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blondeboyfriend · 1 year ago

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𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈

[ PAIRING ] Zeke Yeager x f!reader [ AUTHOR'S NOTE ] This is HEAVILY inspired by the business card scene in American Psycho. (I wrote this back in 2021 for a collab.) [ SYNOPSIS ] Zeke's perceived inadequacy leads him to a situation that only exacerbates his insecurities. [ WORD COUNT ] 3.2k [ CONTENT ] Modern AU (duh), not a big fan of the term "crack fic" but that's basically what this is, Zeke's only a few years older than the rest of the Warriors, sharing nudes without consent, smutty stuff is mentioned, alcohol, marijuana, body horror (Zeke describes scaphism in great detail), Zeke's probably ooc because I basically turned him into Patrick Bateman.

Zeke’s standing in the back of the bar, cornered by his friends. His life is in shambles because you dragged him to a birthday party in the nicest part of the city on the very night he decided to make a major life choice. Tonight was the night he said fuck it and shaved off his beard.

“You look like a baby,” Porco laughs.

“Like an angular baby, like a baby with good cheekbones,” Bertholdt, the birthday boy, mutters to himself.

“Can I touch your face?”

Zeke clenches his jaw and goes to speak only to be interrupted by Reiner's tender touch.

“Wow, that is soft. You got really soft skin. What do you use?”

Zeke smacks Reiner's hand away and uses the sleeve of his flannel to wipe away his residual touch. The meathead’s compliment was sufficient; there was no need to make physical contact.

“Sisley’s Black Rose Skin Infusion Cream.” Zeke sighs, accepting Reiner’s interpersonal failure. “How drunk are you?”

Reiner grins.

“I don’t know but your girlfriend’s the one that’s making them,” Reiner says before dissolving into the crowd.

Zeke questions whether or not Reiner was actually there in the first place. He could have merely been an anxiety induced hallucination.

“I have to… go,” Zeke abruptly blurts out to no one in particular as he pushes himself through his group of friends.

Free from their grasp he kicks himself for being so inarticulate in such a genuine way. Usually his nerves were hidden by a veneer of stoicism, but now he wonders if maybe it was just the beard.

The bar is packed and Zeke stands on his tippy toes trying to see your little head bobbing around somewhere. So many people look like you from this distance. He takes off his glasses and squints but it does little to assist him. He nearly drops them as he maneuvers them back onto his face. Eventually he hears you cackling close by. He sighs heavily once he spots you behind the bar. You look angelic, a beacon of light in a sea of complete fucking bullshit. You look him in the eyes and smile, relief washing over him.

“Don’t you have to have a license or something to be back there?” he asks you, hiding his anxiety behind a facade of smugness.

You shrug and lean over the bar to kiss his forehead.

“They ain’t kicked me out yet so… I guess not.”

Zeke sits down on a bar stool and holds his head in his hands. He remembers that this is a private party and the likelihood of anyone actually giving a shit is slim to none.

“Reiner called you my girlfriend.”

“Ew, why?”

Zeke peers up from his hands, the rest of his face still obscured. Anything to hide his lack of facial hair.

“Because we showed up together and he probably heard us fucking in the bathroom earlier. Can you hold these for me? I almost dropped them.”

Zeke hands you his glasses and you tuck them away in your purse.You pat his head and ruffle his wavy blonde hair. He relishes in the gentle touch of your hand.

“Reiner’s an idiot. Want a shot?”

“Two. You know what I like.”

You grab a bottle of whiskey and overpour two shots. You pass one to him and go grab the other for yourself. Zeke grabs your wrist and stares up at you.

“They’re both for me.”

You shake your head and pour yourself one. Zeke downs the whiskey, savoring the smokey taste it leaves behind on his tongue. Just as he goes to ask you about how your day was Marcel fucking Galliard taps him on the shoulder.

“Buddy, it’s been too long. How ya been?”

Marcel is hammered and he lifts Zeke off the stool into a bear hug. Zeke feels the whiskey crawl up his throat, the most painful tickle he’s been subjected to.

“Ni—nice to see you. It has been awhile,” he chokes out.

Marcel loosens his grip and takes a seat next to Zeke. He looks impeccable, his hair perfectly quaffed. His skin was practically glowing. How could such a drunk guy look so put together and handsome?

“It has been a fucking while!” Marcel exclaims once more.

Zeke scratches his ear and then subtly waves you off. You slowly walk away backwards from the men, bumping into the actual bartender.

“Colt! Coltie Boy!... Damn, dude, you alright? You look tired.”

Marcel has mistaken Zeke for Colt Grice, one of the other tall blonde guys in their friend group. It seems logical because Colt works at the same middle school as Zeke doing the same exact thing he does, teaching language arts to seventh graders. Though Zeke thinks he’s smarter and more relatable to his students. It certainly doesn’t help that he hasn’t seen Marcel in years, who likely has forgotten what he looks like.

“Well I haven’t been getting much sleep. You know me, burning the midnight oil and all.”

Marcel laughs way too hard at Zeke’s joke which wasn’t even a joke in the first place.

He grabs Zeke’s shoulder and continues. “Great, that’s great. Such a hard worker. So uh, shit what’s her name… That girl you’ve been seeing.”

“Pieck.”

Marcel snaps his fingers and grabs Zeke’s shoulder again.

“Yeah, yeah, how’s Pieck? She’s a keeper. A great girl.”

“She’s good, couldn’t be happier with her. We’re thinking about getting a dog.”

“Wow, that’s—that’s great. You deserve it, man. You’re a good guy. Not like that dork Zach Yeager.”

“His name is Zeke, Marcel.”

“Who cares? You,” Marcel pokes Zeke in the chest, just barely missing his nipple, “you’re a good guy. You got your life together. Fuck Zach, man.”

Zeke nods in agreement.

“He’s a fucking dick, you know? Sure, yeah, I haven’t seen that weirdo in years, but I don’t even have to see him to know he’s—” Marcel pauses to burp into his hand. “excuse me. To know he’s a piece of shit.”

“I can’t say I’ve ever been a fan either.”

“Fucking wears dumb glasses, like dude get a normal pair.”

“I know, right?”

“Grandpas wear those glasses, Coltie. Grand. Pas.”

Just as Zeke feels like he’s going to vomit into his own lap Bertholdt pops up from behind Marcel, eyes full of concern.

“Hey Marcel, Porco’s out back and he’s not looking too good.”

Bertholdt’s a dirty liar and everyone except Marcel knows it. Porco’s tolerance is god-like, an unwavering cognitive marvel. Marcel sighs and stands up, stumbling out the door to the patio, Bertholdt trailing behind. He hits his forehead on the door frame on his way out.

“Are you gonna be okay?” you quietly ask, eating a maraschino cherry you stole from someone’s drink.

Zeke smiles and shakes his head.

“It could’ve been wor—”

“Oh shit! What happened? You kinda look like dad!”

Eren is standing in the doorway with a pair of wayfarers on. He definitely stole them from someone; there was no way he’d drop money on Ray Bans. He comes over and hugs Zeke from behind. Zeke appreciates Eren’s affection but it does nothing to soothe verbal assault he received from Marcel.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I know that was fucked up,” Eren coos. “But I am right. I can’t help that.”

It doesn’t matter if Eren is right or not. Zeke’s ego is crushed beyond repair. You shoo his brother away and drag Zeke into one of the booths, sitting across the table from him. He frowns.

“Can you sit next to me?”

The alcohol is taking hold of him. He needs attention and affection, but not too much. Anything beyond you sitting beside him, holding him close, is simply unbearable. You switch sides and scoot close to him.

Zeke notices you staring at him. Your gaze is kind, kinder than a shithead like him deserves. He can’t remember a time in his life where he felt more insecure and unworthy of you. When your soft hand caresses his bare face he is slightly startled. However it’s a welcome gesture.

“I think you look good,” you purr.

He slinks down into his seat, bathing in your praise.

“I’m a little jealous of your jawline too.”

Zeke blushes.

“I look that good, huh?”

“No, you look like shit. I was lying the whole time. You’re the ugliest guy here.”

“Stop you’re going to make me fall in love with y—”

“Colt! The fuck?! What about Pieck, man?!”

You both turn to see a very drunk, very disheveled Marcel being carried out of the bar by Porco and Colt. Colt turns around, looking fresh as daisy, not a single line or wrinkle on his face; his skin smoother than a baby’s ass. He flashes an apologetic grin and lets go of Marcel, walking towards the two of you with utmost confidence. Porco crashes into a table because Marcel might as well be the most cumbersome person on the planet at this moment.

“This is probably the worst time to ask, but do you think I could use your study guides for my class tomorrow? I didn’t have time to throw anything together because Pieck and I were settling into our new apartment.”

Zeke wants to die right then and there. Zeke, who lives in a studio apartment with a chinchilla named Robert. Zeke, who will never own any form of home in his life. Zeke, who’s skincare routine will never make up for years of smoking and sitting in the sun.

“Wow! That’s so cool, Colt!” you pipe up, wrapping an arm around Zeke. He leans into you, desperately trying to disappear. He wants you to make the situation go away, to wrap it up with a little bow and toss it out a window.

“It’s a lot of work getting all that furniture into the penthouse that’s for sure.”

“I can imagine,” you reply eagerly, making up for Zeke’s awkwardness.

Colt just stands there grinning.

The lull in the conversation is too much for Zeke bear. He realizes he needs to open his mouth and speak.

“Uh, you can use my study guides.”

“Oh thank you! You’re a lifesaver.” Colt turns around to see the nuclear disaster that is the Galliard brothers. “I hate to cut this short, but I have to take care of that,” he laughs. “Let’s do dinner sometime!”

Once Colt is out of earshot Zeke falls to pieces.

“Let’s do an execution sometime, Colt. Just boil me alive, send me to the boats.”

Zeke notices the quizzical look you give him and tosses his head back and groans.

“It’s a form of execution where you trap someone between two boats—row boats not ocean liners.” He knows you all too well, your perception prone to the absurd. “And you force feed them milk and honey, and you cover them with it too. And then you leave them to fester and rot in the sun like in a lake or a river.” He coughs. “Death doesn’t come quickly obviously. Flies lay eggs in your wounds, feasting upon your infected flesh. Mosquitos rise from the putrid water and buzz around you. Your body decays right before your eyes.”

“Uh,” is all you can manage to spit out.

He can’t hide his disappointment, and avoids your gaze.

“I know something that’ll cheer you up.”

“What?” he asks.

“Wanna see some dick pics?”

Zeke’s attention is thoroughly piqued. He clears his throat, trying to mask his blatant curiosity.

“Sure. Whose do you have?”

You smirk. “I got everyone.”

“Do you go around showing these to everyone?”

Zeke panics remembering the series of dick pics he sent you one night after smoking two blunts by himself. So many different angles and his face was definitely in a few of them.

“Oh god no, I don’t show them to anyone.”

He bathes in a sea of relief.

“Okay good. Let me see.”

You pull out your phone and go to your hidden photos. A barrage of dicks show up on the screen all in various states of turgidity.

‘Wait, I want to see mine first.”

“Fine. Weirdo.”

You scroll down to find a picture of Zeke’s hard cock. A solid six inches. Circumcised. A few veins running along the length of it, more on the green side. It’s framed by curly, untrimmed, flaxen pubic hair which suddenly Zeke is weirdly self conscious about. He can’t help but wonder if Colt has untamed pubes.

“Should I wax?”

You look at him like he has three heads.

“What? No. I like them even if they get caught in my teeth occasionally.”

You pinch his cheek and Zeke lets out a little “phew”. He doesn’t know what he’d do if you told him otherwise. The idea of ripping out his body hair terrifies him. Shaving’s bad enough, the resulting emotional anguish a burden he struggles to bear. He might die if he added physical pain into the mix.

“I appreciate the angles,” you say. “It’s artistic. The lighting hits the cum dripping off the tip perfectly.”

Zeke basks in the light of your praise.

“Nice and erect, not floppy and flaccid. It’s one of my favorites.”

He shivers at the thought of sending you a photo of his limp dick. He’s a grower, not a shower, a fact that left him feeling inadequate if he thought too hard about it.

It was seemingly unfounded. You never expressed any displeasure when you’d pull his cock out of his pants and see it in its flaccid state. No hint of judgment when you got down on your knees and sucked him off. Just pure, unadulterated joy.

“Gimme a name.”

“Let’s see the birthday boy.”

You pull up a poorly lit photo of an incredibly erect cock. No veins, very smooth with an even coloring. Zeke notices he’s uncircumcised and tries to convince himself that his dick being circumcised makes him a better person than Bertholdt.

“It’s very long,” you say, zooming in on the dick and scrolling down. “Not super thick though.”

“I’m not impressed.”

Zeke takes pride in his cock being thicker than Bertholdt’s.

“Can I ask why you have a pic of his dick?”

“He was drunk and meant to send it to Annie.”

“And you kept it?”

“Hey, whoa. I did ask.”

Zeke gives you a quizzical look. He is having trouble discerning the situation at hand and it makes him feel like he’s dying. You pat his back.

“I was like, ‘Bertl, can I keep this?’ And he was like, ‘If you feel so compelled.’ And let me tell you... I was compelled.”

“Next one,” Zeke says, glaring at the dick on your phone screen.

“Okay,” you flip through your photos, “Porco.”

You hold up your phone, showing Zeke a still image of Porco furiously masturbating on the bathroom floor.

“D—did he set up a timer on his phone?”

“Yeah, grandpa, welcome to the 21st century. We’re happy to have you.”

“You’re two years younger than me, grandma.”

You stick your tongue out at him and zoom in on Porco’s cock. His cock curves upward quite a bit, veiny but not nearly as veiny as Zeke’s. The tip is a pearlescent pink. Porco managed to catch himself in the middle of his orgasm, cum spurting upward like a geyser.

“What do you think?” you ask him.

“Cum looks a little thin, watery even.”

Zeke wants to tack on that his cum is more robust, but he realizes how pathetic it is to brag about.

“I like it when it’s thicker. Like if someone is going to come on me I wanna feel it splatter on my skin, you know?”

Zeke doesn’t know.

“Yeah I get that,” he lies.

“I appreciate the action of the shot, but it’s too busy. I see a bottle of Acqua di Gio on his bathroom counter. His plunger is in the background. I don’t like that his bathroom rug is orange.”

Zeke could hear you talk shit about Porco’s nudes all day.

“You lookin’ at Porco’s nudes?”

Reiner slides into the other side of the booth. He’s pretty drunk, skin a little pink, but he seems mostly there.

“Has everyone seen them?” Zeke asks in a panic.

“No. I overheard you guys talking,” he chastises. “You guys are really harsh critics.”

“I have standards, Reiner.”

“If people can be film critics, why not dick critics?” Zeke asks, genuinely wanting an answer.

“Hey!” You smack Reiner’s arm. “Can I show Zeke your dick?”

“I’d be offended if you didn’t. I’m not an artist, but I’ve been told I have an eye for color,” he brags.

Zeke rolls his eyes. “Hush. Let’s see the dick.”

You pull up Reiner’s dick on your phone. It’s a lower body shot, just his torso and cock in view, it’s standing straight up. His body is framed by his earth toned bedding that makes his skin look divine. He’s statuesque, like a Greek god.

“Check out my cum gutters.”

“Reiner,” you exclaim. “Gross!”

“So Zeke, what do you think?” Reiner asks eagerly.

“Impressive,” Zeke chokes out. “Very nice.”

Zeke’s ready to move on. Reiner’s color coordinating bodybuilder nudes make him want to wear clothes for the rest of his life. He pictures himself dressed in his pajamas, standing in the middle of his shower, arms crossed, looking absolutely miserable.

“Hm, I think that’s all I have. Wait. Oh my god, I forgot I have your brother’s.”

Zeke is conflicted. On one hand he feels protective of Eren and wants to destroy your phone, preserving Eren’s honor. But on the other he wants to rip Eren’s head off for sending you a picture of his dick.

“I have one!” Reiner pipes up.

“Whose?” Zeke and you ask in unison.

“Colt’s.”

You start to shake your head. “No, no more dick pics. We’re done for the night.”

“No,” Zeke says, clenching his jaw. “Let’s see Colt Grice’s cock.”

You toss your head back and stare at the ceiling, preparing yourself for Zeke’s reaction. Reiner winces, realizing his mistake. But still he pulls out his phone.

“Why do you have a picture of his dick?” you ask.

“He needed a creative consultant,” he replies plainly.

Reiner goes through his phone and breathes heavily. He looks up from his phone, his lips a flat line, and he holds up Colt’s dick pic.

It’s a full body shot of Colt. His cock is thick and long, the same look and size as Zeke’s. He grabs Reiner’s phone and stares at Colt’s throbbing erection. It’s taken in his bathroom and unlike Porco's, his counter is organized, only a small bottle of expensive hand soap lurking in the corner. His dick is the perfect shade of pink, the head of his cock picturesque. It’s smooth, but not in a creepy way. It’s like it was sculpted by Rodin, rock hard and tremendous.

“Oh my god. His pubes are so trim,” Zeke mutters.

His hand shakes and he drops the phone. Reiner grabs it, slips it into his pocket, and looks away from Zeke. The three of you sit in silence, the only sounds coming from the party.

“Is something wrong, Zeke?” you ask. “You’re sweating.”

Zeke doesn’t say anything. There isn’t anything to say. This isn’t something that can be buffed away with pity. The wounds inflicted are too deep. The pain radiating through his being will never cease. There will be no relief from his festering inadequacy. Happiness and hope for the future are rendered foreign concepts.

The man is irreparably damaged.

#zeke yeager x reader #zeke jaeger x reader #zeke yeager smut #zeke jaeger smut #aot smut #snk smut #aot x reader #snk x reader #attack on titan x reader #shingeki no kyojin x reader #zeke aot smut #.fics #.aot #.zeke #.reiner #.colt #x reader #reader insert

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unknownarmageddon · 1 year ago

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Now playing: Hold Me Like a Grudge; Fall Out Boy

| 2:17 ————————— • ————— 3:36 | << ⏸︎ >>

More information below!!!

banner made by both me and chair!!

My main fandom is UTMV but I’m also really big on fall out boy, the wrecks, green day, hozier, ajr, nine inch nails, st. vincent, various other bands, birds, adventure time/fionna and cake, studio ghibli films, horror, pokemon, twin peaks, and several video games (namely warframe, though many other as well)!! and just a variety of other stuff. you will get all of my bullshit

As of now I do NOT take art requests or commissions, so please don’t ask. (i may be open to the idea of art trades or collabs with friends/mutuals only) Also absolutely do not repost my art!! especially without permission or credit. my work can be used only for personal stuff like pfps or whatever as long as there is credit, and as long as it’s not art of my sonas or ocs. don’t use my sonas or ocs for personal things please. asking beforehand is also preferred if you want to use my art for something. thumbs up emoji

as a general warning I will occasionally reblog and/or post, create, etc things that contain blood and gore, disturbing imagery, violence, and similar themes, and several of my aus will more often than not include these as well

There will be absolutely NO dreammare, frans, or fontcest, or any similar ships, because they personally make me very uncomfortable, but lots of sanscest stuff, so. obviously don’t follow if that’s not your thing. but dont, in any capacity, talk to me about ship discourse i legitimately could not care less as long as no one’s hurting anyone. i am aware of who i’m following and i cater my own experience. thumbs up emoji

things i’ve written:

- Sirius (Ongoing)

- Bathroom Sink (Drabble)

- Christ Alive (One-Shot)

- Detours (One-Shot)

- Trinkets, Bits, and Bobs (One-Shot)

- Our Spot (One-Shot)

extras/tags/links/whatever:

- #armageddon art ; art that’s mine tag (fanart. uhh mostly fanart)

- #wip ; unfinished snippets of whatever drawing i’m working on at the time

- #rambles ; text posts tag

- [this used to be #armageddon rambles woah, so that’s where most of the other things i’ve said are]

- #answering asks ; self explanatory

- [asks are sorted via “[url] asks” and “anon asks”]

- #sona ; main sona tag

- #fursona ; main fursona (lazarus) tag

- #plaguesona ; plague doctor sona (jasper) tag

- #jimmy ; jimmy tag

- #armageddon’s fanfics ; tag for shit i’ve written

- #sirius ; tag for my main ongoing fic

- sheep’s head ; tag for one of my own original projects (currently i’ve done practically nothing with it yet but plan to in the future)

- #creepy stuff ; tag for horror/surreal-adjacent art i’ve reblogged

- [there will be blood, gore, and just generally dark subjects under this tag, and i typically don’t tag specifics for each thing i reblog, so feel free to filter this one as needed]

- #cool ass forests ; forest photos (and some art) i think are very very neat :]

- #banger art ; tag for more general art i find rad

- [all other interest-related tags are just the thing, ie #fob or #birds or #studio ghibli or whatever]

- UT AU Masterpost ; has information, references, etc, for most of my original aus and aus i co-own with friends (i recommend you check this if you’re looking for something specific, i promise it should be helpful)

- art-only blog

- AO3 account

- send me an ask with 🎱 and i’ll give you a song i listened to recently!!!

Last image (left) from psycho-chair!! 1st and 2nd gifs from glassofpumpkinjuice, 3rd gif from filmtvtoday, 4th gif from inthedarktrees; second gif at the very top from chair dividers from here

#Pinned post #masterpost #last updated november 14 2024!!

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aajjks · 2 years ago

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Scream, Baby. (m)

synopsis. He had a lot of victims but unfortunately, you became the victim of his love.

pairing: yan!ghostface!jungkook x fem!reader.

warnings: YANDERE, extreme themes, horror, mentions of bl*od, killi*gs, m*rders, d-ad bodies, self h-rm, obsession, unstable behaviour, possessiveness, unhealthy way of “loving”, manipulation, triggering themes.

part of @taetaecherub’s fear festival! ^^ please check out the other fics as well, all of them are a treat!!! 😭🙏

note. HAPPY HALLOWEEN GUYS. the collab finally comes to an end 💔 I had so much fun with all of the girls and the fics???? Oh my gosh. I had the chance to work with so many amazing writers. thanks neon for hosting the collab. I Hope you all will love this, leave feedback please? ENJOY.

wc. roughly around 3k

*not edited*

taglist. [will be added later]

Spending his time with you was his favourite part of the day, Jungkook adored you so much, you were his favourite, his favourite person, You were his only best friend.

“Jungkook! Not again, seriously?!” You whined, your voice like honey to him, Jungkook turned his head to look at you sitting on the couch right beside him.

He smiled. “What Y/N?” He knew but he just loved to hear your voice, so much.

He watched you as you rolled your eyes at him, Jungkook couldn’t help but smile.

You were just so cute.

“Another horror movie?! Gosh! JK, I seriously don’t get your obsession with them!” Jungkook clicked his tongue, looking at you with a lazy gaze.

“You know I love them almost as much as I love you, sweetheart.” He winked, flirty tone dripping from his lips.

You suck your teeth in. “Ehh you’re so bad at flirting,” laughing, you grab the remote from his hands.

Catching him off guard.

“But first… I want to watch the news.” It was Jungkook’s turn to roll his eyes, not at you though, never you.

Just at the upcoming situation.

Jungkook sighed, watching you change channels after channels until you come across your favourite one.

Fuck.

“One body has been found at the downtown Derryviles alley, the victim has been unable to be identified due to the disfigured face.” The news reporters voice echoed in Jungkook’s ears, his eyes glued on the T.V screen.

He remembered that so clearly. How could he not? He never forgot.

“This is the 34th victim killed with the same pattern. An unknown knife type used to stab the victim 17 times in the gut and disfiguring of the face.”

You gasped.

“JUNGKOOK?!” The man almost jumped from the couch at your loud voice. He turned his head towards your direction.

Your E/C eyes filled with fear and shock, you look at him like he’s the one who’s done this.

He is the one.

“W-What Y/N?!” Jungkook stuttered, avoiding your eyes. It was like you could see right through him, it was like you could see all of the things he’d done that night.

“I-It happened near the café…kook.” Your tone was wavy, Jungkook’s eyes softened, you were scared.

You were scared of him.

“I-I can’t believe this…. Th-This psycho killer is absolutely nuts!” You bite your lip, if your expression wasn’t so lovely, he would feel a little insulted.

You wouldn’t understand him even if he told you.

“O-Oh my god…. W-What if that killer kills me next!!?”

“ARE YOU STUPID?!” Jungkook cut you off. He grabbed your body and shook your shoulders, his eyes were wide.

How could you even think that?

Jungkook stared deeply into your eyes, his gaze filled with a dark glint, he chewed on his lower lip. You noticed a change in his demeanour.

He was being weird.

“I’ll always protect you! N-Nothing will ever harm you- I-I won’t let it! Don’t worry!” He sighed deeply.

“Are you okay, kook?”

He blinked, “I-I just don’t want you to be scared, Y/N.” Jungkook smiled, his shoulders relaxed, you noticed.

He was always a weirdo, you loved him for that. But his reaction was quite actually weird. But then again, it was your friend, jungkook.

“And didn’t you notice? Most of his victims are men anyways…. If anything? You need to protect me!”

“literally shut the fuck up!” you both giggled together as the news anchors voice faded under the loud sound of your laughter, you punched him playfully and his giggles only became louder.

“UGH STOOOP!” You cried as he tickled you. “I-I UGH NEED T-TO TELL YOU SOMETHING PLEASE!” You giggled from the sensation.

“What?” He breathed heavily, his eyes crinkled from his expression. “Did you know a creep tried to hit on me at the coffee house?”

Jungkook stopped laughing.

“But y’know that coworker of mine? y’know the one I think hates my guts? Come on! You know his name is Yoongi!? He saved me and shooed the creep away….” You stretched your arms, getting up to sit on the couch.

You felt your friends gaze on you. “Ahhh don’t worry kook, Yoongi is pretty good at intimidating people…. He can be pretty scary…”

No response.

“Also shit!!! I have to meet up with Do-il! Come on let’s finish the movie so you won’t whine about how I don’t give you time anymore.”

“Y/N?” After what felt like eternity, Jungkook finally spoke, you hummed, opening Netflix to put on Jungkook’s favourite movie.

“We’ve literally watched this so- You love me more right?”

You halted your movements, the atmosphere of the room took a turn, Jungkook wasn’t kidding around, he sounded so serious,

Scared even.

“Of course kook, you’re my number 1.”

He’s my boyfriend, and you’re my best friend.

“Can’t you stay with me… tonight?”

“No I can’t, kook.”

Jungkook’s brain itched. He couldn’t see you with that loser any longer. That prick had to die.

Jeon Jungkook, your best friend hated your boyfriend, Do-il.

He was an insecure man, deeply so, he was naturally territorial of you, he didn’t like sharing his anything with anyone but you.

You.

You were always the exception. You never could truly understand your friend, why was he so attached to you? Maybe it could be because of his childhood?

You didn’t fully know it but you knew that Jungkook had some trauma because of it, as you finally walked out of Jungkook’s apartment, the cold breeze almost left you breathless.

It’s cold.

Unlike Jungkook’s apartment, you wondered as you walked. Today was awfully cold, and now you were going to meet your boyfriend at a random coffee place.

And tomorrow was Halloween. That was the only good thing awaiting you. You loved the season so much.

Your phone vibrated, taking your attention, you quickly took it out of the pocket of your coat and saw your aunts name flashing brightly.

Pressing on the green option, you pressed the phone into your ears.

“Aunt Hae-Soo!” There was some sniffling noises when you spoke into the phone, the sound continued and you were starting to get concerned. “Are you okay???”

“Y-Y/N! Dae and Han haven’t come home since almost a week! I-I even filed a police complaint b-but I’m so worried!” The woman on the other line cried as you walked to a quite spot,

Your heartbeat immediately dropped as you heard her.

they couldn’t-

“Aunt!! Please calm down….. I’ll try to call Dae… he always picks up…. Please don’t cry…” you almost cooed with a heavy heart.

How could this not be a big deal when there was a literal psycho serial killer on the loose?

“Please I-I am so worried, Y/N are you safe?!” Your aunt lived in another town, you didn’t want to worry her more.

Maybe she had seen the news.

But you were safe right?

“Y-Yes absolutely! Aunt Hae-Soo don’t worry… I’ll call dae but you please please take care of yourself!” You looked around to see some people on the road walking.

It was almost 7 pm.

“Okay dear but please let me know and you also stay safe… I saw the news about your town… oh Jesus…. What is wrong with this world.” Your aunt exclaimed.

You let out a laugh at her sentence.

“Don’t worry!”

The line finally went dead and you quickly made your way to the cafe.

Jungkook was almost losing control.

He couldn’t bear to look at the ugly asshole any longer, even behind the mask, it made his eyes itch just to look at his covered unconscious face.

His basement was dark, eerily so. Park Do-il was a shady man after all. Do-il didn’t deserve you, his best friend.

You deserved someone who worshipped you. Not an unfaithful ugly piece of shit guy.

Jungkook worshipped you. He loved you so much. He was so much better than this guy who lived in a shitty apartment with a creepy basement.

You deserved so much better than him.

“What does she even see in you?” Jungkook scoffed, talking to your unconscious boyfriend. He sucked in his breath,

Jealousy was burning inside him like an erupting volcano.

“first of all, you are ugly, you don’t like scary movies and…. You are an unfaithful asshole to my Y/N!”

He took out the familiar knife.

His beloved after you.

The buck 120 shined so brightly every time Jungkook used it. The silver was so beautiful, pointy.

It went into the guts of people so smoothly. He cherished it so much.

“Ahhh finally I can kill you and have my Y/N all to myself.” Jungkook giggled, “you can’t even protect her, unlike me. You know what I did to that bastard who tried to harass my girl?” Jungkook glanced at the knife, lowering it to do-il’s abdomen.

Twisting it so deeply inside his gut that it made a cringey noise.

Seeing the way the knife pierced directly into his skin made jungkook feel so excited, it was the first time he was killing one of his victims without his mask.

“I twisted the knife so deeply into his heart almost like this. that fucking asshole screamed so loud, gosh!” Jungkook continued.

He bit his lip as he pulled the knife out and in, repeatedly. so fast that the blood slashed on his face.

Jungkook hated messing around but right now? This was almost orgasmic. He was thinking about you.

Ways to console you, his plan was almost complete. You were going to be his forever.

“I’d love to ruin your fucking face but then my Y/N would get suspicious…. She’s so smart… my precious girl….” Jungkook cooed to the unmoving body.

“Fuck yes! You are finally dead.” Jungkook checked his wrist and sighed in delight.

“I never wanted to give you a quick death but to have Y/N… I had to.”

“Now I’ll just have to wait for her to reach your apartment.” He kissed the knife, the blood stained his lips.

“As she should be, by now.” Jungkook aimed the knife towards his arm. “Now to make my plan successful, I’ll have to stab myself.” He swiped the dangerously pointy knife across his right arm.

“It doesn’t hurt that much, surprisingly.” He shrugged, repeating the same thing right across his abdomen, making sure to look convincing for you to believe his,

Bullshit story.

“Baby…. You will finally be mine…”

You felt like crying.

Being stood up for the sixth time by your boyfriend was embarrassing to say the least, there was a serial killer on the loose, your cousins were lost and It’s Halloween eve and you are crying while standing at your joke of a boyfriends door.

“Open the door, do-il!” You softly knock on the door, trying to control your emotions. Your heart broke, how could he do this to you?!

You knocked again and again.

Until it opened. A hand came out of the door and pulled you in before you could even say anything.

“Do-il you ass! What are you doing!?” You cried as the hand pushed you into his home.

The light bulb made it easier for you to see the man standing so close to you and you gasped.

“J-Jungkook?!?” You almost screamed but the guy hushed you. You looked up and down to take notice of his appearance and a shriek left you.

“WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED TO YOU??! A-AND WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN DO-IL’S APARTMENT?!?”

You were so confused now, what the fuck was wrong with today?? “Y-Y/N hush! Come on. I-I have to show you something!”

Jungkook took you towards the staircase to your boyfriends basement, this was beyond freaky, “where the hell is Do-il?” The man didn’t leave your hand. You looked at Jungkook’s dirty clothes, dirt everywhere. His arm was bleeding furiously.

Just what the hell had happened here?

“Jungkook you’re bleeding!” This was concerning, your heartbeat was dropping as jungkook and you entered the basement.

His hand left yours as you stood in the dark until jungkook turned on the light switch.

The light was bright on your eyes, you blinked twice.

“What the hell.” You cursed as you tried to open them. Your eyes were sensitive, as your vision cleared.

And your knees started to shake, the view infront of you made your world crumble.

“W-Who’s that…” you saw a body in a black cloak, the face was barely covered by a weird face on the mask.

“Go ahead, and see for yourself.” Jungkook didn’t look at you but his gaze was set ahead on the body.

“Go Y/N.” Jungkook urged you on, taking your hand in his once again, your feet taking you near the body.

There was blood oozing out of it.

“J-Jungkook…” you stuttered with fear, the bile in your throat was rising, “this is the serial killer.”

“Park Do-il aka the psycho killer who killed so many people.”

Your brain registered his words, but your body paralysed with shock, goosebumps on your skin rose.

“I got a text about two hours ago… with an unregistered number with this address and a question from a horror movie quiz.”

You listened and listened, your lips sealed, this was crazy, this couldn’t be true.

“I came here because I knew this was your boyfriends house… but as soon as I entered? He attacked me.”

Jungkook stole a glance at you, you were petrified, the colour from your face disappeared.

He felt bad.

“B-But hes t-the one that’s d-dead!”

Jungkook chewed on his inner cheek to stop his frustration from building up, you were so annoyingly smart.

He loved you for that.

“Exactly. He attacked me- he was acting crazy he was going on about how he thought you were cheating on him with me- h-he wanted to kill me and you!”

Jungkook made sure to conceal his tone into one of fear. “H-He even confessed to killing that guy you told me a about! He’s crazy Y/N,

It was all his plan… he was going to kill you- I-I had to protect you.” Jungkook was a good actor. The tears came out so easily as he hiccuped.

“H-How could not have known that he was behind all of this?!” Jungkook grabbed your busy, his hands on your shoulders.

His heart hammered so loudly. “I-I c-can’t believe this…. D-Do-il was the killer all along?”

Jungkook wanted to kiss the tears away from your eyes, his plan was almost successful. “Y-Yes! Even I was shocked! I had to kill him before he could kill you Y/N!”

“Don’t scream, baby… it’s okay… I got you. I love you Y/N… I’m sorry I had to kill him.” Jungkook pulled you in for a hug.

Breathing so deeply into your embrace.

“I-I…. thank God you’re safe, kook.” You wrapped your arms around him. “Let’s g-go from here…”

“You did the right thing by killing this psycho bastard…He deserved to die.”

Yes, my 35th and final victim.

Your eyes traveled towards the silver bloodied knife, it was the same one from Jungkook’s apartment.

A buck 120.

2K notes · View notes

multi-kpop-fanfics · 3 years ago

Text

Getting Closer

Pairing: Joker!Jeon Wonwoo x Chief Inspector!fem!reader

Genres: Angst, smut, horror, very minor fluff

TW: Blood, mentions of weapons, minor injuries, cursing, hatefucking, marking, hair pulling, choking, face-slapping, major character death, slight yandere behavior, mentions of mental illness and insomnia

Summary: Four months. It has taken inspector Y/N L/N four months to get her hands on Jeon Wonwoo, the maniac, Joker-like criminal, who has thrown the city into total fear. The same criminal who has an obsession with the inspector, because she's the only one who can grant him his greatest wish. They need each other to fulfill their goals and there's only one way - by getting closer to each other, one last time.

Part of the collab call: Death Is Upon Us by @junjungsunwoo

Word count: 6.1k

Author’s note: This is my entry for the amazing collab, hosted by miss Yena, aka @junjungsunwoo! The header was made by me and the inspiration was drawn by this video and the songs Getting Closer by Seventeen, Psycho by Baekhyun and O Sole Mio (The Red Wedding) by The Boyz.

Taglist: @aliceu @delicatewerewolfsoul @husbandhoshi @llsiriusminorisll @byeongsung @chxngyunie @yyxgin @heresyourramen

This is a piece of fiction. I do not condone with such behaviour and I do not see the idol in this way.

“...the infamous criminal has made his appearance again, leaving his terrorizing mark on the streets of Seoul and another victim on his record, a 26-year-old man and his 24-year-old girlfriend-”

You turn off the TV and throw the remote somewhere in your office, running your hands through your hair in frustration, your forehead touching the surface of the wooden desk.

This was the ninth time you had lost to him. And it made your guts churn disgustingly. Seventeen people, seventeen people in love, gone by his hand. And every time, he would leave the same mark behind - a ruined white rose, its petals scattered around the lifeless bodies of the victims.

You have been tracking him for the past four months, you’ve managed to scrap out every single miniscule detail, anything that could help you get closer to him and put him behind the bars of jail once and for all. But every time, he would slip from your grasp.

You’ve only seen him a couple of times, but they’ve proven enough to make this man haunt you during these months, his sadistic smile appearing in your sleep, high cheekbones stained with blood and sharp eyes burning holes in you.

The bulletin board in your office hasn’t helped with your nightmares, filled with photos of the crime scenes he has left behind, the marks, the victims and the man himself - Jeon Wonwoo.

A soft knock on the door of your office snaps you out of your thoughts. “Come in”, you say and the door opens to reveal Chan, your co-worker and co-Inspector, the man you’ve been trusting with this case ever since it started.

“Hey”, “Respectfully, you look shit”, Chan chuckles and sits down across you. “Respectfully, fuck you”, you groan in response and he scoffs with a small laugh. His eyes drift around your office and land on the discarded TV remote. He gets up and takes it into his hand and he’s met with the same bulletin board that has been the center of your life at this point.

“I hate this fucking psycho so much...Thinking he can roam around the city and kill innocent people, all while he’s walking in broad daylight as if he’s one of us”, the man mutters under his breath, clenching his jaw and fists alike. “I’m afraid he is, Chan”, you exhale in defeat and stand next to him. “A fucking psycho?”, “That too. But also a human”, you admit. “Are you seriously defending him, Y/N?!”, “Of course not. But Jeon Wonwoo is still a human - a human who suffers from BPD”, you add, taking two pics of the criminal in your hands.

“BPD?”, Chan tilts his head sideways in question. “Borderline Personality Disorder. People with BPD show pervasive patterns of instability in interpersonal relationships and self-image, alternating between extremes of idealization and devaluation of others, along with varying moods and difficulty regulating strong emotional reactions. Other symptoms may include feeling unsure of one's identity, morals, and values; having paranoid thoughts when feeling stressed, depersonalization and, in moderate to severe cases, stress-induced breaks with reality or psychotic episodes. Last but not least, they often show dangerous or impulsive behavior”, you briefly explain and hand over the pictures to your colleague.

“To put it simply... Jeon Wonwoo thinks he’s some sort of Joker who kills people because he views them as malevolent and a threat to his own well-being, while in reality he’s the dangerous one?”, Chan asks, his eyes fixated on the pictures of the criminal, one of him walking on the street in casual clothing and the other, slightly blurry, taken right before he fled the crime scene from Gangnam two months ago.

“That’s one way to put it”, you reply and he hums in response. “Wow, you really have done your research, Chief Inspector”, the black-haired man turns his attention to you and you offer him a tight-lipped smile. “Victory loves preparation, Inspector. And preparation includes rest - something you should get in approximately...thirty minutes”, you check your watch for the time and Chan laughs. “Is this a reminder to yourself, miss L/N?”, “To the both of us, mr Lee”, you chuckle. He lets the photos on your desk and turns his back on you, walking out of your office.

“Text me once you get home, okay?”, he asks you one last time with a worried look. “Don’t worry about me. Goodnight Chan”, “Goodnight, Y/N”, he bids you farewell and closes the door of your office.

You sit down on your chair and take Wonwoo’s picture in your hands, observing his facial features. What is he planning to do next?, you think, your chin resting on your hands.

Ironically enough, the man in question is in the same position as you.

As if he’s your long lost half, Wonwoo is in front of a similar board of yours, photos of his victims and you, pinned on the surface. He fixes his metal round glasses on the bridge of his nose, eyes fixated on a picture of you walking out of the police department, the air gracefully blowing your hair away. His hands are cleaning up a sharp knife with a blood-stained cloth, but his attention is all on you.

Just like you’ve been trying to find out every single detail about him, he has been doing the exact same thing about you.

He knows your schedule inside out, your favorite coffee flavor, your favorite flower, the route you take every weekend while you’re on a run - Wonwoo knows everything about you, as if he was your closest friend, or even worse, your lover.

In reality, he’s obsessed with you - he has been thriving in the attention you’ve been giving him, creating this twisted image of you caring about him in his mind, thinking that he’s the most important person to you.

“If only you knew how infatuated I am with you, sweetheart”, he mutters with a horribly lovely gaze, gently tracing his thumb over your picture, a sickly sweet smile on his lips, all while he stabs the knife on a different picture.

The picture of his first victim - his girlfriend.

You click the door of your house shut, locking it twice out of habit and throw the keys on the small table right next to the door, taking off your shoes and coat in the process. You search for your phone in your bag, sending a quick text to Chan and the reply comes a few seconds later, a small smile creeping on your face.

You go towards your bedroom, tiredly removing your clothes and changing into your silk pajamas. You devote a bit of time to remove your light makeup and do your skincare, treating yourself a bit after another long and draining day. Once you find yourself under the fuzzy blankets, you've already drifted into dreamland.

But it doesn't take you long to wake up again, right in the middle of the night.

Your hand is shakily gripping the glass of water, putting it down on the counter, afraid of dropping it. Your hands are in your hair, your nails scraping your scalp, trying to calm yourself down.

All because of the same, reoccurring nightmare.

This fucked up nightmare of you returning to your house, a tall, young man around your age waiting for you, welcoming you with a kiss on your cheek and his arms around your waist. "I'm so glad you're with me, sweetheart… Always with me", his deep voice echoes in your ear and you feel something watery on your waist. You look up to his face and you see the one man you hate with all your life.

Jeon Wonwoo and his blood-stained hands on your skin. You try to push him away, but your hands are now covered in blood as well and you scream, but the voice is stuck in your throat and all you can do is watch him smile sadistically, as he licks the blood from his hands.

The blood of his victims, their bodies scattered around you, their blood now staining your own skin.

The images are still too vivid in your mind and you desperately try to find something to distract yourself. Suddenly, you notice the crystal vase, filled with the bouquet of white roses you received exactly one week ago. The petals are wilted, but they have a comforting melancholy, despite watching their life fade away throughout the week.

You've been receiving these bouquets once every week for the past three months, their sender still unknown to you. You really wanted to find out who they were, because you knew that they weren't sending them out of the blue. They knew these were your favorites and it brought you a strange comfort, a warmth in your heart - a long forgotten one.

The next morning finds you wrapped in a blanket on your couch, your entire body feeling cranky after being curled up for long in the small space. You get up, groaning as you stretch your limbs, rubbing your eyes lazily. You open the blinds of the windows, letting the sunlight brighten the living room and opt to boil some water for your morning coffee. You patiently wait for the water to boil and your eyes drift on the crystal vase and the wilted white roses, their petals falling on the table in a somewhat graceful manner, as if they were feathers from a falling angel’s wings.

“They’re beyond saving now…”, you mutter to yourself and carefully take them out of the vase, throwing them into the trash can with a sad expression on your face. You pour the remnants of the water in the sink and you wash the vase squeaky clean, drying it with a towel afterwards.

You hear the whistle of the kettle just on time and you turn off the stove, removing the kettle to pour the hot water in your mug all while stirring the coffee with a spoon, the thick aroma hitting your nostrils in a pleasant way, making you hum in satisfaction. You’re about to take a sip of it but your doorbell rings and you huff in annoyance.

“Tsk, it’s barely nine thirty..”, you mutter groggily and put your mug down, walking towards the door. You unlock it and your eyes widen at the sight in front of you.

“Hello miss Y/N”, “Good morning, Jeongin! Another delivery?”, you chuckle and help the poor boy by taking the bouquet of white roses in your arms. “These are fresh, by the way, miss”, Jeongin states with a smile, “The gentleman picked them specifically for you. Must be your secret admirer”, he adds and you perk up at his words. “A gentleman, you say? Did he tell you his name, perhaps?”, you ask with a newfound interest. “Ah, I only saw him for a few seconds, and he didn’t say his name. But he was really handsome and tall - he was wearing glasses, I think”, Jeongin visibly racks his brain for more details, but you decide to spare the boy of his troubles.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to squeeze your brain anymore, Jeongin”, you laugh and skip to place the bouquet on the counter, searching for your purse. You come back and hand over some money to Jeongin, who’s wide-eyed. “M-Miss Y/N! I don’t-”, “You don’t have to say anything, you deserve it”, you laugh and ruffle his hair and the boy gives you a starry-eyed grin.

“Thank you so much, Miss Y/N! Have a nice day!”, Jeongin shouts as he runs, waving at you excitedly. You close the door and turn your attention to the new bouquet of flowers, a warm smile spreading on your lips as you smell the fresh white roses, admiring the silky, baby blue ribbon around the stalks.

“A handsome gentleman with glasses, huh…”.

Earlier this morning….

“White roses again, sir?”, the florist asks with a raised eyebrow. “They are her favorites, of course I’ll pick those”, the client replies, pushing the glasses on the bridge of his nose. “Don’t get me wrong, sir. You have a fine taste… But you’ve been sending miss Y/N these bouquets for the past three months. Don’t you think it’s time she finds out about the sender?”, the florist adds, his hands neatly fixing the bow of the bouquet.

“Ah, don’t worry about this, it will happen sooner than you think”, the young man chuckles. “Oh? Are you finally revealing your true intentions to the lady? About time”, the florist jokes and the two men share a laugh.

“This is the last bouquet Y/N will ever receive, rest assured. I’ve already made my arrangements about the reveal”, the handsome stranger takes out his wallet to pay. “Are you going the old-fashioned way of a love letter? Or an invitation to a date?”, the florist asks one last question as the client walks away from the counter, turning back to flash a knowing smirk.

“Definitely the latter~”.

Knock knock-

“Come in”, you exclaim and the door opens to reveal Chan, holding a sealed yellow envelope in his hand. "Hey, this came in for you", he points at the envelope and you narrow your eyes towards it. "It's not a bomb, we checked it at the entrance", he reassures you with a smile. "Who sent it?", you ask him and he places it on your desk. "Beats me. The boy who brought it said it was strictly for you", Chan shrugs, "Anyways, I'll be off now-", "One more thing", "Go ahead", "Um… If you wanted to give flowers to a woman, what would you pick?", you ask him and Chan is taken aback.

"Mina loves red roses, and they symbolize passion and love, so I'd go with those", he replies and you notice a faint blush on his cheeks. "O-Okay, that's all. Thank you, Chan", you answer and smile at him. "I'll be off then!", he chirps and leaves the office, closing the door behind him.

Your eyes fall on the sealed envelope, but the ringing of the phone on your desk catches your attention and you pick it up.

"Hello?", "Good evening, Chief Inspector", a deep voice greets you from the other end and a chill runs down your spine. "Who is this?!", you raise your voice and a chuckle erupts, a mocking one. "Oh come now, Inspector, I thought you'd recognize me", he answers and the realization hits you like a ton of bricks.

"What do you want, Jeon?", "Ah, now we're talking, sweetheart", "You're not answering the question", "Oh, my apologies, Inspector. You see, I've really enjoyed the game we've been playing the past four months...But I think it's time for the finale to come, don't you think?", he says with an almost teasing lilt and you grip the phone in your hand. "The only way to end this is to shove you into the deepest cell of the fucking jail, you madman", you grit your teeth.

"That can happen too, sweetheart - if you come to the abandoned warehouse next to the port in the next hour", he sternly says and you scoff. "And what if I don't?", "Open the envelope in front of you and you'll understand that you don't have another choice", Wonwoo adds and you take the envelope in your hands, ripping it open. Your eyes widen in horror as you see pictures of Chan and his girlfriend, walking on the street happily.

"You're fucking sick", "I'll see you in an hour, sweetheart. Looking forward to it~", and the line goes dead. You slam the phone down and you kick your desk out of frustration and fear.

Once again, he was one step ahead of you, yet this time, he threatened your friend's life and he did that right in front of your face. But you were never known as one to give up and you definitely wouldn’t give up now.

You sit down on your chair and open your drawer, taking out a piece of paper, the pen resting between your fingers. You take a deep breath and start writing the letter, the words you had in your mind imprinted on the white paper, one by one. You feel your hand shaking after you put the pen down, but you grab your own wrist with your free hand to stabilize it. You fold the letter in half and put it into an envelope, sealing it tight.

A minute passes and you take the wired phone of your office and you dial a number, waiting for someone to pick up.

“Hello?”, “Chief Inspector L/N here”, “C-Chief?!”, “Send officers Choi and Park to my office now. It’s urgent”, you say shortly and sternly. “I- Yes, ma’am, right away”, you hear the trembling voice on the other end of the line and you put down the phone, tapping your foot as you wait for them.

"You called us, Chief?", the policemen appear in your office a few minutes later. "I want you to gather a team, take three vehicles and go to Inspector Lee's house and stay there until I say so", you sternly announce, as you fumble with your gun, loading it with a new set of bullets.

"Roger that, Ma'am. May I take the liberty to ask why?", the policeman asks and you put your gun into your back pocket. "This is something that is about me and Inspector Lee, it shouldn't bother you", you reply, but your eyes fall on the letter you wrote moments ago and you take it into your hands.

"All I want you to do is deliver this to Inspector Lee himself, without opening it", you hand over the letter to the policeman and he puts it carefully into his uniform jacket, nodding in affirmation. "Now go", you point to the exit and they leave your office.

You feel like your heart is about to jump out of your chest, you know that you're about to take the greatest risk of your life by meeting the criminal himself. But you know that it's the only choice you have.

The sound of police sirens stir Chan awake from his sleep and he groans once he hears the familiar sound of the doorbell of his house. He reluctantly gets up from the bed, ruffling his hair. “Chan? What’s going on?”, his girlfriend is awake as well, rubbing her eyes. “I don’t know, honey, someone is knocking the door, gotta go check”, he mumbles with a groggy voice. He drags his feet downstairs and goes to the door, opening it to reveal two policemen and three vehicles parked outside his house.

“Excuse me, what is the meaning of this?”, Chan asks the two policemen standing in front of him. “We apologize for the inconvenience, sir, but we have direct orders to guard the entire perimeter of your house” the policeman explains. “Chan? What is happening?”, his girlfriend comes down, her hand laced with Chan’s. “Don’t worry, baby, I’m gonna solve this in a few minutes”, he reassures her with a small smile. “O-Okay”, she presses a quick peck on his cheek and leaves.

“Who has given this order?”, he runs his hands through his hair. “Chief Inspector, Sir Lee”, “Y/N? But why?”, “I believe you will understand once you read this, sir”, the policeman replies and hands him over a letter and he grabs it, ripping it open. His eyes instantly recognize your handwriting and he sucks a breath in, beginning to read your letter.

“Dear Chan,

If you’re reading this letter, then you’ve probably already witnessed the police team guarding your house. I know it’s sudden, but it’s all for the sake of your safety, your girlfriend included.

About an hour ago, I received a phone call from Jeon Wonwoo himself, requesting a meeting with me at a location I cannot share with you - because I know you will do everything in your power to find me.

You might call me crazy and stupid and reckless, but it’s the only way to keep you safe. Safe from his deranged, murderous spree. I cannot let another innocent couple die on my watch, let alone you and Mina.

This could be my last night - but I’ll make sure it’s Wonwoo’s last night in this world as well.

Thank you for everything, my friend.

- Y/N”

Chan lets the letter fall on the floor, completely frozen in his spot, the words stuck in his throat. He and Mina were Wonwoo’s next victims - and you, his colleague and head of the case, went head-on to end this once and for all.

“Why?”, he whispers to himself, “Why me?”. “Sir? Everything okay?”, the police officers ask him and he shakes his head sideways, his hands running through his hair and over his face, frustration overtaking him. “No, I’m not okay!”, he yells and circles around the couch plopping down, devoid of any emotion.

“Oh my God…”, he mutters, head hanging low, feeling completely lost. “God, please keep her safe”.

If anyone saw you walk into the place you are now, they would call you crazy.

But you knew that it was the only choice you had. You couldn’t afford to let another life slip from your hands, let alone Chan’s life - possibly his girlfriend’s too. Yet the possibility of you losing your life tonight was looming over your head.

You try to shake off any malicious thought and load your gun, treading carefully in the rather dim-lit warehouse. You let out a breath you were holding this whole time and lower your gun, making sure that nobody was in the warehouse, except for you.

“Of course he wouldn’t show up, this was a fucking distraction”, you curse under your breath and take a few steps forward, noticing a table. You put your gun down and rest your hands on the surface, your head hanging low.

“I feel offended, sweetheart”, a deep voice echoes behind you and sirens are going off in your head immediately and you grab your gun again, swinging your arm and you fire a shot in the dark, smiling once you hear a hiss from the direction of the bullet. However, your smile fades as soon as the man emerges from the shadows and a chill runs down your spine once the dim light illuminates his face.

“Not a very warm welcome on your behalf, is it now, Chief Inspector?”, Wonwoo smiles sadistically, as he takes off his red satin glove and wipes the blood that drips from the fresh scar on his left cheek - presumably from the bullet you fired minutes ago. “Says the psychotic murderer”, you spit back, gun pointing directly to his head. “You still call me that after all these months? After all we’ve been through?”, he asks you with fake sadness. “We? More like everyone in the city, except for you!”, you furiously yell.

“These people were the reason I’ve turned like this and you know it all too well, my dear Y/N”, “Don’t fucking call me that”, you grit your teeth and Wonwoo chuckles, throwing the glove on the ground. “Why not? Does it make you feel some kind of way?”, he smirks and raises his eyebrow suggestively. His cockiness makes your blood boil and you try to hit him with your gun, using it as a club, but he stops your hand with his own mid-air.

“So feisty…Very sexy of you, sweetheart”, he leans in your ear and tightens his grip around your wrist, making you wince in pain, thus forcing you to drop the gun down. “Let me go, you asshole!”, you groan in pain and as if he’s hit by a reality check, he lets your hand go and you push him away, making him stumble back a few steps. “You enjoy this, Jeon? Bringing pain to people around you?”, you angrily ask him and he looks at you with pain in his gaze. “No, not you. Anyone but you!”, he nearly pleads and you suck a breath in, trying to calm down yourself.

His disorder is acting up, proceed with caution, you make a mental note to yourself and take another deep breath. “Wonwoo, listen to me. I know you’re in pain and you want this to end, but killing people is not the right way”, you try to approach him in a more civil way, “I cannot help you run away, but I can help you fight your way back into normalcy with the right medical help. All I need is your cooperation”, you finish your sentence and a sheer, nearly manic laughter cuts through the air and your eyes widen in horror.

“Normalcy? Sweetheart, we both know this is a huge lie. Nobody would be willing to help me - nobody ever wanted to help me. Not even her - I loved her, yet she thought I was a freak”, Wonwoo explains with a venomous tone and your mind goes back to his very first victim, his own girlfriend.

“But you already know everything, don’t you? You know everything about me, Y/N… right?”, he asks you and you gulp down, nodding in agreement and his lips break into a huge grin. He dips his hand into the pocket of his jacket and pulls out a white rose, his eyes trailing on the petals fondly. “Did you know that white roses symbolize-”, “Innocence, purity, loyalty and young love. Yes, I know”, “Hm, of course you do. It’s your favorite flower after all”, he traces his thumb over the pristine petals and your breath hitches in your throat.

“How did you-”, “How did I know that? Oh, my dear Y/N, I know everything about you - everything that no one else ever bothered to learn about you”, “Stop”, you grit your teeth.

“Because no one else loved you, Y/N”, “SHUT UP!”, you scream and lurch forward, grabbing him by his leather choker, the chains dangling under your hands. Your eyes are burning holes in his pretty face, your own eyes brimming with tears. “You…know nothing about me, Jeon Wonwoo”, you grit the words and the cocky attitude he had earlier is back on his face. “Oh, sweetheart… We’re so different, yet so similar. Both put on a high pedestal, unapproachable by the society”, his tone is smooth yet comforting, in a sick and twisted way. His hand comes up to cradle your cheek but you wince away and he shushes you with a finger on your lips. “All those people were in love, such an innocent love”, Wonwoo speaks again, his expression now softer, “And they made me so goddamn jealous, Y/N. All of them were so happy and it made me fucking sick…”, he almost sobs and you swear you’re about to go insane. “But then you appeared. You’ve been chasing me down for the past four months, giving me so much attention”. He leans in, his pretty lips ghosting the shell of your ear.

“And it makes feel so fucking alive, sweetheart”.

Your heart stops at his words and your hand tightens around his choker, the leather creaking under your palm. “This world you’ve created in your head is not fucking real and what you’ve done is unforgivable. And I do not care about you”, you growl and let his choker go, pushing him back. As if it was a light switch, his face hardens again and he looks at the white rose in his hand.

“You know… This is my birth flower and your favorite. I wanted to give it to you, Y/N. But you don’t want it”, he states, clicking his tongue, “Which is ironic, because you were always so happy to receive all these bouquets, weren’t you?”, he adds and the horrendous realization dawns upon you. “The flowers… That was you?”, “Who else could it be, sweetheart?”, Wonwoo confirms it and you cover your mouth with your hand in terror.

The man who has been haunting you was the one who gave your life meaning and purpose.

“Why..?”, you ask him with a trembling voice and he lets the flower drop on the ground and approaches you, his hand coming under your chin to tilt it upwards. “I already told you, sweetheart. We’re like two halves of a whole”, the mad man replies, his eyes fixated on your lips. “You’re so infernally beautiful yet so fucking disgusting”, you wrap your hand around his neck, your nails digging in his fair skin. A sadistic grin spreads on his lips, a tainted lust swimming in his brown orbs.

“That’s all I wanted to hear from your lips, sweetheart”.

He threads his hand in your hair and slams his mouth on yours, his body pinning yours on the table behind you, his tongue hungrily swirling against yours. There is a faint, metallic taste in your mouth, but it’s so sinfully addictive and you can’t get enough of it. Your nails scratch down the expanse of Wonwoo’s neck and you thread your fingers on his choker again and you pull it harshly, snapping it off his skin, making him hiss in your mouth. He pulls away, your bottom lip caught between his pearly whites, biting it hard enough to draw blood from the rosy flesh and soothing it with his wet muscle.

Your head is spinning from the intensity of the kiss, your sanity long gone, replaced by a carnal, manic desire - and you can see the same desire in Wonwoo’s eyes.

“I fucking hate you, Jeon Wonwoo”, you bare your own teeth at him and he chuckles devilishly, his hand leaving your hair, traveling down your cheek, your jaw and around your neck, tilting his head sideways. “You look so pretty with my hand around your neck, sweetheart”, he trails his lips on your skin. “But this needs to get out of the way”, and his hands are coming in front of your black tee, tearing it in half with ease, making you gasp.

He gets up and hastily takes off his jacket and leather shirt, revealing his toned frame and the rest of his fair skin, your eyes noticing the countless scars on his arms. Probably from previous attempts of taking his own life.

"Pretty, aren't they?", he grips your skin hard with his hands, "It was hard to make them, but it felt so good, so addicting", he bites his lip, "But nothing is more addicting than you, sweetheart", he moans against your neck, hands trapping your wrists above your head. He's kicking your legs open with his knee and he unbuttons your jeans with one hand, pulling them down harshly and unbuttoning his as well. He frees his cock, standing thick and flushed an angry red color.

You feel your head spinning, your mouth salivating at his sheer size and you involuntarily clench around nothing. Your brain has halted every single rational decision and your primal urges, mixed with the deranged attraction you have for Wonwoo have gotten the better of you. You’re engulfed by his sinful, lunatic aura and his deadly looks, his sharp features and body chiseled to perfection. As if he was crafted by God himself - or the Devil.

“God, just fuck me already!”, you arch your back, angrily whining in his iron grip. Wonwoo lets your wrists go and slams his hands beside your head, startling you. “You’re so demanding, sweetheart…But I could never say no to you”, he slides his cock between your folds, laughing in a condescending manner as he collects your wetness with the head of his shaft, spreading it all over your pussy. “You’re so wet and all for me. It makes me want to go soft on you, Chief Inspector”, he slurs your title on purpose and you land a harsh slap on his right cheek,making him hiss loudly. He feels his pale flesh throb from the impact and he tilts his head, clicking his tongue in annoyance.

“You’ll regret doing this, sweetheart”, Wonwoo growls in your face and slams his cock inside you and you scream from the sudden intrusion, his girth proving a bit too much for you to handle. You try to breathe evenly, but his hand wraps around your neck, pressing the sides tight enough to restrict your air flow, but not cut it off completely. “What’s wrong, Y/N? Cat caught your tongue? Or is my cock too much for your lil’ cunt?”, Wonwoo sneers in your face. “T-Too tight”, you choke out and he smirks, pulling out almost completely, letting only the tip inside, just to slam back in your hole with double force.

He starts ramming your cunt, his hips slamming in yours with brutal force, your eyes fixated on the bulging veins on his supporting arm. The whole table is shaking from Wonwoo’s movements and a satisfied smirk spreads on his lips as he sees your expression, lost in a lustful haze. He’s infatuated with the effect he has on you, it keeps feeding the world he has created in his already poisoned mind.

“I’ve been dreaming of this moment, sweetheart. You’ve no idea how many times I’ve pictured you just like that, laid out and moaning underneath me”, Wonwoo groans in between his thrusts. “W-Wonwoo-!”, you moan and grip the arm that’s around your neck, your other hand finding purchase in his hair. “That’s it, sweetheart, moan my name”, he picks up the pace and you muster your strength to slap his face again, on the same spot. He groans in pain, but he licks his lips hungrily, the stinging sensation making his cock throb in your cunt.

“You love hurting me, don’t you?”, “You seem to enjoy this, you fucker”, you let out a breathy chuckle and Wonwoo shares your reaction. “Baby, I would enjoy getting a bullet to the heart if it was from your hand”, he half-whispers. “You…are fucking crazy”, you spit out with a venomous tone. “Crazy for you”, he smiles and pulls out of you, making you whine at the sudden emptiness. You try to collect yourself, your hands struggling to straighten your clothes again. You want to kick him down to the ground, but you freeze once he drops on his knees, spread wide and your discarded gun in his hands.

“Don’t you dare-”, “Take it”, he stretches his arm towards you and you immediately snatch the weapon out of his hand, holding it on his head, your free hand in his hair, tilting it towards your face. Your teeth are gritted right in front of his eyes, tears running down your cheeks out of frustration and anger. You’re so close yet so far from your goal, the criminal you’ve been chasing is finally one bullet away from victory, the end to this blood-stained case.

“Come on. Pull the trigger, sweetheart. Pull the trigger and grant the both of us our wishes”, Wonwoo mutters, his lips only a breath away from yours. “I just want this to end”, you sob, the gun slightly quivering in your hand. “I know, sweetheart. But you have the power to end it all”, he almost coos, his hand wrapping around your wrist to stop your shakiness. “Besides, I said it before - I would enjoy getting a bullet to the heart from your hand”, he ghosts his lips over your fingers and you suck a harsh breath in.

“It’s so fitting, don’t you think? Getting closer to each other, two sides of the same coin and both of us rewarded with what we desire most”, Wonwoo guides your hand from his head down his cheek, over his neck and he stops once he reaches his chest, right on the spot where his heart is. “I will pay for my sins and you’ll become a hero, sweetheart. Would you like that? Being praised for your efforts? Closing the case on your own?”, he asks you, his eyes looking right into yours.

“You only have to make my heart stop…and yours will be put at ease again”, Wonwoo’s eyes flutter, slowly closing, his lips barely touching yours. You let out a shattering scream and you pull the trigger, firing the bullet straight into his heart, a gasp escaping Wonwoo’s mouth. He draws short breaths, his blood staining his skin and yours alike, watching him in horror as his life slowly fades away.

“Thank…you…”, is all he manages to say and gives you a soft kiss - his farewell to you. His lifeless body falls forward and you catch him with your arms, dropping the blood-stained gun next to you, letting out a blood-hurling scream, finally letting your tears spill from your eyes, crying out as if you lost your lover. Yet he never was in the first place.

So why were you crying so much? Was it your guilt? His wasted life? The lost lives of his victims?

You couldn't understand. But one thing was certain.

Jeon Wonwoo was gone. And he took you with him.

#collab call: death is upon us #wonwoo angst #wonwoo smut #wonwoo horror #svt wonwoo #jeon wonwoo #svt angst #svt smut #svt horror #seventeen angst #seventeen smut #seventeen horror #seventeen

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tteokdoroki · 3 years ago

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— FUCKIN’ HER FIVE WAYS !

ʚ♡ɞ SYNOPSIS: welcome to my very first kinktober event! for five weeks, every friday until october 31st, i’ll be posting a short fic based on five kinks and characters selected by you guys ! dynamight.net proudly presents — fuckin’ her five ways.

ʚ♡ɞ cw. the following pieces contain dark content and nsfw themes, each is tagged with it’s own warrnings. please heed these for your own safety. minors do not internact.

ʚ♡ɞ a/n. join the kinktober taglist here ! likes + rbs are always appreciated.

OCTOBER 1ST - THE FUTURE WE PLANNED !

ৎ୭. izuku midoriya + breeding.

ৎ୭ synopsis. after years of hiding in the shadows and being on the run, our beloved vigilante izuku midoriya returns to his girlfriend’s home to help you build the family you’ve always dreamed of.

ৎ୭ cw. including; dub-con, somnophilia, cheating, lingerie, breathplay, tentacles, pregnancy kink.

OCTOBER 8TH - DUDE, YOUR SISTER’S HOT !

ৎ୭. eijirou kirshima + overstimulation.

ৎ୭ synopsis. kirishima hates the way his friends talk about his step-sister— he knows that you’re hot, knows that you’re filthy, but only he gets to see the dirty sides of you and his friends will just have to sit this one out.

ৎ୭ cw. including; step-cest, humiliation, forced orgasm, voyeurism, impact play, dom-sub, consensual-non-consent.

OCTOBER 15TH - SIT, PAW, BEND OVER !

ৎ୭. koutarou bokuto + dumbification.

ৎ୭ synopsis. when the volleyball off-season rolls around and things get a little lonely for bokuto, he adopts a precious husky hybrid to keep him company— however, you’re not as well behaved as he would like.

ৎ୭ cw. including; hybrids, pet play, collars-leashes, marking, brat-taming, size kink, degredation.

OCTOBER 22ND - BANG IN THE MIRROR !

ৎ୭. megumi fushiguro + mirror sex.

ৎ୭ synopsis. a girls day out with nobara has you blowing up megumi’s phone with pictures of you in the cutest, tightest, shortest dress he’s ever seen—and after a few more sinful messages, your dress makes its debut in your boyfriend’s private show.

ৎ୭ cw. including; body worship, clothed sex, sexting, exhibitionism, orgasm control, praise, bondage.

OCTOBER 29TH - SHE’S MY FAVOURITE GIRL !

ৎ୭. katsuki bakugou + possesive sex.

ৎ୭ synopsis. your best friend’s girlfriend doesn’t like you, but can you really blame her? i mean, you’re perfect ! pretty, smart, likeable and you have her boyfriend wrapped around your perfectly manicured finger.

ৎ୭ cw. including; dub-con, recording, cheating, cherry chasing, manipulation, spit, thigh-ridng, cumplay.

OCTOBER 30TH - MY BABYSITTER’S A PSYCHO ! ( SPECIAL )

ৎ୭. mikey / manjiro sano + babysitting horror prompt.

ৎ୭ synopsis. as part of @/cyancherub’s wheel of misfortune collab. nearing the anniversary of his brother’s disappearance, mikey gets stuck with babysitter he doesn’t want, for protection, as ordered by his parents. he should count his blessings that she’s around too, don’t you know mikey? there’s a killer on the loose.

ৎ୭ cw. including; corruption, knife-play, branding, manipulation.

6K notes · View notes

sanstropfremir · 2 years ago

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4th gen bg haven't gained popularity outside of their own fanbases which is also why it's rare to see like any of them on variety shows but I've been getting the feeling that ggs are still doing pretty well? Like gg always have been more popular but IVE's been doing like insanely well and even itzy and aespa have done leagues better than the 4th gen bgs from the big three. Anyways I'm sure someone already asked but what 4th gen groups do you think people should keep an eye on on or check out?

that's because girl groups have double the intended audience than boy groups lmao. girl groups are marketed to male AND female audiences, but boy groups are only marketed to female audiences, for many obvious heteronormative reasons.

alrighty (cracks knuckles) you want recs? lemme give you some recs:

purple kiss: debuted 2021. had the most perfect first comeback and have a no skip discography. great performers and have really good intro choreographies. bside recs: pretty psycho, cast pearls before swine

billlie: debuted 2021. they got a big boost in popularity thanks to gingamingayo but i'm gonna rec them anyways bc they deserve it. their debut track inexplicably samples christmas music. they did an excellent kick it cover. bside recs: flipp!ng a coin, overlap

pixy: debuted 2021. flop bc their company is tiny but they do a mean horror concept and have some of the best bsides in the game. they're having a comeback right now pls support. bside recs: greedy, the moon, moonlight.

xg: debuted 2022. they're a korean japanese collab group so they don't promote the same way as other groups do. absolute banger of a first single produced by simon from dalmation, and they're going to be releasing another at the end of the month

cignature: debuted 2020. also flops but they make bangers. boyfriend is what caught my attention but i'm a big fan of assa as well. bside recs: villain, hinghing

tan: debuted 2022. formed from a literal survival show and has the MOST second gen energy you will see outside of someone from second gen. which is fitting because one of the members is actually second gen. incredible rnb debut track and the english version is even better. and here's an acapella version for good measure. surely this traffic light cover will cure my mental illness. they're about to have a comeback that's gonna blow my brains out. bside recs: literally just listen to their whole ep it's three and a half songs.

tempest: debuted 2022. the new boy group from yuehua (woodz's agency). super fun debut track and they're very promising performers. i would commit a crime for hanbin (pink hair). bside recs: bad at love, just a little bit

blitzers: debuted 2021. major first year theatre kid energy and i find it so endearing. the debut choreo involved spinning their maknae 360 degrees for no reason. their first comeback was my favourite choreo of 2021. bside recs: hop in, love bottle.

nine.i: debuted 2022. the most insane (figurative) debut choreo i have ever seen. here's me losing my shit about it in the tags, and here's a reaction video they did where they explain all of the move choices. so basically content made for me and me only. also one of their members produced their entire ep. bside recs: beauty inside, wasted youth

tnx: debuted 2022. these boys are FRESH (like debuted a month ago fresh) but i've been keeping an eye on them thanks to this frankly better than it should have been win cover. all those boys made it into the group btw. bside recs: 180sec, burst up.

omega x: debuted 2021. formed entirely from members of disbanded 3rd gen flop groups as a 'second chance' type group. if you want crunch, here's some crunchy. if you want bright, here's some bright. bside recs: younger, action, bounce with me

dkz (formerly dongkiz): debuted 2019. these boys are mega flops that have already gone through a name change AND a lineup change. absolutely banging music and they do mostly bright and fun concepts. see: cupid, crazy night, lupin, blockbuster, fever

a.c.e: debuted 2017. they debuted in hot pants with only a fetish gear company sponsorship and a dream. they. are. singers. who. SING. they're officially on hiatus rn bc 4/5 of them are in the military but you should still support them. see also: take me higher, down, changer, goblin, undercover

onf: debuted 2017. they're also on hiatus because they all enlisted at the same time (minus their japanese member u) but you should still support them because they produce summer bangers. see: sukhumvit swimming, complete, popping, beautiful beautiful, we must love, goosebumps. also one of the greatest bsides of all time

onlyoneof: debuted 2019. blew up a little bit last year for doing a homoerotic pseudo kink choreo with a dick grab. if you like stuff adjacent to western indie/alt music these are the boys for you. see: savannah, dora maar, sage, angel, designer, gaslighting

golden child: debuted 2017. picking up the story mv slack. one of their members can play paganini and if you don't know what that means, it's not an insignificant skill. see: pump it up, wannabe, burn it (also a story mv)

oneus: debuted 2019. it's likely that most people know about oneus already but in case you didnt, you're welcome. extremely strong dance group and with impeccable concepts. also they have the actual best fourth gen dancer yeo hwanwoong. see: luna, bring it on, no diggity, valkyrie. their sibling group is the kband onewe and you should check them out too.

ok that's enough for now, i think.

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thrillridesz · 3 years ago

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the secrets we share ▫ k.yh

in part of the ‘don’t breathe’ halloween collab hosted by @junjungsunwoo

⥛ pairing: serial killer!younghoon x detective!reader (f)

⥛ genre: angst, horror, thriller, action, suspense, unrequited love, stalker!au, serial killer!au

⥛ synopsis: a serial killer is on the loose, leaving a trail of gruesomely mutilated bodies in his wake. as the detective assigned to his case, this case holds a special significance close to your heart and you need answers... but will you catch him in time?

⥛ warnings: swearing, blood, gore, extreme violence, domestic violence, abuse (physical and verbal/emotional), depression, character death, betrayal, gun usage/violence, mentions and usage of knives, obsessive behaviour, stalking, insanity

⥛ word count: 7.6k

⥛ a/n: partially edited! I actually wrote this one way back in July and have been looking forward to posting this since then! this marks my first tbz horror/thriller fic and I hope you (whoever you are) enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! once again, feedback is also highly appreciated! (please let the mf tags work)

“Rise and shine, workaholic.”

You jolt awake from your slumber and look up blearily at your surroundings through squinted eyes, wincing at the bright glare of the sunlight streaming through the shades. The rickety, old ceiling fan is whirring away as usual with a loud creak every now and then, disrupting the morning peace in the office and a telephone rings off the hook at another desk. Officers move swiftly and shuffle across the linoleum floor, some in uniform and others plain-clothed, chatting into phones and carrying stacks of thick classified documents.

You catch a whiff of black instant coffee in the air and notice a cup of joe from your favourite cafe down the street on your desk in front of you. Rubbing your eyes, you stretch your limbs as Jacob slides over on his office chair, an iced latte in his hands.

“Thanks for the coffee, Cobie,” you say, still half asleep but quickly sobering.

He doesn’t say anything but smiles in a way that makes you knit your eyebrows together as you take a sip of your coffee.

“What is it?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugs, “don’t you think you’re working a little too hard? You haven’t stepped out of the station in almost 2 days.” With that, he gestures at your messy desk piled high with paperwork and your overheated computer monitor.

You take in what he says with narrowed eyes. Your skin feels icky and grimy, your hair greasy and your body reeks of stale coffee and cheap floor cleaning detergent. You have been working on the same case tirelessly for almost a month to no avail and with every lead you receive, it’s almost like a cycle of disappointment - you think you have something but it turns up empty every single time. You stare intently at the face plastered across your screen and the name typed out in bold, black letters.

Kim Younghoon.

With his tall and fit stature, silky ebony hair and intense dark eyes that seemed to hold so much innocence and goodwill, Younghoon had an appearance that didn’t seem to match up to his serial killer profile.

On the outside, he looked like royalty and every bit of the prince you would think of when you read those fairytales to children but on the inside, he was a monster. He was a monster and a beast who lusted for blood, got an adrenaline kick off of suffering and left a trail of bodies in his wake wherever he went.

It was all over the news, all those bloody murders and sudden disappearances of people only for them to be discovered dead, sometimes in the goriest and most cruel ways imaginable. Dismembered limbs, horrifyingly disfigured bodies and faces… the images themselves sometimes left even the seasoned police officers and forensics department sick to the stomach, people who have seen terrible things throughout their careers.

The media has since dubbed him ‘The Boogeyman’, for the terror he brought along with him and his elusiveness. For months, the public have lived in constant trepidation, wondering when he would strike and many have publicly derided the police for failing to subdue him. This was a man who knew how to slip out of the police’s clutches and for every one step they took, he was always three extra steps ahead. Even now as you scroll through Youtube and online forums, the comments are harsh and biting.

choichan0232: back when the police are actually able to do their job smh

princesskkuno: it’s as if the police dont give a shit abt anything and just let this fking murderer go around killing #fuckthepolice

xmelsebzx: they should just fire every single one of them, istg i’ve never seen any police department fail so spectacularly at their job

“Quit looking at those comments. They don’t understand how hard we’ve all been working, especially you,” Jacob snaps, breaking you out of your reverie.

Your hands are trembling at this point and you have to put down your coffee just in case you don’t spill it. The dark circles under your eyes are darker than they have ever been and you can feel your heart pounding against your ribcage.

Jacob peers at you, his brows furrowed in concern and he reaches out to touch your hand and you flinch.

“Y/n? Are you okay?”

His voice sounds distant and your head begins to throb. This whole thing is starting to take its toll on you and you rub at your temple, soothing your incoming headache. You look up and take a deep breath. Managing a weak smile, you reply as you look into his eyes, “I will be.”

The look on his face indicates that he remains unconvinced.

“You sure? I think you should go home and take a break. Leave it to the rest of us.”

You bite your bottom lips nervously and he leans forward.

“I mean it, y/n. You deserve it. You’re overworked.”

You sigh, your voice wobbly.

“I know but-”

“If this is because of what happened, all the more you should rest and then come back when you’re clear-headed. Sangyeon would hate to know you’re neglecting your health and body over this,” he interrupts sharply but not meanly and you stiffen.

A moment of silence passes between the both of you and you look up at Jacob and hold his gaze.

“Jacob…”

“I’m your partner for this case. We’re supposed to work on this together so this case is mine as much as it is yours.” He says firmly and you know there is no way you were going to change his mind. You must say you aren’t very used to this side of Jacob - his eyes which normally sparkled with good humour and playfulness were now hard and unyielding, his gentle voice set. There were no two ways about it.

You can only relent and the usual softness in his eyes returns almost instantly and he pats you gently on the back.

“Go get some rest, eat some solid food. Take care of yourself and don’t come back until you’re well rested okay?” He asks and you nod as you switch off your monitor.

He watches as you leave and he opens his mouth as if he wants to say something, only to close it again and turn back to his work.

You step out onto the streets and watch as people go about their usual business. A mother is attempting to placate her crying child over a dollop of fallen chocolate ice cream on the ground across the street and a young, female cyclist whizzes past you and you instinctively lean backwards, almost falling over. It feels like forever since you’ve stepped out of the station and your limbs feel like lead as you force one leg in front of the other.

The sound of the morning traffic and chattering of people sound too loud, the sun feels too bright and your clothes are beginning to stick to your skin and you’re aware that you stink. The burden of not having made any progress so far weighs you down, like a boulder chained to your ankle. A huge screen set on a tall glass building is playing the morning news and news of the most recent murder last week flashes across the screen, almost taunting you.

It was a gruesome one - a twenty something college student by the name of Eric Sohn - found with his insides hollowed out in a ditch. Several passersby around you stare up at the screen with horrified expressions which turn to a mixture of pure fear and rage when the screen flicks to Younghoon’s image. You stare into those pixelated, cold, murderous eyes and they seem provoking, as if it tells you that somewhere the man is laughing to himself at the incompetence of the police.

You look away. Even if you were to run back to the station, Jacob would kick you right back out anyways.

It feels like ages before you make it back to your empty, unkempt apartment and the first thing you do is flop onto the sofa. Your apartment smells odd, like old pizza and lavenders. It is dark with the curtains drawn and you can hear the lady upstairs singing offkey to Britney Spears’ ‘Toxic’, her high pitched voice screeching and irritating. Your floor is littered with papers filled with scrawls and a large noticeboard is tacked against your wall, covered with thumbtacks, leads and pictures of the crime scenes and of course, a picture of him.

You peel yourself off the sofa and stand before the picture of Younghoon, swallowing hard. Your eyes drift to the huge web of gathered notes and evidence you have compiled and at that moment, you have such an overwhelming urge to trash everything and scream your frustrations out but you hold back. Turning, you walk away to the kitchen.

As you pour yourself a glass of water, you notice the cluster of photographs pinned to the refrigerator.

“Sangyeon…” You mumble under your breath, your fingers sliding gingerly over the photograph.

Immortalised in photographs alone, you realise for nth time that you would never be able to see Sangyeon smile the way he did ever again. Without even knowing, tears were beginning to roll down your cheeks as you held the photograph in your hand.

You still remember when the photo was taken. It was in your sophomore year of high school, senior year for Sangyeon. You were a couple of people, a couple in love. The blue skies were clearer than they ever were, the flowers in full bloom as this picture was snapped while the two of you cosied up against each other, smiling like a pair of idiots unaware of what was to come in your futures. His head rested on your shoulder, his hair sweeping over his eyes as his strong arms wrapped themselves around you. You had your hands settled on his, a content smile gracing your face. This was a photograph of a couple who truly loved each other.

You stare hard at the picture until your tears start to blur your vision. That smile that promised the world and those eyes that held such warmth, they were long gone from your reality. From this world.

Looking away, you let the photograph flutter to the floor and gulp down the rest of your water. Your heart is beating so rapidly, you could have a heart attack any moment. Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand brusquely, you took a deep breath.

No matter what, you have to find Younghoon.

The hallways are dark, dank and musty smelling. The lights overhead flicker and the black tiled floor beneath your feet is wet, slippery and the stale water soaks your shoes and socks. Dirty, cracked walls seem to close in on you and your clothes feel itchy and tight.

You squint and struggle to see even a few feet in front of you but you briefly make out a silhouette. The silhouette is tall, masculine and you can see that it’s a man with his back towards you at the other end of the hallway. A bright blue butterfly flits through the air in front of you and you watch as it rests on the wall to your left and the man turns such that his side profile now faces you.

The light falls against his skin and your eyes widen as you realise who it is. Fear fills your heart but as soon as it seeps in, anger quickly settles in. The anger comes in a rush, an unadulterated wave that threatens to overwhelm you completely and wholly. Suddenly, all you see in front of you is a target and you no longer fear anything. You just want to get your hands on him.

Your shoes plod and splash the dirty, stale water in every direction as you start forward but you don’t care. All you hear is the pounding of your heart in your ear and you stare straight ahead, full of determination. Somehow though, your legs feel heavy and every step takes great effort.

Yet, you don’t give up. You continue, the determination in you building up with every step and just when you almost reach him, the floor beneath you opens up and you fall. It’s a dark abyss you are falling into and your limbs that feel heavy earlier now feel weightless and you are a speck of nothing floating in a dark, empty space. You close your eyes and when you open them again, you are back at your apartment.

Except this time, you’re not alone.

A man without a face approaches you and even if there’s no features that tell of his identity, you know who it is. The hand reaches over before you can say anything and his fingers wind into your hair and the next thing you know, you’re crying uncontrollably despite your mind screaming at you not to and he’s dragging you across the floor.

The violence and sick satisfaction he feels from your suffering emanates from his entire being and you are powerless to stop it. Your gun isn’t with you and his grip is vice-like and everything about this is wrong.

You look up with tear-stained cheeks at the figure as he stops short.

A beat passes.

Suddenly, your head is yanked back painfully and he slams your head with all his might against a cabinet and you wake up, screaming into the night with beads of cold sweat lining your forehead.

The apartment is quiet, the sky dark outside and you pant, wide-eyed in your bed. The digital clock at your bedside reads 4:56am and you bury your face into your hands, chest still heaving. The shirt you are wearing clings to your back with cold sweat and you decide that going back to sleep wouldn’t be feasible at this time.

You take a quick shower, get dressed and leave the apartment block and head out onto the relatively tranquil morning streets.

The city never sleeps. No matter how late (or early) you walk out, the streets are never deserted or without a single vehicle in sight. The city lights glow and shimmer against the early morning sky and as you stroll along, the chilly wind whips around and your hair tickles the back of your neck, sending goosebumps down your skin.

As you continue down, you think back to the dream you had earlier. It isn’t the first time you’ve had nightmares like this since Sangyeon died and you had a personal goal to track down Younghoon yourself. Sleeping pills, alcohol… none of them worked. You still had these nightmares one way or another. They terrify you and you shudder in spite of yourself. The haunting possibility that you were never going to catch up to Younghoon chills you to the core and you clench your jaw, your footsteps growing quicker.

“No,” you whisper to yourself, “I have to find him.”

Just as these words escape your lips, you catch a figure shift at the corner of your eye. You stop short, hairs standing at the back of your neck and you turn to see a dark alleyway. There is something ominous about it, something you can’t quite put your finger on and your detective instinct kicks in almost immediately.

You slip your hand into your hoodie pocket where you’ve hidden your police handgun and walk towards the alleyway, eyes steely and hard but your heart beating furiously. The darkness seems to swallow you up and instantly, you feel as if you’re back where you were in your nightmares previously. A large trashcan nearby emits the most foul smell you’ve had to deal with in a while and you hold your breath as you advance closer, your eyes sweeping the area.

A short honk out on the street causes you to jump and turn behind you where the entrance to the alleyway seems miles away now. You turn back and see a dark figure clad all in black standing at the end. The dull streetlight above casts a shadow over his hooded figure and he is muscular but not overly so. Fit, athletic and strong. In his hand is a sharp serrated blade and you hitch your breath as you notice the red, viscous liquid coating the steel blade.

Blood.

You wait in the shadows and you are sure he can probably hear the pounding of your heart but you know it doesn’t matter either way since he definitely knows you are there, waiting for him to make a move. The honk from earlier destroyed all your chances of remaining unseen. The two of you remain locked in a standoff and he lifts his head and you see his face.

Younghoon.

His features are pristine, sharp. Lips split and bloodied, there is an angry, red bloody slash across his right cheekbone but he doesn’t seem to be in pain. If anything, there is a sadistic glint in those dark eyes of his and those very same lips are twisted into a deranged and mocking smile. His white teeth shine under the light and before you can even do anything, he bolts at the turn of the alley.

Without missing a beat, you gave chase and your shoes splash against the puddles and it’s like deja vu all over again. You ignore the feeling of foul water soaking your shoes and socks, your eyes trained intently ahead and as you turn left where he headed, he is nowhere to be found. The numerous stacks of old cardboard boxes unnerve you and you proceed with caution.

You take a few steps and suddenly step on something… soft. Weird, mushy yet springy. You look down and it’s so dark that you can’t even see what you’re stepping on. Against your better judgement, you whip out your phone and turn on your flashlight and what you see causes you to scream.

It’s a human heart.

You look up, horrified and your flashlight moves and you see that something has been written in crimson blood on the brick walls.

see you soon

The camera flash goes off and the entire alleyway is cordoned off as a few police cars park just outside on the street.

The sky is now bright and puffy clouds hang in the blue canvas. The sound of people going about their morning routine fills the entire city and It’s a perfect day out yet it’s anything but perfect for the police department.

“This is fucked up,” Jacob says, shaking his head in disbelief as he watches a forensic officer swab at the now dried up blood from the brick wall for DNA testing. You look at him and back at the words written.

“You think this is a taunt?” He asks.

“I mean, it has to be. ‘See you soon?’ What an arrogant fucker.” Another officer, Hyunjae bristles, running a hand through his hair and the frustration collectively felt by everyone is obvious.

“It’s been a month and we still haven’t gotten close to actually nabbing him. If I were him, I’d get cocky too,” Haknyeon chips in but falters when Jacob shoots him a glare, subtly gesturing towards you.

You remain quiet and you can feel him reaching out to you but you brush his hand away absentmindedly while you inch closer to the bloodied writing on the wall.

Everything sounds far away and even as Haknyeon receives a call and confirms that the heart belongs to the latest victim Eric Sohn, you barely hear him.

See you soon, see you soon, see you soon.

There has to be some kind of clue from that. This is all a game to Younghoon. The man gets a kick out of killing and he’s smooth with it. There is no way this is all there is to it.

That exchange the two of you had, that silent exchange. That was all the confirmation for you to know that he did indeed remember you.

The warehouse was dingy and expansive, far away from civilization. There is mildew on the walls and there was the old stench of rusted metal in the air which threatened to choke you but you refused to let out even so much as a tiny cough. The night was young with the bright full moon hanging in the sky and for a moment, it was peaceful, quiet.

Then, a piercing scream ripped through the air.

It is a scream of pain, agony and fear. It sounds more animalistic than human and it was that scream that truly shook you to your core and you began to cry. Your wrists hurt from being bound to the wooden chair and your ankles were sore from trying to inch out of the thick rope binding. Your hair is a mess with pieces of dried leaves, tiny twigs and dried blood, your face bloodied and your left eye sports a large bruise the size of a baseball. Clothes torn and tattered with your gun tossed to the side and your mouth duct taped, you were completely vulnerable.

In front of you, Sangyeon hangs upside down, tied and bound at the feet with coarse brown rope that almost looks maroon in colour with his blood. He is shirtless, his body marked with gruesome slashes and blood drips down to form a small puddle beneath his thrashing form. Tears are rolling uncontrollably and he begs the man sitting at the corner to let him go.

“Please! I’ll do anything you want, just let me go… please…” He cries out and his voice comes out as a yelp, the voice of a broken man.

Younghoon doesn’t reply, instead choosing to admire his blade, dripping with blood at this point. There is a hollow look in his eyes, a demonic haze. This is the look of a hardened murderer who murders for joy and the thrill of it, you realise. His lips slowly curl into a sick grin and you feel your stomach drop as he rises to his feet.

You struggle against your restraints and you try to kick but to no avail. You struggle so violently, you almost knock yourself backwards but Younghoon reaches you in quick strides and plants a firm hand at the back of your chair. You hold your breath as he leans in, the demon leans in.

His eyes trace your every feature and you feel naked, exposed. Your heart feels like it is about to burst out of your chest and he brings his blade against your soft cheek, tapping the sharp end against your skin. You turn away and he slides the knife and it breaks your skin, a tiny trickle of blood emerging from the slash.

Suddenly, he grabs you roughly by the chin and turns your face to his. The smile is wiped clean from his face. If you were any closer, your noses would be touching and he locks you in an intense gaze while Sangyeon screams in the background. His eyes up close are cold, unyielding and yet there is something… different.

Before you can read more into it, the look is gone and his lips are tilted into the same sadistic smile you’ve seen on his face as he tortured Sangyeon in the past few hours.

His nimble fingers twirls the blade in an almost celebratory, performative gesture and you know that cold hard murderer persona is back. Your eyes widen as you realise what is about to happen and before you can do anything, there is a dull pain at the back of your head and you black out.

When you come to, Sangyeon is dead, you are surrounded by police officers, your fellow colleagues and Younghoon is nowhere to be found.

A funeral was arranged for Sangyeon and the murder was so gruesome that you couldn’t even tell that the corpse in front of you was your husband. Your whole body ached and some injuries were even declared to be semi-permanent but you didn’t care. How could you when your husband is dead?

No matter what everyone said or how they tried to persuade you to take a break from the force, you ignored all of them. You knew you had to get on the case. You knew that you needed to find Younghoon for everything that happened. There is nothing you wouldn’t risk, no place too far that you wouldn’t comb in order to find him.

“Here, eat something.”

You glance up and Jacob is standing before you, holding out a bottle of soya milk and convenience store chocolate bread. You push his offerings away, mumbling, “I’m not hungry.”

He frowns and plops down next to you. Behind the two of you, the rest of the force are busy sourcing out any traces of evidence they can possibly find in the alleyway. Hyunjae is barking orders into his phone while Haknyeon is hard at work, jotting any notes that could have been made. The commotion is enough to give you yet another pounding headache, one of several you’ve had in the past week alone.

“I insist. You’ve lost so much weight and you can’t keep starving yourself like this,” Jacob says in a soft voice, “please, don’t do this to yourself.”

You are silent for a moment before you take the bread and take a bite. He looks visibly pleased by this but the gears in your mind won’t stop working. You are convinced that there has to be some sort of link, that this cryptic message has to mean something and you will stop at nothing to figure it out.

Suddenly, it occurs to you and you could have smacked yourself for not considering the possibility.

You stand up so abruptly that Jacob startles and almost falls to the ground.

“I know where Younghoon is.”

The drive to the old warehouse took some time but finally, the two of you found it.

“Y/n, I’m not sure about coming here alone. I really think we should call for backup.” Jacob says as his car rolls along the uneven, bumpy road. His eyes are narrowed, shifty and on a constant lookout for suspicious activity while you sit unnaturally straight.

“I have to get to the bottom of this now. Getting the rest involved is going to take too much time. I have to do this. For… For Sangyeon.” The last word comes out as a whisper and Jacob looks at you with an unexplainable look in his eyes and he looks as if he wants to say something but then he turns to focus on the road ahead.

“You know you didn’t have to come,” you say and he doesn’t reply for a second before he murmurs, “I want to.”

The car rolls to a stop and the two of you disembark. Handguns at the ready, Jacob and you advance slowly, careful not to make any noises that might possibly alert Younghoon of your presence, if he is even in there.

The old warehouse looked exactly like it did that night of Sangyeon’s death and you shake away the horrible memories. You have to remain alert no matter what. Your hands are beginning to tremble and you curse under your breath. You gave Jacob a hand signal, indicating to split ways and when he shakes his head, you whisper, “I can take care of myself.”

Raising your gun, he looks at you with concern in his eyes and you mouth this time, “Trust me.” He hesitates but relents at the last minute and the two of you split up.

The warehouse is piled high with giant shipping containers and plastic barrels of stale water, filled with dried leaves and bugs. The whole place exudes an eerie vibe but you are undeterred as you advance forward, gun raised. You take care not to step into any of the puddles to make unnecessary noise and you move soundlessly.

A shift in the air behind you causes you to whirl around, eyes scouring the area. The place is quiet, extremely quiet and the slightest misstep can echo through the place. You wonder how Jacob is doing and a part of you is worried but then you reassure yourself.

“Everything is going to be fine, y/n. Calm down.” You whisper to yourself and even that itself sounded loud in this empty warehouse.

A scream suddenly tears through the quiet afternoon and echoes through the warehouse and you recognise it as Jacob’s. A chill runs down your spine, your stomach falls and everything instantly turns dark for you even though it’s bright out. Immediately, you run as fast as your legs can carry you. Your heart is beating a mile a minute and the adrenaline in your body shoots up to obscene levels as you frantically search around.

Sweat trickles down your temple, your back and when you round a corner, you see a pale faced Jacob trapped in a headlock by Younghoon, a blade against his neck. Jacob’s handgun lies useless on the floor and he is a fish on a chopping board, flailing but ultimately no match for the other’s strength.

You stand, locked in a standoff with Younghoon and Jacob, your hand gripping onto your handgun.

Trapped in his arms, Jacob manages to choke out, “Go… y/n…” His face is turning more purple by the second and you rest your finger on the trigger, eyes trained on Younghoon who only smiles back at you. The sunlight streaming in through the gaps in the roof illuminates his face and brings out the coffee brown colour of his soft hair and even as a cold, stony murderer, he still exudes the grace of a swan, the regality of a royal.

“Betraying me, y/n?” Younghoon says, his voice silky and warm. “Is that wise?”

You narrow your eyes.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Younghoon chuckles but tightens his hold around Jacob when the latter struggles and you can see he is gasping for air.

“Let him go.”

Younghoon raises an eyebrow at you skeptically and bursts out laughing. “You are talented at many things, y/n. Acting is not one of them.”

You don’t reply and his smile widens. “Come on, there’s no one around. Is there really a need to keep up with that good cop persona with just one guy around?”

There is a short moment of silence and Jacob stares at you in shock, the dark realisation dawning upon him. The truth of the matter effectively knocks the wind out of him despite the pressure on his neck already attempting to do that. His face grows pallid and he stammers, “y-y/n…?”

The cat is out of the bag. This charade is over.

You sigh in resignation and lower your handgun.

“I didn’t want him to come along, Younghoon,” you begin and point your gun in Jacob’s direction, “He insisted.”

“That’s more like it,” he smirks and releases Jacob who falls to his knees, grasping at his throat. His eyes are bloodshot and shining with denial, betrayal, shock and fear all lumped into one. From afar, he looks like a wounded little child, scrambling on his hands and legs to get up. The expression on his face is one of confusion and he splutters, “What… i-is… going-”

You look at him sadly, a heavy feeling in your heart. You really didn’t want to have to do this but Jacob, he brought it upon himself.

You lift your gun and shoot.

“He had such a bright career ahead of him,” Hyunjae mumbles under his breath softly, his expression grief-stricken. “He didn’t deserve to die.”

It has been a week since Jacob died in the hands of Kim Younghoon, the city’s most wanted ‘Boogeyman’.

When the police found him, he was already long gone - his body scarred with knife wounds and multiple shots to the chest, head and face. It was a cruel way to die but also an equally cruel loss to everyone who knew him.

He was a treasured colleague, valued friend and exceptional detective who did his job well. Everyone remembered him as the colleague who would always look out for his fellow detectives and officers, always shooting anyone a smile and offering words of encouragement when the morale was low. With him gone, nothing really felt the same.

The office seemed a little less bright, a little less warm. His absence was felt by every single person in the room. At some point, a female officer had to excuse herself in the middle of the day and her muffled sobs effectively sent a few others discreetly wiping tears from their eyes.

You look at Hyunjae, saddened and place a hand on his shoulder.

“He really didn’t. But he’s gone now and we have to accept that.”

Hyunjae peers up at you with teary eyes and nods silently, subdued.

Just then, your laptop pings with a notification from your email. It’s an unknown email but you know who it is anyways.

Your place. 1am.

Instantly, your mood is lifted and you smile to yourself, unable to contain your excitement.

1am rolls around and you sit by your balcony, waiting. You have freshened up, brushed your teeth, tidied up the apartment, the only thing left is to wait for him to arrive. You check the time again - 1:11am.

Just where is he?

You are about to give up waiting when you feel a presence creep up behind you and as you turn, you feel his arms wrap around your waist and you let out a startled yelp. Younghoon’s face is buried in the crook of your neck, his chest is pressed up against yours and you love the feeling of his body on yours. He smells of lavender and you’re convinced that lavenders are now your favourite flowers. Hell, you even buy a bunch of them whenever the apartment no longer smells of him. Every cell in your body just misses him so much, it hurts.

“I see you’ve gone all stalker mode on me,” he murmurs in your ear and nods towards the huge noticeboard you have on your wall.

“What was I supposed to do? Just wait for you to come to me?” You whine, your tone accusing. “You never visit as much anymore and I just miss you more with every second that passes. I needed you.”

He laughs and lifts you up in his arms, kissing you and this moment feels so right.

“The detective misses me that much, huh?” He whispers.

“You have no idea. Not only that, I owe you so much. I can never forget the day you got rid of that monster.” Your voice wobbles at the last word.

Sangyeon. He deserved to die the most horrible death.

The two of you had met back in high school and back then, you thought he was everything you looked for in a soulmate. He was suave, charming and every bit the gentleman a man could be. Attractive with a stunning smile, it didn’t take long for you to fall for him. He was kind, sweet and knew the right words to say that would make you swoon. The best part was, he seemed to really love you for who you were as well. He looked at you as if you were the most beautiful person to grace the planet and treated you as such. The torrid love affair the both of you shared was unlike any other and before long, the two of you got married within 4 years of dating.

Married life with Sangyeon was supposed to be blissful, full of sunshines and rainbows but it was anything but. After losing most of his savings in the stock market, Sangyeon turned to drinking and most nights, he would return home drunk and worst of all, violent. The good natured Sangyeon you once knew seemed to turn into a completely different person and the man who you thought wouldn’t harm a fly struck you so terribly that the bruises wouldn’t heal for weeks.

He laid his hands on you any chance he got. He slapped, kicked, punched and strangled you, sometimes to the point whereby you had difficulties walking and with each injury that healed, you had to cover up more that replaced it. What hurt more than the physical injuries were the words he said.

“You’re such a loser, why did I even marry such a good for nothing? You fucking suck.”

“We could get divorced but that mother of yours just wouldn’t give us our inheritance already. It’s wasting my time, ugh.”

“I must be blind when I married you. Fucking hell, you’re ugly as fuck.”

It was truly hell on earth.

Yet, things changed one day. The day you both made the mistake of (or should you say, amazing decision?) of trusting a stranger’s word that brought the both of you to an abandoned warehouse instead of the holiday inn the two of you were supposed to stay for a summer holiday. At the time, there were already a series of murders but Younghoon’s identity was still unknown.

You remembered the first time you saw him. His eyes were galaxies you could get utterly lost in and you’ve never seen such soft lips on a man. He spoke confidently, eloquently. He had such grace to him but you felt something more… dangerous.

Call it detective senses but there was something about him that just drew you in. You weren’t sure if he felt it but you definitely did. Sangyeon was too dense to notice it, instead brusquely accepting his help without so much as a thanks. It was only when the three of you were nearing the warehouse did the both of you realise this was a set up but your fates had been sealed.

When he revealed his true nature as a serial killer, you feared the worst but at the back of your mind, there was a side of you that would have preferred to die rather than go home and be subjected to abuse at the hands of Sangyeon again. If this was your fate, then let it be.

“Please! I’ll do anything you want, just let me go… please…” Sangyeon cried out and his voice came out as a yelp, the voice of a broken man.

As Younghoon leaned in front of you, you felt fear struck you dumb. You quiver under his touch and behind him, Sangyeon screams, “Kill y/n instead! Not me, please not me! I’ll do anything, if you want to kill someone, kill y/n! Kill y/n please!”

Even at death’s front door, Sangyeon was so eager to sacrifice you, outrightly screaming for your murder in place of his. Your tears were beginning to run but you look into Younghoon’s eyes and it’s as if you see the sympathy in his eyes and at that moment, you realise this murderer, this cold blooded, sadistic murderer has more decency and more humanity than your husband. His grip on your chin softens and at that moment, you realise that he’s on your side. The murderer is on your side.

He lifts his blade and you black out.

When you come to, you have to contain your joy firstly at being alive and then at the fact that Sangyeon is dead and murdered in the most gruesome way possible. Finally. Finally, you are free. Free from the shadow of your abusive husband, free from his inner demons and free from the burden of being with him. When your fellow colleagues question you, you remember the man who killed your ex-husband and the way his eyes looked. Eyes that understood you and a soul you connected with more than anything, more than you ever did with Sangyeon.

So you lied, you hid the truth. You don’t tell them that you’ve seen his face. You say you don’t remember a thing and you are the traumatised survivor and nobody questions it. People give you the space you claim to need. Yet deep inside, you want to see him again. You won’t admit it but your heart yearned for him in a twisted kind of way.

Who is he? Where is he from? Where is he now? What is his name?

And so you begin to do your research. You scour sources, the internet, the police database… anything and anywhere you can find. It seems like your sick prayers were answered when a victim who escaped manages to live to tell the public of this man’s identity.

Kim Younghoon was his name.

When that same face that you have yearned to see again appeared on your screen, you thought your heart could burst. Over the past weeks since Sangyeon died, your need to see him again has only grown with each passing day. When you do finally see him, it’s like the stars have aligned and you needed to find him. You throw yourself into your work and the deeper you delve into it, your mind slips slowly into obsession, the kind of obsession that only the twisted can have. You had his pictures everywhere and maybe it’s some sick little voice inside your head or your inner demons orchestrating this whole thing and it isn’t real but you felt an invisible connection with Younghoon.

Two twisted minds connecting across time and space.

The first time you met him again, it was at your place. It was late at night and you were at your kitchen table, obsessing over his whereabouts. You had to find him. It was like a mantra in your head, repeating itself over and over again. You were so engrossed that you don’t notice him standing at the sofa and when you did, the overwhelming happiness took over the shock and you fling yourself at him.

Younghoon stands and for a second, he doesn’t reciprocate the hug but then you feel his hands around your waist and you feel like you’re in heaven.

Two twisted minds connecting across time and space.

So it wasn’t just you who felt the connection. He did too.

Younghoon comes and goes as he likes and you are too scared to say anything even though all you want to do is beg him and do anything you can to get him to stay with you forever. Who cares if he’s a wanted man? He saved you from your abusive, dangerous, monster of an ex-husband. He is perfect for you, murderer or not.

Whenever he leaves, it is a long time before he comes back and you lose sleep, you lose your appetite. It’s like your world stops turning when he isn’t in it. He’s like oxygen to you - you have to have him in your life. The nightmares come when he isn’t around too, scary ones where you run down hallways and it seems as if an invisible force is weighing you down. You want to reach him, you are about to and then you fall.

He is unreachable, unattainable in your dreams and then you land back into that dark time where Sangyeon was still alive. The figure tormenting you in your apartment in your dreams has no face but it didn’t need a face for you to know it’s him, Sangyeon. Some nights, he pours boiling water on you, others he rams your head against the cabinet until your skull cracks and you bleed out . These are just some of the terrifying things he does in your dreams and you wake up, soaked in cold sweat. You are left alone with the fear of never seeing Younghoon again.

When you look at the pictures and photographs on your refrigerator and see Sangyeon, all you feel is contempt and no longer fear, an emotion you’ve felt for so long that you now refuse to feel any of it for a man like him.

You leave his photos there as if by doing so meant that he can see how good you’re having it with a man like Younghoon, rubbing your relationship in his face even in death. You cry tears of joy at the thought of never having to see him again.

Good riddance, Sangyeon.

The other night when you thought you saw Younghoon in the alleyway, you felt like a drug addict who was so close to getting their high. You craved him and seeing him again was everything you wanted right there and then. At first, you hesitated due to the dimness but once you recognised him, he had bolted and you wanted to kick yourself for losing him. How did you miss him? You were just a little heartbroken but when you stepped on that heart, a twisted, dark part of you felt such unbridled joy. This was his way of showing love, isn’t it?

Unconventional, but that was Younghoon.

The message on the wall, it was all the confirmation you needed. When you sought to find him back at the warehouse, it wasn’t a part of your plans but you really couldn’t stop Jacob from following. Damn the man and his insistence. He couldn’t stay off even when told specifically to do so. He practically asked to be led to his slaughter, he was collateral damage. He was about to get in the way of your love with Younghoon. You would rather die than let that happen.

In the present time, Younghoon’s lips meet yours and the two of you remain locked in an embrace. You grin into the kiss and when you part, he asks quietly, “What’s so funny?”

Your eyes are hazy and there’s a faraway look in them and it’s a look of someone who has well and truly lost their sanity.

“I love the taste of blood on your lips.”

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