#idk what this is i wrote it in twenty minutes
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"Hey, baby," Tommy's voice carries through the apartment, "have you seen my shirt?"
Buck's standing in Tommy's bedroom, pulling said shirt over his head and ready to reply that yes, he has in fact seen his shirt and no, Tommy can't have it because Buck's already wearing it, when he pauses. Baby. That's- that's new.
It's just a word. It shouldn't make Buck's heart speed up or fill his belly with far too many butterflies for it to count as healthy.
Baby.
He closes his eyes and lets the word, that tiny little four letter word, echoe in his head. The memory of Tommy's voice repeating it over and over again, until it eventually ends up in Buck's own mouth before falling out as nothing more than a soft whisper.
"Are you okay?"
Buck blinks his eyes open, mouth still open around the word, and when he is met with a half-naked Tommy who is looking at him with a bemused expression, he all but melts.
"You, uh, you called me baby." Buck offers, as if that's an answer to Tommy's question. Maybe it is. "You've never- you haven't called me that before."
Tommy's face softens at that, his eyes dropping down to Buck's chest before finding his eyes again, eyes sparkling. He steps closer, until he can reach out and grip Buck's waist, the warmth of his hands noticeable even through two layers of fabric. Buck's own hands find their way to Tommy's arms, slowly sliding up until they rest at the soft curve of his neck, thumbs barely brushing the underside of his jaw.
"Well, you are my baby," Tommy says then, matter of factly, gently pulling Buck closer. "Aren't you?"
"Y-yeah?" Buck swallows, eyes dropping down to Tommy's lips for a moment. "I- yeah, I-I am?"
"You are."
Tommy just... looks at him, eyes so incredibly fond that Buck can barely breathe with it, before leaning in to press a soft kiss onto Buck's lips. He doesn't protest too much or at all, actually, when Buck immediately deepens it. Eventually, though, Tommy pulls away, panting just enough for Buck to feel a bit proud in a I did that to him kind of way.
"I'm really your baby, huh."
"Very much so," Tommy hums, one hand leaving Buck's waist to over his belly, up his chest, and then down again. Buck wonders, for a moment, if they're going to be late for work, which- he wouldn't be opposed to that. But Tommy simply pinches the loose fabric of the sweater, pulls at it a little, and says, "you're a thief, too."
Buck opens his mouth to protest, but Tommy just gives him a look then, as if to say try me. A smile is tugging at the corner of his mouth, though, and his free hand gives Buck's waist a small squeeze.
"I mean," Buck starts, heart pounding in his chest. "What's yours is mine, right, babe?"
"Babe, huh?"
"Darling?" Buck tries, knows he probably looks like a fool from how big he's grinning. "Sugarbuns? Pookie? Hot stuff?"
Tommy kisses him then, and Buck lets himself get lost in it again. When one of his hands slips down from Tommy's neck, Tommy's quick to reach up and take hold of it, pressing it against his own chest. He presses another kiss onto Buck's lips, hot and searing, as if he's pouring his entire being into it. When he breaks away, he doesn't go far, his forehead resting against Buck's. They stand like that for a moment, breathing each other in.
"You're still a thief, though," Tommy says eventually, voice low and rough, as he taps his fingertip against the back of Buck's hand where it rests just above his heart, and Buck wonders of Tommy's still talking about the shirt when he whispers, "you can keep it."
#hello idk what this is also i wrote it in twenty minutes#so if you see a grammatical error no you didn't#anyways enjoy <3#evan buckley#tommy kinard#bucktommy#911 fic#bucktommy fic#nea writes
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Ironically Horny
Sung Jinwoo x Fem!Reader
Warning(s): SMUT, 18+, YK THE DRILL 🙄😠 (i hate writing but woowoo x reader/oc writers are not that many and it kills me), ugly writing i did not proofread anything, aphrodisiac, no plot just porn, belly bulge, lmk if I'm missing smth else! Thanks
A/N: guys, idk what i'm doing /srs, so please beware—I might be insane as I wrote this. I'M LOOKING AT YOU. This ain't canon ok? Also, [N. Name] means nickname!! Guys, pls comment....
"Hu… angh!" You clenched the bedsheets abrasively as you realized that indulging feeling kick in your lower belly again.
A bulge continuously vanished and reappeared with each thrust this bastard, Sung Jinwoo, gave you. With a numb mind, you looked at the headboard with your eyes remained moist with tears as the raven haired man ruin you completely with his cock.
He was big. A bit too big.
"Jin'oo, ah… hic," your head attempted to raise but failed and fell flat against the pillow. The sound of his grunting made you weak although you knew this sort of act wasn't romantic at all.
Jinwoo flipped your body, making you view his rock-hard and impressive abs—but he realized that it was completely useless as you clearly couldn't even see it properly as your mind had gone blank long ago because of his relentless pounding.
In the stillness of the night, his rough shoving echoed through your bedroom. Jinwoo watched you cry, you, who was always tough-looking.
Jinwoo traced his fingers along your neck and placed a hickey there. He did it once, twice, and before he knew it, he couldn't stop until he realized he finally came again for the nth time.
So, how did you guys end up like this? Well—
"What the—I-I'm poisoned?" Your displeasure was clear as Jinwoo looked at you, and it appeared that you were looking at your system albeit not visible in his eyes.
"What do you mean?"
"System said ordinary potions wouldn't work, not to mention, I'm no healer either."
"What?"
You contemplated the words written on the blue screen despite the multiple times you've analyzed it. When new words began to appear and soon you understood, your face went pale.
"[Name]?" Jinwoo had never seen you like this before. He felt a knot of worry twisting in his stomach. It was so unlike you to be this troubled.
"Jinwoo, please kill me."
"What???"
He saw your lifeless eyes, as if you failed to accept something too deep. "Kill me. Living is already humiliating enough."
"What's wrong with you? What did the system say, anyway?"
"I'd…" cheeks burning in mortification, you ended up crouching. "Oh, Lords, this is so fucking embarrassing. The hell." You whispered the last part.
You cursed like a mantara and Jinwoo watched as you slowly lost your mind.
"Just—" he almost sighed. "What does it say?"
"I… I have to…" The other player had never once witnessed you falter with your words nor look as if you wanted to disappear right this instant. "Sex… Do intimate shit. Oh…? …! Fuck, it also told me it's not poison, but an aphrodisiac!"
Jinwoo was speechless.
"... Where in the world am I gonna find a sex partner?"
That was a problem, until he offered himself.
He was just being… helpful.
Your body trembled. Letting out a strangled moan, your eyes began to be coated with tears as you recognized Jinwoo's hot spill inside of you beginning to form.
He was a quick learner, once he grasped how much touching your clit and hitting that sweet spot slightly above pleasured you, he didn't back down. No, not after he was told that possible complications might arise if he didn't help you sooner. Not to mention, there was a time limit. A time limit that he had to cum inside you (he was given 2 hours to spill his seed inside for at least 7 times, just what the fuck?) to cure whatever dilemma that monster had thrown at you. It was ridiculous.
Initially, he didn't think it'd work in one hundred and twenty minutes, but after he'd made you cum and squirt for the first time, God knew how much he wanted you right then and there.
One more to go. Jinwoo pulled you closer to his pelvis, not daring to pull his cock out. Sweat was all over the two of you, but he had no time to stop, for he only had 10 minutes left to finish this.
He unexpectedly stopped his plan momentarily when you whined. What? Had he lost track? Maybe you were starting to get uncomfortable since he'd been rough on you for almost two hours. He should stop—
"Jin'oo…" you sobbed softly. He swore he'd never seen anything so beautiful before. "'t hurts… Hurry… D-don't stop… Please."
He looked down at you like a predator and breathed heavily at the sight of you. He sat up, shoulders broad as he held your waist, his dick twitching inside you. Was he getting worked up? Fuck.
Ablush crept up to his face at your adorable begging, but he knew you were out of consciousness as we speak. If you keep nicely pleading him to fuck you, then he might not be able to stop.
He scrutinized your gorgeous body that he secured in his hold. Jinwoo tried to push his dick deeper to which you cried at—and seeing that bulge on your lower stomach made him slightly (so) proud. It was nice that he could touch something that could stand as a proof that he was inside you.
"You…" He leaned down and kissed your temple. You grabbed his cheek and caught his lips into a deep kiss. Jinwoo wasn't able to help himself but return the gesture with equal reason.
The raven haired man didn't pull away until he felt your breath running out and again, he blushed red as he gazed at your panting situation.
He ruined you in a good way.
"Let's finish this, all right?" He kissed your temple so sweetly. "I'm sorry, I have to go rougher since we only have a few minutes left, but I can't risk any future difficulty happening to you, [N. Name]."
You nodded eagerly, and before you knew it, you were being pounded into oblivion again.
#sung jin woo x reader#sung jinwoo x reader#smut#solo leveling x reader#solo leveling#idk what I'm doing ok?#sung jinwoo smut
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deathbed confessions (eddie munson x fem!reader one-shot)
summary: cold and flu season hits you hard but luckily you have your best friend eddie to take care of you. If the cold medicine makes you admit a few things... eddie sure isn't complaining.
contents: 18+, best friends to lovers, r is dramatically sick with a cold (talks about dying but it's just drama), fluff idk
a/n: guys i am so sick help me i had to lay on the bathroom floor after braving a shower because i thought i was gonna die (but also i wrote this so maybe im ok)
wc: 4.4k+
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
“Holy shit, did Halloween come early?” Eddie snickers from the door of your room.
All you can muster up is a low groan and that alone makes you feel like your head is on the brink of explosion.
“Jesus, you’re really sick, huh?” he says with the huff of a laugh.
You answer with another groan. Yes. You are 'really sick'.
“Can I do something to help?” he replies, the first hint of empathy appearing in his voice.
“Put me out—” you interrupt yourself with a sniffle followed by a phlegmy cough. “—out of my misery.”
You were supposed to be seeing some double feature with Eddie tonight but yesterday, right before bed, you felt the slightest of tickles in your throat. By morning you were the living dead with everything from your big toe to your forehead aching in one way or another. You called Eddie and before you could even mention that you were sick, he knew from your stuffed up voice.
No matter how many times you told him you’d be fine he was strangely insistent in checking on you at the very least. By the end of the call he’d quickly worn you down and you told him that he has the spare key and he can do whatever he wants but if he gets sick that's his fault— a little mean but arguing was the last thing you felt like doing.
From the time you hung up to now— which has only been a handful of hours, you’ve gotten substantially worse. Earth shatteringly worse. So terribly worse that the simple task of opening your eyes has been too much effort. Your whole body feels like it’s on fire, and your lungs are just begging for salvation. That’s why when Eddie called twenty minutes ago letting you know he was on his way you told him no. It would have been wise if he listened to you but instead he replied ‘too bad’ and abruptly hung up the phone.
Cut to twenty minutes later he was at your door, letting himself in. He was willingly walking into his very own death sentence. He clearly thought it was more of a joke than anything.
You hear Eddie’s tell-tale gait as he walks further into your room. You assume that he’s standing over your bed, maybe a hand on the back of his neck, maybe a hand on his hip. Mustering the efforts to confirm your suspicions would take too much of your very limited energy so you continuing laying in your bed, not doing as much as opening an eye.
You hear the ruffle of his hair and he definitely is rubbing the back of his neck as he gauges what to do.
“So…do you want, like, medicine then?” he asks.
“A gun,” you croak, earning a deep belly laugh from Eddie.
“At least your humour’s still intact, that’s good to know,” he says, sitting down on the edge of your bed.
You try to shuffle over to make room for him, but that effort alone makes you wince.
“Call an ambulance,” you whine, sniffling pathetically.
“Really?” he asks, a genuine nervousness creeping into his voice. You feel his hand tug at the blanket you’ve cocooned yourself in, revealing your face for him to see. If you were more cognizant maybe you’d care about Eddie seeing you like this, but you’re too far gone to think about that.
“No,” you answer, nodding your head up and down in contrast to your answer, earning a huff of relief from Eddie.
The blanket slackens from his pull and the bed dips deeper as he leans in further to get a better look at you. Once again, if you were more cognizant you’d probably rather he didn’t, but you wouldn’t have the will to fight it anyways.
“Did you take anything?” he asks.
“It’s been a few hours.”
“Did you eat?”
“Yeah, whipped up a quick 4 course meal earlier, michelin approved of course,” you mumble. You contemplate cracking an eye open to see his reaction but you don’t.
“Right, so no food.”
“No, surprisingly not that hungry when you’re on your deathbed,” you say, sniffling.
“Tell me you’ve at least had water,” he says and from his tone you know that he already knows the answer.
“I had water until the bottle was empty, then I decided I’d rather succumb to death than get out of bed,”
“Funny, funny girl,” he says dryly, obviously not impressed by your answers.
“Tombstone quote,” you say weakly, hoping that Eddie gets what you mean. He laughs softly and you consider that enough of a success.
You hear the slightest bit of shuffling, not Eddie getting up but more like he’s looking around your room. Whatever state it’s in, you couldn’t even work up the courage to care.
“Do you want a movie on or something?” he asks, breaking the lull in conversation.
“Would you do that?” you ask, tilting your face towards him despite not opening your eyes.
“Oh yeah. I’m giving you the mortally ill special— the deathbed works, if you will,” he says, and you can tell he’s smiling. You do your best to smile back but it’s weak and probably looks more like a grimace.
You feel shuffling before the bed rises from Eddie standing.
“Okay, so I’m gonna get you medicine first. Then movie, food, and whatever else, deal?”
Your lower lip pouts out appreciatively for the boy you’ve called your best friend for forever now. If you weren’t deathly ill, you’d kiss him.
“Thank you, Eddie,” you whisper, voice getting caught in your throat for an entirely different reason than your cold this time.
He mumbles back some version of ‘don’t worry about it’ before he’s off, leaving you in the quiet of your room with only your breathing, coughing, and sniffling breaking the silence. It’s barely a few minutes before you hear his footsteps and the edge of your bed dips again.
“This is what you took right? The cold and flu medicine?”
“Mhm” you hum.
“You have nasal congestion?”
You sniffle loudly and nod.
“Right. Nasal pain, sinus congestion, and sinus pain?”
You hum again, catching onto the fact that he’s reading the symptoms off of the box.
“Chest congestion?”
Weakly you swat your hand out trying to find Eddie. When you do, you give him the weakest of taps. “Too many questions,” you muster.
“Well, I know you’re joking about dying but I don’t want to actually kill you,” he says. You hum again.
You hear him fumbling with the cardboard before fumbling with the plastic pill packaging.
“Do you wanna sit up?” he asks.
“I want to die,”
“Well you can’t do that so I’m gonna help you sit up, okay?”
Eddie starts tugging at the blanket and you let your weakened limbs go limp, undoubtedly making the task much harder for him but he doesn’t say anything. Eventually, he pulls you up by your underarms, propping you up against your headboard.
When you feel his cool hands on your forehead, pushing your hair back and out of your face, you open your eyes for the first time since Eddie got here.
“There she is,” he laughs lightly, still pushing back the disheveled mess that is your hair.
“Your hands feel nice,” you whisper, focusing on the coolness on your skin. Before you have a chance to really absorb the relief of his hands on your skin, he pulls away, grabbing for the water he had set down on your bedside table.
“Yeah, you’re really hot,” he replies, passing the water to you.
“Tombstone quote,” you say, catching his eye, making him laugh again. With a shaky hand, you take the water.
“Funny and hot, that’s a killer deal.” He hands you the little cold and flu pill and you place it in your mouth, swallowing it down with small sips of the cold water that feels like ice going down your throat.
You redirect your gaze to Eddie, “you’re gonna get sick, that’s the real killer here,” you say.
“I’ll be fine,”
“You don’t want this cold, trust me,” you say, taking another sip of water before holding it out to Eddie.
“I’ll be fine,” he repeats as he takes the water, putting it back on your bedside table.
You nod. You appreciate Eddie’s help more than anything. Fending for yourself wasn’t exactly going so well— clearly.
“You had this with your other stuff, do you want it?” he asks, holding up the vicks vapor rub.
When you felt the cold coming on you went to the pharmacy and picked up a few things just in case. The vapor rub was on sale and you bought it on a whim but haven’t tried it yet.
“Do you think it really works?”
“Wayne used to put it on me, I guess it does?”
“Where do you put it?”
“On your chest or back,” he answers, looking at the fine print of the packaging. “Yeah, it says chest, throat, and back.”
You open your mouth to reply but instead feel the creeping up of the tickling in your throat. Turning the other way, you do your best to not cough all over Eddie. Sucking in a deep breath, you only trigger another cough that divulges into one of many coughing attacks that you’ve had today. When you’re finally done, you drop your head to the back of the headboard in defeat.
“C’mon, let’s try it on your back for now,” he says, putting a hand on your shoulder encouraging you to lean forward. You move how he wants you without protest.
“I’m just gonna lift up your shirt a bit, okay?” he says, you nod but he pauses, fingers just barely slipping under the hem of your shirt.
“Eddie, with the way I’m feeling, you could see me butt ass naked right now and I could not care less,” you say.
He snorts a laugh before his cool fingers trail up your spine giving you tingles that make you shiver. “Sorry,” he hums but you shake your head. His hand makes contact with your upper back, rubbing the ointment on your skin and it honestly feels incredibly soothing. Whether it’s the rub or the physical contact, you’re not sure, but you’re not questioning it either.
The noise that comes out of you could have been a moan had you not been congested. Instead it comes out like a low, stuffed up groan— not unlike a movie zombie.
Eddie rubs a few more circles on your back before his hand travels back down your spine.
“How’s that feel?” he asks, helping you sit back up straight.
“So fucking good and like I need you to rub my back like that again,” you say, resting your head back against the headboard. Maybe you put a little too much conviction in your words but that truly felt amazing.
The room is silent and you blink open your eyes to see Eddie holding the tub of rub in his hands, paused halfway through closing it. It takes a moment for him to look up at you but when he does, he smiles softly.
“What movie do you wanna watch?”
Had you not been distracted by your sickness, you might have noticed the faintness of a blush spreading across the tops of Eddie’s cheeks. Coughing and forcing air back into your lungs takes up every ounce of your consciousness though, so you don’t notice.
You shrug your shoulder taking a deep breath, “anything, I’ll probably pass out from the medicine anyways,” you reply, turning away again to cough.
Eddie hums before he’s moving to your dresser opposite your bed, angling the TV for you to see it better.
“Sixteen Candles, Children of the Corn, Gremlins, Teen Wolf?” he says, listing off the titles of the different tapes you have sprawled next to the vcr.
“Any.”
“Gremlins seems kind of relevant,” he says, pulling open the clamshell box.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” you ask. Eddie turns to you, smirk spreading across his lips.
“Nothing,” he sings lightly. He turns away from you, pushing the tape into the player and then pressing the combination of buttons to get it working.
“You better not be implying that I look like a gremlin because—” you interrupt yourself with another cough that quickly divulges into yet another coughing fit— worse than the last.
With each cough being so strong it makes your head pound. You don’t notice Eddie crossing your room or him settling back on the edge of your bed. You only notice his presence when he’s encouraging you forward, hand rubbing your back again.
When your coughing finally calms down enough for you to take a good breath, Eddie brings the glass of water up for you to take a sip. You take the cup in your hands, guiding it to your mouth. At the same time, Eddie never fully lets go of the cup, making sure it doesn’t spill. You take a drink, nodding when you’re done and he sets it back down, hand still running up and down your back.
“It’s probably just the rub working, getting all that nasty stuff out,” he says softly.
You nod again, letting your head fall to rest on Eddie’s shoulder. It’s probably not the smartest idea to be so close to him because you're pretty much sentencing him to his demise, but with how terrible you feel you’re desperate for anything to make it better— and right now the only thing making anything better is Eddie.
“The medicine’ll kick in any minute and you’ll feel much better, okay? I’ll go get you something to eat and then I can rub your back some more. How’s that sound?” he says softly, brushing the edge of your face with his chin as he tilts his face downwards towards yours.
Your lower lip pouts out again and you feel your eyes water behind your closed lids. Maybe you were already hyper emotional from feeling so sick, but Eddie being so sweet is also doing a number on you.
“Sounds really nice,” you whisper, sucking in a breath.
“You’ll be okay,” Eddie whispers, hand switching from rubbing up and down your back to rubbing circles at the top of your back. “I’ll take care of you, I got you.”
Before the tears in your eyes have a chance to breach your waterline, Eddie’s shifting beside you, leaning you back against the headboard with the promise of being quick while he gets you food. Only once he’s gone and you’re left alone in your room do you notice Gremlins has already started playing. Opening your eyes, you spare a few glances at the screen that distract you from your teary eyed state.
As Eddie promised, he was pretty quick in his return. You could hear him the whole time, kitchen utensils clanking and cupboard doors closing. Maybe all concept of time is lost on you right now, but it seemed like barely any time had passed before he was taking slow, careful steps back towards your room.
“Alright— got that soup you like, got crackers, and got you some juice,” Eddie announces as he situates the dishware on your bedside table. “I even made sure not to warm the soup too much so you can eat it right away,” he says.
Eyes closed again, you don’t know what you expected him to do but him manhandling you took you by surprise. A hand slid behind your back and another under your upper thighs, he was sliding you right over on the mattress.
“Just giving myself some space here,” he says absentmindedly as he fixes your blanket around you. He quickly settles in next to you before grabbing the sleeve of crackers and settling them in front of you and grabbing the bowl of soup.
Sitting with his legs stretched out next to yours, you let your head dip to his shoulder again, this time like a silent thank you where you cozy your head against him, not unlike a cat.
“For the record, you’re more like Gizmo,” he says, a tease intruding in his voice.
“Hm?” you hum questioningly.
“You don’t look like a gremlin, you’re cute like Gizmo,” he says.
You sink your face further into the crook of Eddie's shoulder, lip jetting out once more. He’s done nothing more than call you a cute gremlin rather than an evil gremlin, yet you feel yourself turning misty eyed yet again. This time you squeeze your eyes shut, closing them on purpose, hiding your sickness induced emotions.
“Soups gonna get cold,” Eddie says, twisting his neck to look at you again. “C’mon, it’ll be better for you if you eat it warm,” he says, using his free arm to move you.
Once you’re finally propped up again in an appropriate position to eat, you feel Eddie’s hand on your cheek— no doubt becoming aware of your tears.
“You okay?” he asks softly, thumb rubbing under your cheek.
“You’re being so nice to me,” you explain, sniffling back your need to cry.
“Just taking care of you. Want you to feel better,” he replies, keeping his voice quiet.
“Thank you, Eddie.”
“You don’t gotta thank me, just gotta eat your soup, okay Gizmo?” Eddie says, making you snort out a snotty laugh before sucking it all back in with an apology that he quickly dismisses.
You take a few breaths, getting your tears under control. Shifting your focus to the soup, Eddie holds the bowl close to you while you slowly feed yourself spoonful after spoonful.
“Crackers?” Eddie offers.
“Maybe one.”
“How ‘bout two?” he replies, peeling back the plastic and pulling two out for you. You nod softly before taking them from him.
You feel yourself running out of energy and it’s exasperating that all it took was lifting a spoon to your lips a measly few times. When you let the crackers sit in your lap for too long, Eddie turns to look at you, resting the bowl of soup down in his lap.
“Y’okay?” he asks.
“Tired,” you answer.
“Just finish those and you can be done, okay?” he says, meeting your gaze. You shake your head.
“Can’t,” you reply.
“You can,” he says, turning his torso to put the bowl of soup on the table. He turns back around, reaching for the crackers in your hand. “Know you can,” he repeats, bringing the crackers to your lips.
“Eddie—” you try to protest.
“Bite,” he says, cutting you off and nudging the cracker into your mouth.
You bite, giving into him. It feels weird being hand fed. It’s probably even weirder when two bites in you close your eyes in an effort to conserve your energy. Regardless, Eddie doesn’t say anything besides positive affirmations about how good you’re doing which you really, really appreciate.
“How about you drink some of this,” he says, reaching for the glass of juice as you chew the last bite of cracker. “Then I’ll help you lay down and I can rub your back s’more?”
“You don’t have to if you wanna go home, you've been here a long time,” you say, swallowing the dryness of the cracker down.
Eddie lifts the cup of juice to your lips, tipping it back for you to sip at. When you take more than a few drinks, you lift a hand lightly pushing the cup away. Blinking your eyes open you look at Eddie as he returns the cup to sit with the other dishware on your bedside table.
“I’m serious, Eddie. You can go home if you want,”
“Don’t want to,”
“You’re gonna be— you interrupt yourself with a yawn this time. “—gonna be so sick,” you say groggily.
“Just let me cuddle you, you know you want it,” he says, a teasing tone hinting in his voice. You blink open your eyes again to see a genuine smile as he looks at you—one that shouldn’t be there considering how gross you feel and are sure you look. Despite that, it’s there and you do want cuddles so you nod softly, making a weak, sad attempt at getting closer to Eddie.
Eddie meets your attempt by gently pulling you down the mattress. He maneuvers you to have your head resting on his chest while his arm snakes around you, rubbing circles on your back. With the sleepiness settling in and your cold symptoms dialing back due to the medicine, you can’t help but hum happily.
“Feels good, doesn’t it?” he says quietly.
It feels beyond good. Good is an understatement. Having him take care of you like this is making you feel mushy and only highlights your feelings for Eddie. In combination with your partially delusionally, sleepy state the only thing on your mind is expressing your feelings, all of them true no matter how far out of it you are at this point.
“Eddie, if I die, just know that I love you,” you mutter into the fabric of his shirt.
“That’s just the cold medicine talking,” Eddie laughs softly. You find the energy to shake your head.
“Nuh-uh, love you,” you repeat. “Love you so much.”
It’s faint, maybe he whispered it or maybe it’s the fact that you were slipping into sleep but you heard it.
“I love you too,” he says quietly.
As if those words gave you a short lived second life, it had you perking up, desperately needing to clarify just in case he didn’t understand.
“But Eddie I love you as my best friend but also more than that— I love you so much.”
He leaves you in silence but you don’t have the clear consciousness to overthink it, you just keep talking.
“I don’t even care if you don’t like me like that, I love you Eddie.”
“I love you too. Love you a lot, but I think we should talk about this when you’re not tired and on cold medicine, okay?” he whispers softly.
As your thoughts start to drift, you focus on the first half of Eddie's sentiment. He loves you— and he loves you a lot. With that on your mind, intermixed with the comforting friction of his hand on your back, you fall into the deepest and most comfortable sleep of your life despite being so sick. Eddie loves you.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
Arguably, the best thing that came out of your cold was your confession. It was bound to happen eventually and although it did sort of seem like a deathbed confession at the time, it was genuine— that of which you clarified for Eddie. To your fortune, he also clarified that his reply was true as well. Beyond that, you were still sick and neither of you had done much more than just sharing those little words that one night. So yes, arguably, that's the best thing that came out of your sickly state; however, in your opinion, you think the best thing that happened was that you got Eddie sick too.
It was less than a day after you started feeling normal again that Eddie was running a fever. He ended up staying at your place for the majority of your sickness but he had left once to get some things for himself. Since he had his stuff here already, you offered for him to stay over at yours while you returned the favor of playing doctor.
Eddie took on a much different position as a sick person than you did. Undeniably, you both were on the dramatic end of things but while your cynical humour came out during your time being sick, Eddie was much different in how expressed himself.
Normally, a very touchy feely person, his affectionate side heightened tenfold while he was sick. He was all grabby hands, wanting you closer to him. Maybe it was because the two of you had broken the touch barrier while you were sick or maybe Eddie just turned into a touch deprived baby when he was sick, you’ll never know, but you didn’t deny him of the cuddles that you so dearly appreciated while you were under the weather.
The most interesting part— which shouldn't have came as a surprise, was that not only did he appreciate holding you, but he intensely appreciated you holding him, whether that be hands scratching his head as he rested it on your stomach, or your arms wrapped around him from behind making him the little spoon. Additionally, he was also incredibly affectionate with his words, constantly telling you how grateful he was for you and how much he appreciated you.
Your favourite confession came late one night, probably at the peak of his sickness. Fairly similar to your deathbed confession, but a moment to remember regardless.
You had just finished helping him eat, similar to how he had done for you, and were cuddling with him, smoothing your hands over his side as he rested his head on your chest.
The medicine was kicking in, making him drowsy, eyes fluttering shut as he let sleep take him over. He had kept babbling random thoughts but as he got more and more tired he was eventually reduced to heavy breaths. That was, until he titled his face up to yours. You looked down at him, meeting his sleepy eyes.
“I love you,” he said. “Love you so much.”
“Love you too, Eddie,” you replied, smiling.
“But I love you so much,” he said, voice returning to its babbling cadence. “Love you so much I wanna kiss you and love you and—” his babbling started to slowly fade as his head got heavier on your chest. You couldn’t help but laugh softly as your heart swelled.
You smoothed a hand over his face, brushing back his hair as you stared at him with nothing but love for your very, very sick boy. Like you had given him a second wind, his babbling started up again.
“Wanna marry you. Love you so much wanna marry you,” he said, words slurring.
“Think you’ll have to ask me on a date first, cutie,” you replied quietly, partially under the impression that he was already asleep.
“I will. Love you so much, I will,” he mumbled and with that, he was out like a light.
From there, the rest was history. If curious minds were to inquire, you would say that Eddie’s always been very good at keeping his promises, and mindless babbling or not, he meant every word that he confessed in his sickly, drowsy state.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
thank you! <3
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson oneshot#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson x fem!reader#bestfriend!eddie munson#eddie munson friends to lovers
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Can I ask a Steve Harrington x shy!reader where she has a locket that represents him (like the initial SH) and she always wears it but under her shirt so that no one can see? One day, Steve comes home to find her asleep, he smiles and leans to kiss her but then finds out her little secret. Just fluff:)
steve finds a sweet surprise when sneaking into your bedroom to see you — steve x gn!reader fluff
warnings: none:)
words: 1.1k
a/n: this was supposed to be a little tiny blurb idk what happened lmao but I hope you like it!
Steve was supposed to be there at 11 o’clock sharp.
He had promised you that as soon as the arcade closed and all the boys were dropped off at home, he’d be sneaking up into your room without a sound. ‘Like a ninja’ were his exact words; and maybe it was your fault for assuming ninjas were punctual.
You had given him a little grace period, maybe twenty minutes where he could come and you wouldn’t be upset with him. An hour after that ended, you decided you weren’t even going to wait anymore. If Steve was willing to wait that long to see you, he could wait even longer.
You decided to change into a pair of pyjamas instead of staying in your normal clothes all night and then get ready for bed. After turning out your lights and closing your curtains, you tucked yourself in and quickly fell asleep.
Unluckily, Steve had arrived just a few minutes after you dozed off. He cursed himself quietly when he saw your curtains drawn—already knowing you’d be pissed at him for being late—then tumbled over your windowsill since he was using one hand to palm away the hanging fabric. As he was climbing, he noticed you were asleep and was shocked that you stayed in your state despite the thud he made when he hit the ground. He was thankful you didn’t wake, though; he didn’t want your morning grumpiness on top of your anger at him for not showing up on time.
When he walked towards your bed, a smile graced his face at the closer sight of your peaceful figure. He wondered what you were dreaming about, and of course he hoped it was him.
Steve crouched down to plant a kiss on your forehead before pausing and contemplating what he should do. He pondered staying, but he didn’t want to be the kind of creep who sneaks into girls’ beds when they’re sleeping—even if you were dating. Then he thought about sleeping on the floor, but he didn’t want to deal with back pain when he’s already on his feet all day. So, he decided that he’d write a nice note, promise to take you out for a make-up date tomorrow night, then leave the same way he came.
He sauntered over to the desk across from your bed so he could borrow a pen and piece of paper, then carefully avoided picking the stationery he remembered you calling ‘the expensive stuff’. Personally, he doesn’t understand why anyone would buy writing supplies when they were always just laying around somewhere, but he didn’t judge you.
Steve started the note out by addressing it and drawing no less than five hearts around your name. Then he got straight to the apology. He wasn’t sure how much he should say, so he just told himself that he’d explain, apologise, and promise to make it up to you until his hand started cramping—and he did just that. He signed his name at the bottom of the page, then capped your pen and thought about where to put it.
His first thought was to leave it on your pillow, but then he got worried about you smudging it in your sleep and not reading what he wrote, so he went with his next thought of your nightstand. He would leave it by your alarm clock, leave, then you would find it in the morning and all would be okay. But a shiny object on the night table caught his attention and delayed his plan.
You always wore a gold locket, but you never showed the inside to anyone. All your friends had tried to guess, saying everything from a magazine cutout of Rob Lowe to a single brown m&m, but you never revealed it.
And now here that necklace was, right in front of Steve, and he couldn’t resist looking. As worried as he was that you’d be mad at him for peeking, he told himself that you’d never find out and it was only a tiny peek. So, he placed the note on the nightstand, and swapped it for the necklace.
As tough as the decision was on whether he should look or leave it alone, the locket itself was actually quite easy to open. And once he saw the picture, his heart swelled at least two sizes and he wished he had looked before now.
It was a tiny black and white picture of him that was cut out from the school newspaper. He remembers the exact photo, too. It was his last meet with the Hawkins High swim team, and he had tried harder than ever to win. After finishing the half mile distance a second before the rival school, he was completely exhausted.
Your boyfriend came out of the water, and barely got to sit down for a minute before some skinny sophomore had come up wanting to take a picture of him and the rest of the team for the school paper. He had initially told the kid the buzz off, but you had reminded him how hard he worked, and that this might be the last time he ever gets to be in the newspaper, and he reluctantly got up to pose with the rest of his peers.
He smiled quickly, then went back to the bench to sit with you, grumbling about how he probably looks like he’s about to pass out in the photo. You laughed, but assured him that you saw his smile and he actually looked like a million bucks.
He tried arguing, but you fed his ego by reminding him a million times of how pretty he always looks and that the picture was no exception. A few days later, the paper came out and you pointed it out as soon as you saw it.
“See?” You said with a sigh. “The hottest Hawkins High swim champ ever. I’m gonna keep this forever, it’s such a good picture of you.”
Steve didn’t know you actually kept it for this long. He honestly assumed you threw it out the next day, and he certainly didn’t expect you to keep it after graduation. He stroked the edge of the locket with his thumb and wondered when you put the picture in the locket and just how often you looked at it.
The smile on his face wasn’t going anywhere at this point, and it likely wouldn’t leave until he fell asleep.
He closed the locket and put it back right where he found it, then leaned down to push the hair from your face and kissed your cheek. He whispered a ‘goodnight, sleep tight, baby’ and walked across the room to crawl out through your window.
Steve wouldn’t tell you about what he saw tonight, but he was sure he’d never stop thinking about it.
#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington x you#steve harrington oneshot#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington fic#stranger things#stranger things fluff#xena's requests
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Can I request a predator smut with prompts 51,52 and 64 please?
Predator x Reader
Helloooooo, Briteny's back bitches 😌💅
Want more from me? Masterlist
☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆
Hunter and Prey (Predator)
Warning(s): Smut, reader being chased, park smex (so that's nice, yeah), and idk how I wrote this in class, so have fun, the sparkly stars below are a scam, this is anything but cute
Your predator does what he knows best, hunt...
✨✨✨✨✨✨
“I thought I’d try something different tonight…”
With a tilt of his head, you knew your Yautja was intrigued as you leaned back into him.
“Play a little game, where I’d be your prey. Would you like that?”
You could feel the rumble in his chest, claws trailing down your frame.
“If I win, I do what I want with you—” your breath hitched as they grazed ever so delicately against your inner thigh.
“If I win?” his deep and gravelly English makes you smile. You were a good teacher.
“You do what a hunter would with any prey…” you trail off with a bite of your lip.
“Mm. Rules?”
“The first rule is you only have two hours after my 30-minute headstart. The second: No Bio-Helmet. It wouldn’t be fair to give you such an easy win.”
Then you felt the jump of laughter, you did always enjoy the sound of his laugh, even if it sounded absolutely anything but kind.
“I think I’ve got this in the bag. Your eyesight is shitty without that thing,” you grinned.
“Is that…a challenge? You know I love those.”
•─────⋅☾ 𝕻𝖗𝖊𝖉𝖆𝖙𝖔𝖗 ☽⋅─────•
And now here you were, being chased in the small town by your predator.
You’d made it a distance from your home, confident you would win this little game.
You were careful, the small town was dead at night…however, that didn’t mean there wasn't a risk you or your hunter would be seen.
But that made it all the more thrilling.
Soon, you were at the park, making your way through the crowd of trees.
Your head snapped behind you when you heard birds squawk…he was getting closer, you had to move.
On the other hand, your Predator was a little convinced you truly didn’t want to win, considering you were leaving clues.
Every half a mile or so, there was a piece of clothing he could see.
A hat.
A scarf.
One glove here, another there.
Your coat, he could see from the trees.
But he couldn’t find you. Yet.
He refused to lose, never once has he lost a hunt.
Then he heard the snap of a stick not too far from where he was.
There you were.
You knew you were fucked, you knew he’d hear you.
And he could smell your excitement fill the air at the thought of that.
Time was ticking, he smoothly leaped from one tree to another, getting closer by the second.
•─────⋅☾ 𝕻𝖗𝖊𝖉𝖆𝖙𝖔𝖗 ☽⋅─────•
“Shit…” you whispered, slowly lifting your foot from the broken branch.
You had to run.
You heard a couple of men not too far away murmuring lowly, maybe they could be the distraction. Hiding your body in plain sight.
You hide behind a tree, peeking out to observe them. Maybe you could stand close to them to confuse your body heat or—
With a gasp, you’re slammed into the bark, your mouth is covered.
He’s here.
His gaze pierced into yours, he leans into your ear, “I win. Twenty minutes left. What was that about… having it in the bag?”
You scoff, voice muffled by his hand, “Bite me.”
“If that’s what you wish..."
•─────⋅☾ 𝕻𝖗𝖊𝖉𝖆𝖙𝖔𝖗 ☽⋅─────•
“H-hah…So-So much…” you whimper as you get rammed into.
You were so hot, yet so cold all at once. The air was crisp, and it didn’t help that the only clothes you had were ripped to shreds.
Your legs buckled, hardly able to stand, but you did, knees brushing together with each jut forward.
As much as he liked holding you…he really loved when you were bent over, taking him in.
His grip on your ripped shirt was tight, he used it to tug you back into him.
You tried so hard to keep quiet, you didn’t want to be heard.
But you were the only one that cared, so.
He decided to be a little asshole and let some of his raw strength seep in, he was still in control of course.
He liked you too much to kill you this way…Now anyway.
And quite honestly, in this fucked out moment of yours, you wouldn’t have minded this being your way out.
A loud mewl—that he thought was very cute—slipped past your lips.
He rolled his hips, the circular movement hitting you deep.
You bite your lip to keep quiet best you could, but he was making it hard.
He’d make it even harder for you.
I mean, you did this much. Made him hunt you. In public at that, but couldn’t handle a few weakling men hearing you?
What would they do except scream before he kills them for seeing you in such a state?
He made his thrusts more deliberate, not really fast, but hardly gentle. Hitting that spot he knew would make you break.
Because if he didn’t make you cry with pleasure, he wasn’t doing it right.
If you weren’t babbling for more, then his job wasn’t done.
He wouldn’t stop until he got what he wanted. That was his reward. He won fair and square.
He loved conquering you, admiring your body, feeling it against his.
And he also loved reminding you that no matter how long you’ve been with him, how much you’ve toughened up…you were still the weakling little human who’d easily get drunk on his cock no matter how many times you’ve seen and felt it.
You tell him it’s because you love him.
Such a thing is foreign to him, he had mates, not love.
But make no mistake, if there’s one thing he understands. He loves your body.
His hand traces over your sides, your hips.
He loves every curve, dent, blemish, freckle, mole, the uneven skin tone in some places.
You are quite the fascinating creature.
He watches as your body trembles, you gasp for breath, fresh after climax.
But despite him going so hard on you, despite your behind being slapped so much it’s changed color, despite the dents his claws left behind, despite your throat being sore from taking him earlier…you still smile and say…
“Give me more…I know you’re not done yet.”
#predator x reader#predator x human#predator smut#alien#monster fucker#yautja x reader#yautja smut#yautja x human#yautja#predator
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𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 so american ·˚ ༘
warnings ! near car crash? few swear words, pogues & kooks are friends! kelce and topper and dicks. um idk what else actually lmk if there’s anything i should add !! could be mistakes it’s too late for this😭
rafe x british!reader AGAIN!
drivin’ on the right-side road
“can i please drive today, rafe!” you excitedly came downstairs wearing your adidas campus instead of your usual heels.
“i don’t feel like dying today, angel!” rafe said in the same excited voice, mocking you.
“oh come on! it will be fun, i promise.” you said now feeling him up in order to get your way.
“fine.” he let out in defeat, connecting your lips and handing you his keys.
⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚
“i thought you said this would be fun, y/n?!” rafe said holding onto the door and his seat belt.
“what do you mean? i’m always fu-“
“Y/N YOU’RE ON THE WRONG FUCKING SIDE” rafe screamed cutting you off as a car came, having to turn the wheel towards the correct lane.
“oops?” you let out a laugh at rafe’s terrified face.
“you are never driving again.”
he says i’m pretty wearin’ his clothes
you were getting ready for a beach day with your friends, a weekly occurrence during the summer. you were applying your spf in rafe’s bathroom when he came in grumpily with his bed hair.
“you better get ready before we are late, love.” you laughed at him as he wrapped his arms around your waist nearly falling asleep on your shoulder.
“hmmmm i’m so tired.” he kissed your neck before leaving to his closet.
he came back in 5 minutes later dressed into only swimming trunks and no shirt, but yet holding one.
“you gonna wear this?” he said passing you his white button up shirt for you to wear as a bikini cover knowing that’s what you usually do, still not use to the hot weather after moving.
you immediately put it on after he handed it to you, placing your sunglasses on your head before checking yourself in the mirror for the last time.
“you look so pretty, especially in my clothes. you’re so beautiful angel.” rafe said spinning you around, placing a kiss on your lips.
and he’s got hands that make hell seem cold
watching the sunset on the beach and then spending the rest of your night driving around with your perfect boyfriend in the front seat of his car, listening to the music you wanted, there’s nothing that can make it unenjoyable.
except for when you regret wearing shorts.
rafe noticed the goose bumps on your thighs immediately.
he reached over the middle console and placed his hand on your thigh in an attempt to warm your legs up as well as turning the warm air on.
“how the fuck are your hands so warm?”
feet on the dashboard, he’s like a poem i wish i wrote, i wish i wrote
when he laughs at all my jokes
you, rafe, sarah, topper, kelce, jj and pope were sat at dinner at the country club finishing up on your meal.
“so i got card for the meal and cash for the tip.” you said to the server.
well rafe’s card. he refused to let you use your own.
while the server processed the card, you handed them two twenty dollar bills.
“that’s fake by the way” you laughed while the table including the server just started at you.
well except rafe who was giggling.
and he (she) says i’m so american
“i don’t understand rafe. it’s our language, we are correct, it’s a fucking CRISP.” you and rafe were sat on your bed after just coming home from the store with your snacks.
“angel, it’s a chip.” he said laughing, kissing your temple”
“god rafe, why are you so american.”
oh god, it’s just not fair of him to make me feel this much
you, sarah and kie were in sarah’s living room gossiping about everyone and everything.
“he just makes me so happy, this is seriously the happiest i’ve ever been in my life. baldie really makes me smile” you said laughing and also smiling at the thought of your boyfriend.
rafe stood in the door way of his living room listening to you speak about him with an uncontrollable smile, while also rubbing his head to the use of ‘baldie’.
i’ll go anywhere he goes
“are we going to the party?” you asked rafe needing an answer soon to know if you should start getting ready or not.
“up to you.” he said unbothered, despite it being his best friends party. “i’ll go anywhere you go.” he added.
and he says i’m so american
oh god i’m gonna marry him if he keeps this shit up
you were laying in bed from your uncontrollable period pain, nothing was working!
when you had to cancel plans on rafe, he was so worried.
he ran to the store immediately, texting sarah and asking her for help.
he chose chocolate, tampons, ice cream, crisps!!!! (chips) and also got you takeout.
when he came into your room holding the goods with a huge smile on his face, you took one look at him before crying.
he placed the things on the floor and immediately rushed over to you.
“what’s wrong baby, is it me?”
hearing him say that made you cry even more.
“i’m gonna fuckin’ marry you, if you keep this up.”
i might just be in lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-love
you were sat at the beach having a picnic that rafe so kindly set up after you mentioned it one time weeks ago.
you watched him stare out at the sea infront of you, looking so peaceful.
“i think im in love with you.” you said out of no where, even shocking yourself.
“what?”
“what?”
god i’m so boring and i’m so rude
“rafe why don’t you come to a party get high, get bitc-“
“don’t finish that sentence, you know i’m with y/n.” rafe said cutting topper off angrily.
“but she’s so boring!” topped exclaimed.
“and she’s rude, all she ever does is swear.”
“i don’t give a fuck. stop speaking about her, the both of you. don’t even look at her again.” rafe said before storming off.
can’t have a conversation if it’s not all about you
“and so like the other day rafe and i, we we-“
“y/n. we have been at this table for two hours, you’ve ate nothing and just talked about rafe.” your mother cut you off leaving you with a frown on your face.
the way you dress and the books you read
you walked into rafe’s backyard to see him laying on a sun lounger, book in hand as he focuses on the words.
he’s wearing a blue and white stripped button up shirt and navy shorts. he smiles as he looks up and stares at you, as you make your way over.
you gave him a big smile and straddled his lap, putting his book mark into his page dropping his book onto the floor.
“my god you look so good.” you said kissing him hard.
i really love my bed, but, man, it’s hard to sleep when he’s with me
after spending what felt like a month in rafe’s house, you both decided to go to your house, and you couldn’t lie, you were excited to get to your own bed.
that night rafe had took all the blanket from you causing you to freeze and unable to sleep.
“rafe i am gonna kill you, please give me blanket.” you said to basically yourself as he spread out, snoring annoyingly and taking even more of the blanket.
#rafe cameron#drew starkey#rafe x reader#rafe fluff#rafe outer banks#outer banks#rafe fic#rafesdrew 𝜗𝜚#spotify
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𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐊𝐍𝐈𝐅𝐄
summary: in frenzied expeditions, eddie lets his anger snap and indulges in something... new.
content warnings: ghostface!eddie. character death (no one major), murder, eddie and reader being lovesick psychopaths, kinda shitty writing, gore, graphic depictions of violence. SMUT (18+ MDNI), (a warning that's a spoiler), knife play, blood kink, unprotected sex, creampie, oral (m receiving), ball play, gagging, facefucking, overstimulation, kitchen sex??
a/n: in honor of halloween; idk how to explain this. i hope u guys like it. i wrote it within two days. this was kinda rushed. reblogs and comments are appreciated. thank u my girls @mysticmunson and @lilacletter for beta-reading!!
“Hello?”
“Hi, sweetheart,”
Funny how that baritone dulcetness of a voice was easily recognizable. But it was probably because you’ve heard it in many different ways possible that this experimentation seemed familiar to you. Even with his speech choppy from the static of the RT.
“Hey, Eddie,” RT balanced between your ear and shoulder, you take the popcorn out from the microwave, the hot bowl seethes on your poor fingers but you could care less; the burning feeling felt good. “Where are you?”
“On my way,” his voice is slightly garbled. “Just got held up from the drive thru, babe. Don’t start the film without me,”
“Of course,” you chuckle. “Andy’s right here. He’s, uh, out by the pool smoking. The others are on their way though,”
He spits out an obscenity at what you think is an unforeseen speed bump, then a clutter that probably meant his RT fell to the ground. Then his voice is faint next: “I don’t understand why we invited these dickheads,”
“It’s for a truce,” you place the bowl on the countertop, crossing your arms over your white linen sweater, the soft cotton tickling your wrists. “I mean, baby, come on. You graduated! And so did they and, y’know, they want to fix things before they head off to college. And- Eddie, come on, you agreed!”
“I did. But, I just don’t know why we have to watch a movie at your place. You’re alone with Andy right now and I’m still twenty minutes away,”
You hear something slam in the background over his side. You frown, eyes scanning for Andy’s figure out in the backyard; a silver mist hovers over the teal pool, dark green grass almost black, the moon glinting its sharp tips.
And then there’s Andy, with his hands in his hips and a cigarette in his mouth. He turns and waves at you. You wave back.
“Andy’s not here with me. He’s outside, remember?” you pop a popcorn into your mouth, bending over the counter with your elbow on the marbled gloss. “You gotta relax, Eds. I’m fine. If he touches me, I could just… stab him,”
"You wouldn't,"
“I would,”
“You caught a rat and sent it away. You didn’t even drown it, or gut it. Or chop its head off,”
Laughing softly, you take the bowl into your hands and head over to the living room, placing it on the coffee table, aligning the stack of movies properly. “Doing that is, like, practically murder. Why don’t they include those cute little rats in the anti-animal abuse law? They’re still animals!”
“They’re pests, sweetheart.”
“Still an animal. And they're cute. Rodents are cute,” you plop down on the couch in a small bounce, not before you give Andy one last glance who seems to be staring at something across the fence. It’s probably just a squirrel. “What about you? Are you brave enough to kill a rat?”
“Oh, princess,” you can imagine him shaking his head, RT resting on the vacant seat beside him, replacing you. “You know I can do so much more than just kill a rat,”
“Spooky,” flipping your hair behind you, you giggle into the microphone. “Make it quick, please? I’m starving and popcorn’s not gonna suffice this hunger. I could eat a horse, or- I dunno, a person’s arm.”
“Sure thing, Your Majesty,” his voice deepens over a border of a mock British accent that hides his normal, American one well. Then he grunts, and another faint slam of something that catches you off guard and even makes you flinch.
“What was that?”
“What was what?” Eddie questions.
You sit forward. “That- slam. Where are you?”
“Oh! That. It’s just the shit at the back, babe.” Eddie explains. “I’m almost there, sweetheart. Sit tight and look pretty,”
The RT crackles and there’s nothing but silence left. An ephemeral smile makes its way towards your heated face; conversations with Eddie, no matter the topic or its duration, never fails to make itself linger around your berserk mind.
Your heart belabors your ribcage expectantly, your crimson bottom lip tucked between your pearls. With your thoughts suddenly wrapped around Andy, who makes you wonder how long does it take for someone to finish smoking, makes you jump from your seat and wander away from your bright living room.
By the time you reach the sliding doors that lead you to the backyard, you’ve no sight of the man in the bright green and orange Hawkins High jersey. You frown a little, looking around the expanse of your backyard.
Finally, you slide the doors open. You worry he’s on his little schemes again, like Eddie had warned you about. Despite the truce they offered, you still put them on a pedestal and remained cautious of their actions. Inviting Andy into your home when you were still alone wasn’t exactly one of your brightest decisions, seeing as he could have done anything at any moment that could cause you harm.
But he’s not a murderer.
No, Andy’s a teenage boy who’s attempting closure and forgiveness and practices maturity like every other teenager does. Just… at a later date.
You race back inside your home and pick up your RT and a flashlight. When you return outside, the mist over your pool swishes away from the cold summer wind at nightfall. You turn the switch of your flashlight and direct it at each direction that it could reach, radio tight in your other hand just in case.
“Andy?” you call out. Where could he have possibly gone? “Andy, where are you?”
White sneakers stained by the wet grass and the dirt, you pad across the lawn prudently—tacitly, wondering if maybe you could sneak up on him and give him a good scare. But your backyard lacks trees or any other areas to hide into other than the sun loungers and the shed.
So this concerns you deeply. How Andy could just suddenly disappear. You’ve quickly come to dread this, with the eerie silence that blots repetitively at your composure and suddenly your rattling in worry.
You walk around, pointing your flashlight at every direction, the white beam only allowing you to see the probable septuagenarian metal fences that surround your home. You even open the shed you’ve always feared opening in the nights and see nothing but your father’s equipment and a lawn mower.
But something was missing there.
Your father had a very voluptuary collection of knives that are hung meticulously to the wooden walls of the shed. They were exhibited by size, cleaned thoroughly once a week during his weekends. Their frequent disinfectioning proffers itself like a mirror, where you can clearly see your distraught expression when you realize one of the knives was missing.
The Buck 120.
It was your father’s most beloved. And now you wonder if Andy took it.
“Alright, Andy!” you slam the shed door close, walking backwards and speed walk across every corner of your backyard. “Come out! This isn’t funny! Did you go inside the shed?”
No answer, obviously. What were you thinking?
You harrumph, annoyed that Andy would do this despite your brooding. You stomp your way back inside your house, wiping your feet across the poor rug that you practically assault with your frustrated padding.
You place your flashlight on the counter. Impatient and worried, you try contacting Eddie again through the RT.
When it’s nothing but static, you groan. “God, Eddie, where are you?”
In fact, where are the others?
You twist the knobs of your walkie talkie still, searching for the right station.
Suddenly it crackles and you halt your doings, staring at the radio with a confused lour. The crinkling sound makes you tap your feet impatiently, thinking it’s Eddie because who else could it be?
The frizzling ceases. You take this as a sign to speak. “Hello?”
“Hi sweetheart,” it’s Eddie. But his voice is akin to darkness, almost like corruption playing with a knife that glooms over boredom. The hairs on your arms raise in arising suspicion.
“...Eddie?”
“Go out to the backyard, baby,”
Discomposed, you do. You take heedful steps back outside, a sinister quietude resolves uneasily all over your lit nerves. You hold the walkie talkie tight in your shaking hand, the flashlight you took lighting up the backyard again.
“I’m out,” you say quietly into the microphone. “Eddie, where are you?”
“Just keep walking forward,”
You miff. “Eddie, just come here! Where are you, anyway?” you look around, pointing the flashlight over the fences. “This isn’t funny. Did you take my dad’s knife? You know he hates it when someone touches his collection.”
Eddie titters like he doesn’t give a damn. “Just do what I say,”
Cheeks sucking in, you walk forward, until your eyes adjust to a dark figure sitting in the middle of the lawn. You tap your flashlight twice on your lamp, and point the light at the figure.
If you could, you could have broken the handle in your hand.
Andy’s mangled body sat straight on the chair, the guidance of the blood-soaked ropes kept him up high. His head dangles to the side, his open throat bleeds lavishly down his white shirt; the horrifyingly stark contrast of vermillion to alabaster sets an aberrant spark of terror in your bones.
Then the slit of his apertured stomach leaks all his visceri, a pool of blood beneath his feet and the chair, staining your grass red. You drop the flashlight without your knowledge, the light shining his wretched sneakers instead.
Your hands shakily grasp your mouth, your lips twisting drastically into a choked sob as tears try to sting your eyes. A couple of them drip down your cheeks, your crying more like heavy heaves and gasps.
“Eddie?” you whimper into the walkie. “Where are you? You- you have to come and get me and- and we h-have to call the cops. E-Hello…?” you bring the radio away from your face, staring at the small machine in horror. “Eddie?”
With perturbing fear, you force yourself to look up at Andy again. It’s only then you notice his eyes stare off into space, lacking the brash colors irises adorn — they aren’t blue anymore. It’s a pearl swimming in a milk of lifeless beauty; the barbaric aura of his eyes evinces you speechless, unable to look away from the monstrous crime.
His mouth gapes open, the shocking realization that no breath leaves his agape lips causes you to sob again, your feet bolting you back inside your home, body breaking at each step until you arrive inside your home in shambles.
You hit the walkie repeatedly and speak into it, the way Dustin would during ‘Code Reds’. “Eddie? Eddie!” you hiss. “You answer right-fucking-now. I need you to call the cops—”
With your constant walking back, and your shaky exhales and that ringing in your ears forbids you to hear what has happened inside the home. With one last step, your back meets something warm and acute, causing you to scream and pick up something close to you—a knife.
You point it to whoever it was, the tip meeting the intruder's black clothed mask. Your eyes are wide with fear that attempts bravery, the blunt knife threatening that person.
Your eyes meet the plastic ones, the mask sembles a ghost; its wide, parted mouth frozen like a haunted scream, but the vizard is nothing but dull with its aimless attempt to scare. Anamnesis, had it not been from the circumstances, you would have laughed at it.
You almost did.
“Hi,”
The voice is muffled, the sound marching to familiarity, to hesitance, to realization, to disbelief. You let out a shaky huff, your weapon trembling in your grasp.
“Eddie?”
His glove moves like a blur to remove his mask.
Eddie’s breathless and sweaty, droplets of blood splattered from his neck up to his jaw, the sanguine blood creating symbiotic art with his opalescent skin. He smiles, corners of his lips almost meeting his eyes, his dimples deep with pride, and his whiskey orbs wide in redolent mentality.
“Yeah, it’s me,” he tilts his head to the side, his crepuscular mouth still managing to make you swoon and forget about the horrors that cover his body. “Sorry I’m late, sweetheart,”
His hand gently pushes the knife down and you oblige, dropping it to the ground in a loud clatter that makes you wince.
Your head flips between him and the sliding doors behind you, which still shows Andy’s corpse from the flashlight you left.
“What did you do?” you query, bottom lip quivering as you look back at Eddie. He shrugs with no care, his eyebrows raised to his forehead.
“I killed them,” he says bluntly, his smile falling a little. “I told you I could kill more than just a rat, babe,”
“Wh-what so you just—decided to suddenly kill them? While we were talking about- about rats and shit?!”
Eddie shakes his head, worry filling his features. Though, he’s worried more at the fact that you may fear him for what he’s done. He bends down, his bloody, gloved hands reaching to grasp your shoulders, which causes the thick substance to stain your white sweater.
“No, baby, no,” he tuts, pouting a little, his hands smearing themselves over your clothing like he’s trying to clean his hands before he cups your face, his gloved thumbs wiping your barely there tears. “I was already thinking about this months ago. Rage does something to your mind, sometimes,”
You whimper and his features soften. “What- what do you mean?”
“Sweetheart, I just told you,” he pushes your hair away, patting it down. “I was mad. I am mad. I couldn’t just sit there and let them taunt me when I’m all defenseless, baby. Life isn’t like that—you’re supposed to fight back.”
“Fight back, not kill them!” you say through gritted teeth, chest heaving brokenly. “Eddie, you’ll go to jail. People will find out,”
“They won’t, baby. Not with this mask,” he takes it from the counter, the absence of his hand from one of your cheeks leaves something cold on your bare skin. “Besides, no one’s roaming around, remember? Everyone’s at the town fair, and we don’t have any surveillance cameras now, do we?”
You sniffle, can’t decide between leaning in his covered hand or flinching away from the smell of blood. But his eyes—Eddie’s eyes, oh, you can see well every shift of emotion, desecrating each one with something new and peculiar; he exceeds the threshold of creativity with it, almost like an actor. Just… more quixotic.
Yet, despite your knowledge of it, you’re still surprised and fooled with the way the madness in his eyes swiftly changed into something like begging and forbearance. How all that insanity melts and twinkles into silk kindness, like he’s your Eddie again.
He sees your fear.
“You don’t have to be afraid,” his hands leave your face for a moment to discard his blemished gloves. Your heart relaxes at the feeling of his rough palms on your soft cheeks, eyes scanning his blood doused rings. “You know I love you, (y/n). I could never, never ever, hurt you,”
Eddie’s anger has clemency incarcerated; all that self-restraint had finally become impuissant. You couldn’t blame him for finally snapping.
“And,” he continues. “You wanted this too, remember? All that taunting, all the horrible things they said to you. And I know it’s all because of me, princess. So I had to handle it. It’s all in my hands, baby.” his fingers travel down to yours, bringing your hands up to his lips and kisses each dip of your knuckle. “Yours are all pretty and clean. Sinless,”
“I wanted them to pay. I didn’t want them to die—”
“Sweetheart, you did,” Eddie says sternly. “I did this for you. Before we go away to stupid college.”
You start sobbing again and he shushes you. You don’t know why tears aren’t rolling down your face and it frustrates you.
“You killed them,” you spit out. “That’s- that’s murder…”
“No shit,” he snorts.
“It’s wrong,” you blink rapidly, nostrils flaring. “You killed them, Eddie. And you expect me to- to what? Think of this as some sort of gift? Dead people as a gift?”
Now, he’s angry. His face hardens, his jaw clenching. Eddie shakes his head like a disappointed father at you.
“Learn how to appreciate things that are done for you, (y/n).” he says loudly. “They deserve it. They’re bullies. And bullies need to be punished,” Like a switch, though, his anger morphs into exasperation. “Baby, you know I love you, right?”
You only stare at him with whimpers trying to escape your mouth.
Eddie grasps your face tighter, you wince. “You know that I love you?”
“Yes,” you breathe out, nodding rapidly. “Yes. I- I know.”
“Then let’s celebrate it, okay?” Eddie’s face moves closer to you, the tip of his nose brushing against yours. “No more bother, am I right?”
Letting out an exhale, you shake your head.
“Good,”
Eddie leans down to capture your lips on his own, feverishly and almost passionately. Your hands wrap around his wrist when he tilts your head back as he straightens his spine, his mouth venturing deeper to let his tongue wander inside.
He smells of dirt and sweat, with whoever’s blood around his neck. The surrounding thought of death continues to imprison your mind, but Eddie overpowers it. Now, it’s just Eddie, Eddie, blood, hunger, and Eddie.
You try not to moan when his lips break away from yours, kissing his way from your cheeks down to your jawline, littering heat ‘till he reaches that spot of yours he knows you love so much.
Eddie spins you around until the dip of your spine meets the countertop. Your hands grasp tightly at his shoulders, eyes fluttering as he sucks and bites at your sweet spot like it’s his breakfast, his hands leaving his face to clutch and grasp at the swell of your ass.
Your periphery shows you the blurred image of Dead Andy once more, but you’re starting not to care. Not when Eddie licks up at your salty skin. His fingers dance from your ass until he’s gripping your thighs and lifting you up to the counter.
“Fuck, uh, Eds,” conscience tells you what you’re doing is wrong. That moral doer of an angel whispering in your ear. You almost succumbed to her. But the devil tells you to keep going. Fulfill your fantasies. You’re already there.
He pulls away from your neck, leaving short kisses on your lips repetitively. “God- you’re so pretty,”
His bare hands start to wander everywhere. Eddie clutches at the end of your shirt, urging you to move your arms up and you do. He discards the bloody sweater and throws it somewhere.
“Do you trust me?” Eddie asks.
With your whole heart. You don’t know.
“Yeah,” you sigh against him.
His hand moves behind him and pulls something shiny out. You frown at it.
“Is that my dad’s knife? Eddie, I told you—”
“I know, I know,” he chuckles. “Just wanted to have some fun, baby. Don’t worry, I’ll clean it.”
The weapon still had blood on it, dripping down to the handle, the curved tip, slick with crimson substance. You wonder whose it is.
He’s careful with it, making sure not to cut you with it, as his eyes wander over your bra. Eddie licks his lips at it, biting his bottom lip at the sight of the white lace that covers your ample tits.
“You gonna be a good girl for me?” he questions in a gentle susurration. You nod when you feel the wet knife drag down your stomach, a line of crimson painting your skin. “Words.”
“Yes,” Eddie looks at your wondrous gaze, cut short when the undulated tip dips inside your belly button and your head lulls back. “Y-yes,
Eddie’s knife, now owned by him from the sinful deed of murder, pulls away from your stomach to swim across your back, the cold spine of it pressing against your back, before the blade pushes up and cuts the fabric of your bra with ease.
“Oh, yeah, that's it,” he chuckles. “Look at your pretty tits babe.”
You don’t look at them. You look at his mesmerized look, watching him lean down to take a nipple into his mouth. You gasp, the hand that helps you prop yourself up the counter now grasping his damp curls, tugging at it, which elicits a groan from him.
He sucks at your buds, until they’re puckered and hard, ticklish when he blows air onto them. When he treats the other tit with the same hunger, and they’re all kiss-swollen and sensitive, he squeezes them in his hands before he pulls away.
You lean forward and pull on the collar of his ‘costume’, your mouth heavily watering as it parts, the need for something to fill it up so strong. Eddie chuckles, flips the knife in his hand until the bloody blade sits in his open palm and the black handle comes up to rest on your tongue.
You could practically see his cock bulging out from the black robe that covers him. Eddie coos when your lips wrap around the handle, the flat of your tongue pressing up on it.
“Get on your knees, sweetheart,”
Immediately, you do. With death no longer prevailing in your mind, you fall to your knees, the ends of his robe meeting your thighs. Eddie's hands disappear behind his robe, and you watch him until you see it loosen and fall behind him to the ground.
“Oh my god, you’re not wearing any jeans?” you look up at him through your eyelashes.
“This robe is heavy and it’s hot. I would die first before I killed them,” he snickers. You pull on the band of his boxers, driving them down until his cock springs up and his swell tip slaps up his shirt.
Eddie almost rips his shirt apart, tossing it where his robe was. You spit down your hand, a glob of white down your palm before you wrap it around his shaft. He moans.
“A little tighter baby,” you squeeze and he sighs. “Yeah, that’s it. Put that mouth into good use, come on.”
With something pooling in the apex of your thighs, your mouth hovers over his head, and you engulf its thickness into your mouth and suck. Both your hands pump him in a tight grasp, which makes his ass clench and buck up in your mouth that you gag at the sudden impact of his tip hitting the back of your throat.
You pull out and gasp, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his dick, your lipstick smudged all over his veiny base. You blink away the tears from your eyelashes, Eddie’s hands on top of your head but not forcing you down on him.
“Let me fuck your face, princess,” he pleads. “Relax your throat and let me do it, ‘kay?”
Your jaw practically unhinges, his musk heavily filling your nose that meets the tush of curls above his cock when he goes all the way in. Eddie moans a bit louder, the salty precum leaking down your loosened throat. His thrusts are slow, and albeit his previous aggression, he’s calm with the way he fucks your mouth dumb.
Hands greedy, they search for his heavy sack full of cum and play with them, unable to jerk his length when it’s deep in your mouth. Eddie laughs out a groan, his throbbing head twitching against your tongue, his thighs shaking and his hips involuntarily bucking again.
“Fuck, yeah, that’s it,” he cards his fingers through your hair, pushing it back until it’s wrapped in his hand like a makeshift ponytail. Your cheeks enclose around him, the lewd wet sounds of his slick cock being lathered by your tongue and saliva accompanied by his moans, your gags, and your humming.
You tug on his balls, cupping the squishy, loose flesh. You breathe in his spirituous scent, looking at him like you’d been praying to Hades; nothing but pliant as his dick names you stupid.
And Eddie—Eddie looks down at you like you’re the most precious thing he’s seen, awaiting to be corrupted but he thinks you already have been.
He keeps pulling out and fucking back in until real tears pour down your cheeks. Your lips all swollen and inflamed from the rough friction, eyes cockdrunk he’s amused with this sight of you all used up beneath him.
“Look at you, such a slut,” he coos, a soft tsk from his tongue. Two of his fingers tap your sucked cheeks as he continues to thrust into your face. Your head shakes as you take him deeper, smiling wickedly around him, teeth grazing lightly on his skin but fuck does he love it. “H-holy shit. Oh, god—”
His stomach clenches, his happy trail slick with sweat. It’s a telltale sign that he’s close and you keep on letting him fuck your face like it’s your dripping cunt. You suck his cock with every fiber being that builds you, until Eddie’s yelling and loud with his moan as he spills in your mouth.
That hot, pearlescent seed of his falls down your throat, its saltiness makes you mewl, swallowing every bit of his spent. Eddie’s hips stutter into your mouth, spurting and spurting until his dick aches and he pulls out.
“You alright?” his hands massage the sides of your neck, thumbs rubbing your throat. “Didn’t hurt, did it?”
“No,” you sigh. “Now come and fuck me, Ghostface. I’m tired of all this foreplay thing.”
Eddie laughs at your impatience, hands bunching up the fabric of your underwear before he rips it apart. Then he lifts you back up onto the counter, his knees nudging your legs apart, the slickness of your pussy dribbling down to the table.
“You and your inability to wait and have fun, sweetheart,” he leans down to kiss you, though it's more like wet pecks that litter across your head. “You’re taking the fun away,”
You pout. He kisses it again. “This whole thing is taking too long. Just— Eddie!”
“Okay, okay,” he grabs a hold of his cock, the other tight on the dips of your waist. “I got you, babe.”
He slaps his still sensitive tip on your clit, sending jolts of pleasure that shivers from your heat to your back down to your legs. You whine softly, bucking your hips forward, until Eddie finally slips his head in your tight hole.
When he pushes in and finally settles deep inside your warm cunt, you feel full. In the way you wanted to be filled. You forget the fact that your boyfriend—who’s cockdeep inside your cunt—has killed someone and left them tied up at your backyard and now you’re having sex.
You don’t care. It’s been your plan all along anyway.
Eddie’s tip meets your cervix through a rough, blissful stab. He doesn't start slow like what he did with your mouth; no, he's brutal. Unforgiving with his bloodthirsty hip snapping. You moan loudly at each thrust, your nails scraping along his back.
You see the blood splattered across his tattoos, like his cloak had been futile at its attempt to keep his sacred body clean. The demon sure brought itself to life, dripping down to his hip and smeared across his bone, and Eddie never looked more alluring.
The bright lights of the kitchen adds a sheen layer of pandemonium that splits between risqué endeavors; it exudes sex in the way that can only enthrall you, Eddie’s mind gone to mayhem from all that pent up emotions.
Cunt squelching from that wetness created by the taste of his cum still swimming on your tongue, you leave marks on his skin like he’s your art. Bloodied and bruised up Eddie should be everyone’s worst nightmare, you think. He’s karma brought to life.
With his blinding thrusts, you don’t notice him picking up his knife again, only to drag its crooked tip right on the soft column of your neck that’s covered in hickies. You smile a little, too drunk on the feeling of Eddie’s cock going in and out of your silky sex.
“What are you doing?” you pant, hands lazily wrapping around his neck. “You gonna slit my throat open?”
“Nah, babe,” his tongue pokes out in concentration, dragging the flat belly of the knife across. “Just gonna nick you for the hell of it. Just—”
There’s a shling sound of a sharp knife piercing lightly through your skin. From the kiss of the knife, you moan painfully, your hand wrapping around Eddie’s neck subconsciously as the searing affliction ricochets in a rapture whirlwind down your spine.
Eddie exclaims in pride; you feel the blood drip down your skin, pulsing and extravasating coldness. He slopes and presses the flat of his tongue to lap up at your thick ichor, mewling at your taste the same time you gasp out silent screams at his relentless fucking.
“You taste so fucking amazing,” he murmurs against your now blood-deluged flesh. Eddie consumes it all. “Wish I could just fucking carve my name onto you.”
You clench tight onto him, like you’re sucking him into you. Eddie’s eyes roll to the back of his head.
“Oh- oh, she likes that, doesn’t she?”
“Do that—shit, oh!– do that next t-time,” you giggle onto his hair that you clutch like a vice, his hot tongue continues swimming arousal down your split cunt.
His skin slapping against yours sounded like a hypnotizing siren, which kind of ameliorates the bawdiness of the shlick sounds of your pussy engulfing his luxuriant dick.
Eddie stabs the knife down on the countertop, places a hand behind you and the other wrapped around your sweaty waist and fucks you into oblivion. Your moans become carnally loud, enough to drive the neighbors away but also enough to appease your boyfriend.
And at each thrust—everytime he pulls you down to meet his hips—your orgasm protrudes on you like a knife. Closer and closer until it’s deep into your flesh and almost peeking out of your epidermis. You mewl into Eddie’s ear.
“I’m gonna cum,” you choke out. “Fuck– don’t– don’t stop. Don’t stop, don't stop, don't stop.”
Shameless, mimicked wails of ecstasy, cascading into soft ‘uhs’ when your lips dance across his earlobe. Eddie wedges his thumb between the place that leaves him wondering where he starts and where he ends, rubs your bundle of nerves that has been grinding against his coarse pubes in perpetuity.
“Gonna cum for me, sweetheart?” he grunts against your temple. “Go–shit–a-and cum for me, baby. Come on. Be a good girl and cum,”
Obeying him, you gush all over his sensitive cock that spills inside your trembling walls. Your hips stutter in the air, clenching, cunt guzzing all of his spunk. Eddie lets out one last moan before he slumps against you, his curls sticking to your skin.
You pull away, finally meeting Eddie’s usual wide, baby brown eyes full of wonder and excitement. “Hi.”
“Hi sweetheart,” Eddie kisses your cheek. “You did amazing, babe,” while he doesn't pull out, he does pull his hand out for a high five. Your palm meets his. “Love the crying bit, by the way. You could be in, like, a Stanley Kubrick film.”
Eddie pushes your hair behind your ears and leaves a peck on your lips as he swipes the sweat away.
“You said you wanted the roleplay to be convincing,” you argue playfully. “I seriously don’t like how you touched my dad’s collection, Eds,”
“It was for a good cause,” his cock softens inside you, and so does Eddie. “Baby, I didn’t scare you, did I?”
“Not at all,” you wrap your arms lazily around his neck, brushing his hair. “We signed up for this, remember? Killing them has always been our plan before we left. We just added the sex thing to have some fun,”
“You’re right,” he nods, eyes squinting. “No porn film can exceed the greatness of our roleplay. The killer, and the helpless little lamb. Shit, that could be the title,”
“The Horny Killer, and The Sexy Little Lamb,”
“Better,” Eddie kisses your nose, you giggle. “Wanna see Jason and Chance’s bodies?”
-
A year ago, your patience had been bound tightly around your heart. You were understanding, kind; nothing but a vestibule of angelicum.
That is, until you met the devil that succumbed into your sinful desires.
Eddie wasn’t like this before. But truthfully, he actually did just snap. He let all his frustrations go—from watching the light leave someone’s eyes, to fucking you like there’s no tomorrow.
His van doors open, tossing Andy’s heavy body into the back, right between Jason and Chance’s horrifyingly mutilated bodies. All their skins pale and their eyes defunct. You place your hands on your hips.
“Where’s Patrick?” you ask him.
“He was nice. Didn’t have the heart to kill him,” he pouts, wrapping his arm around your back and kissing your temple. “I was thinking of hanging them at the gym tomorrow on the last day? Right before I kill Principal Higgins?”
“Sounds like a great idea,” you rest your head on his shoulder.
Originally, you only planned on roleplaying. No murder, no knives, no fright, no blood. But there’s no harm in going a little bit psycho with this whole sex extravaganza. Everyone had their own kinks.
You’re just lucky enough Eddie felt the same.
You pick up the mask and put it over your head, Eddie’s faint scent of cigarettes and alcohol burning your nose. “I get to wear this next time, right?”
“Of course,” Eddie smiles. “But, you get to carve your initials on me next time.”
“Deal.”
reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated ♡
#eddie munson one shot#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson smut#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson angst#eddie munson fic#eddie munson fanfiction#ghostface!eddie#eddie munson#stranger things x reader#stranger things smut
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𝐋𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐎𝐮𝐭
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jason todd x gn!reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: the power goes out, and reader gets a visitor.
𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 883
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: not really. reader has a job, reader leaves a door unlocked.
𝐀/𝐍: idk how/why i wrote this but here it is
Your phone pressed between your shoulder and your tilted head, you type away at your computer. If this assignment isn’t finished by tomorrow, your boss is going to be at your throat.
“Did you hear me, Y/n?”
You blink. Had Jason said anything? You tear your eyes from your screen, looking outside the window. The rain is still pouring, a flash of lightning appearing every few minutes. You turn your attention back to your computer.
“No, sorry. Can you repeat what you said?”
“I said that you should probably take a break. I’m about to go to bed, and we both know that it’s not normal for me to sleep before you.”
You nibble at your bottom lip. You still have plenty of work to do. No way you can stop now.
“I don’t know, Jay. There’s still so much I need to cover.”
“Just take a break. You need to refresh your mind and breathe a little.”
Your eyes ghosted over what you have down, silently checking for typos and grammar mistakes. Seeing none, you check what else you need. Honestly, not much. Roughly two paragraphs of work, you should be finished in less than twenty minutes, with the editing and stuff you’ll need to do.
“I’ll almost finish soon anyways, no point.”
You could hear rustling on his end, like he was getting into bed. He sighs.
“Don’t overwork yourself.”
“I’m not going to. Besides-“
You’re cut off as the entire room goes dark. You gasp, tapping different buttons on the computer. You then stand and peak outside the window. The apartment complex across from yours also seems to have gone out of power.
“What happened?”
Your boyfriend’s voice comes through the phone. You hope up and try the light switch, groaning when it doesn’t work.
“The storm cut the power. Same with the people across the road.”
He hums in acknowledgement on the other line. You make quick work of finding your candle cabinet, placing them around the apartment before looking for your lighter. You stumble over your own feet on your way to the kitchen, thumping on your side.
“What was that?”
Jason’s voice cuts through, laced with concern. He always worried about you. Props of being a Wayne, you guessed.
“I can’t see, tripped on my own feet. I’m fine.”
You stand, getting back to the kitchen and searching the drawers.
“I’m coming over.”
You can hear more rustling on his end. You smile. Of course he is, you could’ve lost your favorite movie DVD and he’d be on his way. You hear a zipper. Probably his leather jacket.
“Alright. I’m just looking for my lighter so that I can light my candles and have light sources.”
Once you find your lighter, you make a small noise of triumph. As your neck starts to cramp, you grab your phone to put the call on speaker. Nothing happens when you tap the screen or when you press the power button. Oh, it died.
You sigh, exasperated. Such a night. You can’t finish your project for work, your phone dies so you can’t communicate with the world, you can feel your apartment grow more cold since the heaters off, and all of your candles are about to be used up. You hope Jason shows up soon, so that you don’t wait for long. Also so that he doesn’t get pneumonia, since he prefers riding his bike over his car.
Once all the candles are lighted, you make your way to your bedroom. You slip into a sweater and crawl under the duvet. You had unlocked your door, knowing you wouldn’t want to get up to open it for Jason. Hopefully it’ll actually be your boyfriend opening the door, rather than some random person.
He didn’t take long. You hear the door open, and soon footsteps tread through your apartment. They stop behind your bedroom door, which slowly opens to reveal a familiar face. You smile at him, and he smiles back.
“You shouldn’t leave the door unlocked.”
“I knew you were coming, and I didn’t feel like getting back up into the cold to open the door.”
He shakes his head, kicking off his shoes and taking off his jacket.
“It’s still dangerous, Y/n. What if it hadn’t been me?”
“I knew you would’ve beaten whoever came in, since you were on the way.”
He climbs into bed beside you, pulling you against his chest. He sighs, wishing you’d be more careful. You cuddle up to him, wanting to sap up his warmth.
“At least you can sleep now. You wouldn’t have if you still had access to your computer.”
You frown.
“My boss is gonna be so mad.”
“Well, it wasn’t your fault. Tell him the truth, your power went out.”
One of Jason’s hands curl into your hair, gently massaging your head. You sigh, melting against him.
“Fine.”
He smiles, pleased.
“Now sleep. I can tell you’re tired.”
You swallow, pressing your cheek against his chest. He was warmth in the cold. Your own little heater. Your eyes close, and he lets out a content sigh as he closes his eyes as well. He makes sure you fall asleep before he does, so that you don’t try getting up to do the work while he’s out cold. Hypocrite.
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teeth
pairing: park sunghoon x fem!reader
synopsis: if you had known that talking to sunghoon at a club would lead to watching him kill the people you love, would you still talk to him?
genre: thriller (?), strangers to lovers
featuring: enhypen, yunjin, sakura, and chaewon of lsfm, yeonjun of txt, winter of aespa.
warnings: death. lots of death, murder scenes that arent graphic but still descriptive, lots of mentions of blood, attempted sexual assault, mentions of sexual assault, physical abuse, mentions of stalking, sunghoon and all of enhypen are literally murderers so… profanity, toxic relationship lol, sunghoon possessive as hell he’s crazy, sunghoon punches yeonjun a couple times, mentions of a knife. lmk if i missed anything!
word count: 18.5k
author’s note, jakehands comeback and its with an 18k psychotic murderer sunghoon fic. blame enhypen’s concept film and daphne. this is heavily unedited so please ugnore any mistakes idk if i can be bothered to read through this. also PLEASE read the warnings. please im begging you. also i call winter by her real name “minjeong” in thjs fic because…actually idk why. i just wrote it like that. u will also see many cameos of other idols that arent included in the featured and the reason for that is bcs the featured people are more Important and have dialouge! anyway. enjoy😍 and Read The Warnings.
You weren’t a frequent partygoer. You often preferred staying at home and watching whatever videos popped up on your Youtube Recommended. You usually watch Youtube video after Youtube video before you end up passing out with your phone reaching the 20% battery warning. You found comfort in the familiarity of your Youtube algorithm. But going to clubs? That was a whole other side of the world you didn’t want to touch.
How unfortunate it was, for you, to have a friend like Huh Yunjin. She was everything you weren’t; popular, friendly, a social butterfly, and a total partygoer -- if there was a party nearby, Yunjin was there. She loved parties, she loved alcohol, and she loved making out with girls and boys. Yunjin also enjoyed dragging you to said parties.
So, there you were. Standing in a club with Yunjin to your left and a girl named Sakura to your right. You had only met her a couple of minutes ago, but you were already enjoying her company. She had big eyes, kind of like the cat you had when you were younger. Her smile was extremely pretty so it was no wonder Yunjin always tried her hardest to make Sakura smile.
Sakura was in her last year of college. Soon, thanks to Jessica Day, she’ll have a teaching degree. Sakura was fun to talk to, and Yunjin made sure to include you in any conversation she had with a new face, but you still felt awkward and out of place in a club full of drunk college students clearly having the time of their lives.
“Didn’t you hear?” Sakura exclaims next to you. She was talking to Kim Chaewon. You know of her -- softball captain, an SM Town model, and she moves through guys quicker than you expected.
“Hear what?”
“They found Jaehyun’s body,” Sakura says.
You find yourself more interested in Sakura and Chaewon’s conversation than the one Yunjin was trying to insert you in with another one of her friends named Somi. Jaehyun was the soccer team’s captain for your college. He was also in his final year, and he was getting ready to lead the soccer team to victory at the upcoming championship in a few months. Last week, Jaeyun went missing.
“They found his body?” Chaewon gasps. “Where?”
“Down by the lake,” Sakura responds.
Chaewon gasps again. This eggs Sakura on, her voice dropping and you strain to hear the words she says over the loud booming music filling the club. “He was stabbed twenty-one times,” is all you could hear Sakura say.
You stand straight and push yourself away from the wall you were leaning against. “I’m going to the bathroom,” you tell Yunjin, ducking to whisper it into her ear.
“Oh!” Her untoned blonde hair shifts as she faces you, “do you want me to come with? It’s probably better if I come with --”
“I’ll be okay.”
Yunjin narrows her eyes. “Are you sure? You do know about the recent murders, right?”
You give Yunjin a smile. “I’ll be okay.”
Yunjin purses her lips. “Call me if you get into any trouble, okay?”
You roll your eyes and back away from Yunjin and her little group of friends. “Okay, mom.”
You push your way through the crowded dance floor to reach the other side of the club. Yunjin was telling you all about this club on the ride over. It was a popular club, usually filled up to its maximum capacity fifteen minutes after the club’s doors opened. You could attest to that statement as the line you saw when you arrived at the club was already pretty long.
Since the club was a popular hotspot for young adults, every face you saw was a familiar face. People like Choi Yeonjun and Hwang Hyunjin, two of the most popular dancers on your campus, had taken over the dance floor. Girls and guys flocked to the pair of them like magnets and as you watched them move effortlessly on the dance floor, you couldn’t help but wonder if they were exhausted.
Then, in the corner of the club, tucked away in a booth with cocktails in hand, sat Yuna and Lia, their eyes peering out into the crowded club and giggling as they conversed with each other in between taking sips of their drinks. They were clearly gossiping as their eyes focused on Mark Lee flirting with Choi Yena.
You duck into the hallway leading you to the bathroom. Here, it was less crowded and the music sounded further away. You could finally hear yourself breathe, and you could hear your footsteps. Pushing open the door to the female’s bathroom, you’re met with the sight of a small line beginning to form.
You smile at the girls in front of you and take your place beside them, resting on the wall beside the hand dryer. Fishing out your phone, you text Yunjin to let her know you reached the bathroom safely, before switching over to Candy Crush.
You’re able to get to a stall in no time, and as you exit the stall, feeling a bit lighter, you’re shoved to the side as a girl with her hand covering her mouth and her friends all rush into the stall. The sound of retching echoes around the bathroom. You step up to the sink and wash your hands when someone nudges your shoulder.
“Here,” Bae Sumin hands you her mascara. She’s friends with Yunjin, that’s how you know her. “You should probably retouch your mascara. Have you been wiping your eyes?”
You look in the mirror. Your mascara was slightly smudged and you smile at Sumin. “Oh, I didn’t realize.”
Sumin smiles. “Girls help girls.”
You hand Sumin back her mascara after touching up your eyelashes and you exit the bathroom, adjusting the length of your black cocktail dress so it covers more of your thighs when you bump into something hard.
You squeak and stumble back, raising your head to see a person standing in front of you. His eyes are dark and his face is hardened. Not a single emotion escapes from the male figure in front of you and your stomach drops. There’s a sinister aura clouding him and your heartbeat quickens. “S-sorry,” you stutter meekly, your eyes dropping to your feet.
“It’s okay,” his voice is warm. It contrasts his appearance; icy face, black clothes, and eyes that raise goosebumps. “You should look where you’re going next time. Especially in a club like this.”
You glance up and smile at the male in front of you. “I’ll remember that.”
“I should probably apologize as well,” the male says after some thought, “I’m in a bit of a rush so I didn’t see you. So, sorry, are you okay?”
Instead of your heart dropping to your gut, it begins to flutter.
Your cheeks redden. “Oh. I’m okay. Seriously. And you don’t need to apologize!”
There’s a whisper of a smile on the male’s face. “Alright. Enjoy the rest of your night, and stay safe.”
Your eyes follow the male as he rushes past you. “You too!” You call out, your heart racing.
After gaining no response, you compose yourself and step back out into the club. Everything is the same as it was before; Lia and Yuna gossiping in the corner, Mark flirting with Yena, and Yeonjun and Hyunjin owning the dance floor.
Yunjin makes eye contact with you as you approach the small space Yunjin and her friends occupy against the wall of the club. She beams as you and all the nervousness and awkwardness filling your body float away. Maybe going to clubs and partying wasn’t so bad.
—-
You groan and let your head drop onto the desk beneath you. The first lecture of the day just ended and even though you thought you were prepared for the course, this upcoming assignment proves how wrong you were. You would never be prepared for any of the assignments your creative writing class has.
Standing, you exit the classroom with your ears still ringing. After Yunjin had pulled you onto the dance floor, you found yourself dancing alongside Yeonjun. You allowed the older to put his hands on your hips as he guided you through the songs playing in the club and you found yourself having fun -- a lot more fun than you usually would have curled up on your bed watching Youtube video after Youtube video. As you think back to last night, you also remember the way your skin crawled with the feeling of someone watching you, but when you looked over your shoulder, you couldn’t see anyone.
Shuddering, you step into the sun and begin your brisk walk over to the cafe where you regularly meet up with Yunjin after lectures. It was probably nothing. Since you were having so much fun last night, maybe your brain had decided to try and drag you back down into the pits of distaste and regret of entering unknown territory.
Entering the cafe, you smile at the barista and join Yunjin at your usual table. She was hunched over a piece of paper in front of you, her eyebrows drawn together. “Why are you staring at the paper like that?” You ask, digging around in your shoulder bag.
“I’m writing lyrics,” Yunjin replies.
“With your mind?”
“I wish,” Yunjin groans, leaning back on the chair.
You giggle and power up your laptop. At the same time, the cafe door jingles open and a breeze rushes through the room. Someone laughs loudly and your attention is drawn to the group of boys entering the cafe.
Yunjin’s eyes widen and she sits straight in her chair. “No way. They come to this cafe too?”
You realize who the group of boys were -- Lee Heeseung, Park Jay, Sim Jake, and Park Sunghoon. They’re part of a larger group of seven. Often, whenever you mentioned the university you were attending to outsiders, immediately they thought of that group of seven. If your university was mentioned, seven names would be mentioned after.
You don’t know much about the group. They keep to themselves and never mingle outside of their small social circle. You don’t really see them around campus that much, but you are aware of how all of them excel in academics. You’re aware that Sim Jake is on the soccer team. You’re aware Lee Heeseung is on the ice hockey team, and you’re aware Park Sunghoon was a former figure skater.
Park Sunghoon.
Your eyes pass over the taller male and a realization strikes you. His handsome face; his cold aura; his silver hair and full lips -- you bumped into him at the club. You shrink in your seat and hang your head, muttering profanity.
Your cheeks flush when you think of his warm voice, and the gentle look in his eyes when he apologized. The contrasting nature of Sunghoon surprises you. You never thought someone with such a cold face would have such a warm voice -- a warm heart.
“Yunjin,” you lean across the table, your voice quiet. “I bumped into Sunghoon last night. In the club.”
Yunjin’s jaw drops. “You did?! Why didn’t you tell me? He didn’t hurt you, did he? Did he try to murder you?”
“Huh?” You were confused. “Why would he want to murder me?”
“You haven’t heard the rumors?” Yunjin asks.
“Jen, I only come to campus for my lectures,” you remind her.
“Right. Anyway, there’s a rumor going around that Sunghoon’s the one doing all the murders. People think he’s some kind of psychopath.”
You raise your eyebrows and glance over at the group of four. Jake and Sunghoon are grinning as they tease Jay who stands between them. “Psychopath?”
“Sunghoon was apparently seen with Jaehyun before he was reported missing,” Yunjin explains. “And apparently someone saw Sunghoon washing blood off his hands in a public bathroom a couple of nights back.”
You hum and sit back in your chair. “I don’t think it was Sunghoon. He apologized to me last night even though I bumped into him.”
Yunjin purses her lips but doesn’t say anything. You glance back over at the four boys and you immediately make eye contact with the topic of your conversation. Park Sunghoon’s staring back at you, his face is stoic, and your heart tremors. You attempt a hesitant smile and Sunghoon’s the first to look away.
—-
A week later you end up outside an unfamiliar house. Beside you, Yunjin is talking to a girl named Kazuha and you’re left alone to look up at the mansion-like house in front of you. People are still swarming in and out of the house and you begin to feel claustrophobic even though you haven’t entered the house.
“Jay’s house,” a voice says behind you. Turning around, you smile at Ryujin. Lia and Yeji are standing behind Ryujin, bickering with Seungmin and Hyunjin but you pay them no mind. “The first party he’s thrown in a month. His parents banned parties in their family vacation house because of the last party. His parents are out of town for the next month, though, so Jay’s going to throw all the parties he can.”
“This is their vacation home? Why do they need a vacation home in Seoul even though they live in Seoul?” You gaze back at the house in amazement.
“Rich people,” Ryujin responds. “Filthy rich.”
Yunjin reaches out and grabs your forearm. She exchanges a few words with Ryujin and then you’re being pulled into the house. It was loud and overcrowded and everywhere you looked there was alcohol. Yunjin has to practically shout to talk to you, and the flashing party lights force you to squint as you look at the person talking to you.
Sakura was by your side once more and Chaewon was also there. Chaewon greets you with a smile and immediately launches back into her conversation with Sakura. With help from Sakura, you ease into their conversation and Yunjin shoves a plastic cup of some strong alcohol into your hand. You’ve only taken a sip and the bitter taste that spilled down your throat was an uncomfortable taste.
“Jaehyun’s death has been ruled a homicide,” Sakura was saying, deeply interested in Jaehyun’s case. “The police don’t have any leads, though, so it’s basically a cold case.”
“How do you know all this stuff?” You ask Sakura.
Sakura smiles and taps her ears. “I hear everything. I’m easy to miss in a room.”
“She’s like a mouse,” Chaewon giggles.
“A mouse draws attention,” you point out. “No one likes mice.”
“I’m a fly on the wall, then,” Sakura cuts in. “Whatever I am, I’m a professional eavesdropper and gossiper.”
“Yunjin was telling me about the Park Sunghoon rumor,” you decide to test the waters. Surely Sakura and Chaewon know more about these rumors than Yunjin. “Is he really a psychopath? Did he really kill Jaehyun?”
“Park Sunghoon,” Chaewon says, rolling her eyes. “I grew up with him.”
“He is a very cold person,” Sakura muses, sipping whatever was in her plastic cup.
“Sunghoon was an odd boy,” Chaewon continues. “I don’t think he has emotions. Or empathy. His sister broke her ankle and he forced her to walk home.”
“Really?” You gasp. Maybe, Park Sunghoon was a cold person with a cold heart.
“Even some of the lecturers are afraid of him,” Sakura says, her tone all-knowing. “That’s why he easily passes hard classes -- they’re all too afraid to fail him.”
“Sunghoon liked killing things when he was younger,” Chaewon says, scowling. “I caught him stabbing a large rat and then opening up that rat.” Chaewon shudders. “The look on his face when he caught me still haunts me to this day.”
“Sunghoon also has a temper,” Sakura adds, “I’ve heard from people he’s done group projects with, that he threatened them all if they didn’t do his part of the project for him.”
You begin to feel queasy. The Park Sunghoon you’re hearing about from the people around you isn’t the Park Sunghoon you encountered all those nights ago. The Park Sunghoon you encountered was warm. He has a warm voice, and his apology was warm.
You down the rest of the alcohol in your plastic cup even though you don’t like the taste. “I need to pee,” you excuse yourself from Chaewon and Sakura and begin walking aimlessly. It would be nice if you were able to find a bathroom, but this house seems to be endless -- everywhere you walk, there are people dancing and kissing. Everywhere you walk, there is alcohol and familiar faces.
Eventually, you find some stairs and make your way up to the second floor. You pad down the hallway, the music still present but a lot more muffled. Aimlessly, you twist and turn through the maze of a hallway and eventually end up in an empty hallway.
Leaning against the wall behind you, you hang your head in your hands. All you can think about is the way Sunghoon’s eyes slightly softened when he apologized to you, and the gentle way he spoke to you when he apologized. You felt like you were going insane.
You hear quick footsteps approaching your empty hallway and you stiffen, your heart racing beneath your ribs. A familiar face rounds the corner and your face softens into a smile. Lee Jaeho was in your sociology class. He was kind to you, and always helped you study for the upcoming exams.
Jaeho seemed to be a bit dazed though. He wasn’t walking straight and when he saw you, a bright smile broke out across his face. His words slur together when he greets you and pulls you into a hug, and you know he’s off his face drunk.
“I was looking for you!” Jaeho slurs as he pulls out of the hug, still gripping to your shoulders. “I was told you were in the bathroom but I couldn’t find you! I got so worried, Y/N.”
“Ah, I’m sorry,” you apologize with a gentle smile.
“It’s okay,” Jaeho grips your hand in his and pulls you down the hallway.
“Where are we going, Jaeho?”
“We need some privacy.”
Your heart races. “Oh. Why?”
Jaeho pulls open a door and pushes you inside. The door closes and Jaeho rests his back against the door. Your hands sweat and you rub them against your skirt. “Jaeho?” You ask, unsure. “Why are we in a room?”
“Y/N,” Jaeho sounds sure of himself, even if he’s slurring his words. “I like you. I’ve liked you ever since we first talked in Freshman year.”
“Oh,” you feel speechless, “thank you for telling me, Jaeho.”
“You like me back, don’t you?”
“Oh,” you feel taken aback.
“I see the way you look at me.” Jaeho takes a step closer and you take a step back.
“What way do I look at you, Jaeho?”
Jaeho smiles but it’s a different smile. The smell of alcohol invades the room and your breath hitches. “You look at me like you want me, Y/N. I want you to.”
The back of your knees hit the bed behind you and you fall back onto the bed. Jaeho hovers over you and you feel helpless. “Jaeho,” you don’t know what to say. “I don’t like you like that. I think you’re a nice friend --”
“Don’t fucking say that shit,” Jaeho growls. Within a few seconds, his whole demeanor changes and your helplessness turns into fear. He pushes you further back onto the bed and climbs on top. Instantly, your fight or flight response kicks in.
You squirm about on the bed as Jaeho tries to keep you still. Your legs kick up and you shake your head from side to side. “Let go of me, Jaeho,” you beg, your eyes burning.
“Stop moving,” Jaeho hisses, his hands squeezing your arms tightly.
You cry out. “Jaeho --”
One of Jaeho’s hands curls around your throat and you can’t breathe. You attempt to gasp for air but it's pointless. Your legs still kick and your free hand tries to pull Jaeho’s hand away from your throat. Your eyes burn and tears begin to trail down the side of your face.
“You’re such a fucking bitch,” Jaeho groans.
Jaeho loosens his hand from restricting your right hand to the bed and you take this second of freedom to slap Jaeho across the face. Since he’s drunk, his motor movement is unbalanced. His grip loosens around your throat in shock and you use both of your hands to push Jaeho away.
You scramble off the bed and race over to the door.
“Y/N --” Jaeho calls your name. He grabs your wrist as you go to tug open the door.
“Let go of me,” you hiss, anger overtaking the fear.
“Y/N -- I’m sorry -- I --” Jaeho stumbles over his apology, the alcohol influencing his words and actions.
Turning back around, you see red and backhand Jaeho across the face. His head turns sharply to the side and his cheek begins to bleed -- the rings on your fingers must’ve cut into his skin from how hard you backhanded him.
Jaeho turns to look at you and fear replaces the anger you were feeling previously. With a racing heart, you tug open the door and race down the hallway, Jaeho calling your name as he follows you out. Tears stream down your face as you try to find your way back to the party. Maybe you should’ve asked Yunjin to take you to the bathroom.
Impulsively, you open a door leading to another room and dive inside, shutting the door behind you. You slump against the wall beside the door and cover your mouth with your hand as Jaeho goes charging past the room. Your chest rises and falls rapidly and you can’t stop the tears.
You don’t know how long you spend in the dark room, your hand pressed to your mouth to muffle your whimpers, when the door opens suddenly. Your hand falls away from your mouth and you whimper as you fall away from the wall.
The silence is loud and you slowly look up, hoping who you see isn’t Jaeho but Yunjin.
Park Sunghoon stands above you, frowning. “Y/N?”
Your hands cover your face as you break out into sobs. Relief floods your body. You’re glad that it wasn’t Jaeho who opened that door, but Sunghoon -- who is perceived as a psychopathic murderer and you should probably feel even more afraid, but you don’t. Because facing a suspected murderer is better than being assaulted at the hands of a friend.
Hands gently pull your own away from your face. A finger tilts your chin up and you’re looking at Sunghoon again. He’s crouching in front of you, his eyes soft. His thumbs press against your cheeks and brush away the tears streaming down your cheeks. You feel warm in Sunghoon’s presence.
“Y/N,” Sunghoon says your name again. “What happened?” His voice is light. It’s not like Jaeho’s tough and demanding tone.
You only shake your head and cry some more in response. You can still feel the phantom squeeze of Jaeho’s hands on your throat.
The fingers curled around your chin tighten ever so slightly. “Y/N,” Sunghoon’s voice is deeper and a bit demanding -- like Jaeho’s voice moments before, but you don’t feel scared, you still feel safe. “Tell me what happened.”
You inhale sharply and focus on Sunghoon’s face. His eyes are no longer soft, instead, they’re the familiar darkness you saw when you first met him. His lips are screwed into a straight line. His face is cold, but his hands and his heart are warm. “Jaeho,” you whisper. “He --” gently, your hand brushes against your neck. “He strangled me.”
Sunghoon doesn’t say anything. His hands slip away from your face and he rises to his feet. “Your friends are worried about you, Y/N. Let’s go back to the party.” You take his outstretched hand and stand. You wipe away the last of your tears and follow Sunghoon out of the room.
“Did Jaeho do anything else?” Sunghoon asks. You have to quicken your pace to keep up with Sunghoon’s long strides. He easily moves through the house which reminds you that he’s friends with the owner of this house.
You don’t say anything in response to Sunghoon. Should you tell him or not? Would he believe you or not? Would he excuse Jaeho’s actions by saying he was drunk and drunk people don’t know what they’re doing?
“Y/N,” Sunghoon interrupts your thoughts. “I asked you a question.”
“He didn’t do anything else,” you say quietly.
Sunghoon huffs and grips your shoulders, forcing you to stop walking. The two of you stand in the middle of the dark hallway, Sunghoon’s face close to yours as he bends down to meet your eyes. “Are you sure?”
“Why do you care so much?” You retort, curiosity finally appearing through the fear you felt. Why did Sunghoon care so much about you? And what Jaeho did to you? You don’t even know Sunghoon. You just know he attends your college and hangs out with six other boys. (You also know about the rumors, but you don’t care for them because Sunghoon’s shown he’s not the psychopathic murderer the rumors say he is.)
“Because no man should ever lay his hands on a woman,” was Sunghoon’s response. “So, I’ll ask you again. Did Jaeho do anything else?”
Sunghoon’s eyes shine with intent -- he meant what he said. You find some kind of relief looking into Sunghoon’s eyes, you would have someone on your side. “Jaeho, he -- he said he liked me, and then he --” you break off your sentence and shrug. You can’t seem to force the bitter words out of your mouth. He almost forced me to have sex with him.
“I understand,” Sunghoon says in response. He turns away, but you catch his hand.
“You won’t tell anyone, will you?” You ask Sunghoon.
“Do you want me to?”
You shake your head. “Please don’t tell anyone. Don’t tell my friends. Can you keep this between us? Please?” Your eyes are wide as you beg Sunghoon, and you grip his hand tightly. You really don’t want anyone finding out about what happened between you and Jaeho.
Sunghoon smiles softly. “I’ll take it to my grave, Y/N.”
“Thank you, Sunghoon,” you sigh in relief.
“There’s no need to thank me yet, Y/N,” Sunghoon hums. “Which Jaeho are we talking about, by the way?”
“Lee Jaeho,” you descend the stairs leading to the party with Sunghoon. The music sounds louder than it was before. “He was in our Freshman sociology class.”
“I hated that class,” Sunghoon grumbles.
You giggle and Sunghoon’s eyes light up.
—-
The morning after, you exit your lecture with your phone buzzing away in your pocket. Jaeho had been trying to contact you all day, and now that it was late afternoon, you were beginning to grow tired of his spam messages.
Scowling, you reach into your pocket and pull out your phone. Jaeho’s messages fill up your lock screen and as you scroll through all his messages to try and find a worthwhile notification, the glare of the sun fades away.
“Y/N.”
Looking up, Sunghoon is standing in the way of the sun beaming down on you. “Sunghoon,” you were surprised to find the male outside your lecture. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to see you,” Sunghoon responds easily. “Where are you going now?”
“To the cafe on campus. I usually meet up with Yunjin there after all our lectures are finished,” you explain to Sunghoon as he falls into step beside you.
“I’ll walk you there,” Sunghoon says, smiling softly.
Your heart flutters.
“Has Jaeho tried to talk to you?” Sunghoon asks.
Your smile is tight. “He’s been messaging me all day. It’s getting annoying.”
“Will you hear him out?”
“Fuck no. I’ll never forgive him for what he did, even if he was drunk.”
“Being drunk is no excuse, Y/N,” Sunghoon says.
You hum. “Yeah. How do you even know who I am, anyway?” You look at Sunghoon eagerly, the curiosity within you brimming. Ever since Sunghoon uttered your name last night, you had been curious -- how did Sunghoon know who you were? And why did he care this badly about you? It wasn’t like you were in the same circle as him. You’ve been holed up in your dorm for most of your college life, and the one time you go out to party, you somehow get involved with Park Sunghoon.
Sunghoon laughs like you just asked him an incredibly bizarre question. “Y/N, we had classes together freshman year. Don’t you remember?”
“Of course I remember!” You splutter, your cheeks heating up. “I didn’t expect you to remember.”
Sunghoon raises an eyebrow. “You’re not easy to forget, Y/N.”
It’s like you forget how to function. You’re not easy to forget. Who just says that? You can’t breathe and you can’t feel your heart beating. Your fingers feel numb and your stomach is an ocean of butterflies. And this is all because of Sunghoon. The so-called psychotic murderer.
“You can’t just say that, Sunghoon!” You exclaim, your cheeks heating up.
Sunghoon shrugs. “It’s true. You were the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen -- still the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”
(Sunghoon’s words were driving you crazy -- why? Because it’s been two years since your last relationship. Having someone talk about you like this is only furthering your growing infatuation with the taller, brooding boy.)
“I was always jealous whenever you talked to other guys.”
“Excuse me?” You were taken aback by this piece of news. Sunghoon was jealous? Back in freshman year?
“I wanted to be the one you talked to,” Sunghoon admits with ease. “I wanted all of your attention.”
You truly don’t know what to think. Sunghoon’s words are driving you crazy. There’s so much to take in. There’s so much to discover you probably won’t sleep at all tonight.
“Oh, we’re here,” Sunghoon doesn’t sound too happy. It’s a shame your heart feels the same way. You don’t want to leave Sunghoon’s side, but from the way Yunjin’s looking at you from inside the cafe, you won’t be allowed to ditch this hangout.
“Thank you for walking me, Sunghoon,” you say. “It was nice talking to you.”
“Likewise. Do you have my number?”
Seriously. Sunghoon never fails to surprise you.
“No.”
“Do you want my number?”
You pull out your phone in lieu of a response.
“Text or call me if you see Jaeho,” Sunghoon says, waving goodbye after you exchange numbers. “I’ll answer right away.”
You snort and Sunghoon frowns. “I’m serious, Y/N.”
You hate how his words warm you.
“See you around, Sunghoon.”
“Definitely,” Sunghoon grins and you step into the cafe, exhaling deeply.
—-
An alumnus of your university was found dead in the alleyway beside your dorm building. His name was Taeyong. You remember him as the senior that always vaped during his lectures. He was a nice guy, though, always ready to help out anyone who asked for help.
You can’t help but shiver every time you pass by the crime scene all taped up with yellow tape hindering anyone from entering the scene. It’s been a few days since Sunghoon walked you to the cafe -- that was also the day Taeyon was killed. His time of death was put at around 11:30 PM. His death has also been ruled as a homicide.
You’ve been texting Sunghoon often. Most of the texts are short and dry, but seeing Sunghoon’s text notifications amidst all of Jaeho’s makes your heart leap in excitement. Anything to do with Sunghoon sends your heart into overdrive after his smooth talking a couple of days back.
Other than Sunghoon’s texts brightening your day, you’ve been on edge walking back to your dorm in the late hours of the evening. You can’t help but feel like someone’s watching you walk back to your dorm. Your spine always tingles and your heartbeat is loud in your ears as you walk home. You don’t listen to music anymore, opting to stay alert in case you’re the next victim of whoever is killing the students who attend your university.
“You’re still talking to Sunghoon?” Yunjin asks, peering over your shoulder as you text Sunghoon while you were both at the cafe.
“Yep.”
“He’s a murderer, Y/N.”
You snort and glance at Yunjin. “It’s rumored he’s a murderer. I don’t understand why anyone would listen to what comes out of Minjeong’s mouth anyway. She’s always talking bullshit.”
“Y/N…” Yunjin sighs.
“I know,” you reply softly. “But I’m fine. Seriously. Sunghoon treats me nicely. You don’t have to be so afraid, Jen. I know you mean well, but can’t you trust me?”
“Fine,” Yunjin scowls. “But just so you know, I have an ‘I told you so’ ready.”
You grin. “Of course you do. I should probably get going, my shift starts soon.” You rise from your sit and wave goodbye to Yunjin as you exit the cafe. You work at a nearby convenience store, the owner of the convenience store was quite nice so you didn’t mind working there, but the shifts you got were sometimes not ideal.
Today, you had the five to ten shift. When you got there, you exchanged a few words with your coworker that was leaving and then you begin to serve the customers entering the store. Slowly, the amount of customers entering the exiting the store dies down and you begin to pass the time by playing games on your phone.
You’re so focused on the game you’re playing that you don't hear the familiar bell jingling to alert you to a new customer, nor do you hear voices loudly discussing what they wanted to buy. You curse under your breath as you fail the Candy Crush level once more, and someone clears their throat.
The familiar faces of Jay, Heeseung, and Jake all stare at you as a blush quickly rises to your cheeks. “Oh. Hi! Sorry about that,” you push your phone out of view and begin to scan their items. “Would you like a bag?”
“Sure,” Jay says.
It’s awkward as you scan their items.
“You’re Y/N, right?” Jay finally breaks the silence.
“Yeah.” You don’t know why your heart begins to race.
“Why are you involving yourself with Sunghoon?”
“Pardon?” You glance up at Jay, frowning.
“You’re aware of the rumors, right?” Jay asks with a shrug, “I just don’t know why you would hang around Sunghoon.”
You snort. “I think I should be the one asking you that. You’re his friends, after all.”
“Brothers,” Jake pipes up. “We’re brothers. We grew up together.”
“Oh,” you smile at Jake. “That’s cute.”
“Look,” Jay says, bringing your attention back to him. “All I’m saying is that you should be careful, Y/N.”
You ignore Jay and read out the total showing on your screen. “Are you trying to say there’s some truth to those rumors?” You ask as Jay searches for his wallet.
Jay looks at you for a long time. You begin to feel uneasy and your stomach swoops. With the way Jay’s looking at you, there must be some kind of truth to the rumors swirling about. Maybe Sunghoon is a murderer. Maybe you’re his next victim.
You try to play off the unease you feel. “Whatever. I’m my own person, I can make my own assumptions about people. I don’t appreciate people telling me who I should and shouldn’t talk to, or hang out with. Would you like your receipt?”
“Sure,” Jay holds his hand out. “Keep the change, though. I don’t need it.”
“Sure, whatever.” You hate how easily Jay got underneath your skin.
“Look, Y/N, just be careful, okay?” Jay says gently. “You have Sunghoon’s number, right?”
You nod your head.
“Don’t be afraid to call it. See you around.” Jay nods his head at you and turns around, leaving the store with Jake. Heeseung hangs back and turns to you, smiling lightly. “Could I have the change? Jay may not need it, but I do.”
“Sure,” you hand Heeseung the change.
“Jay means well,” Heeseung says, pocketing the change. “He’s just… overprotective.”
“I guess that’s understandable.”
“And, seriously, don’t hesitate to call Sunghoon when you need to escape a…sticky situation.” You watch as Heeseung’s face lights up while he talks and you feel as though you’re being left out of an inside joke.
“Heeseung,” Jake calls out, poking his head into the convenience store. “C’mon, we have things to do.”
“See you, Y/N.” Heeseung salutes you goodbye before exiting the store, leaving you all alone.
The three boys leave you alone with your thoughts for the rest of your shift. Your shift rushes by quickly, and before you know it, you’re exiting the convenience store into the windy night. Shuddering, you tug your coat closer and begin your walk back to your dorm.
Pulling out your phone, you shoot Yunjin a text to let her know you’re on your way home. After pocketing your phone, a hand reaches out and clamps over your mouth before pulling you into a nearby alley. Your shrieks are muffled by the hand and your arms are restrained as you’re pulled further into the alley.
You’re thrown onto the ground, your knees scraping the ground harshly, and your palms begin to sting. Huffing, you push your hair out of your face and look up to see Jaeho standing over you. Your eyes widen in fear and you struggle to stand. Your legs feel numb and your heart is racing at an incredible pace it makes you feel lightheaded.
“Jaeho?”
“Y/N,” Jaeho doesn’t sound happy. The tone of his voice sets you on edge and you immediately begin to search for a way out. “Why haven’t you been responding to me?”
You look back at Jaeho. “You pulled me into an alley to ask that?”
“Don’t play with me, Y/N,” Jaeho threatens. “If you scream no one will hear you.” He takes a step forward and you take a step back, hitting the cold brick wall.
“You’re a piece of shit, Jaeho, that’s why I wasn’t responding.”
Jaeho slaps you across the face. It stings and you take a deep, shuddering breath. Your hands curl into fists and you try to keep your emotions under control.
“How many more times do you want me to say sorry, Y/N? I was drunk, I wasn’t thinking straight -- I didn’t mean what I did that night. Why are you acting like such a bitch about it? You know you can reject me, right? I’m not going to make a big deal about it.”
“I’ve already rejected you, Jaeho,” you spit. “I did it the night you almost tried to have sex with me, and I’ve been doing it for the past few days by not responding to you. God, can’t you take the hint? I’m not interested. You’re so stupid.”
Jaeho takes a step back and holds up his hands. “I obviously don’t remember you rejecting me while I was drunk. But, thank you for finally giving me a clear rejection. Now, I’ll apologize once more. Sorry, Y/N. Can we be friends again?”
“Why the fuck would I want to be friends with a rapist and an abuser, Jaeho?”
“You fucking bitch --”
“Get away from me!” You shriek, using all your strength to push Jaeho back. He stumbles over the trash bags sitting behind him and there’s a loud whacking sound as his head makes contact with the edge of the large garbage container. Jaeho slumps to the ground, not moving.
You’re suspended in time. You stare at Jaeho’s lifeless body. Something weird simmers in your stomach and you contemplate turning and leaving Jaeho to rot away in this alley. A car backfiring sends the world spinning and you snap out of your daze.
“Holy shit. Fuck. Fuck. Jaeho?” You rush over to Jaeho and reach out to shake him. He flops around lifelessly. “This is so not funny, Jaeho. Fuck. Wake up!” After a minute of trying to shake Jaeho awake, you sit back on your heels and bury your head in your hands. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” You repeat over and over.
Your hands shake as you pull out your phone. You open up Yunjin’s contact information but gnaw on your bottom lip as your finger hovers over the call button. You look back at Jaeho lying lifelessly in front of you, the side of his head bleeding profusely before you exit Yunjin’s contact and click on Sunghoon’s.
It only rings once.
“Y/N?”
“Oh my god. Sunghoon. I -- I need your help.”
“Y/N? Where are you?”
“Sunghoon, I think I just -- oh my god.”
“Y/N. Where are you?”
You break out into loud sobs. “I didn’t mean to do it. I swear, Sunghoon. I swear.”
“Y/N --”
“I’m down some alley,” you say between your sobs. “I don’t know where I am. Jaeho dragged me here.”
Sunghoon swears and you hear muffled voices. “Stay where you are, I’ll find you.” The call ends and you’re left alone with Jaeho’s lifeless body. You try to muffle your sobs and steady the beating of your heart but it doesn’t work as images of Jaeho hitting his head against the metal garbage container replay over and over.
“Y/N.” A voice shouts down the alleyway some minutes later. Then you hear footsteps rapidly hitting the ground and slowly, Sunghoon comes into view. “Y/N,” he says again, this time in relief.
Sunghoon pulls you up and cups your face gently. He wipes away your tears again and smooths out your hair. “What happened, Y/N? Are you hurt? Are you okay?” His rapid questions and the warm concern in his eyes make your head hurt. You just want to be in your dorm already, tucked beneath your blankets next to Yunjn.
“Sunghoon,” you whisper. “It was an accident. I didn’t mean to kill him.”
“What? Kill who?” Sunghoon’s hands grip your face tighter and he pulls you close. His whole demeanor changes after hearing your previous words.
“Behind you.”
Sunghoon turns and finally sees Jaeho’s body -- except, you see him sitting up. You gasp and break free from Sunghoon, crouching down beside Jaeho. He blinks a couple of times and glances around his surroundings as though he was trying to remember how he got here.
“Jaeho,” you cry out. “Oh my god I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to --”
Jaeho grabs your wrist tightly, a vicious sneer carved on his face. “You slut. Are you trying to kill me? Why would you fucking push me like that? You’re not getting away with this, Y/N.”
“No -- Jaeho -- I --”
“Y/N. Move away.”
Looking over your shoulder, you see Sunghoon staring down at both of you with a cold expression. A metal pipe dangles in his right hand.
“Sunghoon?”
“Move away,” he repeats, now looking at Jaeho.
You move to the side, Jaeho’s hand easily slipping away from your wrist.
“When did you get here?” Jaeho’s sneer falls off his face as Sunghoon corners him against the garbage container. Jaeho’s eyes flit over to you. “Did the fucking bitch call you? Of course she did. Y/N starts arguments she can’t finish because she’s pathetic. All bark no bite.”
Sunghoon crouches down in front of Jaeho and presses his fingers against the cut on the side of his head. Jaeho flinches. Pulling his fingers away, they’re covered in blood, and the smile that spreads across Sunghoon’s face chills you to the bone.
Slowly, Sunghoon licks Jaeho’s blood off his fingers. You can’t look away.
“What the fuck, man?” Jaeho exclaims.
Rising to his feet, the smile slips from Sunghoon’s face. He raises the metal pipe in his right hand and swings it through the air, whacking Jaeho in the head with it. The boy cries out and sprawls across the concrete, his hands coming up to clutch the side of his face.
Sunghoon doesn’t stop. He swings the metal pole through the air and hits Jaeho again. And again. This time, with two hands. Jaeho can’t defend himself as Sunghoon hits him in the head with the pole over and over again. You can’t move, your hands covering your mouth as you watch blood splatter the concrete beneath Jaeho, the brick wall beside him, the garbage container behind him, and Sunghoon in front of him.
Sunghoon stops once Jaeho is no longer whimpering in pain. The bloody metal pole drops to the ground and Sunghoon turns around, brushing his hair away from his face. There’s a bloodlust look on his face that uproots your body and you begin to move away from Sunghoon as he steps forward.
“Get the fuck away from me,” you warn shakily.
Sunghoon doesn’t listen and he continues to walk closer.
“I’m serious, Sunghoon. Why the fuck did you do that?”
“Do what, Y/N?” Sunghoon asks.
“I’m not in the mood for this. You just fucking murdered Jaeho.”
“He was going to die anyway,” Sunghoon shrugs.
“What the fuck,” you whisper. “You’re crazy.”
Sunghoon grins in response and you open your mouth to scream. In a matter of seconds Sunghoon has you pushed back up against the brick wall, a hand over mouth while his other arm is lightly pressed against your throat.
“Are you fucking dumb, Y/N?” Sunghoon hisses. “Why the fuck would you scream? You do know this is now considered a crime scene, right? If you scream, you’ll attract attention, and I don’t think you want attention right now considering you watched me beat Jaeho to death.”
Reality finally sinks in for you. “Oh my god,” you say. “You killed Jaeho and I -- I watched. Oh my god. I didn’t stop you. Oh my god.” Your head spins and everything feels woozy. Your knees give out but Sunghoon is there to catch you.
“Y/N, listen to me,” Sunghoon demands. “Let me make a call. And then, I’m going to walk you back to your dorm. You’ll take a shower, eat something, and maybe drink something, and then you’ll go to bed, okay? Let me handle Jaeho. I’ll come for you when everything has been handled. Do not call or text me, okay?”
You don’t say anything. You still feel like you’re floating.
Sunghoon’s hands squish your cheeks as he shakes your head from side to side. “Y/N. Say something. I need to know you understand me.”
“Yes.” You blurt. “Okay. I understand.”
Sunghoon smiles gently and you don’t understand how he could smile like that after ruthlessly murdering someone. You feel Sunghoon kiss your forehead. “You did a good job, okay?” Sunghoon pulls away from you and helps you to the ground, letting you draw your knees to your chest. “You should always call me before you call anyone else, okay? I’ll always be there to help you.”
You nod your head.
Sunghoon tsks. “Repeat after me, Y/N. You’ll call me before you call anyone else.”
“I’ll call you before I call anyone else,” you repeat in a small voice.
Sunghoon smiles, his hand running through your hair and caressing your cheek. “Good girl.” He stands and walks away, and you bury your head into your arms.
—-
Be normal is what Sunghoon whispered to you two days ago before he allowed you to enter your dorm. You needed to act normal and that’s what you did. You made sure to engage with Yunjin and politely talk to any of her friends who hung out with the both of you during the two days after you watched Sunghoon murder Jaeho.
You haven’t seen Sunghoon in two days, nor have you contacted him. You’ve seen his younger friends around campus but you don’t have the confidence to approach them.
You’re having nightmares now. Jaeho is always present and you always wake up sweating. You haven’t gotten much sleep so you move through your school days zombie-like. The nightmare is always the same scenario; Jaeho’s chasing after you. He corners you in an alley and he beats you to death with the exact metal pole Sunghoon used on him.
News of Jaeho’s disappearance spread quickly across campus. His friends were the last to see him -- he had walked out of his apartment without telling them where he was going. At any mention of Jaeho, you freeze up. You can’t help it.
The doors to your lecture theater swing open and you’re drawn back to the present. The headmaster of your university, who you’ve only seen a few times, enters the lecture hall flanked by two policemen. A ripple of whispers runs through the lecture hall and your heart begins to beat quicker.
“Is L/N Y/N here today?”
All eyes turn to you and you shrink into your seat.
“Miss. Y/N would you please come with us? We have a few questions to ask,” one of the police officers addresses you. You pack up your things and slide out of your seat. Everyone is watching you as you walk over to the headmaster and the two policemen. You already know what this will be about.
There’s a brisk silent walk over to an empty lab. The headmaster exchanges a few words with the two policemen before he leaves you alone in their company. Your head is bowed as you sit at one of the tables, a microscope beside you and a petri dish in front of you.
“L/N Y/N?” One of the policemen asks.
You raise your head. “That’s me.”
“I’m Officer Kim and this is Officer Jeong. We have a few questions for you regarding the disappearance of Lee Jaeho.”
You nod your head.
“First, I’ll ask you an easy question. What was Jaeho to you? A friend?”
You open your mouth but struggle to answer. Was Jaeho a friend? You think back to the night at the party when he lay his hands on you without your consent. He lost the privilege to be called a friend the moment he climbed on top of you -- but, he was drunk and he had apologized to you numerous times. Doesn’t that restore the title of friendship?
“Yeah, we were friends,” you agree softly.
It’s silent as Officer Jeong notes some things down. “We managed to retrieve Jaeho’s phone,” Officer Kim says, pulling out a sealed bag containing Jaeho’s phone. Your heart skips a beat and your eyes widen. They found his phone?
“His phone?” You question.
Officer Kim nods his head. “We found it discarded on the roadside. Obviously, it’s been smashed, but we were able to retrieve the chip.” Officer Kim eyes you. “Do you know what I’m about to ask you?”
You don’t respond. Your hands curl into fists beneath the table and your nails dig into your palms.
“Why had Jaeho been texting you frequently up until his death? And why weren’t you responding?”
“That’s a private matter.”
Officer Kim smiles. “Private or not, we need to know.”
“I don’t think you need to know.” You don’t want to admit the truth. You don’t want to tell the police that Jaeho had assaulted you. Admitting it to Sunghoon was terrifying enough but to officers of the law?
“Can I be frank, Y/N?”
“Sure.”
“You’re a prime suspect in this investigation. I think you might want to tell us everything you know, otherwise you may end up being convicted for something you didn’t do.”
You lower your head and stare at the tabletop. Your fingernails dig deeper into your palm. “I wasn’t responding because he assaulted me.” You were scared to look at the police officers. You were scared to see what their expressions were. “He assaulted me and he was texting me apologies but I was ignoring him because I didn’t want to forgive him.”
It’s silent and you slowly look up. Officer Kim gives you a gentle smile. “Thank you for telling us, Y/N.”
Officer Jeong writes something down and you nod your head. “I have another question for you,” you watch Officer Kim place a sheet of paper on the table. On the paper, is a printed-out screenshot of an Instagram DM.
“Park Sunghoon sent Jaeho a threatening message on Instagram two days before his death. Park Sunghoon mentioned you by name, telling Jaeho to stay away from you or he will do something he won’t regret. Did you know about this?”
You stare at the piece of paper and read Sunghoon’s message to Jaeho. Something swirls around in your stomach and you shift uncomfortably in your chair. “No,” you respond. “I didn’t know about that.”
“Do you have any idea as to why Park Sunghoon would send that message?”
“He found me,” you say, swallowing thickly, “after Jaeho assaulted me. I told him what happened. I didn’t expect him to send Jaeho that message, he’s just a bit….” you think back to the night Jaeho was murdered. Sunghoon didn’t hesitate to pick up your call, he found you in a matter of minutes, and he promised to take care of everything for you. “He’s a bit overprotective.”
“Alright. Thank you.” Officer Kim slides the piece of paper away and clears his throat. “Earlier, we interrogated Park Sunghoon as he is the suspect at the top of our list. We were able to confiscate his phone for a few hours and we found that you had called him on the night of Jaeho’s disappearance at 10:10 for two minutes. Jaeho’s roommates told us Jaeho left the apartment at ten o’clock. Ten minutes before you made the call.”
“I did call him.”
“Why?”
You have two choices -- do you tell the truth, or do you lie? Do you blame Sunghoon for Jaeho’s murder, or do you allow the blame to fall on someone else? Do you throw Sunghoon to the pack of wolves, or do you live in misery and guilt for the rest of your life?
“I called him because he usually walks me home at night,” you tell Officer Kim. “I work at a convenience store and my shift ends at ten. Ever since Jaeho assaulted me I have been scared to walk alone in the dark. Sunghoon offered to walk me home after each of my shifts.”
“Okay,” Officer Kim nods his head. “Your shift ends at ten, but you called him at ten past.”
“I was waiting for him. I can’t walk home alone in the dark anymore, I get scared and sometimes have panic attacks. I don’t care how long I waited for Sunghoon, I was just happy he eventually showed up after I called him.”
“Okay,” Officer Kim smiles once more. “Thank you. One last question. How would you describe your relationship with Park Sunghoon?”
You’re not sure what that has to do with the investigation, but you answer anyway. “It’s…Complicated.”
“Alright. Thank you for your time, Y/N.”
“No problem. Can I go?”
“Yes, you can. We’ll be in touch.” Officer Kim waves you goodbye. You gladly grab your bag and leave the classroom, exhaling in relief as you shut the door behind you.
“They got you too, huh?”
You snap your head to the side. “Sunghoon!”
The silver-haired boy grins and beckons you over to him. “Hello, Y/N, long time no see?”
You scowl. “Fuck you, Sunghoon.”
Sunghoon grabs your hand. “Let’s go somewhere private, Y/N. There’s a lot we need to talk about.”
“Yeah,” you snort, “especially about how you’re a fucking psychopathic murderer.”
Sunghoon grins at you from over your shoulder. You feel unsettled but you allow Sunghoon to drag you across campus. You thought you would be more angry seeing him, but instead you feel oddly comforted -- and that terrifies you.
—-
Sunghoon takes you to his apartment. It’s flash like you expected, and Jake is lying on the couch in the living room when you enter. The television is blaring loudly as Jake watches some crime documentary on a channel you’ve never heard of.
“Do you want anything to eat? Or drink?” Sunghoon asks.
“No. I want to talk about what happened with Jaeho,” you hiss, glancing at Jake who was fully absorbed in the documentary.
“Don’t worry about Jake,” Sunghoon informs you, pulling out a can of coca cola from the fridge. “He’s also killed some people. He helped me with Jaeho, in fact.”
You stare at Sunghoon, and then at Jake. “What -- what the fuck.”
“I kill people, Jake kills people, Jay kills people -- we all kill people,” Sunghoon says bluntly.
You don’t know what to say. You stare at Sunghoon, your bag dropping to the floor and your heart pounds in your chest. “Why -- why are you telling me this? What if I go to the police?”
Sunghoon laughs, leaning against the kitchen counter. “You won’t tell anyone, Y/N.”
“But what if I do?”
Sunghoon smirks. “Then I’ll have to kill you. And I don’t want to kill you, Y/N, you’re too pretty to be killed.”
“You’re disgusting,” you spit.
“I’m disgusting and yet you’re standing in my apartment.”
You scowl at Sunghoon.
“How did the interrogation go? What did Kim ask you?”
“He asked me about Jaeho,” you reply, “I had to tell him about Jaeho assaulting me.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Sunghoon says gently.
“No you’re not,” you retort. “You’re a psychopath, you don’t feel things.”
Sunghoon hums. “That’s true, Y/N, but I feel things for you.”
“I also lied,” you tell Sunghoon. “They asked me why I called you and I lied. Happy?”
Sunghoon beams. “Very.” He reaches out to pat your cheek. “You’re a very good girl, Y/N.”
“Whatever,” you mumble, hating the way your heart leaps at Sunghoon’s words.
“So,” Sunghoon gestures for you to take a seat at the dining table. “Do you have any questions?”
“How much time do you have?”
“For you? As much time as you want,” Sunghoon replies.
You scowl. “Shut up.”
Sunghoon laughs and sips his drink. “So?”
“Fine. How did you know where I was?”
“Easy. I’ve been following you home most nights, but I couldn’t that night because I was having a group meeting. Since I knew the path you take home, I was able to find you easily.”
You gape at Sunghoon. “You’ve been stalking me?”
Sunghoon shrugs. “Well, when you put it like that it doesn’t sound good.”
“Why have you been stalking me?”
“I was following you because I wanted to make sure you were safe,” Sunghoon replies smoothly.
“Oh. Okay.” You know you should be throwing a fit and telling Sunghoon that stalking you was wrong, but the way Sunghoon smoothly admitted to stalking you, made your chest feel warm. You don’t know how to describe it, but the idea of knowing Sunghoon was keeping you safe did something to you.
Sunghoon raises his eyebrows but he doesn’t say anything.
“Why did you kill Jaeho? Why are you a murderer? What the fuck is happening? Are you the one doing all the killings?”
“I killed Jaeho because he deserved it, Y/N,” Sunghoon says. “He shouldn’t be walking around without consequences for his actions.”
You eye Sunghoon as he talks, and a thrill runs up your spine. You don’t know how to describe your emotions. You don’t know how to describe the fire that’s burning in the pit of your stomach. The way Sunghoon is speaking -- the way his eyes look -- it’s all so thrilling. A pretty face with a twisted mind. Something within you keens to know more. The idea that Sunghoon is willing to kill for you does something.
“Killing Jaehyun was easy,” Sunghoon grins. It’s a maniacal grin. You shift in your seat and edge closer. “He was indebted to Heeseung. Couldn’t repay Heeseung, so we killed him.”
“Just like that?” You ask, your heart thumping wildly.
Sunghoon smiles at you. It’s softer and he tilts his head, “just like that, sweetheart.”
“You killed Taeyong, too?”
Sunghoon’s smile reveals his teeth. His tongue licks his teeth and he calls out to Jake, who pokes his head over the back of the couch, his honey-blonde hair falling over his face. “You killed Taeyong?”
Jake’s grin is ecstatic. His eyes light up and he nods his head like how a dog wags their tail. “Hell yeah, dude! You should’ve been there, it was so fucking satisfying. Seeing him slump to the ground?” Jake presses a hand to his cheek and sighs. “I’d do it all over again.” Jake falls away from the back of the couch, tuning back into the documentary and you turn back to Sunghoon.
“You’re all fucking crazy,” you exclaim, astonished and breathless.
“Fucking crazy and doing what everyone else is afraid to.” Sunghoon reaches out and plays with the strings of your hoodie. You edge closer to Sunghoon and stare at him, all the anger you felt for a few minutes had evaporated. You felt a weird sense of comfort and longing. It made you feel sick, but the longing overpowered it. Sunghoon killed Jaeho for you. He followed you home to keep you safe. No one’s done that before and any sane or rational person would fear for their life and beg the police to keep them safe but you -- you want to know how far Sunghoon will go.
“So. No other reason for killing Jaeho? And for stalking me? And giving me your number?”
Sunghoon hums, his index finger brushing your chin as he wraps the string around his finger. “Well, I guess there is another reason.”
“Which is?”
Sunghoon looks at you, his eyes dark and your gut drops to your feet. “I love you, Y/N,” his voice was deep and you feel goosebumps rise across your skin.
“You don’t know me, Sunghoon.”
“Do I have to know you to love you?”
You draw away from Sunghoon, the string unraveling from around his finger. “You’re crazy.”
Sunghoon chuckles and leans back in his chair, pushing a hand through his hair. “I know. That’s all you’ve said in the past five minutes. Do you have anything other than you’re crazy, to say?”
You stare at Sunghoon. You have many things to say, many sentences running through your mind. Where to begin? How do you say what you’re feeling? How do you admit to Sunghoon that you don’t mind him doing all this for you?
You grab Sunghoon by the collar of his shirt and kiss him. It doesn’t take long for Sunghoon to respond. His hands cup your face and he pulls you close, leaving you on the edge of your seat. You kiss him with everything in you. You give and Sunghoon takes. He stokes the fire burning within your stomach and you just want him to devour you. Sunghoon bites down on your bottom lip, his tongue slipping past your lips, and pleasure rushes through your bloodstream. You want more of Sunghoon. More more more more more --
Your phone vibrates against the table. You leave it, but it keeps on vibrating and Sunghoon is the one to part. You chase Sunghoon’s lips, but he keeps you away, his thumb resting against your bottom lip. “You should answer that, Y/N.”
“Okay,” you say breathlessly. You reach for your phone, not taking your eyes off Sunghoon. “Hello?”
“Y/N,” Yunjin cries, jolting you. Her sob rips loudly through the phone and Sunghoon gives you a questioning look. Behind you, Jake’s phone rings out and he groans, pausing the documentary to answer the phone. “Haechan’s dead, Y/N.”
—-
It’s been two long days since the death of Haechan. Yunjin was in the library when it happened, that’s why she called you sobbing. Haechan was only a couple of bookcases behind her when the murder occurred, and it really shook her up.
You had raced down to the campus library hot on Sunghoon and Jake’s heels. The phone call Jake had got at the same time as you was from Heeseung, who was, in fact, the one who killed Haechan. When you arrived at the crime scene, Heeseung was talking with Beomgyu and Jeongin, tightly huddled next to each other.
Yunjin threw herself into your arms and sobbed against your shoulder as you watched Sunghoon and Jake usher Heeseung, Beomgyu, and Jeonging away from the library.
You haven’t heard from Sunghoon since then and you feel like you’re going insane. Maybe kissing Sunghoon was the wrong idea, maybe you shouldn’t have kissed him, maybe if you told him how you were feeling, he wouldn’t be leaving you on delivered and never coming to class.
You stand in front of the full-length mirror in your dorm, brushing your hands against the black dress tightly hugging your features. You’re going out tonight with a goal in mind; Sunghoon. You need to see Sunghoon, you need to pick up where you left off two days ago.
“Yunjin,” you shake the girl lying in her bed asleep.
She groans and rolls over, rubbing her eyes. “Y/N?”
“Do you want to come to the party Minho’s throwing tonight? It’s some birthday bash for Changbin at some club. I’m hoping to see Sunghoon tonight, but I’m sure Sakura will be there, she’s friends with Minho, right?”
Yunjin stares at you for a very long time. “Are you fucking kidding me, Y/N?”
You stare at Yunjin, taken aback. “What?”
Yunjin scoffs and shakes her head. “I was literally almost murdered and all you care about is Sunghoon? You know, not once during the past two days did you check up on me, or offer a helping hand -- all you talked to me about was fucking Sunghoon. Some friend you are.” Yunjin rolls back over, her back facing you.
The silence in the room is loud. “I’ll bring you back some ice cream, Yunjin,” you say in a meek tone. She doesn’t respond, so you gently pad out of the dorm, shutting the door quietly behind you.
Walking out into the cool air, Yunjin’s words echo through your head. Had you really been that awful to her? When you think back to the past few days, all you can think about is Sunghoon, so maybe there was some truth to Yunjin’s words, maybe you were obsessed with Sunghoon at the moment, but surely you had offered comfort to Yunjin? She was your only friend, after all.
But, it’s whatever. If you somehow earn Sunghoon’s attention and buy ice cream tonight, then all the problems in your life will be solved.
The line in front of the club was already long. You didn’t mind the long wait because you kept yourself occupied with thoughts of Sunghoon. Sunghoon, Sunghoon, Sunghoon. He was all you could think about. Flashes of deep brown eyes, flashes of silver (almost white) hair, and a pink mouth curved into a kissable smile. He was addictive.
Entering the club, you scan the crowd. It was dark so it was hard to make out faces, but you catch sight of familiar faces -- Soobin, Yeonjun, Yena, Yuri, Chaewon, Seungmin. But no Sunghoon. Cursing, you approach the bar and order a drink, your fingertips hitting the bartop in a rhythmic manner as you continue searching the club over and over.
Minutes pass by and still no sight of Sunghoon. You knock back your third drink of the night, your tongue licking up the last remnants of your drink when the crowd parts and Yeonjun approaches you, his hair now a deep blue.
“Y/N,” Yeonjun smiles. “Nice seeing you here.”
“Yeonjun,” you smile back. “You too.”
“You look good tonight.”
“Really?” Looking over his shoulder, you finally see Sunghoon. He’s talking to Minjeong. Bitch.
“Really,” Yeonjun agrees. “Care for a dance? With me?”
You take Yeonjun’s waiting hand and he leads you to the dance floor, pushing his way into the middle where the music is the loudest. The loud club music mixes with the alcohol consuming your bloodstream and you lose all inhibitions. Yeonjun easily guides you through the rhythm of the music and his hands carefully wander across your body.
Yeonjun’s lips carefully ghost over the back of your neck. You melt into his arms and tilt your head to the side, his lips falling onto the side of your neck, artfully decorating them in little kisses and bites, his hands gripping your waist tighter as your dancing begins to turn sensual.
Your hand cups the back of Yeonjun’s neck and you turn your head, your heart in your throat. Yeonjun pulls you closer -- if that was even possible -- and his breath is hot on your lips and then you’re being pulled apart. You stumble into the dancers in front of you, who grumble in annoyance but you shrug them off and glance to see who pulled you and Yeonjun apart.
Sunghoon is towering over Yeonjun, his eyes dark and aura brooding. You notice his hands are curled into fists and before Yeonjun could say anything, Sunghoon is punching him. You watch Sunghoon punch Yeonjun a few times before you sink into the crowd surrounding the one-sided fight that was occurring -- you couldn’t bear to watch Sunghoon beat up Yeonjun, but you also know that Sunghoon will realize you’ve left and he’ll come for you.
You inhale deeply as you step out of the club. It’s 12 AM and the streets of Seoul are still alive. You walk aimlessly through the streets to get your thoughts and feelings under control. When you eventually confront Sunghoon, you want to be able to say what you want to say without stumbling over your words.
Sharply, you turn down an alleyway and walk until you reach the dead end, turning around, you place your hands on your hips and glare into the dark night. “Sunghoon, I know you’re there,” it’s silent for a few beats. “You fucking piece of shit,” you tag on belatedly.
Still nothing.
“What gives you the right to punch Yeonjun after ignoring me for two days? You don’t own me, Sunghoon. I can dance with whoever I want, and kiss whoever I want.”
Finally, you see Sunghoon’s figure appear at the end of the alley. He approaches you like how a lion stalks their prey, except you don't cower away. Sunghoon’s face is stoic, and his eyes are dark. His right hand is bloody but you don’t care, you only care about what Sunghoon will say to you.
“You can’t kiss Yeonjun,” Sunghoon answers gruffly.
“Why not?” You challenge.
Sunghoon grabs your face and kisses you in response. It’s a rough kiss, one which surprises you. You stumble into the cool brick wall behind you as Sunghoon cages you. Sunghoon’s kiss is demanding and it’s leaving you breathless as you attempt to keep up with his passion. His hands wander across your body -- over your butt and your breasts, his hands going where you want them to go. You whimper as Sunghoon bites harshly on your bottom lip, drawing blood that tastes metallic but you don’t care. You hook one leg around Sunghoon’s waist and push him closer to your body. You crave Sunghoon’s warmth.
Sunghoon draws away, and once again you’re left chasing his lips. “When you come to a club dressed like a slut, Y/N,” Sunghoon says, his voice rumbling deep in his chest, “guys will think they’re able to kiss what’s mine.”
“I’m not yours Sunghoon,” you whisper, letting Sunghoon’s thumb brush over your lip to wipe away the blood dripping down your chin. “We kissed once.”
“I also stalked you. And Killed Jaeho for you,” Sunghoon reminds, his tone firm.
“I didn’t ask you to do that,” you retort, “you just did it.”
Sunghoon laughs and it chills you to the bone. “But you liked me doing that. You liked the idea of me stalking you, and you liked watching me kill Jaeho.”
You can’t deny it. Sunghoon kisses you again, but it’s gentle. His thumbs brush your cheeks in a soothing rhythm. Sunghoon moves his lips across your face -- he kisses your cheeks, your nose, your forehead, and then he dips down to kiss your throat. Raising his face to look at you, his eyes are soft. “You’re mine, Y/N,” his voice is also softer like he’s trying to lull you into his warm embrace but he doesn’t need to try. You’re already aching for his warm embrace.
“Ask me,” you whisper, your voice trembling, “ask me to be yours. Ask me to be your girlfriend. Ask me to love you.”
Sunghoon kisses you again. He’s addicting.
“Be mine. Be my girlfriend, Y/N.”
You hum, smiling softly. “Will you take me out on dates?”
“If you want to, then I will.”
You pull Sunghoon in for a kiss. “Take me on dates and I’ll love you. It’s simple, Sunghoon.”
Sunghoon traces your lips with a gentle finger. “Being mine has rules, Y/N,” he says in a low voice. “And if you break them, I’ll have to break you.”
Your pulse is loud in your ears. Anticipation hangs in the air. You want Sunghoon -- all of him. “I’ll follow them,” you promise Sunghoon.
“You don’t even know what they are, Y/N,” Sunghoon chuckles.
“I don’t have to know the rules to know I love you.”
Sunghoon kisses you desperately, your back digging painfully into the wall behind you, but you ignore the pain because Sunghoon’s warmth is overwhelming. “Rule number one,” Sunghoon pants out, his lips moving against yours. “You’re mine. Y/N.”
—-
Sunghoon’s presence has been overwhelming but it’s the good kind. All week you were around Sunghoon. Everywhere you went, Sunghoon was there. His rules were easy to follow -- when you see Sunghoon, you go to him, no matter if you’re with your friends. You can’t talk to any other men aside from Sunghoon and his friends. If you want to go out, you have to ask Sunghoon for permission, because Sunghoon has to know where you are, and when you’re dressing up to go out to a club, Sunghoon has to approve your outfit, and above all, you listen to Sunghoon. You listen to what he says and do what he asks, no questions asked.
If you were the sane, logical girl from last year, you would be searching for a way out of Sunghoon’s obsessive grip but now -- now you’re a girl who craves this kind of attention, who finds a thrill in knowing that you have all of Sunghoon’s attention for yourself. You find a thrill in knowing Sunghoon would do anything for you, and it should disgust you, but it doesn’t.
Sunghoon’s car rumbles gently beneath you. His hand grips your thigh possessively, the other lazily holding onto the steering wheel as he drives through Seoul. He was taking you on a date today, to a park to have a picnic.
“I like your skirt,” Sunghoon says, grinning as he pinches the hem of it.
You lay your hand over Sunghoon’s. “I wonder who picked it out.”
Sunghoon sneaks a look at you, his eyes dancing in amusement. “Perhaps you should give the person who picked it out a kiss.”
Giggling, you reach across the gap between you and Sunghoon and peck his cheek. “Thank you,” you say gently against his ear. Sunghoon’s hand squeezes your thigh tightly. You giggle again and slump against the seat, staring out the window again.
It’s a nice day. The sun is shining and there’s a gentle breeze in the air that keeps you feeling comfortable. Sunghoon takes your hand and leads you through the park to a secluded area. He tells you to stand there and look pretty as he lays out the picnic blanket and the basket full of food he had picked out for the both of you.
Sunghoon helps you out of your shoes, and then he helps you get comfortable on the blanket. He keeps you tucked between his legs and you relax against his chest, his arms circling your waist and keeping you warm. The breeze tickles your shoulder and you giggle softly, and then you feel Sunghoon drop a kiss on that same shoulder.
“Are you feeling hungry, Y/N?”
“A bit. What did you pack?”
Sunghoon shifts, keeping one arm circled around your waist while he reaches to pull the basket closer to him. “I brought some fruit,” Sunghoon pulls out a mandarin. “I’ll peel it for you,” Sunghoon’s mouth brushes your ear and you shiver.
You watch as Sunghoon’s hands deftly peel the mandarin for you. “Open your mouth,” Sunghoon says. He feeds you each mandarin piece and your heart swells. Sunghoon was a dream. He was your dream. He was your ideal man -- Sunghoon would kill for you, maybe even die for you. But he was also sweet, and loving, and caring.
“Tell me more about you,” Sunghoon says, his chin resting on your shoulder as you relax further into his embrace. “What’s your favorite color?” His fingers trace over your bare thigh. You ignore how it tickles.
“Pink. I like soft pink. Not bright pink, but a mellow, warm pink.”
“I hate pink,” Sunghoon says, sounding amused.
“I’ll make you love it.”
Sunghoon hums and kisses your shoulder. “I bet you will.”
“What about you?” You turn your head slightly to catch the side of Sunghoon’s face. “What’s your color?”
Sunghoon pulls away from your shoulder to look at you. He smiles. “I liked green, but these days I think I like the color of your eyes more.”
You blush and duck your head, covering your face with your hands. “Shut up, Sunghoon.”
He laughs heartily, his chest moving against your back. He kisses the top of your head. “Any siblings?”
You shake your head. “I’m an only child. What about you?”
“I have a younger sister,” Sunghoons says, though the tone of his voice wishes he didn’t.
Chaewon’s words from the party echo through your head. “Is it true you made your sister walk home with a broken ankle?”
Sunghoon scoffs. “She deserved it.” He doesn’t elaborate and you sit there in silence, letting his words simmer in the air. That should’ve been a sign for you to leave Sunghoon behind, go to the police and beg for a restraining order, or attempt to flee the country. But, you choose to sit between Sunghoon’s legs and intertwine your fingers with Sunghoon’s.
“And your parents? Are you close with them?” You ask Sunghoon.
“I cut them off as soon as I got to college,” Sunghoon admits bluntly. “What about you?” He brushes some stray strands of hair behind your ear.
“I’m close with them,” you murmur, playing with Sunghoon’s fingers. “They will probably want to meet you.”
“I’d love to meet them, then,” Sunghoon says, “after all, they created you.”
Your giggle floats through the air and Sunghoon manhandles you around to face him so he can kiss you intensely. You’re reeling from the sudden kiss, but soon you melt into the kiss, enjoying the feeling of Sunghoon warmly pressed against you.
Pulling away, you push your cheek against Sunghoon’s chest to listen to his heartbeat. Your legs are curled up as Sunghoon holds you close, playing with the ends of your hair. “Sunghoon?” You ask gently and he hums in response. “How did you -- why did you --” Sunghoon cuts you off to kiss you again. You let him kiss you for a while.
“That’s a story for another day, Y/N,” Sunghoon murmurs, his forehead resting against yours. “Let’s not ruin the mood of our date, yeah?”
You can only agree.
—-
You’re walking into a familiar club a couple of days later with Yunjin. Your eyes glance down at your phone once again, rereading Sunghoon’s texts. First, he approved of your outfit and complimented you so passionately you still blush as you read his message, and second, Sunghoon had told you he’d be arriving soon. Your stomach was on fire at just the thought of seeing Sunghoon again tonight, at a party.
Beside you, Yunjin looks at you before abandoning you in favor to seek out her friends. You let Yunjin go. She’s been giving you the cold shoulder ever since you never returned back to the dorm without the ice cream you promised her. You’ve also been blowing her off lately in favor to hang out with Sunghoon, but you could care less about Yunjin’s cold shoulder. You have Sunghoon to crawl back to at the end of the day, anyway.
You head for the bar and order a drink. You look out at the club, eyes trained on the entrance as you wait for Sunghoon. Minutes pass and the club continues to fill up. You keep checking your phone for a message from Sunghoon, but you still receive no text from him.
People pile up at the bar around you, and behind you, you hear a familiar, grating feminine voice. Shooting a side glance over your shoulder, you catch a glimpse of curly black hair and smoky eyeshadow. Minjeong sat behind you with her posse, and her voice was loud enough for you to hear.
“Did you hear the rumor about Sunghoon?” One of Minjeong’s friends asks her.
“Which one? The one about him murdering Jaehyun, or the one about him being a freak?” Minjeong asks in her annoying snarky tone. You’ve never liked Minjeong, in fact, you’ve always had a rivalry with her ever since high school. You two were the top students in your high school and when Senior year came around, both of you were vying for valedictorian. In the end, you snatched the spot from her, and from then, Minjeong’s been obsessed with stealing everything from you -- even your ex-boyfriend.
“No, the one about his relationship with Y/N,” her friend clarifies. “People are saying he’s blackmailing her into being his girlfriend.”
Minjeong laughs loudly at that. “If anything, Y/N’s the one doing the blackmailing. She’s a pathetic freak. Though, Sunghoon’s more of a freak than her so it’s a perfect match!”
Her friends titter obnoxiously and you order another drink from the bar. Minjeong was beginning to get on your nerves for the thousandth time, except this time, you might end up doing something about it rather than being the one to take the high road.
“What did you mean when you called Sunghoon a freak?” Another one of Minjeong’s friends asks, her tone curious and it makes your blood boil. What right do Minjeong and her friends have talking about Sunghoon like that?
Minjeong snickers. “Didn’t you hear? Apparently, in Freshmen year, he was caught entering a girl’s dorm and stealing all her underwear. When the campus security went through his room, they found all sorts of panties and porn magazines. He’s a peeping tom, Jimin, a freak. I guess he and Y/N deserve each other.”
Slamming the glass holding your drink onto the bar, you turn in your chair and glare at Minjeong. All her friends freeze up at the sight of you, but Minjeong only smiles slyly. “If I were you, I would watch your fucking mouth, Minjeong,” you warn.
“All bark no bite,” Minjeong taunts.
All bark no bite. Jaeho said that before Sunghoon murdered him. Your blood boils. You hate that saying.
“Sunghoon’s a fucking freak and you know it, Y/N.”
Grabbing your drink, you pour the remainder of the alcohol over Minjeong’s head. She shrieks and her friends flinch away. “Say that again.” You grab Minjeong by the shirt. “Say it, Minjeong.”
Minjeong opens her mouth, but nothing comes out. Rolling your eyes, you shove Minjeong off the barstool and she goes crashing to the ground. All her friends crowd around her, some shoot you dirty looks but you ignore them. Minjeong had it coming.
“Y/N.”
Turning around, you see Yeonjun standing there with a swollen nose and a black eye. Your eyes widen and you glance around the room searching for Sunghoon. Where was Sunghoon?
“Yeonjun, hi.”
“Y/N, listen to me,” Yeonjun grabs your hand. You flinch and try to pull away, but Yeonjun’s grip only tightens. “You need to get away from Sunghoon.”
“Yeonjun, what the fuck --”
“Y/N,” Yeonjun’s begging at this point. “You don’t deserve someone like him. He’s a psychopath, Y/N, you’re not safe with him.”
You scoff and finally tug your hand out of Yeonjun’s. “Thank you for the warning, Yeonjun, but I think I can make those kinds of decisions on my own.”
“Y/N, you aren’t listening. Sunghoon’s a fucking murderer--”
“Sunghoon!” You beam as you see the silver-haired male appear behind Yeonjun.
Yeonjun tenses up and turns slightly to see Sunghoon towering over him. Sunghoon doesn’t say anything as he brushes past Yeonjun and grips your wrist tightly, pulling you through the crowd and out of the club. You stumble over your feet in an attempt to catch up with Sunghoon’s fast pace and long legs.
“Sunghoon!” You call but he ignores you. Once he’s free from the club, he veers to the right sharply and shoves you up against the side of the club. You’re hidden away from the long line of people waiting to enter the club, the shadows protecting you from anyone who peers down this small alley in between two clubs.
“Why the fuck were you talking to Yeonjun, Y/N?” Sunghoon glares at you, his eyes fiery.
Your heart skips a beat and you reach for Sunghoon’s hand. “Sunghoon, I didn’t want to talk to him.”
“Don’t fucking lie, Y/N. I thought you understood my rules clearly. I specifically told you to not talk to Yeonjun.” Sunghoon was seething. You’ve never seen him this angry.
“Sunghoon,” you try to placate him. “He talked to me. I never want to disobey you, Sunghoon, you have to believe me. I don’t want to talk to Yeonjun but he came up to me and started a conversation with me.”
“Are you telling the truth, Y/N?”
You nod your head. “Of course, Sunghoon. You’re the only one I want.”
“Good girl,” Sunghoon breaks into a smile and cups your face with his hand, planting a kiss on your lips. “Head back into the club, I have something to take care of.”
“Okay,” you murmur, “be safe?”
“I always am,” Sunghoon kisses you again. “You look good tonight. It’s a shame I can’t be with you longer.”
“I’ll wear this dress for you another night, I promise,” you smile at Sunghoon, squeezing his hand.
“Alright. Text me when you’re leaving the club. And text me when you get home.”
“Of course.”
—-
Walking through campus, something rustles underfoot. Glancing down, you see Yeonjun’s missing poster beneath your foot. Choi Yeonjun has been missing for the past three days. You screw up the missing poster and dump it in the nearest trash can. They won’t ever find Yeonjun’s body, Jay made sure to dispose of it carefully.
Sunghoon had called you the next morning after Yeonjun attempted to ward you away from Sunghoon. It didn’t work, of course, because you loved Sunghoon and you wanted to be with him, psychopath or not. You and Sunghoon met up at a cafe on campus, he bought your breakfast for you and he explained why he had to leave you alone in the club.
Yeonjun’s death was all his fault. He had it coming.
After Sunghoon explained Yeonjun’s murder to you, you kissed him and said thank you. You knew you could always count on Sunghoon to protect you and keep you save from the people trying to interfere with your relationship.
Days passed after Sunghoon admitted to being the cause of Yeonjun’s disappearance. The hunt for Yeonjun is growing hopeless as each day passes and no one steps forward with any information regarding Yeonjun’s disappearance.
You’re working at the convenience store again. It’s a boring night but thankfully you only have an hour left. You flick through a magazine that was supposed to be on display in front of the counter but since there were no customers, you were passing time by snickering at the tabloid.
The door opens and the bell above it rings. Glancing up, you see Minjeong approaching you. You push the magazine to the side and wait for Minjeong to speak as she stands at the counter. Her eyes survey the gum sitting nearby, and she grabs a strawberry flavored packet.
“You should keep a leash on your boytoy, Y/N,” Minjeon says nonchalantly, flicking through the same magazine you were previously reading.
“I don’t need to listen to this shit from you.”
Minjeong hums. “I think you do. I saw him, a couple of nights back. The night you ruined my green dress at the club, remember?”
You smile. “I remember it fondly, Minjeong.”
“I think it was around three am? I saw your boyfriend fighting with Yeonjun. It didn’t look like a friendly fight, Sunghoon was kind of…scary,” Minjeong shrugs and your heart begins to slow down. “Eventually, Yeonjun got into Sunghoon’s car.” Minjeong places the magazine back on the rack and looks at you. “Kinda crazy, huh? That I saw Yeonjun hours before he was reported missing, and he was with your boyfriend.”
“Your total is three dollars.”
“Three dollars for a packet of gum?” Minjeong frowns.
You smile but it’s tight, unfriendly. “Capitalism, Minjeong.”
Minjeong hands you a five dollar note. “You know what’s even funnier?”
“What?”
“I saw Sunghoon later. I think it was 5 AM? I am a party girl, after all, and he was climbing out of his car alone.”
You give Minjeong back her change. “Have a good night, Minjeong.”
Minjeong tuts. “I’m not finished, Y/N. He was climbing out of the car covered in blood, Y/N. You know what that means, right? Your psychotic boyfriend murdered Yeonjun.”
You can hear the clock in the staff room ticking as you and Minjeong stand in silence. You don’t know what to do. You’re in shock. You can’t believe Sunghoon had been so irresponsible. You can’t let Sunghoon go to prison.
“Why haven’t you told the police yet?” You ask Minjeong.
Minjeong shrugs, tearing the plastic wrapping off the gum packeting. “I didn’t believe what I saw at first. And then when I did, I wanted to talk to you before I went to the police.”
“Why would you want to talk to me?”
“Because the police might question you, Y/N,” Minjeong pulls out some gum and offers the packet to you. You shake your head. “And I don’t know what your relationship with Sunghoon is like, but I know how hard it is to be in an abusive relationship and get questioned by the police. They’re ruthless.”
Finally, an out to this situation appears. You soften your eyes and fidget with your fingers, glancing away from Minjeong. “Oh.” You stare really hard at a packet of chips, not bothering to blink as your eyes begin to water.
“Y/N?” Minjeong asks softly.
“Minjeong. Can we -- can we not talk about this here? Can we meet somewhere privately?”
Minjeong nods her head. “Of course, Y/N.”
“And can you not tell anyone about us meeting up? I -- I don’t want Sunghoon to know and I don’t want you getting in trouble in case he finds out you know. .”
Minjeong nods eagerly. “Of course, Y/N. Where do you want to meet?”
“There’s an alleyway not far down. It’s across from the Chinese takeaway place. My shift ends at ten, so it’ll take me a few minutes to get there.”
Minjeong smiles gently. “I’ll wait for you, Y/N. Thank you for trusting me with whatever you’re about to tell me.”
You smile at Minjeong. “Of course.”
Minjeong bids you goodbye and when she’s out of sight, you dry your eyes and reach for your phone, firing a quick text to Sunghoon. He answers back immediately and you grin, placing your phone down and reaching for the magazine you shoved aside.
The remainder of your shift passes by slowly. Your nerves get the better of you and by the time Seungmin arrives to take over, you’re racing out of the store. Your pulse is loud in your ears as you approach the alleyway where you told Minjeong to meet you.
You see her standing down the alleyway, a little way from the enterance. The glare of her phone lights up her face. Clearly distracted, you duck down and pick a broken brick up from the ground, hiding it behind your back as you walk over to Minjeong.
“Y/N,” Minjeong smiles and turns off her phone, pocketing it. “How are you?”
“I could be better,” you respond, keeping up your innocent, scared appearance. “I just didn’t know what to do or who to tell,” you start, biting your lower lip nervously.
“It’s okay,” Minjeong reaches out to rub your arm. “You can tell me.”
“Sunghoon he…he told me he murdered Yeonjun,” you confess to Minjeong.
Her eyes widen. “Oh, Y/N.”
“I was terrified at first,” you continue, “but then after a while, I thanked Sunghoon for doing that.”
“What?” Minjeong frowns, confused. “You thanked Sunghoon for…murdering Yeonjun?”
You shrug. “Yeonjun had it coming.”
“Y/N, what the fuck --”
“Sorry, Minjeong, but you weren’t supposed to see Sunghoon with Yeonjun,” you give her a smile before you swing your hand holding the brick through the air and smack Minjeong on the side of her head with it. Minjeong sprawls to the ground, her temple bleeding.
You drop the brick and pull out your phone, calmly dialing Sunghoon’s number as you stare at Minjeong’s unconscious body. “I knocked out Minjeong,” you tell Sunghoon, “she saw you with Yeonjun the night you killed him.”
Sunghoon doesn’t say anything. He hangs up and in seconds he’s by your side, staring down at Minjeong’s body. “Do you want to finish what you started, Y/N?” Sunghoon asks, picking up the brick, “or would you like me to finish?”
“You can finish. Do you want me to call Jake?”
“Yeah, tell him to get his ass down here with Jay and Heeseung and bring my car. He’ll know what to do.” Sunghoon hands you his phone and you turn away, not wanting to see Sunghoon bash Minjeong’s head with the brick.
Jake sounded eager as you talked to him on the phone. Fifteen minutes later, Jake appears with Jay and they jog down the alley. Sunghoon’s car is parked in front of the alley, blocking anyone from looking down the alley.
“Where’s the body?” Jay asks.
“Heeseung couldn’t make it,” Jake says as he, Sunghoon, and Jay crowd around Minjeong’s dead body. “He had to handle something with Beomgyu and Jeongin. Probably a drug deal gone wrong.”
“Of-fucking-course,” mutters Sunghoon. “Fucking stoners.” He glances over his shoulder. “Go wait in the car, Y/N. Jungwon will keep you company, and we’ll talk about this later, okay?”
You nod your head and walk down the alley, opening the car door and sliding into the backseat. Jungwon sits in the driver’s seat, his fingers tapping the steering wheel as he glances out the tinted windows. “Hey, Jungwon,” you place your bag on the car floor and pull out your phone to play Candy Crush to pass the time.
“Hey. Killed Minjeong, huh?”
“Knocked her unconcious. Sunghoon killed her for me. She knew too much about Yeonjun’s disappearance. Came to me while I was working and confessed everything to me.”
Jungwon snorts. “Her first mistake. Why didn’t she go to the police first?”
“I think she was concerned for me,” you respond absentmindedly. “Thought I was in an abusive relationship with Sunghoon.” That gets a kick out of Jungwon and he laughs heartily.
“Little does she know,” Jungwon sighs after getting his laughter under control, “you and Sunghoon are a perfect match for each other.”
—-
Sliding into the passenger seat beside Sunghoon, he greets you with a kiss. It was the first day of spring break and Sunghoon was driving the both of you down to visit your parents. They were over the moon when you told them you had a boyfriend and told you they wanted to meet him over the break.
“They’ll love you,” you reassure Sunghoon as he pulls away from the curb.”You’ll definitely win them over.”
Sunghoon grins, his dimple peeking. “Everyone loves me, Y/N.”
“I love you more though,” you respond, sulking.
Sunghoon takes your hand and kisses the top of it. “I know you do, Y/N.”
“Oh!” You perk up, “Yunjin wont be rooming with me after the break. I’ll have the dorm to myself for the rest of the semester and then I’ll have to move out. Should we move in together during the summer break, Sunghoon?”
Earlier, before Sunghoon came to pick you up, Yunjin broke the news to you. You were expecting this, now that you think about it. Ever since you began dating Sunghoon, you and Yunjin grew apart. She didn’t approve of you dating Sunghoon, and you didn’t like her disapproval. What was so wrong about you dating Sunghoon? Yunjin often complained whenever you blew her off, but as it became more frequent she began to leave you alone in the dorm like at the beginning of the year when the both of you weren’t as close.
You didn’t care than Yunjin held a grudge against you for blowing her off and dating Sunghoon because, at the end of the day, you always had Sunghoon and you would chose Sunghoon over any of your friends any day.
“I like that idea. Should we move in together?”
You nod your head. “It would be so much fun living together, Sunghoon. Late nights, I can cook you dinner, and we can watch as many movies as we want! Maybe we could get a pet too!”
“A cat?” Sunghoon asks.
“Anything you want, Sunghoon,” you respond warmly. Sunghoon steals a kiss from you at the red light and you giggle, smiling bashfully and leaning forward to turn up the radio, the playlist Sunghoon made for the two of you playing.
The drive to your childhood home was only a couple of hours. Usually, the drive was boring since you had no one else to join you, but now that you had Sunghoon with you on the drive, he made it more fun. Cracking jokes and playing silly games with you, he left you breathless.
“Home sweet home,” you murmur as Sunghoon pulls up the driveway.
Sunghoon parks the car and pulls the keys out of the ignition. His hand cups your chin and guides your lips to his. He kisses you in his car, outside your house. “Cute house,” Sunghoon says after leaving you breathless. “I can imagine you growing up here.”
You blush. The front door of your house opens and your mother and father step onto the porch, waving happily when they see you. “Come on,” you reach out to pinch Sunghoon’s cheek, “let’s meet the parents!”
Climbing out of the car, you rush up the porch to hug your parents. “I missed you so much, darling,” you mother says, petting your hair.
“I missed you more, mom,” you respond, pulling her in for another hug.
“My baby girl,” your father says fondly, rubbing your cheek with the back of his hand. “How have you been?”
You beam and hug your father tightly. “I’ve been well. University has been so much fun. I miss your homecooked food, though.”
Your mother and father chuckle. “We’re glad you’re back home, darling. This break will be so much fun.”
Glancing over your shoulder, you watch Sunghoon approach you and your parents. Your smile broadens and you tuck yourself into Sunghoon’s side, “this is my boyfriend, Park Sunghoon.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” Sunghoon says, shaking your father’s hand.
“You too, son,” your father says, “anyone who can make my daughter this happy is okay in my book.”
Sunghoon smiles, peeking down at you. “Seeing her happy makes me happy.”
Your father sends you a wink and you blush. Sunghoon takes your mother’s hand and kisses the back of her hand. “It’s a delight to meet you, Mrs. L/N, you created a wonderful daughter.”
Your mother’s laughter is light as it floats through the air. “Come on in, I’ll show you to your room and then you can unpack the car.”
Reaching for Sunghoon’s hand, you squeeze it gently as you step into your childhood home. Sunghoon squeeze your hand back, and when your parents weren’t looking, he sneaks a kiss on your temple. The love in your heart for Sunghoon swells tenfold.
After moving everything from Sunghoon’s car and into the house, your father takes Sunghoon away to tinker in the garage while you sit in the kitchen, watching your mother prepare dinner. “Remind me long you’ve been dating Sunghoon, sweetheart?” Your mother asks.
“Three weeks,” you respond.
“Oh. I didn’t know this was a new relationship. The way you spoke on the phone made it sound like you’ve been with him for a while.”
You shrug, peeling the shell of a pistachio. “We’ve known each other for a long time. Three weeks feels like three months with Sunghoon. I love him. And didn’t you tell me if you love someone, that’s more than enough?”
Your mother sighs, kneading out the dough. “I guess so. Just, be careful, Y/N, okay? I don’t want you to rush into a relationship and make a mistake that could cost your life.”
You giggle. “You don’t need to worry about me, mom, Sunghoon is the one for me.”
Your mother smiles at you from over her shoulder. “I’ll take your word for it.”
Your father enters the kitchen and kisses your mother’s cheek as he reaches for the fridge. “Sunghoon’s up in your room, Y/N, if you want to see him. We’ll call you down when dinner’s ready,” you father says. “I need some alone time with your mother.”
You dash out of the kitchen and up the stairs to your childhood room. You burst into the room and leap onto your bed, crushing Sunghoon. He groans and pushes you off him as you giggle, flopping back on the bed beside him. “How are you, Sunghoon?”
“I’m having fun. Your father is nice to talk to,” Sunghoon responds. “It’s making me miss my parents.”
You coo reach out to caress Sunghoon’s cheek. You throw your leg over Sunghoon’s waist and cuddle up to him, your hand falling down to rest on his chest. You close your eyes and begin to doze off, feeling relaxed and comfortable in Sunghoon’s embrace, but your boyfriend shakes you awake.
“Y/N,” he says softly. “I have something for you.” He gently pulls you upright and turns to shift through his overnight bag. It doesn’t take long for him to procure a small jewelry box and you gasp softly as Sunghoon turns to you with a big grin on his face.
“I saw this at the jewelry store yesterday. Jake was shopping for his mom since her birthday is coming up. I saw this and thought of you.” He opens the box and you gasp, staring at the thin gold ring sitting between the cushions.
Sunghoon takes it out and you hold out your hand. “It’s a promise ring,” Sunghoon tells you softly. “You’re my forever, Y/N.”
“Oh, Sunghoon,” you admire the ring. It’s a small gold ring with a flower sitting in the middle. You don’t recognize the flower so you look at Sunghoon in question.
“It’s your birth flower, Y/N,” Sunghoon explains, pinching your chin playfully.
“Oh. I didn’t even know such a thing as birth flowers existed.”
Sunghoon laughs loudly and leans forward to kiss you. “Don’t worry, baby, I know everything about you.”
You laugh against his lips and draw him back in for a kiss. You spend the rest of your time with Sunghoon kissing him and admiring the ring in the golden sunlight until your father calls you both downstairs.
Dinner was enjoyable, though you could tell your parents felt a bit unsettled as you show them the promise ring Sunghoon got you, and how you both explained your plans to move in with each other next year. The unsettling feelings carries into the night when Sunghoon was up taking a shower and you were helping your parents clean up dinner.
“Y/N, honey,” your father starts softly. “Don’t you think you’re rushing this relationship?”
You glance up from where you were washing the dishes. “What? No? I love Sunghoon, and I want to be with him forever.”
Your parents share a look. “Y/N,” your mother says, “are you sure?”
“Why are you being like this?” You ask your parents, placing down the brush you were using to wash the dishes. “Shouldn’t you be excited for me? I finally have a boyfriend who loves me and cares for me.”
Your father nods. “We are, but it just feels like you’re going too fast. You’ve only been dating for three weeks, Y/N.”
“But I love him,” you insist. “I love Sunghoon. And you’ve always told me that when I love someone, I shouldn’t let them go.”
Your mother sighs heavily. “Alright. If you believe that you and Sunghoon will last, then we’ll back off.”
“But don’t say that we didn’t warn you,” your father adds.
You finish washing the dishes in silence. You don’t bid your parents goodnight as you walk up to your room, your mood sour. Sunghoon was already in bed, tucked beneath the covers as he scrolled through his phone, probably replying to the group chat he has with his friends.
“Hey,” you mutter, pulling out your pajamas.
“Hey,” Sunghoon responds, placing down his phone. “Are you okay, Y/N?”
“No,” you respond tersely, changing out of your clothes and into your pajamas in front of Sunghoon. “My parents were being annoying.”
“Oh?”
“I’ll tell you about it after I finish washing up.” You grab your toothbrush and face wash and dash over to the bathroom next to your room, not wanting to bump into your parents. After finishing washing up, you crawl into bed with Sungoon and curl up next to him.
“What’s on your mind, Y/N?” Sunghoon brushes a hand through your hair.
“My parents think we’re moving too fast,” you grumble. “They’re trying to tell me what to do in our relationship. It’s annoying.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Sunghoon says gently. “Would you like me to talk to them?”
You shake your head. “No, it’s okay, Sunghoon. Let’s just sleep. We’ll have them convinced that we aren’t rushing this relationship by the end of the week.”
Sunghoon kisses your forehead and helps you lie down before pulling you close against his chest. “Goodnight, Y/N.”
“Goodnight, Sunghoon.”
You didn’t get much sleep. You were standing in front of the milk at the nearby supermarket zoning out. After your mother asked you to get some milk, you began your slow, sleepy walk down to the nearest supermarket.
Sunghoon has been silent all morning and you hope what you told him last night didn’t ruin his mood for the rest of the trip. Finally snapping out of your daze, you grab the milk your mother asked for, approached the register and paid.
You took your time walking home, enjoying the fresh morning air. You begin to plan how to prove to your parents that you and Sunghoon’s relationship wouldn’t crash and burn in a few years. So far, the plan you thought of wasn’t exactly going to prove to your parents that you and Sunghoon were a forever couple, but as your unlock the front door, you realize that you don’t need your parents’ approval. It’s your life. Not theirs.
Putting the milk away, you realize how quiet the house is and a chill creeps up your spine. “Mom?” You call out, “dad?” There’s no response. “Sunghoon?” You search the first floor, but your parents were nowhere to be found. Climbing the stairs, you stay alert.
Sunghoon wasn’t in your room, and your parents weren’t in theirs either. You notice the bathroom door was shut and your heart begins to race. You hope that maybe your mother and father left to go on their morning walk and Sunghoon was taking a shower.
Pushing open the door to the bathroom you smell the metallic smell of blood before you see the scene in front of you. Your parents lay lifeless on the bathroom floor, their abdomen split open with the amount of stab wounds issued to their upper body. Blood is spilled across the floor, all over the cabinet and the white walls.
Sunghoon was on his knees, hovering over your father as he slashes at his chest a few more times. “Sunghoon,” you whimper, your knees almost giving out.
The knife he was holding drops to the floor. He looks up at you and you gasp once again. Blood covers his face, it drips down his cheeks and his chin. You watch as Sunghoon reaches up to wipe the blood of his face, but his hand was also bloody. He drags his bloody hand across his mouth, getting rid of no blood. It was futile for him to wipe his bloody hand across his mouth. His hand drops back down into the pool of blood surrounding Sunghoon and your knees finally give out.
You collapse, your hands splashing the blood pooling at the entrance of the bathroom. “Sunghoon,” you whisper. You can’t take your eyes off the lifeless bodies of your mom and dad. “What did you do?”
Sunghoon beckons you over. Your body automatically moves to Sunghoon, blood seeping into the fabric of your jeans. Sunghoon’s bloody hands come up to cup your face. The blood is cool against your face, but you don’t flinch away from Sunghoon.
He leans down and kisses you. All you can taste is the blood of your parents but you don’t push Sunghoon away. You sink into the embrace of his kiss as you’re overcome with emotion you can’t describe.
“I did this for you,” Sunghoon whispers, his bloody forehead touching yours.
“For me?” You whisper back.
“Everything I do is for you, Y/N,” Sunghoon kisses you again. You grip his bloody t-shirt tightly. You don’t care about your dead parents. A small part of your brain is happy they’re dead. Now, you won’t be subjected to their judgemental stares for the rest of spring break. “If I can’t have you, no one can, Y/N. I promise you that.”
“I love you, Sunghoon,” you whisper, finally embracing Sunghoon and all of his craziness. Sunghoon would kill for you. He’s proven himself over and over again. “You’ll only ever have me.”
“I know,” Sunghoon whispers back, his hand touching your hair.
“You’d do anything for me, Sunghoon?” You ask.
“Anything,” Sunghoon answers, his lips brushing over yours.
“Good,” you smile.
author’s note, hey…..that was. a lot. idk what overcame me when i wrote this tbh. i was possessed by the ghost of sunghoon in the concept film😊 anyway. i hope you enjoyed this fic! idk if i liked the pacing of it but. oh well. also i dont even think this fic had a plot?? it was just me writing while thinking of sunghoon😭 guys i promise one day i will post a Happy fic on tumblr with no death or murder or ambiguous endings🫶 anyways in case u wanted to know; sunghoon and y/n live happily ever after. idc if its inaccurate but sunghoon never gets caught murdering random people who touch y/n🤷♀️ anyways leave ur thoughts! i’d love to read them🩷
#enhypen#park sunghoon#park sunghoon x reader#enhypen angst#enhypen fluff#sunghoon angst#sunghoon fluff#sunghoon x reader#enhypen x reader#enhypen au#sunghoon
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notes after rewatching fallout s1 ep4
• cooper and lucy wandering the desert and mans starts coughin', somethin' settin' in
• whoa i just realized you could hear roger roaring from outside
• roger was at a clinic, probably trying to find something to help him ☹️
• i wrote a whole entire post on this scene but anyways can i say we see full blown uncooked cannibalism hardly ten minutes into episode four like is everyone ok
• the fact this scene is presented with a lot of tension, like a horror film and truly it's just a guy named roger fighting to stay not feral
• i wonder how cooper met him? ghouls tend to know each other after a while [on account of the discrimination], i'm sure he was checking with this man every now and then tbh. perhaps. a friend.
• cooper asks roger how he's feeling and he says "you know... it's hard out here. dang smoothies can be so unkind" and i just 😞
• "i see you got a smoothie of your own" ding ding ding ghoulcy this one's for you
• you know what's particularly sad about ghoulification is for example that roger has had to isolate himself from others, even ghouls, because he was turning
• roger asking for a vial and cooper looking at lucy [cooper, you botched the using lucy for bait, come on]
• firmly in the camp that if cooper had vials left, he would give one to roger. cooper has shown himself to be crude and cruel seeming at times but i just know he went there with purpose
• roger accepting he's turning and telling cooper and lucy to leave as a warning, roger seemed so nice, why and how did he get like this
• "i did ok" 😞
• going from standard human to turning into a feral ghoul in less than twenty eight years in the fallout universe is insane and idk if there's a lot of lore on why someone could end up like this and someone like cooper not
• the difference in cooper's and roger's symptoms are pretty stark--- not entirely sold on him coughing and passing out is from ferality and more inclined to think chem withdrawals but i digress
• "say, you remember how good food use to taste?" post war life is so bad, nobody in the wasteland remembers when food use to food 😭
• because roger is really nice and having a conversation, roger turns, speaking to lucy. cooper using this as an opportunity to kill roger seems so sudden and a betrayal until
• look at cooper's eyes and his reaction after pulling the trigger--- not exactly the expression of someone who is in it "for the love of the game", in fact, i have come to view this act as a mercy kill
• which is ironic of course because as we've all come to see, lucy does the exact thing for her own mother four episodes later
• once feral, ghouls roam the wasteland operating on two instincts alone: hunger and defense. they are a threat to all those around them and i don't recall much on reversal. that's no life. roger would've turned feral and harmed them or others, it is sad
• cooper mercy killing roger was in some ways compassionate, he had a sweet conversation with roger giving his last thoughts something warm and nice. cooper then going on to butcher and consume his flesh was an uh choice 💀
• and lucy immediately confused was like "wait?, why'd you do that? he was sick." i don't know if she entirely understands ghoulification, seems she thought maybe he could be helped
• lucy is basically confused, begging cooper to not like, eat this guy 😭
• i'm gonna have to agree that he didn't have to eat roger, radroaches is everywhere and for free, still pondering if he did this to fuck with her or because some reason i am missing
• cooper asking lucy what her name was [hold on, why he care about that?" and lucy so nearly coming this close to finding out what hank did and who cooper is [since she didn't ask his name]
• "sometimes a fella's got to eat a fella" is my all time favourite quote in season one of this show lmao
• cooper be funny as fuck for no reason like this man's brain is cooked
• i would personally like to ask walton whose idea it was to go "mmm. mmm." while eating irradiated human flesh like that, like why is the pre war actor cooper howard like this
• lucy is incomprehensibly disgusted but then goes on a thing [a vulnerable thing] about vault 32 starving [in the great plague of '77] and that she lost her mother during this time and that her father never resorted to cannibalism. there's some time and memory discrepancies here
• "well there's what people say they did and what they really did" i wanted cooper to be wrong so bad here when he went on to clown hank by saying "i'll bet your daddy was first in line at the cookout. i bet he had a bib with a drawing of his neighbour's ass on it"
• lmao they gave all the best lines to cooper, i'm sick, he was right
• lucy, having had enough and not finding cooper's humour being used as a way to cope like this asks this disturbed little man
• "how do you live like this? why keep going?" and for the briefest moment, and i do mean brief, cooper feels the crushing weight of who he is when lucy confronts him like this
• of course he shakes off a moral inquiry and transfers it to another as he asks "why the fuck am i doing all the work?... ass jerky don't make itself." and forces lucy to do it instead
• twice now this man has talked about ass in less than ten minutes and for everyone's sake i'll move along 💀
• woody basically trying to interrogate the raider prisoners and getting nothing, meanwhile--- i think they already starting to be poisoned
• ooo ok but betty telling norm he's the last standing maclean in the vault so his words carry and people listen. it occurred to me maybe he inadvertently inspired the poisonings of the raiders but it's also occurring to me that because they couldn't just all be shot outright, being poisoned was the best follow through method, nobody notices until it's already too late. now who is sneaky enough for that?
• "when clever boys like you are angry, you're lucky not to have seen where that can lead." so... was betty present for shady sands? hmm
• betty asking norm to tread lightly is very... not a threat, but she's watching him, right
• ok! we have that second water scene. it's confirmed here cooper is fetching water from an irradiated source [hence why denying lucy any makes sense] he puts it in his canteen and drinks it just fine. lucy is obviously mindlessly thirsty because she defeatedly drops down to drink the murky, stagnant irradiated water. it's so irradiated, her pip boy is going crazy, she literally gags in the scene
• "now you're getting it. how does this golden rule jibe with what's going through your head now?" well i mean we knew cooper been fucking with her the whole time and showing her the wasteland streets but it is also unlikely she would have found a clean water source where they are, i guess her getting radiation sickness may have been inevitable but cooper denying her water kept her from being sick
• after another insane string of sentences from this centuries old movie star, lucy finally asks "what are you?" and it's more like "what the fuck is wrong with you?"
• "oh i'm you, sweetie, you just give it a little time" is majorly menacing after everybody just drank stagnant rad water like it's koolaid
• cooper felt so smug then was zapped with karma again because he has a coughing fit directly after telling lucy this lmao
• walton has such a good old man cough ❤️
• lucy takes cooper coughing up a lung as an opportunity to run [where i don't know but]
• cooper uses his lasso skills he used to use at kid's parties to pull lucy back and then says some shit like "where you think you going? you ain't going nowhere."
• so we have arrived at the infamous and intriguing finger biting off scene--- can i just say she bit his finger off with such ease and then! cooper doesn't even act like it hurt, he seems... pleased he got that kind of reaction out of lucy. he's like into it 💀
• "there you are, you little killer" i'll keep this pg13 and say cooper really wanted to get a rise out of lucy, to bring the dog out of her, huh
• he... then proceeds to cut her [corresponding hand's] finger off. ironically applying the "do unto others as you would have done unto you" tit for tat, if you will
• i was surprised he did this because like ok, she spat it out? pick it up and reattach it, fella 😭 but there's more under the surface here because
• cooper says "now that right there is the closest thing we've had to an honest exchange so far." and he's being framed in a close up so close, you can see his dainty eyelashes, sun shining in the background, his hazel eyes sparkling--- this is not on accident ☝️ gdgkdkfd
• there's a lot of symbolism to be had but for now, i'll save that for next episode notes when cooper does the thing
• ah chet! and steph. i kinda am of the idea she strategically got with him but anyways! who wouldn't! chet hot as fuck! and steph look like an assassin
• bert's shoes so small gldgldfl
• steph is definitely angry and sad dealing with bert's death in her own special way [trying to fuck chet]
• excuse me but why they turned an almost sex scene into a birthing scene 😭💀
• lucy been walking the wasteland without a shoe, how she do it 😭
• i did not pick up on cooper bartering lucy for two months' worth of vials [thanks subtitles]
• "mint condition" [looks at a bloody stump on hand] "near mint condition" now who fault is this?? lmao
• "you got problems out here too, sweetheart" like, shut up 😭
• cooper every time he interacts with a mr. handy is one of the only few places he gets to hear a voice of this old friend
• "best you try your luck behind that door" well at least he untied her
• this is like the third time he's gotten instant karma with lucy because either he pretended to keep it together until she went in or genuinely didn't know he was going to pass out but
• went through the five stages of grief trying to figure who he sold her to because i deadass was thinking the same thing lucy was 😭
• lucy being given the finger of like, a corpse or something because it's grey 😭 forever changed by the wasteland, always carrying a little bleakness and death with her ❤️
• lucy never experiencing real cotton [or maybe only rarely]
• lucy calling cooper a creature 😭
• "he put a leash around my neck and made me drink from puddle water that i'm pretty sure was some kind of animal pee" sending 😭 she talking to this evil mr. handy like it's a person
• her recounting her captivity with cooper like he was simply being mean to her is just
• "and i thought i was here to be a sex slave." "what?! no! what a disgusting idea. i'm simply going to harvest your organs." damn, fallout which one is worse, like fuck---
• hope the jello cake veronica got wasn't poisoned...
• "what are you looking at?" "a murderer in a cage, paying the price for what you did to us. for what you did to the innocent people in vault 32" and norm gets circumstantial evidence from a raider by accidentally cross examining one of them with it being more than anything woody could coax out of them
• one thing about the macleans, they smart
• i also think it's excellent writing that intrigue was spurred like this by a raider saying vault 32 wasn't innocent because they were running an experiment like all the vaults did, everything isn't so black and white
• norm reads every situation correctly because why he read chet by saying chet came along to investigate because norm reminds him of lucy fkdgkdkg
• still piecing together the full extent of vaults 31, 32, 33 together but at first i couldn't understand why it looked like so many took their own lives--- apparently them discovering what vault 31 was about started a rebellion but two years seemed so recent to me. curious how this overlaps with shady sands if it does
• they showed the spooky ass rat utopia experiment still playing on the tvs in there but i wasn't sure if this was explicit about that being vault 32's experiment
• lucy being prompted to continue on because of a flashback from her mom upon awakening 🥲
• "lucy sweetie what are you doing out here?" and those were her memories on the surface [nevermind cooper calling her [[condescendingly]] "sweetheart"]
• i did not realize the ghouls were being kept in the freezers but it looks like they either only sell ghouls or keep the ghouls "on ice" [not unlike how dom pedro would keep cooper and cut pieces off of him] and collect the organs of standard people right then and there
• "sir, you can't do this. please, i need my organs" lucy, it's just a robot bulter, he's not a real guy 😭
• the way lucy got out of this pickle quick, almost got snip snipped but short circuited the murderbot
• lucy putting her murdercap on and putting drano in the murderbot's syringes, clever girl
• it was so "star wars" of her to treat mr. handy like a person and then the guys running the organ trafficking scheme going "you might as well be holding an air conditioner hostage" 😭
• the organ traffickers running the super duper mart ring are so dull and banal evil types, it's so satire
• i just registered those two organ trafficker guys got a camera and can see cooper laid out in front of the store
• lucy freeing the ghouls 🥲and one even thanking her [even the feral ones 💀]
• poor martha, i peep how we see lucy's grey finger and it being shown used to defend herself against martha in her feral state
• organ traffickers got ate up bless
• nothing lucy did besides shoot was going to honestly stop martha, sometimes your pacifist playthrough doesn't go as planned
• the pip boys still being on and running on the not alive people in vault 32
• "death to management" and it's directly the reference to vault 31's experiment, right there
• lucy walking out of there with mismatched shoes but two shoes nonetheless ☝️
• i guess lucy sincerely did not comprehend cooper is a ghoul or ghoulification, i suppose most vault dwellers literally would never know, that's post war history, wow
• lucy asking cooper about if the vials keep him from going feral and he cannot even speak, he can only nod, from a prone position, on the ground--- the power/framing trade off is excellent
• lucy bends down, briefly rolls the gun in her hand, while cooper lies helpless, she delivers a fatal line
• "i may end up looking like you. but i'll never be like you" harbouring not enough ill will against him despite mistreatment, she gives cooper several vials, directly near his hand. didn't have to do none of that shit!
• if i was cooper, i'd be scared as hell of this lady, she took down an organ trafficking ring in a grocery store ran by two armed guys, a murderbot, with some feral ghoul hostages, all of the bad and dangerous people fucking died
• she really could've ended cooper right then and there, his devotion in season two gone be unmatched lmao
• i truly think he had a hint of a smile on his face after she helped [save his life] by anyways
• lucy walks into the proverbial sunset meanwhile this man shambles into super duper mart about to go on the biggest bender the wasteland has seen since the bombs dropped
• cooper gets so fucked up, i lost count how many things he ingested, king said all of 'em
• cooper is so goddamn famous, his film "the man from deadhorse" is just sitting next to a tv
• you could say here is where cooper has a crisis of conscience whereupon he holds the tape in his hand but truly we know already he had that centuries ago when he filmed "the man from deadhorse"
• cooper watching the scene, the very moment in his life where things started to shift--- he tries to cock an invisible fun, being unable as he remembers his trigger finger is gone [neutral, disarmed, here's where i think he decides he wants to sew on lucy's finger to his hand] it's like he's starting over, a moral rebirth but with his trigger finger
• they really made cooper say "you commie son of a bitch" in a western, just ugly propaganda
• let's examine "feo, fuerte, y formal" again! "ugly, strong, dignity" does post war cooper have two out of three on that front? is this his step into regaining dignity again?
• cooper was always playing characters, it was expected of him and he got paid for it. it feels like a wall is being torn down, something is being shed here. and maybe it's this character he's masquerading as
• cooper and lucy both having revelations in the super duper mart--- lucy realising you can't always reason and logic out of a situation and cooper being confronted with the fact you can keep your morality and sense of self intact and a horrible place and situation doesn't have to change you
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Idk who needs to hear this but... you're allowed to make things easier for yourself. You're allowed to half-ass things. You don't have to do things the way you're 'supposed' to. Yeah, you should be doing everything completely, but if you can't do that, then doing some things partly is still better than doing totally nothing.
You can sit down while doing the dishes. You can have wash baskets and trash cans in every room in your house. You can brush your teeth for twenty seconds. You can buy kiddie tooth paste. You can brush your teeth at any time of day. You can get yourself a rubber duck. You can get yourself a huge IKEA shark if you want to. You can leave the curtains closed and your bed unmade. You can shower at any temperature that's comfortable to you. You can shower with the lights off. You can shower long. You can shower short. You can cover the mirrors. You can shower in bathing clothes. You can even shower in normal clothes if it'll make you feel better. You can shower without soap. You can just use soap on the places that need it most. If touching any one part of yourself triggers you, you don't have to wash it. You can sit down while you shower. You can wear the same clothes for a week. You can decide your outfits days before you wear them. You don't have to brush your hair. You don't have to take off your shoes at the door. You can rip out the tags of new clothes.
You can add and remove whatever it is that'll make things easier and less triggering for you, even if it seems silly. Even if it only helps a little. Even if you 'should be doing it better'. You don't owe people as much as you think you do. You don't owe anyone your prettiness, your dedication. Having a mental illness or a disability is hard. Most people don't understand that, but guess what? You don't owe them an explanation. You don't have to conform to neurotypical standards of 'good'. Your depression standard of 'good enough' is allowed to be less than that.
Seeing as this got more attention than I thougght it would, I need to add; I know there's other factors. I know you can't always afford to get yourself a huge IKEA shark, I know you don't always have time to shower for forty minutes, I know sometimes you get less tips/work if you don't look pretty. The point here isn't the details, it's the mindset of the fact that the details don't matter. A job doesn't always have to be well-done, in fact, a half-done job gets you half the way there.
(I wrote this with neurodivergent/mentally ill people in mind, but a lot of this also goes for disabled people so I'll also tag that. If that's like, ableist, in any way, please tell me and I'll fix it!!! I just wanna be helpful but I know that that doesn't always mean I am)
#depression#disability#depression tips#disability tips#neurodivergent tips#disabled hygiene tips#actually mentally ill#tw depression#encouraging words
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We Both Know That it's Wrong
married!Doyoung x Married!fem!reader
Genre: Angst, light fluff?
Warnings: cheating
Word count: >1k
Note: this was supposed to be a smut but it wrote itself and idk if I like it but I wrote too much to just delete it 🥲
You scramble the eggs in your skillet furiously and when the toaster pops up, you grumble because you knew the toast should've waited a little bit longer and now the toast is gonna be too cold to spread butter on by the time you actually need to plate everything.
Doyoung comes up beside you and washes his hands at the sink.
You don't ask him why he's here. You know why he's here. He leans over and presses his lips to your temple.
He's the only source of affection you have and you love him more than you could ever explain.
"Who's gonna eat all of that?" he asks as he takes a slice of toast out of the toaster and butters it.
"John's gonna eat that," You say as you lower the fire under your pan. You're more than a little distracted to say the least.
Doyoung shakes his head, "His car's not outside. Y/n, he left."
You stop and turn to look at him, "He left? That fucking asshole had me cook this because he was just so hungry and-" You dig into your pajama pants and pull your phone out.
Doyoung turns to you and sighs, "Knock it off," he says as he gently pries the phone from your hand.
He sets it down on the counter and looks at you, "I'll get you a plate just sit down, Y/n."
You take a seat at the island counter and huff. You watch Doyoung put more toast on and he turns to you while he's waiting for it to pop up,
"I didn't get a kiss this morning."
He comes over to you and leans in for a soft kiss. Your insides come to life and he smiles because he knows nobody else does it for you quite like he does.
You watch him spread butter on toast and plate it. You imagine this being a regularly occurring thing and you sigh.
"Y'know..." he trails off as he scoops eggs into a plate, "I would always eat whatever you took the time to prepare for me... I'd eat all those cookies you bake when you're stressed out... I'd eat your leftover jams and jellies for the farmer’s market... I'd eat those homemade pickled onions you like making so much for your neighbor..."
He brings the plate over and sets it down in front of you.
"Doyoung," You sigh, "Why do you do this to me?"
"Because I want you and I know you want me too. We wouldn't be doing this otherwise."
You stab at your eggs, "I'm too mad to eat," You mumble.
"At least take a few bites. You need to eat something," he says.
You pile a fork full of eggs into your mouth then bite your toast. Doyoung smiles and comes over to sit beside you. He leans in and takes the fork from your hand. You chew slowly and sulk.
He shovels some of the eggs from your plate into his mouth and hums, "You make the best damn eggs, Y/n. Really you do," he says and looks over at you, "I can cheer you up if you want... I have all day."
You know that Doyoung is genuinely trying to cheer you up because unlike your husband, Doyoung values the process of making sure you're truly happy and doesn't think his penis is a cure-all.
You shrug, "Why is it so hard for him to treat me right?" You ask quietly.
Doyoung sighs, "Do you wanna hear some bullshit that'll make you feel better or do you wanna hear the truth?" he asks.
"The truth."
"You're not a priority. He's seeing someone else- you know that he is- and you think that because you're also seeing someone else but still playing the game that he's gonna care enough to do the same thing."
You frown because you know it's true.
Doyoung continues, "And you can't keep being mad at him because look at what we're doing... what's good for the goose is good for the gander, right?"
"Yeah... I guess you're right," You say as you look over at him.
"So I propose this to you... I will go and sit in my car... I'll wait for twenty minutes. You decide if you're coming with me... to stay this time. I know you think it'll happen all over again but it won't. I won't do what he's done. I've promised you that but it's up to you to trust me so... you have twenty minutes... if you don't come out..."
He presses a soft kiss to your lips,
"this is it. This is where we end things. I can't keep doing to my wife what he's doing to you because I'm just like him and I hate that."
With that, Doyoung gets up and starts to the door. He turns back, "Twenty minutes, Y/n," he says and you can see him taking your face in as if it's for the last time.
He walks out.
You look around the kitchen and the silence is deafening. It takes you only a minute to go upstairs and choose.
You choose to pack a bag.
You choose to leave a letter for John.
You choose to leave the bed and the house a mess because you're tired of being his maid.
You choose to leave.
You step outside and lock the front door then slide the key under the doormat.
You turn to see Doyoung in his car. He sees you and sits up with a smile. He's been fighting tears and your heart breaks because he doubted you. To be fair, you've doubted him too.
You get into the car and throw your bag in the backseat.
"Nineteen minutes," he chuckles, "You left him a letter, didn't you?"
You nod, "This isn't Gone Girl, I'm not trying to gaslight him," You chuckle.
Doyoung starts the car, "I respect that... I left a letter too," he says.
"You didn't even know how this would turn out! Jesus, Do!" You exclaim.
He shrugs,
"I've always loved you enough to take that risk."
#neoculturecollectives#nct#kpop fic#doyoung fic#nct drabbles#kpop drabbles#doyoung drabble#kvanity#ambw nct#ambw fic#nct ambw#nct x black reader#nct angst#doyoung angst#nct fluff#doyoung fluff#nct x black!reader#nct x plus sized reader
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Kinktober Day 1
Choi Seungcheol (승철) – Choking/Breath Play
Word Count: 1053
Warnings: Choking, Breath Play, Dirty talk kinda, afab!Reader, swearing, unprotected sex, cumming inside, idk what else...
A/N: I panic wrote this this evening because I hated how the original was written but this ones still pretty shitty and i didn't spell check it sry. Sorry for posting late lol. I also randomly created this banner but idk if i like it so....🤷♀️
You’re pushed against the wall of your entrance way with a gasp almost as soon as you step foot into the house. Seungcheol cages you in, arms by your head as his body presses against yours. The door is shut by his foot as his lips begin their attack on your neck.
You lean your head back against the wall with a thump, giving him further access to your flushed neck and jaw. You can feel the smirk on his lips at the way you whimper when he raises his leg to press his thigh to your crotch. Your dress has ridden up to your hips from how much squirming you were doing on the way here.
He can feel how needy you are, it being the reason your came home early from the party the both of you were at just twenty minutes ago. You had been teasing him all night long, in your tiny dress and provocative dancing.
“Do you like teasing me in front of everyone?” You hear him breathe, pulling away from your neck to look at you. When you refuse to meet his eyes, he grabs your chin and pulls your head to look at him. He’s got that devilish smirk on his lips that you know means you’re in for it.
In a split second, he’s got your dress off you, throwing it on the floor and leaving you in just your panties. “No bra?” He tuts, his hand coming up to grope your exposed breasts. He keeps his eyes trained on your face as his finger plays with your bud, rubbing and playing with it just to see your reaction.
He watches the way you bite your lip, holding back your moans and moving your head back to expose the new marks on your neck. Just seeing those marks has him hardening in his pants. His hand wanders from your breast up to your neck, fingertips brushing over the red marks that litter the area.
He watches the way you shiver under his touch, body becoming stiff against him as his hand wraps around your neck. “Do you like that baby? Do you like my hand wrapped around your throat?” He teases, fingers tightening around your neck when you let out a moan and nod the best you can.
He smirks when he sees you start to grind down against his thigh, underwear dripping with your wetness as you try to get some kind of stimulation. His free plays with the waistband of your panties before his fingers slip under the fabric and slide between your folds.
“So wet for me pretty baby.” He coos, feeling how soaked you are just from his hand around your neck. His fingertips brush against the skin on your neck as he makes you meet his dark eyes again.
He can’t help but tighten his grip on your neck ever so slightly, being careful not to hurt you but just enough so that your eyes roll back in pleasure. He’s thumb rubs your clit, eyes watching how you start to squirm at the long sought after feeling of pleasure.
He slips his forefinger into your hole, finding no resistance with how soaked you are at this point. Your hand come up to grab his shoulders, nails digging into them when he adds his middle finger. “Fuck Cheol,” You whine, the noise fading into a high pitched moan as he pumps them in and out of you, curling them upwards.
He has to hold himself back from cumming right them when your mouth drops open and the most vulgar moans spill from your lips. “Seungcheol.” You whine, begging him for more. He can’t say no, too desperate to be inside of you.
“Fuck,” He curses, pulling out his fingers and removing his hand from your neck to quickly strip himself of his shirt, jeans and underwear. They get thrown across the room, discarded somewhere as he hurries to press himself up against you again. He discards your underwear, it joining the pile of clothes around the room.
“Ready baby?” He mutters, not waiting for your answer before lining up his tip with your entrance and pushing himself inside. He can’t help himself from slamming his lips against your own in a messy and sloppy kiss as he impatiently waits for you to adjust.
As soon as you give him a nod, he’s pulling all the way out before slamming his hips right back into you. His hand grabs hold of your hip, fingers digging into the flesh there for leverage as he lifts one of your legs up and wraps it around him so he can have better access to your pussy.
His thrusts are fast and rough, hitting your g-spot every time. The sound of skin slapping is loud and it echoes around the room only overshadowed by your moans and heavy breathing.
Feeling himself getting closer to his own orgasm, he brings his hand down to play with your clit. “Gonna cum for me baby?” He groans, his free hand coming up to wrap around your neck again. He thrusts start to become more sloppy but much faster, pummelling into you.
“Cum for me,” And with that, the knot in your stomach releases. You let out a loud moan, your orgasm washing over you as your body goes limp against him. His hand tightens around your throat, his hips stuttering as he lets out a string of curses before filling you up.
He rides out both of your highs with soft, shallow thrusts before pulling out and gently setting you back on the ground. “I’d have never guessed you’d be into choking.” He mentions with a grin whilst catching his breath. You look up at him, blushing because you had no idea either.
“Never talk about this again.” You warn him but from the smirk on his face, he’ll be teasing you about it for a very long time. “Can’t promise that baby. Let’s get cleaned up.”
Tag List:
@knucklesdeepmingi @kodzukein @itbtoblikethatsometimes
#kinktober#smut#seventeen smut#svt smut#seventeen#svt#kinktober 2022#kpop kinktober#x reader#seungcheol smut#choi seungcheol#seventeen seungcheol#scoups#seventeen scoups#scoups smut#scoups x reader#svt imagines
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just saw you wrote for heartstopper...
tao x elle till i die
anyhow idk if you'd do this ( tw by the way) but charlie comforting a friend who also deals with self harm? sorry to be depressing
take care of yourself!
-💿
OMG TAOELLE HAS MY HEART 💔💔💔 ; but yeah of course, take care of yourself too 💿, otherwise I'll beat you up or smthn idk ; also sorry if I got a little too deep w this. (basically the whole premise of this sh and mental health so please be wary. very much leaned into The Ghosts We Keep. the sh scene literally got my stomach twisting and turning I didn't go that far don't worry dhsjns) ; also this is a bit of a mix of a oneshot & preference. if you don't wanna hear about the sh, just scroll down some 👍 ; also I do write for mental health stuff so dw! just be wary when reading bc I don't wanna trigger anyone
CHARLIE SPRING ; comfort for both of us
summary ; you and Charlie both struggle w sh, but you don't know he does while he knows about your struggles
warnings ; language, talk about and depictions of self harm and mental health
word count ; 839
masterlist
You told Charlie about your struggles with mental health and self harm, unknowing to his own struggles with those topics. That poor boy was all about others before himself, something you knew was a bit of a problem.
You'd been friends with Charlie since 7th year, but were never close to Tao, Elle, or Isaac, or even Nick for that matter, considering you barely knew them and never had classes with them either.
You sit on the cold, hard tile in your bathroom, waiting for Charlie. You frantically texted him earlier once you realized what you'd done to yourself, and he quickly sent back a text that he was on his way over.
That was twenty minutes ago.
You knew you could count on Charlie, seemingly your only friend, but Christ, he walked so utterly slow.
It made you rethink all your choices before, and why you did it. Jesus, you were just being dramatic, nothing was that serious. Nothing is ever that serious for you to hurt yourself, you're just being dramatic about it now.
The feeling of pressing the razor blade to your skin wasn't even relieving, nor did it feel anywhere near good anymore. It hurt, really bad, all the way through, as you hoped your body would numb up but it never did. You were supposed to be clean.
But now your wrists are still dripping blood onto the tile below, creating fine, slightly transparent pools of crimson that'd stain the tile. You were too scared and in too much pain to do anything, just begging and waiting to hear your parents welcome him in and for him to open the door next to you.
Finally, you heard it. The door opening, your parents welcoming him with a bit of question as it was seven on a Saturday, then the footsteps walking down the hall, then the knock at the door. It was light and repetitive, like there was some super secret code and you couldn't let him in otherwise.
You lightly smile at that, and pull down on the door handle, cracking it open. You scoot over on the floor, not trying to sit in your blood. His eyes immediately widen as he pushes the door open, in response to the shock he quickly enters the room and shuts and locks the door behind him.
"This is definitely worse than what you said" He comments with concern.
Adrenaline is still streaming through your veins as you shrug. "Mostly just the blood. Help me, please"
He nods, helping you up to your feet so you could sit on the countertop next to the sink. Thank God freestanding sinks weren't trendy anymore, he couldn't bend down any longer, he needed you above him for this, it made everything much easier.
He quickly grabs a washcloth and soaks it in cold water, and wipes up all the blood off the floor while he instructs you to just hold the wounds over the sink so anything dripping out would go down the drain. They hurt immensely but you pull through without crying in front of him.
He sneaks into the hallway to grab the first aid kit and sets it down, looking for gauze. He hands you two lukewarm washcloths, clean ones, and rests them over your arms, soaking up any leftover blood in a comforting manner. He finds the gauze and some tiny scissors, and removes one washcloth, and gets to work on wrapping the gauze and then the bandage around it.
"Sorry for making you come over so late for this" You mumble.
He raises an eyebrow before he answers. "It's not that big of a deal"
You wanted to fight with him on that, but you were much too tired and it wasn't worth it anyways.
He wraps up your arms, and looks up at you, his hands gently holding yours. "Why didn't you tell me before?"
You shrug, "I was clean. It just kinda happened, I guess"
he introduces you to his friends as well because you seem very lonely in and out of school
after that, you're spending a lot more time together, going out to eat, adventures, doing fun things, etc
always checking in on you
you eventually find out about his sh and you become sh buddies (name by you)
always comforting and reassuring each other
trauma bonding 🔛🔝
lots of movie nights where you guys just kinda chill out and find comfort in one another
Nick's totally fine w charlie going to you for help, as long as he's in the loop. he knows you two understand sh and your mental health better than he could for charlie
lots of words of affirmation and quality time
lots of just doing hobbies to get your minds off of things (he recommended this bc drumming helps him when he's upset)
lots of writing out and talking out your thoughts, no matter how dumb or cringe it sounds
you get matching I ❤️ hot moms shirts because why not
gifting yourselves to treats after simple tasks 💀 (me)
#lowkeyrobin#gender neutral reader#gn reader#they/them reader#heartstopper x reader#heartstopper#charlie spring#charlie spring x reader#joe locke#joe locke x reader#heartstopper x you
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moonlight
pairing: jungkook x female reader
summary: you try to let go, but jeon jungkook comes in sweet, hurricane form
genre/tags: fluff, unrequited love for a very brief minute or two, there's sadness here idk i wrote this in that same state
word count: 1.2 k
a/n: by now you'll notice that i have a penchant for writing seemingly unrequited love and cheesy confessions. i know, it's boring. this is a very short drabble that's nothing special.
In a sea of faces, you are lost.
And only ten minutes before the clock strikes twelve—
—before you have to face another new beginning, but with nothing new about those beginnings.
The drinks continue to flow, the laughter of your family and friends all around, celebrating what has passed and what is to come. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Jungkook heartily laughing with some of your friends from work. His eyes sparkle, his smile charming everyone else in the room.
—especially you. But he doesn’t know that.
Having known Jungkook since you were both ten, things between you two have always been the same— fun, quiet, comforting, platonic. You can’t remember exactly when you started to fall for him. Maybe it was when he tied your shoelaces at twelve before you were about to play your first soccer match. Maybe it was when you were fifteen and he cried with you when you received your first failing grade. Perhaps it was when you were nineteen and drunk on your ass when he took you home and tucked you in. When you woke up the following day, you realized he was lying beside you, his arms caging you in a protective stance, his head rested between your chin and shoulder.
Maybe it was when you were twenty-five and he once said I love you while he was drunk. The following morning, you carefully asked him if he ever remembered anything the night before, to which he nonchalantly replied, “Nothing, you know exactly what alcohol does to me.” You recognize so vividly how deep your heart plummeted to your stomach, how the feeling of hurt crept in, even when you knew you weren’t supposed to feel that way for him.
You also had your fair share of his dating disasters— how he used to clumsily stumble upon one of his trysts with the girl he took home. And even though you couldn’t face him for days after, he never failed to reassure you that it was alright. He was actually the more apologetic one because as he said, he disrupted your privacy. That didn’t exactly make you feel any better.
But that was who Jungkook is— caring, considerate, your best friend. And to him, you are his star, his light, his best friend.
You are jolted out of your reverie when one of your friends asked if you wanted a refill of the champagne you were drinking. You didn’t even notice that you’ve practically emptied the flute already— was this already your third glass? Fourth? Damn.
“You’ve been so out of it since we arrived, ____” your friend observes.
“Oh, yes, I think I am. All those accounts we had to handle the past week must have taken a toll on me,” you lie.
“Ah, you’re right, I will never forget all those nights we had to go on overtime. Good thing the clients were satisfied with their books. Otherwise, we might’ve never heard the end of it from the boss.”
You hum in agreement. You weren’t exactly lying. The work you do never really slows down and it wears you out more often than you would like it to, but at the same time, it serves as a temporary distraction.
“Catch you later, babe. I think my boyfriend’s already here,” your friend quips.
“Of course, I’ll catch up with you guys, later.”
“Only five minutes before we enter a new chapter. Happy new year, ____.”
“Happy new year to you too,” you reply, slightly raising your champagne flute.
Just when you were about to return to your own thoughts and misery, Jungkook stands by your side. Both of you overlook the night sky, invaded by the differing heights of skyscrapers and buildings. The stars are kind tonight— they all show up so brightly. Maybe they also wanted to greet the new year as it arrives.
You don’t miss it— the way he shuffles his feet, seemingly pondering on what to say. It’s not an unusual occurrence between the two of you, anyway. You hear his steady breaths as you try to hold onto yours.
“Are you having fun?” Jeongguk asks.
“Of course. The drinks could be better, though. We have better ones back at home,” you smile as Jeongguk chuckles. He takes a swig of his beer.
Three minutes.
“Ready for your new year’s wish?” Jeongguk asks, making you groan. “Oh come on, we do this every year, ____.”
“Yeah and almost all our wishes don’t come true,” you counter. Jeongguk chuckles once more, that melodious laugh of him making your heart pounce and hurt at the same time.
“Our wishes will come true at some point. They have to,” Jeongguk states.
“I wonder when,” you sigh. You place your flute onto the ledge. Your wish has always been the same— well, at least until last year. It has always been the same, stupid wish you personally know won’t come true.
For Jungkook to love you back.
But it seems that Jungkook has never felt the same. It shows because he almost always brings home different women for the night. You are at least thankful for all the overtime you spend at work because at least you can avoid all the awkward sounds. Jungkook has never said or done anything that would make you feel even a sliver of hope that maybe, just maybe, he feels the same way about you.
So what makes anything different now?
Two minutes.
“Come on, ____. You can’t back out of tradition now.”
You roll your eyes playfully. Jungkook suddenly takes your hand in his and you notice just now that yours was cold, whereas he was warm. Too warm.
“You and me always, right?” Jungkook looks at you differently this time. It’s softer, more loving than all the other times.
One minute.
You release a breath you didn’t know you were holding. It has been a long time coming, you thought. As much as you love Jungkook with all your heart, loving him was also painful.
And you didn’t know how much more you can take.
Less than sixty seconds. The crowds around you start counting down. You feel Jungkook squeeze your hand tighter.
Ten seconds. And Jungkook continues to look at you, a soft smile on his face.
Zero— people welcome the new year with cheers and booze.
“I wish I knew how to stop being in love with you,” you say, a tear escaping.
Jungkook doesn’t let go of your hand, his eyes still on you. Despite the roars of the crowd around you, all you can hear is silence. It was deafening.
Nervously, you look away and swallow. But you didn’t get the chance to break the awkward silence between you two because he gently turned your face to look at him once more.
And you definitely didn’t expect Jungkook, your best friend of forever, to lean in and kiss you under the fireworks. Your mind couldn’t comprehend what was happening, but your heart knows. And so you gently kiss him back, all apprehension set aside. He feels you relax into his hold and decides to kiss you deeper.
Head in the clouds, the both of you in a kind of bliss that’s both wonderful and frightening. Yet you both continue to revel at the moment, releasing a kind of love that was right there all along.
When you part, Jungkook looks at you so lovingly as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. He kisses your cheek before whispering against your ear— “You don’t have to know, ____. Because I love you, too.”
#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#jungkook fic#bts fanfiction#bts au#jungkook au#jungkook imagine#jungkook scenarios#jungkook fanfic
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fictional men & the worm question ♡
♡ how i think fictional men would respond to "would you love me if i was still a worm?" based on my own interpretation & how my bf responded
hc's/drabble → 350ish words
fandoms include: jujutsu kaisen ♡ my hero academia ♡ haikyuu!!
i did not create this idea, but the writing in this post is solely mine. do not repost/plagiarize/use my content.
cursing, no other tw's. roughly proofread, may have errors. rb + comment if u enjoy <3
“That’s a stupid question. You would never turn into a worm.” He looks at you with disinterest and you frown.
“But let’s say I do. Would you still love me?” He sighs, pinching his nose bridge. Then he gives you a flat stare. “No.”
His answer crushes your heart and you gasp. You wipe a fake tear or two from your ear, already knowing how you'll seek revenge. (Being the big softy he not so secretly is, he proceeds to comfort you in his own way and buys your favorite snacks as an apology.)
↪ NANAMI, Sukuna, Megumi ♡ AIZAWA, Bakugou, Shinsou ♡ Tsukishima, Kenma, Ushijima.
»»————- ♡ ————-««
“Of course, sweetheart. I would never stop loving you.” His hand intertwines with yours. Your heart squeezes and you smile
“Aww, you’re so sweet. Really?” He chuckles and nods, patting the top of your head.
“Course. You’d be an ugly worm, but I would love you either way.”
“Hey!”
↪ GOJO ♡ Denki ♡ Kuroo, Atsumu, Tendou.
»»————- ♡ ————-««
“Would I love you if you were a worm?” He repeats the question, sounding doubtful. You nod, and a pensive look crosses his face.
“Why would you turn into a worm?” You smile and shrug. “Just pretend I do. Would you still love me?”
He’s quiet for a bit of time before he hums. “Yes. Yes, I would.”
You smile and your heart flutters. Wondering if he has anything else to say, you slightly tilt your head to the side. “And why’s that?”
“Because you would still be you. I’m not in love with you because of your body…” he scratches his neck. “I’m in love with who you are. So if that worm was you, your soul- then yes. I would still love you.”
It takes you a minute to process everything he said. You sniffle, laughing as your eyes grow watery.
“I’m gonna cry. That’s so sweet.”
His eyes furrow and his eyes widen. “Wait- what? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you sad!”
(He then proceeds to comfort you for the next twenty minutes, assuring you that he loves you no matter what.)
↪ ITADORI ♡ KIRISHIMA, TAMAKI, Mirio ♡ DAICHI, Asahi.
a/n: idk how this format of drabbles/hcs work LOL lmk if i did okay?? i wrote them while watching a horror movie !! so slayful. pls rb + comment if you enjoyed! ♡
#mha x reader#jjk x reader#hq x reader#♡ mha#♡ jjk#♡ hq#mha x you#mha x y/n#mha fanfiction#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#hq x y/n#hq x you#bakugou x reader#aizawa x reader#shinsou x reader#nanami x reader#sukuna x reader#tsukishima x reader#kenma x reader#ushijima x reader#gojo x reader#denki x reader#kuroo x reader#tendou x reader#itadori x reader#kirishima x reader#mirio x reader#tamaki x reader#daichi x reader
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