her free hand at his skull, he drops her and pushes her harshly, sending her straight to the ground, her skull smacking into the floor. 
Her ears ring and the bright lights overhead blur her vision. She feels nauseous as she raises her hand to touch the blood seeping from her scalp.
“Damn. I’ll have to make sure that gets cleaned up,” Yoongi mutters to himself, annoyed.
YN is terrified on the ground, but the blood on the ground makes her look like an angel, one surrounded by a halo. Yes, she really will be perfect, the very last piece of his collection.
He’s been following her for years, countlessly one step behind her as she snatched up several of the items he wanted for his own collection. It pissed him off to no end until he couldn’t stand it anymore. Even the thought of that smug smiles she always wears in her YouTube videos sent him into an outrage, one that landed him his first figure.
It was an accident, of course. The woman in his store had been there and accidentally knocked over one of his shelves, crushing her underneath it. 
She could have been saved, probably, but he’d never seen someone with a face like hers, so completely one of a kind, something he knew that YN would never be able to possess. 
And so a new obsession started. He would lure people he thought were interesting into his shop and lock them deep inside of it, propping them up on giant doll stands when they submitted to him.
It made him feel so powerful.
But YN was still out there, still always one step ahead of him. And so he laid this trap, ecstatic to finally have her in his possession. 
Yoongi leans over YN, watching as the light slowly starts to fade from her eyes. It’s the prettiest thing he’s ever seen, a true Christmas miracle. He can’t resist sinking to his knees, watching as confusion and fear swirl in her eyes. For once, his own gaze isn’t clouded, clear as a night sky, dark and absent of stars. 
Her blood smears on his fingers but he doesn’t mind, taking YN’s face in his hands tenderly and painting her lips crimson. He kisses her then, sucking her final breath into him, stealing it and her life away.
For an hour he just sits there and looks at her, completely mesmerized. She looks so beautiful in red that he decides to dress her in it, carefully pulling a red dress over her forms. She’s heavy in his arms when he picks her up and takes her to the spot he’s saved just for her, a plush red couch where she looks like she’s lounging peacefully, her lips smudged with her own lifeline.
And finally, his collection is complete. 
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