Neighbours, Lovesick & Infatuation.
neighbours, lovesick & infatuation.
jungkook x y/n
had you explained your current situation to anyone in your life, they would surely call you insane. they would ask you to move out or even call the police. they would question both your sanity and actions, muddle your feelings for illness whilst labelling you as crazy. instead, you sat and you stared. stared back at the man who lived in the apartment building opposite your own, who would sit quietly in his bedroom chair openly observing you.
you couldn’t tell anyone else, not really, because you too were at fault. you would sit, on your bed, sometimes pretending not to notice and other times giving him a show. a dance between two complete and utter strangers, not a single word discussed.
two individuals enamoured by one another. observing, with land, air and glass separating them; so why did he feel so familiar? why did your mind race at the thought of evening come, knowing your carefully planned routine would begin? brain hazy and eyes lidded, you’d come home to watch the tattooed boy across the street and he too, would do the same.
—————
being an office worker was the bane of your existence. despite feeling like a walking, misogynistic trope straight out of a film, it was unfortunately a truth to your life. you would wake up early, put on your makeup and pretty skirt, heels high and hair do only to be disregarded and dismissed with every opportunity.
you were better than everyone on that team. you knew it, they knew it - but being the only woman meant they weren’t willing to acknowledge it. you would work long hours, often overtime as your colleagues would shamelessly pile their documents on your desk, only to come home exhausted and upset.
that was the first time you saw him. the man across the street.
a day like every other, returning home with pained feet and tear streaked skin. they had been particularly rude to you, with you returning home two hours later than expected as they all went out to celebrate their new branch opening. you were quiet, to an unspeakable fault, but why did they have to take advantage of it? you wanted to be noticed, you wanted someone to see you for once beyond it all.
you entered your room, blinds drawn as quiet sniffles filled the silence. the only perk was the incredible pay, which allowed for such a beautiful apartment overlooking the city.
jungkook, across the road, was in a similar predicament. he, too, felt overworked and exhausted. with the recent merger at his company undergoing, his business had doubled overnight. suddenly, the weight and expectations of what felt like the world now rested upon his shoulders.
with an apartment that felt too cold to bare at times; he trudged to his room, sighing loudly as tattooed hands ran over his face. he didn’t know what he needed, simply knew that he needed it badly, finding himself perching on the seat that faced his window. the blinds were drawn and he exhaled again, eyes flickering over the skyline unimpressed before they fell onto something much more interesting. you.
his eyebrows furrowed. people usually kept their bedroom blinds closed, although he felt his brain contradict as he too sat before an open window. his brain silenced within seconds once his eyes set on your face.
you were crying, yes, but your lips were puffy. cheeks full and eyes screwed shut as you pulled pins out of your up do, heels scattered around the room and chest heaving. he watched you, almost comically, fall onto your bed whilst sniffling. he couldn’t hear you and yet he swore his heart was beating so loud that had he strained enough, he would hear small little whimpers. he couldn’t look away.
he was insane, he was genuinely insane. what was this sickening feeling gripping his brain? he felt like a pubescent boy looking at a woman for the first time, but these emotions were beyond him. the mere sight of you was overheating his body, and he was alarmed to say the least. he screwed his eyes shut before opening them again, but you remained in your position and as did he. he began loosening his tie, and before he could think any further, he began slowly unbuttoning his shirt.
after a few more minutes, you rose. slow puffs of air left you as you regained some composure, sniffling whilst wiping the black mascara from your cheeks. you looked a mess, a juxtaposition to the effort you put in every single morning.
you found yourself sauntering around your room, picking up a set of pyjamas and slowly readying yourself to have a shower. you picked up one heel, walking to the other which sat next to the window, raising your back to stand up straight with it in your hand when you finally saw.
jungkook.
he stood. watching. eyes wide, not in embarrassment of being caught, but an almost childlike curiosity. you flinched, slightly, in shock that someone was so openly watching you.
your first instinct was to cower, to shut the blinds and move away immediately. you, however, did not.
you found yourself stood there. unmoving. gaze connected to the doe eyed man, observing him as he observed you. it was odd, to be so open with a stranger. it fought against every moral and social understanding you both undoubtedly shared.
you roamed over every inch of him, lips parted and nose still sniffling. black, thick hair styled messily on his head - he had been running his hands through it, that much was clear to you considering the way it stuck at one side. his lips parted and bitten red, his nose scrunched slightly and his eyes. his eyes wide and curious, understanding and confused all at once.
jungkook stared at you, too, your appearance mimicking his. for a woman who had been crying so helplessly moments ago, he truly had been rooted to his spot at the mere sight of you. what was happening, what was he feeling and why was it gripping the ridges of his brain like a vice?
after what felt like eons of merely staring at each other, both unmoving, he made the first move. he had loosened his tie earlier and it now sat pooled at his feet. he moved, slowly unbuttoning his shirt further whilst staring at you.
it was then you noticed the look of exhaustion on his face, the way his chest heaved in what could only be a deep sigh. milky skin revealed to you as he perched, thighs resting wide and shoulders slouched, arms resting on the chair. your move, he wanted to say.
your insides were burning. was this really happening? a greek adonis with his shirt half opened, legs wide, slouched in his seat watching you?
your fingers fumbled with your own outfit, your silk blouse untucked from the tight pencil skirt and beginning to unbutton. jungkook watched as the material slowly fell from your body, his mouth watering and eyes narrowing.
your hair followed, the final pins releasing perfectly blown out hair that sat perched on your chest, reddened eyes sparkling as they modestly hid you away from his prying eyes. you laid on your bed that faced him, arms under your face, all pencil skirt and sheer tights.
you both spent hours looking at one another that night, not a single word spared, but a cocktail mix of tension, passion and comfort shared. a man you had never met, the stranger from across the street, your neighbour in the sister building to your own - why did he feel safe?
jungkook watched as you slowly fell into sleep, makeup still smeared on your face and your body still partially hidden away from his eyes. in the span of a single night, you had stolen something deep inside of him with no intention of its return. in a single night, you became his, but more importantly - he had become yours.
—————
this little scenario continued on for months, first happening every now and then before becoming frequent. now, you found yourself unable to sleep at night without your eyes locked on the bambi eyed man from across the street.
always scantily dressed, the two of you would perch after work, weekends, and holidays. he in his chair, you resting on your bed. you would wake up, and he would no longer be there, but the warmth between your legs would serve as a reminder of his presence.
you couldn’t tell anyone, not your friends nor the very few coworkers you enjoyed. no one would understand, no one would encourage such behaviour, they’d call you insane or a creep. they’d call him worse, you were sure but you didn’t care. he was yours, in a weird way. he belonged to you. you belonged to him too.
jungkook, too, was fairing no different. he found himself working harder at work; pushing himself to the point of exhaustion just so he would finish and come home at the same time as you. weeks of deduction had confirmed to him that you finished work, usually, at 8 - awfully late for an office job, but as a CEO, he often worked longer hours. his employees were in awe at how much work he took on, but none could be privy to the dirty secret as to why.
he would sit in his chair, trousers hung low on his waist with his tie and shirt discarded, hands running through his hair as he simply watched you. he yearned to know your name, what you sounded like, would you be comfortable cm’s apart from him or would you cower shyly the way you did at the beginning? he was enamoured.
for the first time in years, he felt genuine comfort. it was ridiculous and made no sense, to the extent in which he knew this would damage both his reputation and career had anyone found out. you were his little secret, and he yours - he couldn’t help wanting more.
you both had reached a fever pitch, you couldn’t return to what once was. you had each other now, and even though this was only the beginning, it was a fact understood between you that this could not end.
————
“enough. you’re always holed up in that apartment, you’re young and you’re sexy - it’s time you let the world see it too.” your friend, yejin, grumbled whilst pulling things out of your wardrobe.
you huffed, dressed in your pretty underwear and silk robe. the blinds were closed today. you couldn’t bring yourself to open them whilst you had company.
“i want to stay at home and relax. that fucking job stresses me out enough, i don’t want to get drunk and then spend sunday healing.”
she rolled her eyes. “too bad. you’re wearing this.”
you felt the dress fall onto your stomach, looking down at it with a sigh.
“seriously, y/n. i’m worried about you, okay?” yejin sighed, turning around to properly face you before sitting next to you on the bed. “they treat you horribly and then you hole up inside, you haven’t come out in months.”
“i’m fine.” you shook your head. how do you explain that your pretty neighbour from down the street ogles at you for hours and it relieves your body of every inch of stress? not quite as easy as one would think.
she groaned, loudly before grabbing your arms lovingly. “for me. please.”
she had such a way about her that you simply couldn’t say no. you match her groan before walking into your bathroom, getting ready just as she wished.
one hour of getting ready and another pregaming, you were finally ready to go. a few of your other friends were joining, all bouncing around your apartment with various drinks as you waited on your ubers.
you found yourself shimmying in, already slightly tipsy with giggles in a too short dress and heels that were much too high. you cramped against the window, letting the breeze hit you as you rest your head on the car door, the car beginning to move.
as the driver drove down your street, you noticed a car approaching on the opposite side of small driveway that separated the two apartment complexes. your brain was hazy as you watched sleek black metal slide by, your eyes peering to the driver.
your breath hitched.
eye contact, no longer than a few seconds but enough to cement a drumming in both your chest and between your legs. jungkook driving by slowly, his eyes trailing over your features up close, drinking every curve and ridge as though his life depended on it.
you couldn’t think, couldn’t speak, the moment passing by before you could really do anything, two cars going in opposite directions; but he was all you could think about. all you wanted. fuck.
the rest of the night was spent nursing drinks, dancing and resting, eyes shut and open wide, doing everything you could possibly do to rid the image of his lip ring. seeing it up close allowed it to catch the light, and you could have sworn he looked like every sin personified.
you felt stupid, as you stood at the bar whilst your friends danced. your back to them as you swirled your straw in your drink, your brain only growing hazier by the second with the thought of him. he had this effect on you, but did he even care? maybe you really were insane, acting so needy over a man whose name you had never even heard - a man who may potentially not want you the way you yearned for him.
shame trickled into your spine as realisation hit you like a truck, a bucket of ice trickling down every inch of you. what were you doing? you wanted to go home, you wanted to close the blinds. he didn’t want you. of course he didn’t, if he had; he would have found his way to you. hazy mind and dizzy brain, you turned around, mood suddenly sour, wanting nothing more than to just leave.
you faced a black shirt.
your eyebrows furrowed at the sight. broad chest and wide shoulders, clad in a black shirt messily tucked into trouser slacks. a suit that looked much too expensive for the club you were currently in, with hands caging you into the bar on either side. those tattoos, so familiar - they felt like home.
your breath hitched as you found yourself wetting your lips, shifting from foot to foot, slowly allowing your eyes to shift upwards. chest to neck. neck to jaw. jaw to lips. lips to doe eyes.
for a moment, silence.
jungkook exhaled deeply, his chest constructing against his shirt as he caged you closer to the bar, finding himself pushing you back into it with each and every step he took towards you. seeing you in that uber, for no more than a few seconds, had drove him insane. he found his brain short circuiting, his mouth parted and his cock thrumming. his, pretty girl, all dressed up before his very eyes.
your friends in the uber were chatting loudly, and he had heard momentarily the end of a sentence, something to do with flonk, a word jungkook registered as the name of hobi’s new club. he had been begging him to come check it out for weeks now, but how could he give up a night of you in the name of too loud music and drinks? though you did not share the same sentiments, he couldn’t help but turn the car around and finally take his close friend on the offer.
he had watched you, like he was accustomed to, from the privacy of his private table alongside his 6 friends. they sat upstairs, overseeing the club, though his eyes remained on you. unable to join conversation, he watched as you danced, lips parted and hands around your various friends. you seemed dazed, mind far away and confused. you needed home, he understood. you needed him, dark eyes staring you down and giving you the comfort you so desperately craved in order to relax.
he watched as you separated from your group, turned towards the bar. he watched as your eyebrows furrowed and a look of shame washed over you and it chilled him to the bone. he found his feet walking towards you, and his hands reaching towards the metal surrounding your body before he could stop himself. he had enough of watching. it was time to act.
you stared up at him, mouth slightly agape and breath hitching. he found himself stepping even closer, your bodies beginning to press against one another.
“fuck.” he whispered, so quietly he wasn’t sure he had even said it. you heard.
the haziness grew stronger, your eyes drooping in a sense of comfort but your body contorting in pure fire. you could feel him against you, your heart beating loudly and your core pulsating.
“you were just gonna leave me, baby?” he found himself asking, his head pressing against yours. “would have waited for you. would have waited all night.”
you found yourself whimpering, almost pathetically as you pressed further into him, your hands sliding to his chest.
“w-wanted to come home.” you closed your eyes.
“yeah? come home to me? can’t sleep without me, hm?”
his words were sin. you didn’t even know each other’s names but you were both enamoured. breathing each other in as though you were parched and finally sipping water. his arms moved from the bar to around your waist, pulling you in until you were now fully pressed entirely into him.
he nudged your nose with his own. “what are you doing to me?”
you opened your eyes, breaths mingling from how close you were. what was he doing to you?
“my head…i can’t think.” you whined, so overwhelmed with hands slowly trailing upwards. you wanted to run your hands through his hair.
he was here, finally here and you couldn’t stop yourself.
jungkook groaned once one of your delicate fingers finally sought refuge in his head, his mouth slowly trailing downwards to your neck. he began placing pepper kisses, slight and airy as though he was hardly there, breathing in your scent like you were his personal brand of heroin.
“don’t need to think, baby. i’m here.” he promised.
you nodded. you didn’t want to.
you both remained clutched onto one another, too close to be deemed strangers and yet, really, that was what you were.
the slick between your legs was growing with every second, slow whines leaving your lips as jungkook pressed kisses on your neck. harsher with each kiss, a promise etched into each one.
he was no better. he had already fisted his cock to the thought of you this morning, and now with the tangible feeling of you in his arms, his body pulsated without warning.
“i don’t even know your name.” you exhaled, half moan, half sigh.
“jungkook.” he whispered against your neck through kisses, seeking your sweet spot. “what’s your name, baby?”
“y/n.”
he closed his eyes, groaning quietly. “even your name tastes sweet.”
had you known his voice sounded like this, or his touch, or his mouth - god, you wouldn’t have stayed away. you would have broke glass, and closed the distance in any way possible. how could you ever get enough.
you gripped his hair slightly, pushing him up enough to look at you. “i w-want you.” you admitted, suddenly riddled with the remaining anxiety from earlier.
“i was yours from that first night, y/n.” he stared, fingers raising your chin. “my brain doesn’t fucking work unless it’s occupied with you, can’t work, can’t sleep. can’t rest till i see you sleeping nice and safe.”
his words left you a whimpering mess. he wanted you just as much as you wanted him, and that was a sickening revelation. were you both as insane as each other? enabling the no doubt disturbing nature of your relationship?
“you make me feel so good, jungkook.” you murmured, brain hazy with want. “make me feel safe.”
“good baby. that’s what i want. you’re mine, and i’m yours. gonna make sure you feel like that, always.”
“please.” you nodded.
he lifted your chin again, unable to stop himself. he wanted to devour you whole. he wanted to transfer the electrify that was burning through his veins to show you the true extent of his words. his brain felt lovesick, and the more you watched one another, the more he never wanted to get better. your eyes drooped, falling onto his mouth, him mirroring you. with hitched breaths and shaking hands, he finally pressed his lips to yours.
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Dare | yandere!jjk
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Y/N kisses Jungkook for a dare, but he takes it seriously.
“I dare you to kiss Jungkook.”
You laugh dismissively at the comment, putting a strand of your hair behind your ear,
“Seriously, Taehyung? Why would I do that?”
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. . .𝗧𝗔𝗣𝗘 𝟬𝟭 - GROUPIE - TRAILER!
17:30━━━━⬤─────── 34:07
ᯓ★ a/n: I know havent posted in like 4 months or something but inspo struck me last night. Please do understand this is based off the infamous groupie tape by marilyn manson. Yes im well aware of what he did and what role the groupie tape had in the trail. No i do not support that man but the idea of groupie was just so cool. This is all fiction < 3. All of that is old shit i wrote 2 months ago when i started to write this then i took a break and now im wondering if i should finish.
ᯓ★ Warnings : drugging, non con, r*pe, bondage, talks about jesus during sex, violence towards reader, blood, gun play, 18 year old reader, recording, spanking, slight somnophilia, underage drinking, mentions of satanism/devil worship, virginity loss, THIS IS FICTION!!!! Btw if you click that link heres tw because.....its crazy (you can only hear)
A slim, long finger pushes the VHS tape into the player. Click. The tape is in and will begin playing the video shortly.
The 30 minute tape is cut short at 17 mins as the lady on the couch pauses it.
"You can never release this. If this ever reaches the media you will be fucking over. I mean it"
The lady's eyes were filled with fear as she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. The man standing behind her nodded solemnly, clearly understanding the seriousness of her words. He reached for the remote and turned off the TV, the screen going black as the room fell silent. The tape was carefully removed from the player and hidden away; the secret it held was locked tight.
The house is loud. Music is loud as drunk rockers dance with girls and, most likely, high-ranking groupies. A small girl is navigating her way through the crowd of people to the stairs. Your arms are full as you carry a big painting. This would be the day she met her idol. Up the stairs and now in front of a hallway of rooms, you just had to find out which one Hoseok was in.
Knocking on a door to get nothing then opeing another to see a group orgy. Lets act like you didn't see that. Shutting the door quickly your small frame walks over to the next door.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
You open the door to see a man with dark long strands with his nose to a table. He looks up, coke on his nose. Its him. The man on the painting you had.
"Are you Hoseok?" you ask tentatively, trying to keep your voice steady despite the nerves that were starting to build up inside you. The man nods slowly, a small smirk playing on his lips as he gestures for you to come in. You step into the room, your heart racing with excitement and uncertainty, unsure of what is to come next. This was the moment you had been waiting for—the moment when you would finally come face-to-face with the man who had consumed your thoughts and dreams for so long.
The man stands up. His heavy boots hit the crusty and creaky wooden floor boards. He guides you into the room and closes the door behind you.
There is no way you were a groupie. This was no slut. But a girl who could only dream of being a groupie. "sit down" he commands, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine. As you take a seat, you can't help but feel a surge of adrenaline mixed with fear. What did he want from you? Your mind races with possibilities as you wait for him to break the silence and reveal his intentions. But one thing was for certain—you were no longer just a fan, you were in the presence of the man himself, and the reality was both exhilarating and intimidating.
"Are you here to suck my dick?" Hoseok says nonchilantly
his eyes piercing into yours with a mix of curiosity and amusement. Your heart races at his blunt question, unsure of how to respond. You had fantasized about meeting him and being close to him, but you never expected this level of directness. The air between you crackles with tension as you search for the right words and the right way to navigate this unexpected turn of events. Your mind races, trying to process the sudden shift in the dynamic between you.
"N-no. I wanted to give you this." You shyly speak as you hand him the pants with his face on them.
"What good are you if you aren't here to suck my dick?! You interrupted my lines to show me this weak ass painting?". You feel a wave of shock and embarrassment wash over you as his harsh words hit you like a punch to the gut. The fantasy you had built up in your mind shatters in an instant, leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable. You struggle to find your voice, feeling small and insignificant in his presence. The weight of his expectations hangs heavy in the air, and you realize that the reality of the situation is far from the dream you had envisioned.
You struggle to find your voice, feeling small and insignificant in his presence. The weight of his expectations hangs heavy in the air, and you realize that the reality of the situation is far from the dream you had envisioned. You get up to go, trying not to cry, but his cold hands grab you.
His hand locked on your delicate wrist as he brought his other hand to your face with a loud smack. Cheek red with his hand print, you stand there in shock, unable to comprehend what just happened. His sudden violence sends a wave of fear through your body, and you can feel your heart pounding in your chest.
The pain in your cheek serves as a stark reminder that this man is not who you thought he was. As you struggle to break free from his grip, you realize that the fantasy you had built up in your mind has turned into a nightmare. You gather your strength, and with a newfound determination, you finally break free and run, leaving behind the shattered remains of your once beautiful dream. "Such a fucking slut " he spat. "Coming into my room acting like you didn't come here to take this dick."
"You think guys are going to want to fuck you?" His hands are grabbing at your tits through your cotton dress. "Stop!" You scream, pushing him away with all your might. Tears stream down your face as you scramble to get away from him. He overpowers you and keeps grabbing. "You think you're going to get married and have a nice family?" You fight back with all the strength you have left. "STOP!" You scream loudly, but he brings his hand back to your face to shut you up. "Sit down." He pushes you into a leather chair, and you feel trapped and helpless. His words ring in your ears, and his hands are still lingering on your body. You know you have to get out, but fear paralyzes you.
He brings rope to you, and before you know it, you are tied down to the chair , unable to move or escape. Tears stream down your face as you realize the severity of the situation.
The feeling of helplessness weighs heavily on you as you struggle against the restraints, but deep down, you know you must stay calm and think of a way to free yourself. Your mind races with thoughts of how to outsmart him and break free from his hold, but the fear of what he might do next keeps you frozen in place. It's a battle of wills, and you know you have to find a way to survive this terrifying ordeal.
Hoseok turns away to grab his pill bottle, emptying the lat 2 in his hand. "Open your fucking mouth." As he approaches you with the pills in hand, a sense of dread washes over you. You know you cannot consume whatever is in those capsules, but you also know that refusing him might lead to consequences you cannot bear to think about. With a deep breath, you muster the courage to speak up, "I won't do it.”
His eyes meet yours with a mixture of anger and disappointment, but you stand your ground, determined to fight against his control. In that moment, you realize that survival means more than just physical escape; it also means holding onto your own agency and resisting his attempts to break you. His strong hand grips your mouth and forces your jaw open.
You scream and scream, but he shoves the pills in. His pretty finger is pushing down your throat to make sure you take it , choking and gagging as you struggle against his relentless hold. As the pills slide down your throat, you feel a sense of defeat wash over you. But deep down, a fire ignites within you, fueling your determination to never let him control you again. He started to untie the rope and free you from the chair. He knows you will try to escape him again.
TO BE CONTINUED!
©️KOOBERIST 2024
run, rabbit, run!
╰┈➤ synopsis — You're hunted down by a harrowing hybrid. He takes his time toying with his food. But in the end, he just wants to know how you taste.
╰┈➤ pairing — yandere!wolf-hybrid!jungkook x reader
╰┈➤ word count — 2.3k
╰┈➤ content warning — yandere behavior, violence, blood, injury, predator/prey dynamics.
The woods lied to you. They led you astray and now you stand under the shadows of the moon; alone and stalked by a hungry animal.
You can hear its howl off in the distance, a roar rooted in anger. Blinding fury scares off all the other animals; birds fly away over the treetops and rodents run away into their hiding holes. You wish you could do the same. But this tyrannical terror keeps your feet frozen to the spot. You feel like you’re stuck in a painted picture, everything else around you moves so fast but you can’t seem to keep up.
A shiver creeps up your spine, it feels like ten thousand tiny spiders are crawling around in your hair. You begin to break out in a cold sweat and tears trickle out the corner of your eyes. Your body is begging you to run, but your mind has been manipulated by fear.
Another round of its howling starts up, you can hear it coming closer. Every footstep from the predator is almost deafening in your ears. It’s all you can focus on, the steady sound of its paws running rampant. The pounding feet against the forest floor is in tune with the sound of your heartbeat. Blood rushing up to your ears until all you can hear is your own fear intertwining with the wolf that watches.
The fog begins to clear away, almost as if it’s making way for the monster that owns these woods. Your vision is beginning to look less blurry. You try to search the darkness for any way out of the forest, but the trees all look the same and it’s clear that no man has walked these woods for centuries. You wish you hadn’t been so stubborn and listened to the townspeople instead. Their stories of a man-eating monster that roams the woods. So stupid and naive, you ignored their warnings and called them superstitions. Just fairy tales made up to keep their children inside the town. Now your last moment will be ruined with regret. That is, if it manages to catch you.
You force yourself out of this frozen hold, battling your body that begs you to stay still and silent. You give into your instincts, the humanity in your heart that still has a sliver of hope that you could survive. You break out into a sprint and the woods run along with you, the scenery blurring as you speed up.
With heavy limbs and a barely beating heart, you put your all into your escape. It’s a struggle to breathe, every icy inhale you take burns your lungs and smoke billows out as breath. The night is falling fast and it’s clear that this will be the wolves’ advantage. His red eyes are made for the moonlight. No powerless prey has ever escaped him before and you’ll be no different.
You’re running down an incline when you realize you’ve already been caught. The dirt slides out underneath your feet and you’re falling over yourself before you can even understand what happened.
Sticks and twigs scrape along your skin. Tearing up your flesh and producing purple bruises that swell. The wind is knocked out of you and you’re stuck staring up at the sky. Two shining stars twinkle down at you. The twin flames burn bright with intensity as they stare into your eyes. The stars are soulless. They're the epitome of evil set ablaze and only then do you realize that they aren’t stars at all, but rather dark eyes glaring down at you.
Your first instinct is to try and crawl away but the beast beats you to it. It presses its paws against your shoulder and you can feel your muscles pulling themselves apart under pressure. Your collarbone is cracking and you struggle to not cry out in pain. The animal lowers itself as it lays almost all its weight on your chest. It sticks its muzzle up against the side of your throat. It bares its bloodied teeth as it lets out a pleased growl. The wolf rubs its head along the expanse of your neck in a scenting motion. Its rough fur rubs you raw, your skin screaming out in agony. Pretty pink scratches line your skin. Blood pools at the surface and mixes with the scarlet still staining the wolf’s fur. It’s obvious the wolf is a rabid beast. Layers of blood coat his black fur along with dirt and tiny twigs.
The hybrid is rough in his scenting ritual. His claws threaten to tear open your skin, the tips of the nails drag up the side of your arm. He’s clumsy and chaotic, all this pent-up adrenaline begs to be banished. His animalistic instincts scream at him to complete the kill, but Jungkook doesn’t want you to die. His heart has hope that this time will be different. You aren’t fighting him, aren’t screaming or shouting in fear, you just stay still and wait for what he does next. You aren’t a threat to him and that’s why he shows you a silver of his humanity.
You can feel a change in the animal above you, The weight on your chest lessens and his scratchy fur no longer rubs up against your side. Instead, you feel soft skin against yours. A warmth emanates from the man that rests atop you. His head is still hidden in your shoulder so you can’t see his face. This sudden transformation is not a comforting one but instead scares you of what’s to come next. You try to swallow the terror stuck in your throat. But, the white hot hold of fear forces back your breath. Sobs and screams are silenced before they can tear their way out of you.
Your heart hammers up against his. Each breath you two take pushes and pulls your chests in tandem. You both hug a heat that separates you from the rest of the woods. This closeness strikes you with a sudden sickness and you begin to panic, pushing yourself deeper into the dirt and into an early grave. The mad man only follows your movements, bringing his body down to drop almost the entirety of his weight on you.
Jaw stretched open to show off all his scarlet incisors. He takes the time to drag the tips of his teeth up and down the tender part of your throat. Exposed skin that begs for his bite. Jungkook can feel you trembling from the inside out. He takes in every icy inhale of yours as if it’s his own. Matching your body’s breath until it winds down into a steady pattern.
He could snap your neck with a slide of his hands. Crush your trachea under the force of his jaw. But, he chooses to be gentle (Or as gentle as a rabid bite can be). He’s tempted to know what you taste like between his teeth. He sticks his tongue out the slightest bit, sliding it across your skin to taste the terror. He laps at your throat like a hungry animal, sucking the shivers out of your skin.
A whimper escapes your mouth before you can notice. You have no control over your own senses at this point. Emotions overwhelmed and body so sensitive, you can only cry and plead not to be torn apart by the abomination.
“Please– Please… don’t kill me.” You struggle through the simple words. Out of breath and barely squeaking out a syllable. It feels as if he’s torn your throat out already. You can feel the metallic taste building up on your tongue. It hurts to talk and takes up all your courage to do so. You can’t even look him in the eyes while you beg for your life, a foolish mistake.
The monster of a man isn’t too happy with you ignoring his eyes. A little nip at your neck draws another cry out of you. Jungkook lets out a growl that could be mistaken with a whine. The authority in his voice grabs your attention.
Looking into his lonely eyes, you can’t help but see your own reflection in his irises. You look so broken and bare underneath his entirety. And when you run away from your reflection, what hidden eyes lie behind his hair are no different. His eyes have a burnt edge that’s buried in blood. His crimson skin is coated in a number of nameless lives. He’s the incarnation of Satan's son. Young and arrogant, he takes everything he wants and doesn’t care for the consequences.
“I just wanna have some fun,” His words are warped into a whisper. “Play with me~” A low guttural growl that’s possessive and anything but playful. Although, a deep desire tangles itself into the three words. A hidden meaning makes it sound like he meant to say stay. Stay with me~ Jungkook is just so very lonely. The days bleed into each other and the only real fun he has is from the bloody cries he mangles out of men. He’s missing his mate yet a golden chance has been given to him. But betrayal runs red in his veins. His trust is tainted and he isn’t too sure that you’re the one. So he’ll play a little game and give you the choice. You submit to his lovesick ways; promising to be his pretty toy for futures to come, or the other outcome will be much more violent with a vainful fate.
The harrowing hybrid then backs off your body. You’re finally giving some separate space that doesn’t feel so suffocating. The wolf only wanders so far, talking a few steps back to sit in front of you. You can see what shadows once hid, his bare body on full display. Blood runs down his back, tiny cuts cover his chest, he’s an animal through and through. The sight makes you sick and you avert your eyes to the forest floor. Your wandering gaze drags over the dirt, searching for a weapon of sorts. You’ll try to use this small chance to your advantage.
You don’t fully understand why the wolf-man watches you. If he planned to kill you, then what is he waiting for? Did he expect a chase? Wanting to play with his food before he takes a bite. Trying to dangle a glimpse of hope in front of your eyes before your heart bleeds out. You feel so fucking frustrated. So hopeless in his hands, no way to win and no fair fate. He smiles down at your body sprawled out on the dirt. He can smell the sadness and anger rolling off you in waves. White-hot rage is running through your heart. Annoyed at yourself or being a fool and angry at the man that thinks of your life as a game. So much restless anger simmers underneath your skin that you could care less about what he wants. You sit up slowly, hands digging into the dirt and feet ready to run.
As if the animal knows what you’re thinking it speaks with a growl, “Try it. Run away like a little rabbit. I’ll be there to hunt you down a hundred times.” The words roll off his tongue in a teasing tone. “I bet your blood would taste so good.” He tries to rile you up, raising a burning blush to your cheeks. “I’d tear your skin apart between my teeth. You’d be nothing but bones and blood once I’m bored of you.” He wishes you wouldn’t do this, but he understands you’ve already made your choice.
You stand up and start into a sprint. Running without any real purpose and an understanding of what will be your fate. Your death was destined from the moment you walked into the woods. Adrenaline and anger flow through your body. Your breath is broken and it hurts to take in the lungfuls of oxygen. Everything hurts but nothing compares to the hot hellfire that burns in your now broken leg. Jungkook jumped at the chance and caged your leg in his jaws. He clamps down on your calf and yanks you off your feet. You get whiplash when your head hits the ground. A wail of agony leaves your lips but it wastes away in the lonely woods. No one will save you and it’ll be a desolate death.
Jungkook drags you through the woods. He lets his anger show in the way he hauls your heavy body over the rocks and broken branches that litter the earth. His bite marks bruise your skin and leave blood to trail in your path. The scarlet sea that spills out of you serves as a warning to any other animals that dare to face the hybrid. The lost blood leaves a trail towards the cave he calls home. Your vision begins to grow darker as the stone walls slowly enclose around your eyesight. The forest is falling further away and your darker demise has almost arrived. Bones bury the dirt floor. Carcases and rotting red flesh stain the ceiling and are piled up to the darkest corners. What little light is left illuminates the lonely bones. Hollow skulls hold memories of a man’s last moments, jaws reaching wide in a scream and bite marks broken into the cranium. Your last tears hit the ground before you’re turnt over and onto your back.
Jungkook stares down at you once more. No smile pulls at his pink lips, only a hungry grin is planted upon his face. And when you look into his emotionless eyes, you have no doubt that he’ll devour you.
© cybsoo2 2024, all rights reserved
ANGEL | JJK
in which you finally give into Jungkook
notes: mentions of alcohol, toxic relationship, yandere tendencies?
Angel - Massive Attack ♪
wc: 1.034
He was your last hope. After your mom shut you out for choosing him in the first place and your sister being 5000 miles in another country, he was the only thing in your life left standing.
Your key, that you’ve turned a million times before, feels heavy and uncomforting. You know he’s behind the door somewhere in the apartment, just waiting. Waiting for you to walk in and run back into his arms.
You are to do exactly that. Because at this point, you have no other option. Jungkook had jeopardized your relationship with your family when he made you choose them or him. He made you quit your job so he could take care of you because a princess should never work. You didn’t have any other source of income. He was it. He was the reason you were still alive.
The lock clicks and you turn the handle to open the door, the lights are off everywhere but the kitchen. You don’t see him but you can hear he’s moving around in there.
Gently shutting the door, you walk towards the light and see Jungkook pouring Soju into two shot glasses. The bottle of alcohol seemed to have just been opened, meaning he was still sober. Doesn’t change the fact that he doesn’t need alcohol in his system to let you know what he’s thinking.
He avoids looking at you or speaking until the second shot is poured and the sound of you placing your keys on the counter is heard.
“You really think you can leave?” a dry chuckle is heard throughout the rhetorical question. His gaze is dark and intense. Heavy set on keeping the eye contact.
You don’t reply and instead clear your throat, trying to swallow the lump to speak.
“I-” but you can’t say anything else. Every fiber of your being tells you to walk away. To run. To get away from the man that was shouting at you just hours ago, telling you that you were his. That you had no friends or family and that he was the only man and person you should ever be speaking to.
“You can’t leave,” he repeats, sliding the small shot glass filled with liquor towards you. He doesn’t make any effort to get closer to you, but his presence is well enough to keep you there. With the smallest hint of fear and curiosity.
“You can’t. Not after everything you and I have built together. After everything that I have done for you,”
There’s a twisted tone in his words. Like he’s trying to make you feel guilty. Like he knows you owe him everything. At this point, you know it’s not about you, it’s about control. It’s about the fact that you belong to him. Mind, body, and soul. If you try to leave him, it’ll break him. It’s not fair. He gave you everything, and you just want to walk away?
With a slight tremble in your voice you reply, “You don’t own me, Jungkook,” trying your very best to sound stern, as if you still have some control in this conversation. In this relationship.
A hint of something flashes in his gaze, a dangerous spark igniting in the depths of his brown orbs. Only then does he finally let out a sigh and walk to you, still standing at the entrance of the kitchen.
Grabbing your waist he pulls you into him, chest to chest, and turns you around so he’s caging you against the island. His hand leaves your waist and grabs your chin firmly so your attention doesn’t move away from him. Leaning down into your ear, you feel his hot breath, making shivers run down your spine.
“You think you have a choice?” his whispered voice sounds sweet for the words he’s speaking, “You think you can walk away from me when I’ve given you everything you’ve ever desired?”
In a way, it’s true. You’re standing in a multi million dollar apartment with a coffee machine that costs more than a phone. The view outside is something even the higher middle class could only dream of having.
“Ungrateful princess,” he whispers and leans back to look at you. The tears in your eyes threating to fall. With both of his hands he wipes you eyes, free from the sad drops.
“I can make you forget everything,” he murmurs the promise, “You’ll be mine, and you’ll never want to leave,” Even if you want to pull a silly little trick like you did today.
Running from Jungkook back to your parents shitty house? It made Jungkook laugh to see your location there. Shortly after, he made an online purchase for new locks to the place. He’s to pick the double sided door locks tomorrow morning and he’s making sure you come along to see your punishment.
You wouldn’t be able to leave the house unless you were with him. He’ll take both sets of keys with him daily, regardless for how long he is to leave for.
You close your eyes, body shuddering beneath at the weight of his words. You don’t know if you hate him or if you’ve simply given up at this point. Jungkook’s the reason you’re not out in the streets right now.
You’re lost in the darkness and he leans into a hug, kissing your neck gently and wrapping his arms firmly. You’re trapped. You don’t know if you’ll ever escape.
But at this point, perhaps being with Jungkook is better than the cold. Maybe the freedom out there isn’t worth it.
After all, you have everything a person could ask for.
You have the food, shelter, clothes, and expensive items people would kill for. All because of him.
So you hug him back. Letting your tears soak into his shirt while all he can do is smile because he knows you’ve given in. Now you know where you belong. Here. With him.
Milk And Cookies, Part III of the Play Date Trilogy
➵ Jungkook’s sickly sweet ‘love’ tastes rancid on your tongue, as rancid as the lies you have to tell him to satisfy his immature moods. Perhaps, it’s time for another game of tag, but this time, you’re determined to avoid his capture…
➵ Play Date Trilogy Masterlist
➵ Warnings: Yandere Jungkook, Kidnapping, Molestation, Unhealthy thoughts, Hints of Stockholm Syndrome, Drugging
➵ Word Count: 5.2K
➵ Masterlist for all my other fics
Keep reading
۶ৎ SHADOWS OF OBSESSION | m. list
In a gritty city, a ruthless criminal's obsession with a shy medical student ignites a dangerous, passionate dance of desire and darkness. As their worlds collide, secrets unravel, and the line between love and possession blurs, pulling them into a thrilling, heart-wrenching saga. Will their twisted bond survive the chaos, or will it consume them both?
pairing: criminal dom!jungkook x student sub!femreader
genre: criminal au, dark romance, forbidden attraction, enemies to lovers, murderer!jungkook, stalker!jungkook, innocent shy!reader, virgin!reader, medical student!reader, violence, stalking and obsession, contrast of worlds, crime, thriller, smut, angst, fluff
warnings: 18+, several explicit sex scenes, mature themes, dark content, graphic violence and gore, non-consensual and dubious consent, cnc, psychological and emotional abuse, kidnapping and captivity, substance use, mental health themes, each chapter contains their individual warnings (reader discretion is advised due to the intense, dark and potentially triggering nature of the content)
status: ongoing
main masterlist
۶ৎ
— 01 ; "eclipse of envy"
— 02 ; "thorns of desire"
— 03 ; "ashes of devotion"
— 04 ; "embers of absence"
— 05 ; to be released.
note — queue stuffs!
✦ ✦
yandere!prince who is keen on what your preferences are. (sometimes more than you yourself)
Anul watches as you pet the tiny beast, it's the affection he's ever seen you give willingly and of course he boils hot with jealousy. Your whispers coo at the kitten, you didn't realize he was there untill the crunching of a leaf scared tge poor animal away. You frowned and turned to see what had caused the disturbance. It was Anul, an almost cute pout on his face.
"What are you doing?" he asked you pulling your body into a hug, letting go to cradle your face.
"Nothing, my prince, I was tending to the gardens and it simply strolled along." you were cautious when you said it, nowadays anything would set him off.
"Do you love me [Name]?" he said suddenly, holding you tighter, your breasts pressed right up against his solid chest.
He didn't wait for an answer as he stared, "Because as you know very well, I love you. And if there's something wrong with me that's you don't like, you need to just say it. I would rather you be with someone you at the very least find attractive."
You blinked for a moment unsure of what to say, was Anul, next in line to rule a kingdom of over a million seriously jealous of a cat? "I, uhm, I don't find you unappealing in any way my prince." he was hooked on every word, huffing in dissatisfaction when you finally gave your answer.
"Really?" he asked, tilting his head slightly and you knew what was coming.
"Really."
"Then why don't you show me?"
And his lips were on yours before you could answer. It was hot, and selfish the way Anul kissed you. Like he knew your heart wasn't fully in it but still wanted more, he and you both were shaking by the time he was done, his eyes in a lovesick daze that made your stomach churn.
"I love you, [Name], more then anyone in this entire world could imagine." And that, you knew was true.
Strip Poker with a Yandere Cowboy
Sometimes, a debt is best paid off on your knees. Tags: Male Yandere x Fem Reader, dubcon to noncon, thigh riding, older man, daddy kink goes brrr, 6.9k words
Thinking about losing a bet and losing it bad. One of those casinos where you can almost feel the grime in the air, shady looking dealers cutting cards right in front of you, but you're just too slow to realise it.
You're too drunk to be playing, and too pretty to be losing so bad.
When you're all out of chips, you should know better than to take house credit. But you're already in the hole - you've spent all your savings on poker and you need one big win to even it all out.
It's late when the game ends. Just you and two others left at the table, whiskey turning sour on your teeth when you realise just how bad you've screwed yourself over.
You're not surprised when two hulking enforcers come to get you. Suits all black and neatly pressed, but it's still not enough to hide their tattoos or scars. Not enough to soften their rough edges.
"Boss wants to talk to you, miss. If you would."
Nice of them to offer, but everyone at your table knows it's a farce. A little game of pretend so it doesn't hit quite so hard when they drag you off.
You stand, silently cursing yourself for being so stupid, for wearing such painful heels, for wearing such a short dress. They lead you towards the back of the casino, and every step feels like another nail in your coffin. You're not just deep in the hole anymore. You've somehow shoveled all the way past the goddamn mantle.
They take you to an office high above the casino. Floor to ceiling windows giving the boss a way to look out on his domain.
The first thing you notice about the room is the smell of leather and whiskey. Not unpleasant, especially not after being down there with the peasants.
The boss is standing at the window when you come in, holding a glass of whiskey. All you can see of him is his back - broad, the outline of his muscles showing through the cotton of his button up. His hair long enough to brush his collar, and thick.
The bouncers (thugs? enforcers?) leave you alone with him. Door whispering shut and locking you alone with your debt.
"You ain't a bad player, girl."
You try to smile. Fail.
"Not that good, or else we wouldn't be here."
He chuckles, rich and deep as brandy.
"C'mere. I wanna show you something."
You're halfway across the room before you even realise you've moved. Something in you jumps at his orders, and the rest of you struggles to catch up.
When you reach the window, the first thing you notice is the table you played at. The high rollers poker set up, smack dab in the middle of his view.
"I've been watching you all night, girl. You've got a good poker face, and a mighty interesting way of distracting your competition."
You cross your arms over your chest, suddenly self conscious. You aren't the first girl to wear a low cut dress to a card game, and you won't be the last. But hearing him point it out still makes you feel a little ashamed. No trick too low for a winner and all that, but still...
You change the topic.
"I know it's bad, but listen, I can give you my address, my ID, my banking details. Maybe I can pay the casino off in installments. I'm sure you've got some sort of loan agreement on standby for situations like these."
The man hums, and you turn to finally look at him.
He's older than you, his hair bordering on black and shot through with grey. Strong jaw, light stubble, nice lips. Hazel eyes, with fine lines at the corners.
If you had to picture a casino mogul with shady connections, he isn't what you'd come up with.
"That's true, but I reckon you don't exactly qualify."
His drawl is all Texan, deep and slow. It makes something inside you flutter.
"I've got a job. I know I'm a student, but I can pay."
He doesn't answer. Instead, he offers you his glass of whiskey.
You take it, more nervous than anything else. You're used to cheap tequila and even cheaper beer, but even you can tell that he drinks some high quality stuff. When you take a sip, the flavour sits on your tongue like a kiss.
"No sweetheart, I reckon you and I will have to work something else out. The kind of deal I only offer to... special customers."
You meet his eyes and you realise exactly what sort of customers he means. The pretty kind. The drunk kind. The too-short-skirt and too-high-stilettos kind.
Your throat goes dry and you toss back another gulp of whiskey to try and cover it up.
Your ma used to say that getting yourself into trouble meant no one else but you was responsible for getting out of it. But did that really mean dropping to your knees and paying off a debt with your tongue?
You look around his office, hoping to buy yourself some time. The floors are genuine hard wood, and there are stag heads mounted on the walls. There's a hunting rifle half assembled on his coffee table, in the middle of being cleaned.
"What..." You swallow, try again. "What do you want me to do?"
"Play a few rounds of poker with me."
That surprises you enough that you turn back to face him. There's a slight smile on his face, a kind of wry, secretive amusement.
"I think I'm all out of credit mister."
He grins full on, the tips of his fangs just barely visible behind his lips.
"We ain't playing for cash this time."
He looks you over, eyes roaming and then lingering. Your skin prickles over in goosebumps. You're used to men looking at you, but never so openly. Never so proprietary.
Like you're bought and paid for already.
"No darlin'. I reckon we play for the last thing you've got to your name."
He smiles again, wolf fangs showing. "I reckon we play for the clothes off your back."
Your breath hitches, eyes going wide. You don't know it, but you look just like a doe on the first day of spring. Looking right down the rifle but too stuck to run.
He sucks his teeth, still smiling. "Best out of ten. If I can get you out of your clothes by the end, you pay your debt off with.... well, I ain't gonna spell it out for you."
"And if you don't?"
"You walk out of here a free woman. Not owing us a cent and still in your pretty little dress."
The devil would have offered a better deal. But what else can you do? Sue him? Yeah, that'd go well. Broke college kid with a bad poker run against a man you're pretty sure works for the mafia. You won't even make it to court in one piece.
You pull in a slow breath, trying to still your heart.
You meet his eyes, even though it takes everything in you to hold them.
"Deal."
He offers you his hand just like the devil would, if Old Scratch decided to wear cowboy boots and Levi's. You take it, palm dwarfed by his.
He leads you to his desk and pulls a chair out for you, every inch the southern gentleman. His fingers brush the nape of your neck when he pulls away.
He sits down across from you and you can't help feeling small. It's like being in front of the principal all over again, huge mahogany desk and all.
He digs through a side drawer and pulls out a pack of playing cards, the box still wrapped in plastic. The sound of it tearing makes your ears tingle.
"Fresh deck. So we both know it's a fair game."
He shuffles just as fancy as you'd expect, cutting and then cutting again until the cards blur in his hands. You watch his hands, trying to spot tricks you know you can't hope to understand.
He's got nice hands, you notice in-between card spreads. Long fingers, clean nails, veins that stand out against his skin. A fancy watch on his wrist but no sign of a wedding ring, not even a tan line.
Well, maybe it ain't surprising. You wouldn't want to marry him either, if he regularly plays strip poker with his clients.
"You wanna deal first, darlin'?"
"Sure."
He offers you the deck but doesn't let go.
"You gotta kiss it for good luck. Don't ya know that?"
He's smiling at you again, that half twist to his lips that feels less welcoming than stepping straight into hell.
You lean forward and kiss the cards, your lipstick stain bright against the white.
"Is it my luck or yours?" you ask.
He lets go of the cards and watches as you deal.
"I guess we'll just have to see, won't we?"
Two man poker is a whole different game to the regular hold 'em. More aggressive. There aren't other hands to lessen the blow, so a draw is damn near impossible. No folding either, at least not against him. It's win or lose, no inbetween.
You win the first round, but just barely. Your palms slick and softening the edges of the new cards.
He doesn't react to losing. Not a smile or a frown or even a twitch in his fingers. He just takes the deck and deals again.
An ace, a jack and a king on the table. A ten and an eight in your hand. Not the worst, you can make it work.
He flips another card on the table. A nine. That gives you one more card for a straight.
You glance across at him and freeze. He hasn't even touched his cards. He's just looking at you, reclined all easy in his chair with the shadows falling across his face in stripes of dark.
"You've got a tell, girl. Do you know what it is?"
"No. But I get the sense you aren't going to tell me."
He picks up his whiskey and takes a sip, his lips brushing the lipstick stain you left behind.
"Nah. That wouldn't be any fun, would it?"
You look back at your cards. You can win this round with a little luck. Neither of you are betting with chips, so at least you don't have to worry about bluffing your way out. It's all luck this time. Luck and maybe just a bit of skill.
He draws the last card. Another king.
Not what you were hoping for. It leaves you with a four card straight.
He takes his time flipping his own cards over, watching you the entire time.
Your eyes flick down. Two kings. That means he has four of a kind. An easy win.
He doesn't even bother to look down. Just smiles as he reads the defeat in your face.
"Heels off, pretty girl."
You do it as slowly as you can, but you can't delay the inevitable. Your heels land on the wood floor with a thud. That leaves you in your stockings, your dress, your bra and your barely there thong. Four more pieces. Four more wins and you'll be his to claim.
He watches you without moving, still smiling. You can imagine this same scene playing out a hundred years ago. The gunslinger and the bar girl who landed too deep.
You reckon it would end the same too.
You shuffle the cards harder then you should, cardboard slapping in the silence. You deal fast, barely bothering to look at the three table cards.
Your own hand is a king and a three. Random.
He thumbs up the corner of his cards and you struggle to read anything in his face. Was that a slight twitch in his ring finger? A tightening around the eyes?
You flip the fourth and fifth cards in quick succession. Nothing at all to work with. Your hand is a total bust. You don't even bother trying to keep a poker face. You flip your cards over and start reaching for your stockings.
"High card," he says quietly.
You freeze and look at his cards. It's true. His hand is even worse than yours. You win because of your king.
You exhale sharply, feeling light as air. Three rounds down, still safe. Seven to go.
You win the fourth round with a damn lucky full house.
The fifth is cutting it close. You both end up with flushes, but he wins by having two more royals than you.
You try not to show too much skin as you slip out of your stockings. Thin material like this shouldn't make any difference, but you feel a little colder after losing them.
You don't feel very lucky. And maybe he can tell, because his smile gets just a bit wider.
You can still taste his whiskey when he deals the next round. Almost sweet. Almost mocking.
Your ears are buzzing with blood. Your heart rocketing against your chest. Three pieces of clothing left. Five rounds of poker. Are those good odds? You can't tell anymore.
You lose. Catastrophically.
He tries not to be smug, but not even his stone cold poker face can fully hide it.
"Need me to unzip you?"
"No."
You don't want him touching you. Not until the very end.
You reach back and unzip your dress with a little bit of tugging.
Better to just get it over with, right? You let the dress fall to the floor in a glittery heap and cross your arms across your chest. The cold sends goosebumps crawling across your thighs.
You're wearing a matching lace set. Bra and panty both a dark green. Your lucky colour, though you sure as hell don't feel lucky now.
He whistles.
"Didn't know you dressed up so nice 'fer me."
You sit back down and scoot your chair in, so the desk hides a bit more of your skin. You don't reply.
You win the seventh round, but any feeling of victory is crushed with the eighth. He wins it almost too easy.
You don't look at him as you undo your bra. You keep one arm pressed against your tits, but he clicks his teeth and you slowly lower it.
He doesn't whistle this time. But you can hear him shift forward in his chair, can hear the slight intake of breath.
You're sitting at his poker table in nothing but your panty with two rounds to go. You thought you begged lady luck plenty, but up until now you didn't know what true desperation felt like.
You shuffle as softly as you can, aware that every movement just brings attention straight to your chest.
You still try to avoid looking at him, even when you deal his cards.
He catches your wrist before you can pull away, his thumb bruising your pulse.
"Not so quick. Can't a man enjoy the view he's won?"
You finally meet his eyes. Darker now, much darker. Hazel bleeding into the golden brown of oak wood.
"You haven't won yet."
He let's you go, his smile fading.
The first three cards are a three, a seven and a nine.
Your hand is a three and a seven. A two pair right out of the gate. Still, you try not to be too hopeful.
The fourth table card is an eight.
But the fifth card? Your fingers are shaking when you flip it over.
He growls. The first real break in his carefully maintained poker facade.
A seven.
That leaves you with a full house, the fourth best hand. You win.
One more round to go.
He grabs the cards with more force than needed, bending the whole deck almost in half.
He shuffles fast. A lot faster than before, fingers moving differently somehow. It makes your spine tingle. He couldn't possibly be cheating while you're looking straight at him, right?
He tosses your cards at you like a proper dealer would, and then flips three onto the table faster than you can follow.
All hearts. An ace, a jack and a ten. Three parts of a royal flush.
You know without even looking at your cards that they're junk. And when you do finally pick them up, you realise its even worse than you thought. They're random number cards, no relation to the table cards at all.
The fourth and fifth table cards aren't much better. Your last hand is a total bust. You let them fall onto the table without bothering to wait for the call.
Stupidly, you want to cry. You can feel that lump in your throat, can feel that pricking behind your eyes. You sniffle without meaning to.
"Don't be so hard on yourself, doll," he says kindly, "You were never going to win."
He flips his cards over. They stare back at you like an accusation.
The king and queen of hearts.
That gives him a royal flush. He wins, with a hand few people ever have the luck to draw.
He stands and slowly comes around the desk. Your eyes are glued to the floor and all you can see of him are the tips of his boots. A soft, brown leather. Worn in, but clean.
No fake vaquero then. He's cowboy all the way through.
He rests a hand on your hair.
"Stand up, sweetheart." He isn't unkind about it.
You swallow and push yourself to your feet. You've been naked in front of men plenty of times before. But never like this. Somehow, you feel exposed. Like he's peeled away more than just your clothes. Like you're standing with both your tits and your soul bare.
He touches your hips and you flinch, still looking down at the floor. His thumbs run over the lace of your panties. He flicks the elastic and it thrums against your skin with a small snap.
"These are mine now, ain't they?"
You nod.
He hooks his fingers under the lace and tugs them down. Your underwear drops to the floor without even a whisper.
He takes a slow, deep breath. Then drags his palms up your sides, stopping at your rib cage - right under your tits.
"I'm gonna be good to you, girl. I promise."
You steel yourself and slowly drag your eyes up to meet his. You try to keep them back, but you can feel tears collecting at your waterline. You blink and they splash down onto your cheeks, warm as blood.
He doesn't wipe them away.
He leans forward and presses his lips against your forehead. As sweetly as a father would.
"I've got you, sweetheart. I've got you."
That only makes the tears come faster. Because he does have you - every inch of you, bought and paid for.
He leads you back to his side of the desk, your legs as unsteady as spring willow.
He sits down in his chair and looks up at you, palms cradling your hips. He traces his thumb across your skin, admiring.
"Come sit on my lap, girl."
You don't want to. You desperately don't want to.
But you do anyway, humiliation scorching your cheeks.
He clicks his tongue and grabs your legs, forces them apart so you're straddling his thigh, your back against his chest. He bounces his leg and the denim grinds against your clit.
Your gasp and make the mistake of looking back at him.
He's reclined in his chair like Lucifer at lunch, at ease and smug all at once.
"Didn't your daddy ever bounce you on his knee, girl?"
"No."
He lays a hand on the curve of your waist, his thumb stroking electric tingles down your spine.
"Guess I'll have to do what your daddy never could then, huh?"
He bounces his leg again, his jeans rubbing past your folds and scraping against your clit. You hiss, closing your legs like that can make any difference. How does he keep doing that? Aren't you heavy?
His other hand comes to your waist, and without any warning, he drags you backwards a few inches. Your clit rubs on his jeans fast enough to almost burn.
"C'mon girl, don't tell me you're so sensitive already?"
He rocks your hips forward and you shudder.
"Of course I am! It's fucking rough."
He clicks his tongue again, like he would at a horse.
"Watch your tongue. I don't like it when my girl swears."
His thumbs press indents into your skin, pushing your hips forward so you end up right back where you started, your clit ten times more sensitive.
He reaches forward and tilts your chin towards him, so you're looking at him over your shoulder.
"You gonna make me wash your mouth out, girl?"
You have a pretty clear idea of what he wants to use and it sure as hell ain't soap.
"No."
"No, what?"
He can't be serious. Isn't this embarrassing enough? Still, you have no power here. None to deny him, none to turn him away.
"No, sir."
It burns your tongue to say it.
He hums quietly, happy as a cat with stolen cream.
He leans up and nips your ear.
"Show me what you got, kid. Ride me and maybe I'll let you go."
He drags his lips down your neck before he pulls away.
You bite your lip, feeling like you've just been tossed on stage with a microphone and nothing else. You feel like you need to perform for him, and it's humiliating.
You rock your hips forward a little. It doesn't feel so bad, when you're the one in control. His jeans are rough on your clit, but... electrifying too.
You do it again, a little further, his leg solid and thick between your thighs. His hands slip from your waist to your ass, grabbing and kneading.
"Thaaat's it. Don't it feel real good?"
Your pussy is getting wetter and you can feel it soaking through his jeans. You feel just a little bolder. Give him a good show and maybe things won't have to go quite so far as you fear.
And hey, you ain't exactly a virgin. You know how to ride a man.
You stretch your arms up and cross them behind your head, all the better for him to admire your body. You grind forward on his thigh, clit rubbing against the traces of slick that soaked into the fabric.
You gasp again, not so shy about being quiet.
You hear him hiss softly, but he doesn't stop you.
You pick up your pace, sliding on him like a bull rider would. You didn't think it possible, but you feel your cunt pulsing. Feel it aching for something to fill it.
Riding on an older man's knee, with your back arched like a cat in heat. Debt hanging like a sword over your neck. And still, your body wants to be fucked. Demands to be fucked.
You don't realise his hands have moved until you feel his fingers brush your clit. His fingers are hot and slick with spit, and he forces them between your pussy lips.
You freeze, his spit smeared all over your cunt.
"What -"
He doesn't let you finish. One arm curls around your waist and her drags you back against his chest, your ass pressing against the icy cold of his belt buckle.
The new position leaves your cunt wide open to his touch, and his thumb presses hard against your clit.
"Fucking tease," he mutters, thumb tracing lower and probing at your entrance. "Had to watch you all night, my cock fucking aching."
"Wait, slow down. I -"
He slips his thumb into your cunt. Not deep, but rough.
You gasp. Try and squirm away, but all it gets you is another hiss in your ear and his belt grinding against your bare ass.
"Told myself I was gonna go all slow with you. Fucking impossible."
He takes his hand away from your cunt and sucks his fingers. When he touches your clit again, hot spit drools down your folds.
So icky.
He doesn't care if you don't like it. He rubs it like lube all over your cunt, two fingers probing at your entrance.
Gross. You don't want his spit inside you.
But there's no real way to tell him that, is there? Not when he owns you for the rest of the night. Not when you agreed to it.
His fingers push inside you, stretching you out with a dull ache. So much thicker than when you touch yourself, his fingertips reaching so much deeper. His skin isn't soft like yours is - you can tell he's worked with his hands because you can feel it. Lord help you, you can feel every inch.
"Hot and wet," he murmurs against your hair. "Just how I like it."
He pumps them in and out of you a few times, before pulling out with a twist that makes you shudder.
"Needed to check. Make sure you can handle my cock."
He holds his fingers up and slowly separates them. Slick and spit stretch in thin strings. Are you really that wet already? How? You didn't think you were the type to even get wet. All the men before him would have to dig your bottle of lube out of the nightstand before you even let them near you.
He brings his fingers up to your lips, smears the slick across them.
"Open up."
It's his spit.
You don't want to taste it. Don't want it in your mouth. He's not your boyfriend, he's not your lover. He's just a thug with a thing for girls two decades younger than him.
He presses harder against your lips.
"Open. Up."
You do. His fingers make your tongue tingle, long enough to brush the back of your throat and almost make you gag. The taste isn't the worst. You can mostly taste yourself - salty as seawater - and a little bit of whiskey.
"Suck."
You try not to think about it. Just suck him off and pretend it's your own fingers.
"Good girl."
He pulls his fingers out of your mouth and grabs your jaw.
"You ain't gonna give me any trouble about what comes next, are you?"
Your answer is muffled by the way he's holding you, but it's still clear enough to understand.
"No, sir."
"Good. Don't wanna have to wrestle you into place."
It makes you shiver. The implication that he can. That he would. If you decide to put up a fight, it's not going to stop him. Not going to make him back away and question the boundaries of consent. He's going to fuck you, whether you want it or not.
He relaxes his hold on your jaw, his palm skimming down your throat. A reminder, whether he means it to be or not.
He squeezes your tit. Not too hard, skin warm against yours.
"Stand up," he orders, his voice tight.
You're barely on your feet before he's pushing you forward, one hand on the nape of your neck.
He bends you over his desk.
The wood is cool and smooth against your skin. Almost comforting. Almost.
The sound of his belt coming undone is loud in the silence. You've heard that sound so many times before - that little clink of metal - but not once has it sounded quite so awful.
You want to stand up, want to at least have some say in what's about to happen.
No chance. His hand on your neck is tight, like he's holding down a calf for slaughter.
"Been wanting this since the moment I saw you."
He kisses your temple, and then your cheek. He ignores the tears pooling on the sleek mahogany.
He catches your wrists and pins them against your lower back. Not twisting enough to hurt, but tight enough that he has you caught all the same.
Your arms pinned and one hand holding you down by the nape. That's how he takes you.
He doesn't even bother trying to be nice. The head of his cock catches on your entrance and then he's pushing all the way in.
He bottoms out with a snarl, his grip tightening on your neck.
He pulls out almost all the way, and then slams right back in. You bite back a scream, your whole body tensing up.
Didn't he say he was going to be good to you? What kind of goodness is this?
"Too much to handle, girl?" he mocks, all his southern charm withered and gone.
"That's okay." He drags you up by your neck, your back arching painfully. "By the time I'm done, you'll know what it's like to get ridden by a real cowboy."
He drops you, you chin slamming hard against the wood. You taste blood, though you aren't sure from where.
He grabs your wrist and crosses your arm behind your back, so that your right wrist ends up next to your left hip and vice versa. It's uncomfortable. Almost painfully so.
And worst of all, it gives him all the leverage he needs to start pounding into you. Mean. Rough. Hard enough that every thrust has the huge desk rocking forward.
"Slow down! It hurts!"
He laughs.
"Too big 'fer you? Huh, little girl?"
"Yes! Ju-just go easy. Please."
He snarls as he bottoms out again, his throbbing tip scraping the deepest parts of your cunt. Spreading pre cum all across your cervix.
"Say you love me."
"What?"
He pulls all the way out, panting. His tip rubs against your clit, hot and wet and sticky.
"Say you love me and I'll slow down."
Is he insane? You don't even know his name. You can't love him, not with the way he's touched you. It's cruel to make you say it - haven't you entertained enough of his perversion?
You take too long to answer him.
His grip tightens on your wrists. Harder than anyone has ever held you.
"Fine," he growls, "The hard way it is."
You don't last long. Every lover you've ever had would stop if you even flinched. Until tonight, you didn't think sex could hurt so bad. You didn't think being fucked could leave you sobbing, praying for it to end.
You didn't realise that some men get off on seeing your tears.
By the time you manage to say it, your cunt is a sobbing, aching mess. Your nipples are rubbed raw from the friction, your wrists not much better.
"I love you."
He doesn't even break pace. Cock spearing inside you with less mercy than the Devil.
"Again."
"I love you."
"Again."
"I love you! I've always loved you! You're the man I've waited for all my life. I love you. Please stop hurting me."
He does.
He loosens his grip on your wrists and hooks one massive arm around your waist. He flips you over so you're on your back.
And oh, what a sight you make. Mascara running. Lips swollen. Tears caught in your lashes. Ruined.
He forces his way between your thighs and leans down, palms on either side of your face.
His hair is messy, his shirt half undone. But it's his eyes that catch you.
There's hellfire in the way he looks at you.
"Again," he says quietly.
You swallow, your words and your courage abandoned on the floor with your dress and stockings.
"I..."
He waits, never looking away from you.
"I love you."
He smiles. It doesn't comfort you at all.
"Liar."
He touches your cheek, surprisingly gentle.
"You have a tell, remember? I'll always know when you're lying."
He leans down and kisses you. His tongue presses against your teeth, and then swipes deeper into your mouth.
Old enough to be your father and he's got you naked on his desk, cunt drooling around his cock and his tongue down your throat. It's blasphemy. It's monstrous.
It's the best damn fuck he's ever had.
He doesn't break off the kiss when he starts thrusting. Slower this time, savouring the way your cunt throbs around him.
You whine against his lips, your cunt still burning.
"Quit 'yer complainin'," he murmurs, "Goin' slow, ain't I?"
His Texan drawl getting thicker the longer he's between your legs.
"Hurts..."
"You want me to come in your mouth instead?"
You shiver, not sure which is worse.
"Fine. You wanna choke on it? I ain't gonna stop ya."
He pulls you up and gathers your hair in his fist. An awkward position, but with you sitting on the edge of the desk, all you have to do is lean down to take his cock in your mouth.
He's surprisingly patient with you. Or maybe he just likes seeing you naked and crying on his desk.
It's almost over, you tell yourself. Just suck him off and you can leave. Put it all behind you and never touch a deck of cards again.
His cock is creamy with your juices. Most of it in a ring around the base.
You lick the tip and shiver. It's bitter. The way pomegranates sometimes are.
His hand on your head is heavy, demanding. You don't want him on your tongue, but he's already taken so much. What difference does this last bit make?
You try and relax, try and take all of him. It doesn't work. You gag, tears brimming on your eyes.
He huffs, amused almost. Or mocking. You can't tell.
"I can always finish in your cunt, if you can't handle it."
No. You most definitely can't handle that.
You take a deep breath through your nose. You can handle it. You will handle it.
You grab his belt and pull him a little closer, nails digging divots in the leather.
He makes a pleased sort of noise and pushes your head down, all the way to the base. It's awful. You're overwhelmed by the taste, the smell, the feel of him.
He groans.
"Takin' it so fucking good, ain'tcha?"
He keeps you in place by your hair, and slowly pulls out. He let's you catch a hasty breath before he's right back in, a growl rumbling through him.
"Yeah, I reckon you needed this too. Needed your daddy to teach you a lesson on taking dick."
He chuckles, still fucking your throat with slow, deep thrusts.
"Needed to be reminded of your place in the world. Right here on my cock."
He has ridiculous stamina. None of your boyfriends have lasted half as long.
You moan around his cock and he shudders, grip tightening on your hair.
"You want to end this? Want me to let you go?"
You nod, looking up at him through your lashes with your mouth stuffed full of cock. Poor thing. Got more than you bargained for, didn't you?
He smirks, teeth ready to tear you apart.
"Then just hold still, alright? Gonna fuck your throat good and proper."
He bucks his hips and you choke. Whole body tensing as you gag and fight to hold still. He doesn't go so fast that you can't handle it, but you're right on the brink. Tears coming fast, lips feeling raw and bruised.
The sound of it is obscene. The slick sliding of his cock, the small coughs and gags. All of it the epitome of filthy sex.
Your hands move from his belt to his thighs, half to steady yourself, half to slow him down.
He's thrusting deep, his breathing getting faster. Each exhale almost a snarl.
He grabs your jaw and holds your mouth open right before he comes, his tip resting on the edge of your tongue.
His spunk shoots across your tongue and palette - flooding your senses with the the taste of him. And for a second or two, you think you'll never be able to rinse it away.
He groans, shamelessly loud.
"There," he pants, "Just how it's 'sposed to be."
He pulls out and tilts your chin up until you meet his eyes.
"Swallow."
You do. It's goes down thick - clinging to your teeth. Your stomach clenches, like your body knows exactly what you've consumed.
"Good."
He takes a deep breath, and then let's you go.
Well, for a second or two. Long enough to tuck his cock back in his jeans and redo his belt. And then he's grabbing you around the waist and pulling you against his chest.
He sits back down and drags you with him. Back on his lap, just like you started. Only difference is, this time your head is tucked under his chin and he's got one arm loosely draped over your thighs.
For a minute or two, there's only the sound of you both catching your breath
You don't want to keep thinking. You wish your brain would just shut up and let you get through this without pointing out all the ways you're hurting.
You try and sit up, maybe grab your clothes, but he doesn't let you. Hand coming up to press your head back against his chest.
You sag against him, defeated. Still not done then.
He's the one who finally breaks the silence.
"I know you, girl," he murmurs against your hair. "Better than you think. Tonight ain't the first I've noticed you."
You hum quietly, not sure what he wants you to say.
"You wanna know something funny? I've got a whole lot of dealers in this place. And almost all of them are honest men."
You lift your head a little.
"Almost all?"
"Just about every single one them. Except for the one you had tonight."
You go cold.
"You rigged my game." Your voice is hoarse - from tears, from his cock, from fear.
He laughs. " 'Course I did. House always wins, doll. But sometimes I just nudge things along."
He strokes a hand up your thigh, lazy and possessive.
"Like tonight. When I had a pretty girl on the line and an empty bed to fill."
You try and pull away, but his arm is still tight around your waist. Keeping you pressed up against him.
"How many? How many girls have you done this to?"
"A handful. Can't really remember all their faces, after all these years. But doll, none of them were you."
"What difference does it make? You're... you're a monster. A predator."
He laughs, indulgent.
"That what you wanna call it? I just call it 'risk management.' Folk know exactly what they're signing up for when they walk through those doors. Ain't my fault some of 'em don't know when to stop."
You push against his chest, trying to force your way off his lap. He's too hot, too close, too terrible. This man was inside you and it turns your stomach. You feel dirty from the inside out.
He clicks his teeth and squeezes your thigh.
"Quit squirmin'. You ain't goin' nowhere."
"Let me up. You got what you wanted, right? Our deal is done."
You slap his chest, hard.
"Let me go."
He doesn't.
"You really wanna be difficult with me, hmm?"
He smacks your ass, full strength. You yelp and jerk away. But there isn't anywhere to go except closer against him.
"You ain't going nowhere. So just sit pretty and let your daddy tell you a story."
"I don't want -"
He rubs his palm over your ass, over the same spot he hit you. You shiver and shut your mouth.
"Like I was sayin', all of those girls were just flings. I let 'em go if they don't want it. If they prefer the interest, so be it."
He's smiling. You can hear it in his voice.
"They never do though. Not when the choice is between fifteen minutes sucking my cock or fifteen years at prime lending rate."
He runs his palm over your ass again, squeezing.
"But you're special, ain'tcha? You're my girl. No more flings after you."
He presses a kiss against the crown of your head.
"You're the one I've been waiting for."
"You can't," you manage. "You can't keep me here. We had a deal. My debt is settled."
"You think I can't pull a few strings?" He sounds more amused than insulted. Like a father when his daughter says he can't pick her up like Superman. "It ain't hard, doll. A car left abandoned out in the desert. Your phone and ID all neat in the glove box. Couple grand to a captain on the force to have your case packed away as cold. Easy as apple pie."
You're icy from the tips of your fingers to your toes. He runs a hand through your hair, soothing.
"But I don't gotta do that, do I?"
Your lips are numb. No, no, no - this isn't how it's supposed to go. You know he's a thug, you know he has connections beyond what a legal man ought to have. Can't be a casino boss otherwise. But none of that was ever supposed to apply to you. You're just a dumb student who spent a few too many weekends at the tables. That doesn't deserve a punishment like this.
"Do I?"
"No, sir."
"Right. Because you're going to stay with me without putting up a fuss. Gonna be my girl."
"Yes, sir."
He hums, pleased.
"You'll love it here, doll. You can play as much poker as you want. All on the house."
survival
you apply to a dating-show in hopes of winning enough money so you and your sister can live comfortably. what you didn’t know that you would be competing to death for the heart of one man while those on the dark web watched.
word count: 12.569
warning: several character death, blood, dark web, yandere tendencies, kissing, voyeurism, manipulative tactics, cult-like behaviors, orgy (ft. jimin+taehyung+jungkook), oral sex (f), unprotected sex, fingering, public sex, nipple sucking, dirty talk, overstimulation, creampie, exhibitionism,
@sweetempathprunetree @darkuni63 @momnomnom @bangtans-momma @chimmy-licious @investedreader @chimmisbae @
valentine's day masterlist
“Let’s get something straight, ladies.”
Your eyes turn towards who is speaking. The woman is tall, her skin almond and seemingly shining beneath the golden lights of the mansion. Her hair is neatly slicked into a bun, not an out of place hair in sight. Her eyes are dark as they roam around the room at each one of the contestants. She raises a manicured hand, crimson nails going around to point at each of you - six women in total.
“This is a competition.” the woman says, lowering her hand. “You all are not friends.”
You don’t respond, opting to listen instead as the other women chatter amongst themselves. One thing for certain, you didn’t have to be told at all.
“For the past week, you along with hundreds of other women had fought diligently to be where you are standing now. This is your final challenge. Look to your left and your right, as you are now competing against your direct rivals.”
You glance around, the mansion surely was luxurious. It has the highest ceilings you’ve ever seen; not as if you’ve seen many. It’s bright with shining lights, a sparkling chandelier high on the ceiling that caught your attention upon having entered. The floors are marble and appear so clean that you could even see your reflection on it.
“You each have rooms located up the staircase.” the woman waves her hand to the large staircase, its carpets are dark and looks as if it wouldn’t squeak beneath your feet like the stairs you’ve grown accustomed to. “Your names are located on the door. Here, you will change into what you see is fitting for today's challenges.”
The woman begins to stroll up the stairs, her heels not being a problem in the slightest as you six begin to follow her.
The railings are a mahogany color and as you walk further up, you notice the walls are painted with a mural of a landscape. It appears to be a forest going through different stages of seasons, winter being the first and spanning all the way through spring, summer and fall. Your eyes marvel at the sight - how detailed the mural was and how long it must’ve taken to complete.
“I can’t believe we’re in such an amazing house.”
Your attention is caught when one girl speaks. You’re now at the top of the stairs and make your way towards the bedroom, your eyes skinning over the names until you see where yours is. The door is tall and has the same mahogany color as the stair railings. There’s carnings on the wooden door displaying an array of flowers. The handle is cold and shiny and it clicks as you open it.
The room is large - the largest room you’ve even encountered, even larger than your living room in your apartment.
As you enter, the lights turn on automatically, the same high ceilings as the rest of the mansion with a diamond chandelier right in the middle of the room, as well. Below it, a large queen sized bed that’s elevated sits, an array of pillows displayed neatly on it.
The floors are the same marble as before, only this time there’s a white, fluffy rug by the bed.
You release a sigh, kicking off your shoes to then go towards the bed. You plop down onto it and it slightly bounces back. You have never been on a bed that was this comfortable before and it’s as if it embraces you entirely, your eyes already becoming heavy.
There’s a loud ringing nose that catches you by surprise and you spring up from the bed. Your heart is pounding and your head whips around to find where the ringing is coming from - it’s loud, almost as if it’s a speaker, but you cannot find from where.
“Welcome,”
The voice speaks and you’re now positive that it is a speaker - maybe on the walls or ceilings.
Your eyes cannot find anything.
“Anjali, Chan-Mi, Y/N,” your ears perk when the speaker - a man - says your name. “Zarish, Luisa, Siohban.”
You suppose these are the girls you will be competing against. You swallow the lump in your throat as the speaker continues to speak.
“I suppose you all know what you six are getting into being a part of this?”
“A dating show…?” your sister murmurs, her eyes cautiously watching you. “...out of everything? A dating show?”
“I’m not expecting anyone to understand.” you suppress a laugh. You tap your fingers against your thigh as you sit besides her on the small couch in your living area.
“You’re trying to find love in this economy?”
“Realistically? No.” you shrug your shoulders. You and she were watching something she had put on Youtube when you had decided to tell her your plans. “But I read the terms and condition and the contract so-”
“You’re serious? About going on a dating show?”
Your sister doesn’t look amused in the slightest and honestly, you didn’t blame her. You and she would laugh at how ridiculous the girls looked pinning after one man and often fighting for his heart just for him to not choose any of them - and now you were going to be doing the same.
“For love? No. I don’t even expect to be chosen.” you admit, turning towards her to give her a soft smile. “But, we do get paid for being on there. Exposure, too. It’s a start and whatever money we need I will surely take.”
Your sister sighs, nodding slightly. “How long will you be gone?”
“A week max. It’s live, apparently.”
You were older than your sister by nearly five years, having taken her in a year after you left home yourself. While your sister remained in High School, you had to be the one to work for everything you and she both needed - two jobs weren’t ideal for you, but you made it work.
As time went on, bills increased, as did rent and the overall cost of living. Your sister needed necessities and as did you and your two job income wasn’t enough.
“How did you find out about this?”
“Job interview.” you snort, as if two jobs weren’t enough, you were thinking about picking up a third - just for a few hours you had free on your off days. “Said I…would fit the part. Whatever that means.”
“Would I be able to watch it live? What type of dating show is only a week?” your sister is asking all of the correct questions that you should - but you are only there for the money; you are sure everyone else is, as well.
“I’m not even sure where it would be streaming. I’ll have to ask. I’m sure it’s very…variety show like? Maybe even a game show?” you shrug your shoulders, pondering if there would be an elimination every day of the week; how anyone would find love that way is beyond you. “Us competing for a man possibly none of us are attracted to.” you joke. “Having us do odd challenges to win his heart.”
“I bet he’s ugly and old.” you sister cringes. “What if you have to kiss him?”
You cackle, head leaning back to laugh. “For a few thousands, it’s what I have to do. Life isn’t cheap.” In the back of your head, you understand that this isn’t ideal - that your sister was right and this could be an older guy who’s not the most attractive looking man; as no one knows what he looks like. But if this is what you had to do then so be it.
You were taking a week off of work for this - luckily, paid time off has come through for both jobs. “Even if I’m not the winner, honestly, let’s hope for that. I’ll be back.” you promise her.
Your sister nods her head slightly, tilting her head to the side to look at you.
You understood what you were getting into and doing this for - and you are positive your motive is similar to the other five women. None of which know who the man is, his beliefs, likes or dislikes - anything. You were all completely in it for the money; the promise of a lavish lifestyle.
In the beginning, you told yourself that you didn’t need to win, you think, you just had to be here long enough to get any form of prize.
However, now, you’re certain that this was now or never. You came this far and even managed to be picked by the man himself along with the other five women; all rivals of yours.
“That being said, the competition starts immediately. I’m looking for a wife and I don’t have much time to find her.”
You want to scoff at how desperate the man sounds. You try to put a face to the voice, but are unable to. He sounds young, no older than 30, but with the way technology is now, you can never be certain.
“The game starts now, you all.” the voice says. “If I cannot find a wife in you five, then that means I’ll have to do this all over again - and I’ll rather not.”
There’s a shiver that runs down your spine at his words and you’re unsure as to why. You take a deep breath.
“I need a wife that knows how to cook exactly what I want.” Your feet begin to move with impatience. “This mansion holds several kitchens. In about an hour, I expect you all to be downstairs and in your designated kitchen doing just that. I’m not a picky man,” there’s heartfelt laughter from him. “and I cannot wait to try what you all cook for me.”
The room is quiet again, indicating that the man was done speaking.
You swallow. You had an hour to get ready and to you, that was more than enough. You worked with as little as five minutes before, an hour was nothing to you.
You start by going to the closet - a large walk in one - that holds clothing that you were told would be in there. You would be cooking, so there isn’t a point to overdress, however, you understood that you can’t look as if you’re at home. Your usual oversized t-shirt and sweats wouldn’t be acceptable.
You also weren’t going to force yourself into a tight dress to appeal to the eye of the man you’re supposed to be cooking for. It didn't make sense.
The next 30 minutes consisted of you showering and getting ready yourself. You weren’t positive if this was when the man would make his appearance to you all, and you had to be prepared in case he had.
You stood out amongst the other five women who were all dressed to impress and you would only be a hater to say that they didn’t look nice. Even better than you.
You swallow, casting your eyes ahead of you to look at the women from early; the host.
“An hour to prepare a meal.” the woman states, her hands behind her back as she strolls towards you six. “In your designated kitchen, there would be food already laid out for you. What you do with it is all up to you. Follow me.”
The woman begins to stroll out of the large foyer and down into a hallway where each of you follow her. The mansion is huge indeed, having separate kitchens for each girl to go into. Yours was the third, and immediately you found yourself going to work.
The kitchen is huge - of course - and has a chandelier right above you hanging from a tall ceiling. The floors are hardwood and pristine and don't creek beneath your feet. On the kitchen island located in the middle of the large kitchen, lay an apron that you proceed to tie around your body.
You cooked for you and your sister whenever you had the chance to. It was enjoyable at times as you loved cooking for her. Cooking now, however, was a necessity to win. You needed to be the best, and if not, you needed to be damn close to it.
An hour flew past as though it was only five minutes. Your hair, once laid perfectly into a tidy bun, was sweated out a bit. You huffed at your reflection into the knife you were holding upon seeing yourself.
“Time’s up. Bring your plates of food back to the foyer.” says a voice over the speakers, this time not the man, but the host.
You drop your knife into the sink and turn towards the island where your plate of food sat. You were given steak and did what you thought you could with it, stewing it along with vegetables. You cooked a simple white rice atop of lettuce - you’ve done what you thought you could with what little you had.
“Ladies.” the host says, nodding to you all. “Place your plates right here onto the table.” she says, motioning to the large, glass table behind her. There’s cards that sit about six inches from one another that have each of your names labeled onto them.
“Now, Kim Seokjin-ssi will test them all.” she proceeds to say as each of you gather back into a line.
Kim Seokjin.
Your eyes begin to widen as a man, tall and slender, begins to strut from up the staircase to where you all stood. Your eyes are fixed onto him - as are the other women. Your mouth parts a bit as he bows before all of you, a mop of dark hair bouncing.
“Hello to you all.” the man says, a familiar voice dancing through your ears. The same exact voice of earlier.
Kim Seokjin was not an older man, no. He was young; and maybe you should’ve guessed by his voice. However, he didn’t look a day over 25. His skin was clear of any blemishes and porcelain similar to a doll. His eyes are beady as he looks between the six of you. His lips, plump and pink, form a low smile.
Jin is sporting a solid, black dress shirt that he proceeds to cuff toward his elbows. His dress pants are baggy and brown, however not a wrinkle in sight. You ponder just how much his outfit is, as you were told that wealth such as him doesn’t talk, but whispers.
“Now, let’s see.” Jin says, clapping his hands as he turns away.
Jin eyes the array of food on the table, humming to himself softly.
It takes 10 minutes for Jin to try it all. Ten long minutes of you all waiting in silence as he eats, nodding his head a few times and then whispering to the host, who would either snicker or respond.
“Siobhan.” Jin speaks, his back not turning to face either of you. The host does, stepping away from Jin. “Come closer, please.”
Siobhan does, her long locks bouncing onto her shoulders as she comes face to face with Jin. He’s a beauty of a man and instantly, your heart jolts. Jealousy, sure, yet you weren’t here for true love. This wasn’t the bachelor. You were here for money and that only.
“Chan-Mi…Luisa…you two, as well.”
Your blood runs cold, your palms beginning to sweat. You’re unsure what Jin is doing - if you’re about to be eliminated or not. Your eyes glance at the other two women left, Zarish and Anjali. You suck in a breath, turning your eyes back to Jin. It would be humiliating to be sent home so early.
“Your food is…”
You swallow as the man slowly turns, his arms now behind his back. The smile on his lips he sported 10 minutes prior had disappeared.
“Lackluster.” Jin murmurs, and instantly his right arm jerks, a dagger held tight into the palm of his hand. He slices Siohban’s throat as quickly as yall all seen it, the woman gasping and clenching onto her neck.
There’s shrieks that erupt around the room as Siohban falls to her knees in a pool of her own blood. Your eyes widen, a hand going to clasp onto your own mouth and the sudden sight before you.
Without much warning, the knife is japped right into Chan-Mi’s stomach, her scream haunting you. You’re frightened where you stand, your eyes wide.
Luisa is next, but she knows what to expect. She turns to run away, but trips with how terrified she is. She falls onto the ground before she has the chance to go anywhere and Jin lets a hand grab her long, wavy hair. He yanks it back, the dagger slicing right against her throat. Blood squirts out of it, splashing a few feet away from yours. You feel your stomach churn, the sudden need to vomit.
“Do calm down.” Jin says, throwing the knife onto the ground by Siobhan, who’s body appears lifeless. “This is a competition. I know you all aren’t here for love.” Jin scoffs with a roll of his eyes. “You’re here for money. I have a lot of it. However…” Jin looks between the remaining three of you.
You were the calmest, however, maybe you were just hiding it. There’s great fear in your eyes that has you startled into silence, only a single tear falling from your eyes. Zarish had fallen to her knees, pushed the farthest away from you and Anjali, who was trembling at the sight.
“...you’re going to have to show me what you’re willing to do for it.”
“I know you three need some time.”
You had proceeded to vomit into the toilet as soon as you entered your bedroom. You thanked the shared bathroom, as you’re unsure how much longer you could last. The heinous sight of murder flashed before your eyes, no matter how hard you attempted to squeeze them shut.
Your heart pumps with fear. Just an hour ago you stood before three dead bodies - this was real. This wasn’t a dream, nor a prank. The screams of fear coming from you all were real.
Jin had gone on for the next 10 minutes explaining the rules - rules you thought were already given to you. Of course they weren’t. You had gotten yourself into this mess, biting more than you could even chew. There was no “out” of this. Once witnessing bloody murder, Jin had told you three the truth. That there were only two ways out of this twisted game of his. You either had to win and become his wife, or lose and be dead.
There was no leaving alive unless you were the sole winner.
This was a life or death situation now; you were truly fighting for your life.
“But I am in need of a wife as you know. You’ll need to do more than just cook.”
Jin’s voice is taunting you through the speakers. He speaks coolly, as if he hadn’t killed anyone. You ponder just how long he’s done this - and if there is any way out of this at all. Or was this just a sick game where he would eventually kill all of you and repeat the game again.
You proceed to flush the toilet, falling besides it as Jin continues to speak.
“I need a wife that knows how to clean, as well. In an hour, meet in the foyer and await your next challenge.”
You squeeze your eyes shut, body trembling on the cold tile floor. You aren’t sure if you could do this anymore. You’re terrified that you’d be the next to go; it was only three left and it hasn’t even been a day.
Jin’s impatient and he doesn’t wish to wait any longer than he needs. He wants someone now; tonight preferably.
Your eyes snap open, staring straight ahead.
You couldn't afford to die. You weren’t here for just yourself. You had a sister you needed to take care of.
You took a shower in case it happens to be your last, at least you would know a bit or peace. You are the first to be in the foyer, followed by Zarish. She doesn’t look at you when she arrives, and you cannot blame her. Neither of you wish to be here. The atmosphere has changed from one of lighthearted competition to dreadful act of survival.
Anjali is the last to arrive and the girl's brown eyes are red and puffy from her crying. She’s trembling when she arrives and even though you sympathize with her, you cannot bring yourself to care far too much into it. You had to care about the life of your sister and that was the will you needed to survive this.
“Ladies,” the host claps as she struts into the foyer. “follow me.”
The host makes no attempts in waiting for you all, nor does she stop to acknowledge you three. She takes you down a long hallway until you three stopped behind three separate doors. She proceeds to turn back towards you. Her eyes trail between your faces before she stops at Anjali and scoffs.
“You won’t survive if you keep trembling like that.” she says snarkily. “Behind these doors is your next challenge. As you know…” she stops dramatically to look between you once more. “...Kim Seokjin isn’t just any man. His line of work is different from normal men. That being said.”
The doors are automatic and they open before the host could finish her sentence.
The sight behind the doors is traumatic. You instantly gag, clenching a hand to your mouth.
Behind your door lies the dead body of Chan-Mi. The room is covered in blood. It’s a single room, all white. White walls and tiled floors that’s stained crimson.
“Jin would like you three to clean the room and get rid of the body.”
Anjali instantly shrieks, her back hitting the wall behind you all. She shakes her head, her hands tugging her hair.
“Please, I-I-”
“You have an hour.” the host interrupts. “Do whatever you think you need to do.”
Inside the room, there’s a timer high onto the wall and close to the ceiling. It ticks down exactly one hour - a short time to clean a murder scene.
Your mind tries to think back to the true crime shoes you’d watch with your sister on how you could possibly get rid of a body; you never thought you would be in this situation.
You spring into action, making your way down the hall.
“W-Where are you going?” Anjali calls for you, not moving from the wall.
You don’t answer. You were told to do anything necessary to clean this mess up. For the first time you notice it - the cameras. It’s high and it follows you as you walk. You ponder just how many people are watching you here being forced to commit these criminal acts, now fully engrossed in it.
You open doors until you find one with cleaning supplies. You take a deep breath, grabbing whatever your arms could hold.
You work on autopilot, your mind completely blank as you work. You wrapped Chan-Mi’s body in one too many trash bags, refusing to look into her face. Her eyes were open but lifeless like the rest of her.
Dragging a body was harder than the movies made it, placing it right outside of the room and making your way back inside to clean it. You scrub onto your hands and knees, mind remaining blank as you focus on removing the crimson from your sight. 45 minutes, 30 minutes, 20 minutes.
Your heart is pumping outside your chest and your breath heaves as you drag the body down the hallway to the front door. You hadn't had any time to explore the mansion and today wasn’t going to be the day. You had 15 minutes until the challenge was done and you were told to get rid of the body by any means necessary.
The mansion is quiet and you’re positive Jin, the host and who knows how many other people are watching you now. You open the main doors of the mansion, poking your head out. It’s evening now, the sky has different shades of purple hues.
You drag Chan-Mi outside, down the stone stairs and towards the side of the house. You’re unsure how long you walked with the body until your legs gave out and you collapsed.
You breathe heavily, your mind regaining and you scream out. It echoes off of the trees, the eerily silence of the mansion adding more terror to your situation.
Focus - you tell yourself.
Remember what you’re doing this for.
Your knees tremble as you stand, fixing your hair. A few strands had fallen from your bun as you were cleaning vigorously. Your eyes scan the area, pondering where you were going to put this body.
Your eyes drag towards a pond and even if your moral compass was eating at you, you understand that this was life or death - for you and your sister.
“A better life…” you murmur to yourself, reaching the pond. “...for me. For us.”
You threw Chan-Mi’s body into the pond. It splashes loudly and all you can think is you hope you’re far enough for anyone to notice far too quickly. It isn’t a lake with running water, so the body would move anywhere. However, the the pond is surrounded by rocks and if far enough, the untrained eye would never notice-
“Are you okay?”
Your body stiffens at the words coming from behind you.
Slowly, you turn, eyes catching onto a man a few feet away. He’s strolling towards you. He’s tall and his cheeks are dimpled.
“I-I…” you’re unable to speak. You immediately get up from your knees and begin to walk towards the man. “...I was just going for a walk.” you speak, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I ended up falling and…made a mess of myself.”
The man reaches you and looks at your appearance. He nods his head with a chuckle. “I can see that. I have never seen you around here.”
“You live around here?” you ask. Where did this man come from and just how did he know you were here? Your palms were already sweaty and you didn’t have time to stay and chat. You had about five minutes until you had to be back at the mansion.
“I do. I hike in the woods all the time.” the man nods his head. “I’m Namjoon.” he raises a hand for you to grab.
You do hesitantly, nodding your head. “Y/N.” you murmur. “I have to get back. It’s nice to meet you, Namjoon.” you say. “Enjoy your hike. I hope you aren’t as clumsy as me.” you attempt to joke, making your way around the man before he can say anything else.
You enter the home quickly, slamming the door behind you. Jin is behind it, almost as if he’s waiting for you.
You stop in your tracks, unable to form words.
“You’re right on time.” Jin says. “The first to arrive.”
You’re exhausted, falling to your knees. You hang your head in defeat.
“I’ve watched you, Y/N.”
Your ears perk at Jin’s words. You hear footsteps coming closer to you.
“We all have.”
“What…how many people?”
“Thousands.” Jin chuckles. “Don’t worry. It’s only the dark web.”
Your blood runs cold once more. You don’t want to ask anymore questions, far too afraid to know anymore.
“You’re becoming a favorite, Y/N.” Jin kneels down to face you. He pats your head as if you’re a puppy, encouraging you to look at him. “The way you got rid of the body and managed to get away from Joon.”
“Joon…” you murmur, the dimpled-cheeked man flashing through your mind. “...you know Namjoon….?”
Of course Jin did. There wasn’t any home for miles. How else would you be caught in such a situation ? Maybe that was a part of their plan, to try and get you to confess what was truly going on in hopes that you would look for a way out.
You clench your eyes shut and release a shaky sob.
“You won this round, Y/N. Come,” Jin offers out his hand for you to take. “Let's get you ready for the final round. I hope you didn’t like Anjali as much.” Jin begins to laugh heartily. “You won’t be seeing her for the final challenge.”
You weren’t told by Jin how long you had until the final round. You were in the shower once more, this time sitting on the shower floor and allowing the water to run down your body. Your eyes are closed, and as much as you tried, you cannot get your mind to go blank.
It was a lot for one person to handle in just one single day.
You wished you understood more about Jin and the dark web. You’ve heard about the dark web before and the last thing you ever desired was to be a part of it. It brought chills up your spine to just think about how many eyes are on you and what those eyes are involved in themselves.
You finally got out of the shower once the water began to run cold. You wrap a towel around you, your wet feet strolling towards the large, round mirror inside of the bathroom. Your eyes watch yourself, however not truly seeing yourself. It’s as though you’re witnessing a shell of yourself.
You take a deep breath, squeezing your eyes shut for a moment. You want to laugh bitterly at the unfortunate circumstances that you are dealt with - and just how much of a terrible person you were becoming because of them. Was this real life or a nefarious dream you fell into due to slumber?
There’s a knock that sounds at your bathroom door that causes you to flinch, startled.
You take a few moments to answer, instead choosing to listen quietly, unsure who would be behind the door at such a vulnerable moment you were in now.
“It’s me.”
Jin.
You feel goosebumps liter your arms at his voice. Still, your mind cannot embrace the fact that Kim Seokjin, someone so beautiful as him, is a part of this. Involved with not just this twisted game of survival, but the dark web, as well; which is an iceberg itself.
Your hand wraps around the cold doorknob and you slowly twist it open, cracking it open so you can peek out at the man. He offers a curt grin, his head slightly tilting.
“It’s dawning on you, isn’t it?” Jin questions vaguely. “That this is real life and not some sort of nightmare?”
Your heart jolts and you swallow your words. It’s as if he took the thoughts right out of your mind.
“It’s far too late in wanting to drop out of the competition.” Jin murmurs. “I’m sure you know why.”
You wouldn’t be able to leave here alive - you’re well aware.
Slowly, you nod your head, slightly opening the door a little wider.
“I came to see how you were doing.” Jin takes a few steps back and it’s then you realize that he changed from his attire earlier, to a black suit. “This…can weigh heavy on people such as you.”
“What do you mean people such as me?” you question low. You proceed to open the door fully, your towel tightly around your frame.
Jin begins to stroll away from you and proceeds to take a seat onto your bed. A shame you haven’t truly had the time to lay in it, but he doesn’t wish to extend the games. For months, he had women come in and out - all failing. He wants this game to end tonight, and there’s only two opponents left. He surely hopes either you or Zarish would be the one to end his suffering in having to do this - and he can go home with a wife.
“It’s obvious you aren’t…part of this lifestyle.” Jin looks up at you now, brown eyes giving your undivided attention. “You and Zarish aren’t doing this for love, either.”
“Are you?” you’re bold enough to ask, your right hand holding the top of your towel tightly. “You do this…often?”
Jin snickers. “Unfortunately,” he nods. “no one has won as of yet. This is why it appears the challenges are a bit fast paced.”
You sit in the doorway of the bathroom awkwardly as you await for him to continue speaking.
“Why are you doing this?” Jin questions. “What made you want to come here?”
“I didn’t think I would have to hide a body.” you say truthfully, a bit of sadness in your voice. “I didn’t think I would be fighting for survival, either.”
“I do apologize.” Jin says, yet you don’t hear any sincerity in his words. “It wasn’t my idea of presenting the game as a bachelor type.”
You nod your head. Of course there were others involved, deeper than just Jin and Namjoon.
“What are you fighting for, Y/N?” Jin proceeds to dig deeper. “What do you have to live for?”
Jin’s eyes are intense as he awaits an answer from you. It causes you to look away, goosebumps growing even harder onto your skin. You nearly forgot that you were naked beneath this towel and semi-wet.
“I have a sister.” you say truthfully. There isn’t a point of lying now. This could also be a test to see if you were going to be truthful or not. If Jin had ties to the dark web, who knows what else he’s apart. “And I needed money…”
“I see.” Jin hums. “Everyone has their reasonings.”
“Can I ask yours?”
Jin is intrigued. Zarish wasn’t much of a speaker, yet he couldn’t blame her. Her demeanor is colder than it once was when she arrived, yet he couldn’t bring himself to care. There were two contestants and a final round.
“You…there has to be a reason why you’re doing all of this, right?” you lean against the door frame. “You can’t have a hard time finding a wife.”
Jin’s lips twitch upward.
“Observant.” Jin nods. “I can get a wife anywhere. But…” Jin spreads his legs a bit. “Where’s the fun in that?”
There’s a sinister way in which Seokjin laughs.
“Sure, you didn’t come here for love. That doesn’t mean that you and I couldn’t grow to love one another, right?”
The question strikes you as odd, seeing as this was still a competition.
“If you win, of course.” Jin adds, as if reading your thoughts yet again. “You’re already a fan favorite, but that doesn’t mean anything.”
You exhale.
“Do you want it?”
Your attention is brought back to Jin.
“Do you want a better life?” Jin continues. “Do you want it enough to fight for it? There's only one more round left, Y/N.” Jin prods on, his eyes roaming your face for any emotion. “Show me you want to survive, Y/N.”
You find yourself in front of Jin now, who awaits for you to do something. Anything.
You wanted nothing more than to survive this - not for just your sake, but for your sister. Her life depended on yours, and maybe that was all the will you needed to survive this.
“I do want this.” you murmur, unsure of what you’re now doing kneeling before him as he sits onto your bed. Your right cheek sit lightly against his knee.
“I know.” Jin answers. “I can see it in your eyes. It’s easier to do the things you do if you tell yourself it’s for someone else.”
Maybe being an accomplice to a murder was easier if you told yourself you were doing this for your sister.
You hum.
“Get dressed.” Jin says, a soft hand laying on your left cheek. “The final round will be starting soon. Make yourself presentable.”
You remove your cheek from his knee just as Jin stands to his feet. He looks down upon your vulnerable figure but doesn’t say another word as he saunters out of the room. You watch his figure leave sullenly, a coldness running through you as you felt alone, but knew that you weren’t truly.
“This is crazy, don’t you think?” you murmur to Zarish. “That only one of us can survive this?”
Zarish offers a glance, the soft music playing in the background of the large ballroom. All surrounded by people who are associated with Kim Seokjin himself.
“We…can both survive this.” you say to her, taking a sip of your glass of champagne. You offer a few smiles to guests. “We can both escape before anyone notices us.”
After Jin had left your room, you continued to sit onto the ground by the large bed for what felt like hours until you finally got to your feet to get ready for the next challenge. You weren’t sure what presentable was, but you only had what was in the large closet to choose from. All dresses ranging from long to short.
You grabbed a short dress, stopping at your knees. You opted for this incase you were getting into something that involved you moving a body again - or running for your life. You only had heels to choose from, but you chose a pair that would be easy to get out of if needed be.
You decided to fix your hair to the same bun as before, this time neater and allow a few strands of hair to be released, twirling your finger around it a few times to allow it to curl.
There’s another knock that sounds, this time on your bedroom door. You stand a bit straighter before strolling to the door and opening it.
“It’s time.” the host says, dressed differently. A wine colored floor dress that hugs her curves. On the right side is a slit that rides all the way up to her mid thigh. “You have five minutes to meet everyone downstairs in the main hall.”
“E-Everyone?” you speak up, eyebrows knitting.
“Yes.” the host nods. “The final round is to impress not only Kim Seokjin, but those who associates with. You’re attempting to be a wife, correct?”
You nod, a bit dumbfounded.
“Okay then. Here is your moment.” the host turns to walk away. “Don’t let these people see you be frightened. They’ll eat you up and spit you out if so.”
The host’s footsteps get quieter as she descends down the carpeted hallway. You take a deep breath as you replay her advice - or warning - in your head. You take another deep breath before following her down the hallway.
You can hear faint music along with chattering voices. You suppose this was the final challenge, and maybe the most nerve wracking one of it all. You barely knew Seokjin, so being surrounded by people such as him was just as terrifying.
You decide to follow the music down to the far right of the foyer and down a dim-lit hallway until you reach the large ballroom. It’s surrounded with people - all wearing masquerade-like masks. You felt anxious being surrounded by them, unsure how to truly handle it all.
The ballroom is designed just as elegant and expensive as the rest of the mansion. Its lights are lit dim just as the hallway, but the candles add a bit more flickering light to it all; a sinister type of feeling, however. There’s round tables with white tables clothed all throughout the ballroom, with four chairs each. Only a few people were seated as they chatted amongst each other, while the rest were standing.
There’s flowers, all white, on each table. As well as hanging from the ceiling besides large chandeliers that aren’t shining to their full potential.
“Y/N.”
Your head turns to the sound of your name. A masked figure stands tall besides you, his face fully covered by the gold mask. The candles surrounding the room dance off of his mask.
“I-I…”
The man raises a hand to his mask and lifts it, and instantly you recognize the man just by half of his face, dimples poking out. It’s Namjoon, and he speaks when he takes the mask off fully.
“It’s nice to see you again.”
“You, as well.” you say shyly, glancing around the room. “You…are a part of this?”
Namjoon chuckles with a quick shoulder shrug. “Sure,” he responds. “You managed to be quite a fan favorite.” he says to change the subject.
You scoff to yourself. “Of the dark web?” you question. “I’m not sure how to handle that.”
“No one ever truly does.” Namjoon answers. “You have my vote.”
“Vote?” you ask, just as Namjoon puts his mask back over his face. “All of these people have to vote…?”
Namjoon nods, but doesn’t say anything.
“Thank you.” you murmur.
Namjoon’s vote is just one of hundreds.
“Follow me.” you tell Zarish, your eyes roaming around the large room to find no one you recognized. You find that those with gold masks were the ones who held higher importance. “Let’s get out of here while everyone is distracted.”
You grabbed Zarish’s hand in your own and tugged her along. You managed to get out of the large ballroom and into the quiet hallway. Your heels click along the marble floor, as does hers.
“Where are we going?” Zarish sputtered, her head turning back to the party for a moment before looking ahead at you.
The plan had hit you an hour in. You had met more people, all who spoke to you behind their respected masks. You were polite to them, even engaging in light conversations before you were onto the next; none of them being Jin. You suppose he was watching you from the shadows, awaiting for when the votes would be announced.
Zarish was a beautiful girl, tall with long black hair that she had tucked in a low ponytail. Her dress is floor length and lavender-colored.
You go past the foyer to down the other side of the hall. It’s familiar to you both, where you had gone just hours before to clean the dead bodies of former contestants.
You drop Zarish’s hands when you reach one of the large kitchens. You turn to her. “Grab a weapon.”
“A weapon?” Zarish whispers with wide eyes. “W-Why-”
“How long do you think it’ll be until they realize we’re both gone?” you say, your heels clanking against the tiled floors of the kitchen as you search the drawers for a knife.
Zarish doesn’t say anything, but she’s visibly nervous. She goes to the other side of the large kitchen to find a weapon.
Your reflections glare in one of the large cutting knives. You grasp your hand around the handle and lift it up.
“Why are you here?” you ask Zarish as she opens one drawer. “For money?”
Zarish nods her head, her hands clenching the sides of the drawer.
“My father is sick.” she responds, releasing a soft sop. “If I would’ve known I was coming to this…”
You sympathize with her. You take a few steps closer to her until you’re behind her, your free hand on the short of her back.
“My sister,” you speak, taking a deep breath. “I came for her. To give us both a better life.”
Zarish nods slowly.
“I don’t think any of us knew…” you don’t finish your sentence. Instead, you clench your eyes shut.
“I…I just want to get out of here.”
Zarish’s voice cracks when she speaks. She doesn’t want to cry, especially not now. She sniffles and turns around to face you. “Y/N, I-”
It takes all the will in you to jab the knife right into her stomach. It was nothing personal to her. You held no ill intent towards her, and if there was truly a way out of here, surely you and she would’ve managed.
Maybe in a perfect world there was. You and she ran off into the arms of safety - yet this was reality. There were cameras watching your every move.
Zarish doesn’t put up a fight. Possibly death was easier than fighting her way out of here. The saddened look in her eyes does reach yours, yet she doesn’t say anything in protest.
You remove the knife from her stomach, her hands going to the wound in an attempt to stop the bleeding.
“I’m going to help your father.” you murmur, driving the knife repeatedly back into her stomach several times. Each time is met with a gasp from the woman. “So in a way, you being here isn’t completely a loss.”
You’re completely covered in blood by the time you’re done, Zarish’s lifeless body on the pristine floors. Her blood soaks into your dress. You drop the knife and it clunks loudly on impact.
You make your way out of the kitchen and down the familiar hall towards the foyer and back to the ballroom. It’s as if no one has truly noticed you and Zarish are gone.
You stop at the doorway of the ballroom, the blood staining your hands. Your eyes search for Jin and you’re sure you found him. His mask is the only mask that stands out, a silver color. It appears as if he’s watching you from the eyeholes of the mask.
You walk towards him, your mind focusing on him and only him. The people appear to be quiet now as you walk past them, allowing you to stroll without a problem.
You stop just a few short feet away from Jin, panting heavily now.
“You told me,” you begin, your eyes never wavering. “that if i wanted to win…if I wanted a better life…” you swallow. “...I’d have to show you.”
Jin’s right hand reaches up towards the silver mask. Slowly, he lifts it from his face. His expression is an emotionless one, but it’s easier to speak with him now that you can see his eyes.
“What did you do?” Jin questions, though he’s positive he has an idea.
“I killed her.” you respond. “She…”
Your thoughts speak at you all at once. You tilt your head a bit.
“She was going to run away.” you mumble. “She…told me to go with her. I did.” you admit half of the truth, because did it truly matter now? “...then I killed her. There isn’t a way out of here, right?” you ask Jin. “We would have both been dead. I didn’t want to die. I wanted to win.”
Jin’s dark eyes watch you from where he stands. Slowly, your sanity was dripping away and in such a short amount of time.
Rosy plump lips grin towards you and that alone causes your heart to leap.
“Come,” Jin announces, his hand waving you over.
Widening your eyes, you do as you’re told. You round the large table and come besides Jin, behind him a few bodies you were not aware of, all dawning gold masks.
Jin goes into his pocket and grasps a small, square box. “Congratulations, Y/N.” Jin speaks, opening the box to reveal a ring inside of it. It’s quite different from a ring you’d expect as a wedding ring, yet this whole situation alone was. It has a gold band that surrounds itself with diamonds while an oval emerald diamond sits right in the middle of it, smaller silver diamonds outlining the oval shape.
“We have no time to waste.” Jin removes the ring from the box and holds it up. “Give me your hand.”
You watch in slight awe as Jin slides the ring onto your finger. It’s a surreal feeling in knowing that you won this twisted game he has forced you into. A game that lasted only a few hours, but felt like weeks on end.
There’s clapping that sounds throughout the ballroom and for a moment, you nearly forgot that it wasn’t just you and Jin in the room.
A man with a gold mask comes forward, papers in hand. It wasn’t Namjoon, you note, as the man wasn’t as tall.
“Come,” Jin wraps a hand around your waist. “let’s sign these documents.”
Jin doesn’t waste any time in handing you your own pen to sign a few documents that he doesn’t allow you to read. All of your signatures were right besides his, already pre-signed.
You aren’t nervous about signing your life away. Afterall, it isn’t everyday that you go through such trials and tribulations to assure you live long enough to see yourself be married.
That, and murder someone for the first time. Maybe tomorrow when your reality dawns on you would you actually break down. As of now, your mind remains blank and you’re working on autopilot.
There’s a hand that catches you out of your thoughts. It’s holding a clear champagne glass full of slightly bubbling liquid.
You grasp the glass from one of the men sporting a gold mask. He holds another one out for Jin who also takes it. Jin holds his glass up for you to clank against his in a toast.
“To Y/N and I,” Jin announces, his dark eyes reaching yours. “to death do us part.” he says, a more sinister meaning behind the words.
There’s more cheering as you lift the champagne to your lips and sip, as does Jin. His eyes never leave you. He finds that even if you’re possibly in shock now, the reality not fully sinking in yet and covered in blood, he finds you beautiful.
Maybe it’s also because in a short amount of time, you’ve managed to succumb to a bit of madness, realizing that if you wanted to survive all of this meant that you had to do what you possibly didn’t want to.
“A lot to handle in just one day?” Jin murmurs your way, leaning down a bit. There’s chattering throughout the entirety of the ballroom.
“Yeah.” you nod your head in agreement. “I…became a killer?” you’re unsure how else to put it.
Jin chuckles at your cuteness. “In a way,” he responds. “the best has yet to come.”
You aren’t sure exactly what he meant, but you were going to find out.
Your body warms in a matter of minutes and slowly, you begin to relax. You were already eerily calm as if you hadn’t murdered an innocent woman. Yet, you felt even calmer - was that possible?
It was as if your body was shooting serotonin boosts throughout you and you were becoming relaxed.
Happy even.
“You,”
Seokjin’s voice sounded so close to you as you down the rest of the champagne. Your throat was throbbing for more, thirst growing throughout you.
“are in for a long ride.” Seokjin finishes as he places a hand on the low of your back. Dangerously low that it shooks electricity right up your spine.
“Am I?” you question, turning a bit to look at him. His lips are curled slightly and beady eyes are already watching you.
“Indeed you are.” Seokjin murmurs. He takes a curt sip of his bubbling champagne before he presses the glass to your lips. You open your mouth to drink the remaining of it, your eyes unblinking from Seokjin’ - almost as if in a trance.
“There’s things people like us do.” Seokjin’s fingers tap along your back. “The elites.”
“Elites?”
Seokjin begins to stroll and he keeps you close to him. The room is crowded as it has been for a while, yet you remain close to Seokjin as if it was just the two of you. The room is loud with chattering voices that you cannot make out in any conversation, but even then you only hear Seokjin as he speaks.
“Powerful people like me.”
Jin steers you towards a tall door that opens upon arrival by another masked figure who waits right beside it. The masked man bows to Jin and you as the two of you stroll through the door and down the long, carpeted hallway.
“These…parties?” you question. You rock your head side to side a bit, your hand coming up to wipe your forehead of a light trail of sweat. “Is everyone here elites?”
Jin nods his head. “Everyone once in a while, we all come together.” he murmurs. For an odd reason, the carpeted hallway appears entirely too long. At the end of said hallway is a pair of double doors that match the ones you and he walked through. “It’s like a secret society.”
“Secret society…” you trail off. You blink a few times when you and Jin reach the end of the hallway, your mind thinking a million questions at once. “...what do you guys do…?”
You got your answer quicker than you realized. The door is opened by Jin and he pushes you in gently. Your eyes trail over the large room. The carpet is the same crimson red as the hallway, though this time there’s gold patterns. The tall walls appear to be stone and now you realize just how enclosed this room is.
Moans and squeals fill the room, naked bodies all over the place. You and Jin’s entrance goes unnoticed by the sea of people engaging in sexual activity. Right in the middle of the large room are a group of women engaging in oral sex, their manicured hands roaming one anothers naked bodies.
Jin notices the way you push yourself closer to him and his arm around you holds you a bit tighter. He leans down a bit to murmur to you.
“Sometimes we come together and have a little fun.” Jin responds.
Within the sea of naked bodies, there’s still a few - men - that are covered. You noticed the gold masks that are similar to the ones Jin and Namjoon wore. Fully clothed and lingering in the area.
In the corner of the room, there’s a group of people fucking. A few naked bystanders watch, one woman's head on another's shoulders as if they were watching their favorite show. Your eyes watch the way the man fucks the woman with such earnest and need.
As if they were the only two in the room.
“Takes a lot to get used to this world.” Jin’s voice sends shivers down your spine and it knocks you back into reality. “You are an elite now.”
You swallow, eyes slowly widening at the words before you shake your head a bit. You bite your lip as you continue to survey the area. Were all these people elites? Is this what the ultra wealthy did? Partake in sex parties?
It shouldn’t catch you by surprise. You recall Namjoon’s words from earlier on how he voted for you. This was another part of the world of the elite. A game. After watching you all engage in a sick game of survival, they come here and fuck one another brains out.
You take a deep breath. There wasn’t any turning back now. Your dress is still covered in Zarish’s blood, staining the expensive material. Your mind is swirling and your core is telling you that possibly you drank more than just champagne.
“You look tense, Y/N.” Jin rubs your back softly. “You should unwind.”
“Unwind…how?” you question low. You could guess how. The sea of people all surrounding you two, all engaging in different sexual positions. “Jin?”
“Hm?” Jin hums. His long fingers appear to tap along your back as he awaits for you to answer him.
“Zarish,” you begin, swallowing a bit. Your mind was swirling and you didn’t want to forget what you had promised her prior to what you’ve done. “I…I promised her…”
Jin blinks, perfect eyelashes fluttering. “That you’d help her sick father?”
You knit your brows.
“I know everything about all my contestants.” Jin continues with a curt nod of his head. “You remain so noble, Y/N. My wife.” Jin’s fingers dance up your spine until they stop at the nape of your neck. “Whatever you set out to do, I will allow it. For now, let’s enjoy ourselves.”
Your head turns just in time to catch the figure that struts towards you. The gold mask comes to your line of vision and all you can think of was Jin and Namjoon. You do not move, even when the masked man stops directly in front of you and offers a bit of a head tilt. You cannot see his eyes and the eye holes of the golden mask appear like an endless dark hole.
“Y/N this is-”
“Jimin.”
The masked man speaks, his voice muffled a bit behind the golden mask. His hand lifts up to remove the mask, an act that appears taboo in a place such as this, but possibly he does it as an act of familiarity.
The man that comes from behind the golden mask has the same level of beauty as Jin and Namjoon, a pair of dark eyes staring back at you and a low grin that shows ulterior motives.
Jimin…
The man’s pearly white smile captivates you for a second too long that when he holds his hand out for you to take, you’re standing a bit dumbfounded.
“It’s nice to get the chance to meet you, Y/N.” Jimin’s voice sounds like honey - sweet and sugary. “My name is Jimin. Park,” Jimin, once you place your hand in his surprisingly soft and calloused-free ones, lifts it to his mouth. They’re a bit glossy, you note. “Jimin.” he says after he pecks your hand.
Your head slowly turns to Jin who’s already watching. He doesn’t say anything about Jimin’s actions and instead takes a step back, as if to allow you to do as you pleased.
“It’s nice to meet you, too.” you murmur meekly. Your thighs pressed together firmly, the surrounding moans mixed with skin slapping was too much. How could they ignore the sex surrounding them?
They were elites, your mind tells you. They do this often.
“Enjoying yourself?”
Jimin allows your hand to drop, but he doesn’t step away.
“Yes…?” you glance around a bit. One girl is on her knees not too far away. Her mouth was occupied and so were her hands.
“Is that a question?” Jimin chuckles. He turns his head behind him to follow your gaze. “This must be a lot for you.”
All you can feel is your body burning up. You release a short huff. The room was stuffy and even this dress was feeling a bit too tight.
“I have never been a part of…”
“An Orgy.” Jimin chuckles, his laughter just as sweet as his voice that it causes you to melt a bit.
You proceed to glance towards Jin again. Just what was he doing standing and watching you for?
“Would you like to?”
Jin doesn’t answer for you, not even when your eyes meet his for any form of guidance.
You’re sure you don’t have a choice, you think. You were brought here for a reason. The blood on your dress was the reminder of the choice you made. The papers you’ve signed and the ring Jin put on your finger.
Slowly, you nod your head.
You wanted this, you told yourself.
You’ve killed for this.
“Champagne?”
There’s another voice this time. It’s as though you were hypnotized by Jimin that you had not realized another golden masked man stopped directly beside you. He holds out a single glass of bubbling champagne for you to take. You do, placing the glass against your lips and proceeding to downing the drink. You lick your lips as the masked man takes it from you.
“Turn around.”
That’s Jimin talking. You do, your heels falling silent against the carpeted floor. You’re now facing Jin. He’s leaning against the stone wall, his eyes never leaving yours.
Jimin’s hands are on your back and you could feel it loosening. He begins to unzip the dress slowly, bringing up anticipation. Your head tilts a bit, your breathing increasing.
“Not participating today?”
Jimin isn’t speaking with you. The masked man who brought you the champagne responds.
“Maybe later. I just want to watch for now.”
Your dress falls to your ankles. You don’t feel cold, even when the goosebumps erupt through your bare skin. Your body grows even hotter, especially with how close the unknown masked man and Jimin were to you.
“Congratulations on your engagement Y/N.” Jimin murmurs from behind you.
“And to Jin-hyung.”
Jin’s eyes blink away to look at the two men behind you. He offers a curt nod to them.
There’s hands onto your body now and a pair of lips on your neck. They move entirely too fast for you to process. Your eyes flutter and it’s becoming difficult to keep your eyes on Jin.
“It’s been a while since we’ve sampled something new.”
You catch a glimpse of it from the corner of your eyes. The gold mask that falls to the floor.
Jimin’s index finger hooks beneath your chin and pulls your face his way. His lips are centimeters away from you and before he could place his lips upon yours, you pull your face away.
Was this what Jin meant? Was he going to sit and watch you the entire time?
Jin’s eyes connect with yours for a moment and he only nods his head. His arms are crossed over his chest now.
Gradually, you begin to turn your head back towards Jimin. He hadn’t moved from his position and once he realized you were willing now, he placed his lips upon yours. They’re soft and have a faint taste of strawberries.
There’s a pair of large hands that grip at your skin as your lips dances with Jimin’s. Your body radiates more heat as if you’re a furnace and you cannot help the choked moan that dies down in your throat. Maybe it was because you knew Jin was watching you the entire time. Maybe it was because you’re just another body in a sea of people all doing the same.
Jimin releases your lips, but that doesn’t mean you are done. Your face is yanked to the left and you finally come face to face with the other man. He’s just as beautiful as Jimin and the rest of them. His eyes are dark and his lips are thin as the kiss along your jaw. The unknown man was rougher than Jimin, his large hand cupping your neck to pull you closer to him.
“Taehyung.” the man says, his voice deep and raspy that you clench around nothing upon hearing it. As if reading your mind, he introduces himself before his own lips are on yours. He forces your mouth open, his tongue exploring your mouth.
“Champagne, sir?”
Jin turns his eyes to the naked woman with a tray of champagne. She doesn’t look directly in his eyes as she awaits for him to dismiss her or take the champagne offered. He does, long fingers hooking around the glass and he nods his head to dismiss her. She strolls away, naked body swaying into the sea of people.
Jin brings the bubbling liquid to his lips, eyes darting back to you. You were a mess already, Taehyung and Jimin not being known to waste any time. You were already out of your bra and it lay discarded on the ground. Taehyung has a mouth full of your left nipple, large hands aggressively gripping and tugging on your breast as he suckles.
Jimin’s hand find their way between your legs that he shoves apart. He doesn't bother to tear your panties off just yet, his fingers working your clit as his tongue twirls over your right nipple.
Your moans do not go unnoticed by Jin, even in a room full of squeals, slapping skin and aggressive moaning. They’re like honey - sweet and curt and entirely new to his ears. He licks his lips, taking another sip of champagne.
It’s entirely too fast for you to process, you think. The way Taehyung was rough and dominant while Jimin was the exact opposite. He was more teasing, his fingers rubbing circles on your clit while his tongue flickers your nipple dangerously slow.
You don’t attempt to contact your moans and even your body begins to feel heavy. You’re leaning entirely onto Jimin, but the man doesn’t appear to be bothered by it.
“S-Slow down-”
Taehyung’s teeth graze your nipple as he pops it from his mouth. His eyes look upwards at you and he grunts. “No.” he says. “We’re preparing you for hyung.”
You gasp when Jimin’s finger skims across your hole, teasing you even more. He chuckles a bit, a cool laugh because he knows just how much you want his fingers in you.
“Get you nice and ready to be fucked.” Jimin sing-songs, his contrast compared to Taehyung a true eye opener.
“Table.” Taehyung says, and before you have the chance to process, you feel yourself being lifted off your feet.
You yelp when your back slams against something cold and hard. Your eyes dance around the large table, already occupied with people, yet you were the center of it. To your right were women who were being watched by other masked men - not golden masks - as they performed several sex acts.
“Take these off.” Taehyung tugs at your panties, snatching them away from your wet core and down your legs. He doesn’t bother to toss them anywhere near you and instead discards them behind his shoulders. “Let’s see how wet you are, huh?”
“Pretty wet.” Jimin says from beside Taehyung, placing a few of his fingers in his mouth and sucks them.
Taehyung’s hand slaps against your inner thighs once he shoves them apart. You squeal, the action causing a jolt of pleasure right through you.
“We’ll make you even wetter.”
It’s Taehyung that acts first, long fingers inching inside of you. Your back arches when he begins to pound them inside of you so roughly that you barely have time to react. Beside him Jimin holds your right leg while Taehyung your left, both eyes trained on the way your pussy clenches around his fingers.
Jin emerges right behind you on the table, another glass of champagne in his hand. He looks down at your face - fucked out expression with fluttering eyes and flushed skin. There’s a bit of drool in the corner of your mouth that trails down your jaw.
“You must want a cock in you, Y/N. You’re milking all over Tae’s palm!” Jimin chuckles, squeezing your thigh.
“No fair!”
Jin knows the voice of his dongsaeng. The whiny familiar voice of Jeon Jungkook as he appears, mask dangling from his shoulders.
“You didn’t wait for me!”
Taehyung’s pump slows a bit as he turns to the younger man with a roll of his eyes. He releases a sigh. “You were late.”
“I was busy.”
Jungkook meets your glossy gaze and he grins.
“Y/N,” Jungkook leans closer to you. “I’ve voted for you since the beginning.”
“You’re ruining the moment, Kook. Do something or go.” Jimin hisses, with a soft glare.
“I plan to.” Jungkook pushes Taehyung away. “You’re doing nothing but teasing her. I’ll be making her cum.”
The three of them together always caused competition - Jungkook being the most competitive of the trio. Jin doesn’t say anything and he’s a bit amused when you sigh meekly.
Jungkook takes Taehyung’s place between your legs, forcing your right leg into place so you cannot move away from him. He offers you a short wink before lowering himself to your clit.
Your thighs jolt to close, but with Jimin and Jungkook, they don’t. Jungkook’s tongue is warm and it licks between your folds rather aggressively.
Taehyung isn’t amused by being taken over by Jungkook, but he isn’t going to fight him. Not now, at least. Instead, he places his fingers inside your gasping mouth.
Tasting your arousal was something you’d never thought you do - yet, neither was being an “elite” and partaking in…orgies? Especially while your soon to be husband watched above you.
However, it all appears to be a dream. You aren’t bothered being completely naked by three unknown men you all met today while one eats you out as if he has something to prove.
Your eyes roll as there’s another set of fingers pumping inside of you now all the while Jungkook’s warm tongue continues to suckle onto your clit. Your chest heaves as it was all too much now. You’re unsure who’s hand is gripping at your breast, their thumb flicking your nipple, but you’re sure it’s Jimin.
Jin can feel his cock twitching from his suit pants. He drops the empty glass onto the table and leans closer to you, cloudy eyes on the way your breast bounces as your hips jerk against Jungkook’s tongue, pussy squeezing around his fingers.
“She’s so fucked out.” Taehyung chuckles, removing his fingers from your mouth so he trails them down towards your breast.
“I think she’s about to cum.” sing-song Jimin.
“Are you ready for her, hyung?” asks Taehyung.
“I didn’t make her cum yet.” Jungkook groans, fingers pumping inside of you. Your juices coat his palm and he’s entirely enthralled by how sopping wet you are.
“We’re just warming her up.”
Jungkook groans. There’s nothing more he hates than to leave a woman in such a manner. He removes his fingers and sighs with a shake of his head. “Maybe next time.” he says with a cute pout. It’s then you notice the piercing on his lip. “Hyung.”
You lay flat against the table now, chest heaving. Your thighs quiver and you can barely keep your eyes open now. Your high was slowly coming down, but even then did you feel the electricity through your veins.
“Time to consummate the marriage!”
Jimin’s voice dances through your ears.
“Y/N,”
You open your eyes to see Jin right in front of you. His head is tilted and he appears to wait for you to be fully coherent before he speaks again.
“Welcome to the elites.” Jin says, taking a step closer between your legs.
You exhaled a shaky breath, unanswering.
Taehyung, Jimin and Jungkook stand around, their own glasses of champagne in their hand and they down them one by one.
Your low eyes watch as Jin begins to loosen his belt from around his waist.
“Enjoy your night tonight, boys.” Jimin says, lifting his third glass of champagne. His eyes turn from Jungkook to Taehyung. “There’s a long work week ahead of us.”
They carry on their own conversation that goes on deaf ears when Jin places both hands onto your waist and pulls you closer towards him.
“You aren’t going to remember this tomorrow.” Jin murmurs. “You’ve had a lot to drink.”
“I’ll manage.” you murmur back, a hand reaching out to grab at his suit. “Please fuck me.”
Jin chuckles at your filthy words but he was going to do exactly what you asked.
“I have a million on one match in Paris.” Taehyung says. “I have to leave tomorrow morning.”
Jin’s cock is leaking pre-cum when he releases it from his underwear, his suit pants dropping by his ankles.
“Your pussy is pretty.” Jin comments. “I’m glad you won the game, Y/N. You fit into this world greatly.”
Jin enters you without much warning, but your pussy is so wet that it isn’t a problem. The stretch is good, a low groan deep in your throat.
Jin begins to pound into you, his aggressive thrusts only adding to the other around the large room. His eyes watch the way your breast bounces beneath him. He hooks your legs around his waist for a deeper entrance.
Witnessing the way you submit fully to him and allowing yourself to be pleasured by his dongsaengs caused a deep desire to grow within him. In all ways but one, you were the one he needed. The endless games he partaken in to assure he found the perfect wife had led him to you.
Your pussy grips Jin’s cock with such need. It’s as if it’s been waiting for him this entire time like a missing puzzle piece. He never wants to stop, he thinks. You’re beautiful underneath the dim lights of the room, eyes dark and clouded with temptation, lust and intoxication.
“You’re gonna cum before I do.” Jin grumbles, his fingernails digging into the skin of your hips. He snaps his hips roughly, the table long moving erratically beneath the two of you. “Go ahead and let go, Y/N.”
You’re flipped, your front slammed against the cold table.You come face to face with Jungkook, who’s eyes sparkle a bit, but you don’t have the time to talk. Jin enters you once more, pounding so deep inside of you. Your hands reach out to hold anything on the table and find nothing - until Jimin takes your hand and allows you to squeeze.
“I have to go to Japan.” Jimin says, his thumb rubbing the top of your hand encouragingly as his hyung fucks you without a care in the world. “Meeting with politicians.”
“Ugh, boring.” Jungkook leans back, arms behind his head as he listens to Jimin speak.
“F-Fuck.” you shake your head, stomach churning with the familiar feeling from early - the one you lost when Jungkook was forced away from you.
“Let go,Y/N. Cum all over me.” Jin says darkly, his fingernails were going to leave bruises on your skin when he was done with you.
Your ass slams against his abdomen, his pounds growing harder and harder by the second.
“To the newlyweds.” Taehyung raises yet another glass of champagne, his words slurred a bit.
You’re seeing white this time, juices pooling out and down your thighs. You squeeze Jimin’s hand in your own, a spew of curse words leaving your lips.
Jin isn’t done - not yet. He continues fucking into you while you squirm underneath him. It was all too much to handle, the overstimulation beginning to hurt a bit. However, the pain felt good and even you found that you were going to cum once more.
“I’m going to take you to our home and fuck you even more.” Jin’s sloppy thrust indicates that he was just as wrecked as you were. A hand takes your hair and forces you back so he can place his plump lips besides your ear. “Y/N…my wife…” Jin groans, milky seeds erupting inside of you so deep. It’s just as hot as you feel, filling you to the brim entirely.
You drop back onto the table with an exhausted huff, eyes fluttering close. Jin remains inside of you, his cum pooling out and filling you up at both a rabid and slow pace. Sweat pools the corner of your forehead and you are about done with the night.
“To the newlyweds.” Jungkook claps his hands together. “I can’t wait for the wedding.”
“To think it took this long for you to find the perfect one.” Jimin states. You are asleep now. Still naked and on top of the table, weariness taking over your body completely. “One manipulative little bitch she is for tricking that girl. I like her.”
Jin agrees. He pulls his pants up and tightens his belt just as before. “Whatever it takes to win.” he says, placing a hand onto your head and rubbing a bit. “She’ll fit right in.”
HOLAGE |
Synopsis: a tale of a very yendere jungkook
Warnings: mentions of blood, tying up, mentions of cuts, a blade, wound. Reader is kinda babyfied. Possessive jk. [Let me know if I Let something out]
Jk x fem reader.
#Maybe there's a dead dove that you don't wanna eat.
18+. Minors dni
"Now you see if didn't try to run away i wouldn't have to do this"
The man behind you scrubbing your body with a cloth says. His tone very light diminishing all dominance you thought you had.
The warm water falls on your skin lightly but with the way your heart is racing each drop feels like a slap on the skin. You'd think warm water would make you feel relaxed but it doesn't.
And the fact that jungkook has you sandwiched between his naked wet body and the shower wall doesn't help. He doesn't do anything suggestive he only repeatedly rubs the foam drenched cloth around your body, making sure to get off the dried blood on you. Not your own blood but of the man who tried to help you by giving you a lift.
Jungkook never understood why people wanted to take you from him. Well he kinda knew why. You were perfect, the immaculate depiction of the woman in his heart and fantasies. He's dreamt and thought of you everyday, there's no time when you aren't on his mind. And he believed people knew that that's why they'd try to take you from him, but he'll never let that happen. Never in his fully woken self, even in his sleep he can find you.
You can hear his breaths become heavier as he runs the cloth against your breasts then your nipples and runs it down your stomach. He's movements are slow and gentle, if it weren't for your racing heart and the situation you'd be aroused. Jungkook never really pushed the idea of sleeping with you though you could see him here and there struggling with his own body for control. You knew he thought about you that way, you could tell. Especially when you'd see his bulge peaking from his sweat pants as he tucked you into bed after your shower.
Today was no different you could see his bulge through his dark pants as the water rinses your body. He always kept his trousers on when he helped you shower even though you're sure it was uncomfortable for him, you guess it's for self control. You're glad though.
"Why do you always run away like I'm a bad person." He says your bodies facing each other as he dries your hair with a towel. You stand still like a mannequin, not knowing what to do in this situation.
"Do you think I'm a bad person?" His eyes are bright and large as he looks down at you and you up at him. You look away trying to avoid his delicate and innocent gaze. It's a facade and you know it, this man was far from delicate and innocent. Even though sometimes he can act to be, you knew better than to fall for it.
He uses his thump and index finger to trap your chin and pull your attention to him.
"Do you think I'm a bad person baby" he asks expecting an answer and his eyes demand one too. You know he doesn't like being ignored. You're already on his bad side for trying to run away, so it'd be best if you just played along.
You shake your head giving him your answer but by the look on his face he's not satisfied by your answer.
"N-no I don't think you're a bad person" you say timidly. He liked it when you were timid.
"I'm glad that you think that" he says brushing your hair.
"But why do you always act like im a bad person." he brushes
"Why do you run away huh?" He brushes a little harder and you can feel and hear him get angry.
"When all I do is take care of you and give you all you want" he brushes harder again and you want to do something cause he might end up ripping your hair from your scalp, wouldn't be the first time removing your hair. One time when you tried to ran away he cut your hair to teach you a lesson. It's been a year since then and your hair has grown from the short length.
His eyes focus on the brush as he continues to list the things he's done for you and all you think about is a way to cool his brewing anger.
Validation.
"I know and appreciate what you do for me" you place your hand on his chest as you spill lies from your mouth.
"Your actually the reason why I'm still alive" though jungkook can tell when you're playing with him he decides not to acknowledge it.
"Then why do you ran away"
"I'm just silly jungkook. You know that. Sometimes I do things without thinking" you look in his eyes and he must be buying it.
"I just wanna go out sometimes. You know" You say playing with the locks of his hair.
"You know I wanna take you outside." He runs his hand in your hair.
"But you're such a bad girl that I can't do that" he says as you feel his demeanour shift, not longer gentle and delicate.
"And you know what happens next"
"I'm sorry babe" you try to use a pet name to soothe him but it doesn't work. You know what he means and tears fill your eyes as you think of it.
"I'm really sorry" you whine tears falling from your eyes as you try to plead your case.
"Its too late for sorrys now" his eyes glare at you and you can feel the darkness and cold pool from them and his aura.
Your heart begins to pound against your chest, you're afraid your chest might rip open. Jungkook begins to pull you to your bedroom and you try to stop him from taking you there, little 'I'm sorrys' leave your mouth that's now collecting your tears. But he doesn't listen he continues to drag you to your room.
"No dinner for you today" he says coldly, eyes on the ground he's dragging you on. You'd even forgotten how hungry you were because of the fear you were feeling.
Even though it was your room, it wasn't good when jungkook took you there. He'd always let you sleep in his room on his white and comfy bed. He'd always let you sleep there. The only time he took you to your own room to sleep was to punish you. The room itself isn't bad but it's not as good as jungkook's.
The thoughts of what he's gonna do to you and has done to you in this room make your weeping louder. Jungkook never liked seeing you cry, well sometimes, but he had to do what needs to be done to teach you the lesson you never seem to learn.
"Jungkook I'm sorry... I'll listen this time" you yell, mucous now filling your throat. You gag feeling like you wanna puke.
"I-i-i pr-promise I'll listen this time please, I'm sorry I'll never do it again" you plead but it's like he can't hear. He actually can and it hurts him but those feelings are pushed aside. He needs you to be a good girl and if this is the only way so be it.
He steps back and stretches after tying your hands behind your back. He didn't gag you cause he wants to hear your screams and pleads. Your legs are untied and he knew you knew better than to kick him or struggle.
"Why do you have to be so bad" he says hovering over your shaking body. You were sweating from fear, your entire body moist. He stares at the little 'hello kitty' panties you're wearing. He knew you'd look great in them when he bought them.
He chuckles.
Turning around to go to the little drawer you'd never liked to see him approach. You hear the drawer open and the clanking of metals together and your wailing grows louder.
"Jungkook please"
"The audacity you have to even call me by my name" you hear him scoff as the drawer is closed and he approaches you.
You almost lose your breath when you see the blade in his hands. It's become so familiar to you, you know every pattern and design on it by heart and mind. He'd always do this when you misbehaved but especially when you tried to ran away.
You shake intensely when he squats in front of you and spreads your thighs revealing the other 3 wounds you got when you tried to ran away.
"D-da-" You want to say it but its so hard. Maybe if he hears you call him that he'll take it easy on you.
"Oh look at these" he says tracing his fingertips over the 3 soon to be 4 scars on your thighs, when he does this the pain you felt from them resurfaces. You can hear him laugh at the memory.
"Daddy please I'm sorry" you finally say it bit it doesn't change his mind. He simply sighs at the name, he loved when you called him that but you only did when you were in this kind of situation trying to escape his wrath.
"I'll never ran away again" you've said that many times, "I mean it this time" and that too.
"Daddy plea-"
"Why don't you ever just want to be a good girl...my good girl" he seems low his voice not so aggressive, but it still makes you scared.
"I'll be a good girl, I promise" you continue to plead trying to lift yourself up and find his eyes.
"Shut up" he yells shutting you up. But you can't shut your sobs up.
"I don't like doing this you know." He spreads your legs wider and he tries his best to not stare at your core.
"All I want is for you to be a good girl..." he says gliding the blade against your skin and you continue to cry.
"...my good girl..." he pokes the blade againt your skin as your skin tears.
"...a good girl...for me" he finishes saying as the blades begins to drag against your skin, lining the mark with the others. Its like he's counting tallies. Immediately a line of blood follows. You scream and he smiles as he watches the liquid follow the blade.
"You just don't like to listen huh?" He says finally stopping his movements.
"I just want you to know I'll never stop until you learn... I'm never giving up on you Y/N"
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