Yandere!taehyung - Tumblr Posts

Bound By Blood (m)

synopsis: A servant to the state since birth, forced to work for the royal family until you die. These are the conditions that have granted to life, yet are they are the same ones that can take everything away. He can take everything away. But he would never, for you are his future, his eternity.

k.taehyung x f.reader

❦︎ ݁ ˖┊: wc: 16.0k

❦︎ ݁ ˖┊: genre: royalty au, soft yandere, fluff, smut, smidge of angst

❦︎ ݁ ˖┊: content: soft yandere!prince!taehyung, maid!reader, power imbalance, talks about death/violence, blood, slight predator/prey dynamics, manipulation, misunderstandings, dom!tae, tae calls reader lamb, oral (f.receiving), marriage related dirty talk, virginity kink/loss of virginity, size kink praise, reader is fucked dumb, implied kissing reader while she sleeps, implied offscreen somno, implied stalking, tae is rlly sweet and adorable

❦︎ ݁ ˖┊: notes: hello!!! this was meant to be a drabble but as you can see it spiralled out of control lmao. i got a little hyper fixated (and grew a really bad crush on this taehyung) so it ended up being way longer than i initially thought! regardless, i hope you all enjoy it as much as i did writing it!!

18+ -> minors / blank blogs dni

The Kim Empire. 

Your home, your family, your livelihood all wrapped up in those three little words.

They practically brandish your mind, have been since you were no more than a babe. Stuck in the clutches of everything Kim since you were born. Your mother a maid, your father gone from the face of the earth. At least as far as you are concerned he is, anyway. 

He is better off dead. The alternative of him living scott free in some far off land, meanwhile you have to serve the hand and foot of the king sets no more than the bitter taste of coffee beans against your gums. 

Bedding your mother, no more than a fresh-faced maid at the time. Outcasting her the second after when he had to have known the rules of the palace. The demise it would cost both her and her future daughter. Perhaps every generation that followed as well– if there were to be any, that is. 

Housestaff are not meant to have relationships. They are meant to serve the king and his bountiful family. How are you meant to do anything else with a child bouncing at your hip, a husband grabbing at your ass. 

You’ve heard the speech plenty of times. The words ingrained in your skull just as the brand you received when you were far too young to remember the pain of it. Evidence that you are bound to the palace by blood until the very moment you take your last breath. 

The punishment for becoming pregnant within the walls of the palace are simple: your child belongs to them. For anything within the Kim Estate is their rightful property, given to them by the grace of god. 

You, a gift from god to serve the empire. You would snort at the notion if training from a young age prohibited it. You are just a result of your mothers kindness, her naivety. 

You could never find it within your heart to blame her. She was just a girl who thought she was in love. Fired for her love. Had her daughter taken from her to serve for her love.

Love is something you will never be granted the property of. 

You will be granted an allowance to send home to your mother to keep her afloat. You will be granted a room to sleep in, clothes to wear, food to eat. A secure job in which you can never be fired– well. That is a lie. Though, your termination would come at the end of an axe, rather than a piece of paper. 

You used to muse at the thought– when you were a young girl, no more than 11 or 12. Going through your melancholy years, hating the rest of the world for simply existing. For putting you in a position where you could not change your fate, instead had to endure your present. Feeling like a  girl trapped in a tower just like the bedtime stories had always prescribed. 

One time you had caused such a ruckus in front of the oldest Kim son you really did think you were going to get the axe. Hell, you were even prepared for it. Locked away in a cell for two nights, brought before the executor. 

Right before the swing was meant to be brought down against your neck the head maid ran into the room, gave some sort of letter to the man. She apologised profusely, gripping your ear and dragging you away from the scene. 

You hadn’t acted ary since then. It taught you your place. Made you realise the need to survive buried deep within your bones. In the innate way some sort of wildcat would lash out until it was bloodied and on its last breath. 

You would not die at the end of a knife. You’d live your life, acting a maid until you could die peacefully of old age. Even if it meant surrendering yourself to servitude for the most annoying brat you’ve ever laid eyes on. 

A quiet sigh slips past your lips at the mere thought of him. The sound would get you punished if anyone were to hear, especially in respect to the coveted crown prince of the kingdom. Few share the same opinion as you of him– but then again most that work here aren’t forced. 

It is only when the stars are strung high in the sky that you allow yourself to feel such things. When you stay awake past the beginning of rest hours, most of the staff (save for the night shift) falling to sleep hours prior. Only then when you’re out in the gardens do you allow indignation to satiate your brain. 

For the few hours of freedom you may hold dear until the next morning begins and you are forced to live the same day once more. Over and over again until the end of time. 

Your fingertips reach out as you walk, bruised from the scrubbing of floors, to find purchase against the walls of flowers rimming the maze. Rough fingertips dance against the gentle petals of roses, lulling in the feeling. Picking themselves against the thorns without much of a thought, not withdrawing. Only pausing feet to observe. 

How can something so delicate and beautiful wish to cause harm? It does not. It simply desires a way to survive. You could never fault it for that. 

“Pretty, are they not?” A dark, husky voice sends cold down your spine. Hairs become on edge, back straightens taught, ears perk just as if you are an obedient dog. Fear flashing through your entire being.

You do not wish to turn around. Do not have any want to face the man that has caught the air in your lungs. The one catching you in the garden without any proper attire in place. Though you must. You must bow, grovel at his feet for forgiveness for allowing him to see you in your nightgown. For not being in bed as you should. 

Prince Kim has never been known for being kind. 

Your body acts for you while your mind sets on pause– taking several steps forward, bending your body at the hips to give a proper 90 degree bow. Your hands clasp before you, hair coming down in front of your face. 

“Prince Kim–” You rush, suddenly out of breath, “Please forgive my insolence. I-I am not of right attire or mind to be standing in front of his excellency right now. Nor should I be excused for touching the property of the palace. I have no proper excuse and any punishment you decide will be deserving. Please forgive me.” The words recite from your lips like a bible– instruction of them being heard time and time again. 

Cold night air whips at your ankles, fluttering the gown around your ankles. The chill only adding to the cold sweat you’ve discovered has perspired. Making your hair dance around your shoulders.

You expect something, anything really. A slap, a single word. Though there is only silence in response. Silence that extends far too long and feels far too pungent for your taste. If he was going to do something, you rather he just get it over with. 

After what feels like an eternity, you finally hear the baritone of his voice once more.

“Pretty, are they not?” He asks again, repeating the same sentiments as before. Confusion bristles through as a kite in the summer air. Why is he asking you this? Is he not annoyed he caught a maid in such a level of disrobement? What is he trying to gain? What does he want? 

All the questions you do not have any hope to answer rush through you causing you to feel confused and incomposed. Every boring lesson you were forced to sit through never taught you how to deal with this exact situation. You aren’t sure what he wants, nor your place in the garden. The thought scares you. 

Against your better judgement, you allow your chin to tilt up only slightly. Only enough to look at the man– to try and read the expression on his face so you can better analyse your next action. 

The shock you feel when you find his face is only inches from your own, frame bent down to make his eyes level with yours is something you cannot explain in words alone. 

You would prefer to scream and run, however that is not an option at this moment, or so it appears. Instead, your eyes only widen in shock, in trepidation. Your mouth opens into a small ‘o’ as you stare.

Never before have you made eye contact with a member of the family. Never before have you had the luxury to view one so close. In any other circumstance, you suppose, you would surely be punished for such a thing. Someone lower should never view a future king in such a way.

You wish you could say he was a heinous, ugly beast for hatred of the palace alone. Yet you can’t, for he isn’t. He is beautiful. 

Sure, you knew that already. Paintings of him are plastered across the walls– his face is everywhere eyes are able to reach. Yet this close, at this angle, you can’t stop the way your heart skips a beat. Can’t help but admire every facet of his complexion before being thrown in front of the lion again. 

A gorgeous, blinding smile wipes across his face the moment you face him. Lips forming into an adorable box after he finally has your attention fully drawn on him. You’re startled back once again, sending your brain into a further whirlwind than before. 

He desires an answer.

“I um… Yes. I suppose they are.” You nod slowly in response, following in his footsteps as he returns to full height. 

You must follow his lead– it is how you will survive. 

You usher a stray lock of hair over your shoulder, trying to stop it from hitting your face. The air starts to become stale again, feeling empty in the lack of his reply. It is awkward, and the way he stares at you, eyes darting around your face– your figure, has you feeling in some sort of girlish, embarrassed way. 

You think you dislike the feeling. 

“Are you a fan of roses?” His arms are pulled behind him, wrapped together as he bounces on his toes in something that looks like… boyish delight? The muddle of your brain can't help to understand a single thing. He is making no sense, trying to make conversation with you. Trying to find a morsel of companionship in someone who is meant to bow to him like he is the true god of your mortal plain.

You will have to oblige until he allows you to depart. 

“I suppose so.” 

He frowns. Try again.

“I adore them, the palace always has the most gorgeous petals all year round.” You smile at him, hoping it masks any discomfort you feel. 

The smile returns to his own lips as he begins to walk. Tilting his head to you as a cue to join him. You try to keep your paces a few behind his own, a maid should never walk beside a member of the family. Though he only slows in response, matching your gate even though it is obvious he hates having to slow down. 

Why is he behaving in this manner? It makes no sense to you. 

“The flower of devotion.” He nods, breaking the silence once more and keeping his eyes straight ahead. 

You almost want to admire his profile– the gentle curve of his nose, yet you refrain. Training your eyes ahead, keeping your fingers laced in front of you. Trying to look as put together as possible at this moment. 

“Is it?” You quiz, unable to take the awkward silence anymore. He doesn’t seem to mind it. Unbothered, tucking his hands into the pockets of his loose, flowing sleep pants. 

“Of many other things, as well.” He nods, sending a slight smile at you. 

“I don’t know much about the language of flowers.” Though it feels wrong to be talking with Prince Kim so casually, you try your best. The more you give in, mayhaps the sooner he’ll bore and the faster you will be able to run from the cage. 

“Tell me your favourite, maybe I can tell you its meaning.” He pauses and you find yourself at the foot of the gazebo. He reaches out his hand, offering to help you up the small stairs of it. 

All over again you find yourself taken aback. The prince is requesting that you touch him, not for his service, but your own. He desires to help you. Is for some reason treating you like a lady. 

You don’t understand it, yet with great hesitation you oblige. You place your hand on his much larger one, allowing it to encase it. Help you up the stairs.

“I don’t know many…” You hope he cannot hear the hesitation in your tone, “Though I’ve always been fond of lilies.” You tell him, attempting to pull your hand away from his own as you reach the top. 

He doesn’t allow it, keeping your small palm tight in his own. Fear trickles in once more, circling around your heart, constricting it. 

You knew you shouldn’t have trusted him in the slightest. It is here where you shall face punishment for all the previous misdemeanours committed. White stone shall be painted with red and you will be left to your own devices to clean up the mess.

Your lungs start to take in more air, though of course you try to disguise it. Turning around to face him, to discover why he has kept you held firm, air is leaving your lungs for another reason entirely. 

He holds your hand close, examining your fingers. Tilting it back and forth, smoothing his thumb over the back of your skin. If he takes note of the little dots of red, he doesn’t make comment of it. He only curls his fingers upwards, hooking against your own. Bringing your hand up to his lips as if it was the most delicate thing on earth. Staring at them with a passion you doubt you’ve ever seen before.

“Rebirth.” His breath fans across your knuckles, slowly lowering to place a gentle kiss against the skin. His lips are soft, so gentle against your weary flesh. So full of safety, so full of song.

When he retracts, he pulls away no more than a millimeter, though his grip tightens. 

“Purity.”

Your first meeting with the prince had left you with a flurry of emotions, none of which you could hope to syphon through. For hours he kept you in the gazebo, sitting with you. Talking until it appeared the sun was cresting over the horizon. 

He refused to release your hand the entire time. His fingers playing with your own, perhaps obsessed with the feeling of your tiny hand laced with his own pristine skin. Did not pay any attention the several times you tried to excuse yourself, only changing the subject of conversation to try and keep you in place.

It was strange. Confusing. You did not understand the reasoning or cause behind any of his actions. 

Well, at least until the next morning while you were scrubbing the floors. Your friend Annabell cleaning right by your side. Catching up, gossiping about the new recruits found in the manner. It is only times like these when you actually get the chance to talk, to giggle with someone meant to be your equal in both age and house status. 

The only chance you’re truly able to forget about the fact she is able to leave once her contract expires. But it does not matter– any small amount of spite you hold is slashed away by her kind smile. The understanding in her eyes as she treats you like just another maid set to work for the king instead of a captive. 

It is only after the 7th yawn of the morning she asks about the poorly covered bags under your eyes. You had gone to bed with the rest of the girls, there is no reason you should be so tired. You never appear to be, at least it is not shown around others.

You struggle with yourself for a moment, trying to decide whether the night before was meant to be kept as a closely guarded secret to your chest. Yet one look at your closest confidant had you spilling everything. 

The entire night– the stars, the flowers, the way he prattled on. How tight he gripped your dirty, calloused hand against his pristine soft ones. 

You feel strange speaking of it, remembering it in any way. It causes your cheeks to heat and a fury to settle below your ribs. 

It is a strange feeling, yet not an entirely unwanted one. 

Your eyes train to the floor as you spill your soul, unable to keep it in once it starts pouring out. You try to keep your tone as neutral as possible– to tell her about the night as if it was a simple news story you heard from a guard. Though, you’re unsure of your success in the matter. 

A poised laugh leaves the lips of your counter, her eyes cresting into half-moons. 

“You cannot be serious right? You tell stories.” She giggles, shaking her head before continuing her assault on the floor. 

You simply shake your own. 

“It happened, I was as shocked in the moment as you seem to be now.” She lets out a small bellow of giggles once again. 

“No, no. I believe it happened entirely. I’m only talking about the fluster of your face.” She giggles, lifting her rag and shaking it for dramatic effect. You roll your eyes, cracking a small smile.

“There is no such thing.” You laugh knowing that there is. 

“Oh my heavens. Y/n, you cannot tell me you’ve grown fond of the Prince, have you?” Her words are hushed now, much more so than before. As if someone may be listening to the conversation. 

You tense in reply, unsure of the answer yourself. The closest you’ve ever felt to fondness of another man was a stable boy a few years back. Only 17 at the time, head wrapped in romance novels that you didn’t entirely understand. He was handsome and he was kind. However just as you were starting to become closer to him, he was sent away to work at another palace. 

You had not been optimistic since then.

She takes your silence as an answer in itself. Moving towards you, gripping your shoulders and hauling you to sit on your haunches. Forcing you to look at her face as she speaks. 

“You cannot be serious.” She repeats again, hoping for any sign of doubt. All she receives is bewilderment in reply, “Y/n. You can never trust Prince Kim.” 

You sigh, “I know, Anne, I–” You’re cut off with her own voice again.

“No, not in the way you’re imagining.” She sighs, letting her hands drop from your shoulders to continue scrubbing at the floor. Making work of herself as she speaks, “The other maids don’t tell you of much, do they?” 

You can’t deny it. Your seclusion within the castle walls is only partly of your own design. 

Other maids do not feel as though they can trust you, seeing as you are full property of the crown. In their eyes, you hold not a crumb of loyalty to your own kind. Few maids speak to you like Annabell does for fear the second they say anything wrong you are going to tell the world. 

You would never, though your word is worth its weight in feathers to them.

“They don’t care for me as you do… no…” You admit, continuing to clean as well. She already knew the answer, letting out an exhale before she speaks.

“Prince Kim has a pension for… debauchery… I shall say,” She flinches at her own words, yet doesn’t know a better way to put it, “The variety in which he uses pretty words to seduce young ladies to bed with him. Royalty from other lands, general’s daughters, maids. It matters not. He likes them for the night then pretends they shall never exist again.” 

Each word she speaks sends another stab into your gut. A dull pain blooming from the same places which a swirling was forming before. 

Ah. It all makes sense now. 

“Oh.”

“He has a particular fondness for the other maids, you know. Bedding them without a second thought.” A grimace forms on your friend's lips, scrubbing harder into the already shining floors, “There is no reason to form any sort of affection for that man. It will only end with his seed inside your core and a knife in your heart.” 

Yes, everything she is saying makes perfect sense. You feel almost stupid to not see it before. Maybe you just didn’t want to see it– want to think about it in any sort of fashion. But this makes much more sense than the crown prince wanting to speak to you for any other purpose. Explains why he was acting as a true gentleman to someone so much lower than him. 

However, you find that it does not take away the cavernous pit that has formed in your gut. 

“I see, I have no desire for either.” You nod your head in understanding, not sure of what else to say. “I don’t understand why he’s taken an interest in me, though.” 

She gawks, “I don’t understand why it has taken him so long to in the first place.” She shakes her head.

“Nevertheless, it doesn’t matter. Y/n, you must promise me. You will not fall for him, nor give any part of yourself to him. He is not someone that will care for you like you deserve.” She states, blue eyes piercing icicles into your own. She is determined and will not relent until you agree.

“I do not wish to. Not after hearing all of…” You make some sort of motion with your hand, “that. Anyone would be a fool to like him.” 

You nod your head while Annabell smiles in agreement. 

“Good.” 

Those are the last words you exchange with anyone for hours. The rest of the day passed by with lightning, an endless turnstile of things to take care of. A ball was to be held soon meaning the castle would be a wreck for the next few days. Too much planning, cleaning, sewing, coordination had to take place before anyone could rest. 

Honestly, you were grateful for it. A break from thinking was much needed. As is a good night’s rest. 

You sigh, already imagining how lovely it would feel to pull off your shoes for the day. Peel the cotton off your body and replace your dress with something more comfortable. 

Oo! Hopefully enough warm water will be left for a quick bath. That would be just wonderful, your muscles would be able to unfurl. The perfect thing to lull you into a glorious sleep.

Your arms stretch over your head as you finish descending the staircase into the maid hallways. Bones in your back pop from the pressure, causing a sigh to make its way from your lungs. Your nimble fingers make their way to the ribbon holding your hair in place, untying it and allowing the tresses to fall. 

Soon you would be in the maid resting quarters– your appearance would matter not there anyway. 

You send small smiles to other staff members passing you, those that have either just woken for the night or those who still have work to do. Yet in return, each one of them just stares at you with an incredulous look. Turning and whispering to their friends as if you were not still in front of them. 

You can’t help to understand why. Those around you may not have considered you a friend, but they were never rude. Always polite when need be. It has you feeling strange, some type of nervousness as you get closer and closer to the hallway extending to the maids personal rooms. 

Rounding the corner, you discover exactly why. 

His frame looks entirely out of place standing there. A perfect, pristine picture in a hallway of drab, illuminated only by the lanterns hanging on the wall. Royal blue tunic draped on his shoulders only emphasising his status. 

He looks as though he was never meant to be here. Like a mistake was made along the cobblestone walls. No, he looks as though he is meant to be among the living. Not in your dreary, windowless life. Nothing could change that. 

You stand there frozen, a deer caught in the lanturn of a hunting party. A pounding of your heart, as well as the dark swell of your gut coming back to life. Why is he here? Why the hell does he have a bouquet of flowers?!

You wish to scream, but you don’t. You have already been caught. 

His eyes look up from where he created a small pile of dirt on the floor. His face coming alight in an instant, pushing himself to full stature from where he once leaned against the wall. Long legs making their way towards you while he suddenly has the decency to hide the bouquet behind his back. 

Annabell certainly did not mention this method of Prince Kim’s seduction. You had never seen him down here before. 

“Hi.” Is all he says once he is finally face to face with you. His face bright and youthful. Excited.

It seems all formalities have been dropped in his mind, though you refuse the notion. 

“Prince Kim.” You simply reply, lowering yourself in a curtsy. 

He pays no mind, almost pretending you never did it in the first place. Instead, he simply rocks back and forth on his heels, bouncing slightly in delight. Wanting something, unable to voice it. 

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” You ask, hoping to end the encounter swiftly to stop all of the prying eyes leering into your being. 

“I brought you something.” His eyes do not break contact with yours once and you can see his hand twitch by his side as if it wants to reach out for something. You're glad he has the decency to hold back, so you shall do the same by pretending you never saw the flowers in the first place. 

You choose not to ask yourself why he brought you a present. It must just be a trick of seduction.

“I am honoured to accept such a thing.” You send a small smile his way, something between real and fake. It seems to make him beam. 

His arm comes out from behind, holding the flowers between both of your bodies. You look down at them, shock written across your features. 

Sure, you had noted them as flowers before. But you think these may be the prettiest ones you’ve seen in your whole life. Petals of orange, white, and purple cloud in your eyes. Stomatas filled with the sweet pollen.

Lilies. All different kinds– ones you’ve never seen before.

They’re out of season, at least you think they are. How did he get these? Why is he giving them to you? Why is he trying to get the butterflies to return? Why is he trying to make your heart explode?

“Prince Kim…” You’re not sure what to say– instead gently reaching out to feel the velvet of a petal. Staring intently at their colours, unable to pull your eyes away. 

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” His voice is a husk of a whisper, as if you’re the only two in the hallway. As if other maids are not passing, as if they are not staring at the two of you.

“Yes… I… I’m not sure what to say.” It is all so hypnotic. 

“Thank you would be a good beginning, no?” His smile is soft, a light chuckle present in the tone.

You pause, tilting your head to look up at him fully– a large, real smile donning your lips.

“Yes. Thank you.” 

You feel as if you are floating, just as you would when reading those romance books in your late teen years. Like the world has stopped moving save for the prince in front of you slowly passing the flowers into your arms. 

Your hands brush against each other and you feel his fingers twitch, tightening ever so slight. Wishing to grab onto your hand just as he had done the night before. Wishing to insect every line that traces over your fresh once more.

However, he refrains. Allowing his ringed fingers to sink themselves into his pockets.

“I was just going to have them delivered. I’m not really meant to be down here, you know,” His smile is shy, “But I didn’t know your room. That, and I wanted to see you again.” 

You look down, unable to keep the eye contact he presses you for. Prince Kim is too much for you. You don’t understand how he couldn’t be too much for anyone. 

“Oh…” You’re a flush, “Thank you for saying that.” 

“It is nothing to thank me for.” He chuckles, bangs dimming the hues of his eyes, “I’m sure I bored you with all of my ramblings.” 

He did, partly, but that was more discombobulation for the situation and a sense of tiredness creeping into your bones. You shake your head quickly.

“Of course not. I had.. Fun.” Mayhaps fun isn’t the right term, yet there is no word that exactly describes your emotions of last night, nor the ones of today.

“As did I.” His lips are tight in a smile again, feet bouncing on their heels once more. He’s nervous, wants to say something again but isn’t sure how.

You’re not sure how to feel about learning what that habit means. Not sure how to feel about what any of this means. You have not had a moment alone to truly dissect what all of it is. 

“I would love to spend the night talking to you again, if you would allow me.” You don’t think you would love anything more, yet you know you would not be able to function. Would probably make a fool of yourself, too. 

“I-I think it would be best if I were to get some rest… I had not even an hour before I had to start working last night.” 

He frowns, “That’s not good for your health…” He pauses, searching your face for any signs of distress, “Then let's talk in your room. I will only stay until you sleep.” 

You pause, air drifting back into your lungs.

Ah. Right. 

The words of your friend sink in once again, breaking you out of whatever trance he had put you under. Whatever spell he laced through both of your ears to have you singing songs of praises for him and the crown. 

He wants you as a notch in a bedpost. Nothing more. It is clear as day and you are a fool to think anything other than that. This is all just a cleverly rehearsed show. You will not fall victim like your mother. 

All royalty is the same. Use use use. Beat a dead horse until it stops coughing up any sort of reprise. 

Your posture is suddenly tense, fist gripping the flowers so tight your knuckles appear white. 

How dare he think so low of you. How dare he think he might be able to fuck you for nothing. 

“Men are not allowed in the women's private quarters.” Your voice is staunch, though it is not as if he can tell nor cares. 

If he does, he doesn’t show it. 

“Ah,” The lilt is still evident in his tone, the cat playing with the mouse, “But I am not any man, am I?” His body leans a bit closer, pulling his face parallel to your own. Smirk playing on his lips. 

Beauty is a deceptive thing, isn’t it? “When I am king I’ll make it so I can see you whenever we both desire.” Something heats in your gut at those words, yet anger quells it just as fast. 

“It is a shame that you are not King yet, then.” You nod politely in his direction, trying to excuse yourself. Yet your words only seem to excite something in his eyes, lighting a fire behind them. 

“My, I didn’t know you felt that way.” He smiles coy. A flustered sensation overcomes you as you realise the double meaning behind your words. You had made it sound like you wanted him in that way when that could not be farther from the truth.

“I do not.” You state, your voice ice. Though once again, it seems that it does not pierce him. 

“There is no reason to be so cold, Y/n.” He sing songs, tapping one of his long fingers against the side of his head. 

“I am not being cold! You are just not listening.” You sigh in exasperation. Exhaustion and annoyance make you forget yourself, causing your volume to rise just as his own does. This only seems to excite him more. 

“I have heard enough.” He giggles, boyish and what others would describe as cute. Right before you’re able to argue back once again, he cuts in with his own voice once more.

“I will leave you for now. Find a pretty place for the flowers.” 

He smiles generously at you, beginning to walk away, “Have a good night. I’ll see you soon.” 

In your shamble of a disposition, you’re left stuck there. Staring at his back as he retreats down the hallway. 

The shock of everything that had just transpired coming over you all at once. How poorly you had behaved. How you spoke to him. He could have you killed for any one of those things however instead he left you with a bouquet of flowers and a promise for another night. 

You scramble to find yourself, to move yourself from out of the eyeline of every other maid. To make your way to your room, your one sanctuary as quickly as possible. 

It is only when you’re in those walls, hard oak door shut firmly beside you that you have to remind yourself of your promise to your best friend. Remember that the prince fights his battles with words and emotions. 

Your second meeting with the man had left you even more confused than the first. Thousands of questions and emotions real through your bones at a pace your brain can’t manage to understand. Leaves you fuming, trying to form a single coherent thought as you analyse the last two nights with a ferocity unimagined. 

In your state, however, you neglect to think of the one question that should be dancing before you, held on a string just out of reach. 

Why did he know your name? 

It is apparent that since that night, Prince Kim has located which room you find habitance in. 

This morning, another letter has found itself slipped under the base of your door. They have become commonplace now– letters detailing apologies for why he was unable to visit, what he had gone about on his day, his regrets that he has not heard back from you in what feels like ages. 

He’s tried to speak to you a few times in the palace when you work. His eyes always trained on you with something you’re unable to describe when you clean nearby. 

You wish you could say it was perverse in manner, but it was nothing of the sort. 

Every once and awhile you would catch a lily pinned to his breast pocket. He would send you a secret smile whenever it caught your attention. As if it was a tale meant for only the two of you to know. As if he wanted to carry a portion of you with him.

You may be naive in saying so, nor do you have much experience in the matter, but these do not feel like the actions of a man who simply wishes to find home under your dress. These feel more personal. More extravagant than anything else. 

Nevertheless, you ignore every single advance. Annabell made you promise, and it was a promise you were intent on keeping until your dying breath. 

Put the letters away in a box, never to be responded to. Avoided looking at him whenever he was near. Rushed out of rooms when it appeared he was intent on  making his war for you.

Icing out the prince is what is best. Whatever lilies he will wilt and die and you will be able to continue on with your hatred of the Kim family as well as your blood pact with the throne. 

You only wish it was that easy.

“Y/n!! Miss Y/n!!” There is a scramble outside of the door, voices hailing for your presence. You don’t know why– you’re on wash duty. Anyone, unless they’re extraordinarily new, would know that. 

The voice grows more erratic, more panicked. As if their life depends on finding you in that very moment. The other maids in the quarters send their glaces to you, urging you to go yet not one opens their mouths. 

At least one bonus of endenturing your entire life to the palace is that you have grown in rank. More than 10 years has granted you a decent position. 

A hushed sigh slips past your lips and your hands find themselves forcing the pile of sheets into the washing tub. Your hands quickly wipe away at your apron, ridding them of any moisture before pushing open the door. 

Stepping into the hallway lined with stone you notice only a single girl. Her entire form shaking as she paces the hall– panicked. Blonde curls bouncing with every step, cheeks a fluster. 

A new recruit, indeed. Celley is the name she wears. 

She had just entered with the last batch of new maids, starting at the palace no more than 2 months ago. She was a recruit you were unsure of– not having a lick of grace or balance, nor any experience with serving. But you suppose there are many reasons maids are chosen. 

You do not like to think of them.

Her feet are suddenly clamouring over to you, noticing your presence for the first time since you’ve stepped in the hallway. Her small, shaking hands grip your shoulders, holding you with all the will she seems to possess. 

“Excuse me have you seen–” She stops herself, tiny pants pausing as her eyes go wide, “Oh my days! Miss Y/n! You must hurry!” She rushes, hand gripping your wrist as she tries to pull you away. 

Though your face twists in confusion, your feet remain firm. 

“What’s the matter?” You ask, both sympathy and concern entering your frame. You can admonish her later for her lack of manners, however now, the girl seems truly frightened. Her large steel eyes looking back at you, pleading. 

“The crown prince! He’s!” She’s out of breath once again, continuing to try and urge you on.

This time, the second the word prince is muttered, you begin to follow her pace, “He’s lost his mind! He’s going on a firing spree! Locking up anyone who tries to calm him!” 

“What? Why is that? Did something happen?” You ask hushed, urging the girl to keep her voice down. Though you both are similar in age, it is apparent who has experienced this type of thing before. 

“He got into some kind of spat with his father. His instructor was fired when he tried to continue on with their lesson.” It seems she understood your message, continuing to hurry you down the halls. 

“And what am I meant to do?” 

“I-I don’t know!” She lets out a quiet yelp, pulling you closer as you exit the maid hallways and enter the palace ones, “His personal maid is away visiting family. She said to leave everything to you if something were to happen! I-I didn’t know what else to do!” 

Damn Eleanor and everything she stands for. Why the hell did she have to bring your name into this?! Shouldn’t the head maid be called in times like this?! Not you, someone who wants nothing to do with any member of the royal family. Especially the crown prince himself. Sure, there must be rumours spreading around but you had managed nearly three weeks without speaking to him!

You let out a sigh, squaring your shoulders in an attempt to appear more confident, more put together. You will do this, and you will come out victorious. Every battle before has left you victor. What is one more?

“I understand. It will be dealt with.”

The least you can gain is the idyllic picture of the prince to be shattered forever. That would be the most ideal outcome, something to truly force him out of your heart for good. You will not fall prey to him and his earthly desires. He will not win your heart. 

At least that is what you hope. 

The throne room's doors stand before you, delicate lacings of gold worth more than your entire being etched into its surface. A glittering picture for what is sure to be a bloodbath behind its contents. 

A deep inhale of warm air fills your lungs, hand pressing against the door as you force it open. Face someone you have not wanted to see nor extinguish the flames of in nearly a month. 

He stands before you, 20 paces ahead. A broken bottle in his hand as he heaves, shoulders rising and falling with the passion of ten thousand suns. The look of murder in his eyes as he stares down at a maid, her form on the ground. Bowing with as much might as she can possess, looking for any exit possible. Few other maids stand around the room, keeping their heads low, avoiding any eye contact possible. 

Though he looks like a mad man– mayhaps a god of war himself, not a single hair is out of place on his head. He is still the picture of sovereignty. And though your breath spikes, you find that you are not afraid. 

What a strange feeling it is.

The creak of the door sends single to him, has him whipping his head to face you. Anger etched into his features, a new target befalling his sight.

You stand tall, moving towards him. You will rise to the position given to you, even if it shall mean your inevitable downfall. As long as the new staff are safe.

Only, when he looks to you, no wrath is found. No anger or deceit. The second his eyes meet your own, his expression drops along with the bottle in his hands. More glass littering the floor in its wake. 

His eyes soften, his lips turning from a sneer into a gentle frown. His shoulders automatically lower, and suddenly it appears that there is no one else in the room. His legs move automatically, carrying themselves to you with such a hurried pace you would have thought he had seen a long lost friend. 

Oddly, this scares you more than when he was angered. 

You start into a bow, “Prince Kim, I’ve come in place of–” 

His arms wrap themselves around you before you can speak another word. Pulling you in, wrapping you into his scent as you're pressed against his sturdy chest. Strong arms keep you in place as he tries to make his body become one with your own. 

His face buries itself into the crook of your neck, one hand raising to tie itself in your hair. It forces you to stay in place, stay attached to him just the way he wants you to be. Allows him to inhale, breathing in all of you. Finally delving into the scent that he has been craving.

Your eyes only widen, hands staying firm at your side in shock. Heart beginning to race, head becoming lost in the soaps that only a member of a family could possibly own. 

You’re not sure what to do. How to behave. As far as you are concerned or aware, this is something that no other has had happen before. At least not so openly. Not so brazenly in front of a myriad of other people. 

But, it seems to calm him. To placate him in a way you’re not sure anyone could explain. 

You try to make a small twisting motion with your hand, try to urge everyone else to leave while they have the chance. 

They seem to take it, exiting the room as fast as possible. 

You’re sure word of this will spread throughout the castle quickly. You hope the consequences will not be dire. 

“Prince Kim–” You begin to speak after everyone has cleared out, after he holds you for what feels like a lifetime. You can’t find it in you to want him to pull away, no matter how embarrassing this seems. 

“Shh,” He quickly silences you with a gentle press of his lips to your pulse, “Let me stay like this for a moment.” 

You are unable to move. Unable to breathe after he kisses you. War could begin in that very moment and you’re not sure you would have noticed in the slightest. You are stunned into obeying his whim as he simply inhales and exhales. 

The umber in his voice only comes after a millennia, after his shoulders have completely sagged. After all the tension is removed from his body. 

“You didn’t respond to my letters.” He still doesn’t pull away, his grip on your hair tightening a fraction. 

You pause.

“I…I didn’t know where to send them.” You lie and his hand loosens. The correct answer. 

“My study. Put them under the door to my study.” He instructs like a king would. 

You’re not sure why the tone of his voice sends shocks to your gut. Pooling into something you only find in your dreams.

“But if someone were to see them–” 

“Let them.” Mumbles in your ear to you and you alone, a growl practically spiking through his voice, “I want them to know.” 

Oh. This is new. This is definitely new. This is not the same way you felt with the stable boy years ago. This has become something entirely alienating. A completely different beast. You know that now as his baritone voice sends waves straight through your gut. 

You simply nod in reply, your mouth unwilling to say anything back. The arm around your lower back grows more firm.

“Tell me where you will put your replies.” He commands into your ear. 

“Under the door to your study.” Your reply is automatic, years of answering to the kingdom evident in your tone. 

He sighs, unfurling his fingers from your locks to gently pet the top of your head, “Good girl.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead, soft as he touches you.

“Good lamb.”

You sigh, fingers deftly searching through your wardrobe for just a single pair of underwear. But once again, you turn up empty. It seems like every day that passes, another pair disappears without your knowledge. 

Perhaps one of the new girls is causing a fuss, messing up the laundry for everyone else. 

That is the only logical solution, at least. 

But logic doesn’t seem to make much sense at all anymore. You couldn’t hope to understand why few of your other belongings have come up indignant as well. 

Your favourite perfume, one of your stuffed animals, even your toothbrush! All have magically vanished from thin air over the course of the last week. 

It is too bad that you haven’t had the time to think about it, either. Preparations for the ball have been raging throughout the palace. Everyone has been on their toes, unwilling to face the wrath of the planners as they try to make everything perfect. 

You have had not one moment alone to think, either swept up in cleaning, decorating, or well… recently you and the prince have been going on walks through the garden at night. Though that doesn’t matter much. It doesn’t mean anything– just another thing he made you promise to. Claiming he wishes to spend as much time with you as he can. 

His recent fixation is trying to get you to call him by his true name. 

You would never dare, nothing is more inappropriate than such a title. It is something only his most beloved is meant to call him, and that person is certainly not you.

You try to force any thoughts of him out of your head, though it is clearly a fruitless endeavour. Especially with the dream you had the night prior. 

His hands finding themselves between your legs, touching you in a way no other has. 

You flush, quickly shaking all thoughts of the night away. 

The tea! Your tea, yes. A prescription from the doctor for this very thing.

More often than not, you wake to find a mess between your thighs. Sticky arousal between them in a perverse fashion. The region sensitive and overstimulated combined with a mess of dreams. More sexual in nature than ever before.

Embarrassed, you had turned to the only person you could trust. The palace staff’s doctor. 

She had told you it was normal– that you were simply having what she described as ‘wet-dreams’. The title alone made you feel embarrassed.

Nevertheless, she prescribed you a tea to help calm your nerves. It was meant to be passifying in nature, calming any lush desires you may have beginning to form. 

You were not sure how it functioned, however you trusted her. Found that it quelled whatever fire burned inside of your heart for the time being. 

Perhaps just a new oddity to add to your reality, you suppose. 

Finally, you find a proper set of undergarments to pull over your legs. Letting out a breath in relief now that you finally have them. 

Today is going to be busier than the last month combined– the ball is tonight. You know for a fact you will be rushed around the palace all day, fixing everything into an acute sense of perfection that only the Kim family is known for. 

You reach to spray your second favourite  perfume across your skin, only to find that the bottle has gone missing as well.

Your hairs stand on edge, a dark pit forming in your stomach.

It is all too strange for you to want to understand. 

Okay, now you’re sure Annabell must be wrong. She has to be, right? There is no other conclusion possible. 

The thoughts run through your head as you pace the small confines of your room. Thumb between your lips, biting the skin feverishly. Contemplating what it is exactly that you should do. A heavy box sitting on your bed, a letter laying next to it along with a single lily.

A month ago, you met Prince Kim in the gardens. A month ago you spoke to him all night long. A month ago he brought you flowers. He has been leaving you letters ever since. Three weeks ago he held you in his arms, made you promise to write him back. Made you promise to meet him in the gardens as many nights as you can. 

But this, you could not accept. You could not possibly think this is real. Why has he gifted you something like this?

A dress lays on your bed. The most gorgeous dress you have ever seen, in fact. Lined with crystals and gems, many layers of tulle poof from the underskirt. It must’ve cost a fortune, but it was not meant for you.  It is a dress meant for a princess, not a simple maid of the palace. Not… Not someone the prince simply wanted to bed. 

So why did it lie here, along with a lace mask and a pair of shoes. Why did it come with a note from the Prince, telling you to put it on for tonight's events? Is this why the head maid dismissed you so early?

No. You could not. You will not make a fool of yourself. You do not belong up there, dressed as a princess when you are far from the thing. That is your decision. It will be the one you stick to.

Even as hours tick past on the clock, even as you can hear the night in full swing, you stay locked in your room. Feeling the same as you did when you were a girl locked in the dungeon all those years ago. Helpless, indignant, stubborn. 

Lost in your thoughts as you try to piece together a puzzle that has several spaces missing. Feelings for the stable boy– life with him, it would have been easier than this. You’re sure of it. 

You allow yourself to imagine what life could have been like if he stayed. It would have been a cosy, peaceful. A straightforward one that didn’t leave so many questions in your head. Jungkook was always like that, spoke his mind without leaving anything to be guessed. You adored it, wished you could revel in it now. Wish you could kiss him under the cherry tree once more.

A pounding wakes you from the dream you were just beginning to weave. Loud, angry knuckles against the firm oak of your door startling you to your feet in an instant. Chills running down your spine as if your body already knew who was behind it. 

You wait too long to reply, another series of rapts following in quick succession. You’re in trouble. You’ve angered the prince in a way you’re not sure you’ll be able to find your way out of, but you have no choice. He knows your inside. You know you must face him. You must be brave.

Right before another series of knocks can echo against the walls, you finally pull the door open. 

There stands the man you knew would be there all along, sculpted like the lord had made him himself. You wish you could behold him properly, to stare at his beauty in the suit specially prepared for this night. One he asked your opinion of several times during its construction.

But you are unable to, not when his shoulders heave like a bull planning its charge. Not when his eyes are narrowed into a glare that enters your soul without consequence. Never before had you felt his anger directed at you. 

The future king would be a fearsome thing. 

“It appears you are not dead.” He states, cold and detached in a way you have never heard before. It makes you feel small, feel weak. Though by now, you know he wants an answer. He will not accept the lack of one from you anymore. 

You shift uncomfortably on your feet, “I suppose not…” 

“Then what do you suppose.” You flinch. You’re not sure.

“I– Prince Kim…” 

“Taehyung.” He interjects, though you ignore him. Only his future wife is meant to call him by that name.

“Prince Kim, I could not possibly accept this gift. You have to understand.” The way he looks at you makes you want to shrink. To appear as small as possible to placate the lion you’ve wondered into the den of. 

“I do not. You are to accept any gift I am to give you.” He is stern as if lecturing the ground beneath him. He looks massive in your tiny room, taking up much more space than you wish to grant him.

You begin to grow frustrated, annoyed. Does he have no sanity? Does he really think it is okay to play with the hearts of women so carelessly? It is disgusting. Repulsive even! You do not deserve anything like this. You begin to grow tense, grow firm like a wolf cornered. Ready to lash out with no remorse. 

That is what you are, anyway. A cornered animal with no hope to escape. 

“I won’t.” You raise your shoulders, stand taller and stare him straight in the eyes. If this will have you sent to the axe then so be it. 

He grows just as tense in reply, his lips forming a sneer as he takes a step closer towards you. 

Never before has Prince Kim been opposed like this before, you’re sure of it. The way his irises become darker is proof. 

“And why is that, lamb?” He mocks, and the fire inside of you only begins to glow brighter Of course, you’re just the lamb that's wandered into the lion's den. The lamb being prepared for meal. 

Steam clouds around your head, jaw becoming tense as you try to hold back your rage. Rage for your mother, rage for the life she was taunted into the same way the prince is trying to do to you now.

“I will not become another woman you bed and then lay waste to!” You practically shout, unable to hold back your emotions anymore. 

His nostrils flare, “Excuse me?” 

“You heard my words.” You state back, indignant, “I will not be an idiot. I will not become another woman who you use for your own pleasures!”

You hear him scoff, head turning away from you for the first time as he looks around your room. 

“You think that little of me?” His eyes make their way back to you, his face having the expression of somewhat… hurt? 

Suddenly, you’re unsure. You feel stupid all over again though you’re not entirely conscious as to why. You hurt him? How could you possibly hurt the most powerful person in the country? 

You falter in your stance, and it is obvious that he takes notice. Uses it to his advantage as he takes another step closer, makes his hand find your own. His thumb brushing soothingly over the knuckle. His hands are always so soft. 

“What else am I meant to think? I’ve heard the stories, Prince Kim.” Where once was fire lays blistering coals. Hot to the touch yet unyielding in their passion. The air in the room has changed in much the same way.

“Tell me of them.” He asks you, his voice now gentle, soft. 

It is strange, the complete change he’s had since first entering your room. Has your brain going a little haywire. Especially with the way he stares at your hands. Like they could be locked forever. 

“I…” You feel flush, embarrassed to mutter the words in front of the prince, “I’ve heard you seduce women… princesses, noblemen’s daughters, maids… the lot. Then you abandon them the next morning with your seed in their core and a knife in their heart.” 

You keep your eyes to your feet, face feeling hot by repeating the words of your friend. You refuse to look at him, you cannot take the embarrassment. 

A light chuckle leaves his lips, a hand coming up to attempt to muffle them, “Sorry, sorry.” He shakes his head, a playful glint in his eyes. You’re baring your soul to him! How dare he laugh! 

He coughs to muffle the rest of the sound, returning to the moment, “I apologise. I just had the realisation. You’re jealous of them, aren’t you lamb?” 

A mess of flutters takes up your stomach, your shoulders raising in alarm. Your lips open to try and form words, to try and deny the allegations made your way, yet you are entirely unable. 

Especially with the way he moves closer, crowds your space with such ease. Leads close to you, whispers words in your ear, voice lower than before. 

“You wish it to just be you I lay with, is that so?” You can practically hear the smile in his voice as another, more erotic chill finds its way down your spine. 

“Th-That isn’t–” You try to speak, but your voice sounds as light as air. He moves closer, arm carrying itself around your back, pulling you flush against him as he speaks sinful words. Words only for you. 

“Ah…” He sighs in relief, lips practically touching your ear once you’re finally connected to him, “You don’t like it when I go fuck your friends then come to spend my nights talking to you… writing to you… touching myself to the thought of you.” 

You cannot take it. You cannot take this, take him. Your head is spinning, clouding with the drug known as Prince Kim. Your knees feel weak, your limbs feel all too heavy. How can someone so pretty say such sinful words without a second thought. It’s too much. Far more than your poor little heart can take.

Your arms come up, press as firm as they can against his chest despite how weak they feel.

“Mmm…?” He asks in response, pulling back to look down on your face. Mock confusion spread across his features. He takes a step back, pretending to look you up and down. Like he is just playing a game of poker while all of your tells are as clear as day. 

“Or is that not what you wish?” He asks, head tilted to the side like a confused puppy, “You would like things to remain the same?” He smiles, drawing conclusions all on his own. 

He pauses, waits for you to say something, anything before continuing. But you do not, so he will keep playing this game by himself. 

“Then I shall go find someone to keep me company for the night. Mmm..” He taps his chin in contemplation, turning on his heels, meanwhile panic and dread fills every facet of your being, “What were those ones you’re friends with again? Celley? That pretty blonde? Oh, or maybe Annabell. I’m sure she would be prepared to go for a second round.” 

What? What? No, No! What is he talking about? Why is he starting to walk away?! Wait, Annabell, second time?! She has before?! 

Oh heavens, oh gods. 

“Anyway, I'll be sure to write to you after. Have a good night, dream of me.” You begin to hyperventilate as he takes one step out the door. No, he can’t leave. You don’t want him to. You don’t want him to be with anybody else. You can’t let it happen. You can’t afford such a thing! Ever! That is not where he is meant to be! 

Your body carries you before your mind does. Hand slipping out, gripping onto the back of his coat with all of the strength you can muster. Feet planted firm in your room, doing everything in your power to not let him leave.  

It is really too bad you do not see the sick smile that forms on his lips. Maybe then the pieces of the puzzle would have finally clicked in place. 

Instead he only tilts his head backwards, painting a complexion of boredom.

“N-No! I don’t want that!” You finally manage to stutter out, knuckles turning white with the strength you hold onto him. Afraid if you let go in the slightest he will pull away and disappear forever. “I don’t want you to be with other women!”

The silence that follows your confession feels a mile long. 

“Then go put on the dress.” Out of any response there could be, that certainly was not the one you were anticipating. 

“What…?” 

His chin tilts in the direction of it, urging you on, “If that is the truth, then go put on the dress.” 

“I…” You hesitate for only a moment, but scramble to motion once the prince turns to leave once again. 

You make quick paces to your bed, keeping your back to him. You feel his eyes on your back, intent on giving you no privacy to ensure you follow through on his order. 

In fact, all he does is close the door behind you. Making sure no one will be able to see in. No one will be able to watch you save for him. 

You slowly peel off the cotton of your nightgown, trying to appear brave even though his eyes are trained on your form. Even if your slip still remains on, you have never been this uncovered in front of a man before. You feel entirely bare. 

You do not look at him as you finally find your way through the tool, slipping the garment over your head with struggle, yet his face is practically predatory. 

You don’t know his plans, or what he wishes to gain. You never do. 

As the fabric settles over your hips, half of you wants to question how the size is perfect, but you refrain. Too embarrassed by everything else to even consider it an option. Your hands reach behind you to attempt to lace up the back on your own, yet another pair are already present in their place.

When did he get so close? How did he get so close without you hearing a thing? Your heartbeat must be the only sound in your ears, that must be it. 

His fingers work down your spine, tightening the dress so it fits you perfectly. Tying it off with skill you did not know he had. You feel his breath on the back of your neck. A fire begins to grow in your core. 

“I was going to present you to my father tonight.” He admits, placing a gentle kiss to the base of your neck, “The ball was meant to find my bride.” 

“Oh.” Those are the only words you can say when he is so close, arms enclosing around your waist. Pulling your back flush with his chest. 

Only words you can manage at the revelation.

“Imagine his disappointment, more so my own when the girl I had been speaking to him about did not show.” He grunts, almost as if it hurt him. Guiding your body to stand in front of the full mirror in your room. Asking– telling you to look at yourself. 

The sight is strange, yet incredible. The crown prince of the entire nation standing in your bedroom, in the maids quarters. Surrounded by squalor and chaos. Arms wrapped around a maid dressed as if she could be a queen. 

You look up at him to the best of your ability, regret plastered across your features, “Prince Kim–” 

“Taehyung.” 

“--I’m so sorry.” He does not look you in the eyes. They stay trained ahead, not straying once from the mirror. One hand rubbing small circles into the fabric covering your stomach, the other sliding to your waist.

He touches you without care, without reason. Feeling you against him for all that it is worth. 

“Actions have consequences, that is all. They can come later.” He states plainly, “For now I just wish to indulge in you.”

He brings his face down, placing it right next to yours. His hand rises, making your chin face the mirror as well. 

He forces you to make eye contact with him through it, forces you to understand each of his words clearly. 

“You’ll let me do that, won’t you?” 

You take a deep breath, gulping down all the air you can manage. You don’t think you’ve wanted anything more. 

With no more than a nod, his lips are on yours. 

Spinning you around, pressing your back against the mirror. His hands cupping your cheeks with such intensity you fear they may become etched into your skin forever. Keeping your lips closed against his own. 

His body cages you in, pressing entirely against you. Forming against you in perfect harmony, feeling two souls become one. Feeling each other fully for the first time– no pretence or public eye in the way to stop it. 

His teeth nip at your lower lip, biting in a way that has you opening them in pain. He takes the opportunity to lick his way inside, somehow pushing even closer to your body. 

Something hard presses against you and the discovery has your knees wishing to collapse. 

The prince can’t possibly be this big. He simply can’t.

The kiss has you reeling, unsure of anything. Unsure of what to do at all. It is nothing like your first kiss under the cherry tree with Jungkook. That was soft and sweet, docile as two people discover something new.

This, this is nothing of the sort. It is hungry. It is a beast that has been starved, finally getting its first meal. It is intoxicating. It is needy and desperate in a way that has your fingers trying to press themselves even deeper into the glass. It has your breath being robbed. Your lifeforce wilts away to satisfy only the prince. 

The groan he lets out as you finally give into him, finally allow him to take control of the kiss as arousal pools in your gut. It is one of the most deadly siren’s calls you think you’ve ever heard. One that would have any woman throwing themselves overboard for just a taste. 

“Finally,” He grunts, pulling no more than a millilitre away from your lips, wetness still connecting them, “My whole life I’ve been waiting for you.” He mumbles, hungrily connecting his mouth back to your own. 

Before you know it, you’re lost in the man once again. Allowing him to move you, to guide you to your bed without withdrawing from you once. Tangling your fingers into his hair, trying to make sure he doesn’t pull away. Making you drunk off of his taste, off of him. 

When he kisses you like this, you’re not sure you’ll ever be able to live without him. 

Your knees hit the frame of your bed and all of a sudden you're falling backwards onto its plush lining. Panting, trying to regain some of the air he stole from you.

For the first time you’re able to look up at him, to discover the mess that he has become. Cheeks red, lips swollen. Eyes dark and twisted with lust. Hair ruffled messily from where your fingers laid. Shoulders rising and falling with effort as he catches his breath as well. 

He looks gorgeous and you can’t help yourself hoping this will be only a sight for you forever. 

He leans down, pecking your lips once more, “I couldn’t stop myself from imagining this. Since the moment I placed an order for your dress.” 

He huffs, dropping to his knees in front of you. You sit up on your elbows, face twisted into confusion as you look down at him. 

God. It is too dangerous to look at him right now. You know that as another wave of heat runs straight to your core.

“Pushing up the future queen's skirt.” He groans, hands gaining purchase on your hips, pulling you down so your waist sits at the edge of the bed, “Letting myself have a taste of her while everyone else at the party danced.” 

O-Oh. Oh. He sees you as, oh god. 

His fingers bunch in the material of your skirt, drawing in a shaky inhale as he holds onto any drop of sanity left. 

When he sees no hesitation from you, he slowly begins to push the material up your legs. Eyes trained on your own, looking to you for any sign of discomfort. 

“Have her come undone on my tongue while no else was the wiser.” He groans as he finally comes face to face with your panty covered core. 

Your brain moves at a snail's pace, trying to keep up with every tiny movement the prince makes. Trying to process his words while your head becomes fuzzy with your own arousal. 

You feel like mush, so pliable in his grip.

His large hands slowly begin to part your thighs, to look at what he has been craving for so long when your brain catches up with you, embarrassment overcoming your being. 

“Y-You can’t! I-it is dirty to do such a thing.” At least, that is what you had been taught. Though, the look in his eyes and the growl from his throat tells you the opposite.

“You could never be dirty. No part of you could ever be.” The sound he lets out is more akin to an animal than anything else, and suddenly you feel like a schoolgirl. Flustered and embarrassed beyond anything else. 

The muscles of your thighs untense, the look on your face blushed and biting. 

“You will let me?” He asks again, and despite your embarrassment, you nod. He is going to be king… his word is rule afterall. He wishes it, so it will happen. You could not be more pleased to oblige. 

His grip on your thighs is more firm than before, blunt nails digging into soft flesh as he pries your legs apart. He lets a groan resonate from the back of his throat at the sight. Panties sticking to your center, wetness pooling just behind causing the material to almost become transparent before him. 

You did not know it was possible for a man to have such an effect on you. 

Without a second thought, he pushes the material down your thighs. His tongue licking a long stripe up your cunt, savouring the flavour for every cent it is worth. 

He moans at the taste, not wasting a second before he dives back in. Lapping against you like it is his last meal. 

A mewl leaves your lips, too many feelings crossing you at once for any of them to be worth anything. 

Embarrassment, shame, fear all vanish the moment his lips wrap around your clit, sucking against the small bundle of nerves in a manner that has your back arching against the bed. Fingertips digging into the sheets to find a second lease on life. 

You try to look down at him, to find him between all of your small pants of pleasure, however he is gone. Disappearing until the layers of fabric while he brings you sensations you never thought were possible. 

His tongue moves like it is made to pleasure only you. Taking turns flicking your clit to lowering into your center. Licking up any bit of arousal he can make out. Trailing up once again to press flat against the bundle of nerves.

All of it has your legs kicking, your breath melting. 

He is not quiet either, letting you know exactly how much he adores this. Adores the feeling of your thighs wrapped tight around his head. Adores every little sound and reaction you have to give him. Adores the taste of you on his tongue. It was only meant for him.

It feels like he has been wishing to do this far longer than you would ever know. Consuming you whole from the inside out. Causing you to become addicted, to desire him just as much as he carnally craves you.

His nails dig into the flesh of your thighs as your hips begin to rock against his face, seeking out every ounce of pleasure that he is willing to give you. Your adorable mewls and whines grow louder, peaking every time he sucks on your clit. 

A coil has begun to form in your gut, feeling as though it could snap at any second. You wish you could see him, to look at his face and see the crazed gleam in his eyes. Observe the exact look on his face as he licks your cunt. 

You try to picture it. Try to imagine the way he would look up at you from between your legs. The dark umber his eyes would become, the gentle circles he would rub into your thigh as you finally make eye contact. 

Your walls clench around his tongue, sending a new waves of whines out of your mouth. He somehow moves faster, more precisely with every movement. Like he is able to hone in on the exact things that have your thighs quivering. 

His tongue moves up, takes your small, worn clit into his mouth. Alternating between sucking against it, flicking at it, and pressing against it firm with the flat of his tongue. 

Without warning, nor any reprise, one of his thick fingers is thrust into your wet heat. Filling you in a way you have never been able to do to yourself. Stretching you. And all of a sudden, you’re flying off the edge of a precipice.

“Prince Kim!” Your back arches off of the bed, head thrown back against the mattress as you let out a moan. Your hips jolt, cunt squeezing around his fingers, heels digging into the floor as you come undone before him. 

He works you through it with ease and grace, finger slowly thrusting in and out. Tongue firmly planted against your clit to ride you through your high. 

It would not be your last of the night. He must be gentle. 

Slowly, you relax against the bed, chest heaving from exertion. He pulls away from you, standing to full height before leaning over your shaking form. 

Your arousal coats his face, a sheen from his lips and chin evident against the soft yellow glow of the room. He looks down at you, concern and adoration written across his features. Though in his eyes, it appears that the beast has yet to be quelled. 

He leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. You taste yourself against them. 

“You are delicious. I wish to eat you every night until I die.” He mumbles against your lips, his knee sliding between your legs. Muscle pressing against your swollen cunt. 

You try to flinch away, yet the hand on your hip keeps you in place. 

He will not have you running away. 

Not now. 

Your cheeks flush at his words, wide eyes looking up at him like he is all that matters. 

He is. 

He presses his knee further against your pussy while his lips trail down the column of your neck. Urging you towards the headboard with no words spoken until your head is against the pillows. 

Your arms wind their way around his neck, keeping him in place, “I-if we were married, I would let you.” You manage to speak, your voice shaky.

He only smiles in reply. Fingers digging deeper into your waist as if he is holding himself back.

“Then we shall call this practice for our wedding night.” He smiles, sitting back on his heels. 

Marriage, wedding night. You allow the thought to ghost through your mind, willing it to be reality. 

He smiles down at you, taking note in the way you seem to gleam at the idea. A small chuckle leaves his lips, you really are too cute for your own good. 

His voice is no more than a whisper, forcing you to stay enrapt, “You will let me, right?” He asks, eyes glancing down to where his pants strain against his hips, “I wish to make love to my future wife.”

Your mouth practically waters at the sight, his hard cock pressed taught against the expensive material. You swear there may even be a wet spot where his cum has leaked through. 

Your pussy clenches, wanting nothing more for him to find his way inside. For him to claim you for himself. Destroy you so no other man can have you in the same way.

You struggle against yourself for no more than a moment, but the way his hand reaches down, grips at his cock. Brushes his thumb over the surface has you moaning in want. 

“Please.” 

He smiles, the motion following swift. All at once his hands unbutton his pants, pushing the material down his thighs just enough for his cock to spring free. He groans at the feeling, thick length hitting his stomach. Pretty pre-cum dripping down the side.

Your eyes go wide. If you imagined him to be large before, seeing it now looked impossible. He is thick, long. Far too big to ever hope to fit inside of you. 

But the desperate groan in his voice, the hungry look in his eyes only has you spreading your legs. Wishing nothing more than for him to destroy you.

One hand wraps around the base as he moves closer, the other forcing the skirt of your dress as high as it will allow. He makes space for himself in between your thighs, slotting himself in. Ready to do what he has been waiting years for. 

Not yet.

He sees the hesitation in your eyes, the worry. So he leans down, planting a gentle, soothing kiss to your lips. One filled with years of time behind it. 

He knows he must be careful with you. Knows all of his patience will have been worth it when he is finally able to take your virginity. 

“Will it hurt?” You as quietly, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to keep him close. You find comfort in him. Find a sense of safety within his eyes. 

He nods in response, “Only for a little while, I promise.” He mumbles against your lips, placing a soft kiss against them once more. 

He slowly rubs the fat head between your folds, coating himself in your arousal. Your hips buck slightly in response, and he can’t help but smirk. 

So sensitive. So ready for him. 

As much as he wants to be rough, he can’t. He can’t scare you away just yet. 

He looks into your eyes once more, “Ready?” He asks, giving you one final chance to back out. You only nod your head, pulling him close, hiding your face in his neck. 

His head catches on your opening with the final drag of his length through your lips. His hands practically shake in excitement, as he guides himself inside. Letting go only once the tip is buried within your walls. 

He feels your teeth sink into his coat, your body burning with the stretch of him. He only has the first inch inside, yet you think it is more than you could possibly take. 

A choked cry leaves your lips as he continues to slowly thrust inside. Your arms cling to him as tight as possible. Tears prick in the corner of your eyes as he fills you, forming your entire body just around him. Just around his cock. 

He pauses only once half of his cock is buried in your needy cunt. You feel his hand come up to caress your cheek, to bring you back down to reality from the pain you feel digging at your core. Trying to bring you some sense of comfort. 

You pull back from his shoulder to look him in the eyes, expecting to see them soft. Filled with concern. Though there is nothing of the sort there. 

Behind his bangs is only the look of pure insanity. 

Though he tries to be compassionate, he really does.

“Are you doing okay?” His voice is strangled, coming out in only desperate cracks. He shakes, wanting nothing more than to fuck himself inside. Fuck himself deeper and deeper, until your cunt is shaped for his cock alone.

But he holds restraint. Just enough.

The way he looks at you, the way he speaks has a wave of pleasure rushing through your  skin. Your walls clamp around him, tightening even more. 

He is falling apart before you, because of you. 

He has gone mad because of you.

The feeling only makes you want to urge him on. See just how far the prince can fall.

You nod your head, looking at him with all the affections in the world, “Don’t stop.” 

He groans at your words, mind losing itself as he snaps his hips forward, forcing his cock inside until his hips are firm against your own. Teeth digging into the fragile skin of your neck.

You cry out in pain, your walls squeezing around him in shock. Pain coursing through your entire system as you are filled to the brim. Walls stretched as wide as humanly possible. The head of cock so deep inside you swear you can feel it in your lungs. 

“Shit.” He groans, mouth falling open, “This pretty thing is wrapped around me so tight, lamb. So fucking tight I can’t think.” 

He slowly tries to move his hips, though you only shout in response. Your legs wrap around his back, doing their utmost to keep him in place.

“Hurts!” You whine, shaking your head quickly. 

Fucking hell. What is the point of a pussy as sweet as your own if he can’t use it properly?

His hand moves between your legs, growl of impatience slipping past his lips as his fingers find your clit. They work with urgency, with need. Rubbing tight circles into it, trying to get you to feel the same pleasure he does.

You whine, overstimulated. Shots fired in all directions leaving you messy and confused. 

With every circle, a mewl sounds from your throat. Slowly your legs behind him loosen, the pain from before mixing with pleasure to become something wonderful. Something that has you whimpering for him to not stop. 

“See?” He grunts, slowly slipping out of your heat until only the tip remains, “We were made for each other.” 

He forces his cock back inside, fucking you open just for him. Only ever for him. 

Your nails dig into his back, heels digging into the mattress as you moan for him. As your cunt becomes addicted to the feeling of him filling you so perfectly. Addicted to everything he has to offer.

He moves too fast, too hard for you to even hope to keep up with. Hips pistoning into you, forcing you to take everything he has to give and more. Forcing you to be the perfect little doll for him, give him all the pleasure he can want and more. White mixing with red around the base of his cock.

Your back arches off the mattress to try and get closer to him, to try and keep up with him in any hope of the sentiment. Hips trying their best to keep him as close and as deep as possible, knowing they crave one thing and one thing alone.

“Prince Kim!” You moan, yet he growls in response. A sharp slap to your thigh sounds throughout the room as his hips pause, fingers removing themselves from your clit. 

“That isn’t my name to you anymore.” His voice is low, menacing in your ear. One more poke of the bear and you will be punished. “Tae–Hyung.” 

He emphasises the words with a sharp thrust of his hips, one that brushes against the bundle inside of you. One that leaves you crying out for him. Clinging on to him. 

“Say it.” He grunts, animalistic and desperate. Yet you’re too lost in yourself to realise how debauched he’s become. Looking less and less like a man, more like a demon come to lay waste to your soul. 

That is close enough to the truth, anyway.

“Say it until it becomes the only word you know. Every question I ask, every time I fuck myself into this sweet little cunt. Your only reply should be my name.” He grabs your chin, forcing you to stare at him. 

Your fucked out little features as you bob your head in compliance.

“I-I” You swallow, trying to understand his words as he pounds away at your core, “I understand!” 

He smiles, almost proud of the work he has done today.

His hips only move impossibly faster, impossibly harder in a way that has that knot in your gut tightening once more. 

“We’ll start simple then. What is my name?” He asks, angling his hips to press against your sweet spot with ever slight movement. Breathe panting, his mind falling deeper and deeper into the thralls of your body. 

“P-Prin–” You stop yourself, a pinch coming down on your skin, “Taehyung!” 

He groans, almost coming undone as he hears your name fall from your  lips for the very first time. The pretty sound your voice makes with every letter. 

It could be the only thing he hears for the rest of his life.

“Who are you going to marry?” 

You whine, your head thrashing around slightly. He smiles. You must really enjoy the idea of that, huh?

“T-Taehyung!” You manage to stutter out again, feeling your release coming closer and closer as the seconds pass by. 

“Who is the man you have fallen for?” The answer to the question is easy, especially when he is fucking into you like you’re the only woman that matters. Nothing matters except for him. 

“Taehyung!” Your brain is too fuzzy to process anything else. Anything other than the way his cock fills you. Anything other than the one word he told you is your gospel. 

“Who is the boy that kissed you under the cherry tree?” You don’t even know anymore. 

Does any man exist beside Taehyung anyway? You doubt it.

“Taehyung!” He smiles into your neck. 

“Who was the boy that was going to have you killed? That saved your life?” His words don’t process through your ears, yet you know what you are meant to say anyway.

“Taehyung!” He groans, his hips stuttering, losing their pace ever so slightly. 

“Who do you belong to?” 

“Taehyung!” You whine, your thighs shaking. The coil so tight you think you may just die if it doesn’t come undone in this very moment. 

His breath is quiet, only a rough whisper in your ear, “Cum.” 

Just as your king commands, you fall apart around him. White dots in the corner of your eyes as you clamp down around him, your legs pulling him close. A cry of his name leaving your lungs as if it is the very air you breathe. 

You feel him paint the inside of your walls white, his hips stuttering– fucking himself as deep into you as he could possibly manage. If you had any sense left in your little head you would have told him to pull out, yet your brain is so high. Filled with pleasure that only Taehyung can provide. 

Waves of arousal crash around you as he slows his hips, ensuring that you ride out your orgasm to its fullest before pulling away. You wish he could stay buried inside of you, just like that. Yet you doubt that would be very wise. 

“Was that good for you, little lamb?” He asks, slowly helping you into a sit. You’re not sure how to properly answer– mouth feeling dry. Your head has not yet come crashing back down, though that is probably a good thing. 

Facing reality is too scary right now. Especially when Taehyung is so warm. So caring as he removes your dress. Slips your nightgown back over your soiled body. 

“Very…” You nod, unable to take your eyes off of him as he moves around the bed. Tucking himself back into his pants, removing his shirt and dress-coat. Placing them over the back of a chair. Neatly hanging the dress on a hook, taking care that it is not damaged in any way.

Your arms find themselves reaching out to him, trying to pull him closer to you. He smiles once he takes notice.

“Would you like me to stay the night?” It is clear he was already planning on it, but hearing the words make you smile oh-so bright. 

“Yes, please.” You nod quickly, eyes already feeling tired. You did not know how he had so much energy, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. Right now he is meant to be in your bed, arms around you. In fact, you become annoyed that he isn’t already. 

“Alright.” He smiles, slipping next to your form. Wrapping his arms around you, pulling you as close as possible.

You feel so safe. So warm with him. So protected that you can’t stop yourself from falling asleep.

“Goodnight my lamb.”

The Kim Empire. 

His home, his family, his livelihood all wrapped up in those three little words.

Yet, the only thoughts that seem to brandish his mind since the young age of 15 are about you. 

When you first stumbled in front of him, carrying a tray of tea. Spilling it all over his shoes. That quick curse that left your lips before looking up at him. The wide, doelike vision you had once recognition had set in. One the realisation of error set into your bones.

He will never forget the way his heart began to race in that very moment. The way he felt a cloth of sickness overcome his whole body at the mere sight of you. Looking so serendipitous below him.

At first he thought it was hate, how silly he had been back then. Ah, the way he sent you to be killed was just funny to him now. He is grateful he talked to his mother before your execution date. Spilling his soul to her, detailing how he could not seem to remove you from his brain.

Ah, he was lucky he managed to get the letter to the executioner in time. What a pity that would be if he couldn’t. Then he wouldn’t have been able to lay next to you now. Wouldn’t be able to play with your hair, caress you like he pleases. 

It is truly too bad that was not his only trial on the road towards you. It was really a pity he had to send Jungkook away. Taehyung quite liked the kid. He was fun to play with and wouldn’t shy away from his games. 

But he just had to try and seduce you. Poor thing. You really were too innocent at the time. More than eager to kiss him for no reason. To give him even a peace of your heart that was meant for Taehyung alone.

He remembers as clear as day, the rage he felt as he watched your soft lips press against another mans. How terribly he wanted to go out and strike Jungkook with a sword. Of course he didn’t though, that would have scared you away. He would have hated that.

He thanks god every day he was really your first kiss, even if you didn’t know it. 

Patiences was the hardest battle of all, and he will admit, he has faltered a few times over the years. Kisses stolen while you sleep, a few of your belongings robbed to keep him satiated. Mayhaps a few trips to your room in the night. 

But who could blame him? He was a man in love. There was nothing that could stop him when he was so hungry for you. 

Ah, and then of course his father. He wanted to separate your love as well. A maid could never possibly be suited to be queen, blah blah. He doesn’t care. And at least that fight allowed him to hug you for the first time. 

God. You felt so perfect in his arms, then and now. You have always been meant for this. Meant for him.

If his father plans to keep standing in the way, he will simply have to remove him from the equation. His bonds to the man are as thick as water. He cares more for you than he possibly could anyone else.

You’ve belonged to him since you were born, anyway. If a maid becomes pregnant while working for the castle, her child becomes property of the state. Of the crown. Of him. 

It only makes sense that you are meant to be with him until death. It is the path lined for you. Your fate since birth. 

He knows it as his delicate fingers trace over the small patches of blood dirtying the sheets. Evidence of the hours before, of your virginity robbed. Of your promises to him.

You are bound to him by blood after all.

© all rights reserved to ctrlhope 2019-2024 ; do not copy, plagiarise, or translate.

Red Like You. Red For You. (teaser)

prompt: Taehyung loves to draw nose bleeds ;)

☞ Pairing: Yandere nerd! Taehyung X Cheerleader! OC (Valentine Red) 

☞ this is just a TEASER!

☞ TW: dark themes, mention of blood-like substance, yandere. DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT!

☞ Blurb: Taehyung’s favorite colour is red. He loves red, red like the blood that drips from your bruised nose to the supple and soft flesh of your lips and lastly falling to your chin. He’ll caress your chin with a sneer. Amusement floats in his eyes as his grip on your chin tightens. He adores it when the blood leaking from your nose drips down to your lips, especially when he smears it all over your face. Your pretty face painted red. Red like love. Red like lust. Red like you. 

He loves Valentine Red. 

♡ disclaimer: this is a work of fiction, does not represent the artist in it and their behaviour!Do not repost or plagiarize my work! You’re an untalented weak imbecile if you do so :)

from the eyes of Valentine Red.

I’d always wondered how the status quo in our school really affected the pupils in it. From the emo-punk kids who sat near the school backyard listening to rock music or the art students who carried a sharpened graphite 2B pencil near their ear and drew on any possible surface which could retain pencil marks. The status quo never changed, the emo kids stayed emo, athlete jocks stayed the same (meaning head in the clouds, muscle pigs), the popular trios were just as posh as their parents wealthy black cards were. 

Of course, I was also part of the said status quo, I’d say even though I did not fit in the stereotypical bubblegum-pink-sugary cheerleader persona, i was close by. The nerds were as one would guess, nerdy. Shy, quiet and reserved. 

It was also a bit unsusal for us of different friendgroups to make acquaintances with people of other friend groups. That didn’t stop me from befriending Kim Taehyung. 

He was an unusually quiet, nerdy guy who sat beside me in calculus class. His round black rimmed glasses sat far away from the bridge of his nose and close to the tip of it as he lost himself in solving yet another equation. Although, he, for an unknown reason ditched his nerdy group of friends to sit beside me all this semester, I didn’t mind. He was soft-spoken, a deep but gentle curve to his words as he spoke in heavy english. His oversized sweaters were a few sizes too big to be considered fashionable but he managed to look adorable in them. His hair was matted, choppy bangs that covered the front of his eyes, yet he refused to trim them short. Pretty lean himself, standing a good 176 cm for a seventeen year old. 

I’d see his shadow tower over mine every time we walked back from calculus to our next class, he didn’t sit beside me then. He’d simply follow me inside the class and sit far away. 

He was never late to class, his clothes were always neat and ironed unlike his hair. 

He had an interesting juxtaposition, a neat and tidy topper student with messy hair who stuttered whenever he spoke. Without batting an eye I could tell it was him who’d sit beside me, the lingering smell of iron mixed with an oversaturation of pine wood cologne was a giver. It was an odd combination. No matter how much he’d put on that heavenly pine wood, the metallic smell beneath his clothes found their way to me. 

I never asked him about it. 

His face was always glistening, like he’d come from an intense workout every morning and after lunch too. I’d lean in closer to examine his face and the pungent smell of iron hit me again. I notice his nose was always red, like he’d constantly rub it to the point it bled. 

I never asked him about it. 

I once caught him aggressively rubbing something off of his hands before art class, his skin was a vermilion red. He said it was paint. I smiled and nodded, not before taking note of the same metallic pine-wood smell. The sleeves of his white sweater was awfully muddy, red paint chipped off from the ends. I never asked him about it. 

I never asked him why he gave me an intense look when i cut my hand accidentally, use his sweater to wipe it off and never clean it. Why he didn’t interact with me outside of calc. Class or why that paint he had on his clothes often looked so strikingly similar to blood. 

Red blood like the colour of my lips, red blood like his wrists. Red blood like my name, red blood like the game he played. 

Fic release : early may ‘22

Taglist; if you want to be added to the taglist, Ask me, DM me, Comment! 

A/N: after a month over due, it’s finally here, Loves. Don’t you want Tae to love you and paint you red? He’ll make you the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. He just loves Red on red. 

@youmistme

check this out if you miss Blood Sweat and Tears Japanese MV Tae as much as I do!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Red Like You. Red For You. (teaser)

prompt: Taehyung loves to draw nose bleeds ;)

☞ Pairing: Yandere nerd! Taehyung X Cheerleader! OC (Valentine Red) 

☞ this is just a TEASER!

☞ TW: dark themes, mention of blood-like substance, yandere. DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT!

☞ Blurb: Taehyung’s favorite colour is red. He loves red, red like the blood that drips from your bruised nose to the supple and soft flesh of your lips and lastly falling to your chin. He’ll caress your chin with a sneer. Amusement floats in his eyes as his grip on your chin tightens. He adores it when the blood leaking from your nose drips down to your lips, especially when he smears it all over your face. Your pretty face painted red. Red like love. Red like lust. Red like you. 

He loves Valentine Red. 

♡ disclaimer: this is a work of fiction, does not represent the artist in it and their behaviour!Do not repost or plagiarize my work! You’re an untalented weak imbecile if you do so :)

from the eyes of Valentine Red.

I’d always wondered how the status quo in our school really affected the pupils in it. From the emo-punk kids who sat near the school backyard listening to rock music or the art students who carried a sharpened graphite 2B pencil near their ear and drew on any possible surface which could retain pencil marks. The status quo never changed, the emo kids stayed emo, athlete jocks stayed the same (meaning head in the clouds, muscle pigs), the popular trios were just as posh as their parents wealthy black cards were. 

Of course, I was also part of the said status quo, I’d say even though I did not fit in the stereotypical bubblegum-pink-sugary cheerleader persona, i was close by. The nerds were as one would guess, nerdy. Shy, quiet and reserved. 

It was also a bit unsusal for us of different friendgroups to make acquaintances with people of other friend groups. That didn’t stop me from befriending Kim Taehyung. 

He was an unusually quiet, nerdy guy who sat beside me in calculus class. His round black rimmed glasses sat far away from the bridge of his nose and close to the tip of it as he lost himself in solving yet another equation. Although, he, for an unknown reason ditched his nerdy group of friends to sit beside me all this semester, I didn’t mind. He was soft-spoken, a deep but gentle curve to his words as he spoke in heavy english. His oversized sweaters were a few sizes too big to be considered fashionable but he managed to look adorable in them. His hair was matted, choppy bangs that covered the front of his eyes, yet he refused to trim them short. Pretty lean himself, standing a good 176 cm for a seventeen year old. 

I’d see his shadow tower over mine every time we walked back from calculus to our next class, he didn’t sit beside me then. He’d simply follow me inside the class and sit far away. 

He was never late to class, his clothes were always neat and ironed unlike his hair. 

He had an interesting juxtaposition, a neat and tidy topper student with messy hair who stuttered whenever he spoke. Without batting an eye I could tell it was him who’d sit beside me, the lingering smell of iron mixed with an oversaturation of pine wood cologne was a giver. It was an odd combination. No matter how much he’d put on that heavenly pine wood, the metallic smell beneath his clothes found their way to me. 

I never asked him about it. 

His face was always glistening, like he’d come from an intense workout every morning and after lunch too. I’d lean in closer to examine his face and the pungent smell of iron hit me again. I notice his nose was always red, like he’d constantly rub it to the point it bled. 

I never asked him about it. 

I once caught him aggressively rubbing something off of his hands before art class, his skin was a vermilion red. He said it was paint. I smiled and nodded, not before taking note of the same metallic pine-wood smell. The sleeves of his white sweater was awfully muddy, red paint chipped off from the ends. I never asked him about it. 

I never asked him why he gave me an intense look when i cut my hand accidentally, use his sweater to wipe it off and never clean it. Why he didn’t interact with me outside of calc. Class or why that paint he had on his clothes often looked so strikingly similar to blood. 

Red blood like the colour of my lips, red blood like his wrists. Red blood like my name, red blood like the game he played. 

Fic release : April end ‘22 to early may ‘22

Taglist; if you want to be added to the taglist, Ask me, DM me, Comment! 

A/N: after a month over due, it’s finally here, Loves. Don’t you want Tae to love you and paint you red? He’ll make you the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. He just loves Red on red. 

@youmistme

the phantom | yandere!taehyung au

SECOND INSTALLMENT | HALLOWEEN YANDERE SERIES

pairing: yandere!taehyung x reader (f)

genre: yandere, slight horror

warnings: mature themes, obsessive & unhealthy behavior, tormenting, stalking, paranormal themes, parallel universe / time travel , graphic language, violent themes (TW: mentions of suicide)

word count: 8.1k

tag list: @rkuqu​

Synopsis: Spending Halloween serving preteens greasy popcorn and cleaning spilled soda off the carpets isn’t what you had in mind for a fun night. But lucky for you, your night is about to get real interesting when a series of unfortunate events start occurring throughout the movie theater and your soon to uncover the horrifying curse that surrounds your part-time job.

Based on the Disney classic;  Phantom of the Megaplex

You hand over the two red slushies to the couple over the counter alongside a tray of nachos.

“Enjoy the movie.” You say as they gather their food and swiftly make their way down the long dimly lit movie theater hallway.

The young girl sitting on one of the benches outside the restroom entrances gave you a harsh glare. Her arms were tightly crossed and if you were being honest , her attempts at looking even the least bit intimidating were humorous. She looked severely constipated more than anything.

“You’re not seeing the movie no matter how much you grind those little cavity filled teeth of yours. “ You deadpan to your sister who only further scowls.

“Did you just see those two nerds who went inside? The guy looked like he was about to vomit over his food.” Yulhee exclaimed referring to the guy who had indeed been shaking slightly when you had given him his drinks , you figured he was on a first date or was just severely afraid of horror films.

“The guy was clearly of age. Something you’re not, now you can either go to the arcade like I first told you to or you can sit there and shut up.” You snapped, not needing the added stress of your little sister’s incoming tantrum.

The night was already a disaster. It was the 90th anniversary of the famous horror film from the 1930’s Phantom starring the deceased actor Kim Taehyung. A known legend among horror film fanatics and to make things even more chaotic, this movie theatre was located in his hometown.

And of course it all happened to fall on Halloween night.

Keep reading

i reread thisnafter sooo many years and its just as good as i remember it!!! the twists the reveals its all so perfectly planned, the fact that jimin and tae are both evil like none of them are good at all😭😭 and poor oc just going to fall for it again (i dont blame her) and ik its been a few years but i wish there are drabbles with tae and baby like i wanna see how he treats his baby!! just soft and cute moments 🥹🥹

The Good Boy - Epilogue | KTH

⌖ Pairing: f reader x taehyung featuring Jimin ⌖ Rating: 18+M  Words: 8.6k ⌖ Genre: Librarian!Taehyung, Yandere!Taehyung/Obsessive!Taehyung ⌖ Warnings: smut, mentions of mental health, fighting scene, mentions of wanting to get rid of a pregnancy, secrets, lying, manipulation, mentions of rehabilitation, unprotected sex (safety first kids), mentions of birth control, biting, sucking, aggressive make-out session, teasing, mentions of sexual experimenting/ kissing, ambiguous relationship and feelings. ⌖ Summary: As the saying goes, never judge a book by its cover, but when you find yourself falling for the new employee at work, you throw caution to the wind, letting temptation lead you down a spiraling path of deception.

A/N: As with any yandere fic, if you are easily triggered, please do not read.

“This is nice, just you and me like old times. Remember all the days we spent at school together?” Jimin smiled as he handed Taehyung another beer. It had already been a good thirty minutes and Taehyung wasn’t feeling any less at ease. He knew Jimin, too well. And although everything seemed to be going great, whenever Jimin wanted something, he laid on the charm extra heavy.

“Yeah. So…why are you here, Jimin? Why are you really here?”

Keep reading

The Good Boy- pt. 1 | KTH

⌖ Pairing: f reader x taehyung ⌖ Rating: 18+M  Words: 2.6k ⌖ Genre: Librarian!Taehyung, Yandere!Taehyung/Obsessive!Taehyung ⌖ Warnings: heavy flirting, unexpected advances, pining. ⌖ Summary: As the saying goes, never judge a book by its cover, but when you find yourself falling for the new employee at work, you throw caution to the wind, letting temptation lead you down a spiraling path of deception.

Nothing new ever happened, nothing ever changed. Adjusting the lanyard around your neck, you sigh heavily at the boredom you couldn’t escape. Working at a library had its perks, but other times there was absolutely nothing to look forward to. You continue to sort the books on philosophy, applying your knowledge of the classification system in order to shelve them correctly. It’s a tedious task, but one that was completely necessary. No one else paid attention to such details like you did, and so you continue working on the menial task, wasting away your youth, never faltering how you line them up perfectly. Everything was peaceful and quiet until your friend Cici materialized out of nowhere.

Keep reading

The Good Boy- pt. 3 | KTH

⌖ Pairing: f reader x taehyung ⌖ Rating: 18+M  Words: 4.4k ⌖ Genre: Librarian!Taehyung, Yandere!Taehyung/Obsessive!Taehyung ⌖ Warnings: smut, gas-lighting, manipulation, teasing, thigh humping, mentions of alcohol, mentions of being buzzed, rough kissing, possessive themes, mommy kink, mentions of inappropriate relationship, mentions of past trauma, semi-public sex. ⌖ Summary: As the saying goes, never judge a book by its cover, but when you find yourself falling for the new employee at work, you throw caution to the wind, letting temptation lead you down a spiraling path of deception.

**Italics are past events***

You hide the next day, and into the rest of the week as well. You couldn’t face him, not after what you had done. Even Cici called you non-stop wondering where the hell you’ve been. You had texted her letting her know that everything was alright, but the truth was you were way too deep in your head.  

Keep reading

BTS Yandere React to Meeting You for the First Time (Maknae)

Warning: Mentions of Murder, Rape and Human Trafficking

Jimin

You just had a good time at a birthday party for you friend, but you decide to call it a night and walk home. Damn it was chilly, you curse yourself silently for having decided to wear a short black skirt and a red crop with some random beat up sneakers (Just in case you had to square a bitch up, you never know what could possibly happen).

It was extremely dark, which causes you to fasten your pace though you have walked in the dark multiple times you still never knew what could happen at a day like this.

Solely because it’s been all over the news about young people like you being murdered or raped in horrific ways. Hence, causing plenty of people especially parents on edge as you never know one day you would get the knock on the door with the police informing of your child’s death.

As I’m walking home I suddenly hear a distant noise taking place in the background, not really paying attention to it, I think it’s best that my pace of walking should speed up.

Before I know it someone lunges at me for my bag asking me to hand it over I put up a fight screaming for help.

Everything happened so quickly and before I knew it I was in a police car.

Jimin: Hi I’m officer Park, but you can call me Jimin. What is your name?

Y/N: My name.... Y/N

Jimin: Well Y/N you took quite a hit to the head but don’t worry your bag is still intact and the scoundrel didn’t take anything belonging of you. Do you want me to take you to the hospital just to have you checked out.

Y/N: No.... no I just wanna go home

Jimin: I’ll offer to take you there it’s quite dark and I don’t want you getting into any harm

Y/N: Thank you

Oh bless her! I’ve been watching you for a very long time Y/N and you going out at a time like this was perfect. However, I didn’t intend for you to get hurt so that bastard I hired is going to get it when I see him expecting to be paid. He’ll get more than a pay check, I assure you that Y/N

Taehyung

Around me there have always been beautiful things and ugly things. Although, you could turn those ugly things at a weird angle and make it beautiful thats the loophole within beauty is that it’s constantly changing 24/7. Just like us human being we’re just temporary existent creatures that never last long. That’s why on earth it is our job to make our existent feel permanent, kind off like leaving your mark in this world.

Hence, I’m a photographer and a artist. I love both topics finding muses around the world and working of the beauty, but they all go eventually no matter what I do. So when one leaves, they’ll leave in a spectacular manner (buried six foot under and to never be heard of again).

But you..... you are just perfect.

Your body. Your hair. Your eyes. Your face. Your everything.

I will be making mine.

My body. My hair. My eyes. My face. MY EVERYTHING.

Taehyung: Your perfect Y/N keeping looking at the camera just like that

She gives me a submissive yet elegant look

Y/N: Like this

Taehyung: Yes amazing, just like that

I continue to take the shots of this beautiful being. only I’ve found her earlier, the things I would’ve done to her. Mhmmmm.

I’m feeling horny just thinking about it.

Taehyung: There we are all done

Y/N: That’s great can I look at some of the shots of course

Taehyung: Of course

We go over a couple of shots, my favourite one is where she has a mouth partly open and her doll like bambi eyes are staring striaght at the camera with long black messy hair.

Taehyung: I was wondering Y/N, if it was ok for me to ask this but I’m making a new painting and I need a model

Y/N: Yeah, what about it?

Taehyung: It’s a nude painting and ...... I was wondering if you would model for me

Y/N: Of Course, I would be crazy to let an opportunity like this down

Oh my sweet fame-hungry Y/N, I hope you stay forever compared to all the others. And if you don’t than I’ll make YOU STAY PERMANENTLY.

Jungkook

Being a new mafia leader meant that he was a man to be feared by the public as no one knew what he was capable of. Drugs, prostitution, murder and many more.

His father decided to take him to a human trafficking auction and place a bid on any girl he wanted to be his wife. Of course that would be a great story to tell the children one day on how mommy and daddy met.

As every girl he saw was purchased he didn’t make a single bid on for any of them, until he saw YOU.

A beauty is what you were, tall, skinny and a face of a goddess and only he knows he’ll treat you like one. Unlike all these other men, who’ll just abuse you and want you only for one thing.

Jungkook: Father I want her

He informs his father and the bidding process is intense as everyone was told you were a virgin, but it ended at you being sold for 1 million pounds. And your owner was Jungkook.

You are placed into a room to meet him, as you are now his, no longer being able to be your own person you have to do as he says from now on.

Jungkook enters the room.

Jungkook: My oh my..... look at you

You turn to see his face.

And what you saw was so old fat rich pervert, but a young handsome man staring right back at you with dark brown chocolate eyes.

Jungkook: You may possibly be wondering who I am, I’m going to be your husband

You were silent. In shock.

Jungkook: Now I want you to know this, there are a few rules you have to follow and if you break them. Trust me, you won’t like the consequences.

BTS Yandere Forcing You to Quit Your Work (Maknae Line)

Jimin

Jimin hated you working and that was from the very begging of your relationship, which of course would always put you in a foul mood whenever he mentioned your work. He always said it was ‘dangerous’, and that he’s just trying to protective his girlfriend and you should be greatful.

You worked behind a bar at a nightclub, just to make sure you you were able to pay the bills, whilst you were studying as your parents had passed away leaving a very little inheritance for you to obtain. Even though, Jimin mentioned that you could come and move in with him, you thought it would be too soon the two of you have only been dating for six months.

It would be way too early too move in with him, despite the fact that your relationship is moving quite fast.

However, there was a horrible incident that happens to another nightclub not to far from where you work, which had caused many people to have sustained severe injuries and trauma and a few others dead. Ever since then, Jimin would refuse you to go to work.

Jimin: Why do you want to go back to work? Do you even pay attention to the news or to what I say?

Y/N: Because I have bills to pay and my tuition fees

Jimin: Your point is....

Y/N: Well I need to make a living to live in this house

Jimin: Just move in with me, quit your job and I’ll pay for your university fees

Y/N: Bu-

Jimin: No ‘buts’ Y/N, I will only say this once. DO AS I SAY OR YOU WONT LIKE THE CONSEQUENCES

Taehyung

You and Taehyung have been dating for a year and it’s been a bit of a rollercoaster, mainly for you and him... well everything is all rainbows and sunshine, he couldn’t find a single thing wrong. But you... you could point a couple.

Taehyung hates the fact that you worked with other photographers and artists, he thinks that you should be only working with him, your his muse, his inspiration, HIS.

But once Taehyung found you on the cover of a front magazine nude, he went ballistic throwing things round the house screaming your name to come down the stairs. And by the looks of it, you really didn’t want to come down because you began to drag urself down the stairs to the living room to see what was wrong this time.

Taehyung: Y/N! WHAT IS THIS?

Y/N: it’s my photo shoot and you don’t have to scream I’m in the same room as you

Taehyung: WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME ABOUT THIS?

Y/N: Because it isn’t a big deal

Taehyung: NOT A BIG DEAL, NOT A BIG DEAL ARE YOU STUPID? ARE YOU ACTUALLY FUCKING STUPID YOU, SLUTTY BITCH

Y/N: DON’T YOU DARE TALK TO ME LIKE THAT!

Taehyung triply grabs your neck holding it tight.

Taehyung: LISTEN YOU FUCKING WHORE, YOUR BODY IS MINE, FACE MINE, ASS MINE, TITS MINE, CUNT MINE NO ONE ELSES AND IF I FIND OUT YOU DID ANOTHER PHOTOSHOOT OR WORKED WITH ANYONE ELSE BUT ME I’LL GIVE YOU SOME FUCKING SHOTS THAT YOU WILL REMEMBER

Jungkook

Ever since Jungkook brought you, you were allowed outside the house even to the garden. The ring on your finger represented that you belonged to him and nobody else and if you objected sever consequences would take place.

If you have dared to even mention to you working or having a job, he will immediately yell at you saying you don’t have to work as being the Mafia boss wife all you had to do was stay at home and look pretty. JUST STAY AT HOME. You couldn’t anything else but that, which is extremely boring.

So today you’ve decided to help the maids with the chores round the house, that Jungkook normally doesn’t like you to do that’s why you have maids for a reason.

You decide to help the maid cleaning yours and Jungkook shared bedroom, but little did you know that Jungkook came home early expecting to see you on the staircase waiting for him, but he saw you cleaning.

Jungkook: WHAT ARE YOU DOING

You were completely shocked and frozen in fear, you didn’t do anything wrong.

Jungkook: HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU TO JUST STAY AT HOME AND LOOK PRETTY ALL YOU HAVE TO DO IS WAIT ON THE BED NAKED READY TO GET FUCKED. AND YOU YOUR FIRED IF YOU DO JOT LEAVE THIS HOUSE WITHIN FIVE MINUTES, I WILL PERSONALLY ALLOW MY MEN TO TORTURE NOW GO

The maid scurries out the room to get out the house with tears in her eyes.

Jungkook locks the door and turns to you walking slowly with a dark look on his face.

Jungkook: Well know that we’re in our bedroom I think your ready for a nice long fun day, more fun for me than you

He pushes you down on to the bed.

BTS Yandere Finding Out Your Pregnant (Maknae Line)

Warning: Yandere Themes, Murder and Cheating

Jimin

The day you found out you were pregnant was the scariest day of your life, mainly because of your boyfriend, Jimin. He was extremely unstable and constantly worried about your health, yet he was the one who was damaging it.

Hypocritcal!

You decided to keep your mouth shut for the past couple of weeks, but without a scan to go by you presumed you only five weeks pregnant. There were many things on your mind, like how you and the baby were doing, what you need to be doing.

However, if you asked Jimin to take you to the doctors for your appointment, he would’ve bombarded you with questions. Then blame you that your at fault for your health and your sneaking out at night to go clubbing or to be with other men.

But it had to be done, either way.

It was dinner time and you both were eating whilst just talking about general stuff nothing too crazy until he mentions your weight.

Y/N: You see about that I have something to tell you

He nodded gesturing you to hurry the fuck up with what you were going to say.

Y/N: I’m pregnant

There was a pause. A long pause.

He just stared at you saying nothing, in complete utter shock.

Jimin: We are having a baby?

Y/N: Yes

After that was more silent. But deep down you knew, you knew the next day his mood would be different, be it good or bad.

Taehyung

When Taehyung found out that you were pregnant he was over the moon, he believed that you being pregnant with his child showed that he owned you every possibly way that he possibly can.

This meant your pregnancy had a lot of ups and downs mainly from him and not you. It was like he was the one who was going through the pregnancy and having the baby himself.

One minute he was happy, and than the next he was crying. He just couldn’t believe that he was going to be a dad.

He brought many things for the child, toys, clothes, shoes, even starting the nursery and has already been looking for nanny’s that he would be able to employ.

Then he would be slightly more harsh on you, he never laid a finger on you during the pregnancy, but he had always scolded you if you put the baby’s health at harm.

Taehyung: I HAVE TOLD YOU MANY TIMES NOT TOO BE RUNNING AROUND IN THE HOUSE TO YOU WANT TO SLIP AND FALL. DO YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS! WE WILL LOSE THE BABY.

Jungkook

You and Jungkook were “happily married”, well that’s what you liked to have believe. However, he would always belittle you and break your confidence down so you would become solely dependent on him.

Just like the way you do when the both of you are having sex, he is always in control and you are just a submissive doll who can’t do anything about it, but beg.

Yet, the sex you had was always unprotected and it surprised you that not once did you show any signs of pregnancy symptoms. Until one day, you were vomiting in the morning for the past three days before Jungkook went off to work. Hence, you slept in a different room to Jungkook, him not wanting to catch any disease or illness that you have obtained.

It has been a week though since you vomited and now that you have been feeling better, Jungkook had you roughly placed underneath him. And one day you over heard the conversation between him and a maid.

Jungkook: Yeah just make sure you put those pills in her drinks, she’s not worthy of carrying my child.

Damn! Is that what he thinks of his own wife. And also damn that’s why you haven’t ended up pregnant.

The maid nods, blushing. She clearly had a thing for Jungkook

Jungkook: But you... I like the looks of you a lot

He grabs her with her giggling into the guest bedroom. Clearly wanting to the fuck the life and impregnate her. It wasn’t common for the Jeons to have bastard children, but this was your husband regardless of what he did to you, a husband should love and care for their other half.

So you planned your escape leaving him a letter and a pregnancy test that you had took which ended up coming back as positive.

You packed light, taking only the few necessities and you were off with no one knowing where you had went.

When Jungkook came home back from work with a bunch of roses in his hands, he headed to the bedroom expecting you to be there ready to be fucked the living hell out of. However, that was not the case as you were not in the room.

The first thing that caught his eye was the diamond reed ding ring that was no placed on your bed with a letter and a pregnancy stick. He turned the stick over with two lines and his eyes gawked in disbelief finding out you were pregnant.

Without even reading the letter he knew you left and in an instant his eyes went dark. He went to the safe getting his walking out his room in anger screaming at every guard to find you. Whilst that was being done he found the main that he slept with, clearly knowing she might be pregnant she had a smirk on her face, but he wasn’t ready to sleep with her again and he shot her in the forehead instantly killing her.

She wasn’t the only maid that he got pregnant, so he went and found every made some ranging to a few weeks and others a couple months. And he shot them all dead.

Declaring a new rule, to only hire male maids from here on now.

And when he found you not only would he welcome you and your swollen belly back home but he would make sure that your nights were restless too.

BTS Yandere You Ask For A Divorce (Maknae Line)

Warning: Contains Abuse

Jimin

The moment you slipped the words of wanting a “divorce” to your husband, was the moment you lost any form of independence and freedom that he gave you.

You were locked in your shared bedroom, whenever he was out to work, with his friends or just whenever he was in town. But you were isolated in a bedroom with a camera recording your every move. The camera was placed in your bedroom didn’t go unnoticed, in fact you saw him set up their originally for another reason.

That reason was Jimin was away at work sometimes, wells trying to track down criminals, you would get lonely with all the sexual frustration and play with yourself. One day he caught you, and fucked you so hard that you thought your brains will fly out. However, that was not the case he claimed your body as his from that day forth.

And now your freedom (the very little you had was his).

It could have been worse as he opens the door, returning from work gazing at your sleeping form. He lays next to you cuddling you and holding you so tightly.

And whispers

Jimin: You know I don’t get why your so tired all the time. All you ever do is stay in this room, not my fault though, but the good news is your becoming more mine

Taehyung

You were pushed forward towards the ground as you enter what you’ve got to call ‘home’, with an angry Taehyung whom you don’t want to be looking at.

It all began when he let you go out with your friends because of your good behaviour, but what you didn’t know was that he was stalking you the whole entire time. The journey with your friends was a fun one, you went shopping with Taehyung’s credit card and decided to rest at a coffee shop.

You and your friend were talking, until she mentioned that you should divorce Taehyung, as you nodded in agreement stating that you would. Your husband popped up out of no where and dragged you all the way to the car with your new belongings.

Hence, you being on the cold marvel floor at the enterance of your new home.

You stare into Taehyung’s fierce stare as his eyes were staring striaght into your soul and any minute you would burst into flames.

Taehyung: I’ve just got a light bulb idea for my new piece of art

As he grabs you by the hair pulling you towards the bedroom, giving you endless hickory and bruises.

Jungkook

Divorce was out of the question as he brought you and once you mentioned it, he slapped you striaght across the face.

Jungkook: Look at me

You slowly turn your head to the side and is met with a tight slap across the face.

This action is repeated for at least ten minutes until you have his hand print branded on both sides of your cheek.

You are now a sobbing mess trying to apologise, but that doesn’t cut it for Jungkook.

Jungkook: Lets be realistic, if we did get a divorce which would never happen you need to know what posistion you will be in

He comes closer to you as he rips your clothes off you. In complete terror, your arms frail about putting up a fight, but it is hopeless you are too weak and he rips your clothes off you. Including you bra and panties.

After this he ends up taking off his belt and beats you mercilessly, with you screaming and begging for forgiveness. He ends up stopping as soon as he gets tired.

He puts his belt back on and begins to walk off and he slowly turn back looking at you.

Jungkook: This is what would happen if we had a divorce you will be nothing, but that won’t happen at all. Trust me, darling I can allow you to walk if only you obey me

nexus (m) | part 0

premise: a shocking murder prompts a corrupt detective to insert himself within your elite circle of friends. behind the bright casino lights lies a twisted web of dangerous alliances, illicit affairs, all driven by an insatiable lust for power. play your cards right and you might survive. but even if you get lucky, the house always wins

summary: in an effort to celebrate your final days as a bachelorette, you head out on the town with your best friend. amidst your shenanigans, you run into a mysterious and alluring man who knows a little too much for his own good

pairing: ot7 x reader smut ft: jungkook x reader

genre: smut pwp thriller mystery eventual yandere casino!au organizedcrime!au elite!au

wordcount: 5k

warnings: explicit smut, oral sex (m), degradation, public sex, hate sex, slowburn, sexual tension, alcohol, drugs, slapping, rough handling, spitting, choking, slight gaslighting, slut shaming, power dynamics, dom!jungkook (and he’s mean but its hot), kidnapping, blindfolding/restraints (during kidnapping), rich people doing rich people things, unedited bc im lazy ope

taglist: @raynom @gimmythatjib00ty @yoshiure @greezenini @victoryscreech61 @tbzhubrecs @namjooningelsewhere @sugarcoffeemochi @jiminie-08 @jinssexytoe @kooookie @only4sana @pinkcherrybombs @taeslarityy @natalie-rdr @mageprincess7 @hopeonysus @bibbykins @sameifnn @shadowmoon21 @juliemae80-blog​

a/n: thank you so much for your patience <3 this is a super fun, sexy mystery which is very much slow burn so stick with me ;) i hope you enjoy this, think of this like a preview, just setting up things for the real story which will begin in part 1! 

series navi | join taglist | masterlist

 ⟶ 7 days before the murder ⟵

A soft fluttering ran through your core. A longing ache, eyes fluttering open towards the man soundly asleep by your side. His rusty orange hair sprawled out, fluffed against the pillows with parted lips drooling ever so slightly. The lazy smile grew on your face, pleasant tremors soaring through your chest as you reminisced the night you had just had. Yoongi was always sure to fuck you good, through and through. 

Careful not to wake him, you slipped through the silk sheets. On your bedside table, a tiny silver spoon tilted next to spilled white powder. An empty bottle of tequila, and a few questionable looking pills.  

Grabbing a robe from your closet, you quietly crept out into the hallway. It never got old; the majestic view of the long columns by the twin marbled staircases, all leading towards the grand foyer, decked with fine art and impressive statues. The Kim manor—your home for the last ten years. 

And down the stairs you went, your bare feet clashing against the cool stone beneath them.  Heading into the kitchen, you were hardly surprised to see the fully suited man, sitting carefully at the glass table. A small bowl—concoction of who knows what—and a cup of coffee. Americano. Routine. All next to his laptop, where his eyes remained steadily focused, typing away with a rhythm. Thin-rimmed glasses on the edge of his nose.

“Good morning” You leaned over the kitchen island, taking care to ensure that your robe slid just a tad lower than appropriate. “Namjoon” 

His fingers stilled momentarily as he looked up at you, a bored expression on his face. 

“Put some fucking clothes on” Judgement written all over his face as he scanned you up and down. 

“I could,” You shrugged, opening the double-doored refrigerator, allowing the icy-cool air to send goosebumps across you. A refreshing contrast to the pent-up heat tickling between your legs. Scanning the items, you grab a bottle of Figi before kicking the door shut with the back of your calf. 

“If you promise to take them off of me later”

Namjoon folded his glasses, tucking them into the top button of his tight-fitting shirt. His pronounced pecks bleeding through the fabric. Standing up, he buttoned his blazer, before shutting the face of his laptop with the swift move of a single finger.

“He’s coming home” He informed you, watching intently as you unscrewed the water bottle and brought it to your dry lips. “Taehyung”

You choked. The water in your throat suffocating your breath. Coughing, you set the bottle back down, doubling over yourself. Namjoon simply folded his arms over his chest.

“You know what that means right?” You glared at him incredulously, lungs tight, unable to catch a breath. Of course, you knew what it meant. It had been a day you dreaded ever since you turned eighteen years old. “The engagement is being set for next week”

You could scream. You could cry. You could attempt to vocalize the billions of thoughts running rampant through your already aching head, but there was no use. The Kim family had taken you in many years ago, and never asked for anything in return. Aside from this one very thing—a promise. To wed the youngest heir of the family. Kim Taehyung. 

You might have been okay with it. Marrying into the family you adored and that treated you like their own wasn’t the worst thing. Except that you hadn’t seen Kim Taehyung in a decade, not after he left for boarding school abroad as a child—being dubbed as troublesome. Not after he allegedly decided to stay for university. Never calling, never visiting, never sending so much as a postcard. 

“I don’t want to”

His body neared yours, brushing past just briefly as he set his dishes in the sink. Your knees numbed, his mere presence making you want to fall to your knees in surrender. “Lay low this week. I’d rather not my baby brother have to see his fiancée whoring herself all over the tabloids when he arrives”

“Fuck you”

He didn’t react. He simply left you there in shock. Your whole life was about to change and it was entirely out of your hands. A bitterness swept through you—resentment building in your veins. Your fists clenched.

“Hey,” Once the door closed, you turned to see Yoongi sneakily trot his way into the kitchen. “You okay?”

Biting your lip, you shook your head. “It’s nothing. D-don’t worry about it.” Sighing, you trailed your hand up his bare chest, tracing the ridges of his abs up over the crease of his collarbone and his neck—until you cupped his cheek in your palm. 

“I’m gonna fuck you in Namjoon’s shower, come on” 

 ⟶ 6 days before the murder ⟵

Darkness. In your chest, a pulsing fear—bubbling up with the hopes of catching a breath. Only to be suffocated by the tight cloth, nipping at the edge of your lips. 

You could hardly hear. Reluctantly, you surrendered to the coarse hands that gripped your wrists, dragging you as though you were merely a sack of rice. With ease your assailant tossed you into a vehicle. The scent of fresh leather, intoxicating. 

The engine roared, vibrating through your core as you tugged at the scratchy roped binding your forearms. Fond of cars, you recognized the sweet growl of a V8 engine, and your heart steadied for a moment. 

Your family—the Kim’s—had prepared you for situations like this. Don’t talk. Don’t fight. Call me, and I’ll find you. The words came echoing back like a mantra. And yet, you were afraid. But honestly it wasn’t the current reality of you having been snatched clean off of the lone streets as you made the walk of shame, tripping over your own heels on the way home from a wild night of cocaine, dancing, and perhaps an orgy, although—truth be told—you couldn’t quite remember. The thing that scared you was the time. The time that you were losing as you were being driven off god knows where. 

Time. You chuckled bitterly to yourself. Like sand slipping from your fingers, you couldn’t afford to be kidnapped, not now. Not when in a few mere days your life was set to be collared and leashed. 

Your whole life had been bound by decisions entirely out of your hand. For the most part, the money, status, luxuries of your life made it easy not to get too caught up in the desperate dread of your existence. Your mother disappeared when you were a child, and heroically the notorious Kim family, known for their vast array of casinos, resorts and properties took you in as their own. The price of their charity being their rules. Their games.

The Kim family loved games. And you were almost certain, that this was just another one of those very games. As the car gave to a rolling halt, someone opened the door, guiding your step. They were too polite. Too kindly in their touch to truly be kidnappers. Not a hand had been lain on you. Not a cruel word spoken. You were protected, and the Kim’s did just that—they always protected you. 

You felt a sudden gush of wind, making you tremble. Last night’s party outfit was all you had keeping you decent. A tight, holographic, bralette contrasting the leather skirt at your hips. Strappy heels, dragging sharply against the rough concrete as you blindly followed in lieu of your fate. 

It was loud. Rhythmic whirring of what sounded like a plane. Was this an airport? Your palms felt clammy. Mind juggling the probability of a genuine threat versus another sick, twisted prank done by none other than—

Your blindfold loosened. Quick to adjust to the bright morning sunlight, your gaze fell upon a familiar face. The cloth in your mouth, slipping out moments later.

“Kim Seokjin, you motherfucker”

He smiled—a charming smile. One that you were so used to and yet, seeing it always made you feel elated beyond explanation. 

“Scare you?” He motioned to the men behind him, dressed head to toe in black suits, to undo the tied on your wrists. 

“No,” You glanced towards his men, “They should be more rough next time” Jin chuckled, taking your hands into his own. His eyes were sparkling with mischief, alight with excitement.

“I wanted to surprise you,” You followed him cautiously up the steps to a long and sleek black plane, adorned with his family emblem on the side in a metallic gold. He had a matching tattoo on his chest, barely covered by his halfway unbuttoned designer resort shirt. “You like it?”

“Uh, yeah”

Jin chuckled, “Good. It’s yours” Stepping into the plane, you marveled at his preparations. A flight attendant handed you both a glass of champagne as you scanned the cabin, filled with liquor, snacks, and an array of designer dresses.

You blinked rapidly. “You bought me a jet?”

“I was thinking we might take this baby for a spin” Jin turned, grinning widely. “One last weekend. You and me. What do you say? Let’s go fucking wild”

Chest glowing with warmth, you nodded, tossing yourself into his embrace. He looked down at you, the back of his palm to brushing against your face fondly. Eyes scanned over you with great interest. You knew him well enough to know exactly what motivated the gesture. He must have heard about Taehyung’s return. He wanted to get your mind off of things, knowing you’d be anxious. 

And fuck if it wasn’t the exact thing you needed, after aimlessly drinking your sorrows away with strangers in a club. 

Popping a few buttons of his collar he pulled you into your seat. You watched quietly as his wrist twisted to pop a bottle of champagne. The liquid poured, slim and smooth up to the rim. Meeting his eyes for a moment, he handed the glass to you. 

“Cheers” Raising his own glass, he touched it against yours before bringing it to his mouth. “To family”

 ⟶ 5 days before the murder ⟵

You knew Kim Seokjin better than you knew yourself. Growing up, he had always been your closest friend. And that, frankly, wasn’t always a good thing. Just as you leaned against the side of the car at your favorite nightclub, glancing over at Jin who was busy tongue twisting with a woman perched on his lap like a docile fucktoy—another by his side, whispering words that clearly pleased him. His eyes met yours briefly. Just briefly. Almost as though he was suddenly reminded of your existence. 

It was typical behavior for him, except today—today it was royally pissing you off. The thin glass in your hand shattered, gin and tonic spilling every which way. But you could care less. Brushing the shards against your deep red velour dress.

“Bit dramatic, wouldn’t you say” Turning, you gaze landed on a man dressed head to toe in black. His body was immensely impressive, broad muscular shoulders and chiseled abs bleeding through his tightfitting turtleneck. Loose chrome chain on his neck, tattoos sprawled over his fingers which aimlessly traced up and down the stem of a martini glass. 

You sneered at the stranger. “Mind your own business, asshole” He raised his eyebrows, before following your gaze to where Jin was. 

“Ah, Kim Seokjin” The man’s voice dropped, a spiteful tone lacing his words. He downed the final sip of his martini, savoring the familiar burn down his throat. The air buzzed with energy, people moving around, dancing in the heat of the night. A grin tugged lightly at his pierced lips, “So you’re the Kim family whore I’ve heard so much about”

Brows furrowed, you spun to look at him. “Excuse me?”

“I’m curious…” The man flashed a barely innocent look at you—his eyes round and tempting, almost devilish. “Y/n L/n, the Nexus heiress. Mommy goes missing but it’s okay when the Kim boys are obsessed enough with you to take you captive. Do they take turns? Take you all together?”

You slapped him clean across the face. 

Touching his tender cheek lightly, he rolled his tongue against his jaw, tilting his head with a mixture of amusement and annoyance.  

“Feisty” He scoffed, before grabbing your wrist and twisting it behind your back. With a sharp push he smashed your chest against the bar counter, causing his drink to spill over, allowing the shattered glass to pierce into your skin. His nose traces along your neck, behind your ear where he whispered naughtily, “I could see why they’d want you”

Letting you go, you jumped away from him, brushing the shards off of yourself as you wiggled your wrist. 

“Who the hell are you, and why do you know so much?”

“Jeon Jungkook” The man stated simply. He paused, smiling slightly at the way you were fuming, “Congratulations by the way…heard you’re getting engaged”

Your blood ran cold. The public didn’t know. Namjoon hadn’t made any official announcements, and Taehyung’s name always remained out of the media’s claws. 

“I’m guessing, not by choice huh?” Jungkook gave you a pitiful look. “Why, you’d rather get with Seokjin over there?” He nodded in Jin’s direction. Your eyes switched between the two men, one who was paying no attention to you whatsoever, and the other, eliciting something so incredibly eerie, you weren’t entirely sure if you should be scared or intrigued.

“I don’t know who you are” You said steadily, “I don’t want any trouble. I’m just here to have a good time and celebrate my own final days of freedom, so Jeon Jungkook—leave me the fuck alone”

The man laughed as you stormed away, pushing through the crowd towards Jin’s booth. Heart pounding louder than the electric bass that shook the walls of the club. Your ears numbed out, fists clenched with a myriad of emotions you couldn’t even begin to decipher. Instead, you slammed your palms onto Jin’s table—looking straight at him.

He didn’t even notice you. Not until you grabbed a fist full of hair belonging to the woman making out with him, grinding into him like a desperate whore. Yanking her back you finally spoke:

“Jin” 

He smiled upon seeing you, motioning for the women to excuse him. He curled his finger, beckoning you to sit by his side. Sliding into the seat, you leaning against his warm chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

“You’re still sober?” He raised his eyebrows.

“I’m not about to drink alone” You pouted, smacking him lightly, “You said tonight was about me, but as usual, all you care about is getting laid” Jin grinned at your words before pinching your cheek.

“Hey” His hand landed gently slid around your waist. He giggled as you turned to meet his eyes, nudging your cheek with his nose. He held you close, so close you could melt into his warmth. Lips trailing over your shoulder. “I’m sorry I wasn’t with you. I’m all yours now,”

His fingers slid up to cup your jaw, tilting your face inches from his own. He stared deeply into your eyes. For a moment you felt breathless, unsure if it was the alcohol swimming in your veins, or the deliria from the dizzying encounter you had just had earlier. 

His free hand slid over your neck, tracing the thick diamond choker displayed across your chest. “I like this. It brings out your eyes”

“Of course you do, you gave it to me” You pushed him off, folding your arms over your chest. 

There was so much left unsaid in these delicate moments spent holding one another’s gaze as though it would shatter if left to fall away. Neither of you would admit it, yet both of you knew.

Deep down. You always knew.

“Why are you letting this engagement happen Jin? Why aren’t you doing anything to stop it?” 

The look in your eyes was desperate. Pleading. You knew it was only a matter of time before the two of you addressed the weighted tension that had been growing over the past week, counting down the days before Taehyung’s flight would land.

“You know I can’t do anything. Namjoon dec—” 

“Fuck Namjoon” You screamed, pushing against his chest. “I’m so tired of Namjoon deciding how all of us fucking live our lives” 

Jin mumbled something under his breath. You couldn’t quite hear it, but it sounded like agreement. He paused for a moment, as though he were contemplating something. 

“Princess,” He sighed, “I’m gonna need you to just trust me on this one okay. I know, Namjoon is…controlling. But I promise you—” His eyes glistened with sincerity as he cupped your face “It’s the only fucking way you’ll be safe. The only way we can keep you safe from what’s coming” 

“But—” He pressed a finger to your lips, shushing you before he cradled your head into his chest. 

“Come on, Y/n. It’s just Taehyung. He’ll be good to you. There’s no reason to be afraid. And,” He inhaled sharply, pulling your head back to search your eyes as though he had all the time in the world “You won’t lose me. Ever”

Something stirred deep within you. Almost like a sense of dread, a warning that every word he said just then—was a lie.

 ⟶ 4 days before the murder ⟵

When you woke up the next morning, Jin was nowhere to be found. A simple note on your bedside table—

Out for a run. Try not to be completely drunk by the time I get back ;)

After freshening up, you stepped out of the hotel suite, taking the elevator down to the lobby of the five star resort that Jin had picked out for the two of you. It was beautiful, except for the fact that you felt completely and utterly numb. Jin’s words the night before had hardly been comforting. You had gone online, tried your best to find anything about the man you were about to get engaged to. Even a fucking picture would have sufficed, but your efforts proved futile. 

The elevator slowed to a stop, opening on the 9th floor. Your eyes flickered up, to be met with the intense, bitter stare of Jeon motherfucking Jungkook.

“Are you stalking me?” You huffed, folding your arms over your chest. His hair was rough, ends slightly wet as though he had just taken a shower. He smelled so fucking good—it overwhelmed you. Your lungs suffocating as the elevator doors slid close, and he maneuvered himself next to you, leaning back causally with his hands stuffed in the pocket of his grey joggers. His arms were exposed, allowing you to see the exquisite ink decorated his god-like figure. 

“Yeah” He answered blandly. “Saw you finally got your boyfriend’s attention last night after all.”

“He’s not—” You stammered, face flushing as Jungkook smirked. “Whatever, I don’t have the patience for a bitch-ass like you”

“I just don’t understand how you sleep at night” Jungkook let out a dramatic sigh. The elevator reached the lobby, doors sliding open as he stepped in front of you, “Knowing that that family is responsible for destroying so many people’s lives” 

“You’re just jealous” Clearly Jungkook was not expecting your comment. You raised your eyebrows at him in amusement. “I know your type. Hating on anyone who’s fucking successful just because they have money and status. But really you’re just projecting”

Jungkook’s eyes flashed with a deep rage. It was as though a switch turned in him, firing up the blood in his veins. The edge of your lips quirked, almost as if you were daring him. Taunting him to see how far he would go to get what he wanted.

“Jealous?” He grabbed your jaw, yanking you towards him, his thumb hard against your chin so that he could see the veins on your neck bulging. Pushing you back, he slammed his fist into the wall next to your head. His breaths were heavy, fanning over you as anger seized him. “I fucking hate your kind. Especially that motherfucking Kim family” His words spit onto you like acid, making you flinch with every syllable. 

You examined the angry man’s face. There was something so honest—so raw about him, you couldn’t quite place your finger on it. You timed your breaths with his, suddenly at a loss for words. No witty comeback, nothing. Just a warm pulse in your chest, a nervous tremble in your limbs and a slew of dirty thoughts wondering just what would happen if—

And then his lips were on yours.

Desperate. Hot—fueled by whatever hate you had drawn in him and it was ecstasy. Fire crawled over your skin behind the rough trace of his hands over your sides, grabbing at you feverishly.   

You groaned in surprised, before clenching your eyes shut, kissing him back with every ounce of power. His lips were as soft as you had hoped, so incredibly sweet as he grazed his teeth over your flesh and swallowed you into him. Fingers lacing with yours as he dragged your arms over your head.

A deep growl left his throat, vibrating against you, only making you weaker to his advances. He kissed you like he couldn’t get enough—you definitely couldn’t. Losing yourself in him, you tugged at his hair, wanting him to kiss you everywhere and more—your neck, your shoulders, your chest—just aching for him. 

Annoyed, he parted from you shakily, eyes blasted with a dark sheen of lust. He smacked his lips before gripping your jaw, digging his nails into you as he tilted your head back. He stared at you—predatory in a way as to decide how he wanted to ravish you next. Next thing you knew, his hand slid to your nape, grabbing the back of your head tightly before pushing you down to the lobby floor.

“H-here?” Slapping your cheek lightly, Jungkook tugged your mouth open, leaning down to spit directly into it. Shame burned all over your face, especially as you heard him coo at you, rubbing his thumb against your cheek as though you were some pet. 

“Aw, are you worried one of your Kim boys will find us, hm? See the slut you really are—oh sweetheart, trust me” He leaned down to whisper against your eyelids, “They already know”

You shot him a nasty look, which only fueled him. He gripped your neck, pulling your face into his crotch where he thrust his hips wildly. 

“Go on then. I’m sure you know exactly what you’re doing. How many blowjobs have you given those three boys huh?” 

“I’ve n-never—” 

“Did you not hear me?” His palm smacked against your cheek, this time, harsher. Frustration boiled within you, nevertheless, you obeyed. You didn’t know why—but somehow you found yourself wanting to surrender to him. Punishing yourself, getting what you deserved. 

You pushed his thighs open, tugging at his joggers so you could discretely pull out his aching length. Meeting his eyes again, you spit down onto his tip, rubbing the moisture in with your nimble hands. Working his length up and down, not once taking you eyes off of the lust-stricken man.

“Don’t have all day, sweetheart” After tugging at his cock for a while, you finally placed your lips slick around his tip, hallowing your cheeks as you filled up.

“That’s it—fuck—there you go” Jungkook groaned, your tongue tracing along his veiny shaft, wrapping around him and sucking. He felt so good, stuffing you deep down your throat, gagging all over him as you bobbed your head back and forth. Loving him down so fucking well.

“Can I fuck you baby? Will you let me have you?” His voice turned into a delicate whisper, just for a moment. You felt breathless. Suffocated, as you nodded softly. Groaning, he molded his lips onto you again, tugging and pushing against yours in a blended harmony as he pulled you back onto your feet. You could feel him press into you—hard and firm, rolling into you with the slippery fabric of your shorts holding him back.

You whined, unable to separate from his mouth for even a second—as though he was the air you so desperately needed to breathe. Jungkook ignored your whimpers, instead hooking his fingers underneath your tank top, allowing it to slide seamlessly down your figure. Chasing after it with the hot blaze of his lips. He wrapped his tongue around your breast, leaving sweet, prominent kisses. Teeth tugging at the sensitive flesh under which you squirmed with pleasure.

He sighed, breath scorching against your skin. You arched your back into him, fingers tangled in his black locks as he continued to suckle you fondly. His tongue on your neck, behind your ear, swallowing your delectable moans as he touched you all over. His hands magic, bewitching your every nerve. You could feel his desire pressing against your heat, the friction so good.

Yanking down your shorts, you felt him line his cock up at your quivering pussy. He traced the slick folds, teasing you, making you twitch underneath him. Slowly he pushed in, loving the way your cunt swallowed him in, inch by inch. Warm and tight—exactly how he liked it. You cried out in ecstasy, gripping onto his shoulders as he slowly dragged his heavy length out, then sharply thrusting it back in.

Your moans harmonized. Sweet cries of each others names, muddled between curses. He moved into you so good, rolling his hips in an angle that had you seeing stars. He pushed your hands above your head, fucking into you at a steady but forceful pace. 

It was obscene. Shameful, as your eyes began to wander over the empty lobby. There you were, directly disobeying Namjoon’s orders—fucking a stranger in public. All it would take is someone to send him a picture, and you had no idea the hell he would pull on you.

The thought alone made your pussy clench.

Truth be told you needed this. So badly you could hardly fathom. Sweat dripped from Jungkook’s forehead as he continued to piston in and out of you, so sounds of wet skin soft yet prominent enough for you to blush at the noise. You could feel the pressure building. It was far beyond anything you could handle.

“Fuck—" You screamed, senses sent over the edge as you claimed down on him tightly. Jungkook cursed loudly, quickening his pace as you came, fucking you through the high.

Bursting deep inside you, he slowed his trusts, kissing your forehead before roughy shoving you back until your back slammed against the wall, leaving him gasping. Forearms on either side of your head, hanging his own down to catch his breath. 

And then you felt your soul leave you. 

The faint echo of applause filled the otherwise barren lobby. 

Fuck. Fuck. FUCK. 

Jungkook wiped the slick sweat from his forehead, smirking at your stunned face before tugging up his joggers. He turned, eyes falling right onto none other than Kim Seokjin.

“Oh my God” Your voice wavered. Jungkook watched carefully as you stumbled back down to your knees, tugging your top back over your breasts in an effort to reclaim your decency. “Jin” No fucking way. 

Jungkook’s eyes widened in interest, watching as Jin crouched down in front of you, pulling off his running hoodie before sliding it over your head. The garment fell to the tops of your thighs. He smiled warmly, much to Jungkook’s surprise.

“I’d say good morning but it seems you’ve already had one,” Jin joked. A scowl grew on Jungkook’s face, fueled in part by the way Jin raised your hand to his lips, tenderly kissing them before standing back up. Reluctantly he shuffled through his pockets for his. elevator card. “Come Y/n, it’s our last day out here so I made some plans for us”

Guiding you back into the elevator, Jin stalled himself near Jungkook to whisper something into his ear. You watched the subtle exchange between the two men—the knowing nod that Jin passed onto Jungkook, whose jaw clenched. 

Waving, Jin followed you into the elevator, heading back to the room where you were certain you were about to get an earful from your best friend. 

 ⟶ 3 days before the murder ⟵

The subtle ticking of the clock rang in Jimin’s ears—perfectly offbeat to the quickening throb in his chest. His thumb on the edge of his gold-plated letter opener—a gift from one of his longest clients. In front of him was a single, crisp hundred-dollar bill, adjacent to a handful of small orange pills. Perks of the job. 

After a quick glance to his watch he took the blade, crushing the pills into a coarse powder. Rolling up the bill he paused, contemplating. A sharp buzz came through his speakers—

“Mr. Kim was your last patient Dr. Park, you’re free to go,”

He grinned inwardly, quickly lining the roll up to the powder. His heart steadied. One. He inhaled sharply—two. Three. His heart jumped in his chest, muscles on his shoulders relaxing as he brushed off the remnants from his glass desk with a slight flick of the wrist.

Sometimes Jimin wondered if studying so hard that his blood would run dry was worth it. He really did, especially as he stared at the cream walls behind his patients. It wasn’t that he hated his job—he didn’t. It was by far more entertaining than anything else in his life. It was the humor of it all. How he’d dedicated his life to empower and help people.

And here he was. Learning the most twisted, darkest thoughts of the richest people around. Criminals? Not quite. Not technically. But Jimin knew enough to have each and every one of them behind bars. And behind bars is where he’d be—if he were to utter a word. A fact he was reminded of time and time again.

Jimin always took great interest in his patients. He liked to tell himself it was part of the profession, to take the improvement and success of each and ever single one of his patients personally. He invested in his patients. In their complex, often dangerous lives.

Lately things had been more interesting than usual. Jimin leaned back, kicking his legs up on the desk. Pen twirling in his fingers. 

“I’m taking the next few weeks off, cancel all my appointments” A naughty grin plastered on his face. 

“I have an engagement to attend”

|| next ||

series navi | join taglist | masterlist

a/n: thank you so much for reading!! AHHHHH yay im so HYPE for this. let me know what you think, come scream in my asks <3

nexus (m) | part 1

pairing: ot7 x reader smut ft: namjoon x reader

genre: smut, thriller, slow burn, casino!au elite!au gang/organized crime!au, childhoodfriends-to-lovers, enemies-to-lovers, strangers-to-lovers

premise: a notorious casino conglomerate took you in when you were young. you practically grew up alongside their sons; inseparable from the oldest, infatuated with the middle, and now engaged to the youngest. but when you’re suddenly being framed for a murder you did not commit, you start to question truth about your life. the truth about the people you swore your loyalty to, and the extent they’ll go to keep it

summary: the youngest Kim heir returns home to get engaged. what was supposed to be a trip of celebrations quickly turns south when he finds his older brother dead

wc: 6k

warnings: explicit smut; reader discretion is advised; rough sex, manipulation, coersion, virginity loss, angst, hurt, comfort, cum facial, brief oral, dumbification, breast play, praise, unprotected sex, lack of after care, coping mechanisms, alcohol, subtle references to gambling, toxic behaviors (namjoon is an ~asshole~), heavy sexual tension, nudity, mention of character death, mentions of chronic disease, family conflict, descriptions of anxiety/panic attacks*please dont read if this triggers you!*, references to drugs, hospitals, police/cops, cursing, seokjin is fucking sexy as fuck holy fuck

taglist: @raynom @gimmythatjib00ty @yoshiure @greezenini @victoryscreech61 @tbzhubrecs @namjooningelsewhere @sugarcoffeemochi @jiminie-08 @jinssexytoe @kooookie @only4sana @pinkcherrybombs @taeslarityy @natalie-rdr @mageprincess7 @hopeonysus @bibbykins @sameifnn @shadowmoon21 @juliemae80-blog @gaeguuliii @dvalitaes @satorinnie @fournia @kassandravictoria @jazmine2904 @marslena @iloverubberduckiez-blog @manchuria @btseverafter7 @jamlessstars @doublebunnykoo @you-are-my-wind @toughbook @everybias @lvrseok

a/n: HI BABES. omg this one BURNS baby. like fuck, if you aren't thirsting for the Kim boys after this one,,,,,just buckle up ;) hope you enjoy <3

series navi | join taglist | masterlist

⟶ many years ago ⟵

Tilting his neck, Namjoon let out a heaving sigh. The whiskey glass rolling in his palm as he leaned against the railing. The balcony overlooked the gardens where he had grown up. Taking a sip, he let the bitter liquid roll in his mouth. Remembering days far more peaceful, more innocent. When he would sit upon the stone benches, reading a hefty novel—something his mother would have given him, while you and Jin would play cards in the grass, and Taehyung would watch excitedly.

It always irritated Namjoon. The way baby Taehyung would trail you like a lost lamb, eyes wide and cheeks full, latching onto you whenever he could. Always such a fucking brat, Namjoon thought to himself, he would come running up to him and Jin—ultimately succeeding in dragging Jin into his shenanigans because Jin always had a soft spot for the young boy. Hyung, is Y/n a princess? It made Namjoon want to gouge his eyes out on the spot but Jin had simply smiled, crouching down to ruffle his hair. Yes she is. She’s our princess. And hence, the nickname stuck.

It was pretty accurate. You were royally spoilt as far as he was concerned. For as much resentment as Namjoon had for his older brother, he equally held it for you. You weren’t even family, and yet his own mother doted on you far more than he.

And now she was gone. His whole life all he wanted was to get the respect, the status he deserved. He was smarter than his brothers, more ambitious, more worthy. All he wanted was for her to say it. To see that he deserved to be head of the family. But it was too late.

He could hear you walk in. He knew you were too fucking scared of him to actually announce your presence. He scowled, setting his glass down.

“You’re not allowed in here”

“Don’t be like that” He heard your footsteps nearing, “Not today,” He flinched as your hand landed on his arm, “Let me be there for you today”

“Get out. I don’t need you.” He paused, before bitterly adding “None of us do”

You sighed, expecting his harsh words, “Namjoon, what if I need you?”

Namjoon faced you finally, eyebrows raised at your statement. His heart clenched, seeing the tears spilt down your cheeks. He stiffened, unsure how to proceed. He was certain he didn’t care about you and yet, he was a sucker for your tears. You knew he was.

“Stop” He warned, stepping towards you, “Stop fucking crying” His fists clenched tightly, nails digging into his palms. Blood boiling inside as your tears continued to flow freely. You buried your face into his chest, soft sobs leaving your lips as you broke down.

Namjoon looked at you, arms away from your body as though he was unsure if he should even touch you. If you would break into pieces if he did. You gripped onto his shirt for dear life, soaking through the fabric. Sighing, Namjoon let his hands rest awkwardly on your shoulders.

Truth be told, there were tears in his own eyes. But he didn’t want you to see. Didn’t want anyone to see because, he didn’t cry. He wasn’t weak. Things didn’t matter to him, especially not the death of that God-forsaken mother of his.

Lies. Today, even Namjoon couldn’t bring himself to believe it. His mother was gone. Dead. She had fought a long battle with cancer, but even despite having access to the best doctors and facilities, her fate had been sealed. The death of his mother made a lot of people very happy, and some people sad, but Namjoon was fucking angry. Because his mother dying meant he could no longer prove himself to her. It meant she couldn’t change her will. It mean Jin was getting everything that he deserved.

He wanted Jin to hurt. He wanted to destroy him, he always had but especially now. As you cried in his arms, a small grin tugged at his face. He knew that his brother considered you his world. That his brother would do just about anything for you.

So just imagine what he would do, if Namjoon got to have you like Jin never could. No matter what power Jin held in the family now, Jin could never say that he took your virginity, not if Namjoon did it first. Hurting you—breaking you—would break him.

And fuck if that thought alone didn’t make him hard.

“Look at me” Namjoon forced himself to sound softer. To play at your heart strings. You blinked, looking adorable pressed up against him. He wiped your tears with his thumb, smiling at you. He knew you wanted this. He had heard time and time again the way you’d play with yourself, chanting his name when you thought no one was listening.

He knew he could get you to do anything.

And he did, sliding his lips onto yours, he didn’t offer you a space to question him as he lifted you by the waist, setting you onto the edge of the balcony.

You melted into his touch, he could tell you didn’t have much experience but he didn’t mind. It excited him. The thought that he could tarnish you—ruin you.

He wasn’t about to ask you what you wanted. Taking on the momentum of your confusion he lifted you up, carrying you easily back towards his bed where he laid you down sweetly.

He didn’t want to be so careful, he would have preferred to slam you against a wall, legs around his waist and pump his thick cum deep inside you while choking your neck until you couldn’t breath, but—that wouldn’t work on you. You were soft. You were in love with him.

Whatever the fuck that meant.

Namjoon was smart enough to know what you wanted to hear. You were vulnerable, you were sad, and frankly so was he. So today he would pretend, for your sake—for his own sake.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that” Your face lit up, allowing Namjoon to climb over you, carefully unzipping the back of your dress while he nuzzled against your neck. “You’re so fucking pretty, you know that?”

“W-what, Namjoon I—”

“Ssh” Pulling off your dress, Namjoon took a moment to admire your body. He always thought it was funny that his family’s money was used on your things—your clothes, your underwear.

Technically, in a way, he owned you.

He knelt down to meet your lips again. You were evidently getting the hang of it, finally gathering the courage to move your hands and cup his face. He deepened the kiss, tasting the sweet gloss on your lips before pushing his tongue inside to tangle with your own.

Breaking the kiss, you were panting heavily, “Wait, just” You held your hand against his chest, stopping him from diving back in for more. “Slow down…it’s my f-first time”

I know. “Oh,” Namjoon feigned ignorance, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize” He got up, pretending as though he took your words as a rejection because he knew you would—

“Don’t go” Your voice was pleading, eyes wide and quivering. You lay in nothing but your bra and panties, waiting patiently for him to fuck you into oblivion. Good fucking girl.

“Are you sure baby?” Namjoon traced the inside of your thighs, tickling the plush skin and you twitched. “You want this. You do, don’t you?” He kissed the top of your knee, “You love me, right?”

“O-of course” You gasped as Namjoon’s lips trailed up your leg. Each kiss resounding, he took his time, savoring your whimpers. He wanted you to burn for him, to surrender to him completely.

He found your lips once again, hands hovering over your bra when he looked at you, “May I?” Internally, he groaned. He would have torn the damn thing off with his teeth by now.

You nodded, unsure exactly what was happening but you would find out real soon, as Namjoon unclipped your bra, licking his lips as he tossed it aside.

“Can you?” You mumbled, reaching for his collar, “I-I mean, y-your shirt is still on”

Namjoon smirked, straightening himself to unbutton his own shirt. He enjoyed the way your eyes widened, seeing his body up close.

“Undo my belt” He instructed. You nodded rapidly, reaching for the designer piece, fumbling it in your shaking hands. Namjoon’s own, larger ones covering them to guide you until you clicked the belt off, unzipping his trousers so he could kick them off along with his boxers.

“Oh wow” Your voice cracked, watching as his long, thick length popped out. He stroked it a few times, warming himself up. You widened your thighs, your whole body shaking in anticipation.

“You love me,” Namjoon reminded you as he yanked down your panties, “So you’d do anything for me right?”

“Yeah”

“This is gonna hurt” He confessed, fitting his tip at your entrance. “But you’re gonna let me do this, because it’ll make the pain go away, and I need that” His palm brushed against your cheek, “I need you. Like you said.” Steadying your hips, he pushed into you slowly. You hissed at the intrusion, an odd, painful feeling boiling in your core.

“Namjoon—” You reached for him as he growled, you were so fucking tight, he could barely get in. Pushing your thighs out more, you winced in pain but he didn’t care. “Namjoon, ow, wait—”

Shut the fuck up, Namjoon wanted to scream. Instead he took a deep breath, halting his advances and looking at you.

“I love you, Y/n” The lie left his mouth easily, no guilt coming with it. He could see you blush, you tried to suppress the smile on your face but you simply couldn’t. It was everything you ever wanted. What a fucking idiot. “I always have…I’ve just been too scared to admit it…I thought you would reject me”

You laughed weakly, reaching for his arm, “I would never reject you Namjoon,”

“Really?” His eyes perked, taking the opportunity to push in a little deeper. “I wanna fuck you hard, will you let me do that?”

He could see the conflict in your eyes. The part of you wanting to give him everything fighting against the pain in your body screaming for you to stop.

“Yeah”

“Once I start, I might not be able to stop, so you’re sure?”

“I am” You nodded, “Do whatever you need, I’m yours”

Namjoon’s eyes darkened suddenly. A greedy grin growing on his face. Hooking your thighs in his elbows, he tilted you up at an angle before dragging his length out.

And then he slammed into you.

And you screamed.

Which only made him go faster. Blood trickled onto the silk sheets but Namjoon was effectively gone. Your cunt was so fucking sweet, so tight around him, so warm, and fuck he couldn’t stop.

“You’re doing so good” He grumbled, burying his face into your chest as he pounded on, smacking his hips against yours. “Feel so fucking good babygirl”

Your pussy clenched at the praise, and Namjoon could feel it, “Yeah? You’re such a good girl for me aren’t you?” He nipped at your jaw, dropping your legs so he could squeeze at your breasts. Thumb circling around your taught nipples, light circles driving you into a frenzy.

You moaned loudly, making Namjoon pinch at you, his wet lips now sucking into your neck. Cupping underneath your breasts he pushed them together, meeting your gaze briefly before slobbering his mouth and tongue all over them.

“Oh f-fuckk”

Your face was dumbed out in pleasure, lips parted wide as Namjoon fit his mouth over your left breast, hand molesting the other. He sucked down harshly, tongue swirling and flicking all over your skin, the wetness growing between your legs making it easier for him to fuck into you. The soft squelching noise dizzying, making you embarrassed.

“Fuck, these tits” He groaned, switching sides, “Such pretty fucking tits”

“I feel g-good” You arched your back, “Feel so good Joon—”

Namjoon parted from your breasts, a line of saliva dripping from his swollen lips. He grinned, wiping it away before kissing you roughly. Fisting your hair and he fucked deeper and deeper into you.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, finally adjusting to his size and pace. It was feverish, animalistic. He sucked at your neck, your jaw, back on your lips, all over your face, he simply couldn’t get enough.

“Such a good girl for me, fuck, babygirl I need to pull out soon” You whined at the prospect of feeling empty, “Can’t have you getting pregnant” He muttered. No way in hell. “M’gonna cum in your mouth okay, you’re gonna open real wide for me, aren’t you?”

You nodded, too fucked out to comprehend anything. Namjoon pulled out, stroking his slick length as he yanked your head up—pushing your lips open with his fingers before shoving his cock deep down your throat.

Gagging, tears fell from your eyes as Namjoon pulled and pushed your mouth over his cock, fucking down your throat until he burst inside—his cum making you choke as he pulled out, drops landing on your lips.

“Swallow it”

You did. Namjoon sighed in relief, wiping the remnants from your lips with the swipe of his thumb, tugging at them playfully before pushing his thumb in your mouth. Like a braindead bitch, you sucked on it.

If only his mother could see you now.

Right away, he began to dress himself again, while you lay back in awe of the events that had just transpired.

“Joon—” You called as you noticed him getting ready to leave. He rolled his eyes, turning to you impatiently. “Wait, a-are you leaving? Aren’t we supposed to like,” Your voice went quiet, “C-cuddle,”

He scoffed meanly, making you tense. “You’re so fucking dumb, Y/n.”

You sat up, grabbing your dress and attempting to cover yourself, “What?”

Namjoon gave you an uninterested look, “Do you really think I meant any of that?”

Your heart dropped. A nasty feeling piled in your throat. You felt like you could puke—you were going to puke.

“Namjoon, no—y-you’re lying, you’re just scared, a-and hurt”

He stood up, making his way to the door, “Maybe you’re right” He smirked one final time, scanning how pathetic you looked in that moment, and then he was gone.

You gasped for air, the weight of his actions—his words finally settling in. Heaving, you rushed to his bathroom, falling to your knees in front of the toilet as you gagged, wanting to rid yourself of him in any way you could. Your arms curled over your body, attempting to gain some comfort. Loud sobs leaving your lips.

Your mind instantly went to Jin. How were you supposed to face him? You could never tell him what happened, couldn’t bear to think how he might react.

If Jin got upset with you—you weren’t sure you could handle it. And if he didn’t, he would fight with Namjoon. You couldn’t be the reason this family falls apart. For the first time in your life, you had to keep a secret from Jin.

It was moments like this where you’d miss Taehyung. The little boy who thought you were a princess. Whoever he might be now, wherever. He had always brought you comfort. Pure, innocent comfort. How could he have missed his mother’s funeral? Anger surged within you.

Getting dressed carefully, you left Namjoon’s room—wanting to go sink into your own bathtub and wash the memories away. You had no idea where he went, you no longer cared. Arriving in your bedroom, you grabbed your cellphone from your dresser.

“What is it princess?” Jin’s voice was silk—comfort, and peace. You could hear the hint of concern, it was late after all.

You covered your mouth, a sudden surge of emotion prompting you to break down in tears once again. You couldn’t let him hear you cry, you couldn’t tell him what was wrong—you shouldn’t have called and yet, there was nothing that made more sense.

“What happened? Fuck, what’s wrong?” You hung up, bawling out into heavy tears. Slamming your fist against the bathroom floor as you screamed, begging for the pain to stop.

You had no idea how much time must have passed, hiding in your room, rocking yourself back and forth. Jin knocked softly at your door.

“Princess,”

No. You groaned, knowing if you looked Jin in the eye—you would fall apart all over again. You could hear him sigh. Guilt panging in your chest for making him worry.

“Please Y/n” He whispered, “Talk to me”

You didn’t respond.

Eventually, he left.

Jimin preferred the private practice life, largely due to the fact that he couldn’t stand how creepy hospitals were to him. He stared at his clipboard, flipping aimlessly through his patient notes. Well—one patient in particular.

“Dr. Park, please follow me”

A consultant, is what he would call himself—he didn’t work here. Perks of working with wealthy criminals was that he could get away just about anything, most of the time. Get away with doing anything he so pleased. Pursuing, hobbies for his own amusement.

A nurse greeted him politely. Following him, they walked through the dreary hospital walls.

“Any changes in behavior?” Jimin asked. The nurse shook his head, unlocking the door, allowing Jimin to step inside, leaving him with his patient.

The patient sat on the bed, facing the other wall. A pair of die in his palm, which he rolled around rapidly—anxiously. The room was bare, except for a small window towards the ceiling, allowing for bright sunlight to filter in.

“How are you feeling?” Jimin asked warmly, taking a seat next to his patient, flipping through his clipboard before scribbling down a few notes. The patient didn’t respond. “I’ve got your prescription refilled for you”

“There’s nothing wrong with me” The patient stated quietly. Jimin sighed, setting his clipboard on the bedside table.

“Mr. Kim, we’ve been over this. There is something wrong with you. That’s why I need you to keep taking these—you do want to see her again someday, don’t you?”

The patient solemnly watched as Jimin handed him a bottle of pills. Jimin had given him careful instructions to hide this medication from his nurses. To take it only at night, in the dark, when the cameras wouldn’t be able to catch him.

The patient gulped before nervously placing a pill in his mouth, gulping it down with a glass of water. Jimin grinned, patting his back.

“Good, I’ll see you next week”

Stepping out of the room, Jimin shuffled through his doctor’s coat, grabbing his cell phone, dialing a recent number.

Yeah?

“I’ve given him the pills. He won’t be getting out of here anytime soon”

Jin was hardly judgmental when it came to you. You would trust him with pretty much everything, your sexual escapades to your petty fights at school, your deepest thoughts and your darkest desires.

He’d treat every thought as though it was brilliant, considering even the dumbest confessions worthy of discussion. He would always take you seriously, even when he was wrapped up in his own obligations, his own life—the demands of being the new head of the family business, ever since his mother died.

You were confident about him, you faith never wavering. But then again, he had never actually seen you get railed with his own eyes. Until now.

The elevator ride was stuffy. Not a word left his mouth, his hoodie feeling warm around your freshly fucked body. You searched his eyes, trying to figure out what to expect—was he upset? Amused? Did he not care?

Making Jin angry was something you never, ever wanted to do. He was generally easy-going, a striking contrast to Namjoon who seemed to have a gold bar stuffed up his ass half the time. But you had seen him get angry once before. Just once. And it had been terrifying.

Jin brought you upstairs, his t-shirt drenched in sweat. Closing the door behind him, he tugged off his shirt—nothing you hadn’t seen before, except that this time you looked. You looked at the way his muscles flexed against his slim figure, his broad shoulders, licking your lips.

“Listen—”

“Namjoon wants you home by tomorrow morning” Unscrewing his bottle, he tilted it over his head, allowing the water to splash over his face, dripping down his jaw onto his chest. Setting the bottle aside. He glanced at his watch, vintage Rolex that looked stunning against his bare arm.

Gulping you nodded. Jin noticed the anxious look on your face, the way you folded your arms over your chest, fingers tapping against your elbow nervously. He grabbed a hand towel, rubbing against his neck. The silence grew heavy between you.

“Gonna shower” He announced, tossing the towel aside. “Join me?”

Your eyes widened, giving him a curious look. Jin and you had never crossed any lines. You made sure of it.

And yet, as you watched Jin disappear into the luxurious bathroom, the sound of the shower hitting your ears, you slowly began to undress. Piles of clothing dropping to the floor, leaving a trail behind you until you were leaning against the doorframe.

Inside, Jin was under the pour, steam covering his lower half and water drenching over his back. His hands pressed forward against the glass, eyes shut as he let the hot water hit him.

Fuck.

Nervously covering yourself however much you could, you slid the shower door open. Jin turned upon hearing you enter, moving to give you plenty of room—to keep himself away from your body.

He looked at you. You couldn’t quite decipher what his eyes were saying, but something was off. Different.

“Get in the water, it’ll help,” He backed away, keeping his eyes on yours as to not move them any lower. You had to respect his self-control. “With the stress”

You did. Closing your eyes you let the water cover you like a warm blanket, pounding against your muscles, relieving the ache from the rough sex you had just endured at the hands of Jungkook. Your lips parted, neck tilting to the side as you let your hands roam your body.

You could feel Jin’s eyes on you. Like a laser, burning through your skin. You knew he must have given in. That he was watching the way your hands went over your chest, around your neck, into your hair. You wondered what his hands would feel like instead. What his touch would feel like.

You tilted your neck, remembering how amazing it had felt when his fingers were tracing your skin the night before, touch searing against you to the point you wanted to simply unravel into dust before him.

This was who he was. He was touchy, flirtatious, an infamous playboy who had fucked half of your social circle and you had never wanted him. He had never wanted you—or at least that was what you believed.

He’d never use his tricks on you, you were his Ace. His partner in crime, and yet you found yourself weak in the knees, delirious, wanting to give yourself to him wordlessly. Wanting to let him do whatever he would with you, reduce you to a mere tally in his list.

Jin backed into a corner, leaning back as he waited patiently. His body growing cold. He stared at the ceiling, one hand tucked behind his head. The other reaching behind you to grab the shampoo bottle.

“This isn’t your brand” He complained, a light chuckle following, “You still wanna use it?” Your eyes opened to see what he was holding. Smiling, you nodded. He extended it towards you.

“Do you,” You began, unsure how to ask the question which weighed heavy on the tip of your tongue. “I mean,”

“Turn around” He read your mind. He always could.

Jin’s long fingers sank into your hair, caressing it gently, the pads reaching your scalp, soft and yet the movement giving you an overwhelming sense of ease. You arched into his touch, unconsciously moving closer until your back was barely away from his chest.

You could feel the heat of his presence on you, making your joints weak. Your heart throb. Your throat choke with pressure.

You couldn’t afford these feelings. Not now, after so many years of being strictly platonic, you had no idea what was happening to you, or why. You were marrying his brother. Even beyond that, it was never Jin you wanted. That mere realization was in part what had gotten you into the mess of the engagement you were in now.

Chairwoman Kim, Jin’s mother, had given you a choice…of sorts. Asking you which of her sons you wanted to marry. She had always been fond of you, always wanted you to feel empowered. Her only wish was that you truly be her daughter somehow.

But you should have known there was some sick twist to it all. The Kim’s had a crooked sense of humor, which often involved playing with people’s lives, playing their own words against them.

She gave you a choice. You chose Namjoon.

A crush some would say. For you he was a dream. Someone so unattainable you couldn’t help but yearn for him. Especially in rare moments you had to yourself, hand underneath the satin of your pajama shorts as you’d mumble his name into your pillow. Grinding your hips frantically, wanting nothing more than his second glance. A second of his thoughts. A moment spared.

When Chairwoman told Namjoon he hadn’t reacted much at all, he had simply asked you one question: Don’t you love hyung?

You wanted Namjoon, bad, hence you said no—you didn’t love Seokjin, not like that anyway. Namjoon rejected you then and there. It was as though in that moment, you were now effectively useless to him. He had turned to his mother, a woman who would do anything for her little boys and said—give her to Taehyung

And here you were, wanting so badly to slap your younger self so that she would change her answer. You had been a fool, chasing after someone like Namjoon. What he had done to you after had been a simple reminder of that very fact.

But none of it seemed to matter anymore. Because nothing you felt towards Namjoon could come close to the way your whole body seemed to throb with pain when Jin would be out on the dance floor, groping strangers, bringing them back to the hotel room, two—three at a time. In this trip alone you had heard his sultry whispers, his hungry moans, and there simply wasn’t a pain quite like that.

You convinced yourself you were projecting. That you were so afraid of getting engaged to a stranger you were desperate to stay attached to someone you knew.

It angered you though, that Jin appeared to be sweet to you. To treat you, as he always had—but now it all felt hopelessly inappropriate. When he’d call you princess you would fall apart just a bit more. When he’d wink your way, when he’d cup your face and look into your eyes. Seemingly innocent but—no, not at all.

Jin’s fingers left your hair, allowing you to wash out the suds. You had never felt so breathless, wondering if he was watching the way the slippery soap trailed down your back.

You wanted to know—you just wanted to feel him once. Just a touch. His hand on your neck, his lips on your breast, maybe his fingers stuffed deep in your cunt while he’d whisper your name so sweet, lips pressed up right behind your ear, tell you everything you so desperately wanted to hear but—

Nothing. The rest of the shower went by wordlessly. Steam clouding the hot stares shares between you two. His eyes undressed you even while you were already naked. They drank you in like a sweet, addictive nectar. You were exposed entirely, your heart on your sleeve, he had you at his fingertips and chose not to lay a single hand.

You wanted to scream. To ask him what fucking game he was playing with your mind, making you all confused mere hours before your engagement, but you couldn’t.

The moment was too tender. Too delicate for you to shatter.

Shutting the water off, Jin wrapped a towel around you, tucking it into the dip of your breasts before wrapping another around his own waist. His hand lingered a beat too long. You watched as he gulped, stepping away from you.

“Get dressed” Jin sighed, running his hand through his hair—dewy drops landing against his chest, “The helicopter will be here soon.”

It was debatable if you had it in you to go another whole day without jumping his bones. Confessing the things your soul was screaming as truth. The right thing to do would have been to call it off. To go back home to Namjoon and help prepare for your big day.

“Where are we going?”

Jin smiled, “To do what you and I love most” Tugging out a bedside drawer, he wrapped his fingers around a deck of cards. Emptying it into his palm, he shuffled them masterfully, the zipping, crisp sound of cards clashing like music to your ears.

Maybe you would have been able to appreciate the gorgeous crystal chandelier dancing across the tall ceilings as though you were deep within a dream. Or the long glass walls that looked out upon the tinge of a purple sun set, growing darker, brighter, more elusive by the passing second. All of it was perfect—beautiful, typical of an event hosted by the Kim family.

Maybe you would have been enjoying yourself if it weren’t for the dark pit in your stomach. The screams in your head telling you:

Run.

Any second, he would arrive. Any second you would have to face him. After all these years.

From the corner of your eye, you watched as old family friends, business partners, members of the elite group of fucking fake socialites you associated with mingled and conversed amongst themselves. You hardly had the appetite to make your rounds. To plaster on that fake smile everyone loved.

Walking past a waiter, you snatched a glass of champagne from their tray, glancing behind your shoulder cautiously before slipping a small white pill between your lips. Washing it down with the crisp liquid.

In your chest, a weighted emptiness stirred. The missing presence of someone you needed by your side now more than ever before. Jin was nowhere to be seen—many missed calls confirmed the inclination that you might not be seeing much of him at all tonight.

You checked your phone, only for disappointment to clench at your throat. The previous day still seemed like a blur, too much had happened, you tried hard not to think about it. Even so, a part of you worried.

“You’re late” The familiar, stern voice of Kim Namjoon sent goosebumps down your neck. A voice you were quite used to hearing, critical of every move you made. Every breath you fucking took. Dressed nicely in a white suit, gold watch and chains making a statement against the getup. The small tattoo behind his ear—the family emblem. One all three of the brothers had.

Huffing, you folded your arms over your chest. Namjoon watched you, as if he was uncertain—like you were a grenade that might just explode if he made one wrong move. He raised his own glass—bourbon neat—to click against yours.

“You look good” He nodded in approval, something rare for him. His words were genuine, you could tell. But you could care less what Kim Namjoon thought of your engagement dress. You could care less about your engagement in the first place and yet here you were. “He’s a very lucky man”

You rolled your eyes, taking another sip of your drink before setting it aside. You had half a mind to throw the glass straight at him, if you didn’t know how easily he could snap your neck.

“Lucky my ass”

There was nothing lucky about your situation. No luck, just a debt owed to a family who took you in when you had nowhere to go. How were you supposed to refuse, when your mother disappeared so many years ago into thin air—no body to be found, left with a multibillion-dollar corporation when you could barely reach the top shelf of your closet.

You were in no position to deny when the Kim’s, the most notoriously filthy rich casino conglomerate in the world offered to take you in as their own. No position to deny the way they cared for you, the way they doted on you and treated you as like a princess. No position to deny them—more specifically, Namjoon. When he decided you were to get engaged with his younger brother, that was that. His word was law.

It’s what they did. Exploited. Twisted and hustled you until your life was a mere chip on the table, something they could gamble away with the flick of their wrists.

“Have you heard from Jin?” You asked, not wanting to entertain Namjoon’s compliments any longer. “I’ve left him a few missed calls but—”

Namjoon raised his hand, stopped your words. His eyes shifted behind you, where he narrowed in on an old client of his. Leaving you, he went to go charm the cash right out of the poor soul’s pocket. You groaned, rolling your eyes as you made you way to the bar.

Your manicured nails tapped nervously against the glass counter. A paced rhythm, until you felt a hand slide over your own. Longer, pretty fingers—clad with thick rings, fitting perfectly over your hand. A searing warmth from the touch, traveling up your arm and straight into your chest.

Breath hitching, you watched as the fingers intertwined with yours, slipping something cool, smooth into the cup of your palm.

“This should help with the nerves”

You recognized the feeling right away—dice. Exhaling shakily, your muscles eased, the familiar roll of the die giving you an overwhelming sense of comfort. Of anticipation. A feeling you loved—the moment your heart would jump before you let them go, putting everything on the line. All for chance.

And what a chance it was, as you looked up—a man stood, dressed in a dark suit, earrings dangling, sweet, bright lips that looked so fucking soft. And his eyes—oh god his eyes—you swore you could see stars in them. Stealing back the dice from your hand, he pressed it between his fingers, bringing it up in front of your face, leaning down—breath fanning over you as he grinned. Tossing it up with a swift move of his hand, he caught it again, snatching it back into his own pocket.

“Taehyung—” Was it something of a dream, or a nightmare—you weren’t entirely sure. You could hardly recognize the boy you remember would chase you around the Kim gardens, latching onto your arm as though you were his lifeline.

His lips quirked, a playful, seductive smile on his face as he backed away.

“Dance with me”—was all he said before his hand slid to the small of your back, guiding you towards the center of the venue. The twinkling lights illuminating his perfect features while he pulled you into his chest.

You looked up at him—he had grown. So much and in so many ways. His eyes were dark, searching your face as though he were memorizing every detail. As though you were a diamond—and he had finally found you, his prize, his beauty—all his.

Where were you supposed to begin? You had so many questions, so much you wanted to say, so much fear and yet—you were rendered speechless. All you could do was let him move you. Let him sway your body with grace, pressing his forehead against yours. It was suffocatingly romantic for a man you had only just met.

Cupping your face fondly, he finally spoke; “It’s been too long, princess”

The air was effectively knocked out of your lungs. Senses on overdrive as you attempted to digest the moment, to keep your mind from spinning out of control and steady yourself on the reality you faced.

“I—” The music stopped.

Sounds of sirens whirring neared. Turning, you could see guests muttering amongst themselves, worry in their eyes. You searched the crowd for Namjoon—who was nowhere to be seen. What the fuck, where did he—

Something twisted in your gut. A truth that your body rejected. A fear that grew strong and ached in every fiber of your bones.

You knew.

A group of officers burst into the venue, guns up and aimed, causing the crowd to break into a frenzied panic. And then everything was silent. You swore you could hear a faint ringing as deliria began to spin around in your mind. And then you saw those eyes. Those dark, vicious, hateful eyes that you could never forget.

Jeon Jungkook.

Your entire body trembled, remembering the ways those very eyes had brought you to your knees. He was dressed in a dark trench coat, pinstripe shirt underneath, a confident stride in his step. Reaching into his coat, he flashed a badge as he approached you.

“Y/n L/n” You shut your eyes, a tear dropping down your cheek. You weren’t sure when Taehyung had stepped away from you but he must have, because Jungkook grabbed your wrists, yanking it behind you followed by the resounding click of the handcuffs. In a soft voice, he added sinisterly, “Long time no see, whore”

Humiliation burned in your cheeks as he dragged you in front of the large crowd of guests, who all watched, wide-eyed, stricken with scandal as he announced to them all:

“You’re under arrest for the murder of Kim Seokjin”

⟵|| previous || next ||⟶

series navi | join taglist | masterlist | scream in my asks

a/n: AHHHH. thoughts? reactions? SCREAM WITH ME BABY. let me know what you thinking :) did oc murder jin! what happened in those 48 hours hmmmMMm... taehyung's here after all this time, how do we feel about that??? WHOS DR. PARK'S PATIENT???? why is he so susssss??

sorry if the order of events is confusing in this part, basically ill be revealing a bit of what happened in the 48 hours leading up to the murder slowly throughout as jungkook tries to piece it together!

smut pairs are up for the next chp! for those of you who are new here, the smut member changes each time :) this is an ot7 fic and all the other members will come soon &lt;3