#i'm aware i am incoherent. it's fine. normal‚ even

[kipperlillycopperkettle]

i don't need to have THREE spinoffs for an unfinished 75k fic. but also. aelwyn spinoff..... i am looking i am thinking etc

[persephoneyss]

Bad Movie.

Pairing: Jung Hoseok x f! Reader. Ft. Jungkook.

Genre: Yandere, dark themes, angst, gore a little.

Summary: ❝Looking for the person you love, beautiful woman.❞

Warnings: Yandere behavior, obsession, harassment / stalking, humiliation, forced marriage, non-sexual intercourse, abuse of power, implicit murder, drug use naming, minor past master / pet relationships, secondary character abduction, ugly hallucinating hoseok , beatings, blood, photos depicting abuse, mistreatment and death, bribery, sexism and humiliation (directly aimed at female prostitutes), hoseok mistreats and humiliates jk, awkward marriage proposals, use namjoon as a secondary character because it hurts more:(, etc.

Number of words: 6000+

︙Author's Note: This is my longest fic so far, I think. It took a lot for me to do it, especially since I didn't have a clear idea about the whole plot that would take and the role that each character would develop. So if you see Jungkook in a kind of strange character, blame my mind for including him almost last. Also, I hate Hoseok in this fic. Namjoon angel and fallen soldier, by the way let me know if they cried with his death, it hurt me to write it. Thank you very much for the 200 notes in my previous fic, I'm crying.

Read the Warnings well and enjoy!

(Sorry for any mistakes, my first language is not English and I am not fluent either.)

Puedes leer este fic y más aquí en español.

Confidence, a beautiful and treacherous feeling at times.

Feeling superior is a constant whisper of the ego within you, calling to be released and make others feel as what they really are, despicable and useless trash. It was fun laughing at losers when you haven't had that sense of defeat yet.

Hoseok fervently watched his rivals fall at his feet, laughing at his incompetence and stomping even more pathetic defeated form even though they were already dead in tears of pain. He smiled, he always did when he felt invincible and He bit his lip gently to hold back an excited laugh.

No one could be compared to him, and in his high sense of power he could never be alert when he struck him with a blast of vengeance.

It was you.

His eyes stared at you in horror and anger, his ego inside him hated you from the first moment. Because while despicable, he loved you for much more than his pride and winning sense.

He fell at your feet but he never made you notice it, behaving as he normally would around you even though he was always behind you.

Luck was her greatest ally, he always smiled at her and she helped him. It was fun to play with your opponents pretending to be the victim, the cornered mouse and then smash everyone with a snap of your fingers.

His mother looked at him with love and his father with pride, he was the only and favorite son of the Jung family. His success was never derived from love, much less, it was blasphemy in his family to say something so false and impossible.

Hoseok admired his family when they met in the great message of his parents' house, his grandparents smiled and his relatives brought out their most exquisite stories to entertain. They were all crows pretending to show interest in a prestigious place in the will of the family's monarch, his grandfather.

It was at one of those dinners that he got to meet you, he used to get bored of hearing his cousins ​​tell their anecdotes with prostitute women who mostly called, whores of a night. Mocking their shocked faces when they refused to pay them and threw them out of their big luxurious houses.

He rolled his eyes when a family friend, little Jungkook who was known to his father because of his prestige in his last name, chimed in trying to get into the conversation with a shy smile.

Lucky bastard, he thought bitterly. He didn't like the little idiot sticking his hands in boiling water, he wasn't even supposed to be there.

He hummed a goodbye as he walked out the front doors, walking aimlessly to his bored eyes. His feet stopped abruptly with a strangled sigh when he first saw you, you looked tired as you apparently searched for a key inside your bag. Could visualize the logo on your shirt from the grocery store where he assumed you were employed, He stood looking for what seemed like an eternity at you before you find the keys and rush through the back door. He snorted before lazily continuing on his way, however the next day he ended up following in your footsteps again and with even more confidence.

It took a few weeks for him to be able to enter the small commerce store and be able to look you face to face for the first time, it was expected that you would serve him with a smile asking if he was offered something. But he did not see you anywhere, he looked for you before another equally young woman approached him kindly, he sighed making a face of disgust surprising the she worker, his expensive shoes got dirty on the floors of the humble place with shame. His little investigation and search took him through many corridors of the establishment, he observed the shelves and each person who seemed to be wearing the uniform of the store thinking of finding you distracted with your work, maybe he thought of approaching you and asking for directions which he clearly didn't need. Knowing that  she you couldn't refuse because that was your job. In a way, you were there to serve him.

He let out a bored sigh, tired of playing hide and seek, he turned around ready to leave that place that disgusted him so much in a certain way, but once again he stopped in an instant. It was a moan. He clenched his fists, walking hurriedly to the place where the noise came from, he was sure it was your voice and that made him even more angry thinking that he would find you in a compromising position with someone.

He did not think that his lover would be such a stupid and dirty person.

You were crouched on the floor, grimacing with pain and exhaustion. You seemed very annoyed trying to lift a box with your arms, the scene was tender and certainly pathetic, she smiled noticing that you were so distracted that you were never aware of how I was watching you with carnal desire and painfully bad adoration.

"I-can I help you." He was surprised at his little babble, justifying himself later. Nobody ever managed to make him nervous, his father used to despise weak people and certainly he always sought his approval by doing things that were not correct. "They seem heavy."

Your face pale before the scare, turning into a face of shame quickly, you shook your head with a gentle movement, smiling still pained. "I'm fine sir. Can I help you? Maybe he got lost, let me guide-..."

"Actually, I do need help but not with your services." I speak in disagreement, you seemed confused but she nodded at his request. The customer is always right, right? How convenient. "I need you to allow me to help you with that heavy box, not to be rude or calling you weak miss, but you can't seem to handle it."

Lie, under his politically correct excuse was a dialogue about how insufficient you are even with things as easy and common as carrying a box, obviously you needed his help and Hoseok could give you that and more, much more. You just had to say it, it was so simple and fun.

"I -... I can do it, but i will accept your help sir ..." He smiled making an emphasis for he to give him his name, he let out a small laugh finishing his sentence.

“Hoseok, you can call me Hoseok, darling..." He mock imitating his position, your name left your lips like a melody and he immediately felt the sweet taste of it slide down his tongue. Beautifully perfect, indeed. "Now that we can finish the introductions please allow me."

Her expensive outfit crumpled as she bent down to lift the box with ease, you were once again oblivious to her incoherent and certainly crazy fantasies, it was like a romance comedy movie in her eyes. The charming fellow always stays with the girl. And likewise, no one could go against the fictional plot.

He was immersed in the beautiful narrative that you would be hers at the end of the credits.

It was not the last time she saw you, she returned to her same routine of continuing to stalk you with obvious impudence. The only thing that really changed was her new setting and her character, he was hiding between the shelves waiting for the right moment to appear in front of you with a charming smile. Over and over, he was locked in an infinite loop.

He was starting to get tired of just having you in his arms and sheets just in his heavy and lustful dreams.

"A date? How funny Hoseok."

His face twisted in annoyance, but he put on a fake smile again when you looked at him again. "Hobi." He corrected in a high-pitched voice, insisting that you call him that. "And she spoke very seriously my dear, everything is ready."

"Eh ... I -..." A simple wave of her hands was enough to shut you up, you frown in confusion and secretly disgusted.

"On Saturday, I'll send you the address of the restaurant. Goodbye, dear!"

You watch it for a few seconds but he's already gone, you resign yourself to continuing with your work of ordering the products on the shelves. Thinking and trying to remember when you gave him your number. A very characteristic noise distracts you, a call makes you smile with love and adoration.

The plot is taking an interesting turn.

Hoseok was charming by nature, his economic position made him even more desirable to the opposite gender and even his own. It was not strange to see people flirting with him or being suggestive with his proposals, he was on a pedestal and he enjoyed it. His subconscious whispered a little bored. I couldn't deny that he became boring in a way, but you appeared in the story as an extra who soon became a main character. You changed the script of his life already established and narrated.

You were so funny.

He smiled in front of the mirror when he thought of you, since he met you that day he started chatting with you secretly from your supervisor. You had told him several anecdotes to make him laugh, you were also naturally charming pulling out various expressions of adoration that you did not even notice. Oblivious to that, you'd better get ready for the climax of the movie.

The wind was strong in the streets of Seoul, your hair was noticeably messy causing you to let out a tired sigh. You should be planning your wedding banquet right now, but you honestly didn't want to leave Hoseok alone at the dinner he had organized. You put the invitation in your bag, thinking of giving it to her when the time was right with a smile. He seemed like a good person and undoubtedly a good friend in the future.

"You're on time, I was just about to order our food. Honey." The last word slid down his tongue with malice and arrogance, Hoseok inwardly chuckling at your disengaged expression.

"Thanks, but don't stop you can order for both." You say arranging your chair correctly.

The restaurant looked relatively empty, there were only three other people including a couple who ate dinner while chatting enthusiastically.

You smile unconsciously, thinking about what would also make you feel the same way.

"I was looking forward to this dinner, my dear. I also hoped I could tell you how much you have captivated me for a long time, specifically since the first day I saw you." And the others too, he thought shifting your posture.

"Thank you, I'm very flattered to cause that feeling ... in, good in you." You whisper clearly uncomfortable forcing yourself to stay calm. You were sure that you had never given a hint or anything else in Hoseok to establish romantic feelings. "But I-... "

"I know, darling. That is why I have to offer you the opportunity to be my girlfriend and my future wife."

Wife?

For a moment, you feel a rush through your body. You refuse to make a scene in front of all the few people present out of respect, you calm down by counting to ten slowly in your head, but it becomes very difficult for you as you continue to observe his comfortable smile and how he behaves. He seemed very sure of the affirmative respect you would give him, you snort angrily at the thought.

"I am sorry to have been misunderstood Mr. Hoseok, but I am not seeking a relationship with you and very sorry I reject any relationship beyond friendship." Your body lifts up, making Hoseok laugh well in advance of your final sentences. "I am engaged and my future husband is waiting for me, good afternoon."

Trembling, you leave the invitation in silence, leaving the luxurious premises in the same way. The waiters watching you with surprise, being an audience of rejection and humiliation on your part. Hoseok sighs, sipping his wine glass patiently pretending not to hear what the couple behind him are saying.

What a bad luck.

Life wanted to want to return all his damn vanity to him, making fun of him with your almost imminent rejection, obviously he knew that you were engaged and that you loved the poor man who had the bad luck to be his competition, but love is not always the important thing in a relationship or at least not of both parties. The voices of the waiters and the couple distract him from his plans for his next step, he clenches his fists angrily dropping the silverware on the plate calling the attention of everyone in the place.

"Filthy vulgar and talkative people, she will be my wife even if her words have been heard by her prying ears." He raised his voice, causing everyone to shut up. "It's just part of the script."

Maybe if the character who wanted to be the main loses the role of him, he should be the villain. The bad guy in the movie.

He read the invitation with meticulous delicacy, laughing at the little message you put aside. He thought about attending for a second, wondering if it would be nice to walk in to go straight to the altar and shoot your husband willing to take his place by your side. But that would be risky.

"Where are we going, sir?" He asked his driver with a smile.

"Take me to the best brothel in Seoul." He whispered delicately, smiling just as happily as before your rejection. I'd make you pay double the bill for your indulgence.

And likewise, the world is a truly small place. Jungkook nodded clearly uncomfortable obeying someone other than Mr. Jung. Hoseok cornered him like a helpless rabbit in the claws of a cunning fox, flashing his jaw in warning. He felt confused about his little assigned task, watching the direction pointing the right way to his chauffeur who only followed orders.

A small feeling of remorse ran through him, making him want to vomit when he remembered how Hoseok's face was so close to his with arrogance, as his hands roamed his arms gently. He was disgusting how he used his power to such a useless and demanding gain, sometimes without any realism.

"Little Jungkook, you have a very lovely name. I'm sorry I didn't tell you before, you were so insignificant that you seemed pathetic to me." He whispered making her wince. "My father told me that you are good at obeying, I would like to test his theory." His cold hands were constantly running down his arms, making a shiver run through his body. "Still remembering well, I already did it before."

Jungkook was weak under his cloak of power, where he could so easily hide it. Lose it. "Yes, h-hyung." An inappropriate moan came from his lips causing him to cover her mouth in shame, a little touch near his crotch was enough to tempt him. Hoseok smirked, narrowing his eyes before walking away slowly wiping his fingers on his expensive clothes in disgust.

"I want you to befriend someone, don't ask, just do it. I'll tell you your next step when you're done." He ordered bored.

"We are here, young Jeon." Notice Jimin with a smile, Jungkook sighed wearily thanking him before getting out of the car ready to fulfill his mission.

I observe him for a few seconds standing in the entrance without doing anything, he was cleaning the windows of the building with force. He seemed like a nice person, certainly a bit humble. He approached making the man bow respectfully, even though he was older. Money can buy everything, they say.

"I am young Jeon, a new investor. May I have a chat with you?"

The man was surprised, no one who was someone by name and a few numbers along with several zeros would be able to notice his presence and at least greet him. A coffee sounded more intimate and undoubtedly inconvenient for him, but again out of respect he accepted the offer with a smile adorning his features.

"My name is Jungkook informally, but I like you and you can call me that." He spoke kindly.

"Namjoon, Mr. Je -... I'm sorry, Jungkook." He corrected sheepishly, making her smile.

He still didn't understand that he planned to do Hoseok with a building cleaner, but he didn't feel in a position worth asking. Furthermore, he would still not receive an honest answer.

He passed by the same place every day, pretending to enter the building only so he could meet Mr. Kim and talk about unimportant subjects. He gained his trust almost immediately, promising that he would give her a better job soon at his own company. He felt like an idiot taking advantage of the man in front of him in such a way for a simple whim from Hoseok.

He was an idiot, but he didn't want to go back to what he was before. A pet.

"I'm very happy, I think she will make a good wife." He responded with encouragement, seeing how Namjoon nodded looking for a picture of his fiancée to show him. He seemed excited, Jungkook understood his happiness after he explained that he saved for a long time to achieve his dream of getting married in a church. They were both in it together, in looking for a future.

He got lost in his thoughts, maybe if he lied to Hoseok about gaining trust from him, saying that Namjoon was a very cold and quiet man, he could make him forget about it. He sighed squeezing the coffee cup in his hands, Namjoon caught his attention by showing a photo of you smiling at the camera with a background of the bridge and the sun behind making a beautiful background.

Jungkook became alert, having seen that face before.

Hoseok had you as the wallpaper on his phone, he knew it was you because of your characteristic features and the scarf you wore in both photos. You were the new fad of a rich fool.

"T-is ... She's so cute, you're very lucky."

Namjoon nodded with a smile, apologizing before returning to his work upon being called by his supervisor. Jungkook put aside his cup feeling the bitter taste of his thoughts, Hoseok was planning something, he knew he was a son of a bitch who liked to keep his plans under lock and key and in a deep grave. He walked away calling for Jimin quickly, before being accosted by Namjoon who came running over, seemingly forgetting something of the utmost importance.

"I apologized Mr. Jeon, but I wanted to give you this personally. It is an invitation, in addition to the proposal to be the best man at our wedding. My fiancee said that it would be appropriate for me to choose someone and I decided that you were perfect, you can decline if you prefer. . " He spoke kindly, as always. Namjoon seemed to have no hatred in his heart, making his own feel heavy on his chest.

Could he bear the blame?

"It's my pleasure to accept her proposal, thank you for considering me. Good afternoon, namjoon-hyung."

He said goodbye by getting into the car as fast as he could, making Jimin look at him with derision. Obviously noticing his nervousness, Jungkook sighed hiding the invitation as much as he could before reading Hoseok's message ordering him to go to his house to sort out his affairs.

It seemed like a joke as he always looked so flawless, ready to humiliate him again.

"Jungkookie, I'm glad to see you again. Now, we'd better come in for our talk." He smiled making anger grow inside him, Hoseok sat on one of his expensive furniture before pouring himself a glass of wine. "Well, I heard from a little bird that you accomplished your task. Good pet."

"Don't call me that, hyung." He grunted in annoyance, making him laugh. "I can't go through with this, I did what you wanted. Leave Namjoon-hyung alone."

"Oh, they're close now really cute. But you forget that I can't fulfill your wish, because "Namjoon-hyung " is an essential piece in my little game." I speak mocking him as always. "Then we will move on to the next step ..." He thinking for a moment, before snapping his fingers. "Invite him to a bachelor party night at the brothel in the center, I already made the reservation. When they are there, leave him alone. A whore will take care of him properly, and maybe you can go make him a oral another yourself." He sneered evilly, reminding her of his past, Jungkook bit his tongue resisting the urge to respond properly. "Since you're clearly good at it, little pet."

"Yes, hyung."

Hoseok nodded saying for him to leave asap, tired of seeing his stupid face. He got up ready to do so, but his arm was taken tightly before bringing his face closer to hers, Hoseok let out a sigh, doing he could smell his breath of mint and wine combined. His hand lowered him into his pockets dangerously close to his crotch, he bit his lower lip to resist a moan escaping him, this had happened before and he begged it to stop forever. From his pocket, she pulled the invitation out, making her gasp in horror.

"Godfather of wedding, new facet of you... kookie." Rolling he eyes pushing him away from him, he fell to the ground before being met by a blow to his cheek. "What a shitty pet, you idiot."

Two days was enough for you to tremble at the thought. Your dress was proud to be seen, it was the most comfortable dress you could find at a fair price. Namjoon tried to enter but he was stopped by your friend who said that he will wait until you keep the dress out of his sight avoiding bad luck. A smile wavered on your face, everything was perfect up to a point.

Namjoon looked at you, a blush covering his cheeks before asking his obvious question. You didn't expect him to want a bachelor party, but you couldn't refuse because you simply trusted him.

Maybe it was your mistake.

You wished him luck, feeling an inexplicable emptiness. Your friends didn't offer to make one for you, they just sat on the couch in their living room talking about movies and arguing about what color the cake would be. It was the calm before the storm.

Jungkook felt a giant headache, the lights of the place were making him dizzy. Jimin had insisted on going with him to such an 'unusual' place to keep him safe. Namjoon had brought a couple of friends who seemed to be always close to him preventing the woman who did the job Hoseok had him do from becoming difficult.

He smiled, thinking that he would have no choice but to let it go. But Hoseok was not a good loser, and neither was he a good winner.

Hoseok:

He distracts his friends, and be careful what you say, kookie.

Received at 11:30 p.m.

He bit his lip, glancing around the bar, thinking he'd find him sitting somewhere spying on everything but nothing looked suspicious. He sighed, sending Jimin out for drinks with one of Namjoon's friends who he gladly accepted. He got up having pushed one away, the other who introduced himself as Jackson seemed more reluctant to leave his friend alone but with a few excuses about feeling bad managed to get him out of sight.

Believed that he would find Namjoon sitting right where he was before but no, he was gone. He felt a burning feeling of guilt, maybe if you didn't find out, nothing would happen.

"You're still the same as before, boss." Jimin sat down next to him, making him uncomfortable.

"Same as before? I am no longer a child."

"But you continue to obey as one. The manipulation they use on you is your greatest weakness, you are afraid, you obey without hesitation thinking about how this will indirectly affect you. But you never do anything to avoid it, you feel bad about this but you still sit here without doing nothing."

"What can I do, Jimin? I don't know if he really left by his will, or if they forced him. I don't want to enter a room in this dirty place and see him sleeping with another woman, because he wanted to and is a fucking infidel . "

Jimin ignored his words, falling silent after several seconds.

Feeling unhappy is a horrible feeling without a doubt. The curious eyes looked at you as if they themselves could judge your story.

Namjoon disappeared as quickly as the wind, many sharp tongues said that he eloped with a lover so as not to marry you. Others believed it was a kidnapping, maybe a robbery gone wrong and he was taken away or he was killed somewhere far away. A sob escaped you just thinking about it, the detective in front of you watched you cautiously.

"We don't know anything about him yet, but we will continue with the investigations."

You nod, without saying a word. Jungkook came in minutes later with a handkerchief in hand, he observed you before gently hugging you. You had the pleasure of meeting him after Namjoon disappeared that night, he introduced himself as a close friend from work and quickly offered to help you with the search.

Maybe he felt guilt.

"Thanks, Jungkook." You smile wiping the tears that escape from your eyes.

"They are looking for the best they can, they even alerted the Japanese embassies in case they might take him there."

"Japan?" Puzzled questions. "Why would someone take him so far? He's just a man with little money, that's ridiculous."

"We don't know, but I promise I won't rest until I find it."

Hoseok sighs bored, witnessing the moment. He had been bribing the bloody police force to hide the information from you about the discovery of your fiancé's corpse floating in the middle of the waters of the river where they used to go together. The only thing that was removed intact from his clothes was a small photo of you smiling, sitting on the banks of the same river.

The police mourned the death, but his faces left grief when they saw the money in his hands. He made fun of Jungkook as usual, who passed by him ignoring him when he went to his house to talk to his father, he knew that the useless little one was very meddlesome in the search for your future husband and ex-fiance. He rolled her eyes remembering how she used to look at him with discontent in meetings, suspicious of him.

He was a good detective, he couldn't deny the obvious.

"You didn't have to do this, a I'm sorry was enough." You say admiring all the bouquets of flowers that came to your house from him. "And I'm sorry for your loss."

He wasn't sorry.

"My dear, losing a loved one is something without a name. I can give you more than this if you promise to smile again, I love your smiles."

Jungkook snorts approaching you from behind, Hoseok to growl at noticing him so close and see how he puts his hand on your shoulder, apparently like support.

"Hyung, he didn't think it's a good time for ... That."

"But little kook, when is not a good time to express how you feel about your loved one?"

"When that person you say you love is crying over the loss of someone special because of evil people who don't know what remorse is. Do you understand that, hyung?"

"No, not really." He laughs cynically making you lose your patience, your little body comes between the two men, with one already furious and the other inadvertently giving up, you make a face of annoyance before speaking.

"Sirs!" You yell at him immediately, Jungkook steps back adjusting his tie. A mania that he had and that you noticed when he presented himself in front of you with regret, he did it when he was uncomfortable or nervous. "This is not the time to argue, I think you'd better leave my house if you're just wasting your time. Thanks for the flowers Hoseok, and Jungkook ... I, I want to continue the investigation on my own."

"That?!"

"What you heard, don't feel responsible for Namj's disappearance -..." You tremble correcting your words, making Hoseok scoff. "My husband, he was just at the wrong time in the wrong place. Thanks for your help, I'll see how to pay you very soon." Jungkook denies trying to insist but fails when you are already closing the door and giving him an apologetic smile.

Your breath feels heavy, you sigh falling to the ground sobbing again. You wanted to find Namjoon, but a large part of you was afraid of how. Dead, with another woman, with serious injuries or simply ... Alive but with trauma for life. You did not want to see him suffer, it was your judgment in life to see the person you love cry in his pain.

You observe yourself, telling yourself that you would be fine when you find it.

Your email seems to explode with thousands of messages received from people claiming to have seen a man like Namjoon near their homes. You ignore them knowing that most of them were false, the first few days you read all of them giving the police false clues that they quickly denied and dismissed.

You dry your tears, closing all the windows and cooking a simple instant soup, eating in absolute silence. It was overwhelming feeling alone at home, where you were supposed to feel safe indoors.

The rain, thunder, and evil outside seemed to be invisible within that place.

A chill runs through you, the control of the television seemed tempting to calm that neat silence and avoid your boredom. You give up turning on the TV, you see the first channel, you keep changing looking for the unknown, you didn't know what you wanted to see. Maybe a newscast saying they found a tall man with dark brown hair and charming eyes unconscious, with a couple of blows to the face and a few scratches but okay, safe, alive and waiting to see your face waiting for him with a warm smile.

Swearing never ever to let go.

A couple of tears slide down your cheek, ruining your fast food. A few knocks on the door manage to scare you, causing you to bite your lip in anger.

"Who is?!" Questions in a shout.

Nothing.

"It better be good ..." You say in muttered, you open the door expecting to see a child running to his house laughing at his childish joke.

But no, there is no one at the door. Just a small envelope that easily slipped underneath, you take it hoping it's a letter from the police announcing good news. Maybe a simple identification of suspicious faces, or footprints at the club.

"I hate being the bad guy, it makes me feel good.

He's dead, I did it for you. For me. For us. I want to make you happy but it's so difficult when I don't know what you want, tell me what you want.

Love you. Love you. Love you.

My heart is so weak in your cold eyes, I feel that you look at me with ignorance of my feelings. Do you want to find it? Do you want to do it?! Okay. Good luck with it. "

It was everything, plus a picture of a golden ring with a large diamond shining brightly. You wrinkle the letter in anger, tossing it into the first bin you found nearby. It seems that in the end, someone did want to joke with you.

Your days remained the same, you went out to work and in the afternoons you called each of the investigators to ask for new news, it was almost always a solid wall, there was nothing really important to report and little by little, they gave up.

Jungkook knocked on the door, he heard some footsteps approaching making him have a little hope. But when the door opened he saw you with a worried face, he felt his heart squeeze in his chest when he tried to get closer but you avoid him by leaving in a hurry. You were dressed in a long black skirt and a white blouse, you were elegantly ready for something.

"Where are you going?" He ask stopping your hurried pace, taking your arm tightly.

"Yo, listen... He... Or her, I don't know who it is but ... You know, he or her know where, he's alive I know. I just don't have time, please."

Your mouth moves wiht fear, you were hiding something but not from him. You were willing to tell him but not now. Not at that time.

"Let me accompany you, I can take you and I will feel better if you are safe."

You nod, letting go of his grip and running down the stairs, outside there is a very elegant car, apparently waiting. The driver smiles at you as if he had known you before, you make an uncomfortable face trying to continue on your way but Jungkook introduces him saying that he works for him.

"Jimin, he's Jimin. He's a good person and a great friend, I've told him about you before."

"I see, sorry." You speak with a bow before climbing to the back, Jimin just smiles kindly, as always.

"Where are we going today?" He asks animatedly, Jungkook takes your hand for support making Jimin remove the smile from him. Your nervous state and your afflicted face are enough for him to understand the situation.

You give him an address, Jimin searches the map being unknown to the place. Your eyes sparkle when the lights of Seoul are reflected in them, Jungkook holds your hand tightly in fear of letting you go again. He felt sick when you stopped calling him, cutting connections with him totally to this day. He spend sleepless nights looking for more clues, the only thing I had until that moment was the identity of the woman, she was a prostitute without anything special, when he spoke with her he seemed indifferent saying that he did not know Namjoon and that the last time he saw him It was when he drugged him and left him in a room as ordered.

The whore made fun of him saying that he would give him this information if he did not tell the police anything, he obviously accepted. Now he repented, the woman disappeared after that and days later she was found in a garbage container. It seemed to be a suicide, the container was from her building, the window of her old apartment faced just where she was supposed to fall if she threw herself without thinking twice.

Right in the garbage.

The wheels of the car made a thud when it stopped, it was a cabin, the only one nearby. You came down quickly thanking Jimin who just made a flirty face. Your hands trembled with the cold, you look at the letter that tells you where and when you should be standing at the door.

"Wait for me here, if we don't go out or you hear noises, you know who to call."

"Yes sir!" Jimin obeys with a laugh at the boss's serious tone of him.

"Y-you should go, I can do this alone." Your voice rises in the echo of the silent place, Jungkook rolls his eyes before offering his arm to you, making his decision clear.

You laugh calming your nerves, the door opens just as you both step close to it. A man stops them, saying that only you can enter the next room. You stop Jungkook who was to protest, you calm him down by leaving your ring in his hands with a smile.

Your body disappears when another man closes the door silently, Jungkook sighs looking annoyed at the guards who ignore him.

A message coming to his phone distracts him for a few seconds.

Jimin:

Should I call the police, Mr. Jung, or the hospital?

Received at 9:35 p.m.

Smile ready to answer before hearing the door open again, he approaching you to ask everything and at the same time nothing. Your pale face is enough to make want to hit the person who was inside with you. Questions remain in the air, your arms surround him while you sob for forgiveness.

From the shadows Hoseok smiles, admiring the document in his hand, your signature shiny as gold is glued to it. He thought it would be more difficult to convince you to accept his marriage proposal, but the precious and expensive ring fit you perfectly. He raised his hand proudly admiring his own, the wedding would be planned as soon as possible making him jump like a happy child.

You had accepted, with the promise that he would bring you back to Namjoon.

But it was never specified in the contract that he would be alive.

The wedding was in a meadow, outdoors with distinguished guests and a few friends and family of yours. Hoseok greeted everyone, by taking your hand tightly introducing you as his wife immediately. It's as if he wants to show everyone that you now belong to him, as if you were a prize.

And maybe if you gave him the key to her success.

"You better smile my dear, nobody wants to know what will happen if you don't." Her lips brushed your hand before placing a chaste kiss on it. "I love you, my beautiful protagonist."

You sob, tears falling from your face as you melt into his disgusting caresses. The man in front of you, your un-predestined husband. The one who stole the position of your true love, he was kissing you delicately.

"Don't cry, decorate the room just the way you wanted. The photos were a special touch ..." His teeth bit into the sensitive skin of your neck, an involuntary groan of pain escaping. "Love you."

Your eyes move desperately to find a photo where the beaten, abused or dead body of Namjoon cannot be seen. You scream when you find one where you see blood everywhere, you are resigned to look down at the ground where Hoseok was crouching kissing the inside of your thighs.

Your mind tried to process the idea that Namjoon had been killed, mutilated and thrown into a river that washed away his body along with happy memories. Farewell to him was prolonged as your body faded in pain.

Hoseok enjoyed the sight of your eyes tightly closed, his cock throbbing inside you as she fucked you like his wife.

The head of the bed moved crashing into the wall, and unconsciously your walls tightened around it causing it to release a curse aloft to the sky.

We got to the end of the movie, smiled as he dazzled the credits by seeing Jungkook's lost name. His little bitch who was his toy for many years, laughed remembering how she did wonders with her mouth.

He pretended not to know him when her father introduced him, taunting her hurt face.

He held you in his arms tightly, you had been struggling to free yourself from his grip as he continued to abuse you over-stimulating your pussy. Your eyes closed falling asleep from crying so much.

He caressed your face, kissing your dry, chapped lips.

The end.

[impracticaldemon]

Interactions ~ The Ghost, Ch.4

A sequel to The Road to Tokyo ~ by impracticaldemon for Saichifest 2019

Words: ~ 1800  Rating: T (though the next chapter more likely M)

Read also on: FFN | AO3

Author's Note: This is Chapter 4 of the story The Ghost, a story that took on something of a life of its own (heh). This chapter was written for SaiChiFest 2019, which I am co-hosting on tumblr Feb 16-19, 2019. I hope you continue to enjoy this journey with Saitō and Chizuru.

@saichifest @nalufever @sabinasanfanfic @hidetheremote @eliz1369 @eheartangel @shell-senji @canadiangaap @soujthings @rainylune @kondo-hijikata @flower-dragon @hakuouki-or-hakuoki @annedey @chiire

Interactions (or, The Ghost, Chapter 4)

They hadn't talked about sleeping arrangements. Despite being officially promised to each other—and sometimes Chizuru wondered if she'd imagined that whole conversation—they hadn't really planned much about their future other than travelling to Edo—Tokyo—and moving into Chizuru's former home. She couldn't help but think that other couples probably did more planning before deciding to—well, start a whole new life together. It was probably strange that she wasn't more anxious about everything, but truthfully, the only thing she feared was losing Saitō again. Which led back to her current dilemma. She wasn't quite sure how to ask to share a room, but she didn't want to be on her own either.

Chizuru stole a quick look sideways. In the past, she'd always been running to catch up, or trotting along a half-pace behind. Today, not long after their shadows had lengthened and blurred, and cool afternoon had slid into chill evening, Saitō had taken her hand and drawn her closer, offering silent support just as her steps had started to drag despite her best efforts. Two long, hard years lay still lay between them, as yet barely touched upon, but he was still as aware of her as he'd always been. In the past, it had saved her life.

"Chizuru." Saitō cleared his throat. "It would be better—safer—that is—tonight…"

"Saitō-san?" It was difficult to read his expression in the half-light.

"Sumimasen." They had come to the small town where they planned to spend the night, and Saitō stopped in front of the first place that offered food and ducked within, releasing Chizuru's hand. She hurried in after him.

The proprietor looked surprised to see them, as well he might. Thanks to the business with the bandits, earlier, they were arriving over an hour later than originally planned, and certainly later than most travelers would care to be out, given the cold and gloomy late-autumn nights. Chizuru saw their host's eyes flick carefully over Saitō, and sensed his tension rise as he took him the unmistakeable shape and size of a sword. She'd gotten more used to that reaction over the course of the day, but she still didn't like it. Saitō took it in stride, and he also ignored the whispers of a small group of locals in one corner.

"Konbanwa," he murmured, bowing politely, but without conceding his dignity as a patron. "If it would not inconvenience you, could you please bring a meal, and tea? We were delayed on the road."

The man hesitated, and then bowed in return. "Of course, sir. I will bring the tea immediately, although if you would prefer sake, please let me know. I don't serve sake in an official way, but there's nothing to stop a man from sharing his own stock."

Chizuru was puzzled by the friendly offer, but Saitō simply nodded, and seated himself at the table closest to the door. He placed his sword on the tatami beside him and gave her a faint smile as she seated herself on his right.

"He will not charge me for the sake, but our meal will cost a little more. There is nothing unusual in it—it simply means that he knows those other customers well, and judges that you and I will not be here long enough to cause any trouble for him."

"I see." She gathered her courage. "Saitō-san—"

"Chizuru—"

She hastily gestured at him to continue, happy to defer asking her question regarding their accommodations. It still sounded overly-forward to her, although she'd already decided that any embarrassment was worth it to avoid leaving his side.

"I do not wish to presume upon our relationship," Saitō said carefully, "but I think it would be safer for us to share a room while we are travelling." Dealing with the host seemed to have settled his thoughts—he no longer sounded flustered. "I promise not to—to impose on you in any way."

"Oh—oh of course, Saitō-san! I'm glad!" In her relief, it came out all wrong, and Chizuru felt heat rise to her cheeks. "I mean, I'm glad that you won't leave me alone. And, um, I'm quite sure—that is, of course I'm not concerned about—about anything like that."

Saitō's expression shifted a little at that, and his eyes moved away from hers, but she couldn't tell what he was thinking. Had she offended him? She couldn't imagine how, and that didn't seem to be quite it.

In the end, the meal was decent, and as reasonably priced as one could expect in this time of short supply. Chizuru poured Saitō's sake with something very like wifely pride, and was delighted—no doubt another overreaction!—to see how pleased he looked at the small intimacy. It was endearing, and she had to look away in order to avoid displaying her feelings too openly for common courtesy. Eventually, the meal concluded, and their host had directed them to the inn recommended by Matsumoto-sensei.

The innkeeper had behaved much like everyone else: wary of Saitō, but courteous, and clearly somewhat reassured by Chizuru's modest appearance and demeanour. He relaxed even further when Saitō mentioned that Matsumoto-sensei had directed them to the inn, and asked quietly—and indirectly—whether the 'problems' besetting the Matsumoto family had been resolved. Chizuru was momentarily at a loss, but when Saitō replied that there were still one or two matters outstanding—most unfortunately—it occurred to her that an acquaintance of Matsumoto-sensei's would know the family's history as Bakufu loyalists. Some members of the extended family remained incarcerated by the Meiji administration in retaliation for their actions during the war.

After a few minutes, Chizuru realized that Saitō was becoming uncomfortable with the increasingly transparent questions about his experiences in the northeast during the war. Long used to trying to avoid prying questions, Chizuru didn't hesitate to feign even greater fatigue than she felt in order to bring the conversation to a quick close. She slumped a little against Saitō's side, and then blatantly interrupted the discussion with a sweet smile and a slew of rather incoherent apologies for her faintness. The innkeeper immediately escorted them to their room with an avuncular—if distressingly knowing—smile. Chizuru discovered that she didn't care and wasn't even embarrassed.

Once the man's footsteps had faded, Saitō surprised her by pulling her close and leaning his forehead against hers.

"Thank you, Chizuru. I—" His arms tightened around her, and although she couldn't see his face, she could hear the strain in his voice, and feel the tension in his body. She instinctively moved her head to rest in the hollow of his shoulder, and his embrace tightened almost to the point of discomfort.

Chizuru swallowed, suddenly overcome by a mix of concern and awareness of the way that their bodies seemed to touch at every point. Surely, she shouldn't be reacting like this when Saitō was in distress? But although she was genuinely worried, she could also feel her heart rate accelerate, and her body seemed to be growing warmer by the moment. She tried and failed to convince herself that it was because she still wore her coat, especially since the brazier was unlit.

"Saitō-san—"

Her words were cut off by a passionate, almost ruthless kiss. Heat flared within her as her beloved, once-mourned Saitō stole her lips and her breath, and left her trembling. Amazing how rational thought could vanish in an instant… She twined her fingers in his indigo hair, and felt his hands caress her back and waist and hips, while still holding her so close that it seemed she could feel every muscle in his chest and stomach and thighs. Her blood was pounding in her ears; she was gasping for air—or maybe for more of his lips and tongue and teeth. When he pressed his mouth to her neck she heard her panting breath change to something like a groan, and it shocked her back to some slight awareness.

How had she thought him calm? How had she missed that he felt this way—although she hadn't really, not since their first real kiss, in his guest-room at Matsumoto-sensei's. His body betrayed him, and she would have blushed if it had been possible to become any redder. And she… her voice held desire, she could hear it, and didn't know what to do.

"Chizuru." Of course, he stopped, mastered himself, shoved her away from him almost as abruptly as he'd kissed her in the first place. Of course. His voice was rough, but controlled. "I'm sorry. Please… forgive me. I want to deserve your trust, and I swear I won't… go farther."

"But—"

"We need time—both of us—I know that."

"But I—"

"It is fine. I'm just sorry… I did that." His breathing was almost normal again, and she couldn't see him well by the light of the one lantern.

"Saitō-san!" They were both a little stunned at the irritation in her tone.

"…Yes?"

"I wasn't complaining."

"I know."

"Then don't apologize as though there was something… wrong… with that… with us feeling like that." She really was embarrassed now, and it was starting to seep through the combined passion and annoyance. In a more level tone, she added, "I told you before—I'm not a child."

She heard him sigh, felt his arms around her shoulders again.

"I know."

"I… didn't mind. Not really."

"Chizuru. We can do better—I can do better—than this. Just"—he laughed softly, at himself, and at her—"stop thinking that I'm… not aware of you… in that way." The kiss he pressed to her bruised lips was gentle, but full of love.

"…I think I understand. But don't treat me as though I don't feel the same way." She tried to make her voice sound firm and grown-up, but in truth she was glad to have a bit more time to get used to this new relationship, this not-quite-the-same Saitō-san.

"I won't—I'll try not to. It's just easier sometimes… You are very beautiful to me."

She stretched up to kiss him, savouring the experience—of the kiss, of being away from any self-appointed guardians, of being wholly her own person. Of being with the man she loved.

They slept with their futons pushed very close together, and that was enough for today. Who knew about tomorrow, though?

[END]

A/Note:

 Less drama, and no bandit attacks, but I felt that these two are bound to be trying to figure out their relationship on several levels. After all, Chizuru thought Saito was dead until just a week before. And Saito is a very cautious man, who just spent almost three years immersed in a hellish war, including almost a year as a prisoner of war. At the same time... they're roughly 21 and 25, they've been deprived of each other for close to two years, and (in my headcanon) they're both starved for physical affection. So hmm. Plus, they have to try to interact with the world around them. As always, your comments are very much appreciated. I apologize sincerely to those who were kind enough to comment on the last chapter (or Teachings of Demons) that I haven't gotten back to. I'm working on it! ~ I

[tin-can-iron-man]

A prompt for you: Tony gets separated from the team and injured on a mission and his suit gets damaged, so he starts to wonder if and when the team might find him since he can't get out on his own. (Sorry, I love reading angst with my favorite characters >.> I'm a masochist like that)

Anthony stark was cold. 

It wasn’t a normal kind of cold however, it was a cold he only felt occasionally, a kind of cold that made him want to scream and fight, but made him also want to close his eyes and accept it with open arms.

He knew what this was. It was how he felt when he woke up on that operating table in Afghanistan, with another mans very steady hands stuck in his chest. It was how he felt when he had carried the nuke into space, fully aware that it’s vast darkness could very well be where his body was to be lost for eternity. It was how he felt when he hit the ground afterwards and as much as he tried to will himself to move, couldn’t get back up until something, a scream of pure rage, jump-started his heart. It was how he felt falling under the waves of his home, his home that had just been obliterated by terrorists.

This was the cold Anthony Stark always felt when he knew he was going to die. 

The cold he had felt too many damn times for it to be “a miracle” anymore. 

He guessed that’s why they started calling him invincible.

The Invincible Iron Man.

But he knew how truly vulnerable he was. And apparently so did his foe this time around. 

He had no idea that there was such a weak spot in his armor. He thought he would have been fine getting shot at while shoving a much more not-bulletproof Clint out of the way. But he wasn’t, they had somehow managed to hit a weak spot in his armor, penetrating the defenses and harming tony dearly. While also cutting off the power and connection for him to move, and he fell. He fell into the rocks and rubble of the street down below. Even the armor audio had cut out.

Nobody could even hear him scream.

he could feel the bullet jostling around in his body, the only other part of him that wasn’t entrapped in the frigid cold. The burning hot sensation of his blood gushing out, and staining the inside of his suit and clothes dark red. 

He thought for a moment of just accepting it, like he had been tempted all those other times as well. He could die, and his friends would mourn, but they would get over it, and find someone else, someone stronger and better, and maybe even smarter to replace him. probably. 

He thought of accepting to to finally be released from his pain. The bullets pain of course. But also the pain of carrying all of his emotions on the inside, it’s not like he wanted to. He just…didn’t know how. How to open up, embrace people into his life in a clear and honest level. The only time he had ever managed was with Rhodey, and he didn’t know how it did it. 

The pain of finally realizing what he had been born to do, what had been breed and carved into his blood, and beaten over and over again and forged like a lump of metal into a shining sword. Only to discover that the sword was double edged. And killing those he had hoped to protect.

The pain of carrying the arc reactor inside his chest, reminding him of the months he spend in the caves of Afghanistan. The pain of watching the man who saved his life die for him, Tony promising him to be a better man. 

He hoped he had kept his promise. 

He could feel the world slow around him, every action and movement took a great deal of effort, even breathing. He was sure the bullet had punctured a lung. 

Tony Stark felt the numbness and disconnection of death.

He wondered if anyone would miss him. 

Probably not.

He heard the faint yelling. Shouting, harsh words he couldn’t understand. 

He felt himself start to move. He struggled to do anything, even breathing had become an intense effort. And he could hear the faint and pathetic noises he was making. And someone whispering sharply into his ears. 

“…with me, Stark” 

Stay with me Stark.

Obie.

NO no, not Stane, anyone but Stane, no please god–it had to be Stane.

It was this moment, for the first time in his life, Tony Stark had ever accepted the idea of an afterlife. Of Heaven and Hell.

And he knew where he was going. It’s not like he expected anything else anyway. 

Hell was probably too good for him.

A jolting pain shot through him, shocking him, it was Tony last line of defense against death, he had added a defibrillator into a part of the arc reactors design, he had forgotten all about that. He could feel just the slightest bit of energy come back into his body. 

With great effort, he slit open his eyes. 

He could see the Iron Man suit ripped to shreds not too far away. Blood pooling around the suit.

He watched as he was dragged away from the armor.

Dragged away from his body.

He felt himself being taken in by the darkness. 

He couldn’t fight it anymore.

He died.

…………………..

Tony Stark opened his eyes in a bright white room.

Someone next to him jolted up and started shouting immediately. 

The voice sounded like….Bruce? 

For the next few hours, people with blurry faces kept coming and going. But one stayed. He wasn’t sure who it was, he couldn’t see them very well. But it couldn’t have been Bruce. No way in Hell did the Hulk manage to die. 

This was a trick, to let down Tony’s guard. 

This was Hell.

 Tony wished he could scream.

But instead he fell back into an uncomfortable sleep.

………………….

Tony Stark opened his eyes once again in the bright room. It was darker this time however. He looked out at a window in the room. The sky was dark.

Does Hell have a day-night cycle? 

He could see everything clearly, there was no blur, no buzzing in his head, no other noise besides his slightly unsteady breathing.

He looked around the room. 

There was a man in a fuzzy over-sized purple sweater with glasses slipping down his face. His eyes were closed. He was asleep.

For a minute he considered the possibility he wasn’t in Hell, maybe he survived. Doubtful, but a possibility. 

He tried to speak. 

The small and pathetic attempt at his name “Bruce.” barely made any noise in the room. 

It was enough. Thank god for all our forced light sleeping habits.

“Tony!” Bruce shouted as he practically dove for the bedside. Falling onto his knees to be eye level with him. 

Bruce was babbling, asking if he was okay, if he needed to call the doctor. At least get him some water?

At that moment, Tony realized just how dry and scratchy his throat was. He would have loved water.

But he could barely speak, with intense and forceful effort, Tony managed to get a “Wa…” sound out of his mouth. But Bruce and Tony had worked together on scientific breakthroughs with only a few groans and incoherent muttering. Familiarity broke through and Bruce hurriedly stood up to get him what he wanted.

“So,” Tony had finally regained a decent amount of his voice after 5 glasses. It was still rash and horse, but it worked. “Are you the one who drew the short stick and are waiting on my beck and call until I’m out of here?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Aaaaannd there he is, Tony Stark.” Bruce threw his hands up into the air. “Making jokes 3 hours after he woke up from being in a coma for 7 days.”

“Seven!?” Tony almost chocked.

Bruce looked at him funny. “Did you forget you almost died?”

“Almost dying is like my signature move.” Tony muttered.

“Well you certainly stepped your game up. Clint told me as thanks he was going to wear nothing but Iron Man themed clothes for a whole month as thanks.”

Tony imagined that and laughed. “He wouldn’t get through one hour.” 

Bruce smiled for a moment, then his eyes grew concerned. “Are you sure you don’t want me to call a doctor?”

“We’re both doctors right here.”

“I meant an M.D, Smartass.” 

“Why do you keep asking that anyway? If I look like garbage just tell me.”

“You look like garbage anyway.”

“Walked right into that one.”

“Tony…” Bruce bit his lip and looked away for a moment, then refocused on the man in front of him. “You didn’t just almost die.”

Tony knew it was a trap. He waited for Bruce to continue, to welcome him into eternal pain and suffering. (It’s not like he wasn’t used to it.)

“Your heart stopped beating four times before we even made it to the hospital. Thor had to keep frying you just so you would stay anywhere in the zone of savable.” Bruce closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “We all watched you die Tony, over and over again. I had to be tranquilized so the other guy wouldn’t run out and wreck the whole state of New York looking for that son of a bitch. He’s really attached to all of you. I am too.” 

“Bruce.”

“Yeah Tony?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Jesus!” Bruce shot up from Tony’s side. Looking completely horrified. “Jesus Tony! Nobody is mad at you for almost—for actually fucking dying over and over again!” 

“Please try not to Hulk out Bruce, I’ve literally died several times recently.”

Bruce froze and looked somberly down at Tony.

“Believe me, I know.” He replied. Then there was a mostly comfortable silence.

“I uh, I was suppose to call Cap “The exact very second Tony wakes up”. So I’ve got to make a call, and you,” Bruce pointed a finger at him. “Better get ready for being fussed over by everyone until you’re discharged.” With that statement, Bruce stood up, grabbed his phone, and closed the door with a quiet click. 

Tony Stark finally figured out in that moment, lying alone in a clean hospital bed, that if he were to die, there were people who would miss him. People who would be so desperate to keep him alive that they would chose to suffer and watch their friend die over and over again just to get the chance to save him. 

Tony wanted to say he could feel his heart swell, and while he did feel a great deal of affection for his team. his team. But there was also an underlying fear, a fear of them being willing to put themselves on the line for him. Which is something he never wanted to happen. Something he could never experience. Not again.

So Tony Stark didn’t know how to feel staring up and the dark sky, with the brightest of stars shining brilliantly in the night.