You sobbed weakly, your body trembling under his grip.
You: "Y...Yoongi, pl...please listen to me once... please."
Before you could say another word, his hand struck your cheek—hard.
Your head snapped to the side, a sharp sting blooming across your skin. The impact left you completely silent. A gasp got stuck in your throat, your lips trembling as fresh tears spilled from your eyes.
Your vision blurred, but you could still see him standing up. He grabbed your face roughly, forcing you to look up at him. His grip was firm, his fingers pressing into your cheeks.
Yoongi: "If I tell you to starve for a week, then you will starve."
His voice was cold, unwavering.
You barely managed to nod, your body shaking uncontrollably. Tears kept rolling down your face, your hands trembling on your lap.
With a disgusted scoff, he jerked your face away and walked off.
The moment he disappeared, your whole body slumped. A strangled sob tore through your throat, your shoulders shaking violently. You buried your face in your hands, crying into your palms.
Was this really what you were born for?
Why did it always feel normal to them?
Why couldn't they stop degrading you?
Yoongi stood on the stairs, watching.
His sharp eyes took in the sight of you—your crumpled form, your muffled sobs, the way your whole body shook with silent agony.
He sighed.
He turned to leave... but something held him back.
His feet didn’t move.
After a moment of hesitation, he walked back.
You sensed his presence before you saw him. Panicked, you hurriedly wiped your tears with the back of your hands, trying to compose yourself. But it was useless.
Yoongi reached you in two strides and grabbed your face again, his fingers gripping your jaw.
Yoongi: "Are you crazy, huh? When I told you on Friday that you wouldn’t eat, then why did you, huh!?"
His voice was sharp, accusing. His dark eyes bore into yours, expecting an answer. But your throat was dry, your breath uneven.
What could you possibly say now?
You sobbed quietly, your eyes squeezed shut, unable to stop the tears from flowing.
You: "I...I'm s-sorry..."
Your voice cracked with emotion as the sobs overtook you. The guilt and fear intertwined, making it hard to breathe.
Then, without warning, Yoongi kissed you.
You didn’t pull away, didn’t kiss him back, knowing all too well the consequences of trying to resist him.
He kissed you deeply, his lips urgent against yours, and when he pulled back, he bit your lower lip gently, a faint sting lingering as he finally broke the kiss.
Yoongi: "Next time, don’t dare listen to others when I’ve ordered you."
His voice was firm, but you could hear the edge of frustration beneath it. You nodded quietly, tears still flowing freely.
It was strange, wasn’t it? Even though you were supposed to be like family, sometimes the ego between brothers got in the way—especially when it came to Taehyung. Yoongi couldn’t stand how Taehyung showed sympathy toward you, as if it meant something he couldn’t control.
Yoongi’s grip on you tightened as he suddenly lifted you, making you flinch in surprise. You gasped, your heart racing as you grabbed onto his shoulder, your body tense with the fear of falling.
But his hold was unrelenting—strong, as if he wouldn't let you fall no matter what.
He carried you into your room and gently laid you down beside Kwon. You could hear his soft breathing, but Yoongi’s presence was overwhelming.
He leaned over you, his face close, and wiped away your tears with his thumb.
Yoongi: "Don’t cry..."
Then, he hesitated for a moment, his voice shifting as he glanced at Kwon.
Yoongi: "Hurry up, don’t cry. Kwon will wake up..."
His words were hurried, as if he suddenly remembered that your son was nearby. The room felt suffocating, yet you couldn’t pull away. The tension between you two remained thick, an unspoken understanding hanging in the air.
You nodded, your eyes locked on Yoongi as he stood up and moved to the other side of the bed.
You struggled to control your sobs, trying to quiet the cries that threatened to break free.
Yoongi, on the other hand, turned his back to you. It was clear he didn’t want to face your crying face, knowing full well it could make him weak—make him care, something he was determined to avoid.
His body language screamed resistance, as if he was fighting against his own emotions, unwilling to let them surface. He didn’t want to show you that he cared—not now, not ever.
-----
(after few days )
You: "Ah!!!..." The force of the slap made you stumble backward, crashing onto the bed. The sharp sting on your cheek sent a wave of heat through your skin. You felt the blood slowly trickling down the corner of your lip, and your trembling hand reached up to touch it. A silent sob escaped you as tears rolled down your face, your heart pounding.
Jungkook stood over you, his eyes wild with fury. "Why did you make him say sorry, huh?!" His voice was low but full of venom. He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. "That's not your son! He won’t say sorry to anyone! You want to make him weak like you?!"
You could feel the weight of his anger pressing against you, and even though your body screamed in pain, you couldn’t bring yourself to look away. His words cut deeper than the slap.
Jungkook's grip tightened on your hair as he stepped onto the bed, his weight pressing down on you. You yelped, trying to pull away, but his hold was unrelenting. His breath was hot against your ear as he leaned down, his voice low and dangerous.
“Good manners?!” he hissed, his fingers digging into your scalp, making your head throb. “You think teaching him manners will make him soft?” His tone was cold, almost mocking.
You struggled beneath him, hands shaking as you tried to push his arm away, but he only pulled your hair harder, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Stop! Please... please, Jungkook... I-I was just... trying to...” You gasped for air, the fear creeping into your chest, making it harder to speak. “I... I just want him to be better... I didn’t mean anything wrong...”
Jungkook’s foot slammed down beside you, and before you could react, he shoved you hard. Your body hit the cold floor with a sickening thud, pain shooting through your limbs. You gasped, trying to catch your breath, the chill of the room seeping into your skin.
"Manners, huh?" Jungkook's voice was dripping with disdain as he unbuckled his belt, the sound of metal on leather ringing in your ears. He took slow, deliberate steps toward you, his eyes burning with anger. "Now you will teach our son manners?" he mocked, his grip tightening around the belt.
Fear gripped you, and you scrambled weakly on the floor, your body trembling. You couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. "J...J...Jungkook, not this... please... just listen to me once..." you begged, your voice breaking as you reached out toward him, but he didn’t stop.
He wrapped the belt around his palm, his gaze never leaving you. With each step closer, you felt smaller, more helpless. Your sobs filled the silence, but nothing seemed to reach him.
How strange, how painful it was—once, you had been the one pushing, slapping, fighting back. Now, you lay there, powerless, begging for mercy. "Please, Jungkook..." you whispered, but your words were swallowed by his anger.
Jungkook: "Let me teach you some respect."
You cried out as the belt struck your legs again. The blow was too harsh.
You: "Ahh! No!!!"
Again and again, he hit you. What had you done wrong? Just because you told Kwon to apologize? He had troubled an elderly man, a gardener, and you thought it was right to teach him the importance of saying sorry. But Jungkook saw it differently. In his world, showing respect to someone deemed lower in status wasn’t something to be tolerated.
Your body trembled in pain, each strike leaving you with deeper marks. The heat from the bruises was unbearable. Jungkook threw the belt aside, running his fingers through his hair, his anger still palpable.
Jungkook: "Pathetic!"
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