Sorrowful Love | Ch#4 | JJK

Sorrowful Love | Ch#4 | JJK

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; All he desires is vengeance.

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: thriller, angst, love at first sight, au! sexting

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x Sena oc!

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: This story contains explicit language, graphic violence(murders, blood etc), and other mature content, If you are easily affected by such themes, it might be best to avoid reading it.

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.8k+

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭⇢

Jungkook's Pov:

After my encounter with that weird girl, the first thought that crossed my mind was, 'What a strange girl!'. Despite my efforts to suppress it, a smile involuntarily crept onto my lips. It was as if her eccentricity had a contagious effect on me, leaving me both bewildered and amused.

'Fuck'

Women don't usually bewilder me, and I'm not easily amused by girly things or their peculiar behaviors. However, against all odds, she managed to bring a small smile to my face. I can't believe how?

Later on, I decided to buy Geworin tablets, for myself. As I paid for the medication and walked out of the pharmacy, I just hoped that this medication would provide some relief, a glimmer of hope to lift my spirits.

After buying medicine, I make my way back home through the familiar streets. I unlock the door, step inside, and head straight to the kitchen to fetch a water bottle. With the pill in hand and a glass of water, I swallow it down and feel a sense of relief washing over me.

Feeling slightly better, I make my way to the art gallery, constructed in the basement. Bending down, I retrieve the hidden key from beneath the carpet and walk over to a large canvas. With a bit of effort, I lift the canvas and set it aside, revealing a hidden door. Inserting the key into the lock, I hear the satisfying click as it opens. I then tuck the key back into the right pocket of my pants and swing the door open.

As I step into the room, my eyes immediately gravitate towards the images that I've meticulously taped on the wall. These images represent the people who have caused me immense pain and anger. With a mix of hate and disdain, I take a moment to glance at each one, feeling a surge of emotions coursing through my veins. It's as if the mere sight of these individuals ignites a fire within me, causing my blood to boil and wanting me to end these people's lives right now.

With a sense of determination, I reach for a file sitting on the table nearby.

However, before I can even open the file, the familiar ring of my phone interrupts the moment. I place the file back on the table and smoothly retrieve my phone from the right pocket of my pants. Glancing at the caller ID, I see an unfamiliar number flashing on the screen.

Considering the limited number of contacts I have saved in my phone, I deduce that this call must be related to an order I've been expecting. I answer the call, And a soft voice greets me on the other end, belonging to a girl who seems eager to speak.

"Ah, hello," she says, her voice carrying a sense of excitement. "I'd like to order a painting."

Intrigued by her request, I find myself momentarily forgetting about the images on the wall and the file on the table. Instead, I focus my attention on this individual on the other side of the phone.

I asked the girl on the phone, "Can you share with me your emotions?"

In response, she started to speak rapidly, expressing, "I am overwhelmed with emotions at the moment, and I find it hard to put them into words. I am also curious about understanding my emotions, which is why I am interested in this artwork. I am eager to explore the range of emotions I am experiencing. Let me begin to describe them to you. Please make a note of them, okay? I am feeling a mix of despair, happiness, and fear right now. I crave love in my life, yet there are moments when I feel like I can do without it. I am puzzled by my own emotions. Just capture all of this," she paused, taking a deep breath.

I couldn't help but chuckle as I jotted down her array of emotions.

"I will do my best. I will let you know once it's done," I assured her.

"Oh my goodness, thank you so much! I am beyond grateful. I don't know how to repay you. Oh, I almost forgot to ask, how much will this painting cost?"She immediately exclaimed, and her words made me giggle for some reason.

"Why are you laughing?" she inquired with a soft voice. "Is the cost really that high that it's beyond my means?"

Responding to her concerns, I offered reassurance, "No, it's not as expensive as you think. Depending on how you feel, the price ranges around xxx ."

Relieved by my response, she let out a sigh and said, "Thank goodness, I can afford it."

"By the way, could you please share your name with me so I can recognize you when you come for the painting?" I asked.

After a brief pause, she ended the call with a contemplative "hmm." Meanwhile, I found myself simply staring at the screen of my phone, unsure of what to do next. Suddenly, a message from her appeared on the screen, breaking the silence.

Curiosity piqued, I eagerly opened the message and read the words,

"'Natasha' is my name."

Reading those four words repeatedly, I sensed that she had given me a false name. Her peculiar actions brought a chuckle to my lips as I securely tucked my phone back into the left pocket of my pants.

5:30pm

I decided to take a leisurely stroll through the nearby neighborhood park. As I step outside, I inhale deeply, allowing the fresh evening air to fill my lungs. The park is bathed in a soft golden glow as the sun begins its descent, casting long shadows across the grass.

I start my walk, my footsteps echoing softly on the pavement. As I make my way through the park, I take in the sights and sounds around me. The chirping of birds, the rustling of leaves in the gentle breeze, and the distant laughter of children playing in the playground.

As I continue my stroll, my gaze sweeps across the park, taking in the various scenes unfolding before me. And then, something catches my eye. A young child, full of energy and excitement, dashing towards his parents. His tiny legs carry him swiftly, his face beaming with joy.

I watch as his mother, with open arms, scoops him up into a warm embrace, showering him with kisses. His father, standing nearby, can't help but pinch his cheeks affectionately.

Unbeknownst to me, a single tear escapes my eye, rolling down my cheek. I quickly turn my head, hoping no one notices, and take a few deep breaths to compose myself. And decide it's time to head back home.

After arriving home, I made my way to the room that I had meticulously designed to resemble the gallery. As I entered, I couldn't help but notice that my heartbeat was racing at an alarming rate. The mere thought of them sent shivers down my spine, making me want to let out a scream. I desperately tried to push them out of my mind, not wanting to dwell on the memories.

However, it seemed that my heart had a mind of its own today. It stubbornly refused to listen to reason, reminding me of just how much I missed them.

As I swung open the door, a heavy sigh escaped my lips. Once again, the sight of the pictures I had taped on the walls came into view, causing my heart to boil with burning rage. The sorrow of losing my parents because of them, the anger towards these fuckers who took them away from me, makes me want to rip their hearts out from their chests.

I clenched my fists, my knuckles turning white as I fought the urge to tear my hair out. The anger pulsated through my veins, turning my face a deep shade of crimson.

I took a deep breath, hoping to calm the storm raging inside me, but it seemed futile, but memories flooded my mind with fragments of cherished memories. Each glimpse brought forth a rush of emotions, reminding me of all the wonderful experiences and time I had shared with them. Unable to contain my sorrow any longer, a tear escaped my eye and trickled down my cheek, mirroring the intensity of my pounding heart.

Tears cascade down my cheeks as I release a loud scream, scattering every file which is on the table, unable to control my patience, my beating heart, my boiling blood. I collapsed onto the floor, my elbows resting on my knees, my hands still clutching at my hair. The tears continued to flow, my other hand automatically moving to cover my heart. "Mom, Dad, the pain of missing you is too much to bear," I cry uncontrollably.

"The idea of facing this harsh world without you fills me with dread and hopelessness."

I clench my fists and begin to hit my chest, as if attempting to physically ease the emotional pain.

"Mom Dad, the agony is overwhelming. It's tearing me apart," I murmur, my voice quivering with each word spoken to them, even if only in my mind.

After what seems like an endless period of tears and grief, I eventually pull myself together and try to regain control of my emotions.

It was the final moment that my tears fell for them, my heart consumed by a single, intense emotion: hatred. Hatred for those who snatched my parents away from me, who tore apart the fabric of our lives with their cruel actions.

I made a solemn vow. I vowed on the memory of my dead parents, who had taught me the values of love, loyalty, and justice, the emotions I think I've lost now that I would not rest now until every person of his family met their end.

I reach into my pocket and retrieve my mobile phone. With a trembling hand from anger, I wipe away the remnants of tears that have stained my cheeks, a testament to the pain and anger that have fueled my desire for revenge. The time has come, and I can no longer contain my eagerness to witness their fear, to see them tremble before me.

Unlocking my phone, I navigate to my contacts and search for the person who has trained me for this moment of revenge. In the past, I had severed this connection, needing time to heal but I didn't heal. And now, I am ready to unleash the fury that has been brewing inside me.

With a deep breath, I press the call icon next to their name. The sound of the ringing fills my ears, echoing the anticipation that courses through my veins. One ring... Two rings... Three rings... Finally, the call is answered on the other end.

Taking a moment to steady myself, I speak into the phone, my voice filled with determination and resolve. "I'm ready, Suga hyung."

© 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐬𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐲𝐲 (𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐝)

ok🧍

knife | Kim Taehyung Drabble

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; As you make your way towards your new home, an unexpected encounter with a mysterious man interrupts your journey. Will this encounter be a simple interaction or will it lead to an exciting adventure?

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: dark, smut, knife kink

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Taehyung x y/n

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, violence, mention of blood, fuck with knife, unprotected sex, rough sex, maybe there's more.

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.6k+

a/n: Happy New Year Guyz! 🫶

and i can't believe I wrote this.

© 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐬𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐲𝐲 [𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐝]

You are on your way to your new house, a place you were forced to move to by your father's orders. He claims that your previous home was no longer safe due to people who covet something precious to him. Although you may feel alone and question your importance to him, remember that his priority is your safety maybe. Despite his invitation to join him, you declined because you like to stay here, even though you don't have any friends here. You've never been interested in making friends, fearing judgement and rejection. Making friends is not a priority for you; your main focus is on keeping yourself safe. Your father has trained you in various skills, including self-defence, and you take pride in being able to protect yourself. You vividly recalled a memory. One night, at a party, a man - possibly one of your father's enemies - tried to kiss you. Without hesitation, you drew your precious knife and slit his throat, revelling in the sight of his blood spraying everywhere, well maybe you're a creep for loving blood. The incident caused a commotion, and your father punished you by locking you in your room for a whole fucking week.

The GPS voice abruptly interrupts your thoughts, you realise you've arrived at your destination. Opting to park the car in a nearby alley rather than directly in front of your new house, you take precautions to ensure your father's enemies remain unaware of its exact location. Feeling a heavy sigh escape your lips, you reach for your knife on the dashboard. With no belongings in tow, as your father had already arranged everything for your new home, you slip the knife into the pocket of your black leather jacket before stepping out of the car. As you lock your car, a chilling gust of wind brushes against your face, sending a surge of adrenaline through your body. The midnight hour and the desolate alley make you uneasy, but you push aside your fear and decide to make your way out of the alley. However, as you take steps forward, you sense someone's presence behind you. Increasing your pace, you notice the sound of another person's footsteps quickening as well, causing adrenaline to surge through your system once again. In a moment of panic, you pulled out your knife from your pocket, holding it out in plain sight to deter any potential attacker, ensuring that the next person does not suspect anything. You stopped in your tracks and moved backwards, without thinking, you instinctively placing the knife at the stranger's neck.

He's tall enough, but your eyes burn with flames as you catch a glimpse of the enigmatic smirk on his face. The darkness surrounding you makes it difficult to see, but you can make out the bruises on his face - one near his left lip and another on his nose. His disheveled hair adds to his mysterious appearance. When you lock eyes with him, they are so dark and intense that they seem capable of devouring you at any moment. He chuckles sarcastically, causing a shiver to run down your spine. In response, you press your knife against his throat, determined not to show any fear. A small cut appears, and a trickle of blood escapes from his neck. However, he doesn't seem scared or in pain. Instead, his lips curl up even more as the dark blood slides down his neck and onto his collarbone.

"Wow! A knife. Are you flirting with me?" he exclaims, his voice deep and filled with happiness. His eyes dance like a manic, as if he's relishing every moment.

"Y/N" but as he whispers your name, his eyes darken, sending a surge of adrenaline through your body. Your eyes widen in shock - how does he know your name? Questions flood your mind. Is he your enemy? Is he working for your father? But your thoughts are interrupted as he takes a step towards you. In one swift motion, he snatches the knife from your hand, leaving you completely unaware of when he did it. As you realize the emptiness in your hand, you snap back to reality. Just as you lift your leg to kick him in the belly, he moves forward, gripping your waist tightly. Before you know it, your back slams against a hard wall, causing you to hiss in pain, but he doesn't seem to care.

Your legs were trapped, confined within the vice-like grip of his long limbs, leaving you vulnerable and aware of the potential danger. He firmly grasped both of your wrists, overpowering you with his strength, and forcefully pinned them above your head against the unyielding wall. The proximity of his crotch against your abdomen was uncomfortably close, his breath teasingly brushing against your lips, causing your own breath to become shallow in response. His eyes, filled with a predatory hunger, seemed capable of devouring you whole. You try to free your wrists. But your attempts to free your wrists were futile, as his grip only tightened. The intensity in his eyes matched the flames of your own fury, fueled by his overwhelming power and the undeniable effect his proximity had on your body. In the midst of your fear and anger of who the hell is he, you mustered the strength to speak through clenched teeth,

"Who...are...you?"

He let out a mocking chuckle once again, clearly amused by your feeble attempt to break free from his strong hold and your question. He didn't bother answering, leaving you frustrated and desperate to escape his grasp, and all you could think about was how badly you wanted to escape his hold and inflict harm upon him, even to the point of wanting to end his life with your own knife. Whoever he was, you didn't care to know at this moment. All you wanted was to witness him suffer, to see him bleed. His intimidating eyes and smirking lips only added to your annoyance. He was dangerously close to you, so close that you- your thoughts were abruptly interrupted when he suddenly seized your neck, sending shivers down your spine and goosebumps covered your body. Panic filled your widened eyes as his hold grew stronger, making it difficult for you to breathe. You wanted to scream, but your constricted throat prevented any sound from escaping. He inhales the scent of your neck and proceeds to fucking lick it to your jawline, as if you were a delectable treat. His tongue does something inside you, leaving you bewildered and on the brink of death. A tear escapes your eye as his grip tightens, causing your face to turn purple from lack of oxygen. You feel your life slipping away. Just as you were about to lose consciousness, his grip suddenly loosened, allowing you to cough and gasp for air, your eyes shut tightly. Your wrists remained trapped in his vice-like grip, making it clear that escape was impossible. Once you were finally able to catch your breath, you looked at him, only to see his lips curling upwards, as if he found immense joy in seeing you in such a state. He was clearly unhinged. You wanted to scream at him, but no sound came out. He leaned in closer to your ear, his breath tickling your earlobe, causing a strange sensation in your lower region.

"Your precious knife gave me a fucking hard-on, and I was losing all sense of control. If I had let loose back then, you would have been in big trouble. I would've fucked your world against this wall so intensely, you wouldn't even remember your own name by now". He whispered huskily, grinding his clothed crotch against your abdomen, making you feel his hardness.

Your eyes widened in shock at his words, or maybe it was the sensation of his clothed dick pressing into your skin. His hot breath tickled your ear, causing you to shudder in fear or something else. He pulled away from your ear, smirking sarcastically, his eyes still filled with amusement. Anger burned in your eyes as you remembered that smirk, knowing he was the one who had choked you.

"I'll kill you," you whispered, your teeth clenched together, your voice filled with a threatening tone.

It was true, once he freed your wrists, you were going to make him pay. But he just laughed, his deep laughter echoing through the dark alley. You stared at him, dumbfounded and confused. His laughter subsided and he looked at you, his yin yang eyes shining even in the darkness.

"Next time, show me your knife. I'll fuck you right then and there. Don't forget that, y/n." His voice resonated with a seductive allure as he spoke.

As you tried to process his words, you suddenly felt your wrists being released from his grip. You couldn't help but notice the marks his long fingers had left on your skin. Without wasting a moment, your eyes landed on your precious knife, lying on the dirty ground of the alley. Its bright blade shimmered even in the darkness. Filled with anger, you locked eyes with him as he took a step back, a maniacal smirk still plastered on his lips. As you made your way towards your knife, your shoulders brushed against his, and you knew this was the perfect moment to kill him. Swiftly grabbing the knife, you turned around to slit his throat, only to find him nowhere in sight. It was as if he had vanished into thin air. Standing alone in the dark alley, the cold air brushing against your face, leaving you bewildered. How- how could he disappear so quickly? There were no signs of where he had gone. Frustrated with yourself for missing the chance to kill him, you stomped your feet hard on the ground. You can bet your bottom dollar that he doesn't have the speed to make it far from this place.

"There won't be another time, Fucker!" you shouted at the top of your lungs, your throat on the verge of exploding from the sheer volume. Even if he couldn't hear you, you wanted him to know your determination.

It has been a month since that encounter with the brat, and ever since then, a constant feeling of being watched has plagued you. Whether you are outside or inside the house, the sensation persists, yet every attempt to uncover the source of this unease proves futile. Desperate for answers, you even called your father, questioning if he had hired someone to keep an eye on you, only to be met with denial. He inquired if anyone had posed a threat to you, but you lied, claiming it was mere curiosity.

Now, as you sit on the couch, gazing at the night view through the expansive glass wall, the chilling November wind causing the trees to sway, the unsettling feeling remains. Your mind is consumed by unanswered questions, pondering the identity and intentions of this mysterious observer. If he were a foe, he would have ended your life then and there.

You expelled a breath in a huff while gazing downwards. This situation is becoming increasingly difficult for you. Suddenly, a voice filled with unease emanated from the kitchen area, causing your head to snap in that direction instantly. Your breathing quickens, but you remain prepared for a potential attack. Slowly, you rise from the couch, feeling the cold floor beneath your bare feet. The distance to the kitchen is short, just a few steps away from the TV lounge. You grab your knife from the table in front of the couch, 'wherever I am, my knife is there too'.

As you take a step forward onto the chilly floor, your uneasiness intensifies. It feels as though something significant is about to happen. Clutching the knife tightly in your hand, your palms become sweaty as you come to a stop in front of the kitchen door. Inhaling sharply, you slowly open the door, causing it to emit a screeching sound that echoes through the vast, empty hall. You open the door fully, scanning the area with your eyes for any signs of suspicion. However, there is nothing out of the ordinary, except for the open window on the left side of the kitchen. The only source of light is the moon, leaving the rest engulfed in darkness. You let out a sigh of relief, realizing that there is nothing strange. Making your way towards the window, a cold breeze brushes against your face, causing the hairs on your neck to stand on end. Suddenly, your steps come to a halt as you sense someone's presence behind you. Your heart rate increases, and you tightly grip your knife while closing your eyes. You opened your eyes, turn around and press the knife against the person's neck, but there is no movement from them. It is too dark to make out their features, but the height seems familiar. You attempt to catch a glimpse of the face, which remains hidden in the shadows of the kitchen. Your grip on the knife remains firm as you realize with wide eyes that it is him.

"Recognize me, y/n?" he asked, his words sending a shiver down your spine. Your entire body freezes, and you feel a sense of dread wash over you. He takes a step forward, causing you to instinctively take a step back.

You tilt your head to meet his gaze, and there he is, with eyes that seem almost maniacal. Instead of a smile, there's a creepy smirk on his lips, reminiscent of the first time you saw it. In the dim moonlight, you can now fully see his face, and those eyes are etched into your memory. Your left hand still holds the knife against his throat, but your grip has inexplicably lightened. You had been waiting for this moment, to finally end him. So why does your grip loosen?

Suddenly, he grabs your waist, pulling your body closer to his with a strong arm. The knife you had pressed against his neck is pushed forward, creating a new, smaller cut where the last one was. Even though your grip on the knife isn't tight, it leaves you gasping. He looks at you, and his eyes flash, though you can't tell if it's from pain or something else. When your gaze falls upon his lips, they glisten in the moonlight. You unconsciously lick your own lips, and you see him take a sharp breath, his eyes fixed on your mouth. His expression suddenly turns dark, and you gulp nervously. 'What's wrong with me? Why am I looking at his lips? Why do I feel a strange attraction to his maniacal eyes?'

Before you can dwell on your thoughts any longer, his cold thumb brushes against your lower lip, causing your breath to hitch. You look at him, and his dilated pupils and darker eyes give away his desire. A cocky smirk forms on his lips, and you can't help but feel a mix of fear and a strange, unexpected arousal.

"Are you scared, hmm?" he inquired with his deep, husky voice that had the power to bring any girl to her knees, not you, but maybe you too.

His question snapped you back to reality. But as he spoke, a surge of adrenaline coursed through your entire body, instantly capturing your attention. A question immediately formed in your mind - are you scared? No. maybe yes. You refuse to show any signs of fear, for you are not one to easily reveal your vulnerabilities.

"I'm not scared of you, not even in your fucking dreams," you whisper, barely audible, attempting to convey your lack of fear. However, your voice comes out hoarse, betraying the intensity of the situation. Yet, strangely enough, he finds your raspy voice incredibly sexy, causing him to lose control over himself. He chuckles sarcastically, and in a swift motion reminiscent of the first time, he snatches the knife from your hand and grasps your throat.

Your eyes widen in realization, as once again, you have failed to maintain a firm hold on your weapon. You're aware that this time he's going to strangle you to death, his hold on your throat tight, causing you to snap back to reality and your breath to cease due to his firm grip on your neck.

Hold on, your hands are actually free. He didn't grab your wrists. Why? But now is not the time to ponder over it while he's choking you. It's the perfect opportunity to take advantage of your untied hands. You deliver a powerful punch to his jaw, causing his grip to loosen from your throat, and you yanked his hand away. You cough, desperately trying to catch your breath as he stumbled back, surprised by the force of your punch. His eyes widen at your audacity. He clenches his jaw and tenderly touches his injured jaw. He hisses in pain, but suddenly, the hiss transforms into a sinister chuckle.

"Well, well, well! You've managed to make the same mistake again" his deep taunting voice reverberated through the kitchen, your entire body went rigid. The sheer power behind his voice sent shivers down your spine, instantly reminding you of the warning you had completely forgotten. Adrenaline surged through your veins, filling you with a rush of fear.

'Next time, show me your knife. I'll fuck you right then and there. Don't forget that, y/n.'

Your heart races as you gulp, unaware of the fear that has taken hold of you. Your throat feels dry, and the realization hits you - he's not going to harm you, is he? Panic sets in as you realize your knife is not in your hands, knowing that if it were, you might have already defended yourself. Fear courses through your veins, and his warning only intensifies the wetness between your legs.

'What the hell is happening to me? I can feel my knees wobbling' you thought to yourself, bewildered by the power he seems to have over you. You desperately try to hide your fear, not wanting him to see how much his gaze and warning have affected you.

"Fuck off. I'll kill you this time. So why should I be worried about your warning?" you retort, pointing a trembling finger at him, attempting to regain control over your body and conceal your true state.

"Oh, I'm scared, y/n," he snickers in his deep voice, a mischievous glint in his eyes and a playful smirk on his lips. He places a hand on his chest, feigning fear, but his act is transparent.

"Huh, I know how much-" your sentence was abruptly interrupted as he took a large stride towards you, causing your steps to stumble backward involuntarily. Wide-eyed and speechless, you feel small and vulnerable in his towering presence, as if you were nothing more than a child standing before him. Leaning in closer, he brought his face inches away from yours. The scent of smoke lingered on his breath as his intense gaze locked onto your eyes. You couldn't help but hold the eye contact, feeling the weight of his stare. Though you wanted to curse him, your throat felt parched and the words remained unsaid.

His large hands firmly grasp your hips, effortlessly lifting your body off the ground and causing your legs to wrap around his torso. The sudden touch catches you off guard, but it also awakens your senses.

"What on earth do you think you're doing?" you demand, using your small hands to push against his muscular chest, attempting to break free from his hold. However, your efforts prove futile as his grip only tightens around your hips.

"You already know, stubborn cat," he retorts with a deep, husky voice that resembles a thunderstorm. A mischievous smirk plays on his annoyingly beautiful face, making you yearn to wipe it off. He turns around, your legs still securely tied to his toned torso, and a sense of worry begins to creep in.

"Stop! Put me down, right now," you spat breathlessly, this time exerting all your strength to push him. It feels as though you're exerting all your strength, pushing against an immovable stone. Eventually, you give up, exhausted from the effort. You didn't push harder because you were afraid of the consequences if he were lose control.

Despite your pleas, he continues to move forward, ignoring your requests to put yo down. Your mind goes numb as he takes each step, and a single thought dominates your consciousness: 'Is he really going to fuck me?' Your hands remain on his chest, feeling the rhythmic rise and fall as he breathes. His breath, smoky and warm, reaches your nose.

After just a few steps, he abruptly stops. Your head jerks up, hope flickering in your eyes as you gaze at him. However, his eyes are dark, like a moonless night. Maybe he will release you, maybe he wasn't serious about his warning. But your hope shatters when your hips make contact with the cold counter, causing you to hiss from the sudden chill and shattering your assumptions.

He positions himself between your legs, his gaze filled with a promise to dominate you, and your heart races as you feel the tent in his pants. However, there is absolutely no way you can make him fuck you. You exerted a significant amount of force this time, but he pushed his body onto yours and nothing like any collision with the refrigerator as you had hoped. As a result, your face is flushed with anger and a mix of other emotions that you'd rather not dwell on.

"Nice one, y/n," he taunts you, his deep voice filled with amusement. It's fucking sexy, but you refuse to let him see how much of an effect he has on you. 'Shut up, y/n,' your eyes still burning with anger.

"Huh, that was just the beginning," you snort, giving him a sarcastic smirk. Because what comes next will make him regret ever being born. You lean in closer, feeling his smirk grow. You bring your face near his ear, your breath teasing him, and you just want him to experience this sensation for just a moment. You then lean down towards his neck, sensing his tension and the alluring scent of musk emanating from him. But you push those distractions aside because you have a mission to accomplish. Now or never.

As you open your mouth to bite him, he unexpectedly pulls your hair harshly, causing your mouth to hang open. Your hands instinctively find their way to his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin. You suck a breath, tears welling up from deep within and streaming down your cheeks from the sudden pain. He forces you to look at him, his dark eyes growing even darker. He brings his face closer to yours, and suddenly, you feel small.

"You did this," he said, pointing his hard dick with his eyes. A wide grin spread across his face, revealing his white teeth, making him look like a maniac. As he exhaled, his breath brushed against your lips, causing a shiver to run down your spine.

"Now, princess, it's time to face the consequences," he whispered, his eyes dark but his lips curved into a childlike smile. It was evident that he was enjoying seeing you in pain.

He released your hair, and you let out a sigh, realizing how long you had been holding your breath. However, your moment of relief was short-lived as he forcefully removed your hands from his shoulder and held them tightly in his large hand. Using your wrists by pinnig them above your head, he makes you to lie on the cold counter, causing your back to arch from the sudden chill. He loomed over you, making you feel incredibly small. You stared at him in disbelief, desperately trying to break free from his grip, but it only tightened.

You winced in pain, tears streaming down your face and leaving streaks on your cheeks. He leaned in, his face just inches away from yours. His breath tickled your skin, carrying his smoky scent to your nostrils.

Suddenly, a metallic sound reached your ears, and you wondered if it was the sound of your knife. But where did it come from? Your eyes widened as you realized he had placed the knife on the counter beside you. You saw him smile, his boxy smile revealing his front white teeth like an innocent child, but his eyes told a different story. They were crinkled at the corners, dark and mysterious.

He was so close, and you were afraid to break eye contact. You didn't know what he would do if you closed your eyes even for a moment to gather yourself and think of a way to escape his grip. Taking a deep breath, you tried to relax, inhaling his scent. You had to do it, you had to find a way to calm yourself down.

As you closed your eyes, he licked your cheek, causing your eyes to snap open. You looked at him, wide-eyed, feeling his saliva stick to your skin. He smirked again, like a maniac. Damn.

"What the fuck was that?" you whispered, your voice barely audible. You tried once again to free yourself from his grip, but he was incredibly strong.

"Your tears taste salty," he claimed, his voice deep, yet he answered you like a child. Whose tears aren't salty? You wanted to laugh at his silly response, but you held it in, keeping a straight face, not wanting to show him that you found him amusing.

"What do you want with me? Just leave me already, huh?" you slurred, making eye contact with him, but he seemed unaffected by your plea. He rested his head on yours, making you look at him in confusion. He chuckled softly, his breath brushing against your lips. You had initially planned to deal with him patiently, but now you realized your intentions were all wrong.

"What makes you think I'll leave you?" he pondered, his voice taking on a dominant tone.

His other hand extends towards the knife, breaking contact with your forehead. You observe his every move, every little action, your throat drying up as you focus on his hand. His veins bulge as he tightly grips your knife.

You can't help but wonder what he plans to do with the knife. The thought of him possibly killing you now sends a shiver down your spine.

You let out a sigh and close your eyes, preparing yourself for the worst. This feels like the end. 'I hate my life. I never got to truly enjoy it,' you think to yourself.

Suddenly, your thoughts are interrupted as your eyes widen. You feel him removing your sweatpants, and a strange sensation awakens in your stomach. Your muscles instinctively tighten, and your folds clenched around nothing. His cold hand, holding the knife, brushes against your skin, causing you to shudder at the unfamiliar touch.

Your breath becomes sharp as he swiftly removes your pants, leaving you in just your panties and your blue puffy sweater. The cold air hits your bare legs, making you realize that you allowed him to undress you.

You're furious with yourself, wanted to scream, but your focus is solely on his physique. Your arousal intensifies when he removes your panties, causing your wet folds to clench around nothing. In that moment, you realize you're fucked up. From the second he choked you, you craved him. It's insane, isn't it?

But damn, you want him to fuck you the instant he reminds you of the warning he gave. You've been deceiving yourself all this time, fighting against your desires. But now, your dripping pussy yearns for him, and you won't deny your sexual tension.

Unexpectedly, you wrap your legs around his waist, surprising him. After a brief moment, his surprise transforms into excitement, his lips curling into a wicked grin. He hovers over you, leaning closer until his breath caresses your lips. You inhale his intoxicating scent, realizing that you're acting like a complete maniac.

He examined your face intently, releasing his grasp on your wrists, catching you off guard. You were taken aback, your eyes widening in surprise. But now, you didn't want him to go. You wanted him to fulfill his promise, to fuck you just like he had warned. You even dropped a subtle hint, silently pleading for him to take charge.

"Are you not going to fuck me?" you asked, the question slipping out against your will.

Your eyes widened at the sudden inquiry that had only been in your mind moments ago. In a panic, you quickly covered your mouth with your sweaty palm.

He chuckled, his deep voice stirring something in your core. He removed your hand from your mouth, his touch sending shivers down your spine. His wild eyes, which you were starting to crave, were fixed on you.

"No, I'm not. But I'm going to destroy your world right here. Wanna know how?" he whispered, his warm breath teasing your lips, causing a shiver to cascade through your body.

Without warning, he thrust his hips forward, leaving you gasping as his throbbing shaft made a bold appearance in his jeans. He smirked as he observed your reaction, then slowly backed away, untying your legs from around his waist, leaving you feeling disappointed. However, you didn't want him to see your crestfallen expression, so you pressed your lips into a tight, straight line.

His intense gaze bore into your dilated pupils, never wavering. With your palms on the cold kitchen counter, you lean forward, supporting yourself to catch a glimpse of what he's up to. But when you lock eyes with him, he returns the gaze with hooded eyes, causing your heart to race. His intense gaze drifts down to your soaked panties that cling to your core. A wave of embarrassment washed over you, realizing that he hadn't even touched you, and yet you're dripping this much. You consider closing your legs, but before you can, his large, slender hand comes into contact with your inner thigh, forcefully spreading your legs wide open. A hiss of pain escapes your lips, and as you glance at him, you notice a smirk on his face that's even more pronounced than before. It turns him on to see you in pain.

He twirled the knife in his hand, taking a step closer to you. Your throat tightened as his other hand, still resting on your inner thigh, brushed against your soaked panties. Leaning in until his face was level with yours, his dark, mysterious eyes locked onto yours, intensifying the connection between you. His fingers began to rub against the fabric of your panties, causing your eyes to roll back involuntarily, your mouth hanging open, and your breath quickening.

"Already wet for me," he commented, his voice dripping with satisfaction as he continued to rub you through the thin barrier. You looked at him with half-open eyes, your face flushed with both embarrassment and pleasure from his touch. You couldn't deny how much you were enjoying it. Your folds tighten around nothing, craving more.

He skillfully slid your panties to the side, exposing your core with his sinful fingers. Instead of removing them completely, he simply moved them aside, his mysterious dark eyes locked onto yours. As the cold wind brushed against your sensitive flesh, causing you to shiver in anticipation.

Before you knew it, your mouth fell open, a strange sound escaping your lips. Your head instinctively threw back, your eyes rolling back in pleasure as the cold handle of the knife thrust in your heat. Your hand reached out, finding his, as he pulled the knife handle out of your wet core. With a forceful grip on your chin, he made you look into his eyes as he thrust back in, his gaze darker than the night.

It was difficult to maintain eye contact while he continued to pleasure you with the knife handle, but strangely enough, you found yourself enjoying every moment.

"Look at me while I fuck you with your precious knife," he demanded, his voice growling with desire. His command caused your walls to clench tightly around the knife handle, intensifying the pleasure. You bit down on your lower lip, tasting the metallic tang of your own blood.

Your hand instinctively tightened around his, the one holding the knife blade. He hissed in pain, taking a sharp breath, and you felt warm droplets of his blood falling onto your thigh. But in that moment, you couldn't bring yourself to care.

His other slender hand grabbed your right leg, lifting it onto his shoulder, causing you to gasp loudly at the sudden change in position. Your other hand, which is pressed against the cold counter, found its way to his shoulder, gripping his hoodie tightly, while the other remained on his hand, guiding the knife that was fucking you. Your forehead glistened with sweat, strands of hair sticking to your skin.

"Please, fuck me," you moan loudly, your voice filled with desperation. Your arousal continues to build, reaching new heights. Just when you think you can't take it anymore, he abruptly stops thrusting the knife into you. Your eyes widen, your brows furrow in confusion as the handle of the knife lingers inside you. You take a sharp breath, your disappointment evident. He pulls the knife out of your dripping core, denying you the orgasm you were so close to experiencing. A dark, maniacal smirk spreads across his face, his eyes filled with a sinister gleam.

"I will," he says, his voice dripping with the intensity of his desire to dominate and destroy you. But what is he talking about? What will he do? You look at him, your confusion evident in your eyes. You remove one hand from his shoulder, but keep the other one firmly in place. He brings the knife closer to his face, licking your juices off the handle with a sinful hum. His eyes close in pleasure as he savors the taste. Your throat tightens as you gulp, watching his Adam's apple bob.

"What will you do?" you ask, your voice coming out shallow despite your attempts to steady your breathing. He stops licking the knife, chuckling sarcastically at your question. He finds it amusing how you seem to have forgotten your own request.

"You begged me to fuck you, and I can't wait to make you come harder on my cock," he simply states, sending your heart racing once again.

He takes your leg off his shoulder, causing you to let out a deep sigh as your leg finds a comfortable position. However, the commanding tone of his voice, as he talks about fucking you, sends shivers of anticipation down your body.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck y/n". He moans, his voice growling as he thrusts harder into your tight pussy. Your right cheek squeezes harder on the pillow, your breath heavy and labored. It's difficult to breathe normally when his long fingers have a tight grip on the back of your neck, making you gasp for air. Your sweaty hands grip the bedsheets tightly as your whole body jerks forward with each forceful thrust from behind.

"Moan my name," he commands, his deep voice even deeper now. One hand squeezes hard on your ass cheek, leaving his thick blood smeared all over your thighs, while the other hand is wrapped around your throat, choking you from behind. You try to listen to his voice, but you're too drained of energy to moan his name anymore. You've cum so hard around his throbbing cock that you've even forgotten your own name. And he was right when he said he would utterly destroy you.

When he promised to make you cum harder, he led you to your bedroom and forcefully threw you onto your soft bed, causing you to gasp in surprise. In an instant, he aggressively ripped all your clothes off, exposing your naked body, as well as his own. Your eyes widened as you saw his throbbing cock pressed against his abdomen, causing your mouth to water and your core to ache. You couldn't help but clench your thighs together as you stared at his rock-hard dick. It was then that he lost control. He commanded you to lay on your stomach, and before you knew it, you were whimpering in anticipation. He thrust his big cock deep inside your dripping core, and then he whispered his name for you to moan.

His name is Taehyung. Kim Taehyung. You moaned his name loudly as you reached the most intense orgasm of your life.

And now, you're completely lost in the pleasure. Your body can't handle it anymore. Your core is throbbing, and you can't help but feel swollen. Without warning, a forceful spank lands on your ass cheek, leaving behind his handprint. You hiss in pain, and he hisses too, because of his injured palm. He pulls your face close to his from behind, gripping your neck tightly. You gasp as the position feels strange. Your ass is pressed against his abdomen, and your back arches as he brings your head close to his face. You turn your head to look at him, and his face is so close, his messy, sweaty hair sticking to his forehead. Perhaps you look the same, disheveled and covered in sweat.

"I told you to moan my name, princess Y/N," he asserts once more, his voice dripping with dominance as he thrusts his hips upwards.

"Oh, fuck, Taehyung," you moan loudly as a second wave of arousal builds in your stomach. Your dripping core clenches tightly around his cock, your head reaching his shoulder and your nails digging into his shoulders. Neither of you cares about anything else in that moment because you're both lost in the pleasure.

He starts jerking his hips upwards at a rapid pace, cursing in your ear and telling you how amazing it feels to have his dick inside you with his deep voice. Your entire body squirms, and you know you can't hold on any longer. Both of your moans fill the room, maybe even the entire house.

"Come harder around my cock again," he commands, and it's exactly what you wanted to hear before you explode around his throbbing cock. Your eyes shut from exhaustion, and your chest rises and falls rapidly.

His own dick twitches inside your dripping core. He pulls out and releases his load onto your ass with a loud 'fuck' escaping his sinful tongue. His seeds cover your ass and lower back. His chest rises and falls rapidly from the release. After relaxing his breathing, he made you lay down, but you're not even fully present in this world.

You never knew you had a taste for rough sex, but damn, you enjoyed every touch and every moment of his dominance.

Now, you're completely spent, your body feeling lifeless. Your eyes refuse to open, as if in protest. You lie there, covered in a mixture of his cum and blood, knowing that when you wake up, you'll be startled by your appearance. Your mind is numb, unable to process anything except the faint movements in the room. Suddenly, you feel him sits on the bed, his hot breath reaching your ear. With half-open eyes, you gaze at his handsome yet mysterious face.

"Next time, I'm going to fuck every single holes of your beautiful body. Now, sleep, my stubborn little cat," he whispers, reminding you of what's to come. You close your eyes, aware of him rising from the bed and leaving your life temporarily. And the first thought that crosses your mind is:

There's going to be a 'next time'.

⋆𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞:

⇢My writing depends on my mood, and it can vary from dark, yandere and smutty to fluffy, angsty, or even thrilling and action-packed. As I mentioned before, it all depends on my mood.

⋆𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞:

⇢Member x member and relationships like step-fathers, brothers, or sisters. It's just not my cup of tea.

⋆𝐀𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬/𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐬:

⇢I enjoy writing series/books of members with an original female character(protagonist). I just love creating my own female protagonists and weaving them into the world of the fanfiction series.

⋆𝐀𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬/𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬:

⇢As for drabbles/one-shots, I like to involve you, the reader, as the main female character.

⋆𝐀𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬:

⇢I apologize, I can't fulfill requests because I tend to be very lazy and my tasks always take forever to finish. I have plenty of ideas in my head, but putting them into writing is time-consuming.

⋆𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐞:

⇢I don't have a fixed schedule for my updates. Before asking about updates please keep in mind that I have a life outside of this just like all of you.

⋆𝐀𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭:

⇢I have no clue about taglists, adding or removing people, blah blah blah. But if you explain about taglists to me and I find it interesting, then maybe I'll give it a shot.

Eid Mubarak to all of you who are celebrating. I know it's hard to get in the spirit this year as so many Palestinians spend their Eid starving and in tents but I hope your Eid is full of peace and love. May we see a free Palestine by next Eid.

Sorrowful Love | Ch#4 | JJK

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; All he desires is vengeance.

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: thriller, angst, love at first sight, au! sexting

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x Sena oc!

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: This story contains explicit language, graphic violence(murders, blood etc), and other mature content, If you are easily affected by such themes, it might be best to avoid reading it.

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.8k+

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭⇢

Jungkook's Pov:

After my encounter with that weird girl, the first thought that crossed my mind was, 'What a strange girl!'. Despite my efforts to suppress it, a smile involuntarily crept onto my lips. It was as if her eccentricity had a contagious effect on me, leaving me both bewildered and amused.

'Fuck'

Women don't usually bewilder me, and I'm not easily amused by girly things or their peculiar behaviors. However, against all odds, she managed to bring a small smile to my face. I can't believe how?

Later on, I decided to buy Geworin tablets, for myself. As I paid for the medication and walked out of the pharmacy, I just hoped that this medication would provide some relief, a glimmer of hope to lift my spirits.

After buying medicine, I make my way back home through the familiar streets. I unlock the door, step inside, and head straight to the kitchen to fetch a water bottle. With the pill in hand and a glass of water, I swallow it down and feel a sense of relief washing over me.

Feeling slightly better, I make my way to the art gallery, constructed in the basement. Bending down, I retrieve the hidden key from beneath the carpet and walk over to a large canvas. With a bit of effort, I lift the canvas and set it aside, revealing a hidden door. Inserting the key into the lock, I hear the satisfying click as it opens. I then tuck the key back into the right pocket of my pants and swing the door open.

As I step into the room, my eyes immediately gravitate towards the images that I've meticulously taped on the wall. These images represent the people who have caused me immense pain and anger. With a mix of hate and disdain, I take a moment to glance at each one, feeling a surge of emotions coursing through my veins. It's as if the mere sight of these individuals ignites a fire within me, causing my blood to boil and wanting me to end these people's lives right now.

With a sense of determination, I reach for a file sitting on the table nearby.

However, before I can even open the file, the familiar ring of my phone interrupts the moment. I place the file back on the table and smoothly retrieve my phone from the right pocket of my pants. Glancing at the caller ID, I see an unfamiliar number flashing on the screen.

Considering the limited number of contacts I have saved in my phone, I deduce that this call must be related to an order I've been expecting. I answer the call, And a soft voice greets me on the other end, belonging to a girl who seems eager to speak.

"Ah, hello," she says, her voice carrying a sense of excitement. "I'd like to order a painting."

Intrigued by her request, I find myself momentarily forgetting about the images on the wall and the file on the table. Instead, I focus my attention on this individual on the other side of the phone.

I asked the girl on the phone, "Can you share with me your emotions?"

In response, she started to speak rapidly, expressing, "I am overwhelmed with emotions at the moment, and I find it hard to put them into words. I am also curious about understanding my emotions, which is why I am interested in this artwork. I am eager to explore the range of emotions I am experiencing. Let me begin to describe them to you. Please make a note of them, okay? I am feeling a mix of despair, happiness, and fear right now. I crave love in my life, yet there are moments when I feel like I can do without it. I am puzzled by my own emotions. Just capture all of this," she paused, taking a deep breath.

I couldn't help but chuckle as I jotted down her array of emotions.

"I will do my best. I will let you know once it's done," I assured her.

"Oh my goodness, thank you so much! I am beyond grateful. I don't know how to repay you. Oh, I almost forgot to ask, how much will this painting cost?"She immediately exclaimed, and her words made me giggle for some reason.

"Why are you laughing?" she inquired with a soft voice. "Is the cost really that high that it's beyond my means?"

Responding to her concerns, I offered reassurance, "No, it's not as expensive as you think. Depending on how you feel, the price ranges around xxx ."

Relieved by my response, she let out a sigh and said, "Thank goodness, I can afford it."

"By the way, could you please share your name with me so I can recognize you when you come for the painting?" I asked.

After a brief pause, she ended the call with a contemplative "hmm." Meanwhile, I found myself simply staring at the screen of my phone, unsure of what to do next. Suddenly, a message from her appeared on the screen, breaking the silence.

Curiosity piqued, I eagerly opened the message and read the words,

"'Natasha' is my name."

Reading those four words repeatedly, I sensed that she had given me a false name. Her peculiar actions brought a chuckle to my lips as I securely tucked my phone back into the left pocket of my pants.

5:30pm

I decided to take a leisurely stroll through the nearby neighborhood park. As I step outside, I inhale deeply, allowing the fresh evening air to fill my lungs. The park is bathed in a soft golden glow as the sun begins its descent, casting long shadows across the grass.

I start my walk, my footsteps echoing softly on the pavement. As I make my way through the park, I take in the sights and sounds around me. The chirping of birds, the rustling of leaves in the gentle breeze, and the distant laughter of children playing in the playground.

As I continue my stroll, my gaze sweeps across the park, taking in the various scenes unfolding before me. And then, something catches my eye. A young child, full of energy and excitement, dashing towards his parents. His tiny legs carry him swiftly, his face beaming with joy.

I watch as his mother, with open arms, scoops him up into a warm embrace, showering him with kisses. His father, standing nearby, can't help but pinch his cheeks affectionately.

Unbeknownst to me, a single tear escapes my eye, rolling down my cheek. I quickly turn my head, hoping no one notices, and take a few deep breaths to compose myself. And decide it's time to head back home.

After arriving home, I made my way to the room that I had meticulously designed to resemble the gallery. As I entered, I couldn't help but notice that my heartbeat was racing at an alarming rate. The mere thought of them sent shivers down my spine, making me want to let out a scream. I desperately tried to push them out of my mind, not wanting to dwell on the memories.

However, it seemed that my heart had a mind of its own today. It stubbornly refused to listen to reason, reminding me of just how much I missed them.

As I swung open the door, a heavy sigh escaped my lips. Once again, the sight of the pictures I had taped on the walls came into view, causing my heart to boil with burning rage. The sorrow of losing my parents because of them, the anger towards these fuckers who took them away from me, makes me want to rip their hearts out from their chests.

I clenched my fists, my knuckles turning white as I fought the urge to tear my hair out. The anger pulsated through my veins, turning my face a deep shade of crimson.

I took a deep breath, hoping to calm the storm raging inside me, but it seemed futile, but memories flooded my mind with fragments of cherished memories. Each glimpse brought forth a rush of emotions, reminding me of all the wonderful experiences and time I had shared with them. Unable to contain my sorrow any longer, a tear escaped my eye and trickled down my cheek, mirroring the intensity of my pounding heart.

Tears cascade down my cheeks as I release a loud scream, scattering every file which is on the table, unable to control my patience, my beating heart, my boiling blood. I collapsed onto the floor, my elbows resting on my knees, my hands still clutching at my hair. The tears continued to flow, my other hand automatically moving to cover my heart. "Mom, Dad, the pain of missing you is too much to bear," I cry uncontrollably.

"The idea of facing this harsh world without you fills me with dread and hopelessness."

I clench my fists and begin to hit my chest, as if attempting to physically ease the emotional pain.

"Mom Dad, the agony is overwhelming. It's tearing me apart," I murmur, my voice quivering with each word spoken to them, even if only in my mind.

After what seems like an endless period of tears and grief, I eventually pull myself together and try to regain control of my emotions.

It was the final moment that my tears fell for them, my heart consumed by a single, intense emotion: hatred. Hatred for those who snatched my parents away from me, who tore apart the fabric of our lives with their cruel actions.

I made a solemn vow. I vowed on the memory of my dead parents, who had taught me the values of love, loyalty, and justice, the emotions I think I've lost now that I would not rest now until every person of his family met their end.

I reach into my pocket and retrieve my mobile phone. With a trembling hand from anger, I wipe away the remnants of tears that have stained my cheeks, a testament to the pain and anger that have fueled my desire for revenge. The time has come, and I can no longer contain my eagerness to witness their fear, to see them tremble before me.

Unlocking my phone, I navigate to my contacts and search for the person who has trained me for this moment of revenge. In the past, I had severed this connection, needing time to heal but I didn't heal. And now, I am ready to unleash the fury that has been brewing inside me.

With a deep breath, I press the call icon next to their name. The sound of the ringing fills my ears, echoing the anticipation that courses through my veins. One ring... Two rings... Three rings... Finally, the call is answered on the other end.

Taking a moment to steady myself, I speak into the phone, my voice filled with determination and resolve. "I'm ready, Suga hyung."

© 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐬𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐲𝐲 (𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐝)