Speak Easy Part 3

his dream.

part of the lovetimes7 yandere drabble series (except this isn’t really a drabble anymore bruh).

pairing. jeongguk x f!reader

word count. 2.6k

warnings. yandere behavior. obsessive behavior. stalking. recording without consent. smut (male masterbation, fantasizing about handjobs and blowjobs and penetrative sex). gguk’s awkward as fuck.

would recommend reading shy. before this.

dirty apartment.

dirty boy.

my masterlist!

the first thing jeongguk does when he gets to his apartment is toss his backpack to the side and scream into his pillow.

then, he makes sure that none of his supplies are damaged from the throw before screaming into his pillow again.

the neighbors may file a complaint about how loud he is, but jeongguk doesn’t care. after all, he can probably say that today has been one of the happiest days of his life (aside from the day he saw you for the first time, or the day he went to your apartment alone); because today is the day you asked him for tutoring.

he recalls how you walked into the lecture hall before class started, sitting in your spot a few seats below him (jeongguk made sure to arrive early like he usually does; that way, he could take the chair that allowed him to have the best view of you). it started out like any other lecture. jeongguk, being the smart boy he is, studied the lesson beforehand so he could use the time to watch you listen to the professor. his eyes were glued to you, observing how you squinted at the board with confusion, how you tapped your pen on your chin, how you flipped through your notes and scribbled onto your paper with haste; jeongguk wanted to squeal from how cute you were! aside from watching you, the boy did a lot of daydreaming. he imagined how it would be like to give you his notes, and how you would compliment how neat they were. it had him smiling down at his lap and suppressing a giggle. his fantasies distracted him from realizing that the lecture was over; distracted him from noticing you approaching him; distracted him from your sweet voice calling out to him. poor jeongguk was so confused when you said his name (sh.. she knows my name?!) and asked if he could help you with the lessons, to which he replied with “uh– oh– uh– i mean– y-y-yes!” (poor, shy jeongguk wanted to slap himself for being so awkward, but what could he do? it was his goddess talking to him!).

your smile at his response had him stunned, completely dazed, and the memory plays on repeat in his head even when he opens his apartment door (he couldn’t follow you home today; if he did, he would probably pass out the second he saw your face again!).

jeongguk’s hands ruffle his hair as his ears turn pink. half of him still doesn’t believe that you talked to him. another part thanks himself for all those nights of studying and being at the top of the class; maybe he secretly fantasized about teaching you concepts you were stuck on. the thought of you creeps back into his mind again, and flustered jeongguk searches for a pretty, pink boxes in his drawer. his hands reach for the one labeled ‘_____’s fashion’ (his hand ghosts over the one named ‘_____ sleeping’ before he shakes his head).

jeongguk opens it and carefully takes each picture out, one by one, laying them side by side before opening his closet.

he wanted to look his best for you. he wanted you to compliment his clothes, all while he makes sure that the two of you don’t look out of place for the study… date.

jeongguk was going on a date with you tomorrow.

he jumps on his bed and screams into his pillow again.

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Feel

Pairings: Tsukishima Kei x reader

Notes: I haven’t been posting much, so here’s yet ANOTHER one-shot from my Quotev/Wattpad while you all wait for me.

Tsukishima is my favorite Haikyuu boi and I adore the salty dinosaur! I usually see him portrayed as sadistic but I always pictured him having a sweet spot for his darling.

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, swearing

OTHER NOTES: (Y/n) is relatively short in this story so, if you're tall, I apologize.

Tsukishima Kei was pretty sure he didn't feel things the way others did.

Other people were so expressive: Hinata always grinned ear to ear when happy, Kageyama face screwed up in pure malice when angry, Tanaka dramatically cried when sad, and even the calmest of his teammates portrayed so many vivid emotions on their faces. Ones that Tsukishima didn't really experience.

Sure, he got angry- but it was more of an annoyed or peeved feeling, noticeable by just a deeper scowl than usual. He wouldn't yell himself hoarse, throw punches, or really go too far to express his anger. Why? Because it wasn't strong enough to invoke that kind of reaction. Tsukishima's sadness showed in slight frowns.

Happiness was, perhaps, the least common emotion for the blond middle blocker. He had rarely felt true, unhindered joy... Amusement? Check. The volleyball team was full of idiots. Pride? Check. He was fully aware of the smug smiles and smirks that pulled on his lips when he was able to show off or prove himself better than others.

But there was one type of emotion Tsukishima had never experienced even in the slightest. Romance. He'd never had a crush or found himself attracted to anyone and he thought it was stupid to try to find "love" if it wasn't there for him. Tanaka and Nishinoya made bigger fools of themselves than normal over Kiyoko's mere presence- it absolutely disgusted Tsukishima.

If that's what romantic attraction made people act like, he wanted nothing to do with it.

His mom said love would find him when he least expected it.

His dad said people do crazy things for love.

At the time, the stoic blond just scoffed and did his best to end the conversation as quickly as possible. He knew that would never happen to him and he didn't really care.

Both of Tsukishima's parents were right.

More than either could have ever known.

Tsukishima's calm walk down the hallway came to an abrupt end when he was side-checked by a couple of boys racing each other. Normally, they would have earned a simple tch and over-the-shoulder glare but it was hard to do that when his glasses were knocked off. He had heard it slide away and was reduced to bending low and blindly grasping with his hands.

It would have been easier if the floors weren't so littered. Tsukishima was sure he'd grabbed his glasses, only to come up with a candy wrapped in his fingers. It must have skidded away...

Normally, he was impartial to Yamaguchi being at his side but he realized it would have been helpful to have his only friend nearby in this instance. The sound of muffled snickering reached his ears and his jaw clenched in response. The students that chose to mock him instead of helping him only added to his rising irritation. He was seriously beginning to wonder what he would do. He only had so much time between classes-

"Hold still for a sec."

A girl's soothing voice interrupted his thoughts, prompting him to notice a vaguely, through his blurry vision, person-shaped figure approaching him. The person was getting a little too close for Tsukishima's comfort and he jerked his head back at the sudden sensation of smooth plastic pressing against his skin.

"Hold still!"

He obeyed the insistent voice and tried to ignore the plastic sliding against his skin, thoroughly confused. Before he knew it, his glasses were on his face once more and a short (h/c)-haired girl was removing her hands from the sides of his glasses' frame.

She was putting my glasses on me?

Tsukishima's mind was brought back to clarity well after his vision was. He cleared his throat and got to his feet, looking down at his rescuer. Damn, I think she's shorter than Nishinoya-

Now that Tsukishima was seeing the girl with fully-functional sight he couldn't help but take in the angel he'd been graced with. (H/l) (h/c} hair that he'd love to stroke, (e/c) eyes that shined up at him, beautiful (s/c) skin...

The tall blond swallowed the sudden lump in his throat, desperately wracking his brain for something to say. Thank her. I should thank her. But when he parted his lips, his mouth dried and the words died on his tongue. He couldn't even imagine how stupid he must look to her...

"I hope I didn't smudge the glass or anything." Those shining (e/c) eyes dulled and turned to gaze down at her sneakers. "I did my best to hold only the frame so I'm really sorry if my fingerprints got on the glass or something."

Tsukishima's brain was spitting out thoughts faster than he could process them and yet he was still frozen in place. Say something- Say literally anything- Thank her- Do something- STOP STANDING THERE GAPING LIKE A MORON-

"No!" Tsukishima's mouth managed to blurt out the word at the cost of it coming out more panicked than he intended. "I mean, no, you didn't get any fingerprints on it." He cleared his throat and adjusted himself. His still-racing mind had at least connected to his voice and he was going to use it while he could. "Thank you for helping me. It was very kind of you."

The girl's eyes snapped back up to meet his golden ones and a sweet smile spread across her face. "It was no problem! I'm just glad to help!" Her unwavering attention was sending Tsukishima's systems into overdrive.

What the hell is happening to me?

His heart was pounding in his ears and hammering against his ribcage at the same time and he'd never felt it beating this fast, even after the most intense matches he's played. His long legs were struggling to keep him upright and his hands were trembling uncontrollably. He simultaneously felt sick to his stomach and unbelievably happy. He could feel sweat materializing on his forehead.

Part of him wanted to attribute these sensations to some sort of illness but it had come on too sudden. And it was obvious that the girl in front of him was the source of it. These "symptoms" were all things his parents, teammates, brother, and Yamaguchi had described for one thing- the thing Tsukishima knew he was now experiencing...

Tsukishima Kei was in love.

And he had absolutely no clue what to do about it.

"...and I thought it was really cool!" The girl finished her speech with another big smile that made Tsukishima's heart flutter in his chest. There was only one problem.

Shit, I wasn't listening.

Tsukishima's mouth parted as he helplessly gazed down at the (h/c)-haired girl, silently pleading for some sort of easy-way-out to come to him so that he wouldn't look even more like an idiot. Please don't think I'm stupid- I'm really not- I swear-

To his surprise, the girl simply laughed. Not a mocking laugh like he might have expected, but a bit of a knowing chuckle. "You weren't listening to a thing I said, were you?" She laughed again, the sound like a melody in his ears.

Sheepishly, he shook his head, trying to will away the flush he knew was rising on his heated cheeks. This isn't like me. I've never acted like this...

"I'm sorry, I just got lost in thought." Be the calm, cool, and collected Kei you normally are. "I don't think we've met. What's your name?" See? This isn't so bad. I've got this.

"Well, uh, actually we've been in the same class all year, this is just the first time we've really talked."

Tsukishima really wanted to die. He was the embodiment of mortification and he would have been perfectly happy if the world ended right after she finished her sentence. We're in the same class and I didn't even recognize her.

"It's alright!" The girl had raised a hand, almost as if to stop the wave of embarrassment Tsukishima was drowning in, and gave him yet another genuine smile, "You don't seem to talk to many people so I didn't expect you to remember me or anything! I'm (L/n) (Y/n) and it's great to finally talk to you, Tsukishima!"

The world was no longer allowed to end, Tsukishima wouldn't allow it. He felt like he was gently tossed into heaven itself. She doesn't think I'm an idiot AND she knows my name? She's happy to talk to me? Does she like me then?

His golden eyes scanned (Y/n) for signs that she may be experiencing the same symptoms that he was. She doesn't seem to be shaking or having any trouble speaking. But maybe she's better at hiding it? I mean, she's been noticing me for a while, so maybe she's hiding it.

(Y/n) tilted her head and her smile took on a hint of mischief, "I never got to tell you what I was saying earlier."

"O-oh?" Tsukishima internally cursed his past self for not paying attention earlier.

"I was saying that your presentation last week was really cool! You seemed to know your stuff and it was probably the only speech I actually learned a lot from."

Dinosaurs.

Last week's presentation was on Dinosaurs.

I fucking love her.

"That's how I fell in love with you, (Y/n)." Tsukishima said casually, cleaning his glasses with the hem of his shirt. "I didn't believe in love at first sight. I guess I didn't even believe in love at all but... ah... that changed. As you can see..."

The tall blond gestured almost condescendingly down to (Y/n) who glared up at him through puffy, tear-filled eyes. Each limb separately tied to a bedpost with a thick rope and mouth stuffed with a gag secured around the back of her head, the poor girl was completely immobilized.

Tsukishima slipped his glasses back on and gazed fondly at the girl he'd fallen in love with. "My father said people do crazy things when they're in love." A dark chuckle left his lips as he strode over to the bed (Y/n) lay helpless on. "I guess he's right."

He leaned over until his nose was brushing against (Y/n)'s, his golden eyes softening when they met (e/c) ones. "I really do love you (Y/n). I hope you see that. And I hope- no, I know- that you'll feel the same one day."

He angled his head and pressed a gentle kiss to her tear-streaked cheek and took a moment to appreciate the way she shivered under his warm breath as he exhaled against her neck. A smirk tugged at the corners of his lips as he hummed in satisfaction.

Standing upright once more, the tall boy slipped his hands into his pants pockets and stared down at (Y/n), his gaze turning serious. "I experience emotions I never knew existed when I'm with you. I enjoy most of those emotions. There was one, however..." he tilted his head sharply, his eyes darkening and voice going cold, "that I did not enjoy in the slightest. Do you have any idea what that might be?"

He was glaring at (Y/n) now, the girl's body squirming in trepidation as she gazed back up at him with fearful eyes. She may not have been able to answer, but she knew exactly what he was talking about.

"Rejection."

Tsukishima Kei was spitting the words of his speech out like they were trying to poison him, a bitterness lacing his cutting tone, "I worked so hard for so long to work up the courage to ask you to be mine. But you didn't wait for me. No, you picked the first guy to waltz in and ask you out."

He could see, out of the corner of his eye, (Y/n) desperately trying to talk through her gag. To deny his accusations. Even through his cold storm of anger, she still managed to send warmth to his heart.

"It's fine. I forgive you, (Y/n). I always will." Tsukishima sighed in defeat, "I just couldn't stand the idea of feeling that again. I know it's not right of me to go to extremes but... well..."

The boy tilted his head again, blond hair falling to the side as a mischievous grin spread across his face. His golden eyes snapped to meet (Y/n)'s once again flashing against the reflection of his glasses. The girl trapped on his bed shrank back into the mattress as much as her bindings would allow, tears flowing freely at Tsukishima's visage.

He was the one in control now. And he reveled in the power.

"I read up on Stockholm Syndrome." Tsukishima's voice was clearly teasing (Y/n), giving her a glimpse at a future she eventually wouldn't deny, no matter how much she insisted against it now, "Did you know that, in the situation Stockholm Syndrome got its name from, the hostages became afraid of the police and wanted to protect their captors instead of the other way around? And that was just after six days."

He couldn't hold back a derisive chuckle, looming over his own hostage with an expression of pure amusement. "I'm willing to wait more than six days if you need it, (Y/n)."

One of his hands cupped (Y/n)'s cheek and he used his thumb to gently wipe her tears away. "I'm going to take good care of you. I love you more than you could ever know. You make me feel things that I never thought I could. Things I never knew existed."

Tsukishima's teasing grin curled into a devious smirk, his eyes raking over her form ravenously. (Y/n) shivered from the intensity of his gaze.

"And right now, I'd like to feel even more."

END NOTES: This was the first one-shot I ever made.

(𝟏) 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋

ও rating. explicit

ও summary. you work for an anonymous phone sex business on campus, andyou would have never guessed that your first client would be the Atsumu Miya—most popular guy on campus who sits three seats ahead of you in calculus. and you’re pretty sure he doesn’t even know you exist. | wc. tbd.

cw/ tw. college au. nerd!reader, volleyball player Atsumu, phone sex, dirty talk, mild hurt/comfort, miscommunication, fraternity parties, rough sex, unprotected sex, praise kink, strangers to lovers

ও featuring. Atsumu x Fem!Reader 

ও an. okay, i turned my self-indulgent fic into a multi-part fic:) please comment on this post if you’d like to be tagged. NOTE: the Taglist is closed | follow #📓 .one missed call for updates.

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

Please remember to read all content warnings before proceeding.

Part One—You get your first caller, and can’t tell why he sounds so familiar…until you do.

cw/ tw. phone sex, praise kink, pet names (ex. baby, sweetheart)

Part Two—After weeks of phone calls, you get to know Atsumu which makes pretending a little more difficult.

cw/ tw. sexting, phone sex, praise kink, pet names (ex. sweetheart, pretty girl)

Part Three—Things get even more difficult when Atsumu needs help with his homework before his next game, and who better to help him than the class tutor.

cw/ tw. sexting, phone sex, praise kink, pet names (ex. sweetheart)

Part Four—The truth always finds a way of coming out.

cw/ tw. tba…

Part Five—Atsumu confronts you.

cw/ tw. tba…

© satorini 2022—do not copy, paste, or translate my works anywhere.

໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১ because its iwa day!!! if you have any drabble requests for him today, i'll answer as much of them as i can! so ♡♡ i invITE the iwa thirst!!

tease

| 4 |

↳ Summary: You came with the intentions of your best friend landing a job as a stripper. You never meant to catch the eyes of the king stripper of the establishment- Jeon Jungkook, yourself. With what was supposed to be a harmless way of paying off college debt faster you find yourself falling into a very odd and passionate relationship with your new mentor. Between infidelity, passion and jealousy there’s never a dull moment at Cherry Bomb.

↳ Pairing: Stripper!Jungkook/Reader

↳ Genre: Smut, fluff, angst, drama, slice of life, relationship problems without the relationship, reader is such a shy baby protect her, MUTUAL pining, so much sexual frustration,  

Word count: 10k

Previous | Next

Tags: Partial nudity, that’s it!

Song mood

Warning: This story touches on both sexual harassment and abuse, please read with caution if any of these things are triggers to you. Additional warnings will be given when a chapter present them.

—-

“God how did she ever get this job when she’s flat as a board and stiff as one too.”

Your grip on your water bottle tightened as you forcefully swallowed both it’s contents and the bubble in the back of your throat threatening to escape. This wasn’t the first snide comment you had heard all morning, in fact, you had lost count at how much brutality you had been put under by all of the girls.

Keep reading

𐑺 ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄 — 𝒯𝐻𝐸 𝐿𝒪𝒱𝐸 𝒴𝒪𝒰 𝒲𝒜𝒩𝒯

it’s almost rare for the student counsellor to actually give…. counselling. but maybe yuuta’s life will start looking up now that he’s found something to protect.

RETURN TO MASTERLIST | NEXT CHAPTER

summary. university / college au. fem reader. yandere nerd yūta. jock yuuji. aged up characters. manipulation. obsession. bullying. violence. unrequited feelings. gojo is student councillor. a little introduction to jujutsu high. this chapter is from yūta’s perspective. wc, 3.8k.

note. first chapter of the series + it’s just getting us started but i’m really excited about this :) most of moving into my apartment is basically done so i’m so happy to finally be able to put more time back into writing again this weekend, enjoy !!!

“bullies, huh? this is unusual.” the pocky between gojo’s teeth crunches as he speaks, swinging the half finished, pink stick around in the air as his long legs stretch over his desk. “you rarely come to me for advice, okkotsu yuuta.”

he’s out of options, yuuta knows that — but still he came here, to the student counsellor, even though he knows he can’t get involved, he can’t help him. it’s made even worse by the fact that they’re apparently related in some twisted, confusing way that he doesn’t care too much about to pry more into. but has he really got anybody else to turn to at this point? he’ll take any advice he can get right now, no matter how useless.

“have you.. ever been bullied?” yuuta’s voice is quiet as he speaks, pulling nervously at the already stretched sleeves of his sweater. it’s a little more oversized than it’s intended to be — probably to do with him fidgeting with the fabric, it was a bad habit. the neckline hangs loose around his collarbones, sleeves covering his hands slightly as he rests at the other side of gojo’s desk.

they pick on that too, the way he dresses — the way he looks. they pick on everything. he’s brought back from his thoughts by gojo snorting at his question, like he’s just told him a joke instead of confided in him.. like it’s not his job to comfort him.

“pffff— course not. i’m too strong and handsome for that.” another crunch from the pocky inbetween the snowy haired counsellors fingers and yuuta feels his eye twitch.

“i thought you were supposed to make me feel better—“ he really was a lousy counsellor. isn’t his job to make students feel better? he’s flippant and doesn’t seem like a teacher but there’s slight moments, where you can see that he cherishes watching after the students, guiding them to be their best despite the way all of this really serves as his own form of entertainment.

but right now, yuuta’s still waiting for that part of him to show.

gojo snorts as he shakes the now empty pocky box in his hand, sighing dramatically when he realises he’s just swallowed the last pink coated stick before he’s pushing himself forward with a pout on his lips. his elbows rest on the desk as his huge figure looms closer, looking over his dark rimmed frames at yuuta before he hums his next words. “but, the problem is your mindset.”

another sigh and the student councillor lazily throws the empty snack packet into the bin on the other side of the room, still managing to make it into the small tin can with frightening accuracy despite the lazy throw. but he looks smug as his long arms stretch to cross behind his head, ruffling the snowy peaks of his hair slightly. “you can’t imagine a stronger future version of yourself. you think this’ll be your fate forever, right?”

the statement makes yuuta shift on his seat, swallowing as his gaze remains on his teacher. he’s gotten his attention now, he can hear his chair squeak as he moves and the tone of his voice is more serious now than the usual playful, aloof air his words normally carry.

“ah, well. it’s not too late for you to change that. maybe find something to protect, hm?” gojo hums the words like the answer is obvious, like this is what he should’ve done all along. the grin on his lips looks accomplished, almost all-knowing and it makes yuuta gape at him slightly as he tries to decipher what that even means.

“but.. what about the—“ he begins, to get a little more— something to help him.. because what does he mean something to protect? like a bodyguard? or… or does he mean something more valuable? but his words are cut off when the looming figure of his councillor pushes himself to stand.

“oh well! don’t you think that was a good session, okkotsu~?” gojo stretches as he speaks, singing his words as he returns to his usual demeanour and yuuta looks as confused as he feels as he stares up at him, wide eyed— like he’s just been beaten by a common enemy when he was only a step away from the final boss.

“w-wait, i—“ his words try to come out all at once as he hurries to stand, almost fumbling slightly with his backpack while he tries to keep his councillors attention. he wasn’t done yet, he still had so much to ask, so much to talk about, he—

“don’t mind, i’ve got faith in you, yuuta. just.. don’t let it get to you, yeah?” gojo’s hand is warm when it rests on yuuta’s shoulder but the force of it is surprising when he’s ushering him towards the door. the expression on his face is annoyingly bright compared to the gloom that coats yuuta, like an aura that’s wrapped around him— his very own personal rain cloud and he feels like he’s suddenly forgotten his umbrella.

“but—“ he tries again but he stumbles with his next step, almost dropping his papers for his next class.

“ahhh~ looks like it’s about my lunch break, sorry about that. remember what i said, hm? give it your best, make sure you get along with everyone.” gojo gives him another grin as he claps his hands together, singing his words like it’s meant as his own little insufferable, motivational cheer.

“ah— but i.. i wasnt….“ yuuta doesn’t manage to finish the remainder of his sentence as the door closes, the latter of his words drifting into nothing more than a unintelligible whisper as his hands fall by his sides “… done.” he sighs as he brushes back his hair from his face, shoulders slumping as his already messed up belongings scatter along the hallway at his feet.

as if the day could get any worse.

but still, he can’t help but continue thinking about gojo’s words despite how little help they serve him right now. he’s still unsure what he meant by that, should he be looking for something? is this supposed to be a game or some weird scavenger hunt… hes never really had much trust in the snowy haired teacher to begin with, but still….

yuuta sighs as he drops to his knees to pick up the pages that have scattered from his notebook, it was already messed up anyway — from his previous run in with the older students who have been picking on him since the year started. the writing is almost faded completely from being flushed, pages crisping and curling as they dry, stuffing it into his bag won’t make much of a difference when it’s already ruined.

but he still manages to push himself to stand as the bell rings.

the walk back to class is as somber as ever, he’s late, albeit not by any fault of his own, but if anything— he’s glad that the hallways are clear and he’s left to mind his own business this time. he wishes he could spend the rest of the school year like this, unbothered… in silence…. left alone. is it really okay for someone like him to even go to school? all he seems to do is cause trouble for others, would anyone notice if he stopped coming?

“okkotsu yuuta, you’re here.” the way the teacher draws out yuuta’s name is sympathetic, pitiful as he knocks politely on the classroom door and she takes in his appearance. he’s disheveled, notes sticking out of his bag in a mess of dyed paper and she’d scold any other student— but not him. not when she looks at him like he’s got enough on his plate already. there’s nothing wrong with him, he was simply a loner, he didn’t need people’s sympathy for that.

but still it’s humiliating, the walk to his desk— third row from the back and his backpack is loud as it hits the floor, followed by the squeak of his seat as he drops into it with an awkward sorry that earns him a few sharp looks from the seats infront. he really wants this day to be over, this class, this week.

yuuta fumbles with his glasses as he takes them out of their case, trying to move quietly albeit clumsily by nature as he quickly tries to keep up with the notes. the teacher nor the class were going to wait for him to stop feeling sorry for himself, so he throws himself into his work— like he always does. it’s why he’s the top student afterall, not that that did anything for his already shaky reputation amongst everyone else. a loner and a nerd…. great.

“psst..” the low sound goes unheard as he scribbles onto the soaked paper of his notepad, pushing back his mused bangs again as focuses on his work. there’s barely ten minutes of class left and he has to make up for the rest he just missed, he could stay during lunch maybe… it’s not like he has plans, he normally ate alone so he should be able to—

“pssst, hey! do you want to borrow my notes?” the call is louder this time but still hushed and despite the day he’s had, yuuta would still recognise your voice anywhere— he’d recognise you anywhere.

you were his classmate.

you’re pretty, really pretty— like the sun, all bright smiles and kindness but you’re well liked, loved really. you’re the girl in the corridor that will always get a wave or a grin from anyone passing by, teacher or student, you’ll stop to chat about people’s day, you know everyone by name— that’s just who you are. you’re popular, friendly, sociable.. you’re everything yuuta isn’t, but you still notice to him, albeit the words exchanged are short and nothing too in-depth but he’s began to savour those fleeting interactions,

and to say he had acquired a crush on you would be… an understatement. it was unavoidable afterall, innocent infatuation was all it was, but you were.. you. you practically have everyone falling at your feet already, he’s no exception.

“o-oh… uh, no it’s fine. i can read these.” his voice cracks when he lets his face lift to meet your gaze and he feels his cheeks burn when you hold him there, smiling at him with such a familiarity that he almost feels his lungs tremble on his next inhale as he suddenly looks away shyly.

yuuta swallows loudly as he tries to busy himself with something else, pulling at the already stretched sleeves of his oversized sweater, sifting through his notes on his desk. you’re still turned round in your seat, fourth from the back and immediately infront of him and he can feel you looking at him.

“but they’re all faded, wait— i have mine right here, you can just give me them back tomorrow or whenever you’re done.” you were so kind, your voice is bright when you speak again, you don’t shy away from interacting with him despite his awkward demeanour, his social skills may be lacking but you still speak to him like you’ve known him for years despite the way you only share a few classes, different majors. you must’ve noticed his notes when he walked into the room, you were considerate like that… observant, you were perfect.

“ah— really, its.. it’s fine.” yuuta still can’t look at you, not without feeling like his heart is going to break out of his ribs and crawl it’s way to you.

“come on, i insist, okkotsu. here you go, they’re right here.” the way you say his name makes his chest squeeze and his cheeks burn. his eyes flutter up to you slightly as you reach forward to grab something from your desk before sliding it onto his, letting him see the class notes that he’s been struggling to catch up on due to his….. meeting with the councillor earlier.

“t-thanks… um, i’ll give them back to you later. it won’t take me long, i can copy them over lunch.” yuuta’s fingertips curl against the paper as he takes it from you, pulling it closer as his drowsy gaze scans the pages— it’s like your handing him a part of yourself.

“no rush, it’s fine!” you giggle as you respond to him and he’s always liked the sound of your laugh, it’s different to his— it’s bright and pretty, it’s beautiful.. it suits you. he pushes his glasses up his nose as he gives you another look, something close to a smile twitches at the corner of his flushed cheeks whenever his eyes lift to meet yours. so instead he chooses to focus on the paper infront of him as he tries to quell his increasing heart rate.. and it does, for a moment.

your writing is really pretty, yuuta doesn’t wonder if you’re watching him now, he’s too transfixed with tracing his finger over the raised paper, following the lines drawn by your hands as he feels something warm and bloom in his chest. you’ve used a bright coloured pen, doodled cutely at the corners, curled your words prettily— it’s exactly how he expected your handwriting to look.

“hm?” you hum curiously and your lashes flutter with your next blink as you look at him kindly.

“ah.. nothing, sorry.. just, thank you.” he hadn’t meant to even speak it at all, so the realisation that he’d said it out loud— infront of you of all people, makes him flush even brighter. yuuta’s cheeks have probably taken a noticeably red tone and if you notice, you don’t say anything— not wanting to point out his discomfort or embarrass him further as he lets his head hang lower in the hopes of hiding it. you were just kind like that. it’s not fair, how was he supposed to not fall in love with you?

love…. was that really what this was?

you offer him a no problem and another smile before you turn back around in your seat again. but he already misses having your attention on him as he fidgets slightly with your notes on his desk.

yuuta’s not sure what takes over him, hes probably still blushing— reeling from your interaction and the fact that you gave him your notes but he decides to try it for himself, to lean forward in your desk and talk to you a little more. there’s still so much more to talk about, to learn from you, even if you could just look at him again. just once.

“um, hey..” his voice still sounds quietly despite the way he’s hyping himself up in his mind, his words have always had a sort of gentle, kind tone compared to his other classmates. the characteristic only seeming to aid him being drowned out in discussions or class conversations until he opts to stop speaking entirely. so you don’t hear him and he finds himself looking around the class to make sure nobody notices before he tries again.

“hey.” yuuta leans closer this time, over his desk as he tries not to draw any unwanted attention to himself. but still— you’re scribbling away in your notebook, half-listening to whatever your desk mate is telling you about and still not noticing him as he breathes out a long, sort of humiliated sigh.

but his next attempt is successful, albeit hard to ignore when he chooses to tap hesitantly on your shoulder before flinching away when you turn to face him. he’s suddenly warm again, but you’re smiling before he can even say anything and suddenly he’s not as confident as he was a second ago.

“sorry, uh— did you finish the homework assignment? i heard you talking with sensei yesterday, that you were having trouble..” yuuta’s learned a lot from your conversations with your friends and teachers, you speak a little loudly afterall. it’s not that he’s listening it’s just.. that he happens to be there, in the corridor or just passing by the open class door. he once read that to be loved is to be known, right? and you’re friends, kinda, even though he may be crushing on you or kinda in love with you but… it’s normal for him to want to know your favourite food and your preferred route to commute home, your favourite breakfast food, your ideal date… that’s what anyone would do for something they like, isn’t it?

his eyes widen as he realises how you might’ve taken what he said, he doesn’t want to lose you, not when you’re finally making progress. “but i—i wasn’t meaning to eavesdrop or anything, i just—“

you don’t comment on yuuta’s fumble, he wonders if you even noticed it when you reply light heartedly, “ah, you heard that? it’s kinda embarrassing but yeah, i just couldn’t figure out one of the questions. have you completed yours?” your elbow rests on his desk as you turn, propping your head up to blink at him and you feel so close he wonders if you’d flinch away if he reached out to touch you.

“yeah.. i— uh, finished mine already.” truth be told, he finished it the day he received it, this was his thing, it was all he had. the homework was easy, although he finds it adorable that you tend to struggle with things like this.. one of your quirks that he’s picked up on… it makes him think as his eyes widen slightly with a dull realisation.

“you’re always so on time, i wish i had your motivation it’s so impressive, okkotsu.” you’re smiling at him again, at him as you lean back in your seat and the look alone almost gives yuuta the confidence he needs to speak his sudden idea into existence as he tries to sit up straighter.

“if…. um,” he begins as he scratches at the back of his neck and you hang onto his words, really listening to him like he has you caught up in a story that you’re so eager to hear the end of, “if you need help, if.. if you want.. i can h-help y—“

“babe!” yuuta’s sentence is drowned out by the sudden call from the doorway to the classroom as it swings open loudly, making you and half of the class jolt in their seats as you whip around to face the source of the sound. it’s followed by a peek of pink, messy hair as itadori leans himself into view, commanding all of the attention in the room despite the way he’s only looking at you with a bright grin.

“i’ll get you here, okay? i got outta practice early!” his hand points to just outside the classroom as he rests his body weight in the doorway. his hair is damp slightly, most likely from a shower in the training room and his team varsity hugs him cozily as he makes himself comfortable staring in at you. it’s almost like he forgets where he is completely until the teacher’s bark from the front of the class brings him back.

“itadori yuuji, get out. you’re not part of this class.”

“sorry, sensei! my bad!” itadori’s reply earns him a few chuckles from your classmates as he raises his arms up to apologise, but it earns him an eye roll from yuuta as he watches him bow before enthusiastically closing the door again.. after giving you another bright smile ofcourse.

itadori yuuji, is captain of the jujutsu sorcerers football team, a sports scholarship student and unfortunately.. your boyfriend. he is charming, he’ll give him that much, he’s handsome too, funny— depending on who you ask but before all that, he’s .. stupid and yuuta hates that about him.

you deserve someone better than that, someone who will take care of you, make a home for you— all your boyfriend has going for him is his muscled frame, insane strength, good connections… but his grades are bad, horrible. that’s why he relies on you to help him study, to make sure he doesn’t get kicked off the team and lose his spot as captain. it’s not fair that he puts so much pressure on you but you just laugh like it’s no big deal, offering him help like he’s not just using you.

sure, he’s never been particularly unkind to him personally.. or anyone at all, but isn’t stealing his love enough to justify his feelings towards him?

what’s even more annoying is you apologise for your boyfriend when the teacher raises an eyebrow in your direction. when you shouldn’t be apologising, itadori’s an idiot but you’re smiling and yuuta hates that. it’s different to the ones you give him, it’s toothier and brighter — like it’s dripping with affection, love, and suddenly you’re desperate to get out of class, to steal another look at your dumb oaf of a boyfriend who’s laugh you can still hear through the door as he jokes with the vice captain, todo. he’s taken your attention from him, stolen it so selfishly.

people always refer to you both as the ‘it couple’ on campus— he hears the whispers, the way people fawn over you both, saying how cute you are, how it’s like something out of a romance manga whenever they see you. you attend all of his games— wearing his jersey, he walks you to class, waits for you after school. don’t you find him annoying? he’s always there, always with you, always holding you—kissing you… don’t you think that’s unfair? what about everyone else, what about him?

you don’t even turn back around to let yuuta finish his question after he was interrupted and the bell rings before he can touch you again to continue it, you’re in such a rush to see itadori that even when you call back a quick see ya, okkotsu! you don’t even stick around to hear him reply as his “y-yeah, see you.” goes lost in the air like smoke.

you barely even look at yuuta as he begins to sort through your notes on his desk, handling them like they’re made of glass— fragile beneath his touch and he wonders if you feel as soft, he wishes he could’ve felt your skin when he reached for you earlier. he doesn’t think it’s fair at all that his crush seems to have one of her own, like he’s the second love interest but not the male lead that gets the girl in the shoujo and he hates it. he hates him.

but somehow, when he goes to slot the paper carefully between the pages of his notepad— his dark gaze is drawn to the curl of your name, the way it’s signed with a scribbled love heart and he finds his fingertips reaching to trace along the pretty letters once more. yuuta’s not sure what prompts it, but suddenly he feels like he’s back in that office again, shifting uncomfortably on his chair at the other side of the counsellors desk as his words echo.

something to protect, right? what’s that if not something to own, something that’s his.

yuuta thinks he may have found that already.

© gojoath. do not copy, repost, modify or translate my works. please refrain from copying my layouts / themes.

much ado about nothing chapter 6 - plug!eren x reader - 18+!!!

DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. minors and ageless blogs, please do not read below the cut.

ummmmm HIII so sorry i know i still owe you guys a million drabbles and i haven't been posting as much but this chapter is just chock-full of drama and i'm so excited to share it bc hehehe it's a rollercoaster. also we should def stop listening to sasha. sneaky posting; have fun babies!!!! i cannot WAIT to hear your thoughts

specific cws: alcohol use, violence (like fist-fighting level not insane), mentions of drugs, swearing, incredibly awkward tension lol

-

“The course of true love never did run smooth.” A Midsummer Night’s Dream by William Shakespeare (Act I, Scene 1)

You’ve done a lot of partying in your days, but you never thought a hangover could float over your shoulders for damn near two weeks. Then again, maybe that rancid taste in your mouth is regret instead of the practical gallons of liquor you’d guzzled that night.

Historia tells you to delete the evidence, have a glass of wine with your friends, focus on your studies, put meaning back into the happy distractions that make up life. Sasha tells you to suck it up, download Tinder, do something other than wallow in your bed with nothing on but the fairy lights along your ceiling. Ymir tells you men aren’t worth embarrassing yourself for, maybe start swinging the other way, that she knows a few very pretty single ladies.

You meet all of their advice with a slow nod, sometimes a chuckle, put your head down, and go about your business, letting the shame follow you around like a little rain cloud from building to building around campus. Even your students have noticed something’s making you tick; Falco and Gabi left a package of Crumbl cookies in your office the other day, and for the first time, Zofia has begun to raise her hand in class. It’s heartwarming, really, but it doesn’t solve your problem.

Problems would be the better term for it. To start, there was your royal fuck-up with Eren. You had over-indulged and gotten a little too flirty to be “friends”, sure, it happens, but something had snapped in you when you saw Eren with that leggy blonde hanging all over him at the club.

Breeze. Even wearing naught but a skirt and some thin tights with the early winter wind whipping around your legs, just the thought of her name makes your blood boil. She was perfect, all bouncy and easygoing and cool, hippie clothes. To be fair, she was the one with the true claim on Eren; you had dug your own grave, far too confident in your ability to be just friends with someone so…so Eren.

Your friendship had been growing closer and closer by the passing day before that night, texting at nearly every minute of the day and spending time together wherever you could fit it in your full schedule. You had made plans to bake Christmas cookies together, even despite Eren’s protests that Christmas was a “capitalistic hellhole of a holiday season”, had acted out your favorite Shakespeare scenes in your pajamas, much to Eren’s amusement, and had made a habit of staying up late into the night watching and rewatching your favorite animes, heatedly debating characters. It had been butterfly-inducing, dizzying, perfect. Until you had indulged in one too many shots and humiliated yourself, that is.

Seeing Breeze all over Eren had made you realize the severity of your mistake trying to keep Eren in your life, realize the warm feeling blooming in your chest every time he grinned at you, all teeth and his little chin dimple, was decidedly much more than a platonic appreciation for a new friend. It turned out that you’d been right from the start; you weren’t his type, and to make matters worse, his actual taste in women had been thrust in your face unexpectedly.

When you had awoken the next morning, debating on whether to fall back asleep immediately or dash to the toilet, Historia had greeted you with a sorry smile, a cup of coffee, and a quiet word of advice to look through your phone. Knowing your drunken self, you pulled up your phone calls first, wanting to make sure you hadn’t accidentally Facetimed your mom to tell her how much fun you were having or something cringe-worthy of the sort. But no, of course it had to be much worse than that.

There was a phone call– to Eren. Your call log had recorded a one minute and thirty-six second phone call between you and Eren, one you obviously didn’t remember making.

“Please tell me you were with me when I called Eren,” you groan, so naive, “did I completely embarrass myself?”

Historia blushes. “Well, he didn’t answer, if it’s any consolation–”

“Oh, thank god–”

“But that didn’t exactly stop you,” Historia fiddles with the edge of her t-shirt, “you left him a voicemail.”

Even through your throbbing headache, you shoot right up out of bed at that. “What?! What did I say?”

“I don’t know,” Historia moans woefully, putting her hands over her face, “I’m sorry, I tried to stop you, but you ran off as soon as you started talking. By the time I caught up to you, you were already hanging up.”

“So, there’s a voicemail from drunk me on Eren’s phone, and neither of us have any idea what it says?”

“Correct.”

“My life fucking sucks.”

“It’s about to get a whole lot worse,” Historia says, throwing your sheets back and snuggling beside you in the bed, burrowing her face in your shoulder, “check your texts.”

And oh, had it gotten worse. Your drunken, foolish text sat in your outbox, unanswered, unread, and inexcusable. Six months later and you were right back where you started, begging a ghost of a man to explain why he couldn’t love you.

> hi luke, i’m sorta ficked up, but i misz you. why did yoi never call me???? you owe me at leasttg that. a fcking explanation,. 

Storming through campus, coat tucked around your shoulders against the biting chill, you wince at the memory. You haven’t deleted the unanswered text yet, keeping it stale in your phone as a reminder of what happens when you get too attached to people you know aren’t good for you.

You thought you’d be more heartbroken over the text to Luke and its lack of an answer, but surprisingly, you’re not. It’s Eren haunting your thoughts, Luke’s just the placeholder for all of your anger at this point. Eren isn’t to blame for all of this, you are, and that’s why you can’t bring yourself to face him, can’t bring yourself to answer any of the hesitant texts he’s sent you since that god-awful night.

You’re not in college anymore, you have to keep reminding yourself. You’re twenty-four, and you’d like to think you’re past the phase of your life where you’re handing your heart out to anyone that passes like it’s a Costco sample. You aren’t even sure if you want Luke anymore at this point, if you could even speak to him if you bumped into him these days. He had, admittedly, treated you like dirt, wrenched your heart out from your chest and left it on the sidewalk to collect dust. At least you can hate him, hate what he did to you, hate that you’re stuck on him like a broken record skipping to the same chorus every few weeks.

You can’t hate Eren, though. You can be disappointed in him for entertaining his terrible ex-girlfriend, not aloud of course because he hadn’t actually mentioned her to you himself, but you can do it internally. Even that isn’t enough to make you feel better; not only had he not trusted you, not felt safe or comfortable enough with you to share the skeletons in his closet, but he was likely zooming full-speed down a dead-end street, the way Sasha tells the story. Your heart aches for him out of a painful mixture of pining and fervent concern.

Your only solution so far has been to dive headfirst into your coursework and your students; it hasn’t done much to distract you, but with finals on the horizon, it’s not the worst method of coping you’ve come up with in your days.

Your newly invigorated dedication to your work and your courses are the cause of you dragging yourself across campus to 104, desperate for caffeine and practically a corpse after two weeks of near-constant self-shaming keeping you up at night.

The smell of the coffee shop, earthy and warm, hits you almost as hard as the blasting heat inside, and you practically slouch upon entering, the weight of the cozy atmosphere cocooning you like a warm blanket. If there’s one place that will always feel like a hug, it’s 104 Beans, your coffee shop of choice (and obligation, considering the small size of your campus) for the last six years.

Pieck, your favorite barista, greets you in her typical dreamy manner. “Hi love, same as usual?”

“Hey Pieck,” you greet her with a weary smile. As you dig around in your bag for your wallet, the extent of your exhaustion versus the amount of work you have left to do surfaces in your brain. “Actually…no, not my usual. Can I get a quad shot Americano?”

Pieck pauses where she’s scribbling onto a paper cup with a Sharpie, eyes flitting back up to you in disbelief. “A quad shot Americano?”

“A quad shot Americano.”

“Jesus,” Pieck sighs, eyes wide, “work’s that rough, huh? Black coffee not going to cut it?”

“The shakes will be worth it,” you confirm, swiping your card through the machine.

“Can I please make it a cappuccino then? You’re going to need something creamy to get all that espresso down,” Pieck looks back up at you, eyes pleading.

“Fine,” you sigh, “but–”

“Almond milk, I know,” Pieck winks at you, sliding your cup down the assembly line of baristas working amongst the hissing of the espresso machine and the pleasant, folky music floating from the speakers. “We’re a little busy, so give me five and I’ll bring it over to you.”

You smile gratefully and collect your things, turning to scout out what’s hopefully a quiet table in the corner, when a pair of arms tossed around your shoulders stops you. The familiar scent of fruity perfume tickles your nose, and you slump against the tight grip in relief.

“You made it out of the house!” Sasha’s eyes glow with pride, as if you’d just run a marathon.

“It’s not like I’m a hermit,” you roll your eyes, “I have class five days a week.”

“You don’t go anywhere besides class or your house though, so you still get participation points,” Sasha grins, shaking your shoulders, “how are you feeling?”

“Well…”

Sasha’s expression crumples. “Still that bad, huh?”

“The Luke thing was pathetic of me, but honestly, it’s not haunting me as much as I thought it would,” you admit, pausing for a moment to allow Sasha to grab her coffee from the barista when her name is called, “the one thing that’s really sticking with me is the Eren issue.”

“Like, the voicemail? Or Breeze?”

“Both. I would give anything to know what that voicemail said, but whatever was going on between us aside, I just hope he’s okay, y’know? With Breeze back in the picture and everything.”

Sasha bites into her bottom lip and glances around the coffee shop, checking every face at every table. You know that face; she’s hiding something.

“What?”

“What?” Sasha cocks her head innocently. You nearly smack her.

“You’re not telling me something.”

“Uh…okay, yeah, I’m not, but I’m not sure if I should. I mean, you’re actually out of the house–”

“I leave my house plenty!”

“You know what I mean,” Sasha scoffs, “it’s just…if you’re feeling better, I don’t want to throw you back into the deep end.”

You have no words for that, absolutely despising the way that she is completely correct. Whatever information lies behind Sasha’s bitten lip could either make you feel a hundred times better or a hundred times worse, and you’re stuck debating on whether you should gamble or not when Sasha makes the decision for you.

 “Fine, you wore me down,” she sighs.

“I didn’t even say anything,” you point out, raising an eyebrow.

“You don’t have to,” Sasha says, annoyed, “you have this, like, fucking puppy dog look. Makes me sick. Get your coffee, I’ll find a table, and we can talk.”

Like clockwork, the moment Sasha steps away, Pieck grabs your attention and hands your coffee over along with an extra hot cup half-full of steamed almond milk. You look at her questioningly, and she merely shrugs.

“That’s a lot of espresso. I know you’re in, like, your depressed writer phase right now, but I figured a little extra milk would come in handy.”

“You’re the best,” you smile at her affectionately, thinking absentmindedly that you should invite her out to Scout’s sometime. Before she can respond, Pieck’s gaze lands on something just over your shoulder. You can smell him even before you turn around, musky cologne and a little hint of weed. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

“Hey Pieck. Usual?” His throaty timbre cuts through the thick air, sharp as a knife. Pieck nods politely and gets to work on his coffee, forgoing a trip to the cash register. That tracks; Pieck’s hooded eyes are bloodshot more often than not.

“Excuse me,” you mutter, trying to sneak around him, but Eren’s quicker than you, side-stepping to cut you off.

“Hey stranger,” he smiles down at you, but it’s tense, nervous, “trying to run off on me?”

“Didn’t even realize that was you, sorry,” you lie, offering him a thin smile in return. You spot Sasha gaping at you across the cafe, waving her arms wildly and mouthing What the fuck?. You can’t help but feel similarly.

“It’s been awhile, how are you?”

“M’fine, just really busy with school.” God, you hate this, this awkward small talk barely parsing its way through the jungle of things left unsaid between you two. “You?”

“Fine,” Eren looks around awkwardly, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Good,” you speak directly into your coffee, unable to stomach the emerald green peering down at you.

“You know,” Eren’s words come out quite like he can’t believe he’s saying them, “I kinda thought you were avoiding me.”

“Did you?” Your voice is caught in your throat, coming out in a pathetic squeak. Has he heard the voicemail? The startling turn the conversation’s taken must be visible all over your face, because Sasha’s flailing arms beckoning you over to the table grow more urgent.

“You haven’t texted me back, haven’t seen you in a couple weeks,” Eren’s incredibly focused on his shoes, kicking one Vans sneaker idly back and forth on the floor and making a squeaking sound, “so yeah, sort of.”

“I’m busy,” you deadpan, praying to any god you can remember the name of that you’ll just disintegrate right where you stand. Eren meets your eyes again, smirks disbelievingly.

“You said that.”

Something in his tone annoys you, something about his insinuation that he knows you’re blatantly lying, that he’s teasing you over your embarrassment, ignites a little flame in your chest. You scowl at him.

“I mean, you must be pretty busy too.”

“Why’s that?”

“Breeze just got back into town, didn’t she?” No going back now. Eren’s face blanches for a moment, features growing pale, but he manages to school his face back into that nonchalant pout that you want to slap right off his face.

“Historia told you?” He doesn’t sound surprised; in face, he sounds almost expectant, like he knew you’d find out at some point. It stakes the embers burning in your chest.

“She’s my best friend, so yeah.” This feels like an argument. It shouldn’t be an argument, but your clipped tone is pushing it in that direction. You’ve spent the last two weeks reminding yourself that you have no claim on Eren, no reason to be hurt or upset, but here you are, feeling that familiar rush of anger coursing through your veins.

“I mean, we haven’t been hanging out or anything, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Who said I was worried?”

Eren’s eyebrows knit together, a little frown playing at his mouth. “I don’t know, I mean–”

“Look, Sasha’s waiting for me,” you point over Eren’s shoulder to the little two-top table, where Sasha has stilled within the blink of an eye, shooting Eren an innocent smile and a little wave. “I’d love to catch up, but maybe another time.”

“It was good seeing you.” Eren looks confused, albeit, a little bit hurt, and you hate it. Why is that so much worse, even worse than the sight of him with Breeze hanging off of his arm? His little pout puts a needle through your ballooning anger, and you deflate, sighing.

“I’ll see you around, I’m sure.”

“Yeah,” Eren takes his coffee from Pieck and ambles towards the door, sparing you one last glance over his shoulder. Unwilling to hold his eyes any longer, you scurry to your table, just having realized that Pieck forgot to put a coffee sleeve around your cup and that it’s been burning your hand for the last several minutes.

“Ow! Shit!” You practically crash land across from Sasha, dropping your cups in synchronicity and shaking your red palms around in the air to cool them down.

“What was that?” Sasha hisses, leaning across the table so viciously that your drinks nearly topple over.

“He just showed up!”

“You didn’t have to talk to him.”

“I didn’t try to. He just, like, materialized behind me and started talking. What was I supposed to do? Run away?”

“Little shit,” Sasha swears, glaring at the door as if her anger can shoot through it like a laser beam, cut Eren down where he’s surely almost a block down the street by now, “what did he say?”

“He asked if I’ve been avoiding him," you say, twirling your wooden coffee stirrer through your drink idly and trying to look as if your heart’s not still beating at what’s sure to be a dangerous rate.

“Well, haven’t you?”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t about to tell him that. He got all smug about it,” you scoff, the replayed scene of Eren’s self-assured smirk wiping off of his face bringing you a little bit of petty satisfaction, “until I brought up Breeze.”

Sasha’s eyes grow wide, and she looks around the coffee shop again, as if Eren or Breeze might come popping out of one of the large potted plants in the corners. “That’s actually what I wanted to tell you. What did he say about it?”

“What did you hear?” You narrow your eyes at her, and she narrows hers back.

“You first.”

“He didn’t say much, just looked really surprised that I brought her up. Said they haven’t been hanging out.”

“That’s bullshit,” Sasha snorts, rolling her eyes. Something in your chest that had begun to glimmer, something akin to hope, feels like it just got a bucket of ice-water poured over it. You cock your head, furrow your brows.

“How would you know?”

“Because Hitch and I grabbed some coffee–”

“Hitch? I thought that was a–”

“Okay, don’t crucify me, I know,” Sasha holds her hands up defensively, “it was supposed to be a one night stand, but…I don’t know. She’s cool.”

“Cool?” Even through your desperation for anything Eren-related after a two week drought, you smile knowingly at her. Sasha’s not hard to read, especially when her face goes bright red from chin to forehead.

“Yes,” she hisses, “cool. Anyway, we came by a few days ago, and Eren was here. With Breeze.”

“I mean, I expected as much.”

You’re lying, you’re so lying. The only consolation you’ve had over the last two weeks that you’re not a complete moron is the hope that maybe, just maybe, Eren’s just as forlorn as you, laying around and wishing his phone would buzz with your name on it, wishing you’d pop up at his door with a bag of popcorn ready for movie night. Instead, your worst suspicions have been confirmed, and not only is Eren very much involved with Breeze again, but he had lied straight to your face about it. Ouch.

“They weren’t like, holding hands or anything. Honestly, it looked like they were fighting.”

“Well, what did Hitch say about it?” You don’t even know if you want to know, but with your brain short-circuiting inside your skull, your mouth has free reign to seek out information that will be about as soothing as lemon juice on a papercut.

“Eren won’t talk to any of them about her,” Sasha burns her tongue on her coffee and sucks in a sharp breath, “not even Armin, apparently. She said he’s been moody lately.”

“Wonder why,” you mumble, mulling all of this new information over in your head. Breeze is bad for him, makes him crazy, you already know that. But you didn’t think it would start this soon– you feel like if anything, he should be ecstatic that his long-lost love has finally come back to him. And he can stop trying to replace her, your brain adds helpfully, only doubling the watery ache swelling in your chest.

“Who cares?” Sasha rips open a granola bar, biting into it and continuing to speak with her mouth full. “That’s why you’ve got to stop avoiding him.”

“Huh? That seems like the opposite–”

“No,” Sasha cuts you off, an air of authority in her normally chipper voice, “you’re not going to cower in the corner just because Eren’s back with his shitty ex girlfriend–”

“It’s not just because of Breeze,” you correct her, “it’s because of that voicemail. I have no idea what I said. There’s a lot that’s contributing to my self-induced isolation, trust me.”

“Regardless,” Sasha mouths around another bite of her granola bar, “the only thing that will make you feel better is being around him.”

“That sounds a little contradictory–”

“Trust me,” Sasha interrupts you again, “the best way to make a guy come around is to be up in his face, flaunting how hot and single you are, and to not give him an ounce of your attention. It’s a tried and true method, I promise.”

It turns out that you are a beacon for those with bad ideas, evidently, because later that night, you’ve ended up at Scout’s, cuddled up against the bar with Sasha despite Historia’s fervent protests. If Historia shows up later, just to “check in” (read: see what’s come of Sasha’s terrible plan), you won’t be surprised. She’s prone to being the mom friend and the harbinger of gossip, but she hasn’t shown face quite yet. It’s just you, Sasha, and a handful of regulars, sipping unreasonably cold beers and trying to act as if the early December chill hasn’t rattled you to your bones.

“This is a stupid idea,” you murmur against the lip of your bottle, trying not to seem as unnerved as you are, even after an hour of waiting and sipping. Sasha scoffs beside you, picking through your near-empty basket of peanut shells in search of a full pod.

“It’s not. He’ll be here.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you dragged me out. It only took a week for me to start missing this place,” you run a thoughtful hand along the varnished wooden bartop, “but I’m just still not sure about this whole seeing-Eren-on-purpose thing.”

Before Sasha can answer, the door swings open to reveal the man in question: Eren, accompanied by Armin and Connie, as always, and sporting his standard uniform. Black hoodie, slouchy khaki pants that are tightened around the ankles, and his beat-up Vans.

You nearly sigh into your drink at how delicious he looks, only stopping when the little voice in your head reminds you that the voicemail you’d left him exists. Friends– no, strangers now? The concept of labeling your bizarre, gray-areas-only relationship with Eren brings a chuckle up your throat, one that spills onto the bar.

You can feel him watching you, but to your simultaneous surprise and disappointment, he gives you space, sidling up to the bar a few seats down from where you and Sasha are occupying a couple of bar stools. When Connie throws up a cheerful hand in greeting to you, you tentatively wave back, only for Armin to grab Connie’s attention and turn him toward the bar.

“Ha!” Sasha says triumphantly, looking at you with her eyes glowing like you’re supposed to have reached a revelation of some sort. “See?”

“Did you plot this with Connie?” You narrow your eyes in suspicion.

“No, I’m just a genius, that’s all.”

“I feel like your theory is being proven wrong, not right. He’s not even sitting near us.”

“Because you have the upper hand!” Sasha grins.

“The upper hand?”

“Yeah, he’s giving you some space so you can make the first move, get what you want out of him.”

“And what do I want out of him?” You nearly growl in your frustration, feeling silly sitting exactly four barstools down from Eren with him running through your mind as if he isn’t close enough to just hop up and hug. It’s a genuine question more than a rhetorical one; you’re not even sure what you expect out of him anymore. Another fuck? A fancy date night? A lifetime worth of radio silence, as if Eren isn’t the person you’ve connected better with than nearly anyone else in your romantic history?

Sasha’s brows furrow. “Don’t you know?”

“No! That’s what I was trying to tell you!”

“Oh,” Sasha frowns, rubs her chin, “we should have figured that part out before we came, I guess.”

“Sasha!” You whisper-hiss, ever mindful of what you’re sure to be prying ears only a few feet away. “So you have no plan?”

Sasha stumbles, stutters, and eventually, flushes bright red with a shrug. “Okay, fine, I have no plan. But at least it’s something to break up your routine of laying in bed eating chips and moping around the library.”

“You’re such a bitch.” You roll your eyes, but you don’t mean it, not really. Regardless of how things stand, at the very least you can sneak little glances at Eren, take in how good he looks– no, you correct yourself firmly. You hopped off that train of your own accord, and you’re better for it.

With some verbal manhandling, you goad Sasha into a lull of small talk, classes, anything that comes to mind. A pair of eyes finds you, not the emerald that keeps you up at night, but a pair of hazel old-and-new eyes draw to you, and you can feel the scratch of an unwelcome gaze on your skin.

“Floch’s here,” you state the obvious, sipping your drink and giving no physical indication that you’ve noticed him, staring straight ahead as you mutter to Sasha.

“Christ, this was not a good idea,” Sasha groans, face-palming.

“Wow, I sure wish that someone had suggested this was a bad idea, wouldn’t that have been nice?”

“Shut up,” Sasha says, peeking warily over her shoulder, “I think that’s Hitch in the corner, too.”

You frown, confused at the hunched, anxious change in her posture. “Why are you being weird? Go say hey.”

“I’m not abandoning you!”

“Oh, shut it. Why are you really being weird?”

“I, uh…” Sasha twirls her beer around on the counter, blushing, “I haven’t texted her back in like, four or five days.”

“Sasha! You like her, I can tell. What’s gotten into you?”

“It was supposed to be a one-night thing,” Sasha moans, letting her face fall dramatically into her hands, “and then it was movie nights and coffee and just…way beyond casual hooking up. I like her, but…I don’t know! I panicked.”

You chew on her admission for a second, selfishly comparing Sasha’s situation to your own. Was that what you were doing with Eren? No, surely not, but was that what he was doing with you? You knew he had loved Breeze, that she had wrecked him, but maybe…just maybe some small part of you wants to hope that he’s moved on, that the coffee shop sighting was a fluke.

You shoo Sasha in Hitch’s direction, demanding she run over to apologize and make nice with Hitch, partially to save Sasha’s first shot at a real relationship in years and partially because you want to stew alone with your thoughts. Before you can get too deep into your black hole of what ifs, a familiar presence is sliding into Sasha’s seat, grinning lewdly.

You sigh; it was only a matter of time before he sought you out.

“What do you want, Forster?”

“Last name only? Ouch,” Floch places a hand over his heart, drumming the fingers of his other hand on the countertop. You recognize his demeanor immediately: pupils blown wide, buzzing to the brim with nervous energy. Floch’s always dabbled in party drugs, part of why you could only stand to be around him in small doses back when you were hooking up.

“Are you coked out right now?” Mindful of Levi’s hovering presence behind the bar, you keep your voice to a low hiss.

“So you can’t call me by my first name, but you can ask such personal questions? Jesus, you really are full of it, aren’t you?”

“Floch,” you nearly groan in frustration, “I thought I made it perfectly clear the last time I saw you that I’m not interested.”

“Why are you being so mean to me, hm?” Floch snakes a hand around your shoulders, jostling you until your face is mere inches from his. You’re more than aware of a pair of green eyes nearly boring a hole in your forehead, and you feel a pang of regret that you sent Sasha away so quickly, remembering far too late that Hitch’s table doesn’t offer a great view of where you’re seated at the bar.

“I’m not being mean,” you try to push at him, but he’s locked around you, “I’m just not interested.”

“Stop being such a bitch, Jesus Christ,” Floch finally lets you shove him away from you, but he’s far from done, “when did you get so stuck up, huh?”

“Floch. Keep your voice down, and walk away.” You try to warn him; Floch may be a pain in your ass, but you’d like to believe that he’s not a bad guy, deep down. You’re too late, however. 

Eren’s materialized between you and Floch before you can blink, before you can even get another word out. His sudden presence forces you out of your barstool, stepping around him to get a better read on what the hell he thinks he’s doing. Eren seems not to notice you trying to insert yourself between him and Floch, and the look on his face makes you step back momentarily.

He looks terrifying. Eren’s nostrils are flaring, eyes blown wide and jaw clenched tight. He’s taking full advantage of his height, glaring down at Floch with such menace that if looks could kill, Floch would already be laid out on the floor.

“Get the fuck out of here, dude. She said no.”

“What are you, her little guard dog?” Floch, infamous for never knowing what’s best for him, scoffs at Eren’s incredibly intimidating posture.

“Maybe I am,” Eren sneers, “I’m damn sure not going to sit there and let you speak to her like that.”

“Who’s this loser?” Connie’s to your right now, gesturing to Floch. You don’t miss the telltale clenching of Eren’s hands by his side, and it hits your dizzied mind what’s going on. Eren’s going to end up swinging if you don’t interfere, and Connie’s there for backup. 

“Floch, please.” You reach a feeble hand up to Floch’s chest, trying to gently push him in the other direction.

In the blink of an eye, Floch’s grabbing you by the wrist hard enough to solicit a yelp from your lips, throwing your arm away from him with a look of disgust.

“Oh, so now you want to touch me, bitch?”

No sooner has Floch’s hand released your arm than Connie’s got his arms wrapped around you, yanking you out of the crossfire. Amidst a series of gasps, Eren grabs Floch around the back of the neck, pins him face-first to the bar. 

“Jaeger!” Levi barks sharply, darting over to the scene of the commotion.

“Is that what gets you off, huh?” Eren’s nearly nose-to-nose with Floch, whose busted lip is twisted in a grimace and dribbling little bits of blood onto the varnished bartop. “Calling women bitches when they don’t want your little dick?”

“Let him go, Eren,” Armin tries to intervene, having already dashed over from his barstool. You want to back him up, but you’re frozen where you’re pinned to Connie’s chest, trembling in his arms. You know Eren’s a little rough-and-tumble, but this, seeing it in real life, is much more terrifying than you could have imagined.

“What the hell? Are you okay?” You can hear Sasha’s voice from beside you, close enough to touch but distant in comparison to where your vision is zeroed in on Eren’s grip on the back of Floch’s neck.

“Answer me!” Eren rears Floch back a few inches and slams him against the bar again. Floch curses under his breath, wriggles fruitlessly under Eren’s weight.

“Get the fuck off me, Jaeger!”

“You fucking wish,” Eren hisses, tightening his grip further, “now apologize to my girl before you make me do something I’ll regret.”

“Eren,” you find your voice again, shaking out of Connie’s grip. You fist your hands into Eren’s hoodie sleeves, tugging hard enough to get his attention. “He’s not worth it. Let him go.”

“Listen to her, Jaeger,” Levi’s already-deep voice is stained with warning.

When you pull at his sleeve a little harder, Eren turns to you, eyes still blown wide and teeth bared. It startles you, but you hold firm, setting your own jaw and shaking your head.

“Let. Him. Go. Now, Eren.” You’re not sure how you’ve managed to muster up the conviction in your voice, but you’re grateful for it, as it seems to shake Eren back into himself. Eren slowly releases Floch and in the same easy motion, he guides you behind him with one long, strong arm.

“You,” Levi points accusingly at Floch, “out.”

Floch’s jaw drops. “I didn’t even–”

“Out.” Levi’s tone leaves no room for argument, and Floch seems to understand at least that. He turns his glare back to you and Eren, scowling deeply.

“The next time I see you, Jaeger, it’s fucking over.”

“Get lost before you make me fucking embarrass you,” Eren says, voice dripping with venom. Floch shakes his head, lets his gaze land on you. A chilling smile breaks over his features.

“Next time, sweetheart.”

“Get the fuck out of here already, bro,” Connie snaps, pointing towards the exit. Floch takes his leave, sauntering towards the door with all the confidence of someone who hadn’t just been pinned against the countertop. A heavy, staticky silence falls over the bar.

“If I see you fighting in here again, it’s over.” Levi’s cold eyes fall on Eren, who nods curtly in understanding. Eren brushes his hands through his hair, rests a hand on the bun at the back of his head. Something strange is coursing through your body; something that tastes like anger, burns like heartbreak, falls bitter on your tongue like envy.

“Are you okay?” Sasha appears at your side again, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Floch’s such a psycho, I’m not even surprised he picked a fight.”

You nod numbly, eyes never leaving Eren. He finally looks back down at you, none of the heat having left his eyes.

“What the fuck was that?” It takes you a moment to realize that it’s you speaking, you throwing those words up the inches from your mouth to Eren’s. Eren’s face contorts into a frown.

“What do you mean? He was bothering you, wasn’t he?”

“So you try to fight him?” You seethe. Maybe it is anger, this bizarre, foreign emotion tingling at the tips of your fingers. No, that’s not quite it, you’re not angry you’re just…confused. Hurt that Eren’s frolicking around with Breeze, doing whatever he pleases, and yet, he’s jumping into bar fights to save you from the tangible evidence of your past.

“What do you expect me to do when someone talks to you like that?” Eren hisses back, eyes narrowed.

Sasha’s backed away from the two of you now; you’re aware of your friends staring at you, noses scrunched as they try to figure out exactly what’s happening now. You wish you had an answer to give them, but all you can muster is this heartache shooting out of your mouth in the form of daggers.

“I don’t need you,” you spit, “I don’t need your protection.”

“It didn’t exactly look like you had that handled,” Eren scoffs, rolling his eyes.

“Oh, and what are you? My knight in shining fucking armor? Don’t you have other damsels in distress waiting for you?” It’s too far, you know that as soon as the words leave your mouth, but the liquid courage Sasha had insisted upon is making your tongue sharper than you’d anticipated.

Eren rears back from where he’s hunched to meet you on your level, nostrils flaring again. Before you can utter another word, he’s got an arm thrown around your shoulders none-too-gently, practically dragging your stumbling feet towards the exit.

“Outside.”

WICKED THRONE — S. MANJIRO

note: this chapter contains character death, descriptions of decapitation + torture + violence + panic attack. this is my fave chapter out of all the published chapters in wicked throne. what happens here is the sole reason i have ever been inspired to make this a series in the first place. please enjoy and lmk your thoughts! thank you for the feedback, memes, asks last chapter! 8.4k wc. + listen to icarus by phildel while reading the last scene.

[ 𝐢 ] — f!reader x s. manjiro. royal!au. rebel!au. enemies-to-lovers. ooc!manjiro i write him the way i want to idc. romance. heavy angst. fluff. slow burn. character deaths. eventual smut. violence & slight gore. tragedy.

+ playlist. | masterlist.

CHAPTER XX: PENITENCE. 

Everything Manjiro Sano had learned since witnessing Shinichiro’s slaughtered body had turned to ash beneath his feet. Aenar’s teachings of the tenets and principles that a king should live by had been reduced to clouded phrases in his mind. Never before had he felt so sick as he did now, under the starless skies, with the moon’s judging eyes staring at the goblets strewn on the table beside him.

He had forgotten the taste of a fistful night’s sleep, let alone one free of betrayal, bloodshed, and tragedy.

Would he have perfected the ways to bear the gilded weight of the crown if he had known that it would cost the lives of his entire bloodline? Would he have devoured those books, their pages already yellowed to the edges, if he’d known that lusting for such power would leave him alone and without family?

How many deaths does it take to numb someone?

Manjiro wished he was paralyzed. He wanted not to feel a thing. However, feelings that were sheltered with painstaking effort were meant to bear fruit in the end. If he were to forget this pain, who would avenge and seek retribution for the death of his loved ones? 

He had to pick his feet up and remind them of his position on this land. A crown was heavy, yes, but it was his greatest weapon. He must utilize its strength to conquer the one thing he needed most: lay chaos upon his enemies. Chaos that would leave them with nothing but burned dreams and deadened hearts.

But there was one problem. Or perhaps someone. This someone was like ice to his fire, putting out his ability to burn everything in his path. And if it hadn’t been for the agony of realizing that he had to burn this someone along the way, the deed would’ve been done already. 

You: his fatal flaw, his incurable weakness. 

Keep reading

Pick up a book read a Wikipedia article watch a documentary anything please please please

Fragment of the Past 03

pairing: patient!jungkook x psychiatrist!reader genre: thriller & yandere au

summary: You are a well-known and respected psychiatrist and author. You start treating Jungkook, who suffers from PTSD after surviving an extremely traumatic incident. As you help him confront his traumatic past, he begins to act strangely, and you start uncovering something about him that will change everything.

chapter summary: You thought that you could finally escape from Jungkook but little did you know that he has something more to hold against you. You endure everything that he did to you but he was too much until you can no longer take him anymore.

chapter warnings: hazing, fraternity, blackmailing, manipulation, smut, non con, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), mc was traumatized, stalking, murder, major character death word count: 11.3K

parts: (1) | (2) | (3)

note: This fiction will contain multiple mental disorders and psychology facts. I conducted my own research to avoid spreading misinformation, but there may be aspects I've overlooked, so I am open for any corrections.

"Why are you here? Aren't you aware of the restraining order?" You threw your pen on the table and stood up from your seat, while a sinister smile curled his lips. He continued to take a step towards you and you immediately pushed the buttons that connected to the reception desk. He only laughed before he spoke.

“It’s 9 in the evening, Y/N. No one’s here except for the both of us.” His words send shivers down your spine.

He was right, Soyeon and your other colleagues went home 3 hours ago and you’re the only one left inside. 

You love to overwork but right now, you wish that you just continue working at home. 

He’s going to kill you before the night ends. You’re sure of it. 

You reach your phone with a shaking hand as you scroll to your contact list and click Detective Jung’s number. 

“Who are you going to call? Detective Jung?” His words were like whispers from the depths of darkness.

Detective Jung isn’t answering your calls. 

“You’d be arrested once you come near me.” You tried to threaten him, but it only sounded like a joke to him.

He took a seat in his usual position as he intertwined both of his hands.

“I commend you for your cleverness when you ask for a restraining order against me,” He crosses his legs and touches his lips. “Unfortunately for you, it won’t stop me from attending our sessions."

“It’s my first time attending an evening session, is it also your first time, Dr. Y/N?” He said with a malevolent grin stretched across his lips.

“I swear, before the sun rises tomorrow, you’d be arrested.” You spoke, clenching your jaw. 

“With how fast you climb to the top, I thought you were smart, Y/N. But I was wrong.” He pokes the inside of his cheek as he smirks. “You should know by now the reason why I’m not in jail for killing my mother.” 

You weren’t able to respond, like a cat caught your mouth. 

“I thought that you’ll do great in kicking me out of your life so I came prepared. I even thought that you’d approach a different detective for this one, and fortunately, you still decide to approach Detective Jung.” He pauses to let out his laughs. “Don’t you know that he was the reason why I’m still free? He’s my best friend, Y/N!” A sinister laugh erupted from his throat as your body started to shake. 

“I even came up with a plan with my lawyer if ever I was arrested but damn Y/N, I somehow wish that you give me a thrill. You made my life easier than I expected.”

As he said those words, your legs turned to jelly, and a tightness gripped your chest. 

You’ve underestimated him and his power and now, your life's on the line. 

“Go ahead and ruin my reputation. Upload those recordings online, I don’t care anymore. I can’t stomach you anymore, Jungkook.” You spoke in a serious tone, before fixing your things.

“Are you sure about that?” He asked, a smile evident in his voice.

“If you think you need to use those recordings to destroy me, feel free to do so. I won't participate in this any longer. I refuse to be a part of your games, Jungkook.” 

“Oh, Y/N.” He sighs before he continues. “If you think that this is all about you, you’re wrong.” He stood up and took out his phone from his pocket. You’re about to go but he thrust his phone in your chest. “Watch it because you’d love to see what kind of a person your best friend really is.” He smirks and you look at his phone. It was a video and you were scared to play it. The thumbnail is Taehyung standing in front of a man with their eyes blindfolded. Taehyung looks so young in here and you aren’t sure what’s happening. One way to find out. 

You wish you didn’t take his phone. You wish that you just proceed on walking out of your clinic, leaving him inside because when you play the video, you immediately hear a painful scream coming from a man. It wasn’t Taehyung who’s screaming, instead, a man was kneeling and bleeding while his eyes were blindfolded, and Taehyung was hitting him with a baseball bat.

Holy shit. 

Taehyung looks so young in the video. His hair was blonde, it’s his hair when he was 17 or 18, as you remember. You can’t believe what you saw. The man that he’s hitting is begging for him to stop but he doesn't. Instead, he hit him harder. 

Your hands were trembling, almost dropping the phone as you stopped the video from playing. 

What was that?

“Why do you look so scared, Y/N? It’s your best friend.” Jungkook slowly took the phone from your hand. 

Your body trembled uncontrollably, fear had taken hold of your very core. You looked at him, shaking your head.

“That’s not Taehyung.” You said.

“Oh Y/N, I wish you’re right, but it was him.” He chuckled. He takes a few steps back and places his right hand on his pocket as he scrolls to find something on his phone. 

When he finds it, he shows his phone once again. You were confused because it’s a group of male people and when he noticed your confusion, he zoomed the screen and you saw Taehyung in the photo.

“He’s part of underground society way back before he was an artist and that's when I knew him, Y/N. He was one of the people who performed the initiation rites for the new members, and that video you just saw? It’s what he does for the society he’s in.”

You can’t believe it, you refuse to believe it. Taehyung won’t do that. He won’t harm—

“Why do you look so shocked?” He asked with a grin on his face, mocking you. “You should know that, as his best friend.” 

“That’s not him.” You said, trying more to convince yourself. “Taehyung can’t do that. He won't take part in that kind of behavior.”

“Then you don’t really know your friend.” He placed his phone back in his pocket. “Stop being too naive, Y/N. Everyone has their own secrets to keep.” 

“Do you really think that I would believe you? Whatever shit you’re trying to pull, you won’t make me believe you.” You said in your sharp tone.

“But the people will.” He took a step towards you with a smirk on his lips. 

“You may refuse to believe it but the people will. They will believe so easily in whatever’s happening in that video.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat resonating with the intensity of the madness you feel. You never felt this kind of anger before. It’s too much that you wanted to kill him.

“What do you want?! What do you really want!” Your rage erupted like a blazing fire, smacking his chest aggressively. You keep on smacking and pushing him, while he doesn't even show any hint of pain. “Why are you doing this to me!” you shouted, tears welling up in your eyes and when you got tired, your hits became slower until you decided to stop. 

Jungkook held your wrist and looked at your eyes with intensity. You cannot resist him anymore because you’re too tired. 

“What do I want?” He repeated the question while staring at your eyes. “It’s simpler than you think.” His words were soft as a smile formed on his mouth. “I want you, Y/N.” 

You sob before you release your wrist from his grip. “I can’t have another session with you. You’re not cooperating.” You respond, letting out a weary sigh.

“That’s not what I mean.” He shook his head, slowly scanning your face down to your body. “I want you without your clothes, laying down while I am on top of you.”

You immediately shook your head. “No fucking way. I won’t let you do that.” 

“Then you agreed to let me upload your illegal voice recordings with your patients along with the video of your best friend, beating the hell out of an innocent man. I bet the people will love to see what their idol really is, right?”

You’re already bursting out of tears, shaking your head. “Please don’t involve him anymore.” 

“It’s your own fault, Y/N. The only thing that I want is a session with you until I recover, yet you pushed my limits. Now, you have to face the consequences of your actions.” He takes a step towards you, leaning forward to see your face full of tears and wipe them using the both of his finger thumb. You hit his arms and took a step backwards.

“You’re sick.” You turn around to gather your things and when you’re about to leave, he speaks.

“I’m telling you, you don’t want to test me because you wouldn’t like the ending.”

—

That same night, you didn't go home; instead, you went straight to Taehyung's place. He wasn't there because he had a shoot, but you waited. You couldn't wait any longer. You couldn't bring yourself to believe what you had seen unless it came directly from him. You've known Taehyung since birth, and you were certain that the videos and photos you had just seen couldn't be him because you knew he wouldn't do such things.

Yet you don’t understand why you felt betrayed even though you haven’t talked to him.

 When he arrived, that’s the first thing you ask him and it’s too obvious that he didn’t anticipate it. As the longer he can’t respond, the ache you feel worsens.

“Answer me, Kim Taehyung. Are you a member of an underground society?” You repeat the question, emphasizing every word.

“Where did—

“Just answer me!”

Taehyung was taken aback with your screams and a fear is evident in his face. He stood there frozen, unable to move or look away. He sighs before he speaks.

“Yes.”

Your body hunched, eyes closed as a tear streamed down your face. You lowered your body, squatted and your shoulders shook with each shuddering sobs.

“Y/N, w-why?” Taehyung immediately went to you but when his hand landed on your shoulder, you stood up, immediately pushing him away.

“You beat people, Taehyung! You beat them to death, you monster!” 

“Y/N, please let me explain—

“Explain what?! How the fuck you beat them until they die?!”

“It’s not my choice! They were threatening to kill me if I didn’t do what they wanted!”

You glared at him, choosing not to respond. 

“I thought it was a normal organization when I joined but I was tricked! I tried to leave but they didn’t let me and they even threatened to kill me if I reported them to the police! I was just 17 years old at that time, Y/N! I didn’t know what to do!” 

He was trembling as a tear formed in his eyes. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“Because I was scared that they would involve you. It’s a trap.”

“So you were still involved with them?” Your voice raised and he immediately shook his head.

“No! I managed to get away when we were caught doing the initiation rite, but I managed to run away without being caught. I wasn’t the one performing the initiation rite during that time so it was easy for me to run away.” He explained.

You only stare at him, imagining the 17-year-old Taehyung standing in front of you. During that time, you don't remember anything that may hint he was in danger. The only Taehyung you saw was the jolly and energetic Taehyung, not knowing that he was facing a dangerous situation.

Little did you know that 12 years from now, you’d also face the same situation like he does.

You took a step towards him and wrapped your arms around him, sobbing uncontrollably. You can’t imagine he faced that problem all by himself at that age. You were supposed to be with him as he faced his battles, but he was all alone. 

“Why didn’t you tell me even after you managed to run away?” You spoke, choked sobs wracked your body as he stroked your back gently. 

“It’s okay, it’s all in the past.”

You were in that position for a few moments until you calmed down. You break away from him and wipe your own tears. 

“How did you find out?” with that, you’re back from reality, the reason why you are here. 

“I saw a video of you beating a man. That’s how I found out.” His mouth hung open as his breath came in short.

“Where did you watch it?”

"An anonymous sender sent me the video. I couldn't bring myself to save the video because I can't bear to watch it again, so I deleted it," You reason out. You can’t tell him the truth because it will only complicate things more. “But I already reported it to the authorities and a security specialist and they guarantee that the person responsible for it will be caught.”

You felt bad for lying but you can’t tell him the truth. It wasn’t a good idea to confront him about this manner in the first place but you were not in your right mind when you decided to go here. You were caught off-guards. 

You just need to make sure that no one will see that video again. How? That’s also something you don’t know yet. 

—

Jungkook hasn’t bothered you lately, and it only worsens your anxiety. You know him and he won’t simply stop. You don’t know what’s his next move but soon, he’ll come after you. 

You always check what’s trending on social media, watching out for any news that can relate to you and Taehyung, but you’ve always found nothing. You even checked on Jungkook’s latest activities on their media pages and there’s nothing suspicious, yet you can still feel the lash that Jungkook tied on your neck.

You’re on your way for a book interview because your newest book entitled ‘The Paradox of Choice’ is about the launch. You’re nervous and you’re overthinking everything without a specific reason why. 

The feeling you felt right now is different from your previous book launching because right now, you don’t feel good. 

Maybe because you've been stressing lately with what’s happening right now or maybe because something is going to happen.

You wish it wasn’t the latter. 

“Three more minutes!” The crew announced.

This book launch is coming along with an interview at an evening talk show. You’ve experienced guesting in several talk shows yet, you felt so anxious that your trembling worsened as the minute passed by.

“Hey, are you okay?” Your assistant held your hand as you stood up. You looked at her and gave her a smile that didn’t reach your eyes.

“Yes, I am okay.” 

As you get closer towards the stage, your heartbeat increases. You pause for a while and take a deep breath, while closing your eyes. 

You can do this.

“Good evening, Dr. Y/N! How are you doing?” Park Jimin—the host asked you with a wide smile on his face.

“I’m great, how are you?” you try to connect the level of your energy to his. 

“I’m great as well! Are you ready? I know you won’t get too nervous since you have been a guest in several talk shows and interviews, right?” Oh, how you wish that’s your case.

“Of course! I look forward to this!”

You had a few talks with Jimin, explaining how the show will flow and you also reviewed the possible questions that he’s going to ask you. You were starting to get comfortable being on the stage. The rolling is about to start when your eyes land on a familiar figure wearing a black hoodie along with a headphone on his head. Your eyes widened in a complete terror, as your pulse raced with each thudding heartbeat.

Jeon Jungkook is here, staring at you with a demonic smile on his face.

“Rolling! We’ll begin in 3… 2… 1.” He was looking at you while he spoke on his headphones. Your surroundings turned into a blur as you felt that every movement was in slow motion. You notice that Park Jimin is already talking with so much energy and you try to wake yourself up.

“What inspires you to write this book? Was there a particular experience or realization that led to its creation?”

You grip your hand to stop its trembling before you answer. “People tend to choose their biggest life decisions when they are in an emotional state, and this book will teach everyone to always think twice or even thrice whenever they make big decisions for themselves. I, myself once experience choosing a decision that I wish I did not choose, and it lend me to regrets, which I don’t want people to experience that’s why I wrote ‘The Paradox of Choice.’” 

You try not to look at Jungkook after you respond but your own eyes are betraying you. There’s a sly smile on his lips as his eyes bore into you. 

You fucking hate it when his eyes are on you.

“How did you research and gather information for your book? Can you describe your process?” You froze on your seat when Jimin asked you that question. Your hands tremble even more, gripping it tightly to stop. You glance at Jungkook who’s standing meters away from you, playing his lips with his fingers. 

You don’t want to answer this because your method of gathering information for your book is what he obviously uses against you.

‘I record the sessions with my patients and analyze it to add an input to the book.’

It was the answer that you cannot say while he’s watching. 

Instead, “I did my own research with the help of my patient’s own experiences.”

Even in your peripheral view, you could still feel his eyes digging into your soul.

Once the shoot is done, you immediately storm out of the stage and lock yourself inside the comfort room for god knows how long. 

You stood before the sink, hands outstretched beneath the gentle stream of cool water pouring from the faucet as it ran down to your hands. 

You slowly rub both of your hands but the trembling of it isn’t stopping. You rub it even further to steady your hands, until you suddenly outburst silently. You can’t scream or cry, and the only thing you can do is endure the anger you feel right now. 

The soft hum of fluorescent lights filled the space with white glow, opposite of what you feel right now. Your hands are still trembling as you look at your face in the mirror. 

You look so horrible. 

When you’re stressed out because of your workloads, you can still appreciate the beauty you have, but right now, you really look so miserable. 

Jungkook is doing his excellent job in fucking you up. 

This is driving you insane. He’s driving you insane. You’re fed up with all of his shit and it’s too much already. You don’t even know what you did wrong for him to do this to you. The only thing you did is help him cope up with his trauma–or more like fake traumas. 

So you don’t know where you went wrong with him. 

Your assistant called your name on the other side of the door, asking if you’re fine which you’re not. You did your best to calm down before you decided to come out. 

It’s almost midnight when you’ve finished packing your things and ready to leave. Everyone’s out already and you don’t know who was left. You’re supposed to go home an hour ago but you choose to rest for a while before you go. 

The basement parking lot was nearly empty when you arrived; not even the guards were visible. But, as you approached your car, you noticed a tall, muscular man standing beside it, wearing a black hoodie, with both of his hands inside his pockets, clearly waiting for you.

He looked up when he noticed your presence, he stood straight, greeting you with a smirk on his face. 

“What took you so long?” Jungkook asked, a sly smile still on his face. 

“What do you want?” You pondered, glaring at him. 

He scoffed, “You always ask the same question over and over even though you already know the answer.” 

You didn’t respond, ignoring him, as you walked towards the driver’s seat but before you even opened the door, he already blocked you. 

“Don’t ignore me while I’m talking to you.” He threatened, eyes buried on you. 

“I have no more business with you.” You answered, passing by him as you opened the front door. 

“As far as I remember, we still have business going on.” He said, provoking you even more. 

You placed down your things on the passenger seat and before you could even hop on, he spoke.

“You’re brave enough to ignore me now. Why? Do you think I’m already done with you?” His voice dripped with a mocking undertone, a wry smirk played on his lips as he spoke.

“Or you’d be glad to see you and your best friend in the news by tomorrow morning?”

You clenched your jaw, glaring at him as you balled your fist. “I’ve already done what you want. I let you continue our remaining sessions but you go beyond that and pester me for almost 3 times a week! What more do you want?!” 

He tilted his head, licking his lips, trying his best to hide his teasing smile. He clicked his tongue before he spoke. “That's the second time you ask that question. Do you have other questions in mind that you’d like to ask?” 

“When will you ever stop?” He instantly laughed at your question. 

“You didn’t even hide the fact that you already want me out of your life.”

“I never try hiding it.”

“You’re becoming stronger and bolder now, Y/N. Well, I prefer this rather than seeing you crying your ass out begging me to stop. Unless, you’re crying as you scream my name.” He wore a suggestive smirk, provoking you even more.

“You’re sick!”

“You’ve been asking what I want and I’ve already told you, Y/N. I hate it when I keep repeating myself. You’re not stupid, you know that.” He arched a brow, a scornful stare bore into you. 

“And you’re delusional if you think I’d agree with that.”

“Then suit yourself and make sure that you won’t regret your decision.” He smirks, biting his lower lips.

“What are you gonna do?” You asked but when he didn’t answer and turned away, you screamed at him. 

“Jungkook, what the fuck are you going to do?!”

He scoffed before he looked back. “You’ll see.”

—

You want to die.

You just fucking want to die and bring Jungkook along with you.

Your emotions churned like a violent sea, a mix of anxiety, anger and fear that threatened to overturn you. Your heart pounded with rage, and your fingers trembled with fear as you held your phone, trying to avoid dropping it.

A video posted on twitter is playing from your phone, a video that you saw a few days ago.

You felt like throwing up when you saw that video again. Taehyung's face is blurred, but you can tell it's him. People might struggle to identify the person beating up an innocent man, but it won't take long for them to figure it out.

‘I wonder if you guys have any hint of who’s that man on the video? I bet you guys know because you love him so much. But I also wonder if you know your idol’s true color.’

The caption says, and the account is made to specifically attack and throw hate to people.

This could be Jungkook, but you weren't certain because he could have asked others to do it to avoid implicating himself. He has a reputation to maintain as well.

101k views, 5k reposts and 26k likes. 

‘Holy shit. Why do I feel like it’s Beom Seok from Horizon?’

‘This should be taken down.’

‘Eun Dae used to be a member of a fraternity before he become an idol lmaooo’

‘Taehyung was also rumored to be part of a frat before but it hasn't been proven yet.’

Fucking hell. Taehyung must know this shit already and you don’t know what to do. It should be taken down but the video was posted 2 hrs ago and you just saw it right now. Even though it was taken down, people already saved it from their devices.

You were still in the middle of breaking down when your phone rang, and when you saw the caller ID, your blood erupted.

It was Jeon Jungkook. You scream on your phone before you decline the call. You were about to turn your phone off when he sent a message that angered you even more.

‘Decline the call one more time, you will see the video again and I will make sure that the face of Taehyung is visible for everyone to know that it’s him.’

Your hands grew cold and started to shake when your phone rang once again. You had been clenching your teeth before deciding to answer the call.

“How are you, Doc?” He greets you in his sweet voice that only annoys you even more. “Do you think that I wouldn’t do it?” He added, releasing a sarcastic laugh. 

“Take it down, Jungkook.” Your words dripped with menace. 

“You’re the one who made me do it. It’s your fault, Y/N.”

“You monster! Why do you have to involve him?! He didn’t even do anything!” You screamed, pulling your hair out of anger.

“I know but you care for him so much. It’s a natural thing to involve him.”

Your tears run through your cheek as you collapse from the ground. You’re starting to lose your sanity. 

“What do you want?” You spoke in a low voice.

“You want to know? Come here at my place and I will let you know, Y/N.”

—

You’ve expected that Jungkook is living in a high end luxurious apartment building but you didn’t expect that it would be in the highest floor, a penthouse. 

Jungkook noted that he left the door unlocked so you can enter without him opening it for you. You were scared of what could happen inside his penthouse given the fact that he’s a dangerous person by murdering his own mother but you’re desperate to stop him. 

Your heart was pounding when you opened his double-door and as expected, it was unlocked.

You are greeted by a huge area of floor-to-ceiling windows that frame breathtaking panoramic views of the whole city lights. The living room is adorned with designer furniture, a monochromatic symphony of blacks, grays, and whites, and a wall adorned with abstract art that speaks Jungkook's taste.

The place is beautiful, opposite to the person living in here. 

“You came.” You immediately turned around when you heard his demonic voice behind. He’s in the corner of the stairs from the second floor as he slowly steps down, hands in his pocket with a smirk on his lips. 

“Take that video down.” You glared, speaking with your teeth.

“Or else, what? Are you going to report me again? ” He stopped in the middle of the stairs, placing his hands on the railings. He scoffs when you don't respond. “You should know by now that it won’t work, Y/N.” He added, continuing to step down. 

“I’m already here, so tell me what the fuck do you want?” You raised your voice, itching to know what he really wants. 

“Why are you in a hurry, Doc?” He was about to touch your face when you blocked his hands, throwing it away.

“Take that video down, Jungkook.” You spoke, trying to contain yourself. 

He smirks before he turns away and takes a step towards his kitchen island, pouring wine on his wine glass. 

"I've already done that for being such a good and obedient girl." He sips on his wine, not breaking eye contact with you. “But I can upload it again if you choose to test my patience.” He adds. You bite the inside of your lower lips to prevent yourself from attacking him. 

“Why did you even ask me to be here?” 

“Didn’t I tell you before? I want you, Y/N.” 

He poured wine in another glass and walked towards you, handling the wine for you, but you just glanced at it and returned your gaze to him.  

“Let’s not waste time and tell me what the fuck you want so I can leave now.” You said in gritted teeth.

“I already told you, so stop being stubborn and drink this wine before I change my mind and upload the video with your best friend's face clearly visible along with the illegal recordings you had with your patient.” In an instant, he shifted from a playful smirk to a sudden seriousness, dropping the playful facade. 

You take the wine in his hands and he asks you to drink but you immediately shake your head. “I’m not going to let you poison me.”

“If I’m going to do that, I already did when I first walked into your office. It’s easier to kill you than to kill my mother, if that’s what you want to hear.” His words sent shivers down your spine, forcing yourself to sip in the glass as the taste of rich, velvety smoothness of the wine caressed your tongue. He smirks when he is satisfied with your sip. 

“See, you’re still alive.” 

He turned around taking a step forward and telling you to follow him, but when you didn’t, he looked back and his unyielding gaze bore into you. “Are you coming or do you want me to drag you from where you stand right now?”

You swallow hard, trying not to prevent yourself from showing any signs of fear, but it was harder than you thought because you’re in his territory. 

“Are you going to kill me?” Your words come out as a whisper but he was able to hear it and when he does, he grins. 

“Why, are you scared?” He took a sip from his wine, eyes fixed on you. “To answer your question, no, I’m not going to kill you.”

“Then where are you taking me?” 

“We’ll have dinner, now start to move before I drag you to the dining table.”

You indeed had dinner with him and several dishes were served on the long table. By just looking at what is served, you immediately remember that you hadn’t eaten anything yet since morning and everything you see is appetizing. The whole dining room was magnificent. The space was bathed in a war, golden glow of crystal chandelier that hung from a high, ornate ceiling. If you were in a different situation, you’d love to stay here.

Obviously, your life’s on the line and you can’t just eat and relax right now. 

“Don’t you like the food? Why aren’t you eating much?” He asked before he took another bite of his steak.

You’ve tasted what’s in front of you and it was so insanely good, but you can’t eat much by just thinking of what situation you have right now. 

"I'm not hungry," you reasoned out, then sipped your glass of water. You glanced around to see if there was anyone else in the vicinity, but you saw nothing, not even maids or cooks. It was the perfect opportunity for him to kill you, with no one else around except the two of you.

“I doubt. I know that you haven’t eaten anything. Go and enjoy your meal. It won’t harm you.” You only stare at your plate, trying to wash away the negative thoughts you have. You took another bite of your steak and you can’t help but to crave more on how it tastes so good. 

“I could tell that you like the steak, but you’re having a hard time enjoying it. I wonder what’s running through your mind.” He placed both of his elbows on the table and intertwined his fingers. 

“Will you let me go after this meal?” Your question made him chuckled, loud and mocking. 

“Here you go again, so desperate to leave me.” He commented, wiping the corner of his lips with a table napkin. 

“If you just tell me what you’re planning to do, then I wouldn’t keep asking you.” You answered, taking a sip of your water. 

“This is the plan you’re asking about. Didn’t I tell you before that I wanted to take you out for dinner to show my gratitude for being my therapist? That’s what I’m doing right now.” He grabs his wine glass and leans back before he whirl the glass, taking a sip from it.

“That’s it? That’s what you want? To take me out for dinner?” You asked like you can’t believe what he just said. 

“Why, what do you expect?” He placed his elbow on the arm rest and played with his lips; the mannerisms he does when he’s enjoying something. 

“You must be kidding me right now. I know you want something more. I know you, Jungkook. I know you.”

“If you claim to know me so much, then you should know that I am serious with what I want from you.” His eyebrow furrowed, gazing at you with intensity. “That’s the problem with people like you. You think too much and it leads you to danger.” He scoffs.

He stood up from his seat and took a step towards you, while you didn’t move an inch from your position. 

“From the moment I walked into your office, I know from myself that I want you. With your long hair falling back beautifully to the tight black dress you wore, I immediately agreed to take the sessions with you.” He stood beside you from your seat, resting his hands on the backrest of your chair while you were there, completely frozen. 

“Hoseok and my lawyer Namjoon told me that I should act like the incident causes me trauma to prevent them from suspecting me to be the culprit. I did not agree because it’s bullshit but they keep on convincing me.” He chuckled as he remembered something. “I planned on attending a single session and I won’t show up again but when I saw you sitting on your office chair with a bright smile on your pretty face, I thought that attending sessions with you won’t be that bad after all.”

He caresses your hair and you try not to flinch, clenching your jaw. 

“I do enjoy the sessions we had because you’re so entertaining to watch. You talked as if you know everything but the truth is, you don’t. I just let you think that way because you’re so passionate about what you do. I don’t want to ruin your ego, Doc.” 

He kept on caressing your hair and when you couldn't take it anymore, you stood up, facing him with anger on your face. 

“I’m done with my meal. I’m going home.” You gazed at him with a piercing stare, picking up your things. 

“You think I will let you leave just like that?” An ominous aura surrounded him when `he spoke. You’re trying to strengthen yourself as you take a step towards the door, but before you even made it, he spoke again. “Get back here, Y/N.” He threatened. 

“Stop playing with me, Jungkook.” 

“Try to take another step and I will make sure that before this night ends, your career is over as well as your best friend’s. You know that I can do it, Y/N. You wouldn’t like to test me again.” A cold, sinister flowed from his voice.

You didn’t dare take another step, afraid of provoking him even more. You hate that he can control you with just the use of his words. You still have the lash on your neck, making him take control over you. 

“That’s right, be the good girl that you are, Y/N.” He said, with a smirk on his lips. He placed his hands inside his pocket as he slowly walked towards you. “I don’t understand why you keep giving me that kind of behavior but you can’t stand by it.” He towered over you and he tried to touch your cheek but before he even did it, you avoided his touch and took a step backward.

He smirks, staring at you before he speaks again. “Even if you try to avoid me, I will still find my way to you, Y/N. If I were you, I wouldn't waste my time doing that.” He walks back to the long table and grabs his wine glass and takes a sip on it without leaving his eyes on you. 

You didn’t move nor say anything, observing his movements. You’re at his territory and you couldn’t risk provoking him because he can do anything to you without the people knowing what’s happening inside his penthouse.

He grabbed the new bottle of wine and opened it, filling up your wine glass, walking towards you, and handling you the glass. You only stare at it and Jungkook gestures to you to take it. 

“Hurry up and get it, Y/N. My arms are starting to numb.” He said and you are left without a choice, so you take the wine from his hands. “Go drink it.”

You look at the wine glass and there are a few bubbles underneath it and you swallow hard before you take a sip from it. 

“Finish it up, Y/N. Don’t make me tell you everything you have to do.”

You wanted to cry but you didn’t let your guards down. You’re starting to regret going here. 

You chug the wine while your hands are trembling and he smiles after you finish it. 

“That’s right, you’re such a good girl.” He took the glass from you and placed it back on the table. 

After a few moments, your heartbeat increases rapidly and your whole body starts to tremble. Jungkook was just looking at you as he enjoyed his wine and you suddenly felt so weak, your head started to ache.

There is something wrong with the wine.

You take a deep breath, fighting the weakness within you. You wouldn’t want to show that you’re getting weak in front of him. You walk back to your seat and grab your things before looking at him.

“I really have to go. I have a lot of things to do.” You spoke in your low voice, being careful of your actions.

Jungkook pouted in a sarcastic way. “There’s no way I’m letting you go.” he answered before he smirked. Your headache worsened but you didn’t show any signs of your weakness.

He walked towards you and you admit that you’re getting scared of what he might do. You step back but there is no more space because the table is already bumping your back. He raised his hand to touch your face once again but you blocked his touch.

And in a snap of a finger, he aggressively grabbed your face using only a single hand and his eyes suddenly filled with darkness. “Stop resisting me, Y/N. You can’t win over me.” He spoke in a low but sinister tone. 

Your limbs trembled uncontrollably, unable to withstand the weight of your fear. After a few seconds of staring at your soul with so much intensity, he already released his firm hold on your face but he didn’t move away. Instead, he slowly traces your face with his fingers.

Your weakness worsens and you can’t move nor think anymore. The only thing you can do is let him touch you.

“I love it so much when the cause of your weakness is me.” 

Your eyes widen as you gasp silently when his lips crushes on you. It was hard and you tried to move away but he gripped your arm, unabling you to move. You were trying to push him but because of your weakness, it didn’t even move an inch. 

“Open your mouth, baby girl.” He commands as he speaks in between his kisses. 

“Jungkook s-stop—

“I told you not to fight me.”

His lips went down on your neck sucking your skin and you used all your strength to push him away but he was too strong. He locked your hand on the table as he shifted his kiss on your lips and neck. Your body is shaking and tears are now flowing from your cheek and when he notices it, he stops, staring at you without removing his grip on your hand from the table.

“If you keep being difficult, I fucking swear that you wouldn’t make it out alive and I will make sure that your bestfriend will fall on the ground so hard that he can never recover.” He whispers in your ear, making you stand frozen with a pounding heart. 

You were too weak to fight and you’re sure that it’s not only because he’s dangerous but there is something in the wine you just drank. 

He stares at your face, like memorizing every feature of it. He lifts his hand, slowly wiping your tears away. He traces your face before he moves closer to peck your forehead. His lips were soft on your skin, but it only sent shivers down your spine.

“You don’t have to be scared because I will bring heaven to you.” He whispers before he sucks your ear lobe. 

He held your waist while kissing you, pushing his tongue inside. His lips were so soft and you could taste the bittersweet of the wine he just drank a few moments ago. His hands were traveling around your body while his lips were still on yours. You wanted to push him and run away but you know that you couldn’t do that because before you even reach his gigantic door, you’re probably dead. 

“Do you know how much I crave for you, huh?” He tried to speak in his desperate kisses as his breath became heavier. “From the first time I step in your office, you never leave my head. You fucking drive me insane.”

He lifted you up to the table as his kisses became aggressive and you were just there, being helpless. 

He cupped the back of your neck as he sucked it leaving a bruise before his hands traveled down to your thighs and caressed them. His hands were burning through your skin and you deny that your body starts to burn as well. He lifts you up and your thighs are in between his body carrying you to an unfamiliar room and the next thing you know, you’re already laying down on a bed. 

Your back slowly touched the soft mattress as he started to crawl on the top of you. Your body is trembling and your heart is beating so fast as he brushes your face with the back of his fingers. 

“This is what I really want, Y/N. Me on the top of you.” The room is dark but you could still see the glimpse of his face with how the moon illuminated the darkness of the room. He gently strokes your face down to your neck, until it reaches your chest. He leans forward and places his ears on your chest, listening to your pounding heartbeat. “Just by listening to your heartbeat is enough for me to get turned on.” He whispers in your ears before he brushes his lips to your neck, immediately feelings his hot and wet breaths. 

Your breath rose when you felt his fingers crawling underneath your shirt, fingers wandering at your bare skin. You suddenly flinch when his fingers rub your breast, making him smirk. “You like it when I touch you like this?” He asked in his low and seductive voice, and when you didn’t respond, his fingers circles your nipples slowly causing you to moan. 

You’re wearing a dress and he slowly lifts the end of it, completely taking your dress off and when he did, he gave a peck on your breast before removing your bra. A sudden sense of unwanted pleasure filled your body as he sucked your left breast while massaging the other one, leaving a tingle on your stomach. It didn’t take long before his lips connected on yours, slipping his tongue, letting out another moan. He moves his mouth down to your neck once again, sucking it while his other hand is trailing down your back.

His fingers travel down on the waistband of your underwear, leaving soft kisses. “I’ve always wondered how your bare body looks, and it’s exactly how I imagine. So sexy and gorgeous.” He played with the waistband of your underwear before he slowly pulled it down, leaving you gasping. 

You’re at the verge of crying when he spreads your legs apart, exposing your bare pussy, leaning down and leaving a kiss on your pelvic bone. You tried to push your body deeper in the mattress to avoid his kisses, but he only grips your hips firmly to prevent yourself from moving. “Stop fighting, Y/N.” He said with a stone voice. 

He leaves a last peck on your pelvic bone, moving down on your clit before he kisses it, leaving you panting. You resist yourself from whimpering but when he slides a tongue on your clit, you groan. You were fighting the pleasure that you felt, but the more he keeps on licking your folds, the more your body burns.

"Fuck baby, you taste just like how I imagined it. So sweet for me."

You were disgusted at yourself for feeling something so good, and disgusted at him for doing this to you. 

“You act like you don’t like what you feel, but with how wet you are, it only proves how you love this so much.” He said—almost sounds like a whimper. Your eyes widened when you felt his fingers circling your clit before he slowly inserted it inside. You moan so loud when he moves his fingers as he licks your clit and you cry with the burning sensation radiating to you. 

You weren’t a virgin and you’ve hooked up several times, yet you can’t admit it to yourself that he was doing good eating you out. 

“No matter how you say that you hate me, your body will never lie.” He whispers, as he drag his finger inside and out in a quicker motion. 

No matter how you stop yourself from moaning, that sound escapes your mouth. 

Pain leaves you when he pulls his fingers and when you look at him, he removes his shirt revealing his chiseled and sculpted body. He leans forward to slide his fingers inside your mouth, letting you taste yourself before he slides his tongue. A moan escaped you when he rubbed his fingers on your clit, feeling your wetness, before he inserted his finger once again. 

You’re trying your best not to let out another moan but your body is betraying you because you were moaning in between his lips that you could feel his smirk. 

“Don’t be hard on yourself and let yourself enjoy it, baby girl.”

After a few moments of him fucking your pussy with his fingers, your whimper as you reached your orgasm. You shred a tear when you realize how your own body betrays you. 

He withdraws his fingers as he continues to suck your neck while his hands are circling to your waist down to your hips and grinding his body on you. He then pulls himself to take off the pants that he’s wearing as your body starts to tremble.

You stare at his movements as he pulls down his pants and you gasp when he pulls it down, completely exposing dick. 

His huge, holy shit.

He strokes it and it arouses you even more. You hate yourself right now more than you hate him because you can’t believe that you’re craving it. 

“Please Jungkook, don’t.” Your voice quivered with desperate pleading.

“Stop acting that you’re not enjoying it because your body says otherwise.” He scoffs before he kneels in between your body and pumps his dick, gripping it tightly.

“Spread your legs for me, baby girl.” He commands as he parts your legs. Your eyes widen when you feel that he’s rubbing his dick on your folds as your wetness overflows and a moan is released on your lips. 

“That’s right, moan for me.” He said, almost sound like a whimper teasing you even more and it didn’t take long when he slid his dick inside you making your nails buried on his back. 

“Fuck Y/N, you’re so tight!” He moaned as he went deeper. He placed his hand on your back and a pain filled you when he dug deeper. He was sucking your neck as he kept thrusting in and out. You were pulling his hair, as he groaned on every thrust he made. He stops from time to time to suck your nipples and kiss your lips, making you moan continuously. 

"You're taking me so well, fuck. That's right, take me so well."

You’re starting to cry with the unwanted pleasure you feel but Jungkook only kisses your tears away. And with a hard thrust, you’re about to come. Your breath comes out heavily as you keep on whimpering with every thrust he does. Jungkook curses, his thrust becomes harder and you start to tremble.

“Yes baby, cum all over me and show me how much you enjoyed this.” His words almost sound like a whimper and it only motivates you to reach your second orgasm. 

And when you did, you cried louder as he thrust harder and deeper for the last time. 

—

You were lying on his bed without your clothes, while he was beside you, sleeping peacefully as if he hadn't disrespected you an hour ago. His bed was the softest and most comfortable you had ever experienced, its softness enveloping your body in a gentle embrace. However, all you could feel was disgust and anger at what he had done to you.

 You should be running right now but your body froze and you can’t move them even an inch. It happened three times in a row, and you've been begging him to stop, but he doesn't listen, as if he were possessed by a devil. He's already a monster himself, but you didn't anticipate him forcing you to comply. Most especially, you loathe yourself because your body responds to his desires, leading him to believe that you genuinely enjoy what he's doing, but in reality, you're horrified.

The room is dark, and the moon casts its enchanting glow upon it. You're gazing at the full glass window, where the distant city lights flicker in the distance. An emotional numbness envelopes you, leaving you unstable and broken.

You slowly turn towards the person beside you, and as expected, he's asleep. You can't believe how different he appears when he's sleeping, nothing like the person you know. Instead, he resembles a man who wouldn't harm a soul when his eyes are closed. However, the burning anger you feel hasn't subsided. You can never forget what he has done to you. 

The anger surged within you and you wanted to lash out, to make him feel the same pain he has caused you. You clenched your fist and the thought of killing him gnawed at the edges of your sanity. 

You looked around to find something to protect yourself from him. Slowly, you raised yourself from lying down, careful not to make any movements that might wake him up. With trembling hands, you reach your dress from the floor and put it on before scanning the room.

You've been here for quite some time, but this is the first occasion you've had to observe his entire room. As expected, his room is quite spacious, yet you can't discern the color of the walls as darkness covers the entire space. Your eyes catch a glimpse of a chest of drawers in the corner of the room, and above it, there are photographs adorning the wall. As you take a step closer, your heart rate quickens upon seeing the photos that are affixed to the wall.

The room might be dark but it’s evident that the polaroid photos on the wall are you. There are a lot of photos of you and they are a mix of a photo from your social media accounts and a photo that he took without you noticing it. 

He’s been stalking you for a quite long time already. 

A memory comes back when you’ve felt that someone is looking at you or when you’ve felt like he’s around and you brush it all away believing that you were wrong but it all makes sense because he’s been stalking you and you don’t have any idea of it. 

Your trembling hands worsened as your jaw clenched, turning around with your eyes glared at his sleeping figure.

Your anger consumes you, and with every fiber of your being, a raw, primal fury pulses, urging you to harm him. As your rage intensifies, a dark abyss opens in your mind, and your thoughts race. You take a step toward the bed where he's lying down as your heart thunders in your chest.

‘You fucking monster.’

Even if there isn’t enough light, you still manage to look around to find something. You returned to the chest drawer opening it and you gasped as you saw more photos inside. You didn’t try to look at them one by one focusing on finding something.

‘I will fucking kill you’

From the drawer, you walked around and opened every cabinet inside his room to find something you’re looking for and when you did, your body suddenly froze. 

A gun.

With your heavy breaths and trembling hand, you took it out from the drawer and took a moment to stare at it. 

But before you’ve processed everything, you heard a voice speak.

“My little Y/N, what do you think you’re doing?” 

You immediately stood up, turned around, and saw Jungkook standing 7 feet away from you. The room was so dark that you couldn't see his face, but you could make out his silhouette. He was wearing pants but nothing on top.

You pointed the gun at him but he only laughed it out. Your entire body froze as you pointed the gun firmly on him and your heartbeat echoed loudly on your ears. Your breath came short, as if your lungs were struggling to keep up with your racing thoughts.

He walked slowly toward the bedside table and switched on the lamp, causing the room to fill with a warm glow. It wasn't very bright, but it was enough for both of you to see each other.

He grins as he sees that you stepped back, holding the gun firmer when he took a step towards you. 

You’re shaking so bad but you can’t hold your guards down because anything can happen in just a matter of seconds. 

“What, you’re gonna shoot me after I satisfy you?” He said with a grin on his lips. 

“I’m going to kill you.” Your voice is low but every word you say is sharp enough to show that you’re serious but he only scoffed at your words.

“Really, you’re going to do that?” His voice was seductive, provoking you even more. 

You try to find any signs of fear on his face but you find nothing. Instead, it only worsens your emotions. You weren’t sure if the gun that you’re holding is loaded and you only pray that it does. 

It’s your first time holding a gun and you don't have any idea of how to use it but your life is in danger and you have to act accordingly. 

You cocked the gun and pointed it out at him once again. 

“Do you even know how to use that?” He pouted as if he cares but it was full of mockery and sarcasm. 

“Don’t come near me.” You whispered as you held the gun firmly.

“Come on Y/N, don’t embarrass yourself.” He took a step back and sat at the edge of the bed, while his eyes were on you. “We both know that you aren't capable of doing that. Didn’t I satisfy you enough?” 

“Shut up.”

“As far as I remember, you love it so much when I eat you out. Did I think that wrong?” He rested his hand on the mattress behind him. “I love every reaction that you make when you feel so good. I love it when you dig your nails on my skin because you can’t contain the stimulation. And by how you feel so weak with my touch and kiss–

“Shut the fuck up!”

Your heart raced, your body trembled and a cold sweat broke out on your forehead. your thoughts worsen into chaos and an overwhelming dread washed over you. You can’t take the words he said. You just wanted him to shut up.

He stares at you with so much intensity, like he can see through your soul. “You should’ve checked if the gun was loaded, babe.” He commented shifting his gaze to the gun you’re holding. 

You shook your head as you pressed your lips firmly. “You monster. I’m going to fucking kill you.”

“Then kill me,” He spoke in his low voice. “Shoot me, Y/N.” He slowly stands up and walks towards you, making you step backwards. You panicked even more but you tried your best to stay still and point the gun towards him. 

“Show me how brave you are, Dr. Y/N.” Your back bumps into the cabinet behind you when there is no more space for you to step back as you were shaking so badly and you can no longer hold your tears. He pressed his chest on the muzzle of the gun while looking at you with so much intensity. 

In the blink of an eye, he firmly grabs your arm, attempting to wrest the gun from your grip, but you hold it even more tightly. You push him using your elbow, but he chokes you, and you tremble in pain. He's strong, but your determination is unwavering, and you won't lose to him this time.

You step forcefully onto his right foot, and when he shows his weakness, you swiftly break free from his grasp. However, he manages to trip you, causing you to fall and drop the gun.

You immediately crawl to get the gun but he pulled your leg away from it. 

“You can never escape me, Y/N!” He spoke as his hands circled around your neck. 

Your eyes were starting to blur, preventing you from seeing anything for a few moments. A sense of helplessness washed over you until your eyes caught the gun a few inches away from you. He was focused on choking you to death while you’re focused on reaching the gun. Desperation clouded your thoughts, urging you to stay stronger and when you finally reached the gun, you immediately pulled the trigger in his direction. 

You stood up when he released you, as a searing pain tore through his body upon being struck by the bullet, leaving him gasping for breath. You held the gun firmly while he endured the pain in his rib that had been hit by a bullet.

You cocked the gun one more time and pointed at him. 

You panted heavily as a panic gripped you, the inability to catch your breath adding to the rising sense of fear. He clenched his jaw, forcing himself not to let a sound escape his lips. 

He pressed his hand on his rib, looking at you with the same eyes that you despise so much. Despite being shot, he can still manage to look at you with mockery. 

"Do you believe that after what you've done, you have already… won?" He smirks as he slowly falls on the ground, enduring his physical pain. “I was in your position months ago. Holding a… gun as I shoot my mother. How ironic that the person… who tried to heal me was also the person… who would try to kill me.” He felt an agonizing, relentless throbbing at the site of the gunshot trying to ease the pain. He tried to stand up before he continued. “You’ve said a lot of times that my actions are… bad but look at you right now… Doing the same… thing.” 

“We’re not the same!” You shouted, holding the gun with your two hands. “You ruin my life, you monster!” You felt a seething rage, a burning intensity that threatened to overtake you. 

He only smirks at your response. “Really? Because last time I checked… I shoot my mother for being the monster that she is.” 

“Don’t you dare compare yourself to me!” Your fingers were trembling, itching to pull the trigger. 

“You might keep on denying it but we both know the truth.” Even in his situation, he can still play with a sinister smile on his lips. 

“You’re fucking wrong—

“Come on, Y/N! Look at you!” His eyes blazed with fiery, smirking at you as he cut you off. “You’re just like me! We’re really meant to be!” You are consumed by fury, your thoughts a turbulent storm of anger as his sinister laugh triggers you even more. Your heart pounded in your chest, tears streaming down your cheek and without you noticing it, you’re shooting him continuously.

“Fuck you! Motherfucker!” 

You continue to curse and pull the trigger even though he's already lying on the ground. Your anger blinds you to the point where you can no longer process your actions.

“I’m not like you! I’m fucking not like you!” You screamed along with every shot you made. Your heart pounded on your chest, as your words dripped with outrage. The only time you stop is when the gun is out of bullets. 

The room was surrounded by blood as you observed his lifeless body lying on the ground. You couldn't recall how many times you had shot him, but judging by the considerable amount of blood scattered about, it was evident that you had shot him numerous times.

Your vision swam before you, blurring the edges of reality as the world around you seemed to spin. You glance at the gun you’re holding and you immediately drop it off. Your whole body trembled uncontrollably, making you collapse on the floor. 

Blood. There’s a lot of blood.

The surroundings fell into an eerie silence and a chill ran down your spine. You're suddenly suffocated by fear as you crawl backward.

He’s dead. I killed him.

The only thing that you hear is the ticking sound of the clock and nothing else. You slowly look around but the only thing you see is blood. 

“But look at you right now, doing the same thing.”

“You’re just like me! We’re really meant to be!”

You covered your ears as you heard him. He was dead but you can still hear his sinister voice. 

“You can never escape me, Y/N!”

“STOP!”

—

The horizon blazed with a rich, golden hue as the sun's first rays pierced the darkness. Birds whistled as the day began. The air, now filled with the promise of warmth and life and with each passing moment, the sky emerged from its darkness.

Yet the horror you’ve made is still there. 

You’re under the glass window, watching the world to start its day. The room is still covered in blood–your body is still covered in blood. The sun has risen yet you wanted to stay in the dark. You don’t know what to do anymore. 

You suddenly heard the ringtone of your phone, making you feel more vulnerable. You covered your ears to prevent yourself from hearing it yet the sound seems to hunt you. 

After the call dies, you thought that it won’t ring again but before you can even have a peace of mind, it rang once again. 

Your legs tremble when you stand up. You do your best not to look at the corpse laying on the ground as you walk out of the room. 

His living room is exactly how it looked the last time you saw it. You look around to see any living thing but you sense nothing. Your phone is still ringing when you spot it on the top of the dining table where you ate last night. 

Where he forced you to drink a wine that made you weak. 

Tears welled up in your eyes when you saw the caller’s ID. 

It was your best friend.

It was Taehyung. 

“Thank god you answered! Where the hell are you?! I’ve been calling you since last night but you aren’t answering! You’re gonna kill me for worrying to you!”

Hearing his voice broke you down. Your tears flowed continuously as an uncontrollable emotion poured out on you. 

“Y/N, what happened? Why are you crying?” A deep concern is evident in his voice. 

You were shaking, crying with broken sobs as you covered your mouth in an attempt to calm down.

“Y/N! Speak up! What’s wrong?!”

“Tae… Please help me.” You attempt to speak. 

“Where are you? I’m going there.”

“Taehyung.”

“Y/N, what happened?”

“I made a grave sin.” 

“What?”

Your wailing sobs echoed through the whole area as you fell on your knees. He keeps asking what happened but you’re having a hard time admitting it. 

“Y/N, how am I going to help you if you can’t tell me?”

After a few moments, you started to calm down. Your sobs gradually subsided, a quiet hiccup escaped you as you closed your eyes briefly.

“I killed a man.” The words escape your lips and a new set of tears forms on your eyes. 

You never thought that you would resort to killing him. Out of all the things that happened, you wanted to end everything without harming anyone. You’re a well-known psychiatrist who has an advocacy that despite of who you are and what you’ve become, your mental health matters. 

You know yourself well. You know your strengths and weaknesses, and the cause of your happiness and sadness. But that’s what you thought. 

You can’t control your emotions. 

No matter how you try, you will always have a hard time controlling it.

There are a lot of reasons why people act without thinking when they are emotional. According to a study, physiologically, emotions can activate the body's fight-or-flight response. When emotions trigger this response, stress hormones like adrenaline flood the system, preparing the body to respond to perceived threats. This physiological reaction can reduce the ability to think clearly and may lead to impulsive actions.

“Where are you?” After a long pause, Taehyung finally spoke. 

“At Jeon Jungkook’s place. One of my patients.” You respond in a low voice. 

“Message me the exact address and I’ll be right there.”

You weren’t in your right mind when you pulled the trigger. You didn’t like what happened. 

Therefore, you weren’t just like him. 

It was his fault, after all.

-end-

a/n: finally, it's complete! Thank you so much for joining me in writing this JK fic. It's my first time delving into the thriller genre, and I've truly enjoyed the experience. I also hope that you all enjoy reading it as well. Have a great day, everyone!

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