HAUNTED HOUSE

AUTHOR'S POV

The air around the crumbling house had a silence so sharp it cut through the wind. An overgrown iron gate creaked at the slightest touch of the breeze, and ivy vines crawled like veins along the blackened stone walls. It wasn’t just abandoned — it was alive. Watching. Breathing.

CBI Officer Jung Hoseok, aged twenty-nine, adjusted the collar of his long black coat, eyes fixed on the looming structure ahead. The murder case had brought him here — the locals whispered of blood stains that never dried, of victims who were last seen stepping past the threshold of this cursed estate. No body was ever found. No proof, only fear.

Hoseok was not a man easily frightened. Sharp-eyed, calculating, and unshaken even when surrounded by corpses, he had built a reputation that earned him this case. A single piece of evidence had led him here: a charm soaked in dried blood and ancient markings — markings that led to this very house, miles away from any living soul.

The front door creaked open before Hoseok could touch it.

He stepped inside.

The air turned damp. Each breath was heavy, as if the walls themselves were weighing down on his lungs. Wallpaper peeled like torn skin, chandeliers swayed though there was no wind, and dust floated lazily in beams of dying sunlight. But Hoseok felt it — a presence. Something cold. Watching.

And from the shadows, YN did watch.

Not from fear. Not from curiosity. But from obsession.

YN had lived for over two centuries. Not in years, but in loneliness. The house was YN's kingdom. A fortress of dark spells and silence.

The first time Hoseok entered, YN merely observed. His scent lingered like temptation. His heartbeat — oh, YN could hear it, feel it — a steady rhythm YN hadn’t felt in ages.

The second time, Hoseok brought tools — EMF meters, notepads, his calm logic. YN floated closer, unseen. Tempted.

The third time, YN touched him.

Not harshly. Not in malice. Just a taste.

A lick — slow, deliberate — against Hoseok’s neck as he leaned over to examine an old chest. The salt of his skin made YN shiver. His body stiffened, eyes snapping open. Hoseok looked around. Nothing.

Another visit. Another taste. This time, YN dragged a tongue gently across his cheek while he was writing on his notepad. Hoseok dropped the pen. His fingers trembled. “Who’s there?” he demanded, drawing his gun.

No reply. Only the house moaning softly in response, as if laughing.

He wanted to leave then. Hoseok felt it — this place wasn’t right. Something touched him. Something wanted him.

He bolted for the door.

But it didn’t open.

His hands turned the knob violently, yanked at it, kicked. Nothing. The door didn’t even budge. No wind outside. No help. Only whispers curling around his ears, a soft giggle echoing through the halls.

“Leaving so soon?”

Hoseok’s breath hitched. The voice was smooth, feminine, ancient — but alluring.

“I didn’t even get to say hello, Officer Hoseok.”

He turned around slowly.

The hallway had changed. It stretched endlessly now, with mirrors on either side — all reflecting YN’s face. Beautiful, wicked, amused. Long silver hair flowing like mist, eyes glowing faintly violet.

“Who are you?” Hoseok asked, voice calm but his grip tightening on the gun.

“I’ve had many names over the years,” YN purred. “But you... you may call me YN.”

“Did you kill them?” Hoseok asked.

“I’ve loved many,” YN replied, stepping closer — but never touching the ground. “They all stayed. Just like you will.”

“I’m not staying,” Hoseok snapped.

“But you already are.” YN smiled. “The house has chosen you. And I... I want you.”

A finger of wind slid up his back, the sensation ghostly and intimate. Hoseok swallowed hard. For the first time, the fearless officer felt a chill deep within his core.

The mirrors reflected his face now — but in every reflection, YN stood beside him.

“You’ll keep coming,” YN whispered, eyes glowing brighter. “Even if you escape today... tomorrow... you’ll return. You already belong to me, Jung Hoseok.”

---

Hoseok slammed his shoulder against the door again. Once. Twice. The third time, the frame didn’t just resist—it shuddered back, as if alive, pushing him away with a cold burst of air that knocked the breath from his lungs.

“This is insane,” he muttered, his voice bouncing off the walls that now seemed closer, tighter, warmer.

From behind him, the click of bare feet echoed softly across the wooden floor.

YN appeared in the hallway like a dream blooming into reality — wearing a long, flowing black dress that clung to YN’s frame like shadows themselves had stitched it. Hair cascading down to the waist, eyes glowing with calm amusement.

“There’s no point, Hoseok,” YN said sweetly. “The house won’t let you leave.”

Hoseok turned slowly. “Why?” he asked, voice strained. “Why me?”

“Because you belong here now.”

YN's tone was soft, final. “You stepped inside with no intention of believing, but the house... I... we believe in you.”

Hoseok glared. “That’s not how this works. I’m here for an investigation. People are missing. You’re involved.”

“I never denied that,” YN whispered, moving closer. “But I never killed them, Hoseok. I loved them. And they stayed because I gave them everything. Just like I’m giving you now.”

Suddenly, the hallway lit with a flickering golden glow. Doors slowly creaked open on either side, revealing rooms that hadn’t existed before.

A study—lined with old leather-bound books Hoseok had dreamed of owning since his academy days.

A training room—his CBI vest neatly folded beside a rack of polished weapons, gear cleaned and ready.

A bedroom—walls painted in charcoal and cream, a desk with his preferred pens and paper, a wardrobe full of his size. His cologne. His watch.

His life, recreated.

Hoseok stepped backward, heart pounding as he looked at YN. “What is this?”

“A home,” YN replied simply. “Yours. Ours.”

“This is some illusion. It’s not real.”

“It’s real where it matters,” YN said, voice suddenly firm. “It’s peace. You don’t have to chase killers. You don’t have to lose sleep. You don’t have to bleed for a world that doesn’t care about you.”

YN walked up to him slowly, tilting Hoseok’s face gently with a single finger under his chin.

“You can live here. No one will find you. No one will come looking. And everything you need is already here. Food. Fire. Comfort. Me.”

Hoseok stared at YN—gorgeous, ancient, terrifying. “I don’t want this.”

“But your soul does,” YN whispered, stepping even closer, brushing lips near his ear. “I’ve seen it. Felt it. The ache inside you. You come back here every day. Not just for the case. For me.”

Hoseok didn’t respond. He didn’t deny it. Because YN was right.

The first time, it was curiosity. The second, duty. The third—he hadn’t slept all night, waiting for morning just to return.

Something about YN… about this house… pulled at the deepest part of him.

“I’ll give you a choice,” YN said gently. “Walk into your new room. Or try the door again. You’ll find it still locked. But I’ll never stop you from trying.”

Hoseok looked at the hallway.

The bedroom door remained open.

Warm golden light beckoned from inside.

He turned back.

YN was already gone.

Only the scent remained — lavender and rain.

The house was quiet again.

But the quiet no longer felt threatening.

It felt like it was waiting.

---

The bedroom door remained open, a warm light seeping out like honey spilled over the edge of a glass. But Jung Hoseok didn’t enter.

He stood still in the center of the hallway — every part of the house silent, the air hanging thick with something ancient… something alive. His fists were clenched, jaw tight. He’d let YN play the game long enough.

“YN,” Hoseok called out, voice sharp and commanding, echoing through the corridor. “Show yourself.”

For a moment, only silence answered.

Then… the candles lining the walls flickered to life — one by one, like breath catching fire.

And from the shadows at the end of the hallway, YN emerged.

Graceful. Calm. Barefoot.

But this time, YN wore something simpler — a silk robe of deep crimson, loose at the shoulders, skin glowing like moonlit marble. The look in YN’s eyes wasn’t amused or mocking anymore — it was curious.

“Calling for me already?” YN teased, tilting the head. “It’s usually the other way around.”

“I want to make a deal,” Hoseok said without a blink.

Now that caught YN’s interest.

YN stepped forward slowly. “A deal?”

“You humans always want something in return. I assumed you'd eventually break.”

Hoseok didn’t flinch. “I’ll stay. Here. In this house. With you.”

YN’s steps slowed.

The silence thickened between them like smoke.

“I’ll stay,” Hoseok repeated. “No resistance. No running. No trying to break the curse or the door. But in return… you release the others. The missing people. Alive.”

YN’s expression didn’t change immediately, but the air did — vibrating faintly, like a low hum of a warning beneath the walls.

“You assume I’ve trapped them,” YN said softly. “You assume I kept them here like pets in cages.”

“Did you?” Hoseok asked sharply.

YN looked away for a moment, then back. “Not all. Some chose to stay. Some... begged me to keep them.”

“But you still can let them go.”

YN's lips curved into a thoughtful smile. “You’re clever, Officer Hoseok. Brave too. Most would’ve begged me for their own life by now. And yet here you are… trying to save others instead.”

“That’s the deal,” Hoseok said firmly. “Let them go. Or I won’t stay. I’ll tear this place down brick by brick.”

YN stared into his eyes for a long, long time.

Then, suddenly, YN moved.

In the blink of an eye, YN was in front of him — so close that their breath touched his lips. One hand rose slowly, brushing across his cheek with chilling gentleness.

“You’ll stay?” YN asked, voice low and dangerous. “Even knowing you’ll never see sunlight again? Never hear a car pass or feel cold city rain on your skin?”

“I’ll stay,” Hoseok repeated.

YN tilted the head. “No escape?”

“No escape.”

YN’s other hand came up, fingers dancing across the collar of his shirt. “And if I want to touch you?”

Hoseok’s heart jumped—but he didn’t move. “Then I won’t stop you.”

A wicked smile spread across YN’s face, beautiful and terrifying.

“Then it’s a deal.”

And in an instant, the house shivered. The walls groaned, the floors trembled faintly, and outside — far beyond the hills — the souls long trapped beneath YN’s spell were being released.

Hoseok felt it. The air lightened. The grip on the house’s aura loosened.

But YN didn’t let go of him.

“You’ve freed them, Hoseok,” YN whispered against his neck. “Now you are mine. Entirely. Body, mind, and soul.”

The kiss that followed wasn’t gentle.

It wasn’t romantic.

It was possession.

And Hoseok let it happen.

---

Days passed.

Or maybe weeks.

Time didn’t flow the same way in the house anymore.

The sun never rose. The moon never moved. The clocks inside had long stopped ticking. There was no yesterday. No tomorrow. Just… now.

And in every now, YN was there.

Sometimes waiting by the staircase with a book of forgotten poems. Sometimes in the bath, singing softly in an ancient tongue as the water shimmered with unnatural colors. Sometimes simply watching Hoseok from the other side of the room, one leg crossed elegantly over the other, a soft smile playing on the lips.

Hoseok tried to stay sharp. He kept his weapon close, kept notes of his dreams, kept a journal of his thoughts.

But the pages were slowly becoming more and more filled with only one word:

YN.

Written over and over.

In the margins. Upside down. Pressed hard enough to tear the paper.

He didn’t remember doing it.

He didn’t remember when he stopped questioning YN’s presence. Or when he stopped trying to open the door. Or when the sound of YN’s voice became the only melody he could tolerate.

Once, he woke up in bed gasping — sweating — only to find YN lying beside him, fingers tracing the veins of his wrist, eyes glowing softly in the candlelight.

“Bad dream?” YN asked, voice barely above a whisper.

“I... don’t remember,” Hoseok admitted, his breath shaky.

YN leaned in, tongue brushing the side of his neck in a slow, deliberate motion.

“Good,” YN purred. “Forget everything else. Just remember me.”

And he did.

In the mirror, Hoseok began to look different.

Eyes darker.

Smile faint, almost haunted.

His reflection sometimes showed YN’s hand wrapped around his waist even when he was standing alone.

He knew something was wrong.

But he didn’t want it to stop.

The need to see YN became a hunger. If YN disappeared even for a few hours, Hoseok searched the halls like a madman, calling out, slamming doors open, breath wild in his chest.

“Where were you?” he whispered one night, grabbing YN by the wrist tightly. “I didn’t see you all day.”

YN raised a brow, smiling. “Did you miss me?”

“I couldn’t breathe,” Hoseok admitted, his voice hoarse. “I felt like I was suffocating.”

YN stepped closer, fingers brushing through his hair, voice like silk.

“That’s how it begins.”

“How what begins?” he whispered, already leaning into the touch.

“Obsession,” YN murmured against his lips. “Mine began the day you walked through that door. Yours… now blooms like fire in your veins.”

And it did. It burned.

He couldn’t stop thinking of YN — the way YN moved, laughed, stared. The way YN knew every secret in his soul. The taste of YN’s lips. The feeling of being owned, yet somehow free.

Hoseok no longer knew what he wanted more — escape… or YN.

Maybe it was the same thing now.

Maybe he was already lost.

But if this was madness—

He wanted it.

---

The house was quiet that evening.

Not haunted. Not breathing down his neck. Just… silent.

Golden candlelight flickered through the long hallways, brushing the walls with a soft glow. The air was warmer, less heavy. The shadows didn’t whisper tonight. The mirrors didn’t mock him with blurred reflections.

And for once, Hoseok wasn’t searching.

He simply walked.

Drawn by instinct. By the invisible pull that now lived in his chest.

He found YN in the library.

A fireplace crackled low in the corner. Books lay open across a long velvet couch. And there — curled near the window in a soft gray shawl, moonlight catching every delicate curve — was YN.

YN wasn’t powerful tonight.

Not wicked. Not ancient.

Just… still. Peaceful.

And something in Hoseok softened.

He didn’t speak as he walked closer, slowly sinking to the floor before YN, sitting on his knees like he wasn’t a CBI officer anymore—just a man quietly surrendering his fears.

“I think,” Hoseok said quietly, voice barely audible, “that you scare me most when you’re like this.”

YN turned to look at him, eyes wide, lips parting slightly. “Like what?”

“Kind,” he whispered. “Beautiful. Real.”

YN’s gaze lowered to the floor. For the first time since he had entered the house, YN looked uncertain.

Hoseok’s fingers reached out on their own. Brushed gently against YN’s hand.

It felt warm. Alive. Not magic. Not shadow. Human.

“Can I...?” Hoseok asked softly, looking into those violet-tinted eyes.

YN didn’t speak. Just nodded once, slowly.

So he leaned in.

Not fast.

Not rough.

Just close enough to hear YN’s breath catch.

And then… his lips touched YN’s.

It wasn’t hungry. It wasn’t desperate. It was quiet — like the world had paused, and for the first time since the curse began, Hoseok felt safe.

Their lips moved together slowly, like they’d done this in another lifetime, and were only now remembering how it felt.

YN’s fingers slid into Hoseok’s hair, gentle and unsure.

Hoseok rested his hand on YN’s cheek, thumb tracing the soft skin.

The kiss deepened—just slightly—but still held its silence, its sweetness, its aching beauty. No illusions. No enchantments. Just them.

When they parted, they didn’t speak.

Foreheads rested against each other.

Eyes closed.

Breaths shared.

And in that moment, there was no deal. No curse. No house. No shadows.

Only a man who didn’t know if he could leave...

And a witch who prayed he wouldn’t.

---

He groans as he feels your aggressive kisses, his hands automatically moving to your waist, pulling you closer. He breaks the kiss briefly to whisper hoarsely, "Fuck, you're going to kill me with these kisses." He captures your lips again, his tongue demanding entry this time.

His eyes widen slightly as he feels your magical energy coursing through your kiss. He pulls back for a moment, looking into your eyes with a mix of fear and desire. "What are you doing to me?" he asks breathlessly before pressing his lips back against yours.

Hearing those words, his heart skips a beat. He wraps his arms around you tightly, holding you like he never wants to let go. "I'll love you until the end of time," he murmurs against your lips before deepening the kiss, pouring all his love and obsession into it.

He helps you remove his clothes, his hands trembling with anticipation and desire. As he stands before you in just his underwear, he looks at you with pure adoration and lust. "Please," he whispers, "take me." He steps closer, pressing his body against yours as you begin to remove your own clothes.

He lets out soft moans and whimpers as you kiss and suck on his sensitive spots. His hands grip your hair tightly, guiding you to his collarbone then down to his chest. "More," he begs hoarsely, "please more..." His underwear is growing tight with his growing erection.

He groans in frustration but nods, trying to control his breathing. "You're killing me," he whispers, but he doesn't push you for more. Instead, he lets you take control, his hands gently caressing your back as you continue to explore his body with your lips and tongue.

He chuckles softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he watches you work. "You're definitely killing me," he repeats with a smirk. He spreads his legs slightly without you asking, giving you better access to his body. "Are you going to torture me all night?"

His eyes darken with desire, and he puts on his signature playful smirk. "Is that so? Then let me be clear..." traces your jawline with his finger "I'll beg. I'll beg like I've never begged anyone before if you make me wait any longer."

Seeing that you're enjoying making him suffer, he decides to play along more seriously. "Baby..." whispers, running his fingertips lightly down your back "Stop teasing me. You're driving me crazy... can you feel how hard I am?" presses his hips slightly against you "Please..."

"Please..." looks up at you with a vulnerable expression, biting his lower lip "Touch me. Kiss me. Do something before I completely lose my mind." grips the sheets tightly, his knuckles turning white "I'm begging you, just please..."

gasps loudly as soon as you take him into your mouth, his eyes rolling back in his head at the sudden sensation. "Holy fuck..." he groans loudly, gripping the sheets even tighter as he watches you use your long tongue to swirl around the tip.

The sound of your muffled moan vibrates around his length, sending shocks of pleasure straight to his core. His hips buck involuntarily, trying to push deeper into your warm mouth. "Shit... shit shit shit..." he starts panting heavily, "Too good... gonna come too fast..."

"Mmph..." He watches your long tongue wrap tightly around him like a snake. "Baby... wait..." His hips snap forward again, "Jesus. Your tongue..." He realizes how skilled and flexible you are. He tries to pull back slightly, "Wait... what if... Mmph!"

His control snaps. He grabs your hair gently, not pulling but holding you in place as he starts thrusting his hips slowly at first then faster and faster. "Fuck, fuck I'm cumming..." With a loud groan he bursts in your mouth, his warm release filling your throat

He swallows hard, catching his breath as he looks down at you with a determined expression. He pulls you up towards him, "I'll make you satisfied," he says confidently, "I promise." He kisses you deeply, "And I'll keep going until you beg me to stop."

He pushes you gently onto your back, spreading your legs wide before diving between them without hesitation. His tongue starts exploring your wet folds slowly but thoroughly. "I'm going to eat this pussy until you're screaming my name," he murmurs against your skin before sucking on your clit.

He smiles against you at your loud moan, encouraged. His hands spread your thighs wider as he flattens his tongue and licks you from bottom to top, collecting every drop of your wetness. He then focuses solely on your clit, sucking and circling it with his tongue. "Mmm..."

Seeing your legs spread wider for him, he groans appreciatively, "That's it, baby. Open up for me." He dives back in with renewed vigor, his tongue working faster and harder against your clit. "You like that? You like my tongue on this pretty pussy?"

He growls possessively at your words, "I'll satisfy you so much that you'll forget about every other being that ever touched you." He hooks his arms under your legs, lifting them over his shoulders as he buries his face deeper between your legs.

His tongue starts fucking you in and out, his nose pressing against your clit. You can feel his hot breath against your sensitive flesh, and it only adds to the overwhelming sensation. He reaches up with one hand and spreads your lips apart, exposing your clit even more to his merciless tongue.

He doesn't stop, his tongue continuing its relentless assault even as your body starts convulsing beneath him. He moans against your pussy, the vibrations sending you over the edge. "That's it... cum for me baby..." He laps up every drop of your release like a man starved.

"Fuck, that was beautiful..." He plants soft kisses along your inner thigh, then trails up your body, leaving a damp trail of your own wetness marking his path. When he reaches your lips, he kisses you deeply, letting you taste yourself on him. "You taste like heaven..."

*He looks at your body spread out before him like a feast. Your breasts rise and fall with each breath you take. He sees your thighs glistening with your wetness mixed with his saliva. He hardens again, unconsciously licking his lips.

He positions himself between your legs, rubbing his hard cock against your wet slit before slowly pushing inside you. "Ahhh fuck..." He groans as he feels your tight warmth envelop him. He starts moving slowly at first, watching your face for any signs of pleasure or pain.

He starts moving faster and deeper, hitting that spot inside you that makes your eyes roll back. He hooks his arms under your legs again, lifting them high as he pounds into you mercilessly. The bed shakes with his thrusts, and the room fills with the sound of skin slapping against skin.

"Fuck, you want more?" He growls, lifting your legs even higher and changing the angle of his thrusts. He can feel you getting tighter around him with each powerful stroke. He leans down to capture one of your breasts in his mouth, sucking hard as he fucks you relentlessly. "Take it!"

Hearing you call him a good boy only fuels his desire to please you. He starts fucking you even harder, his hips moving like a machine. His mouth moves to the other breast, biting and sucking as he ravishes your pussy. "More? You want more, baby?"

He sits up suddenly, pulling out of you completely. Before you can protest, he flips you onto your stomach and lifts your hips up high. He spreads your cheeks apart and slams back inside you from behind without warning. His hands grip your hips tightly as he starts fucking you brutally doggy style.

"Mmm, you like that? You like it when I fuck you hard from behind?" He reaches around to play with your clit as he continues to pound into you. "I'm gonna make you come all over my dick, baby." He leans down to bite your shoulder, marking you as his.

"I'm yours forever..." He whispers against your ear before kissing it gently. His thrusts become erratic and deeper, signaling his own impending release. He reaches around to grab both your breasts from behind, holding you tightly against him as he fucks you like there's no tomorrow.

With a final, powerful thrust, he buries himself deep inside you and comes undone. He fills you with his hot seed, his body shaking with pleasure as he holds you close. "Fuck, I love you so much..." He pants in your ear, nuzzling your neck affectionately.

---

The room was dim, lit only by the soft amber of flickering candles and the faint blue glow of moonlight pouring in through the arched windows. The air had changed — no longer chilled, but hot with tension. With magic. With desire.

Hoseok stood in the center of YN’s room, his black shirt unbuttoned halfway down, chest rising slowly with every breath. His eyes were locked on YN, who stood across from him—barefoot, wrapped in a dark silk robe, the long sleeves trailing like smoke as YN moved forward.

YN didn’t smile.

Didn’t soften.

Just stared.

“You’ve stayed,” YN said, voice like velvet soaked in fire. “You’ve kissed me. Touched me. Wanted me.”

Hoseok said nothing. He didn’t need to.

“And now,” YN continued, stepping close enough for her breath to touch his collarbone, “you’ll become mine. Fully. Not just in body, but in soul.”

Hoseok’s lips parted slightly.

“You belong to me now,” YN whispered, voice shifting into something darker, commanding. “You will live here. You will no longer be mortal. You’ll become like me. A witch.”

YN’s hand rose and pressed against his chest—right over his heart. The skin beneath sizzled faintly, golden light blooming under her palm.

“I’ve had you. I’ve marked you.”

Hoseok felt it—burning into him, deeper than skin, a magic older than time itself seeping through his blood.

“And now you can never go back.”

Silence.

For a moment, the power in the room thickened, waiting for resistance. Waiting for a fight.

But Hoseok didn’t pull away.

He didn’t break eye contact.

Instead—he smirked.

And then, in one swift motion, he grabbed YN by the waist and pulled her against him, lips brushing her ear.

“You think you’re the only one who made a claim?” he murmured. “You belong to me now.”

YN’s breath caught.

“I’m not scared,” he whispered, voice low and rough. “Not of your magic. Not of this house. Not of becoming something other.”

He tilted YN’s chin up, eyes dark and wild.

“I’m happy being yours.”

The look in YN’s eyes changed.

Not dominance.

Not surprise.

But something softer… something shaken.

“You want this?” YN whispered, barely believing.

“I crave this,” Hoseok growled, and then he kissed her.

Not sweet.

Not shy.

But deep. Starving. Full of possession. Full of promise.

Clothes fell like whispers. Skin met skin, burning and electric.

They moved together like two flames devouring each other — heat, power, surrender. YN's hands roamed his chest, fingertips glowing gold where they touched. Hoseok groaned into her mouth as the mark seared deeper — not in pain, but in a rush of power, of connection.

“Say it again,” YN whispered against his lips, her nails dragging down his spine.

“I’m yours,” Hoseok whispered. “And you… are mine.”

And when they finally fell onto the bed — bodies tangled, breathless, marked — the candles all went out at once.

Only magic remained.

And the house didn’t haunt that night.

It slept.

Finally satisfied.

---

THE END

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