Pairing : Yandere!Yang Jeongin X F!Reader TW : Yandere Themes ; Verbal Abuse ; Manipulation ; Small Amount

Pairing : Yandere!Yang Jeongin x F!Reader TW : yandere themes ; verbal abuse ; manipulation ; small amount of physical abuse ; self harm ; attempted suicide ; blood Word Count : 2.7k Request : @slayhyunjin - can you do a yandere one for jeongin where hes like abusive and always comparing you and you try to leave or something but then he like apologizes

It was a natural reaction at this point, your body tensing up as you heard the lock click on the front door, the keys dangling as he walked through, his shoes carelessly kicked off before walking over to you. You dreaded the moment he walked through the front door, and it was strange considering not too long ago you used to wait for him to come home like a puppy waiting for their owner. The only thing that hadn’t changed was the fact that he was your owner. There was nothing that you could do without him breathing down your neck, making sure that you always abided by what he said and what he wanted. Truth be told, you were scared of him, that smile that he always wore when he was working or out with the other guys, you hadn’t seen it in months. He wasn’t the Jeongin that had won you over with his charming grin and his sweet talk, his soft touches and gentle kisses… He was just Jeongin… 

“Dinner isn’t done yet?” He asked as he stood on the other side of the oven, his eyes glancing at the little clock on the microwave. You knew it wasn’t actually a question though, he was judging you once again, and as often as you went through it, no amount of time would pass that would allow you to get used to the harshness of his words when he got annoyed with you. “You know when I come home, you know what I like, and you still fail to have it done. Does your head not work? Are you stupid?” 

His finger prodded roughly against your temple, and you knew better than to move away from it because it would only get worse if you did, so you stood steady, holding your breath to keep from getting choked up. “I’m sorry… The oven wouldn’t light… I had to call the landlord so he could fix it and-” A sharp smack landed across your face before rough fingers gripped your chin, forcing you to look at him. 

“He?!” He shouted, his voice cracking from the force behind the simple word. “You brought another man into my house while I was at work?!” You tried to shake your head but his grip only got tighter, long fingers digging painfully into your jaw, you could have sworn it would crack. “If you have a problem you call me! If you need help you call me! What don’t you understand about that?!” He dropped his hand and you rolled your jaw, the movement only worsening the ache that you felt in the bone. 

“You would have yelled at me if I called…” You mumbled, turning back to the stove and stirring the vegetables that were in the pot. “I didn’t want to bother you while you were working… I didn’t think it would be such a problem. Dinner should be done soon…” You tried to calm him down, but you knew that it was no use, he was already angry. He always seemed to be mad whenever he was around you, like your existence in general irritated him to no end. It made no sense why he stayed with you, why he refused to let you leave. 

“She would have still had dinner done before I got home.” He commented, yanking back the chair at the dining room table and dropping down into it. You could feel his eyes on you, as if he enjoyed watching your reaction whenever he brought her up. You tried to not let it bother you, but the constant mention of his ex, the way he compared everything that you did to her, there was no way to ease the sting that it caused whenever she was mentioned. 

“I’m sorry I’m not her.” Was all you could say as you grabbed the bowl from the cabinet, your lips tightly pursed to keep from sobbing. “Would you like a drink?” You whispered, placing his dinner in front of him and standing off to the side, waiting to serve him. You were nothing more than a servant to him, bending to his every need, giving him everything that he wanted whenever he wanted it, never asking for anything in return. Just being with him was reward enough, at least that’s what he always said, as if he were the greatest thing to ever happen to the world. 

“Obviously. You make everything so fucking salty. Get me a coke or something to wash this shit down.” There was always something to complain about. No matter what you did, you did it wrong. Nothing you did was right, and there was only so much you could take. You were emotionally broken, and every single interaction with him had you feeling like you were walking on pins and needles, just waiting for the moment when something you said pissed him off and he lashed out. 

You nodded, quickly going to the fridge and grabbing a can, not even attempting to open it, knowing that if even a drop splashed out of the can he would go off on you again. “I’m gonna go get the room ready for bed now…” You mumbled, your head still hanging low as you took a step back from the table, awaiting his okay for you to go. Usually he’d tell you to leave, remarking that he couldn’t stomach his dinner when he had to look at you, but now his head whipped up, his eyes narrowed at you. 

“What kind of girlfriend doesn’t eat dinner with her boyfriend?” He snapped, kicking out the chair across from him and motioning towards it with his hand. “Why are you running off, huh? Are you talking to someone else? Let me see your phone.” His hand was held out, palm up and for a moment you didn’t know what to do. You didn’t know where this was coming from, but your lack of movement had him reaching into your pocket himself and yanking your phone out. “A password?” He screeched, holding up your phone so you would see it. “What are you hiding from me? Unlock it, now!” 

You quickly typed in the code, backing up another step until you were against the counter. You weren’t sure why you were so nervous about him going through your phone, it’s not like you did anything on it or used it to talk to anyone but him, but the way his expression changed as he scrolled through the device had your heart racing. 

“What’s this incoming call? What’s this number?” He held the phone up once again and you stared at the number, trying to figure out what it was, and the more you tried to think the more irritated he got. “Are you fucking cheating on me?! That’s why you got a password, right? Trying to hide things from me? She would have never done something like this!” 

Your phone was thrown onto the floor, the glass screen shattering on impact and you had finally gotten to your breaking point, broken sobs had your body shaking. “Then why are you with me?” You muttered through shaky breaths, your hands rubbing the tears from your cheeks until your skin felt raw. “Why did you leave her if she’s so good? Why are you with me if you think I’m shit?” 

He scoffed, leaning back in his chair as he smugly shoved away the bowl that you had put in front of him, the soup splashing over the sides and spilling onto the table. “I wish I knew the answer, but I’ve been regretting that choice since I got with you.” The smirk on his face, the snideness of his voice, it’s not that you weren’t used to it, you just never were able to be strong enough to not let it hurt you. Everything he did, everything he said, if his words were weapons you’d be covered in scars from how much he hurt you with them. 

“I’m sorry I’m here…” You mumbled, bowing your head before going to the bedroom. It’s not like you were any safer in there, he had taken off the locks just so that you had nowhere to run, nowhere to hide when he got too angry. This was the first time he didn’t follow you into the bedroom just to berate you more, and maybe he was just building up more ammo, thinking of more things to say just to break you down a little bit more. 

At one point you loved him, at one point you even loved yourself, but now it was like that feeling no longer existed in the world that you lived in. You hated him, and you found in yourself everything that he saw when he looked at you. You knew he wouldn’t let you leave, and that was the worst part. You were stuck here, stuck in this house to be tormented and tortured by him whenever he liked. You couldn’t take it anymore. 

You would never be her, you would never be loved by him, and sometimes you wondered if he only got with you to try to fill the void in his life that she left when they had broken up. He didn’t actually love you, and maybe he had tried, but he realized that you just weren’t her and you never would be. All you had become was a punching bag for him to take out his frustrations on. 

Starting up the water in the bathtub, you plugged the drain, watching with tears in your eyes as the water filled. Should you add bubbles, at least make the last few moments slightly relaxing? You chuckled humorlessly to yourself as you shook your head at your own suggestion. What a foolish thing to think about right now. You really were stupid, he was right. You grabbed the razor off the counter before climbing into the tub, the pajama pants that you were wearing pulling you down as they became drenched with the water. 

“I’m sorry…” You whispered, staring deeply at the razor that reflected the light that hung above the mirror. So many mornings you stood in front of it, staring at your reflection, trying to find something about yourself that maybe he’d love, that you could love to give yourself some sort of reason to keep going. All you could find were dried tear streaks and welted handprints. There was nothing to love there, nothing to love here. “I’m sorry I’m here…” You repeated, your hand shaking as you brought it down to your wrist. 

“Y/N…?” His voice called from outside the bathroom door, and when it opened, everything happened in a second. He rushed over to you, grabbing the wrist of your hand that held the blade, pushing it away from your other arm. “What the fuck are you doing?! What are you thinking?!” He shouted, his voice trembling as he stared at you with wide, panic filled eyes. 

You struggled to push against his grasp, but you were weak, you were tired, you were just done. “Just… Let me… God… please just let me…” You shouted through your tears, water splashing over the sides of the bathtub as he tried to pull you out. 

“No!” He shouted back, pinning your arm against the tile wall, his own tears falling as his head shook. “Why are you… Why are you doing this?! You’re trying to leave me! You can’t!” His hand shook your arm, trying to get you to drop the razor, but your grip around it only tightened, causing the blade to cut deep into your palm, a warm trail of blood trickling down your arm. “Fuck!” He screamed, using both hands now to try to pry your fingers open. “Stop! Please stop!” 

You finally relented, although not willingly, you were just tired of the fight. The blade dropped into the bathtub as you released it, and he took the opportunity to quickly pull you out, your body falling on top of his as you both fell onto the floor. “I’m… gonna be stuck here… forever… Why? Why can’t I leave? I’m shit! I’m nothing! I’m not her! Why… Why am I here? I don’t get it!” You were crying hysterically, blood still dripping from your hand and pooling on the floor beside you. 

“I…” Jeongin started, and for once, he didn’t know what to say. For once, for the first time since you could remember, he wasn’t belittling you, he wasn’t yelling at you. He was crying. He was scared. “You’re… You’re not shit… I… I’m sorry… I’m… I’m shit…” He stammered out the words, his hands shaking as he reached out for your face and you instinctively flinched away from him, causing him to gasp softly as his hands dropped down to his lap. “Oh god… What did I do… What do I do? Let me… let me help…” He looked down at your hand, his body trembling with silent sobs. 

“Why?” You whispered, hugging yourself tightly as you backed up against the wall, your knees pulled against your chest. “So you can yell at me… So you can hit me again? So you can tell me how stupid I am? So you can tell me that she’s never done something like this before? I’m sure she didn’t… Because you loved her… Because you wanted to be with her…” You sniffled loudly, looking back at the tub, the blade at the bottom of it catching the light still. His eyes followed yours and he quickly got into your line of sight. 

“I’m awful… And I’m sorry… I’m sorry I made you feel like… like you had to do this… like this was the only way…” He whispered, his lips trembling as he spoke. “I broke you… And I know that saying sorry isn’t going to fix it… It’s not going to fix you. You’re not stupid… and… and I don’t know why I’m like this. I don’t know why… I just… I want to keep you with me so bad… I’m scared you’re going to leave me… And… And that makes no fucking sense but… I don’t want to lose you… I don’t. I… I love you, and I don’t say it often enough… I don’t say it at all, but I do. You’re beautiful and… and you deserve so much better but… I don’t want anyone else to give you that. I want to be better… for you… You deserve the best of me, and… and I’ll give you that… I swear I will… Please… Don’t do this to me…” He fell forward, his forehead resting against your knees. It was the first contact you’ve had with him that didn’t hurt. It was shocking, it almost felt unnatural… Awkward even. “I’ve never been so scared… Don’t leave me… Please don’t leave me. I need you…” His head slowly lifted, his cheeks red, blotchy and tear coated, and as you stared at him, he slowly leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours, the action causing you to gasp and pull back as your eyes widened. “What…?” 

“You… You never kiss me…” You stammed, eyes wavering before dropping your head back down. “I don’t… I don’t want you to do that again… I don’t want to feel like… Like things will be okay… And then they’re not. Please… Don’t… Don’t touch me… Don’t…” 

You quickly pushed yourself up off the floor, running into the bedroom and pulling out the first aid kit from under the bed as he watched you, still sitting in the middle of the bathroom. It was his turn to cry, his turn to feel unwanted and useless. It was his turn to feel like shit, to feel like everything in the world was falling apart around him. He felt hopeless, he felt lost. There was nothing he could do but watch… You wanted nothing to do with him. Now it was his turn to be on pins and needles, but it was deserved, and seeing you in the bathtub had been a wake up call for him, and those pins and those needles would keep him awake, eyes wide enough to appreciate the woman in his life that he loved and adored, that he took for granted, that he hurt… The woman that he almost lost for good.