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elikajinnie · 3 days ago

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The Frequency Of A Killer - S.J

P: Killer!Jake X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Suspense, Teasing, Murder, Attempted Murder, Stalking, Mind Games, Obsessive Behaviour kinda?

Wordcount: + 20k words

Synopsis: After moving to a small town as a horror talk show host, you uncover a deadly cover-up tied to a masked killer. As the bodies pile up, the killer becomes fixated on you. Can you unravel the truth?

a/n: her we go! another killer au but this time its not Heeseung or Ni-ki! We got Jake :) so this is inspired by my fave horror game; killer frequency - 1000% recommend.

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You were used to the rush, the buzz, and the endless opportunities of the big city. The noise didn’t bother you. Networking came naturally, jobs were abundant, and you’d found your niche in the chaos: hosting a podcast about horror and true crime in a way that set your listeners on edge while keeping them hooked. Your show had skyrocketed to fame, and you’d connected with an entire community of enthusiasts who lived for the thrill, just like you. Life was good. Stable. Yours.

Until your company decided you weren’t “it” anymore.

The justification was laughable—“gender diversity,” they’d said. They wanted to swap you out for some guy, as if trading a seasoned, beloved host for an inexperienced one would make everything magically better. You weren’t buying it, but their minds were made up. No amount of protest or proof of your success could change their decision. And so, you left, refusing to stick around and watch them hand your hard work over to someone who didn’t earn it.

That’s how you found yourself in this small, sleepy town, working for a much smaller company that was trying its hand at podcasts. They hired you on the spot, practically drooling over your experience, and offered you a spot as the host of their horror and true crime segment. It was meant to be a temporary gig, a placeholder until—surely—your old company would come crawling back, begging for you to return.

But a month had passed. One whole, quiet month, and they hadn’t reached out. Not even a courtesy email.

At least this place wasn’t half bad. You had your own little booth, tucked away in the back of the building, with soundproof walls and just enough space to feel like your own world. The show was entirely yours to run—aside from the occasional ad spot they made you slip in—and you had free rein to do what you did best. Even the people weren’t bad.

Especially Beomgyu.

Beomgyu was technically your producer, though most of his job seemed to involve screening calls and chatting with you during breaks. He sat in the booth just across from yours, separated by a thin pane of glass, and had this habit of pulling faces at you whenever you got too serious. At first, you thought he was annoying—this twenty-something with a mop of messy hair and a perpetual smirk—but over time, he’d grown on you.

Tonight was no different. You leaned back in your chair, headphones snug over your ears as you wrapped up the last caller. A woman with a trembling voice had called in to share a local ghost story about the old mill at the edge of town, and you’d expertly guided her through the tale, adding just the right amount of suspense and curiosity to keep your listeners hooked.

When the call ended, you glanced over at Beomgyu through the glass. He was grinning, spinning lazily in his chair, and holding up a piece of paper with “9/10” scrawled on it in bold, black ink.

You rolled your eyes and flicked him off with a smirk. He just laughed, pointing to the mic to remind you you were still live.

“Alright,” you said smoothly, turning back to the soundboard. “That’s all the time we have for tonight. Thanks for tuning in, and as always—lock your doors, check under your bed, and don’t trust the shadows.”

The outro music played, and you switched off your mic with a satisfied sigh.

“Not bad,” Beomgyu teased as you stood up, stretching your arms. “But you totally rushed the ending on that last one. Where was the suspense?”

“Where was the suspense?” you echoed mockingly, grabbing a cup of coffee off the table and taking a sip. “How about I’m the professional, and you’re just the guy who answers phones?”

Beomgyu snorted. “Keep telling yourself that. One day, I’m gonna take over your job and show you how it’s really done.”

“Please,” you shot back, rolling your eyes. “You’d last five minutes before you started talking about aliens or some weird conspiracy theory.”

He grinned. “You know me so well.”

The night started off normal enough. You sat at the small desk in the break area, sipping on a lukewarm coffee Beomgyu had somehow convinced you to grab for him before realizing you needed one for yourself too. He lounged across from you, feet propped up on the edge of the table like he owned the place, spinning a pen between his fingers.

“So,” he started casually, tilting his head with that usual lopsided grin of his, “what’s it like being a big-shot city person stuck in our little backwater town?”

You snorted, shaking your head. “First of all, you act like I came here voluntarily. Second, backwater’s a little harsh, don’t you think?”

He shrugged. “I call it like I see it. You’ve been here a month and you still can’t hide the ‘get me out of here’ look on your face.”

“Maybe because I’m waiting for my old company to realize they made the worst mistake of their lives.”

Beomgyu raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? And when they don’t? What’s Plan B?”

“Plan B?” you repeated, narrowing your eyes. “There’s no Plan B, because Plan A is going to work. They’ll come crawling back. Trust me.”

He clicked his tongue and gave you a doubtful look. “Sure, sure. But admit it—this place isn’t so bad. It’s quiet, no traffic, and the rent is dirt cheap. I bet your apartment here is, like, three times bigger than whatever shoebox you had back in the city.”

“Okay, yeah, I’ll give you that,” you admitted, leaning back in your chair. “The cost of living here is nice. And I don’t hate the peace and quiet. But the thing about big cities? There’s always something happening. People, events, opportunities. It’s like… the energy keeps you alive, you know?”

Beomgyu chuckled, twirling the pen like he was in some kind of drumline. “Sounds exhausting. You city people thrive on chaos. Meanwhile, out here, we’ve got… cows. And maybe a parade if you’re lucky.”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s not that bad here. I just… I’m not used to it yet.”

“Give it time,” he said, leaning forward like he was about to share a secret. “Pretty soon, you’ll be one of us. Walking slow, waving at strangers, knowing everyone’s business…”

You grimaced. “That sounds like my worst nightmare.”

Beomgyu laughed so hard he nearly knocked over his coffee. He was still grinning when he asked, “So what was it like, though? Your old job, I mean. The fancy podcast thing.”

For a moment, you hesitated. You could still remember it clearly—the studio, the buzz of the city outside, the adrenaline rush of knowing your audience was hanging on to your every word.

“It was…” you began, searching for the right word. “It was everything I wanted, for a while. I worked my way up, you know? Started small, built an audience, found my voice. It was a grind, but it was worth it.”

Beomgyu nodded, his expression more serious now. “So what went wrong?”

You sighed, tracing your finger along the rim of your cup. “They wanted to ‘freshen things up.’ Change the direction of the show. Apparently, a guy hosting would bring in a ‘different perspective.’”

“That’s bullshit,” Beomgyu said immediately, his brow furrowing.

“Yeah, well, tell that to them.” You shrugged, masking the sting with a bitter smile. “They thought it was a good idea. I didn’t.”

“Idiots,” Beomgyu muttered, shaking his head. “You’re way better at this than some random guy.”

“Thanks,” you said, a small smile creeping onto your face. “I’ll remind them of that when they come groveling.”

Then the clock on the wall chimed, reminding you it was time to start the show.

“Alright, back to work,” you said, standing up and stretching. “Don’t let me catch you slacking, Beomgyu.”

“Me? Slack? Never,” he replied, mock-offended as he followed you toward the booth.

The show started as usual—smooth, easy, familiar. The first few callers were locals sharing urban legends, strange encounters, and the occasional eerie coincidence. Beomgyu stayed in his booth across from you, laughing silently at your quips and holding up cards with goofy doodles to make you break character mid-recording.

But then, midway through the second hour, a call came through that made your stomach drop.

Beomgyu patched it through with his usual nonchalance, giving you a thumbs-up from the other side of the glass. “Line three,” he mouthed.

“Hello,” you said into the mic, your voice steady despite the sudden shift in the air. “You’re on the air. What’s your name, and what story do you have for us tonight?”

There was a long pause. Too long. Static crackled faintly on the other end.

Then, a voice you didn’t recognize—low, and far too calm—spoke.

“Do you ever wonder if someone’s watching you right now?”

Your heart skipped a beat. You forced a laugh, playing it off for your listeners. “Well, I guess I should hope so—otherwise, what’s the point of doing a live show?”

The voice didn’t laugh. “No,” it said. “I mean really watching you. Right now.”

Goosebumps rose on your arms. You glanced toward Beomgyu, who raised an eyebrow, clearly unsure where this was going.

“I think that’s a little too vague to count as a story,” you said, keeping your tone light. “Care to elaborate?”

The line went silent for a moment, then the voice spoke again, quieter this time.

“Check your window.”

Your blood ran cold. You turned instinctively to the window beside your booth. It was dark outside, the glass reflecting nothing but the dim glow of your equipment.

Nothing was there.

But the voice on the other end of the line chuckled softly, sending a chill down your spine.

“Gotcha,” it said, before the call abruptly disconnected.

Beomgyu’s voice crackled through your headphones, pulling you out of the eerie fog left by the last caller.

“That was… weird,” he said, leaning closer to his mic in the booth across from you. You could see his reflection in the glass, brow furrowed in confusion. “I mean, what window? We’re on the second floor. Unless there’s some really tall guy with a ladder out there, what the hell was that supposed to mean?”

A nervous laugh escaped you as you reached for your cup of water, trying to shake off the chill creeping up your spine. “Right? Probably some wannabe prank caller. People love to act spooky when they know they’re live.”

“Yeah, but that voice?” Beomgyu leaned back, tapping his fingers against his desk. “It didn’t sound like someone joking. It sounded… I don’t know. Off.”

“Let’s not overthink it,” you said, though you couldn’t deny the unease settling in your chest. “Weird calls are part of the job, right? It’s probably nothing.”

Beomgyu nodded slowly, but his usual playful grin didn’t return. His eyes flickered to the window behind you, then back to his desk as if trying to distract himself.

Before either of you could dwell on it further, the phone lit up again. Another call.

“Line two,” Beomgyu said, pressing the button to patch it through.

You straightened in your seat, slipping your headphones back on. “You’re on the air. What’s your name, and what story do you have for us tonight?”

This time, the voice on the other end was hurried, shaky, and unmistakably real.

“This is Officer Park from the Greenfield Police Department,” a woman said, her words tumbling out in a rush. “I—God, I don’t even know who else to call right now. I just got back to the station—was out getting donuts for the night shift—and when I walked in, I found…”

She stopped, her voice catching on a sob. Your stomach twisted.

“You found what?” you asked gently, exchanging a wide-eyed glance with Beomgyu through the glass.

“Two of the officers—two of my coworkers,” the woman stammered. “They’ve been stabbed. One of them… one of them’s already gone. The other one is still alive, barely. I called for backup, but closest units are at least five hours away, and I don’t know what to do.”

Beomgyu’s jaw dropped as he mouthed, Is this for real?

You swallowed hard, gripping the edge of your desk. “Okay, Officer Park, take a deep breath,” you said, your tone steady even though your heart was racing. “Are you somewhere safe right now?”

“Yes,” she said, her breath hitching. “I locked myself in the back office. But whoever did this—they could still be here. I didn’t see anyone when I came in, but… Oh, God, what if they’re still inside?”

You leaned closer to your mic, your voice low but firm. “Okay, listen to me. First, you did the right thing by calling for backup. Stay where you are, keep the door locked, and don’t make any noise. Do you have your weapon on you?”

“Yes,” she said quickly.

“Good,” you said. “And the officer who’s still alive—do you know if they’re in immediate danger? Can you hear or see them from where you are?”

“They’re out in the main lobby,” she replied, her voice trembling. “I can hear them—barely. They’re trying to say something, but I can’t make it out. I think they’re losing consciousness.”

Your pulse quickened as you considered the situation. This wasn’t just some urban legend or creepy caller—this was real, and someone’s life was on the line.

“Okay, Officer Park, here’s what we’re going to do,” you said, keeping your tone as calm as possible. “Do you have anything with you—first aid supplies, even a jacket—anything you can use to stabilize them if you go out there?”

“There’s a med kit in the office,” she said.

“Good. Grab it. But listen—only go out there if you’re sure it’s safe. Move quickly, quietly, and keep your weapon ready. Check the corners, and don’t let your guard down. If you hear or see anything suspicious, you come right back to the office and lock the door. Do you understand?”

There was a long pause. Then she whispered, “Okay. I’ll try.”

“Stay on the line with us,” you said, glancing at Beomgyu, who was already typing furiously on his laptop, probably trying to look up news reports or police scanner updates. “We’re not going anywhere.”

You could hear her moving, her breathing shaky but determined as she whispered, “I’m opening the door.”

Your own breath hitched as you listened to the faint creak of a door opening on her end.

“I don’t hear anything,” she said softly. “I’m stepping out now.”

The seconds dragged on like hours as you listened to her footsteps, the faint hum of fluorescent lights buzzing in the background.

“I see him,” she whispered. “He’s—oh, God, he’s bleeding so much. I’m going to try to stop it.”

You could hear her fumbling with the med kit, her voice barely audible as she muttered, “Stay with me, okay? Stay with me. Help is on the way.”

Your pulse pounded as Officer Park’s frantic movements came through the line. You forced yourself to keep your voice steady, trying to calm both her and yourself.

"Officer Park," you said firmly, leaning closer to the mic. "Listen to me. You need to arm yourself before doing anything else. Do you have access to any weapons right now?"

She hesitated for a moment, her breathing quick. "There’s a weapons locker in the office, but the keys are… they’re on one of the officers."

“Okay. You need to get those keys from the officer who…” You paused, forcing yourself to stay calm. “The officer who’s gone. You’ll need them if you’re going to get out of there alive. And when backup arrives, they’ll need you armed.”

“I already told you,” she whispered sharply. “Backup isn’t coming anytime soon. This is a small town. The nearest station is in the next county over—at least five hours away.”

The weight of her words settled like a stone in your chest. “Then you need to leave now,” you said. “You’ll have to meet them halfway, but you can’t just stay there. Take the surviving officer and get out of the station. Use the police cruiser. Are the keys to the car with the officers too?”

“Probably,” she said, voice shaking.

“Then get them,” you urged. “Check the pockets of the officer who…” You hesitated again, but there wasn’t time for gentleness. “Who’s already gone.”

There was a long pause, followed by a shaky exhale. “Okay,” she whispered. “I’ll do it.”

You could hear her moving again, her footsteps echoing faintly. Then, muffled rustling as she moved the officer’s body.

“I’ve got them,” she said after a moment, her voice tight. “The car keys. And…” She paused, the sound of a locker creaking open coming through the line. “Weapons. I’ve got pepper spray, a taser, and a baton. Which one should I take?”

You exchanged a glance with Beomgyu, who shrugged helplessly. “The taser,” you said decisively. “It’s your best option for close combat if the killer comes back. You’ll still have the element of surprise.”

“Alright,” she said, her voice steadier now. “I’m taking the taser. And the med kit. I’m going to try to move Officer Kim to the car.”

“Be careful,” you said, your voice soft but firm. “Check your surroundings constantly. Keep the taser in your hand. And whatever you do, stay quiet.”

You listened in tense silence as she dragged the injured officer toward the car, her breaths labored but determined. The sound of a car door opening reached your ears, followed by the faint groans of the wounded officer being carefully placed in the back seat.

“I’ve got him in the car,” Officer Park said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m about to start it.”

“Good,” you said. “Start it quietly and get out of there as fast as you can.”

But just as the engine sputtered to life, a haunting whistle cut through the air, sending a shiver down your spine. It was distant but unmistakable—low and drawn out, carrying an almost mocking tone.

“Oh, God,” she whispered, panic creeping back into her voice. “They’re here. The killer’s here.”

You leaned forward, gripping the edge of the desk. “Stay calm,” you said. “Lock the doors. Don’t move until you know it’s safe. If they come close, use the taser.”

Through the line, you heard faint footsteps and the sound of shouts—angry, guttural, and close. Then a scuffle broke out.

“They’re trying to break into the car!” Officer Park shouted, her voice shaking with fear and adrenaline.

“Use the taser!” you yelled. “Now!”

There was a loud crackling sound, followed by a strangled scream.

“It worked!” she cried out, her voice bursting with relief. “The taser worked! They’re down!”

A second later, the engine roared to life, and the sound of the car speeding away filled the line.

“Are you okay?” you asked breathlessly.

“I’m okay,” she said, her voice shaking but determined. “We’re leaving. I’m heading to the next town over to meet the backup units. It’s about five hours from here—less if I push it.”

“Good,” you said, exhaling slowly. “Just stay safe and focus on the road.”

“One more thing,” she added, her tone suddenly serious. “The emergency police line—it’s been rerouted to you. I couldn’t risk leaving the station unattended, so if anyone in town calls for help, it’ll go to your line instead.”

You froze, glancing at Beomgyu, who stared back at you with wide eyes.

“Wait,” you said, your stomach sinking. “What are we supposed to do if the killer targets someone else?”

“You’re going to have to help them,” she said grimly. “Until we can get backup to the town, you’re the only ones who can.”

The line went dead, leaving you and Beomgyu sitting in stunned silence, the weight of her words settling over you like a storm cloud.

“Uh… what the hell just happened?” Beomgyu finally said, his voice cracking slightly.

You didn’t answer, your mind racing as you stared at the blinking lights on the phone.

Somewhere out there, the killer was still on the loose. And now, the entire town was counting on you.

After a while the familiar ring of the phone jolted you from your thoughts, the sudden sound piercing the tense silence that had settled in the booth. Beomgyu’s voice crackled through your headphones.

“Line three,” he said.

You nodded to Beomgyu, signaling for him to patch it through.

“You’re on the air,” you said, adjusting your mic.

“I—oh, no, no, I think I called the wrong number,” a woman stammered, her voice trembling. “I was trying to call the police. There’s—there’s someone after me.”

Your heart sank as you exchanged a quick glance with Beomgyu through the glass. “You didn’t call the wrong number,” you explained quickly. “The emergency line is being rerouted to us temporarily. But you’re not alone—we’re here to help. Just tell us where you are and what’s happening.”

The woman hesitated for a moment, her breath audible over the line. “I just left the gym. I’m trying to get to my car, but there’s this… man. He’s following me. He has a knife, I’m sure of it.”

A faint whistle echoed in the background of the call, making the hairs on your arms stand on end. The woman gasped, her voice rising in panic.

“Oh, God,” she whispered. “I should’ve stayed home. Why didn’t I stay home?”

You leaned forward, gripping the edge of the desk tightly. “Listen to me,” you said, keeping your voice calm and steady despite the anxiety bubbling in your chest. “Don’t stop. Keep moving toward your car. You can do this.”

“I’m scared,” she admitted, her voice breaking.

“I know,” you said softly. “But you’re doing great. Just keep going. Focus on your breathing and keep moving. We’re not going anywhere—we’ve got you.”

The sound of her hurried footsteps came through the line, along with her ragged breathing.

“I see my car,” she said, relief creeping into her voice. “I’m almost there.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. “Good. Get in and lock the doors immediately. Don’t worry about starting it until you’re inside and safe.”

A moment later, there was the faint sound of a car door opening and slamming shut.

“I made it,” she said, exhaling shakily. “I’m in.”

“Great job,” you said, feeling a small surge of relief. “Now start the car and drive somewhere safe—”

“Oh, no,” she interrupted, her voice rising in panic again. “No, no, no! I—I forgot my keys. They’re still in the gym!”

Your stomach dropped.

Beomgyu’s voice came through your headphones before you could respond. “Wait,” he said, leaning closer to his mic. “One guy—one who works here. I’ve seen him reading magazines about car maintenance in the breakroom. He might’ve had something about starting a car without keys.”

You blinked at him, hope flickering. “Are you sure?”

“Positive,” Beomgyu said. “I saw him reading one earlier this week.”

You muted the line to the woman briefly, turning back to Beomgyu. “Where did he leave it?”

“Probably in his office,” Beomgyu said with a shrug. “You’ll have to look for it.”

With a deep breath, you stood up. “Keep her talking. Keep her calm until I get back,” you said, pulling off your headphones.

Beomgyu gave you a thumbs up as you left the booth, closing the door behind you.

You made your way toward the offices, your footsteps echoing softly on the tiled floor. The darkened corridors seemed to stretch endlessly, but you finally reached the office. The door creaked as you pushed it open.

The room was cluttered, papers and other stuff scattered across the desks. You rifled through the mess, searching for the magazine Beomgyu had mentioned, but it was nowhere to be found.

Sighing, you were about to give up when a folded piece of paper caught your eye on the desk. Curious, you unfolded it.

Borrowed the car magazine for some light reading. Left it in the bathroom. -J

You frowned, squinting at the note. The bathroom? Of course.

Taking a deep breath, you headed toward the men’s bathroom, the unease in your chest growing with each step. Standing outside the door, you hesitated for a moment before pushing it open.

The air inside was still, the lights flickering slightly. You scanned the room, your eyes landing on the floor of one of the stalls. Sure enough, there it was—a magazine, its glossy cover faintly reflecting the dim light.

Bracing yourself, you stepped into the stall and grabbed it. Clutching the magazine, you made your way back to the booth as quickly as possible, the tension in your chest finally easing as the familiar glow of the studio came into view.

Sliding back into your seat, you slipped on your headphones. “Got it,” you said, flipping through the pages.

“About time,” Beomgyu muttered, relief in his voice. “She’s still in the car. Freaking out, but holding it together.”

“Alright,” you said, scanning the pages for anything useful. “Let’s get her out of there.”

You flipped quickly through the magazine, scanning each page for something useful. Beomgyu, still connected to the call, was murmuring reassurances to the woman, keeping her calm as best as he could. Finally, near the back of the magazine, you spotted a section titled: “How to Start a Car Without Keys—In Emergencies Only!”

Bingo.

You unmuted the call, speaking quickly. “Okay, I’ve got instructions here. It’s a little complicated, but we’re going to get you out of there. Are you ready to listen?”

“Y-yeah,” she stammered, her voice shaking. “Please, just tell me what to do.”

“Alright. First, do you see the steering column? You’ll need to take off the plastic cover underneath it.”

“The plastic cover?” she repeated, her voice filled with uncertainty.

“Yes. There should be a seam where it comes apart. Can you find it?”

There was a rustling sound, followed by a faint click. “I—I see it. I think I can pry it open.”

“Good. Use anything sharp—a nail file, a keychain, anything to pop it off,” you instructed.

A few tense seconds passed, the sound of fumbling and grunting filling the line.

“Got it!” she said suddenly. “It’s off.”

“Perfect. Now, you should see some wires underneath,” you continued, flipping the magazine around to get a better look at the diagram. “There will be three sets: power, ignition, and ground. Look for the ones connected to the ignition—they’re usually red and yellow. Do you see them?”

“Wait… yes, yes, I see them!” she said, her breathing slightly more controlled now.

“Okay, here’s the tricky part,” you said carefully. “You need to strip the ends of the ignition wires—just the plastic coating—so the metal is exposed. Do you have anything sharp, like a knife or scissors?”

“Uh… I have a nail file,” she said after a moment.

“That works. Carefully scrape the plastic off, but don’t cut the wires. Just expose the metal underneath. Take your time.”

The sound of her scraping at the wires filled the silence, and you exchanged a nervous glance with Beomgyu, who gave you a reassuring nod.

“Alright,” she said finally. “I’ve got the wires stripped. What now?”

“Good. Now you’re going to twist the exposed ends of the ignition wires together. That should create a spark to start the car. But be ready—the second it starts, drive away. Don’t wait around.”

“Okay,” she whispered. “I’m doing it now.”

There was a faint crackling sound, followed by a sputtering noise. Then, suddenly, the low rumble of an engine filled the line.

“It worked!” she cried, her voice breaking with relief. “It actually worked!”

“Great job!” you said, unable to stop the smile forming on your face. “Now get out of there. Drive somewhere safe—somewhere well-lit with other people around. Don’t stop until you’re absolutely sure you’re safe.”

You could hear the roar of the car accelerating, the relief in her voice evident as she spoke. “I’m driving now. Oh, my God, thank you. Thank you so much.”

“You’re doing great,” you said, your own voice shaking slightly from the adrenaline. “Just focus on the road. Call us back if anything happens, okay?”

“Okay. I will,” she said. “Thank you again. I—I think I might’ve been dead if it weren’t for you.”

“Just keep driving,” you said softly. “That’s all that matters now.”

The line clicked off, leaving you and Beomgyu alone in the booth. For a moment, the two of you sat in silence.

Beomgyu let out a low whistle. “I can’t believe that actually worked.”

“Me neither,” you admitted, tossing the magazine onto the desk. “But if it hadn’t… I don’t even want to think about it.”

Beomgyu leaned back in his chair, exhaling deeply. “So… what do we do if someone else calls?”

You didn’t have an answer, your thoughts already spiraling with what-ifs. All you could do was hope the rest of the night stayed quiet.

The phone rang again, its shrill tone cutting through the uneasy silence that had settled in the booth. You adjusted your mic and nodded to Beomgyu. He patched it through with a flick of a switch, signaling with his finger for you to go ahead.

“You’re on the air,” you said, your voice steady despite the lingering tension from the last call.

“Hey, yeah, uh, is this the emergency line?” a cheery voice on the other end asked.

“Yes, this is the emergency line. What’s your situation?” you asked, leaning forward, bracing yourself for whatever this might be.

“Well,” the man began, his tone casual, “I just wanted to let everyone know that Hanseung’s Pizza is open late tonight, and we’re offering a two-for-one deal on our large pepperoni pies!”

You froze, your hand gripping the edge of the desk. “Are you serious right now?”

“Totally serious! Best pizza in town!”

You groaned audibly and disconnected the call before the man could say another word. Leaning back in your chair, you rubbed your temples as Beomgyu snorted with laughter.

When you glanced at him through the glass, he made a circular gesture next to his temple, miming crazy.

“I swear,” you muttered, pulling your headphones off briefly, “this night is going to kill me.”

Beomgyu gave you a lopsided grin, but before he could say anything, the phone rang again.

“Here we go,” he said, flipping the switch to route the call to you.

You sighed, sliding your headphones back on. “You’re on the air,” you said cautiously.

“H-hello?” a man’s voice came through, low and shaky.

“This is the emergency line,” you said gently. “What’s going on?”

“I—I’m still at work,” the man said, his words trembling as he spoke. “I stayed late to finish up inventory, and I… I saw someone on the cameras. He’s outside. He’s wearing a white mask, and he’s holding a knife. He’s on the first floor now.”

Your heart sank as a chill ran down your spine. “Okay, stay calm,” you said quickly. “Where are you right now?”

“I’m on the second floor,” he said. “In the main office. But… but there’s nowhere to hide. The only room I can lock is the storage closet, and the lock is on the outside. What do I do?”

You frowned, running a hand through your hair as you exchanged a tense glance with Beomgyu. “Alright, listen to me. We’re going to figure this out. Let’s think through this carefully.”

“I don’t have much time,” the man whispered, panic rising in his voice. “He’s coming in. I can see him on the camera feed.”

You flipped through options in your mind, trying to think of anything that could give him a chance. The storage room could work, but locking it from the outside meant he’d be trapping himself unless…

“Wait,” you said suddenly. “Does your office phone system let you call internal lines? Like phones in other rooms?”

“Yes,” the man said quickly. “I can call any phone in the building from here.”

“Perfect,” you said, sitting up straighter. “Here’s the plan. We’re going to distract him. You’re going to call one of the phones on the first floor, and when it rings, he’ll go to investigate. Once he’s distracted, you’re going to quietly make your way down the back staircase and get out of the building. Got it?”

“Okay, okay,” the man said, his breathing quick and shallow. “I can do that. I think.”

“You can do this,” you said firmly. “Now, do you know which phone to call?”

“Yes,” he said. “The one by the front desk. It’s closest to where he is.”

“Good. Call it now,” you instructed. “Once it starts ringing, wait a few seconds to make sure he’s moving toward it. Then make your way out. Go as quietly as you can. Don’t hang up until you’re outside and safe, alright?”

“Okay,” he whispered.

There was a pause as you heard him pressing buttons on the phone. A few seconds later, the faint sound of a phone ringing echoed faintly through his line.

“He’s moving,” the man whispered. “I can see him on the camera. He’s going to the front desk.”

“Perfect,” you said, keeping your voice calm. “Now’s your chance. Go.”

The sound of his shaky breathing filled the line as he moved. You held your breath, listening intently as he made his way down the stairs.

“He’s still at the desk,” the man whispered. “I’m almost at the back door.”

“Keep going,” you urged. “You’re doing great.”

A faint creak came through the line, followed by a quiet click.

“I’m outside,” the man said, his voice trembling with relief. “I’m out.”

You exhaled, the tension in your chest loosening slightly. “Good. Get as far away from the building as you can. Get somewhere safe with other people around.”

“Thank you,” he said, his voice breaking. “Thank you so much.”

“Just stay safe,” you said softly. “That’s all that matters.”

The line disconnected, leaving you staring at the phone for a moment, your mind racing with the implications of what had just happened.

Beomgyu leaned back in his chair, letting out a low whistle. “That’s two lives saved tonight,” he said. “Not bad for a couple of radio hosts, huh?”

You gave him a shaky smile, but the thought lingering in your mind was anything but reassuring.

Whoever was out there wasn’t done yet.

The phone rang again. For a moment, you and Beomgyu exchanged wary glances through the glass between your booths. After everything tonight, you’d learned to expect the worst. With a deep breath, you answered.

“You’re on the air,” you said, trying to maintain your composure.

“Bravo,” a smooth, amused voice purred on the other end. “Really. I’m impressed.”

Your brow furrowed. “Excuse me?”

“The way you’ve been handling these calls tonight,” the man continued, his tone dripping with mock admiration. “Guiding these poor, helpless souls to safety. It’s been a pleasure to listen to. You’re very clever, you know that?”

Something about his voice set you on edge—it wasn’t rushed or panicked like the others you’d spoken to tonight. It was calm. Too calm.

“Who is this?” you asked, your voice tightening.

“Let’s just say I’m… someone who’s been keeping an eye on things,” he replied, his tone playful. “And I have to admit, you’ve made my night much more entertaining than I anticipated.”

Your stomach twisted as realization hit you like a punch to the gut. “It’s you,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

A low chuckle came through the line, and it sent a shiver down your spine. “Took you long enough,” he said, his voice laced with mockery. “Yes, it’s me. The one you’ve been so desperately trying to outsmart all night. And I have to say, you’ve done quite well.”

You clenched your jaw, gripping the edge of the desk so tightly your knuckles turned white. “Why are you calling?”

“To see you squirm,” he teased. “And to thank you, of course. You’ve made this little game so much more fun than I thought it would be. Honestly, you’re much more entertaining than the usual people around here. They’re so… predictable.”

You refused to let him get under your skin, even as his voice sent an unbidden flush to your cheeks. You hated the way his words made your pulse quicken, a reaction you absolutely didn’t want to have.

“Is that all this is to you? A game?” you snapped, trying to focus on your anger rather than the unsettling heat rising in your face.

“Of course it’s a game,” he said smoothly. “But don’t misunderstand me—I’m not underestimating you. In fact, I think you’re the most interesting piece on the board. I wonder… how long can you keep this up? How long before I catch you slipping?”

Your cheeks burned, and you quickly forced yourself to focus. You couldn’t let him distract you with his taunting, no matter how strangely… confident and alluring his voice sounded. You hadn’t thought about dating or men since moving to the town—your life had been far too busy. And now here you were, getting flustered by the very man terrorizing the town.

“Do you have anything better to do than terrorize people?” you shot back, your voice sharper than you intended.

He chuckled again, low and lazy, like you’d just amused him. “You’re cute when you’re mad,” he said, and you nearly choked on your own breath.

“Excuse me?!”

“Oh, don’t get so defensive,” he said, clearly enjoying himself. “I’m just saying, it’s refreshing. I like a bit of fire in my conversations. The others? They just scream and cry. Boring. But not you. I like that.”

Your grip on the desk tightened further, your mind racing. You couldn’t let him get to you, but the way he spoke—like he was in complete control, like he knew exactly how to unnerve you—it was maddening.

“What do you want?” you asked finally, forcing your voice to stay calm.

“For now? Just to chat,” he said casually. “I thought you deserved some recognition for your efforts. And maybe a little warning…”

Your stomach churned. “A warning?”

“Mhm,” he murmured. “You’re clever, but don’t think you’re untouchable. I’ve been generous so far, letting you play the hero. But don’t get too comfortable. I’m always watching, and if you’re not careful, this little game of ours might get a whole lot more personal.”

Your heart hammered in your chest, but you refused to let your fear show. “Is that supposed to scare me?”

“No,” he said simply. “It’s supposed to excite you.”

The line went dead before you could respond, leaving you staring at the phone, your mind a chaotic mess of fear, anger, and, much to your dismay, something else you didn’t want to name.

Beomgyu’s voice crackled through your headset. “Uh… what the hell just happened?”

You turned to look at him, your face still flushed. “I think the killer just… flirted with me?”

Beomgyu blinked, his mouth falling open slightly before he shook his head. “This town is actually so messed up.”

You couldn’t help but agree.

The phone rang again, piercing through the tense silence that had settled in the booth. You and Beomgyu exchanged a glance, both of you bracing yourselves for whatever might come next. You adjusted your headphones and gestured for him to patch it through.

“You’re on the air,” you said, your voice steady despite the unease crawling up your spine.

“H-he’s coming,” a woman’s voice stammered, her tone high-pitched and frantic. “Oh God, the dead—they’ve risen! The dead are rising!”

You froze, caught off guard by the sheer hysteria in her voice. “Ma’am, I need you to take a deep breath and tell me what’s happening,” you said, keeping your tone calm and firm. “Who’s coming? What do you mean the dead are rising?”

“It’s karma,” she said, her words tumbling out in a panicked rush. “I’ve done bad things. So many bad things. And now he’s coming for me."

“Okay, I need you to slow down,” you urged, sitting forward in your chair. “Where are you right now? Are you safe?”

“I thought I was,” she whimpered, her voice breaking. “But he’s here. He’s come back. They know what I’ve done. He knows—”

The line went dead.

“Hello? Ma’am?” you said quickly, checking the call screen. You tried dialing the number back, your heart pounding, but the line just rang and rang before going to voicemail.

Beomgyu leaned forward in his booth, frowning as he studied the call log. “That was Dr. Lee,” he said, his voice low.

“Dr. Lee?” you asked, your mind racing.

“She’s one of the town’s doctors,” Beomgyu explained, crossing his arms. “Well… was a doctor. She retired a couple of years ago, but she still gets called in sometimes when the clinic’s short-staffed. People around here have… mixed feelings about her. Some say she’s a great doctor, but others think she’s shady. There’ve been rumors, but nothing ever proven.”

You sat back in your chair, your mind swirling with questions. “She kept saying ‘karma.’ And something about the dead coming for her.”

Beomgyu shrugged, though his expression was uneasy. “She sounded genuinely freaked out.”

“She did,” you muttered, staring at the dead call screen on your monitor. “And she didn’t give me anything to go on. No location, no details… I don’t even know if she’s still alive.”

Beomgyu leaned back in his chair, spinning a pen between his fingers. “Think we should call the clinic? Maybe someone there knows what’s going on.”

You shook your head, though the idea was tempting. “If she wanted their help, she would’ve called them instead of us. I think… I think whatever’s happening, she doesn’t trust anyone in town. Or maybe she thought calling the emergency line was her only option.”

“Well, what do we do now?” Beomgyu asked, though his tone suggested he already knew the answer.

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “There’s not much we can do. She didn’t give us enough information to help. All we can do is wait and see if she calls back.”

Beomgyu nodded reluctantly, though his frown deepened. “Still, the whole ‘dead are rising’ thing? Sounds like someone’s cracking under pressure. Or maybe she’s just paranoid.”

“Maybe,” you said, though her words kept echoing in your mind. The dead have risen. Karma is coming for me.

It sounded ridiculous, but the sheer terror in her voice had felt real. And in this town, you’d already learned to expect the unexpected.

You leaned back in your chair, staring as a heavy silence settled over the room. You hated this helpless feeling, this sense that something was happening just out of your reach. But until she called back—or someone else did—there was nothing you could do except wait.

And worry.

The phone rang again, and you didn’t hesitate to answer this time, though the tension from the earlier calls still lingered in the air like a bad omen.

“You’re on the air,” you said, trying to sound calm and professional, though the weight of the night was starting to press down on you.

“H-hello?” a young voice stammered. “Is this… is this the emergency line?”

“Yes, it is,” you replied quickly. “Who am I speaking to?”

“Hyein,” she answered, her voice trembling. “I—I need help. Someone’s after me and my friends.”

Your stomach dropped. “Where are you, Hyein? Are you somewhere safe?”

“We’re at… we’re at this old junkyard,” she said, her words tumbling out in a rush. “We were just hanging out, but now there’s this guy—he’s wearing a white mask, and—”

“Okay, Hyein, listen to me,” you interrupted, keeping your voice steady. “You need to find somewhere safe. Is there a place you can hide? A building, a car, anything?”

“Um, there’s a shed,” she said, her voice shaky. “But—”

Suddenly, a piercing scream erupted through the line, making your heart lurch.

“Hyein? Hyein, what’s happening?”

There was a muffled commotion on the other end, followed by… laughter?

A new voice chimed in, a boy’s voice, cracking as he burst into fits of giggles. “Oh my God, you should’ve seen your face, Hyein!”

“What the hell, Jansoon?!” Hyein shouted, her fear quickly replaced by anger. “You scared the crap out of me!”

You exhaled slowly, feeling your shoulders relax slightly. “Hyein, what’s going on?”

“It’s just Jansoon,” she said, her voice still shaking but now tinged with irritation. “He’s being an idiot, running around with a fake knife and a stupid mask. I thought—”

But before she could finish, another scream cut through the air—this one high-pitched and blood-curdling.

“Jansoon? Jansoon, stop messing around!” Hyein shouted, her voice rising in panic.

Then came the sound of something wet and grotesque—a sickening squelch, followed by the unmistakable sound of a body hitting the ground.

“Oh my God,” Hyein whispered, her voice trembling again. “Run! Everyone, run inside!”

“Hyein! Hyein, what’s happening?” you demanded, gripping the edge of the desk.

“A man,” she whispered, her breath hitching. “A man in a white mask—he just—he just killed Jansoon. He killed him!”

Your stomach churned as Beomgyu’s eyes went wide in the booth across from you.

“Hyein, listen to me,” you said quickly, trying to keep your voice steady. “You need to get somewhere safe. Stay with your friends and lock yourselves in. Keep the line open—”

“No,” she interrupted, her voice shaky but determined. “We… we’re setting up a plan. We’ll distract him so we can get away. I’ll call you back soon.”

“Hyein, wait—”

The line went dead.

You sat there for a moment, staring at the monitor as your heart hammered in your chest. Slowly, you took off your headset and set it down on the desk, letting out a shaky breath.

“Did that really just happen?” Beomgyu asked, his voice breaking the heavy silence.

“Yeah,” you muttered, leaning back in your chair. “It did.”

Beomgyu ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head. “This town is insane. First the doctor, now a group of kids in a junkyard? What’s next, a clown at a carnival?”

You couldn’t help but let out a dry, humorless laugh. “Don’t jinx it.”

He sighed, leaning back in his booth and staring at the ceiling. “This is so stressful. I mean, we’re just two people in a radio station. We’re not trained for this.”

“No, we’re not,” you agreed, rubbing your temples. “But we’re all these people have right now.”

Beomgyu nodded, though his expression was grim. “I just hope that girl and her friends make it out. That killer… he’s not messing around.”

The phone rang again, and this time, your heart jumped in anticipation. You quickly signaled to Beomgyu, who patched the call through.

“Hyein?” you asked urgently.

“It’s me,” she whispered, her voice trembling but steadier than before. “We—we’ve got a plan. We’re going to get out of here.”

You exhaled in relief but quickly focused. “Okay, what’s the plan?”

“There are four of us left,” she explained. “Minji’s going to watch him, make sure we know where he is at all times. Jaemin is going to distract him—make noise and lead him away from the van. Doyeon’s going to act as bait, keeping his attention long enough for me to grab Jansoon’s keys and get the van started.”

You felt a mix of pride and fear for these kids. “That’s… brave, Hyein. Really brave. Are you sure you can pull this off?”

“We don’t have a choice,” she replied, her voice tightening. “We can’t just wait for him to find us all. We have to do something.”

“Okay,” you said, nodding even though she couldn’t see you. “Stick to the plan. Be quick, be careful, and don’t hesitate. You can do this.”

“Thanks,” she whispered. “I’ll call you back once we’re out.”

The line disconnected, leaving you and Beomgyu in an anxious silence.

“They’re kids,” Beomgyu muttered, shaking his head. “They shouldn’t have to deal with this.”

“I know,” you said quietly, your eyes fixed on the monitor as if willing Hyein to call back with good news.

Minutes felt like hours as you waited, your mind racing with every worst-case scenario. Finally, the phone rang again.

“Hyein?” you answered quickly.

“We did it,” she said, her voice breathless but triumphant. “We did the plan. Minji kept an eye on him while Jaemin distracted him with a bunch of noise. He fell for it—totally chased after Jaemin. Then Doyeon lured him even further away, and I grabbed the keys.”

“That’s incredible,” you said, genuine admiration in your voice. “You’re all so brave.”

She let out a shaky laugh. “Yeah, well, it’s not over yet. We got the van started, but there’s a problem. The doors to the junkyard—they’re stuck. Someone has to hold them open so we can drive through.”

Your heart sank. “Who’s going to do it?”

“I volunteered,” she said quietly.

“Hyein—”

“It’s fine,” she interrupted. “I’ll be fine. I’ll call you back.”

The line went dead again, and you sat frozen, a deep dread settling over you.

Beomgyu leaned forward, his expression tight with worry. “They better not leave her behind.”

You didn’t respond, too focused on the gnawing feeling in your gut.

When the phone rang again, you answered immediately.

“Hyein?”

“I’m still here,” she said, her voice shaking. “I got the doors open, but…”

You heard her inhale sharply, and your stomach dropped.

“But what?” you asked.

“He’s here,” she whispered. “He’s right in front of me.”

Your grip tightened on the desk. “Hyein, listen to me. Don’t run. Don’t make any sudden moves. Just—just stay calm.”

She let out a choked sob. “I don’t want to die.”

“You’re not going to die,” you said firmly, though your own voice trembled. “Just keep talking to me, okay? You’re doing great.”

There was a long silence on the other end, broken only by her quiet, panicked breaths.

“Hyein?”

“He’s…” Her voice was barely audible now. “He’s walking away.”

“What?” you asked, your mind reeling.

“He just… turned around and walked off. Into the forest.”

You blinked, trying to process what she was saying. “He left you? Just like that?”

“Yes,” she whispered, her voice filled with confusion and fear. “Why? Why would he do that?”

You didn’t have an answer. None of this made sense.

“I don’t know,” you admitted finally. “But you’re alive, Hyein. That’s what matters. Get to safety. Get back to your friends.”

“Okay,” she said softly, though her voice was still trembling. “Thank you.”

When the call ended, you sat back in your chair, your mind spinning.

“What the hell was that?” Beomgyu asked, breaking the silence.

“I don’t know,” you muttered, staring at the empty screen. “But I don’t think we’ve seen the last of him.”

The clock on the wall ticked steadily, and the tension in the room hung like a heavy fog. It was 3:17 a.m. when the phone rang again, the sharp sound cutting through the oppressive silence.

You leaned forward and answered, trying to keep the fatigue out of your voice. "You’re on the air."

For a moment, there was just static and the faint sound of someone breathing. Then a male voice, low and shaky, spoke.

"This is... this is so scary," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

You straightened in your seat, your exhaustion replaced by unease. "What’s scary? Can you tell me where you are?"

"I’m at home," he said. "But I keep hearing things outside. Footsteps. Whistling. I’ve locked all the doors and windows, but it doesn’t feel like enough. This… this town isn’t supposed to be like this. It’s supposed to be quiet. Safe."

You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you. "I understand. It’s been a rough night for everyone, but you’ve done the right thing by securing your home. Stay inside. Stay quiet. Do you have anyone you can call to stay with you?"

"No," he muttered. "I live alone."

His voice broke slightly on the last word, and your chest tightened. "Okay. Listen to me. You’re not alone right now, all right? I’m here. If anything happens, you call me back immediately."

There was a long pause before he whispered, "Thanks."

Then the line went dead.

You sighed, leaning back in your chair. Beomgyu, who had been silently watching you from his booth, gave you a small nod of acknowledgment.

"You’re handling this like a pro," he said.

"I’m just trying to keep people calm," you replied, though the weight of the night was starting to press down on you.

The hours crawled by, the silence in the studio broken only by the occasional hum of equipment and the distant sound of a car passing on the street. It was around 4:30 a.m. when the phone rang again.

Your heart leapt as you quickly picked it up. "You’re on the air."

"It’s me," a familiar voice said.

"Hyein?" you asked, relief flooding your voice.

"Yeah," she said, and you could hear the exhaustion in her tone. "We made it. We’re home. All of us, safe. Thanks to you."

A smile tugged at your lips, the first genuine one of the night. "That’s great to hear, Hyein. I’m so glad you’re all okay."

"You… you really helped us," she continued, her voice soft. "I don’t think we would’ve made it without you. I mean, we were so scared, but you kept us focused. Gave us hope."

"That was all you," you replied. "You and your friends were brave. You came up with a plan and stuck to it. You saved yourselves."

There was a pause, and then she said, "Still… thank you."

"Of course," you said, your voice warm. "Now, get some rest. You’ve earned it."

"I will," she promised. "Goodnight… and be careful, okay? I don’t think this is over."

"Goodnight, Hyein," you said softly before the line went dead.

You set the phone down and leaned back in your chair, exhaling slowly. Beomgyu looked over at you, his expression a mix of relief and exhaustion.

"At least there’s some good news," he said.

"Yeah," you murmured, though Hyein’s parting words echoed in your mind.

I don’t think this is over.

And deep down, you knew she was right.

The phone rang again, cutting through the brief calm. Unknown caller. You knew who it was even before you answered.

"Let me guess," you said, trying to keep your voice steady. "You’re calling to congratulate me on something, right?"

A soft, mocking chuckle came through the line, chilling and deliberate. "You’re starting to understand how this works," the killer said, his voice smooth, almost amused. "But no congratulations this time. Just a little... advice."

You gripped the phone tighter. "And what kind of advice would that be?"

"Dr. Lee," he drawled, his tone teasing. "She seemed... stressed earlier, didn’t she? Want to know what really happened to her?"

Your breath caught, and for a moment, you didn’t know what to say.

He chuckled again. "Pick something up for me, and maybe I’ll give you a clue. Check the alleyway behind your building. I left you a little surprise."

Beomgyu immediately leaned toward his microphone, shaking his head vehemently as he heard the exchange. “Don’t do it,” he mouthed, his face pale.

But the killer wasn’t done. "Go on," he said, his tone turning low and taunting. "Be brave. Or stay in your booth and let the mystery eat away at you. Your choice."

And then the line went dead.

"Don’t even think about it," Beomgyu said, his voice cutting through the silence. "He’s baiting you. It’s a trap."

You turned to him, trying to muster some confidence. "If it’s a trap, then it’s a bad one. He wouldn’t tip his hand like this if he really wanted me dead."

"Or maybe that’s exactly what he wants you to think," Beomgyu countered. "Don’t go."

But you were already getting up. "I’ll be fine. Stay here and keep the phones running."

Beomgyu sighed, muttering something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like “you’re insane.”

You left the booth, stepping into the hallway. The silence of the empty building was oppressive, and the faint hum of the fluorescent lights above did little to calm your nerves. Descending the staircase, each step felt louder than the last, echoing in the quiet.

At the bottom, you approached the glass front doors. Outside was nothing but darkness, the alleyway barely illuminated by a single flickering streetlamp in the distance.

You tried the door. Locked.

Frowning, you turned back and made your way behind the reception desk, where the backdoor led to the alleyway. Pushing it open, the cool night air hit you immediately, carrying with it the faint scent of rain and garbage.

The alley was narrow and lined with dumpsters, shadows stretching and shifting in the dim light. You hesitated, the weight of the situation settling on your shoulders.

Then, you saw it.

An old, stained mattress lay discarded against the wall, and on top of it was something that made your stomach drop—a bloodied ID card.

Your hands trembled as you approached, the name and face on the card coming into focus. Dr. Lee.

You bent down, your breath hitching as you picked it up. The blood was dry but unmistakable, the edges of the card sticky.

You turned it over in your hands, a cold dread creeping up your spine. What did this mean? Was she—

A rustling sound.

You froze, your heart hammering in your chest. Slowly, you looked up, scanning the alleyway. There was nothing.

But past the fence, just beyond the edge of the alley, you could feel it—someone was watching you.

The air seemed to thicken, your skin prickling with unease. You couldn’t see anyone, but the presence was unmistakable.

Swallowing hard, you clenched the ID card in your hand and straightened up, forcing your legs to move. You turned and walked back toward the door, refusing to look back, even as the sensation of being watched grew stronger.

You reached for the door handle, only to find it wouldn’t budge. Locked.

“Damn it,” you muttered under your breath, shaking the handle one more time as if sheer willpower could force it open. The sensation of being watched lingered, making the hairs on your neck stand on end.

The sound of something faintly rustling outside sent a jolt of panic through you. You turned away from the door, scanning the dimly lit alley for another option. That’s when your eyes landed on the basement access door.

You cursed under your breath, knowing it was your only choice. "Great," you mumbled sarcastically, stepping toward it. Pushing the creaky door open, you descended the narrow staircase. The air grew colder with each step, the faint smell of mildew and rust wrapping around you like a damp blanket.

At the bottom, you reached a landing, the dim glow of an old overhead light flickering ominously. Shadows danced across the walls, making everything feel smaller and more claustrophobic.

Trying the first door, you found it locked. So was the next. You kept moving, your footsteps echoing faintly in the eerie silence. Finally, you reached a door that opened easily.

You stepped inside cautiously, your phone flashlight illuminating what could only be described as the janitor’s office—or, more accurately, a forgotten relic of one. The room was cramped and chaotic, filled with old supplies, broken equipment, and… mannequins?

You froze for a moment, your light catching the lifeless forms of several mannequins standing in one corner. Their chipped paint and blank expressions made your stomach twist. Who keeps mannequins in a basement office?

“Okay,” you whispered to yourself, “this is officially creepy.”

Pushing past the eerie sight, your flashlight settled on the far wall, where a corkboard hung. You stepped closer, curiosity outweighing your unease.

The board was covered in newspaper clippings, photographs, and handwritten notes. Your pulse quickened as you scanned the array of items.

The photos were of people—townsfolk, by the looks of it. Some of the faces you recognized, including Dr. Lee. Others were strangers. Some pictures had red X’s drawn across them. Others were circled.

The clippings were just as unsettling. Headlines like “Local Man Disappears Without a Trace” and “Small-Town Tragedy: Young Man Found Dead” leapt out at you, along with handwritten notes like “Knew too much” and “Still watching.”

“Jesus,” you muttered, taking a step back.

You huffed, grabbing the corkboard from the wall and tucking it under your arm. Whatever this was, it wasn’t staying down here. You needed to get it upstairs, show Beomgyu, and figure out what the hell was going on.

The mannequins seemed closer than before as you turned to leave, but you tried to shake off the unease crawling up your spine.

"Don’t think about it," you muttered, stepping back out into the hallway.

With the corkboard in tow, you made your way back toward the stairs, trying not to think about how quiet everything felt.

Back in the booth, you placed the corkboard on the desk, your fingers trembling as you leaned over it. Beomgyu hovered behind you, peering at the chaotic arrangement of photos, clippings, and notes.

"Okay," you muttered, mostly to yourself. "This is a pattern. It has to be."

Your eyes scanned the board feverishly, focusing on the photos of the townsfolk. There were three with red X’s—you recognized two as victims you’d already heard about. The doctor’s photo, Dr. Lee, was circled in red but had no X, at least not yet.

The notes were cryptic but telling: "Knew too much." "Always works late."

Your heart skipped a beat as you landed on a photo of a man you vaguely recognized from a newspaper clipping you’d seen earlier—James Choi, the owner of the general store. His picture was circled too, with a note scribbled beside it: “Stays late, alone.”

You felt your stomach churn. “Beomgyu, who’s James Choi?”

Beomgyu squinted at the board. "James? Oh, he runs that little general store by the gas station. Nice guy, kind of quiet. Why?"

You jabbed your finger at his photo. “He’s next. Look at the notes. It’s all here—he works late, and the killer knows it. We need to call him now.”

Beomgyu grabbed the phone without hesitation, quickly dialing the number written on a post-it note you’d found pinned to the corner of the board. You paced nervously as the phone rang.

"Come on, pick up," Beomgyu muttered.

Finally, a voice answered. “Hello?”

“Mr. Choi?” Beomgyu asked, his voice tight. “This is from the late-night show—listen, we don’t have much time. Are you still at the store?”

James sounded confused. “Uh, yeah? Why? What’s this about?”

You leaned in, speaking quickly. “You’re in danger. You need to leave now. Grab your keys, get in your car, and just drive. Don’t ask questions, don’t wait—just go.”

There was a pause. “Danger? What are you talking about? This some kind of prank?”

“It’s not a prank,” you snapped, your voice rising in urgency. “There’s someone—”

The sound of something crashing interrupted James on the other end of the line, followed by a low, guttural noise that made your blood run cold.

“James?” Beomgyu called, his voice cracking. “James, what’s going on?”

The line went silent for a moment, the faint sound of labored breathing coming through. And then—

“Well, well,” came a familiar, taunting voice.

Your stomach dropped as the killer’s smooth, mocking tone filled the line. “You tried,” he said, almost lazily, like he had all the time in the world. “I’ll give you credit for that. But you’re just not fast enough, are you?”

Your hands clenched into fists. “You son of a—”

“Ah-ah,” the killer interrupted, a smirk evident in his voice. “No need for name-calling. I’m just doing what I do best. And you? Well, you’re doing what you do best—sitting in that little booth, thinking you can save people. How’s that working out for you so far?”

You swallowed hard, your throat tight. “Why are you doing this?”

He laughed, the sound cold and detached. “You really think I’m going to explain myself? What kind of killer would I be if I gave away all my secrets? Let’s just say… I like keeping you on your toes. It’s fun watching you try so hard.”

Beomgyu’s face was pale, his eyes wide as he stared at the phone. “You’re sick,” he muttered under his breath.

The killer ignored him. “Oh, and one more thing,” he said, his voice dropping to a chilling whisper. “The game’s far from over.”

And then the line went dead.

You stared at the phone, your heart pounding in your chest. Beomgyu looked at you, his face etched with fear.

“What do we do now?” he asked quietly.

You took a shaky breath, your mind racing. “We keep going. We figure this out.”

Beomgyu nodded, though his hands were trembling. "And what if we can’t?"

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t.

You sat hunched over the corkboard, piecing through the clues when Beomgyu cleared his throat, his voice hesitant. "Hey, maybe you should go back to the janitor’s room. There might be something we missed."

You glanced up at him, skeptical. “Like what? I already grabbed the corkboard.”

He shrugged, fidgeting with his pen. “I don’t know. It just feels like… that place might have more to it. There’s no way someone went through all the effort of pinning up all this stuff and didn’t leave more behind.”

You sighed, rubbing your temples. He wasn’t wrong. “Fine,” you said, pushing back from the desk. “I’ll check again. Just… stay here and keep an ear on the phones.”

Beomgyu nodded quickly, relief evident on his face. “Be careful, okay?”

You didn’t bother replying as you headed back downstairs, retracing your steps. The basement was even creepier now, the flickering light above casting strange, shifting shadows along the walls. Pushing the janitor's office door open again, you stepped inside, the stale air immediately making your nose crinkle.

The mannequins were still there, standing motionless in the corner like silent sentinels. You forced yourself to ignore them, focusing instead on the cluttered room. You rummaged through drawers, boxes, and even under the dusty desk, finding nothing but old cleaning supplies and forgotten tools.

Just as you were about to give up, your fingers brushed against something cold and metallic under a pile of papers. You pulled it out—a key, small and rusted, with no label.

“Okay,” you whispered to yourself, standing up and looking around. “What do you open?”

You left the janitor’s office and started trying the key on every locked door in the hallway. It wasn’t until you reached the very last door—a heavy, steel one with a faded "Storage" sign on it—that the key finally turned.

The lock clicked, and the door creaked open, revealing a dimly lit storage room filled with shelves of old files, boxes, and equipment. You stepped inside, the smell of dust and mildew filling your nose.

Grabbing your phone for light, you began rifling through the shelves. Most of it seemed mundane—inventory lists, outdated maintenance logs, and other boring documents. But then you found a box marked “Incident Reports.”

You opened it, pulling out a stack of files. One in particular caught your eye—a report on someone named Sim Jaeyun.

You skimmed the pages, your brow furrowing as you read. According to the report, Sim Jaeyun was a young man who had been found dead in the town’s river. The official cause of death was ruled as reckless behavior, with high levels of alcohol detected in his blood.

But something didn’t add up.

You found another document tucked in the back of the file—a copy of the autopsy report, signed by none other than Dr. Lee. The details in the report were vague, almost suspiciously so. It noted the alcohol levels but didn’t mention any other significant findings.

Flipping through more of the file, you found a handwritten note from a police officer who had initially investigated the scene: “Something doesn’t feel right. Jaeyun was a good swimmer.”

Your stomach churned as you read on. The note went on to mention that Jaeyun had been arguing with someone at a local bar the night he died. The name of the person he argued with was blacked out, but whoever it was, they were never questioned.

Your mind reeled. Something about this was definitely off. Why would Dr. Lee sign off on such a suspicious autopsy? And why had no one followed up on the blacked-out name?

You gathered the files, clutching them tightly as you made your way back upstairs. Your thoughts were racing, pieces of the puzzle slowly starting to fit together.

Beomgyu looked up from his seat as you entered the booth, his eyes widening when he saw the stack of papers in your hands. “What did you find?”

You dropped the files on the desk, flipping them open. “A death report. Sim Jaeyun. Found in the river, officially ruled as reckless behavior and alcohol poisoning. But…”

“But what?” Beomgyu prompted, leaning closer.

You pointed to the autopsy report. “It doesn’t add up. Just alcohol levels that don’t make sense. And guess who signed the autopsy?”

Beomgyu’s eyes widened. “Dr. Lee?”

“Bingo,” you said grimly. “And there’s more—apparently, Jaeyun got into an argument with someone at a bar that night, but the name was blacked out in the report. Whoever it was, they were never questioned.”

Beomgyu leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. “So, what are you saying? That Jaeyun didn’t just… fall into the river drunk?”

You nodded. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. Someone’s been covering this up. And I think it ties back to everything that’s happening now.”

Beomgyu stared at the files, his face pale. “This just keeps getting worse.”

You didn’t respond, your mind already racing with what to do next.

You tapped your pen against the desk anxiously, the silence between you and Beomgyu growing heavier by the second. Finally, you broke it. “We need to talk to someone who knew Jaeyun. Someone who can tell us more about what happened that night.”

Beomgyu nodded, already pulling up the town directory on his computer. “There were names listed in some of those files,” he muttered, scrolling through the screen. “Here—Kim Jihoon. He was one of Jaeyun’s friends.”

“Call him,” you said firmly, leaning forward.

Beomgyu hesitated for a second but then grabbed the phone, dialing the number. You both waited as the line rang, the sound stretching your nerves thin.

Finally, a groggy voice answered, “Hello? Who’s this?”

“Hi, this is Beomgyu from the town’s late-night talk show,” Beomgyu began cautiously. “We’re trying to get some information about Sim Jaeyun. You were listed as one of his friends. Do you have a moment to talk?”

There was a pause on the other end before Jihoon spoke again, his voice laced with confusion. “Jaeyun? Why are you asking about him? He’s been gone for years.”

You leaned toward the mic, speaking gently but urgently. “We’re trying to piece together what really happened to him, Jihoon. There are some things about his death that don’t make sense. Can you tell us what you remember from that night?”

Another long pause. Then Jihoon let out a sigh. “I don’t know how much help I’ll be, but… sure. I’ll tell you what I can.”

You exchanged a glance with Beomgyu, who nodded for you to continue. “Okay,” you said. “Start from the beginning. What was that night like?”

“It was supposed to be a fun night,” Jihoon began, his voice tinged with sadness. “We were celebrating Jaeyun. He’d just gotten a big promotion at work, and we all went out to the bar to party. Everything was fine at first—laughing, drinking, just having a good time. But then…”

He trailed off, and you prompted him gently. “But then what?”

Jihoon sighed again. “Jaeyun got into an argument with someone. I didn’t see who it was—I was across the bar at the time, talking to someone else. But I heard voices getting louder, and when I looked over, Jaeyun was face-to-face with this guy. I couldn’t make out what they were saying, but it looked heated.”

Your grip on the pen tightened. “Did you see what the guy looked like at all? Anything about him?”

“No,” Jihoon admitted. “It was dark, and the bar was crowded. I only saw his back. But… I don’t know, there was something off about the guy. The way he was standing, the way he moved… it gave me a bad feeling.”

“What happened after that?” you asked.

“Jaeyun stormed out of the bar,” Jihoon said. “The guy followed him. I tried to go after them, but by the time I got outside, they were both gone. I looked around, called out for Jaeyun, but… nothing. It was like they’d disappeared.”

“And then?”

“The next day, I heard the news,” Jihoon said, his voice breaking slightly. “Jaeyun was found dead in the river. They said he’d been drinking and must’ve fallen in, but…”

“But you didn’t believe that,” you finished for him.

“No,” Jihoon said firmly. “Jaeyun wasn’t that kind of guy. He could hold his liquor, and he would’ve been careful. It didn’t make sense then, and it doesn’t make sense now.”

You sat back in your chair, your mind racing. Jaeyun had argued with someone—someone who followed him out of the bar. Someone who might have been responsible for his death.

Beomgyu’s voice cut through the static over the intercom, calm but clipped. “The other line’s ringing. I’ll take care of it.”

You nodded to yourself, still holding the phone to your ear. “Alright.”

Turning your attention back to Jihoon, you settled into your chair and tried to ground yourself.

“Jaeyun was just… he was the kind of guy everyone liked, you know? He always made time for people. Even when he was busy, he’d stop to check in. If you were upset about something, he’d notice—he always noticed.” Jihoon’s voice broke slightly, and you could hear him swallow hard.

You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you. “He sounds like a really good person. Someone who didn’t deserve what happened.”

“No, he didn’t,” Jihoon agreed softly. “He’d do these little things, you know? Like, one time, I forgot my wallet, and he just covered everything without even saying anything. He didn’t want people to feel bad, didn’t want anyone to feel like a burden. That was just Jaeyun.”

You found yourself smiling faintly, despite the grim topic. “He must’ve been an amazing friend to have.”

“He was,” Jihoon said, his voice thick with emotion. “Losing him… it wasn’t just hard. It was—” He paused, and you could hear him take a deep breath. “It was like losing the glue that held us all together. He was the one who brought us all into the same orbit.”

Your chest tightened as you listened, the weight of Jihoon’s words pressing down on you. Jaeyun had been more than just a name on a file or a tragic story in the town’s history. He’d been a real person, someone loved deeply by those around him.

“I’m sorry, Jihoon,” you said softly. “I wish I could’ve met him. He sounds like he left a mark on everyone he knew.”

“He did,” Jihoon whispered. “And that’s what makes it so hard to believe… what they said about him, that he was drunk and reckless. That’s not him. It never felt right to me, even back then.”

You nodded, the puzzle pieces in your mind continuing to shift and rearrange themselves. “I understand. And I think you’re right to trust your gut. There’s more to this story, and I’m trying to piece it together.”

Jihoon let out a shaky laugh. “Thanks. I don’t know why you care so much—"

The lights in the booth flickered and then abruptly went out, plunging you into darkness. You froze, the silence suddenly suffocating.

A second later, Beomgyu’s voice came over the intercom, slightly muffled but urgent. “Uh… the power just went out in the whole building. I think you’ll need to go down to the basement and reset the breaker. I’d do it, but I’m kinda stuck here monitoring the calls.”

You clicked your flashlight on, its narrow beam cutting through the pitch-black room. “Got it,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “Stay up here. I’ll be back in a minute.”

“I’ll keep an eye on everything,” Beomgyu promised, his voice a little shaky but resolute.

You stood up, your flashlight casting eerie shadows as you moved toward the booth door. The air felt colder now, heavier, as though the power outage had sucked the life out of the building.

Exiting the booth, you walked down the hall toward the staircase. Every creak of the floor beneath your feet made your stomach tighten.

The door to the basement was slightly ajar when you reached it, creaking as you pushed it open. You descended the stairs, each step echoing loudly in the stillness.

The basement smelled of damp concrete and old cardboard. The beam of your flashlight bounced across the walls, revealing cluttered shelves, dusty equipment, and the same door to the janitor's room you’d searched earlier.

Something felt... wrong.

You paused at the bottom of the stairs, your breath catching as the sensation of eyes on you. It was that prickling feeling, the kind that made the hairs on your neck stand up.

You swung the flashlight around again, the beam slicing through the shadows. Nothing. “Get it together,” you muttered under your breath.

Moving cautiously, you made your way to the breaker panel in the corner of the room. The metal door was slightly ajar, as though someone had been there recently. You frowned and reached out, pulling it open.

The switches were all flipped off. You began resetting them, flipping each one back to its original position. As the last switch clicked into place, you heard a faint sound behind you—a scuffling, like a shoe sliding against the concrete floor.

You froze.

“Hello?” you called out, your voice echoing in the stillness.

No response.

Your flashlight beam darted across the room again, settling on nothing but dusty shelves and discarded junk. The sensation of being watched was stronger than ever, the weight of unseen eyes boring into your back.

Swallowing hard, you gripped the flashlight tighter and turned back toward the stairs. “It’s just your imagination,” you told yourself. “Just nerves.”

But as you climbed the stairs, the creak of a floorboard behind you made your blood run cold. You spun around, flashlight trembling in your hand, but there was no one there.

Heart pounding, you hurried up the remaining steps and shoved the door open, stepping back into the main hall. The lights flickered back on, flooding the building with their harsh fluorescent glow.

You walked back toward the booths, your thoughts still caught on Jihoon’s words, and your pulse quickened when you noticed something strange—the door to Beomgyu’s booth was open. Beomgyu never left it open when he was working.

Curiosity and concern flared in equal measure as you stepped inside. “Beomgyu?” you called softly, but the booth was empty.

The faint smell of his cologne lingered in the air, but there was no sign of him. You frowned, glancing around, trying to spot anything out of place. The silence felt oppressive, thick, like the air itself was watching you.

Turning back toward the hallway, you froze.

A figure was walking toward you, their movements deliberate and slow, as if savoring every step. They were dressed in black, a pale white mask covering their face, and in their hand gleamed a knife.

Your heart leapt into your throat. Thinking fast, you slammed the door shut and locked it just as the figure lunged. The door rattled violently as they crashed into it, and you stumbled back, gasping, your chest heaving.

The sound of the knife scraping against the door sent shivers down your spine.

You turned, instinctively seeking safety, only to feel your stomach drop.

Someone was standing in your booth.

On the other side of the glass separating Beomgyu’s booth from yours, the killer stood, their white mask tilted ever so slightly as if they were studying you.

You stared in disbelief, your pulse pounding in your ears as the killer leaned casually against the glass. Slowly, they raised their knife and tapped the blade against the glass, the metallic tink tink tink reverberating in the confined space.

"Hey there," their distorted voice drawled, smug and taunting. “Miss me?”

You didn’t answer, too frozen by the weight of the moment.

They chuckled, the sound muffled but chilling. “C’mon, let’s make this interesting. Open the door for me. I just want to play.”

Your stomach churned, and you shook your head, your voice trembling but firm. “Where’s Beomgyu?”

The killer tilted their head, tapping the knife against the glass again. “Oh, he’s around,” they said, their tone lilting, as if they were enjoying a private joke.

Panic clawed at your insides. “What did you do to him?”

The killer leaned closer to the glass, the mask distorting their features into a sinister blur. “Why so worried? Shouldn’t you be more concerned about yourself?”

You clenched your fists, forcing yourself to hold their gaze despite the fear threatening to crush you. “What do you want?”

They leaned back slightly, tapping the glass once more, their knife dragging a slow, deliberate line down its surface. “For now? I just want to see how long you can last.”

The killer’s mask shifted slightly as he glanced toward your desk, his knife tapping idly against the glass again. “Well, well,” he said, his voice dripping with mock surprise. “You’ve been busy, haven’t you?”

You glanced at the desk, realizing he was looking at the scattered clues you’d been piecing together: the newspaper clippings, the notes, the photo of Jaeyun.

“What are you talking about?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady, though your hands were trembling at your sides.

The killer tilted his head, almost amused. “Don’t play dumb. You’ve been digging, haven’t you? Going through things you shouldn’t, asking questions. Connecting dots. You’re smarter than they gave you credit for.”

You clenched your fists, anger bubbling up beneath your fear. “Why are you doing this?” you demanded, your voice sharper now. “What’s the point of all this? Why terrorize the town? Why kill all these people?”

The killer let out a low, humorless laugh, the sound muffled behind his mask. “You really don’t get it, do you?”

You glared at him, heart pounding. “Then explain it. Make me understand.”

The killer stood straighter, the playful tilt of his head replaced with something colder, darker. His voice dropped, the teasing edge gone. “This isn’t random. This isn’t chaos for the sake of chaos. This is revenge.”

You froze. “Revenge? For what?”

“For Jaeyun,” he said simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “For what happened to him. For what they did to his life.”

Your breath caught, the weight of his words settling over you like a heavy blanket. “You’re doing all of this… because of Jaeyun?”

The killer nodded slowly. “He didn’t deserve what happened to him. He didn’t deserve to die the way he did. Alone. Cast aside. Written off as a reckless drunk when everyone knew that wasn’t who he was.”

You swallowed hard, the pieces clicking together in your mind. “You… you think someone in this town killed him. Don’t you?”

The killer laughed again, but this time it was bitter, full of venom. “Think? Oh, no. I don’t think. I know.”

Your pulse raced as you stared at him, trying to make sense of it all. “Then why target the town? Why not just go after the person responsible?”

The killer leaned closer to the glass, his voice low and menacing. “Because they all played a part. They turned a blind eye. They lied. They covered it up. And now? They’re going to pay.”

You shook your head, panic and disbelief swirling in your chest. “This isn’t justice. This is—this is insanity!”

“Call it whatever you want,” the killer said, stepping back slightly, his knife still glinting in his hand. “But by the time I’m done, everyone will know the truth. And Jaeyun will finally get the justice he deserves.”

You stared at him through the glass, trying to piece everything together. “What connects you to Jaeyun?” you asked, your voice shaking slightly. “Why are you doing this in his name? What was he to you?”

The killer chuckled darkly, the sound vibrating through the air like a warning. “Oh, come on,” he said, tilting his head mockingly. “You’ve been working so hard. And yet you haven’t figured it out?”

You frowned, frustration mounting. “Stop playing games and just tell me!”

Before you could say anything else, he suddenly stopped pacing, his hand reaching up to the edge of his mask. “You want answers?” he asked, his tone laced with something dangerous. “Then pay attention.”

Your heart thundered in your chest as his fingers gripped the mask. Slowly, he pulled it off, revealing the face underneath.

Your breath caught in your throat. “No,” you whispered, stumbling back a step. “That’s not possible…”

It was Jaeyun.

His face was unmistakable, though there was something different now—harsher. His features were gaunter, his eyes darker, filled with a cold fire that sent a chill down your spine.

“But—you’re dead,” you stammered, shaking your head in disbelief. “They said you were dead. I saw the reports.”

A grim smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “Dead?” he echoed, his voice dripping with venom. “I was supposed to be. The man who killed me certainly thought I was.”

“Then how are you alive?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper.

He stepped closer to the glass, his expression hard. “Sheer will,” he said, his tone icy. “I wasn’t supposed to survive that night. But I did. Barely. They threw me in the river, thinking they’d silenced me for good. But they didn’t count on me crawling out, broken, bleeding, but alive.”

Your stomach churned as you processed his words. “Who did this to you?”

Jaeyun’s jaw clenched, and his eyes burned with rage. “The man who killed me is now the town’s mayor,” he spat, his voice thick with hatred. “That promotion was supposed to be mine. I earned it. But he couldn’t stand the idea of me taking what he thought was his. So he decided to remove the competition—permanently.”

Your breath hitched. “They covered it up,” you murmured, the realization hitting you like a punch to the gut.

“Of course they did,” Jaeyun sneered. “They spun a pretty little story. Made me out to be reckless, irresponsible. A drunk who couldn’t handle himself. And everyone believed it.”

“And no one knew you were alive?” you asked, your voice trembling.

He shook his head, his expression cold. “Not a soul. They all thought they were free of me. That their secret was safe.” He leaned closer to the glass, his voice dropping to a deadly whisper. “But I’ve been watching. Waiting. And now, I’m back.”

You stared at him, your mind racing. “You’re doing all of this… to get revenge?”

Jaeyun smiled, but there was no warmth in it. “Revenge? Justice? Call it whatever you want. But this town took everything from me. My life. My future. And now, I’m going to take everything from them.”

You swallowed hard, your pulse pounding in your ears. “This isn’t justice, Jaeyun. This is—this is murder.”

“They murdered me first,” he snapped, his voice sharp as a blade. “They thought they could bury me and move on. But they were wrong. And now, they’re going to pay.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came. All you could do was stare at the man in front of you—the man who had risen from the dead, consumed by a need for vengeance.

Jaeyun’s gaze stayed locked on yours, his lips curving into a sly smile. He leaned against the glass, tapping his knife against it rhythmically, the sound unnerving in the silence. “Come on,” he murmured, his tone low and coaxing. “Open the door. Let’s talk properly. Face to face.”

Jaeyun’s smile faltered, his eyes narrowing as you stood your ground. He straightened, stepping closer to the glass, and his voice dropped into a darker, more threatening tone. “You think you're safe in there?” He tapped the knife against the glass again, this time with more force, his breath coming faster as his frustration grew. “You really think you can stop me by just hiding?”

When you didn’t respond, he slammed his fist against the glass with a deafening crack. The force rattled the walls, sending a shiver down your spine. He glared at you, his chest heaving, rage and amusement mixed in his expression. “You’re making this harder than it needs to be. Open the damn door.”

You stiffened, gripping the edge of the desk in front of you as if it could anchor you. “Why would I do that?” you asked, your voice sharper than you felt. “So you can kill me too? No thanks.”

His smile didn’t falter, but his eyes glinted with something almost playful. “Kill you?” he said, feigning offense. “Why would I do that? You’re the only one who’s actually listened to me. The only one who’s tried to understand.”

“Forgive me if I don’t find that comforting,” you shot back, but your voice wavered slightly.

He tilted his head, the knife pausing mid-tap. “You’re scared,” he observed, his voice soft, almost gentle. “But you don’t have to be. I’m not your enemy.”

“Not my enemy?” you echoed, incredulous. “You’ve been terrorizing this town for days. You killed people, Jaeyun.”

“They deserved it,” he said flatly, the warmth in his tone vanishing. “Every single one of them was complicit. They lied. They covered it up. They let him get away with it.”

“And Beomgyu?” you demanded, anger rising in your chest. “What did he ever do to you?”

Jaeyun hesitated, his smile faltering for a fraction of a second. “Collateral damage,” he said eventually, his tone colder now. “I don’t expect you to understand.”

“You’re right,” you said, your voice firm despite the fear twisting in your gut. “I don’t. Because what you’re doing isn’t justice—it’s just more bloodshed.”

His expression darkened, but then he sighed, as if trying to calm himself. He stepped back from the glass slightly, sheathing the knife at his side. “You’re different,” he said after a moment, his tone soft again. “You’ve got a brain. You’ve been piecing this together all night. You know I’m not lying about what happened to me. So why not help me? Why not open the door and join me?”

You stared at him, stunned. “Join you?”

He nodded, his expression earnest. “You said it yourself—this isn’t justice. But maybe you could help me make it right. Maybe you could keep me… grounded.”

“You’re insane,” you whispered, shaking your head.

“Am I?” he countered, stepping closer to the glass again. “Or am I the only one who’s willing to do what it takes? Think about it—you’ve seen what this town is like. Corrupt, rotten to its core. You’ve been digging up its secrets all night. Do you really think anyone else is going to pay for what they’ve done?”

You hesitated, his words stirring something in you. The town was corrupt. The mayor had gotten away with murder. And Jaeyun… as twisted as his methods were, he wasn’t entirely wrong.

Seeing your hesitation, his smile returned, wider now. “That’s it,” he said softly, his voice almost soothing. “You’re starting to see it, aren’t you? This town doesn’t deserve your loyalty. They’ll betray you the first chance they get. But I won’t. You and me, we could fix this. Together.”

Your grip on the desk tightened, your knuckles white. “No,” you said finally, your voice shaking but resolute. “I’m not opening that door. I’m not like you.”

Jaeyun’s expression shifted, his smile fading. “Pity,” he murmured, his tone more disappointed than angry. “You would’ve made a good ally.”

He turned his back to you, walking toward the door to your booth. But before he left, he glanced over his shoulder, a dark smile curling his lips again. “I’ll be seeing you soon,” he said softly. “One way or another.”

And with that, he was gone, leaving you trembling in the eerie silence of the room.

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ggidolsmuts · 23 hours ago

Text

Single's Inferno - ARTMS Choerry

"Hey man, you ready to get the pants scared off you?"

"Sure sure, where are the others?"

"There they are!" You join your group of friends—it was right before Halloween, and they wanted to get the full experience and go through a haunted house attraction. Begrudgingly you agreed—you're not the fondest of jump scares.

"Yah, where's your date?" One of them asks.

"Date?"

"Yeah, it's a good opportunity to get to know someone, having a joint experience."

"How would I get to know someone in the dark when we're going to be screaming?"

"Look at Mr. Scaredy Cat here, I see why you didn't want to bring someone now," your buddy teases.

"Yeah fuck you, be glad I showed up. Let's just go in." Your group gathers at the entrance of the house, and a usher calls out.

"Okay guys how we doing tonight? For the best experience for everyone, you should be paired up with a friend, so pair off as needed and we'll let you in two-by-two, okay?" To your horror, your friends have basically paired off already—they came with their girlfriends, or brought their own dates. You would be going into the haunted house alone!

You would be going into the haunted house alone... Fuck, rather than being scared you're more sad than anything.

"Hey guys—" Before you know it your friends are already in line, every pair already locking arms. Some friends, hmph. You steel yourself and join the line, trudging along solo. You're on your phone when you hear a bright voice next to you.

"Hi! Are you going in alone?"

"Yes." From her tone you assumed it was an overly enthusiastic employee, but no.

"Can I pair up with you then?" You turn to look at your speaker—she's dressed simply in a fluffy sweater and jeans, but her smile is absolutely radiant, her eyes round and hopeful.

"Y-You want to go in with me?" You wouldn't say no of course, but she's way out of your league, and you had to double check.

"Mmhmm, is that okay?" You nod and she slides in right next to you—more than that, she slips her arm between yours. "Thanks, I'm Choerry!"

"Nice to meet you Choerry, you came to this alone?"

"No, but my unnies are all with their boyfriends, so they kinda just left me alone." She pouts cutely.

"Really? Same here, my friends ditched me for their dates too." You shake your head and Choerry laughs.

"That's great, let's ditch them then!"

"Sure!" Her enthusiasm is infectious. But as you get closer to the entrance, Choerry's hugging you tighter and tighter.

"To be honest, I don't like scary things, I might be loud, sorry."

"Why come then? You don't have to do this."

"No the unnies will make fun of me!"

"If you say so. To be honest, I don't like scary things either, hate jump scares."

"I can tell."

"What? How?" You're a little indignant, how did Choerry already chalk you down as a scaredy cat?

"You've been holding on to me since we got closer." You blink and look down—you've had a hand on Choerry's arm this whole time, and now you're not sure if she's been hugging you tighter, or if you've been pulling her closer to you.

"Oh, damn, sorry!" You hastily let go, but she stays close. If anything, she's even closer now.

"It's okay, good to know we're both scared."

"Enjoy!" You shake your head at the happy staff as the two of you walk through a curtain of dangling chains, loudly drowning out the shouts and screams ahead. It's dark and there's manmade fog everywhere, but you see an eerie green exit light across the room.

"I think we go this way."

"Oh, okay." The two of you walk forward into the fog side-by-side.

"Ahh!" The door behind you slams shut with a loud bang and Choerry is shouting already. "Sorry, sorry!"

"It's fine, I'm here," you reassure, hoping you sound braver than you are. You walk forward with her, dodging the hanging pig corpses—you were in a slaughterhouse.

"RAAAHH!" A huge man makes his presence known, wearing a bloody apron and carrying a cleaver. His boots squelch wetly, as if walking in pools of blood. "GET OVER HERE!" Choerry screams, clinging on to you tighter and burying your head against you.

"Oh shit!" You shout, quickly dragging her through, away from the menacing butcher. "Fucking hell!" You curse loudly. You blink as your eyes adjust to the new room, and your crinkle your nose at the new smell—chlorine and chemical cleaner. A brief spark runs through you as you assess the situation—Choerry pressed tightly against your arm, and the only way to describe that sensation is soft. But you shake that thought from your head as you gently rock her shoulder.

"Hey, he's gone, we're in the next room."

"Huh? Really? Thanks for getting me through."

"We don't have to do this if you're too scared, I can exit with you?"

"N-No! I'm not scared! Well, I won't be, if you'll guide me through the rest!" A spark runs through Choerry as she grabs your arm—firm, comforting, reliable, hot. But she's jarred out of it as someone starts shouting.

"Help me, help me!" In the far corner someone is chained to a chair, various needles seeming to stick out of them, connected to pipes. You're in a mad scientist's lab! A voice booms in the room.

"Ah, new test subjects, are you? Excellent, excellent. Nurses, get them!" On each side you see nurses step out from the shadows, pushing a gurney towards you two, complete with straps hanging off the sides.

"We should keep moving!" Choerry pulls on your arm, and the two of you hurriedly dash through a maze of dividers to walk around and curtains to pull open. The two of you never knew what horrors awaited behind each—you cursed at a single "person", their hands and feet on all the wrong limbs; Choerry screamed at an oozing "corpse". Somehow you manage to drag each other through the demented maze and into the next room.

The room is dim and jaundiced yellow, and you see white sacs hanging from the ceiling—cocoons?

"Oh no no no no no..." Choerry's hiding behind you, and she's shaking. "I can't, I can't do spiders!" You look again and indeed see a large spider perched on its web in the corner, numerous eyes glittering back at you menacingly.

"Stay behind me, I can stay in front." You intended to leave an arm behind for Choerry to grab, but instead she wraps her arms around you, hugging you from behind.

"Please, thank you!" She's warm on your back, and your hand finds its way over hers, and she gratefully grabs it. With her hugging you tightly you waddle your way through the cocoon obstacle course. The large spider hisses and screams at you.

"Oh fuck!" "Ahh!" Choerry screams and you shout when a large spider leg bursts out from a nearby cocoon, swinging away wildly, and the two of you hurry forward. You reach the exit with her, and as you take a deep breath to calm yourself your own nerves are shattered as Choerry screams again!

"Help, help!" Choerry slumps against you, and you whirl around to find her covered in what looks like web, but you take a closer look and realize what it was.

"It's not real, it's just silly string!" you reassure her, and you have to hold her still as you get rid of the string all over her hair.

"Really? I thought the spider was going to trap me or something..."

"I won't let that happen, okay? Hold still." Choerry's heart thumps as you pick out the last pieces of silly string—maybe it's beating quickly from the scare, but she felt attracted to you, taken care of, protected. She felt you trembling against her when she was hugging you, but yet you powered on even if you were scared. The other part of her also felt your midriff as she hugged you—not ripped or shredded, but solid and strong, reliable. A new spark runs down her spine as you touch her hair, trying to remove an annoying piece of string.

"There, all gone." You brush the last piece of string from her hair, and you find yourself stunned momentarily when looking right at Choerry. She is exceptionally pretty, cheeks lightly flushed from the frightening experience. Your fingertips tingle as you brush her hair aside, feeling the light sweat on her hair. Your hand moves down, wanting to cup her face, but you realize what you're doing and clear your throat to shake that thought.

"W-We should move on," Choerry says, voice a little hoarse, husky even.

"Right."

"Wait!" As you make to move forward Choerry grabs your t-shirt. "Sorry, my legs are weak." She was scared silly from the "attack", and you realize what you had to do.

"I'll carry you, we're almost at the end I think."

"Are you sure?"

"You can't be that heavy," you try to joke as you kneel down for her to get on your back. She gets on you gingerly, and her hair tickles your neck as you get on.

"Thank you," Choerry whispers in your ear, and you pray she doesn't notice your tremble as you grab her legs and get up. Meanwhile Choerry's hoping you don't notice her rapidly beating heart—you've literally swept her off her feet, and she's thinking back to her conversation with her unnies.

-----

"Haseul unnie, how did you meet your boyfriend?"

"Oppa? It was during COVID, I had to quarantine, we were stuck together, and then things just happened?"

"What just happened? Like did he ask you out?"

"Pabo, we couldn't go out, we were in quarantine!" Haseul blushes and continues. "We just kinda, ended up doing everything during that time together, and we found things compatible."

"Compatible? You mean— Wait, by everything you mean—" Choerry blushes, she can't believe her unnie would do something like that!

"Yeah, we did everything together! I just let things happen... Naturally." Haseul shouts initially, but plunges on, face red in embarrassment.

"But that's so random! It could have been anyone else!"

"We just had chemistry, you know, so I initiated. Like there's no reason, but it felt right, felt good to be together."

"And he didn't even ask you out, you just asked him?"

"What's wrong with that!" Jinsol interjects herself into the conversation. "I also asked oppa first too."

"Really?" Choerry's shocked by her other unnie.

"Yeah, he saw me as his best friend's little sister, but I liked him, so I went up to him and kissed him! I'd say the results are quite good," she adds with a dopey smile on her face.

"You're texting him right now aren't you?" Haseul jokes.

"Mmhmm!" The two of them bicker, leaving Choerry to drift off on his warm back.

-----

"Oh fuck!" Choerry's startled out of her thoughts as she's spun around. "I can't, fuck ghosts, I don't do ghosts." She looks at the way they have to go and sees a long corridor, complete with a few Sadakos, long hair covering their face, dressed in white gowns and hands outstretched—some sort of haunted high school concept.

"Huh? They're zombies!" she tries to make you think of them differently, but it doesn't help.

"Zombies, ghosts, same difference, I don't like them!" you mutter in a rush. Choerry hurriedly comforts you, gently brushing your face.

"Hey, it's okay. Do you trust me?"

"Trust you?"

"Yes, just look down at your feet, okay?" Choerry has a hand over your eyes. "Whatever you do, don't look up, just make sure you don't trip, and listen to me." You take a deep breath and whirl around.

"I'm ready."

"Okay, just walk forward until I tell you to stop." Choerry encourages you as you go.

"Yes, one step at a time, you're doing good."

"Take one step to the left, do not look up."

"Now like 3 steps to the right. Omo hello!" Choerry is surprised by one of them, but greets them happily.

"Choerry!"

"Sorry, sorry, we can just walk forward." You fill the images in your head from the sounds—the screech of nails on blackboard, the haunting laughs of children, the unyielding ticks of a loud clock. But Choerry's in your ear, noticing your fear and whispering comforting directions.

"We're almost there, just a few more steps." You only notice you're done when you feel Choerry tap your shoulder and tilt your chin towards her.

"We're done, we finished!" You're so thankful you could kiss her, and she's so pretty up close. Choerry notices the closeness too—you're pretty cute when scared and flustered, and kinda cute regardless. She's already moving closer when she catches hold of herself and blinks rapidly. "You can umm, put me down now."

"Huh? Oh, yeah." You let Choerry down, and when you think you can finally relax a booming voice is heard from behind you.

"YOU THINK YOU CAN GET AWAY? YOU BETTER NOT COME BACK, YOU BETTER RUN, RUN AND NEVER COME BACK!" It seems to grow in volume, as if getting closer and getting angrier, and you grab Choerry by the arm and run further away, clearing the fence surrounding the attraction. A generic voice comes through a much smaller speaker.

"We hope you enjoyed your time here, thank you and we hope to see you again!" The absurd contrast of the two messages makes you break out into laughter, and you hear Choerry's piercing laughter right next to you—you had pulled her along to the exit, and when you stopped you caught her momentum, wrapping her up in a hug. The two of you laugh and smile, happy to be done with the ordeal.

"Thanks for getting me through it."

"Thank you for carrying me through it," Choerry answers back, holding your gaze. The arms you have around her stay there, and she doesn't make any attempt to break out either. You feel your own heard pounding, or is that Choerry's? You meet her sparkling eyes, drawn inexorably to them, wanting to see them closer up.

But the next pair comes barging through, shouting and screaming just like you two were earlier, and the moment is broken.

"Oh! Sorry!" You quickly get out of the way, only to find that Choerry has stepped in the opposite direction.

"So umm, thanks!" You call out lamely.

"Yeah, thanks!" she calls back. Out of habit she checks her phone, and a few messages pop up.

*Choerry are you out yet?*

*It shouldn't take that long, did she just chicken out and leave?*

*Do they not let her in if she's alone? Is she still back at the entrance?*

She turns to look at you still standing there, on your phone too, and quickly fires a white lie to her unnies.

*Yeah, they didn't let me in, so I just went back, don't worry about me I'm already back home!*

With that done she puts her phone away. As she goes to tap your shoulder you're also turning around, slipping your own phone in your pocket.

"Oh, hey, you're still here?"

"Yeah, my unnies, they ditched me."

"Yeah, my friends too, ditched me as well." From the knowing smile you give each other you both know it didn't matter if any of that was true or not. But the two of you hang around, unsure how to breach the real topic at hand, and more couples come running out until Choerry decides to take the initiative.

"Hey, do you mind coming home with me? I'm still a little scared, don't want to take a cab alone."

"O-Oh, sure, of course."

Choerry's hand felt hot as you helped her into the cab.

"Safely home," you add pointlessly as Choerry unlocks the door.

"Yes, thank you. Please, come in." Daringly she pulls you through the door, and as she holds you close her initiative is rewarded—you're looking at her intensely, her eyes seeming to shimmer again with the sparks that are flying between the two of you. Choerry's heart is racing as you get even closer, and as you lean in head tilted, her own eyes flutter shut, letting the moment take over.

You're kissing Choerry, and her lips are every wonderful adjective you can come up with—soft, rosy, plump, sweet, juicy. You capture her bottom lip, gently sucking on it and finding her absolutely delicious. A little gasp escapes her, and you're cupping her cheek, pulling her back to capture her lips again. You wrap an arm around her, pulling her closer, hand playing with the hem of her sweater. A small hand on your chest stops you in your tracks.

"Sorry, I don't do this normally, or at all." Choerry can't meet your eyes, looking down at the floor.

"Right, I understand, sorry I thought— Yeah." You don't know what else to say, did you misunderstand the situation? Your hands fall away from her, abashed at your rashness. But immediately Choerry's pulling on your t-shirt and leaning into you, and you're feeling her lips on yours again. This time she is more passionate, throwing her arms around your neck, pressing herself fully into you, a hand running through your hair. When she pulls back both of you are breathless, and the spark in her eyes has become a fire.

"But it feels good, feels right, so..." Choerry takes your hands and has them rest on her hips. You press your forehead to Choerry's, watching her mouth hang slightly open when you move your hands slightly, going over the edge of her jeans and brushing circles on her bare skin.

"Okay, we go as far as you're comfortable with." Choerry's losing herself in the moment, feeling the hairs on your neck stand—you're just as nervous as she is, and she overcompensates with bravado. She kisses you again before pulling away—she pulls her sweater up and over her head, revealing her toned midriff teasingly before her simple white top drops back in place. Her voice is heavy with desire, the words thick in her throat as she tells you how far she wants to go in the few words she can manage.

"All the way."

You reply in kind, taking off your t-shirt, and your jeans get a little more strained as you see Choerry lick her lip subconsciously, eager eyes taking you in. You kiss her once again, hands sneaking under her thin top as her hands wander your shoulders and chest. Choerry parts her lips, sighing into the kiss, and you let yourself in, drawing a low moan from her. Your tongues dance and fight, and after a fierce battle both of you catch your breath—you take the chance to assure her of your intentions.

"Right there with you."

You're right there with Choerry, on top of her in fact, hungrily plunging your tongue into her mouth as she grips your arms. To Choerry her bed seems floaty, like she's barely laying on it—with how you're kissing her, sucking on her lower lip, it's like you're lifting her off the bed just off that alone! The muscles she feels on your arms only serve to turn her on even more, and the arousal is no more apparent than in the stiff nubs you feel as your hand brushes over her chest, making Choerry wish her top was removed already.

There is one thing Choerry wants to see removed more, and she reaches for your jeans, unbuttoning them and watching you kick it off, showing your desire for her.

"Your turn." Her breath catches as you reach for her jeans, right below her bellybutton. "Still with me?"

"Huh?" Choerry finds your questioning gaze, your fingers on her freshly popped jean button.

"You made a sound, like a squeak." Did she? Choerry's too engrossed in feeling you, unable to keep track of everything happening everywhere on her body, all at once.

"Just really sensitive, everything feels so... much."

"We can go slower." Choerry keeps her eyes locked on you, and you're looking right back at her as you slowly unzip her jeans—she has to remind herself to breathe, she's not sure she has ever been so turned on from such a simple act! You peel the tight jeans down her generous thighs and slim calves, revealing the simple black panties she has on.

"Wow." You let out a small laugh at just how lucky you are tonight, but Choerry tries to cover with her hands, long legs twisting, trying to hide from you.

"Don't laugh, I didn't think I'd be—" You shush her with a kiss, pulling her hands away and gently pushing her legs open with yours.

"No, it's a good wow, you're amazing." You push a knee up between her legs, and you grow even harder. "So sexy, so wet for me."

Choerry gasps, unsure which bolt of pleasure is stronger—your knee brushing against the apex of her thighs, or you saying that she's sexy. Soon it doesn't matter anymore as the constant friction between her thighs is becoming a burn, cauterizing and sealing off any idle thoughts. All she can do is focus on how good everything feels—your hot breath on her neck as you plant a mark on her, hands licentiously having their way with her underneath her top, your warmness both between her legs and on her lips as she leaves mindless hickeys all across your neck.

"Wait! No, don't..." You are halted by Choerry's breathless gasps, but it is a false alarm when you look down—her thighs squeeze around the one she's straddling, and she's openly grinding against you. "I-It feels good." Gone is the bright and cheery tone, replaced with something huskier, downright seductive.

"Okay, do what feels good." Choerry's hands are on your shoulders, and you watch her head sink into the pillow, tilted back as she loses herself in the pleasure. Her delicious midriff undulates as she writhes on your thigh, the little noises she makes causing you to stain your own underwear with precum.

"Mmph!" She's grabbing you by the neck, pulling you against her twisting body to use for leverage—she's bucking herself against you, and with your face pressed against her chest you hear her heartbeat spike, her lungs swelling to take in air—

"Nngh!" Any shout or scream Choerry wanted to make is snuffed out by the pleasure, but you feel her cum all the same, your thigh suddenly getting hot and wet as she rides out her orgasm. "Oh yes... Yes, yes, yes..." All she manages is a sigh followed by softer moans, her grip on you slackening as her entire body begins to relax. Your knee is sore from kneeling on the bed, and you slowly pull away, waiting for her to recover. Thankfully you're not left hanging for too long, and as she pushes herself up she looks at your own "wet spot" on your boxers.

"Sorry I took my time didn't I?" You don't even manage to reply as she takes off her thin white camisole before coming towards you. "I made a mess too, you felt so good." She wipes your shiny thigh with her top, cleaning it up and maybe ruining her top in the process. But both of you are too far gone to care as she discards the rag, fingers pulling on your boxers.

"Can I?"

"Y-Yeah, yeah." Choerry pulls your underwear down, letting your cock spring free. "Oh fuck!" you moan as she daringly wraps a hand around you, making a test stroke.

"Does that feel good?"

"Really good, really really good."

"But we can't end it early can we? We're going all the way." Choerry pulls away, propping herself up on her elbows as she looks at you seductively—for someone who's so bright and cheery, she sure knew how to entice you, and like a moth drawn to a flame you're on top of her once more, hands going straight to her panties.

"My turn?"

"Please." Your fingers tremble a little, but you get ahold of yourself and roll them down her hips, revealing her wetness, still swollen and pink from her orgasm earlier. Much like the rest of Choerry right now it looks delicious, and you're tempted to dive in, but she pushes you off with her feet, kicking her underwear off.

"All the way," she reiterates—Choerry wanted to go all the way, and she wanted to go all the way now.

"Stop me if I'm going too fast," you murmur, positioning yourself between her spread legs.

"No, I trust you." You start with just the proverbial tip, wedging yourself in her. "Wow, it's so big." Choerry blurts out, half-praise, half-concern. She's not wrong either—you feel just how tight she is right from the get go, see the way it must look to her, watching herself be split open. Yet she wants all of it, pushing herself down the bed, just enough to take another half inch of you.

"I want it all the way in me." Choerry holds you close, the pressure between her legs seeming to grow without end as you give her what she wants. Your groans are music to her ears, knowing that it's overwhelming for you too—just like the haunted house earlier, you're experiencing this together. A few seconds later you're pressed on her, and Choerry can feel you throbbing, in time with your heartbeat.

"All the way in... Fuck," you mutter—much like Choerry, you can feel all of her, how, despite her nerves, she's hungry for you, her body trying to draw you in, walls pulling at your shaft. You stay still, both of you breathing deeply, taking it all in.

Then she squirms. Much like she did on your thigh earlier, and it is your sign to move. You draw back, feeling Choerry shudder as you pull out, a balance of delicious friction and wistful emptiness. You push in, and this time her pussy yields easier, the slickness coating your cock making things smoother but just as delightful.

Now one more time, but faster.

"Ah!"

Choerry's yelp triggers something in both of you—she can't control herself, so you didn't need to either. This time you no longer stay composed, no longer measured in your movements; No, you're hugging Choerry and *doing what feels good*. With your face buried in her neck, you don't see much, but much like earlier, you don't need to—Choerry's whispering all the directions you need right into your ear.

"Harder, yes harder!"

"Faster, please go faster..."

"Right— Nngh right there, right there!"

Along with a few not-so-useful descriptions.

"You're so deep in me, no one's ever been this deep!"

"Y-You're stretching me, oh my god, please don't stop!"

"I'm so close, please, please!"

"Fuck I'm going to cum so hard..."

Your reply to Choerry makes her pop right away.

"Do what feels good."

"Oh oh oh I'm cumming, I'm cumming! Feels so— Mmm!" Choerry sucks on your neck hard as she combusts, wrapping her legs tightly around you. When she's done you're close yourself, and you need to do something to mix it up.

"You trust me right?"

"Mmhmm?" You sit up and get Choerry to sit in your lap. She thought you wanted her to ride you, but as soon as you're in her again you have her ass in your hands, and she's clinging on to your neck while you stand up.

"Oh god..." With gravity's help you're even deeper in her, and a jolt of pleasure goes through her when you make an experimental thrust.

"See, you're not heavy."

Choerry wants to say that that's not the point, that what is important to her is that you're fucking running your cock through her, kissing the very end of her warmth and making her toes curl.

"Mmph, hnngh... Ah, ah ah ah— mmm!" Yet that's all that comes out when you start thrusting, and Choerry dips her head, succumbing to the sensation of truly going "all the way" with you, your tip nudging against her cervix with every thrust. She's putty in your arms, hanging off you, powerless to do much more than cum, and she cums hard.

"Mmm, ah!" Choerry yelps and braces herself against you, unable to stem the tide of pleasure rushing through her. It starts as a warm wave of slick over your shaft, but as you keep thrusting into her it becomes a splatter against your crotch and your thighs. When she digs her nails against your neck you take that as your sign to stop, and like an awning after a storm Choerry's dripping all over the place, and her husky harsh heaves are loud in the room, the last howls of the storm that just ripped through her.

"Feels good to trust you."

"I'm glad, but I'm close."

"Good, I was wondering when I could make you feel good. Put me down." You let Choerry down, and she drops to her knees, grabbing your slick shaft and stroking you. You feel too good to notice the slight tremble in Choerry's hand—you had just given her the strongest orgasm she's had in a while, and yet she finds herself wanting more.

But she definitely wanted to repay your efforts first.

"Look at me." Choerry directs, and you listen. She's still incredibly pretty, but the large round eyes that twinkled as she laughed and screamed and whooped with you at the haunted house are now tinted with a shade of lust. Choerry looks innocent, but only innocent enough for you to stain. You're pointed right at her face, but you're quickly pointed to the back of her throat as she takes you in, distorting her beauty even more.

"C-Choerry..." you moan, meaning to tell her how good she feels or some such, but those thoughts fly out the windows when she starts ruining herself on you, tongue doing things that you never imagined she would do—around and under your shaft, swirling right over your tip. Your legs quiver and shake as it all becomes too much, and Choerry grabs your hips, pulling you deeper into her.

"Fuck!" The first two shots go right down her throat, and then you're out of her mouth. You're powerless in front of Choerry—eyes closed and hand stroking you furiously, all you can do is stand there and let her do it. You can't take your eyes off her, unable to hold back the surge of pleasure and cum that begins to cover her face. You let out a low moan of relish as she extends your orgasm, rubbing your tip and getting more makeup-ruining seed all over her as a reward. When she stops you're staggered and she's completely glazed, a particularly heavy blob sliding off her cheek.

"Oh shit... Uh hold on." You scramble to find her tissues, but given that you're in her apartment, she beats you to it with a soft laugh, beginning to wipe her face clean. The pretty and sweet Choerry reappears as she removes your load.

"There, all better."

"You umm— There's still a little bit." Choerry makes to wipe the little bit still on her lip, but she thinks better of it, smirking and making a show of licking it off, reminding you of what she can be just a moment ago.

"Mm, salty."

"Wow, you were amazing," you blurt out lamely—what else do you say when you've busted down their throat and covered them in cum?

"I'm glad you liked it, it was great for me too." She makes a show of cleaning up between her legs, slowly bringing the tissues up her creamy thighs and removing the slick shine off them. Cleanup is supposed to be awkward but necessary, yet Choerry makes it hot, showing you just how good you made her feel earlier. "I'll be right back."

As Choerry takes the soaked tissues to the restroom, her thoughts are a bit of a mess, much like the rest of her. She doesn't remember the last time she came that hard or that wetly, and as she flushes the tissues down she briefly brushes between her legs, gasping at her own findings—Choerry's still sticky, a gooey mess. She finally understands Haseul's drunken confessions.

-----

"How do you know oppa's the best you ever had? You haven't even been sleeping around! Or have you?" Choerry asks incredulously, not believing her unnie's declarations.

"Yah, of course I haven't!" Haseul looks around, and motions Choerry to get closer. "You know how when you do it alone, you're happy with one round?" Choerry blushes but nods, she knows what Haseul means exactly—the satiating satisfaction of getting herself off once is usually enough. "Well when I do it with oppa, I just... Want more. Want to be closer to him, want to, you know, receive more 'love' from him." Haseul replaces the crude 4-letter word in her head with something nicer. "But don't guys only do it once, how can you get him to do it again?"

"Choreo."

"Choreo?"

"Mmhmm, our choreo has sexy parts right? The ones where the fans scream because it's just a little too sexy but fine since it's only for a line or two? Just do something in those positions."

"I just bend over, it's mm... Easy to get him to do it again..." Jinsol mumbles, half-asleep already. Before Choerry could ask them more they both headslam the table, falling asleep in their drunkness.

-----

It is with those thoughts in mind that Choerry returns to the bedroom.

"You should umm, stay the night, it's late."

"Are you sure? I don't want to impose or anything."

"No, I wouldn't mind at all."

Choerry watches you put on your boxers and t-shirt, debating with herself how forward she wanted to be and what choreo she should use.

"Which side should I take?"

"Hmm? Whichever you want," she answers distractedly. It is a little later, when you have an arm around her, that she settles on Flower Rhythm.

Just as you are drifting into sleep, you feel the weight on your arm lessen. You take a peek and immediately start waking up—Choerry's holding a hairtie in her mouth, bunching up her hair behind before tying it off. Even that simple act is hot, and it gets even hotter when she bends over, getting on all fours right next to you. You're wide awake now, but Choerry only notices it when she pulls down your boxers and finds a half-stiff cock in front of her.

"Oh, you're up?"

"Only halfway," you manage to joke. "I felt you move, and then I saw you tie your hair and then now... Yeah, I'm awake."

"Let's get you all the way awake then." She takes you in her mouth again, but this time, more than her skills with her tongue it is the sight of Choerry bent over and wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt and boy shorts that gets you harder than steel and eager to pump some of that iron into her.

"I'm wide awake, just stay there." Choerry reacts viscerally to your rasp—she felt just how hard you were in her mouth, and now you're going behind her to... She gets lower on the bed and curves her back a little more, pushing her butt a little higher—god she wants this so bad! All she can think about is you looming over her, grabbing her hips and—

"Ah!" Her shorts are yanked down unceremoniously, bunching at her knees—Choerry's forgotten that she's still wearing clothes, and in a flurry she pulls her t-shirt off and kicks her shorts away. She blushes a little at how eager and direct she's being, but she's grateful that you don't say anything; Or rather, she's grateful that you're already grabbing her by the hips, and that delicious pressure is growing between her legs immediately.

"Fuck yes..." you hiss, enjoying sinking yourself into Choerry for a second time tonight. Despite having stretched her deep and spread her walls once, she's just as tight as before, and you have to firmly push into her, drawing a loud moan.

"Ohhh yes! Ah..." Choerry's labored breaths give you pause, and you stop moving, letting her get used to you again, but she turns back to face you, beckoning you to lean over her. "Don't worry about me, you feel so good. Do what feels good for you." She emphasizes this by leaning forward and pushing back, making sure you feel her butt pressed against your hips. It's utterly unholy the way she's flush against you, urging you to hilt yourself deep in her.

Choerry braces as you grab her hips and pull back, but nothing prepares her for the sharp spike in pleasure when you snap your hips forward, and her arms give way immediately. She's wrinkling the bedsheet, biting it with her teeth and grabbing it with her hands as you pump into her. She's moaning into the bed, her muffled whimpers joining the solid smack of flesh on flesh ringing in her head. Each thrust leaves her gasping for more, and her body reacts with a mind of its own, pushing her cunt back against your rod, just to get you back in her faster, harder, deeper!

"Fuck Choerry... holy shit!" She feels like velvet and silk, trying to tug you deeper into her each time. The rest of her toned body is just as enticing—the way her shoulders flex when she pushes herself back at you, and you follow the slim line of her body to— Oh how her thighs ripple when you slam into her from behind! It's one thing to bounce her in the air on top of you, it's another to take her from behind, bouncing your hips off her ass, and you wanted more.

"Hnngh!" Choerry's moans grow louder in volume when she feels a hand on her lower back, forcing her to arch her back even more. You're taking charge now, and the new angle causes you to rub right against her g-spot, the pleasure tugging Choerry's eyes back, rolling them into her head. Her legs flex, trying to push her ass higher, to give you an even steeper angle to fuck her at. But no, you grab her hips and hold her down, seeming to fix her at the perfect height to pump down and forward into her.

Over and over you slam down on Choerry, striking at her g-spot repeatedly, numbing the rest of her body and replacing all of it with pleasure. At some point she begins to cum, her toes curling, teeth biting into the bedsheets to stop herself from screaming. A tidal wave of joy slams into her... And then another one, and then one more—there's no end in sight!

Now Choerry understands why Haseul does that move in Flower Rhythm so well, she must get fucked in this position so often, because it feels fucking amazing. Choerry doesn't even have to do anything, just lie there and take it and cum. And cum she does too, ecstasy consuming her thoughts as you fuck her silly. At some point she's no longer biting the sheets, and she's yelping and wailing, trying to swallow her screams and failing spectacularly.

"Feels so good Choerry, I'm close!" She keeps getting tighter and wetter, you're not sure how long you can last.

"I-I'm cumming!" It doesn't even come out right, Choerry wanted to say "I've been cumming!" But she's been trapped in her orgasms the whole damn time, cumming her brains out and barely coherent, a mess between her legs and her ears. Yet you still fuck her, pounding her until her whole body feels like jello. You treat her words as approval to finish, and the bedsprings creak loudly, the bed rattling faster and faster as you chase your own peak.

A small groan escapes her when you pull out, and the slick that should be coating your cock comes out as a small squirt against your thighs. Both of you moan loudly when you cum, the hot jizz all over her back just as satisfying for Choerry as it is for you. You fire large spurts all over her, covering her pale skin with your thick load.

"Damn! Shit!" You're left speechless as your legs go weak, forcing you to sit on the bed. Choerry similarly slumps forward, sighing as she lands on the bed with a thump. "Are you okay?" Both of you are silent for a while, gasping deeply to catch your breath and process the fuck that just happened.

"Yeah, feels so good..." She tries to reach behind herself, and you quickly wipe the cum off for her. Choerry turns herself around immediately, pulling you into a passionate, almost desperate kiss. She's sucking on your lower lip, tugging with her teeth, trying to draw you in deeper. You reply in kind, tongue pushing past her lips, wanting to suck all the oxygen out of her, to leave her breathless once more. You're stirring for a third round, but you recognize the lack of sparkle in Choerry's eyes—not dimmed by lust, but dulled by fatigue. It's time to call it a night.

"We should rest."

"Huh? Sure... my clothes, where?" From the sleepiness and pleasure rendering her brain earlier Choerry makes just enough sense, and you grab her clothes, helping her slip them on before she bundles under the covers. You manage to find your own boxers and put them on before joining her in bed. As you sidle next to her under the covers she shifts herself closer to you, resting her head on your shoulder.

"Good night," You murmur, and a smile is all she manages before her eyelids droop, and she's off to dreamland, a hand on your chest feeling your heartbeat. You just hope it doesn't wake her up.

That amazing smile.

You fall asleep eventually. When you wake up, you unfortunately don't see Choerry snuggling next to you, but you do hear the clink of cutlery on dishes outside.

"Good morning!" Choerry calls out cheerily as you step out of the bedroom. You rub the sleep from your eyes and blink—you blink very quickly. Choerry's dressed simply in a white singlet and powder blue shorts, there's a bit of red on her neck from where you left your mark last night, but she looks otherwise flawless.

"Something to eat?"

"Sure, whatever you're having there I guess."

She quickly gets you a bowl of granola and yogurt. There is a quiet awkwardness to the whole thing, and you wonder if you should have put on all of your clothes before coming out rather than just your t-shirt. Choerry's eating silently next to you, both of you thinking about the same thing.

What do I even say?

"So umm, I have to go to work later." Choerry states quietly.

"Right, let me get out of your way, let you prepare—"

"No! I mean, there's no rush. Please, finish your food. Oh..." She notices a bit of yogurt on your lip.

"What is it?"

"You have a little—" She points to her own lip, but you miss it, because for a second she looks so pretty you can't tell left from right. "No, let me get it" She leans in—

She's kissing you again. Choerry's smudging the yogurt, tugging on your upper lip, cleaning it for you. She often joked about how her unnies were always finding chances to steal away and be with their boyfriends, but she understands their actions a little better now, now she's just like them. The attraction is magnetic, and as soon as she's close enough she wants to kiss you, touch you, feel you against her body— Fuck she's wet again. Choerry's shorts land in a pile on the floor and she swings her legs across your lap, straddling you.

"One more time. Want to feel good again." Choerry murmurs. Now the passionate and desperate kiss from last night returns in full force. You drop your cutlery with a clang, and she's light enough that you can squirrel your boxers down just the right amount.

"Ch-Choerry!" Your tip is engulfed in her wetness almost immediately, and she's whining into your gasp, both reactions to just how needy and ready she is for you.

"Let me ride you!" She's asking, but not really, as Choerry's already starting to rock her hips back and forth on top of you. More and more of you slips into her, and her husky moans get louder and louder. You're buried in her neck, and Choerry let's her top slip down, an invitation for you to play with her chest.

"Mmm!" She whines when you kiss along her bust line, hands on your head urging you to do more. You make her slow down, steadying her so that you can take a nipple between your lips, gently sucking and licking it. "Yes, just like that..." The frantic riding settles into a slower but no less intense grind, as if you playing with her tits has made her tighten around you, and she's savoring every inch of your cock she's taking even more. You play with both of her breasts, and her moans get quieter and faster, her lungs struggling to keep up with the sinuous and sinful exercise she's putting herself through.

"Mmm, I'm cumming, I'm cumming!" Choerry flings her arms around your neck and crushes you against her. She buries her face in your hair to muffle her cry, the vibrations rattling you to your core. You help her along her orgasm, pulling her waist towards you each time she clenches around you, adding wave after wave of pleasure and extending her peak. When she finally recovers your connection is sticky, and Choerry is a bit of a wreck—top pulled down, hair mussed, a pale skin flushed with pleasure.

"J-Just one more..." she mumbles, beginning to ride you again. Choerry's not really "pent up", but her body's asking the question her heart hasn't put into words yet—"Where were you all this time?!" Now she's more surprised that the unnies spend so much time with the group—if she had a boyfriend like you she would be spending as much time as possible with you and not the group! She throws her head back and lets out a low moan, hilting herself and cumming again all over your cock.

"Fuck Choerry, I'm close, you need to get off!" You're throbbing hard inside her. If last night was Choerry losing it because of your fucking, today morning is Choerry taking charge, fucking you, and making you lose it—you're going to cum even harder than last night. She's sweating, her entire body just as hot and wet as her walls are wrapped around you. At your warning she seems to ride you even harder, her moans long and low.

"Choerry!"

"Do you trust me?"

"What?"

"Just do what feels good, trust me." Choerry's holding your face in her hands, begging you to say yes.

"Yes, I— Oh fuck! Trust you!" You can't form a coherent sentence either.

"Just tell me when, tell me when you feel good, last one!" Your hands settle on her waist, trying to steady her, but Choerry's movements only get more intense, borderline violent—her knees dig into your hips and she's bouncing herself in your lap, your thighs taking a beating against the chair.

"Want you to cum, please, please..." She's determined to drag you off the cliff with her, struggling to maintain eye contact with you as her chin dips down, her body bracing and holding off her own orgasm best she can. The way she calls out to you, moans for you, her walls clenching around you with raw need, it all becomes too much.

"Fuck, now!" you groan, and Choerry has a split second to decide if she should get off you or sink even deeper in your lap, but the only thought her in mind is—

Do what feels good.

"Fuck yes, oh yes, ohhh yes yes yes! Oh my god!" Her words and your moans ring loudly in the apartment. Choerry spreads her legs and lowers her hips, and your arm around her waist pulls her in on instinct, both of you making sure that she takes every last inch and every last drop of cum into her. The burst of warmth in her womb and surge of bliss rips through her body, tearing a scream from her as she loses control. Choerry tries to close her legs, as if it's too much to experience, but all it does is trap you in place, keeping you there as you continue pumping her full of thick seed.

"Ahh, it's so hot, so much..." And it quickly becomes too much, the flow of cum into Choerry seeming to reverse—a sinful mix of you and her leak out the sides, coating your shaft as the two of you tremble and shudder, tangled together in the heat of explosive intimacy. When Choerry manages to gather herself again she sees you still recovering, head tilted back and looking like a man totally drained. Only now does she wonder about her decision—was it reckless, was it safe, was it what she wanted? Yes, yes, and yes. But there is one question Choerry doesn't know the answer to—What would you think? Would you think less of her? She told you she doesn't normally do this, yet she just let you—

"Worried?" you ask, knocking her out of her reverie.

"Yes, I mean no, not about that, I'm umm, safe." How does she even ask a question like that? How does she even begin to phrase it.

Meanwhile you have your own worries. You wanted this to be more than a one-off, but Choerry is so far out of reach. From the waist up, blushing slightly as she fixes her top and hair, Choerry looked like a virtual angel. Yet she's in your lap, panties pulled to the side, with what's left of your morning wood leaking out of her freshly fucked pink pussy. What do you even say to someone like her, the perfect girlfriend and perfectly ruinable lover, to appeal to her? You settle for reassuring her for now.

"I'm with you all the way, whatever happens." Choerry opens her mouth to dispute, to tell you that's not what she's worried about, but as you brush her hair tenderly, she realizes you've answered everything she couldn't put into words. When she leans in, asking for a kiss with a pout, you realize you've said everything you needed to say, and you give her a kiss happily.

The magic ends when an alarm on her phone sounds.

"I need to leave soon, do you mind getting me some tissues?"

"Oh, yeah of course." You find her the tissues, and she does her best to quickly clean up. "Should I go first? I'll give you your privacy."

"No no, I'll be done quickly, the rest I can do at the salon. Here's your clothes." Choerry disappears into the bedroom as you get dressed in the living room.

"You go to a salon for work?" you ask her as she comes out fully dressed.

"Yeah umm for makeup, I'm an idol."

"Oh, so... we can't meet again can we?" You have a sinking feeling—after the best night of your life, you might be facing the worst day right after.

"No, we just have to be careful, go to less popular spots, or at odd times, stuff like that. I... hope that's okay?" Choerry holds her breath, praying that it isn't a dealbreaker.

"Yeah, no that's great, we can do that." Both of you breathe a sigh of relief internally as you enter the elevator. "I'd love to take you out somewhere quiet, one where we're not jumping out of our shoes every few minutes."

"Yes, no spiders and zombies."

"And ghosts," you remind her.

"Right, they're the same thing." Choerry realizes that the elevator is close to ground floor, that she's close to being in the public eye once again. She takes your phone and puts her number in, shushing your indignant sputtering about zombies and ghosts with a peck on your lips.

"It's a date then, don't make me wait."

She feels her phone vibrate almost immediately after she leaves you, and she's smiling at your invitation for next weekend as she tumbles into the van with the other members.

"Choerry yah, did you get back okay yesterday? I'm sorry they wouldn't let you in, you could've just stayed home the whole time!"

"Oh no unnie it was fine, I'm glad I went all the way."

A/N: Haunted house fic a month after Halloween lmao. Anyways been wanting to write Choerry for a long while but didn't have the best setup for it until now, so I kinda overcooked it with scenes and pics XD Hope you enjoy it and thanks for reading!

#smut #choerry #artms

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violentdelightsandviolentends · 1 day ago

Note

You would hit BELIEVE how happy I am that you’re writing fics for Declan O’Hara he’s my new DILF obsession!!! Also it was so well-written and in-character, oh my goodness!

I was wondering if I could request a fic where Declan and female!reader are having an affair, and she’s super nervous because she’s Taggie’s best friend. She meets Declan one night in his car, and he calms her down and, obviously, they have car sex.

Ending this with a huge I LOVE YOUR WORK

Shut Up and Drive.

It’s a funny thing, isn’t it? The one person who riles you up the most is also the only person that can calm you down.

declan o’hara x female reader

warnings - smut. cursing. age gap. cheating. declan and his dirty mouth. one use of the c word. overuse of the nickname sweetheart.

word count - 3k

authors note - the minute he put that baby blue t shirt on… I was suddenly on my knees. funny how that happens. can’t and won’t stop with the fics for this man. I am riding the rivals train to the ends of the earth, baby. thanks for being so sweet, anon <3

masterlist. inbox.

The phone is shaking in your trembling hand, cord all tangled where you keep twisting it around your finger nervously.

“Hello?”

You almost drop the receiver at the sound of that familiar Irish accent, despite the fact that you were the one that rang him. It has your stomach churning, in a different way than usual.

“H-hi,” you barely whisper, before clearing your throat and trying again. “Hi. It’s me.”

“Hi, sweetheart,” he breathes, as if it’s the first time he’s taken a lungful of air all day.

“I, um… I’m sorry to call you on the house phone. I know it’s not how we do things usually.”

“It’s alright. What’s the matter? Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay. I just, uh… I called to say that I can’t do this anymore.”

“Sweetheart-”

“I would have told you in person, but I didn’t know when I was going to see you next, so.”

“Can we-” he begins, before lowering his voice so as not to be overheard, “-can we talk about this properly? Please?”

“We can’t. I can’t. We shouldn’t.”

“Sweetheart, I’m beggin’ ya. One conversation. You’re not ending this in a quick phone call on a Wednesday night, you hear me?”

You inhale deeply, biting at your lips. There’s pure anxiety radiating through your body, prickly and unrelenting.

“I hear you,” you murmur down the receiver. “Okay.”

“Okay,” he sighs in relief. “I’m gonna come and get ya - we’ll go for a drive, alright?”

“Sorry you have to lie,” you whisper, guilt colouring your tone.

“I’d lie for you a thousand times over.”

His words shouldn’t make you feel as giddy as they do, but alas. Here you are.

“I’ll put some shoes on.”

“And a coat. It’s cold as fuck tonight.”

You half laugh, half snort at him down the phone, dreamily imagining the grin he most likely has painted on his face listening to you.

“Yes sir,” you tease, giggling. “I’ll see you soon.”

“I’ll drive up without my headlights on. Look out for me, yeah?”

“I will.”

I always do, you think to yourself. I always do.

The line goes dead abruptly, the buzzing vibrating straight into your temples. You slip your shoes on, quickly fixing your hair and touching up your makeup in the mirror in the hallway while you’re there. You shrug your arms into your coat at Declan’s orders, knowing he’d tell you off if you turned up without it on.

You’ve almost forgotten the entire reason you called in the first place was to break things off with him.

Almost.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

True to his word, Declan drives up your road without his headlights on, slowly and with practised precision.

You’re waiting at the window for him, patiently anticipating the sight of that stupid yellow car. You’re out of the door in seconds as soon as you see him, bounding towards the passenger side and slipping in before anyone notices. He drives off quickly, not taking any time to say hello before he’s taking off out of the town and towards the rolling countryside.

You drive for a good fifteen minutes, to a spot the two of you frequent on your drives. It’s a dirt track, leading to nothing but fields for miles on end. Declan pulls the car around the bend and out of sight from the busier road, knowing that it has more than enough privacy. You’ve never been caught here before, and you don’t plan to start.

Finally turning off the engine, he turns to face you, taking in how the moonlight illuminates your features in the lowlight of the car.

“Hi, sweetheart.”

“Hi.”

You’re refusing to look at him, knowing that if you do, you’ll surge over and kiss him until you’re both dizzy. You can feel his gaze on you, though, intense and unwavering. As it always is.

His thumb and pointer finger hook under your chin, forcing you to stare straight into his determined brown eyes. You’re willing yourself not to crumble, but you can feel your resolve starting to slip already.

“I missed you,” he whispers, careful not to spook you.

“I missed you too,” you say before you can stop yourself. “Shit.”

He chuckles, and the low timbre of it settles right in the pit of your stomach.

“What’s all this about then, hmm? The phone call?”

“What did you tell Taggie? Where did you say you were going?”

It’s your least favourite part about all of this, the lying. Lying to Taggie, to Patrick, to Caitlin, to Rupert, to your friends, to your family. Coming up with excuses has become second nature - something you hate about yourself now. You hate how it comes so naturally to both of you these days.

“Told her I was going to meet someone about some potential research for a show. She had evening plans anyway, she’s off out to Lizzie’s.”

You’re fiddling with your fingers, picking at your nails in a nervous habit as you chew your bottom lip. If anxiety was personified, it’d be you.

“You avoided my question. We need to talk about what you said on the phone, sweetheart.”

Taking a deep breath, you turn in your seat to face him properly, going over the speech you’ve practised in your head dozens of times.

“Okay. I’m… I’m not sure we should do this anymore. I- I just… I feel guilty. For lying to Taggie, mainly. And because you’re technically still married, but mainly for lying to Tag. She’s the closest friend I have, and I’m sleeping with her father. It makes me a terrible person, Declan. I have to put a stop to it.”

He processes your words for a moment, looking at you intently.

“Do ya want to?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you want to? Put a stop to things? Or do you just feel like you should? For other people.”

You want to lie, tell him exactly what you had planned out, feed him what you know will work. But you can’t. You can lie to everyone… except Declan.

“I don’t want to,” you whisper. “But I should. We should.”

“Why now? Did something happen? Did someone say something?”

“No, no. I just… Taggie said something really sweet the other day about how she was glad that she had me, because making friends here hasn’t been easy for her. And it should have made me happy, and instead, it broke my heart.”

“Oh, sweetheart.”

Declan cradles your face in his rough hands, resting his forehead against yours. It’s like the whole world melts away for a moment, leaving just the two of you in the tiny yellow car.

“I’m a horrible person,” you mumble. “And a horrible friend.”

“You’re speaking as if it’s just you. And it’s not, you know. There’s two of us in this affair - I’m just as guilty as you are.”

“Fine then. We’re both horrible people.”

He chuckles, breath tickling your face, and you can’t help the giggle that escapes you. His lips are brushing yours every time he speaks, meaning you can practically taste the cigarette smoke and spearmint on his tongue.

“I never claimed otherwise,” he retorts, still smiling.

“I don’t know what to do,” you admit as his thumbs sweep back and forth across your cheekbones. “It’s weighing down my conscience, and I don’t want to hurt Tag. But… I can’t give you up, Declan. I need you. I need you more than anything.”

“You make me crazy. God, I think about you night and day, sweetheart. My thoughts revolve around if I’ve seen you and when I’m going to see you next.”

“So what do we do? I can’t quit this. I can’t quit you, I can’t quit us. I couldn’t even if I wanted to.”

“I don’t know. Honestly, I don’t know. I wish I had the answers… I wish I could make all your worries go away. But I can’t.”

“I don’t expect you to. I just… I thought that I could do it in one clean sweep. Get it out the way, you know? Call you, end things, be done. And then the minute I heard your voice over the phone… I knew I couldn’t do it. Because deep down, I didn’t want to.”

He leans in to press a lingering kiss to your forehead, desperate to be close to you.

“Declan.”

“If I could fix it all for you, I would,” he murmurs against your skin. “You know I would.”

You pull back to put some distance in between you, watching him carefully for his reaction to what you say next.

“You should break things off.”

He flinches as if you’ve punched him in the stomach.

“What?”

“You should. I clearly can’t, so you have to be the one to do it. Do it, Declan. End things with me right here, right now. Please.”

Your tone is weak and unconvincing, as if you can’t even bring yourself to say the words with any conviction.

“I can’t,” he confesses, voice breaking on the last word. “I can’t do it.”

“Why?”

“Because.”

He takes a deep, shuddering breath, exhaling it slowly as if he’s buying himself some time. You wait patiently for him to continue, nerves frayed at the edges.

“Because I love you.”

Now it’s your turn to flinch, his admission smacking you across the face violently.

“You-”

“Yes. I love you, sweetheart. It’s taken me a while to figure all of this out, but I know it now. That’s why I’ve never been able to end this. Because it’s not just incredible sex… it’s something more. Something real.”

There are tears welling in your eyes as you look at him, watching the way he lays his heart on his sleeve in the moonlight just for you.

“I’m scared,” you confess. “I love you too and it scares me.”

You don’t miss the way his face lights up as you say it, but he’s trying to keep a careful lid on his emotions for now.

“I’m not going to let anything bad happen to ya. You know that.”

All you can do is nod in response, digesting everything that has happened in the last five minutes. You do know that. He’s proven time and time again that you’re not just some fleeting fling to him.

“Declan?”

“Hmm?”

“I love you.”

Now he grins like an idiot, eyes alive with adrenaline and hope.

“That’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever heard ya say.”

You tuck some hair behind his ear before leaning in to gently press your lips to his, wanting to seal the moment. He kisses you back sweetly at first, before taking control with more force, slipping his tongue into your mouth cheekily. You happily let him take the lead, sighing in contentment as you melt into him.

“C’mere.”

Climbing over onto his lap, you hinge your legs on either side of his in the drivers seat, straddling his hips. You try to straighten up but end up hitting your head on the roof of the car, which makes you both wheeze with laughter.

“This car is too fucking small,” you grumble, rubbing the spot that you smacked.

“Y’alright? Want me to kiss it better?”

You hate the way the teasing tone in his voice shoots right to your core, shaking your head in defiance.

“Fuck off,” you mumble, leaning your head on his shoulder. “Patronising bastard.”

“I like it when you get your claws out,” he chuckles, tracing patterns on your thighs over your jeans. “S’hot.”

You kiss him again to shut him up, biting at his bottom lip in punishment. He groans all low and slow, which makes you grind your hips into his, despite the multiple layers of clothing separating you.

“Backseat,” he whispers, pushing you off of him gently. “More room.”

You splay yourself across the wide back seat, opening your legs so Declan can slot in between them.

“You’ve got too many clothes on,” he prompts as he shrugs off his own jacket and undoes his belt.

You can’t help but chuckle at his impatience, happily taking off your coat and jumper and unbuttoning your jeans. Your breath catches in your throat when you look back up at him - he’s wearing the Venturer t shirt that hugs his biceps just right, accentuating every delicious muscle he has to offer you.

“Wore it for you,” he mutters against your lips. “Know you like me in a t shirt.”

You roll your eyes but kiss him with determination anyway, all teeth and tongue and clashing bodies. You’re clawing at his clothed shoulders, wrapping your legs around his waist to buck your hips into his.

“I’ve been thinking about this,” he mumbles into the skin of your neck, pressing kisses wherever he can reach. “Lying awake at night thinking about your thighs, your tits, your cunt.”

All you can do is sigh, fingers digging into his biceps in desperation.

“Wish I could take my time with you like you deserve. These quick fucks just aren’t the same.”

He sounds almost upset about it, voice staying deep and low.

“Remember that time I stayed the night? And you couldn’t walk in the morning?”

You laugh breathily, thinking back fondly to that night a few months ago. You’d both orchestrated it so carefully, crafting cautious lies and fabricated stories to snatch a good sixteen hours of time together.

“Need that again soon. Might have to start sneaking ya into my house in the dark, make you climb the gutters like we’re in a film. Although, it is a bit hard to keep you quiet.”

You try valiantly to ignore the heat that flushes across your chest as he teases you, knowing that he’s right.

“Declan?”

“Yeah, baby?”

You grab his hand and shove it down your underwear, jeans trapped around your thighs. There’s very minimal room in this tiny car, but you’re both determined to make it work. He groans when he feels how wet you are, swiping through your core.

“Fuck me. Have you been like this the entire time?”

“Since this afternoon,” you whimper, trying to grind down onto his fingers. “Couldn’t stop thinking about when you ate me out on my kitchen worktop last week. My legs were shaking for two days afterwards.”

“Fuck,” he breathes, slipping a finger into you as he drops his head onto your shoulder. “I got myself off thinking about that yesterday. I swear if I concentrate, I can still taste you on my tongue.”

All you can do is whimper, desperate to have him in any way you can. The fact that you have the same effect on him that he does on you makes your head spin, dizzy with want.

“Don’t make me wait,” you beg, cradling his face so he has to look you in the eye. “Fuck me, please. Please, Declan.”

“Okay, pretty girl. I’ll give ya anything you want. Anything.”

He shuffles around so he’s sat back on his knees, pushing his jeans and underwear down just enough to free himself. You spread your legs as wide as you can, trying to give him as much room as possible. It’s not the first time you’ve found yourself in this position in this car with him - and it won’t be the last.

“So beautiful,” he murmurs as he leans down to kiss you, licking across your teeth with his tongue. “Most gorgeous girl I’ve ever seen.”

He slides into you with ease, both of you gasping at the familiar sensation. Your nails are digging into his shoulders as he holds your hips in a bruising grip, pads of his fingertips biting into your flesh.

Declan doesn’t waste any time, setting a relentless pace that has you bouncing across the seat. The car is shaking like crazy, all the windows fogged up - anyone who passes will know exactly what’s happening inside.

The man above you can read you like a book and play you like a fiddle. He knows the exact angles of his hips that’ll have you keening, the certain spots to focus on that’ll have you seeing stars. He knows you better than anyone, in more ways than one.

“That’s it,” he soothes, pressing a kiss to your sweaty forehead. “Atta girl. Taking it like you were made for me.”

“Maybe I was,” you breathe, tipping your head back to give him access to your neck. “Just for you.”

He groans all melted and golden like molten honey, the vibrato of it rumbling through your bones. You’re holding onto him for dear life, as if he’s the only thing tethering you to this reality. When his thumb finds your clit to rub firm, slow circles, you’re convinced you’re floating on another plane of existence.

The only word you can seem to formulate is Declan, which only pushes him closer to the finish line. He’s determined to get you there first, angling his hips upward to hit that one spot that has you gasping. When he moves one hand to your throat and gently squeezes, you fall apart instantly, taking him with you.

“I love you,” he breathes as he comes, forehead resting on yours. “My girl.”

You’re shuddering and shaking as you lie underneath him, panting like you’ve just ran ten miles. Declan collapses on top of you, laying his head on your chest comfortably. Your fingers rake through his hair, fingernails scratching at his scalp like you’ve done so many times before.

You both allow yourselves to close your eyes for a minute, recovering and attempting to catch your breath. You’re convinced, for a moment, that you’ll never feel more peaceful than you do right now. You breathe each other in, satiated and content.

You finally open your eyes, expecting to see nothing but fogged windows and starlit darkness. Instead, you see a man bending down, looking straight at you. Arguably the worst possible person that could see the two of you in the position you’re in.

Rupert Campbell Black.

He’s grinning like an idiot, shaking his head in disbelief.

You’re about to warn the man in your arms when Rupert opens the car door, slipping himself into the drivers seat and spinning so he’s facing you. Declan has jumped out of his skin, jolting upwards to cover you as best he can.

Rupert smirks all dirty and knowing, eyes dancing over your half naked forms.

“Well, well, well. Secrets out, lovers.”

@graceflorence @dionysus-drabbles

as aaaaaaaalways… reblogs are golden!! they’re the currency of tumblr, my loves. you reblog, and your favourite writers will write you more fics. simple as that. mwah. <3

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faylvrs · 8 hours ago

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holding you , holding me ✿ bllk men

﹒postscript : when they realise they’re in love, with you. ɞ‎ feat. nagi, reo, rin, karasu, shidou, sae, kaiser ɞ‎ cw fem reader in a few, banter, suggestive

nagi realises he’s in love with you when the late night calls start getting more frequent. he had started craving your presence more and more. hell, he felt lovesick.

“what a hassle..” nagi’s head flops against the bed sheets, his gaze constantly shifting to his phone to see if you’ve replied to his text yet.

the nagi waiting for your texts? not to mention texting first, call a man whipped!

”i only take a few second’s to reply..” nagi picks up his phone again, grumbling when his notifications are empty. if he replies as soon as you do, why do you have to spend the next 3 decades replying back?

nagi’s usually the one who replies and then logs on minecraft for hours. him replying in mere seconds at your texts—you’re definitely special. very special in his eyes, oh. there’s something else that caught his eyes.

nagi’s phone lit up with a notification, from you.

sure! it’s a date then :))

cool, :x. 7PM?

reo realies he’s in love with you when his pockets really start to hurt.

i mean really. he’s been spoiling you relentlessly for the past few weeks. even if you insist you don’t need a new shirt, by tomorrow your closet is filled with them.

you just can’t seem to escape his mind. whenever he walks by the street and spots a store, his first thought goes to you, that maybe you’d like this. that maybe he should buy it for you—of course he will.

“you know.” reo smiles at you as you try on the new necklace he bought for you. “i booked a dinner for us, just us.”

“oh?” you hum, still struggling with the hook. “can you help me?”

“sure.” he’s more than happy to help you hook your necklace—a chance to put his hands on you? he’ll take it gladly.

“so about that dinner..” his hands swiftly clasp your necklace around your neck. “are you coming or what?”

“i don’t know… the mikage reo taking me out?” you grin up at him. “im a little shy.”

you and reo laugh soundly, well, looks like you’ve got a date tonight.

rin couldn’t believe it.

he’s in love with you, playback—he’s in love.

it started off with smaller details, like how he would leave his soccer practice or gym earlier than usual to see you. and also how his messages app slowly started to become his most used app.

soccer wasn’t everything anymore, he had you too now.

“don’t make me waste money on this lukewarm shit ever again.” rin gruffed as he watched you sip the drink he had bought you from the convenience store earlier.

normally, he’d never waste his money on some useless milkshake from the store, that’s not even good for your body. but seeing you contentedly gulp at the fresh taste of your drink, he can’t seem to hold himself back.

“give me some.”

the words slip out of his tongue before he can control them.

“you wanna try?” well he’s definitely colored you surprised now. “come here then, rinnie.”

rin could feel his face slightly heat up at the nickname. he scoots closer to you, snatching the drink from your hand with no warning.

“hey!” you glare at him as he drinks the entire thing in one gulp, definitely not what you anticipated. “that was mine, you were supposed to take a sip.” you huff at him.

rin only rolls his eyes. “i paid for it. ill buy you a new one later.” your eyes sparkle at his words.

“fine, you win.” you smile. “im going to get going before you become grumpy and tell me to shoo.” you give him a teasing wink, about to get up from his couch when suddenly he grabs your arm.

“wait.” he grits his teeth, biting back words. “don’t go.”

“rin?”

“just, don’t.”

“you missed me, huh?” karasu smirks. he had his hair down, for once not put up with an insane amount of gel—karasu in all his glory.

“i didn’t.” you huff at him. “you look even uglier with your hair down.”

“yer’ comparing my beauty to your birds nest?” karasu crosses his arms, leaning against the door.

“oh, we can see them split ends girl.” you roll your eyes.

karasu has always loved bantering with you, but nowadays, it seems as if his heart has been telling him thats not the only reason his heartbeat speeds up whenever he’s around you.

he loves bantering with you, he loves you.

there’s a prolonged silence, kaiser’s anticipating if he should say what he’s about to say. he usually isn’t this nervous—you’re the exception to that.

“you think you wanna go out sometime, yeah?” it’s the way his sharp eyes soften that makes your heart start doing flips.

“yeah, i do.”

there’s a moment of comfortable silence, your brain ingraving the memory in the back of your head. which of course, quickly gets ruined by his cocky smirk. he wasn’t the best at dealing with these moments

“even y’can’t resist my charm.” karasu sticks his tongue out at you. “ill pick you up at 9.”

“you… get back here!”

shidou could feel a wide grin on his face as he read your message—“sure, i’d love to go sky diving with you!”

anybody would of said that is a crazy idea for a first date, but you? you can say you definitely match his freak.

his heart explodes into a burst of enthusiasm whenever you’re around him. he can feel a rush of serotonin whenever you accidentally brush your hands against his.

oh he was so in love. he is definitely wifing you up when you deploy the parachute- how could he not when he feels like he’s going to explode with all these bottled up feelings.

he in fact had a very disappointed pout on his face when you said it was far too soon for marriage, so what if you’re not dating yet? you can start now!

your betrayal will not be forgotten. but hey, he can try again next year.

sae realised he’s in love with you when you started becoming an avid figure in his daily routine.

it was like muscle memory for him to wake up and check for your good morning text, never failing to emit an amused scoff from his lips.

of course, he acknowledged the fact that he was in love with you. but would he dare entertain the thought and risk the beloved friendship you already have? never.

“nobody’s looking.”

this was dangerous. he has you trapped against the wall in the locker room, his lips tantalisingly close to yours. he wasn’t suppose to be doing this—but how could he resist when you came to see him at practice?

“sae…we can’t here.” you try to be rational, but your breathing is just as heavy as his.

“just shut-“

footsteps. someone was coming. sae pushes you away behind a locker so nobody see’s you, leaning against the wall nonchalantly.

maybe next time he’ll get you.

kaiser took some time to notice his feelings, but even he started getting self conscious of all the excuses he started making to touch you, and the flirting was starting to cross a few boundaries as well.

maybe he’s just lust-driven, that’s all he thought for a while. he chose to distance himself, and you didn’t miss the change in his behaviour.

he thought distancing himself would help ease his feelings.. not make them worse.

he can feel his heart throbbing, mind full with only thoughts of you—is it love or is it lust?

he doesn’t know, he’s never felt like this before. what even is love? thats stupid.

“hey.” he smirks, grasping your hand, a habit of his by now. “what are you up to, schatz?” the light-hearted pet name rolls off his tongue smoothly.

“michael.” you look at him, eyes widening a little. “i haven’t seen you in forever.” his expression slightly wavers at that.

“oh i’ve been.. busy.” he lies, smiling. the truth is, he hasn’t been busy at all. he’s been avoiding you, you and your precious smile.

“its okay.” you pat his shoulder. “i just missed you.”

“i missed you too.” he blurts out unknowingly, slightly flinching at what he said. “i’ve been avoiding you.” he confesses.

your eyebrow’s slightly raise at that. “…why?”

“because.. i don’t know.”

your hands hesitantly reach out. you knew how he was about physical touch, but maybe just this once he needs it.

he bents down a little, his face hitting your shoulder as he reciprocated your hug.

“Ich liebe dich.”

apologies, some parts aren’t as long as the others. i got lazy ( and have favorites… ✌️) only 7 chrc bc i had no ideas for isagi

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covenofagatha · 22 hours ago

Note

If your requests are still open could you do jealous fem! Reader x Agatha?? With there still being an age gap where reader is in her mid 20s maybe reader is her grad student or assistant? Honestly you could do whatever and I’d be thrilled. But Agatha is hit on by a colleague in front of reader at some kind of work/ school event and Agatha indulges the colleague because she sees the jealousy and Agatha is so surprised that reader takes control to show her that she’s just as much reader’s as reader is hers that Agatha lets her. Only for Agatha to return the favor so sweetly and tenderly because she’s never been so thoroughly loved and claimed before? So super hot sex with fluffy feelings at the end? If your requests are closed I totally get it! ❤️

Hope you enjoy!

A lesson in jealousy (Part 2)

Agatha notices that you get jealous when she's talking with a coworker at a Christmas party and uses it to her advantage

Word count: 2600

Warnings: oral, fingering, smut, fluff, jealousy, reader tops Agatha finally, semi-public sex

It hasn’t even been ten minutes at the History department’s Christmas party and you’re already bored out of your mind.

You had agreed to “accompany” Agatha (even though you had to pretend to be nothing more than her student) because you were trying to make a point about how you do things for her but she doesn’t do anything that you want to do.

And now you are sorely paying for it.

Since your whole relationship has to be kept under wraps, you can’t really talk to her that much so you’re forced to walk around the room, pretending like you’re interested in mingling.

You can still feel her eyes on you though. You make polite chatter with some old classmates and professors, stuff some appetizers into your mouth, and try to think of a good enough reason to go stand next to Agatha the rest of the night.

But it seems like every time you look over at her, she’s occupied in a conversation with someone else and you know she would be furious if you interrupted her because your brain is slowly turning to mush. You’re seriously considering pretending that you threw up so you can go home, but to your surprise, Agatha beckons you with her finger the next time you glance her way.

You walk as fast as you can to the corner where she’s moved to and her light touch to your arm makes you want more.

“How’s it going, baby?” She asks, amusement dripping from her tone like she knows how much you want to leave.

You shrug nonchalantly. “Pretty good, you know. Catching up with some friends, eating some food, drinking some wine. But you look like you’re having an awful time, do you want to leave yet?” You try not to sound too eager with your quip and she smirks.

“Aw, my poor pet wants to go home?”

You hate how much that turns you on but you reluctantly nod. “Can we please leave soon?” Your voice creeps an octave higher toward the end of your plea.

“Shh,” she says, waving a hand dismissively. “If you can behave for ten more minutes, we can leave and I’ll give you a reward.”

Your eyebrow raises. “A reward?”

She nods slyly and your mind takes off with that, imagining all of the things she could do.

“Okay,” you breathe and she smiles triumphantly. Just as you’re about to ask for some details to tide you over, a younger (younger than Agatha, at least) woman walks over holding two drinks, hips swaying. She’s tall and slender, with dark hair and hazel eyes, and she’s an attractive lady.

“Agatha,” she says pleasantly, holding out one of the glasses. She doesn’t even look at you.

“Rio,” your girlfriend replies. She accepts the drink a few seconds later. Agatha’s eyes flick to yours and then back to the other woman.

“Don’t you look lovely tonight? Is this a new dress?” You have to bite your tongue when Rio stretches out her fingers and strokes the fabric on Agatha’s waist.

“Couldn’t wear something old to the best party of the year,” Agatha answers dryly. Rio rakes her eyes up and down her body so obviously and you scoff involuntarily.

Both women look at you, Rio like she’s seeing you for the first time. Agatha has a glint in her eyes but you can’t tell what it is.

“Rio, this is y/n. I taught her two years ago. One of my best students. Rio teaches Ecological History.”

You nod, not even pretending to be interested in the introduction. Rio also looks like she doesn’t care and she turns back to Agatha.

“Anyways, what are you doing all the way over here? Why don’t you come over to where the real party is?” Rio asks and leans in close so she can whisper something in Agatha’s ear, who laughs like it’s the funniest thing she’s ever heard.

You dig your nails into your palms so hard that your knuckles turn white. You wait for Agatha to say something along the lines of getting ready to leave, but much to your chagrin, she doesn't.

“Oh, well I couldn’t miss that,” Agatha says, excitement in her voice. Your jaw drops as she breezes right past you with Rio, not even sparing you a second glance. You follow like you’re in a trance and watch the esteemed professors of Westview University playing cup pong. With water, of course, and they’re not drinking it.

Once the men playing currently finish, Rio pulls Agatha up to the table and they start playing against the winners from the previous game. You can almost feel your blood boiling at how touchy Rio is being, and how Agatha doesn’t seem to mind at all.

You end up staying at the party until the end, because Agatha has clearly forgotten about you and you’re sure as hell not leaving her alone with Rio, who trails after her like a lost puppy.

A lost puppy you’d like to kick.

Finally, everyone starts to leave and you awkwardly linger by the door while you wait for Agatha. The house of the party is one of the tenured professors on campus, so you could walk to your dorm, but you want to have a word with your girlfriend.

Your girlfriend, who is still talking to Rio. They’re laughing and walking over to the door, arms brushing against each other and you see red.

“Professor Harkness,” you cut in, having had enough. Agatha looks at you for the first time in almost an hour, a smirk pulling at the corners of her mouth. “Can I talk to you about something?”

She raises an eyebrow knowingly and turns back to her new best friend. “I’ll see you after the break. Happy holidays,” she says to Rio, who returns the sentiment and leaves.

You finally feel like you can breathe again.

“What’s up?” Agatha asks, moving to hold the door open for you so you can step outside. And that sets you off.

“‘What’s up?’ Maybe if you had bothered to even talk to me at the party you would know. Oh, wait! That’s right. You were too busy flirting with your co-worker.”

Agatha chuckles and it only makes you more mad. You stomp off in the direction of her car in the parking lot and you get great satisfaction from hearing her increased footsteps as she tries to catch up to you.

It’s late enough that no other cars are in the lot and she parked next to some trees and there’s enough shadows to hide you from everyone.

Agatha calls your name but you ignore her, instead opting to keep walking until you’re on the other side of the car by the trees.

“What are you doing?” She huffs, winded, and she lets out a gasp when you push her against her car. Her hands come up to touch you but you slap them away.

“No touching,” you say, voice low. She looks taken-aback, but also kind of turned on.

Good.

“You know,” you ponder. “You spend a lot of time making sure I know who I belong to, but clearly not enough time remembering who you belong to.”

She raises an eyebrow and leans in close enough to where your lips are almost touching. “Well then, baby girl, why don’t you remind me?”

Your mouth is on hers the instant she finishes her sentence. Usually, she dominates the kiss but this time you don’t give her a chance to take control. Her hot tongue moves against yours and your teeth click but you lean into her even more, hands coming up to clasp her cheeks.

You feel the vibrations from her moan reverberate inside your mouth and it only stokes the fire inside of you. You trail one of your hands down so you can move inside the blazer Agatha is wearing and squeeze her breast through her skirt. You thumb at her nipple and she makes a sound that is swallowed up by you.

“Please, baby,” she whispers when you finally break apart for air. You don’t break eye contact as your hand drops lower to play with the waistband of her perfectly-tailored pants.

“You want me to fuck you right here against your car in the school parking lot?”

“Do you really think you have it in you?” She taunts and your eyes flash, fingers dipping below and into her underwear. Her knees buckle ever the slightest and you grin smugly.

“You’re so fucking wet,” you say, experimentally moving your fingers up and down her slit. She groans. “Is this for me, or for Rio?” When you say the other woman’s name, you give her clit a hard swipe and Agatha’s head falls back. “Cause it really seems like the two of you were hitting it off, so I can go give her a call and she can come and finish the job if you’d like.”

Agatha furiously shakes her head. “It’s all for you, baby.” Her hips start to grind, wanting more from you. “Please, fuck me.”

It’s not often that you can make Agatha Harkness herself beg. And it makes you really fucking turned on.

You position two fingers right at her opening and stand on your tiptoes so you can purr right in her ear: “Who do you belong to?”

“You, sweetheart, only you,” she pants and her mouth drops open as you roughly thrust into her. You scrape your teeth against her collarbone and curl your fingers just the way she likes, palm bumping her clit with every push. Small moans are falling out of her every time and the feeling of her warm, wet walls around you is absolutely euphoric.

“That’s right, Agatha,” you grunt, fucking into her even harder. You maneuver your thumb to rub at her clit so it gets more attention. She clenches on your fingers but you keep moving them quickly. “You’re mine. You’re all mine and Rio or anyone else can’t have you. You. Belong. To. Me.” You punctuate those words with particularly hard thrusts and you can feel Agatha getting closer, whether it’s from your fingers, your words, or the environment where you’re having sex.

You assume it’s a mix of all three.

“Are you going to cum for me?” You say, feeling the rhythm of her hips getting sloppier and her throbbing around you.

“Yes, baby, going to cum all for you,” she moans and wraps her arm around your neck to kiss you. You instantly kiss back, even though you told her not to touch, and she cums all over your hand, her teeth sinking into your lip at the pleasure she feels.

You slow down your pace as she comes down from her high and when she slumps against the car, you pull your fingers out entirely and hold them up to her. She gives you a wicked smirk and takes them into her mouth, bobbing her head up and down and flicking her tongue around you.

It feels like there’s a wire running straight from your fingers to your cunt. Your jaw drops and you just stare at her like she hung the moon in the sky.

She finally lets your fingers go with a wet pop and gives you a messy kiss so you can taste her too.

Agatha pulls away quickly and rests her head on yours with a laugh. “Sweetheart, if I had known that this is what happens when you get jealous, I would’ve been messing with you from the very beginning.”

“Wait, what? You were just–” You trail off, your brain scrambling to connect the dots.

She laughs. “Of course, baby. You think I was actually flirting with Rio? I saw how mad you were getting when she first came over and I wanted to see what would happen. I had no clue you’d be so hot when you’re in control.”

You’re flustered beyond words at the moment and she draws you in for a big hug.

“I’m all yours, baby. Let me show you?”

Her question confuses you a little – you’re not really sure what she’s asking – but you nod anyway. You trust her with your life. She steps away and opens the door to the backseat and motions for you to get in.

You obey and climb all the way to the other side and you’re only more bewildered when she gets in and shuts the door behind you. Before you can ask, though, she grabs your hips and angles you so that you’re leaning against the car door, one leg off the seats and the other heel resting over the top of them. You’re spread open with Agatha between you and her hands stroke your thighs, pushing the hem of your dress up further each time. You feel a tug in your gut and your hips jump at her featherlight touch.

“You did so well for me, baby,” she says softly, rubbing her fingers up and down your clothed slit, pushing into your hole ever so slightly. Your underwear is so wet and you can smell it. “I completely and wholeheartedly belong to you. I’m all yours and I love you so much, sweetheart.”

She moves your underwear to the side and softly drags her tongue through your folds and your back arches off the car door. It’s not the most comfortable position, but with Agatha’s head between your legs, you couldn’t care less.

“Agatha,” you groan, grinding on her face. You’re already so close from making her cum and you know it won’t take long for you. Her tongue swirls around your clit and she gently sucks it between her lips. You keen and your hand finds its way down to her hair to hold her in place. “You feel so good.”

“You make me feel so good, baby, I’m just returning the favor,” she murmurs against your cunt and the vibrations have your head falling back against the window. “You’re so fucking perfect, make me feel so loved, you’re so hot when you’re claiming me.” It’s like she’s talking to herself and you can barely discern what she’s saying, but you get the point.

“Agatha, baby, please, gonna cum,” you chant, hips rolling faster against her mouth. You can feel the tension building up in your body in every crack and crevice. Seeing the older woman so soft like this is affecting you more than you thought it would.

“Cum for me, baby,” she says, sucking hard on your clit one last time and the dam inside you breaks and pleasure floods through you. You say her name like it’s a prayer as you cum all over her mouth. She licks you softly until you’re pulling her off her and then she kisses you deeply. “I’m yours, but you’re all mine, too,” she says matter-of-factly.

“All yours, baby. As if I could ever belong to anyone else,” you reply happily, squirming a bit at the tenderness.

She smiles genuinely and you think, not for the first time, how lucky you are that someone as perfect as her noticed you. “I love you, baby. So much.”

“I love you, too, Aggie. So much.”

She helps you get out of the car and into the passenger seat and then takes you back to her house, never letting go of your hand the whole way there.

#agatha harkness x fem!reader #agatha harkness x reader #agatha x reader #agatha x you #agatha harkness x you #kathryn hahn x reader #agatha harkness smut #agatha smut #agatha all along

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cosmicanakin · 2 days ago

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quick lil thanksgiving SOLDIER BOY drabble 🍁

YAP SESH! there might be a few mistakes from how fast i was typing this while eating lol & some warnings i might've missed. so, do let me know if you see any <3

୨ৎ JENSEN'S LIBRARY.

thanksgiving with ben was quiet, just the way he liked it. no family, no friends, no bullshit—just his girl and a bottle of bourbon on the table. he'd insisted on a small dinner, something simple, and you were happy to oblige. but as you're sitting across from him, laughing softly at one of his sarcastic remarks, you notice the way his gaze lingers on you a little too long, a little too hungry.

"what?" you ask, raising a brow, still mid-bite of your food.

he smirks, leaning back in his chair, his thick arms crossed over his chest. "just thinkin' how fuckin' pretty you look tonight. sittin' there in that little dress like you didn't know what was gonna happen."

you roll your eyes, but your heart skips a beat. "ben, it's thanksgiving. can't we just get through dinner for once without you—"

before you can finish, he's already on his feet, rounding the table. you barely have time to react before he grabs you, his large hands sliding under your thighs to lift you out of your chair.

"jesus christ, ben!" you gasp, laughing breathlessly as he sets you down on the dining table, plates clattering as he pushes them aside without a care.

"what?" he mocks you, his voice low, rough, and full of that cocky charm. "can't help it, doll. you're sittin' there lookin' like dessert." his hands are already sliding up your thighs, pushing the hem of your dress higher and higher until it's bunched around your waist.

"ben, the food—"

"fuck the food." his grip tightens as he yanks your panties down your legs and tosses them over his shoulder. "this is what i'm thankful for."

before you can argue, his mouth is on you, hot and wet as his tongue drags through your folds. you suck in a sharp breath, your hands flying to his hair, tugging at it as he buries his face between your thighs. he groans against you, the vibrations making your toes curl as he sucks on your clit, his beard scratching deliciously against your sensitive skin.

"goddamn," he mutters, pulling back just long enough to look up at you, his lips glistening. "you taste s'fuckin' good, baby."

you whimper, your head falling back as his tongue dives back in, licking and teasing until your legs are shaking around his head. but then he growls, low and frustrated, pulling away abruptly.

"fuck this," he mutters, standing up and fumbling with his belt. "these fuckin' pants—" he tugs them down impatiently, his cock springing free, thick and hard and already leaking.

"ben—" you start, but he's already lining himself up, grabbing your hips and pulling you to the edge of the table.

"you got somethin' t'say, sweetheart?" he taunts, his smirk widening as he thrusts into you in one smooth stroke, filling you completely. your gasp turns into a moan, your nails digging into his arms as he sets a bruising pace.

"fuck—you feel so good," he groans, his hands gripping your hips so tight you're sure they'll be bruises tomorrow morning. "been thinkin' about this all fuckin' day. you, laid out like this, takin' me so fuckin' well.”

you're a hot mess beneath him, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the room alongside your moans. his thrusts are quick, steady, relentless, leaving you no room to catch your breath as he fucks you hard and deep.

"ben—fuck—too much—" you whimper, trying to push at his hips, but he grabs your wrists, pinning them above your head with one hand.

"nah, baby," he growls, leaning down to press his forehead against yours. "you can take it, like the good girl you are. i know you can."

his free hand slides between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing tight circles that send you spiraling. you cry out, your back arching off the table as your orgasm crashes over you, your walls clenching around him.

"that's it," he groans, his pace faltering as he chases his own release. "fuckin' love watchin' you fall apart f'me."

he thrusts into you one last time, burying himself deep as he comes, his groan low and guttural. for a moment, the only sound in the room is your ragged breathing as he rests his forehead against yours, his grip on your wrists loosening.

"happy fuckin' thanksgiving, babydoll," he mutters, a lazy grin spreading across his face as he kisses you, slow and full of love for you.

you laugh breathlessly, shaking your head. "you're unbelievable."

"yeah," he smirks, pulling out of you and stepping back, "but you love me."

and as you lay there, still trembling from the intensity of it all, you can't exactly argue with that.

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paigeluvvr · 3 days ago

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roles switched

summary: paige let you guys switch roles

warnings: SMUTTT!! fingering giving head hair pulling squirting strap on sex overstimulation

paige x reader

you and your girlfriend was going out tonight with her teammates. you didn’t want to go but the thought of drinking got you. “babe you almost ready?” paige asks you coming into talks shared bedroom. “yeah i’m done, how do i look?” you ask paige “fucking amazing baby, can i have a 360?” you understand why she would want this because you are literally dressed like a slut right now. “yeah” you say as you begin to turn around. she grabs your ass while your in the middle of turning. “now can i have a kiss?” “you don’t have to ask.” paige says and kisses your lips.

the bar has this energy that is booming and you can see, smell, and hear it. so you know there will be a headache coming in sooner or later. so you go to the bar and order you and paige’s drink. “how can i help you ma’ma?” the bartender asked you. “um can i have a shirley temple and a vodka soda.” “yes i will have that right with you miss.” “thank you.”

you go back to the booth they are all at to give paige her drink and sit down. “here you go baby.” she looks at you surprised “thank you baby but i didn’t have to buy this for me.” she tells you. “i know i just wanted to do something nice.” she gets out of her seat to kiss you on the lips.

“babyyy” paige comes to your seat and you can already tell she had way more drinks then needed. “yes baby?” you say to her “can we leave i’m starting to feel sick and i have a headache.” she tells you and you feel bad because she looks as what she says. “aww baby yes we can leave, do you want to tell the girls bye?” you ask her. “no can you just text them i don’t fell good.” you tell her ok and yall walk out of the bar.

“baby i don’t feel so goo-.” paige tells you before she throws up into a trash can. “paige baby are you okay?” you ask her and she keeps throwing up. after what felt like hours she finally says “ok baby now we can actually leave.” so you walk her to the car and she says she ok to drive and you trust her. “baby can i have a kiss?” “i would love too but you just vomited everywhere so no sorry.”

yall are back at home for about an hour when paige says “baby can you top me tonight?” you looked at her surprised because you didn’t think she would let you top her. “um yeah if you want me to.” you tell her and she gets supper happy. “yay i can’t wait.” she tells you and that is what makes you say “we can do it tonight right now.” “oh my god yes!” she tells you as you get up and drag her to yalls shared bedroom to fuck her. “baby i need you so baddd.” paige tells you. “really how bad?” you ask her and she shoves her boxers down to show you how bad. “oh my gosh p your soaked.” “i know ma that’s how bad i want you and how much you turn me on.” she says so you waste no time in pushing her down on the bed. “OH FUCK!” paige says as you suck on her clit. “does that fell good baby?” you tease paige and she nods but you won’t accept that. “words baby.” “ye-s fuck it fe-els so go-od.” she says so you go faster. “oh god.” you can tell she’s close because her moans are turning into screams. “i’m cummin-g s-o hard.” she is now gushing in your face and her hands are pulling your hair so hard it might bleed. “good girl.” you tell her has she sits up and your up too.

you come back from the closet with a black box that you and her know to well. “ma i hope you don’t think your fucking me with that.” she says to you. “baby yes i am i’m topping you so i get choose what i do.” you tell her because you do have control so you strip out of your clothes and attach the harness on your waist. you waste no time in shoving the strap into her cunt so she lets out a cute little squeal. “baby!” you start slow so she can get use to the feeling. now that she is used to the feeling you are plowing into her at a pace that is deadly.

“oh god!” paige says as you pound into her like you’ve been doing for the past 15 minutes. she has already came 7 times going in her eighth according to her. “you gonna cum again?” you ask her teasing her. “y-eah.” she says and you can feel how tight she is so you pull out of her edging her. “baby why did you stop.” she asks you so you say “wait baby.” you get off the bed and head over to your bed side table that has a drawer full of vibrators. you pull out the biggest one and he eyes widened but your already putting it on the highest setting and placing it on her clit. “it’s too much.” she tells you and you don’t care. “i’m gon-na cum!” and just like that she is gushing and you notice something else. paige bueckers just squirted on you. “holy shit am i pissing?” she asks you and you laugh. “no baby you squirted that was hot.” she turns red from that.

after yall clean up and stuff yall lay back down. “goodnight baby i love you.” you tell her “goodnight ma i love you more and can you top me more?” she asked which earns a slap on the arm. “owwww”

finally finished this after forever…😫

taglist: @sierrale8ne @thaatdigitaldiary @lovegalor333 @lupinqs @paiges-1vur @avvwritesstufff @moshuka @paigebueckersmommy @azzibuckets @writingbuckets @ohbueckers @cosmopretty @bbydoll18xx @pb524830 @pbnbucks

#paige bueckers #uconn wbb #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers fic #paige x reader #paigeluvrr #tallyn fics ✨

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lucygraysboy · 1 day ago

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pale blue eyes continue to watch the beautiful brunette with a combination of amusement and adoration, thinking how lucky he is to be sitting here with her. jokes aside, she really could have gotten married. a lot of their classmates are already on their second child. it’s a miracle he’s getting yet another chance to get this right. “right back at you, lucy gray baird. you’re one of a kind.” he’d know. after all, there was a time when he was actively searching for a replacement and failed miserably. there’s no one like her. listening intently, billy occasionally nods his head but doesn’t try to interrupt lucy gray. he’s silently taking notes, learning what exactly it is that she wants from life and wondering how he’s going to give it all to her. romanticize life. it can’t be all that difficult, not when he’s already romanticizing every moment they spend together. “not sure if we can plan a trip to hawaii now,” he chuckles sheepishly, shaking his head because she’s just so adorable, daydreaming about this fairytale-like life while looking at him with these big, bambi eyes, “but i’ll do my best to make sure your stay in new york is better than any disney movie we’ve ever watched.” it’s a big promise, but he’ll live up to it. he can definitely take her ball dancing or somewhere snowy, his brain already coming up with a bunch of little surprises that hopefully will make her feel special. like a princess. “thank you. the dessert’s always the best part, my favorite,” he laughs, finishing the chocolate cake in two seconds and leaning back, feeling his own stomach bulging a little. hand resting on the belt buckle, as if to keep it from giving way. “if they’re still there, that sounds real good to me. i’m free tonight, no other plans. i’m all yours,” he laughs, briefly wondering if he should ask her to join him for that mini premiere gala / press conference tomorrow, but figuring it would be a bad idea for a multitude of reasons. “i’m booked tomorrow, and then the day after tomorrow, i’m flyin’ back home.” so tonight is really all they have. “but i’m up for anything today.” he catches the waitress’ eye, smiling softly and indicating he’d like to get the bill.

"well, i agree." but luckily they aren't marry anyone else so far. or maybe that would be a devastating thought... then again, didn't she tell herself she just wanted to be friends? yes she did. "a really good way, billy bonney." lucy gray responds affectionately. "no, i like work," to start off clarifying, since her mama has always been a hard worker and she took that after her. she loves to work on the farm– tending to crops, planting seeds, harvesting, taking after the horses and other animals, so that's not a problem. "i mean... just to find magic in life, even all the small things too. to romanticize life. that's what i mean by wantin' to live like a fairytale. or well, keep livin' in one. since i've been doing this since i've been little...pretendin' there's somethin' magical to be found everywhere. and do fun things that are fairytale-like. picnics in meadows full of flowers. goin' to a ball and dancin' in a big princess dress. goin' to hawaii and pettin' dolphins. goin' somewhere snowy and warm with tons of christmas lights." those are some magical things close to the magic in fairytales. "that's true, so that's smart of you." smirking proudly, pushing her plate away, "mm-mm," shaking her head, "i can't eat another bite now." putting a hand on her belly, there's a pudge now hanging over her skirt and it's about to start hurting if she forces anything else, "you eat it." she confirms, he can definitely have that last piece. "what do you wanna do? you wanna go play a game at the arcade? i know maudey would love to see you again, if they're still there. then call it a day after some fun there or...? i'm not feelin' sleepy anymore, so i'm up for anything."

#billysgirllol #i love this for him lol he's so oblivious

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masonmontz · 2 days ago

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hellooo everyone :) i hope you like it, this was incomplete for a long time and i did my best to try to get it ready and post it

REMEMBER: english is not my first language

angst/fluff word count: 3,5k

✦‎۟ ࣭ ⊹

It's not that you hate Mason's friends, far from it, but you just... don't fit into their lifestyle.

You and Mason have been together for a few months now and yet you still feel out of place in his reality, especially since his friends act like you don't exist. You actually enjoy talking to them and you think they're fun, but it annoys you when they invite Mason to parties as if he were single, or talk about other girls in front of you and even ask Mason's opinion about them.

Mason never made you doubt his feelings for you, but all of this has been building up and making you stressed.

It was Wednesday afternoon and you were at Mason's house working on your computer, Mason had training and he wouldn't be back for another hour. Erik changed today's training time ‘cause he had an appointment and so Mason would be at Carrington until 7pm. The doorbell ringing startled you, you weren't expecting anyone, not even Mason's family.

You were surprised to see Woody standing at the door of Mason's house with two women behind him, and apparently he thought it was strange that you answered the door.

“Y/n, hey, I didn’t know you were here” Woody spoke and scratched his head, a little embarrassed.

“Hello, Woody. It’s good to see you” you said and then looked at the two model-like women behind him. “Mason is still in Carrington, do you need to talk to him?”

Woody walked up the two steps of the stairs and you let him in, and the two women he was with followed him. Of course, Mason's house is also the house of his best friends.

“Yeah, actually we had planned to go to a party today. It's Stella's birthday” he pointed to the blonde woman in the red dress, and she smiled at you.

“Happy birthday Stella” you smiled at her and turned to Woody again. “He didn't tell me anything, Mason and I arranged to go out for dinner.”

“Well, he confirmed that he's going to the party, I hope you don't mind leaving dinner for another day.”

“No, of course not, I'll just wait for him to arrive so I can change” you said and pointed to the gym clothes you were wearing.

“Actually, Y/n…” Woody started with a tone of voice you didn't like.

“All the seats at the party have been reserved, I can't put any more names on the list, I'm sorry” the brunette woman spoke for Woody, and you were speechless as the three of them stared at you standing in the middle of the living room in Mason's house.

“Yeah, of course” you smiled, even though you were angry at Woody for doing the same thing he always did, acting like Mason was still single.

“I hope you don't mind Mason going alone, but he's my friend and I really wanted him there” Stella said and you agreed. “Oh, Woody said you weren't very nice but you are.”

Woody's eyes widened and you glared at him, watching him swallow hard. You smiled fakely at Stella.

“Yeah, I don't think Woody is very cool either and I hope he knows that” you spoke at the same moment the door opened and Mason walked in, and he heard you talking about Woody. “Have fun tonight.”

You grabbed your computer from the living room table and went upstairs, trying to take a deep breath while knowing everyone was staring at you.

“Woody, what are you doing here, mate?” you heard Mason asking his friend.

“It's Stella's birthday man, you remember how much fun you two had, right?” was the last thing you heard before the bedroom door slammed shut. You took a deep breath once, twice, three times, even though it was difficult.

You were sick of being treated like you meant nothing to Mason, and he wouldn't even tell his friends to stop it, and that was what hurt you the most, he cares so much about his friends that he doesn't realize that you're the one who's getting upset about all this.

You packed your things and put away your computer, there was no way you were going to stay there any longer. You heard laughter from downstairs and it made you even more frustrated with Mason.

It wouldn't be nice to leave Mason's house with all of them staring at you in the living room, but you also didn't want to wait until they left, which could take hours. You honestly wanted to cry, but you hated feeling helpless and crying in front of someone, even if it was the person you gave your heart to.

Fuck him and his friends.

“Mate, I bought a ticket for a party in Ibiza during the international break, we have to go. I bought your ticket too” Woody said to Mason, and you could see that they were sitting on the couch. Mason was in the middle of Woody and Stella.

“I have to ask Y/n if she wants to go and-”

“Bro, she hates us and she won't want to go, you have to go alone, it will be fun.”

“Yeah, I'll think about it” Mason spoke softly and you snorted.

“Who knows, maybe I'll go to Ibiza with you guys? Polly can go too” Stella said and you walked down the stairs, you didn't want them to see you but it was impossible to leave without being noticed. Mason's gaze went to your bags and he noticed that you were leaving.

“Where are you going?” he asked but you didn’t look at him, you continued towards the exit door. “Y/n?”

Mason followed behind you and closed the door when you were both outside, and finally you looked up at him and he saw the tears in your eyes.

“I’m going home” you spoke softly and Mason lost focus for a few seconds. “You can go to the party, I won't stop you from going.”

“You’re going with me.”

“Oh, am I? I’m sorry, your friend was pretty clear when he said that there’s no space for me there” you said and felt a tear fall, but the last thing you wanted was to cry in front of Mason.

“He didn't mean it, you were rude to him and said you don't like him and-”

“What?” you weren't believing what Mason was saying. It wasn't the first time he defended Woody or Declan or Benny from you, and he never defended you the same way to them, he just accepts what they say about you.

“Look, Woody is one of my best friends, you know that. If you love me, then you should like them too because they’re my family.”

“Yeah, you're right. But maybe they don't love you as much since they don't like me.”

“What are you saying?”

“You always let them say whatever they want about me, Mason. You never stood up for me, ever. How do you think I feel when my boyfriend lets his friends talk about other girls or bring women over to his house while I'm here?”

“They are my friends.”

“I have friends too, Mason, and they've never disrespected you the way Woody or Declan do to me. I heard Woody saying that you and Stella had fun, do you think it didn't hurt to hear that? They don't think I'm enough for you?”

“I love you, that's enough” Mason spoke with his hands in his hair, huffing.

“Yeah, only in your dreams will I spend the rest of my life putting up with this.”

“Don't go away, let's talk, there's no reason to make this drama, love” Mason tried to pull you away but you pushed his arm away, shaking your head. “Y/n, please, let's go inside.”

“No, Mason. You don’t understand” you said frustratedly, finally crying and sobbing. “I don't want to hear any more bullshit about other women while I'm around. I don't want to know who you were with before me, they have no respect for me and you don't do anything about it. Declan cheats on Lauren all the time and encourages you to do the same, you think I don't feel stupid? He's a jerk and she should dump him, and it hurts me when you don't say anything about it because you're their child's godfather and you think it's funny that he has been cheating on her the whole time.”

“I don't think it’s funny.”

“So you hide very well that you care about her or Jude” you wiped your eyes, looking at Mason who looked sad. “I really think you're not ready for a relationship, maybe you really love your friends and they’re your priority, but the Mason I knew is not this guy in front of me.”

“Hey, no, c’mon, I love you, I didn't know you felt that way.”

“Exactly, you care more about them than me.”

You turned your back and Mason tried to pull you towards him, but you refused and cried as you walked away. You looked at him one last time and saw Mason's eyes full of tears, but you chose to turn around and leave.

“Y/, don’t go, please.”

“When you realize what's wrong we can talk again.”

Mason watches in shock as you get into an Uber without looking back, it's like he's trapped in a nightmare but he can't do anything because he's tied up. He stood there for several minutes staring at the street until he felt raindrops and went into the house, hearing Woody and the women's laughter as soon as he entered.

“Mase, you can change your clothes now so we can go, what do you think?” Stella asked, but Mason's mind was far away. He looked at Woody sitting on the couch with Polly sitting on his lap, and for the first time in months Mason realized the reasons that made you leave.

“I'm not going, you can go” he muttered before turning his back and heading towards the stairs.

“Mate, what do you mean? Y/n told us to go and have fun” Woody said and Mason turned his face in time to see his friend get up from the couch and walk towards him.

“Shit, Woody, she broke up with me. Please go away now, I don’t want you here for now” Mason realized that you really did leave. He needs to be stuck in his own misery for a while.

“That's why we should go out, man, so you can forget about her, like old times.”

“Get out.”

“What the fuck?” Woody really wasn't understanding Mason, and it pissed him off, because now everything was obvious and Mason was the only idiot who didn't realize he was losing you. “What did Y/n say about me? She's an idiot, don't pay attention to her.”

“Don't you dare talk about her like that again” Mason pointed a finger at Woody, who was startled by Mason's tone. “Get out of here, all of you.”

Mason didn't wait for an answer and went upstairs without looking back, he took his phone out of his pocket and called you, but you didn't answer any of the times he called, nor did you even respond to the several messages apologizing that he sent.

Mason threw himself on the bed and sighed, how could he be so stupid? It was all so obvious in front of him, but Mason was more concerned about his friends than the woman he loves.

He called more than twenty times and you didn't answer any of the calls, nor did you respond to his multiple messages apologizing. Mason's heart raced as he thought he may have lost you forever because he was childish and stupid.

Panic washed over him and Mason gasped, he ran his hands through his hair in despair and anger. Mason couldn't blame you for deciding to leave, he understands, but saying his heart wasn't hurting was a lie. Mason never felt that way, ever.

A tear ran down his face, then another and then another, and before Mason knew it he was sobbing and thinking about everything you had said to him. It was so stupid that he didn't realize how you felt about Woody or Declan, and Mason couldn't even judge you, because in all these months he really was a terrible boyfriend and only now could he realize it.

He actually let his friends take him to parties, he didn't mind when Woody brought women to him, and Mason never thought about hooking up with them, but now he realized that he wasn't respectful and broke the trust you had in him. And what about Declan? Mason couldn't even think about his best friend having sex with multiple women while he has an amazing person at home waiting for him, plus a son who is the most beautiful child Mason had ever seen.

Mason feels ashamed that he never said anything to Declan, and he feels ashamed that he didn't protect Lauren and Jude. And he is ashamed because you don’t trust him and broke up with him because of the things he did.

“Please, please, answer me.”

Another rejected call. Mason is about to despair.

✦‎۟ ࣭ ⊹

It's been two weeks since you and Mason broke up, and honestly it's been really hard to go through the days without talking to him and trying not to think about him.

You failed every day, of course.

Mason respected the message you sent asking him not to call you, but deep down you wished he hadn't given up. Every day you wonder if he's out partying with Woody, having women all over him and falling in love with the smile you love. It breaks you every time.

“It's not an exaggeration if he listed all his friends as if they were more important than you” Kiera murmured while you were lying down watching a movie, she went to your house because she didn't want to sleep alone, her boyfriend was traveling and would be back the next day. “Honestly, I love Mason, maybe this will make him realize what he did wrong and you guys can get back together.”

“Yeah, but I think he realized he prefers parties and Woody, he didn't call me anymore.”

“You asked him not to call you.”

“I know, but that would show me that he cares about me. Am I wrong?”

“Of course.”

“Do you think I should call him?”

“You miss him, right? You want him to call you but you asked him not to, he is just doing what you asked and respecting your time, if you are ready to talk, talk to him.”

“Yeah, I think you're right.”

But you didn't call, not the next day or the day after that. You knew Mason was traveling with the team because the next game was far away, and you didn't want to take your problems to him.

You missed him so much you could cry. You missed him when you woke up in the morning and missed his kisses on your neck, you missed having breakfast next to him and laughing at his stupid jokes, you missed him bothering you or lying next to you just watching some movie that neither of you paid attention to.

It was very cold in Manchester and the streets were already starting to have Christmas decorations, and that made you happy, it's the best time of the year. You went out for a walk in the late afternoon, the sun was setting and some people were walking along the streets.

It was crazy, but you swore you saw Mason's car parked at the pie shop when you were at the door, your favorite in the whole town. Mason also knew how much you liked chocolate pie, and he would always buy you a pie when he passed by.

But it wasn't crazy, ‘cause Mason came out carrying a box of pie just as you were about to climb the stairs to enter the store. You could have fallen if you weren't holding onto the railing, and Mason's eyes widened when he saw you.

He looked so handsome, his hair cropped because of the cut on his head, and he was wearing sweatpants and slippers. You couldn't help but smile when you saw his comfortable clothes.

“Did Ace eat all your sneakers?”

Mason breathed a sigh of relief when you asked, and the smile he gave you melted your heart.

“It would be too much work to put on sneakers, I preferred to go out like this” he walked down the two steps and stopped in front of you, your heart raced and you could feel your own hands shaking. Oh my God, it's Mason, why are you nervous?

You were silent for a few seconds, but Mason didn't take his eyes off you.

“So… how are you?” you asked, and Mason pulled you aside as a couple walked out of the pie shop. His touch on your arm sent you over the moon, and that was enough for you to realize that the time you needed was over.

“Honestly? I'm a mess” he confessed and you felt a pang of guilt, but you knew he needed that time too. “Do you want to talk here? Are you ready?”

“Hum- no, yes, I’m ready, but I don’t want to talk here” you spoke and he agreed. “We can go to my house. Are you going to take the pie to someone?” you pointed to the box in his hands.

“No, I bought it for myself” Mason scratched his head in embarrassment and you raised your eyebrows. “I don't know, chocolate pie reminds me of you and I was missing you.”

“Just like I'm watching Game of Thrones like crazy, then.”

“Oh, you said it was boring” he accused you, grinning, and you shrugged as you followed Mason to the car.

“You know I only watch ‘cause of Daenerys” you stopped next to Mason as he opened the car door for you, his scent reminded you of how much you missed him and you couldn't help but hug him, almost making him drop the pie box.

“I wasn't expecting that” he murmured as he left a kiss on your hair, hugging you with just one arm and you held his waist tightly, afraid that he would leave. “Oh God, I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too, sorry” you let go of him and smiled, feeling like a part of you was whole again.

You walked in silence to your house, and even so it wasn't bad, the smile you both had on your lips already said a lot.

“My mum is missing you, she almost hit me for not taking you to London with me on the international break.”

“Did you tell her what happened?” you asked as you grabbed two plates for you two to eat the chocolate pie that looked delicious.

“No, I said you were busy” he sighed and shrugged, but Mason still looked wary. “I was a bad boyfriend, Y/n, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not. I should never have put other things first, you are the most important person to me and I hate myself for disappointing you and making you distrust me.”

You just looked at Mason. He wasn't the same man you left three weeks ago, the man in front of you recognized his own mistakes, and that was clear and enough for you.

“I'm sorry for the things you went through, I was an idiot and didn't realize it. I should never have let Woody take those women to my house or treated you the way he did, I should have stood up for you.”

“It's okay, I forgive you.”

Mason sighed in relief when you approached him, and this time he hugged you so tightly as if he would never let you go.

And you didn't want him to let you go again.

“I love you. I love you so fucking much, Y/n, oh my God, how did I manage to go three weeks without talking to you or seeing you?” Mason put his hands on your shoulders and shook you, making you laugh.

“I had no one to fetch water for me at night.”

“Did you just miss me because of that? I'm taking this pie home and you're not going to eat it.”

“Actually, I think we can eat while watching Game of Thrones?”

“I knew you liked the series, you just didn't want to admit it to me.”

Mason took the pie into the living room and you grabbed a blanket from your bedroom, ready to snuggle into it for hours and hours. You walked back into the living room and Mason was smiling on the couch as he waited for you, and you couldn't help but smile and feel like everything was okay again.

Mason hugged you as you laid down next to him, he was warm and comfortable and even you didn't understand how you managed to spend so much time away from him.

Mason was your home, and not even so many days away would change that.

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