Rabbit in the hunterβs trap
βββββββββββββββββββββββββ
Gitae Kim x R.femele. ( Jakeβs friend )
βββββββββββββββββββββββββ
The First Time He Saw Herβ¦β¦β¦.
Itaewon's alley smelled of nicotine and wet concrete. Gitae Kim was with his back to the entrance, leaning against a wall, still with fresh blood on his knuckles. A boy lay unconscious at his feet, his teeth scattered on the asphalt.
But then, a delicate voice - too absurd for that environment - echoed timidly:
He looked over his shoulder.
A small girl, with a bunny backpack and absurdly large and gentle eyes, stared at him. The light of the pole made his eyelashes project long shadows on his cheeks.
As if I hadn't just seen a monster bent over a corpse.
- Hm... did you see where Jake went? He had to pick me up after class...
His gaze stuck in her like a spear - from head to toe, as if trying to decipher what exactly she was.
That being... smiling like that... with the smell of blood in the air?
He replied, hoarse voice, dragged:
- Are you... from school?
- Ahem. - She nodded, sweet. - Are you friends with Jake too?
The words crossed Gitae like a rusty saw.
Days later, she saw him again.
I just looked at her - fixedly - with that expression that was not hatred or desire.
- Where did he show up? - he asked, worried, after learning that Y/N saw Gitae more than once.
- Near the school, I think... - she replied, moving the sleeve of her coat. - But he didn't do anything to me.
Jake shut up. His face hardened.
Because he knew who Gitae was.
I knew what he was capable of.
And I knew that if Gitae had looked at her... it wasn't a coincidence.
Since then, he couldn't sleep.
I saw her face in all the lights.
I remembered her soft voice in the middle of shootings.
She started telling people to watch who was talking to her.
He made one of the henchmen follow Jake discreetly, thinking he wanted to "take her out of him".
Gitae didn't know how to love.
And the rabbit... now it was his.
βββββββββββββββββββββββββ
In the week of the final exams, she got off the bus with the books tight against her chest.
The school gate was full.
Across the street, leaning against a black car, with his hands in his pockets and staring only at her.
His blouse was dirty with something dark. Maybe blood. Maybe grease. But no one dared to approach.
He raised a cigarette on his lips. It Ignted.
That smile said: "You belong to me."
But he didn't run away either.
The only thing he thought was:
"Why does he always show up when I'm weaker?"
That night, she dreamed that she was running in a high field, bare feet, the cold wind.
And behind her, the heavy steps of something I didn't see - but knew what it was.
As if she was sure that, sooner or later, she would stop.
And with his fingertip, he drew a line from her chin to her lap.
Everything about you seems fragile.
But do you know what's curious?
Nothing fragile survives in this world.
He pulled her against himself.
Even if you don't want to.
ββββββββββββββββββββββββ
She finished high school and decided to go to college abroad. This generates in him panic disguised as fury, as if her departure was a personal betrayal -
It was in a muffled late afternoon, with the sky in a dirty gray tone, that one of his men entered the room.
- The girl... the Y/N... She... is leaving. Go study abroad.
The sound of the TV continued in the background, any program, unimportant.
- She... finished high school and is going to study abroad. Partial scholarship. In another country. You're arranging the documents.
Gitae had broken the TV control in his hand.
Breathing came out slowly, through the nose.
As if each muscle was resisting.
- She was going to abandon me... without saying anything?
He saw her across the street, entering the stationery store with a folder of documents under her arm.
He wore a wide shirt and worn sneakers.
No big deal. But for him, it was unbearable.
Because now she smiled without fear.
Without looking to the sides.
Without thinking she was being watched.
- You seem too happy, bunny.
- Do you think you can leave without asking my permission?
Two days later, she found a gift left at the gate of the house.
A beautiful package, with black satin ribbon.
β’ A bunny plush... with a metal collar around his neck.
β’ A passport... with the visa page torn in half.
β’ And a note, with firm calligraphy:
"You're not going anywhere.
The floor disappeared under her feet.
That morning, her cell phone rang.
She answered with a trembling voice.
- Weren't you going to tell me?
- Are you running away, bunny?
- I never said anything, Gitae...
Then, he let out a weak, almost childish laugh.
- Ah... so I was the one who imagined everything?
But now you'll have to stay.
βββββββββββββββββββββββββ
You tried. He tried to escape. Really.
But he was always there - in the dark corners, in the shadows, in the smoke of the extinguished cigarette, in the silence of the corridors where you walked.
Gitae wouldn't let you escape. Never.
His eyes were like invisible blades that pierced the night, cutting the air, opening paths where only he could go.
He had ears everywhere - loyal henchmen who kept him informed of his every step, every contact, every breath.
You thought you could hide, but it was like trying to escape death itself.
At dawn when he tried to disappear once again, he found the door to his apartment ajar.
Before you could react, a strong hand grabbed your wrist, pulling you inside.
The strong smell of sweat, dried blood and gunpowder filled the air.
His gaze - cruel, hungry, almost animal - fixed every inch of him.
- Did you really think you could run away, bunny? - his voice was hoarse, whispering, but loaded with a threat that made the air freeze.
You tried to let go, but there was no strength against that grip.
He didn't need to use violence to show that he was in charge.
It was enough the firm touch, the burning look, the proximity that stole his breath.
His fingers slowly slid down your face, tracing the line of your jaw, as if you were the most precious and at the same time most fragile thing in the world.
A touch that burned, that held, that made the heart race.
He tilted his head, brushing his mouth against his neck, his hot breath, almost inaudible.
You felt the silent promise - he would be your torment and your sin.
- You're mine, and I'll prove it every time I look at you.
Gitae was neither subtle nor kind.
His passion was crude, intense - almost wild.
He tied you up gently, with handkerchiefs he found in his drawer, with a mixture of delicacy and firmness.
Every touch of yours was a dangerous mixture of pleasure and pain, control and abandonment.
When his lips stuck to yours, there was a burning fire that threatened to consume everything.
He commanded, and you surrendered, not because of weakness, but because of the inevitable attraction he aroused - an emotional and carnal hurricane that you couldn't resist.
But never forget: behind that sexual obsession, there was a predator.
Gitae was the hunter who was delighted to know that you were trying to escape - because this only increased his desire to capture you, mark you, possess you.
- The more you run away, the more I want.
And next time, bunny, will be the last.
His eyes shone in the dark - cold, intense, impossible to ignore.
But you really did it .....
You tried to run away again.
This time, further, faster.
He thought he could disappear in the anonymity of the city, in the shadows of the night, in faces he didn't know.
But he had eyes everywhere. Ears in every corner.
Your henchmen were your extension - shadows that crawled behind you, holding every step, every sigh.
The phone rang at three in the morning.
You answered, heart in your throat.
- Bunny... - his voice was a hoarse whisper, loaded with possession and promise. - Do you really think you can run? What can you leave me?
Because you knew. I knew I couldn't.
That night, he invaded his small apartment like a storm.
The door opened with contained violence.
He entered, eyes shining in the dark, body pulsating with a fierce energy.
Before you could retreat, your big hands grabbed you tightly, lifting your chin with possessive brutality.
- You're mine, did you hear? - he whispered, his voice low and threatening. - My prey, my territory.
He didn't ask for permission. He didn't seek consent.
It was rude, it was intense, it was animal.
His body pressed yours against the wall, his fingers tingling around your waist, holding you so tightly that your breath was stuck.
You felt small, unprotected, but also terrifyingly alive.
He spoke his name like a mantra, with a mixture of obsession and distorted affection.
- It's no use resisting. I'll have you. - he said in a thick voice, each word a command.
His touch was invasive, rude - but you couldn't deny the torrent of desire that rose inside you, mixed with fear, anger and a cruel confusion.
He dominated you not only with physical strength, but with the overwhelming weight of your mental control.
And then came the unexpected news.
He knew before you could even tell him.
There was no room for doubts or discussions.
He appeared at your door, eyes like embers, a dark smile slowly opening.
- My bunny will have his blood. - he said with an almost painful possessiveness. - No one else will take you away from me.
You were a marked territory, a guaranteed future.
He controlled you in every detail, from what you ate to who you could talk to.
Every step of his was watched, every whispered word was checked.
He owned you, and would do everything to keep you within his reach - even if it meant breaking every piece of you.
βββββββββββββββββββββββββ
You were lying on the couch, exhausted. The heavy sleep, the swollen feet, the loose sweater showing part of the belly - small, but already starting to take shape.
He didn't knock on the door.
As if that apartment was his.
As if everything in there was.
He closed the door slowly. He walked in silence.
He stood there, in the dark, his eyes fixed on you sleeping.
You seemed so calm, vulnerable... almost untouched.
His eyes slowly went down to the curve of his belly.
- You're beautiful like that. - he murmured in a low voice, almost as if he was praying.
He sat next to you, without making noise. His hand stretched out, big, firm, gently taking a strand of his misaligned hair.
- You don't even know what you're carrying, do you, bunny?
His fingers, calloused with fights and blood, lightly brushed the center of his womb, in an almost reverent affection. He stood there for long minutes, just playing... just looking.
You woke up the next morning with a thick envelope of money on top of the refrigerator. No ticket. No name. But you knew.
You tried to use it to buy healthy food, maternity clothes, maybe even a used crib.
But deep down, all you wanted... was your life.
And that's why he decided to look for a job - a flower shop, light shift, part-time.
You just wanted to feel like you were still someone. That you could do something for yourself.
- What the fuck did I hear about? - his voice on the phone was low, but boiling inside. - Where did you go?
You hesitated. He already knew.
- It was just... a four-hour shift. The doctor said I can...
- I don't care what the doctor said. - he growled. - You're not going to work while carrying my son. Never again.
But he had already hung up.
Hours later, the flower shop manager called, awkwardly, saying that unfortunately they could not continue with you. He couldn't explain the reason well.
You were a part of him now.
And while that child grew up inside you, your every gesture was a threat to his possession. Each of his decisions was interpreted as a direct insubordination.
He wasn't just obsessive.
And now you were his, permanently.
βββββββββββββββββββββββββ
It was raining hard that night.
Your cell phone didn't get a signal.
Or maybe it was already one more thing he cut.
You began to suspect when the building's caretaker, always friendly, avoided your gaze. As if you were afraid. As if you knew something.
You were sitting on the floor mattress. That old rented room barely had room to breathe, but it was yours. As miserable as it was, it was yours.
- I knocked, but you didn't answer. - his voice came low, calm, almost gentle. But there was no real kindness there. Only control disguised as tenderness.
He came in with an umbrella closed in his hand, as if it were a hidden weapon. He took off his wet coat and hung it carefully. Then... looked at you.
- You've grown up. - he said, his eyes intense. - You can already see the shape of our son... Or daughter. It doesn't matter. You'll have my blood. There will be everything I didn't have.
You didn't answer. His hand instinctively touched his belly, as if he wanted to protect his baby... from himself.
He approached slowly, kneeling before you.
- Do you know why I came? - he asked, raising his chin to look into your eyes. - Because I realized... that maybe I'm being too kind to you.
You felt your heart tighten.
- You still think you have a choice. - he brushed his fingers on his knee, climbing slowly. - But you don't have it. You've been a Kim since the first time I touched you. Since the first time you looked at me with that innocent scared rabbit face.
He smiled. But it was a crooked, hungry, predatory smile.
- What about this baby? You will be born in a golden cradle. There will be security. There will be education. You'll have everything. Because I'll guarantee that. Even if you don't want to. Because you, little one... - he leaned over, his voice in his ear - there's no more voice on this subject. You've already said too much when you tried to run away.
He held your face with one hand, with moderate force, forcing you to look into his eyes. The dark intensity that existed in them made you feel like you were looking into an endless hole.
- This world is not safe. But with me... you will survive. You'll live well. And this baby too. And, one day, you will thank me. You'll look at me and say thank you for keeping me alive. For not letting me do shit to our son's life.
- I'm the villain of your story, Y/n? Whatever. But the villain will take care of you better than anyone else would be able to.
And then, as if the gesture was the only natural thing in the world, he touched his lips to her womb. A slow kiss. Prolonged. Almost devotee.
You closed your eyes tightly. But I couldn't scream.
Because part of you understood that he was going to do what he said.
βββββββββββββββββββββββββ
The hospital was private, quiet, impeccably clean - a place chosen by him. Not even the real name you could use in the registration. Everything was done through his men. You only existed there as the mother of the heiress Kim.
Hours of pain, sweat and blood.
But when everything was over, the room plunged into an almost sacred silence.
You looked at her in your arms, the tears still in your eyes, while you felt a strange mixture of overwhelming love and absolute fear.
He wore a dark, expensive, perfectly aligned suit. The look was fixed, deep, heavy. He didn't look at you right away. Just for the little package in your arms. For the baby who slept peacefully, with no idea what awaited her.
He stopped next to the bed. He looked from above. He took a deep breath.
- She's... perfect. - the voice came out low, almost out of breath. As if he were seeing something sacred. As if she were a rare, precious, untouchable artifact.
You didn't answer. He just pressed the strongest daughter against his chest.
But he stretched out his hands.
He arched his eyebrow - and you gave in.
Gitae held her daughter as if she were taking a crown, not a newborn. His eyes analyzed every trace. The eyelashes. The little mouth. The chin. The nose.
He sat in the armchair next to the bed, still holding it, and for the first time you saw a kind of real tenderness on his face. A tenderness that gave you goosebumps. Because it didn't come from love.
Like a king looking at his only heiress.
Your cell phone vibrated on the nightstand. You stretched out your hand with difficulty. It was a message from the bank:
+300,000.00 USD deposited
He didn't even need to look at you. He just said:
- This should cover the first month.
You slowly turned your face to him, your heart racing.
He stared at his daughter with a corner smile.
- Let's start with a bigger apartment. Soon, a private babysitter. Private teachers will come in the second year. A controlled organic diet. Nothing industrialized. No external noise. And you... - he turned his eyes to you, cold again - will continue out of public view. Until she grows up. Until she understands who she is.
His voice was firm. Ruthless.
- She's not just any child. She's a Kim. My daughter.
He got up slowly. He deposited the baby again in his arms. But before letting go completely, he ran his hand through her hair as if he were marking territory.
And then, he looked at you.
- And you? - he said softly. - You'll learn to live with it. Because I'll give you everything. And all I want in return... is that you never try to run away again.
You looked at him with moist eyes, pressing the child against your chest like a shield.
The documents were already ready. A new passport. A new name. New identity.
Everything provided by him.
Mexico was hot, distant, and strategically chosen by Gitae. A place where he could hide you, protect you - or rather, arrest you - without drawing attention. Where no one would dare to look for you.
The mansion was on the outskirts of Tulum, surrounded by high walls, 24-hour surveillance, hidden cameras even in the palm trees. It was beautiful, like a dream exit, with fountains, gardens, sea view and an entire room designed just for your daughter.
But even paradise, in his hands, had bars.
You could walk barefoot through the cold marble corridors, wear the light dresses he chose for you, eat freshly picked fruits...
Gitae appeared out of nowhere. Always silent, always in control. And even when he wasn't in the house, you knew he saw everything.
With a low voice. Grave. Hot.
As if he were talking to something fragile, precious, his property.
- Look how beautiful you look today... - he said, while you held the baby in your lap, swinging lightly on the terrace hammock. He approached from behind, his icy fingers sliding down his exposed thighs. - So small... so soft... so mine.
You smelled him before the touch.
I felt the danger disguised as tenderness.
He never touched you violently again since the pregnancy.
But that didn't make things less suffocating.
There was something in the way he looked at you two that was scary.
As if he were keeping two treasures that the world couldn't touch.
Sometimes, at dawn, you saw him in the nursery, standing still, watching his daughter sleep. I didn't do anything. I was just... watching. For hours.
His cell phone was out of reach. The business of the world stood.
There, all that existed was her.
- You don't understand... - he said one night, with his head on your lap. - I tried to be someone better for both of you. But the world won't protect you. Only I can.
He kissed her empty belly, where his daughter had slept for months.
- You're my bunny. My quiet girl. And now... my daughter's mother. - he whispered against her skin. - I'll never let you go. Never again.
He said that while fitting into you without warning.
Because he knew that you would never run away with another child in your arms.
Because he needed to feel you full of him again.
βββββββββββββββββββββββββ
Gitae Kim develops a sick obsession with Y/N, a younger, delicate and innocent girl - looking like a helpless bunny. Initially a friend of her half-brother Jake, she draws Gitae's attention for her purity and vulnerability.
His obsession becomes dangerous, possessive, almost suffocating. He watches her, controls her, and does everything to keep her by his side - even against her will. When she becomes pregnant, Gitae surrounds her with even more power, treating her as a precious and untouchable possession.
βββββββββββββββββββββββββ
