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soaps-mohawk · 1 month

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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 15: Bonnie

Summary: Your heat is over and your pack has moved on with their lives, settling back into the familiar routine. Except, some things have begun to change, and you're not entirely sure if its for the better.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 7456 words

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, oral, handjobs, overstimulation, P in V sex, unprotected sex, creampie, hair pulling, switch Johnny, Johnny's lingerie kink, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, language, mention of nightmares, brief talk about killing and violence, insomnia, fluff, and of course a bit of angst

A/N: This chapter was an absolute bitch to write. I'm not kidding this was a nightmare. I'm happy with the changes I've made though, and how things are progressing. We've made a little bit of a time jump here, but not much. I think I'm getting sick so, posting the chapter before I inevitably pass out again. Oh, and Happy Easter everyone that celebrates.

Want early access to chapters, as well as other bonus content? Consider supporting me on Patreon.

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Your eyes fly open as the alarm blares. They burn as you squint against the bright phone light. An arm reaches over you, the warm skin sliding against your back as he fumbles to turn off the offending noise.

You let out a quiet groan as you catch the numbers dictating the time on the screen before the phone is placed back on the nightstand. “‘S too early.” You grumble, rubbing at your crusty eyes.

“Go back to sleep.” John murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder before he shifts, climbing over you to get out of the bed. He tucks the blankets back around you before slipping into the bathroom.

You won't go back to sleep. The last time you'd glanced at the time on your phone had been two hours ago, at 2 A.M. You’ve been awake most of the night, as you have been the last couple nights. You haven't been sleeping well. It was like your heat opened a floodgate and now every time you close your eyes, you're transported back into the past, back when you were a child. Back when things weren't fine.

You've started trying to avoid sleep, waking constantly during the night from nightmares or from your brain’s own fear of them starting back up. It’s only been a week since your heat ended, and yet you feel no more rested than you did coming out of it. Nothing you’ve tried has worked, not even staying awake until you inevitably pass out prevents your subconscious mind from pulling up the horrible memories of your past.

Even sleeping next to your alpha hasn’t provided any comfort for your mind. His presence isn’t enough to quell the fear in your mind that the nightmares might come back, that the memories might surface.

Even he can’t protect you from this.

You close your eyes as the bathroom door opens again, pretending to sleep as John dresses for his morning workout. He’s quiet, near silent as he moves about the room. It’s almost terrifying how quiet they can be. Though, you suppose, if your survival depends on it, it’s a skill you’d spend plenty of time honing.

John grabs his phone from the nightstand, running a gentle hand over your head before he leaves the room, closing the door quietly behind him. You lay there for a few minutes, trying not to let the guilt eat you alive. You should tell them you’re struggling to sleep, that your mind is plaguing you with memories from your past, but you’re afraid of what they might think of you. You’re not the perfect omega, you’re not as whole as you might seem.

You’re held together with duct tape on the inside. They already have enough to worry about now, they don’t need the weight of your misery thrown on top of the loads they all carry.

You let out a long breath, turning over in John’s bed. You press your face into the pillow, inhaling the imprint of his scent on the fabric. It’s still warm where he was laying, and you shuffle over into that spot, letting your body go lax as you imagine him still there with you, arms still wrapped around your body. You want to bury yourself in his arms, press against his chest until you sink into him and become one.

Only then, perhaps you can feel safe enough to sleep.

You press your face further into the pillow, every inhale filled with John’s scent. It lulls you into a daze, the hypnagogic stage between sleep and wakefulness.

You jolt as a hand touches your arm, calluses smoothing over the bare skin. You blink your eyes open, letting out a quiet groan. It’s light outside now, the room bathed in white light instead of the yellow tinge of the nightlight John had bought for his room for you.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” John says, gently squeezing your arm. He’s already dressed for the day, hair still damp from the shower. You hadn’t even noticed he’d returned.

You roll over, rubbing your eyes. “‘S fine. Didn’t even know I was asleep. Breakfast time?”

John hums, leaning over you. “Almost. You’ve got time to get ready.”

You blink up at him blearily, your mind still trying to wake up completely after your short nap. You stare up into his eyes, getting lost in their blue depths. You feel like you could swim in them, his deep earthy scent drawing forward memories of camping and swimming in the lake. Memories you could pretend were happy, memories not tainted by fear and grief.

“Christ,” He breathes, pressing his lips to yours. “So fucking beautiful.”

Your cheeks warm at his words, your lips moving against his as you kiss. You trail a hand up his arm, sliding it to his back. His shirt is soft, thin enough that you can feel the muscles in his back as you smooth your hand across his shoulder blades.

“Wish I could stay here all day.” He murmurs, his face pressing into your throat. You tilt your head for him, a quiet groan rumbling through his chest at your sign of submission. He sighs, pressing his nose against your scent gland for a moment before he straightens back up. “Got a job to do.”

You let out a groan as you stretch, arching your back. “Fuck your job.”

“I’d much rather be fucking you.” He says, leaning down to nip at your bottom lip before he stands up, grabbing the shirt you’d worn to slip into his room last night off the floor. It’s one of his, one you’d stolen from his laundry hamper while he was in the shower. “Don’t let anyone hear you say that.”

You grin, pushing the sheets down before sitting up on the edge of the bed. You rub your eyes tiredly, stretching again before pulling on his shirt, slipping your slippers on. You pad back to your room, changing into more appropriate clothes for breakfast. You’ll be left to your own devices again afterward as the guys return to their normal training schedule. You won’t be napping this time, though, you fear. Instead you’ll be looking for ways to keep yourself awake.

You and John walk hand in hand to the mess. It’s been a while since you’ve been inside of it, and you find you’ve grown to miss it a bit. You don’t miss the stares, the looks that pass over you and your entwined hands as John leads you to the line to get food. It’s like they know, like they all somehow witnessed what had transpired over the last couple weeks, like they had all been spectators to it.

John makes your tray for you again, carrying it to the table where the others are already seated. You take your normal spot next to Kyle, both him and John sitting closer to you than before. Perhaps they were picking up on your nervous energy, but even Johnny and Ghost seemed to be sitting closer. You cast a glance between them before digging into your tray. Something had transpired, but you’re not quite sure what.

You might never get to know.

It’s quiet as you eat, the coffee bitter and watery, but you don’t care. You’ll suffer anything that might give you a boost of energy to make it to lunch without falling asleep.

Johnny walks you back to the barracks after breakfast is over, his arm around your waist as you take your time crossing the courtyard. He’s oddly quiet compared to how energetic he usually is this early in the morning. Something must have happened to make him silent.

“Johnny?” You ask after a group of soldiers jog past behind you.

He hums, looking down at you. His eyes are still bright, but his brows are slightly furrowed.

“Is everything alright?” You ask carefully, not wanting to risk pushing any buttons.

“Aye.” He answers after letting out a sigh. “Jus’ an incident in the gym this mornin’. Nothing ye need tae worry about.”

You raise your brows at him, silently conveying your desire for more information, if he can give you any.

“Just some alphas talkin’ shite, like they do. Callin’ ye the 141’s whore. Askin’ if we all take turns or if ye let us all go at once.” He says, his tone practically seething as he leads you into the barracks. “Simon reminded them of their place.”

You can only imagine how that went.

Despite their obvious tension at the jabs made at you by the other alphas, you don't feel as angry as you probably should. Being called a whore was a bit demeaning, but part of what was said wasn't entirely wrong. Perhaps it's just some leftover hormones surging from your heat, or maybe being claimed has shifted your feelings towards your packmates, but the idea of being shared by them has warmth spreading through you. The mental images piecing together in your mind of taking them all at once would probably make the alphas that made that jab at you blush furiously.

“Johnny?” You ask, turning to him when you reach your door.

“Aye?” He stares down at you, his blue eyes soft as they gaze down into your own.

“I, uh, I wouldn’t mind if at least part of what they said was true...” You sink your teeth into your lip. “You...uh...you’ve been waiting for a while...for your turn.”

He gulps, shifting slightly on his feet. You can’t tell if he’s nervous or excited or something in between.

“Well, I’ve been officially cleared to partake in more...strenuous activities..”

“Christ.” He breathes, crowding you against the door. For a moment you’re worried he might just do it right here, right now, but instead he leans in, close enough you can smell the coffee he had with his breakfast. “I’d love that, kitten.” He bites his own lip as he stares down at yours. “Let me know, and I’ll be ready for you.” He leans down, closing the short distance between you as he kisses you.

You lean into him, kissing him back. It feels like the first time you kissed him, except you can feel the hunger, the restraint behind this kiss. You can feel how much he’s been holding back, how long he’s waited to finally have this moment. To think of anyone desiring you in such a way makes your head spin. He wants you for you, not what you can do for him, not what you can give to him. Not even just for what’s between your legs, even if that’s what you’re going to do.

He wants to be with you because you’re you. He doesn’t have to, he could choose not to, but he does.

He pulls away, staring down at you. His eyes are darker now, speaking promises of what’s to come. “When you’re ready, I’ll be waiting.”

“You're tired.”

You blink, your gaze snapping to his face. You had been drifting thoughtlessly, quite enamored with a single spot on the floor. You're not sure how long he let you stand there, empty-headed and practically dozing upright.

You rub your eyes, trying to force your brain back to awareness. “It's early.” You give the excuse, toeing off your shoes. “Been a while since we've done this.”

“You're going to have to work extra hard to gain it all back.” Ghost says, pulling off his sweatshirt.

Your eyes are immediately drawn to his arms, the strength in them, the tattoos on his skin. You bite back the desire to move closer, to get just a glimpse at one close up. You want to sit and trace them, hear the story of every single one. You want to push his sleeve up, watch the way his muscles bulge and flex, see how far his tattoo goes up his arm.

You snap yourself out of your thoughts, moving onto the mat before you do something embarrassing like starting to drool. You watch him as he stands at the edge of the mat, brown eyes taking you in as you stand there. Something tickles in the back of your mind, a hint of fear, the sense of sudden danger prevalent. What would you do if he suddenly ran at you? Try to dodge and make it to the door? Where would you go? The med center again?

“Easy.” He grumbles, sensing your obvious tension.

Your gaze snaps back to him, his posture relaxed as he stays still. “I'm putting a lot of trust in you.”

“I know.” He says, standing almost as still as a statue. You wonder how he can possibly be so still, but you suppose it's something he learned to do. “I should never have broken that trust in the first place.”

Your eyes widen, brows lifting as you stare at him. You didn't expect such a straightforward apology from him. You haven't really gotten one, until now. You hesitate as you stand there in silence, Ghost obviously waiting for your response.

“I don't know if I can forgive you.” You finally say.

“You shouldn't.” He shrugs, his gaze shifting to the wall behind you. “Even if you weren't really in danger, it was still a dick move.”

Your eyebrows raise even higher. “An apology and admitting you were a dick? Should I be worried?”

He huffs out a breath, shaking his head. “Consider it an offering of amicability, for Johnny. I know you two are getting close, so inevitably we're going to find ourselves around each other more often than we have previously.”

“Well, I suppose I could accept that.” You say, shifting on your feet. “I don't think you could convince Johnny otherwise.”

“Hardly. He wouldn't listen anyway.” He finally moves, shifting on his feet. “You gonna put your hackles down so I can approach?”

You take a deep breath, relaxing the tension in your body. You don't really have a reason to fear him, despite what he did. He hasn't given you a reason to fear him since then, and he's even gone so far as to apologize in his own way. John wouldn't have allowed this to start again if he didn't trust Ghost not to do something that might put you in danger.

John trusts him, so you should be able to as well.

Ghost slowly approaches, your eyes watching him carefully until he's directly in front of you. You stare up at him, holding his gaze. You wish you could see the rest of his face on the off chance it might give you a hint at what he's thinking and feeling. You wonder if that's partially why he wears the mask.

Ghost holds out his hand and you place your own in his. It's so much bigger than yours, his long fingers engulfing your wrist as he wraps your hand. You could probably do it yourself by this point, but you like making him do it. You like the way his hands hold yours, the roughness of his skin against your own.

He starts out reviewing things you already know. Punches, kicks, dodging. It doesn't take long for you to get back into the groove of things, moving like it hasn't been nearly a month since your last training session. You notice the fatigue faster than you had during your last session, but you expected that after almost a month, paired with your heat two weeks ago.

“Now, punching and kicking will only get you so far in a fight.” He says, giving you a moment to breathe. “Almost all fights are going to end up on the ground. Even if your goal is disarming enough to escape, the chances of you and your opponent ending up on the ground is highly likely.”

He swipes your feet out from under you before you can even blink, nearly knocking the wind from you as you land on the mat on your back. He’s on you quickly, dropping to his hands and knees over you. Your breath catches in your throat as you stare at him above you, his hulking form seeming even larger from this angle. Your mind begins to run wild, imagining all the things that could happen in this position.

“Focus.” He grumbles, arms flexing as he presses his hands into the mat where they rest on either side of your head. “You don’t want to be in this position in a fight. You’re too vulnerable.”

A shiver runs down your spine at his words. You are vulnerable like this. Even with him, someone who doesn’t want to hurt you, it would be so easy. Your head begins to turn, your gaze leaving his as instinct begins to take over.

“No.” He snaps, gripping your chin to turn your head back so he’s looking in your eyes. “You do that in a fight, you’re not going to see the other side.”

You gulp, trying to ignore the warmth of his fingers on your face, the firmness of his grip as he keeps you from showing submission to him. That’s not why you’re here. He’s right. If you do that in a fight, it’ll be over before you even have a chance to run.

“Your legs are far stronger than your arms. Use them to your advantage.” He says, showing you how to get him into the right position to flip him.

You know he’s helping you as you flip him onto his back. If he really was fighting you, you’re not sure you could have done it, even if you managed to land enough of a hit to disarm him. You wind up on top of him, sitting on his stomach. The position doesn’t help your racing thoughts, and you pray you can keep enough control over yourself so you don’t make it obvious.

“Use your legs to pin my hands.” He directs you. You shift your knees slightly, trapping his hands against the mat. “Good.” He says, laying still under you. “You can’t hold a bigger opponent down here for long, but that’s not the point. This gives you a moment of opportunity to go for the face or the neck. Stun them and that gives you a headstart. If you have a weapon available, then you have one less person to worry about chasing you.”

You gulp at his words. It hadn’t even crossed your mind during your training. He had said it so simply, so easily. You suppose it is to him, after years of doing it, after countless moments where it’s his life or theirs. Is that what he tells himself? Is that how he rationalizes it? Is there so much blood on his hands now that killing is as easy as breathing?

You wonder how they all rationalize it. They all have blood on their hands, they all have killed, and will kill again. Every time they leave and come back, it’s with more blood, more nameless faces on the list of lives they've taken, all in the name of the greater good.

Is violence and death really the path to the greater good?

“What?” He asks, sensing your inner turmoil.

You sit back on his stomach, your body rising and falling with his even breaths. “I don’t know if I could do it.”

He tugs his hands from beneath your knees easily, resting them on the mat next to your legs. You can feel his fingers twitch as the blood rushes back into them. “You might not have much of a choice.” He says, holding your gaze. There’s a softness in his gaze you have never seen before. “Sometimes it’s the only choice. If they’re attacking you, they’re better off dead. Even if their goal is to take you alive, the things they’ll do to you.” He shakes his head.

He’s speaking from experience. You know he’s seen things, witnessed the brutality omegas are subjected to at the hands of the worst kinds of alphas and betas. He’s watched omegas die in front of him while he’s sat helpless.

His hand lifts, cupping the back of your head to pull you down closer to his face. You catch yourself with your hands on either side of his head, fighting the urge to tense your shoulders. His hand doesn’t move from the back of your head, his fingers not even twitching as he holds you steady.

“If they’re willing to do it to you, how many others have been on the receiving end? If you’re not willing to be the last, how many others will come after you?” He says, his gaze intense as he stares at you. “I hope you never have to, but you always have to prepare for the worst.”

He holds you there for a breath, staring up into your eyes before he releases you, flipping you off of him and onto your back on the mat. He pushes himself up to stand, staring down at you as you lay there, catching your breath and thinking over the last few moments that transpired.

“Come on. It’s almost time for breakfast.”

It’s quiet in the rec room. The TV is off for once, only the hum of electricity and the occasional turning of a page the only sound breaking the silence. You and Ghost are the only two in the rec room, both of you relaxing silently as you read. He’s in the chair as usual, and you’re stretched out on the couch.

You’re only halfway paying attention to your book, still thinking over your conversation with Johnny earlier, and what transpired in the gym during your training session yesterday. You know how much Johnny wants to be with you, and you're more than willing to go that far with him. You like Johnny, more than just as a packmate. It's hard not to fall for him with his confidence and his playful demeanor. You know he's been desperate to take things to the next level too.

All he's waiting on is you saying the word.

He will never force you into it. He'll impatiently wait for you to go to him, to tell him that you want it. All jokes and teasing aside, you know he'd never make you feel like you were being forced into something.

The thought makes you want to cry.

“Pull his hair.” Ghost’s voice cuts through the silence, nearly making you jump.

You lower your book so you can see him, eyebrows raising in surprise at his words. “What?”

“When you finally fuck Johnny, grab him by the mohawk. He likes it.” Ghost says, not even looking up from his own book.

You stare at him wide-eyed, wondering for a moment if he can read minds, or if you’re just not quite as subtle as you think you’re being.

“I'll, uh, keep that in mind.” You say, lifting your book again to hide your blushing face.

The room descends into silence once more, the two of you continuing to read as if nothing had happened, as if that conversation hadn’t transpired. You wish it felt that way in your mind, though. The mental images Ghost’s words have drawn up drowning out the words on the pages that you’re trying to read. You’re trying not to get worked up further, but you can’t help it. After your training session and the thoughts that had come to mind with Ghost, and now these new images of Johnny, you’re sure your scent has begun to sweeten with arousal.

You need to rectify this, and fast.

You knock on the door, shifting nervously on your feet. Your hands have disappeared in your sleeves, the weight of your phone in your pocket the only thing keeping you from floating to the ceiling and dissipating into the air from the anxiety.

Your stomach nearly drops from your body as the door swings open, Gaz standing there in his full glory.

“Everything alright?” He asks, staring down at you with those big brown eyes. “You look nervous.”

You swallow the nerves, nodding in response. “Yeah, I just...wanted to talk to you for a minute.”

He steps away from the door, brows still pinched in worry and confusion as he motions for you to enter. You brush past him as you step into his room, taking a look around. You haven't been in his room before. It's slightly smaller than yours and John's, and it doesn't have a private bathroom. There's artwork up on the walls, and a couple of plants on his desk, along with a few personal belongings. It's neat and tidy, not that you expected anything less.

“What did you want to talk about?” He asks, turning to face you after closing the door.

You take a deep breath, calming the nervous twist in your stomach. You shouldn’t be nervous. It’s a natural thing to bring up to packmates. You blame it on the fatigue from your lack of sleep putting you on edge.

“I wanted to ask you something.” You start, staring into his big brown eyes. They’re so beautiful, so expressive as they stare down at you. “Johnny and I...we’re going to...sleep together soon and...I just wanted to make sure that was okay? In case maybe you wanted to go first?”

Kyle’s lips slowly lift up into a smile as you stare at him nervously, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “He’s been an absolute tosser since before your heat, and he’d only become utterly unbearable if he didn’t get to go first.” He steps up closer to you, grinning down at you. “For the sake of everyone’s sanity, I don’t mind being patient. Besides,” He leans down, his breath fanning your ear. “I at least know what you look like naked, so I can occupy myself while I wait.”

Your face burns with warmth at his words, a shiver running down your spine. He’s not wrong. He’s seen you at your most vulnerable, lost to your heat, naked and stuffed with John’s knot. Your brain flashes back to the start of your heat, the feel of his fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your pajama pants. You swallow thickly, meeting his gaze as he pulls back.

“Enjoy your time with Johnny, love.” He slips his hand into yours, lifting it to his lips. He presses a soft kiss to your knuckles, lips brushing your skin as he speaks. “I’ll be here waiting for you when you’re ready.”

You feel a bit out of breath as you leave Kyle’s room, and you’re sure your scent has sweetened with arousal and excitement. You might have been tempted to just jump Kyle’s bones right now, had it not been for your desire for Johnny, and your commitment to letting him be first again. You know Kyle’s right. You’d never hear the end of it if Johnny didn’t get the chance to be next in line.

Now you just have to find him and tell him the good news.

“Ye look nervous. Are ye nervous?”

“I mean, this is a big step...” You say, wrapping your arms around Johnny’s neck as he shifts you into his lap. You try not to think about how strong he is, how easily he moves you.

“Ye don’t have tae do this, if ye don’ want to.” He says, looking down into your eyes.

“It��s not that...” You say, shifting in his lap. “It’s more...there’s no going back after this.”

He wraps his arms tighter around you. “If I didnae want it, I wouldnae offer. Yer a fucking stunnin’ omega, kitten. Would be crazy not tae want ye.”

Your cheeks warm at his words, your gaze dropping from the intensity of his own. His stubble tickles your fingers as you trace the line of his jaw, working your way towards his lips. His tongue darts out, wetting his bottom lip as your fingers trace the jagged scar on his chin.

“Just...go easy on me? At least this first time?” You say, tracing his lips with your fingers.

“‘Course, kitten.” He says, pressing a kiss to your fingertips. “Wouldnae want to scare ye away.”

Your eyes widen slightly at the implications of his words, your stomach fluttering with excitement and a hint of fear at what he could possibly be alluding to. His hand lifts, gently grasping your chin, tilting your face slightly. He closes the distance between you, pressing his lips to yours.

“Don’ worry.” He murmurs against your lips. “Take good care of ye.”

You hum against his lips, tasting the chocolate he’d been snacking on when you sought him out as his tongue slips into your mouth. His hand leaves your chin, sliding down your throat to rest right at the base of your throat, fingers splayed across your clavicle. His thumb rests right on the edge of your mating mark, the pressure making you shiver.

Johnny pulls you tighter against his chest, your arms wrapping around his neck. He moans against your lips as you shift against him, the bulge in his pants pressing against your ass. It’s not the first time you’ve felt it, but this time it’s different. This time you’re going to do something about it.

“Fucking christ, take ye right here on this couch, if I’m not careful.” Johnny groans, nipping at your bottom lip.

“Then best take me to bed, Sergeant.” You say, pulling back slightly to give him what you hope is a sultry look.

The groan that’s pulled from his lips is downright salacious, something flashing in his eyes as you call him by his rank. He curses, tightening his hold around you before he stands, maneuvering you so you’re tossed over his shoulder. You let out a squeak of surprise that’s quickly replaced by giggles as he packs you down the hall to his room.

He sets you on your feet once you're inside, closing the door. You look around his room, surprised to see it full of art supplies with drawings and paintings all over the walls. You stare open mouthed, taking it all in. It's messier than John and Kyle's rooms, though there's still a sense of order to it. A chaotic order, but you suppose that explains Johnny perfectly.

“You draw?” You say, studying the art on the walls.

“Aye,” Johnny says, coming up behind you. “In my free time.”

“I didn't know that.” A small smile tugs at your lips. “They're beautiful.”

“Thank ye, kitten.” He wraps his arms around you from behind, reminding you of why you came in here in the first place. “Not quite as beautiful as you.”

Your face warms at his compliment and you tilt your head back, staring up at him. “You're such a charmer.”

“Try my best.” He grins, leaning down and kissing your forehead. “Promise I'll show ye my drawings later.”

You turn in his arms, wrapping your own around his neck. “I know. You're desperate.”

“Been waitin’ weeks for this, kitten.” He groans, grinding against you.

He leans down, pressing his lips to yours. You tighten your grip around his neck, jumping into his arms. He manages to catch you, stumbling half a step back as his hands grip your thighs. You wrap your legs around his waist, lifting yourself so you’re face to face with him.

“Christ.” He groans against your lips, walking forward until he reaches his bed.

He drops you on your back, your body bouncing on the mattress as he settles on his knees over you. His eyes have darkened as he stares down at you, your stomach twisting in excitement. Warmth has started to pool between your legs, your scent sweetening with arousal.

Johnny’s hands are rough as they slip under your shirt, tugging it up over your head. He groans, eyes fluttering as he realizes you’re without a bra underneath. He curses quietly, something you can’t quite understand as his hands immediately close around your breasts. Your lips part as he squeezes the flesh in his hands, leaning down to take a nipple in his mouth. You gasp at the sensation as his lips close around the sensitive bud, suckling at it like he’s a man starved.

Well, you suppose he is.

He has been waiting for quite a while for this opportunity. Something about it makes your brain tingle, arousal pooling in your stomach at the thought of someone desiring you that much.

It’s not just him, though. Three of the four members of your pack have expressed their desire for you in such a way. The thought makes your head spin. You’re just a simple omega, and yet, here they are going half crazy over you.

Johnny releases your nipple with a pop, shifting so he can give the same attention to the other one. Arousal continues to pool between your legs, your arms wrapping around his shoulders. You drag your fingernails across the back of his neck, a shiver wracking through his body, his hips grinding down against your thigh.

“Fuck,” He gasps, releasing your nipple to stare up at you.

You repeat the motion, dragging your fingers slower. His eyes roll back, hips grinding harder against your thigh. He’s so sensitive, you think, pushing your thigh up against him. He lets out what can only be described as almost a whine, rutting his hips against your leg.

“Fuck,” He curses again, pushing himself back up onto his knees. “Tonight is about you, kitten.” He takes a deep breath before slipping his fingers under the waistband of your pants, tugging them down quickly and tossing them on the floor next to your shirt.

He sinks his teeth into his lip as he stares down at your panties, one of the pairs he got you on your shopping trip before your date with John. You had changed into them specifically for Johnny, remembering how excited he’d looked when he bought you five pairs of the lacy garments. He groans quietly as he runs his fingers over your lace covered skin, slowly lowering his fingers between your thighs. He glances up at you, meeting his gaze and you give him a nod before his fingers dip lower, trailing the wet spot on the lacy fabric.

You part your legs more for him as he rubs you through your panties, quiet moans leaving your lips at the feeling of the friction from the fabric. His eyes are still on you, glued to your face as the pleasure begins to build just from his touch. You buck your hips against his hand, searching out more. More pleasure, more of his touch, more of him.

“Look at ye, needy little thing.” He groans, his thumb dragging up your slit until he finds your clit, slowly circling it through the fabric. “Barely touched ye an’ yer cunt’s already soakin’ yer skids. Fucking sweet little thing, so needy for me, aren’t ye?”

You push yourself up onto your elbows, staring down at him. “Are you going to sit there and run your mouth all night, or are you going to fuck me?”

He grins wickedly at you. “I’m just gettin’ started, kitten.”

He leans down, pressing a kiss to the inside of your knee before trailing kisses up your inner thigh. His thumb continues to stroke you through your panties, applying more and more pressure as he gets closer and closer to your center. He whispers out a curse as he shoves your panties to the side, revealing your glistening folds to him. He leans forward, warm breath fanning your slit before he closes his mouth around you.

You gasp at the sensation, dropping back onto your back on the bed as he drags his tongue through your folds, flicking it across your clit before he closes his lips around the sensitive bud, suckling at it like he did your nipples earlier. Pleasure shoots through you as he eats you like a man starved, slurping away at your pussy obscenely.

“Fuck, Johnny!” You gasp, legs trying to close around his head, but he holds your inner thighs, keeping them spread.

You’re not going to last very long, not with him alternating between sucking at your clit and swirling his tongue around it like that. He’s done this before, and you can’t help the momentary spike of jealousy at the thought of him between any other omega’s thighs now that he has you.

“Gonna cum!” You whine, hips bucking against his face.

“Yeah? Gonna make a mess all over my face?” He groans.

You curse, your back arching as he continues to work you up, hands fisting his sheets.

“That’s it.” He groans against your clit, dragging his teeth over the sensitive bud. “Be a good omega for me.”

You cum with a cry, soaking his chin as he continues to tease you. He laps at your juices, not slowing any as he works you through your orgasm, even as you begin to shake with overstimulation.

“I-I can’t.” You gasp, the burning feeling starting to pulse through you as he continues to suck at your clit. It’s quickly becoming too much, the feeling overwhelming you.

Ghost’s words flash through your mind at that moment, his suggestion yesterday while you both spent time in the rec room reading. You reach down, sinking your fingers into Johnny’s mohawk, gripping the short strands. He lets out a groan as you tug, pulling his face from your pussy finally. His chin is glistening with your release, his tongue darting out to lick your juices from his lips.

He follows as you tug upwards, drawing him away from your pussy. He crawls up your body until you’re almost face to face, your fingers still tangled in his hair.

“I said that’s enough.” You say, slightly breathless from your orgasm, but you put as much authority in your tone as you can manage.

“Yes ma’am.” He practically whines, the muscles in his arms flexing as he sinks his own fingers into the sheets around you.

The sudden shift in control has something buzzing in your brain, the back of your neck tingling. You’re an omega. You’re not supposed to be in control, and yet, here Johnny is, practically folding in front of you. A thrill shoots through your veins at the thought of what you could make him do, what lengths he’d go to for you simply because you have him in this position.

“Take your clothes off.” You say, releasing his mohawk.

He sits back without complaint, tugging his shirt over his head. You take him in, the hard lines of his muscles, the dark hair on his chest, the line disappearing under the waistband of his pants. You lick your lips as he undoes the button on his pants, undoing the zipper before tugging them down with his boxers.

His cock is hard and practically standing at attention as he kicks his pants off. He’s slightly smaller than John, but not by much. Your pussy clenches at the thought of him inside you, but you’re not ready for that quite yet. You guide Johnny back up to your face, pressing your lips against his. You can taste yourself on him, making him groan as you lick into his mouth.

You guide him onto his back, trading places with him. He settles beneath you, his hands lifting to your hips, but you push them back as you pull away. You smirk down at him for a moment before you move, changing your position so you’re facing away from him. You trap his hands against the bed with your legs like Ghost showed you, sitting yourself on his taut stomach. He has a clear view of your ass still sporting your lacy panties, your wet folds pressed against his skin.

“Simon show ye that one?” He asks, flexing his hands under you. He could easily overpower you and free himself, but he doesn’t.

“Uh huh.” You say, wrapping your hand around his cock.

“Hells bells, what are you two gettin’ into during trainin’?” He groans, obviously starting to picture the lewd things you and Ghost might be doing. You wonder how he’d react to seeing you on top of Ghost like you were yesterday.

“He’s just teaching me how to defend myself.” You say, slowly pumping his cock. “I’m finding there’s not much of a difference between fucking and fighting.”

Johnny lets out another groan, but you’re not sure if it’s because of your words, or your hand on his cock. You continue to pump his length, feeling the softness of him in your hand, squeezing gently to feel the vein running along the bottom side. Johnny lets out a choked groan, hands twitching again under your legs.

“Fuck, I cannae last much longer.” He gasps desperately, his length twitching in your hand.

Pearly white beads of precum have begun to slip from his tip, and you can’t help but lean down and drag your tongue across his head, gathering some in your mouth. He lets out a whine that rivals ones of your own, his hips bucking as he gets closer and closer to his own orgasm.

“Please, kitten, let me cum inside ye.” He begs, pulling his hands free from underneath you so he can grip your hips.

You pull away from his cock, sitting up on his stomach. He’s panting, his fingers digging into the skin of your hips. You shift yourself again, turning back around to face him. His eyes are hooded as he stares at you, pupils blown with lust. His lips are parted as he pants, sweat beading on his forehead from the strain of holding himself back. You push yourself back until you’re hovering over his cock, pulling your panties to the side with one hand, grabbing his length with the other.

You groan as you sink down onto him, bracing yourself with a hand on his stomach as he stretches you open. His hands settle on your waist, squeezing your hips as you work yourself down his length.

“Fuck,” You breathe, pressing your hands against his abs as you sink down completely onto his cock, your hips flush with his.

“So fucking tight and warm,” He groans, his grip near bruising around your hips. “Fucking feel fantastic, kitten.”

You slowly begin rocking your hips, using your hands on his stomach for leverage. Your toes are curling already from this angle, the tip of his cock brushing that spot deep inside you with every rock of your hips. Small whines and whimpers leave your lips as you fuck yourself on his cock, squeezing your legs around his hips. They’re shaking already, and you know you won’t last long in this position.

Johnny seems to notice that as well, his grip on your hips tightening as he starts to guide your movements. You’re starting to sweat from the effort, your thighs burning, but it feels too good to stop. You’re getting close again, the stretch of him inside you paired with the high of having such control over him just a few moments ago driving you closer and closer to the edge.

Johnny pushes himself up as your movements begin to slow, wrapping his arms around you to shift you in his lap, laying you down on the bed facing the footboard as he slots himself over you. He takes over, thrusting into you, setting a frantic pace. Your head falls back as he pounds into you, your back arching as he folds his body over yours, pressing his face into your neck.

“Gonna cum for me? Need tae feel ye squeezing ‘round my cock.” He grunts, nipping at the skin of your throat.

You let out a whimper, nails digging into his shoulders. “Just like that.” You pant, squeezing your legs around his hips. “Don’t stop!”

“Yes, ma’am.” He groans, continuing to rut into you like your pussy is the only thing that can save his life.

You practically see stars as you cum, squeezing around his cock as pleasure jolts through your body like electricity. Your hips buck against his, grinding together like some sort of forbidden dance as he’s forced into his own orgasm by your walls squeezing around him. His hips stutter before he stills, warmth spurting into you as he cums. You hold him there, his body trembling with yours as he groans into your throat.

“Fucking hell.” He moans, starting to shallowly thrust into you. He’s still hard, his cock dragging through your sensitive walls as he continues to fuck you despite having just orgasmed. “Never gonnae tire of this sweet cunt.”

He probably won’t, you think as he continues to slowly thrust into you again.

You’re in for a long night.

Taglist:

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#call of duty #call of duty fic #x reader #alpha/beta/omega dynamics #a/b/o #omegaverse #john price x reader #captain price x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #kyle garrick x reader #gax x reader

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rubyreduji · 10 months

Text

The Peephole — jww

summary: wonwoo can’t stop thinking about how he wants to ruin his roommate, the peephole in his wall isn’t helping tamper those desires either

tags: smut (minors dni!), roommates!au, side reader x choi seungcheol warnings: mentions of blood (accidental cuts on glass), explicit sex, voyeurism, masturbation, creep wonwoo, oral (f. rec), mean dom!wonwoo, degradation, fingering, pinning, pussy slapping, finger sucking, some crying, spanking, objectification, slight hair pulling, creampies, wonwoo is obsessed with you wc: 5.0k an: once again writing perv roommate wonwoo, but in a diff universe lol (im insane), i tried to find a crusty photo of wonwoo but he just...is perfect???

Wonwoo’s body is burning up. His breath comes out in soft pants as he does his best not to make a sound. His body feels awkward and cramped but he doesn’t dare move his position. His cock sits in his hand, heavy and dripping as he presses his eye up to the shared wall between his bedroom and yours.

On the other side of the wall, you lay in bed, your chest heaving as you roll your hips against a pillow shoved between your thighs. Your body is completely bare and is covered in a light sheen of sweat as you continue to hump your pillow. You’ve been at it for at least thirty minutes now and Wonwoo has been enjoying every second.

You reach up to tug at one of your nipples and Wonwoo has to cover his mouth so you don’t hear the moan he lets out. God he loves your tits. They’re the perfect size to him and you have the cutest nipples he’s ever seen.

From the way you’re panting and the way your hips start to jerk, Wonwoo can tell you’re getting close. He proves to be right when it only takes you a few more seconds before your body is shaking and you slump against your bed. When you pull the pillow away from your legs, Wonwoo can see the wet spot left on the pillow and the slick arousal left on your thighs and it’s enough to get Wonwoo to finish himself.

With a soft groan Wonwoo sits back, his body allowing him to collapse finally after sitting cramped for so long. His stomach still has cum splattered on it, but he can’t bring himself to care. Images of your luscious bare skin still burn in his mind.

You and Wonwoo have been roommates for about six months now. You two have been friends for longer though and when it was revealed that you needed a roommate, Wonwoo jumped on the chance to take it. He’s had a crush on you for a while and getting to live with you has been nothing short of a dream for him.

The first time he saw you walking around the living room in nothing but short shorts and a thin tank top (sans a bra) he nearly collapsed right there. It was torture to live with you while you walked around like that, but at the same time it brought life to Wonwoo.

Then, like the second coming of Jesus, a miracle happened one day. Wonwoo was just sitting in his room when a picture on his wall fell to the ground. The frame broke on impact with the ground, glass shattering on the floor. Wonwoo jumped and quickly moved to clean it up.

You ran in as well and Wonwoo had to take a moment to catch his breath when he saw you in your sports bra and spandex shorts. His eyes trail up your figure, staring at the bare expanse of your stomach before he finally pulls his eyes away.

“Are you okay?” You ask him, concern laced in your voice.

“Yeah, I wasn’t near it when it fell.”

“Be careful cleaning it up, here I’ll grab a broom.” You walk out of the room and Wonwoo watches, his eyes trained on the bounce of your ass.

When you’re out of sight Wonwoo sighs and starts to pick up the broken frame and glass. He has it mostly cleaned up by the time you get back, but as soon as you walk into the room Wonwoo gets distracted again. Due to his focus being split, he isn’t careful cleaning up the last piece of glass and slices his finger open. He hisses and you quickly drop the broom to rush to Wonwoo’s side.

Wonwoo can smell your sweet perfume on your skin and he does his best to steady his breathing as you grab his hand. His skin tingles where you touch him, inspecting the cut. You tell him to stay put as you rush out of the room once more. Wonwoo doesn’t dare move, especially because he can feel his dick start to harden in his pants and it would become painfully obvious if he changed his position.

When you get back you kneel down next to him and help clean off the cut before dressing it. When you finish you press your lips to the bandage and smile up at Wonwoo.

“All better! Be more careful, okay? Or else I’ll have to play nurse again.” You send him a wink before getting up and going back to whatever you were doing before the frame fell. Wonwoo groans as soon as you leave, the wink you sent him being all he needs to get his cock to full mast.

He quickly gets up and closes his door. He’s about to jump in his bed when he looks back at his wall to see the damage the frame left. It was held up with a screw and when he looks, it’s clear the screw was torn out of the wall.

This is where the miracle comes in. Wonwoo walks over to assess the damage and when he leans in closer, he realizes light is coming out of the wall. When he presses his eye to the wall, he realizes that he can see right into your room, with the perfect view of your bed and the area right in front of it. The area where you currently are, doing yoga.

Your body is bent in half as you push your ass into the air. Wonwoo can see the way your shorts cling to your ass, the slightest definition of your pussy folds visible.

“Shit,” Wonwoo mutters. He just struck a gold mine.

He quickly sticks his hand down his pants, grasping his achingly hard cock. He stands there, yanking and jerking his cock, watching you fold your body in all different ways. He nuts with a groan, making a mess of inside his pants, but he can’t care when he watches you strip down out of your bra and shorts before heading to your bathroom.

Wonwoo’s never seen you naked before, and he does his best to commit the image to memory, All of your pretty curves and smooth skin and pert nipples. The soft hair that covers your mound and the small bit of pussy peeking out. Wonwoo lets out a shuddering breath. This is the best thing that has ever happened to him.

Shortly after that Wonwoo moves his bed so it’s located under the hole.

The new placement makes it not only easier to access the hole without having to cross the room, but also so he can now stay in bed to get off, rather than having to stand with his hand awkwardly in his pants.

Ever since he moved his bed he finds himself pressing his eye to the wall everyday, trying to get a look at your precious, bare body. Everytime he does get a peek his dick gets painfully hard and it doesn’t take long for him to be spilling his seed all over his hand. If you wonder why Wonwoo has been doing laundry so often, you don’t mention it.

When not in the confines of his room, Wonwoo does his best to be a good roommate, trying not to stare at the swell of your tits or the jiggle of your thighs, but it doesn’t always work. Especially when it seems like you’re making a point to flash your cleavage at him. You never seem to notice his staring though, always sending sweet smiles to Wonwoo. Sometimes he swears you find any reason to be touchy with him, but he doesn’t mind. He loves when you get close enough that he can smell the shampoo you used earlier that morning.

Wonwoo doesn’t think that being your roommate can get any better, until the day he catches you touching yourself.

You and Wonwoo both had spend the day in your respective rooms and it isn’t until later in the night that Wonwoo decides to take a peek in on you. He instantly thanks whatever God told him to do so because there you are, splayed out on the bed, your legs spread as you rub your clit over your soaked panties.

Your shirt has been discarded and Wonwoo can see the bare peaks of your chest heave as you struggle to catch your breath. If Wonwoo holds his breath and strains his ears, he can hear the soft shallow breaths you’re taking, mixed with the sweetest moans Wonwoo has ever heard.

Wonwoo’s dick is quickly making his pants too tight and he presses himself up to the wall as much as he can, like it will get him closer to you somehow. Your fingers are rapid as they rub at your bud, but it’s still clearly not enough as you let out a frustrated mewl and hook your fingers into the waistband of your underwear so you can slide them down your legs.

When you spread your legs again, Wonwoo gets an eyeful of your whole velvety, sopping cunt. Wonwoo sucks in a breath, trying not to make any noise. He’s seen parts of your pussy when you’ve been undressing, but never the full shot. Now that he has, it’s driving him crazy.

Your folds are glistening and Wonwoo can’t pull his eyes away from your swollen clit. Wonwoo nearly busts a nut when you slide your fingers down and push our folds apart. You tease yourself for a moment before plunging your fingers into your hole. Wonwoo can hear every slick noise your pussy makes and he fucks his fist at the pace your fingers are going, imaginging your cunt is wrapped around him.

Your hips are arching off your bed as you continue to finger yourself. Wonwoon thinks about how his own fingers are much longer than yours. How he would reach so much farther and fill you up better. You’d whine and moan and chant his name as he pounded your g-spot.

Wonwoo is still thinking about how he’d touch you, how he’d fuck you, when he thrusts once more into his fist and paints his walls white. On the other side of the wall your body is tensing up and you’re crying out as you reach your high as well. You look gorgeous with your legs pushed far apart and your hand squeezing your own breasts. The image stays in Wonwoo’s mind for weeks after that.

The only time Wonwoo ever has qualms against the peephole’s existence is the night you bring Seungcheol over. You’ve been out all night and you don't come home until it’s late. Wonwoo didn’t know the reason why you were gone but he quickly figures it out when you come bursting into the apartment, giggling and trying to shush the person with you.

Wonwoo scrambles to press his eye up to the hole in the wall and watch as your lights flip on. He watches as a man follows you into your room and shuts the door before shoving you back onto your bed. He’s well built and has a handsome face but looks slightly shorter than Wonwoo. Wonwoo hates him instantly.

Seungcheol is the name that you moan out when he climbs over you and dips his head down to kiss at your neck. Wonwoo doesn’t want to watch this. He doesn’t want to see another man touch you in the way he desperately needs to.

He just can’t seem to pull his eyes away though.

Wonwoo watches as your date roams his hands all over your body before pulling away to help you strip all your clothes off. A soft growl escapes Wonwoo’s throat. Why does this random guy get to see you, touch you, feel you, when he can’t?

Your skin glows under the yellow lights of the ceiling fan and Wonwoo tries to focus on you, rather than the naked man grinding his cock against your backside as he kneads your breasts. At least you two are standing now, instead of on the bed. Wonwoo can see you this way, without Seungcheol’s body covering yours. He can see the way you close your eyes and gasp as Seungcheol trails his hand down your front and to your core. He licks his lips when Seungcheol props your leg up on a crate nearby, spreading your pussy lips.

His fingers circle your clit and Wonwoo drools at the sight of your delicious, dripping cunt on display for him. The angle you two are standing at is right in front of the peephole and Wonwoo swears it’s like you two are putting on a show for him. His own personal live porn show.

Seungcheol moves to your front and Wonwoo is about to get annoyed when suddenly the other man drops to his knees. His fingers clamp down on your hips before he’s diving in, his mouth lapping at your cunt. Words cannot describe how desperately Wonwoo wishes that was him.

As Seungcheol mouths at your cunt, Wonwoo watches your face, focusing on the way your features contort into an expression of pure pleasure. Wonwoo can almost imagine it’s him making you look like that. Your fingers move down to bury themself in Seungcheol’s hair, your hips rutting up against his face.

Seungcheol continues to suck on your clit as you whine above him, impatient and needy. If it was Wonwoo in that position he would throw you on the bed and ravish your pussy, filling you up and now stopping until you’ve creamed on his cock at least three times.

It takes you yanking on Seungcheol’s hair a little too hard for him to finally pull away and stand up again. He moves back to his original position so his front is pressed up against your back, his fingers going back to rubbing at your sensitive clit.

Your breathing has gotten labored and Wonwoo can see the tip of Seungcheol’s dick poke through your folds as he rubs his length against your slit. You whine for him to get a condom and Seungcheol does, rolling it on before grabbing you again and spearing you on his cock. You moan, the loudest Wonwoo has ever heard you, and Wonwoo can’t hold back anymore. He pulls his own cock out, angry and dripping.

Seungcheol fucks you nicely, gentle hands and soft kisses. It annoys Wonwoo. He wants to see you ruined on your cock. It’s clear you feel the same way too. Wonwoo feels smug knowing that he could give it to you the way you want.

You and Seungcheol eventually move to your bed. He fucks you in missionary and you even though you orgasm, after you see Seungcheol out you’re sticking your dildo to the wall and fucking yourself with it. Your ass in the air with your face buried in your sheets. Your hips are frantic as you push back onto the toy, brutally pounding your pussy.

You kept shushing Seungcheol earlier, telling him ‘your roommate is home’ but now that you’re alone you don’t bother to cover up your moans. Wonwoo doesn’t know if it’s intentional or not, but he wants to think it is.

Wonwoo cums twice that night and goes to bed with the satisfying feeling knowing that despite another man having you, he could still give it to you better than anyone else.

You don’t bring men over again after that night, but it seems like you’re masturbating more than usual. Wonwoo doesn’t mind, though he does think his dick might fall off if you keep going at this rate. It’s not just you touching yourself that drives him crazy though.

There was that one day when you two where after you ate dinner together you proposed watching a movie together. Wonwoo already struggled through the whole dinner and the idea of having to sit through a movie with you was too much. He still said yes.

When he sits down on the couch he quickly adjusts his sweats so his semi doesn’t show. You two made dinner together tonight and the whole time you kept brushing up against him in the kitchen. You were in just a thin tank top and everytime you got too close to him, he could see down your shirt. On top of the shorts you’re wearing that your ass cheeks hang out of in the back, he’s been half gone for hours now.

Halfway through the movie you start to shuffle around on the couch. Wonwoo is hyper aware of your movements and it gets worse and you move to cuddle up to his side, throwing your legs over his lap. Wonwoo’s afraid you’re going to feel his stiff dick, but you don’t seem to. Or if you do, you don’t bring it up.

Your body is pressed up against his side and you’re warm and soft and your scent floods Wonwoo’s nose and his brain. He wants to grab you and fuck you right there, but he has at least some decency and spends the rest of the night trying to think of the worse things he can.

Towards the end of the movie you start to shift again, still all over Wonwoo. Your thighs are completely exposed on his lap and your already tiny shorts have rode up your legs so they look more like panties than anything else. Wonwoo’s fingers dig into the arm rest, doing his best to ignore the rub of your legs against his cock.

When the movie finishes Wonwoo quickly throws your legs off of him and he retreats into his room as fast as he can. You two have never been that physically close to each other for that prolonged of a period and Wonwoo can barely push his pants down his legs before he’s releasing long, thick ropes of cum onto his sheets.

Wonwoo doesn’t know what’s gotten into you but after that day it seems like you’re always touching and teasing him. He almost swears you’re doing it on purpose.

The worse case is the day you were prancing around the apartment in nothing but a pair of tight panties and a t-shirt. The hem of the shirt fell around at the top of your thigh, so the bottom part of your panties were still on display. Wonwoo can see the definition of your pussy lips peeking out at him.

Wonwoo hides in his room the rest of the day just so he doesn’t pop a boner in the living room. At least in his room he can keep it hidden. Pretend he has some shame about what he’s doing.

Then The Day comes.

Wonwoo is sitting on his bed, messing around with some mobile game, when he hears you. Over time his ears have been trained to pick up on the soft noises you make, but this time you’re not trying to be quiet.

Wonwoo quickly turns to press his eye to the wall, staring through the hole to look into your bedroom. You’re once again spread out on the bed, your pussy bare and spread for Wonwoo’s viewing pleasure. You’re shoving a dildo into your cunt, your juices flying everywhere as you plunge the toy in and out of your needy core rapidly.

Wonwoo is too caught up in staring at your cunt, that he nearly misses your words. “Ahh~ W-wonu, please,” you beg.

Wonwoo’s heart flies into his throat.

“Woo, please. Fuck, I need you. I know you’re over there, watching me. Stop being so mean and finally come help.” Your words are breathy and labored, intertwined with high pitched whines.

Wonwoo feels like he’s in a dream. He doesn’t process anything until he’s standing in your room, over your naked body. His cock is leaking in his boxers and the tent it’s forming is clear.

You look gorgeous on the bed, sweaty and warm with droopy eyes and a messy cunt.

There’s no thoughts in Wonwoo’s brain and he quickly tears his clothes off his body. He doesn’t hesitate to grab your body and drag you to the edge of the bed. He pushes his dripping cock up to your slit, dragging it through your folds, getting the head even messier.

Just the slight contact of your soft, wet folds against his tip makes Wonwoo go mad. A growl rips from his throat and he leans down to suck one of your tits into his mouth. His teeth brush against your nipple and he bites it lightly before pulling his head back, tugging your nipple along with him.

You can’t do anything but squirm and whine on the bed, your fingers clawing at the sheets below you. Wonwoo’s cock keeps teasing your entrance, dipping into your pussy only to be pulled back before he can get in farther than the tip.

“Wonwoo,” you whine. “Please.”

“Please what?” Wonwoo looks down his nose at you, smirking.

“P-put it in,” you say in a shy voice. Wonwoo doesn’t think you have room to be shy anymore, teasing him all this time, knowing you were driving him crazy.

“Put what in you baby? My cock?” You whine again. “Not yet.” Wonwoo’s cock is aching to fuck you, but he suddenly has the determination to drive you as crazy and you’ve been driving him.

Wonwoo pulls his hips back from you fully and you lift your hips, trying to chase the friction. Wonwoo pushes your hips back down against the mattress, pinning you there. He uses his other free hand to push your thighs apart farther. You gasp as he pushes his fingertips between your folds and sinks them into your awaiting pussy.

Wonwoo’s cock is twitching as it hangs in the air, both his own pre-cum and your arousal smeared all over it. Wonwoo reaches down and takes his cock into his hand and starts to pump himself to the pace he’s thrusting his fingers into you. Which albeit, isn’t very fast.

You roll your hips against his hand, trying to get him to go faster. Wonwoo knew you had a needy fucking pussy, but he didn’t realize it was this bad. He pulls his fingers out of you but doesn’t make them go far. He lines his fingertips up to your cunt and slaps it a couple times, quick and harsh. You yelp before turning it into a moan. Wonwoo lips his lips as he sees the slick slide down your pussy and onto the sheets.

“You like that? Nasty fucking girl,” Wonwoo growls before slapping you again, right over the clit. You buck your hips up, not caring that your cunt stings, you’re too desperate and need more.

Wonwoo shoves his fingers back into you, stuffing your pussy full. This time he isn’t slow at all. He pushes his fingers in and out of you brutally, his fingertips scraping up against your gummy walls. You wail at the feeling, your eyes never trailing away from where Wonwoo is still tugging at his dick.

Wonwoo pulls his fingers out of you, rapidly brushing them over your folds. You’re screaming as you orgasm, your body spasming as you leak slick all over. Your body finally drops to the bed, limp, and Wonwoo pulls his sticky fingers away from your pussy and up to your mouth.

He prods at your lips and you don’t hesitate to open up and let Wonwoo slide his fingers into your hot, wet mouth. You lick your own arousal off of his digits, before sucking at them intensely, staring up at Wonwoo with big eyes. Wonwoo pushes down on your tongue, letting your saliva collect there as you start to gag a bit, eyes watering. Wonwoo imagines that it’s his cock in your mouth, your tongue all over him as you do your best to slurp all of him down.

Wonwoo’s cock is about to burst now, and he’s finally done teasing you. He rips his fingers out of your mouth and you let out a disappointed huff. Wonwoo doesn’t pay any mind to it though as he shoves you over so you’re laying on your stomach, ass in the air.

Wonwoo moves up to you so he can rub up against your folds again, getting his dick slick.

“Fuck me raw, please,” you beg, your voice strained. “Fill me up and cum in me, Woo.”

Wonwoo groans and lines himself up, thrusting hard into you without warning. Your walls are soft and warm and silky around him and he keeps pushing in until he’s buried into you to the hilt. His grip on your hips is tight as he tries to keep some of his control, though he’s not sure how long it will last. He smirks victoriously to himself, knowing that he gets to fuck you raw while Seungcheol had to wrap it. Good he doesn’t want anyone else to know what your tight pussy really feels like. This is all for him.

Wonwoo presses his hand between your shoulder blades, forcing you even further down so your whole face is shoved against your mattress. You’re all his now, which means he can do whatever he wants to you. He drags his cock out of you, long and slow, before swiftly snapping his hips back into yours. Your whole body lurches forwards and your cry is muffled by the sheets.

“Fuck,” Wonwoo grunts, “your cunt is so fucking greedy, sucking me back in. I bet you like this, don’t you? You dirty little slut. I bet you’ve been waiting for me to do this. Come and fill up your pathetic pussy because nobody else could satisfy you?”

Wonwoo’s hips plow into you, fast and rough, not bothering to focus on you. You got to cum once, this is all about Wonwoo’s pleasure now. Wonwoo lifts his right hand up high and brings it back down, smacking your ass cheek red. He groans at the recoil, watching the way the fat jiggles under his palm.

The sound of Wonwoo’s balls slapping against your cunt fills the air along with the wet squelch of your pussy suctioned around his dick. Paired with the desperate sounds of sheer pleasure coming from your lips, Wonwoo swears he’s reached heaven.

Wonwoo stares down at you, your round ass bouncing on his dick as you grasp the sheets in your fingers. Your back is arched with your whole front completely flush with the bed as he ruins you on his cock.

You’re babbling complete nonsense and Wonwoo spanks your ass one, two, three more times. “Speak up, slut. Or have I fucked you completely stupid already? My cock just too good for your dumb rain to handle?”

“I-,” you gasp, “p-please. Need to cum.”

“You need to cum? Isn’t that a little selfish of you? I haven’t cum once and you’re here begging to cum a second time. Is your pussy actually that slutty?” Wonwoo scoffs. “You’re my toy now, so be good and maybe you’ll cum a second time.”

Wonwoo grabs your head by your hair and yanks so your neck leans back. Your pants are more audible now and Wonwoo leans down to pull your whole body up so your back is pressed to his front. He snakes his hands around your front and gropes at your tits, harsh and mean as he squeezes them roughly.

“God, you feel so fucking good. I love your nasty little cunt wrapped around me.”

Wonwoo can feel himself getting closer. His balls twitch as his length aches. Wonwoo leans down and sinks his teeth into your shoulder as he thrusts into you once more before he’s painting your walls white. Wonwoo keeps cumming until he’s completely filled you up. He can feel your pussy clench down around him as you reach your orgasm as well, obsessed with the feeling of his cum leaking into your cunt.

When Wonwoo is done milking himself, he unceremoniously pulls out of you, letting your body fall back onto your bed. You look completely ruined with your messy hair and tear stained cheeks and shaking limbs.

Wonwoo himself isn’t feeling much better. His head is filled with a pleasant post-coitus buzz and his muscles are sore from the intensive use. He stares down at you and you smile up at him. He reaches down and wipes some tears out of your eyes.

“You were so good for me, pretty girl,” he mutters, praise finally falling off his lips. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

Wonwoo quickly gets you a towel and a glass of water before moving back to your room. You’re still laying on your bed, but you look a little more in tune with what’s going around you than before. You allow Wonwoo to help you clean up as you drink down your water.

Wonwoo busies himself getting dressed as you move into your bathroom to pee. When you come back out Wonwoo is still standing in the middle of your room.

“So…how long have you known?” He feels a bit awkward asking, even though he just rearranged your guts.

“Since the first day,” you answer casually, like it’s obvious. “I saw the hole when I went to help you clean up the glass. Then I heard you uh…getting off when I was doing yoga.”

Wonwoo groans. “I…I’m sorry.”

You snort a bit. “I doubt that. I didn’t mind though, or else I would have closed up the hole. Honestly it took you a little too long to do something about it. I was hoping you would come and fuck me after my failed hook up with Seungcheol.”

“That was months ago,” Wonwoo says in slight disbelief.

“Exactly!” You shout. “Doesn’t matter anymore though. I’ve got you now and you’ll fuck me whenever I want. Right?” You stand up and walk over to Wonwoo, wrapping your arms around his waist.

Wonwoo grins at you. “Anything for my pretty little toy,” he answers, before leaning down to press his lips against yours.

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b1rds3ye · 8 months

Note

Cod men with an so that has a kink for their gear/uniform …thats all

Anon you are SPEAKING MY LANGUAGE at this rate my obsession for people in uniform is unhealthy but it IS WHAT IT IS ✌️(only price and gaz for this one tho, my brain just ain’t braining for ghost and soap 😩😩)

In Uniform

Characters: Captain John Price, Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

GN!Reader w/ no physical descriptions

Word Count: 1.4 (~700 each)

Genre: Fluff, Smut 18+/MDNI, established relationship

Warning: Smut, 18+/MDNI, No overly dom/sub themes I don’t think? riding + worship (Price), thigh riding (Gaz), if I miss anything, let me know

A/N: This is the spiciest I've ever written (it pales in comparison to the filth I read but reading vs writing is a whole different story WRITING THIS WAS SO HARD ARGH-)

Captain John Price

Price is not blind. For the sake of professionalism, he doesn’t comment on it, but he can’t help but feel smug when he notices how your eyes trace his chest rig. How it looks almost too small with how it hugs to his chest, the straps that wrap over his shoulders emphasising his thick arms and broad torso. How the extra gear he has to equip gives his already large chest more volume

He will never sacrifice practicality and comfort over visuals on a mission… but if he knows he should just be wandering around base he may just tighten the straps of his gear a little more than usual just so it hugs his form better when he meets you. Just because he’s in a stable relationship with you and a high ranking soldier doesn’t mean the captain can’t have some fun and a little ego boost!

Still, Price is reluctant to test the extents of your uniform kink. His uniforms are often filthy and he can’t imagine anything more repulsive than some crusty blood of the enemy staining the pure haven that is your shared bed. Even after they’re cleaned, there’s a lingering concern that they’re not clean enough

But if there’s anything that John is weak to, it’s you with your hopeful eyes and sweet smile. He’ll triple clean his uniform and he’s ready to for it to join the confines of your bedroom

Even under you, Price prides himself on his restraint. He hasn’t lost the image of a commanding captain, still fully dressed save for the fly of his cargos pulled down just enough to free his cock that is now buried in you. The rough fabric of his cargos leave a pleasant burn against your bare thighs, but it’s nothing compared to the pleasant burn of John stretching you out. You want to move your hips faster, to have him hit the parts you know he can hit perfectly. But no, this night will be slow, cherishing the delicious sight below you.

You shift slightly and you whine at the impossible fullness from within. Distracting yourself from the intoxicating pain you drag your hands along his chest rig. Prying and slipping your fingers into every crevice and bend of straps and pockets, they twitch as an odd aftershock washes through your body. Under your palms John’s chest lifts with every heavy breath. Pressing them flat against his stomach as it deflates, you exhale with him as your relaxing body adjusts to him filling up your every crevice.

John’s hand creeps up to curl around one of your wrists. The plastic coating of his gloves offers a foreign coolness that has your body jolting and you whine as goosebumps coat your burning body.

“Didn’t know you had such a thing for men in uniform,” he simpered, his other hand down to rest on your hip. He idly massages at the plush skin, fingers digging deep down into the layer of muscle. Tilting into his touch, you try and contort yourself to get his hand a little closer to where you’re most sensitive, just that little bit more but he doesn’t relent, his moustache and beard now slightly curved as he watches you with amusement.

“Only you,” you whisper and his next breath is hefty and rugged, accompanied with a satisfied hum that reverberates through his entire being.

“That’s right, sweetheart. Only me.”

You pull your hands back up to his chest rig, you slip your fingers under the securing straps and take a firm grip. Hands dangerously close to his throat, John’s Adam apple instinctively bobs in anticipation.

“Getting handsy, are we?”

“Just need a bit more,” you mutter absentmindedly. You stare at him with blown out eyes. “Can I?”

“Do as you wish.”

Using your grip on his rig, you pull your hips further, feeling him deeper, harder. His hands immediately find purchase on your hips to steady you as you tremor at the new sensation. He only moves with you, his hips offering the faintest of encouragement as he slightly drives them up into you. Once you manage to set a rhythm above him the captain sounds near unrecognisable as he stifles a groan with every tug against his gear.

“Fuck. Just like that, darling.”

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Kyle is attentive to you, so he is aware of how your eyes scan his body when he walks past. He never thought that his uniform was particularly attractive or attention-grabbing since literally everyone else wears it, but he’s glowing upon noticing that he can entrance you over what’s merely his day-to-day gear

In low stakes situations, this man is teasing you to hell and back. Not directly though, he’ll never explicitly say he knows you have a thing for his uniform, but just before a mission he’ll have you double checking if his chest rig and gear are firmly secured to his body. Of course, they won’t be, and he’ll ask you to tighten the straps, discreetly flexing the respective body parts all the while

Now you can tell when Kyle’s horny. Instead of immediately shedding his gear to wash up and relax with you, he’ll only get rid of weaponry and any contents in his various pockets but the gear and uniform stays on in a (not so) discreet attempt of getting you just as riled up as he is

“Shit, you look so good.”

You let out a halfhearted laugh that morphs into a sigh as you grind your hips against his thigh. Through the flimsy fabric of your underwear, you swear you can feel everything against you. Each individual fibre of his cargo pants, the ridges of the seams. Even through the fabric you can feel the soft swells of his muscular thigh that you’re seated on.

“You should take a look at yourself,” you praise breathlessly.

Even with clothes on, Kyle looked hot as hell. Still in his gear, it made the slivers of his skin that revealed themselves all the more tantalising. His half-unbuttoned shirt revealing skin covered in a sheen of sweat. Sleeves haphazardly shoved up the arm to reveal his lean forearms, veins pulsating with lust as they hold onto your hips like a lifeline.

“Caught you staring earlier,” he mutters. With those godly arms he wraps them around your back, forcing you to lean into him, sweaty forehead against his.

“Thought you were worried about me, but it was really you I should have been worried about.”

His words are lost on you and he only smirks as your hips move forward and back and forward again with reckless abandon. Each drag of your hips getting more exaggerated, more forceful as you strain against Kyle’s arms that selfishly pull you taut to him.

“Let me… move, dammit,” you huff as you struggle to move in his hold.

“What? Is it bad that I want to be close with the love of my life?” he offers an innocent laugh but his eyes are still trained down to where your hips rhythmically meet his thigh with sinful movements.

Grinding your hips, you grunt unexpectedly as a pointed intrusion brushes against your clothed sex, nipping at where it was most sensitive. Christ, Kyle must’ve forgotten to take out a spare magazine in his cargo pockets. The edge of its hard metal giving a delicious contrast against his thick, clothed muscle, you experiment, trying a new angle to brush your most sensitive areas with his leftover weaponry.

It sends a wave of electricity through your body that has you jerking a knee up, one that brushes against Kyle’s hard on and he whines. His embrace only tightens as he tries to silence himself with his face buried in your chest.

“Shit- do that again,” his words are muffled against your skin, echoing through your rib cage.

With the next roll of your hips you pull your knee up once again. The stimulation against his dick has him instinctively flexing his thighs, and you tremble at the extra firmness in between your legs, the sensation evoking a sound of pure sin from you.

Kyle rolls his head to the side to rest on your shoulder, his ragged breaths burning against the crook of your neck.

“Please- fuck - do it again, love.”

You didn’t have to be told twice.

Call of Duty Masterlist

#cod x reader #call of duty x reader #cod x you #task force 141 x reader #cod smut #captain price x reader #john price x reader #john price smut #john price x you #kyle garrick x reader #gaz x reader #kyle garrick smut #kyle garrick x you #/*avery actually writes*/#/*avery shut up*/#anon mail ❤️

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tiyoin · 2 months

Note

Floyd would prob like watching Spongebob.

HAHAHA OMG YES

YES

i can just imagine floyd running into it on day while internet surfing.

at first i think he’s like “…ha” kinda like a ‘oh my god this is so funny but i didn’t expect it to be’

but then time goes on and he def thinks about it, like a LOT. and of course, our poor leech falls victim to the ‘spongebob binge phase’ and just obsessively watches spongebob!!

AND THE FACT THAT IRS SEA THEMED MAKES IT SOOO MUCH BETTER TO EL OH ELL

there’s def a few times he related with some of the scenes too 😭

i can kinda see him as a patrick guy??? or maybe even a spongebob guy🤔 WAIT I THINK HED LIKE SQUIDWARD BECAUSE HE FINDS HIM RELATABLE (in bad moods) AND SCHEMES FUNNY… or maybe even plankton 😳(idk)

tell me or tell me that floyd would fuck with azul by telling him there’s this rival establishment with THEE best burgers ever.

obviously azul is confused because he’s the one and only restaurant / lounge at night raven college. only for floyd to snicker with a ‘not anymore’

and ofc azul is like: take me there!

and floyd is like: mmm no.

but now azul is on the hunt for a place called ‘the crusty crab’ and wants to know if anyone has a ‘krabby patty’ 💀

ofc azul gets laughed out of his socks by others from the sheer desperation of needing to know about this krabby patties ‘secret formula’ 😭😭

*azul slowly merges into plankton*

floyd is HOWLING with laughter as azul comes storming into the monstro, his cold blood turning his once porcelain cheeks aflame with the fires hotter than hell. so hot that it turned him into a blueberry.

“floyd-“

floyd flops a suspicious burger onto and even more suspiciously placed plate dab smack in front of azul. he looked at azul, then to the burger before fixing him a a crooked smile. “heard you were hound’s fer one of these guys.” he pushed the plate closer to him causing a droplet to fall from a red, thin tomato slice.

“is- is that-“

“a krabby patty? yeah.” he shrugs, leaning closer onto the cabinet to watch azul’s mouth drop with disbelief.

he grabs the burger bringing it up to azul, “i managed to get the last one for the day, impressive since they sell out so fast” floyd watched azul attempt to speak, but he just bit into the burger.

he moaned on faux delight. “hmm n it’s so good too.”

“floyd!” azul gasped, attempting to lunge for the burger. on cue floyd stumbled back, fingers loosening their grip in the burgers soft, golden patty.

cinematically, the once unified burger slowly started falling apart as it raced like raindrops to the floor.

with a sad squelch, the lettuce, tomato, pickles- alotta pickles, onions the burger and the most important ingredient. the secret one. all fell to the floor.

azul could only gap in despair as the elusive ‘krabby patty’ now laid ruined on the floor. he was desperate, yes, he first and foremost- he was a gentleman.

“floyd you- you!!”

“relax ‘zul, i’ll just get you ‘nother one”

“how?? because i can’t seem to find this ‘krusty krab’ anywhere! it’s nowhere on campus, no where on sage isle, and nowhere under water!!”

floyd could only laugh. oh my god. how can someone be so smart and yet so dumb at the same time.

“don’t worry,” he sniffed “i know a guy😼”

#oh my god #is azul a little ooc? yes. yes he is.#but! we can’t all be smarties all the time now can we :)#this is the funniest thing i’ve probably written in a while.#😭😭#I STARTED LAUGHING MULTIPLE TIMES THROUGH OUT WRITING THIS AUAHAH #twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #floyd leech #azul ashengrotto

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wardenparker · 5 months

Text

Vampire Waltz - ch 10

Max Phillips x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

A mysterious inheritance, sprawling mansion, eccentric roommates, friendly bat, and coven of New England witches are the newest chapter of your life after being unceremoniously dumped and kicked out by your boyfriend. For Max, the biggest change in his life is you, and what exactly he's going to do about the fact that he is stuck living with you as long as his sire continues to punish him for that incident at his last office...

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 10k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: deceased parents, cursing, food, blood and blood drinking, depictions and references to abusive relationships. Anxiety and trauma responses. Self-worth issues.* Heavy flirting, mention of a safe word, technically public groping/making out, drunkenness, weapon, threats/arguing, accidental injury, character death, blood drinking Summary: An interrupted date and a magical mishap end up with very surprising results. Notes: This chapter has been marked explicit for violence! Please proceed knowing that tags are intentionally vague so as not to give away plot points!

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9

The farm that Max found is two towns over, crawling with families and teenagers and other couples out on similar dates. The little food stand they have open is cranking out fresh doughnuts and corn dogs, and French fries from potatoes grown right there on their land — along with locally pressed apple cider and hot cocoa that is nice and rich but Max is certain just came from a powdered mix. Considering his prowess on the topic, you’re not inclined to disagree with him. Surprised to enjoy yourself so very much that hours fly by without your notice, it isn’t until you shiver in the October chill and Max very dutifully wraps you up in his leather jacket, that you start to think about home again.

Is it possible you’re only thinking that because you want to snuggle up beside him? Very possible. But that’s not such a bad thing to want to do.

“Warm now?” He asks, his arm around your waist and leans in close. He has the opportunity to snuggle close to you and he’s going to take it. The atmosphere is positively sweet and he’s hoping that you are relaxed.

“Much.” Even if he doesn’t radiate body heat, the proximity of him and his bearing makes him into a walking blanket — and his jacket is deceptively warm for being deliberately stylish. “I feel like we’ve done everything but I’m not ready to go home…which seems silly.”

“We can always go through the hayride again.” He offers, thrilled that you want to spend time out with him again.

“You wouldn’t mind that?” The last thing you want to do is bore him, but Max seems to be enjoying himself. Or at least he’s looking at you so softly and happily that you can’t imagine the expression is false — which is really its own sort of miracle.

“I’m out with you.” He hums softly. “I don’t mind at all.” It’s pretty astonishing how soft he has become for you. Managing to have you break through his crusty, self-important exterior to the soft and mushy inside.

“And you’ll really never understand how astonishing I find it that you feel that way.” You lean into his side and sigh, the heavy sound so opposed to the lightness and easiness in your heart. “One more hayride and then we’ll call it a night?”

“That sounds good, sweetheart.” He leans in and nuzzles your cheek. “We can always slip off into the woods to canoodle if you want.”

“Max!” The tone of scandal in your voice is obvious, but not in a way that disagrees by any means. In fact, your pulse jumps up and your cheeks burn hot immediately at the suggestion. “How very scandalous of you.”

With no one looking, Max flashes his fangs at you playfully. “That’s me. Scandalous.”

“Scandalous and sexy.” You huff a little laugh, letting your arm around his waist relax as the two of you walk back toward the start of the hayrides together. “And elegant, of course.”

“Always elegant.” He jokes. “You should see how elegantly I can pin you against a tree.”

Prior to Max, that probably wouldn’t have affected you too much in any particular way, but knowing that Max has never used his strength in any way but to care for you makes that image some even sexier. You know for certain that any way he had you in his arms, you would be protected and cared for — as well as absolutely wrecked. “M—maybe I’d like to see that.”

You manage to shock him. His step falters and the elegantly graceful vampire damn near stumbles. His eyes dart towards your face as he gauges how serious you are. “Give me a safe word.” He demands when he sees you’re serious. “One word that stops anything and everything happening.”

“I—” You’ve never had to have a safe word before, partially because you had a partner who didn’t prioritize your safety, but that is beside the point. Right now all that matters is the hungry way Max is staring at you. “I don’t…” The first word that pops into your head is what comes out of your mouth. “Napkin.”

He wants to laugh, but he doesn’t. Knowing that you would be embarrassed if he did. Probably interpret it as him laughing at you, rather than the word. Instead, he nods. “Napkin. Okay, sweetheart, if you ever want to stop anything – I mean even holding my hand – you just say ‘napkin’.”

"It was the only word I could think of," you defend, embarrassment hot in your cheeks even as you cuddle closer into Max's side. "But I understand what you mean. And...for the record?" Looking up at him from this close to his shoulder makes you crane your neck as though he was twelve feet tall and that's somehow even sexier. "I can't imagine that I would ever want you to stop holding my hand."

“That’s perfectly fine, sweetheart.” A cute little Hallmark perfect date wasn’t the setting he had in mind for discussions about boundaries and safe words, but here you are. “But the second that changes, I want you to tell me. Without being scared I will get mad or it will hurt my feelings. Invalidating your own comfort for mine isn’t something I want.”

"And you'll tell me too?" Somehow you know that he would, but you still feel the need to say it out loud. "Don't be afraid that it will hurt my feelings. I would rather that you always be honest with me."

“You’re my person.” He stresses, tossing you a grin. “My little ketchup packet, my favorite fantasy snack. I would never lie to you.” That part he’s serious about. He doesn’t want you to feel like you can’t trust him, you’re part of his soul. If you can’t trust the person the universe said was your perfect match, can you even trust yourself?

"I'm claiming that as my new pet name," you tell him, practically doubling over and cackling beside him as you wait in line for one more hayride through the farm. "I'm your little ketchup packet from now on. That's the weirdest and cutest thing I've ever heard."

“Then that’s what you’ll be.” He grins, enjoying your amusement and watching you with steadfast affection.

******

Eventually, after another five or ten minutes of waiting, snuggling together like every other couple in line, the tractor pulling the trailer with the bales of hay piled up to make seats arrives. Unloading the last giggling, excitable group before they motion towards you and Max to climb on. He sets a precedent by helping you up onto the trailer with a flourish that makes the other men of your group seemingly follow suit, making him grin as he settles down beside you against a surprisingly comfortable backrest of hay.

“Show off,” you tease under your breath as he puts his arm around you in the back of the truck bed and rest your head on his shoulder. “Forcing them all to up their game.”

He snorts and leans down against your head. “Poor them.” He mocks silently.

“All the girls are probably thanking you, though.” The way your hand creeps into his, fingers threading together and locking into place, is comfortable and practiced now.

“They should have been helping them up anyway.” He muses, smirking at you, “Helps get them laid.”

“Oh yeah?” Your eyes flash mischief and you grin. “Are you hoping it’ll help you, too?”

“Well, I’m always hoping.” He nuzzles your nose with his and chuckles. “But as long as I get to hold you while you sleep, I’m perfectly good.”

“I don’t think it will take too long.” It’s less a promise than a reassurance, because with the way you feel about him you’re just not going to be able to resist very long. And that’s okay.

“We’ll get there.” He’s not concerned about sex, which is amazing considering he was kicked out of the college he was supposed to meet you at because he was thinking with his dick. Maybe it’s because he knows you are his, his soulmate bond stronger than just mere physical attraction.

“Will you stay with me tonight?” The question is soft, and more plaintive than you meant it to be, but it’s honest. Just because he’s stayed beside you for the last two nights doesn’t mean that he is always going to want to. But you want him there. For every possible second that he’ll allow.

“I was hoping you would ask.” He admits, squeezing your hand gently. He wasn’t going to push you for another night beside you while you sleep, but if you want him there, there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.

“I always want you there,” you admit quietly. “But I don’t want to keep you if you have other things to do.”

"I can do any work I need to get done on my phone." He tells you. "Unless the light would bother you."

“It doesn’t.” That is an easy promise, considering you sleep more deeply in Max’s arms than anywhere else. “You could probably talk to me in my sleep and the most that would happen is I would hear your voice is my dreams.”

"Good." He curls a little closer to you and nudges your ear with his nose. "Maybe we can...sleep together regularly?"

“Honestly?” The closer he gets the more you warm up, the heat of attraction rolling off you in waves. “Stay with me every night. Just screw having different rooms, I don’t even care.”

"Ready to move me in, Queenie?" He grins, not bothered by it at all. "You must really like me." He has zero problem staying in your room from now on. Only going back to his room to dress if you couldn't, or wouldn't, give him closet space.

“You’re my soulmate.” As if it were some kind of all-powerful spell, a brisk breeze sweeps through the cart and nudges you to nuzzle closer to Max as the hayride takes off. “And technically I’m the one who moved in with you. You were already there.”

“Technically.” He hums happily, tightening his hold on you as the ride starts.

The first hayride you took had been full of local teens and one young family all looking to enjoy some seasonal entertainment, but this time it is very obviously all couples. There is no doubt about it when seven pairs of people are all sitting in their own little corners of the truck bed and cuddling without a single care in the world for anyone else present. You and Max are able to just watch the night go by from your perched spot on a bale of hay, and when you approach the tree line again towards the end of the ride you bite back a giggle. He makes you feel giddy, and you have to wonder privately how scandalous it really would be to sneak off into those woods.

“Hold on, sweetheart.” Max can move faster than you can. Wrapping his arm around your waist, he pulls you off the trailer with his inhuman vampiric strength and speed to move you to the trees, out of sight of the continuing hayride.

Clinging to him is sort of an understatement for how tight you hold on, but in just two seconds’ time or less you’re well-hidden with him in the tree line and gasping for air as you try to muffle exuberant giggles. “I can’t believe we just did that!” It feels like breaking the rules and you never break the rules.

He chuckles and leans against you gently, pinning you against the tree “Yeah?” He hums, nuzzling your pulse. “We are breaking the rules and being naughty.”

“Max…” Breathy and plaintive, his name on your lips is as certain as the way your fingers are digging into his sides to keep him close as your eyes flutter shut. He’s like a wall around you, surrounding you and blocking out the world, and somehow that is even sexier than you ever thought it would be.

“What do you want, my Dolly?” He asks, sliding his tongue out to trail lightly along your skin. “What do you need?” His voice dips down low and sensual, caressing you with his words.

It’s the most fantastic thing in your mind when he does this, lips and tongue and just the gentlest nip of his teeth on your skin making you forget everything in the world besides him. Far from any feeling you’ve had before, it is intoxicating and all-encompassing and you have to wonder how much it is the soulmate connection and how much is just your physical attraction to him. “Drive me crazy—” you gasp and it drops to a low moan when his hand spreads out over your hip and he presses in closer.

“Good.” He huffs against your skin and grins. He wants to drive you crazy, to make you forget about everything but him and the moment. He presses against you a little more and continues to kiss along your throat. “Wanna drive you crazy.”

Everything else around the two of you truly dissolves and the only thought in your head is how long you can possibly make your neck to give Max more and more skin to kiss. One of your hands finds its way under the hem of his sweater with such ease that you don’t even realize you’re touching him at first. It’s like an unconscious effort to crawl inside the strength of his embrace and just stay there forever.

“Do you know how good it feels to have you touch me?” Max growls against your skin, shivering slightly. Not from the chilly weather, but from the exquisite feeling of your touch. The feel of someone who was meant for him.

“Tell me.” Your hands seek out skin like a magnet, grazing Max’s sides and dipping delicately under the waistband of his jeans.

“It’s— it’s electric.” Even though he doesn’t need to breathe, his voice falters, nearly losing track of what he was saying. “Tingling. Like waking up Christmas morning.”

“Ooo, a fan of Christmas?” The giggle that bubbles out of you is throaty and you find yourself pressing back against the tree to give him maximum leverage while your hands retrace familiar routes. “I’ll remember that.”

“Only when there are presents under the tree.” He teases, his own hand sliding under your shirt at your back. Loving how hot you are as he caresses your skin.

“I’ll put a ribbon on my forehead,” you tease, rolling your hips forward in an effort to connect every possible part of your bodies.

“Yeah? You gonna be my present?” He groans at the thought and imagines unwrapping you from the most delicate lingerie you can buy.

“I’d like to be.” The idea that he could be bored of you by then flickers across your mind but you don’t let it stay. Max has never given a single indication that that could happen. He didn’t even spook when your abuela’s letter mentioned a husband, which would have sent any previous boyfriend running for the hills.

“You’re—” There’s a crack of a branch, one that doesn’t sound like it’s from an animal. A scent that is definitely human. Making Max groan as he pulls away from you, putting his finger to his lips to tell you to be quiet.

Being seen is mortifying enough, but the look on Max’s face is seriously displeased and you clam up instantly. A nod of your head is your promise to obey, and you’re instantly pulling your clothes back into place.

“Well, what do we have here?” The condescending tone isn’t one of a displeased hayride worker, it’s more of someone looking for trouble. Max can smell the booze from here he knows that you won’t like being accosted by a drunkard, especially this drunkard.

It should say something that you recognize his slur as easily as his voice, and you know that Max just heard the way your heartbeat jumped into your throat in fear rather than arousal. Still, you stay silent like Max ordered. “Whaddaya got there?” In the dark he can’t see details very well, but he wobbles forward another step with unearned certainty. “Little lady like her hayride?”

“Funny running into you here.” Max keeps his voice slightly jovial with a tinge of warning in it. No need to start hostile. He’s sure that will come later. “Didn’t take you for the pumpkin patch type.”

Derek reels back slightly when he recognizes Max, his mocking smile dipping down to a frown. “You.” He huffs, craning his neck to look behind the younger man’s large frame. “I’m just out with some new friends,” Derek insists, waving his arm vaguely in back of him as though fifty people should have appeared out of the trees there. “Trying to get to know my girl’s new home a little.”

“Not your girl.” Max reminds him. “You are done. Best thing you can do is leave.”

“Not gonna happen.” Derek informs him with an amused shake of his head. The arrogance rolling off him in waves is different from Max’s breed of cockiness. It’s downright sinister. “And what do you even care, man? You’ve had her, what…a month?” He scoffs at that and takes a swig out of the brown bottle in his hand. “Just go find somebody else. No harm, no foul. No problem between us.”

“There is a problem between us.” Max turns, shielding you from your ex and acting as a barrier between you. “There’s no one else for me. She’s it. So I suggest you find another punching bag to break in. She’s done taking your abuse.”

“That little mouse?” The doubtful expression on Derek’s face is all for show. He hears the resolve in the other man’s voice and sees the set of his shoulders. The only reason he’s certain he could survive going toe-to-toe with this guy is because Derek knows his own speed. “C’mon man,” he takes another step forward, adopting a friendly posture. “I’m doing you a favor here. Trust me.”

“Trust me, pal.” Max snorts and grins evilly. “You don’t want to push me. She is the only reason you are still breathing.”

The habitual haze of alcohol has Derek interpreting that statement entirely backwards, and he moves toward you with all the confidence of a swaggering buffoon. “I knew my girl could never give me up that easily.” After ten fucking years of training you, you had better not.

“Queenie.” Max snarls your nickname, ready to pounce on this piece of shit and tear him apart if he so much as touches a hair on your body. “Leave.”

“Not without you.” As much as you want to get the hell out of here, there’s no way. If Max is still here then you’re staying, and you’re not sure how foolish that deep loyalty is in your decision making but the decision has been made.

“I’m gonna rip your fucking throat out and shit down your neck if you don’t get the fuck out of here.” Max warns. “Don’t fucking bother staying around.”

“Baby.” The way Derek turns his eyes to you in the dark is practiced. Measured. And more than a little demanding. “Are you gonna let him threaten me like that, little girl?”

Once upon a time it was baby girl. Crooned and sweet and sighed in your ear to make you feel completely complacent and like he was where you belonged. It was a trick. A nasty, dirty one, and you’re ashamed of yourself for ever falling for such an obvious act. “He can threaten you however he likes,” you tell Derek, though your voice isn’t as strong as the words are. “The second I give him permission, he’ll kill you.”

Derek scoffs and shakes his head. “No he won’t, because he isn’t gonna go to jail for you.”

Max chuckles. “Wanna bet, fuckface?” He growls. “Besides, they would never find you after I’m done with you.”

“They wouldn’t.” You know that. Hell, considering who Max’s sire — your own grandfather is — you doubt there would even be a body left to find. “You should go, Derek.” The kindest thing you can possibly do for this piece of shit is warn him off, but you know that he won’t listen to you. Not now. He never even did when he was pretending to love you.

“I’m not leaving without what is mine.” His face twists into one of pure rage and he reaches into the pocket of the thin jacket he is wearing. The gun in his hand was not what Max had been expecting. Nothing in your few stories about the bastard had ever indicated that he had a penchant for brandishing a weapon. His fangs instantly descend and he’s clenching his fists together as his nails elongate into claws.

The world seems to go into slow motion all at once. As soon as you see the flash of steel in Derek’s hand your mind goes into high gear. You barely register Max’s growl or Derek’s shouting, or even the unsteady pounding of blood in your own ears. All you can think in this split second of terrified panic is that Max is about to be shot. If ever there was a time for your magic to manifest itself, let it be with this moment of intense emotion.

According to all of your grandmother’s letters — and the memories that have begun to spill back into your mind from their locked away place — you have more magic in your little finger than you do strength in your body. And that means something when it’s said about a dancer. Your body propels itself forward, voice calling out to Max to be careful, but all your thoughts are on all the things that will never happen if Derek pulls that trigger. No more dances. No more feeling Max’s heartbeat when you kiss him. No more reading aloud to him. No more dreaming. You’ll never get to spend innumerable lifetimes with this man that you’ve fallen so deeply in love with. That you want to marry. And hadn’t Yayo said his line could even have children? Without Max you would never have the strength and support to try going back in time to see your mother and grandmother again.

“Stop!” Your hand connects with Derek’s wrist at the same moment your other touches Max’s chest, and you push yourself between them with purpose. Only to feel the world turn upside down a moment later.

Max is furious when you move in front of him, knowing that it’s him that can handle whatever this little shit can throw at him. “Noooooo—” his angry yell rips out and he grabs your arm just as something happens and suddenly he feels like he’s being tossed in a tornado.

Rougher than Dorothy getting tossed into Oz, you find yourself face down in the dirt with one hand still clinging to Max just seconds later. It’s darker, somehow — the glow of festive lights from the nearby farm deadens so the moon and stars seem brighter but only from the loss of competition. There’s panting to your other side, and you scramble to your feet to grab the gun that has fallen out of Derek’s hands. Your desire to never touch a weapon in your life is far outweighed by your desire to protect your soulmate.

It takes Max a second to orient himself again, whatever you had just done had fucked with his equilibrium. Taking him longer than normal to situate himself and immediately zooms over to you as soon as you reach the gun.

“Are you okay?” Nothing else matters, and the moment Max is at your side you are wrapping one arm around him tightly and clinging carefully to the butt of the gun with the other. “I-I—I don’t think— I mean I tried to cast a protection spell,” you blurt out, rushing and stammering through the words.

“Are you insane?” Max huffs, shaking his head and his own hands slide over your body to check you for any injuries. “How could you step between me and a gun?”

“He was going to shoot you!” It was instinct, pure and simple, and the grumbling moan that comes from a few feet away signals your entire system to flood with adrenaline all over again. Derek is on his knees in the grass, shaking his head as you raise the weapon with shaky hands. “Was I supposed to just let him hurt you?”

“He wouldn’t have hurt me unless it was a wooden bullet to the heart.” Max huffs, still shaken by how you could have been killed. “Don’t ever do that for me again.”

It isn’t until he spells it out for you that you even realize the stupid mistake you made, and your eyes grow even wider looking at the weapon in your hand before you drop it to your side and instantly look around for a way to get rid of it.

“Goddamn fucking idiot—” As he starts to clamor back to his feet, Derek is cradling his head on one side and practically snarling at you. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing charging at me like that you stupid bitch? I should kill both of you!”

Max’s fangs come down again, beautiful and deadly as he grins. Hoping the bastard keeps coming. Even if you don’t want him to kill Derek, he’s going to.

“What is the meaning of this!” a scandalized voice rings out, and Max pauses, turning to see none other than Mrs. Taylor.

“Mrs. Taylor!” The surprise of seeing her out here outweighs anything else and you jump back, dropping the gun into the grass in the process but Max steps forward immediately to cover half of it with his foot and discourage Derek from trying to grab the thing. “What are you doing here?” In the dark of night, it is difficult to see that her outfit is nothing like what you are used to seeing her in, and clothing certainly isn’t where your mind’s focus is right now.

“I could ask you the same, dear girl.” Her voice is more prim, accent a little crisper, and she surveys your group with the air of a captain on deck of his ship. “Alone with two men unchaperoned. And dressed as a boy! You will be lucky if I do not inform your family. And what could you gentlemen possibly mean, cornering a young lady in the dark woods like this? Anyone would think you had no breeding at all.”

Max relaxes slightly, smirking because he knows that Mrs. Taylor won’t put up with any nonsense out of Derek. Even if she doesn’t quite know who you are yet. There’s a little bit of a reckless history in her past and he flashes her his fangs. “The lady is my wife.” He tells her. “The man is a delusional ex-beau who refuses to believe that we are honeymooning.”

“I see.” The honorable vampire draws herself up to her full height and sets her eyes on each of you carefully. “Then you will attend to the matter yourself? There is nothing but privacy, of course, this late into the night.”

Max hears you inhale roughly and he sighs. Rolling his eyes at the inability to tear the rat apart. “My wife is tenderhearted.” He tells the older vampire. “She does not wish for me to take his life.”

“Why are you being so weird?” Nothing about anything makes sense right now but maybe you’re just missing some kind of vampiric social intricacy.

“You have clearly been unsettled by this intrusion, ma’am.” Mrs. Taylor never seems to break her poise, and as she steps forward into a shaft of moonlight you see that the thing you missed isn’t an intricacy, but something very obvious. The dress she has on is one that you saw in the attic of the mansion barely a week ago. One she said was one hundred and fifty years old. “Allow your husband to escort you home. This gentleman will trouble you no further.” She assures you with a demure, polite smile.

“Come, my dear.” Max turns towards you and even though you are in modern clothing, he offers his elbow to you like he’d seen his sire do with Cookie hundreds of times before. Mrs. Taylor is about to dispose of his problem and while he would love to stay and watch, you shouldn’t. “You don’t want to see this.”

“Don’t walk away from me.” Derek spits, finally pushing himself up on his feet. He must have hit his head on a rock because his hair is matted with blood. “What’s some middle-aged bitch in a Halloween costume gonna do? Scold me?”

She’ll do a hell of a lot more than that if you so much as say the word, but for a moment you truly consider amnesty. But he was going to kill Max. That was his intention, anyway. And while you have taken endless worlds of abuse from him for yourself, you can’t let that intention against your soulmate stand. There is anger brewing in you from that intention. There is so much anger, and a decade of frustrations, fears, and failings to cap it off with. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you lean over and pick the gun up again to hand it to Max before you turn back to Mrs. Taylor with eyes of stone. “No one will miss him,” you tell her with certainty. “But he still should not be found.”

And understanding passes through her eyes and she nods once. “I assure you, he will never be found.” She says before she turns back to the man who is stumbling forward.

“You stupid bitch, you think you’re through with me? You aren’t done until I say you’re done.” He yells, balling his hand up into a fist.

Despite having an inclination of how poorly your magic obeyed you when you tried to protect Max, your hand shoots out to stop Derek’s just as his juts out. His fist collides with your palm, but instead of hurting you, he yelps in pain and recoils in shock. “I am through with you.” You tell him steadily, though you’re disappointed to find that your palm produced no flames when you look down at it. You had intended to burn him with fire but it seems like your hand only temporarily turned to a lava-like texture. It still did the job though, if the way he’s cradling his hand is any indication. “The whole world is through with you. And history will completely forget your name, just like I will.”

His hand is injured but his ego more so. “He will be bored with you in a week.” He spits. “I was. But I just let you hang around like that unwanted stray.” He wants to lash out at you, feel that hurt rolling off you again. It feeds his need to push around someone else, props him up.

“You wanted someone around to pay your bills.” It hurts to admit, but they say the truth will set you free. In a way, as distorted as it is, it feels a little true. “Go to hell, Derek. And make sure you let the Devil know who sent you when you get there. He’s a friend of the family.”

Max doesn’t allow the shit stain to say another word, whisking you away so you can’t see what Mrs. Taylor does, but within seconds, a panicked, tormented scream starts to echo in the woods. Stopping a few seconds later, nearly five hundred yards from where you had last seen your ex, Max keeps you close.

You shudder visibly, leaning into Max’s side and burying your face in his chest. “Tell me I did the right thing?” You beg quietly, knowing that he deserved worse but not feeling good at all about being the one to deliver it.

“You did the right thing.” He promises sincerely, turning into you and pulling you closer. “He’s— he would have continued until he hurt you again, or worse.”

"He was going to hurt you." Or he thought he was. He intended to. And that matters far more to you than anything else. "And I couldn't—" Your voice cracks a little and you sigh, eyes closing against the weighty truth of the moment. "I couldn't let that happen."

“Sweetheart,” Max sighs softly, pressing his face to your hair and inhaling your mouth-watering scent. “At the risk of sounding completely sexist, I’m supposed to protect you.” He hums. “You are so much braver than you give yourself credit for.”

"It's not about being brave." He said he would protect you and you believe him, but if he's focused on you then he's likely not protecting himself as well as he could. It's a vicious cycle that flashed in your mind and left doubt there, which you are not fond of. "It's..." You sigh into his sweater. "It's that I love you. And I can't stomach the thought of losing you."

“You won’t lose me.” It’s a hollow promise since he’s been brought back once before, but he still kisses your forehead. “You’re stuck with me.” He stares into your eyes and cups your cheeks, making sure you are looking at him. “I love you, Queenie, my queen, my soulmate.”

“And…apparently…your wife?” You do have to crack a smile over it, even as dower as this moment might be otherwise. “That was a surprise, I admit.”

“You will be.” He predicts with certainty. “But…sweetheart, we – whatever you did – we have time traveled back to your letters.”

“No we did not.” There is no way. It’s just not something you’re capable of. “I couldn’t even cast a Protection spell when I tried to. Or conjure a simple flame. There’s no way.”

“Did you see the way that Mrs. Taylor was dressed? The lights have changed and it smells different.” Max insists. “We are back in time.”

The fact that you noticed two of those things doesn’t quite deter your stubborn incredulousness. But it doesn’t stop you from burying yourself against his chest again and shaking with anxious fear. “What—” You blow out a long breath. “What if I can’t get us home again?”

“Obviously you do.” Max reminds you quietly. “Because the letters continued.”

“This is insane.” It feels like a trick. Like the twist of some Halloween film you turned in on Netflix out of boredom. But it is as real as the grass under your feet or Max’s arms around you.

“We need to find Mr. Taylor.” Max huffs. “If she is here, I know he is also around. The best thing we can do is get to the house.”

“What do we even tell them?” You look up at him with doubtful eyes. “We can’t just spew out that I’m family. Who knows when we are? My mother might not even be alive yet.” To make this remarkable journey and not see her would feel awful, but it isn’t as though you simply set a destination in your GPS and drove back in time. This all happened by accident.

“My sire will know that he has made me.” Max promises. “He can smell blood. He will be able to smell your blood as well.”

“I’m not sure if that’s comforting or not,” you admit with a weak smile. But there isn’t time to protest more, as Mrs. Taylor walks out of the woods looking as put-together as ever. Not so much as a hair is out of place.

“That was an unfortunate tasting gentleman.” She huffs and smooths down her dress. “Now, wherever did you come from?” She asks as she looks up and down at your clothing. “Obviously not from around here.”

“It is…a very long story, I think.” Looking over her now, in the clear moonlight, there is no denying it. Mrs. Taylor may look exactly the same as she did this morning in the dining room of your house, but she is also a much different version of herself. And her appearance is undeniably old fashioned. “Unfortunately, it seems that we are without a place to stay or any of our luggage. And…as you will understand…my husband,” calling him that is so odd and yet feels so right. “He is not everyone’s ideal guest.”

“You will come back to the estate with me.” She decides with a jut of her chin. “My mistress will sort everything out and her soulmate has the same inclinations as your husband.”

“We…know of your mistress,” you murmur, looking around to make truly sure there is no one to overhear you. “As her husband shares the inclinations of my own…so, so I share with your mistress’.”

Her brow furrows and she is curious about how you know about Cookie Brown. “A vampire and a witch… interesting.” She looks past you to where her own soulmate is pulling into the clearing with a cart. “And our ride.”

“I suppose it behooves you both to get work done at night.” The cart is full of barrels and things stacked up under oilcloth, and you accept help from both Max and Mr. Taylor in getting you up onto the bench of the cart.

“Our skin is sensitive to the sun. We cannot be out for many hours during daylight.” She explains. “But your husband should experience the same issue.”

“He does.” You reach for Max and squeeze his hand once he’s seated behind you. “Our…carriage…has darkened windows. To allow him comfortable travel.”

“That is good. Modern conveniences have made our existence easier.” She nods as the four of you start to move. “What brings you to our area?” She asks. “There has been no request for a coven transfer.”

“I am afraid it is not an easy matter.” And you have no idea if you’re even talking the right way, let alone explaining yourself well, but so far just pretending you’re in a Jane Austen novel or an episode of Downton Abbey seems to be working. “But my husband and I had thought to take a house here in town.”

“I am afraid that you will find that houses here are few.” Mrs. Taylor hums. “My mistress and her soulmate built their estate.”

The carriage ride takes far longer than the little ride in Max’s sports car did to get out here, but that isn’t necessarily a bad thing. It will help you to get a handle on the situation, if nothing else, because the situation is a very big one. “We have heard it is very grand.” You commend, nodding at the mention of the house you’ve come to think of as home. “With forty acres and a view of the sea, they say? It must be very grand.”

“People love to talk.” She’s suspicious, but you look familiar in some way although she cannot pinpoint how. Something about your eyes.

“They do.” Sensing you might be overstepping; you walk back your interest and squeeze Max’s hand gently. “Thank you again, ma’am. For helping us.”

“My mistress would be very upset if I did not help someone of her kind in need.” She tells you.

“But you did not yet know that your mistress and I were alike when you stepped in.” The smile you offer her is sincere and deeply felt, and you practically bow your head. “We are most grateful.”

“I heard the shouting and the vile curses.” Her placid expression turns into a fierce frown. “Disgusting man. Were you really entangled with him before?”

"I cannot deny it." Though you dearly wish you could. Although...none of that matters now. It is over, done with, and truly a thing of the past. An irony which does not escape you at all. "Before I met my husband, of course." You add quickly.

“Meeting one’s soulmate has a way of making the past fade from memory, does it not?” Mr. Taylor is the one who speaks up, looking fondly as his own.

There is no way to deny that, and you turn back to Max again with the sort of honest smile that seems specifically reserved these days to be just for him. "More than I ever could have expected."

“Again, we thank you for your hospitality.” Max murmurs. His fingers slide under your shirt to caress your skin reassuringly.

"The master will be about when we arrive, no doubt, and he will see to any arrangements for you after I have explained how we have all come to be acquainted." Mrs. Taylor tells you both. "And, of course, your lady wife will require rest."

“She will.” Max acknowledges with a nod of his head. He’s drained after whatever magic spell you used so he knows that you are probably even more tired due to still being human.

Conversation is polite but not overly familiar as the ride drags on, and by the time the horses are pulling the four of you down Bellevue Avenue with Chateau-sur-Mer in sight, you're practically asleep on Max's shoulder. It's only the sight of the house that perks you up again, realizing that you've come back in time far enough that the landscaping is drastically different. The huge weeping beech outside your front door is nowhere to be seen and neither is the hedge maze in the north garden. For the first time you realize that your beloved teahouse might not be here, either.

“Wow.” Max whistles and shakes his head. “Those hedges can hide so many bodies.”

Mr. Taylor chuckles, glancing over at their passenger in amusement. "The upper class like to play at a bit of mystery. Keeping the house half hidden is a game the mistress likes to play."

“I like the idea of privacy.” He admits. “They should have kept them. It complements the gothic vibe of the house.”

"Should have?" Mrs. Taylor raises one eyebrow in question as her own soulmate steers the horses and cart toward the service door of the house on the other side of the east wing.

“An estate we were close to, back home.” Max supplies quickly, with a shrug. “They tore out their maze.”

"A shame." That has the vampiric housekeeper nodding in understanding. "Such a feature is a talking point, at the very least. One that humans seem to enjoy very much." When the carriage comes to a halt, Mrs. Taylor lifts herself out with ease and dusts her hands on her skirt. "Come inside," she beckons toward the service door. "I will have you wait below stairs while I inform the master of your circumstances."

Max helps you down and immediately takes your hand. “It will be alright.” He assures you softly, aware that Mrs. Taylor can still hear every word he says. “We are safe and together.”

"This is where I feel safest," you tell him honestly, holding onto his one hand with both of yours. Whether the assembled vampires take that to mean this house or with Max is up to them. "It's all just...so much has happened the last few days. And now this?"

“At least now, you completely understand that the visit was a joy. You can relax.” He smirks, squeezing your hand. “And we can still sleep in the same bed. Or…you can sleep.”

"I will return momentarily," Mrs. Taylor tells you with a polite smile before she disappears up the stairs faster than any human housekeeper would ever be able to manage.

“At least we know the layout.” He jokes quietly as he pulls you closer to cuddle against him. Knowing that despite the letter, you are anxious.

“I guess that’s true.” Despite it, though, the nerves running through you are heavy and stinging. What was once a perfectly beautiful date night has spiraled out of control. “I just hope you’re right and he lets us stay.”

“He will let us stay.” Max is confident in that. He might not understand the connection quite yet, but the blood running through your veins is his and he will smell it.

“I hope so.” The house might be the same but all the mechanisms are different. The Viking appliances that outfit the current kitchen are obviously nowhere to be seen, and the great, coal burning, cast iron monstrosity that sits against the wall here looks more complicated to use than you could ever wrap your head around. Mr. Taylor pops in and out of the delivery door toting things off the cart from the farm with his immense strength but does not use his uncanny speed, and you wonder if he is trying to be discreet around a mortal. That sounds just like him.

“This is like living in the twilight zone.” Max snorts and shakes his head and looks around the vastly different kitchen. “I wonder what the bathrooms will look like.”

“Rene said the master bathroom on the second floor was the only bathroom on the second floor until the renovations they did in 1872.” Leaning into his side, a layer of anxiety and tension eases away when Max’s arms come around you and hold you tightly against him. “From the look of the house, it’s after that. But I saw the formal entrance on our way in, and that was closed off in 1893, so we’re somewhere in that twenty-year span between renovations.”

"So how old was your mother during that time?" Max frowns slightly, trying to keep the timeline in order in his mind.

“Yayo said they built the house when abuela Cookie was pregnant, so…at the youngest maybe around twenty? Or as old as forty, depending on what end of that spectrum of time we’ve arrived in.” It’s mind boggling, but the idea of seeing your mother again makes you feel infinitely less dreary about the entire prospect.

"We should not say anything about our true origins until we speak to him." Max tells you. He knows that you would never affect the future on purpose, but you might slip up and greet her as your mother and you can't do that. Not when you haven't been born yet. "We will see what your grandfather says."

“Believe me, I’ve read enough time travel stories and seen enough movies to know that you don’t fuck with the timeline.” The prospect of it terrifies you, if you’re honest, and you have to shake it off quickly. “I’m done with changing anything. But…what’s done is done.”

"Absolutely." He nods quickly and his fingers squeeze your reassuringly. "Do not even think about that unfortunate episode at the farm. "We know it was successful because she had written to you about it."

“I’m glad you’re here,” you murmur into his chest, knowing he’ll hear you all the same. “I think I’d be scared out of my mind if you weren’t.”

"I'm glad I'm here too." He admits quietly. "Although.....my phone doesn't work here." He jokes, attempting to lighten the worry and unsettling unease of the moment.

For just a second you think he might be serious, but in looking at his face, your lips twist into a smirk. “I’m sure your clients will forgive a short absence.”

"I need to text." He huffs, playing up the joke a little more. "My fingers are burning with the need."

“Then I suggest you learn the art of sending a note,” you murmur, hearing very deliberate steps out in the servants’ hall. “Because until I can learn how to send us back correctly, I can’t just take a chance on my magic getting us home by accident.”

"I am sure that with my business savvy and romantic heart..." He grins at you and winks. "I will be sending missives that will stand the test of time." He vows, holding his hand over his non-beating heart. "Love notes, dirty notes."

Mrs. Taylor clears her throat politely in the doorway and nods in an equal sore off manners. “Follow me,” she intones, and it feels very much more like an order than a suggestion.

He raises his eyebrows and makes a comical face as she whirls around and the two of you follow her down the hall. "I have to admit that the lanterns give the hall a proper....austere look." He whispers to you, fully aware that Mrs. Taylor can hear him.

“The estate has the finest of everything available to it.” She commends, heading for the servants’ stairs at a brisk pace that gives Max no trouble but you have to hurry to keep up with. “It is the greatest house in Newport without competition.”

"I am sure the Vanderbilts would disagree." He chuckles under his breath.

The absolutely derisive huff Mrs. Taylor exhales is fully for show, and you have to admit that you love her for it. She obviously doesn’t care a fig for those new money millionaires who built up the palaces along Bellevue Avenue that are now museums. “That cottage they bought from Mr. Lorillard is no match for a house of this grandeur,” she asserts proudly.

Max snickers, appreciating that he can still get under her skin and yet she's just as poised as she always is. "Of course not." He agrees with a serious nod. "Peasant’s cottages."

Your little trio emerges upstairs and Mrs. Taylor deposits you in the library with one more polite nod of her head. “He will be in momentarily,” she tells you, before heading back to the servants’ side of the house. If you Mrs. Taylor at all she’s off to make up a bed and probably a tea tray, but that is just a guess.

Max snorts as he walks around the room. "Good to know they still had the same taste back then." He tells you. "Or is it now?" He asks with a tilt of his head. "This is going to get confusing."

“Aren’t you the one who always says the house is a time capsule?” The chair sitting at the large library desk isn’t exactly the same, but it was definitely from the same maker. Maybe even the same set. “Fair warning. If Yayo makes me wear those giant dresses while we’re here, you’re going to have to help me keep my balance.”

He throws his head back and laughs just as the door opens and your grandfather appears. “It seems as if I have missed a joke.” He muses, his sharp eyes narrowing on the two of you.

Whatever instinct it is that’s ingrained in you, the relieving sight of your grandfather almost makes you stumble forward to hug him. It’s only the fact that you are holding Max’s arm that stops you, and you end up nodding nervously. “We’re…very sorry to intrude like this,” you start, hoping that sounds appropriately contrite.

“No, no you are not.” He hums, arching a brow. “You are relieved, but not apologetic.”

"Sorry to intrude," you clarify, though you swallow thickly at the fact that this is obviously not the doting grandfather you knew as a child. "But not to be offered sanctuary. In that, you are correct."

“And why should I offer sanctuary to a vampire and his mate who somehow smell like my progeny?” His head tilts and his fangs descend into a pair of sharp needles extending from his gums.

There seems to be no beating about the bush tonight, and you look over at Max with a plaintive expression though you both know that this is your story to tell. "Because we are." You tell him honestly, keeping your voice as whisper quiet as you can possibly manage. "In different ways. And it is a long story, but we didn't come here with any...nefarious purpose. In fact...it was an accident. Sort of."

In the blink of an eye, your grandfather is beside you, his hand around Max’s wrist and his fingernail sliced into his skin. The elder vampire's lips wrap around the wound as he tastes the other vampire’s blood and he reels back. “I have never seen you, yet it is my blood that travels in your veins?” His voice is astonished and mystified as he stares at Max curiously.

"I am afraid it is...an unusual story." And one that you are going to have to tell, whether you like it or not. A fact which makes your heart thump with nerves.

He turns to you and leans in close, inhaling your scent. While you are human, you are the soulmate of a vampire. To touch you would be a grave sin. “You smell like my daughter.”

“I should.” You don’t flinch the way someone else might have when he gets close to you and he notes it with a flick of his eyes and nothing more. “I am her daughter.”

The smell of you proves that, but he knows that his daughter hasn’t given birth. “Explain.”

“I…attempted a spell that was more powerful than any other I have tried before.” It isn’t worth mentioning that you haven’t tried much of any spell work at all before, so you keep that to yourself. “But I was able to make us travel through time by some mechanism that I don’t yet understand.”

“And my biological granddaughter managed to transport herself and her soulmate – my vampiric offspring – back in time.” Your grandfather fills in, talking mostly to himself. You nod and he is silent for a moment. “We will keep this to ourselves.” He decides, softening immediately. “You will be related through your soulmate.” Turning towards Max, he arches a brow. “What is your name? I must know it at some point, since-”

Max introduces both of you, making sure he calls you Queenie like you had discussed before. If Yayo is going to be the only one to know the truth, it makes sense to just be straightforward about most things. What you don’t want to do, however, is influence any future decisions if you can help it.

Your grandfather nods. “Cookie will be interested to meet you. As well as your mother.” He cups your cheek again and stares at you, memorizing your face. “You are beautiful. Do I tell you that in your proper time?”

“You do.” His cool hand is a welcome sensation against your hot skin and you nod softly against it. “You are always very kind to me.”

“Good.” Your answer pleases him and he smiles, his fangs once again hidden from sight. “Cookie will have settled down for the evening, so I will show you the bedroom Mrs. Taylor has no doubt prepared for you.” He glances at your clothes. “She will sort out suitable clothing. You cannot wear that.” He gestures towards your outfit.

“It certainly doesn’t seem that way.” Which is frustrating, if not realistic. You like your clothes most of the time. “But…what should we call you?” You ask after a moment. “I can’t go around calling you ‘grandfather’.”

“As you can imagine, I have had many identities through the times.” It’s almost bragging, but not quite. “For now, I am John Jacob Brown, residing here with my wife, Cookie and our daughter.”

“Mr. Brown.” Of course that makes perfect sense, and you nod accordingly. But it does make you wonder what his original name was. “And she is…here? Now? Annie?” It’s impossible not to ask, even though you know you shouldn’t make a big deal out of seeing your mother.

“By now, if you have come from as great a time in the future as I imagine, you know by now that your mother is far older than she appears.” He smiles proudly, happy he can provide centuries of life to his offspring to enjoy. “Right now. She is thirty-one. A ‘spinster’ by the collective society, yet she still receives callers regularly.”

“I would guess that most of society does not know her real age,” you venture, before looking up at Max. “Mom always had a baby face. It really was impossible to know how old she was.”

Your grandfather’s eyes flicker between you and your partner, not missing the terms you are using to describe your mother. Past tense, as if she is no longer in your life. “She appears to be eighteen.” He nods and Max snorts. “Sweetheart, you should look in the mirror. You don’t look twenty-one yourself.”

“It runs in the family,” you joke quietly, always glad for any way you could be positively compared to your mother.

“Have you eaten?” Your grandfather asks and then shakes his head. “I meant the vampire; I know that Mrs. Taylor has prepared a tray to have sitting in your room.” His eyes crinkle in amusement.

It is something of a comfort to know that Mrs. Taylor has always been the same, and you smile at how pleased the vampire housekeeper would be to know that the house still operates like a well-oiled machine under her supervision. “Actually…Mrs. Taylor takes wonderful care of us, still. So Max had blood at tea today.”

“I see.” He nods in understanding. “When you are needing some, we have a donor, so the supply is fresh.”

You both thank him, not wanting to say too much about your own time and give away more than you have. When Mrs. Taylor appears a moment later to escort you to your room, it is only at the prospect of sleep that you really start to feel how exhausted you are.

“Don’t worry, Dolly.” Max murmurs as the two of you are guided through the familiar halls. It’s not as if you can say that you know the way since you’ve supposedly never been in this house. “I will not leave you during the night.”

The third-floor guest room you are shown to has a big, beautiful canopy bed carved in Chinese imagery and with a typically Chinese element in the carvings. Renee had told you once that he took Cookie to China when they were first married and she had loved it there. As far as you know, this is known as the Gold Room, and judging by the even more brilliant color of the gold silk brocade wall coverings and golden bedclothes, it probably is called that in this time as well.

“The bell cord is right here.” Mrs. Taylor wraps her hand around a gold braid rope. “If you require anything, just pull it sharply and we will be up.”

“Thank you,” a simple nod seems to work best, but you chew your bottom lip nervously and add, “for everything.”

“My pleasure.” She nods and motions towards the sitting area. “There is a tray with some refreshments if you wish.”

“Thank you,” you murmur again, barely stopping yourself from assuring her that she always takes such good care of you. Yayo says your origin needs to remain a secret from everyone else, and you absolutely understand why.

Once Mrs. Taylor leaves the room, Max turns to you and cups your cheek. “When you want to talk about it, sweetheart…why don’t we call it ‘back home’?” He suggests. “I know this will be hard, but we can do this, we did this before.”

“It’s hard to wrap my head around.” With your face in his hands, your shoulders droop from pure exhaustion rather than anything else, and you sigh. “We’ll say we’re from Tennessee? Since that’s where we would have met if things had gone differently?”

“Perfect.” He winks at you. “I’ll adopt a hillbilly accent and everything.” He teases, knowing that he was nothing but happy in Tennessee before he was kicked out of Vanderbilt.

“Don’t push it.” Even though you try for a warning tone it comes out in a laugh. “I’m so fucking grateful you’re here, honey. I couldn’t do this without you.”

“Sweetheart, we are in this together.” He promises, leaning in and giving you a soft kiss on the lips, relishing the sudden bump of his heart. Something he doesn’t know if he will ever get used to and he loves it.

“I’m very glad to hear it.” Without that solidarity, with his utter and complete support, you really don’t know how you would manage whatever is to come. But with him? You just might be able to make it work.

______

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#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Max Phillips #Max Phillips x you #Max Phillips x reader #Max Phillips x female reader #Max Phillips x f!reader #The Thief #Bloodsucking Bastards #Casillero del Diablo #soulmate au #mysterious inheritance #time travel #character death

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charliehoennam · 27 days

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angel part 2

pairing: louis bloom x f!reader

summary: louis and his newfound crush slip deeper into their attraction after the 'wet dream'.

warning: this fic contains dark themes such as stalking, dubcon/noncon, smut and others. Read at your own risk. 18+ ONLY.

SHARING IS CARING, SO PLEASE REBLOG

The early morning sunlight begins to stream into your room. Its beaming warmth stirs you from your deep slumber.

Your head is pounding. The room feels it's still spinning around you and your mouth is drier than a desert.

Water would be really good right now, but you're not ready to get up yet. Your limbs still feel heavy and sore.

As consciousness slowly permeates back into you, you realize the soreness concentrates down between your hips. You lay in bed and think back to the dream you had.

You're riddled with confusion. You've had plenty of hyper realistic dreams before, but this felt different.

It felt so real and so good that you wish it had been real. You brush it off deciding to believe you're just so hung up on your neighbor. Being single for as long as you have been, his kind gesture and his piercing blue eyes are incredibly hard to not find so attractive.

You could still feel his warm breath on your skin. His hands felt soft and rough altogether gliding over your supple thighs and groping at your breasts. The memory of his wriggling tongue in your pussy already has it growing wet again.

You must've been really wet in your sleep judging by the stickiness on your sex. It seemed sort of clean; it must have rubbed against your bed sheets or something. It explains the small crusty stains on the cotton fabric.

Looks like you'll be doing laundry today. You needed to anyways. The stack of dirty clothes that you'd been ignoring during the packing process has piled up.

Louis watches you stir around in your bed from where he's stood behind his dull green curtains.

"So pretty even when you wake up," he thinks to himself.

He's so hypnotized by you, he doesn't even look down at the bowl of cereal in his hands as he eats calmly wondering if you know.

He watches your hand slide down between your legs to feel around, blissfully unaware as you search for any residue in your sore pussy.

His stare is relentlessly fixed on you. He can't look away, not that he even wants to. His heart drums faster in his chest along with his thoughts.

Does she know? Did she wake up? Is she going to touch herself? Did she enjoy it?

Inebriated with intrigue and curiosity, he stands frozen with one wide creepy eye peeping out from behind his curtain.

His mouth dries with anticipation, hoping you would touch yourself at the thought of being fucked by him. He can almost hear his blood rush in his head as his breath catches in his throat. He wishes he could hear every sound you make.

Lou doesn't even notice he's holding his only breath as you investigate your body, running a hand over your sore breasts and swollen pussy, when he sets his cereal down on the flower table by the window.

"I can't believe it," he thinks to himself. "That little filthy whore liked it. Can't get enough. Just the way I like it."

While you're asking yourself how this came to be, wondering if your little wet dream became a masturbating sleepwalking session, Lou's got his pants and belt open to unleash his heavy twitch dick.

With every recollection of your soft skin, the taste and the warmth of your pussy, his precum oozes from his domed head, allowing himself to smear it over his veiny member adding to the lube of his spit.

He can imagine how sweet your moans must sound. He would give anything to hear them while defiles your innocent body, plundering for the mind-numbing high.

It brings him to the idea of setting up cameras in your apartment, which doesn't sound so bad.

How come I hadn't thought of that before? He questions himself mentally, being the perverted voyager that he is.

He makes a mental note to plan that later. His mind is too impaired to churn out the details for that. Right now, all he can focus on how your hand is still between your legs.

As you think back to every possible explanation, your mind seems to only concentrate how realistic your dream felt.

You could smell the musky cologne of his body. You could feel his cock pushing and pulling in and out of you. You could feel his tongue wiggle between your folds once he was done pounding it ruthlessly.

The more you think about it, the more you ache for your neighbor.

The thought of him fucking you into your mattress drives you reach your heavy arm to your nightstand and pull out your vibrating friend.

The soreness of your limbs and the throbbing headache aren't enough to silence your pussy's craving. And it yearns for Lou.

Lou watches with a dry mouth hung open as you grind the humming cock against your pussy, drenching it with your slick to push it in.

You lick your lips and moan as you let the vibrator tease your clit, imagining Lou's face so clearly hovering over you as his dick penetrates your cunt.

The thought of the heavenly sounds your bodies would make as his hips snap against your sweaty hot skin.

You imagine threading your fingers into his silky hair as he buries his face between your legs, his tongue invading your core. The intensity of his thick-browed gaze up at you, gripping you with greedy hands and hunger as his mouth works it's wonder on you.

The watch on Lou's wrist rattles softly in the quiet of his apartment as he tugs his dick; his only little compliment to your performance.

With your legs spread wide, you push the vibrator into your slick slit and begin fucking yourself into your own bliss.

You're so fucking horny and drenched that the squelch of your pussy overcomes the vibrations of your toy. You're so hungry for cock and so pretty unknowingly putting yourself on display, holding one leg back to your chest as you fuck your pussy.

You're moaning, gasping and kneading your breast while Lou struggles to not cum just yet.

He wants to wait to cum with you. He wants to cum together because you're his. You were meant to be his and you have to cum together. He needs to feel - or at least pretend enough - that he's right back in your vice of a cunt, dicking you down raw.

His breath hitches as you get closer together and closer and closer until the pulling tension finally snaps in your cores, sheathing you both euphoric waves of pleasure.

"Fuck," he sighs looking at the curtains he'd just stained with ribbons of pearly white cum.

He really needs you again.

He wants more. He'll always want more.

Looking back out the window, he sees you slowly getting to walk to the bathroom and exit from view. He correctly assumes you've gone for a shower, but he needs another round.

With the camera hooked up to the tv, he finally sits back on his couch with your panties in hand. He presses play and begins to watch his work of art from the previous night, he threads his cock into your panties and begins to stroke his length.

He takes a bit of time to notice all the little intimate details of your home that reflect your tastes. Stroking his softened cock to its hardened state again, he makes notes of most of the things you love.

What a lucky little angel you are. He should be watching the news to see what his team's managed to capture without him. Yet here he is, prioritizing you. Worshipping you. You just don't know how truly special you are...yet.

Louis's head falls back as the vulgar images and sound lull him into bliss.

He remembers how pretty you looked. So exposed just for his eyes. All and only his even if just for a while.

Louis's chest heaves as he stares at the TV. You look so peaceful in your sleep. He wonders if he'll ever get to sleep beside you.

While Lou jacks his cock off to the dirty homemade video with your panties hooked around his cock, the fresh scent of the dark brew in your coffee pot wafts through your apartment, infiltrating your bathroom as you wash yourself in the shower.

The warm water rinses away the soreness of your body as you sit on the ground under the running shower.

You close your eyes to enjoy the soothing calm of the shower. Your mind begins to wander. What is it about him that has you so hung up on him?

Sure, he's attractive. He's no LA fitness model. Just a thin, young man with a deadly smile, luscious brown lock and piercing unyielding eyes that could burn a hole tight through you.

He looked fairly common, but there was still something there within that brought a chill up your spine until the hairs on the back of your neck stood on end.

To be entirely honest, you can't tell if you're attracted to him or scared of him. But whatever it is, it's pulling you like a magnet.

As he waters his treasured flower, he notices across from his window that you're gathering clothes and bedsheets, preparing a laundry basket as you nestle the laundry soap and softener upon the piled fabrics.

He sees this as an opportunity to get closer to you presenting itself. And given the mess he's made on the curtains and your stolen panties, he knows it'll have to be laundry day for him as well.

The complex you share has a community laundromat for the tenants. He presumes that's where you're going, he needs to get there before you do. He needs you to think it's all a mare coincidence.

He watches you wide-eyed as you set your basket down on the couch.

Your toast's popped up in the toaster.

He sighs in relief, knowing now he has enough time to gather his laundry and soap to race to the laundromat to get there before you do.

He stumbles through his apartment, gathering whatever he can find to toss aimlessly into his laundry basket. Then he gathers the curtains from his window to dump them into the basket, along with your dirty lace panties.

He kinda hates that he ruined them. Now, he'll have to wash them and that will wash away your precious scent. No worries, though. He'll just steal another next time and make sure he keeps that one sealed and cleaned to sniff whenever he craves your pussy.

Grabbing a few more clothes, not really caring if they're clean or dirty, he takes one more glance out the window and see that you're still enjoying your simple breakfast.

Dressed in a pink shirt, he ties his brown locks back away from his face and carries his basket on his hip as he calmly makes his way to the laundry room confident in his plan to win you over.

You finish your slices of buttered toast and coffee before wiping your hands together and quickly rinsing the dishes.

The move must have really taken a toll on you because your body is beyond tired, but you still need to push forward though all you wish you could do is sleep under your covers.

Taking a cold water bottle from the fridge, you walk out of your apartment with basket wearing a simple top, short denim shorts and a pair of flip flops.

As you approach the laundromat, you can hear a machine working already from the hallway. The door is wide open, providing more light into the dull dark laundry room.

Outdated washers and dryers line the the walls of the room - if you can even call it that. It really looks more like a building basement with the lack of windows.

You freeze for a minute as you quickly make out the familiar figure standing with his back to you as he calmly sets his clothes in the washer one item at a time.

After a glance over his shoulder, he turns around his head to flash a smile that attempts to seem more welcoming than devious, though faint worry radiating from your amygdala questions his succession in asserting comfort.

"Y/N, right? The new neighbor?" As if he could ever forget your name.

"Yeah. You're Lou, right?" you reply politely returning the smile.

Without any control, your pussy squeezes around nothing arching for him once again as you're reminded of your dream.

"Are you settling in alright?"

"Yeah, I am. Still have some unpacking to finish, but everything is going well. Thanks for asking."

"Sure thing. Oh, " suggest washer number 3. It works the best if you ask me. Don't bother with number 9. It'll take your coins, but it doesn't work. I personally believe it's intentionally rigged to steal our money."

"Thank you for that. I'll have to keep that in mind," you smile politely.

You wonder if it's actually true or if he just wants you to be closer to him given that washer number 3 is right next to him. Why wouldn't he take the best washer instead?

Brushing off the worrisome questions, you feel like you barely know him enough to make judgements about him, so you walk over to the washer beside his and start loading it up.

"Thank you for the cookies again. They were really good. I almost ate all of them."

He smiles to himself. Almost? That could only mean you didn't eat all of them, meaning there are more of the sleep-inducing cookies that can provide him with another opportunity and hopefully tonight.

His dick twitches at the excitement.

"I'm glad you enjoyed them. Although I admit they're much better when eating within the first two days. After that, they start to go stale."

They don't, but he can't risk you not eating them.

"Guess I'll have to finish them all today. What a sacrifice," you reply ironically flashing a smile at him.

He chuckles at your jokes, trying his best to mimick genuine amusement.

"What an awful way to indulge."

"Did you make them from scratch?"

"Oh, of course" he lies. "They're my late grandma's recipe."

He never even met his grandmother or grandparents. He was given up to adoption at an early age. He lies to add a personal taste; he hopes he can win you over a little with a family-friendly detail.

And he does.

"Aw, that's sweet," you swoon. "Did you learn how to cook with her?"

"She taught me enough to get me by."

"Well, she taught you well. Those cookies were delicious."

Yes, you are. The best thing I've ever tasted, he thinks to himself.

"She taught me how to make a wonderful chocolate cake as well. I'd love to make it for you sometime," he beams at all the possible opportunities that flash through his mind.

"Yeah, I'd love that! I love chocolate cake. But you gotta let me make you something too," you reply feeling a little too spoiled.

"You don't have to do that. I love baking," he hasn't the slightest clue how to make a cake from scratch. Thank God for box mix, though.

"Well, I wouldn't feel so bad about accepting all your treats. Why don't you at least let me take you out then? My treat."

"Are you asking me out?" he smirks locking his eyes on you.

"I might be. Doesn't have to be a date if you don't want to."

Your cheeks flush with warmth as he catches your not-so-subtle invitation.

"Yeah, I'd love that. And I appreciate a woman that isn't afraid to take the initiative."

You smile brightly feeling like you just took a step in the right direction.

"I'm free tonight if you are? I know a great place that serves authentic Mexican food."

"Sounds great to me. How about tonight at 8?"

"Perfect, sweetheart" he grins.

His idea to win you over is actually working, all according to plan.

#louis bloom #louis bloom x you #louis bloom x reader #louis bloom x y/n #lou bloom #lou bloom x you #lou bloom x reader #lou bloom x y/n #nightcrawler #jake gyllenhaal #jake gyllenhaal fanfic #jake gyllenhaal fanfiction #jake gyllenhaal smut

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natasha-in-space · 4 months

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Every so often, I can't help but think about all the dirty jobs Saeyoung had to do during his time as an agent. I'm not talking about the usual digital crime stuff he feels comfortable enough to mention openly. I'm talking of those missions he'd rather just shut up and never speak a word about. What about all the missions that went wrong for him, back when he was still young and inexperienced?

The fact that he has blood on his hands is apparent to us. But, do you ever think about whether or not he was forced to kill an innocent? Be it by some cruel accident or by direct order from the higher ups he had no choice but to obey? Have you ever thought of him having to make a quick elimination on yet another corrupt member of society, only to realize that his family, who has nothing to do with this, had seen him?

Have you ever thought about him doing everything he can to fix this: coming up with shaky lies on the spot, attempting to fabricate evidence, eventually resorting to pitiful begging that goes nowhere. But there should not be any witnesses. It's too late to turn back now. He got sloppy. His DNA is already on the scene of the crime. If he refuses, he not only puts his own safety at risk, but these people will get eliminated regardless. The least he can do is make it quick and painless. Have you ever thought of him still having to come back to his sad parody of a home and pretend like everything is fine? Like this was just another Tuesday, and not one of the most sickening things he had to do and witness?

Have you imagined him sitting down, staring at his bloodied hands with a blank and glassy look to his eyes, his weapon still in his grasp, and his ears ringing from every shot he has fired? Have you ever thought of him feeling so utterly disgusted and ashamed of himself that it almost seems like the silver cross on his neck that has always brought him a sense of security, is burning through his clothes and straight into his flesh? He won't take it off, no matter how heavy it feels. He wears it as a constant reminder of the sins these hands have committed. He knows that God has seen it all. He knows that, much like Lucifer, he will never be allowed to step foot over the Heaven's Gates. His soul is too sullied. Too dirty. Too sinful.

I feel like these are the days when he goes complete MIA. He tells everyone in the RFA later that he just slept through these few days.

He maintains contact with V, just in case. But, really, he spends these few days just... in a daze. Luciel has no remorse for selling his entire life away to guarantee his brother's happiness. He does not regret sullying his hands in the darkest sins this world had to offer, if only it means that Saeran's hands will get to do all the good things he has always dreamed about. He does not regret forsaking his own childhood, because he never thought of himself as a child in the first place.

But, in these moments... as the events of what he has done continue to unfold in his head over and over again, like he never even left, he feels it. Regret. Guilt. Disgust.

Luciel harbors a deep hatred towards his parents. He hates his joke of a mother, who has brought nothing but endless torment on her own children for ruining the life she foolishly destroyed all by herself, something he despises with all his heart. He hates his father for forcing them to live in constant fear and paranoia, just for the unforgivable crime of being born into this world. He hates every bystander who has done nothing to correct such an unfair act of pure cruelty unfolding right in front of their eyes.

But, as his vacant gaze keep drifting back to the equipment he has stashed away in one of his many drawers, a grim thought claws at his insides, tearing him apart piece by piece like a vicious parasite feeding on his flesh: is he... really that different from them?

Vanderwood ends up being the one find him, slouched in his seat, his hands still caked and crusty with blood. They just sigh, already knowing what happened. It's something they all had to go through. They just sit next to him, letting the younger agent know he's not alone. And, once Luciel's shoulders start to shake with choked, painful sobs, they don't say a word. They just let him break down into their arms.

It's one of the rarer moments of tenderness between the two.

#mystic messenger #mysmes #mysme #mm #saeyoung choi #choi saeyoung #mystic messenger 707 #luciel choi #i have.... thoughts.#this is something i definitely want to write a full drabble about #exploring saeyoung's trauma in the agency is something i think about a lot

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cosurmqne · 2 months

Text

02 — a short life of trouble

[ RDR2 X fem reader , 2310 words ] — previous ✶

“what were you thinking! bringing another woman in here.” “great, another mouth to feed.” “what if she draws more trouble right to us?”

“SHUT UP! all of you. she needs help. last time i checked half of you wouldn’t be standing here today if it weren’t for us taking your sorry asses in.”

the blood stained stranger was laying down in a bed of rough canvas and animal hide, it’s fabric the softest thing she had ever felt after a month of dirt floors and blankets of pine-needles. the distant voices slowly awoke her mind, her eyes opening carefully as the morning sun stung them with its bright beams. how long had she been asleep? she knew it was morning when she was lifted onto a strangers horse, morning still when she slumped onto the mans back out of exhaustion and defeat, not even caring what would happen to her when she awoke or where he was taking her. and yet here she was, still morning? no, the stiffness of her joints suggest at least a full days rest, her legs wobbling slightly as she turned over and placed them on the soft grass beside her.

her hands travelled to her face, expecting the almost familiar texture of dried blood, crusty and flaky, but was met with her soft skin. the edges of her hair and a few tricky spots still had reminisce of blood she could scrape off with her chipped nails, but it seemed someone had wiped her face clean.

her clothes were different too, the blouse and pants she was wearing a size too big but clean and comfortable, her ripped outfit she last remembered wearing folded neatly at the end of her bed and completely pink. she figured someone had tried to scrub them clean, but the redness was impossible to remove.

“good to see you’re finally awake.”

the sudden closeness of a mans voice made her jump and spin around. she was met with a surprisingly kind face of an older man, smiling cautiously and offering a homemade mug in his left hand, the steam and smell suggesting the rare liquid that was coffee. her mouth watered instantly.

“here, it’s for you.” he moved closer, kneeling down next to her bed and placed the warm mug in her stuff hands. “don’t worry, it wont jump out at ya’”

y/n let a small smile escape her lips, “thank you.” she croaked, her voice straining and making her cough slightly. maybe she had been out for more than a day?

as she sipped her drink and let the coffee warm her from head to toe, the man continued. “my names hosea. i’m … i guess you could say i’m kind of a top man around here. just don’t tell the others i’m really in charge …. HA!” he joked and let out a small chuckle, but the woman just looked at him curiously, seemingly frozen still apart from her arms lifting up and down. he guessed he should change his approach ….

hosea cleared his throat, “ahem, well…. you sure gave us a fright earlier on. all that blood on ya, we’d thought dutch brought back a corpse, with you slumped over and all…” with again no response, he continued. “look miss, we’re good people here. well, not really good, but better than most, i can assure you. why don’t we go somewhere a little more private, you can talk to me. tell me how you got into this mess.”

he stood and offered his arm. to y/n’s surprise, she rose and linked her own. while she should never trust a man so easily, her conscience screaming at her for it. but he seemed kind. honest and trustworthy. human. something she hadn’t seen in a long time. besides, she figured if they had wanted her dead, she would be face down in a river by now…

they walked, making a beeline towards the trees in front of them. “what was your name miss?” hosea asked.

“y/n.” she responded.

with her eyes adjusted, bearings found and legs moving again, she let herself scan the area around her. she was in a camp, one that seemed small but … live in? tents, campfires, horses and even a kitchen of sorts was set up. quite a few people were living here, men, women, even a child? she tried avoided the eye contact of the strangers around her, not knowing what mess she could have landed herself into. it seemed a few had stopped their morning chores for a fleeting moment to get a glimpse at her walking past them, pretending to take no notice of her and continuing on whenever she caught their eye. had they been waiting for her to wake up? she guessed she was a stranger sleeping amongst them, concluding she would be just as curious to get a glance at herself as well.

looking around still, she held the gaze of a familiar face, the one she had once pointed a gun towards and one took her to this place. dutch was his name right? hosea beside her seemed to look his way as well, letting out a single tune whistle and pointing his head towards the forest they were heading too. the dark haired man instantly dismissed the two men he was talking to and started coming their way. it was like a shepards call she thought, a codependent understanding that could only be trained with years of practice.

“here, this is a nice spot. i tend to do a lot of thinking here.” hosea said, leading and sitting them both down to opposite logs on soft grassy ground, much greener than the almost dirt floors back at the camp, untouched and unflattened by consistent steps. it looked out over the lake that surrounded the area, but was still thick with trees and streaked with sunlight peeking through the canopy.

the heavy footsteps of dutch became closer, his voice loud and true, “aaah, our celebrity guest, awake at last.”

as he stood before them, y/n rose upright at once, standing stiff and attentive before she could stop herself. she tried to swallow the familiar feeling of guilt like a rock stuck in her throat. “th… thank you.” she let out, quicker than she was intending. “i’d sure be dead and buried if not for you.”

she felt like this needed to said, right then and there. not totally understanding it herself, but knowing that his actions will forever be a debt she could probably never return. she knew from experience and dread that owing someone an unpayable debt was the worst burden to carry, and a feeling she wanted to loosen as soon as possible. a thanks was a start.

dutch just smiled and chuckled, raising his hands up like he did in the forest on their first encounter, “theres no need for thanks, just … take it a day at a time. at ease.”

y/n sat back down, almost embarrassed by her outburst but distracted when hosea spoke up. “dutch here said you had a run in with some o’driscolls. dealt with them pretty well too, where did you learn to shoot like that?”

the woman swallowed, she figured there was no reason to be coy anymore. a voice in the back of her head was yelling out, what are you doing!? you don’t know these men!? they don’t need to know nothin’!? and yet …. she was almost beyond caring about that now.

“my pa taught me,” she admitted, taken aback already by her honesty. “and my brother. he was a lot older than i am, sharp shooter and kept us out of trouble.”

dutch let out a noise, “tsss, some trouble you must have had. not even half my men here couldn’t kill with such efficiency.”

“well, we had a farm up north, a big property. it wasn’t much, just a few horses to sell and trade but it had been with my family for generations. it was home.” she paused. dutch and his partner were sitting opposite her and staring with unbroken attention, seemingly hanging on every word. it threw her off a little but she continued on. “being isolated up there we were bound to run into trouble, usually just some fool trying to swipe a horse, wolves maybe trying to take one for a meal. nothing unusual, but being able to take care of ourselves was a high priority, and my pa taught us well. he made sure we knew how to handle all kinds of trouble…”

“when my brother went and got himself killed down south in the war, it was me who was left in charge, with my father too old and my mother untrained. we got along just fine, until these men keep knocking at our door. harassing us, showing up constantly, trashing our barns, stealing our horses. they wanted us gone, for what reason i couldn’t say … after a few months it was manageable, i’d shot enough of them to make their appearances less frequent… but…”

she had stopped, her throat closing slightly her but no tears threatened to break free. she was thankful, crying in front of these men seemed like the worst scenario. never again would she let a sign of weakness slip from her. she had done her weeping, was done with meekness and dependency. she could tell dutch sensed that about her, while hosea watched her with concern and understanding, he was smirking slightly, like he was seeing straight through to her core.

“but?” dutch pushed her on.

with a tough swallow, she continued. “but… one day when i was collecting water from our well down by the river, i looked back up the to see a pillar of smoke. thick, grey and as high as i’d ever seen. by the time i ran back and got view of our burning home, our barns were pitch black, the horses aflame and running in every which direction, the air orange and almost unbreathable. when i saw the roof of our house collapse completely, i knew it was over. everything inside was destroyed, my parents included….” she cleared her throat. “i had just raced to our shed and grabbed as many guns as i could carry, when i heard men laughing. all those men, probably twenty, who had been coming up to us for months. all here. i realised they must have all been from some sort of gang, and could tell they’d tried to steal as much as they could from us. i knew we had hardly any money in the house, and by the small bad one of them was holding, they’d only managed to swipe no more than 30 dollars …. all that . my home, my family, everything. taken away for 30 dollars….”

she could feel heat rising through her cheeks, hands clenched into fists without knowing and her voice rising. “i guess they weren’t happy with that and decided to make their exhibition worth their time… their laughing stopped as soon as i started shooting. one by one, not even caring to hide or take cover, just wanting them dead. i needed them all dead. i don’t even know or care to remember what happened. a-mist the flames and gunpowder i one jumped me, but id stabbed with him their own knives. i shot though them all like they were no more than the deer i had killed countless times for supper. like it was a necessity, not a murder.”

“wether they were all dead or ran away or lost in the fires, i’d escaped with nothing but what i had on me. for months i’ve been running, not really sure what to do, where to go. stealing food, money, constantly moving and too scared to fall asleep or stay in one spot for longer than a week… i ran into a few more of those men here and there, they seemed to be scouting me. i learnt that they called themselves the o’driscolls and their leader was furious that a woman had outsmarted his men, that a quick robbery had turned into a slaughter. he wanted me dead. still wants me dead i guess…”

“and, this is where we meet?” dutch said, his arms now rested on his knees and hands fidgeting with the large rings on his hands but full attention of her words.

“yes, i’d been running for four days straight, how far i travelled i’m not too sure but i knew they wanted me dead for good. they’d sent a bunch of those irish bastards to me and i was constantly trying to lose them. i didn’t know if i was alive or dead, asleep or awake, i just shot anything that moved, trusted no one and tried to make it to the next sunrise… and yes, thats where you come into the picture and … i guess, now i’m here.”

“well … hell of a time you’ve had.” hosea finally spoke, his sympathetic gaze surprisingly comforting. when he reached out and cupped his hands on her own, she didn’t resist. “you can let your guard down y/n, you’ll be safe here for however long you need. i assure you, we hate those o’driscolls just as much as you do. for every one of those fools shot dead the dirt beneath us gains another worm!” to this, he chuckled to himself, y/n even letting out a small giggle.

dutch joined in with his deep laugh, “oh yes, you will fit in just fine here miss.” he stood up and gestured to the camp behind him, now full of activity. “this gang can be your home now, we’re all misfits and outlaws, once lost and then found again.”

he looked at her not with hoseas sympathy, but with eyes that assessed and schemed, invasive and sharp.

“yes, i think you’ll be just fine…”

#red dead 2 #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 x reader #red dead redemption 2 x reader #arthur morgan x reader #kieran duffy #dutch van der linde #dutch van der line x reader #rdr2 oneshots #rdr #rdr2 #read dead redemption

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thecuriousquest · 11 months

Text

Stripped

Yandere Shoto Todoroki x Reader

Warnings: Kidnapping, bondage, self harm, drugging, isolation, Stockholm Syndrome, blood, suicidal threats

Checkout my Master List here.

———————————————————————

Shoto takes everything from you, strips you of your life completely. He takes you away from your family, friends, hobbies, odd jobs just to afford rent and groceries, and mosh pits.

When the two tone haired man brings you to your “new home”, you aren’t the least bit grateful like he expects you to be. He wants you to live lavishly instead of in the run down area right next to the projects. It just isn’t safe for you. He can’t let you live like that anymore.

You want to throw up at the sight of your new room. It’s frilly and pink. There was no paint chipping off crusty walls. There was no stain right next to the door. There was no mattress that you bought for fifteen dollars with a funky cigarette smell. You missed all of these things about your old room because it was yours. You had gotten every last thing down to the barely working lamp beside your bed with a giant crack down the middle.

This is an actual nightmare, you think as your stomach churns.

You turn around to look at him with disgust plainly written on your face. Shoto takes you by your wrist and leads you to a tall and white wardrobe. Opening it, you see dresses, skirts, crop tops, sweaters, and babydoll nighties all in specific colors of blue, pink, purple, and white.

Your last bit of freedom in the form of the clothes on your body is completely taken away as he takes out a blue crop top and pink skirt for you to wear.

Black is your favorite color. Always has been, always will be. You tend to dress more punk. Misfits or Blood for Blood shirts and black jeans or baggy cargo pants with combat boots.

What he’s doing is seriously pissing you off. You can barely contain your rage as your nails dig into the palms of your clenched hands.

You know he’s stronger than you. He’s already proved it because you’re here.

He doesn’t leave as you change. He stands there, watching you with his arms crossed as he leans against the doorjamb, blocking your only exit.

You take off your shirt before removing your dirty sports bra that you haven’t been able to wash for a while due to not being able to afford laundry detergent. You clutch your bare chest, feeling utterly exposed.

You catch the corner of his lip pulling upwards, and you want to slap the smirk off of his face.

“Can’t you at least turn around?” You query. You want to tack on an insult, but you know he probably won’t oblige your request if you do. Politeness it is then.

He huffs a sigh. “No, you’re my girl. If I want to look at you, I will. Now, get out of those boy clothes and finish getting dressed.”

You scoff at his audacity. How dare he?

You try to turn around so that your bare tits aren’t facing him as you undo your black jeans, but he tsks at you.

“Face me. I want to see you. Every inch of you.”

With no choice, your pants fall to the floor, black boxer briefs following shortly after. You stand there with one hand clutching your sex and your forearm across your breasts. You lower your gaze to the floor, unwilling to look at him as he nears you.

Hands grasp both of your wrists and bring them down to your sides. Shoto inspects you before softly kissing your neck. Your eyes widen at his gentleness, but you don’t return the affection.

Shoto takes you by the hand to the bathroom so that he can bathe you in expensive shampoo, conditioner, and body wash. You come out smelling like flowers and peaches, and it makes you want to vomit. You don’t know where he obtained the skill, but he braids your H/C hair and removes the rest of your smudged makeup with a cleansing balm he got for you.

The mother fucker dresses you up like a little doll. That’s how you feel. Your black eyeshadow and mascara are gone. Your black clothes are gone. The clothes he picked out for you earlier adorn your body, and the urge to strike him becomes even more fierce.

Red and white hair shifts upon noticing you harming your palms. He opens your hand and sees that you’ve drawn blood. He tuts in disappointment and places his knuckle under your chin so you look up at him.

“Good girls don’t hurt themselves. You need to be a good girl for me and not do this anymore.”

Tears well up in your eyes as you glare at him. He’s so patronizing that it hurts your chest.

Shoto clips your nails in silence before washing your palms and cleaning them. He wraps white gauze around them and kisses your knuckles when he’s done.

There’s this nasty feeling inside of you that’s festering with every passing moment. It creates uneasiness and chaos to swirl within, like a raging beast looking for camouflaged prey.

——

You cling to the hope that someone will one day save you. A hero, a sidekick, a random salesman knocking on the door. Anyone. Hell, you’d listen to the ramblings of a Jehovah’s Witness if it meant saving you from this shit hole.

You try to ask Shoto for some privileges, like spending an hour by yourself once a day or going outside for fifteen minutes. He doesn’t oblige the first one, and he only lets you go outside if he’s there with you. What you want is time away from him, but you only get that when he’s working, and you have to spend that time chained to a fucking pink bed.

After countless arguments with him about needing some kind of freedom, you get so sick of it all that you end up punching a mirror and threatening to slit your wrists with the shards.

Blood covers your knuckles, but you can’t feel them with the amount of adrenaline coursing through you. Just then, a freezing pain bites at the skin of your hands before sinking deeply into your muscles. The ice stops at your finger tips. He plucks the shards from your hands and melts the ice with his other quirk.

You cry out in fury as he forces you into a fairly large closet. There’s only a blanket on the floor and a lightbulb.

“I didn’t think I’d have to use this room so soon, but since you want to act ungrateful, you’ll be punished for it.” He closes the door harshly, causing you to flinch. You hear him lock the door and walk away.

——

You have no idea how much time has passed being locked in here. There are no windows, no clocks. Just you and your endless imagination. After some time, being alone with your thoughts start to bore you, and that boredom starts to cascade into the beginnings of insanity.

Shoto visits you once a day to give you a vitamin, eggs and toast, and a glass of water. That’s your only meal for the entire day.

You think you start feeling dizzy from being underfed, but you don’t realize that it’s because he’s drugging you. He doesn’t want you pounding on the door, begging to be released. He wants you to stew in the uncomfortably warm closet. He wants you to sweat in the stuffiness and become grateful for everything he’s given you.

After thirty-eight days of keeping you like this, he notices a drastic change. When Shoto opens the door, he sees you completely zoned out, muttering to yourself about how you don’t want him to throw you away in the trash.

“Don’t wanna be bad…don’t wanna be thrown away…no trash puppy.”

He could laugh at your silliness. Trash puppy? You’re no trash puppy to him! You’re his love, forever and ever.

Shoto kneels down in front of you and makes you look at him. “Y/N, baby, I want you to understand that this is for your own good.”

You nod. “Own good.” You reach up to grab his face. “Miss you. Need you.” Your weak arms can’t stay up for too long. They fall limply to your sides, and you whine a bit for his touch. “Sho…please.”

——

Knowing you’ve had enough, he bathes you, dresses you, and feeds you a proper meal that isn’t drugged.

Now, whenever he tries to leave for work, you run to him. You throw your arms around him and beg him not to leave.

“I promise, I’ll be back. Sweetie, don’t cry. You’re going to get sick. You’re such a good girl. I love you.” He whispers these sweet words into your ear as he hugs you tightly.

“I love you too, Sho.”

When he’s not around, you pace the house, waiting for him to come back, filled to the brim with anxiety. You miss his small smile, the way he holds you, the way he picks out your clothes. You think of all the things you’re going to talk to him about, all the things you’re going to do with him when he gets home.

And he’s stripped you of the very last thing you have, your own mind.

#my hero acedamia #yandere #yandere shoto todoroki #shoto todoroki #mha shoto todoroki #shoto todoroki x reader #shoto todoroki x you #yandere shoto x reader #triggering content

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gabessquishytum · 3 months

Note

DILF Dream/College Athlete Hob

Dream is an active alumni and a sports booster for his alma mater - Orpheus goes to the school, but he's in the renowned music department.

It helps that Dream is rich, but he enjoyed his time at university and is happy to fundraise and work towards a more diverse and inclusive institution, on the alumni side (and the sports boosting keeps him from meddling in the music department ~ so Orpheus doesn't get mad at him.)

Hob plays rugby, on scholarship, so he's always attending booster events with a butterfly bandage holding an eyebrow cut closed or a busted lip, a little crusty with blood, and because he's on scholarship, his jackets aren't quite tailored enough, so he always looks one hand gesture away from busting his seams (Dream can't help but find it charming,,,,,,,,and wanting to get him better fitted clothes).

Hob loves looking at Mr. Endless( and imagining him letting Hob hold him up against a wall as he fucks into him.). The silver at his temples, the smile lines, DILF Alumni Endless is beautiful and is really nice to the students who have to work the events chatting with guests. And sometimes it looks like Mr. Endless is just as interested in Hob as Hob is in him.

But Hob is a student and Dream a rich alum, it would be wrong for them to get together. But god, the things Hob would do to, and with, that man.

Then Hob busts up his knee his last semester. Thankfully, he's already got into his grad school program and it didn’t rest on his rugby playing - 'cause he's not doing that anymore. He'll walk again, but playing a sport where he runs and sets himself up to be tackled......yeah, no more of that. Maybe when he's finally an alumn himself he can finally make that pass at Mr. Endless. (And unfortunately, the knee probably won't let him fuck Mr. Endless up against that wall anymore.)

AHHHH yes I love it <3

Imagine Hob’s first alumn event after he finishes his grad programme!! He's a few months into a brilliant job as a sports journalist for a big broadcaster, and although he's definitely not having a lecture theatre named after him, he's happy to make a small donation and show up to encourage the bright young students. And maybe also to oogle Mr Endless.

And Dream is definitely oogling in return. Hob’s suit is a lot nicer now, and he looks very distinguished with his fancy cane. He's a bit softer around the edges but his rugby playing physique is still extremely worth staring at. Dream stares plenty... until Hob sidles right up to him with a grin and a wink.

They chat about Hob’s blossoming career, and about how Orpheus is getting on so well too, but the whole time Hob’s heart is beating fast because he thinks he might actually have a chance! Mr Endless has more silver flecked through his hair than ever, and frankly Hob would risk his bad knee by grovelling in a bathroom stall and worshipping Dream’s undoubtedly gorgeous cock.

Mr Endless would never allow such a thing. After the event is over he fully intends to whisk Hob off to the fanciest hotel in the area. He's a gentleman, and he thinks that Hob deserves to be wined and dined. After all he's been the star of Dream’s fantasies for a while now - he deserves some kind of reward.

If Dream can get him sweating, bruised and maybe with his lips swollen, just for old times sake... he'll be a very happy man.

#the sandman #dreamling #nsft #cw age gap

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froody · 10 months

Note

Tommy. Tell me about her. What wisdom does she hold?

She was born in the rafters of an abandoned barn one day in early May of 2017. She and her siblings had not yet opened their eyes when her mother decided to move her babies to the abandoned house about 50 yards from the barn. It was a grueling task. Tommy waited for her turn, sightless, helpless and so tiny. Her mother never returned for her. She abandoned her to die in that barn. It’s not an unusual thing for a feral cat to do. 80% of kittens born in feral colonies die before the age of 1. Tommy was so sick. She didn’t look like a normal kitten and she never would. Perhaps her mother knew she could not save her on her own. Perhaps her mother was young and sick herself and only had the strength for the other kittens. Either way, she left her.

Tommy’s digestive system was in tatters. She had multiple parasites. She was dehydrated. She still had the strength to scream, she always has, and she did. My father found her, got her down, took her to the vet. She opened her eyes later that week. She had to be bottle fed. It took several courses of antibiotics and anti-parasitics to get her back on track. She fought so valiantly. She always had an appetite as a kitten, no matter what was going on in her insides. She was so screamy. She loved to be held, loved to run up to the door every time you opened it.

Her struggles have never really stopped. She’s brachycephalic, she sneezes and wheezes, her sinuses are deformed, her eyes are crusty. She’s 6 now. My mom’s dog broke her jaw when she was about 2 and my mother rushed her to the emergency vet to get jr wired back together. Didn’t tell me what happened to my cat until I got home from high school that day. Last year I found Tommy in obvious distress, weak and drooling blood. I took her to the emergency vet and they found evidence of previously undiagnosed stomatitis and more pressingly, a mass on her jaw. Biopsy showed it wasn’t cancerous, it was an inflammatory reaction to her back teeth. She needed surgery to remove some of her severely deformed teeth and the bleeding painful mass.

She was out on steroids for the stomatitis for a few month. She didn’t seem to be getting better. She was dropping weight. Initially I thought it was just her mouth pain but I took her to the vet anyway. She was diagnosed with diabetes and sent home. The two days later she had an episode of hyperglycemia so severe I didn’t think she’d survive the night. She spent a week in the cat ICU.

Right now she’s regained her weight. She’s chilling at the edge of my bed. She’s snoring in her sleep.

She’s taught me a very important lesson. Don’t give up. Her constant and remarkably passionate fight for survival keeps me going. Her odds have always been so slim and yet she doesn’t know it or simply doesn’t care. She always has zest for life but in the most sinister cartoon cat villain way possible. I’ve always wanted to give up on myself and she’s never wanted to give up on herself. It doesn’t cross her mind.

#ask #Tommy

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bvidzsoo · 9 months

Text

Nowhere we won’t go

Author: bvidzsoo

Warning: violence, murder, blood, some swearing

Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x female reader

Word count: 27, 401

Summary: Life had mysterious ways of working, and it took you off guard when you lost your best friend to a ruthless criminal. No one knew who did it, the whole town was in terror. However, it didn’t stop there, more people were dying and your suspicions of the murderer started raising. Could it really be your boyfriend?

A/N: Hiii lovelies! I’m back from the dead lol. College always takes a tool on me, so I barely have inspiration to write nowadays. I watched Scream lol and this oneshot came into fruition. Ofc it’s heavily inspired by the movie so don’t come at me, but I tried to be original still. I might be a little rusty crusty dusty, but I hope it’s not that noticeable. Please leave feedback, you know I love it and I hope everyone enjoys this! Happy reading!

This morning wasn’t any different compared to other mornings. The sun was slowly rising, beaming down on our little borough and letting its rays spread some well needed warmth as autumn has approached, coating the town in a grey fog as a result of daily rain. I missed the summer days, when the temperatures were high and I was carefree and able to spend my time doing what I liked. School takes up a large amount of effort and energy, and sometimes, I’m drained by the end of the day. I am conscious that going to school is crucial as it’s supposed to educate us and develop us into mature and smart young adults, ready to pursue our dreams and goals once we’re out of high-school, but most of times it’s just a buzzkill. The teachers are always dull and mean to us, as if they hate us for being in their classes, and most things we learn seem useless once we have stepped out into the real world. I like studying, but I am not desperate, and find myself spending my time doing something else quite often. This has always been an issue with my mom, as she’s a hardworking nurse and stern woman, only expecting and accepting perfection. But we got past our differences a few years ago and now, if I get good grades, she allows me to do whatever I like on the weekends. When I was young, I was supposed to attend various activities which my mother enjoyed while she was young, like: swimming and ballet classes. I have always hated ballet; it gave me bad ankle and toe aches making me unable to get out of bed on some lamentable days. But my mother wouldn’t accept my whining and forced me to continue ballet, only allowing me to stop when I told her I had no interest in being a ballerina. That was three years ago. Mom was quite disappointed but when I told her I wanted to take up some drawing and painting classes, reluctantly, but at last she agreed. Now, I can see myself being an artist, attending a prestige arts college. I only have to convince my mother at this point to oblige to my wish. I don’t know how I’m going to do that, but I’ve still got two years to come up with a good solution. Perhaps if Wonwoo and I can go to the same college she’ll let me be. Wonwoo, my boyfriend, is someone who my mother adores. She’s loved him from the very first moment they have met. He’s soft spoken and kind, a little withdrawn, but nonetheless friendly once he opens up to you. We’ve known each other since we were kids as we’ve been living on the same street for our whole lives, but our romance only began in high-school, last year. It took us some time to mature and notice each other finally, but when it happened, I couldn’t have been happier. He was so attentive to me, always listening closely to what I had to say. He made me laugh and smile, sometimes even without trying to, and filled my heart with warmth I didn’t know was even possible. I found a confidant and friend in him, someone whom I could love freely and carelessly, never doubtful or uncertain of his intentions. Wonwoo was direct and honest from the get go and it made me like him even more. We had our ups and downs, just as any couple, but managed to work them out and move forward as a stronger couple. He had moments when I couldn’t understand him, questioning whether I was imagining his lack of empathy or he really lacked of it, but never thought too hard about it. After all, both of us were enamored with each other, living under our pink cloud as any newly formed couple.

I had dressed up after waking up, realizing I needed to hurry up if I wanted to catch the bus, mom had a nightshift and wouldn’t be driving me to school today. I could smell bacon and eggs wafting through the downstairs as I descended the stairs, headed for the kitchen. My mother was still in her nurse uniform, her blonde hair pulled in a tight bun as she placed the fried bacon on a plate next to the already done eggs.

“Good morning, mom.” I greeted her with a smile and she turned around, dark bags under her eyes as she returned a smile.

“Good morning, slept well?” She asked as she handed me the plate which I took eagerly. I didn’t have dinner last night as I was too lazy to cook something and my stomach was screaming at me right now to fill it with something.

“Yes, although the storm did wake me up…” I trailed off as mom hummed, sipping some orange juice as she sat down opposite of me.

“It was quite bad; the wind tore a few trees out around the hospital.” She said and I hummed in surprise, not having thought the storm was actually that bad. My mom looked behind me with furrowed eyebrows as she quickly went to grab the remote control. I was just chewing on my breakfast as she turned the volume up of the TV behind me, making me turn around to see what has caused such interest in my mom suddenly. However, the words of the reporter made me drop my fork.

“Breaking News.” Her voice was loud and clear, eyebrows furrowed as she stood in front of a white house, “Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. Trees getting torn out of the ground during last night’s storm wasn’t the only unfortunate thing to happen. It has come to our attention, that a beloved citizen of our serene city has been murdered in cold blood last night during the storm. Her name is Myoi Mina and she was a student at Primrose High-School. Not much is known as of now about her death, the police are still investigating the crime scene, however, I managed to find out before going live, that she’d been stabbed in the chest three times and suffered a fatal trauma to her head. I offer my sincere condolences to everyone who knew her. Stay tuned for more news about the terrific death of Myoi Mina, a bright girl who will never be forgotten. I am Park Sooyoung and you’ve been watching Prime News.”

For a second the world went quiet around me as I continued staring at the TV with my mouth open in shock. If it weren’t for my mother calling out my name, I probably would have stayed longer in that trance.

“Honey!” Her voice rose an octave and suddenly I felt her gripping my hand, eyes searching mine.

“Mom—” I managed to whisper as she pulled me into a hug, offering me support. I couldn’t believe what I had just heard. Mina…dead? How is that possible? Who would do that to her? We weren’t friends, but as we go to the same high-school we’ve known each other. She was always bright, and friendly, just as the reporter has said. Who would want to take away her life? When she was so innocent—oh, poor Wonwoo. If I was this affected by the news, I couldn’t imagine what he was going through. They had been exes and despite a tumultuous relationship, they managed to figure things out and stay somewhat friendly with each other after their breakup. Still, she was a person he once had loved and I would totally understand if he needed time to sort his thoughts out.

“Honey, are you alright?” My mom whispered and I lightly nodded, pulling away from the hug. I wasn’t very alright, confusion and fear meshing together, but I needed to stay strong. For Wonwoo, probably.

“Yes, just very…shocked.” I answered mom and she nodded; eyebrows downturned as she understood my feelings.

“It’s going to be fine. The one responsible for this will be found and held responsible for their actions, don’t be afraid.” Mom tried to cheer me up and offer some security, but it didn’t do much. However, I did appreciate her attempt.

“You’re right.” I tried to give her a smile, but I wasn’t able to.

“Let me drive you to school today—”

“No, don’t worry! I am fine, really. You look very tired, just go get some sleep. The bus is coming in five minutes.” I reassured her and got up from my seat, appetite gone as I quickly filled my water bottle with some orange juice.

“You’re sure?” Mom raised her eyebrows and I nodded, going up to her and kissing her cheek.

“Go rest, mom.” She hummed and patted my head before I hurried into the hallway to pull on my shoes and take on my coat. I opened the front door and took my keys, locking it once I was out of the house. Just as I walked down my porch the bus approached and I got on it, noticing the silence and somber faces of the rest of the students on it. Today was a grey day and nobody could deny it.

My first task after getting off the bus was to find Wonwoo and check up on him. I kept biting my lip nervously as I looked around the halls, even going up to his locker. He was nowhere to be found and it made me even more nervous. I walked up to his classroom and peeked inside, but his usual seat was empty, not even his bag was there yet. Classes would start in ten minutes and I was panicking, about to grab my phone to call him, when I realized I hadn’t checked one place yet. The spot designated for the students to park their bikes and motorbikes. Of course he’d be there, why hadn’t I thought about that earlier?!

I ran down the hallways and finally exited the school, beelining it for the parking lot. Nobody was laughing this morning, people whispering amongst them, some even crying. Mina’s closest friends weren’t even seen at school, I understood why. I greeted a classmate of mine in a rush as I passed by him, he had just gotten out of his car and was taken aback by my presence, but by the time he greeted me back I was already facing the motorbikes parked in the corner. And there he was, Wonwoo, dressed in all black, his helmet in his hands as he got off his bike. His black hair was badly ruffled as he hadn’t run his fingers through his hair yet, and I suddenly took off, running towards my boyfriend. He had placed the helmet where he was sitting just seconds ago when I crashed into his back, hugging him from behind. I rested my cheek against his shoulder as I squeezed my arms tightly around his middle, making Wonwoo let out a surprised gasp.

“Hey, there, sugar.” He chuckled and my eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Just as I pulled my head away from his shoulder he turned around in my embrace and hugged me back, just as strongly as I had hugged him. He was crushing me, but I didn’t care.

“Wonwoo—” I managed to mutter out as I wiggled out of his embrace, torso aching in certain spots, “Are you alright?”

Wonwoo��s eyebrows furrowed as he ran his fingers through my short hair, resting his hand on my nape, “Why wouldn’t I be alright?”

I became even more confused at Wonwoo’s words, searching his face for some sort of tell, but there was none, “Well…did you not hear?”

I decided to feel around, scared that I had to be the one to tell him. It would break me seeing him in pain.

“Hear what?” Wonwoo asked confused, his thumb rubbing my jugular, it was slightly distracting.

“Oh, well—” I cleared my throat and licked my lips, “Mina—”

“Oh, that.” Wonwoo muttered and looked down, his grip slightly tightening on my nape, but I said nothing as I watched his expression. He seemed unphased almost, like he wanted to look sad but it wasn’t working. My eyebrows furrowed when Wonwoo sniffed, yet there were no tears in his eyes. He clearly wasn’t alright, and I felt horrible for even reminding him of her death.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“Why are you sorry, did you kill her?” He suddenly looked up and his sharp eyes were piercing into mine, and I suddenly stuttered before shutting my lips. What? He looked so…cold. As if he didn’t care at all.

“No, I just—”

“Y/N,” He grabbed both of my cheeks with his hands and pulled me into him, our foreheads almost touching, “You are the love of my life and whatever happened to Mina…she had it coming.”

I couldn’t believe my ears, and my eyebrows furrowed as I looked at Wonwoo with even more confusion. He didn’t actually mean that, right? How could he…he cared for her once.

“She was murdered, Wonwoo.” I whispered; my voice almost trembling. Wonwoo sighed and swiftly kissed my forehead, but it didn’t reassure me like it usually did, no, it made a chill run down my spine.

“I know, but she cheated on me multiple times, sugar, I do not care what has happened to her.” Wonwoo’s voice was sinister, almost gloating if I hadn’t known him better, “But she deserves it.”

My mouth opened in a gasp as I shook my head, refusing to comprehend the words which were leaving his lips, but also shocked and trying to process what he could really mean by saying that. But before I could voice my thoughts, his warm lips were pressing against mine softly, our noses touching. His was cold as it was really windy outside and I pulled back from the kiss, opening my eyes to gaze into his. I couldn’t read what he was feeling, his face expressionless and somehow so cold.

“I love you.” Wonwoo muttered before he let go of me and stepped back, grabbing his helmet off his motorbike. I watched him as he grabbed his backpack as well, trying to go over what has happened in the last few minutes, realizing this was just probably Wonwoo’s way of processing the traumatic news of last night’s happening. I knew deep down he was feeling miserable, he just didn’t want to show it in order to not worry me even more. I felt sympathetic for him and as he looked at me, it shocked me how much hatred was behind his irises, but it was gone just as quickly as it came, and it made me wonder if I had started seeing things. The news must be affecting me real bad if I couldn’t decide anymore what my boyfriend’s reactions meant.

Today was grim. Everyone’s mood was bad and students almost whispered to each other despite it being our long break. Myoi Mina’s death has affected all of us, it was obvious. Everyone seemed to hold some sadness in their eyes and somehow they seemed to be more sympathetic towards fellow students. Even the teachers tried to be nicer to us. An hour ago we held a memorial for Myoi Mina at the football field of our high-school and once we were dismissed we quickly hurried back to our classrooms as the wind started picking up once again. The weather seemed to worsen as we reached noon and currently we were bundled up in the cafeteria, trying to enjoy our lunches. However, I found it rather hard to swallow the mashed potatoes as I overheard the girls next to our table talking about Mina’s brutal murder. I found the topic insensible and rude to talk about, especially since they seemed to be giggling about it from time to time, wondering whether the criminal looked hot or not. Kim Yerim, my best friend, seemed to have had enough as well as she slammed her fork down against the table, the loud sound catching those girls’ attention.

“Listen here, insensible cunts, if you want to gossip about that poor girl’s terrible death and fantasize about a murderer, go do it in your bedrooms and not in the cafeteria where everyone can hear you and realize just how fucking stupid you are!” Yerim’s words were harsh, always having been a brutally honest person, and it caught the attention of a few more students around us who seemed to be agreeing with her as they shot nasty glares at the gossiping girls. They seemed to be offended and one even gasped as she stood up, causing an unnecessary scene.

“How dare you call us—insensible cunts?!” Her voice rose and Yeri scoffed, giving her an amused grin.

“I was merely telling the truth, sweetheart.” Yerim answered back and I turned my head to look at the girl who was very pathetically gasping for air.

“I think everyone around us knows by now that you just want your five-minute fame, so settle down before you embarrass yourself furthermore.” I spoke up, trying to ease up the tension, but I figured I only did worse by saying that. The girl’s friend gasped loudly and both were standing up now, looking down at Yerim and I as if we were some monsters.

“Look who’s talking about fame, Y/N.” The second friend, who was blonde and had a pixie cut, looked at me maliciously, “Aren’t you the one dating Myoi Mina’s ex?”

Yerim and I glanced at each other, not understanding the correlation here, “I am, and so what about that?”

“Ah, look at her talk about fame,” The first one who caused this scene mocked, she had jet black eyes, “You’re acting as if you’re an angel when it’s because of you Wonwoo and Mina broke up. Did you know he cheated on her with you?”

I gulped, feeling the eyes of many students on me. This information was wrong, merely a gossip Mina spread around after she found out Wonwoo started going out with me out of jealousy. It didn’t last for long, the gossip, because a week later Mina and I talked and cleared things up. I held no harsh feelings against her and she apologized, realizing how foolish she was, and promised to make things right.

“That’s not true.” I said as I glared at the two girls, “Mina spread that rumor around out of jealousy—”

“Are you seriously bad-mouthing a dead person right now?!” The blonde one exclaimed in outrage and I couldn’t believe my ears. Suddenly I was the bad guy when I just wanted to protect someone who couldn’t do it anymore themselves. I could hear my ears ringing and my jaw clenched as I glared at the two. Yerim was just as appealed as I was and she slowly stood up, expression menacing.

“Look who’s playing the victim now.” Yerim chuckled and went around her chair, oh no, this was going to be bad. I stood up and grabbed my friend’s arm, knowing she’d get physical if no one was there to restrict her. Yerim always struggled with her anger issues, but when someone was disrespected she couldn’t help it, she saw red. I glanced around and gulped nervously, too many people were watching us now. And they were whispering too. I didn’t want this. Today out of all days this was so unnecessary.

“Yerim—” I spoke up, but before any of us could say anything else, Wonwoo and Soonyoung, his best friend, approached our table, each holding a tray full with food.

“What’s your problem, Hyuna?” Wonwoo snapped, blazing eyes glaring at the girl with the pixie cut, “Are you letting out your frustration on Y/N now that Mina’s gone? What? Are you going to beg me soon to leave Y/N for you?! Just like you did when I was dating Mina?”

My mouth fell open as Yerim and I looked at each other shocked, and even the students who were fully watching the commotion now, seemed surprised. The blonde one, Hyuna, turned red in the face and she gasped, looking at Wonwoo with her mouth gaping.

“That’s—that’s not—” She stuttered, shrinking under Wonwoo’s harsh glare, “That’s not what I was doing!”

“But you were speaking poorly of a dead girl.” Wonwoo said nonchalantly and Hyuna gulped as her friend took her hand and started pulling her away. I think they realized they have embarrassed themselves enough. Soonyoung started cackling as everyone watched the two girls basically run out of the cafeteria and he had the audacity to shout after them, “Look, Hyuna! I’m still available!”

His words elicited laughter from many students as they called Hyuna pathetic and everyone slowly went back to their lunch, Yerim and I long forgotten as we both sat down with Wonwoo and Soonyoung now having joined us. Wonwoo sat next to me and he kissed my cheek as I offered him a small smile, checking his face for any reaction. Perhaps a change of heart since the morning. But he still looked…fine, uncaring. Sooyoung, to Yerim’s dismay, sat next to her and she quietly sighed when he leaned close to her and whispered something, making her push his face away. Sooyoung giggled and I glanced at him, observing his attitude too. He looked like himself, as if Mina didn’t die, as if Mina and him didn’t even know each other.

“How are you feeling, Soonyoung?” I found myself asking my boyfriend’s best friend, curious.

Soonyoung looked up just as he stuffed his face with a chicken wing and grinned, “Quite well, thank you!”

Wonwoo cleared his throat next to me and I glanced at him briefly, but he was staring at Soonyoung quite coldly, “Oh—I mean, quite well despite the shocking news…I mean, how terrible, isn’t it?”

Yerim glanced at Wonwoo before she looked at Soonyoung and her eyes narrowed at the blonde, “At least you could try sounding more genuine next time, Soonyoung.” She emphasized his name as she gave him a glare. Yerim has never been fond of Soonyoung, she found him obnoxious, loud, dumb and overbearing. Despite Soonyoung’s efforts to get her to like him, she refused to spend any time with him if Wonwoo and I weren’t there.

“Yeah, you knew her quite well…” I found myself mumbling to no one in particular as I ate my lunch, but it seemed like everyone from our table heard me. Yerim nodded along. It was weird seeing the two boys so uncaring towards Myoi Mina’s death, after all, Soonyoung was the one who introduced Mina to Wonwoo.

“Oh, come on.” Soonyoung scoffed and leaned back in his seat, an irritated smirk crossing his lips, “That bitch whined all the time if something didn’t go her way. She didn’t let anyone breathe around her unless they first pleased her and my God—if Wonwoo wasn’t with her it was the end of the world, and if Wonwoo was there—why was he showing her no affection?!”

Wonwoo placed his fork down and placed his elbows on the table, leaning forward and placing his chin on his knuckles, “Thank you for you input, Soonyoung, although I’d like to enjoy my lunch without hearing about my ex-girlfriend’s death…again.”

It was the most emotion Wonwoo had shown all day and I grabbed his hand, squeezing it and offering him a small smile. He looked at me, seemingly still pissed off at Soonyoung, but offered me a small smile back. Yerim was silent as she watched the two boys before shaking her head and taking a sip from her glass of water. I knew how she felt about them, she never liked them too much, but they were good boys. A bit odd, but well-intended.

“Fine,” Soonyoung muttered displeased as he took another chicken wing, eyeing Yerim from the corner of his eyes, “but the bitch deserved it.”

“Excuse me?!” It was Yerim who was appealed this time, her reaction being the same as mine when Wonwoo said it. She just reacted stronger than I had. I was quite speechless, she rarely was.

“Nothing.” Soonyoung smiled sweetly at my best friend and I could feel my heartbeat pick up when Wonwoo’s tongue poked his cheek from the inside of his mouth, a clear sign he was getting angry. I looked at him, but he was glaring daggers at Soonyoung. Thinking quickly, I looked down at his plate and touched his thigh, trying to get his attention.

“You don’t like chicken wings,” I said with a smile as I pointed at my plate, “You can take my fried cheese.”

Wonwoo’s attention was back on me and his eyebrows furrowed, “You don’t look chicken wings either—”

“Don’t worry, I’m full already.” I smiled, I wasn’t full, in fact. But they were probably out of fried cheese and Wonwoo was quite particular about what he ate. I didn’t want him to be hungry until we got home.

“How sweet,” Soonyoung cooed from the other end of the table and both Wonwoo and I glanced at him, “She’s so caring, Won, don’t you just love her?”

He sounded quite mocking and I sighed, starting to get fed up with Soonyoung. I had no idea what his problem was today, but I didn’t enjoy being around him anymore. Wonwoo sensed my discomfort and shook his head at Soonyoung.

“Yes, I love her.” Soonyoung grinned widely and chuckled, shaking his head. He looked at Yerim and reached out for her hand, but she quickly took it off the table and gave him a glare.

“Don’t you want us to be sweet like them?” Soonyoung blinked cutely at Yerim, leaning closer to her, “How about—we go out on a date tonight?”

“Soonyoung,” Yerim scoffed and leaned closer, smirking at him, “For the nth time—no. I don’t like you and I will never date you. Stop being so fucking obnoxious all the time, thanks.”

Soonyoung tsked and shook his head, “You’re gonna get killed one day for talking like that to me.”

His words were barely audible but both Yerim and I caught it. Our heads whipped in his direction and he looked up innocently, blinking at us confusedly, “What?”

“Soonyoung, come to the wending machine.” Wonwoo abruptly stood up and smiled at his friend, however it didn’t reach his eyes, “Now.”

Wonwoo became demanding once Soonyoung made no sign of wanting to move and the blonde just sighed before getting up slowly, winking at Yerim before walking up to Wonwoo. Wonwoo swiftly grabbed his nape and pulled him away from us, making Soonyoung exclaim in annoyance. Yerim turned to look at me and I sighed, eating some more of my mashed potatoes.

“What is wrong with them?!” She whisper snapped as she watched me. I shrugged and ignored my friend, not wanting to think too deeply of what’s happened the past few minutes. Wonwoo was weird all day, but he’s been even weirder ever since they sat down to have lunch with us. Soonyoung’s words were even more unsettling and my head was a mess currently, I didn’t want Yerim questioning everything as well.

“Nothing.” I muttered back, head lowered as I tried to eat some more. Wonwoo took the fried cheese I gave him and I pushed the chicken wings to the side of my plate, I really hated them.

“You’ve got to be kidding me, Y/N.” Yerim snapped and grabbed my elbow, making me look at her, “Something is very wrong with Soonyoung and we both know it. He’s giving me the creeps now more than ever before. Did you hear the things he was saying about Mina? How is that alright? How could he even think them and then say them—”

“I don’t know.” I snapped, getting pissed, “And I don’t want to know. This whole situation scares me and I’m not taking it well, okay? Everyone is talking about it and it’s making me lose my mind. I’m scared, okay? Can you at least, please, just drop it?!”

Yerim looked down and released my elbow, feeling bad for bringing this up again. I had already told her in the morning how scared I was of this whole ordeal, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you more. I just noticed things and wanted to tell you, because Wonwoo’s been weird too. He has always been, but today out of all days…he’s too quiet.”

“Wonwoo’s always quiet.” I chuckled and Yerim rolled her eyes.

“Not like this, you know what I mean…” She deadpanned and I huffed, turning back towards my plate.

“Whatever, you’re just being paranoid.”

“I’d rather be paranoid than dead.” Yerim muttered and I groaned, nudging her leg with mine underneath the desk. She giggled and started stealing the chicken wings off my plate as she glanced back, “I’ll take these before Soonyoung gets back and asks for them.”

I giggled and nodded at her, offering her my whole plate. I wasn’t full, but my appetite was long gone. I just wanted to be close to Wonwoo right now.

I pulled the curtain to the side as I peeked out the window, eyebrows furrowing at the strike of lightning. The weather was horrible once again. It’s been raining almost the whole week. Mina’s murder was still fresh in everyone’s minds and people were cautious. It’s been three days only, after all. Today was her funeral and it was really sad. Many people showed up, although I preferred to stand towards the back, Wonwoo went ahead and offered his condolences to her parents who burst out in tears once they saw him. It made me realize how well liked Wonwoo was by the parents and elders in our town. He truly had a good soul and it was hard not to love him. My mother was working the night shift again tonight and as I didn’t feel comfortable staying home alone yet, Yerim and I agreed to have a sleepover tonight, however, she was still at the pool. She was a professional swimmer and she’s been training hard for the past half year for the upcoming national competition her team was to attend. I watched as the lighting struck again and waited for Yerim to pick up as my phone continued ringing. There was a chance she was still in the water, but I was hoping she wasn’t. We were supposed to meet half an hour ago, but she was running late.

“Hi!” Suddenly Yerim picked up and I smiled, closing the curtain, “Sorry, coach extended today’s training.”

She sounded breathless, “I figured, don’t worry. I still have some things to pack; do you want me to pick up pizza on my way to you?”

“Oh, pizza!” Yerim giggled and I heard someone shouting in the background for her, “One second coach—I’m supposed to be on a diet, Y/N, but sure.”

“Okay, one pepperoni pizza it is, then.” We both giggled.

“Wait—wasn’t I supposed to pick you up though?” Yerim asked and I went to my closet to take out my pajamas.

“You were, but since you’re running late I’ll drive myself, don’t worry.” The pool was a bit further from my house and I knew she was usually tired after practices; I didn’t want to burden her more.

“Thank you! See you!” I greeted her back before Yerim hung up and I finished packing the essentials before dressing up in my comfy sweater. It was actually Wonwoo’s but he gave it to me after I told him I liked the fabric of it. His cologne still lingered on it and I smiled as I nuzzled my nose against the collar of the black sweater. When he’d come over, every once in a while, he’d bring his cologne with him and spray it on the sweaters which were once his, so that I could feel him close to me even if he wasn’t here. It was a sweet gesture and it still brought butterflies to my stomach. There was another lightning strike and the thunder followed instantly, making me yelp at the loud rumble of it. My cat meowed loudly from the hallway and I opened my door, beckoning her over with a pout. She hated storms just as much as I did.

“Come, Byeol, this weather is driving me crazy.” She meowed back as if she understood me and jumped into my arms once I kneeled down to hold her. She nuzzled her head against my chin and I giggled, starting to pet her. She was a black cat with light green eyes which sparkled like stars, hence her name, Byeol. Mom bought her for me five years ago when I started complaining about being scared when she’d have her night shifts. I hated staying home alone at night until I got Byeol. She brought a sense of security with her and it made me appreciate her even more.

“I’m sorry for leaving you alone tonight, Byeol, you won’t be too mad at me, right?” I whispered at my cat as I played with her ears, she was purring loudly, “Mom will be back by five in the morning, so you won’t be staying alone for too long.”

Byeol meowed loudly and I chuckled kissing her head before placing her down on the floor gently and standing up to grab the charger of my phone, which I almost forgot to pack. I looked around the room and mentally checked off everything from my imaginary list of what I had to bring with myself to Yerim’s and picked up my backpack, making kissy faces at Byeol. She followed after me as I turned off the light in my room and walked down the hallway, headed for the stairs, when my phone suddenly started ringing. I looked down at the caller and saw Yerim was calling me, maybe she changed her mind about that peperoni pizza.

“Hi, Yerim—”

“Y/N!” Her voice was panicked and I stopped in my tracks, right at the top of the stairs, “Someone’s—following me!”

My eyebrows furrowed in confusion, this was out of character for Yerim, “What? I don’t understand—what’s happening?!”

“I’m at the pool—” There was a loud crash and Yerim gasped, “I’m scared—a masked man—they are following me—”

“Yerim, are you being serious?!” My heart picked up as I raced down the stairs, backpack long forgotten as Byeol looked at me confused.

“Yes!” She exclaimed and she started whimpering, making my hands tremble, “They have a knife, Y/N!”

I could barely pull on my tennis shoes when I heard her words, “Hide!”

“I’m in the locker room but I couldn’t find the keys—” There was a loud bang and a sob left Yerim’s lips, bringing tears to my eyes.

“I’m on my way, I’m calling the police—”

“Don’t hang up, please!” Yerim was crying and I was shaking so badly that I could barely grab my keys.

“Yerim, I have to—” I was cut off by Yerim’s scream.

“No! No, stop! Please!”

“Yerim!” I screamed as I slammed the front door shut and struggled to lock it. I sprinted towards my car, ignoring the cold raindrops crashing against the pavement and myself, “Yerim, are you there—”

But another scream cut me off and I started crying, feeling helpless as I listened to my friend’s painful sobs. Just as I reached my car and unlocked it, the line went dead and I panicked even more, hands trembling so hard I could barely dial 112.

“112 what’s your emergency—”

“Please, I think someone’s murdering my friend! She’s at the pool on Wellington’s street, nr. 18. Please! Help her!”

“Ma’am, calm down, can you tell us your name?” The woman on the other side of the phone tried to calm me down, but I couldn’t hear her words. I had to get to Yerim before it was too late. I had already started my car and was pulling out of the garage as I started rambling mindlessly about where Yerim was and that they had to get to her right now.

“Ma’am, calm down and tell us your name.” The woman tried again and I wiped my tears away as I speed down the streets.

“My name is not important! Get to my friend! Her name is Kim Yerim for fucks sake!” I screamed as I rushed past a red light, barely avoiding getting hit. I didn’t care what happened, I only had Yerim in mind, I had to get to her. No, this couldn’t be happening. She’s playing a sick prank on me, she must be. Otherwise…no. No. No. It’s not the murdered. No. They aren’t targeting her, she’s probably just playing around—I slammed on the brakes when I saw someone crossing the road, screaming at them to get the hell away as I started driving again.

“Ma’am, where are you right now?” Suddenly, I heard the woman’s voice through my phone, forgetting I hadn’t hung up.

“In the car, I have to get to my friend.”

“You can’t drive in the state you are—”

“What do you know about that!” I snapped and took a harsh left turn, realizing I was just two blocks away.

“Ma’am, officers are already at the scene, your friend is safe.” The woman tried to calm me down but I shook my head.

“I’ll believe that when I see her with my own eyes.” I reached over and hung up, pulling up to the building as the flashing lights of police cars blinded me for a second. I parked the car and got out without turning the engine off, uncaring of the rain which drenched me in seconds, as I ran towards two officers who were just getting out of their cars.

“My friend—where is she?!” I asked breathless, but they just looked at each other and I didn’t wait for their answers, I pushed past them and ran inside the building. There were more police officers and I saw the entrance to the pool being tapped off, and I instantly knew. Something inside my stomach dropped. I heard nothing and I saw nothing. I had to know. I couldn’t just stand there and wait for the news to be delivered to me. So when three police officers noticed me and demandingly told me I had to leave, I pushed past them and sprinted to the doors leading inside the pool. They were already opened, and I could see everything. The blood. All over the floor, coloring the water. And I could see her. Face down. Floating in the water. Her black hair sprawled out around her. Her favorite swimming suit still on. My ears were ringing and my heart was thumping so fast I started seeing black. I couldn’t hear anything. I felt cold hands gripping my arms, but I couldn’t move. It’s like I was there, but I wasn’t. My hearing only came back when I found myself screaming her name and trashing around in the firm hold of the officers, who were pulling me away from the scene.

“No! Stop!” I screamed, sobbing loudly as I tried to fight them off still, “That’s my best friend! I need to see her! I need to be there for her! Don’t you understand?!”

“Bring her to the ambulance, give her a sedative.” I heard one officer say and I started shaking my head as my body went slack and I could only cry.

“But Yerim—” Suddenly I felt myself being lifted in someone’s arms and I curled into the person, crying loudly.

“It will be alright, miss, cry as much as you need.” A man, with a comforting voice, said reassuringly as I was outside again, the rain still pouring hard. I felt us running until the rain wasn’t hitting me anymore and I was sat inside an ambulance.

“Please—” I whispered, grabbing the officer’s hand as he went to pull away, “Save her.”

I saw sorrow in his eyes, as if he knew something I didn’t, as if he understood something I refused to believe in, “We will try our best, miss. Can you promise me you’ll stay here?”

I nodded and wiped my tears away, but new ones came rushing down my cheeks. I was cold. My body was shaking. I hugged myself and curled up into a ball as I tried to comfort myself, but nothing could bring comfort right now. I started mumbling, it was okay. Everything was okay. That wasn’t Yerim. Yerim was playing a prank on me. Yerim was hiding in the locker room and laughing her ass off, because she loved drama and attention. Yes, that is what was happening.

“Miss—miss—” I jumped when someone touched me and I grumbled at them to stay away from me, “Can you tell me your name?”

I didn’t want to talk, but when they asked me again, I snapped at them, “Kang Y/N!”

“Thank you,” The lady had a very calm voice and I felt her touch me again but I pulled my arm away, once again, “Can you tell me how old you are?”

“Why are you asking me all these questions?!” I snapped again, raising my voice, “You’re supposed to help my friend! Go help her!”

“I’m supposed to help you, Miss Kang—”

“No, because I’m fine—”

“Y/N?!” A familiar voice asked from behind the doctor lady and my eyebrows furrowed when I looked past her and came to see Soonyoung. Why was he here? What was he doing here?

“What?” I whispered confused, glancing back at the doctor who was preparing an injection and I started shaking again, “What are you doing with that?!”

The doctor said nothing as she sighed and walked closer, making Soonyoung protest as well, “Young man, stay out of this unless you want to be sedated as well.”

“Sedated?!” I exclaimed and went to stand up, but suddenly someone from behind held me down and I just realized I wasn’t sitting alone in the ambulance. I started trashing around, trying to free myself as the doctor was now standing right in front of me and I started crying once again when she started feeling around for my vein.

“Please go help my friend—” The doctor shushed me and I whimpered when the needle entered my skin, the doctor injecting the sedative inside my body.

“She’s in shock,” I heard her say as my muscles slowly started to loosen, as if they weren’t listening to me anymore, “She started calming down but you triggered her again, I’m asking you to step back and let her be.”

I realized she was talking to Soonyoung as I was laid down on the stretcher inside the ambulance and the doctor checked my eyes before nodding at someone. I was covered by a blanket and I sniffed as I continued crying quietly, my body feeling numb all of a sudden.

“You should rest now; everything will be alright.” I heard someone saying to me as I felt my eyelids get heavy and I tried shaking my head and telling them that I needed to be next to Yerim, but my mouth wouldn’t move.

“Can you let me stay with her? I’m her friend, I also knew Yerim.” I heard Soonyoung saying before he climbed inside the ambulance. Knew Yerim? Why in past tense? Yerim was fine, what was he talking about? Why is he here?

“It’ll be fine, Y/N.” I felt a hand patting my wet hair as my mind was slowly losing consciousness, “Yerim was a strong girl, but too stubborn for her own good. I just couldn’t help it…”

Before my brain could comprehend Soonyoung’s words, everything became black and I fell into a state of unconsciousness. Did I lose my best friend?

It was all so blurry. The past two weeks. Everything went by quickly, Yerim disappeared so suddenly. She was here, next to me, laughing and being excited about her up-coming tournament one moment, and the next…I watched her coffin being lowered into the cold, wet ground. I had no tears left to cry at her funeral, I could only watch with a blank stare as her coffin was slowly getting covered by the dirt, swallowing her forever, robbing her from me. I felt nothing. My skin was cold, I was shaking. It was a sunny day and everyone wore short sleeves, but I was wearing a long sleeve and a coat. I could hear the priest saying a prayer, Yerim’s mother weeping next to me and her husband gasping for air, but I couldn’t actually hear them. It was as if I was underwater. Yerim’s smiling framed picture, which I was clutching, was the only thing reminding me that I was at the funeral, present physically, but so far away mentally. Someone held my shoulder, but I couldn’t be bothered to check who it was, I just shook their touch off and stared blankly at Yerim’s tombstone. I read her name, her year of birth and day of death, and I broke. The priest had just finished talking, ceremony ended, when my body started shaking violently, sobs raking my whole being. My legs were weak, and my feet hurt from the high heels I only wore because Yerim loved them and complained I never wore them. The sun was suddenly so hot, the coat and long sleeve were suffocating me, I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t do this. I just couldn’t. Why did they kill her? What did she do? Why her? Why not me?! I knew my sobs turned into wailing and my feet gave up and suddenly, I was on my knees, clutching the framed picture to my chest and trying to find my breath, but my sobs wouldn’t let me. It hurt so much, my chest was in pain, it felt as if someone was trying to rip my heart out. Suddenly, I felt strong hands gripping me by the elbows as I was lifted up. My body was limp so I did not fight back when the person turned me around and cupped my cheeks. My mind was far gone from the present, from what was happening, but I’d recognize his hands anywhere, anytime. They were big, warm, and soft. Wonwoo’s thumb started rubbing my cheek reassuringly and I found strength to open my eyes, still sobbing. His face was emotionless, but his eyes were soft and I knew he felt powerless for not being able to support me. But I appreciated his presence here, he calmed me, the aching wasn’t as bad as before. I tried taking deep breaths, my sobbing coming to silently crying as I hoarsely apologized to Yerim’s parents for creating a scene right at the end of the funeral. They shook their heads and brushed it off, engulfing me in a big hug as Wonwoo stepped back, and they tried to cheer me up with reassuring words, but they only broke me more. They were so supportive and loving, they always let Yerim follow her dreams and encouraged her to become her better self. They did not deserve to lose their brilliant daughter in such an ill manner. When her parents let me go I bowed deeply to them and handed them her framed picture, making her mother cry again. Her father took it from me and then they turned their backs and slowly started walking away. I turned towards my mom and Wonwoo and nodded at them, ready to leave as well. I didn’t want to go yet, but I had to. I had to learn to live without my best friend. Without my other half. As we started walking away, my eyes fell on a figure dressed in all black, head hanging low. His blond hair made it easy to recognize him, it was Soonyoung. He was gazing absent mindedly at Yerim’s grave and my eyebrows furrowed as I watched him. He looked emotionless, something foreign to Soonyoung. His eyes seemed to be red, but he wasn’t crying. Suddenly, he took off towards the grave and before I could follow him with my eyes, Wonwoo squeezed my hand and asked me if I wanted to have some lunch his mother cooked. I wasn’t hungry, but I didn’t want to refuse. I hadn’t eaten since yesterday’s lunch time. And my mother seemed to cheer up a little bit at the idea of seeing Mrs. Jeon, so I agreed to that lunch. And as my mother opened the door for me before going to the driver’s seat, I glanced back at Yerim’s grave and furrowed my eyebrows. We were far from it, but not so far that I couldn’t see Soonyoung’s face. And he was smiling. I felt goosebumps erupting on my skin as I quickly got inside the car, his words from when he sat with me in the ambulance as I was falling unconscious ringing through my mind, ‘I just couldn’t help it…’.

Everything was hard after the funeral. Time really went by fast and I found myself doing nothing but staring out of my head, reminiscing about all the memories I had with Yerim. We’ve been best friends since primary school. I had no other friends, nobody that could live up to her or to our bond. I had no one to talk to suddenly, no one to annoy and no one to listen to as they told their ridiculous stories. It was so hard. I couldn’t eat, some nights I couldn’t sleep, and I couldn’t focus in school or when I had to study. Wonwoo tried to help and studied with me for a hard test, but it did nothing as I failed it. The teachers were understanding and they weren’t pushing me too hard, but for how long would I have their pity? How long until they start calling me out and telling me to get a grip and move on? Sometimes, in the hallways, I would see Myoi Mina’s best friend and I understood. I understood the sorrow in her eyes, the way she wouldn’t even look at anyone else but the ground. How she’d jump at the tiniest sound and how she’d brush off anyone who tried to talk to her. I was like that too, although I was trying hard not to be, it just wasn’t working. A girl who knew Yerim tried to take her seat yesterday and I flipped and screamed at her horrendous things for trying to do so. I felt horrible after that, but it didn’t matter, I was sent to our school’s therapist. He didn’t do much, just gave me some tips on how to grieve, told me to contact him if I started feeling worse, and then sent me on my merry way. I was already feeling the worst, could this get any worse? Wonwoo was understanding, but I could see he was growing restless. He’d snap at me when I’d refuse hanging out with him for the fourth time that week, but he’d instantly apologize saying he understood and he was also dealing with grief. Yerim and him weren’t very close, but they spent a lot of time together because of me, of course he was grieving too. However, Soonyoung was nowhere to be found. Some say his parents took him away on a retreat after he snapped at his younger sister at home, Wonwoo wouldn’t talk about him when asked. It was strange. Their behavior. Wonwoo would become tense when anyone mentioned the killer but when I’d ask if everything was alright he’d become defensive and say he was just stressed.

Tonight was one of those nights when I was restless and couldn’t stay at home anymore, so I went for a walk. My mom was cooking dinner and after playing with Byeol, I grabbed my coat and told my mom I’d be taking a walk in the neighborhood. She asked me to be home in half an hour as it was getting dark and rainy clouds started gathering on the sky. I missed Yerim a lot, and I couldn’t help but think about how excited she’d get whenever it rained. One summer we went down to the lake and it started raining hard, but despite that, Yerim still went and swum in the lake, splashing me repeatedly, making me go in with her despite being scared. Without meaning to, I found myself walking by Yerim’s house. I glanced up at her window, but of course the light wasn’t on. Of course it wouldn’t be on, why would it be? Yerim wasn’t there studying. I wished she was so that I could convince her to hang out with me and Byeol, but she wasn’t here with us anymore. The front door to their house opened and I smiled when I saw her father walking down the porch stairs. He looked up and spotted me, waving at me, as he was headed towards me.

“Good evening, Mr. Kim.” I greeted him and he smiled, opening the gate for me.

“Hello there, Y/N. What brings you here?” His eyes had always reminded me of Yerim’s, and their laughter was the same.

“I was taking a walk in the neighborhood, and found myself wandering here…” Yerim’s father’s face seemed to lose the little happiness he displayed and he sighed, glancing back, up at Yerim’s window.

“I understand, sometimes I find myself walking up to her room in the mornings, wanting to wake her up…” I bit my lower lip and Mr. Kim sighed before looking back at me, “Would you like to come inside? My wife baked those muffins you two girls really like.”

I found myself smiling, Mrs. Kim’s chocolate muffins were the best, whenever she baked them, Yerim and I would devour them in an hour, “If I’m not bothering too much…”

“Non-sense, child.” Mr. Kim laughed and stepped aside, allowing me inside their property. I bowed my head a little at him and walked through the gate, “I’m headed to the supermarket, want anything?”

“No, thank you, Mr. Kim!” He nodded and patted my head before he left through the gate, walking down the street, headed for the closest supermarket. Mr. Kim had always been the father figure I never had. He had also always treated me as his daughter. He was the one who taught me how to swim and how to ride a bicycle as my mother was too busy at the hospital. My parents divorced when I was really young and my father disappeared after that despite promising to come by sometimes and pay for the allowance. I shook my head at the thought of my absent father and walked up to the front door, knocking on it before walking inside. There was some jazz music playing quietly in the background as the delicious muffin smell wafted through the air. I took off my shoes and coat, and walked towards the kitchen, knocking on the door, realizing Mrs. Kim didn’t hear me entering.

“Oh, you’re back—Y/N!” A wide smile spread on Mrs. Kim’s face when she saw me and she rushed up to me, hugging me tightly, “How lovely you stepped by! We haven’t seen you since—”

Since the funeral, “Right, I was out for a walk and found myself passing by. Mr. Kim and I just happened to run into each other, he invited me inside.”

“How smart of him,” Mrs. Kim chuckled; however you could see she wasn’t feeling as giddy as she was acting, “I just happened to bake your favorite chocolate muffins.”

And Yerim’s. I smiled gratefully at Mrs. Kim as she handed me two chocolate muffins, which were still warm, “Thank you.”

“I will pack some for you to take home. I baked too much either way, my husband and I don’t have a sweet tooth, I just missed the smell of it. Your mother loves them too, she’ll be happy for the small gift.” Yerim might’ve looked like his father, but she talked just as much as her mother. When you’d sit down with the two of them and listen to their stories, time would fly by and you wouldn’t even notice. They had a very captivating way of speaking, conversing with them never felt awkward or boring.

“Thank you, she will probably give you a call when she gets them.” I said with a chuckle and Mrs. Kim smiled.

“As she should, we haven’t talked in a while…” Since Yerim’s funeral, but she didn’t want to say it. I didn’t want to say it either. It felt nice being in their home after two weeks. I always felt so welcomed here. The house was bright and homey, Yerim and Mrs. Kim having decorated it in an eccentric way, which would sometimes give Mr. Kim a headache. I looked behind me and glanced at the stair leading upstairs as Mrs. Kim placed some muffins in a smaller bag. She turned back and noticed me staring back at the stairs.

“You can go up, if you want to—Yerim wouldn’t mind it, I know.” Mrs. Kim spoke up and I nodded at her gratefully, placing the muffins I was holding on the table, before hurrying up the stairs and beelining it for her room. I hesitated for a second before opening the door, preparing myself for her absence, but it still hit me hard when I opened the door to darkness. I gulped and turned on the light, blinking away the tears which suddenly sprung to my eyes. Her room was the same, messy but not exactly. Her closet door was slightly opened and I could see her pink hoodie spilling out and I chuckled as I walked over and grabbed it. I always told her to just hang her hoodies up, but she never listened to me. As I held it in my hands, Yerim’s sweet scent hit my nose and I bit my lower lip, taking a deep breath. I placed her hoodie on the bed and pulled my long sleeve over my head before pulling her hoodie on and closing my eyes. My skin got covered in goosebumps as I imagined Yerim sitting in her chair and complaining about me wearing her favorite hoodie, but secretly not being bothered by it at all. We always shared our clothes when we’d have sleepovers, even tried them on and did a fake fashion show or acted as if had to sell them to each other at ridiculous prices. The hoodie’s fabric slowly warmed up and I opened my eyes, looking around her room. Her parents haven’t touched anything and I was reluctant to do so too, so I sat down on her bed and started playing with my fingers. The book I recommended to her to read was on her desk, bookmark somewhere at the middle of the book. She never got to read the mind-blowing plot twist, it made me sad, she would’ve loved it so much. Feeling a bit stuffy, I stood up and opened the window before going back to her bed and jumping on it, sprawling out on it. Yerim’s bed was always so comfortable, her blanket puffy, and bed covered in stuffed animals. I turned onto my stomach and started humming my favorite song as I stared up at the pictures above her bed, smiling as most were with the two of us. Our favorite pictures or just really silly ones. Yerim had big dreams compared to me, I was still struggling to decide what to do after high-school. My eyes went to her nightstand and I grinned when I noticed her favorite strawberry candy laying in her jar. It was the last one. I would always steal it, so I did just that. Hopefully, wherever Yerim was, she could see me right now and she’d be frowning and shaking her head at me. I loved annoying her like that. I unwrapped the candy and slowly ate it, chuckling at myself and how silly I must look. As I threw the wrapper on the nightstand, my eyes widened when I noticed her phone next to her lamp. Her parents must’ve placed it there. It surprised me for some reason, and as I reached for it and grabbed it, a twig snapped outside Yerim’s window and something hit the window. I gasped loudly and turned around, coming face to face with Soonyoung, as he had just climbed inside. I quickly placed Yerim’s phone in the hoodie’s pocket, something told me to hide it from Soonyoung.

“What are you doing here?!” I asked alarmed, heart beating fast from the scare. Soonyoung looked around before leaning against Yerim’s desk.

“I was running and saw light coming from her room—”

“So you just climb inside?!” I asked accusingly and Soonyoung shook his head.

“No, I didn’t meant to, but I saw it was you and—” He cleared his throat and looked down at the floor, “I don’t know…I just felt the need to talk to you.”

It made me realize this was the first time seeing him since Yerim’s funeral. And based on rumors, he wasn’t even supposed to be home.

“Are you okay? I haven’t seen you in school and Wonwoo wouldn’t talk about you.” I asked and Soonyoung looked up with a cold gaze, he looked tired.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I was visiting my grandparents for a week, and I didn’t feel like going to school this week, so yeah.” Soonyoung explained and I nodded, taking in his posture. His shoulders were slumped and his forehead sweaty. He was out running, after all.

“And you?” Soonyoung cleared his throat, “Are you good?”

I sighed and looked up at the ceiling, thinking through my answer, “On some days I’m good, on some days I can’t eat nor sleep. I’m feeling content at the moment, but maybe that’s because we’re standing in Yerim’s room and I’m wearing her hoodie and I can just trick myself into believing that she’s downstairs with her mom or taking a shower…”

Soonyoung nodded and crossed his arms in front of his chest, looking at the hoodie I was wearing, “That was her favorite.” I hummed and he licked his lips, starting to shake his head suddenly.

“You know—if only—” He scoffed and his eyebrows furrowed, “If only she wasn’t so stubborn. She just—she always refused to go out with me, never even gave me a chance. I tried to convince her so many times, you know, I was patient and nice, but—”

I watched as Soonyoung grew agitated and started walking up and down, “But I just couldn’t do it anymore, you know? It’s like, my brain just clicked and I snapped and—”

I was growing confused as I listened to Soonyoung rambling, what did he mean? Snapped and what?, “You snapped and what, Soonyoung?”

“I didn’t want to do it, I swear.” His voice grew low and when he stopped and faced me, he looked different. His expression was dark and his mouth was in a sneer. I gulped and stood up, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable. Soonyoung didn’t seem to notice my discomfort as he hung his head low and sighed loudly.

“I just couldn’t help it…” I gasped. Those words again. What did he mean by them? He didn’t…no. This is Soonyoung, it’s impossible. He couldn’t have…no. He’s my boyfriend’s best friend, he’d never—he’s not a criminal!

“We should go.” I found my voice as I shook my head, growing afraid all of a sudden. Soonyoung was acting weird and I had to go home now. My words seemed to snap him out of his mumbling and he suddenly looked at me, face void of the previous darkness.

“You’re right…” He nodded and patted my shoulder, offering me a small smile, “Don’t tell her parents I climbed in though, I don’t want them to believe I did this often.”

I forced out a chuckle and watched as he climbed out the window and then jumped down, sneaking away from the Kim’s property. My heart was beating like crazy as I closed Yerim’s window and I clutched her phone firmly in my hand as I turned the light off and closed the door behind me. I always refused to listen to what Yerim has always told me, but maybe, just perhaps, there was something very wrong with Soonyoung.

Today the sun seemed to finally come out, no rain clouds seemed to appear anytime soon. It was warm for an October day and I found myself sitting in the courtyard, drawing in my notebook to pass time. I wasn’t hungry, so it was useless to go to the Cafeteria. I didn’t feel like talking to anyone, so when this morning Wonwoo approached me and suggested going on a date after classes, I declined and told him I had to do some catching up in Biology class as I skipped the last two classes having felt unwell. He got moody and stormed off without a word, making me sigh. I was pushing away everyone from myself, but I didn’t know how else to cope with the loss of my best friend. It was the only thing that made me feel content. I drew some harsh lines, trying to create the skyline in my drawing, when I saw someone approaching from the corner of my eyes. I didn’t look up, thinking it was either Wonwoo or Soonyoung, but the girly scent which hit my nose once the person sat next to me on the bench made me turn my head and look at them. It came as a surprise to see Minatozaki Sana sitting next to me, Mina’s best friend. Her blonde hair was tied in a ponytail and she wore a sleeveless turtleneck underneath her cardigan. She looked better than on most days, but her eyes were quite empty. She was staring at me too and I blinked at her in confusion. We never really talked to each other; she was in an entirely different grade than I was.

“Hello.” She broke the silence and I cleared my throat.

“Hi.” I greeted back and looked down at her hand curiously as she extended it towards me.

“My name is Sana; we’ve never been formally introduced to each other.” She seemed like a very straightforward person. I nodded and shook her hand.

“Indeed, my name is Y/N.” Sana hummed and we let go of each other’s hands, “I’m sorry for you loss.”

“I’m sorry for your loss too.” Sana was quick to return my words and I chuckled humorlessly, bringing a sarcastic smile on her lips. She nodded at me and then turned away, gazing at the trees on the other side of the courtyard. I continued watching her, thinking she’d say something else, but she remained silent, even ignored me. Realizing our conversation ended here I shrugged and looked down at my drawing, continuing to draw those harsh lines. And like that, we sat in silence next to each other. Sana proceeded to take out a book and read, and in a weird way, it brought comfort to have someone sitting next to me. But it was weird, if it were Wonwoo or Soonyoung, they would’ve irritated me. Sana’s presence was relaxing, understanding. Words didn’t need to be exchanged, we understood. Our silence was louder than our words could’ve been. I found myself smiling, something I haven’t done in the past four weeks. I glanced at Sana from the corner of my eyes and she was smiling too, sneaking glances at me. Before we could say anything, we both started giggling and it felt so nice. It was so relieving, as if I released all the pent-up stress I had in my muscles.

“We must look so odd to someone if they have been watching us for the past fifteen minutes.” Sana said through her giggles and I shrugged my shoulders.

“That’s the nicest thing someone could be thinking about us at the moment.” I said and Sana nodded, our giggles coming to a stop. Neither of us had to say it, but after Mina’s death there were whispers about Sana. How she killed her best friend because she was jealous of Mina’s success as she was the cheerleading captain and just wanted her position. How they weren’t even friends and kept a façade because their families were friends. Some rumors spread about Sana being in love with Mina, who didn’t reciprocate her feelings, so Sana killed her in a fit of rage. They were awful. And as the students were gossiping about Mina, they were gossiping about me too. I heard the jealousy version too, the need for attention version too, and even the version where Yerim was in love with Wonwoo and I killed her because I couldn’t stand the thought. They were hilarious, but they still got to you after a while. Just last week, Wonwoo almost got into a fight because of a guy who dared to ask me how it felt plunging that knife into Yerim. If Wonwoo wouldn’t have punched the living daylight out of him, I would’ve definitely.

“Don’t let the gossips get to you, they are ridiculous.” Sana said with a roll of her eyes and I nodded, agreeing.

“I know, but they still get bothersome after a while…” I muttered and closed my notebook as the bell rang, signaling our break was over. Sana looked up at the sky for a second and then closed her book, placing it in her backpack.

“You could always just slap them, you know.” She said with a mischievous smile and I chuckled.

“Have you slapped anyone so far?” I asked and Sana pursed her lips.

“Of course, I have,” She stood up, “Johnny thought it was funny talking about my dead friend’s figure and how pitiful it was that he couldn’t sleep with her before she died.”

I didn’t know who this Johnny was, but he deserved that slap, “How disgusting.”

“Indeed.” Sana hummed and waited for me to pack my belongings and get up from the bench. We took off, headed to the side entrance to the school, when suddenly, the intercom went off and our principal’s voice came through.

“This is the principal speaking. I ask everyone to pack their belongings and head straight to the main entrance. All students have fifteen minutes to leave the premises, a dead body was found in the men’s bathroom on the third floor. I instruct everyone to leave right now, and do not try and approach said bathroom or there will be repercussions!” Sana and I stopped dead in our tracks and looked at each other before hurrying inside the school, you could only leave through the main entrance. The halls were full of students rushing to get out, it was chaotic. Everyone was pushing everyone around and I found myself reaching for Sana’s hand, keeping her close to me as a bigger guy almost ran into her. She thanked me quietly and we continued making our way towards the main entrance. My heart was racing and suddenly I was feeling sick. Another victim. Another crime. Who was it this time? And just as that thought crossed my mind, I suddenly felt my legs turn weak. Wonwoo. Where was Wonwoo? Soonyoung? Where were they? Were they fine? I couldn’t do this again. I felt like I was walking through water again, the entrance was just there, but it felt so far away. I felt Sana tugging on my hand and I followed her, trying to control my rigged breathing.

“Hey, look at me.” She said once we were outside and she pulled me to the side of the steps, “Breathe, Y/N, you’re turning red.”

I nodded and tried to take a deep breath, but my muscles were tense and I felt tears gather in my eyes, “Where’s Wonwoo?”

An understanding look crossed Sana’s face and she started looking around, “I am sure he is alright; he’s probably looking for you right now, just as scared. You need to breathe, Y/N.”

I nodded and closed my eyes, feeling Sana’s grip tightening on my hand, and I tried to breathe. It was hard at the beginning, my lungs seemed to refuse to listen, but at last I was able to take little breaths here and there. Before I could react to the disappearance of Sana’s grip, I was engulfed into a bear hug, held tightly to someone’s chest. I gasped and opened my eyes, my arms going around Wonwoo’s neck.

“Oh my God, you’re okay.” I whispered, a tear rolling down my cheek. Wonwoo’s breathing was shaky as well and he nodded, his hold crushing me.

“Yes, yes.” He whispered and kissed my head, “Are you hurt?”

“No.” I muttered and shook my head, pulling a bit back. Wonwoo’s eyebrows were furrowed and he was breathing hard, his hair fell into his eyes. I pushed it back and smiled at him, grateful that nothing happened to him. I really wouldn’t have been able to deal with losing him too in such a sort time after Yerim’s death. I leaned up and pressed a short kiss against his lips and I could feel Wonwoo’s muscles relaxing, his hold not tight anymore.

“Where have you been? I’ve been looking for you all break.” Wonwoo muttered, pushing my hair behind my ear.

“In the courtyard, I wasn’t hungry.” I answered and then looked down, “Sorry, I should’ve told you.”

Wonwoo shook his head and kissed my forehead swiftly, “No, it’s alright.”

I realized Sana was with me seconds ago and looked around, spotting her to our right, “Thank you.”

She smiled and nodded her head before she placed her backpack around her shoulders and started walking away. Wonwoo nodded at her and Sana greeted him back before disappearing in the crowd of people.

“You know her?” He asked quietly, almost sounding irritated.

“Not really, we talked for the first time today. But I knew who she was.” I explained and he nodded, looking off in the distance.

“You shouldn’t be friends with her.” Wonwoo sounded serious as his expression hardened and I stepped out of his hold, confused.

“Why?” But before he could answer me, Soonyoung came running up to us. His hair was disheveled and he was panting, a duffel bag in his hands. My eyebrows furrowed and I stepped back when he stopped next to me a little bit too close for my liking. I’ve been avoiding him since we met in Yerim’s room, scared of his sudden changes of mood. Soonyoung had a crazed look in his eyes and he was grinning from ear to ear as he looked at Wonwoo.

“Did you hear? The murderer killed someone again.” He sounded excited and my eyebrows furrowed when I saw Wonwoo’s lips twitching.

“Who was it this time?” Wonwoo asked, voice uncaring, but I didn’t miss the hint of smirk on his lips. I gulped, curious too, but a bit taken aback by the boys attitudes.

“Boo Seungkwan.” I gasped and took a step back again, eyes widening. I knew him. The two boys looked at me with raised eyebrows. I gulped and avoided their eyes, feeling uncomfortable.

“Are you sure?” I asked quietly, feeling a lump in my throat.

“One hundred percent, Y/N,” Soonyoung chuckled and he went and slung his arm around Wonwoo’s shoulders, “I was the one who found him.”

My head snapped up and I watched the two boys in front of me as they looked at each other and chuckled, and then my eyes fell on the duffle bag. It was zipped closed, but…it looked as if there was a darker spot on it. I squinted as I tried focusing on it, but Wonwoo’s voice caught my attention.

“Didn’t you know him, sugar?” He asked sweetly and I nodded, eyebrows furrowing.

“Yeah, I did, he—” I cleared my throat and scratched my arm in discomfort, “He’s been bullying me since kindergarten.”

“He must’ve had a crush on you, right, Wonwoo?” Soonyoung asked with a laugh and I grimaced, weirded out by their behavior and feeling bad for talking like that about a dead person.

“Well, he’s been put out of his misery, so, I suppose it doesn’t matter anymore.” Wonwoo’s voice was smug and my eyebrows furrowed as I looked at my boyfriend, who seemed amused by the whole situation. What was happening? Why were they reacting like this? Wasn’t Soonyoung supposed to be shaken up after finding a dead body? I shuddered, and Wonwoo noticed because his demeanor changed instantly and he shook Soonyoung off him and took a step toward me.

“Y/N, I’m—”

“I have to go.” I cut him off and hurried away before he could grab me and convince me to stay with the two of them. I glanced back when I was a good distance away from them and saw Soonyoung making some slashing motions with his hand while laughing and Wonwoo smirking at him as he dug his hands inside his pockets. There was something very wrong with Soonyoung, and I was getting more and more scared of him.

Despite the sun being out throughout the day, by the evening some dark clouds started gathering on the sky, lightning flashing in the distance. I sighed as I drew my curtains to the side and opened the window, letting some fresh air in before the rain could start. I figured we’d have another stormy night, great, my mom had the night shift again, I hated being home alone during storms. I could hear Byeol running up and down the hallway as I sat on my bed and I chuckled, she had the zoomies again. I was holding Yerim’s phone in my hands and I figured I couldn’t do much damage if I looked through her gallery. Before leaving the Kim’s house I asked if it was alright if I borrowed her phone for a while, and they said it was okay as long as I returned it. So, pulling my hair to the side I unlocked her phone and went to her gallery. She was very organized, even when it came to pictures. There were different folders for different themes, all labeled accordingly. I clicked on the one with our nicknames for each other and giggled at the first photo. It was taken when Yerim and I went to the movies and I accidentally got stuck in the bathroom as the lock was faulty. You could see my hands from above the stall and I remembered how loudly I was screaming as I had left my phone with Yerim. It was hilarious, but I prefer not repeating the incident. Then the next one was with her neighbor’s dog; she took a selfie as we both were petting it. Then there were a bunch of hilarious and cute selfies from our latest sleepover, a few pictures of Byeol, and our favorite picture which we took while hiking one day. I sighed and looked out the window, just in time to see the lightning strike again. The thunder followed almost immediately, but it wasn’t as loud as I expected it to be. I looked back down at Yerim’s phone and excited her camera roll, about to place her phone to the side, when Byeol came zooming inside my room, scaring the living daylight out of me. I yelped and watched as she stopped underneath my window before she jumped up on the sill, looking at me innocently. I grimaced at her and looked back down at the phone, having accidentally opened the call log. My eyes ran over the familiar names of people, mine being the last one. I was the last person Yerim called before she died. A lump formed in my throat and I gulped, noticing the unknown number underneath mine. Who could that have been? Maybe a scammer or a guy she newly met, however I doubted that was the case, she always saved the numbers she was talking to. Biting my lower lip, I debated calling the unknown number, but after all, I had nothing to lose. And curiosity was eating my alive. So, I clicked on the number and dialed it, waiting patiently for the person on the other side to pick up. However, a ringing sound not too far away from my window suddenly caught my attention and I knew I wasn’t hallucinating as Byeol’s ears perked up at the sound too. But before I could think more of it, my call was picked up, but there was only silence on the other end. My eyebrows furrowed as I stood from my bed and walked towards Byeol, lightly petting her head as I looked out my window.

“Hello?” I asked quietly, getting a strange feeling of being watched, so I closed the window and locked it quickly.

“Hi there, beautiful.” I jumped at the distorted voice. It sounded like a robot speaking, the voice was low but almost glitchy. I looked out the window, wondering who was this and why had they called Yerim?

“Who are you?” I asked curiously, figuring it was just someone playing a prank on me.

“Wouldn’t it be boring if I told you that?” The voice almost took a playful tone and I chuckled.

“Perhaps, it would ruin your fun too soon, right?” I decided to play along and the person chuckled.

“Smart girl, indeed, it would ruin my fun too soon.” There was a pause before they continued, “And I’m not done having fun yet.”

I hummed and started petting Byeol’s head again as she was staring out the window, “Why did you call Yerim?”

“I was just about to ask; how do you have your dead friend’s phone?” I paused for a second, eyebrows furrowing. So this person seems to know us well. First, they probably called Yerim and were pranking her and now they are playing with me. It’s probably one of our classmates then, Mark likes goofing around.

“You must know us well if you have her number.” I decided to feel around and try and find out who this was.

“Oh,” The person chuckled and it sent a chill down my spine, “I happen to know you very well, Y/N.”

I licked my lips and looked down at Byeol as she pulled her head away, having had enough of my petting, “Really? How?”

The person chuckled again and I watched as Byeol jumped down from the window sill and walked out of my room, “I can’t tell you all of my secrets just yet, beautiful, it’s our first time talking.”

“I don’t think it is,” I chuckled, “Mark.”

There was a pause before the person sighed, “Who’s Mark, beautiful?”

I rolled my eyes, amused, “Ha-ha, very funny. My classmate, obvious. You really like playing pranks on people, don’t you? I thought last week’s detention was enough for a lifetime.”

“What if I’m not Mark?” The voice sounded very serious all of a sudden and I bit my lower lip, tracing a rain drop on my window as it started lightly raining.

“Then who could you possibly be?” There was another lightning and I turned around when Byeol started meowing loudly in my doorway. She was hungry, again, “I’m bored of this game—”

I turned to face the window again but instead of finishing my sentence, I cut myself off with a loud scream. A masked person was standing outside my window, and I started shaking as I froze for a second. It was…a Ghostface.

“Auch, beautiful, that was loud.” The Ghostface whined and I quickly drew the curtains closed, pulling down the blinds too, “What are you doing? Let me see you—”

“Who are you?!” I cut the person off, almost screaming as I ran out of my room, Byeol following agitatedly behind me. I checked the front door quickly, making sure it was locked before I went to check the door in the living room as well.

“Just a Ghostface, beautiful.” The person answered nonchalantly and my heart started beating fast as I hid behind the sofa, pulling Byeol into my chest. She made no sound as she gazed at me with her big green eyes.

“Stop calling me beautiful!” I snapped and tried to take deep breaths, debating on calling the police from my own phone. Who was this? What did they want? Were they…were they here to hurt me? What if…what if they were the killer? I felt dread flush over my whole being and I swallowed my tears and blinked my eyes continuously. I had to stay focused, if I was in danger, I had to save myself somehow.

“Did I scare you, beau—”

“Did you kill Kim Yerim?” I cut the Ghostface off, voice shaky as I waited for an answer. The person’s laughter made me shudder and Byeol wrestled herself out of my arms and meowed loudly at me for holding her so tightly. I felt sorry, but I was scared, and I was trying to hold her close to myself in case we needed to escape.

“Maybe I did.” There was a pause and I gasped, “Maybe I didn’t.”

I sprung up to my feet, acting out of pure terror, as I ran up to my room and grabbed my phone. I was too scared to look out of my window to see if the person was still there. There was a loud thunder and I screamed as the line went dead, leaving me shaking. Was the Ghostface gone? Shakily, I placed Yerim’s phone on my desk and slowly raised the blinds, scared of seeing the Ghostface outside of my window still. But nobody was there. I was scared, shaking, and on the verge of crying. Byeol was downstairs and the rain started falling harder. I couldn’t stay alone tonight; it would kill my nerves. So I quickly unlocked my phone and dialed my boyfriend’s number, pacing up and down in my room as I waited for him to pick up. Something rustled outside of my window and I froze when I faintly heard Wonwoo’s familiar ringtone, but the thunder swallowing the sound was louder and it made me feel stupid. Why would Wonwoo be right outside my window unannounced either way? What was he? A burglar? Wonwoo picked up on the third ring.

“Hi—”

“Can you sleepover tonight?” I cut him off, words hurried as I fixed my eyes on my window, starting to shake again.

“Are you alright?” Wonwoo sounded concerned and I heard rustling on the other end.

“No, are you coming over?”

“I’m on my way.” Wonwoo said before hanging up and I took a deep breath, trying to calm down. This was good. I wouldn’t be alone. Wonwoo would come by and sleep here. I took deep breaths as I paced around my room, Byeol sat in the doorway and watched me with a confused look on her face. I chuckled when I looked at her and tried not to think about the Ghostface and our conversation. It freaked me out. Who was behind the mask? And why would they want to prank anyone in this kind of way? It was distasteful and creepy, I was scared. Just as Byeol meowed she reminded that I forgot to feed her, the doorbell rang. I paused and looked at Byeol, my heart suddenly racing again. Who was that? Wonwoo lived twenty minutes away from me and it wasn’t even five minutes since I had called him, it couldn’t have been him. Was it…the person wearing that Ghostface mask? My heart started beating fast again and I glanced at Byeol as she started meowing loudly and took off towards the front door. The doorbell rang again and I hurried after my cat, calling out her name quietly.

“Stop!” I whisper-shouted, motioning at her to come to me, but she was ignoring me. Her meows were loud and I cursed quietly as I creeped towards the front door, convinced that it wasn’t Wonwoo, but that masked person. I should call the police. Suddenly there was loud knocking on the front door and I jumped as Byeol glanced at me.

“Y/N?!” Wonwoo’s deep voice made me sigh in relief as I quickly unlocked the front door and opened it for him. His hair was drenched and his jacket and jeans were wet too, it was pouring outside now. Byeol started meowing as Wonwoo stepped inside and he smiled at her, kneeling down to muzzle his face against her head. Byeol loved Wonwoo and they always played together a lot when Wonwoo came over. But…how did he get here so fast?

“Wonwoo—you’re drenched.” I muttered suspiciously as I helped him out of his jacket. He suddenly looked at me with a wide smile, ruffling his hair.

“Yeah, I was on my way here when the rain started.” He said with a shrug and I hung his jacket on the hanger.

“But you got here really fast…” I trailed off and watched him take off his shoes before he gave Byeol a swift kiss.

“Oh, yeah, I was already on my way—”

“Why?” I asked accusingly, eyebrows furrowed, and arms crossed in front of my chest. There were too many weird things happening today, I was freaked out. I couldn’t decide if my thoughts were real or I was being delusional. Could I seriously not trust my own boyfriend anymore? But he gave me no reasons…

Wonwoo looked taken aback by my tone and words, “Uhm…I just wanted to surprise you? You told me your mom was working the nightshift and I know you hate storms…”

He was right, I was overreacting, “Yeah, I know, I’m sorry—it’s just, lately I’m so jumpy.”

Wonwoo smiled and approached me, cupping my cheeks, “I noticed, but it’s fine. Things will get better eventually.”

I nodded and kissed his lips, their warmth bringing a sense of tranquility as I stepped closer to him. Wonwoo’s grip got firmer and our lips started moving against each other as I circled my arms around his neck, his wet hair tingling my wrists. One of his hand’s gripped my waist, and I hummed when his familiar scent hit my nose. It felt nice kissing him, I’ve been keeping my distance from Wonwoo, feeling uncomfortable lately with any physical contact besides a brief hug. And this felt nice now. His familiar lips, and firm grip, musky scent, I realized I had missed them. Byeol’s loud meowing broke us apart and I chuckled as I pressed another kiss against Wonwoo’s lips.

“Poor cat, she’s hungry…can you feed her while I bring you a towel?” I asked and Wonwoo nodded with a smile, releasing me from his hold as I turned and headed to the bathroom. Byeol followed Wonwoo as they headed into the kitchen and I could hear him pouring the cat food into her little bowl. I got a clean towel and then walked to the kitchen, handing it to Wonwoo.

“Do you want tea or hot chocolate?” I asked with a grin as I grabbed two mugs. Wonwoo pursed his lips and pulled out his glasses from the pocket of his hoodie.

“It’s a hot chocolate kind of night.”

“Right?!” I asked with a chuckle and he nodded at me amused.

“Do you still have my spare clothes?’ Wonwoo asked and I chuckled as I glanced back at him.

“What do you think?” He smirked at me and pushed up his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose, “They are in the laundry room.”

Wonwoo thanked me and then walked away, leaving me with Byeol in the kitchen. While she quietly ate her food I prepared the hot chocolate for Wonwoo and I. He took his time to change out of his wet clothes and dried his hair with the towel as best as he could. When he joined us in the kitchen again, the hot chocolate were already ready and Byeol was somewhere off in the house, probably sleeping as she had just eaten. I handed Wonwoo a mug as he approached me and he thanked me with his signature gummy smile. I had always loved his smile, it made him look so cute. It was a nice contrast compared to his usual poker face. Wonwoo wasn’t very expressive usually, but when it was just the two of us, he could be very cute. He interlaced our fingers as we drank our hot chocolate and I giggled, raising my eyebrows at him.

“I missed you.” He whispered, looking down at his mug. I bit my lower lip and felt bad for pushing him away for so long, but I needed the space. I still do, but it’s not as bad as after the funeral.

“I’m sorry, I just felt uncomfortable around people after…” I trailed off and sighed, taking a sip of my hot chocolate. Wonwoo squeezed my hand.

“I understand you, and I’m not pressuring you in any way. It must hurt like hell losing your best friend.” I gulped a bit harder and glanced at Wonwoo briefly, noticing the change in his behavior. There it was again, the ghost of a smirk on his lips. It was confusing.

“Yeah, it hurts a lot. I hope the criminal is caught soon so that I can face them—”

“And what would you do?” Wonwoo sounded curious as he turned his body to face mine. I raised an eyebrow at him as I shrugged.

“That they are a piece of shit and I hope they rot away in prison until they get to root in hell.” Despite me being dead serious, Wonwoo started laughing and I pulled my hand out of his, slightly irritated.

“You’re hot when you get fired up, sugar.” Normally his compliments would leave me feeling giddy, but we were talking about the murderer of my best friend right now, there was nothing hot about it.

I shot Wonwoo a glare before walking to the sink to wash my mug, “I thought we were having a serious conversation, Wonwoo.”

Wonwoo sighed and approached me, still sipping his hot chocolate, “Come on, I was just joking—”

“Well it’s not funny!” I snapped, looking at him, “Yerim was murdered and you’re telling me I’m hot when I talk about her murderer?!”

“No, that’s not hot, I was just saying you are—nevermind, I’m not in the mood to fight. You’ve been ignoring me for three weeks and when we finally get to spend some time together you’re just getting angry at me.” Wonwoo sounded accusing as he placed the mug forcefully in the sink and I rolled my eyes.

“What did you expect me to do? Jump in your arms the day after my friend’s funeral—”

“You didn’t have to push me away!” His voice raised and I turned to wash his mug too, hating it when he started getting loud while arguing, “I get that you don’t let me touch you, but you wouldn’t even speak to me, Y/N! If I knew you’d be like this I wouldn’t have let Soonyoung—”

I paused, turning to look at Wonwoo. He seemed speechless as he stared at me wide eyed, shaking his head. I turned off the water and faced him.

“What the hell are you even saying?” I asked confused, trying to comprehend his words but I didn’t understand what he was talking about. What had Soonyoung to do with our argument right now? What did he do?

“Nothing, I’m just—” Wonwoo shrugged and took a deep breath, composing himself, “I just missed you, that’s it. I hate arguing with you, you know that.”

“Yeah, well,” I scoffed and dried my hands in a towel, “I wouldn’t be arguing with you if you tried to understand my feelings—”

“I do understand.” He cut me off and my jaw clenched as I gave him a glare.

“I don’t feel it, but whatever, do you want to watch a movie or what?” Honestly, I wasn’t in the mood to watch anything, I just wanted to go to sleep, but I knew Wonwoo would bother me until I wasn’t grumpy.

“Do you want to watch one?” Wonwoo asked with a sigh, knowing that our previous conversation was over.

“No.” I muttered and he looked up at the ceiling, taking a deep breath.

“Do you want to go to sleep?” I nodded wordlessly and he pulled me into a hug, making me roll my eyes. I didn’t want to be hugged right now, but I didn’t push him away, just didn’t reciprocate the hug, “It’s still early to go to sleep.”

It wasn’t that early, but he was right, I would wake up during the night, probably, “Whatever, I want to go to bed.”

He groaned and suddenly I felt his hands gripping my thighs as I was hauled up, I yelped and grabbed onto him, “What are you doing?!”

Wonwoo said nothing as he took off and headed up the stairs, towards my room. He pushed the door open with his foot and walked towards my bed, before I could ask him to let me down, he fell forward, crushing me against the bed with his weight. I groaned as my bed’s mattress wasn’t soft.

“Wonwoo…” I muttered with a glare, grabbing his shoulders to push him off. He whined and didn’t move as he nuzzled his head in my neck, “You’re too heavy.”

“And you’re too grumpy.” He muttered and I slapped his shoulder, making him chuckle. I wanted him off, but he wasn’t budging. Before I could interject, he started pressing kisses against my neck, knowing well I was ticklish there, but I tried to keep my laughter in as I tried wrestling out from underneath him. Wonwoo was having the time of his life as he started laughing and tickling my sides too, making me cry out in despair as I hated being tickled.

“Stop! Wonwoo!” I tried to push his hands away, but it was futile. Wonwoo was giggling and quickly kissed my lips before he finally stopped tickling me, smiling at me mischievously. I glared at him and as I went to smack his arm, Byeol decided to join us as she jumped up on Wonwoo’s back. I started laughing as Wonwoo hissed, Byeol’s nails dug into his back, he deserved it after torturing me here.

“Hey, Byeol!” Wonwoo started shaking his back, trying to get my cat off of him, but it wasn’t working, so I started poking her, trying to get her off his back. And it worked, because Byeol jumped off and Wonwoo finally got off of me as well to start playing with my cat. He got on the floor and started pushing her lightly around, making Byeol land on her side as she started turning around, attacking Wonwoo’s fingers and jumping on his hand. I chuckled and left the two to play as I went to the bathroom to change into my pajamas and brush my teeth. I was too tired to shower, so I tried to be quick and when I walked back inside my room, Wonwoo and Byeol were still playing. I poked Byeol to rile her up more and she lunged for Wonwoo’s hand, making him hiss as I plugged in my phone. I looked at him and Wonwoo was glaring at Byeol.

“Did she scratch you?” I asked as Wonwoo got up and sat on my bed.

“Yeah.” He nodded and showed me his hand, two long, red, scratches decorating his hand. I pouted at him mockingly and kissed the scratches before laying down in my bed and pulling the blanket over my body.

“Don’t worry, soldier, those scratches won’t kill you for now.” I said mockingly and Wonwoo rolled his eyes, pulling the blanket over my head, but I managed to punch his bicep, making him groan. I giggled and pulled the blanket off, sticking my tongue out at him, “Are you coming to bed?”

“Nah,” Wonwoo stood and walked to my computer, “I want to play COD before I go to sleep.”

“Fine,” I muttered and closed my eyes, “but don’t stay up until late and check if we locked the front door before you come to bed.”

“Okay, mom.” Wonwoo muttered and I rolled my eyes, “Good night.”

“I love you.” I whispered and sighed, getting comfortable as Wonwoo turned off all the lights in my room and only left on the one at my desk. I heard Byeol moving around, no doubt she went to sleep in Wonwoo’s lap as he started playing Call of Duty.

After Wonwoo left I had a whole three days to think about everything that’s been happening lately and they way Soonyoung and him were acting from time to time. It was getting quite obvious that there was something wrong with Soonyoung and it seems like only Yerim had noticed until now. The boy gets upset at the smallest of things and he’s always saying some fucked up shit about the people he doesn’t like, and it almost always involves a comment about how the Earth would be better off without them and that he could slay them in their sleep. I never paid attention to these comments because I thought he was just joking as he has always had a dark sense of humor. But it didn’t make sense why he was at the pool on the day Yerim died. I was the last person she called and somehow Soonyoung knew about her death. Was he perhaps nearby? But why would he be? Yerim refused to go on a date that evening, so there was no reason for Soonyoung to show up there. He was tough to deal with, but if he was told no, he wouldn’t bother you for a while. And his words kept bothering me still, ‘I just couldn’t help it’, what did he mean by them? What has he done? Wonwoo’s slip up about how he wouldn’t have let Soonyoung do whatever also didn’t sit right with me. I wished there was someone I could talk to about these crazy thoughts, but I knew how it would sound. Was I accusing Soonyoung of killing Yerim? Not exactly, but it started sounding like that. Was I suspecting my boyfriend’s best friend about being a murderer? I tried not to, but it was becoming difficult. So I decided to try and talk to him, sort things out with Soonyoung without accusing him of anything, just ask him all of the questions I desperately needed an answer to and everything would be alright. But Soonyoung started avoiding me, he wouldn’t talk to me if it was unnecessary and he’d only sit with me if Wonwoo was with us, and even then, he remained quiet. It was weird, Soonyoung talked a lot. I brought it up to Wonwoo and he said not to think too much about it as it was Soonyoung and his talkativeness depended a lot on his mood. I tried to explain to Wonwoo that I didn’t care about that, that it was his attitude which changed and that I wasn’t able to talk to him because he was avoiding me or ignoring me, but Wonwoo just shrugged it off and said that he didn’t notice anything weird with him. I knew it was futile to press the matter more, so I let it go and focused on other things. Sana and I started hanging out in the long breaks and it felt nice to have a girl to talk to again. However, one day, she freaked me out a bit.

“Did you notice how every murdered person has something to do with you so far?” She had asked as she took a bite of her sandwich. I had choked on my smoothie upon hearing her words.

“No? What are you talking about?” I had asked confused, goosebumps erupting on my skin.

“Well,” She had started saying as she gazed up at the sky, “Yerim was your best friend, you’ve known Seungkwan since you were little and well…you sort of knew Mina too, she was Wonwoo’s ex.”

Yes, I had known all these people, but I couldn’t follow Sana’s train of thought, “Yeah, but…it’s not like I’m the only one who knew them…”

“True,” Sana had hummed and then had looked at me, “Whatever, ignore what I said. I’ve just been thinking about it.”

So, we moved on with our conversation after that, however, her words made me think hard about what she had said. Somehow, she wasn’t wrong. I had known all three people, even if not from very close, they did have a significance in my life at some point, it made me shudder again. I thought about bringing it up to Wonwoo when we were hanging out after class, but I was scared he’d think I was going crazy. I was just desperate to find out who murdered and why my best friend, and all these other people. And what if I was the serial killer’s next target? Nobody was safe.

Time flies by so fast you don’t even notice it. It feels like Yerim’s funeral was yesterday yet it’s Halloween already. Almost two months have had passed since losing her, and I was still getting used to it. I couldn’t say it was easier, but I was doing slightly better. Today was a particularly hard day as Halloween was Yerim and I’s favorite holiday. We’d always dress up in our favorite character at the moment and throw a small house party for our close friends. The rules were that we’d go trick or treating to each other and before midnight we’d gather at a bonfire and tell scary stories which have happened to us. It was a lot of fun each year and we couldn’t wait for it; however, it was my first Halloween without Yerim and it didn’t feel right. I was feeling nauseous all day long and quite moody as the weather had gotten colder too. Sana noticed my grumpiness and once I told her what the issue was she left me alone. Wonwoo wasn’t so understanding as we had talked about going to a Haunted House for fun months ago. He said he understood yet he was pressuring me in going with them. He promised it would be fun and that I shouldn’t stay at home and sulk all night long. I wasn’t sulking, I was trying to cope with the absence of my best friend, but it seemed like he didn’t understand that. So, very reluctantly, I agreed to go with him to the Haunted House. A few of his friends would be joining us, so I figured asking Sana if she’d like to come wouldn’t hurt anyone. She seemed quite excited once I told her and she promised to pick me up at around nine as Wonwoo wanted to go out beforehand with his friends. That was fine with me, I wasn’t in the mood to hang out with drunk teenage guys either way. They would get loud and pushy; I knew someone would bring up Yerim and it was the last thing I needed tonight. Mom was happy to see me going out and even encouraged me when I asked her to braid my hair. I wasn’t in the mood to go shopping for a costume, so I dressed in last year’s witch outfit. Nobody would care either way. Only Yerim actually cared, and she wasn’t here. Last year I was the one hosting the small party and I figured since I had a black cat I should dress up as a witch, it was a total success. Everyone loved the look and the vibes.

As nine o’clock approached, Sana texted me that she was right outside my house and after mom kissed my cheek and told me to have fun I left the house and jogged up to Sana’s extravagant car. They were quite rich and despite her being humble, her things screamed rich girl vibes.

“Hi!” She greeted me excited and I waved at her as I sat inside the car, “How are you?”

I sighed and closed the door, “Well, I had better days.”

“You look amazing though,” She patted my thigh and I nodded wordlessly, “If at any point you feel uncomfortable and want to come home, don’t feel hesitant to tell me. I’ll drive you.”

I felt my heart warming at her comment and gave her a genuine thankful smile, “Thank you.”

Sana wasn’t Yerim, and she’d never be, but it felt nice to have someone who was so understanding and kind. She’s shown me nothing but kindness since we started talking and it was refreshing. Sana was soft spoken and quiet usually, she didn’t speak unasked and often times we’d just sit in silence next to each other, enjoying each other’s presence. She was the total opposite of Yerim, yet we seemed to get along well. Sana made me feel seen and understood when nobody else could, perhaps that’s why I felt a little attached to her. I could only hope that she felt the same about me and didn’t think I was cold to her.

Once we got to the Haunted House the place was buzzing with people, everyone was excited for the new addition of the Amusement Park. It was a Halloween special and it was the first year they had opened a Haunted House for Halloween. Yerim would’ve loved coming here, we’ve discussed our outfits for tonight quite often and how much fun we’d have at the Haunted House, but now I had to do all of that alone. I owed it to her at least. Finding Wonwoo wasn’t hard as he and his friends had come with their bikes and they were gathered at the entrance of the Park, being loud and annoying. Sana followed after me as I was headed their way. I spotted Wonwoo next to his motorbike and walked towards him, catching his attention when I got nearby. He grinned at me and opened his arms once I was next to him, pulling me in a big hug.

“Hello, beautiful.” I smiled and pulled back, kissing his cheek. His friends got quiet and I faced them, waving at everyone. They greeted me back and I glanced at Sana before clearing my throat.

“This is Sana,” I introduced her to everyone, and starting from our left started introducing the boys, “That’s Minghao, Vernon, Soonyoung and Jeonghan.”

“Nice to meet you!” Sana smiled and the boys quickly greeted her, Minghao shaking her hand and introducing himself individually too. I chuckled and looked at Wonwoo who was smirking. Minghao wasn’t very interested in girls, but when he was, he made it quite obvious and Sana was a gorgeous girl. Jeonghan was smirking to our right as he watched me and I noticed, so I raised my eyebrows at him.

“Looking quite ravishing, Y/N.” Jeonghan said in a flirty tone and I felt Wonwoo’s arm tightening around my shoulders. Jeonghan was quite flirty, even with me. I used to think he was annoying, but after getting to know him better, I realized he flirted even with his guy friends, I figured it’s just the way he was. Besides, he was no threat when it came to Wonwoo, I was too in love with my boyfriend to find any other guy interesting enough. Sometimes I wished Wonwoo understood that too and stopped being jealous, but I figured he was just the possessive type.

“Thank you, interesting choice of outfit, Jeonghan.” I commented, making Soonyoung laugh as he pushed off his bike. I glanced at him but he was avoiding eye contact, still.

“Who dresses up as a cat, Jeonghan?” Soonyoung teased but Jeonghan just shrugged and pushed his long hair behind his shoulders.

“I do, why? Are you falling in love with me?” Jeonghan started leaning towards Soonyoung who flicked him off and grabbed his backpack off his bike.

“Yeah, right.” He muttered sarcastically and Minghao smiled, speaking up.

“Are we going in then?”

“Yes, let’s go!” Vernon said with excitement lacing his voice and I nodded, sighing quietly. Wonwoo noticed and looked down at me.

“Are you alright?” He asked quietly as we took off towards the ticket booth. I nodded and pressed a kiss against his lips, bringing a smile on his face. He bopped our noses together before we joined the others in line, waiting to buy our tickets too.

The night seemed to be going well, everyone was having fun. Sana and Vernon seemed to be hitting it off quite well, much to Minghao’s disappointment. Jeonghan kept giggling as Minghao continued sulking while we watched Sana and Vernon play a shooting game in order to win a pink teddy bear. Sana really wanted it, but after missing almost all targets she walked away sulkily and that’s all it took Vernon to try his luck, and he seemed to be doing really well.

“Does our little Vernon have a new crush?” It was the first time in a while Soonyoung addressed me directly and I looked at him surprised. Was he done ignoring me and avoiding me?

“Who knows, but I don’t blame him.” I said with a shrug and Soonyoung looked at me.

“Good for him, she never liked me.” Soonyoung sounded a little bitter and it made me remember that Wonwoo and Mina once were together, of course Soonyoung and Sana knew each other. But I didn’t know he was into her…much like he was into Yerim as well. Interesting pattern, I thought to myself as my eyebrows lightly furrowed. Soonyoung seemed to notice and he cleared his throat, looking off in the distance.

“Do you want some cotton candy?” He asked as he took out his wallet.

“No, thank you, Wonwoo is buying some caramel popcorn for us.” I declined nicely and Soonyoung nodded.

“I’ll be right back.” He said before walking off to the cotton candy booth, buying one for himself. I continued watching Vernon and Sana as they both laughed, trying their luck for another plushie, this time it was a blue shark. Wonwoo was buying popcorn not far away and Jeonghan and Minghao decided to ride a very scary looking roller-coaster. They didn’t want to come to the Haunted House with us so we agreed to meet in an hour at the Ferris-wheel as we had to wait a little for our tour at the Haunted House. They only let in around ten people at every half an hour. Chuckling at Vernon’s dramatic fail at hitting the last target, I noticed someone in my peripheral vision. The person seemed to be approaching me and as I turned my head a wide smile erupted on my lips. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I hadn’t seen him in ages. It was Seonghwa, my ex-boyfriend. He was my first serious boyfriend and I only had fond memories of him. We parted on friendly terms and have been civil with each other ever since. He moved away two years ago, so it was a surprise to see him here.

“Seonghwa!” I exclaimed as I ran up to him and engulfed him in a hug. He giggled and hugged me back just as tightly. He had gotten taller since the last time we saw each other. He still had that bubble gum scent, it made me giddy.

“Y/N, I would’ve never thought we’d meet here of all places!” He said with a laugh as we let go of each other and took a small step back.

“Right?!” I chuckled as we smiled widely at each other, “I didn’t even know you were back in town!”

“Yeah, it’s a brief visit, so I didn’t tell anyone.” He scratched his nape awkwardly, “I wasn’t even supposed to be here, but San and Wooyoung dragged me here because of the Haunted House.”

“Oh, yeah, it’s a hot topic at the moment. I wasn’t in the mood to come, but I promised Wonwoo we’d go so…” I trailed off with a sigh and Seonghwa nodded.

“How is he?” He asked with a polite smile and I shrugged, looking around for him.

“He’s fine, just the usual.” I answered and Seonghwa nodded.

“I, uh—” He cleared his throat, “I heard what happened to Yerim. I’m very sorry for your loss. She didn’t deserve that.”

I looked away and gulped, hating that she was the topic, but I knew Seonghwa didn’t mean bad, “Thank you, she really didn’t. She was taken from us so early…”

Seonghwa gave my shoulder a reassuring squeeze, “I’m always here for you, I hope you know that.”

“I do.” His words brought a smile to my face, even after breaking up, Seonghwa was always there to support me and cheer me up until he had to move away. He was a kind soul always looking out for others, “How’s your grandma?”

“She’s the reason I’m visiting, actually, she’s not doing so well.” Seonghwa’s voice lowered and he looked down, it was my turn to offer him a reassuring pat.

“I’m sad to hear that, I hope she gets better.” Seonghwa nodded and I could hear them before seeing them. Wooyoung was almost screaming as he was telling San to let him go to the teddy bear booth. He wanted to get the blue shark Vernon lost, but San wasn’t letting him as he had spent too much money already. Seonghwa and I looked at each other before we burst out laughing.

He shook his head and sighed tiredly, “I better go and do some damage control before we get kicked out.”

I laughed and nodded, ushering him away, “When are you going to the Haunted House?”

Seonghwa glanced at his wrist watch, “In about ten minutes.”

“Oh, that’s great! Us too!” Seonghwa had an excited smile on his face as he waved at me and quickly ran up to San and Wooyoung, who were full on arguing by now. I chuckled and shook my head, but quickly jumped when someone gripped my arm.

“Who was that?” Wonwoo’s deep voice whispered in my ear and I turned to face him with a grin.

“Seonghwa!” I answered him and Wonwoo hummed as he released me and looked after Seonghwa who was now standing in between San and Wooyoung, talking and making exaggerated hand gestures. I had to laugh as I watched them. Wonwoo had known about Seonghwa, but he’s never seen him in person. Wonwoo and I started dating a few days after Seonghwa moved away.

“And those two idiots are his best friends, San and Wooyoung.” I explained to Wonwoo as he started eating our popcorn, “They are very loud, argue almost all the time and like to cause trouble. Poor Seonghwa…sometimes I pity him for having left him alone with those two devils.”

Wonwoo gave me a quick glance before he interlaced our fingers and pulled me away, walking us towards the Haunted House, “Well you’re not their mother, so I’m glad I stole you away.”

I rolled my eyes and gave Wonwoo a look, “You didn’t steal me away, dumbass, Seonghwa and I had broken up a year before I started dating you. The only thing you stole is my heart.”

My last comment brought a smug grin on Wonwoo’s lips and he kissed me before acting like nothing happened, “I love you.”

I laughed and leaned closer to him, “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you.”

Wonwoo looked at me from the corner of his eyes, “You did.”

“No, I didn’t.” I shook my head and pouted at him.

“Yes, you did.”

“How could I, everyone is so loud and you were speaking so quietly.”

“I love you.” Wonwoo said with a groan, louder this time, and I giggled as I punched his stomach playfully and grabbed some popcorn into my hands. He rolled his eyes and rested his arm around my shoulders as we spotted the others in front of the Haunted House staying in line and joined them.

The Haunted House was a twenty-minute walk and it was quite well done. I got a good scare right as we started the tour, a killer doctor jumped in front of Wonwoo and I, and I screamed the loudest, scaring Sana and Vernon who were behind us. Wooyoung and San, who were at the front with Seonghwa, started laughing at me and I stuck my tongue out at Wooyoung. However, he got his payback when a black fake spider was dropped on his head and he almost passed out from screaming so loud, making the whole group erupt in loud laughter. Vernon seemed to like their vibes as he dragged Sana to the front to be with them and I chuckled as I looked at Wonwoo.

“San and Wooyoung can be fun people, but they tire you out very quickly.” I told my boyfriend as we walked through a very dark zone, ghostly voices coming from the speakers. I was holding his hand tightly and I could feel his shoulder grazing mine lightly.

“Did you spend a lot of time with them?” He asked curiously.

“I did,” I chuckled, remembering all the fun I used to have with them and Seonghwa, “On Friday’s we’d go to the diner and after we’d go karting, it was a lot of fun. It was a tradition of ours which was started by Wooyoung.”

“Sounds nice,” Wonwoo muttered and then I felt him squeezing my hand when we heard footsteps running behind us, “Why don’t we have something similar?”

His question made me think. I didn’t exactly know, maybe because Wonwoo didn’t invite me to hang out with his friends quite often, so I wasn’t very close to them besides Soonyoung, “I don’t know, I figured you don’t like it when I hang out with you and your friends.”

“That’s not true,” Wonwoo scoffed as a marionette was hung in front of us, dangling limply and I flinched, “I don’t mind you hanging out with us.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I told him as we were partially blinded by green neon lights, “You never told me that though. And you never invited me out with you guys either…”

Wonwoo was silent as he glanced at me and stepped in front of me when a man dressed in Frankenstein ran towards us. I could hear Sana giggling in the next room and I pulled Wonwoo after me, entering the room just in time to see Wooyoung threateningly throwing punches at a skeleton and cussing at it. San was laughing loudly and Seonghwa was apologizing to the masked man as he clutched his shoulder. Sana and Vernon were watching it unfold with amusement, and I chuckled as Wonwoo and I approached them.

“What did he do this time?” I asked Seonghwa while pointing at Wooyoung, but it was San who answered me.

“The vampire jumped out of its coffin and Wooyoung punched it.” It made me laugh too as Seonghwa dragged his friend away from the skeleton before bowing at the vampire guy again. The guy just told us to go on and went back inside his coffin.

“Ah, Y/N, finally!” Wooyoung exclaimed once he saw me talking to San and ran up to me, throwing his arm around my shoulders as he pulled me with himself to the front. I glanced back at Wonwoo, but he just smiled and nodded, joining Vernon and Sana at the back of the group. Soonyoung and the other three people who came with us seemed to be much more ahead of us, so our little group stuck together.

“I hear you’ve been causing problems all night long, Wooyoung.” I narrowed my eyes at my friend and he chuckled, placing a hand on his chest.

“Non-sense, was it Seonghwa who told you that? You know he’s always lying and overreacting!” I chuckled as Seonghwa slapped the back of Wooyoung’s head and San glanced back at us with a grin before he opened the next door. The room was pitch black and I gulped, a bit nervous about entering it. I knew Wooyoung wouldn’t release me, he knew I hated the dark, but I still preferred being with Wonwoo right now.

“It’s good that our gang is back together.” It was San who was talking and I lightly ran into him as he stopped to wait for us. He seemed unbothered by the whole tour and was just laughing at everything and making fun of Wooyoung any chance he got.

“Yeah, I missed you.” Wooyoung said and squeezed my shoulder as I lightly held onto his hoodie, scared a bit. I knew Seonghwa was next to me, on my left, and San in front of me and the others behind, but I still felt uneasy.

“I missed you too, although you’re being a pain in the ass—”

“Am not!” Wooyoung exclaimed and soon screamed as a strong light was flashed in our faces and fake bats came flying towards us. I screamed too and ducked as I held onto my head, scared they’d get entangled into my braided hair. San was laughing as he caught one and started antagonizing Wooyoung with it, running after him as they ran into the next room. Seonghwa was quick to approach me and help me stand, but Wonwoo was by my side instantly, and the two looked at each other as each held my arm. I chuckled awkwardly and shook off their grips, standing up on my own.

“Sorry, I hate bats.” I muttered embarrassed as Vernon and Sana walked by us.

“I know.” Both boys said at the same time and I felt awkward as they looked at each other before Wonwoo cleared his throat and Seonghwa scratched his nape.

“Uhm, let’s go?” I proposed and they both nodded as we took off, Seonghwa going in front of us as I intertwined my fingers with Wonwoo, who was glaring at the back of my ex-boyfriend’s head.

“Stop it.” I whispered at Wonwoo and his jaw clenched, “Wonwoo, you know he means no harm.”

“I don’t like it when other guys touch you, Y/N.” Wonwoo snapped at me and I sighed, side eyeing him.

“Jesus, he just tried to help me up—”

“I was there already; he didn’t have to.” Wonwoo’s voice raised lightly and I stopped walking and faced him as I was sure Seonghwa could hear it all and I didn’t want to make him feel more uncomfortable.

“Can you stop acting like this? Have I given you any reason to be jealous, Wonwoo?” I called out my boyfriend and he rolled his eyes, releasing my hand.

“You have no trouble being so friendly with him.”

“Maybe because we remained friends?!” I exclaimed and Wonwoo just sighed, walking by me, “Seriously?”

“What? I’m curious what’s in the next room.” He muttered and I rolled my eyes as I followed after him. What a way to ruin the little fun I started having. I just sighed as I followed behind Wonwoo, not even interested anymore in the Haunted House and all of the different masked people jumping out in front of me, trying to scare me. Seonghwa was back at the front, San and Wooyoung pulling him in all kinds of directions as he didn’t turn around anymore, keeping his distance. I felt bad for him and reminded myself to apologize for Wonwoo’s behavior, reassuring him that he did nothing wrong and Wonwoo sometimes overreacted. There were flashing lights in the room we were in currently and ghosts hung from the ceiling as people were screaming through the speakers. I sighed and shielded my eyes, the lights hurting them as I hurried towards the last door. The others were outside already and I was left behind, I didn’t notice that everyone walked out while I was getting lost in my thoughts. Just as I was about to touch the doorknob, a dressed up person jumped in front of me, blocking my way. I gasped and jumped back, eyes widening when I came face to face with a Ghostface. The person wore a black gown and a real looking knife was in its hand. My heart started racing and I started backing away from the person, getting flashbacks from the night they had shown up at my house.

“What—what are you—” The Ghostface chuckled and slowly approached me.

“I’m a Ghostface.” The voice was still as glitchy, but lower than the one I had talked to on the phone, “Hello, beautiful.”

I shuddered at the words and gulped, “Who are you?”

The person behind the mask chuckled and twirled around, “An actor? Hired by the Haunted House?”

My heart was racing, but their words seemed to calm me down a little bit. Of course, we were at the Haunted House and this person was an actor hired to scare people. And they did a good job at scaring me.

“Right, sorry—” I chuckled, “You gave me a good scare.”

“That’s my job.” The Ghostface bowed and I smiled, “Did you enjoy the tour?”

“Are you this nice and talkative with everyone?” I raised my eyebrows as I held my hands behind my back. The Ghostface started circling me, making me turn my head to see them.

“Only with the beautiful ones.” They answered and I rolled my eyes, not into cheesy flirting.

“How cheesy.” I muttered and the Ghostface seemed to laugh as they came to a stop in front of me. It looked as they looked down before raising their head back up and I saw the knife glinting in the dim light as it lightly touched my chin and they raised my head with it. The air caught in my throat a little as I felt the sturdiness of the knife. It was either a very real looking and feeling prop or it was a real knife.

“And tell me…do you like bad guys?” The Ghostface asked smugly and I laughed nervously.

“Not really.”

“Isn’t your boyfriend a bad boy?” Well, that’s not how I’d describe Wonwoo if someone asked me. He looked like a bad boy, but he was actually a very nice and loving guy.

“Not really,” I chuckled and quietly let out a sigh when the person lowered the knife from my chin, “He’s well raised and really nice.”

“And do you love him?” Wasn’t this Ghostface a little too curious?

“Of course I do.” I said matter of factly and the Ghostface hummed just as the door opened. Light poured in from the outside and I squinted until the door was closed again. I instantly recognized the person once my eyes adjusted to the light again, it was Seonghwa.

“Y/N, are you alright?” He asked worriedly as he walked up to me, “I saw you weren’t with the group and nobody knew where you were.”

I smiled at him sweetly and nodded, “Yeah, I’m fine. I just fell behind accidentally and Ghostface over there seemed to be quite interested.”

Seonghwa looked over to where the Ghostface stood and his eyebrows furrowed, “Oh? They didn’t show up when we walked through this room.”

I turned to look at the Ghostface as well and I gulped as dread washed over me, slowly realizing what was happening, “Seonghwa—” But before I could scream at him to run, the Ghostface charged at us and I yelped as they pushed me to the ground and pinned Seonghwa to the wall. I watched wide eyed as Seonghwa struggled against them and as I got to my feet, I saw the Ghostface raise their knife. My heart stopped for a second and I didn’t even realize I had screamed as the knife slashed Seonghwa’s abdomen. He cried out in pain and the Ghostface stepped back a bit as he angled their knife at Seonghwa’s stomach. I was shaking, but I couldn’t just sit on the ground and watch as they murder my ex-boyfriend.

“Y/N, run!” Seonghwa exclaimed as the Ghostface poked his stomach, but I was fast enough and got up in time and ran over, knocking the Ghostface aside. They gasped in surprise and I could feel their gaze burning into me through the mask. I turned to face Seonghwa and with shaky hands caught him as he slid down the wall.

“No, Seonghwa!” I exclaimed, hand getting bloody as I pressed it against his smaller wound, momentarily not knowing what to do.

“Get out!” Seonghwa whispered as he grimaced in pain, pulling out his phone. I turned around and came face to face with the Ghostface, gasping at the proximity. I didn’t know who was behind the mask, but I wasn’t about to go down without a fight. I punched their shoulder and took the knife out of their hand, throwing it on the ground as I started punching their abdomen. The Ghostface groaned and tried catching my hands, struggling to do so until they had me pinned against the wall. I tried fighting myself out of their hold, but they were stronger.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” The Ghostface said breathlessly and I glared at them, kneeling them, making them double over.

“You shouldn’t have hurt my friends!” I screamed and kneeled them in the stomach this time, sending the person onto the ground. I ran back to Seonghwa and saw him trying to call the cops, but there was no signal inside.

“Let’s go.” I whispered and tried to control my shaking as I attempted to help Seonghwa stand, but just as he warned me, I was tackled to the ground. I screamed again, and suddenly, a hand was muffling my screams. A bare hand. Long fingers, warm, soft palm. My heart was beating like crazy and I felt a tear run down my cheeks when I noticed the Ghostface holding the knife again. Was I about to die too? But they didn’t move, we were just staring at each other. The hold on my mouth seemed to loosen and I glanced down at it, heart jumping in my throat when I noticed two long, red scratches on the person’s hand. Why did they look like cat scratches? Why did their hand feel like Wonwoo’s? A groan to our right got both of our attention and I saw Seonghwa approaching us, almost stumbling, but as the Ghostface got off of me, Seonghwa swung his fist at the person’s jaw, sending them stumbling into the wall. I got up and grabbed Seonghwa, placing his arm around my shoulders as I held his hip and we made a run for the exit. He was groaning in pain but still remained strong as we could hear the Ghostface shuffling around and catching up with us, but just as I felt them gripping onto Seonghwa’s shoulder, I kicked the door open, light flooding the room. Everyone was standing there, waiting for us probably, and when they saw the blood coating Seonghwa’s torso and my hands, chaos erupted. Wooyoung ran up to us in despair and started shouting things, asking what happened as I yelled out for them to call an ambulance. Vernon rushed up to us and helped Wooyoung as they took Seonghwa’s weight off of me and carefully placed him on a nearby bench as San called for an ambulance. Sana was by my side instantly and I realized my whole body was shaking as I looked around for familiar faces. She was talking to me, but I was searching for one person. Jeonghan and Minghao looked shocked as they stood helplessly by the bench, watching Seonghwa struggling to stay awake. Wooyoung was freaking out and San was holding onto him tightly as they talked to Seonghwa, trying to divert his attention from the pain. Vernon was trying to stop the bleeding as his father is a doctor and he knows this and that. Soonyoung was off to the side, looking almost sick yet unimpressed as he talked on the phone with someone. And Sana was hugging me tightly, saying reassuring things to me which I was unable to hear due to my ears ringing. Wonwoo. Wonwoo wasn’t anywhere to be seen. I gulped and hugged Sana back, hearing the ambulance sirens in the distance. Wonwoo wasn’t here with us.

My mother was reluctant to let me go to school the next day, understandably so. I barely got any sleep after last night’s incident. As Seonghwa was placed inside the ambulance and driven to a hospital, two detectives approached the rest of us and started their questioning. We were brought to the side separately and asked to retell our whole night. Of course, I was the one they questioned first as they knew I was inside with Seonghwa when the attack happened. I was shaken up and on the verge of crying, but surprisingly, Wooyoung and San stood by my side and tried to cheer me up until my mother got to us. After finishing my retelling of story, I walked to the side and sat down, curling into a ball as I felt arms holding me. It was Sana and she remained quiet as she tried to offer me some support. I appreciated her gesture, but I would’ve preferred being left alone at the moment. My mind was swirling with questions and I was frightened out of my mind. Wonwoo was nowhere to be seen and I couldn’t help but think he was the one behind the mask. Could it really be my boyfriend? The killer? I bit my lower lip at the thought and my head whipped up as I heard Wonwoo’s deep voice, laced with terror and panic as he was asking around for me. Just as we made eye contact, the two detectives stepped in front of him and brought him aside to question him as well. I could feel his gaze on me, but my mother had arrived and she was by my side in an instant, helping me up and she gave me tightest hug ever. I started crying when I felt her arms around me and she quietly shushed me, thanking Sana for sitting with me. She noticed San and Wooyoung too, nodding at them as a small greeting before she walked me towards her car. I didn’t talk to Wonwoo that night, but perhaps it was good, because I had no idea what I could’ve said to him.

Mom insisted on driving me to school this morning and I didn’t object; I wasn’t in the mood to ride the bus and act as if I didn’t feel my classmates burning gazes. I knew everyone would whisper about me again. I hated this all. I hated the killer. I hated that Yerim wasn’t here. And I hated the fact that I was helpless and couldn’t help a person who once was so dear to me. Thankfully, Seonghwa got to the hospital in time as he was losing blood fast and since he was stabilized quite quickly, he’d survive. I asked my mother to stop by his ward from time to time, to check up on him. She complied happily and told me she’d update me; I was really thankful. Before getting out of her car, I kissed my mother’s cheek, making her smile sadly at me. I had dark bags underneath my eyes and despite tying my hair up, it looked like a mess. I felt miserable, and I looked miserable. The baggy clothes weren’t helping much to offer me comfort, all I could do was sigh and pull the hood of my hoodie over my head and walk to my classroom. Everyone seemed to have eagle eyes, because as soon as I opened the entrance door, people noticed me. Some started instantly whispering, there were a few who were ignoring me or stepping out of my way as if I would hurt them, some would stop conversing and stare at me like I was some sort of freak. I hung my head low and walked up to my locker, opening it to place my backpack inside it. I sighed as I got my science book and two notebooks out, off to walk to my classroom. Sana texted me that she wasn’t feeling well and she wouldn’t attend school today, apologizing for leaving me alone. I didn’t text her back, but I appreciated her letting me know. Surprisingly it was San and Wooyoung who approached me as I was walking up the stairs.

“Couldn’t sleep?” I heard San asking me and I raised my head, eyes wide.

“Oh, I didn’t see you—” Wooyoung had a warm smile on his lips and I looked back down at the ground, “Yeah, I couldn’t sleep.”

“Us neither.” Wooyoung muttered and San cleared his throat, “We visited Seonghwa before coming to school.”

“How is he?” I asked quickly, looking back up at the two boys.

“He’s in pain, but he’s doing good despite that huge cut—” San elbowed Wooyoung and I gulped, averting my eyes from them, “I mean, he’s fine, don’t worry. He asked us to tell you that he’s grateful you saved him and he hopes you’ll visit him when you feel ready.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded at the two boys wordlessly, “Thank you.”

“No problem, you know where to find us.” San smiled and bumped his shoulder with mine lightly as we got to my floor, they had to go up one more flight of stairs. I nodded at them and they waved as they took off. I sighed and took off too, headed towards my classroom, the hallway not as packed as downstairs. A few students glanced at me but seemed to ignore me mostly, it made me feel slightly better. Not too good, but at least they weren’t staring or whispering. As I looked up, I suddenly froze. Wonwoo. He was standing next to my classroom’s door, leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets as he was biting his lip, looking anxious. I gulped and slowly approached him, wary still. His head turned and when he noticed me he pushed off the wall and approached me, instantly pulling me into a hug. I felt tears in my eyes as I buried my head in his chest and Wonwoo rubbed my back up and down. I grabbed his jacket and tried to keep silent as I started crying, scared and confused. How could I think it was Wonwoo? My loving boyfriend. I was so scared something happened to him. But why was he not outside when everybody else was?

“I’m so glad—” Wonwoo’s voice was low and raspy, as if he had been screaming all night long, “I’m so glad you’re alright. I was so scared—I’m sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you from that criminal, I—”

“Where were you?” I found myself whispering, desperately needing an answer to this one question only.

Wonwoo remained silent before he sighed, “I caught up with Soonyoung and then I went to the bathroom, when I got back everything had already happened—”

“Okay,” I whispered and sniffed, pulling my head back to look at him, “Don’t blame yourself. I’m fine and Seonghwa will recover.”

Wonwoo’s jaw clenched and as I was looking up at him, my eyes fell on his jawline. There was a small bruise forming, slightly greenish already. My eyebrows furrowed and I felt my heart starting to beat fast. Seonghwa—he punched the Ghostface in the jaw, same exact location, before we ran out. I gulped, hands slightly shaking, as I took Wonwoo’s right hand and interlaced our fingers, bringing it up to my eye level. Wonwoo watched me wordlessly, eyebrows slightly furrowed. I maintained eye contact as I brought his hand to my lips, pressing a kiss against it. And just before lowering it, I glanced down, and my blood ran cold. There. On his hand. Red scratches which Byeol left on him when they were playing. His hand, bare. Long fingers, warm, soft palm. I shivered and stepped back, releasing his hand as I tried to act nonchalant. Wonwoo watched me confused as I stumbled over my words.

“I—I have to go—” I opened the classroom door, avoiding eye contact, “I’m late.”

“Y/N—” But I stepped inside the classroom and slammed the door shut, biting my lower lip, whole body shaking as I approached my desk and sat down. It was Wonwoo last night. Right? Was it really him? What do I do?

My mother tried to switch her shifts with a nurse she was friends with, but she couldn’t make it. She didn’t want to take the night shift tonight, worried to leave me home alone, but I reassured her I would be fine. In fact, I felt like shit and didn’t want to be alone, but remained silent and decided to have a Harry Potter marathon, that way I wouldn’t fall asleep and could wait for my mother to return home in the morning. It was a Friday, so it would work out. I desperately needed a good sleep, but I could deal with that later. I cooked some dinner for myself and played with Byeol, but after she got bored and went to sleep in my room, I decided to take a shower and start the movie marathon. I definitely lost track of time while showering, because my phone kept ringing, but I didn’t feel like answering. My mother would never call me while working, so I knew it was Wonwoo. But I didn’t want to talk to him. My mind was a mess and I didn’t know what to believe anymore. He couldn’t be the killer, but some signs were pointing at him and it was eating me up alive. I was scared and confused. My gut told me to sleep on it and ask him tomorrow, but for some reason staying away from him felt most comforting. Getting out of the shower I got dressed in sweatpants and Yerim’s favorite pink hoodie, eyeing Wonwoo’s sweater resting on my chair. He left it here when he slept over and told me to keep it until he’d sleep over again. Brushing my fingers against it as I towel dried my hair with one hand, I shivered. Its scent once brought comfort, but now I felt uncomfortable. Byeol was sitting on my bed and for once it wasn’t storming outside, I was thankful. Just as I placed my towel on my desk, my phone rang again. I sighed and walked up to it as it was charging on my nightstand, and despite expecting it to be Wonwoo calling, it was an unknown number. My eyebrows furrowed and my heart started racing as I remembered the time when I spoke with the Ghostface on Yerim’s phone. I took my phone and walked to the window, looking through the curtain.

“Hello?” I asked as I picked up the call, chewing on my lip. There was some heavy breathing on the other side, freaking me out.

“Hi.” I froze for a second as the Ghostface’s robotic voice came through the phone. What did they want? Were they here to kill me? The thought sent panic through my body and I quickly made sure my window was locked before pulling down the blinds as well.

“What do you want?” I demanded, voice shaking but still harsh.

The Ghostface chuckled, “You gone.”

I shuddered as tears suddenly sprung into my eyes, “You killed Yerim, didn’t you?”

“I did.” Was their answer and I sniffed, wiping away a tear as I raced down the stairs, to make sure all doors were locked.

“Why?”

“Multiple reasons,” The Ghostface sighed as I checked the front door, “One, she was always rude to me. Two, she never gave me a chance and the list just goes on, Y/N.”

“So you killed her.” I said accusingly, checking the door in the living room as well. It wasn’t locked, but I locked it now and pulled the curtains closed as well.

“Well she pissed me off to my last nerve, didn’t have much off a choice—”

“You don’t kill someone because they piss you off!” I screamed into the phone, shaking and fuming. How could they?! Kill someone because they pissed them off?! This is not how life works.

“I do.” The Ghostface laughed and I felt like screaming.

“What do you want?” I repeated, body shaking from anger and fear too.

“To kill you, honestly, I’ve had enough of you too.” I gulped and turned by back to the door, walking back outside in the hallway.

“I won’t go down easy.” I muttered and the Ghostface just laughed.

“A fragile girl can’t do much damage to me, sweetheart.” They said and I chuckled sarcastically.

“You’ll have to wait for another night then, you can’t come in if the doors and windows are all locked.”

“They are locked, now.” I froze, heart thumping fast, “But they weren’t until you locked the one in the living room just minutes ago.”

The voice now didn’t come through the phone only, they were here. Inside. Close. Too close. Shakingly, I slowly turned towards the kitchen entrance, and screamed. The same person from the Haunted House was standing in the doorway of my kitchen. Black gown and a Ghostface mask, glows, and a sharp knife in their hand. The Ghostface laughed, dropping the phone as it took off towards me and I panicked, showing the phone in the hoodie’s pocket as I started running, headed for the laundry room. I quickly entered and locked the door, whimpering when the person started pounding on it. Why did they want to kill me? What did I do? Who was behind the mask? As I reached for my phone to call the police, the pounding stopped, the sudden silence making me jump. Did they leave already?

“If you don’t come out, I’ll start with Byeol.” I whimpered and covered my lips, tears streaming down my cheeks at the thought of the person killing my cat. How did they know her name? I couldn’t let them kill her, she was my everything, “I’m headed to find her—”

“Stop!” I screamed and gripped the doorknob, “I’ll come out, just don’t hurt her.”

The Ghostface laughed and I heard them grumbling, “Stupid people with love for their stupid animals.”

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, readying myself to face the criminal on the other side of the door. If I had to die tonight, then I would. But I wouldn’t go down without a fight. I was feeling extremely hot in the hoodie, but it was Yerim’s, and all of a sudden, a wave of bravery washed over me as if Yerim was telling me that I could do it, that I could survive. If she believed in me, then I could believe in myself too. Wiping my stray tears away, I unlocked the door. The click of it seemed to be so loud in the silence, and with shaking hands, I pushed open the door. It opened very slowly and I held onto the doorknob tightly. There it was. The Ghostface, leaning against the wall. I couldn’t see their face, but I could swear they were smirking. I was glaring at them, breathing hard as I released the doorknob.

“There you are.” They said in a sing song voice, suddenly raising their knife. It was my cue to run off. And so I did just that, I took off, and ran towards the kitchen. The only problem was that it had no doors and two entrances. My goal was to get the Ghostface to follow me outside, far away from my cat and close enough to other people to see and call the cops for me. Their loud thumping made it obvious enough that they were following me and I stopped in front of the sink, the counter putting distance between us. Nobody said anything, we just stared each other down. My muscles were tense and I felt the adrenaline kicking in, making my shaking even worse. Before the Ghostface could react, I took off again, running for the door. I barely got in the doorway, when a hand gripped my hair and I was hauled back. I cried out in pain and quickly groaned as I was thrown on the floor.

“Yerim screamed a lot more than you, you know?” The Ghostface taunted and I sneered at them as I got up, getting backed into the wall. What could I do? Take their knife would be an option. The Ghostface raised the knife and lightly grazed it against my neck, making me gasp. I was breathing through my mouth, barely able to think of my next move. They raised their other hand and gripped my neck, pulling our faces close to each other.

“But you both seem to be just as dumb—” And just like that I headbutted them. I didn’t wait for them to finish the sentence or plunge the knife in my stomach. The person stumbled backwards and dropped their knife in shock. What a dumb move. I reacted faster and picked it up in a flash, pointing it at them.

“How does it feel to have your own weapon pointed at you?” I hissed and the Ghostface groaned, starting to stomp their feet. Were they seriously throwing a tantrum right now? I watched confused, but stayed alert.

“You’re not ruining my fun tonight, Y/N!” They screamed and charged at me. The smart thing to do would’ve been running away and out of the house, but I froze. If I had the knife, could they still kill me? Of course, there were many ways to do that, but my brain went blank. And just last second, I dropped the knife, scared to stab anyone. I wasn’t a killer; I couldn’t do it. The Ghostface grabbed my neck and started squeezing it, but I was fighting back. I wasn’t about to die. I tried pushing him backwards, and it was working. The Ghostface was muttering things I couldn’t understand, but I stumbled and stepped on their long gown. The person tripped over my leg and before I knew it, their hands were gone from my neck and they were falling backwards. I gasped and watched as the person hit their head on the edge of the counter and fell to the floor limply. I stood shocked, not knowing what to do. They weren’t moving anymore, I carefully pushed their leg with my foot, but they didn’t react. I approached them, heart racing and forehead sweaty as I leaned down and touched the mask. I had to know. I had to know who killed my best friend, Mina, Seungkwan and tried to kill Seonghwa and now me. So, without thinking for another second, I ripped the mask off. I felt my body going numb at the sight, ears ringing as I stared down at the blond laying unconsciously on my kitchen floor. My lips started trembling and my body started shaking more violently as I clutched the mask tightly, hand hurting from the force. Kwon Soonyoung lay unconscious in front of me. Blood was slowly seeping from underneath his head. How could it be him? I started crying loudly and threw the Ghostface mask on the floor, stomping on it and screaming. How could he kill Yerim?! How could he! In all the ruckus and screaming, Byeol woke up and her loud meows were the ones which brought me back to reality. She was staying away, gazing at me with her big eyes, meowing loudly. I was sobbing and started walking towards her, when the doorbell rang. Once. Twice. Thrice. Knocking. Panicked screaming. Asking to be let inside. The voice of my boyfriend. Jeon Wonwoo. My boyfriend. Acting without much thinking, I ran up to the door and unlocked it, throwing it open. Wonwoo was panting and he gasped when he saw me. I flung myself into his body, hugging him tightly and crying loudly. He hesitated for a second before wrapping his arms around me and slowly walking me inside the house, closing the door behind us. I was crying, I couldn’t do anything else. Soonyoung killed my best friend because she didn’t like him back. Because she didn’t want to date him. Who kills for a reason like that! I couldn’t hear Byeol meowing anymore, Wonwoo was caressing my head and kissing it softly, muttering words to calm me down. I found my breath again and pulled away, finding comfort in his arms. He was here. He was here to witness it all. He was here to take Byeol and I away from this nightmare.

“He—he did—it.” I stuttered out, body shaking, “Soonyoung. He killed—everyone.”

Wonwoo’s face went blank as he looked towards the kitchen entrance, but the only thing he could see from here was the destroyed Ghostface mask on the floor. His grip seemed to loosen around me as he looked back at me.

“Soonyoung killed Yerim, Wonwoo.” I whispered as I wiped my tears away, “He killed Mina and—”

“He didn’t kill Mina.” Wonwoo’s voice was void of any emotion. I shivered, “He didn’t try to kill Seonghwa either.”

I shook my head, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “What—what are you saying? He’s the criminal, he—” I winced when Wonwoo’s grip suddenly turned painful on my arms, and I stepped back. His bruise on his jaw was now a dark blue, it looked like it hurt a lot. The cat scratches on his hand were still red.

“You—” I gasped and slapped his hands away, taking a step back, “You killed—Mina and Seonghwa—”

“I failed to kill that bastard, but it’s not too late yet.” I started shaking my head, feeling like my whole world was ending.

“What are you saying, Wonwoo—” Suddenly he was all up in my face, holding my chin roughly as he made me look him in the eyes. His expression scared me. His eyes were almost black and manic as he stared into mine. His lips were curled into an amused sneer and all warmth had disappeared from his aura. This wasn’t Wonwoo. This wasn’t my boyfriend. This was someone else. Someone I didn’t know and was scared off.

“I killed Mina. I tried to kill Seonghwa and now—” His pause made me gulp, his voice was quiet when he continued, “I have to kill you too.”

I whimpered and started shaking my head, gripping his wrist, “No, Wonwoo—Listen to me, you’re not like this, I can—”

“How would you know what I am like when I never allowed you to see the real me?” His words felt like someone dropped a cold ice bucket on me, numbness washed over my whole body. Was it all fake? All this time? Everything between us?

“Did you ever love me?” I found myself whispering, it was the least important thing to know right now, but I had to know.

“I love you more than I have ever loved anyone.” I sniffled, heart breaking and head spinning. Before I could react in any way, Wonwoo’s lips crashed against mine. I was disgusted, I didn’t want to be kissing him. But I couldn’t help myself. I still loved him despite his terrible confession. Despite him saying he wanted to kill me, I still loved him. So I kissed him back with the same fire he was kissing me, our lips crashing against each other’s messily, painfully. Maybe it was our last goodbye, maybe it wasn’t. I didn’t know what this kiss meant, until I felt Wonwoo’s hands around my neck and my eyes flew open. He was squeezing me, not allowing an ounce of air into my lungs. I tried pulling my head back, but he wasn’t letting me. He was still kissing me, but I couldn’t do the same. I clawed at his arms, gripping his wrists and yanking on them but he wasn’t budging. I started seeing black and I felt like throwing up, finally, Wonwoo’s lips left mine and I tried gasping for air but it wasn’t working. I tried talking, but it wasn’t working. I was going to die. In Yerim’s favorite hoodie, by the hands of my once lover. My grip fell from Wonwoo’s wrists and I felt my legs giving out, body limp. I didn’t want to die, I really didn’t. Not like this. I had no power, yet something so strong, as if someone knocked the last gust of wind out of my lungs, gave me the power to raise my knee and kneel Wonwoo in the groins. It might’ve been weak, but Wonwoo yelped loudly and released me, my body falling to the ground. I started coughing and gasping, holding my burning neck as my head hung low. My lungs were on fire and my eyes filled with tears as I filled my lungs desperately with air. Wonwoo was doubled over, groaning and hissing in pain. Perhaps I could escape him. Walk around him and out the door. So I tried, I got up from the ground, legs almost buckling, but I tried. I started walking, catching Wonwoo’s attention as his head whipped up and he reached for me, but I stepped back. He was starting to straighten up, still groaning, realizing I was getting better. I barely had any power, but I was starting to breathe again. He lunged for me and I realized walking in the kitchen was my best escape right now. So, I entered and my eyes fell on an unconscious Soonyoung, making me shudder again. I tried to run, but my legs felt heavy. I went to walk around the counter and grab a knife, but Wonwoo grabbed my shoulder and turned me around. The knife Soonyoung was holding was in his hands now. I shook my head at him and begged him to let me go. We couldn’t figure this out, but he had to let me go. If he loved me, he would’ve done that. But he didn’t want to. The knife was angled at my stomach and I took a deep breath, turning my hand into a fist. I had no power left in me anymore, this was my last shot at life. So, as Wonwoo raised the knife to stab me, I punched his jaw, just where Seonghwa had punched him yesterday, and grabbed the knife with my other hand out of his. He groaned loudly and looked at me with an animalistic look in his eyes. The knife was pointed at him and one move sealed the deal. I guess he didn’t notice I pointed the knife at him as he ran straight into it. We gasped at the same time and stared at each other wide eyed. I didn’t want to do this, but he gave me no other choice. I released the knife and watched as Wonwoo fell to his knees, starting to cry. He was begging me for forgiveness and asking me to love him, but I couldn’t hear him. My ears were ringing.

“Byeol! Byeol!” I was screaming at the top of my lungs, throat scratchy from getting chocked. I heard a faint meow coming from the living room and ran inside, looking for my cat, “Byeol, please come here!”

And she showed up, she crawled out from underneath the sofa and ran up to me, coming into my arms as I picked her up. I shushed her and ran towards the front door, not sparing another glance inside the kitchen as I grabbed my phone from Yerim’s hoodie’s pocket. I stumbled off the stairs on the porch as I started getting light headed, but I managed to dial the police.

“112, what’s your emergency?”

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creepzkilla · 10 months

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[BRIAN THOMAS, TOBY ROGERS, TIMOTHY WRIGHT x FEM! READER]

chapter warning. gore, death, mutilation, maggots, talk of killing an animal, gutting an animal.

wc. 7860

authors note. this fic gonna be long asf so buckle up. sorry its lowkey boring up yk its building suspense. any questions about the fic or concerns please submit an ask!

important, read. even though this is implied to be a female reader that has she/her pronouns, I suggest downloading this extension for Microsoft edge to replace [Y/N] as your name and to replace she/her with your preferred pronouns to make you feel more comfortable if you do not identify as a female.

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟏: 𝐇𝐄𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐌𝐀 𝐒𝐘𝐑𝐉𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐄

meaning. a mushroom that grows over decaying bodies

As the sun rose above the eastern horizon, casting its golden hues across the land, a lone car ventured forth on the winding roads leading to Grove, Oklahoma. The engine purred softly, its rhythmic hum blending harmoniously with the melody of nature. With the sounds of soft rock and country preoccupying the silence that the car held in its void. The silence was filled with the songs of Linda Ronstadt, and Deana Carter; two maestros of musical storytelling, graced the airwaves, serenading the passenger with a poignant repertoire of cherished memories. The tunes resounded with the recollections of sun-drenched summers spent in the Western fields, where her mother's berry farm unfurled its emerald charm.

[Y/N]’s mind wandered back to the days when the weathered white barn stood as a sentinel, and the family's nearly antique truck nestled alongside, an endearing relic from bygone eras. Each note carried her back to the sight of verdant paint curling and surrendering to the passage of time, revealing glimpses of raw metal beneath. She vividly recalled the delicate act of running her nails over the lifted layers of paint, peeling them away one by one, as if uncovering the hidden stories embedded within the truck's weathered facade.

In nothing but her nightgown, [Y/N] ventured out, her bare feet delicately dangling just beyond the worn-out Ford logo adorning the truck bed. Wandering through the fields, she traversed the rough terrain, her feet bearing the brunt of her barefoot journey. The berry saplings, a recurring sight in spring and summer, had now blossomed, displaying their succulent fruits as late summer approached. Yet before their transformation, the bushes stood tall, their leaves pointed and vigorous. Her path, confined to the Western fields, beckoned her toward the barn. Basking in abundant sunlight, the western expanse fostered accelerated growth, causing the saplings there to sprout thorns at a rapid pace. As a consequence, the girl’s feet endured the accumulation of mud and crusty blood, an undeniable testament to her traversing the formidable fields.

With dirtied feet and a stained nightgown, she embarked on her ritual every morning, just before the sun's radiant glow graced the sky. Ascending the antique truck, she found her perch, eagerly awaiting the mesmerizing spectacle of the sun's rays stretching across the vast expanse of land. Yet, amidst this ethereal beauty, her heart danced with anticipation for a different kind of awakening.

As the first glimmers of light began to peek over the horizon, a familiar melody filled the airwaves, heralding the start of a brand new day. Soft country tunes, like those sung by Tanya Tucker and The Judds, tenderly embraced her senses. However, her ears strained for one particular tune, a treasure she yearned for each morning at 8 AM.

And then it happened—John Denver's timeless classic, "Take Me Home, Country Roads," resounded through the airwaves, soothing her soul with its heartfelt lyrics. Sitting atop her vantage point, she became a symphony of joy, her voice bursting forth despite its imperfections. With every note, she poured her heart into the song, her little lungs valiantly attempting to reach every high and low.

Though [Y/N]’s singing may have lacked finesse, it mattered not, for her spirit soared with unbridled enthusiasm. Without pausing for breath, she sang the entire composition, as if on a sacred mission to carry its melody across the rolling hills and valleys. In those precious moments, the world was her stage, and she, the star of her own enchanting performance.

Queens ensemble of trumpets and brass instruments harmoniously faded into a gentle hum, merging with the engine's subtle vibrations. With every turn of the wheel, a captivating journey unfolded, transporting her to an enchanting realm where time lost its urgency, and the world transformed into a vibrant symphony of colors.

[Y/N]’s grip on the steering wheel remained relaxed, a testament to her confidence in navigating the road ahead. However, the weight of exhaustion was evident beneath her eyes, concealed by bags that hung like heavy burdens. Her gaze alternated between the winding road and the small, blaring red text of the clock on her car monitor: 7:59 A.M.

Anxiously, her fingers drummed against the supple leather steering wheel, mirroring the racing beat of her heart. Her eyes darted back and forth, desperately seeking confirmation of the fleeting minutes. As the hum of the engine threatened to engulf her senses, its dominance was suddenly overpowered by the opening notes of John Denver's "Take Me Home, Country Roads."

In that moment, her attention was captivated by the red letters once more, and they revealed the time: 8:00 A.M. A gentle hum escaped her lips, akin to a sigh of relief, as she muttered along with the song's lyrics, embracing them with unwavering devotion. Without pausing to catch her breath, she sang along, infusing her voice with the song's nostalgic melodies.

The road stretched out like an asphalt ribbon, carving its way through sprawling meadows and rolling hills. Fields of emerald green extended as far as the eye could see, adorned with delicate wildflowers that danced in the gentle breeze. The air, crisp and invigorating, carried with it the scent of earth and the promise of new beginnings.

As the car glided forward, the scenery unfolded like pages in a vivid tapestry.Towering trees lined the roadside, their branches stretching toward the heavens like ancient sentinels. Leaves shimmered with a kaleidoscope of autumnal shades, painting the landscape with fiery reds, burnt oranges, and golden yellows. The trees seemed to whisper secrets to one another, their rustling leaves creating a symphony of nature's own design.

The road wound its way up and down gentle slopes, revealing panoramic vistas that stole the breath away. Mountain ranges stood majestically in the distance, their peaks kissed by the wisps of ethereal clouds. They stood as guardians of the landscape, their stony faces etched with the stories of ages gone by. But nothing could compare to Grand Lake.

The bridge, spanning what felt like endless miles, gracefully arched over the water, its reflection shimmering in the gentle waves. As if in a dance, a multitude of boats navigated the water's expanse, trailing wakes that glistened in the crystalline depths, mirroring the celestial azure above and the passing cars on the bridge. The radiant spectacle transformed the water into an irrefutably luminous spectacle. It seemed as though liquid silver veins intricately intertwined with the land, carrying the harmonious melodies of life and the captivating tales of the creatures that resided within its mysterious depths. Geese gracefully etched invisible patterns against the vast canvas of the heavens, casting a mesmerizing spell on the onlookers below.

The scratching of gears wound up, blending into the symphony of sound, as the window glass slowly rolled down. The mechanical protest produced a terrible screeching sound, reminiscent of an animal's anguished cry, piercing the air and capturing her attention. Her eyes widened, captivated by the scene that unfolded before her.

Inhaling deeply, she savored the dewy summer air that gracefully entered her lungs, infusing her with an ardent fervor. Each breath became an embrace of life itself. The atmosphere, cool and revitalizing, carried a tangible energy, blending the essence of earth with the promise of new beginnings. The aroma of raindrops and freshly cut grass intermingled, filling her senses with a harmonious fragrance that evoked a sense of contentment. As she exhaled, a sigh of satisfaction escaped her lips, releasing any lingering tension—contentment.

The car engine purred in agreement at the sight of landscape, the tranquility of and complete beauty was simply enchanting.

In a graceful display of poise and determination, she effortlessly steered the sleek vehicle away from the confines of the bustling main road, opting instead for a captivating detour onto a secluded single-lane path. As the tires glided over the uneven terrain, the verdant canopy of lush green forests enveloped the winding road.

Along this path, a humble dirt road emerged, veering away from the well-trodden route. Its weathered surface, pockmarked and rough, dictated a slower pace, Each jolt and tremor sent ripples of anticipation coursing through her veins, heightening her senses as she pressed on with unwavering resolve.

Gradually, the path unveiled a breathtaking vista, an opening that seemed to materialize from the very fabric of a storybook. A small pond, its crystalline waters shimmering under the gentle caress of the sunlight, beckoned with an irresistible allure. Nestled harmoniously by its side, a resplendent cabin emerged, a captivating testament to rustic beauty.

The cabin, although once a haven of tranquility, now appeared as a relic of forgotten memories, as if time itself had woven a shroud of neglect around its weathered exterior. Weeds triumphantly sprawled across the surroundings, their emerald tendrils dancing in the wind, while determined vines conquered the cabin's weathered facade, gracefully ascending its walls in a seemingly eternal embrace with nature itself.

In this serene tableau, the intrepid traveler found herself drawn to the essence of this forgotten refuge. Its dilapidated state only served to enhance the mystique, inviting her to uncover the tales that lay dormant within its timeworn walls. She sensed that beneath the encroaching foliage and the fading echoes of life, whispers of untold stories and echoes of forgotten laughter still resonated within, yearning for someone to listen, to breathe new life into their cherished existence.

As the shadows danced amidst the rustling leaves, she stepped out of her vehicle, her footsteps cautious yet filled with reverence as the gravel beneath her crunched. The air seemed to hold its breath in anticipation, as if the surroundings acknowledged her arrival, recognizing the significance of this encounter.

As her boots pressed against the gravel roadway, their crunch merged seamlessly with the harmonious of natural sounds that enveloped the picturesque surroundings. Advancing towards the cabin, each step resonated through the ancient floorboards of the front porch, releasing a melancholic creak as if the timeworn planks were exhaling with a subtle sigh. Weathered by countless footsteps, the wooden planks bore the indelible marks of their enduring journey, their once vibrant hue now transformed into a rich, dark oak shade. Inhaling deeply, she absorbed the essence of the place, her hand gravitating toward the doorknob of the screen door. For a fleeting moment, her gaze caught the old rocking chair, swaying gently in response to the playful caress of the breeze that meandered through the air. Finally, [Y/N]’s turned the the doorknob as the screen door creaked open—exhaling.

She inhaled, the sharp fragrance of pine and bleach wove its way into her senses, its pungency tugging at her nostrils. Their potent combination was not without consequence, for it provoked a reaction within her, eliciting a gentle scrunching of her nose.

The house exuded an eerie aura of both familiarity and enigma. She found herself standing in an expansive, open area cabin, devoid of hallways, which seemed to beckon her further inside. With each step, the immaculate cleanliness of the interior revealed itself, creating an almost surreal ambiance.

Her eyes were immediately drawn to the second floor, with its single set of stairs ascending like a mysterious gateway to another realm. On the ground floor, to her right, lay a quaint and compact kitchen, an intimate space that appeared to have witnessed the preparation of countless meals and conversations with its worn down appliances.

To her left, the living room stretched before her like a tapestry of memories. A comfortable couch adorned the space, an inviting haven where the occupants must have spent many hours engrossed in captivating tales or deep contemplation. In front of the couch, the heart of the room resided—a grand fireplace. Its flickering flames cast dancing shadows on the walls, seemingly whispering forgotten secrets.

Perched atop the fireplace, an old flat screen TV served as a window to the past, where characters from era that might have come alive came alive, momentarily escaping their scripted confines. The juxtaposition of the antiquated screen and the modernity it once represented painted a vivid portrait of the house's intriguing history.

Yet, despite all the intriguing elements that adorned the room, her gaze eventually shifted downward to the very foundation of the space. The wooden floor bore the weight of countless footsteps and stories, its grainy texture inviting her to feel the past as she walked upon it.

In the realm of her consciousness, she possessed an intimate knowledge of the house's history. In the era preceding her own, her beloved grandparents had entrusted its care to a man of enigmatic nature, one by the name of Willard Tucker. The townsfolk, adorned with tales and whispers, had deemed him a peculiar figure, cloaked in the shadows of perceived insanity. Yet, the precise details eluded her, veiled behind a shroud of uncertainty. All that remained were fragments of narratives whispered through the winds of time—stories suggesting that the man, his heart shattered by the loss of his wife, had departed for the fertile lands of West Virginia, seeking solace within the embrace of family ties, all while taking up farming.

She had guessed that Willard was the reason for the foul smell of cleaning products. Cleaning and scrubbing off residue so as to not leave it behind for the next tenant. That being her—a girl from small town Kansas in the depths of the west. However, she secretly cursed Willard for using so much of the cleaning product.

Upstairs and to the left, In the midst of simplicity, her bedroom exuded a quiet charm. Nestled against the wall, a regal queen-sized bed commanded the center stage, flanked by two modest nightstands. On the left, a generous window framed the wall, revealing a glimpse of the wooden sanctuary beyond.

As she gazed through the window's translucent pane, a tingle of anticipation caressed her being. It was as if the wistful tendrils of nature, woven into the fabric of the scene, beckoned her. The sheer simplicity of the room was deceptive, for within its unassuming boundaries. A shiver traced its delicate fingers along her spine, electrifying the air with a gentle chill.

She shook it off as paranoia.

As she ventured into the confines of the bathroom, her delicate fingers gently placed the small pills of respite into the trinity of mirrors ensconced within the cabinet. Ambien, a faithful companion in her torment against insomnia, found solace in this sanctuary. The affliction had haunted her since the early years of her high school debut when a merciless onslaught of ghastly nightmares infiltrated her slumber. Rarely, she could sleep without nightmares, rarely she could sleep at all. Not through a full night at least. In a valiant attempt to retain her grasp on reality, she adorned her abode with vibrant beacons of guidance, neon yellow sticky notes that served as simple reminders.

Before she placed the pills in their place, with meticulous care, she tenderly appraised the contents of each vial, her discerning gaze fixed upon the pills nested within. Twelve, she confirms. Retrieving a vibrant yellow sticky note from her pocket from her linen jacket, her blue pen danced across the note, etching the numbers upon the labels of both bottles with blue ink.

Nestled gently beside the cabin lies a quaint garden, albeit a modest one, marred by a profusion of resilient weeds. Throughout her family’s lineage, they had cultivated a bounteous farm teeming with an abundance of blossoms, nourishing produce, and succulent fruits. This trio, her mother, father, and herself, helmed a "berry utopia"—an expanse of verdant fields, stretching across countless acres, brimming with an assortment of fruit: blueberries, blackberries, vibrant raspberries, strawberries, and cranberries—each variety harvested with unyielding dedication.

As her gaze fell upon the garden, now overrun and wild, a surge of nostalgia washed over her like a familiar melody from a song. The sight evoked memories of her home, where there were fields upon fields of saplings of fresh berries. Determination welled up within her, fueled by a profound sense of connection. With resolute certainty, she understood that this hallowed ground deserved to be restored to its former glory. And then this became her mission.

With a hum, she nestled into the plush embrace into the seat of her car, releasing a wearied sigh that spoke volumes about her exhaustion. The weight of countless sleepless nights seemed to settle beneath her eyes, casting shadowy hues that deepened with each passing moment. Her gaze drifted toward the console, where a vibrant neon yellow sticky note had found a temporary perch upon the sleek gear shift. Delicately scripted upon its surface were two simple yet poignant words: "Call Mom."

A flicker of recollection sparked within her. Reminding her of the promise she had made to her worry-laden mother. A call was expected, an assurance of her safe arrival. Jane, her mother, possessed a peculiar knack for turning fret into an art form, yet in her own idiosyncratic way, her daughter desired nothing more than the act of vanishing without a trace.

In the tender embrace of Jane’s watchful care, her protective nature has forever been her daughters steadfast companion. Jane ardently desired for [Y/N] to remain by her side, nestled within the sanctuary of her love, tending to the bountiful fields of the farm until the end of days. Undoubtedly, affection for her only child knows no bounds, yet an undeniable sense of confinement subtly gnawed at her being.

Since the untimely demise of [Y/N]’s beloved father, a transformative shift enveloped her mother's being. Like a shadow cast by the moon's gentle glow, she became an ever-watchful sentinel, closely monitoring her daughter's every step with unwavering dedication. Her love took on an armor of protection, shielding [Y/N] from the world's perils with an intensity that left her in awe. The mere notion of forging friendships seemed inconceivable, friends were near to few, yet she made it through.

As she embarked on her journey to the store, a fleeting thought of reaching out to her beloved mother danced in her mind, promising to materialize into a heartfelt conversation once she fulfilled her immediate errands. Before delving into the realm of garden essentials, a trusty blue ballpoint pen found its place in her hand, etching a list: a delightful assortment of blueberries, strawberries, raspberries, and blackberries. A sudden mishap tainted the pristine clarity of the yellow paper, as her thumb inadvertently collided with the wet ink, obfuscating the very last word with an smudge, rendering it a mere blur, without her noticing

The jingle reverberating through the air above the door was no delightful melody, but rather a haunting creak that sent shivers down one's spine. As the door swung shut, it unleashed a piercing screech, its brass hinges groaning under the weight of accumulated rust. In that moment, it seemed as though a flurry of white paint chips had erupted into the air, propelled by the force with which the door had slammed shut. She was consumed by a wave of embarrassment, cast her gaze around, desperately seeking an opportunity to offer a timid apology to the cashier. Regrettably, the name tag affixed to the cashier's uniform bore the name "Ranae Reeds," yet the older woman remained oblivious to the commotion, deeply engrossed in the captivating narrative of her newspaper, so captivated that she spared not even a passing glance.

The quaint little store exuded an ambiance both intimate and grundgy. Its petite dimensions were adorned with luminous streams of yellow light, gently cascading overhead, a mesmerizing sight that lured a vibrant array of insects, their presence immortalized by a delicate layer of expired life at the base of the ceiling fixtures. Amidst this glow, a second source of illumination emerged from the rear of the store, emanating from the flickering glow of the freezers, whose contents contained nothing but dairy products.

Four rows stood in perfect formation, each aisle beckoning with an irresistible allure. Yet, it was the initial 3rd island that caught her attention. Like echoes from her college days, these rows overflowed with an abundance of budget-friendly delights, an ensemble of delectable junk food.

On the 4th and final row, she found what she needed; seeds. She picked up a variety of packets of seeds, holding the small packets between her fingers. Blueberry, Raspberries, and strawberries—She was missing one thing

She nestled her hands into the cozy refuge of her coat pocket, avidly searching for that elusive neon yellow sticky note. Days of inadequate slumber had exacted their toll, leaving her mental acuity adrift in a sea of drowsiness, a constant companion to her weary mind.

The yellow paper must have slipped out somewhere.

As she turned to retrace her steps, her gaze fell upon a figure standing a few feet away. Dressed in a dark hoodie that seemed to swallow his form, he was an enigmatic presence amidst the mundane shopping atmosphere. His face was partially concealed by a dark yellow hood, casting intriguing shadows upon his features.

She hesitated for a moment, unsure if she should approach him. But something compelled her to step forward, her curiosity overpowering any apprehension she might have felt. With a nervous yet determined smile, she approached the figure.

"’scuse me," she began, her voice tentative but polite with a southern accent slipping through her lips. "I seem to have dropped something, and was wonderin if you happened to see a yellow sticky note?"

He turned his head slightly, his eyes meeting hers through the darkness of the hood. His gaze was intense, as if trying to unravel the secrets hidden behind her words. Without a word, he bent down and picked up the stray yellow sticky note from the floor, holding it out to her.

Relief washed over her as she accepted the note, feeling a strange connection form in that brief exchange. "Thank you lots," she said, her gratitude evident in her voice. "I wouldve been lost without this."

As she looked up to thank him, her eyes widened in surprise. The hood that had previously obscured his face had fallen back, revealing his features in full. His brown hair was unkempt, falling across his forehead in a disheveled manner, matching the roughness of his beard. There was a weariness etched into his face, as if he carried the weight of a world unseen.

His eyes, though tired, possessed an unmistakable glimmer of something deep and complex. They held a mix of vulnerability and strength, as if he had seen things that most could never comprehend. The lines around his eyes spoke of experiences that had left their mark, making him seem older than his years.

He was quite handsome, [Y/N] thought.

A ghost of a smile played upon his lips as he nodded in response to her thanks, acknowledging her gratitude. “Ain't no trouble.," he replied, his voice a low rumble that held a hint of grave and southern twang. "Happy to lend a hand."

Silence hung in the air for a moment, as if both of them were caught in a suspended moment, each waiting for the other to break the spell. It seemed like the man found himself unable to tear his gaze away.

‘Dude, fucking break eye contact, this is getting weird’, She thought as an awkward frown formed on her face.

Her eyes flickered to the red gallon he held in his hand, the word gasoline emblazoned across it. Questions formed in her mind, but she hesitated, deciding against asking him directly. There was an unspoken understanding that some things were better left unsaid.

Instead, she mustered a smile, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "Well, thanks again," she said, her voice warm with sincerity. "It was nice of ya to help me out."

His lips curled into a slightly deeper smile, a tooth gap evident, a hint of something genuine breaking through his stoic demeanor. "No worries," he replied, his voice tinged with a quiet appreciation, before going back to looking at the seeds.

The way his lips curled into a grin, sent shivers down the curve of her spine. Though his smile, expansive and brimming with teeth, held a peculiar detachment within the depths of his eyes, a dissonance that left her unsettled. His lips, etched into a smile, never reached his eyes. Like an emotionless facaque. He had something of a crooked grin, skewed in its authenticity, that just didn't seem right Deep within her core, an unsettling awareness resonated, silently cautioning her about the man before her. Still, an irresistible force tugged at her very being, pulling her closer to his presence.

She glanced down at her yellow sticky note for the last item, only for the blue writing to be smudged.

“Fuck.”

The man couldn’t help but notice the frustration on her face as she stared at the yellow sticky note in her hand. The item she had written on it was smudged, rendering it illegible. He cleared his throat, breaking the awkward silence that had settled between them in the garden aisle at the back of the store.

"Hey again, uh... , 'scuse me for interrupting but aah couldn't help but notice yer frustration. Do you still need a hand?" The man had asked, his voice gentle and concerned.

Startled by his sudden address, she looked up, her eyes meeting his. She blinked a few times, trying to regain her composure. "Oh, hey. uh... i was just trying to remember what i needed to buy," she stammered, a hint of embarrassment displayed on her face.

He nodded, understanding the struggle of forgetfulness. His gaze fell upon a rack of seed packets nearby. "Well, if yer open to suggestions, there's this type of berry seed that might do the trick. They're strong and grow plenty. Might just be what ya searchin for.”

She hummed, her eyes widening as she turned her attention to the seed packets he indicated. She scanned them, reading the descriptions and imagining the bountiful berries that could grow from them. A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

"Imma give em’ a try," [Y/N] replied, grateful for the suggestion,"Thank you."

He reached out, plucked a seed packet from the rack, and handed it to her. Their fingers brushed briefly, a fleeting connection that sent a shiver down her spine. She accepted the packet, feeling the weight of the possibilities it held.

"Yer welcome," He had said with a genuine smile that still didn't reach his eyes. "Aah sure hope they bring you a fruitful harvest." he laughs.

As she held the seed packet in her hand, she couldn't help but be struck by a sudden curiosity. "Do you gotta a garden?" [Y/N] laughed, “You sure seemed to know lots bout’ plants and whatnot.”

His smile faltered slightly, and he glanced away for a moment. "Well, I used to have one," he replied softly. "But things shifted ‘round, and aah had to leave it behind… but ah’m fixin’ to start a new’un.” He drawled out with a smile.

Understanding flickered in her eyes, and she nodded in sympathy. Sometimes life forces people to leave behind things they hold dear. It reminded her of something, but she just couldnt put her finger on it. Before she could delve further into the subject, his phone buzzed loudly, interrupting their conversation.

He fished it out of his pocket and glanced at the screen. A serious expression settled on his face as he answered the call. His voice was barely audible, and he moved away from her, creating a physical distance between them.

She watched him, a mixture of caution and curiosity mingling within her. His hushed conversation gave away little, leaving her to wonder about the nature of the call.

As the call ended, He turned back to face her, his eyes filled with a mixture of apology and urgency. He didn't say a word but mouthed a goodbye, his hand waving gently in farewell. Without another word, he swiftly made his way out of the garden aisle, leaving her standing there, holding the seed packet in her hand.

“I wish i would’ve at least gotten his name.” [Y/N] hummed, rubbing the packet in her hand. She really hopes that the man was right about this seed packet.

She read the packet again, more carefully. The packet read Boysenberry. A cross between a raspberry, blackberry, dewberry, and loganberry. She could make this work. The picture showed something like a blackberry , yet it was enlongated and a deep red, almost black color. The description read that when freshly picked, it tasted like a sweet blueberry with a tangy aftertaste.

[Y/N] grabbed a few more more things: 2 bags of fertilizer, Top Soil, and Green gloves

She sighed, walking towards the front desk, flashing a soft smile towards the cashier, Ranae Reeds, she recalled. The woman’s name tag was worn around the edges, with her name partially faded. Much like the name tag, Ranae was a little worn around the edges. With her gray roots, her deep smile lines told tales of a younger, happier her.

Ranae Reeds delicately placed her magazine, adorned with the captivating headline, "Infamous Serial Killer, Jeffery Woods caught," on the polished surface before her. [Y/N]’s eyes beheld the image of a man whose countenance bore the unmistakable evidence of two hauntingly deep gashes etched into his cheeks, and a profound sensation seized her being. The spectacle unfolded before her like an eerie tableau—an unsettling tableau that seemed to suspend the very breath in her throat. Its sheer grotesqueness sent tremors coursing through her, causing the hairs on the nape of her neck to rise in response.

Ranae cashier merely looked at the younger girl, almost with sympathy.

The cashier took the seed packets with a shaky hand, her golden bracelet jingling as she scanned the packets of seeds with a ding of the scanner, “I ain’t neva seen ya round’ before.” Ranae spoke with assertiveness and confidence, surprisingly, as her stature was rather petite and she seemed to be soft-spoken. But that was in fact not the case.

[Y/N] was taken aback by her sudden curiosity, she blinked and said, “I just got ere’ this morning, moved in today.” She rocked back and forth on her toes and heels, eagerly wanting to leave already.

Ranae looked at her up and down with a bored expression on her face and asked, “Where yer from girl?” Her lips never moved from the straight line that almost seemed to be formed. Her freckled hands grabbed the fertilizer as she scraped the bag of pellets across the scanner, never taking her eyes off of [Y/N].

DING.

“Oh, aah’m from Kansas. Born n’ raised.” [Y/N] didn't have a Southern dialect—well, not anymore. It only slips out on occasion, particularly when talking to someone else with a southern twang. Her momma and daddy always had a thick southern voice, as they were both from Texas and moved to Kansas.

Kansasans don’t exactly have an accent, besides not pronouncing the “R” in words. Yet, they got a way of speaking that you can clearly tell their from somewhere in the West. If you went south, close to the Oklahoma border, the accent would get thicker as you went.

Ranae hummed, almost like she had something to say, yet she bit her tongue. She scanned the items slowly, like she was purposely taking her time.

[Y/N] shook her leg rapidly, impatience growing within her as she watched Ranae struggle to bag the items in a brown paper bag.

DING.

“My PawPaw and MawMaw died recently, so I inherited their cabin down by Grand Lake,” She said in attempt to fill the silence that annoyed her so much, in hope to pass the time. [Y/N] has always been rather extroverted, starting conversations with strangers she didn't mind, it was this silence that ate at her. The silence was bugs crawling underneath her skin, like roaches gnawing at her veins as they swam in her blood.

Ranae merely hummed again, scanning an item, completely uninterested in the conversation at hand, letting silence fall over the conversation once more. The silence was only broken by tapping of [Y/N]’s leather boots, which were worn out and needed replacement.

“A man named Willard Tucker used to live there—“

DING.

“Ya best be careful round that house,” Ranae suddenly spoke up, her brown eyes boring into the girls, a serious expression took over her features,“There been rumors bout’ some folks down by those parts doing god knows what.” The woman's veiny hands wandered through the bag of fertilizer in search of the bar code.

[Y/N] stiffened at her sudden demeanor. “I see,” She watched intensively as Ranae scanned the last item before bagging it into a brown bag and pushing it towards [Y/N].

Y/N smiles, “I’Il be sure to be careful—“

“And ya best be careful round that man that was in ere’ earlier. Aah’ve seen him do some suspicious things with those little friends of his.” Ranae cut her off once again, except her loud and apprehensive nature was no more; instead, it was quiet, and she was talking merely above a whisper.

“He’s up to no good, girl.” Ranae’s eyes once again, bore into [Y/N]’s with a sense of urgency and protection. Ranae reminded [Y/N] of her mother, Jane. From the way, she spoke with a protectiveness of a mother to her veiny freckled hands that trembled constantly.

DING.

[Y/N] hummed, taking the brown bags underneath her arms hastily, “I will don't worry.” She reassured Ranae with a tight-lipped smile, before pushing through the door that opened with a groan.

The smell of summer once again hit her, and she inhaled the sweet, tangy air. It was humid as well, the weather was hot and sticky. [Y/N] was used to it from being on a farm for all of her life, yet she never really enjoyed it. Her dad, Steve, enjoyed the heat, he loved it. He would always drag her out of the house when it was well into the 90’s.

She really misses her dad.

[Y/N] threw the brown bags in the tail bed of her 1995 Ford 150. She slid into the plush fabric of her seat, shutting the car door behind her as she slumped against the leather steering wheel.

“Why in the hell is it so damn hot?”

She peeled herself off of the steering wheel, her head heavy as drowsiness took over. partly from the lack of sleep, and the warm sun that scattered it’s light against her face.

She shoves the old, almost rusty, key into the ignition, turning it to start the car. The car sputtered, before failing to start. [Y/N] sighed, before trying again, turning the key in the ignition. Yet again, it groaned and sputtered with a metallic scratching noise that sounded like nails on a chalkboard.

It was an old truck, a gift for her 16th birthday. Painted a dark red that rusted around its silver rims, the truck was a relic, almost like a family heirloom that her family passed down from one generation to the next. It was frequent that the truck wouldn't start, constantly breaking down from a plethora of problems. It wasn't just one problem with the truck, but everything. The engine, the ground cables, the filter, overheating-- the truck almost had every problem in the book.

“I swear to fucking god,” She turns it for the third time, Please, god, start.” She pleaded as the engine sputtered once more, before roaring to life with fever.

[Y/N] slumped her head on her steering wheel once more and said, “Thank you,” She kissed the leather steering wheel, thankful that the universe had answered her pleas.

With the roar of the engine [Y/N] peeled out of the small parking lot of the Grocery Store.

Within the forgotten garden, an eerie silence lingered, broken only by the faint rustle of weeds that thrived unchecked. Like rebellious tendrils, the vibrant greens stretched beyond the confines of the patch of tilled earth, entwining their wiry strands with the blades of grass and any unsuspecting object within reach. Mushrooms and fungi covered the garden like a blanket, growing in mass abundance. This unruly congregation of vegetation and fungi seemed to possess a will of its own, reclaiming its dominion over a forsaken realm. Amongst the overgrown foliage, unseen insects and arachnids sought refuge, their presence betrayed only by an occasional scuttle or a shimmer of silken threads. Camouflaged amidst the verdant chaos, they patiently awaited their next unsuspecting prey, ready to seize upon any who ventured too close.

As the sun descended in the western sky, its golden rays extended through the dense foliage of towering oak trees, painting a mesmerizing tapestry of light and shadow. The ethereal dance of illumination and obscurity enveloped the scene, amplifying the eeriness that permeated the air. The songs of robins and mourning doves serenaded the somber landscape, their delicate melodies contrasting with the ominous backdrop. Amidst the rustling leaves and trilling birds, She heard the distant grunt of a white-tailed deer. And as the final rays of sunlight retreated beyond the horizon, they bathed the discovery in a soft, eerie glow, accentuating the unsettling sight before the witness's eyes.

[Y/N] glanced at her phone, which glowed an illuminating white. She looked at the white numbers that read: 6:00 PM.

She stretched her limps as they ached from hours of being hunched over digging to completely remove the wild grass and herbs that grew. Her arms gave a satisfying crack, just as her back did in response. She had napped for a satisfying 7 hours,only waking a few times. [Y/N] was suprised that she was able to nap in general. She was content and fully recharged. On the downside, she probably won’t be able to get any rest tonight.

At least she'll be able to stay awake binging Netflix.

With a determined grip, she thrust her green gloves into the yielding earth, their fabric sinking into the damp soil as she uprooted the herbs with a swift, purposeful tug. As she pulled, the tips of her gloves absorbed the essence of the earth, their vibrant hue now tainted by the stubborn remnants of the earth's bounty. The once-pristine fingers of her gloves were adorned with a telltale shade of brown, evidence of their close association with the soil. And beneath the surface, her nails bore the weight of the garden's secrets, caked with a fine layer of dirt that clung tenaciously to the thin, porous material.

[Y/N]’s mind wandered as she aimlessly dug through the soil, ripping the herbs from their roots like tendrils. Until her hands gripped something that squished beneath her fingers.

She gazed down, her eyes widening in pure horror, as a gut-wrenching sight unfolded before her. In her trembling hands, a writhing mass of maggots squirmed with repulsive vigor, their pale bodies contorting and intertwining in an unsettling dance. The pungent stench of decay wafted through the air, assaulting her senses and threatening to overpower her resolve. As her grip tightened involuntarily, the soft flesh of the larvae ruptured, smearing her trembling hands with a sickening mixture of viscera and fluids. The once-innocent soil beneath her feet became a graveyard for crushed worms, their slimy remnants mingling with her fingers, an unholy stain that marked her as both witness and participant in this grotesque scene.

[Y/N] let out a blood churdling scream as she stumbled backwards from her squatting position, landing on her backside. She frantically swiped her hands together to get the maggots off as they fell into the grass beside her.

The squirming maggots, now a grotesque spectacle in the dew-kissed grass, seemed to writhe in agony. Their once pale, plump bodies were now stained crimson, their delicate flesh bearing the gruesome evidence of their fallen brethren. Each wriggling creature fought desperately, their tiny frames flayed violently as they were torn away from their decaying feast. The gore of destruction painted the once vibrant green blades of grass a haunting shade of red.

“What the actual fuck?”

Laying where [Y/N]’s gloved hand dug, was a mound of dirt that maggots swarmed, their white skin hiding beneath the dirt.

[Y/N]’s curiosity peaked exponentially as she moved closer to the mound, dirt staining her knees brown. Her gloves dug through the maggots filled mound, her stomach filling with uneasiness as they glided through the soil.

Suddenly, her hands struck a soft, pudgy, material. [Y/N] dug through the dirt to fully uncover the mound, and as maggots crawled anxiously around her hands, she recoiled in disgust. She was sure it must be a dead animal, and the land must have grown around it, right?

[Y/N] knew the stench of death, and didn't partially mind the sight of dead animals. Her father, Steve, was a frequent hunter of deer and other game, to which [Y/N] accompanied him. Steve had taught her from a young age how to field dress a deer. Hanging the deer up by its hooves to a tree, she remembers taking her father's hunting knife and running it down the belly of the animal-- very gently to not puncture the belly. Scooping the contents of the deer out, leaving the inside of the deer completely bare. That was the easy part. Now to field dress the deer, was a tedious and lengthy process, using the tip of her knife to slowly peel the hide off of the animal. Hours would pass in the blistering Kansas heat and wind. It was revolting, yet she grew accustomed to the sight.

For her 13th birthday, she was gifted an old 22. rifle from Steve—an old gun that needed to constantly be cleaned and scoped in. The bullets weren’t made for large game such as deer, but they did work on prairie dogs that plagued cow farmers' fields. Eventually, she got a .300 WIN MAG, which now sat below her bed.

She had guessed the rotting carcass of an anwinsle from the potent smell wafting through the air. An unmistakable and haunting odor tainted the air, suffusing every inhalation with a chilling foreboding. It was the stench of death, a macabre orchestra composed of decaying flesh and the ghostly remnants of blood.

As she slowly uncovered the mound, it became more and more apparent what the mound was. Her hands swiped away the last layer of dirt and maggots to reveal the form underneath the soil.

[Y/N]’s features contorted with sheer terror again, the lines of his face etched deep with despair. The pallor of her skin turned with goosebumps, a stark contrast to the clammy beads of perspiration that clung to her furrowed brow. Eyes wide, they became twin portals to the void, reflecting the depths of her fear—paralyzed.

A corpse, abandoned to the earth, lies in a state of advanced decomposition. Its once vibrant form is now a haunting testament to the inevitability of mortality. The body, stripped of life, is a pillar of grotesque transformations. The flesh has given way to a grotesque canvas, with patches of decomposed tissue revealing glimpses of bone beneath. The skin, mottled and discolored, hangs loosely, tattered and ravaged by relentless decay. Time etched deep crevices into the once-familiar countenance, obscuring any resemblance to the person it once was. Swarms of maggots and other scavengers feast upon the remains, their writhing presence further amplifying the scene's repulsive nature.

Bile crawled up through [Y/N]’s as she doubled over, vomiting into the grass next to her. Food chunks and liquid sprayed the green grass a vomit brown. A tremor coursed through her trembling frame, betraying her tenuous grasp on composure. It was in this harrowing moment that horror unfurled its chilling wings, casting an indelible veil upon her face—a blanket of anguish. The very air seemed to quiver in the presence of such raw, unadulterated fear, as if nature itself recoiled in silent reverence for the intensity of her terror.

She had torn off her gloves as she scrambled across the grass, grabbing her phone, in an attempt to distance herself as much as possible from the corpse. Her surroundings seemed to spin as the drum of her heart overtook her hearing as well as the sound of the dial tone. When did she call 911?

“This is 911, what’s your emergency?” A woman's voice came from the other side of the phone. Calm, and tender, her voice was comforting. Yet her voice was almost muffled as [Y/N]'s heartbeat filled her eardrums.

“I," [Y/N]'s breath was shaky, quiet as she spoke with a sense of urgency, "Would like to report a dead body."

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