#but no i actually just straight up wrote a whole fic of it

[lover-of-mine]

i'm freaking out because someone who watched the episode in the media was asked if after the episode will their be new buddie theories and she said she already has one but won't reveal it till after the episode. Which you can basically take that to mean something is going to happen with buck and eddie that's going to have fans theorizing/speculating after the episode. I'm honestly thinking that it's gonna be heavily teased that something happened between buddie at or after the bachelor party. like a charged moment or almost kiss but it won't be revealed at all in the episode. we will get like a glimpse of it and only eddie is going to remember pieces of it which will lead into his catholic guilt arc. and we're gonna spend the rest of the season trying to figure out what actually happened between buddie after the bachelor party and Eddie's gonna be keeping this huge secret from Buck.

it won't be revealed till the finale or something. My money is ultimately when the puzzle forms it's that buck and eddie almost kissed after the bachelor party but got interrupted by one of their many many party guests and by the finale I see Buck remembering what happened as well.

Suffice to say something is happening between buddie in this episode enough that media already has a buddie theory and she'll post it after the episode which means it will feature spoilers from this episode speculating a theory regarding buddie so that means something happens in this episode that's gonna lead fans to speculate about buddie and what happened between them?

Bestie, I literally wrote this as a fic idea right after 705 soaksasokasasok like, with how all over each other buddie seems to be you can ABSOLUTELY have a charged moment between them that doesn't connect just because they got interrupted and we don't see it until one of them talks about it later on, probably Eddie to someone, maybe Frank, and have that trigger Eddie's sexuality arc within the guilt arc, like, legit, I can see it happening, I mostly don't think the show would actually go for it, but honestly, this season keeps surprising me so... but it is a way to trigger Eddie's sexuality arc using Buck without pulling the trigger on buddie too soon, and keeping Buck oblivious to what's actually going on with Eddie while letting Buck explore his bisexuality outside of Eddie and Eddie trying to work through his own feelings would be nice. And it would be a nice parallel to Buck freaking about lying to Eddie about the date with T (because they LOVE to parallel the two of them), because Eddie would totally feel like he has to lie, because one, he doesn't understand what it means for him, two, he doesn't understand what it means for the both of them, and three if Buck is going to be infatuated about T, he wouldn't sabotage that, four, he still needs to deal with the searching for Shannon of it all, and this is a way to put the ball completely on Buck's court AND it is a way to address the emotional power imbalance that exists within buddie, because Eddie calls the shots a lot and that can't keep happening for them to be a good couple, yk? They can make Eddie explicitly make another unilateral decision about their relationship on the idea that he just knows Buck so well and knows how he's going to react, the whole I'm not enough thing could come back or just straight up use the I feel like she sees me and the I kinda can't stop thinking about him for Eddie to just decide that Buck was just too drunk and it wasn't really about him or about Buck wanting to make that change in their relationship or having feelings for him, and just expect Buck to go with it, and to have Buck reach that point where he realizes what happened and he decides to force Eddie into that conversation, I'm game, dude, like, legit, would love that. Even more, if we have some sort of emergency where both of them are in danger (trapped dads/drown Buck I will never give up on you) and you have Eddie aware to some degree and Buck being Buck without actually knowing until something happens and he's like OH FUCK and we can have the beginning of s8 addressing the will they do something about it or just keep pretending it's not there until they figure out they don't really have a choice, it's where they were going all along (buddie getting together 804 aka 100 episodes after Eddie got introduced maybe?), like, they can even have some conversation being interrupted, you can have things being said during the emergency they just don't have the chance to talk about, with the recovery or things going to hell or actually being interrupted by everyone and everything around them, especially if T is still in the mix, you can have the emergency be a season finale cliffhanger because they already have s8 confirmed and they never did a season cliffhanger and I feel like we are due one soon, and things would only be dealt with later. There's a lot to explore if something almost happens with them being drunk, and Eddie remembers but Buck doesn't. You can even add stuff like making Eddie work himself through his reactions to Buck so far or straight up confirm he has some level of awareness that his feelings for Buck are not all that platonic (Eddie fell first essay I will never give up on you) he just didn't know how to interpret that yet. It would open some fun possibilities, and considering the insistence on the triangle imagery, to make it an actual media love triangle by finally connecting the Buck and Eddie's side on a romantic level? It would add up.

#im game #its kinda crazy but it works #i have been thinking about it with how all over each other they are at that party #so #i see you #911 spoilers #911 #911 speculation #buddie thoughts #i really need a tag for asks #anon 😌

[ghcstao3]

street photographer ghost who has mastered taking the perfect candid photos without ever getting caught. he just has an eye for subjects, both mundane and unique in style, and he enjoys his work. it's just that simple.

soap is one of those subjects. there's something naturally captivating about him, the way he carries himself and seemingly bends the world to his will all around him, and ghost wastes no second doing what he does best—candids that frame their subject like they're the centre of the universe even when any other passerby might blink and miss those singular moments.

except—as ghost snaps a few more photos and briefly glances at the raw images, he sees that the man he'd been taking pictures of is looking directly down the barrel of the lens by the end of the set of photos, a grin on his face, hand blurred in a wave in the frozen frames ghost had captured.

when he puts the camera down, he sees the man still waving at him from across the street before he's quickly glancing both ways and jogging across to meet ghost.

"almost didn't see you," he breathes.

ghost bites back a that's the point, instead focusing on carefully tucking his camera back into its bag.

"i'm sorry," ghost eventually apologizes. "i'll delete them if—"

"the opposite, actually," the man cuts in. "i wanted to see them."

ghost tenses. the rare times he's been caught out usually don't... result in this. "really?"

"mhm." another bright grin. "i'm soap, by the way. or—john, if you're lookin' to be all formal like."

pulling his camera back out, ghost cocks an eyebrow. "soap?"

soap shakes his head. "don't worry about it." he winks. "unless we meet again."

ghost snorts. captivating had certainly been the right word to describe soap.

"why don't we see if you even like the photos first, yeah?"

#i was having deja vu about writing photographer ghost #thinking i had just made another post at some point #but no i actually just straight up wrote a whole fic of it #anyway. this one is Not based in the 70s like maple taffy is #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #soapghost #ghostsoap #ghoap #ghost x soap #alternate universe #writing

[caraphernellie]

last hope // e.w. ✧ [chapter one]

summary: there was little you could do to calm your excitement when you read and immediately recognised the name ellie williams in the email you received accepting your request to live on campus. sharing a dorm with your childhood best friend who you had missed so much? what a small world- it sounded like everything you could have dreamed of, like it was fate that this had brought her back to you. you could only hope that she hadn't changed, that she was still just as much a loser as you, and that things could go right back to normal. but not everyone stays the same after eleven years.

an: HELLO. OMG IM SO EXCITED FOR THIS FIC. i love it. i had the idea for a while to make a fic where ellie was this mysterious angsty roommate and i wrote the whole thing (it was a two parter) and i was not happy with it like at all. so i have completely changed the entire thing! basically. but this is so much better. and it's gonna be multiple chapters, slow burn 🫶🏻 im not sure how i feel about this first chapter pls be kind i had covid while writing this (and chapter two which i'm posting tmrw) so brain fog might have fucked this up big time but i wanted to introduce the story <3

cw: cigarettes, foster system, bitchy ellie, bad girl!ellie, good girl!reader, check masterlist for full list of content warnings !!

wc: 1.3k

if you missed the prologue you can find it here!! and the fic's masterlist right here :)

living with ellie williams is like trying to look after a disgusting animal – it’s like being a zookeeper of sorts. though you’re sure even the angry lions or crocodiles could be more pleasant than she. 

it’s this blatant lack of disrespect that just pisses you off the most. the loud music in the middle of the night, the putrid cigarette smoke ruminating in her bedroom (which could definitely get you in trouble with the dean), the way she seems to have nothing better to do than hurl insults your way.

“what the fuck are you doing in my room?”

and she’s so secretive. but you get it. you hide things from her too, after all, she had declared you her enemy. it actually made you laugh when she’d done so, which had only solidified the apparent burning hatred she had for you. you didn’t even know what you’d done. she took one look at you, recognised you to be her childhood best friend, and then decided you were everything wrong with the world.

“the fuck are you doing in my room?” she growls, a tight grip around your wrist to pull you towards the door. her nails dig into the skin.

“woah, woah, woah, ellie, i–”

“are you after my journal?” she grunts, forest green eyes glare at you. it’s a hardened gaze, and if looks could kill, you’d have been dead five times already.

“no i- i don’t- i didn’t even know you had a journal in the first place,” you say, trying to pry your wrist out of the firm grip, only for ellie to grab your other wrist now too.

“then what the hell are you doing in my fuckin’ room when i’m not here?”

“i’m just looking for my phone charger,” you mumble, looking away awkwardly. “you took it last night, remember? i kind of need it back now.”

“oh.”

the snarl on ellie’s face drops and she begrudgingly lets go of you, but she’s still eyeing you distrustfully. even though you’re telling the complete truth, her stare still makes you feel like you are doing something wrong anyway.

“you could’ve asked,” ellie mumbles, and you sigh, unplugging your charger from the socket.

“not really, i mean, you slept till noon and before i could even ask you went straight for the showers. i have work soon, so i had to come grab it.”

“text me next time, at least,” ellie mutters, pushing you towards the door with a firm hand on the small of your back. “i don’t like you snooping.”

“i wasn’t even snooping, i just–”

“you so were.”

“oh no i was not,” you say stubbornly, narrowing your eyes. “i would not willingly enter your room for longer than a minute, smellie.”

“i- sm- do i smell?” ellie mutters, stopping to sniff herself. it’s oh so charming, the act garnering a small laugh from you. “i don’t smell bad, fuck you.”

“yeah, you don’t, for once,” you retort. “i’m–”

your teasing words are cut short when the bedroom door is slammed in your face. raising your eyebrows, you nod, talking into thin air.

“mhm. okay. i mean, i thought my word play on ‘smellie’ was genius, but…”

you shrug it off, heading back to the couch to put on your shoes and plug your phone in for a little while before having to leave for work. at this point work is a nice escape. being able to get away from complicated words and numbers and of course being able to get away from ellie’s suffocating presence.

nothing but music. and so many of the people you came by in your job at the little record store down the street were so cool, it was how you’d made the majority of your friends. 

and you appreciate all those friends a lot, of course. you’re only three weeks into the semester and you know you’ll be able to rely on dina when the stress of finals week approaches later on.

you’d opted to stick to your own during high school, who cared if people thought you were some loser loner? you were focusing on studies, it’s not like your high school status would matter down the line.

but moving out of home now at nineteen meant you were going to have to find a support system that isn’t just your family– hence the sudden burst of extrovertedness you’d attempted since the start of september. you managed to find dina, and by extension, her very on-and-off boyfriend jesse, and their other friend cat.

but it feels still as though you’re missing something and you know exactly what it is, but lying to yourself is better than admitting you’re sad about ellie.

perhaps you’d got too excited after discovering she’d be your roommate. as you often do as an overthinker, you got your hopes up only to be let down.

ellie was supposed to be nice, still. in your head that inner child in you thought over how fun it’d be to basically have daily sleepovers with your old best friend, amusing yourselves over the same inside jokes, catching up and being able to navigate some of the crazier years of life with her.

but she pretty much crushed that dream with the way she took a step back after recognising you, and the words she said.

“what made you think i was going to be a dork like you still?” she laughed dryly. “that’s just unrealistic.”

and it hadn’t hit you at first as to why she acted like this. of course, it’s just as you feared. she’d moved out of boston to god knows where with god knows who and morphed into this mean, rowdy girl. the grown-up version of ellie isn’t who you thought she’d be, and at this point you felt you only had yourself to blame for feeling let down.

she was right, after all. it’s just unrealistic to think that after eleven years, she’d be the same.

if it’s not ellie’s overarching bitchy attitude she always carries, it’s the fact that you clash heads in every which way. she’s made it a point to snub you for being some kind of ‘goody-two-shoes.’ you told her it was immature, cringe even. the only response garnered being a scowl on her face.

after tying the laces of your docs, you sit for a moment. ellie barges out of her room again, not something you hadn’t predicted what with the loud sound of her feet you’ve grown used to already.

she’s carrying her whole bag, pens spilling right out the unzipped pockets. and almost like some kind of decrepit monster in a movie she pauses, taking a moment to glare at you. “what now?”

“huh?” a brief moment of silence is interrupted by you stifling a laugh. “dude, you came out here basically guns blazing, and you’re shocked that i’m looking?”

“i’m late,” ellie mutters with a frown, not bothering to pick up the mess she’s left behind as she laces up her converse. she doesn’t bother to sit down. “y’know, because i actually made friends in our classes. so–”

“crazy story, bro,” you say disinterestedly, leaning back into the couch. ellie sighs a moment before glaring in your direction again.

“you are a miserable person.”

“as if you’re any better,” you protest. it’s definitely a matter of butting stubborn personalities– it’s not like you want to fight with ellie like this. but your pride isn’t going to let you sweep her indecencies aside just because she used to play mermaids with you in the summer.

it’s just this part of you that can’t help but worry a little bit. she had to have spent years in the foster system. you’d worried all throughout your teenage years, hoping she’d have been treated fairly in the very least, though knowing in some place deep down that she probably wasn’t.

her excessive sleep, her bad habits, hell, even the attitude you can’t move past. it all has you a little bit concerned. 

rising to your feet and grabbing your keys, you move past ellie. 

“i’m working the closing shift tonight, so don’t be waiting on me, just because i’m sure you will.”

your jest earns a chuckle and a cluck of the tongue from ellie.

“riiiight, riiiight. i’ll be naively waiting around for you just like you did for eleven years.”

"i know you're flattered that i was still thinking of you, but there's no need to keep bringing it up."

"you're ridiculous."

taglist: @dinasvampgf @fadedin2u @eurewili @diddiqueen @machetegirl109 @craz1er4you @divinediors @onlinelesbo @thecowardwrites @readbydayana @slut4mascss @unicorniusfallapatorius @littlegingerperson2 @feelsoseencantdream

boy this app wanted to test my patience while i was formatting everything...

#ellie williams x reader #tlou2 x reader #ellie williams x fem reader #fem reader #⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ fanfic #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x yn #ellie x reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie x you #ellie x yn #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie fanfic #ellie fanfiction #lesbian #sapphic #x reader #x fem reader

[python333]

need a ride? — python333

— — — —

synopsis ur walking home from school and theres a weirdo following you, luckily the 141 are there and they help u out!! :3

relationships platonic!taskforce 141 & gn!reader.

characters cap. price, soap (for like 2 seconds, so sorry soap enjoyers), ghost, gaz.

word count 2.4k

warnings a creepy old man following [reader], [reader] intended to be in high school, 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of y/n [your name].

note i have like 5 drafts and all of them are requests from people so im so sorry i havent been working on those!! i pinky prom once i get the motivation to write them--which probably sounds weird since i wrote this but trust me when i had to force myself to write this lmao--i will be posting them :3 i hope u all enjoy this fic, its all fluff and emotional hurt/comfort + protective-ish 141!!

You really wish you had listened to that first warning light. 

For a whole two days, your car had been in an auto repair shop, because you decided to ignore four whole warnings signs that something was seriously wrong with your car. Suspension and alignment issues, they’d told you yesterday, The wheels need to be realigned, the damaged suspension components need to be replaced, and the whole thing would take a day or two.

Fast forward to now, it’s 3:30 in the afternoon and you’ve been walking from school to your house for about ten minutes. The sun is close to being fully set—one of the worst parts of winter—and there’s been a guy following you for about five minutes now. 

He showed up once you’d exited the school premises and since then had been very determined to follow you home. You obviously did not want this to happen. But it didn’t matter if you walked faster, because he would only match your pace. If you tried to run, you assume, he’d just run after you, and seeing as he had far longer legs than you—you were pretty fucked if you decided to run. 

You would try to call an Uber, but your phone had been dead since fifth period. And you would try and catch a bus or something, but there were no bus stops near where you live, and even if there were, you weren’t carrying any cash or any cards on you. 

So, again, you’re pretty fucked. 

You look back at the man again, and turn your head right back around to look ahead of yourself once you see him looking right back at you, closer than you remember him being. Is he walking faster? Do I have to walk faster? 

You let out a shaky breath and keep walking, speeding up your walk just a bit and widening your strides, trying to think of what you should do. You didn’t want to just lead him to your house, that was just stupid. But you couldn’t just not go home—where else would you go? 

You continue to walk, speeding up a bit when you start to hear the man behind you speed up, and you try to control your panicked breathing. What are you supposed to do? You mentally curse yourself out for not carrying any self defense on your person, and continue your walking. 

Then suddenly, as if they were sent by God himself, you see four men come into view—one with a mohawk, one wearing some sort of skull mask-balaclava, one with sunglasses on even when the sun is almost set, and one with a boonie hat on—all walking together, all engaged in a casual conversation. 

You wonder for a moment if you should try and get closer to them to see if the guy would leave you alone. You hear the guy behind you speed up as you think and you take a deep breath before walking significantly faster to get closer to the men ahead of you. 

Am I really gonna trust a group that has a guy wearing a fucking skull mask in it? You hear the man behind you speed up as well and you speed up in retaliation, trying to think more about what to do, Do I just walk near them or do I straight up pretend I know them?

You think that the second option would be more likely to ward the weirdo following you away, but how would you even go about it? Do you just walk near them, or actually talk to them and join in on their conversation? 

You look behind you again and see the man significantly closer to you.

Deciding to take the risk, you rush up to them, swallowing down your panic when you hear the man behind you’s footsteps speed up to try and match your own speed. 

“Hey, guys!” All four of the guys turn around to look at you, their expressions all varying looks of confusion as you continue to talk, “Crazy seeing you guys here, it— it’s been so long.” 

You try to get as close to them as possible while not touching them and end up standing right by who you assume is the oldest. You try to subtly gesture to the man who was just following you, and the man you’re standing next to seems even more confused for a moment. 

“Uh, I don—” One of his friends cuts him off with a swat to the arm and when he turns his head to look at them in confusion, they nod over at the man whose just now catching up with you, and his mouth shapes into an ‘o’ before he looks back at you with a bit more understanding in his eyes. 

“Right, yeah, it has been really long,” He corrects himself, the other two of his friends catching on and stepping closer to you, almost creating a shield around you. He looks you over for a moment, before asking, “You just get out of school?” 

“Yeah, yeah, I did,” You nod, grateful that they caught on, hoping your gratitude is somewhat apparent, “About ten minutes ago.”

“Nobody picked you up this time?” The older man asks, tilting his head to the side a bit. Out of the corner of your eye, you see the man who’d been following you getting closer, but you force yourself to ignore him. 

“Yeah, no, everyone was kind of busy, so I have to walk home,” You respond, shoving your hands into the pocket of your hoodie to hide their shakiness as the other man stopped to stare at you two’s conversation. 

“Aw, well that sucks,” The other man frowns, before offering, “I was just heading back to my car, I could drive you back to your house? It’s on the way to the hotel we’re staying at, anyway.” 

You hesitate, trying to see if the man who’d been following you was still there, and much to your disappointment, he was. It was like he was just waiting for you to make a decision. 

Not knowing if you had any other choice, you nod affirmatively, “Yeah, sure. If that’s okay.” 

The older man gives you a small smile and pats your shoulder, “Of course it’s okay. I don’t want you just walking out here by yourself.”  

You almost sobbed in relief when you heard the creep that was following you scoff and finally walk back to wherever he came from after hearing that you accepted their offer of a ride. The older man takes his hand off of your shoulder and looks over, noticing the man has left as well, then looks back at you with a more concerned expression on his face. 

“Sorry, I almost gave you away at the beginning there,” He sincerely apologizes. 

“It’s fine, he probably didn’t even notice,” You put on a small smile and take a deep breath before adding on, “Thank you for that. I didn’t think he was ever gonna go away.” 

“Yeah, no problem,” The older man smiles at you, and tacks on, “I was serious about the ride, by the way. If you’re comfortable with that, of course.” 

You pause for a moment at that and think about if you trust them enough to have him drive you to your house and know your address and everything. 

“It’s my car, by the way,” The guy with the sunglasses butts in, “I’m the one paying for it. No clue why he said it was his.” 

“Because it was easier than saying it was yours,” The other guy sighs. 

“Actually—” The one with a mohawk interrupts, before immediately being cut off by the other two with a simple ‘shut up’. He rolls his eyes, and does indeed shut up. 

The one with a skull mask must notice your slight confusion, because he comments, “We’re renting a car for this week. Gaz is paying for it.” 

“Don’t call me Gaz in public,” Gaz grumbles, “That’s weird. Just call me Kyle.” 

“That sounds weirder,” The one with the skull mask argues, before the one with the almost-bucket hat sighs exasperatedly, the sound enough to make the two others shut up. 

“Uh…” All their attention is back on you as you talk, making you resist the urge to shrink back in on yourself, “I mean, if you guys are totally okay with it, then I’d be… okay with getting a ride home.” 

“Great!” Gaz smiles at you before dropping the smile and turning to the one with the skull mask, “You’re getting an Uber or something. I’m not driving you after that.” 

“Wh—” The one in the skull mask, despite you only being able to see his eyes, looks baffled, “I didn’t do anything, fuckin’ kick out Soap or something!” 

“Me? Why me?” The one with the mohawk—Soap, you assume—squawks, watching as Gaz actually thinks about it before nodding. 

“Good point. Soap, call an Uber so…” Gaz pauses before turning to you, “What’s your name, love?” 

You give him your name and he nods before turning back to Soap, “So that [y/n] can take your spot in the car.” 

“I—” Soap begins to argue, before sighing and rolling his eyes, reaching into his back pocket for his phone, “Fine. Whatever. Fuck all of ye.” 

“Sorrows, sorrows, prayers,” Gaz says dryly before turning back to you, “The car’s just another block up.” 

“Got it,” You nod, “So I should just follow you guys then, or…?”

“Yeah,” Gaz confirms, “Stay a little closer in case that guy decides to come back, or if anyone else tries to follow you, alright, love?” 

You nod again and take another step closer to the man with the skull mask and follow everyone else as they continue walking down to their car. They’re silent for the rest of the walk back, the man in the skull mask and the one with the almost-dad-going-fishing-hat keeping an eye out for any creeps while Gaz leads the way to the car. 

Once you’ve all reached the car, Gaz unlocks it and the man in the skull mask and the one in the almost-bass-pro-shops-hat immediately get into the back seats, letting you have shotgun. You mentally thank them for it and wordlessly get into the passenger’s seat, happy that it’s not too dirty in the car, closing the car door once you’re in. 

You buckle yourself in immediately and look right out the front window whilst Gaz gets in. This definitely won’t end up in me being kidnapped, You tell yourself, Totally not. This is the best idea I’ve ever had. Getting in a car with someone who goes by Gaz, someone who wears a mask from Spirit Halloween, and someone’s dad who somehow ended up here. Fucking perfect idea. I should do this more often.

Gaz gets in and buckles himself in, putting the car key into the ignition and twisting it, starting up the engine. You continue to stare out the window wordlessly as Gaz pulls out of the parking lot he’d been in and gets onto the road. 

“Could you give me the directions to get to your place?” He asks you once he’s stopped at a red light right outside of the parking lot. Silently, you nod. 

“Yeah, just, uh, keep going straight then take a left on Monroe,” You instruct him quietly. He nods and presses on the gas once the light turns green, continuing straight like you’d said. 

“You alright?” The bearded man in the back pipes up, making you twist your head back to look at him. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” You assure him, half-lying, “Just a little tired and creeped out.” 

“Reasonable,” He hums, before adding on, “I’m John, by the way, and this is Simon.” 

Simon, the dude wearing the Spirit Halloween mask, perks up at the sound of his name, but otherwise doesn’t say anything. 

“Good to know,” You respond, wondering if you should say anything else before awkwardly turning back in your seat to continue staring out the window, watching as Gaz takes a left. 

“Take the next right, then just continue straight and then take a right on Balboa,” You tell him. He nods and takes the next right just as you told him to. 

It’s probably safe to assume they aren’t kidnapping you, You think, your breathing finally back to normal now that you know you’re probably not in any danger. 

“So what’s with the name ‘Gaz’?” You ask Gaz without thinking, tired of the silence in the car. Based on the way Gaz groans and John huffs out a laugh, you assume it’s somewhat of a long story. 

“It’s kind of a long story?” Bingo. “But in short, I just don’t talk too much, and someone decided to make a big deal out of that.” 

“I never made it a big deal!” John insists, all while Simon looks at him like he knows he’s lying, “It’s just a nickname!” 

You listen in on their bickering, grateful to finally have some noise in the car, and huff out a small, amused laugh at their antics. 

Soon enough, Gaz is turning right on Balboa, and he drives right into your neighborhood. 

“It’s the house right up there,” You point to it, and he looks at the house you pointed at and speeds up a bit to reach it faster. 

Once he’s at the house he thinks you pointed at, he asks, “This one, right?” and pulls into the driveway when you nod in confirmation. 

He parks the car in your driveway and turns off the engine, immediately unlocking the car and turning to you. 

“Well, I hope you have a good rest of your day,” He says politely, offering you a smile. 

“Thank you, you too,” You smile back, feeling a little bad for being so eager to get out of the car. Then again, you really just want to get inside of your house where it’s safe, so you quickly unbuckle your seatbelt and open the car door. 

You carefully get out and close it behind you, fishing your keys out from your back pocket, walking up to the front door of your house and unlocking it, only hearing Gaz’s car pulling out of your driveway after you’ve successfully opened your front door. 

You yawn as you walk in, and close the door behind you, toeing off your shoes and leaving them by the front door.

You think, in the back of your head, about how weird it is that you didn’t get kidnapped despite that being the perfect opportunity for them to do so—but you don’t think about it too hard. You’re just grateful to have gotten home safe.

#cod #cod hcs #hcs #task force 141 #tf141 #captain john price #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #platonic taskforce141 #simon ghost riley #platonic task force 141 #platonic task force 141 x reader #platonic cod #task force 141 x reader #price #soap #ghost #gaz #its 2:44 am currently #and i dont feel tired #which is an issue #because i really need to go to sleep #but its fine!!! #yall ever think about the 141 just being ur dads to fall asleep and just think about them comforting you to sleep #no?? just me?? #alright then #fluff #hurt/comfort #emotional hurt/comfort #technically proofread

[patrophthia]

attention is what i want! | theo. nott

pairing: theodore nott x fem!reader

genre: pining, one sided crushes, angst !!, complicated feelings, theo is a dick tbh, humor (my attempt at it), reader embarrasses herself (multiple time), girls girls pansy, reader are friends with the golden trio but isn’t a gryffindor, cursing, drinking, a bit suggestive in the end hehe

wc: 4.3k (idk how it got this long, i planned to write sth with like 2k at most but it kept going)

note: i wrote this while listening to attention by new jeans for two hours straight (yay pining!) i have very mixed feelings for this fic but here it is anyways!

summary: it’s no secret that you have a crush on theodore nott, theo knows it, hell the whole school knew it; maybe if they didn’t then it’d be easier for you to get over him after you embarrassed yourself in front of the whole school. at least you got a new friend because of it.

To say you had a crush on Theodore Nott would be an understatement. You never actually confessed to the Slytherin but it's as clear as days that you were into him. 

And when he was as good looking as he was, could anyone really blame you? 

Not really, not when most of Hogwarts found your attempt at shooting your shot with him the most amusing thing ever. 

"Good morning, Nott." Your hand shot upwards the second the Slytherin enters the classroom. His eyes settling on you whilst his friends bickers behind him. "I saved you a seat." 

There's snickering from behind you, hushed whispers as your classmate gossips about your pathetic attempt at getting with Theodore once more. 

His eyes scans the room, finally settling on one of the two empty seats behind the class and B-lining towards it. Zabini, having lost to Malfoy at grabbing the seat next to Theodore smiles at you kindly. Maybe even apologetically as he sits next to you. 

"Better luck next time?" He offers, trying to lighten your mood and you smile back, nodding. "You'll get him eventually." 

And though your voice is low, barely audible and muffled; Zabini still manages to hear you huff out a: "doubt it." 

"Do you think he'd pay attention to me if I dyed my hair green?" You ask, playing with your hair. 

Sure, your hair would end up damaged but if it meant Theodore would spare a glance your way then you'd take it. 

Harry looks at you as if you'd grown an extra head, green eyes enlarged as he tries to gauge whether you were serious or not. "Excuse me?" 

"I think I could pull of forest green hair." 

Hermione rolls her eyes. "No, you can't." She doesn't really mean it though, she does agree that you'd probably pull off forest green hair but she'd rather you do it for your own personal wants rather than to gain someone else's attention. "And you won't." 

You only huff at her words. "Why not?"

"Because, it's stupid. You'd look stupid doing so." Mione doesn't bother sugarcoating it, she doesn't need to when you've known her as long as you have. "If you need his attention so badly then ask him out, just drop the question and get it over with." 

"I'm trying to!" You groan, passing your plate with leftovers over to Ron who accepts it gladly. "I could walk naked in front of him and he wouldn't even bat an eyelash." 

Ron face scrunches at the idea, finding the prospect of a naked you disgusting. "You could put up a banner," he suggests through a mouthful of food. "I'd notice someone if they put up a banner with my name on it." 

And when Hermione's whacked Ron at him encouraging what she deemed was self destructive behavior, the conversation shifts to something else completely. 

You're huffing and puffing when you straighten up, showing your three closest friends what you'd been working on for the last two days. "What do you think?" 

Ron gasps loudly, eyes wide as he takes in the imagine in front of him. "You're crazy." 

"If you'd just—" Hermione, as if it was second nature, reaches up and smack at his arm. "—learnt how to shut up, this wouldn't have happened." 

It's only natural for you to frown at their reaction, brows knitted as you asked them. "Is it too much?" 

Harry, and his sweet sweet soul tries his best to not hurt your feelings as he nodded. "Maybe?" He tries to soften the blow, adding on: "I think it's brilliant, it's just ... a lot." 

You look over your masterpiece. Reading out the glittering paint, letter by letter and watching it as it takes shape into one of the biggest banner you've seen at Hogwarts by far. 

Written in shining green paint were the words: 

A-T-T-E-N-T-I-O-N, attention is what I want. Nott, go out with me? 

"I mean, if anything you'll definitely get his attention with that," Harry says, blinking rapidly at the banner. "It's pretty hard to miss." 

"Let's hope so." 

The dining hall is louder than normal, it has always been noisy; having seated thousands of teenagers who had little to none supervision during their breakfast, lunch, and dinner. 

But like Theodore has noted earlier, it's noisier than normal. And the drop of voices is significant when he steps through the large doors, loud gossips turns to hushed whispers; eyes roaming between him and a figure by the Gryffindor table. 

It doesn't take him long to notice why, a dust of glitter falling down on him from above. He glances up, eyes squinting as he reads out the banner before him. 

A-T-T-E-N-T-I-O-N, attention is what I want. Nott, go out with me? 

The letters are bright, glinting under the candle light as if it was taunting him, pushing at his buttons for a reaction. And though, there was no name written on the banner to indicate who'd made it; he knew that it was you. 

Dark eyes narrows as he zones in on you. You dressed up nicely, watching him with a pretty smile on your waiting face. 

And when all he did was roll his eyes and turn towards the Slytherin table, without sparing you another look. You all but deflated in front of everyone's eyes. 

You knew it was stupid, and that it was all your fault to make your love life so public for everyone to entertain themselves with, but you can't help but feel hurt at the laughter bubbling through out the hall. 

You're scrambling out of your seat, rushing out of the hall when a voice shouts out. "Serves you right, pick me!" 

Oddly enough, it's Pansy who speaks up; her voice loud and clearly irritated when she shouts back, telling them to go and: "Fuck yourself." 

Why the Slytherin threw a dirty glare at her friend and ran after you despite the two of you not being friends —let alone having been seen together before, was a mystery to everyone. 

And since Hermione loves you too much for her own good, she’s quick to scramble out of her seat, casting a spell to set the banner up in flames as she rushed after Pansy and you. 

There’s a sort of guilt that Hermione feels when she finds you hunched over with Pansy’s hand running up and down your back. The two of you weren’t friends, neither is Hermione and Pansy but when a girl’s in need of comfort, it’s only normal for them to be there for her. 

“I don’t get why you’re into him, honestly,” Pansy grits out, “out of all the boys in Slytherin you just had to choose the dickhead, didn’t you?” 

Hermione can hear you sniffle out a laugh as she takes a seat on your other side. “Out of all the boys in Hogwarts you just had to choose the dickhead, huh?” 

Pansy and Hermione are sharing a grin as you lift your head up slightly, a small smile tugging at your lips. “It’s not like I wanted to like him, you know?” You say with a small laugh. “I guess I’m just attracted to an asshole.” 

“You’re guessing this now?” Pansy says with a roll of her eyes, there’s no venom in her tone, only playful annoyance. “This isn’t the first time he’s treated you like this. I’ve heard all about your … attempts, you know?” 

“Really?” You’re laughing and the hurt in your tone is clearer than ever. “How embarrassing.” 

“It’s not,” Hermione reassured you, “if anything I think it’s endearing.” 

“Me making a fool of myself for a guy is endearing to you?” 

Pansy giggles at your words. “I’ve done worse, maybe just not so publicly.” Her voice is playful when she adds on, “but this should be the final nail in the coffin right? Finally getting over that asshole after this?” 

“That asshole is your best friend,” you remind her and she looks to her side bashfully. 

“That doesn’t excuse him for being horrible to you,” she mumbled. “And I thought Draco was bad.”

“Malfoy is bad,” Hermione chimes in. “He just didn’t humiliate you like Nott did her.” 

Pansy tilts her head to the side in thought. “Maybe. Or maybe we should just stop dating Slytherin guys over all.” 

Hermione only smiles fondly at her words. “Maybe.” 

You’re doing fine. Or as fine as one could be after a publicly humiliating confession. You’re still very you, smiling at Theodore every chance you get even though you’ve told your friends (now extended to Pansy) multiple times that you were getting over him. 

The only BIG difference that anyone noticed after your rejection was that you no longer attempted to get closer to Theodore. You don’t save him seats, you don’t tell him good morning, and they’d be lying if they said it wasn’t weird. 

“Is this seat taken?” 

You look up, eyes widening at the person in front of you and nodded. “I’m saving it for someone.” You pray to Merlin that he doesn’t hear the waver in your voice as you did so. “Is there something you needed?” 

He doesn’t answer you, instead placing his book bag on your desk. You try to control the butterflies caged in your stomach, fluttering at the sight of his forearm flexing as he did so. “You’re saving it for me? Like always?” 

You blink at him. “… no. I’m saving it for Blaise.” 

“Huh,” he hums thoughtfully, “you’re in first name basis now?” 

You move to your right when he takes his seat to your left, trying to distance yourself from him. “What do you want?” 

He looks at you and your pretense of being over him crumbles all over, tumbling as he nearly knocks you off your feet just how intense his gaze is. And though you’ve always wanted his attention, for him to look at you back like he’s doing now. You can’t help but feel sick to your stomach with how much you still liked him. 

“Attention is what you want, right?” 

What is he playing at? “Not anymore.” 

“Shame.” There’s a slight smile at your answer. “I was finally ready to give it to you.” 

“He said that?” Pansy repeats your words back to you, her hand moving away from your face as she dips it back into the face mask she’d mixed up. “That’s weird.” 

“That’s what I thought,” you murmur, feeling Hermione kick her feet into your lap. “I’m so confused right now.” 

“Maybe he’s playing hard to get?” Hermione suggests. “Even if he is I hope he knows the only hard thing he’s getting is a rock thrown at his face.” 

It’s clear that she’s taken your rejection harder than you did, grumbling at the thought of him. “A text book if he’s lucky.” 

Pansy finishes up your face mask and sets the bowl down. “I told him to apologise to you, not to go and bother you," she says, frowning slightly.

“You told him to apologise?” The tone of the conversation shifts, downing just the slightest bit. 

Pansy avoids your eyes as she nods, “I just wanted him to say sorry for how he treated you, you didn’t deserve that. But that fucker decided to go and do something weird, I’m sorry, lovely.” 

When she’s taken up the nickname lovely for you, you don’t know. But you’re too much into your head to say anything about it. “Please don’t do that. Don’t meddle with this just because you pity me. I can handle this by myself.” 

“I don’t—” Pansy pauses, realising the weight of her actions “—I’m sorry, I promise I’ll leave you be.” 

You’re nodding when you tell her: “thank you.” 

Trying to jot down notes does nothing to soothe your nerves, and it definitely doesn’t distract you from the fact that Theodore Nott is sitting so damn close to you. So close that your thighs were touching, and that with any small move you made, your shoulder brushes against his. 

Moving your chair to the right is no use, not when he’d move his just so he’d be closer to you. You’re so close you could practically hear him breathe. 

It’s when your quill slips off of your desk that you have to confront him about it. You nudge at his thigh with yours, forcing them to his left only for him to look at you curiously. “Can you move?” 

“Why?” He asks instead, planting his thighs where they’d been. 

“My quill fell, I need to get it.” You explain, avoiding his eyes as best as you could. His attention is not good for your heart, maybe it two weeks ago, but it definitely wasn’t now. 

Theodore is uninterested and unmoving when he quipped back. “And you can’t get like this?” 

Not if you didn’t want to plan your face on his lap and be so terribly close to his— yeah no. You sigh, leaning forward to tap at the person’s in front of you shoulder. “Would you mind getting my quill for me please? It’s bit hard for me to reach.” 

The person in front nods and leans down to get it for you with a smile. And when they hands it to you, their finger brushing against yours, you distinctly feel Theodore press himself closer to you. 

“You could’ve borrowed mine,” Theodore says lowly, eyeing you from above. 

He’s slightly taller than you, even when you’re both sat. Trying to prove to him (and yourself) that you were over him, and that this close proximity did not matter to you; you strain your neck up to glare at him. “You could’ve moved.” 

“Maybe,” he concurs. “And you could’ve just asked for me to get it for you.” 

“Like you’d do that,” you murmur with a roll of your eyes. “For me of all people.” 

“For you of all people,” he repeats. 

You hate how you instinctively break away from his gaze, looking at your notes as you try to calm your beating heart. Two weeks is nearly not enough to time to get over a crush you’ve been harboring for the longest time, not when you liked him so much you didn’t bother to keep it a secret to anyone and he knows it. 

He knows it and he’s using it as an advantage, for what exactly you don’t know. What you do know, is that you need to get away from Theodore Nott. Or kiss him. Whichever works. 

You sigh, glancing at your hands and hope that your voice doesn’t tremble when you quietly ask him. “What are you playing at Theodore?” You’re exasperated and he can hear it, he can hear the exhaustion in your voice and he tries his best not to let it get to him. “I know Pansy told you to apologize but you’re not apologizing, you’re just making things worse.” 

He doesn’t say anything, though you can still feel his eyes on you. “Excuse me, Professor,” he says suddenly, his shoulder knocking yours as he stood up, “I’m feeling a bit under the weather, would you mind letting me slip to the infirmary?” 

His hands are on you, holding firmly onto your wrist as he speaks. “It’s best if I had a friend to help me.” The professor doesn’t get a chance to respond before Theodore is pulling you away from the class. 

Your words are jumbled, flailing as you try to match up his pace; you’re confused and against your better judgement, you trust that he wouldn’t hurt you —even if he’d done so many times before. 

He comes to a halt by a hallway, it’s quiet still; students having yet left their classes. 

He looks at you, dark eyes clouding with emotion and tries to get you to look at him. Practically begging for you to give him your attention before speaking. “How am I making things worse? It’s what you wanted isn’t it?” 

“It is,” you say after a minute. “It’s just— this isn’t how I wanted it.

I like you, Theodore. A lot and I’ve made it so clear so many times and you always made it clear that you didn’t like me back. I finally try to get over you and you do this? What even is this? What are you trying to get at, Theo?” 

He doesn’t answer you, his hand finally releasing the grip on your wrist to rest by his side. 

You scoff, noting how he falls back to his pattern of not speaking to you when you’re practically pouring your heart out to him. 

“Why did never ask me out?” 

Your expression is puzzled, and he knows that he needs to explain himself, for him to tell you exactly what he meant but can’t bring himself to. Not when he wants to keep his pride in check.

“I did ask you out,” you tell him slowly. “In front of everyone.” 

“Exactly,” his reply is breathless as if he had been pondering over this for ages, “in front of everyone. Why didn’t you tell me you like me? Why didn’t you ask me when it’s just you and I?” 

“Are you serious?” You let out a ridiculing laugh. “You never wanted to step a single foot next to me and you expected me to ask you when it’s just me and you? Are you kidding me? 

Did you ever wonder why I wrote ‘attention is what I want’?” 

He’s speechless. And screwed. He can sense that you’re growing agitated with him, and he hates it. 

“Would it have changed anything if I had asked you out between you and I?” 

His silence is loud enough for you to understand his converted answer. 

“Merlin, why did you bring me out here, Theodore?” 

Theodore is bad at emotions. He’s bad at feelings, he’s bad at love and everything alike. He doesn’t like you and he’s pretty sure of it. Then why does it bother him so much to know that you no longer wanted anything to do with him. 

“I don’t know.” 

“Of course you don’t.” You meet his eyes and he knows that this is the end, you’re done with him for good. “Out of all the boys in Hogwarts you just had to be the one I liked, huh?”

“And that’s it?” Ron ask curiously. “You’re finally getting over him?” 

“Mhmm,” you hum, waving at Pansy who waved at you from the end of the dining hall, her Slytherin friends pointedly looking between you, Pansy, and Nott. “Finally am.” 

Ron doesn’t need to know that despite your mind being set on getting over Nott, your stomach still did somersault every time you see him —even in your peripheral vision. 

And when you smile at him, much like you did to everyone else and he doesn’t smile back at you; you feel your heart break all over again. 

It’s your own fault though, falling for a mere stranger who you’d only ever spoken to in classes —all of which having been conversations about school. 

“Do I get reward?” 

Hermione rolls her eyes. “A reward for doing something we’ve been telling you to do for ages? You wish.” 

“I’ve been wishing for something else.” The mischievous look on your face is enough to clue her in on where your mind as gone, scrunching her face as she scowls at you. “Gross.” 

“Are you okay though?” Harry asks you lowly. “I know it can be hard to get over crushes.” Take him and Chang for example. “So if you need anything we’re here for you.” 

“I’m okay,” you tell him. “Or at least I’ll be.” 

Harry offers you a smile, as kind as always. “That’s good then.” 

It’d only be weird for you to visit the Slytherin common room often (courtesy of Pansy) and for you to not run into Theodore at least once. 

You’re standing outside the common room, waiting for Pansy to come and get you when the door swings open and he stands there in front of you. He’s in his pajamas, an oversized sweater pooling at his hands. 

“What are you doing here?” 

Though you’re also in your pajamas, you feel slightly underdressed under his eyes. Only having worn a loose T-shirt and shorts for girls night. 

You want to ask him what he’s doing here but it is his house’s common room so you withheld your question to yourself. “Pansy.” 

He gives you a once over before glancing back into the common room, it’s roaring with laughters; a bunch of the Slytherin boys deciding to play card games as they indulge themselves with the alcohol they bought with their father’s money. 

“Let me walk you in,” he offers, already turning back into the common room; expecting for you to follow after him. 

“You don’t need to—” you don’t get to finish your words when Theodore throws you a sharp look. As if he was asking you to protest him on this. You sigh, following after him. 

Theodore stays a good distance away, hiding you and your bare legs from the other Slytherins. He doesn’t really have to though, most of them minding their own business until Blaise chirps up to say hi. 

“Hello,” you greeted him back, waving at him. Crabbe, now noticing your interaction lets out a low whistle at the sight of you. And Theodore moves closer to you, almost possessively. “I’ll see you in the morning?” 

“Mhmm,” Blaise says, humming before turning his attention back to Enzo. “Goodnight, princess.” 

There’s a snicker from Goyle, smirking as he says. “You’re stealing Nott’s girl now?” 

You only offer him a smile, feeling Theodore come in over closer to you as he hurries you up the stairs. There’s a thump! from behind and you knew, without seeing, that Blaise threw a pillow at the bastards face. 

Theodore doesn’t try to hide his amusement when you curse a hex in Crabbe and Goyle’s way, not when Mattheo’s laughter roared across the room at your spell. 

“Thank you,” you tell Theodore, and you noticed that his lips are curled; why exactly, you don’t want to know. “Goodnight, Theodore.” 

You’re halfway up the stairs when he calls your name, you turn to him. “Yes?” 

“Goodnight,” he says, turning on his heel to leave. 

You turn back up the stairs, only to pause and look back at him once, twice; before setting off to find Pansy. 

It’s two weeks later when Theodore bumps into you again, this time; quite literally. His hands are on you, stilling you so you wouldn’t fall flat on your ass. 

The dance floor is crowded, but it’s to be expected when one of the most popular students at Hogwarts (read: Blaise Zabini) is throwing a birthday party. 

You’re —by extension through Pansy, a friend of his which means you needed to be there or he’d be pretty (very) sad about it and pester you about it for the rest of your life. 

“Woah!” Your hands lay awkwardly on his chest, trying to push him away whilst trying to balance yourself still. “Watch where you’re going.” 

Theodore straightens you up, hands lingering a little too long before letting you go. “Sorry,” he murmurs, “I’m sorry.” 

And though you promised yourself to let go off Theodore months ago, you can’t help but feel your heart twist at his words. Skin burning where he’d touch you mere seconds ago. 

“It’s fine,” you wave him off, “just be more careful.” 

“Yeah.” His tone is breathless, blinking at you slowly as if he couldn’t believe you were so close to him. “You look nice.” 

You better hope so, it’s not like you spend an hour getting ready to look anything but nice. And despite your better judgment, you feel butterflies setting off in your stomach once more. But that could’ve also been caused by the mixed concoction you downed five minutes ago. 

“Thank you,” you murmur. “You too, Theo.” 

“Mhmm,” he hums nodding, his expression is hesitant. “Thank you,” he says, turning his head to the side and under the clubbing lights, you can easily spot the tinging redness at the top of his ears. “Do you want to get out of here?” 

“What?” It’s not that you didn’t hear him, it’s that you didn’t want to hear him. Because you knew, damn well, that if he’d just repeated himself you would agree within a heartbeat.

He gulps, and repeat himself. “Do you want to get out of here?” 

Maybe your heart is weak, maybe it’s the alcohol, or maybe it’s just Theodore that gets you out of there with him attached to your lips. 

His hand pressing into the small of your back as you leaned against the wall, a small groan slipping from his lips when you nipped on it. 

Theodore pulls back, eyes wide and roaming your face as he takes your features in; memorising the slope of your nose, the plumpness in your lips, and the apples of your cheeks as if this was the last time he’d be able to do so. And presses his lips to yours once more. 

He calls out your name, a free hand reaching up to cup your jaw so you’d look at him. For you to give him the attention he so desperately wanted from you. “I’m sorry,” he says, “I know you probably hate me and I’m so sorry but give me a chance, please.” 

His tone is desperate, almost begging as he did so and you wonder if he knew the impact he still had on you. He lets go of your jaw, arm wrapping around your waist, bringing you impossibly closer to him.

“Give me a chance to make it up to you,” he asks of you, mouth pressing wet kisses down your neck as he repeats himself. “Please, please, pretty girl.” 

“Theo.” His kisses doesn’t stop, much less falter at your words. “Theo.” 

“Mhmm?” He hums against your neck, pulling back to give you his full an undivided attention. “Yes?” 

He’s a bit taken aback when you kiss him quickly, chasing your lips as you pulled back. “You have a lot to make up for.” 

“I know.” The curled smile of his returns, dark eyes glinting as he looks at you. “But for now let me give you all my attention.”

— from bee: i guess reader got what she wished for at the end lol, feedbacks and reblogs are greatly appreciated!! (๑>◡<๑)

p.s this pic of mingyu is so (my) bf i love him!!

#theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x you #theodore nott angst #theodore nott fluff #theodore nott scenarios #theodore nott imagines #theodore nott headcanons #theodore nott fanfiction #theodore nott fanfic #🧳: my writing #Spotify

[lizzaneia-elizalde]

Yandere! CEO! Arranged! Ex-husand x AFAB! Ex-wife! Reader

Hold your horses, we're going to wattpad territory here.

I went back to reading the cliche runaway wife or stranger with them being pregnant from their one night stand with a CEO and I must say, it's making me really nostalgic.

As a small gift for myself, I'm using the name of my CEO protagonist on the novel I wrote, and his background... Actually, the whole story for this one will be just my novel's. Self plagiarism, if you will lol. There are quite the big alterations, but that's for me to know, and for you to skim over.

So, let's unlock a hidden memory especially for previous wattpad girlies, shall we?

Pause though, this is my 3rd pregnancy fic. I hate myself.

Yandere! CEO name: Iñigo Dragonov

"Father, I seriously do not need your input in my marriage!"

"You will marry the Smith's daughter and that's final!"

"But why?! I'm content with living by myself and flourishing the company! I do not need a wife!"

"How about a husband then?"

"No wives, no husbands, no spouses!"

Allastor frowned. He knew that his son is not one for romance, but he dated a handful of people, also slept around sometimes. But for the sake of his son, who is workaholic to the point he's forgetting about his health, he needs someone who would be there for him.

"Son, if you don't marry the Smith's daughter, i'm afraid I have to get back the company."

Iñigo clenched his teeth. His jaw ticking as he looked at his father with wide, feral eyes.

"You won't do that. You already gave the company to me!"

"Yes, but I will take the company back. And you know I can pull strings like no other."

That's how Iñigo married you, the Smith's daughter.

Dragonov group of Companies. Just the name itself sent shivers down the spines of aspiring and even well off businesses. They're ruthless, and dominated almost every possible market. Textile, food industry, hotels, even schools. Name it, and they'll have it.

So, with the Smith Corp being the leading company in the Fashion industry, and the Dragonov looking to integrate themselves in Fashion and not just textile, Allastor decided to have this arrangement. It's like killing two birds with one stone.

Inigo Dragonov. The perfect man and the perfect bachelor. Rich, handsome, reliable, he's someone who's a bonafide genius when it comes to business. Almost his every investment have such huge profits, and never a lost.

So why was he so adamant about marrying when it's a good strategy in order to get into fashion?

He has always thought of marriage as something so restraining. Something that weighs such a workaholic like him down. He never even thought of marrying unless his father and mother mentions it.

So when his eyes laid on you, he sneered in his heart.

He doesn't want you at all.

He's always finding faults in you.

"Why do you look so frumpy? I thought your company focuses on fashion?"

"Stand up straight. Your slouching is unsightly."

"Will you get out of my sight? Don't you have any work to do? Don't be lazy."

His words never, ever dripped of affection, only vile words of nitpicking came out.

You were tired of it. Sick and tired.

Yet you did your best to always serve your husband in all aspects. Affection, taking care of him, even intimacy. After all, he's still the one to put food on your plate. Not just any food also, but luxurious ones.

But the empty feeling on your heart persisted. You don't want this at all.

So with a heavy heart, you decided to divorce him.

As you predicted, he didn't care. He signed it, and you left the chateau.

But as Iñigo relished in the fact that he's now a single man once more and can focus on his work, you knew something he didn't.

You touched your womb.

"I'm going to take care of you myself, baby." You whispered to the unborn child on your stomach.

Iñigo clocked out of his office and sighed, feeling the tiredness cloak his body.

He felt empty. Really empty.

At first, he felt such a deep satisfaction that he can finish the job easier without you around.

Every time he comes home, nobody will pester him to eat, to take care of himself.

Nobody nosey to ask him about his day, nobody to annoy him by kissing him on the cheek...

Something invisible gripped his heart as he groaned and took off his suit jacket.

"Tedious."

He slowly walked towards the dining room and sat down at the head of the table. He started eating his dinner, feeling the emptiness reside the giant mansion.

Was his chateau always this big?

He looked over to the seat to his left where you usually sat down.

He can see the faint image of you in his memories, talking about your day and job, that he painfully ignored.

He remembered how your lips would always twitch as it fought back a frown from his lack of response.

He would watch you go silent and finish your meal quickly, before waiting for him to finish so that you could bring the plates back to the kitchen.

He would remember your tired sighs and fervent glances at him.

He went upstairs, wanting to take a shower.

The room you shared with him was now devoid of your personal touch, just leaving with a dark and modern aesthetic that looked like it was from a display in a furniture shop. It was professional, too professional.

He looked over where your vanity was once was. Now there's just an armchair and a lamp that he never really used.

He got to the bathroom and what was once filled with your bathroom essentials. Now, it was just his shampoo, conditioner, toothbrush and paste, and other basic needs tucked away.

And as he went under the shower, tears started to leak from his eyes, regret gnawing at his heart.

He never realized how much he loved you.

He never realized that the reason why he was so critical of you was that he was trying to distance himself from you.

He never realized that your presence was a constant peace in his fast paced life, and that you were a part of his routine.

And now that you're gone...

He gripped his wrist, a bruise forming.

And that was his daily routine a year after your divorce.

And now, two years later, he was still the same.

On the outside, he looked fine and dandy, but deep inside, he's only a broken husk of a man that he never dared to repair.

He thinks he deserved this as punishment.

But then, in those years, he felt that he needed you to come back.

Yes, he's punishing himself, but he needed you still.

He misses your touch,

Your warmth,

Your care.

Your... Love?

Did you love him?

Or is it out of responsibly?

Bah, he doesn't care.

He loves you, and that was enough.

A knock came from the door and his CFO, and his best friend, Oliver, got inside.

"Here you have it. This week's report of activities of Miss Smith--"

"Mrs. Dragonov."

Oliver sighed.

"yes, Mrs. Dragonov, this is the week's report of Mrs. Dragonov."

Iñigo nodded in satisfaction and waved Oliver goodbye.

He opened the enveloped and his eyes widened. You were back from New Zealand. This was great news! He could talk to you. Maybe coax you into coming back.

Iñigo grabbed his key and opened a door at the back of his office and smiled at the inside. Inside was a perfect replica of your old office when you were still married to him. The only difference is that wall to wall was plastered of your face, taken by his private investigators. On the vanity, which was once in his room, have a picture of you, and your twins with him.

He smirked lazily, sitting down on the chair as he kissed your face on the picture frame.

His stormy dark eyes were bent a bit, his gaze filled with so much longing and regret.

"I'll take back what's mine." He whispered.

"and I'll do everything and use everything at my disposal to get you back." Iñigo declared, looking at his children.

"And I mean everything."

"We need to do this."

"Tsk. Why would I? I'm perfectly capable of myself."

"We both can't deny the fact that they need me. You need me."

".... Okay."

" But in one condition."

"What is it?"

"You need to marry me."

You blinked, not getting this absurd situation at all. Marriage again? But why?

Seeing your confused face, Iñigo grabbed your hand gently and squeezed them.

"Sweetheart, you don't want our children to grow up ridiculed, right? What would the people say if they saw our children with no father?" Iñigo started to whisper, coaxing you into seeing his perspective. "I am willing to provide the support you need."

You shook your head.

"But I can provide that myself. I am rich also, so that support means nothing."

Iñigo gritted his teeth and held you tightly once more.

"What will an incomplete family do to our children? Won't they question my absence? Besides, a father is a crucial role one must be filled no matter what. And I'm fully intending to be present at all." He coaxed you, whispering words of promises he wants to fulfil. "There are studies out there that an incomplete family slows down children's development."

He continued to try and let you see his perspective.

"With my influence, nobody can touch you and the children. I promise, I won't be an asshole again and ridicule you. I am so sorry for saying those things." Iñigo whispered as tears filled his eyes. "I regretted all of those. Every single day since you left, I felt like a husk, I know something was wrong, and that I was that something. I hurt someone so precious to me."

Why would he need to dirty his hands when his words and acting skills were enough to persuade you?

Iñigo knelt down, hugging your waist, begging, groveling for you to come back.

And when he saw your resolve crack in front of him, he hid his smirk as he continued to sob in front of you.

His words were working.

Besides, he knows the children were your soft spot.

He was thankful for the existence of your children. If not, he'll probably resort to... Extreme ways just to get you back.

Maybe like, making your company bankrupt with him the only lifeline left.

But now, he held your waist tightly, listening to your words as you gave up trying to fight his logic.

You were his.

And you will continue to be his,

Until death do you part.

#yandere boyfriend #yandere imagines #yandere male #yandere writing #male yandere x reader #tw yandere #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere fic #yandere drabbles #lizzaneiaelizalde

[yoon-kooks]

darkroom | jjk

Pairing: Vampire!Jungkook x Reader

Genre: smut, fluff, vampire!au, college!au

Summary: When you somehow end up in an advanced photography class that you definitely shouldn’t be in, you seek the help of shy nerdy boy Jeon Jungkook to preserve your 4.15 GPA. It isn’t until after you stumble upon him in the darkroom that you realize your cute little nerd is actually a super hot vampire with an icy cold stare and beautiful burgundy eyes.

Word Count: 10.2k

Warnings: minimal blood (just him sucking away), sex on school property, oral (f receiving), dry humping, orgasm denial, jk has dom vibes, he's an arrogant asshole at times, mention of hemophobia, switches to jk's pov 3 times

A/N: i wrote a vampire fic for jk's bday 4 years ago, and here we are again with another vampire fic;;;; enjoy!!!

“What do you mean I can’t drop a class I never signed up for?” Your head is about to explode. You’ve been fidgeting around in the most uncomfortable chair across from your counselor for what feels like ten hours, trying to get to the bottom of why you were placed into the Advanced Photography course when you have nothing to do with photography. “There has to be a way, right?”

“Sorry, this is already an under-enrolled course, which means the whole thing will have to be canceled if you or any other student drops it.” Great, he’s forcing you to stay for the sake of your professor and classmates whom you have yet to meet. That totally won't fuck up your 4.15 GPA at all.

“Okay, but I haven’t taken the prereqs for this course, and I’m not even majoring in photography.”

“Remind me what your major is again, Miss L/N.”

“Biochemistry?” You can’t even hide your disgust at this point. What an utterly useless counselor and waste of time. “Listen, I don’t mean to be rude,” (you definitely mean to be rude), “but you’re basically setting me up for failure over a dumb mistake that I didn’t make. If I don’t get accepted into med school because of this, that’s on you, sir.”

You storm out of the counseling office and make it all the way to an empty hall in the art building before breaking down into tears. It’s not fair. You’ve worked so hard to maintain your grades in the toughest of STEM courses, but this one photography class is about to fuck you straight in the ass.

You’ve never been an artsy person, which is why you’ve always stayed far, far away from anything remotely creative. The one “artsy” course you’d been forced to take as a graduation requirement was a coding design class, and it was a pain in the ass even though you came out of it with an A. But the point is, you’re not cut out for a photography class, especially not an advanced one. And it’s shitty to know that you’re stuck in one for a whole semester.

After patting your tears away, you regroup and walk into the photography room. Your counselor was right about one thing: this course is severely under-enrolled. There are more empty seats than taken ones. You count seven other students when there are supposed to be twenty. They all seem to be chummy with one another (perhaps from all those prereqs they took together), but no one even bats an eye your way, including the professor. It would’ve been great if you were allowed to drop this class and have it canceled altogether. Every single one of these assholes would have suffered the consequences instead of you.

A minute before the first class starts, a boy scurries to the corner of the room with big round glasses and the darkest eyebags you’ve ever seen. He has the look of someone who’d spent his entire high school career staying up until 2AM to study for the SATs and never quite recovered, someone who forgoes hanging out with friends to make an essay ten pages longer than it needs to be, someone who takes on multiple internships and jobs at once, someone who cries when people undermine his hard work, someone who actually gives a shit about school and his future. 

You’d know. You have that same look, that same aura. No one looks at him, either.

Your internal 4.3 GPA detector is going off.

“Welcome to the fall semester of our Advanced Photography course,” your professor begins, looking around at all the empty seats. “Since we have a small class this semester, it’ll give everyone more space to learn and expand on their photography skills. Let’s start by having everyone introduce themselves one by one, and just give me a brief idea of your experience with photography.”

You tune out as the first person is introducing herself because you really couldn’t care less about any of the assholes who ignored you and clearly already think they're above you. They all say the same thing anyway, reminiscing about their past projects from other photography classes they’ve taken. Yeah, you’re still bitter about the prereqs.

When it’s your turn to introduce yourself, you say the first thing that comes to mind. “I take photos for a popular Instagram model slash influencer.” 

That catches their attention. It’s not a lie, either. Your 3-year-old black cat has 40,000 followers and over a dozen sponsorships with brands like Greenies, Chewy, and even your local coffee shop. Her passive income is what’s putting you through school right now. And you can’t let all her hard-earned money go to waste by failing this photography class.

“What kind of camera and equipment have you used for your Instagram photos?” your professor asks. It’s a valid question, but you hate her for asking it anyway.

“My phone,” you say in the tiniest voice. That earns you a few chuckles and plenty of eyerolls, and it kind of hurts your feelings. You want to disappear. If anyone asks who your model is, you’re going to run out of the room and drop out of school altogether. Your Instagram-famous kitty will support you financially for a while until you can secure a STEM job that can overlook your dropout status.

The only person not ridiculing you is the boy you thoroughly judged and profiled for having dark circles. He introduces himself as Jeon Jungkook, someone with a few internships and a professional photoshoot under his belt. Your 4.3 GPA detector tells you he’s being modest about his experience and achievements, though. His voice is soft, and he’s terrible at making eye contact, but something about him is comforting. Maybe it’s that his presence makes you feel as though you aren’t the only outcast in the room.

As your professor is busy lending out very expensive-looking cameras and a shit ton of equipment to each student, you investigate the camera you were given. Your lack of camera knowledge is so bad that you don’t even know how to turn it on, or if cameras like this even have power buttons. In the end, you just look like a boomer who can’t figure out how to turn off their iPhone. You’re overwhelmed by unfamiliarity while everyone else treats it like it’s second nature.

You’ve always been the one to reach out and help others in your STEM classes. But in photography, you’re the one in need of help, and you don’t know how to ask for it from people who probably don’t give a shit about you.

Oh no. You feel the tears coming back.

“So… who’s the Instagram model you take photos for?” Your back arches up like a cornered cat until your mind processes who that soft voice belongs to. You turn your head to Jungkook standing there with the round glasses and dark circles and a lot more piercings than you’d expect from someone who most likely carries a 4.3 GPA. Damn, you really need to stop profiling people like that.

“Her name is Stella.” You pull out your phone, open the app, and hand it off to your curious classmate. Showing him your collection of cat photos is only slightly less embarrassing than explaining it with words.

“She’s cute…” he says as he scrolls through the chaotic adventures of Stella the cat. His thumb pauses over a post of her loafing and blepping. The photo quality and composition might not be up to the standards of this advanced class, but at least you can say you have an adorable kitty companion on your side. “You really don’t have any other experience with camerawork?”

You shake your head. “I literally know nothing about photography, and I’m not even supposed to be in this class, but my counselor won’t let me drop it because he’s a dipshit.”

“What was the reason he gave?”

“He said if one student drops the course, the whole thing would have to be canceled due to under-enrollment as if that would guilt-trip me into staying. Not that he even gave me a choice.”

Jungkook’s big eyes spot the tear about to fall down your cheek. You blink it away as fast as you can. The last thing you want is to look pitiful in front of another classmate. School is where you’re supposed to thrive, not be defeated.

“Anyway, thank you for letting me rant.” You give the boy a half-smile as you pack the camera back into its bag. You’ll have to watch some TikTok tutorials later. Especially since your very helpful professor has just handed out your first assignment to take a photo of “something cool” and make a print in “The Darkroom,” whatever the heck that is. You’re pretty sure it has to do with the occult club, and everyone else in the room is in on the joke except for you. Because you’re the only student who didn’t have the luxury of learning about The Darkroom in the beginner-friendly photography courses. Those damn prereqs.

But maybe, with Jungkook here, you don’t have to go through this shitty class alone.

Just as you’re about to leave the photography room with all your equipment, you turn to Jungkook who also has his mouth open with something to say.

Jungkook’s POV

You were definitely about to cry. And as much as Jungkook would rather not get involved with a cuter-than-average human, you’re exactly what he’s weak to. Especially when you have that tiny sparkle in your eyes—not the sparkle from the tears but from the passion you have for school. Your counselor really screwed you over for no reason, and Jungkook just wishes you didn’t have to suffer the consequences. You don’t deserve that.

He’ll help you so you won’t have to cry anymore. All he has to do is scare that dipshit counselor a little—perhaps drain him of his blood until he agrees to wipe the class from your schedule… or he could stand in solidarity with you and threaten to drop the course as well. He’ll go with whatever seems more convincing.

“Um, Jungkook?” Shit. Your voice is so sweet like honey. He’d really like to taste you right about now. But he can’t. That would be inappropriate.

Jungkook nods slowly, still very much entranced by your beauty and innocence. He can’t even look you in the eye. If he did, you’d surely notice how red his irises are turning with lust.

“If it’s not too much trouble for you, do you think you could help me pass this class?” You look so weak and vulnerable like you’re being a bother to him for asking for help. You’re probably not used to asking others for help because you seem like the kind of person who tends to rely on herself. “A couple of study dates might be fun.”

He bites his tongue as his eyes travel down to the floor between you and him. How can he respond to that—to someone as cute as you? He doesn't hate the idea of study dates, but he can’t let himself do that. He’d get too carried away and end up hurting you. That’s what happens with most vampire-human relationships he’s heard of. Your blood probably tastes like sugar. You’d become his new addiction. As soon as he gets a taste, he won’t be able to resist you. That’s the power you hold over him.

“Or, I mean, they don’t have to be dates… I didn’t mean to assume you were single or interested in someone like me or—” You pause to study Jungkook’s face. He must be doing a horrible job of concealing his internal struggles. You probably think he’s a loser by now. “Nevermind. Forget I said anything. I’ll figure things out on my own.”

Your voice is shaky as you walk away. He needs to do something, anything to cheer you up. The thought of seeing you sad hurts more than a silver dagger to the heart.

“Y/N,” Jungkook finally speaks. “Which counselor rejected your request to drop the class? I just wanna talk.”

As you lay on your bed and stare at the empty wall, you don’t really know how to feel after leaving that cursed class. Jungkook said he’d state his intentions to drop the course to put more pressure on your counselor, which was a kind gesture. But the boy also rejected your study dates. And that might be what hurts most. It’s a reminder of why you shouldn’t ask others for help. You’re the only person you can truly rely on.

After spending the rest of the afternoon feeling sorry for yourself, you finally look into some photography tutorials and set up a mini photoshoot for your cat. She cooperates at first but leaves you with a big scratch on your cheek for taking too long and getting too close to her with the lens. Great, even your own cat hates you.

By the time you’ve captured enough pics, it’s already dark out and way later than you thought. That works out, though, because it’s unlikely that anyone else will be in The Darkroom at this hour. The last thing you want is for any of your classmates to see you struggling in there.

The campus is eerily empty and quiet at night, and it’s at times like this when you’re thankful your apartment is only a five-minute walk away. The art building is empty too, but it’s going to take more than all those premature Halloween decorations to scare you off. After all, this totally beats the awkwardness of running into your classmates.

You hum as you open the door to The Darkroom. As one would expect, The Darkroom is quite dark. The red lighting screams occult club, but maybe that’s just you and your ignorance of both photography and the supernatural. Everything is fine until you hear a few things being knocked over. You’re not alone after all.

“Sorry, I didn’t know someone was in here. I’ll come back later,” you say without seeing which classmate it is. You suppose you can kill time by doing your daily Wordle on the bench in the halls. In honor of the premature Halloween decor surrounding you, your starter word will be “blood.” But before you can make a u-turn, you hear a voice that’s both familiar and different at the same time.

“I’m done in here. You can use it.” The voice exudes confidence and mystery in a way that’s luring you in. You step inside and see two glowing eyes staring back at you. The lighting makes them look almost burgundy.

“Wait, I didn’t just crash an occult club meeting, did I?” You probably did. That’s the only logical explanation (besides the lighting) for this person’s glowing red eyes. He could be cosplaying as a vampire for all you know. Apparently everyone is celebrating Halloween early this year.

“What?” he asks with a hint of amusement in his tone.

You walk further and further into The Darkroom until you can finally see who you’re talking to.

“Oh, it’s just you.” You breathe a sigh of relief. It’s just Jungkook. If it had been a cosplayer from the occult club or anyone else from your class, you would’ve opted for Wordle in a heartbeat. “For a second, I thought the occult club was doing their thing in here.”

“Their thing?” The boy’s brow piercing lifts. It takes a second for you to notice he isn’t wearing those cute round glasses, and you almost confuse his lip ring for a fang. His hand is also covered in tattoos that you’re 99% sure weren’t there before. He looks so different in this lighting.

“You know, like summoning demons, talking to ghosts. Stuff like that,” you hum, walking around The Darkroom like you understand what any of that equipment is used for.

“Or hunting vampires?” he plays along.

“Exactly,” you laugh. God, he’s so cute and definitely your type. It’s a shame your study date idea got shot down.

As soon as you make your way back around, you catch Jungkook staring at you, almost shamelessly. It’s a lot different from how he avoided eye contact with everyone during class.

“What happened here?” He points to his cheek, mirroring the spot where Stella the cat had her big meltdown. You're surprised he can see the cut in such shitty lighting without his glasses.

“My cat lashed out at me during our mini photoshoot. Are all models such divas?” As ridiculous as it sounds, that’s the direction your life is going in right now. If you can’t get into med school because of this whole debacle, you’ll be stuck as your feisty cat’s photographer for the rest of your life.

Jungkook narrows the gap between you and him until you can see the tiniest features on his face, like the cute little dot hiding in the shadow of his lower lip. The back of your thighs hit the counter as he cups your chin in his tattooed hand. His icy touch gives you goosebumps. The Darkroom suddenly feels too small to hold the both of you, like you’ll suffocate if you stay in there. You should probably leave, but something about the boy is enticing you to stay.

“It’s dangerous, you know. Letting your cat scratch you like that,” he whispers against your cheek. Despite how cold he may be, you feel your whole face heating up with him so close to you. The fact that he’s worried about a tiny cat scratch is so fucking endearing. You didn’t know such a boy existed.

“Yeah, it’s kind of unsanitary when their litter box claws cut into our skin like that, but I’m used to it,” you shrug.

“But you’re bleeding.” Jungkook’s burgundy eyes follow your thumb as you swipe it over the scratch. The wound does still feel a bit fresh.

“A little bit of blood won’t hurt anybody. Unless they have hemophobia.” It suddenly occurs to you that the boy might not fare well at the sight of blood. “Ah shit, do you have hemophobia?” you ask with the most concerned look on your face.

The boy shakes his head. “A vampire wouldn’t last long if they were scared of blood.”

He grabs ahold of your wrist and brings your hand up to his parted lips. Your thumb grazes the metal ring around his lip and then the sharp tips of his canines. His tongue caresses your thumb until there’s no more blood for him to taste.

Your head is spinning as he lets go of your wrist. You don’t need a biochemistry degree or an occult club membership to know that the boy pinning you against the counter isn’t human. And the cutie you met earlier with the round glasses is someone much darker and more mysterious than you could’ve ever imagined.

“Are you really a vampire?” you ask, looking right into those bloodstained eyes of his. You really hope so. A vampire would be a lot more socially acceptable than, say, a demon.

“Why don’t you test your theory?” Jungkook pulls the camera out of your bag and hands it to you. “Vampires supposedly don’t show up in photos, right?”

He’s not wrong, but you aren’t trying to waste any more time with that cursed film camera. Instead, you pull out your phone and—

“Hey, no cheating.” He snatches the phone from your grip and hands you back the cursed cam. You swipe your paw at him in hopes of reclaiming your phone, but he pulls it just out of your reach. Why is he being a dick all of a sudden? You liked him better when he was all shy and cute with the round glasses. But you suppose that was just a facade to distract people from what he actually is. “I’ll help you develop your film and make your print. Unless you were planning on going to TikTok for help.”

He’s not wrong, again. You did watch at least twenty photography TikToks with your cat before coming here, and even then, you’re not super confident about pulling the whole thing off without any mistakes.

“Okay fine,” you sigh, snapping a shot without even looking through the viewfinder. For a second, the alleged vampire looks like a deer in headlights.

“You do realize the lighting is practically nonexistent in here, right?” Unimpressed, Jungkook pulls you into the photography room across the hall and turns on the light. You squint the same way your cat does when you wake her up in the middle of the night to catch the creepy crawlies in your room. “And let me make sure your camera settings aren’t all fucked up.”

Once your eyes are finally adjusted, you get a better look at the boy fixing your camera. The red in his eyes isn’t as intense now, but they’re still really pretty. His hair is all ruffled in a super sexy way as opposed to the neatly combed style he had earlier in class. And all those hand tattoos make you wonder if there’s a whole sleeve of ink hidden beneath his shirt.

If he was cute as a button before, he’s hot as hell now.

“If you’re done drooling over me, you can take the picture now.” He takes his seat in the corner of the room and rests his legs on top of the desk like a gigachad. His icy stare into the camera is the icing on the cake. Turns out he’s good at modeling too.

“I wasn’t drooling over you,” you hiss. If he teases you one more time, you’re gonna lose it.

“Sorry, I meant eye-fucking me,” he hums as if that’s less of an insult. Whatever. You have to remind yourself that this arrogant boy is the key to passing this class. You can’t get into a scrap with him now or else your 4.15 GPA is as good as gone.

When the impromptu shoot is over, you have a decent amount of film ready to be developed. Hopefully Jungkook shows up in the prints whether or not he’s a vampire because you put a lot of thought into each composition. You’d also secretly want to keep the best one for your eyes only because that boy is truly a work of art. He may or may not be your new guilty pleasure.

Back in The Darkroom, Jungkook goes through the process with you step by step. He clarifies a lot of small details that your TikToks missed, like when you ask about the parts that need to be done in total darkness vs the red safelight. And he’s actually good at explaining it in a way that appeals to your scientist brain with all the chemicals and variables involved. He’d make a fantastic professor whom you wouldn’t mind bothering during office hours.

“We’ll let the film dry overnight and do the prints tomorrow,” the boy says as he gathers up his stuff and throws his jacket back on. Tomorrow? It’s a little concerning that you didn’t know this would be a two-day process.

“So I won’t know if you’re a vampire until tomorrow?” You’d like to know asap so you can rule out demon as a possibility because demons are kind of freaky. Although you’re sure Jungkook would find a way to make demons as seductive as vampires.

“Or I can answer your question right now.” He strides over to you and presses his lips into the nape of your neck. The way he sucks on your skin is delicate enough not to leave a mark but strong enough to send a naughty little signal down to the spot between your legs. “I’m told I’m not very gentle, though.”

Rough. He’s rough. And he could be rough with you. You wish you weren’t so turned on by that thought. This handsome vampire boy is really stirring the pot in that sacred section of your brain where all your sexual fantasies are stored away.

“I can wait until tomorrow,” you say before you can change your mind. No one said it would turn into sex (except for your dirty little mind), but now you’re curious to know what vampire sex might entail. Maybe it’s better than anything you’ve experienced.

“It’s better I leave before you tempt me with your other cat scratches, anyway. Specifically the ones on your thighs,” he says, ushering you out of The Darkroom and toward the exit of the art building. You’d like to know how he knows you have cat scratches on your thighs. Either vampire noses are extremely sensitive to blood, he has x-ray vision, or he’s aware of The Feline Urge to jump into your lap and knead your thighs with those tiny little claws. 

It’s much chillier outside now than it had been when you first arrived on campus. You didn’t think to bring a jacket, so you hug your camera bag in hopes that it’ll keep you warm on your walk home.

“Humans are so weak to the cold. It’s pathetic,” the boy says as if he doesn’t have any weaknesses of his own. Garlic? Silver? You make a note to yourself to compile a list of everything vampires might be weak to as soon as you get home. But instead of walking off like you’d expected him to do, he waits around and asks if you live nearby.

Jungkook’s POV

He should’ve just kept his mouth shut and let you walk home by yourself in the dark on this chilly autumn night. That’s what any other rational vampire would have done. After all, vampires know better than to get involved with humans. It’s statistically proven that humans are safer without vampires around. By that logic, you would’ve been better off walking home alone. 

But he would never live it down if something bad happened to you on your way home. It doesn’t matter that it’s just a five-minute walk. Besides, you looked so fragile and needy the way you clung to your camera bag for warmth.

So after shedding his jacket off and throwing it over your shivering shoulders, Jungkook finds himself walking you home. The five-minute walk isn’t unpleasant, either. He learns that you’re a biochemistry major hoping to get into a good med school, though he doesn’t think it should be an issue for someone as bright as you. You also talk a lot about your cat Stella and all her little antics and how you firmly believe that black cats are good luck instead of bad. He’s never considered himself much of a cat person, but that tiny sparkle in your eye is making him reconsider everything. Maybe he’ll visit the animal shelter tomorrow (just to browse!) or spend the rest of the night watching cat TikToks.

The most intriguing part is that, even though you suspect he’s not human, you haven’t treated him any differently. Typically, when humans learn of his vampire roots, they either freak out or ask too many questions pertaining to Twilight. You, on the other hand, make him feel like less of an alien and more like a boy you have a crush on. And that’s something he hasn’t felt for as long as he can remember.

As the two of you reach the door to your apartment, you hand the jacket back to him and pause before heading in.

“Thank you for tonight,” you say in the most angelic voice. “For helping me with the assignment and walking me home and not letting me freeze.”

“No problem.” That’s not entirely true. There’s definitely one problem he can think of. Now that he knows where you live, there’s little stopping him from knocking on your door like a pathetic lost puppy whenever he’s craving your taste. He’s already struggling to control himself around you as it is. He would have bitten straight into your neck and sapped you of your sweet syrupy blood if you hadn't said you were fine with waiting to see what the prints show. Curse you and your patience.

A meow and some scratches from inside prompt you to open the door. Your eager little kitty completely ignores you and circles Jungkook like a shark. Her tail is extra bushy as she rubs her face against his leg.

“Does that mean she likes me?” he asks. He knows about cat language as much as you know about photography—not much at all.

“She likes you more than she likes me,” you say, wiping away a fake tear as you step through the doorway. “C’mon Stella, we have to let Uncle Jungkook go home now.”

Still ignoring you, Stella stretches her arms up Jungkook’s leg. He quickly picks up on the cue to lift her and cradle her like a baby. The warmth of the cat is soothing against his cold vampire body.

“She wants to come home with me.” His lips curve upward ever so slightly as the sleepy kitty purrs against his chest. If a seven-pound cat can emit this much warmth in his arms, he has much to look forward to when you and him—No, no. He shouldn’t be thinking with his cock at a wholesome time like this.

“Fine, you can be her new photographer. See if I care,” you say with a faux hmph. Two seconds later, you’re desperately trying to pry the stubborn Stella out of Jungkook’s arms. And although you eventually get the cat back, she flails around in your arms for the remainder of the farewells.

“It was nice meeting you, Stella,” Jungkook says, waving goodbye as he reverses out of your doorway and heads toward his apartment. “Oh, and Y/N, keep the vampire thing between you and me.”

“Sure, I won’t tell anyone,” you call out to him. He knew he could count on you to be a good girl. “But only if you agree to go on some study dates with me.”

Fuck. He should have known you’d put conditions on it. He already rejected your study dates once, but things have changed since then. He’d been scared of losing control and hurting you if he got too close to you, but you showed him that sparkle in your eye and now he’s committed to helping you succeed in any way possible. Even if that means going on a few study dates with you. He just has to learn how to keep his blood and sex cravings in check.

“Fine,” he says.

@jjk817263: Hey, meet me outside the art building in 20 minutes so we can finish your prints.

@fairycatstella: sorry stella isnt taking on any more sponsorship requests at this time thank you

@jjk817263: No, no. I’m not a company contacting you about a sponsorship. It’s Jeon Jungkook. From your Advanced Photography class? The one with the glasses. I helped you develop your film in the darkroom.

You burst out laughing at your phone screen. Even after the night you spent with him in The Darkroom, he really thinks you’ve forgotten about him already. He’s as awkward online as he is during class with the round glasses. Except you don’t think he’s just pretending to be awkward right now. It’s kind of cute to see him squirm.

@fairycatstella: youre seriously asking me out on our first study date by sliding into my cat’s DMs??

@jjk817263: You didn’t give me your number.

@fairycatstella: you didnt ask for it! smh

@jjk817263: Whatever. Stop calling it a study date or I’ll suck you dry🧛

@fairycatstella: you dont scare me btw

@fairycatstella: unless youre actually a demon. demons are 🙅‍♀️🙅‍♀️🙅‍♀️

@jjk817263: What’s wrong with demons? What’d they ever do to you?

@fairycatstella: have you ever seen demon slayer

@jjk817263: Yeah, I’ve seen some demon slayers in my days.

@fairycatstella: 👁👄👁

@fairycatstella: nvm we can watch it together on another date. it’s good but too scary to watch alone

@jjk817263: I swear if you call it a date one more time, I’ll call up all my demon buddies and you can host a watch party with them.

@fairycatstella: DATE💋

You smile to yourself like an idiot. As much as you’d like to tease him about his cute little “threats,” you have a study date to get ready for.

When you arrive on campus, you immediately spot the boy with round glasses leaning against the concrete structure just outside the art building. It’s still early in the day, which probably explains why his dark circles are so prominent. That doesn’t make him any less cute, though.

“Hey,” you say, tapping on his shoulder. He looks up from his phone and nods, barely acknowledging your existence. Wow, you can’t believe you made an effort to look cute in your corduroy dress only for him to give you the cold shoulder. Literally. You suppose that’s where the expression comes from. “Ready for our study date?”

Jungkook narrows his eyes at the taboo phrase.

“Ready to meet my demon friends? I have a lot of them, you know. And they’re always hungry. That watch party isn’t going to be so fun when you see your grocery bill,” he throws back at you. He’s serious about it, too. 

“Oh no, that’s absolutely terrifying,” you snicker. You honestly don’t care what kind of wholesome threats Jungkook comes up with next. Sounds like he wouldn’t harm a fly, like he’d catch it and release it outside instead of swatting it against the wall. So yeah. You’re going to keep calling it a study date until he completely loses it, bites you, and introduces you to the forbidden concept of angry vampire sex.

He shuts his eyes, rubs his temples, and mutters something along the lines of, “for fucks sake,” as he drags you into The Darkroom.

As soon as the two of you step inside, Jungkook removes the round glasses. His dark circles slowly start to disappear as the red deepens in his eyes. His tattoos creep onto his skin like they’re drawing themselves in. What a beautifully mysterious creature he is.

You’re suddenly reminded of something worth mentioning. “I’ve been meaning to ask why you downplay your appearance so much with other people.” Or whenever he’s not alone with you. You get that the darkness plays a role in altering a few of his physical features, but no one’s forcing him to wear those glasses.

“You mean why I look like the nerdy kid sitting on a 4.3 GPA?” It’s as if he can read your mind. Maybe that’s one of his vampire powers.

You nod, although you don’t mean it as an insult the way it came off when he said it.

“So people don’t ask me out on study dates.” He cocks his head with a smirk. Oh boy, he really knows how hot he is and how many people would ask him out if he looked like this all the time. He’s like the opposite of a catfish, except his “nerdy kid sitting on a 4.3 GPA” look was still cute enough to bait you into asking him out.

“What do you have against dates?” 

He shrugs. As much as he likes to complain about study dates, he’s pretty quiet now. 

Ah, shit. Maybe he’s aromantic and you overstepped. Or maybe he’s just not interested in you. Fuck.

To fill the silence, you start on the next steps in making your prints, whatever those might be. You must look like a lost lamb because you’re pacing back and forth holding things and not knowing what to do with them. Thankfully, the boy steps in to guide you the rest of the way. Crisis avoided.

As your first print sits in the developer solution, you watch the shape of the boy’s body fade onto the page—his hands clasped behind his head, his legs propped up on the desk, and his gorgeous eyes that still pierce through you in black and white. You should’ve guessed he’d show up in the print, considering you did see him in the tiny negatives that developed last night. Still, it’s not like you knew at which point vampires were supposed to magically disappear in the photography process.

Does that mean he’s not a vampire after all?

“Still drooling over me, huh?” Jungkook says as he monitors his own print soaking in the solution. His photo looks like a small pond, but it’s hard to make out anything beyond that until it develops more. “Don’t forget to move the print to the next solution.”

You do as you’re told and move your print into the stop bath. Perhaps you’re a little biased, but your photo of the boy looks like it’s coming out pretty well, composition and all. Or maybe he’s just handsome enough to make any lackluster photo into something extraordinary. It’s probably a mix of both.

After letting your print sit in the stop bath and fixer solutions, you admire the finished product of your first attempt at traditional photography. Okay, yes, Jeon Jungkook is really, really hot, and he photographs well. You’ve already established that fifty times by now. But you’re also proud that you made some creative decisions and didn’t fuck it up the way you’d been half expecting. Maybe this advanced photography class won’t be the bane of your existence after all. And at the very least, you’ll come out of this class with some eye candy decor to liven up your minimalist bedroom.

“The whole thing about vampires and photos is just a myth, you know.” Jungkook walks over to your station and points at himself on your print. “I can confirm that this guy you’re drooling over is really a vampire.”

You nod, relieved that he’s not an evil demon prince or anything scary like that. At this point, it would’ve been a bit of a letdown if it turned out he wasn’t a vampire. It also puts your mind at ease to know there’s some sort of explanation for his fetish with your cat scratches, even if it’s not a scientific one.

The thought of vampire sex doesn’t even cross your mind. Until it does. For some reason, you imagine that cute boy with the round glasses losing himself in a desperate lust and longing for your body after getting the tiniest taste of your blood. You hope he’s as rough as they say he is.

To distract yourself from those wildly inappropriate thoughts, you look through your strips of film for more photos to print. You pick the one you took of your cat just before she pounced at you and another of the vampire that focuses on the details of his hand tattoos.

While you process those prints one by one, you examine Jungkook’s completed pond print. It gives off quiet, cozy vibes with a family of ducks out for a swim and a couple sitting in the grass with their sketchbooks out. How do you know they’re a couple? You don’t, but that’s the assumption from the onlooker's point of view. And it’s a tender moment that you wouldn’t expect from a guy who acts like dates are taboo.

“This might be a dumb question, but can vampires feel things in a romantic sense?” You really hope the question doesn’t come off as insensitive in any way. But you’re curious to know more. After all, he’s still very much a mystery to you.

Jungkook nods. “Unfortunately, yeah. We can feel whatever humans feel. Less of some things, like the cold. And more of other things.”

Heartbreak. You wonder if heartbreak is to blame for his dark response to your question and his distaste for dates.

“You asked what I have against dates,” he continues as you move your cat print from one solution to the next. “I don’t have anything against them. I just avoid them to avoid feeling certain feelings.”

“You don’t want to feel romantic feelings?” You finish the cat print and start on the one with Jungkook’s hand tattoos. 

“It’s complicated for vampires.” He frowns at your cat print. It’s a cute pic of Stella’s dilated pupils, but the blurriness isn’t going to work for your assignment. You suppose you’ll just hang it up next to your eye candy decor. “And it’s especially complicated when said vampires let themselves fall for humans. You look like the kind of person who’s seen all the Twilight movies ten times, but you don’t need to be a diehard fan to realize the consequences of that sort of relationship.”

Perhaps he’s afraid of endangering the human he falls in love with. You don’t exactly know how much self-control vampires have over their lust for blood, but regardless, it’s in their nature to prey on humans. By avoiding close interactions with humans (ie. your bothersome study dates), nobody catches feelings, and nobody gets hurt. If you had to guess, that’s the reason why Jungkook tries to be so distant and cold with you. Because if he outright hated you, he wouldn’t waste his time guiding you through the basics of photography.

“First of all, how dare you profile me and assume I’ve watched the Twilight movies ten times.” You’ve actually seen them over twenty times each, but who’s counting? “Second of all, is the Volturi coming for us? Don’t answer that. And lastly, does a relationship really have to be off the table for you?”

Jungkook shakes his head. “It’s situational.”

That’s true. You can’t always control how you feel or who you fall in love with, no matter how hard you try not to. But that’s all you really needed to hear from him—assurance that he’d give love a chance if that’s where his heart’s pointing him.

“Anyway,” he says, clearly ready to change the topic. You barely hear him because you’re busy humming away as you pull your last print from the fixer solution. “You look awfully happy making all those prints.”

“I think I finally got the hang of it.” You glance at the hand tattoo print and decide to submit that one for the class assignment. You captured the details of his tattoos pretty well, and the exposure is just right. It also helps that Jungkook’s face is out of frame so that your classmates can’t start any rumors. Mission accomplished.

“Weren’t you crying just yesterday about not being able to drop this class?” he teases you. You knew it. He’d seen the tears you tried to blink away, he’d heard your cry for help when you ranted to him about your dipshit counselor, and he did what he could to help you find your footing again after you’d hit rock bottom.

“That was before you agreed to my study dates,” you remind him. “Before you helped me realize I’m not actually terrible at photography.”

“So you’re saying I threatened your counselor into letting you drop the class for nothing?”

“You got him to change his mind?” Your eyes widen. Who would’ve thought that worthless counselor would have a change of heart. “What’d you threaten him with? A tea party with the boys?”

“The boys?”

“Your hungry demon buddies, obviously. I’m sure they’d love some biscuits and scones.”

“They prefer meat, actually. The expensive kind,” he plays along to your banter. “Are you taking notes for your grocery run before the big watch party?”

As much as you’d love to conquer your fear of demons, you don’t want a big watch party. You want it to be just you and him—a party of two that involves minimal watching and lots of touching.

“Well, regardless of your method, thank you for dealing with that headache of a counselor for my sake,” you say. He didn’t have to do that for you nor did he have to teach you everything you know about photography. But he did, and that means the world to you. He might act all cold and arrogant sometimes, but you know he’s still as caring as the bespectacled cutie you first met in class. 

“So what’s the verdict? Are you gonna drop the class or stick around?”

“I would have dropped it,” you start off. If not for a certain vampire, you’d be running down to the counseling office as fast as you can to banish that class from your schedule. But since Jungkook’s willing to keep up these study dates for the rest of the semester, you’d like to think you can pass the class without jeopardizing your chances of getting into a good med school. You’re sure your cat’s influencer status will also benefit from all the photo tips and tricks you’ll learn along the way. “But right now, you’re giving me every reason to stay.”

“Good.” He eyes you up and down, more so out of admiration than lust. Looks like your efforts to look cute are paying off after all. “You’re the only one I can tolerate in that class.”

“Aww, you’d be lonely without me?” you tease with a big fat smile on your face.

“I didn’t say that.” Deny, deny, deny. You don’t buy it anyway. “It’d be a lot more boring, though. That’s for sure.”

Jungkook steps closer until you can feel the chill of his body robbing you of your warmth. He pulls the prints out of your hands and tosses them aside onto the counter behind you. With your hands now free to roam, you slide them up to his neck and comb them through the stubborn tuft of hair sticking up. His eyes are the reddest you’ve seen them. That’s not all, though. Under the red lights, everything feels more intense—the intimacy, the temptation, and the kind of danger you aren’t afraid to explore.

He slips the strap of your dress off your shoulder and strokes his thumb against a sensitive spot along the nape of your neck. The chills you get from his cold touch fuel the heat down below, right between your legs. You’re curious to know how good it’d feel to have his icy fingers all over your hot little pussy. Amazing, probably.

You feel something sharp and jagged graze your skin like a cat claw when Stella paws you politely for attention. It doesn’t hurt, but it’s also not cutting into your skin at all. The boy pulls back for a second to hold your gaze.

“It’ll hurt a lot more than a cat scratch, you know.”

“More than a cat bite, too?”

“Yes.”

“More than a lip piercing?”

“Yes.”

“More than a tat—”

“Y/N,” he puts an end to your rambling. You only shut up because you like the way it sounds when he says your name. “It’s painful, and I’m not just saying that to scare you. I won’t do it if—”

“I’ll be okay,” you assure him. You may or may not have cried once when your cat bit your toe in her teething days, but he doesn’t need to know that. The last thing you want to do is chase away the boy who’d avoided close human interactions up until this point.

He nods before spinning you around and pinning you against the counter with your ass facing him. You tilt your head to the side and let him grope one of your breasts from behind as he finds that sweet spot on your neck once more. Your grip around his arm tightens in anticipation.

Before you know it, all you feel is a rush of pain. The kind of pain you’d imagine if your cat evolved into a saber-toothed tiger and made you her next meal. You can’t tell if it’s his fangs sinking deeper into your skin or the rapid draining of your blood that hurts more. The boy bites down harder, and a whimper escapes your throat against your will. This one feels more like an injection with the fattest needle the doctor can find. A different sensation from pain quickly invades your body. It’s burning with intensity.

The two holes in your neck suddenly feel hollow as the boy pulls back to check on you. You look over your shoulder. His eyes are wide with concern, and his lips are beautifully plump and drenched in your blood. It looks more like a sweet strawberry glaze. Is it bad that you want him to kiss you with those lips?

“You okay?” He wipes the blood from his mouth and licks it off his thumb before it can drip down his chin. His tongue cleans up your neck as well. To your surprise, the pain vanishes, or maybe you’re just numb to it. 

You nod. You might not have been okay a few seconds ago, but you are now. Your body just feels hot. Really hot. Like if Jungkook doesn’t get you out of your dress right now, you’re going to lose it. 

You spin around to face him and press your body against his. Your fists cling to his black crewneck, your eyes beg for him to undress you, your body aches to be touched.

Finally, the boy takes a hint and slips your body out of the dress. He lifts you onto the counter and stares at you in your cutest lingerie, perhaps plotting where he might bite you next. Before he can think too much about it, you throw your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist.

His lips collide with yours. Your tongue gets tangled with his. It’s messy, dirty, loud, but you love every second of it. Not even the hint of blood you taste can spoil the moment.

“Mm, you're driving me mad, Jeon,” you whisper down his throat as you start grinding against his crotch. That big bulge in his pant has been tempting you for far too long. You wonder if anyone’s ever been kicked out of photography class for having sex in The Darkroom. Thankfully, there’s a lock so no one can walk in while you’re being fucked on top of the counter… or while negatives and prints are being developed.

You feel his hands sneak down from your waist. The tips of his fingers loop around your panties and slip them off your booty with such finesse. You’re ready to return the favor by freeing what you assume is a nice and swollen vampire cock trapped in his tight jeans, but he keeps on going with his own agenda. You’re not complaining.

He lifts one of your legs and leaves a trail of eager kisses up your inner thigh. His lips are so soft that you almost forget about his fangs. He could very easily bite you again, but he doesn’t.

As his lips get closer to your center, you can’t stop thinking about how desperately you need his tongue to soothe the unbearable ache between your legs. You haven’t even been touched yet, but you already tell that you won’t last long.

Before he goes in for a taste, he glances up at you helplessly pleading with your eyes for him to start pleasuring you already. Your face is so flushed with heat and sex, and it’s apparently distracting enough for Jungkook to stare at for a good minute instead of touching you.

Impatient and frustrated, you move your own hand down, but you’re immediately caught. He holds your wrist with a firm grip and gives you a devilish smirk. “I want to watch you squirm some more for me.”

You knew it. He gets a real kick out of torturing you in such an aroused state. You whine like a hungry little kitten as you roll your hips out of desperation, but there’s nothing to grind against, nothing to rub away your thirst for raw and rough sex. You’re so powerless.

“Good girl.” Pleased with your behavior, the vampire licks his thumb and strokes you once between your wet folds. You cry out in pleasure with your head thrown back and almost come on the spot. That’s how well your body responds to his touch and the sound of his voice.

“More,” you beg. You’re back to square one with nothing but a soaked pussy that isn’t being tended to. Who knows how long he intends to keep toying with you like this. “Please, more.”

He throws both of your thighs over his shoulders and pulls you in by the ass until he’s got the perfect view of your poor little pussy all drenched in your own lust. You don’t think you’ve ever been this wet in your entire life. 

You admittedly have a kink for guys eating you out, but all the other guys you’ve slept with had to be convinced to test the waters (they were shitty), and a few of them didn’t even bother hiding their lack of enthusiasm (they were shittier). So the fact that Jungkook’s mouth naturally gravitates down there is not only a pleasant surprise but also a huge turn-on. You wonder if he somehow picked up on that kink of yours, or if it’s a byproduct of being a vampire who lusts after the taste of his lover.

Without warning, his tongue presses into you and flirts with that swollen aching bud of yours. You grab a fistful of the boy’s hair the way you’d be clawing bedsheets if the two of you weren’t stuck doing it on campus. God, he must be so fucking good in bed where no one has to worry about knocking over expensive photo equipment or spilling chemicals out of the trays neither of you bothered emptying before things got physical.

The first time he sucks your clit between his lips, the raw and filthy moan you let out is comparable to the moans you usually reserve for the best orgasms. That’s how fucking good his mouth feels. Hopefully, the walls can block sound as effectively as they block light.

“Don’t come yet,” he warns, still very much into your pretty little pussy. You nod submissively even though he’s far too invested in eating you out to look up. There’s something so charming about a guy who likes giving oral as much as he likes being the dominant one. Jungkook clearly knows how to do both.

You really start to come undone when he feasts on your clit like a lollipop, working his tongue and sucking at the same time. It must be the best lollipop in the world because he’s really going at it with impassioned moans and groans of his own. Hearing him enjoy it only brings you closer to hitting your high. Your eyes roll back and your lewd sounds keep leaking out of you like a broken record, as if your body has completely surrendered to the pleasure he’s giving you.

“Fuck, Jungkook, please, I—”

There’s a knock at the door.

Your whole body stiffens. You’ve never been interrupted during sex. What do people normally do? You’d ask Jungkook, but he’s still busy with your lower half.  And he obviously knows there’s someone waiting outside because he snorts at the muffled gasp you almost fail to contain.

“Um, we’ll be out in a minute, sorry,” you call out in as steady of a voice as you can manage while on the verge of coming.

A second later, the boy finishes you off with a soft and sneaky bite and a whole lot of tongue to help you ride out your orgasm. It’s probably the only vampire bite that’s all pleasure and no pain. You wish all of them could be like that.

Your sex sounds would have been much louder and filthier if someone wasn’t waiting on the other side of the door, but the soft whimpering you do isn’t exactly wholesome either. Even after the pleasure fades, you need to take a moment to catch your breath and come back down to reality. 

Jungkook does the same, dropping your legs from his shoulders and licking your creamy lust off his lips. He waits at the door for you to straighten up and slip your dress back on since you were the only one on the receiving end. It’s an absolute tragedy that his cock didn’t get any action, but you’re hopeful there will be a next time.

“Would you have kept going?” you ask after the two of you escape The Darkroom. He’s walking you home without even offering.

“Did it seem like I was done with you?” He narrows his eyes at your ignorance.

“No… but I mean, how much longer were you going to make me wait?” If you had to guess, you’d say he had another solid twenty minutes in him. After all, he was savoring every bit of your taste.

“That’s for you to find out next time,” he says so nonchalantly. So there definitely will be a next time. Good to know. Now you have time to mentally prepare for the long and delicious torture ahead. “You’re gonna wish someone interrupts us again.”

Sounds promising.

Jungkook’s POV

“Hey, can I tell you a secret?” you ask him with that dang sparkle in your eye. He nods, of course. “I think I enjoyed our quickie in The Darkroom more than any sex I’ve had in the bedroom.”

That’s because vampire fangs contain a special venom that temporarily enhances the sexual urges and pleasures of the humans they bite. Apparently, it brings their pleasure up to the same intensity that vampires feel (aka a lot more than the average human).

The problem is that Jungkook doesn’t know how to bring it up to you. You clearly didn’t handle the bite all that well, and he doesn’t want to sound like he’s just pressuring you into giving him your blood in exchange for a better sexual experience.

“Do the Twilight vampires have any special venom?” he asks.

“It turns humans into vampires, I think,” you shrug. “Why? Are you planning on turning me into a vampire?”

“No, no,” he waves off your valid accusation. That’s a loaded question for some other time. “The venom I injected you with—”

“You injected me with venom?”

“Yeah, but it’s harmless… kind of.” He’s digging himself into a hole. It’s probably better to just be frank. “It’s like a sex enhancer so humans can feel the same level of pleasure as us.”

“Oh.” You purse your lips in thought. Your duck face is quite adorable. “Is that why I felt so hot after you bit me?”

“Yeah,” he nods. “I should’ve told you soon—”

“Wait, so are you actually bad at giving oral, but I just enjoyed it because of the sex venom?” Another valid (but rude) accusation. He can tell you’re just messing with him, though. You do this cute little nose scrunch thing whenever you’re being flirty.

“Fine, I won’t bite you next time.” All this talk about a next time. Hopefully you want a next time as much as he does. He’s already yearning for your body to be his again. “Then you can tell me how much you hate it while your wet little pussy rubs itself against my tongue and—”

“Okay, I get it. You’re a good lay with or without the sex venom,” you snicker. The way you keep referring to it as “the sex venom” is so endearing for no reason. Everything you do at this point is charming the fuck out of him. That’s how bad he has it for you, though he’d never outright admit it.

When the two of you arrive at your doorstep, Jungkook waits for you to pull out your keys and say goodbye. But instead, you stand there and blink at him. He blinks back.

“Do vampires need to be invited in?” You sound so shy all of a sudden. Maybe you like his company. Maybe you want someone to cuddle up to while watching that demon thing you won’t shut up about.

“Is that your way of inviting me in?”

“We could watch Demon Slayer?” you suggest as you open the door and usher him in. He still has no idea what Demon Slayer is, but he’ll watch it with you if it means you’ll never lose that mischievous little sparkle in your eye. 

Jungkook nods. He’s starting to feel like what the kids these days call a “simp.” Except, the things he does for you are unconditional. He’s never looking for anything in return, not when he talked your counselor into letting you drop the class, nor when he decided to help you out in the darkroom. The only thing he’s made you promise is to keep the vampire thing a secret. And that just comes with the territory.

“Don’t invite your demon friends, though.” You throw your arms over his shoulders and give him a nice long kiss. God, he loves how good you taste. Kisses aren’t supposed to be sweeter than blood, but yours are. “I want you all to myself.”

He carries you to the bedroom, plays with your cat, and decides that Inosuke is his favorite Demon Slayer character. He even helps you hang up your new wall decor even though it makes him feel like he’s your new celebrity crush. 

But his favorite part is the way you run your little fingers across his cold skin, the way you trace his tattoos and say you want one too, and the warmth you radiate when you’re with him.

#bts smut #jungkook smut #bts scenarios #bts fanfic #bts imagines #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #bts fluff #bts vampire smut #bts vampire au #bts college au #vampire jungkook #jungkook #bts

[phoenix-bleh]

I have a request: How about Shadow Milk Cookie with a reader who makes a play for him? Could be a play about him, reader's adventures or anything else in general, you decide!

This is a whole fic omg

Shadow Milk Cookie has always been doing plays for you on his stage, so you thought it would be nice if you did one yourself and showed it to him. You went to the little craft store 10 blocks away from your house. When you got there, you looked around for a bit and saw so much crafting material. You didn’t need much though, so you left with some cardboard, color paper, markers, and other fancy stuff for cool effects.

Once you get back you immediately speed walk into your room. You plan on making this a surprise for him. You wrote down on paper a whole script on things he might enjoy. You cut out cardboard, glued paper together, and worked as hard as you could being as precise as possible. In the end you had a cardboard stage and a bunch of paper figures. You sighed and looked at your work “I wonder if my acting skills are any good….”

Now that everything was ready and you memorized the script, you began setting everything up and waited for his arrival. When he did show up he was so excited. When he heard that you made a play just for HIM?? He wasn’t used to it, since he was always the one putting on a show. He felt much appreciated. 

You told him to sit in front of your mini cardboard stage while you get everything else ready. While he was waiting for you he stared at your set up. He giggled a little to himself. He thought it was adorable how much effort you put into the props.

When you came back you sat behind your cardboard stage and started your play

“This is a story about an ordinary cookie but little did you know their life was gonna take a whole different turn!”

The story goes one day a cookie named y/n decided to be a bit more adventurous than they normally are. They decided to go explore the dark forest, for they heard rumors of big beasts and strange creatures that roam the dark land. However this cookie wasn’t truly aware of the extreme dangers of the forest. “This forest is pretty. I should explore this place more often!”   

(Imagine during the play you lean on the cardboard stage a bit too much and it ends up flopping onto the ground. You're looking straight at him while he’s laughing his ass off)

The clueless cookie ended up going deeper into the forest, more than they should have. They didn’t notice a group of spores trailing close behind. Luckily someone had pulled them aside. Looking at who grabbed them it was none other than Shadow Milk Cookie! “What is a cookie like you walking around this forest? Don’t you know how dangerous it is here, have you not heard of the rumors?”

Before the cookie could respond back to him they both got attacked by a group of spores. He quickly pulled them behind him and started defending against them, getting a good strike on them every so now and then. He then grabbed the cookie’s arm and ran past them as fast as possible. Eventually they ended up near the end of the first, safe from any other creatures. “Omg when I heard of the rumors I didn’t believe they were true”

The End.

You ended your quick story and took a peek behind your stage to see if he actually enjoyed or was disappointed. You saw him with a big old smile and cheering and clapping for you saying how amazing you did. You stood up and bowed like what he would do. He ran up to you and gave you a big squeeze. “You know? Me and you should start doing plays together! Wouldn’t that be fun?”

–bonus shadow milk’s reactions during your play–

He was most likely silently laughing at your bad impression of him and the funny movements you gave the paper puppets.

You did make some noticeable mistake during your play like forgetting the script and forgetting which puppet you were holding, which he found hilarious 

Other than that he genuinely thinks you did amazing and praises you for your creativity telling you “You’re almost as good as me!”

#cookie run kingdom #shadow milk cookie #crk #crk x reader #shadow milk cookie x reader

[kmt123whatsthetea]

Karma’s a b*tch

Fred Weasley x reader x George Weasley

Fred and George get revenge on a girl who used to bully them in school by turning her into a submissive slut.

A/N: I told an AI on Chai that I wrote fanfics and it requested this (AI’s are kinky bastards). I came back to it because @jelloangela asked about an enemies to lovers fic. I know this isn't exactly enemies to lovers, but hey, it's still dirty as hell.

T/W: Rough sex, mean twins, No aftercare, Reader is a real a-hole and a Slytherin, Weasley twin bashing (I was only mean to suit our character), Bondage, Manhandling, Tie gag? (it will make sense when you read it), Maybe a little bit of dub-con, Hair pulling, Degradation, Spit roast (Vaginal and oral simultaneously), Cum swallowing, Orgasm denial

Every school has bullies. It's natural. Hogwarts just had a whole house full. Slytherin was the type of house that practically gave all those wearing the crest a free pass to be as cruel as possible.

Tripped up a student? 20 points to Slytherin

Hexed a first year? 50 points to Slytherin

There were the younger Slyterins who went along with it because they wanted to fit in with their new ‘family’, and then there were those who actually seemed to enjoy it. That's how the Weasley twins of Gryffindor first noticed you. Ever since the first year, you weren’t meek. You took pride in those you terrorised. You went out of your way to learn new spells just for the sole purpose of misery. When you first met the Weasley clan, they were an easy target.

You had heard people talking about them. About how the new Weasley boys both had handed down clothes and books. It wasn't a secret that most Slytherins had parents who were well off, and you were one of them. You took to the Weasley Twins like a bee to a flower picking child. You mocked every little thing they did, from the pranks they pulled to how they acted.

This went on for the whole 7 years of school.

After Hogwarts, you found that school wasn’t like life. You couldn't bully your way to the top like you could before. So when in Diagon Alley one day, you chose to go into the new Weasley Wizard Wheezes just to regain some of that power you once had.

The shop was the Weasley twins to a T. It was like walking straight into their mind. Everything was bright and colourful. Things popped and whizzed and sparked about the shop. Finding said twins was easier than you thought. Two ginger tufts of hair could be seen from a mile away. You made your way over there with a smirk on your face, but that smirk dropped when you saw the twins.

They looked so…grown up

Those two pranksters with untucked shirts and crooked ties were now standing on the staircase to their own business in suits that were both smart and ridiculous. For a minute, you stood there like a fish out of water, your mouth opening and closing as you took them in. a familiar voice slapped you out of your blubbering.

“Lookie here Georgie, I think a rat wandered too far from Knockturn Alley”

“So it seems. Maybe a hex will send her packing”

The men snickered to each other, and for a split second you felt a foreign feeling. Embarrassment. As soon as that feeling vanished, you painted your smirk back on and spit venom at them.

“Nice shop, Weasleys. Did your parents give you the money to open it or did you mooch off of the golden boy?”

There was a rumour floating around that Harry had given the twins the money for something. You just hoped it was right to give your words some merit. And it had. George looked away and Freds eyebrows furrowed. You felt that familiar pride and continued.

“Still selling the same old rubbish since Hogwarts? I guess not everyone has an aspiration to do something with their lives instead of working in retail”

Fred took a step down, a step towards you.

“We’re just doing what we’re good at. Maybe you should come back later and we’ll show you our new little project”

Fred looked up at George with a knowing smirk, one that George soon mirrored. You missed their shared look in favour of turning your nose up at the endless shelves of boxes, gadgets, and gizmos.

“Maybe I will”

And just like that, the twins' plan was set in stone.

____________________________________________

You came back to the shop a few hours later. The inside of the shop was dark and empty. The only light came from the top of the stairs that the twins had stood on earlier. You gave the door a knock and started tapping your foot when the twins didn’t immediately rush to open it.

When one of the men came to let you in, you gave a huff.

“Make me wait, why don't you? What’s the project?

The twin that let you in just smirked and led you to the stairs. He gave a gesturing nod, urging you to climb. When you got to the top and opened the door, you found the other twin. The door was locked behind you and your hands were forced behind your back. Before you could struggle, you felt something soft around your wrists. You looked back as best you could and saw the black leather handcuffs connecting your wrists to one another.

The twin behind you placed his hands on your shoulders and pushed you down to kneel, keeping you there and increasing the pressure when you tried to stand up or squirm. The twin in front of you removed his tie and wrapped it around your mouth, keeping you quiet.

“You know, you’ve aged pretty well. Perfect tits, perfect ass, and then a bratty mouth. I bet you’re still the same spoiled little bitch you were in school. You had so much fun teasing people, but no one ever gave you a taste of your own medicine, did they brat?”

You tried to argue back, but it came out as a muffled mess or words. The twin holding your shoulders chuckled.

“I bet she’s cursing your name, Freddie”

“Or she’s begging to be put in her place”

Those very words send a chill up your spine and your clit seemed to twitch at the thought of being under their control. You were meant to hate these men, you had bullied them for years. Should their words alone excite you as much as they did?

George grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled your head back, making sure that you kept your eyes on Fred. Fred knelt down before you to push your dress up to your stomach. He let out a dark chuckle.

“White lace? Is this for us, slut or are you trying to act innocent? There's no way a little whore like you is a virgin, I bet you were Slytherin’s house slut. Tell us, did you get on your knees for every boy or just those who had money”

It didn't matter how much you squirmed or tried to argue, you were stuck. But maybe that wasn't a bad thing.

George puts his hands under your arms and hoists you to your feet. He pushed you towards one of the doors, which led into a bedroom. One of the men forced you onto your knees on the bed with your face down. When a pair of hands pushed your dress up, the twins were met with just how wet you were.

The sound of fabric rustling and belts clinking met your ears, and your suspicions of their actions was confirmed when one of the ginger duo sat against the headboard in front of you with spread legs. You had to stop your eyes from widening. As that famous quote always stated:

You’re enemies are always more well endowed than your boyfriends

Or something like that, anyway.

The twin before you moved his hand to your hair and pulled you closer until your breath ghosted across his eager tip. He pinched your nose, waiting until you took a much needed breath, before forcing his cock in your mouth. He didn't let you get used to the weight on your tongue before roughly moving your head up and down.

A second pair of hands pulled your underwear to your knees and pushed something thick against your entrance. The moan that left your throat was muffled by the cock in your mouth. Your hands gripped the tie that kept them behind your back as your pussy was forced to accommodate the cock that was pushing inside. The cock in your pussy was soon pulled out, but you didn't stay empty for very long.

If someone had told a 17 year old you that the Weasley twins would force you to submit to them and use you as a fuck toy in the near future, you might have punched said person for even suggesting it. But if they had included how good it felt, you might have warmed up to the twins long ago.

The hands moving your head became more forceful until they held you down, keeping the twitching appendage snug in your throat. Your throat was soon filled with hot cum, it was so deep in your throat that you had no choice but to swallow.

The hands pulled your hair up, the cock slipping from your mouth. As soon as your lidded eyes looked to the face in front of you, that damned smirk was still there.

“What a dirty little slut. She swallows. You are gonna keep your eyes on me while Fred cums inside of that slutty cunt, and if you look away for even a second, he’ll keep cumming inside of you until you learn your lesson”

The whine that left your throat was sinful. The pace was so rough that each thrust had your body jolting, but George's tight grip on your hair kept you still. You did as told, surprisingly. You kept your eyes trained. A small part of your mind realised that they would use you again if you looked away, but that thought was quickly shut down. You hated these guys, and you were too stubborn to let this become a regular thing.

The grunts behind you became more vocal as your pussy was flooded by sticky cum. Fred pulled out before you even had a chance to reach your own release. You shot George a dirty look, which to him, looked like a child throwing a tantrum.

“If you want to cum, brat, we can always go again”

Would it really be so bad if this became a regular thing?

#george weasley #george weasley fic #george weasley x fem #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x you #fred weasley #george weasley smut #fred weasley smut #george wealsey x reader #george weasley headcanon #fred wealsey fic #fred weasley x fem!reader #fred weasely x y/n #fred weasley x you #fred weasly x reader #fred weasley headcanons #fred weasley fic #george weasely smut #george weasly x reader #weasley twins smut #weasley twins

[mybelovedwoo]

Boyfriend hongjoong or mingi PLEASE?

Thank u so much for your request! I will do Hongjoong now as he was the first one you wrote, but I will do Mingi in the future too!!

kim hongjoong as boyfriend - headcanon

headcanon, romance, fluff, smut

gn!reader x bf!atz

wc. ~0.8k

an: you can request headcanons if you want to (please only headcanons)!! if you want to be tagged in any of my fics you can apply here <3

masterlist

-the always admires you from far away type of boyfriend

-like he always has such heart eyes for you whenever you go somewhere together, you are talking about something in a group setting, he always listens to your every word carefully, he never disappoints you, or he sees how good you're getting along with his members, he smiles at you with that lovesick smile of his

-but sometimes he can get a little jealous too, we know he's an extreme scorpio, like is anyone surprised honestly?

-probably spends most of his time at the studio, but doesn't mind when you accompany him, indeed loves it, he can get a little distracted with your presence sometimes tho

-you always feel so special, because you're the first person to hear some songs of his, in return, you always try to encourage him and tell him how amazing of a producer and songwriter he is (it's not a lie)

-after he is done working in the studio, he usually takes you out for dinner, refuses you to pay for anything, and gets mad when you tell him that you want to pay this time

-you would think he is not much of a fan of physical affection, but it's so different with you, the only place he wouldn't give you that much of it is in public places and in front of his friends and family

-he would hold your hands wherever you go, occasionally he raises yours to his mouth and gives it a quick peck, so you can feel his love even when you're in public

-you wouldn't know this, but he likes to brag about you, telling his friends how wonderful his significant other is

-very protective of you, because he thinks you are his treasure. he would dead-stare everyone who would even look at your way

-would think about your future together, and moving in with you the first month of dating, but would never actually tell you, because he doesn't want to scare you off or something

-his biggest fear is that he can't show you how much he loves you. if he can see any doubt or insecurity, he will reassure you with the most meaningful words and wouldn't ever leave your side in a moment like this

-you two often joke around with "being mean" to each other. it's just you guys' thing. he is definitely into it when you are being mean to him

-always asks you to paint his nails, and he always does the same for you. picking out the colors for each other. also picks out the other's outfit just for fun, but ends up changing the whole thing because it "wasn't him"

-the type of boyfriend that would give you his jacket, saying he isn't cold, but would actually be freezing

-he brings you home little gifts from everywhere he goes around the world, saying "I had to buy it, it reminded me of you baby"

-would stare straight into your eyes before he kisses you, holds your face with one hand at your jaw. also the first thing he does is kiss you every time you two wake up together in the morning, he thinks it's really important and the best way to start the day

nsfw +18!!!

-okay hear me out he is a very emotional lover and sometimes he can get carried away by his feelings, but he is definitely a dom in the bedroom, not a hard dom, but not a soft dom (you know what I mean)

-he prefers intense sex, where can get everything out of his head, and the bedroom is the safest place for him to share it with the person he loves the most, he desires passion and intimacy

-doesn't mind trying out new things, as long as you are okay with it too, very open and adventurous

-his biggest turn-on is direct eye contact I'm telling you, this boy is a sucker for it. he loves how he can see every emotion on your face, it is very intimate and vulnerable for him 

-biggest turn off probably power play, he just doesn't like it when somebody is trying to control him, and probably everything that involves pain

-i feel like hongjoong would be very vocal in bed, sometimes having full-on conversations with you, and also even dirty talk, but only in a loving way, he would never be mean to you in such a vulnerable moment

-this man's sex drive is high af, you would have sex at least four times a week, but it's probably more than that, to be honest, literally doing it in every part of the house, in the kitchen, bathroom, living room, on the floor, literally everywhere

-so for positions, i think he would love a classic missionary where he can keep that eye contact but would love a good flatiron where he is doing you from behind but still stays close to you, also one of his favorites would be just scooping you up from behind, just cuddling up and kissing your face all over

-he would get all sleepy after sex, so he forgets aftercare sometimes, he just falls asleep with you in his arms (who would blame this man, he works too hard)

#ateez #ateez fluff #ateez scenarios #ateez imagine #ateez fanfic #hongjoong headcanon #hongjoong fic #hongjoong #hongjoong x reader #kim hongjoong #ateez hongjoong #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez x you #ateez smut #hongjoong boyfriend #hongjoong fluff #hongjoong smut #hongjoong x you

[pixqlsin]

hi jaebae :> (kill me) wait that's not my req WAHAHAHHAHAHA ok

so what if a fic of you and miles passing notes to each other in class, and miles just keeps trying to rizz you up but it's not working (it's actually quite pathetic in your opinion) so he just straight up asks you, forgetting the fact you two were in class, "damn man how can i get you to say yes to go out with me?"

the whole class stares. and he's a deer in headlights. and you're laughing, and in love, and considering a date with him :>>>

rizzless notes ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

pairing: earth 1610 miles morales x fem!reader

summary: miles trying to rizz you up during math class

authors notes: i assumed 1610 miles as he as broken rizz (no offense i love him) and also i feel like 42 would have hella rizz. anyway this wasn’t my best writing but i hope you enjoy it!! ty for the request <3 this was also a little short so i’m sorry 🙁

the girl sat in class, next to one of her classmates she was kinda friends with. meaning they would talk at times but never hung out he was cute n all but way out of her league

she let out a small huff as she stared at the clock tapping her foot awaiting the moment the bell would ring, the silence broke as she heard a crumble of a paper pass over to her.

the girl turned her head over to see a paper crumpled up next to her. she looked around quickly to assure no teacher was looking, snatched the paper and read the note.

the note revealing: “hii do u have the question for number 8?” the note read with an ending part saying “—miles” so it was from miles.

the girl sighed realizing she hasn’t even started on the paper that was given approximately 10 minutes ago, the girl picked her pencils up before writing back. “no but i’ll figure it out”

she handed the note back to miles, occasional crumple were heard as some students turned around to discover the noise was from miles.

she got thrown back the note and opened it discovering neat handwriting saying: “oh okay, you doing anything tonight?” the girl giggled a little causing a domino effect of students to glance at her.

the girl silenced herself as she realized she was being watched and quickly wrote back: “do you want the answer or not” in messy ish handwriting.

handing back the paper earned a chuckle from the boy next to her. “sorry :( and please” he wrote back before passing it back.

the classroom was silent as they watched the two pass notes back and forth, not bothering to snitch as this was a cute moment.

“it’s 60 ♡” she wrote back, smiling a little at her final touch of the heart, you know why not? she didn’t like him? she just didn’t it for fun? right?

the boy was FLUSHED when he saw just the heart, everyone in the class knew he was head over heels for the girl he sat next to. except the girl. she was clueless to say the least.

the nervous boy wrote back, “thank you i owe you. how about a movie tomorrow movie?” he said trying again for atleast a hangout or even a date.

it felt like lover by taylor swift was playing dimly behind this moment, everyone was staring even the teacher was kinda listening.

the girl hummed at the note writing back sloppily, “nu uh” she wrote quickly sliding it back like she didn’t even interact with him.

she heard a series of groaning and sighing before being slid back a paper saying, “damn ma, how many times am i gonna have to ask you out?” he wrote putting a ;) at the end to be cocky you know?

the girl opened the paper back up and giggled a little smiling also. “alright fine we can go see a movie :))” she wrote back, blush hinting at her cheeks as she passed the note back nervously waiting on a response.

a quiet “yes” was heard next to her. success. he wrote back “okay here’s my number and we can talk about it from there?” he wrote putting his number next to the sentence.

the class was relieved something happened, they couldn’t go another day with Miles gawking over his table mate.

idk how to end it so end 😫

please do not steal or repost on another platform. reblogs are appreciated

taglist: @zalayni @fictarian @jrrantss @luvstarrstruck @laylasbunbunny

#miles morales x reader #across the spiderverse #miles morales #miles morales appreciation #miles morales x y/n #miles morales x you #earth 1610 miles fluff #earth 1610 miles morales x reader #earth 1610 miles x reader #earth 1610 miles angst #into the spiderverse

[jakeshands]

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

[nburkhardt]

Somebody Loves You, You Got A Friend.

Hello! This is my abo teenage parents steddie fic I talked about a few times. Wrote it a while ago for myself, never felt quite confident for sharing. But after sharing the few snippets, here’s the start! There’s real no end to it, it’s mostly slice of life with nearly no real plot. (Title is from Spaceship by Andy Grammer)

Some info you should know: it takes place in season 2. Originally wasn’t going to include the upside down but switched it to have it. ANYWAY, enjoy the start! It’s mostly Steve angst and only a hint of Eddie lol.

So, here’s the thing… Steve never keep his secondary gender a secret. In fact, he was quite proud of it. Mostly because it pisses his dad off to no end, and well, pissing off his dad is one of his and his mom’s favorite past time.

With that said he was definitely proud to take after his mom and for being a male omega. He knows it probably pisses more people off than they let on and really, that makes his fucking day.

Sometime around the time he entered high school, his status went sky high. He didn’t mind, though finding true friends was rough. Especially when Tommy and Carol glued themselves to him within a few hours of knowing him. Since he didn’t keep his omega status a secret, they thought he was weaker and needed to be protected. With Tommy being an alpha and Carol a beta, they decided to be best friends. It pissed him off, but at the time he didn’t have many friends. But of course, he’s not weak. He knows how to protect himself and even others.

His life gets flipped upside down, shortly after Nancy Wheeler calls him ‘bullshit’ in a bathroom at a dumb Halloween party.

It’s been months since Will Byers disappeared, thought dead and found alive. Also months since Nancy’s best friend fucking died while sitting at his pool. All while he and Nancy were in bed, they only found out in the next morning at school.

Nancy’s words send him spiraling down immediately, because unlike her, he does or did love her. So in a blind panic, he leaves the room and then the house and straight into the forest behind. Freaking out and sobbing as he went.

He didn’t know how long he was there, all he remembers of the night is panicking and then someone that smells of smoke, rain and freshly cut grass, helps him to his car and on his way. With only a matchbook with a number on it sitting on his passenger seat as who helped him.

In the morning, he gets ready for school, kisses his mom on the cheek and goes on his way. Only pocketing the matchbook as he parks in the school parking lot.

The day is simple only because he avoids Nancy as much as he can and then nearly get his ass handed to him by the new big alpha in town, Billy Hargrove.

“Should plant your feet, pretty boy”

He rolls his eyes, “shove the fuck off, Hargrove”

Billy is about to do another shove, he can’t figure out why to be honest. His scent is currently covered by scent blockers, the one thing his mom told him to take. When he notices Nancy waving him down, so he goes willingly to that danger instead.

It’s nothing but anger from her, it’s rolling off her in her scent even with a blocker, “Why didn’t you pick me up?”

He scruffs, “because I’m apparently bullshit?”

She at least flinches at that. But doesn’t apologize, at least, not the way he’d like. She does try to excuse it all by saying she was drunk and if there is one thing he took to heart from his asshole dad; drunk words are sober thoughts.

The final kicker of the whole conversation: her not saying “I love you” after he pleads her to.

He decides after that, Nancy Wheeler is someone he refuses to be with.

—

If you made it this far great!! Because after this the real fun begins 🥳 meaning Eddie is actually there and you get to meet my favorite person, Janet Harrington… Steve’s mom! This was just getting things mostly set up. I hope it doesn’t seem too weird with jumping around or weird phrasing lol.

(Btw, I don’t necessarily keep to everything everyone does in abo fics. I go with whatever I like and easy to work with. So there’s scents, mates, pack easy things. Nothing too explicit either, I’m definitely not confident enough to post smut hahaha.) OH AND IF YOU HAVE QUESTIONS OR WANNA TALK ABOUT THIS AU MY MESSAGES AND ASK BOX IS ALWAYS OPEN!!!!!

Permanent Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @itsfreakingbats @mysticcrownshipper @artiststarme @thereindeerlady @justforthedead89 @ronniescontinuum @freyaforestafay

Also those who liked my snippet: @zerokrox-blog @callme-keys @maya-custodios-dionach @rajumat @yellowdevilkitten @munsonfamilyband @steddierthings

#steddie #steddie fic #omegaverse #omega steve harrington #alpha eddie munson #steddie abo #abo fic #stranger things fic #nburkhardt writes #Steve Harrington fic

[redpenship]

an: a little fic i wrote in a couple of hours about sonic having terrible hedgehog eyesight <3 (1.6k words)

-

Sonic can’t see very well. 

There’s a lot about the hedgehog that Tails doesn’t know. He doesn’t know Sonic’s birthday, where he comes from, why he doesn’t like to talk . . . his new friend is a big mystery to him, and one that would apparently prefer to remain unsolved, at that. 

One thing he does know, however, is that Sonic has very poor eyesight. 

Of course, Sonic has never directly revealed this to him. His weak vision has simply become increasingly obvious over the course of their short two months of friendship. 

Tails curled up for a nap on their shared blanket around half an hour ago, but despite his growing body’s need for rest, he can’t fall asleep just yet. He’s too busy watching Sonic through the gaps in his tail fur, which he has placed over his snout to conceal his face while he ‘napped’. It’s probably wrong to look at people without them knowing, but he’s too intrigued by Sonic’s bizarre actions to look away. 

A few minutes ago, Sonic had put down their pack of matches on a stump in front of him while he opened the canteen to take a sip of water. After putting down the water, he’d looked back up and apparently, in such a short span of time, lost the pack of matches needed to light the fire. He’s been searching since then, notably patting down his surroundings with his hands in lieu of conducting a visual sweep of the area. If anything, it almost seems like he doesn’t trust his vision at all. 

It doesn’t take much longer for Sonic to find the matches. He turns the once-missing box over in front of his eyes, a hard expression on his face. Is he upset? 

Suddenly, Sonic stiffens in place. His right ear swivels towards Tails, and the young fox knows he’s been found out even before Sonic’s head can follow through on the movement. 

They meet eyes through Tails’ fur. Sonic frowns, blinks once, twice, and then turns back to the fire pit. 

He avoids Tails for the rest of the night. Tails learns something important that day: Sonic knows he has bad eyesight, and he doesn’t like it when other people know about it too.

Quietly, to himself, Tails swears to pretend he never saw anything. If Sonic doesn't want him to know that he can't see very well, then he'll just act like he never figured it out in the first place.

-

Sonic's eyesight goes unacknowledged for a whole year, until there’s a storm bad enough to ground the Tornado on Angel Island during what was supposed to be a brief trip to visit Knuckles. The storm winds up passing not too long after sundown, and the clear skies reveal light years of stars and constellations above where they’re resting in the grass. 

“The three dots are called Orion’s Belt,” Tails says, pointing to the sky in an effort to guide Knuckles’ gaze to said constellation. “Do you see it?” 

Knuckles squints. After a moment, he nods. “Yes, I do.” 

They take turns pointing out different stars to each other. Tails is having fun until he remembers the hedgehog sitting beside him. 

He glances over. Sonic is staring at the night sky with that same hard expression from the time he lost the matches, lips turned down into a scowl. He isn’t happy at all. 

It dawns on Tails for the first time that he might not be capable of seeing the stars. Thinking back, he can’t recall many times Sonic has actually looked up at the sky. His gaze is usually set straight ahead, focused only on what is right in front of him. It does not wander because there is not much else it can see. 

“Hey, hedgehog,” Knuckles begins, pulling both Sonic and Tails’ attention towards him. “Are you going to help, or are you just going to sit there and do nothing?” 

Sonic’s jaw tenses. He snaps his head away from Knuckles, staring straight ahead at nothing instead. “I’m going to sit here and do nothing, thanks.” 

Knuckles smirks. “Why? Do you not know any?”

It’s the wrong thing to joke about. Sharply, Sonic says, “No, I don’t know any.” 

In a flash, he’s on his feet at the other side of the meadow. Knuckles rolls his eyes and accuses him of melodrama, but Tails stops listening as he watches Sonic disappear into the woods at the edge of the grass. A rock as big as the Master Emerald has settled in his stomach. He wants to follow him and try to make things better, but knowing Sonic, that would only make things worse . . . 

Tails sleeps in the meadow. He doesn’t see Sonic until the next morning, where he largely avoids talking to both Tails and Knuckles until it’s time to go. 

-

Sonic’s eyesight does not impair his ability to forage. His nose twitches continuously while he looks through he forest for food, leading Tails to believe that his sense of smell and hearing carry the bulk of this spatial awareness. 

They help him fight badniks, too. Eggman’s machines are loud and smell like metal and oil. During a raid on one of the doctor’s bases, Tails puts this theory to the test by closing his eyes and trying to detect the objects around him. 

It works. Even without his sight, he’s able to keep track of nearby badniks pretty well. Sonic isn’t blind, per se, but it becomes evermore clear to Tails that Sonic’s resistance against Eggman would be much more challenging if he didn’t have his other senses to fall back on. 

The issue, today, is that those senses have been taken out by an explosion. 

It had started as a standard attack on an empire base. As they’d approached the last room in the base, neither of them had noticed the razor-thin tripwire stretched across entryway.

There had been no time to escape. Before Tails could blink, a fiery force knocked him off his feet and slammed him against a metal wall. 

His head hurts. He moves to get up, but comes to a stop when he notices a shrill ringing noise overtaking his hearing. The rest of the world is muffled, as though his head were underwater. 

If he can’t hear, then Sonic probably can’t, either . . . 

That thought is enough motivation for him to slowly rise to his feet. He can’t see Sonic through all the smoke, so he tries to sniff him out to no avail. The excessive smoke is blocking his sense of smell, too. 

His heart skips a beat. He needs to find Sonic and get him out of the base before Eggman’s badniks launch their counterattack—without his additional senses to guide him, Sonic has no chance of defending himself. 

Tails stumbles around the room, calling out Sonic’s name as he climbs over rubble despite knowing the futility of communicating with sound right now. The chaos of the scene around him is making him desperate. He knows a single explosion isn’t enough to kill Sonic, but the pain in his skull is sharp enough to stunt his logical reasoning and he struggles to resist the anxiety trying to pull him towards his darkest thoughts. There’s always a chance, after all, that Eggman has already arrived with his badnik forces and Tails just can’t hear or smell where they’re fighting Sonic . . . 

Eventually, he finds the hedgehog on the other side of the room. A small army of badniks have entered through a recently-blasted hole in the wall. Sonic has not taken notice of them, back to the horde as he digs through a pile of rubble nearby. 

One of the buzz bombers is charging a shot. It makes the pain in his head spike almost unbearably, but Tails manages to spin his tails for a boost and tackle Sonic out of the way just before the beam could release from the bee’s stinger. The shot rang out beside them, making contact with the wall instead. 

Tails fell on top of Sonic during the tackle, so he quickly scrambles off and turns to face the badniks. They’re charging more shots, and it looks like the Motobugs are going to start moving any second. Tails has to get them out of here now. 

He looks back down, ready to pull Sonic to his feet, but stalls for a brief moment when he registers the look on Sonic’s face. There is no hard, bitter expression this time—he just looks terrified. His ears are pinned back against his head, and his eyes dart every which way in desperation to get a grasp on his surroundings. His quills are flared up in a way Tails has never seen before, sharp and poking in all directions to maximize their protective properties. In all their time together, he’s never once witnessed Sonic appear to openly vulnerable and helpless. 

He has no desire to prolong Sonic’s suffering. Tails pulls him to his feet, keeping a paw in Sonic’s own so they won’t lose each other. Then, as fast he can without using his tails, he leads them out of the base through the hole the badniks made in the wall. 

Tails refuses to stop until knows they aren’t being followed anymore. They stop next to a small stream, where they’re able to wash the soot out of their fur and rest until they’ve recovered enough to begin the trek back to the Tornado and head back to the workshop. 

It doesn’t take too long. A couple hours later, Sonic breaks the silence. “Okay, the ringing is gone. I can hear again.” 

Tails stares at him for a long time. Sonic squints a little while he looks back at him, and this action is enough to finally make Tails break his promise. 

“Sonic, I think you need glasses.” 

#sonic the hedgehog #miles tails prower #get this guy some fucking contacts please #redposts #my fics

[momos-servants]

Older Zukka fics (that are not on Ao3)

Hello there ! I’m obsessed with searching and finding older Zukka content as the show was coming out or buried Zukka content nobody seems to find. S/o @nvergonnajimout and @somethingfoamy for being curious.

This fic list is crazy because fanfic writing back then was… different. But I’ll tell y’all what’s in it. These are some fics that I actually ended up reading and got hooked.

Here’s da list

Dragon’s prey by ajj77subhawk.

Y’all this is just straight smut in some parts. I liked it tho because Zuko is like a spirit dragon thingy?? And it was Sokka-centric. But it has power dynamics definitely so if y’all are okay with all three of those things go for it. Honestly I was hooked the first chapter. I consider it well written for being a fanfic from 2007. But it is not like the classy AO3 literature y’all might be accustomed to. There’s 28 chapters.

FYI this was the one site I was like iffy to be on because I thought my phone was going to get a virus, but it didn’t! It’s a safe site (to my standard). This was the only lengthy fic on the Zukka section on the site, but if you want to explore you will find much more smutty Zukka fics.

Zuko Sokka fic by violet-plude

DeviantArt!!! I miss you.

Anyways this is a collection on one shots I believe? I only read chapter 1 and chapter 4, but both of them are cute. It could be read as a bromance if you want. You can definitely tell it’s DeviantArt literature, it’s so early 2010s I miss this era.

Spirit’s Eve by Captain Peregrine

Halloween festival fic!! Loved this one. I think anyone would love this lil oneshot lol.

Play Nice by Scuttlebutt inc

It’s a bromance fic, but you can read it as Zukka. It’s just them bonding and having fun with sparring.

Quiet by Usagi Youkai

Oneshot !!! It’s a lil over 1,000 words. This author is pretty good, they were definitely carrying Zukka on their back on fanfiction.net back in the day.

Fire Child by Usagi Youkai

So this is probably the biggest warning: it’s mpreg. Which is definitely not everybody’s taste. I was iffy but I still read it and it actually surprised me. There was not over femininzation of Sokka. If you like to read kidfics, this is a good one!! There’s like 3 other fics the author wrote connecting to this fic. There’s 25 chapters. It’s the whole classic cliché where one of them gets pregnant (Sokka) and hides it from the other (Zuko).

Just Let Go by SomniumAngel

If y’all love reading toxic fics, this is for you! It’s a one shot and a song fic.

What's In a Name? by Kalira69

This is actually the youngest fic on the list as it was published in 2017. It’s a soulmate oneshot. The dissection of written language is Chefs kiss.

-

Anyways these are the fics that I have found so far and enjoyed! If I find more, I’ll definitely make another post! :)

#zukka #Sokka #zuko #avatar the last airbender #happy new year here’s some fics for y’all

[smolvenger]

Greetings bestie 💖🫡

Requesting a Professor Hiddles story (you can choose what subject he's teaching) where he already has this friendly type of dynamic w/ Reader and she's nervous about finals week and he goes "Tell you what, if you ace all your exams I'll take you out to dinner. Anything you want."

…And then (surprise surprise) she wants to skip all that because she just wants him 🫠🫠

I shall leave spice level entirely up to you 😏

And for some ✨inspiration✨…

Hi bestie! Thank you for requesting a Prof! Tom fic! I loved writing it!

Exam Aid (Prof! Tom Hiddleston x Student! Reader)

Summary: When finals have gotten you down, your Shakespeare professor offers some help...and motivation...

Word Count: 5939 (woof)

Warnings: Eventual Smut at the end! NSFW! (Reader is a college student ((if undergrad or graduate that's up to you)) so she's over 18. Dom! Prof Hiddles and Sub! Reader, dirty talk, vaginal fingering, doggy style, doing it in an office. It's super filthy when it gets there, so be warned), mentions of anxiety and insomnia and mental health. My Shakespeare tastes and my IRL English Major college experiences are used and referenced bc it's my indulgent fic too and I do what I want. Some hurt/comfort. Prof Hiddles being both a dom and silly goofy in one fic bc get you a man who can do both.

Taglist: @huntress-artemiss@ijuststareatstuffhereok89@evelyn-kingsley@jennyggggrrr@five-miles-over@fictive-sl0th@ladycamillewrites@villainousshakespeare@holdmytesseract (smut starts at "I'm good at more than just kissing" and ends at "He looked at you with a sweet smile", for your comfort, bestie) @eleniblue@twhxhck@lokisgoodgirl@lovelysizzlingbluebird@raqnarokr@holymultiplefandomsbatman@michelleleewise@wolfsmom1@cheekyscamp@mochie85@muddyorbsblr

 It wasn’t the actual week of finals. Oh no, you knew how the drill would go. It was the month or week before. It would be assigned. Every last essay thrown on top of you. And with professors without a touch of reality for students.

“Who the hell has time to read and finish A Tale of Two Cities in two days?!” you thought as you shoved your unabridged copy of Dickens in your bag. Promising yourself to get through as much as you can and then read the Sparknotes summary in the morning. You weren’t immune to it.

Throughout your time in college, you had many a professor. Professors came in varieties. There were creative writing professors who ranged from tiny women who would assign short stories that made no sense to blonde men with glasses and toothy grins who loved it when their male classmates wrote exploitative abuse. Mythology professors with Greek accents and tans. Then there were the mixed bag of literature professors. 

The previous professor of the literature survey for Shakespeare also taught the American Literature Survey course. He was Dr. Rutledge. He wasn’t from this year, or even this reality. Either a wise old sage or a kooky scientist from the movie. He had long, thin grey hair, and wore bow ties with black glasses and thick tweed jackets. He smiled and would speak for hours in a tone half sarcastic, half serious. You knew he would go back home and cozy up with a whole copy of Moby Dick next to a fireplace as he sipped on tea or even scotch if he was feeling adventurous. When he brought up sex and seduction with the Scarlet Letter it was the equivalent of hearing a nun confess her last orgy. 

So when you registered this year for the Shakespeare course, that was the sight you were expecting.

Since the first day in walked someone different. He may have been wearing a suit, but he definitely was not Dr. Rutledge. 

Everyone was gossiping and chattering and sipping on their iced coffees when they fell silent. Every single back stood up straighter at the sight of him. Young, tall, virile. Long, curly reddish blonde hair. A goatee and glasses to show his maturity. Sharp suits that framed every inch of his lean but fit body. Eyes and cheekbones to die for. A jaw so straight it made the men taking the class question if they were.

No introduction of “hi, I’m-” No icebreaker games. He only stepped forward, to his podium. Held onto it, everyone leaned forward. He had all of you in the palm of his hand. Then, with his clear, bright baritone voice, he spoke-

“Now is the winter of our discontent made glorious summer by this sun of York…”

His voice…something about it. So…rich…Goddammit, he picked that one, the opening speech of Richard the Third. If he picked Romeo’s balcony declaration or something like that, you would be in even more danger of falling onto the floor in a horny heap of suppressed yearning. But no…it was Richard the Third’s monolgoue. Of all the characters he was playing, of all the characters in the Shakespeare canon you could thirst after, it was fucking Richard the Third. Definitely not known as a hunk or even a likable person according to canon. 

But the way he said it- threatening, villainous even. He leaned in and confessed his true feelings about the royal family and his plot to destroy them and rule over them. You could already feel something stirring inside you. And it was eight am in the morning. 

As he finished the monologue, speaking it so naturally it was as if it were his own words, the class burst into applause.

With a casual bow, brushing his curly blonde-red hair out of his face, he introduced himself.

“Hello class- good morning. I’m your professor- Professor Hiddleston, and I will make this as fun and engaging as a morning class on Shakespeare can be.”

From then on, you enjoyed the class. You tackled it on- after all, you wanted to have some fun. You loved Shakespeare. But Professor Thomas Hiddleston…was a bonus. Thank the lord he wore suits. And if not suits, white shirts with the sleeves rolled up. He might as well as taken it off for you. 

You went through various sonnets. Then explored the poetry- Aphrodite and Lucretia. Then the plays. Even plays that the undergrads thought the most dull he made intriguing. He made everything clear with Shakespeare’s life too himself- how the Bard lost a son named Hamlet. How Shakespeare was accustomed to the great courts and low brothels Prince Hal tasted both of. 

When theatres did productions or there was the odd movie adaptation in theatres, everyone went to go see it. Then he had a showing of lesser-known film adaptations. Showing how Orson Welles framed the shot of Falstaff to make the large knight seem even larger. The Bollywood Othello where at long, long last Emilia survived and she was the one to kill Iago, much to the class’s cheering.

“Are there any other movies we should watch?” he asked.

One kid shot up and suggested Shakespeare in Love. He raised an eyebrow.

“ It was not Shakespeare’s invention to have the lovers die. Romeo and Juliet was a a known story in Elizabethan era England and everyone knew back then that the lovers died. It’s like someone just suggesting that Superman comes from another planet- we all know he does. Not  because of him having an illicit affair as his poor wife was left to raise their surviving children far off and alone!”

“What about Anonymous!?” cried one kid, trying to be cool.

He let out a deep, ragged sigh. 

“There is more than enough evidence to suggest Shakespeare wrote the plays. Every criticism says he can’t write it because he was uneducated. However, if you look, there are hysterical inaccuracies in his geography And no one questions the authorship of Maya Angelou because of her lack of formal education! Just because he was not a nobleman, does not mean he was not aware of things as you are! Every Anti-Stratfordian argument boils down to classicism.” 

It was the best class you took. Having him teach definitely helped. And he would invite people for coffee talks and of course, you would bolt to join. Yet you enjoyed it- seeing him so relaxed. Warm in his coat as everyone circled around to talk about plays they knew of but hadn’t read in this class.

“Well- all of us went through our high schools. We all read Romeo and Juliet- what do you think?” he questioned them one autumnal day. 

“They’re just brats! Ugh!” one guy snarled out.

That you couldn’t take. You set down your drink, glaring at him. 

“They’re not!” you cried out passionately.

Eyes turned forward to you. You wished youcould have slapped him, but you stopped.

“Well, Y/N…why do you think that? Why are they not brats?” the professor asked. 

“I think…the plays aren’t meant to be realistic. Of course, they fall in love immediately- so do Rosamund and Orlando but no one calls them brats! It’s not Romeo and Juliet who get everyone killed! It’s not their love that hurts anyone- it’s just the feud and Paris l thinking he is entitled to Juliet’s body after her supposed death! No one knows about them- only they, the nurse, and the priest know about it! They’re innocent! Juliet calls Romeo her ‘friend!” Her one and only friend! That’s how alone she is without him! They are just innocent victims of a greater scheme. Hamlet and Othello fall prey to their own flaws- but Romeo and Juliet are just two young kids caught in the crossfire!”

You didn’t realize how passionate you were. You felt your face get hot with embarrassment as the class gaped at you. But the Professor was nodding his head. He gave you a small smile as you sat down.

“That was…very good. Next time, use the text and a few sources, and you have yourself a good essay, Y/N,” Professor Hiddleston said.

You liked how he challenged you. He would only want you to do better. He wouldn’t blow smoke up your ass, but he would support you. You would ask after each other. He told you a bit about his life- about how much there was to grade. How he got the job. Little things- but little things only added up to how much you liked him. Even…even…no, you couldn’t you would never say it aloud. But your bedtime fantasies…you were more than mere friends…but that was only for fantasies. 

You tried to let those regular Shakespeare classes comfort you. But finals were taking a toll on your sleep, and your health. You were so wound up and stressed, trying to read and perfect essays that you had trouble going to bed. Your brain kept churning- unable to think of anything else but your work. You couldn’t realx- you worked so hard to get into this school, this degree. If you didn’t pass then…you would be a failure and all that work to go to this school would be for nothing. 

At least after a sleepless night, you had something to look forward to- to distract yourself. But even lately in those classes, you curled into yourself. The heaviness of your exhaustion and the jolt of your anxiety over finals in an unending cycle of misery. You were so…tired…and done…and drained…you knew it would pass with time…

After class, as everyone filed out, Professor Hiddleston walked over to where you slowly gathered your things. He held out a hand to you.

“What is it, Y/N? You’re usually smiling and happy here. But you seem very grave lately…has something happened?”

You shook your head.

“Not really just…finals…I want to do well. I can’t get C’s- I want to do them perfectly! I want to! I want this degree! Now I…I’m so scared of failing…I wanted this school so much, now I…I…” you began to mutter.

You felt tears wriggling out of your eyes, and your breath shook as you uselessly tried to hold them back. He handed you tissues from his coat pocket. You felt like a trashbag- crying in front of this fucking Greek God. But he looked at you kindly. You wiped your eyes. Snot threatened to release from crying and you blew your nose. Ugh, he would think you were especially gross after that. But his gentle smile did not change. You wrapped up the tissues and tossed them aside- then he handed you the little plastic package.

“Is it mansplaining if I give you some advice?” he asked.

“Oh, no…it’s not…” you said. 

“Break your studies apart, Y/N. Ten little minutes at a time. A break. Then ten more. If you take time to focus, it will help you. Or if you make it fun and play music or make little drawings, then you have a picture as well…I know it means a lot…but if you rest, you will recover…and you must think smart, not hard,” he advised.

“Okay…” you nodded.

“Y/N, there are counselors here…they will help you and you don’t have to pay anything. They; 've helped me, and so many others, they should help you…” he suggested. He got out pamphlets from a corner of his desk to give to you. 

“I’ll see one…Why are you so kind to me?” you asked impulsively, looking up.

He put his hands in his pockets, glancing down, and then back up.

“If I may be frank, you remind me so much of myself when I was a student. I had a thesis I had to write on Shakespeare’s problem plays…and it consumed me. I wish someone had given me that advice at that time-I only want you to suffer a little less. Don’t be so hard on yourself- like I was on me…”

You nodded up at him, adjusting the straps of your bag and gathering your things in your arms. 

 “And I’ll..I’ll make it fun- I’ll think of a reward for after…” you said.

He placed his hands in front of him, his lips tightening, and then in a rushed exhale, he spoke. 

“Y/N…how would you…you…you like dinner? After finals?”

You perked your head up. Was this real? You blinked at him, saying nothing.

“Y/N…make me a bet…Go to counseling, break apart your studying, get through your finals, and do as well as you can…and I will take you out to dinner, how does that sound?” he asked.

You smiled at him, your heart beating fast. But yet…you were touched. You put a hand over your chest and released an exhale.

“Professor that…that sounds wonderful…” you answered.

“Ah, excellent. Now- is that a deal?” he asked with a tilt of his head.

You gave him a smile and a small laugh.

“It’s a deal,” you replied.

You managed to get a counseling session scheduled for tomorrow. You went inside, sat, met the kind therapist, and smiled as you vented and cried out your feelings. When you went back to where you lived and spent your emotions, you crashed onto the bed. It was the best nap you had ever taken. 

You followed his advice. You broke down studying or writing essays and researching. You took more breaks. You had made flashcards with doodles for the tests and were catching on quickly. Your research was more fruitful and your essays were getting better in your eyes. You found you slept a bit better at night.

Each day as you sat in at 8 am, the Professor would smile at you and nod. You felt more like yourself again despite the looming deadlines. And they didn’t seem like a matter of life or death anymore. 

Everyone knows the week before finals are hell. To study and work so much with no time off from usual classes. But… you would still miss that 8 a.m. Shakespeare survey- and the handsome professor in his suits.

“Y/N, don’t be scared- you will be phenomenal,”  He gave you a wink that turned you into jelly.

Damn him. To think you would have dinner with him. You turned around to peek at him erasing the markerboard and glimpsing his curved bum,  how his hair curled at the back, and his broad back.

Yeah, now that was motivation to do well.

You studied and wrote with enthusiasm. You completed it all in due time. The essays were to your satisfaction.  When you settled at night, you cuddled his pillow. Remembering his smell- be it his shampoo or cologne, the mild, citrus scent. Fantasizing about him. Of dancing slowly at a formal event with you in an evening gown. Feeling his hand on your back and his head lowering down to touch your forehead. Of sharing ice cream. Being a damsel in distress for him to rescue. Then you thought of his body…. And the images changed to something naughtier. Wearing short skirts and showing up to his class. And him noticing. And lifting it up…

You conked right to sleep.

Finals week began. The entire campus knew it was stressful and went ridiculously out of their way to cheer up the students. But it was a lot of fun, you had to admit. Having dogs on campus to pet. Discounts on coffee. That Monday morning the cafeteria was packed with the free breakfast they offered. Once you brave the long lines for free food, you headed out to your first final. 

Professors, to your amusement, dotted around the campus. If they didn’t have a class to be in, they were handing little care packages while dressed in silly costumes. The sight amused you and made you smile.

Then walking up, you turned to the right and jumped at the sight with a happy, surprised gasp that became laughter. Professor Hiddleston himself wore a light, frilly tutu made for girls a quarter of his age over his pants, little costume fairy wings over his shirt,  and had a headband with little stars on top like ears. 

He turned towards you and his face turned bright pink. 

“Professor Hiddleston! What is this?!” you asked.

He opened up his arms to present his silly costume.

“We’re doing our anti-stress events! I am here to provide you with help with your stress!” he announced theatrically.

You put your hands akimbo and surveyed his costume up and down. If the class knew, they would lose it.

“And you’re doing it?!” you asked.

“Why not! I’m not a stick in the mud all the time! I can have fun!”

You laughed again.

“I should take a picture and send you to the group chat of our class!”

“I don’t see why not!”

He posed as you took a picture. 

“And how are you feeling?”

“I feel better! Much better now- I feel like I’m ready…”

“Good! It will be done soon! A bit at a time!”

He handed over a stress-free care package. Exchanging smiles, you continued by with a lighter step in your shoes. 

You went to every test outside of the pre-written essay. You knew what to do as you wrote short essays for the tests. You didn’t completely panic and wrote them as well as you could. When it came to every exam,  you felt you knew and understood the material. The week flew by. 

Sure enough, on that Friday, with shaking hands and a turning stomach, you looked up your grades. Taking in a breath right when the clock hit noon, you tapped a shaking finger on the mouse.  The link buffered on your computer to view them. Then it lit up with revelation. 

You passed them. You passed them all. In fact, you did very well. 

Your heart was racing but—you realized…you didn’t have his number. Only his email address. With the still nervous feeling…you emailed him, your professor.

“Hello Professor,

My grades were announced- and they’re all spectacular. I passed all of them. So…you made that promise…are you available for dinner?”

You sent it off. You could only ruminate for five minutes- his response was quick. 

“Of course, dear Y/N…

Here’s my number below… Meet me in my office. The parking lot isn’t far from it.”

You managed to text him immediately. You were giggling and pacing your room like a high schooler as your phone buzzed with his responses.  You re-read them as you paced about with your phone in your face. The high of your crush floating you into the clouds. You were going to go to a nice restaurant- one wasn’t finalized yet, but something nice. And that meant you had to look the part!

You were so excited. You made sure your makeup was how you liked and that your hair looked clean. You put on a part dress-one with a shorter skirt. It was too perfect not to. It was cut only a little low to show some mild cleavage. The collar was wide enough so that it showed your collarbones. It was nice, but flirtatious and romantic. It hugged you in a perfect fit while making you feel amazing and sexy. 

Sure enough, you went over to his office. The place was abandoned. All offices and buildings on the Friday of the Finals are in the early evening. You walked over and knocked on the door.

He opened the door and your heart almost stopped.

He was lovely. In his suit. His curls and that slutty goatee combed. Smelling fresh and clean. He still was in his blue suit- bringing out the blue in his eyes. Loving, beautiful.

“Ah, Y/N- please, come in,” he welcomed.

You followed suit. He closed the door. There was a second where you just looked at each other. Despite his goatee, you saw him biting his lip.

“Now, how about that dinner, Y/N…” he offered. “There’s La Gardeniera-suitable. A nice place for a special occasion as this…”

You gave him a shrug.

“I don’t care…anywhere…” you replied. 

“Anywhere? ” he asked.

He put his hands in his pocket and looked at you. It was a simple office- white and brown as many are. There was a bright window, the blinds turned over, as the setting sun’s rays fell over it. There was a small bust of Shakespeare and a pitcher with cups of water. His desk had a neat stack of papers, and annotated books all over it. Cozy and comfortable- like how he made you. 

“I just…I want to be with you…I don’t mind. Take me to a McDonalds and I won’t care…” you went on.

“Y/N…I…me?” he asked.

“Yes, you! We don’t even have to eat or…to, uh…I just…” the words were failing you and you felt your heart pick up. You looked down at the floors and then back up at him. 

“You want to…to be with me…” he walked forward curiously. But you did not retreat. Did not back away. You only met him in his blue eyes, welcoming him.

“Y/N…are you sure?” he asked.

He took a step closer. He was right before you. And you did not retreat. You met his gaze. So close. The tension between you.

“Professor Hiddleston, I am sure…I just want to be with you…anywhere…you just…make me happy…” you finally confessed.

“You make me happy too…” he murmured

He leaned forward, seeking permission. You gave a shaky nod. 

Then he kissed you.

 Something in you released. So long it was boxed up- now wild and free.  He immediately took his hands and ran them up and down you and you held onto him in the kiss. Feeling him as he deepened it with the wet sound of lips. Grabbing onto each other, releasing what had been held for so long. He released and then kissed you-again, then again. Like he was drowning and you were air. 

“Mphm- what-what were the grades?” he asked before kissing again.

You caught your breath and took a break still close to his lips. 

“Passed them. Flying colors,” you reported.

 He kissed you again, moaning into it. Then he broke it again.

“Well now…my little student…doing so well…” he rasped.

You grabbed him and heart racing you felt him kiss you. His facial hair scratched against you. He kissed you back. He backed you up.

“You’ve been…good…” he breathed, pressing you there into it. You wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders. 

“Mphm- this feels…feels so nice…you’re a good kisser,” you whispered.

“I’m good at more than just kissing, my dear-”

He held you, pulling you close. He backed you to the door-holding you against him. He then reached a hand and turned over the lock. It was sealed with a click. His hands then returned to you. He cupped your cheeks, then it slid down your neck, and your chest, and then settled on your wasit. 

“I’ve…I’ve…God, I’ve wanted you so much…I…I don’t know if I…think I can…hold back…my dear, I-I-if you’re not…not ready, I’ll-”

“I don’t want to leave yet- let’s wait for dinner-take me. Fuck me here, now,” you begged. 

You didn’t need to say any more than that.  ou shuddered. He found your skirt and touched your leg, lifting it up. Feeling your skin, cold from exposure.

“All this…is all for me now…”

His hand reached over your leg. His long fingers possessively gripped each bit of flesh. Enjoying it- feeling you for the first time. Treasuring you and making his mark- you were his and his alone. He wrapped an arm around you and lifted you up onto that door. You let out a sound He then took your leg and guided it to wrap around his waist, holding onto him. You were so dripping wet you could feel his pants brushing your soaked panties. He held you easily-so, so easily. Just muscle and wall holding you and keeping you in place. He managed to lift you up- keeping you up with how pressed he was to you. How warm. Keeping him on you.

Your lips crashed again. You kept touching him. One hand finally touching his hair- his beautiful, long curls. The other kissing into him. In his suit, he began to ground against you now that you had nowhere to go away- not that you would leave. He kissed you with tongue and fire. You wrapped your arms around him and kissed him back, wet noises and messy, desperate need.

“Tom…Tom, I-” you murmured.

He touched your chin, shushing you.

“We’re still in my office, my dear. And you will call me Professor,” he said.

He reached a hand down- feeling hte seat of your soaked panties. Smiling from teh effect already.

“Yes…yes, I will…” you breathed out. 

“Now- my little angel. She did so well…and she comes to me, so needy…so desperate-first for her finals and now for my cock-”

You held onto him, touching his tie. Pulling him up. You felt his erection stretching through his pants. The hooded eyes and soft voice, his hot breath. You gave him a smile- eager to have him. 

“I’m going to rip your clothes off and fuck you senselessly- and I want you- I never heard a thank you- I want to hear your gratitude for how I take care of you in every way…how does that sound? Too much for you?”

“It sounds wonderful for me-Professor,” you purred in response.

He wrapped an arm to help you up and carried you- legs around his waist.

. He then backed you over to his desk. He kept one by you- so close, so close. He took a hand and shoved aside the books and papers. It didn’t matter- now there was you. 

He pulled up your skirt. Desperately trying to find the zipper. Almost shaking in his long fingers. His erection seeping through his pants- he was so pent up.

“All that time. Wanting you. Feeling you near. Do you know how many nights I had to jerk off to imagine this- you! Seeing you- feeling you right there- my little beauty, angel, and siren at once.”

He shoved your dress off and down. Now in your bra and underwear. His hands went to under your straps- feeling them already- his bare flesh on your bare flesh. You were backed there.

“Thank you.”

“Thank you what?” he asked darkly.

“Th-thank you, Professor.”

He kissed you again. You were his little pet, his toy, his plaything. And you would please him- You held onto his shoulders. Grinding more into his body, He was still. Yet you heard his breaths, catching in his chest. He still remained clothed. 

Then in a rush, he gripped your bra.

“You won't need these- not with me.”

With a strength that made you gasp, He ripped your bra in half. He breasted so fast, panting like a beast. Looking down at your breasts.  Both large hands fondled them, moving them around. 

“Th-Thank you, Professor,” you whispered.

“But there’s one thing- one thing keeping me- from what I need” he growled.

He reached down, and in a second, he ripped your panties apart again in half. You gasped at the feeling. The cloth in two- uselessly falling apart.

“No bra- no panties when I see you -easier access- do you understand…I have a need for you, do you get it-”

“Yes- yes, sir.”

“Close- but not it. You forgot. And you’ll be punished.”

He turned you around, so your bare ass was shown. He immediately spanked you hard- it clapped around you. You let out a shout.

“It’s thank you-Professor.”

“Thank you Professor!” you cried out, feeling the sting. 

“And you will get it right!”

He spanked you again, harder. The momentum made you move against the desk, feeling your ass move with it. And feeling his greedy eyes all over your exposed skin.

“Th-Thank you, Professor!” you cried.

He pulled you back up but kept your back to his chest. He kissed your cheek, fondling you from behind, whispering in your ear.  

“If you don’t want another punishment-Tell me what I am-”

“You-you’re my-my-”

The words failed you. He leaned you down again and spanked you.

“You’re my professor!”

He spanked you again.

“Say it again- and say thank you-”

“Yes- yes- thank you, Professor…”

He grazed over you. Feeling you. You were catching your breath. Dripping so hard. He put his hands against your inner legs. 

“The more I do this- the more I see you, the more I’m with you, the more you- you torture me. I can’t stand it- I-I have to have you, Y/N- I have to, I have to-do you- do you want-”

You lightly turned your head over to see him and could have gasped. 

He unzipped his pants and lowered them. Already his cock was large and twitching. It leaked so much, that his precum made you shiver. It drizzled down and made a path down his leg. You clutched onto the desk, smiling and bracing yourself. 

“Yes- take me- take me on your desk, Professor…”

He smiled, and then his hand made you bend over it again. ‘

“Spread. Your. Legs.”

You were such a horny querying mess, he touched your legs so that they spread for him. Then finally, you felt him at your entrance, and inside. 

You let out a long groan- and so did he. As he got in - inch by inch. 

“Yes- yes all-ah!” you cried out as he got all of himself in you. 

He eased you in at first. Your legs again over. He gave a few gentle, experimental thrusts. It was slow, even sloppy. Each intrusion, poking you inside. You were making an appreciative groan. You ground your hips further against him. The room was hot and smelled thick with sex.

“There…you can take…take all your professor's cock, can you?” he growled.

“Yes-yes I can..”

He then made a sharp thrust inside and you cried out.

“Oh!”

He then experimented- hips rolling towards your ass. You let out sounds like you never heard yourself make. He then had a hand to keep you down. To keep you down And then he began to pick up. Slamming into you. Keeping you still, close, on him. 

“Nrg-nrgh- yes-there-fuck-there’s my-myfuck- good litlte student-nrgh-want to please me- hrng-begging-begging to-shit-yes-yes-darling-begging for me-”

You were moaning into it. Your body shakes forward and back from his thrusts. You felt yourself spiraling. Then he slowed. He leaned down and whispered into your ear. The pleasure was at a standstill, you caught your breath as you heard his hot voice right beside you.

“You have another order- cum only when I’m about to-cum when I tell you- yes?” he demanded

“Yes!”

“Yes, are you grateful!” He moved his hands to feel your arms. 

“I am- th-tahnk you, Pr-Professor.”

He went back up and began to thrust again. Slow- then medium. You let out those pornographic sounds out as he did.

“Fuck- what you do to me, darling,” he breathed out. 

He let out another gasp, his voice itching up in a groan and then back down. Then he slammed into you, letting out a loud voice. 

“Who is going to let you cum?  Who lets you cum when you’re a good girl?” he rasped. 

“My-my- fuck-professor will- will let me-cum-yes!

“Not yet- not yet-mine is-if-fuck, it’s building.-”

He spread your legs wide and entered you. Then he grabbed your hips. He began to pound into you. The desk shaking- the wall quivering. Slamming against that wall with a thud-thud-thud-thud-thud-thud. He whimpered your name. You clung onto it, your knuckles popping out of you.

“Yes-Yes you are-beautiful little student- you are-g-grateful- fuck.-tight-so tight- shit-”

He was so deep, just rutting into you. He was an animal. Pure fucking you into the desk You felt the itch of his suit- the deepness of it. The papers scrambling away- scratching you. The pure ecstasy of it.

“And” thrust “tell me-” thrust “tell me this”- thrust “darling-”

He laced a hand, it reached your folds. You let out a whimper. He dug around- two fingers in-already feeling you. God- you weren’t going to last. He wasn’t going to like it, but you weren’t going to last. You let out a whimper as you felt him inside you.

“What” thrust “ is it” thrust”- “what is it- good” thrust “good girls do- ”thrust

“They-they-they get to-to-to come, Professor-”

“Yes! Yes-you're at my-my limit-gods-gods- what you do to me-You’ve been good-so good- I can’t-I can’t-so cum, darling-”

He strummed you. And you let out another intense gasp. He was strumming you. His fingers making you more open, his cock in, out, in out. You felt it build- he played with your clit so much. Trying the right place, You felt it rise, but not there. And he kept thrusting. A frustration in his rasp.

“Yes- dammit- why won’t you now? Why won’t-won’t you cum?! Cum, dammit- cum- darling- fuck, fuck- god- yes, gods, I’m there…I’m getting there, cum, dammit- why won’t you cum…”

With a new fury, he pounded against you into the desk- the filthiest, most intense thing you felt. The pleasure building up you, going up, up about to be out of control. 

“I’m- I’m going to-I’m going to-I’m going to cum, professor I-I-I”

It would spiral up, yes, but you had yet to reach it. You ground your hips further, moving from his thrusts, as his fingers were there- finding you at the still of your high and just needing your brink.

“Yes- God, yes-cum, darling-I order you, your professor orders you-Yes- yes, cum, girl, dammit- do it, cum, darling- fuck, I’m about to- do it- CUM!” he deamnded like a yell.

With a last shout you cried- “PROFESSOR!” and you came.

Spiraling down from the pleasure. It broke into chills over you-your voice left you and yet your heart was racing. You could feel him gushing into you and yet you could also feel the cum from your own body between your legs, on his fingers.  He panted. He then moved you over. You saw his hair wild and arrayed. You moved it out of his face.

He looked at you with a sweet smile then took your hand and kissed it. He sat you down on a chair and took off his jacket- putting it over you like a cape. Then he went over and got you a glass of water from the pitcher. 

His voice had softened, he kept touching your face, checking for any accidental bruises or marks.

 “How are you? Are you…are you alright, Y/N? I didn’t go too…too-”

“You were perfect- it was perfect,” you replied with a smile. The water wasn’t super cold- but it was fresh. 

He let out a sigh of relief. He then cupped your cheek. 

“You should see yourself how I see you. You’re glowing. Absolutely glowing-I had only hoped you were…were happy with it…”

He looked down at the ruined bra and panties.

“I’ll buy you another…” he muttered in apology.

“Oh- an orgasm and dinner and new bra and panties? You spoil me rotten already!” you teased.

He gave you a kiss on the forehead and then he helped you back to dressing. 

“Here-we could…go back to my place and order something. At this rate, it might get late. I’m not that good of a cook-I was hoping a restaurant would impress you. I hope you don’t mind…”

“How could I, Professor?” you added, taking your hand in his. 

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