The Play | Yandere Taehyung x Reader
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only.
I do not give permission for my work to be re-posted anywhere, even with credit. But please re-blog, comment, and interact. Thank you!
Pairing: Yandere Taehyung x Female Reader
Word Count: 4,292
Author’s Note:
This is my very first Taehyung two-shot and I had so much fun writing it — I hope you have just as much fun reading it!
I’m not Korean, and I’ve done my best to research the names, cultural references, and language used in this story. If I’ve made any mistakes, I sincerely apologize and am open to kind corrections.
Thank you so much for reading. 💜
Reblogs, comments, and feedback are deeply appreciated!
Summary:
End of the 1800s. A beautiful day meant for vows, for futures, for dreams—destroyed in a single breath. You were meant to be a bride. But instead of walking into forever, you stepped into a stage already set, every line rehearsed, every fall of the curtain planned. And the man behind it all? The one who calls himself your savior.
Warnings:
Dark themes, obsession, manipulation, yandere behavior, noncon/forced kissing and touching, psychological horror, emotional coercion, murder, strangulation, body horror, implied forced pregnancy, unsettling power imbalance, gaslighting, 18+ only.
Act One – Until the Curtains Fall
Y/N POV
Tears streamed down my cheeks, each drop a reflection of my shattered hopes as I gazed at what was supposed to be the most beautiful day of my life, now lying in ruins like shattered glass scattered across the floor.
My bridal bouquet, once a symbol of joy and hope, lay discarded beside me, the pristine white roses now crushed and wilted, echoing the breaking of my dreams.
My father’s furious outburst pierced the air, while my mother’s silent tears fell like raindrops, each one intensifying the reality of this moment.
“How can he do this to my daughter? How could he possibly run away from his own wedding?” My father’s anguished scream sliced through the haze of disbelief surrounding me, jolting me into the harsh reality of the situation.
With trembling legs, I stood up and took a hesitant step toward him, my heart pounding like a drum in my chest. I placed my trembling hand on his shoulder, desperate to offer comfort, even as I felt the weight of despair settling in.
He turned to me, his grasp tightening around my hand, his eyes filled with helplessness. “What will your future hold now?” he cried, his voice thick with grief and confusion.
“No one will care about the truth; they will all cast blame on you. How can I protect you from their judgment and the questions of prying eyes?"
For the first time in my 19 years, I witnessed my father crumble, tears spilling down his weathered cheeks. “Kyung-jae?”
A voice called out from the dimly lit doorway, cutting through the heavy silence. When my father lifted his gaze, the vulnerability in his eyes morphed into a storm of fury.
He released my hand as if it were a lifeline slipping away, and charged towards the man standing awkwardly at the entrance. “Where is he? Where is your cowardly son?” My father's voice thundered through the room, anguish steeped in every syllable.
The man who should have been my father-in-law, once a figure of pride in our village, now stood with his head bent low, shame washing over him. “I am deeply sorry, Kyung-jae. I never imagined my son would do such a thing. Please, forgive me and my family?”
A humorless laugh erupted from my father, echoing painfully in the tense air. “Do you see my little girl?” He spat, his voice trembling with barely contained rage.
“Today should have been one of the happiest moments of her life, and your son has shattered it! He was the one who begged for her hand, and your apologies won't protect her or her future from this heartbreak.”
The man stood there, stricken and defeated, his gaze fixed on the floor as if it held the answers to his son’s treachery.
Even though my rational mind knew he bore no responsibility for his son’s cowardice, I felt rooted to the ground, paralyzed by the weight of his son's betrayal and heartbreak.
I stood frozen in place, an immovable weight enveloping my body, while my mind drifted in a thick haze. Slowly, the blend of anxious voices that filled the room began to fade into a distant murmur, and the numbness that gripped my mind crept into my other senses, dulling my perception of the world around me.
“Excuse me for my late arrival!” A voice broke through the fog, sharp and clear. “As soon as I learned of the unfortunate events here, I rushed over. Ahjussi, please try to calm yourself. I know this won’t change anything, but your health is paramount.”
I lifted my gaze, focusing through the mental fog, and saw the son of one of the oldest, wealthiest families in our village. With quiet authority, he helped my father into a nearby chair, a gentle but firm touch as he guided him. Then, he turned to the other man in the room, his expression a mixture of concern and determination.
“Ahjussi Choi, have you found Dae-hyun? Do any of his friends have any idea where he might be?” Ahjussi Choi bowed slightly in deference before answering, his voice trembling with barely concealed frustration.
“Kim-nim, we have searched everywhere, but my cowardly son is nowhere to be found. I have no idea where he is.” His steps toward my father were cautious, each one laced with uncertainty as the weight of the situation pressed heavily upon us all.
“Kyung-jae, you don’t have to worry,” he said, his tone steady but warm. “Y/N is like a daughter to me, and I promise to protect her at all costs. She will be well taken care of.” His gaze drifted around the room, finally landing on me, intense and unwavering.
"Don't you dare, Choi! You have no right..." My father's voice trembled with emotion, cracking under the weight of his words, before he succumbed to a violent coughing fit. Kim Taehyung quickly moved to his side, offering a glass of water, while my father slumped back in his seat, visibly drained. I rushed over, my heart racing.
“Appa!” I knelt beside him, my hands shaking slightly as I took the glass from Kim-nim's caring grasp. I carefully lifted it to my father's lips, urging him to drink.
He took slow, deliberate sips, each one seemingly a small victory against the fatigue that weighed him down. As he set the glass aside, his eyes filled with sorrow.
“My daughter, what will become of your future? I have failed you as a father... Your Appa has failed you.” He grasped my hands in his rough, calloused ones, tears spilling down his weathered cheeks.
“Appa, please don’t cry. You are the best father in the entire world. We will face this together, and I promise you, everything will be fine.” Just then, a mocking laugh sliced through the tension in the room.
The ominous figure of my step-aunt entered, her presence filling the space with a chilling tension, and I could feel the dread creeping back into my heart.
“Kyung-jae, just look at the mess that arises when you grant your daughter such unrestrained freedom.” The woman spat, her voice thick with disdain. “She has utterly destroyed our family name, and soon, the entire village will be laughing behind our backs.”
With deliberate steps, she approached us, supported by her gnarled walking stick, each creak of the wood echoing the weight of her words.
“We still have an opportunity to remedy this situation. Han Jun-su is eager to marry your daughter. This could be the perfect chance to rid ourselves of this scandal.”
She insisted, her words slick with the promise of resolution, but tinged with ulterior motives. My mother’s breath caught in her throat, and for the first time during this entire ordeal, her voice broke through the tension.
“Han Jun-su is older than my husband, your own brother! How can you even suggest such a thing? My daughter will not become the prey of that predator!”
Her voice quaked with the fierce protectiveness of a mother, fueled by righteous anger. Appa was caught in a whirlwind of disbelief.
His eyes widened in shock as he absorbed the repugnant suggestion from the woman before him, his heart racing as he prepared to unleash his pent-up outrage.
But before he could react, Kim Taehyung's voice cut through the air from the right, a calm yet steely warning.
“Ajumma, while this may be a private matter for your family, I advise you to carefully choose your words in my presence.” I glanced at him; his eyes were narrowed, a storm brewing within them, yet he maintained his composure as he turned back to my father, standing resolutely against the confrontation.
“Ahjussi, if you don’t mind, I would like to marry your daughter.” His words hung in the air like a heavy fog, and as I processed them, my wide eyes scanned his expression, searching for any flicker of emotion, but found none.
He shifted his gaze toward me and slowly bent down to my level, as I remained crouched on the floor, feeling the weight of the world pressing down on my shoulders.
“Y/N?” He said, his voice steady but tinged with a gravity that made my heart ache.
“I know this isn’t the future you imagined. But if you agree, your family will remain safe. This world is cruel, and justice rarely favors the innocent. Society is quick to point fingers, especially at those who don’t deserve it. I won’t pretend to approve of how things have unfolded, but change is slow and often comes at a price. In the end, the choice is yours. Just know that I will respect whatever decision you make.”
As I stood up, my mind felt like a foggy landscape devoid of clarity, while my heart sank under the immense burden of the moment.
I cast a glance at my mother, her face twisted in worry, and my younger sister, who looked lost and frightened. In that instant, a painful realization settled within me; I knew what my answer would be.
I turned back to my father. “Y/N, your appa will take care of everything. You don’t have to agree to this.” He urged, his eyes filled with an unwavering determination to protect me.
I attempted to muster a reassuring smile, but it faltered at the edges as tears threatened to spill from my eyes, reflecting my inner turmoil.
“I know, Appa. I know.” With a heavy heart, I took a deep breath and walked towards Kim Taehyung, each step feeling both burdensome and inevitable. Standing before him, I drew on every ounce of courage I had left. “Kim-nim, I agree to marry you.”
***
The marriage rituals unfolded in a thick haze, a surreal blur where my body moved through the traditions, but my mind drifted far beyond the moment. Kim-nim, no, he was my husband now, insisted that I call him Taehyung from this day forward, a name that felt both foreign and yet strangely intimate.
Following the simplicity of our vows, a grand carriage awaited us, its polished wood gleaming under the soft, warm sunlight.
One of his servants approached, lifting my trunk with practiced ease and loading it into the carriage, a quiet reminder of the life I was leaving behind.
As I prepared to depart, my heart ached at the sight of my mother and sister enveloping me in tight, tearful hugs, their love wrapping around me like a warm blanket. My father stood at the carriage door, his expression a mixture of pride and sorrow.
When the moment came to leave, I turned toward my father, wrapping my arms around him tightly as silent tears spilled down my cheeks. “Don’t cry, my daughter.” He murmured, his voice thick with emotion.
“If you don’t stop now, your old man will surely start crying too, and I’d prefer the village to remember me as the strong man I am.”
His attempt to lighten the mood brought a chuckle from my lips, momentarily brightening the heaviness that filled the air as I reluctantly let him go.
Taehyung-ssi stepped forward, taking my hand gently but firmly. He turned to my father, his gaze steady and sincere.
“Ahjussi, Y/N is now my wife. I promise to provide her with everything she needs. She will want for nothing, and I assure you, I will never let her go.”
There was a weight to his words that startled me; my eyes widened in surprise, searching for any trace of insincerity, any sign that this moment was not as it seemed.
Yet, everything around us appeared perfectly ordinary, as if the world itself conspired to conceal the brewing storm of emotions within me.
He gently turned me around, guiding me inside, and I felt an overwhelming heaviness settle in my body, exhaustion gripping me like a thick blanket. Taehyung-ssi bid farewell to my family, his voice calm and reassuring, his demeanor radiating warmth.
An uncomfortable silence hung in the air as he entered the confines of the looming carriage, his presence a steadying force. As we stood before the monumental doors of his grand home, I could feel my heart racing with both apprehension and curiosity.
When the doors swung open, Taehyung's mother emerged like a vision of grace, her aura commanding immediate respect. Taehyung stepped slightly in front of me, almost as if to shield me from the intensity of her gaze.
“Taehyung, welcome back.” She said, her voice resonating with a blend of warmth and a touch of formality. “I would have been ecstatic to witness my son’s wedding in person, but even so, my son is now wed. Now, step aside and let me see my daughter-in-law.”
With a gentle push, she nudged him to the side, a gesture steeped in both authority and affection. I lowered my gaze, feeling the weight of her expectation as she gracefully approached me.
“She is beautiful.” She remarked, her eyes assessing me with a mixture of scrutiny and appreciation. “But she must learn our ways.” Her voice softened slightly as she asked.
“Your name is Y/N?” I nodded, my cheeks warming under her scrutiny, unable to meet her understanding gaze.
With a tender yet firm grasp, she lifted my chin, compelling me to look up. When our eyes finally met, I was struck by the depth of emotion swirling in her expression—pride danced alongside a flicker of sadness, a poignant reminder of the complexities of family and tradition.
For a fleeting moment, I thought she might say something further, but instead, she abruptly released her grip and turned her attention back to her son.
“As your wife, she has certain duties to fulfill. She is not merely the daughter of a humble craftsman; she also carries the weight of being a daughter-in-law of the esteemed Kim family. I will arrange for a few handmaids to assist her; they will ensure she learns our family's traditions and customs properly.”
With that, she took her leave, and we all bowed deeply in respect. A maid, graceful and efficient, ushered me inside. After navigating through a series of hallways adorned with traditional artwork, she finally led me to a room.
With that, she took her leave, and we all bowed deeply in respect. A maid, graceful and efficient, ushered me inside. After navigating through a series of hallways adorned with traditional artwork, she finally led me to a room.
“Y/N-ssi, this is Na-euri's room, and from today onward, it will be yours as well. The young master will join you later. Please take some time to rest, and I shall return shortly with a new handbook for you.”
Stepping inside, my senses taking in the surroundings; the room was expansive, nearly the size of my modest home. Expansive windows filtered soft sunlight, illuminating elegantly carved furniture and intricate tapestries that adorned the walls.
The handmaid closed the door behind her, leaving me in this unfamiliar space, engulfed in silence and my swirling thoughts.
***
The new hanbok draped elegantly over my frame, adorned in soft pastel hues that seemed to mirror the gentle glow of the moonlight filtering through the window.
The room felt intimate, with only the silvery glow of the moonlight streaming through the sheer curtains, casting gentle shadows that danced across the walls.
On any other occasion, I might have felt a flutter of excitement for the evening ahead, but tonight was different. A deep sadness settled in my chest, mingling with a gnawing sense of fear.
I found myself grappling with the unsettling reality that I barely knew my husband, Taehyung, and was uncertain of his expectations for our night together.
Silence had enveloped us since the ceremony, his lack of words amplifying the rhythm of my pounding heart. I hoped he might sense my trepidation and find a way to comfort me.
The echo of footsteps approached from outside, each sound intensifying my anxiety. My heart raced, and a tremor coursed through my hands as the door creaked open. Taehyung stepped into the dim light, his presence commanding yet enigmatic.
He moved with an effortless grace, shedding his tailored jacket and placing it carefully on the nearby chair. Dressed in a crisp three-piece suit that exuded elegance and sophistication, an unmistakable sign of his noble status, I couldn't help but feel a pang of inadequacy.
Through my experiences as a seamstress alongside my mother, I had become familiar with the social hierarchies that existed among the wealthy. I often heard upper-class women gossiping about the latest fashions that only the rich could afford.
As Taehyung approached the bed, my grip on the soft fabric of my hanbok tightened, anxiety coursing through me. He sat down beside me, the mattress shifting slightly under his weight.
His long fingers, both strong and elegant, enveloped my hand with a gentle caress, sending a shiver up my spine.
Taehyung's long, elegant fingers enveloped my hand with a surprising warmth, a stark contrast to the chill that gripped my heart.
His deep, resonant voice broke the silence, flowing over me like a soothing balm as he began to speak and I felt a mixture of anticipation and trepidation as I awaited his words.
“Y/N, you don’t need to feel so fearful.” He reassured gently, his voice wrapped in warmth. “You are my wife now, and I promise to do everything in my power to ensure you are well cared for.” I bit my lip, feeling my heart thud against my chest like a drum echoing in the silence.
“Don’t worry, I won’t push you to do anything until you’re ready. It’s been a long day for you; you should rest. Eomeoni may seem strict, but I assure you, she has a soft heart and is a wonderfully caring mother.”
His thumb brushed against my chin, tenderly coaxing my lip free from its anxious grasp. “Oh, that poor lip,” he murmured softly.
“Don’t be so hard on yourself. What happened wasn’t your fault. The only person who should feel remorse is Dae-hyun.” An angry tear slid down my cheek unbidden.
“Taehyung-ssi, please, do not mention his name in my presence again. He means nothing to me now.”
At that moment, I took his hand in mine, feeling the warmth of his skin against my smaller palm.
“I promise, Taehyung-ssi, that I will do my best to make this marriage work. I owe you so much; you saved me from the harsh judgment of others and from the cruelty of that vile man, Han Jun-su. Thank you, truly. Words cannot fully express my gratitude.”
Emotion bubbled within me, and tears blurred my vision, but Taehyung simply chuckled softly, pulling me into a warm embrace.
“You don’t have to worry about anything, Y/N!” He whispered, resting his chin atop my head. “And for the sake of our bond, please call me simply Taehyung. There shouldn’t be any formalities between a husband and wife.”
As I nestled against him, a smile broke through my tears, and I nodded, feeling an ember of hope spark within me for the first time in a long while.
***
Two months had passed in what felt like a serene blink of an eye, and in that time, Taehyung had morphed into the epitome of a devoted husband, thoughtful, gentle, and always respectful.
He treated me with unwavering respect, never making me feel uncomfortable in any way. Each day, I found myself contemplating how to embrace our marriage to its fullest potential.
After our midday meal, Taehyung would take his father, whom I affectionately called Abeonim, for a leisurely stroll through the expansive garden that lay just beyond the back of the house.
The garden was a picturesque retreat, where vibrant blooms flourished amidst meticulously trimmed hedges, each pathway inviting exploration.
A few years back, Father-in-law had fallen ill, suffering a stroke that left him paralyzed. This unfortunate event forged a strong bond between them, deepening Taehyung's protective instincts. Abeonim was never without company, either Eomeonim, my mother-in-law, or a dedicated servant was always close at hand, ensuring he felt supported and cared for.
Today, my gaze drifted out of the window, and I found myself enchanted by the vision of father and son comfortably seated near the lush rose bushes, their colors blooming vibrantly under the warm sun.
Taehyung was gently spoon-feeding Abeonim a creamy rice pudding, his movements tender and attentive. Every few moments, he would pause to wipe any remnants from his father’s mouth, a soft smile lighting up his face.
The sight filled my heart with warmth; his calm and collected demeanor stood in sharp contrast to so many others in the world. I silently prayed to God to preserve this beautiful aspect of his character.
Just then, my name pierced the air, summoning me to attend to my own duties, which were of great importance to Eomeonim.
Suddenly, a furious scream shattered the tranquility around me.
"YOU FUCKING LOW LIFE! HOW DARE YOU TOUCH ME WITH YOUR FILTHY HANDS!"
The shriek echoed from the back of the house, where the garden lay. Leaving everything I was attending to in a hurried rush, I dashed toward the source of the chaos, my heart racing with concern.
Eomeonim tried to calm me down, but I could hear Taehyung's angry screams cutting through the air. A part of me felt a chill of apprehension, fearful that he might have been hurt, while another part of me was simply taken aback. I had never witnessed Taehyung in such a state, his fury seemed foreign, like a tempest unleashed.
When I finally made my way to the back of the house, the sight that greeted me was striking: Taehyung stood soaked, rivulets of water cascading down his form, while a servant knelt before him, desperation written across his face, tears streaming down like a broken dam.
“Na-euri, please show mercy! I slipped and lost control of the jug. It wasn’t my intention to disrespect you; please, forgive me!” He sobbed, his hands wringing together in a futile attempt to convey his remorse.
Taehyung’s back was turned to me, and I couldn’t decipher the turmoil churning within him. My heart ached for the poor man, hoping he wouldn’t face a dire punishment for an accident.
“Sorry? Do you even know what day it is? I have a meeting with a high-ranking official, and now I have to waste precious time changing clothes again! You lowlife bastard...” His voice, sharp and unforgiving, cut through the air like a knife.
“Taehyung!” Eomeonim's authoritative voice broke through like a thunderclap. He turned quickly, the anger in his expression faltering as he caught sight of me.
His eyes widened, reflecting a moment of realization and something sinister. “That is no way to speak to someone, and you shouldn’t use such language in front of your Appa and your wife.”
Maybe it was the power of his mother’s admonishment or the fear that must have been evident on my face that quelled the storm within him, although flecks of fury still shimmered in his gaze like embers.
My mouth opened to speak, to mend the tension hanging heavy between us, but no words came forth. As he stepped closer, I instinctively recoiled, a surge of uncertainty rushing through me like icy water.
Taehyung met my gaze, his jaw clenched tight, an unspoken battle raging behind his eyes. Without uttering another word, he turned sharply and walked away, leaving an indelible silence in his wake, thick with unresolved emotions.
Eomeonim, with her piercing gaze and an air of urgency, instructed the caretaker to escort Abeonim inside, her worry evident as she observed the distress etched on his face.
I turned hesitantly toward our room, caught in a war of emotions. The mere thought of being alone with my husband churned a bitter dread in my stomach, a feeling I couldn't quite shake.
“You should learn to read him better; it will serve you well in the future.” She advised, her voice steady yet laced with a hint of concern. The intensity in her eyes mirrored the same look she had given me on our initial meeting, a blend of wisdom and warning.
“I don’t understand, Eomeonim.” I replied, my voice barely above a whisper.
“Time will teach you, but keep this in mind. My son remembers everything, and forgiveness is not in his nature.” She urged, stepping closer until she was inches away from me.
Taking my hand in hers, her grip was firm yet reassuring, but I could feel the tremor of her worry lingering in the air.
“He has always been fervent about the things he loves. He loves you, and in return, he will offer you the world, but be wary, never provoke his wrath.”
In that moment, my breath caught in my throat, and the rapid beating of my heart reverberated in my ears, drowning out all else. I opened my mouth to voice my questions, to seek more clarity, but the words faltered as fear constricted my thoughts.
Eomeonim's eyes flickered past mine, a glimmer of panic evident in her expression. In an instant, she released my hand and hurried away from the garden, leaving me isolated with my swirling thoughts.
Just then, I glanced back and caught sight of Taehyung. He was leaning casually against the window frame, his posture relaxed yet somehow imposing.
His eyes were fixed on me with an intensity that sent shivers down my spine, and a smirk curled on his lips, one that was unfamiliar, even unsettling.
Slowly, almost deliberately, he pushed himself off the window and slid it closed, shutting me off from the outside world and plunging me deeper into a silence that felt foreboding.
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Act Two – When the Curtain Bleeds
