#it's a wonder i didn't turn into a serial killer

[alter-eden]

i was truly such an unhinged child lmao

i was just looking at an old slambook/journal of mine and saw that in the 'my greatest wish' section, I had written "I want to beat up all of my classmates till they start crying" 😭 I WAS 8 😭😭😭 that was all just bc they ignored me which made me cry and then they called me a crybaby (which truthfully i was)

that rlly sheds some light on why lookism was my fav webtoon when I was 11

[aayakashii]

After a long time, I offer you the sequel to this fic here 🤲

Warnings: *BANGING POTS AND PANS* KUUYA IS A SUBMISSIVE PATHETIC LOSER YANDERE IF YOU DON'T LIKE MALE SUBS YOU MIGHT NOT LIKE THIS!!!! Also: NSFW and yandere themes from Kuuya and the reader; reader is gender neutral and AFAB; 9k words 💀

Kuuya is a @devotion-disorder OC and they gave me permission to write more abt their sad and wet cat <3 I hope you like it!!! The art below is theirs as well!

♡ cannibalism as a metaphor for love ♡

The clock ticked a little bit past 6PM. You frowned as you watched the last rays of sun fade away in the sky, thinking about your house – how you could be wearing your comfortable pajamas, making some greasy popcorn while you watched a bad horror movie.

Instead, all that you had was that non-ergonomic chair, a coffee that had already gone cold and bitter and the glaring blue light of your computer burning your retinas.

You were working overtime.

It’s not a new concept for you per se, not in a black corporation such as the one you worked for. It’s just that on that specific day, it felt like everyone had left the building but you. Every cubicle was empty and the room was incredibly dim – it was anxiety inducing. You turned on as many lights as you could and put some background music to feel less isolated, but the setting simply didn’t help. You were locked in that little dystopian bubble all on your own and no amount of piled up work could make you concentrate properly when it felt like you were in purgatory.

Outside, a loud thunder made the window panes vibrate and you sighed.

“Fuck this” you murmured, getting up. You’d at least make some more coffee. Would you feel even more anxious? Yes. But you needed something to distract yourself with and brewing a new, actually sweetened pot of coffee would have to do.

You briskly walked towards the break room, trying to avoid thinking about the oppressing darkness that surrounded you, staring at your feet. However, you soon slowed down – the door to the office kitchen was closed, and you could see the light was on from the crack under the door. 

Common sense would allow you to come to the conclusion that probably someone else was in the building with you, after all. 

But in that moment, all that blared in your mind were the sirens of dread. Your mind went from thinking that a serial killer was hiding in the pantry to imagining a deadly monster coming to whisk you away before you ever thought about some other colleague being in the building with you.

You crossed your fingers hoping it was just the (possibly hot) monster from another dimension coming to kidnap you and slowly opened the door, ready to run if needed.

Instead, you were met with the curved back and the mop of messy lilac hair of someone you knew oh too well.

“Kuuya?” you called, quietly.

“AH!” he flinched, crinkling the plastic cup he had in his hand and spinning around to look at you. The water he was pouring in his cup splashed on his button up shirt and he looked like a deer caught in headlights.

You raised your hands up, like you would do to a feral animal to show you mean no harm.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to spook you. I didn’t know there was someone else here. I thought I was alone.” you said, entering the room and feeling a little bit relieved to see another sign of life in that somber building.

Even if it was from your cute and creepy little stalker.

Kuuya hurriedly grabbed a napkin and began dabbing at his shirt, nodding silently and avoiding your eyes.

You sighed loudly as you began rummaging the kitchen’s cabinets for all the supplies you needed.

As much as you allowed yourself to indulge in your sick fantasies when it came to him, most of the time Kuuya just frustrated you. You wondered if he would ever try to talk to you. Hell, would he ever even look at you in your eyes for more than a second? It was maddening.

You knew he was far from innocent, no matter how reserved he acted around you. Didn't he literally follow you to your home just to jerk off in the bushes by your window? Where is all that courage when you're right next to him?

You wouldn't mind actually taking the initiative, but most of the time you honestly felt like you were crazy. Maybe you were so horny for that sad wet cat that you were hallucinating. 

Maybe he never went to your house and it was just the wishful thinking of your deeply, deeply perverted mind.

Maybe he actually wanted to run away from you whenever you were around, but you were just too insane so you kept imagining him fisting his cock just because you breathed near him.

Although they do say that insane people never think they're insane.

God! If only he gave you A DIRECT SIGN! A green light! Something that would let you know you can take charge!

No matter how adorable his bashfulness was, he still made you feel like you were kicking a baby animal whenever you addressed him directly. And honestly, that didn't really help his case.

“Are you… okay?” his quiet voice snapped you out of your thoughts and you noticed how you were crouching and staring at a dead empty cabinet for way longer than necessary. You closed the door and got up quickly, clearing your throat.

“We’re out of coffee.” you said, pulling your phone out of your pocket. “I'm gonna order something to eat. Is there anything you want?”

Kuuya was one step away from being malnourished, you noticed. You wouldn't mind putting some food inside that scrawny body.

“Um… No, it’s not necessary… I don’t really have… um… money…”

You waved your hand dismissively as you scrolled through a delivery app.

“That doesn’t matter. I’m paying.”

Kuuya shook his head frantically while waving his hands.

“N-no, I can’t accept that!”

You side-eyed him and he visibly flinched under your glare.

“Even if you don’t tell me what you want to eat, I’m gonna order something for us. We are quite literally stranded here, I’m not going to let you go hungry.” you shrugged.

He fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. God, he was so cute. Why did he act like you would straight up kill him if he said something wrong, though? Were you that intimidating? Well, not intimidating enough to keep him from masturbating right by your bedroom and stealing your stuff, apparently.

“Also” you continued “It’s going to rain soon, apparently. I don't want to make some delivery guy go out in the rain to deliver us food once we’re actually hungry, so I'll just do it now.”

Kuuya opened and closed his mouth, as if he wanted to say something, but nothing would come out. He looked like a little fish, you thought, as you waited for him to say something. When he didn’t after a whole minute, you just shrugged.

“Is chicken sandwich and fries okay with you?”

He nodded, hesitant yet still licking his lips unconsciously at the thought of some good actual food. You figured he was probably very hungry. In fact, you could picture it very clearly: Kuuya getting home and just eating the least nutritious instant noodles in the world, day after day. No wonder he looked so tired all the time. He was probably running low on fuel for way too long.

“Okay. So I’m gonna order those, and also some coffee and cookies. If I'm gonna stay here and be tortured by all the work I gotta do, I wanna at least have something tasty to console me.” you mumbled, more to yourself than anyone else.

And as you placed the order, you ended up missing the little lovestruck smile that quickly appeared on Kuuya’s face.

You had gone back to your cubicle while you waited for your order. Knowing you weren't completely alone calmed your nerves and you managed to work properly for the time it took for your food to arrive.

Once you had all the bags in your hands, you walked back to the kitchen and the door was open just like you had left it. Kuuya was still there, sitting at the table, nursing a tepid cup of water.

“You didn't go back to your work station ?” you said, putting the multiple bags of food on the table, earning a startled yelp from him again. You raised an eyebrow and huffed out a laugh. “You're more skittish than I am.”

He pursed his lips into a thin line, avoiding your eyes.

“S-sorry…”

You shook your head.

“There's no reason to apologize. Here, the food arrived. Let's eat?”

He nodded, hurriedly getting up to help you set up plates and cups down, wobbling a little bit like he had to consciously think about how to walk properly.

You looked at him through the corner of your eye while he washed a few dishes. 

Kuuya always seemed like he was in distress. His shoulders looked tense like a violin string and there was always a little crease on his forehead. His eyebrows were almost always scrunched and raised up, giving him that kicked puppy look to his face that you found so endearing. It made you want to hold him in your arms and massage those little shoulders until they were soft under your fingers, and kiss those worry lines until he relaxed, even if just for a little while.

You clenched and unclenched your fingers, quickly busying yourself with putting the now clean plates on the table, otherwise you'd jump at him as soon as he looked at you with those pink doe eyes that you so deeply wished you could stare at for hours on end.

If only he wasn't so easily frightened.

Soon enough, everything was set on the table, ready for you to eat.

“Alright” you sat down and motioned vaguely towards the food “Dig in! Don’t be shy.”

Kuuya slowly sat down, eyeing the sandwiches like he had never seen food before in his life. Still, he kept his hands to himself and fidgeted on his chair.

“Is something wrong?”

“I- I feel like I should be paying for this. I promise I'll repay you once I get my next paycheck.” he mumbled, looking extremely embarrassed.

You tutted, shaking your head.

“Nonsense. You don't have to pay for anything. Now eat. It'll make me glad if you eat properly. That's how you can pay me back.”

He pouted for a moment, considering your words, then hesitantly grabbed the sandwich, giving it a nibble. His face lit up at the taste of the sandwich and his inhibitions then seemed to go down a little. He took a bigger bite, chewing happily. His chin was slightly smeared with sauce and you smiled.

So fucking cute.

As you ate, you noticed how he kept on shaking and nodding his head in order to move the long lilac bang that covered his right eye away from his mouth. After a few more moments just watching him struggle, you got up from your seat.

“Here, let me help you.” You reached inside your pockets and showed him a hair clip you always kept at hand. You reached out for his bangs, hovering your hand over his hair as if to ask for permission to put the clip on him.

He unceremoniously slapped his hands over his bangs and right eye, hard.

“N-no!” He yelled, sounding terrified.

You jumped, surprised at his uncharacteristic reaction, and raised your arms again, the second time that day.

“Okay, okay. Sorry, I won't touch it. You can put it on your hair if you'd like it, then. No pressure” you said, still offering the hair clip.

He slowly moved his hands away from his eye, shaking as he grabbed the clip from your palm. 

“O-okay…thank you and… sorry…” he mumbled, gripping the clip tightly inside his fist.

“It's no problem. Just… please pin it in a way that will keep your hair from touching your food” you grimaced “That's not really hygienic.”

He clumsily pinned his hair to his scalp, the bangs still completely covering his right eye, but somehow precariously pinned right over his ear. You gave him a nod of approval.

“I guess that's good enough.”

You two continued eating, a painfully awkward silence looming in the atmosphere, as the heavy rain that had threatened to fall all night finally pattered against the windows.

You figured you wouldn't try to break that silence, despite how uncomfortable it was. It was time for him to try and communicate with you too, and if he didnt, well. You wouldn't spread yourself thin just to receive a few nods and indiscernible  mumbles, no matter how adorable he was whenever he was flustered.

Kuuya politely thanked you for the food as he finished eating, right at the same time as you. He pushed his chair, the grating sound against the floor making the both of you flinch. He straightened himself up, as much as his hunched back would allow him to, and cleared his throat.

“I, uh. I have to go to the bathroom. I'll- I'll clean everything up, so you can leave it there. I'll be right- I'll be right back.” He stuttered, eyes flitting everywhere around the corners of the kitchen, except to you. He was tightly grabbing his elbow with his other hand, until he visibly relaxed when you nodded at his words, like he needed your permission, and scrambled out of the room.

You waited a minute or two after he left, before getting up and quickly walking towards the men's bathroom as well.

Yeah, right. Sure. Bathroom.

You might not have known Kuuya that well yet, but you knew one little thing: he was a terrible liar.

You opened the door to the bathroom as quietly as you could, hoping it wouldn't creak and possibly rat you out. When you managed to close it behind you without a sound, you exhaled a breath you didn't even know you were holding.

Stepping slowly and carefully, you walked towards the bathroom stalls and stood still for a second.

Yeah. There it was.

Your mouth quirked up into a pleased smile when you heard the sound of heavy breathing coming from a stall to your left. Gasps and choked out little moans reached your ears and went straight into your core.

Kuuya was jerking off in that bathroom stall.

You licked your lips and kept moving slowly, much like a predator trying not to be seen. You slotted yourself into the stall right beside him and crouched on top of the toilet, effectively hiding your feet from him in case he looked down.

But from the sounds coming out of his stall, he was already way too cumbrained to notice anything around him.

You could hear the sounds of his hand rubbing his cock mercilessly as he groaned, probably a little louder than he should if he was trying to be subtle.

Your breathing became heavy.

You found yourself imagining his hand grabbing his shaft tightly, rubbing his thumb against the angry pink tip of his dick, smearing the beads of precum all over his length. His other hand would be lifting his shirt to pinch and pull at his nipple, eliciting those cute little gasps you kept hearing from where you were standing.

Begrudgingly, you undid your pants’ zipper and shoved your hand into your already leaking cunt.

His moans got louder, the lewd, wet sounds of him fucking his own hand going faster and you thought of how his cock would be twitching, balls heavy with cum tightening as a warning sign that he was about to come undone.

Your fingers circled your clit, eyes closed and mouth agape with a silent moan at how fucking hot he sounded and how filthy you felt for getting off to him without his consent – but it's not like he didn't do the same to you before.

A loud, shaky moan came out of him as he apparently came all over his own hand. You thought of how he would ride his own high, squeezing every last drop of his load out of his cock until the overstimulation would be too much and he'd halt his movements.

You heard him pant heavily, stopping your movements so he wouldn't hear the wet sounds of your pussy. You were so far away from your own high, but listening to his little mewls was more than worth the frustration.

Until he opened his mouth again to moan your name.

“I love you… I love you I love you I love you, fuckfuckfuck I love you so so much.. a-ah fuuuuck…” the sounds of him furiously jerking off reached your ears again and your eyes fluttered shut as you tried to control your breathing.

He kept moaning and whining your name over and over again, probably leaning against the stall's wall as everything began to shake in the same rhythm of his hips.

You bit your knuckle hard, trying to avoid making any sounds while you rubbed yourself, chasing your orgasm to the glorious sound of your pathetic stalker fucking himself silly in your workplace's bathroom.

His whiny, slutty voice sounded like honey, viscous and sweet – something that you would swallow eagerly, leaving your tongue heavy with his syrupy, nauseating taste. 

You bit your knuckle harder as you felt the frustration of chasing a release that would not come, because you desperately wanted to taste him; to glide your tongue over his skin and memorize the salty flavor of his sweat and the musky scent of his body. Anything else would not work for you anymore.

You could eat him whole, truly. You needed your hands and your stomach and your pussy to be full of him. Urgently.

You stopped toying with your clit, allowing the anger of not even having a sad, unsatisfying orgasm wash over your body.

Kuuya seemed to finish much quicker this time, your name in his lips loud as he came a second time.

You looked down and bit your lip, pulling your own hair in frustration – you could see a few drops of his cum drip onto the bathroom floor, pitifully wasted.

Closing your eyes, you forced yourself to breathe deeply and closed your eyes. 

First, you needed to get out of there without him noticing so he wouldn't have a mental breakdown and run away. And then, only after that, you could think of the next steps of your plan.

You allowed yourself to rest your head against the wall, waiting for him to clean himself up and leave.

It was so weird, this desperate attraction you had for Kuuya and how afraid you were of messing everything up. You had your previous crushes before, sure. But nothing was ever as strong as the desire you had to cradle that stupid man in your arms and keep him with you, safe. 

You knew things were different once you found out he was obsessed with you and it still didn't extinguish that little fire inside of your core.

Usually, you'd lose interest in people as soon as they began expressing interest in you as well – you knew it was wrong and you had brought it up during therapy sessions, but it never really bothered you.

Until Kuuya. 

When you confirmed your suspicions (that he was insanely obsessed and even went as far as stalking you) you felt a strange excitement bubble in your stomach – like you had achieved something.

It made you shiver in anticipation for those little moments in which your eyes would meet his and he'd blush furiously, or when you'd purposely brush your hand against his only to watch how he twitched and rubbed his thighs together.

You were addicted to him. You wanted him even more after finding out about his feelings, and that was new to you. That was something you weren't willing to let go.

And with that, came the fear that Kuuya might be just like you. What if he was an emotionally constipated mess like yourself? What if he lost all interest as soon as you gave him an opening? Just because he was different for you, didn't mean you'd be special to him, in the off case he had the same bad habits.

That was why you were so cautious, so slow in your movements. You didn't want him to run. You didn't want to lose the feeling of being reciprocated. You'd protect it the same way you'd protect a tiny flame against the whip of a merciless wind.

But after hearing him moan your name like a needy whore, you didn't think you could hold it in anymore.

Kuuya had already left for a good 5 minutes while you were lost in your thoughts.

You quickly cleaned yourself and walked towards the sinks to wash your hands. You looked at yourself in the mirror of the men's bathroom. Sweat stuck to your forehead and your face looked flush. You were out of breath and your heart beat fast and loud inside your ribcage.

You turned on the sink, splashing cold water against your face and, after you dried up, you stared at your reflection again.

Well. So Kuuya had loudly moaned your name as he fucked his own fist. And you had masturbated to the sounds of his gasps and mumbles of your name.

No matter how paranoid you were – you were very much sure you weren't fucking hallucinating any of that.

“Walk me home?” you went to his desk after you finished the last of the details in your reports, fully intent on taking him with you to your home.

‘It’s now or never’, you thought to yourself.

“S-sorry?” he sputtered.

“Walk me home?" you repeated "The rain stopped, but it's kinda late. I don't want to walk alone. It's too dark.” 

He seemed to consider your request for way too long. Anxiety began bubbling in the pit of your stomach, and, for a moment, you thought it'd be better to just pretend you never asked anything, until he answered you.

“Okay… I can go with you.” he murmured, getting up and grabbing his shoulder bag.

You let out a breath of relief you didn't know you were holding, and smiled.

“Thank you, Kuuya!”

You didn't miss how he bit his lips and shivered at your words.

The walk home was uneventful, as you expected. Kuuya walked by your side and insisted on staying on the road's side of the sidewalk. You praised him for being a gentleman and he became a blushing and stuttering mess, but besides that, he was quiet. 

You arrived at your door and Kuuya hovered right beside you, watching you fumble with your keys.

You weren't very good at hiding your anxiety after all.

Once the door opened, you stepped inside and held it for him.

“Come inside for a moment.” you murmured after clearing your throat.

You watched his throat bob up and down when he swallowed hard. He probably had many questions and, honestly, you couldn't blame him. You had no reason to invite him to your house.

At least not obvious reasons, that is.

He did as you told after a few seconds of hesitation, although he had confusion written all over his face.

“Why… why did you invite me in?” he finally asked while he watched you shrug off your coat and kick off your boots. You motioned for him to take off his shoes as well and leave them beside yours.

“Just something I gotta do.” you answered, observing him clumsily undo the knots on his shoes.

He cocked his head to the side, looking up at you.

“What?”

Once he was finished putting his shoes right beside yours, you beckoned him with your finger, and began walking deeper inside your house and towards your room, hoping he would follow.

He did, dumb shock plastered on his face, but still compliant.

You opened the door and motioned for him to enter. As soon as he was inside, you slammed the door behind you and locked it.

Kuuya's eyes were wide as he quickly turned to look at you. He seemed terrified, the poor thing, but this time you wouldn't back down. You couldn't.

“Shhh, it's okay. No need to be so scared” you shushed him as he opened his mouth, walking slowly towards him. You placed your hand on his chest and pushed him towards your bed.

When he plopped unceremoniously on the mattress, you looked at his pants.

He was already hard.

You smirked.

“Do you know why I brought you here?” you asked in a murmur while you leaned towards his trembling figure, wiping a few stray tears from his cheeks with your thumb and holding your weight over him with your other arm.

“N-no…?”

You cocked your head, actually surprised at his answer.

“Really? Are you really that clueless?” you traced his jaw with your finger, and he squirmed underneath you, rubbing his thighs together to get any friction on the bulge inside his pants.

“I…” he cleared his throat “I don't understand.”

“Well, I, for one, am not clueless you know.” your fingers traced the length of his neck, and you smiled when a few goosebumps pricked his skin.

He gulped.

“I know you jerked off to me earlier today.” you said flatly, with a sickening sweet voice while your finger now teased and rubbed his pebbled nipples through his shirt.

He gasped and you didn't know if it was from surprise or pleasure.

“I also know you followed me some weeks ago and jerked off in that bush outside my window.” you pointed to the window hidden behind your blinds and he followed your gaze, eyes watery and cheeks a bright red.

“And I know you steal my stuff and my trash so you can keep it.” he was still looking at your window when you palmed his bulge through his pants. He arched his back, moaning loudly, and you grinned maniacally at his reaction.

Pretty slut.

“Do you… D-do you think I'm disgusting?” he asked, shamelessly grinding his hips against your palm.

“Yeah, I do. I think you're disgusting and a creep.” he moaned at your words, but his eyes closed tightly, and a few more tears ran down his cheeks. He had a pained expression on his pretty face, like you had hurt his fragile feelings.

Apparently Kuuya knew how to tug on your heartstrings.

You moved your hand away from his pants, fully aware of the damp spot that had formed on the fabric.

“But so am I.” you completed and he opened his eyes wide, looking at you like you had just grown a second head.

“Seeing you so desperate and needy…” you shook your head in defeat “It does things to me, you know.”

“I-it does?” he asked, all doe eyed, blushing and hopeful. You sighed at the sight, trying to burn it forever into your brain.

“Mhm. Yeah. It makes me wanna eat you whole.”

Kuuya shuddered as you placed your hand back on his chest, gliding it towards his throat. You held his neck firmly for a second before you gently cupped his warm and reddened cheek. He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes like a cat.

“Will you let me, Kuuya?” you whispered.

“W-what?” He opened his still teary eyes, gazing at you expectantly.

“Will you let me eat you?”

A beat of silence went by and you almost felt the ugly head of shame peek into your mind, but then he nodded, a single tear falling onto your thumb.

“Y-yes.”

Like a thin thread snapping, you kneeled onto the ground and pulled his waist towards you, letting his legs hang limply on your sides. Your fingers trembled as you undid his belt buckle and you looked at him.

Kuuya was propping himself onto one of his elbows, his other hand covering his mouth as he watched you hastily take off his pants and boxers. His hard cock sprung free, leaking pathetically, and your mouth watered at the sight.

You were starving. 

It was time to eat.

Kuuya felt like he was dreaming. Or maybe he died and his very own heaven (if he would even be allowed there) was having you suck his painfully hard cock.

He forced his eyes to stay open so he could watch you. The way your tongue swirled on his head and pressed mercilessly on his slit – you had barely put his cock inside your mouth and he already felt like he was melting.

He knew he was sounding pathetic. He whined and squirmed against your hands while you kept his thighs open. It was so good, it was feeling so good he was losing control of his body.

When you started bobbing your head, hollowing your cheeks to suck him harshly, he thought he would die. It had to be wrong, to feel this good. It was criminal.

Kuuya moaned like a whore and, deep inside, in the still conscious part of his mind, he wondered if you liked it. He hoped you did, he hoped his pathetic high pitched groans made you soak your panties because he couldn't control them.

Not when you were sucking him so good.

He bucked his hips against your mouth, the sound of your gag snapping him out of his daze for a moment so he could mumble a “sorry”, but then you moaned. 

You moaned and the vibrations of your throat went through his cock and he lost it, completely. He held your head firmly, thrusting frantically into your mouth as he repeated “'m sorry! 'm sorry! 'm sorry!” until the words lost all meaning to him. With a stutter, his hips bucked again and he spilled inside your mouth, his slurred words elongating into a pornographic moan.

You opened your mouth wide, relaxing your throat as soon as his cum began spurting, eagerly swallowing the salty taste of him while he rode his orgasm until he couldn't take the stimulation of your soft mouth anymore. 

As you dabbed the drops of cum that had spilled from your mouth, he suddenly wondered, in the back of his mind, if you already had any practice doing this kind of stuff. He panted, face warm and red, dick twitching while he looked at you wiping your mouth and licking your fingers. And he felt jealous at the thought.

He wanted to be the only one. He couldn't handle the thought of you touching anyone else like that. He hated it. Hated it. He had to be the only one you'd touch like that. God, he wished he could go back in time to prevent you from touching anyone else, just so you'd always be his alone.

A few angry tears pricked in the corner of his eyes and he tackled you to the ground, surprising you with a hug.

“K-kuuya?!” you squeaked, the air leaving your lungs went he laid all his weight on you.

Kuuya began rubbing his cheek against yours, sharing the sweat that stuck to his forehead with your face, making you grimace.

“W-what's wrong?” You asked in a murmur, after reciprocating his hug.

He whined wordlessly and began untangling himself from you, holding himself up by his trembling arms.

And, for a long moment, he just stared at you.

You thought he looked beautiful. 

He wasn't exactly the most handsome man in the world, but to you, he looked angelic.

His lilac hair was disheveled and his face was flushed. His lips were a pretty red, as if he had bitten them too hard, and his eyes were half-lidded and clouded with lust and sheer adoration. It sent tingles down your spine. You wondered if anyone has ever looked at you like that, but you already knew that no one has ever held you in such high regard. It made your heart race and your core burn. 

You could sear the image of him under your eyelids and you would never tire of it.

He was gorgeous.

You tucked a strand of damp hair behind his ear and then cupped his cheek. Your thumb rubbed his skin gently and his eyes fluttered shut. He began leaning against your touch again, before he stopped himself and opened his eyes. You looked at him, puzzled, when he averted his gaze.

“U-um…” he began, after clearing his throat. You kept quiet, allowing for him to continue.

“C-can I… um. Can I eat you too?” He mumbled, closing his eyes tightly. You felt your face tingle at his words and his adorable embarrassment.

“Yes” you murmured and he opened his eyes wide “Yes, please.”

Kuuya quickly sat up on his knees, and looked around, apparently finally realizing you two were laying on the ground.

“Do you… want to move to the bed?” he asked bashfully, and you chuckled.

“Yes, it'd be more comfortable.”

He got up, holding out his hand to help you up as well. He didn't really have enough strength to pull you up, so you just held his hand tightly, not wanting to reject his help, as you gracelessly lifted yourself from the ground.

As soon as you were standing, you began pushing the waistband of your pants down, but Kuuya's hands quickly stopped you, holding you tightly. You widened your eyes as you looked at him.

“I… want to do that.” he said, bashfully.

Wow. Who would have thought he'd be so brazen for once.

You smiled, nodding, and laid on your bed, making yourself comfortable. 

You observed how Kuuya was already rock hard again and he had yet to touch you properly. He was insatiable for you and it made your pussy clench around nothing. 

He was going to be the death of you.

Kuuya, in a sudden development, decided that it didn't matter what happened in the past. What happened, happened. All he needed to do was make you forget about it all.

He needed to be good. He needed to fuck you so good that you'd forget anyone you might have hooked up with in the past. He needed to make you addicted to his tongue, his fingers and his cock so you'd always go back to him for more.

Granted, he didn't know how he was going to do that since he was a literal virgin, but he hoped his enthusiasm would convince you to give him more chances, until he had mapped every little crevice of your body and all the little buttons that made you squirm.

Kuuya licked his lips, slowly pulling the hem of your pants down while he kneeled on your bed. The sight of your soaked panties made him gasp loud, and he had to grip the base of his cock tightly, hissing as he threw his head back. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down while he swallowed hard, concentrating on not allowing himself to cum.

He couldn't allow himself to cum untouched just by looking at your wet cunt. At least not in front of you. Not right there. He would, however, be filing this image inside the safest corners of his brain to become prime masturbation material later on, that's for sure.

He leaned in, warm and shaky breath hitting the damp spot on your panties. His tongue lolled out unconsciously and he licked a long stripe over the fabric of your underwear.

He was so sure he had died. That's the only possible answer for all the things happening right at that moment. Not only did you suck him, now he was tasting your pussy?

Oh god. He was tasting your pussy.

It was like something broke inside of him, allowing all of his obsession to spill over as soon as he pressed his tongue against you. He moaned loudly, ripping your underwear away only to grip it tightly in his hand as he, at last, dived into you.

He was going to keep it to himself as a prize. 

Kuuya slurped and sucked and licked your wetness like a starved man. He wasn't focusing on the task at hand; instead, he was just getting drunk on your juices and your musk, moaning like someone who had just eaten the most delicious sweet. Oh he was so cute, all pussydrunk like that.

You hummed, gently holding a fistful of his hair as you grinded lightly against his eager tongue. You… probably weren't going to cum if he didn't suck you with a little bit more intent, but you figured you'd just let him enjoy himself for a bit more.

Just looking at his eyes rolling and hearing the sinful whimpers and grunts he was letting out was already doing something to you.

Soon enough, however, Kuuya seemed to discover that one little bundle of nerves. He gave it a few kitten licks before curling his lips against it to suck, and it was finally your turn to roll your eyes.

Your hand gripped his hair tighter and your back arched while he rolled his tongue against your clit; eyes wide when he realized he must have done something right.

One of his hands tentatively rubbed against your entrance and you cooed.

“Yes Kuuya, that's a good boy… Put one of your fingers inside me, baby”

He gasped against your pussy, the praise clearly making him lose his focus. A mean part of your brain thought about stuffing him with a butt plug just so you could make him wag a little tail whenever you praised him, but that would have to be an adventure for a later time.

He began pumping two fingers inside you, mouth going slack in awe once he heard the shlick of your wet cunt, and drool pooling at the side of his mouth.

He was so clueless and so, so cute. You couldn't help but think about actually making a mess of him.

“Kuuya” you said, not as a moan, but as a call. He stopped his motions for a second and looked at you – doe eyed, mouth and chin still glistening with your cum.

You licked your lips at the sight.

“I'll sit up a bit. I want you to lay down on the bed.” You said, as you shifted your position and rested your back against the headrest, making him crawl towards you to keep his head between your legs.

You watched as he slowly rested his body against the bed, a little yelp coming out of his lips when his hardened length pressed against the mattress.

“Good boy.” You praised him as you ran your knuckles on the sticky skin of his cheek and he whined.

“Now I want you to hump the bed while you eat me out.” you said, flatly.

Kuuya's eyes widened like saucers.

“W-what?” 

“You're hard, aren't you?” You ran your hand through his head, caressing his hair gently “I want you to fuck the bed while you eat me out. I want to watch you move your hips like a pretty slut. Can you do that for me?” 

He blinked, staying silent as you kept threading your fingers through his hair. The furious blush that spread through his face and neck was anything but unnoticeable.

“I can give you a pillow, if you'd rather hump it instead of the bed” you added, figuring he was probably already addicted to humping his own pillow like a dog in heat, so it wouldn't hurt to make him comfortable while he obeyed you.

“Y-yes… I would like a pillow then.” He whispered.

You mouthed an okay and gave him your favorite pillow – the one you usually hugged while sleeping. You wondered if he knew that. And by the way his eyes lit up when he saw the pillow, you figured he probably did.

“Take off your shirt? Please?” you asked him, after he positioned the pillow where he wanted it to be.

Kuuya pouted at your request, and as you were about to tell him he didn't need to do it if it made him uncomfortable, his trembling hands moved to unbutton his shirt slowly. You reached out to him, pausing his hands. He looked at you, sad puppy eyes glistening with tears.

“Do you want to take off your shirt? You don't have to if you don't want to.” you reassured him.

He sniffled, looking away.

“I-I don't mind.” he mumbled and you knew he was probably hiding his discomfort to please you and would never tell you the truth. 

Kuuya seemed thirsty for your approval in every little thing, to the detriment of himself. It made a little monster inside of you roar with the desperate need to keep him tucked away, safe with you, just like a dragon who hoards gold in a faraway cave.

Your thumb caressed his still trembling hands.

“Then just leave these buttons undone. You don't have to take it off.”

“But-”

“Kuuya.” You said his name firmly, making him flinch despite the gentle touch of your hand against his. You noticed how his cock twitched at that as well. “It's okay. Now please be a good boy.”

You went back to your position against the headrest and opened your legs, pussy still dripping and throbbing with the lack of attention. He gulped, licking his lips and nodded furiously.

It was hard, coordinating his movements. All Kuuya had known his whole life was to jerk off or hump his pillow, but now he had to suck you, lick you, pump his fingers inside you AND hump your precious pillow. Not that he was complaining. He loved it. It was Heaven.

But he felt a bit self conscious about his abilities, or lack thereof.

Just like he was self conscious when you asked him to strip. He hated his body – he was so scrawny and weak-looking, he felt disgusting. What if you hated him? What if you wanted something else in a partner? He couldn't risk having you uninterested in him! Not when he got what he so desperately wanted!

Showing you his body would have to wait until he was either convinced you truly wanted him, or until he got you locked up in his apartment. The last option was the most tempting to him – having you shackled to his barred window would be a guarantee that you wouldn't run away after all.

But for now, all he could do was his best – all while suffocating you with his affections until you drowned in them.

The squelching sounds of your pussy as he pumped his fingers inside you were driving him insane.

Kuuya humped your pillow like a dumb dog in heat – his hips almost bounced against the bed with how hard and deep he was thrusting. He couldn't wait until he was balls deep inside your cunt, the leaky tip of his cock kissing your cervix until he filled you whole.

He felt dizzy. He half registered how loud his moans were; all he could think was about your cum all over his face and how he fucked your pillow, mean and fast.

“C-curl your fingers up, baby” you whined, pulling his hair, and this finally got his attention.

He acquiesced, because he was good. He was so good for you and he was going to learn everything you liked because no one else would ever touch your body ever again. 

Only him.

And he had to learn it all to keep you satisfied and happy, so you'd praise him and fuck the brains out of him as a reward. It was the perfect exchange! You'd be his and he'd be yours and nothing could ever keep his grubby hands away from you now.

He would do whatever you asked.

He felt a spongy texture against the pad of his fingers, and when you mewled, legs spasming around him, he knew he had found gold, somehow.

He halted the movement of his hips to focus on swirling his tongue against your clit and fingering your cunt at an insane speed. He would for sure be extremely sore the next day, but he only cared about your loud moans and how your thighs were squishing his head so tight and so good.

When you finally came, he groaned at the feeling of your cunt squeezing his fingers inside you, pulling them deeper inside with a vice grip, and the taste of your cum wetting his whole face. He reached his own peak at the thought of how HE was the one who made you curl your toes and soak your bed sheets like that.

And another proof that he was made for you was added into his mind.

But it was too fucking much. For the first time in his life, Kuuya felt drunk. He needed more or he would die. He needed more more more more.

Maybe more than you could even give.

He didn't let you breathe at all.

As soon as your eyes fluttered open again, coming down from your high, he began crawling on top of you, panting like a feral dog. You watched as a sticky thread of his cum momentarily connected his dick to your now wet pillow and despite all that, he was still fucking hard. How was that even possible was beyond you, but you didn't have time to linger on those thoughts when he hovered over you.

“I wanna cum in you” he moaned, still moving his hips, humping your mound. His eyes were glazed over, like he wasn't all there with you, and his pupils were blown wide.

“I wanna cum in you” he repeated, panting, a little bit of drool spilling from the corner of his mouth “I need to cum in-inside you. I need to fill you up, please. Let me breed you? Please? I wanna be inside you and hnng- pump you full of my cum, please? Let me cum inside, please? Please please please let me breed you, please” he slurred nonstop, almost incoherently, while he frantically moved his hips like he couldn't control them.

He was so drunk with you that he was desperate and talking like he had never done before. 

It was pathetic. 

And so fucking hot.

“Shhh baby, it's okay” you cooed, petting his head to calm him down while your other hand squeezed his hip to try and still his movements “You can fuck me, it's okay. I'm not going anywhere.”

He whined, nodding his head and sniffling as a few tears ran down his cheeks, seemingly coming back to his senses a little bit.

“It's okay, love” you pulled his head towards you, cradling him on your chest. You kept on petting him, while your other hand softly scratched his back in order to calm him down.

Once his breathing was a little less erratic, you let him raise his chest again.

“You okay?” you murmured.

He nodded, rubbing his eyes. Then he looked down at his cock and back at you. You chuckled. He really was insatiable.

You threw your arms around his neck, eyes half-lidded.

“Then go on and fill me up” you murmured against his ear, enjoying the shiver that went down his spine.

You didn't need to ask twice.

Kuuya was so nervous.

He was about to be inside his love! He was about to fill them up with his cum, but the thought itself was already throwing him to the edge. He would have to do his best to not cum once he felt your gummy walls squeeze his cock.

Easier said than done.

Kuuya threw his head back again, a guttural moan erupting from his chest as soon as he got the head past your entrance. He heaved loudly, focusing so hard on not spilling himself so soon, whimpering whenever your walls clenched around him.

“Y-you okay?” you asked breathlessly and all he could do was nod with a pained expression on his face.

“It's okay, take it slow” you added, gently rubbing his thighs. 

You were an angel, truly. Only you would have so much patience with someone as pathetic as him. He had to fuck you good! He had to show you that you could depend on him! This way you would keep pampering him like he so desperately needed.

Through pure determination, Kuuya pushed himself further, moaning pornographically with every inch that went inside you. Once you had taken him down his hilt, he exhaled, shakily.

“T-there you go…” you groaned “Filling me up so much, my good boy.”

Kuuya whimpered. He was torn between asking you not to say those things so he wouldn't cum, and lapping up your praise like a parched man.

He began moving, slowly thrusting in and out of your wet cunt, and he felt like he was melting all over again. He was going to be just a puddle, with how good it felt. You clenched tightly around his length like you were trying to milk him dry and he realized that he was probably going to be addicted to this from then on – there was no going back.

His nails dug into the plush of your hips as he began pounding into you, fast and erratic, the sounds of his balls slapping against your ass and the wet noise of his cock being drenched in your juices were so dirty and he loved it. He couldn't help the “Ah! Ah! Ah!” he kept letting out to the rhythm of his thrusts.

You were just so good, so made for him, so his.

With a sudden movement, Kuuya hooked his arms under your legs and pushed you. He always saw that position in those porn videos, and he always wanted to do it to you. The mating press. He wanted to push himself inside you as far as he could and then fill you up with his jizz. Ah, just thinking about it made his cock twitch inside of you.

He wondered if you could feel his fast and loud heartbeat in your pussy, since his cock was so damn hard. It would be almost painful if it wasn't for your glorious wetness sucking him in so good and taking care of him.

You grabbed one of Kuuya's hand and brought it to your clit, urging him to draw little circles on it to bring you over that edge. He rubbed it quick and merciless, looking down at how your pussy was swallowing his cock, so wet that a ring of white had formed around its base as he fucked you, and how your clit also twitched under his fingers.

Not long after, you felt your abdomen tighten and your walls clench around him as you reached your orgasm, arching your back while you desperately pushed his hand away from your clit to avoid overstimulation.

Watching you cum so hard because of his very own ministrations made Kuuya cross over that edge right away as well. With a high pitched moan, he spurted his load inside you – so much cum that it spilled down  to your bed and Kuuya mindlessly tried to push it back into you while he rode his high.

His chest was heaving and his eyes were glazed over, the look of pure adoration still visible in his pink orbs as he looked at you, sweaty and thoroughly fucked (by him! Not by a toy! Much less another man! Not ever again.)

He wanted more. He needed more. He felt like he could cum over and over again inside you and fuck you silly for hours on end.

But as he opened his dry mouth to say these words, a sudden tiredness took over his body and his eyelids got impossibly heavy.

Kuuya fell down into your arms, unconsciously snuggling your figure, his softening dick still inside you as he cuddled your body and placed kisses on your sticky skin. It wasn't long until his breathing became steady and sleep took over his body.

You decided you'd let 5 or 10 minutes pass before you'd wake him up in order to drink some water, eat some protein bars and join you in the shower so you two could clean up.

But damn it, was he adorable while sleeping. He had a little pout on his bottom lip, but besides that, his face finally looked relaxed. The first time you've seen him like that in all those months you two have been coworkers.

Pride swelled in your chest as you thought about how you're the first one to ever see him like that.

The scared wet cat finally in your arms, ready for you to coddle, kiss, fuck, take care of and protect from any harm.

You unconsciously tightened your hold on him, feeling a wave of possessiveness so vile that it made you dizzy for a second.

It was a bit too much, what you seemed to feel for him. But you weren't willing to analyze that at that moment. He was right there in your arms, clutching you like you were his lifeline – and that was more than enough for you.

At least your anxiety and paranoia had been completely quelled. If he was so desperate to fuck you after you confessed you were a bit creepy for him as well, then maybe it was okay for you to be more upfront with your desires, just like he was.

Even though he truly would never guess he was being so obvious.

It was so cute, how he thought you really didn't know about anything he ever did. Not the stalking, nor the stealing. And not even the little thoughtful things he could straight up tell you because you'd genuinely appreciate them. 

However, regardless of him telling you or not, you just knew everything. Your poor little baby wasn't very subtle, after all.

Therefore, you very much knew Kuuya had stayed behind with you at work just because he knew you'd be there. He thought he was elusive, but you could pick up his intentions from miles and miles away. As soon as you first saw him idling alone in that kitchen, it all clicked perfectly in your head.

Kuuya was so silly and so dumb, sometimes. But it was okay because that made him so, so cute that you could eat him up.

Over and over and over again.

[mrs-kmikaelson]

apollo

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x sunshine!reader Summary: Aaron thinks you're just about the most radiant person he's ever met. But then you fly too close to the sun, and all your light disappears. Warnings: grumpy x sunshine turned not sunshine, references to greek myth of icarus and the sun god helios, apollo lore, violence, mentions of reaper arc, heartbreak, complicated relationships, avoidance, unresolved trauma, feelings, hopeful ending Words: 4.8K

Masterlist | icarus (part 1) | helios (part 2)

a/n: this is the end! thank u for all the love! i love this series sm, and i'll prolly end up writing lil blurbs for it (esp at ur request). there's sm feelings in this one. enjoy!

"I need to leave, Y/N."

"Wait— wait, we can talk about this, can't we?" You stepped closer to her, distraught colouring your face. "We can get you help."

She shook her head, a sad smile crossing her face as if she was saying she knew you wouldn't understand. Poor, sweet Y/N, her eyes said. Too good for this world. Too naïve. Too hopeful. What she ended up saying was, "No, Y/N. I can't."

"I— I don't understand." Tears welled up in your eyes. Her words didn't make sense. None of it made sense.

The smile on her face never fell. Only a single tear did, racing down her cheek. It occurred to you then that you'd never seen her cry.

"Oh, Y/N/N." She grabbed your hand, squeezing it tightly. "I hope you never have to."

When she let go of your hand, you knew there was nothing more you could say. She was leaving, and there was absolutely nothing you could do about it.

But, deep down, you knew she'd already been long gone.

"Goodbye, Y/N."

And before you knew it, she was out the door, too far away to hear you whisper back.

"Goodbye, Elle."

When Elle left, you didn't understand it. As the only female profilers, you stuck together like glue. You both came from units where you were at the top of your game, just to be shuffled back down to the bottom, having to learn an entirely new competence.

You didn't get it. The work tore her away. The job took too much away from her, took too much out of her. But that was the job. But what about you?

She could walk away from the job, fine. But why did she walk away from you?

You didn't get it then. Too young. Too naïve. Too hopeful.

But now you were older. You knew too much. The hope had been sucked out of you.

You understood now.

You understood what it meant to not be able to take it anymore, to not be able to face the people you loved while knowing you weren't the same. And you wanted to. You desperately wanted things to go back to the way they were. 

You wanted to go back to Rossi ruffling your hair, cracking jokes about your age but always knowing he took you seriously. You wanted to go back to lunch breaks with Penelope, talking about your nails and boys and feeling like a teenager. You wanted to back to laughing in Emily's apartment, her cat crawling across your lap. You wanted to go back to watching sci-fi movies with Reid, too convoluted to grasp. You wanted to go back to when Derek would tease you instead of treating you like you were made of glass. You wanted to go back to watching JJ's son without her wondering if you were in the state of mind to do it.

And Hotch.

Aaron. 

You wanted to hit rewind to before everything happened, if not just to be at his side again. Before you tried to kiss him and before he pulled away. Before a serial killer decided he was God and your life was his to play with.

But you couldn't, and now you understood Elle better than you ever did. Because no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't be the same sunshine everyone loved. 

You couldn't stay there anymore.

You submitted your resignation. You didn't know what happened next—you never thought further along than the BAU.

But you had to leave.

You understood now.

You wished you didn't.

— 

The words echoed throughout your head on a loop.

Hotch. Accident. Hospital.

The Reaper.

If it hadn't been for Morgan, you would've jumped into that SUV and driven there immediately. But he stopped you, taking away the keys and regarding you with a soft but firm stance. You both knew it wasn't safe for you to drive.

You didn't talk about the reasons why.

Now, you sat to Aaron's left. He was sleeping. He'd never seemed so peaceful.

How ironic it was that he had to be stabbed before he took a break. Even if you knew it wasn't peaceful, not really.

A U.S. Marshal had just come and retrieved Jack and Haley, taking them to an undisclosed location. Their lives were upended. His life was upended.

Your fearless leader, stony and brave. He approached every challenge with determination, like he knew he could beat it. Aaron Hotchner was a man who won battles. But when you walked into that hospital room, for the first time since you met him, he looked afraid.

He looked like he'd already lost.

Your heart squeezed in your chest. It wasn't fair. 

Suddenly, a mumble broke you out of your thoughts. "I can hear you thinking in my sleep."

You looked down, seeing him slowly open his eyes. You fixed him with a smile, even though it didn't feel right on your lips. Be brave, Y/N, your mind chided. He'd be brave for you. "Really? I can hear you thinking in your sleep."

His face remained blank, unfazed by your attempt to change the subject. He did that often—calling you out. Never maliciously, always with the greater good at heart. But he knew you. Sometimes, it felt like he knew you too well.

You wondered, did you know him as well as he knew you? 

You liked to think so.

Like usual, you crumbled under his gaze, looking away. If you kept looking at him, nothing would stop the onslaught of tears from making their way down your face, and you wouldn't do that to him. You wouldn't cry; it wasn't your right to. You weren't his wife. 

But you were something. Enough of something to feel the need to cry, anyway.

A shaky exhale left your lips. "Why do bad things always happen to good people?"

The room was silent after your question, the only sounds being his heart monitor and the shuffling of the hospital outside. The beeping felt like a taunt, a reminder that Aaron's life hung in the balance, that he could've died.

It made you realize that you weren't specific enough. What you really meant was, why did bad things always happen to him?

Aaron Hotchner. The leader. The father. A good man. The best man you'd ever met.

The man you'd fallen in love with.

When he responded, you could hear the despair in his voice, like he had the same questions.

But for once, he didn't have the answers.

"I don't know."

—

You didn't have to knock on Aaron's door long before he was opening it, having expected you. You grinned, holding up the brown bags in your hands. "I come bearing gifts. Chinese."

"You're a godsend," he praised, undoing his house alarm. You had helped him install it when he got out of the hospital, no questions asked. 

While he did that, you placed the food on the table, going to grab some plates and drinks. This was the rhythm you'd settled into, a routine. You came over every other night under the guise of updating him with your cases, but really, it was a lot more than that for you.

You hoped it was for him, too.

You always brought food. Sometimes, he even cooked (it was edible). It was your way of making sure he ate.

You never talked about what happened. He never talked about Haley or Jack, even though you knew they were the only thing on his mind. You talked about work, and the weather, and what movies you were gonna be watching after dinner, but never anything that mattered.

You didn't need to. This, being here, mattered. You didn't need anything more than that.

You just wanted him to know he wasn't alone. No matter what happened, you'd always be there for him. This was your way of showing that.

After watching a movie you didn't pay much attention to, you stood at the door, shrugging on your coat. You were just about to leave when his hand enveloped your wrist, making you turn around.

Curiously, you stared up at him. "Hotch?" Your voice was soft, the kind of soft that came with fragile things. Fragile. Delicate. Valuable.

Aaron opened his mouth and then closed it again, looking like he knew exactly what he wanted to say without knowing how to say it. He could command a room with quiet confidence, negotiate with the most unstable unsubs and power-hungry police chiefs, and give a profile like no one you'd ever met. But when it came to his own emotions, he was at a loss for words.

You weren't used to seeing that. There was something about it. You didn't like watching him struggle, but some part of you was satisfied that you could make him pause. It made you think that, maybe, he thought about you the same way you thought about him.

Just maybe.

When he seemed to collect his thoughts, he spoke. "Thank you." He didn't take his eyes off you, making sure you knew how earnest he was.

Your breath got caught in your throat. The weight of his gaze told you everything else he wasn't saying. How this wasn't just a thank you for the food or the DVD. This was a thank you for everything.

But, in your eyes, he had nothing to thank you for.

So you smiled and said, "Don't mention it."

And you hoped he knew how earnest you were, too.

—

You awoke to loud pounding on your door.  You remained motionless, hoping the person would get bored and go away, but the knocking persisted.

Glancing at your alarm clock, you groaned. It was far too early for anyone to be visiting you. Today, any time would be too early. But the knocking only continued, so with another groan, you rolled out of bed, throwing on a sweater in a hassle as you yelled, "I'm coming!"

You muttered curses to yourself all the way to the door, hastily unlocking it. When you finally threw it open, you were ready to give someone a piece of your mind, only to bet met with who you were least expecting.

Your mouth fell open slightly, all your curses dying on your tongue. And like you'd been doused in water, you suddenly felt wide awake.

On the other side of the threshold, Derek Morgan gave you a soft smile, his expression light while his eyes carried all the heavy things you thought you left at the BAU.

Now, all those things were at your doorstep.

"Hi, princess." He paused. "We have to talk."

— 

You would've thought that, after all your time in the BAU, you would've gotten used to hospitals.

Apparently not.

As your eyelids fluttered open, you were disoriented, instantly closing them again at the sheer bright lights. The sound of feet shuffling came to your ears, followed by a flicking sound.

When you opened your eyes again, the lights were off, and Derek Morgan stood in front of you. He gave you his classic smile, but for some reason, it looked a little tighter than usual, a little bit harder to conceive.

What had happened? Why did he look so sad? Was he okay?

"D-Derek?" you croaked, interrupted by a cough.

Quick on his feet, he was soon passing you a glass of water, guiding the straw into your mouth. "Easy there, easy. There you go." He was tending to you like you were a sick child. You weren't sick. You weren't a child.

What happened? Why was he taking care of you? Why did you need to be taken care of?

When he removed the straw from your mouth, you repeated your question. "Derek, what's wrong?"

He looked like he didn't want to answer you. Instead, he countered, "Y/N, do you remember what happened?"

As if his question singlehandedly opened pandora's box, pain suddenly radiated from your lower body, aching all over. 

Your brain caught up with your body, and then the pain intensified.

You shakily exhaled. "Yes."

Derek exhaled, too, but his looked more like relief than anything. Relief that he wouldn't have to explain this to you. Relief that he wouldn't have to say the words out loud. 

"You were in surgery for a while," he said. "Yesterday night. The doctors say you'll make a speedy recovery."

You didn't respond.

"Garcia's still flying in. She won't believe anything I say until she sees it with her own eyes," he lightly chuckled. But his tone was heavy. No jokes could erase that. "The others'll be on their way back when they wake up. I told 'em you were in good hands."

You wanted to laugh. You tried. The only thing that left your mouth was a sob.

Derek was immediately at your side, cradling your head into his chest, letting your tears soak his shirt and not saying a single word about any of it. You wanted that to make it feel better, but you just felt empty.

Like there were holes in your body.

—

You sat on your couch, wrapped in a warm blanket as Derek rummaged through your cupboards, looking for something to give that was fit for human consumption. You would've been a good host and offered him tea, but he already had a pot on the stove.

He said you looked like you hadn't eaten. You didn't deny it.

"Everything in your fridge is expired, so I ordered us some breakfast from that place downtown," he informed you, setting down two mugs of tea on the coffee table and taking a seat in the armchair across from you. 

You watched the steam twirl into the air, nodding blankly.

Derek sighed. "Kid, I'm worried about you."

You sighed back in response. "I'm fine." The words came out harsher than intended.

Derek's eyes softened. "You quit your job, Y/N. You love the BAU."

Love. Loved. You shook your head, lightly scoffing through your nose. For the first time in a while, you were honest. "I love the BAU when it isn't taking everything away from me." You could count the things this job had taken from you on two hands too many, turning your reflection into a stranger.

It made you wonder what you'd do without it.

Derek's eyes didn't meet yours, looking down at the floor instead. The room went quiet. You could hear the cars outside, the rest of the world moving on while you stayed right where you were, stagnant.

Right now, you were in your apartment. Your feet were touching your hardwood floor. Your fingers played with a loose string on your blanket. Derek sat across from you. Your body was here.

But in reality, your mind was stuck in that house. Stuck walking into a trap with Morgan right behind you.

"I'm sorry."

At his sudden words, you looked up. His eyes locked with yours. You didn't know how long it'd been that you'd sat in silence, but you certainly didn't expect it to be broken with those words.

You furrowed your brows. "What?"

Despite the long period of quietness that came before, he didn't stay quiet now. He didn't even look like he had to think about what he was saying—almost like he'd thought it all a thousand times before. "Y/N, I'm sorry that you're in pain. And if I could switch places with you, I would— in a heartbeat." He leaned forward in his chair. "There's not a day that goes by that I don't think about what happened. About how I left you alone." His voice tightened up. "But Y/N, I swear to you, if you come back to the BAU, I won't ever leave you alone like that again."

Strong conviction laced his voice, like he was under oath. For a moment, you were confused by what he was saying. He never left you alone— oh.

Oh.

Tears welled up in your eyes. "Derek—" your voice cracked. Oh, you felt terrible. So, so terrible.

How long had one of your best friends blamed himself for something he had no control over? How long had this slipped past you?

You were supposed to be one of the best profilers in the nation.

But right now, you just felt terrible. 

"Derek, I never blamed you." A tear slid down your cheek against your wishes. "This isn't your fault. It never was."

Your vision was so blurry that you didn't see him crying, but you did see him wipe at his eyes. That made you get up, and he met you in the middle, wrapping his arms around you and engulfing you in his embrace.

In his arms, you cried freely, just like that morning in the hospital. You cried for all the things you pretended not to cry about. For all the things you lost. The things you didn't see. The person you were. The person you could've been.

"I'll never leave you alone again, you hear me, kid?" Derek hugged you tighter through his muffled words, making sure you didn't just hear them but that you felt them. "We're family."

Family.

You hugged him back just as tight. If you lost everything, you still had that. You might have lost yourself, but your family was right there, shining a light in the darkness, looking for you.

You prayed they'd find you.

— 

When Morgan left, it was dark out. He only left after a lot of crying and even more food, but you felt different. Reminded of what you still had.

You weren't okay. Nothing was okay. But you wanted to things to be able to get better. You didn't just want to give up and walk away from it everything. You built a life at the BAU with people you loved. Maybe there was one person you even loved too much.

God, he hurt you. He hurt you in irreversible ways, leaving you out in the cold multiple times, begging for him to see you just for him to turn away. 

And you knew he cared about you. No one acted the way he did without caring. Sometimes, you thought Aaron Hotchner cared too much, masking it behind a wall of indifference. 

Before all this happened, you were allowed behind the wall. He showed you the man he hid from others. You fell in love with that man. You missed him.

You just wanted to go back to those versions of yourself. The Y/N who would make a stupid joke late at night and the Aaron who would be too tired to pretend not to smile.

But Hotch wanted to talk about it. Aaron did, too, but it was mostly Hotch. A different version of him that was too concerned, too focused on drilling the truth out of you.

Could you give it to him? There was a time when you would've given him anything; all he had to do was ask. Now, you weren't so sure. There were certain parts of yourself you couldn't just hand out, certain things you wanted to keep for you and you alone.

You had already given up so much. You already gave your heart to Aaron Hotchner once, and he discarded it. Who was to say this time would be any different?

No. You couldn't give him everything.

But you'd give him something.

—

You found the route to Hotch's apartment the same way you did time and time before, like a dance you still knew the steps to. You knew when to turn right and when to turn left, when to keep going straight and when to stop. Nothing about this was unfamiliar.

Aaron Hotchner was once the most familiar person you'd ever known.

But you knew things were different.

Even though the elevator up to his floor hadn't changed and he still had the same mat outside his door, you knew that you weren't the same. You had changed. You weren't familiar anymore.

And so, when he opened the door and his brows raised up to his hairline, you understood the surprise. You didn't just do this—you didn't just show up at his apartment unannounced, not anymore.

His lips parted. You weren't sure if he was going to speak or if he was just in shock. You spoke first regardless.

"I, um," you wrung your hands together, "I don't have food this time." A nervous smile lit up your face, no less nervous than your first time in his office. Maybe more nervous this time. Maybe you hid it better back then.

And maybe he could hide his emotions better back then, too. The shock on his face didn't clear until after you had spoken. He blinked, then opened his door wider. "Please."

A small thank you left your lips as you walked in, crossing the threshold into a world you knew you wouldn't be able to leave again.

The apartment looked like it hadn't changed at all. The only thing that caught your eye were the toys splayed out on the living room floor.

Your heart spiked, but as if Hotch could read your mind, he said, "Jack is asleep."

Glad you weren't interrupting anything, the tension in your shoulders was released. You wondered if that's what he saw: visual cues that indicated your mental state. Was it mind reading or behaviour?

Was he a profiler, or did he just know you as well as you both thought he did?

You couldn't really tell anymore.

"Would you like something to drink?" he queried.

"No, I uh..." this was small talk. You weren't here for this; you didn't even know what you were here for, but it was for more than this.

Whatever you were here for, you had to figure it out before you lost your nerve.

You turned around, finding him right behind you. You inhaled a sharp breath. The last time he was this close to you— 

"You hurt me, Hotch." The words tumbled out of your mouth before you even had the time to filter them. You watched his face fall. You continued, anyway. "You hurt me when you left me alone that night. And I— I can't fault you for rejection. But you left me all over again when I— when I needed you."

"Y/N." He took a step closer.

You took a step back.

"I needed you. I really, really needed you." Tears built in your eyes. "But you weren't there." You wiped away the tears in your eyes before they could fall, refusing to cry. "And then you have me go on the record to talk about the most horrible experience of my life, and suspend me when you don't get what you want. Like I'm just some rookie agent."

Unlike the previous conversations you'd had, Aaron didn't say anything to his defense. He stood there, unmoving, letting you say what you needed to say. You were equal parts grateful and equal parts angry. Exasperated.

You wanted him to say something. You wanted to know if it was really all in your head, if it really happened or if you imagined it. "Is that—" you faltered, "is that all I am to you, Hotch? Just an agent? Did I ever—" you swallowed, "did I ever mean anything to you?"

"Yes." His response was rapid, his eyes narrowing as if he was insulted by the question. As if he was shocked you could ever think otherwise. He took a step closer to you, and this time, you didn't step back. "If I have ever made you feel like you are 'just an agent,' then I sincerely apologize." He paused, his eyes boring into yours. "Y/N, you are one of the most qualified and accomplished agents I have ever met, let alone had the pleasure of working with. And I can say with absolute certainty that you are one of the best people I have ever known. You are beautiful, inside and out, and full of so much light that you have brightened every room you've walked into." His words reverberated through the quiet room, soaking into your bones and into every fibre of your being. "So, if I've pressured you since your return, it is because I am worried."

Your breath hitched as he took another step closer. "I'm sorry I wasn't there. I'm sorry for leaving you alone that night and every other night afterward. I was—" he took a breath, looking down briefly. When his eyes met yours again, they were just as honest. Brave. Afraid. "I was terrified I'd lose you. That I would ruin what we had. And then I was scared for what happened to you. Too afraid to look you in the eye after I made a decision that almost cost you your life. By the time you got back to the BAU, my fear wasn't just losing you physically. It was losing you. Your heart. Your spirit. All the things I love about you."

Your heart might've stopped then and there. After a few seconds, you echoed, "Love?"

Aaron didn't back down or retract what he said. He nodded, like he was confirming it you and to himself. "Yes."

There were words he wasn't saying; you understood that. There were words you weren't saying, either.

But you knew what it meant for things to go unsaid. People blamed themselves. People crumbled. They said things they didn't mean to compensate for what they weren't saying. They were crushed under the weight of it all.

You didn't want that to happen anymore.

You took a step back, not because you were stepping away from the conversation, but because you were stepping into it. You nodded toward the couch. "Let's have that talk."

Aaron's eyes flooded with relief. You both made your way to his couch and sat down.

And then you talked until the sun came up.

— 

Your talk with Aaron wasn't easy. And despite your best promises to yourself, you still ended up crying, anyway. 

You weren't naïve. That may have been the first conversation you had, but it wouldn't be the last. There was still so much you had to talk about, so much you had to work through, but you had the time to do it.

Your suspension was lifted, but you didn't return to the BAU. At least, not right away. You decided not to throw yourself back into it, to let yourself find your footing first and process everything you tried to shove down.

Every member of the team supported you, and you knew there was a spot waiting for you when you were ready. Garcia had reassured you there were issues with your resignation, anyway (which you knew was undoubtedly her doing). You thanked her for her troubles.

She visited you often while you were home alone, updating you on the team's shenanigans. And Rossi visited you with enough food to feed a shelter, rendering it pointless to go grocery shopping at all. You accused him of spoiling you. He retorted that he could cook for the whole team if he wanted to.

And that's how you ended up where you were, underneath the fairy lights in his backyard as Reid summarized Greek mythology to you.

Gesturing his hands in the air, he explained, "No, actually— although thought to be, Apollo is not the sun god. Helios is. Helios is meant to be a personification of the sun—the sun in human form. But Apollo is god of the sun—an important distinction in categorization. He's not the sun, but he's not supposed to be. He just has sunlike features, and— I'm sorry. I'm rambling, aren't I?"

He looked sheepish, but you were leaning forward in your seat. "No, not at all." You gave him a reassuring smile. "Please, keep going."

Spencer's eyes lit up, and he went on, "Well, Apollo has many more characteristics that make him an interesting god to look at it, like his love of truth, music, poetry, healing, and..."

As he continued, you couldn't help but connect what he was talking about to yourself.

He's not the sun.

But he's not supposed to be.

Inadvertently, you realized what you'd been trying to learn for so long. The answer was right in front of you the whole time, but now, you finally understood it.

You kept trying to be this person that didn't exist. The sun. A work of fiction. But you couldn't be that. The sun wasn't up all the time. It wasn't always bright. It was impossible to be light at every waking moment. The light didn't define Apollo, and it didn't define you.

No, you realized. You weren't the sun.

You were so much more than that.

taglist: @ithinkitzleslie @burrithorr @ill-be-okay-soon-enough @bunchofcells-blog @hotchspearl @famouslywaiting @lailamares @avis-writeshq @zoeyredbird1 @dyslexicreader64 @lolagaming23 @thomasshelbyswife @spct0r @qualitygiantshoepsychic @duruxoxo @idontlikesleeping

[777heavengirl]

Bless the Telephone ; ##05

James Potter x f!muggle!reader

word count: 1,589

warnings: none?

a/n: i love james, james i love you.... i love you james

series masterlist

main masterlist

It was rather funny James thought. The way his days seemed to blend into a routine with you. More often than not, he’d be the one calling, late in the afternoon when he knew that you’d be back from your classes. 

He always called. Hoping you’d be home to answer the phone.

And you always were, back home that is, ready to answer his call. To do assignments while on the phone with him.

He’d twirl his wand in between his fingers, mindlessly, and press the telephone between his shoulder and cheek. He’d sit on the plush maroon couch he shared with Sirius, talking the night away, ignoring the way Sirius silently teased, ignoring the playful roll of Remus’s eyes.

“Are you listening Potter?” your voice crackled through the receiver, if he didn’t know better he would’ve said you were narrowing your eyes. James chuckled, turning away from Sirius’s mocking face, and quickly answered-

“Of course I am love- I always listen”

You seemed to hum in disagreement. 

“What was I just talking about?” you retorted, James saw Sirius stick a middle finger from the corner of his eye

“You were talking about the new girl your roommate’s seeing-”

“Oh-” you said, briefly, taken aback at the fact that he did pay attention “Aw Potter- you listen to me? How sweet” James laughed, a small blush spreading under his skin. 

“Why else would I call you?” he couldn't stop the smile pulling at his lips, he knew Sirius would tease later.

It would be worth it

“Because you ran out of friends and had to make friends with strange people on the phone-”

“You just called yourself a strange person-”

“You don’t know anything about me Potter, I could be a serial killer for all you know-”

“I do know about you though- I listen”

“Oh yeah? like what? what do you know about me, James Potter?” He could hear the smile on your lips, and he’d be lying if he said it didn't make the pit of his stomach flutter with excitement. 

“Well I know your roommate’s name is Charlotte, I know you tried learning how to play guitar when you were seven but greatly failed-”

“Oi! I didn’t fail, my talents just lie elsewhere-”

“Whatever you say doll-” he could hear you hmph in response. “I know you say you don’t have a favorite color- but I reckon it’s actually red”

“Why do you say that?”

“You always talk about you owning red-colored things- one plus one is two love,”

“Like what?” your words came out as a whisper this time, almost as if scared that James had found you out. 

“Like the new scarf, you said you got… and the rug you said you have in your room” James bit his lip, he wondered if you thought he was insane for remembering little details like those. “You’ve painted your nails red a lot too- or so you’ve said”

You stayed quiet.

“Your favorite season is spring, you’ve never been out of England, you’re an only child-”

You laughed all of a sudden, a short ‘ha’ that rang through the phone

“What?”

“I’m not an only child…”

“Oh, you never mentioned-”

“I have a little brother… he goes to a boarding school- far away” you cleared your throat “and I’m of course in Uni so I sadly do not see him very often,”

“Oh I’m sorry- that sucks-”

“Sometimes he spends summer break with me- or at least a few weeks, just to get away from the house you know? Parents and all-” James hummed in agreement. He thought of Sirius briefly, the way he’d turn up to his house at most halfway through summer break, full of bruises he tried to hide, eye bags that didn’t seem to go away until they were finally on the train to Hogwarts for the next term. He hoped that it wasn’t that kind of situation.

He shook the thought away, 

“He should be coming sometime soon I think… do you have any siblings?”

“My parents always wanted a girl but… no chance- they got stuck with me and Sirius”

“Sirius is your brother?”

“Brother in everything but blood, yeah”

“What does that mean? Like he’s adopted?” James laughed a bit, it wasn’t like his mother didn't try to do that.

“My mom would’ve loved to but no… Sirius has been living with me since we were sixteen— so yes, he’s my brother”

“I see… for a second I thought he was your boyfriend-”

“Oi! That’s gross-”

“Oh?” you said, tauntingly. 

“N-not like that! I just mean that I see him as a brother- it's like incest!” James stuttered out, rushing the words out of his mouth, you started laughing from the other side, enjoying sending James into a tizzy. 

“Besides, he’s madly in love with our mate-”

“Remus?” 

“Yes, Remus”

“I can hear you Prongs- I am NOT in love with-” Sirius screamed out from his room, 

“Shut up I’m on the phone!” James yelled back, snickering into the voice box. “He’s going to kill me actually”

“That’s a shame- who would I talk to on the phone if he did that?”

“Are you saying you’d miss me doll?”

“What? No- that is not what I said Potter”

“Oh you so would- you’d miss talking to me! you loveeee talking to me-“

“Shut up James! I actually hate you” James could feel the butterflies in his stomach and the beat of his heart in his ears. He didn’t think his smile could spread any wider, as he tucked into his heart the way his name rolled from your lips

“You love me-“ 

“You wish Potter” James pouted at the reappearance of his last name 

“I’m going to ignore you did that-“

“Did what?” you said with a smirk, knowing he’d notice the change in names. He cursed at Merlin silently- 

“Anywho, speaking of you missing me, I haven’t told you about my trip-“

“Where are you going?” 

“On a trip with the boys… camping-“

“Sounds like fun… i think- you excited?”

“Godri- God yes, we had to wait for forever for tickets and I had to basically fist fight this ugly troll-“

“Why do you need tickets for camping Potter?” you cut in 

“Oh- I mean- we’re going camping for this… tournament”

“That sounds exciting! What is it?” James’s throat went dry, he hadn’t thought you’d ask so many questions.

“What?”

“What?” you repeated, confused

“Sorry- It’s just some sports tournament, real small, like umm” he trailed off for a minute, almost muttering to himself. You could hear the rustling of clothing as if he had pressed the phone against his chest to cover the receiver. “Like rugby, yeah?” 

“But it's not rugby?” you asked, an edge in your voice as if saying he didn't make sense, which he didn’t, to be fair. He really needed to watch more muggle telly, he bit his lip.

“Well… no, but sort of?”

“It kind of sounds like you don't know what you're going to Potter— Or is it some weird, obscure nasty thing you don’t want to admit to me?” You said, James ignored the feeling in his gut, the one that made his skin crawl with goosebumps and made the corner of his lips curl

“I assure you it's no such thing- perfectly normal activities” he answered, breathlessly 

“When are you leaving for these supposed normal activities? How long will you leave me for hm?”

James felt like he might short-circuit,

“In like a week I think- you’ll have to do without me for a few days I fear”

You hummed in acknowledgment, and it got silent, for a second. Not long enough for it to grow awkward, which didn’t happen often between you. But it was long enough for James to think. Think about what your face might look like, the smell of your hair, the color of your eyes, he wondered if your eyes would catch the light of the sun in a way that would make his heart beat faster.

He knew they would.

He wondered if your chapstick tasted like fruits, or if you were more of a lipgloss type of girl. What if you wore lipstick instead? That could be kind of messy… Was he thinking of kissing you? When he didn’t even know what you looked like? 

He shook the thought away, quickly

He wondered if you wore flowy clothes in the summer, like the babydoll tops he saw last summer in London. He thought of what you might look like, he knew though, that regardless of it, he was in too deep by now.

Your yawn broke through the silence,

“Don’t fall asleep on me princess- that’s boring” James said, even though he was falling asleep himself. His eyelids seemed heavy and his words felt slurred, he still listened closely to the sounds coming from your side of the receiver

“You’re the boring one-” you yawned again “I’m so fucking tired though… finals are killing me”

“How much do you have left?”

“Not much… two more exams, two more days- feeling okay about them”

“That’s good- I’m sure you’ll do good baby” James didn’t even properly register the nickname slip, charming and cloying on his tongue. It felt natural, like your name. You tensed up on the other side of the telephone

“Goodnight Potter-” you said, words barely a whisper “Sleep well idiot”

“Good dreams doll- you’ll do great tomorrow”

“Thanks, James” It was his turn to tense and sit up, the mention of his name on your lips was enough to wake him back up

The phone call cut.

tags ; @ilovejamespottersomuch @ravisinghs-wife @hidontmindtheintrovert @stella-thestars @caspiankingofnarnia @lovelyteenagebeard @starkluvrr @hisparentsgallerryy @leilani13gc @katsusayhi @auroresce @lovemiss-vale @alessiaparigim @unconventional-lawnchair @moonydoodlez @eissaaaa @ailoda @nahhhwhatthefrick @notapoetjustscar @hiireadstuff @the-rat-king1902 @n1ght-vngel @littlewhitel1es @rreporterbby @santaasi @myheroworldandanimes

permanent tag ; @laufeysvalentine @heyyyloverr

PLEASE PLEASE LMK IF I MISSED YOU also please send me an ask if you wanna be added/removed or i missed you, it is SO much easier for me to keep track than comments BUT STILL COMMENT STUFF I LOVE READING IT AND I LOVE YOU <2 thank you

[miabebe]

Calendar Killer (HJS)

Was it really love if it didn't include just a little madness? What was love if it didn't cross the line? And how was it love if it didn't care whether it was the red of love and the red of blood?

Pairing - Afab!reader x Detective! Hong Jisoo (Joshua)

Word count - 14K (we are back to Mia's inability to be concise)

Genre - Psych thriller, smut (18+), supernatural elements hinted, warnings under the cut!

A/n - This is the last installment of my 95s psych thriller Halloween series - I know its late but I just wanted to finish up what I committed to. Also, this is the wildest thing I have ever written, I'm not kidding, buckle up! I do suggest reading Jeonghan's and Cheol's before this!

Thank you to Lola ❤️ @monamipencil, the love of my life for beta reading this and filling our chat with 'oh my god's and frantic comments - I'm a lot more pleased with this piece now hehe

Warnings - Please note that this fic is dark, not morally appropriate at all and as psychotic as it gets. With that being said, let's goooo - people missing, mentions of deaths, bodies, murders, serial killer, mentions of stalking, choking, blowjobs, throat fucking, hair pulling, cum in mouth, masturbation, manhandling, unprotected sex, rough sex, marking, slight dubcon, creampie, psycho thoughts and behaviour

The station buzzed with the oppressive hum of a fluorescent light, flickering occasionally. The air was thick with the musty scent of old paper, the subtle clicking of the typewriter and cold winds blowing in through the open door.

“Great job today boss.” 

Joshua looked up from the paperwork strewn across his desk at Minho standing by the coffee machine, a mug in hand. the dark circles stark under his eyes. It had been a sleepless few weeks for everyone in his team and nights at the station were only getting longer and longer. 

Giving a tired nod of acknowledgement, Joshua turned his attention to what he liked to call his ‘murder board’. Wrong choice of name yes, but someone once told him that positive manifestation was a real thing. Maybe if he kept calling it a ‘murder board’ for long enough, one day he’d finally find himself climbing the ranks, handling real murder cases. He knew with just a little more power in his hands, he could be brilliant - he was a good detective, he had great intuition, he was sharp, efficient. Oh he’d make a fantastic sergeant or maybe even a lieutenant but instead, here he was, sitting in a tiny cubicle, the pages of his case files scattered across his desk, each one heavy with unanswered questions.

Six missing persons cases. That’s what Joshua was stuck on now.

Given his brilliance, it normally didn’t take more than a week for him to crack a case but these? These cases had turned into a three-month-long nightmare of frustration - endless hours of interrogation, dead end leads and constant running in circles. What bothered Joshua the most was that he had spent five years in the field, aced every exam, and most importantly, the sergeant position had been vacant for two months—ever since Hye Jin left for maternity leave. And yet, here he was, stuck in this cubicle, staring at the empty faces on case files, with no promotion in sight. How could he ever climb the ranks with these six cases making him look like an undeserving amateur?

One miracle—that’s all he needed. Six miracles, really. One clue per case, just a single point he had missed, one thing he might have overlooked. Shutting his eyes and leaning back in his chair, he sighed, wondering where on Earth he should look for answers. If only they walked into the station, looking for him. 

And then, you did. 

The creak of the door was what made Joshua’s eyes flicker up, following you as you stepped into the precinct.  You were wet from head to toe, hair sticking to your face and neck, your knee-length white nightgown clinging to your body as if you’d been caught in a downpour.

Joshua glanced outside. 

The sky was gray and heavy, but it was not raining. 

He frowned, rising from his chair. “Can I help you?”

You didn’t speak right away, your eyes darting around the room, searching for something. Joshua’s instincts flickered to life. Something was off, not in a way that screamed danger. Just… unsettling.

Water dripped all over the floor as you walked barefoot, struggling to take steps, shaking eyes, trembling lips and bruised knees accompanying you. Hand hovering over his pager, Joshua’s gaze shifted to his team, who were quietly filling the room, all of them sensing the shift in the air.

 “Are you okay?” He took a tentative step toward you, searching for answers on your face when you refused to meet his eyes. Instead they kept darting nervously over your shoulder and towards the door as though someone was about to follow you in. 

Joshua frowned at the entrance. “Is someone else coming-” 

“Don’t look.” You whispered, grabbing his hands, skin cold and grip tight. “I need help.” 

With a single gesture, Joshua had his team pull up a chair for you as he shrugged off his jacket and wrapped it around your trembling shoulders before gently guiding you to sit. The air around you hummed, almost electric, as if something unknown was lingering.

Stepping back, Joshua leaned against his desk. “What’s going on?”

You hesitated, glancing nervously around the room. When you finally met his eyes, Joshua softened his expression, silently urging you to speak.

“Talk to me.”

“I.. I’m..” You muttered, your hands nervously fiddling with the fabric of your nightgown. “I’m being followed.” 

Joshua's brow furrowed, and he exchanged a glance with his team who immediately began heading towards the door. But you shook your head, fear evident in your voice. “They’re already here. In the precinct.”

“What do you mean?” He studied the room, his mind racing as everyone began frantically looking around, more alert than ever. “No one came in after you-” 

“Y-you can’t see them.” You raised your head, looking directly over Joshua’s shoulder, gulping. “.....Only I can.” 

Joshua followed your line of vision, his eyes finding the empty corner of the room. What on earth were you looking at? 

“I don’t understand, Miss…?” 

“Y/n,” Your voice was steady despite the fear in your eyes.

“Miss Y/n.” Joshua hesitated but still squatted in front of you, his eyes level with yours. “I’m here to help. You have to tell me exactly what’s happening..” 

Taking a shaky breath, you pulled the jacket closer to your body. “It started a week ago, I was coming back from the supermarket and there was a woman, standing right at the edge of the street.” 

“Was she someone you knew?” 

You shook your head. “I could sense her following me all the way home so I made sure to close the door as soon as I stepped inside but when I went into the kitchen…. ..she was already there.“ 

Joshua’s jaw tightened as he listened, watching you gulp the phantom lump in your throat. 

“I grabbed a knife and ran out, screaming for help, but when I brought my neighbor in… there was no one. It was like she vanished…. disappeared, into thin air.”

Joshua’s brows furrowed. “She ran off before you got back?”

You didn’t answer the question, simply continued. 

“Then the next day she was there again, but this time with three others. It was too early in the morning, the street was empty, I-I couldn't even ask anyone for help. When I entered the house I locked myself in again, but when I went into the kitchen…” You let out a shaky breath. “They were already inside. And just like before, when I tried to get help… they disappeared.”

 Joshua leaned forward, concerned.

 “The third day there were more of them, but this time I ran back to the store to get the cashier or the other townspeople to help me but no one could see them….. even though there were, standing right there, at the door, no one could see them.” 

The room grew tense as Joshua exchanged looks with his team. What was happening here?

“Miss Y/n are you sure they were there?” Joshua asked, his voice low.

“I’m not crazy,” You whispered, voice trembling. “They were there then… and they’re here now. All ten of them, right behind you.” 

Joshua felt something cold trickle down his spine. This time, he didn’t feel like looking behind him..

“Y-you can’t see them because they…” You hesitated.. “They are spirits.” 

The room that was already quiet to begin with grew more silent. Even the fluorescent light seemed to pause, waiting for someone to break the tension. Joshua blinked in disbelief, then scoffed softly.

“Spirits?” He repeated, incredulous. “You’re saying ghosts are following you?”

You didn’t flinch at his tone. Your gaze remained serious, too serious as you nodded.

Joshua’s eyes flickered to his team, who were exchanging nervous looks. Things were slipping beyond the edge of rational thought. Was this the universe’s way of taunting him? Yes he has always wanted to work on more complex cases but a beautiful looking seemingly mad woman who could see spirits? That was not on his bucket list. Nor was it his expertise. 

Ji Ho, the only woman on the team and ever the skeptic, slowly walked up to you, her voice calm but firm. “Miss Y/n, don’t worry, we can get you the help you need-” 

“You think I’m crazy.” You shook your head, eyes wide, desperate and not leaving Joshua’s “I swear, you have to believe me, I’m not insane.” 

Realising you wouldn’t cooperate, Joshua held up a hand, signaling for Ji Ho to step back as he slowly reached for his pager, dialing in the code for help.

 “I promise we’ll help you Miss Y/n, you need to trust us-.” 

Suddenly, moving with startling speed, you grabbed the pager out of his hands, anger in your eyes sharp. 

“You’re not listening!” You hissed, your grip tightening around the tiny device. Your hands, which had been shaking just moments before, suddenly stilled. It was as if you had snapped into a new state of resolve - you weren’t just pleading for help anymore; there was something else behind your gaze. Demand.. “These spirits won’t leave me until I give them what they want and you're the only one who can help me do that. I-I can’t live like this anymore.”

Joshua’s fingers tightened around the edge of the desk, his knuckles turning white. Something was off. You were clearly in distress, but there was something more beneath the surface. Something dangerous. The guard he had called for arrived at the door, waiting for his orders. Joshua nodded at Ji Ho who understood immediately and whispered something into his ears. As the uniformed man took off, Joshua walked over to this seat, pulling out a book and a pen. He had to engage you till he had help, he had to play his cards right. 

“Fine.” He flipped to an empty page, ready to write. “Tell me more. These spirits, what do they want?” 

“T-they’ve been telling me their stories, about who they are, about what happened”

“Okay…. Who are they?” Joshua tapped his pen against the surface. “Do you know their names?”

You shook your head. “I…I don’t but, I can ask.”

Looking around the room at nothing in particular you began mumbling something. Slowly, one after the other, you started dropping names as though you were repeating after an invisible, unheard voice. Joshua scribbled them down, eyes constantly darting towards the door, waiting for help. But as the list got longer, with each name he wrote, Joshua felt his guts twist. 

As did the whole team.

 Because they had all spent enough nights on those case files to have every detail memorised. 

Six of the ten names were the missing cases they had been working on. 

“A-are you sure these… these are the six names?” 

“Ten.” You corrected him. “Yes, these are the ten names.” 

Ji Ho met Joshua’s eyes from across the room, shaking her head. How could it be? More than half the names matching their list of victims, this…. This couldn’t just be a coincidence right? 

“You said you can see them? Can you, maybe, describe one of them for me?” Joshua studied your face as your eyebrows furrowed. “The old woman, Ye Soon, what does she look like?” 

“S-she’s around 60 years old. White hair, kind of like a curly bob. She’s got scoliosis so she stands a little crookedly.” You looked at the empty space behind him. “She also has a burn mark on her right hand.” 

Joshua froze. You were right. Down to every detail. 

“And Macy?” 

You turned around, looking over by the window. “She looks like a typical college kid - soft features, long straight hair, cheeks a bit sunken. She also peels the skin by her nails, they’re all bruised.” 

Right again. Your words matched the photos tucked away in the case file almost exactly. 

“And Jason-” 

“Officer Hong, we’re wasting time.” You shook your head. “Describing them is of no use, it doesn’t matter. What matters is what happened to them.” 

“You mean….” Joshua tapped his foot, his mind racing, the realisation just dawning upon him.. “You mean how they died?” 

“I mean how they were murdered.” You lowered your voice just a little. “And now they want justice.” 

The silence now was cold, heavy and deafening. No one knew what to do - the weight of your words had immobilised them all. 

“Josh.” Ji Ho, the only one unable to stay silent anymore, stepped up. “A word?” 

Excusing himself, Joshua got up and made his way to his team, all seven of them huddling around. Some of them looked terrified, constantly looking around, some looked at him plain confused like they still hadn’t put the pieces together. 

“Something’s wrong.” Ji ho crossed her arms. “There’s no way she-” 

“Knows the exact names and descriptions of missing people? Details of a private investigation?” Minho quipped. “I think it finally makes sense why we’ve not been able to trace these people…. They're dead.” 

“Which means all this while what we should have actually been looking for, are bodies.” Jaehyun sighed.

“What?” Ji ho looked at the boys like she couldn’t believe they were falling for this. “You think this is real? You think spirits are actually talking to her?” She turned to Joshua. “Please tell me you’re smarter than to believe in this madness.” 

“I don’t know what to believe right now.” Joshua pinched the bridge of his nose, lost in thought. “I think we should hear what she has to say-” 

“Josh-” 

“Ji Ho, we've been on these cases for months without a single solid lead.” He sighed. “As impossible as this might seem, I am desperate and I want to take a shot.” 

“You’re wasting the team’s time. I don’t think-” 

“She came to me, the case is mine,” Joshua looked at her pointedly. “So I call the shots.” 

Throwing her hands in the air, Ji Ho walked away, refusing to be a part of what she mumbled - a meaningless spectacle. Joshua returned, pulling a chair up, sitting right before you. Although he was the one who wanted answers, you beat him to the questioning. 

“You don’t believe me do you?” You sounded so scared. “You think I’m insane.” 

“I want to believe you, trust me Miss Y/n, you have no idea how easy it would make my life to believe you, six of these people are actually….” Shaking his head he held himself back, sticking to what was important. “The point is, you have come to the right place for help, the law can help you. But the law also requires proof, you need to prove what you’re saying is true.” 

You gulped, tapping your feet unsure, eyes darting around. 

“Ye Soon, that old woman.” You looked at him, slightly hesitating. “What if I took you to her?” 

Joshua frowned confused.

“What if I showed where she is…. “ Scooting closer to him, you whispered. “She told me everything, I can take you to where her body is.” 

Ji Ho looked at Joshua with narrowed eyes. Joshua returned her look with an unreadable expression. As though the universe had timed it all, the guard finally returned with help - two men dressed in soft blue scrubs carrying the logo of the town’s only psychiatric hospital. 

There were one of two things Joshua could do. He knew sending you away was the right thing to do, he knew you needed help, he knew listening to you was madness. 

But he also knew you were the closest thing to answers he had gotten in months. 

Turning to you, he pulled your chair closer. “Show me.” His voice was low, urgent. “Right now.”

Joshua stood by the back door, the rain slashing against the pavement like a thousand tiny daggers. He lit his cigar, inhaling the smoke as the faint hum of the town’s heartbeat seemed to vanish into the downpour. The cold air bit at his skin, but he didn’t care. His thoughts, heavy with the case, weighed him down more than any storm ever could.

Beside him you stood, leaning against the brick wall, your arms holding on to his jacket, wrapped around your midsection as if bracing against the cold. Your damp nightgown had long since dried, but the way you stood, your shoulders slightly hunched, made it seem like you were still caught in the storm.

Joshua couldn’t help but watch you. Something about you unsettled him, though he couldn’t put his finger on it. His eyes found their way to you, running all over your features, lingering longer than they should have. 

“Smoking is bad for your health.” 

You finally spoke, looking at him with those big eyes. Brown, soft, expressionless eyes. 

“I believe every man should have some bad habit.” Joshua chuckled, offering a small smile. “Keeps him grounded.” 

You laughed softly—a sound that almost got lost in the rain’s incessant roar, but thankfully, his ears were sharp enough to catch it.

“Do you have a bad habit Miss Y/n?” 

You hummed, looking far off at the quiet darkness of the town. “I don't know if this is bad but, I tend to go to any lengths to help the people I love.” 

Joshua’s lips pressed together. His gaze flicked to you, considering your words. “Must be why the spirits chose to talk to you,” he muttered, more to himself than to you. “Maybe they knew you’d help no matter what.”

When he turned to see what you thought of that, he found a small almost imperceptible smile tugging the corner of your lips. It was subtle, but present, making his chest tighten unexpectedly 

“What?” he asked, his voice betraying the flutter in his chest.

You shook your head, still smiling. “I’m just relieved you believe me.” 

How could he not? Afterall, Ye Soon was indeed where you said she would be - at the abandoned ice cream factory, tucked away in a large freezer, the body months old and ice cold. His team—especially Ji Ho—had recoiled in disbelief, but you? You hadn’t flinched. You stood aside, quiet and composed, as the body was recovered.

Over the last two hours, samples of hair, nails, fluid and whatever else that could be found were gathered and sent to the forensic lab for analysis but Joshua had a bigger question to address. 

“Is…” He took a deep breath. “Is Ye Soon somewhere around here?”

“She’s by the gate.” You turned to him. “Why?”

“I just want to confirm….. you’re sure she didn’t see the face of her killer?”

On the ride back, you had recounted Ye Soon’s entire story to the team. How she had felt  like she was being stalked for a long time. How she didn’t usually go anywhere at night but on the evening of her birthday, she couldn’t resist the free dinner invitation she received. How she was walking to the restaurant, dressed up and all alone when she was attacked from behind. 

You shook your head, expression slightly dejected. “No, her killer wore a mask so she had no idea who it was. One moment she was hit on the head and bleeding to death and the next, she found herself looking at her body in the freezer…. as a spirit.” 

“If justice is what she wants, it's going to be hard without having any idea who the killer is.” He sighed. “For now, we can start looking into why a freezer was functioning in an abandoned factory for the last 4 months but…. I’m not sure if it’ll lead to anything solid.” 

“Don't lose hope already.” You pushed yourself off the wall, taking a step closer to him. “The forensic team might have some answers.” 

“I hope so.” He nodded, but his thoughts were elsewhere. His gaze lingered on you, and for a brief moment, he imagined what it might be like to trust you completely. “Miss Y/n, I'll need you to lead me to the other nine bodies too. I hope it won’t be too much trouble for you.”

“Of course not.” You shook your head, hand finding his wrist reassuringly. “Although one of them is quite far and it's already past midnight-”

“Not now, tomorrow morning.” He glanced at your eager expression, hands itching to tuck that tiny strand of hair behind your ear. “It's late now, you should head home.” 

You nodded, drawing your hand back, and Joshua already missed the warmth of your touch. Taking a step back, you attempted to remove his jacket, but when a strong gust of wind blew, a shiver ran down your body.

Joshua chuckled, pulling it up your arms, adjusting it over your shoulders. “Keep it, it suits you better.” 

“Careful officer.” You smiled at him. “If you come asking for it again, I won't give it back.” 

“Fine by me.” He laughed. “Let me grab my keys, I'll drop you.” 

“That's okay, I'll walk.”

“It's raining Miss Y/n. I don't think-”

“I like walking in the rain.” You stuck your hand out in the pouring water. “Makes me feel good.” 

“I could walk you.” 

“It’s not like I don’t have company.” Joshua frowned as you giggled. “The spirits, officer. They follow me everywhere.” 

That flicker of something playful in your eyes - Joshua was seeing it for the first time. When you had walked in here earlier you had been so terrified, shaking, desperate for help. Now you seemed so unfazed. Maybe you were glad that you were finally getting help. Maybe you were never really terrified. Either way, the unsettling shift in your demeanor troubled his mind. 

“You sure you’ll be okay?” His tone was lighter than he intended, masking what he was truly feeling.

“I’ll be fine,” You brushed him off with the wave of a hand. “I’ll just get lost in my own thoughts, without any distractions.”

Joshua didn’t stop you as you began walking. He simply watched as you glanced over your shoulder, muttering a small “good night” before stepping into the rain. Slowly, as your figure was swallowed by the darkness of the night, Joshua retreated into the debate in his mind. Should he follow to make sure you weren’t in trouble?

Or were you the trouble that was looming around the corner?

Joshua leaned back in his chair, his eyes locked on the scattered files in front of him. The low hum of the fluorescent lights above, along with the steady, almost rhythmic tap of his fingers against the desk, were the only sounds that filled the otherwise silent room. The pile of crime scene files seemed to grow heavier with each glance—each one a grim reminder of the ten bodies they had recovered. Ten people dead, each with their own story, now reduced to nothing more than photos, forensic reports, and police notes.

Two weeks. Two long weeks of following the trail you’d led them to, finding all ten victims hidden in the most unimaginable locations, each one’s story recounted with haunting detail. As per protocol, his team had collected every piece of evidence they could find, and the progressive inspection of each item only further corroborated your stories. Ji Ho, who had initially resisted being part of this madness, had also joined, keenly looking into the details of the investigation.

There was just one detail that Joshua could not wrap his head around - the fact that all ten victims had apparently not seen their killer’s face. 

Each one had been attacked from behind - either struck on the head, run over by a car, strangled from behind or shoved off a building. It was always from the back, perfectly concealing their perpetrators face, keeping that identity a mystery.  Aside from this one detail which was making the progress of his investigation incredibly difficult, Joshua did not notice anything strikingly similar amongst all the cases. 

That was until he was staring at his now very real murder board earlier today. 

It was filled with a dozen pictures and pins, only getting messier with every detail but there was one connection Joshua happened to piece as he searched for the finer details - Ye Soon was going for a dinner on her birthday, Macy was returning from a birthday party her friends had thrown her, Jason was going to meet his girlfriend to celebrate his birthday….. All ten of them had died on their birthday and not just that - all of their birthdays fell on the 30th of the month. 

And that was when the pieces clicked. Joshua arranged all ten cases according to a timeline, spanning from January this year to November. Every month on the 30th, right on their birthday, one victim had died and Joshua knew for a fact that this was a pattern because there was no victim in February - the only month without a 30th. 

This was an MO. This wasn’t the work of ten different killers. It was one. One serial killer.

The moment he realized this, he knew he should share it with his team, but for some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to. Perhaps it was because he knew the moment he revealed this discovery, all eyes would turn to one person—You.

And sure enough, the door slammed open and Ji Ho entered, a thick file in her hand. 

“I heard back from forensics.” She walked over, setting the papers on his table. “But you’re a brilliant detective Joshua, so you must have already figured this out.” 

“What?” Joshua sipped on his coffee, trying to appear nonchalant. 

“There were many different DNAs collected at the crime scenes, but one particular DNA was found at every single one.” 

Fuck. There it was.  His worst fear, out loud.

“This is clearly a serial killer Joshua.” When he didn’t meet her eye, she moved into his line of vision. “For heaven’s sake, why are you trying to protect her?” 

“Who?” Joshua shot back, his jaw tightening.

“Y/n.” She spoke through gritted teeth. “Please tell me you’re not being an infatuated fool-” 

“I’m not a fool.” 

“But you don’t deny the infatuation.” Ji Ho’s voice rose as she pointed at him. “I’ve seen you two over the last many days - you think I don’t recognise the way you look at her?” 

“Ji Ho, just because the two of us were once a thing and it didn’t work out-” 

“This isn’t about us!” She threw her hands in the air, frustration evident. “You know I’m more professional than that. This is about you. You saw a petite, pretty damsel in distress who told you a sob story and leaned on your shoulder and you decided to forget about everything sensible.” 

“You aren’t being sensible!” Joshua turned to face her, anger simmering. “Ji Ho, if Y/n was the killer why would she lead us to the bodies? Why would she try to implicate herself?” 

“You know how the brains of psychos work. They think they’re too smart, that they’ll never be caught.” Ji Ho crossed her arms. “This is just a game for her.” 

Joshua shook his head. “She’d have to be too dumb to expose herself like this. Using the paranormal to do it, don’t you think it’s too much?” 

“I knew you wouldn’t believe me.” Ji Ho let out a heavy breath. “So I did what I had to do. I called Y/n here.” 

He frowned. “Why?” 

“I took a sample of her hair without her knowledge and sent it to the lab.” Ji Ho took a step back, her eyes cold. “In a short while, we’ll know if that DNA matches hers… You’ll have your answers then.” 

“Ji Ho, this wasn’t my order—”

“I’m sorry but I don’t care, Josh.” She stopped her tracks by the door. “We might have been in love years ago, but I know what you are like. You’ll do anything to protect her and I cannot just sit back and watch you indulge in this stupidity.” 

“I’m none of your fucking concern!” Joshua’s voice rose in frustration as she walked out without another word. “Ji Ho, come back here, goddammit!”

Frustrated he slammed his hands on the table, the coffee cup toppling to the ground. It wasn’t like Joshua hadn’t thought of this possibility but this was his case to solve. He wanted to talk to you first, hear whatever it was from your mouth, not some cold DNA report.

Recalling Ji Ho say that you were here, Joshua bolted out of his room to the visitors lounge. There you were, sitting on the couch with your feet pulled up, flipping through a magazine while the sound of a Spanish telenovela played in the background. Annoyed by the noise, Joshua grabbed the remote and switched it off before walking toward you.

 In the sudden absence of the sound you looked up, eyes finding him, a smile spreading across your face as he sat beside you on the couch. Normally, Joshua wouldn’t sit so close to a witness—or take her hand in his—but you were different.

“Hi.” You whispered. “You look tense.” 

“How long have you been here?” 

“About half an hour,” You rubbed his arm comfortingly. “Ji Ho said you wanted to talk to me.” 

Joshua swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. “There’s been some progress in the case.”

You turned to him, curious. “Did you find any of the killers?” 

“Not exactly.” He shook his head. “I…I got a lead, though. Actually I’m not sure it’s much of a clue.” 

“What is it?” 

“All of them were killed on the 30th of the month.” He watched you closely, studying your face for any flicker of recognition, of guilt. “It seems like a pattern. Like this might be the work of one person.” 

“One person?” Your eyes widened. “You mean like a serial killer?”

Joshua nodded. 

“A serial killer who kills on the 30th of every month.” You muttered, lost in thought. “Why the 30th?” 

“I don’t know.” He shrugged, his voice tight. “Maybe they don’t like the number.”

“I won’t be surprised.” You pursed your lips. “I’ve never really liked the number 30 either. It’s like a deadline... something always looming, reminding you of the things you haven’t done. The things you can’t undo.”

Joshua blinked, trying to keep his expression neutral. Please, please, please, this can’t be true.

“But if I am right and if this is a pattern,.” He stared at their intertwined hands. “30th December is not far off and maybe they have another victim in their sight…. I need to find this killer soon.” 

“If it is a serial killer then this is much easier than we thought.” You reassured, turning towards him. “Think about it, isn’t it better to find one person than ten? And won’t all the evidence help you narrow down who the culprit is? All you have to do is something common amongst them all, right?”

Joshua nodded. Exactly. It was easy. Which meant it couldn’t have been you, could it? You wouldn’t have committed those crimes and then set up a trap for yourself would you? That made no sense. 

Or perhaps Joshua was refusing to see sense in it. Perhaps he was so drawn by you that he couldn’t bring himself to see reason. 

With each passing day, he had found his eyes lingering less over the crime scene and more over you. With each body being discovered, it was like the weight on your shoulders was lessening. You seemed more free, more at peace, more…..beautiful. Whenever your eyes met his, you began to smile. Whenever he rode his bike and you sat behind him, he felt his heart do a somersault in his chest. Just watching you walk into the station every morning made him feel a relief like no other.

Joshua had begun to like these small things. Your presence, your tiny quirks, the way you told stories, even though they were quite horrendous recounts, he liked how expressive your face was. He liked you. 

And it was evident you liked him too.

At first, Joshua thought you liked to be around him because you felt safe but slowly you began sitting closer to him than usual. You began following him on walks to survey perimeters, holding his hand when you tripped but not letting it go even when you were steady. He could tell by the way you looked at him - you felt the same thing he was feeling. That undeniable attraction, that magnetism. 

Except there was only one tiny thing between the two of you - you might be a potential murderer and Joshua might have to implicate you for your crimes. Which is why none of this could be true. You could not be the killer. 

But no sooner than he thought that, the door to the visitors room flung open making the two of you jump apart and Ji Ho stepped in, a thin file in her hand. 

“The results are back.” Her eyes flickered between both of you. “I’m sorry Josh but the DNA matches…. It’s her.” 

Joshua's heart dropped. The words echoed in his mind, and for a split second, the world seemed to stop.

It was you. You were the killer.

Joshua stood in the observation room, his eyes locked on you through the two-way mirror. 

You were slouched at the table, head low, your exhaustion palpable. The harsh light above cast long shadows across your face, making your features appear fragile and worn. Joshua’s heart tightened as he watched you. He longed to step in, to pull you close and promise that everything would be okay, but he couldn’t. He had to remain detached, professional—even though every instinct screamed to comfort you.

For the past three days, he had avoided entering the interrogation room, choosing instead to watch from the observation window, a silent witness to your suffering. He could see the strain in your eyes each time you pleaded for belief, for a chance to prove your innocence. Occasionally, you’d look towards him, and in those fleeting moments, it was as if you could see him right through the mirror. The desperate, pleading look you gave shattered something inside him—his resolve, his detachment. Every time, he felt that same arrow pierce his heart, and yet, he remained still, unable to intervene. Helpless.

His gaze flickered to Minho, who had just entered the room, pulling up his sleeves with the usual resolve. Joshua turned away from the mirror, his jaw tightening. He had to hold it together. He couldn’t let Minho see how he was unraveling inside.

“It’s my turn boss.” He glanced at Joshua. “Unless you want to?”

Joshua shook his head, sipping on his coffee. Minho sighed, pulling the door open and stepping in, catching you off guard with his sudden appearance. Joshua watched the man as he took a seat, settling the files on the table before you. 

“Where’s Joshua?” You asked, your eyes flickering toward the door expectantly.

“I’ll ask the questions Miss.Y/n.” Minho cleared his throat a little too loudly.

“For the last time,” You sighed. “I did not do it. I am not the killer-” 

“I’m not suggesting you are the killer Miss Y/n.” He pushed the file towards you. “I simply want you to explain why your DNA has been found on all ten sites.” 

“I’ve already told you,” you leaned back in your chair, frustration evident in your voice. “When the spirits first talked to me, I went to some of those locations to make sure I wasn’t losing my mind. How many times do I have to repeat myself?”

“You mentioned you went to-” He flipped through the papers “-four sites. Then how was your DNA found at all ten?” 

“Maybe because I was the one who led you to those locations,” you shot back, crossing your arms.

“Are you suggesting we are stupid enough to mess up the sample collection?” Minho’s voice grew colder. “That we sat back and let you contaminate those crime scenes?”

“Then are you suggesting that I am stupid enough to commit ten murders and walk into a station and implicate myself?”  you retorted.

Minho leaned back, narrowing his eyes.“I don’t know Miss Y/n. I’m looking for you to give me the answers.” 

“For god’s sake!” You slammed your palm onto the table, frustration boiling over. “If you think I’m going to cave to this tortuous questioning and admit to something I didn’t do, you’re wrong. I. Didn’t. Do. It.” 

“But you could have helped the killer.” Minho shrugged. “The sentence for an accomplice to murder is less severe Miss Y/n, if you admit to it, we can help you-” 

“I don’t need your help because I did not do this.” You glanced at the mirror,your eyes locking with Joshua’s yet again. “I made a mistake coming here thinking you could help me, you’d help them. But now I am being held here, blamed for something I didn’t do.” 

Joshua’s grip on his coffee tightened, his gaze sliding away from you. He had nothing to say.

Minho exhaled sharply. “Miss Y/n, you are being held because the evidence clearly points at you-” 

“Or maybe I’m here because you need a scapegoat to take the fall.” you interrupted, voice dripping with bitterness.

Surprised, Joshua straightened out. 

“I heard six of these cases were in fact missing people that your team hadn’t been able to find in months.” you continued, your tone mocking. “Convenient isn’t it, to blame it all on the only other person involved in the uncovering of the crime scene? A nice, easy way to wrap this up neatly.” 

“Are you implying that one of us manipulated the evidence to make it look like you’re the killer?” Minho snapped.

“I didn’t say that,” you tilted your head, your gaze sharp. “But you seem to be admitting to it.”

“Miss Y/n, don’t twist my words….” 

But there was no need to. 

Joshua took a step back, mind running through the possibilities. About who might have such a motive, who might have manipulated the evidence…..

There was only one person who popped in his mind. Someone who was as driven as him to solve these cases. Someone who didn’t want to be a part of the investigation but had joined regardless. Someone who could possibly benefit from trapping you in this case. 

Ji Ho. 

Joshua knew his ex girlfriend well enough to dismiss this possibility of her involvement. It was the reason the two of them had broken up - She was incredibly competitive, she never seemed to remember the relationship the two of them shared when they were in a professional space, she was never happy for him, never acknowledged his achievements.

But that did not mean there was no passion between them outside the walls of the precinct. God they were wild and couldn’t keep their hands and eyes off each other. Things were fine till whatever happened at work stayed at work, but the more Joshua became successful in his career, Ji Ho started bringing her professional grievances home, between them. The suffocation her competitiveness brought forth was what stifled their bond - Joshua couldn’t live with it any longer. 

But maybe, now that he thought about it, this situation allowed her to kill two birds with one stone - on one hand, the cases termed nearly impossible could finally be closed and on the other, you, his new person of interest would be out of the way. Joshua saw the way Ji Ho looked at the two of you, like she didn’t like it one bit - her incriminating you wasn’t exactly impossible. When she had secretly taken a sample of your hair to cross verify with the identified DNA, who’s to say she didn’t plant the other evidence the same way? 

Grabbing his pager from the table, he gave you one last glance before pulling the door open, setting off to look for the woman in question. He had to act fast. He needed to find out if Ji Ho was involved. 

Thankfully he didn’t have to look far, she was right at the visitors room, remote in her hand, watching the same Spanish telenovela that had been perpetually on the station’s TV for months.

“Ji Ho-” Joshua called out.

“Shh,” she raised a hand to silence him, keeping her eyes on the screen. “I’m watching.”

“Is that more important than what’s happening with Y/n-” 

“Honestly? Yeah,” she replied without missing a beat, her tone flippant. “This is actually what helped save her.”

Joshua stared at her, bewildered. “What do you mean, ‘save her’?”

“I think she’s innocent,” Ji Ho said, finally turning to face him.

All points of argument that Joshua had come up with died in his mind. What? 

“You do? You believe she’s innocent?” He placed himself right before the screen. “You were the one who was so sure she did it-” 

“I simply believed the evidence that came up.” She rolled her eyes. “But unlike you, I don’t let my emotions rule over practicality.” 

“I did not-” 

“I know you Josh, I know something is wrong. Your judgement has been clouded for days, you’re not thinking straight. But I am.” She crossed her arms, taking a deep breath. “I knew we needed more irrefutable evidence and most importantly, we needed a motive so I had been looking and asking around. Turns out she has an alibi.” 

“What kind of alibi?” 

“The people at the store confirmed that a few weeks back she had run in, scared and shaking, claiming she was followed. The neighbours also said that she had approached them for help a few times but they didn't see anyone.” 

“Didn't you say that she might have done all that to make her story more convincing?”

“Yes but,” Ji Ho bit her lower lip hesitating. “I also broke into her house-” 

“You what??” 

“-and I found her passport and a couple of other things that prove she wasn't even in town when three or four of those murders happened, the timelines don't match.”

 “So it might not be her?” Joshua let out an inward sigh of relief. “Then… then what about the DNA?” 

“Precisely.” Ji Ho nodded, gesturing him to turn around. “Watch this.” 

Frowning Joshua did, eyes falling on the tv screen. He wasn't really familiar with this show, the only reason he had ever watched it was because Ji Ho was obsessed with it. He did remember this particular part of the plot though - everyone thought Maria was the mother of Lizzy but it was actually her twin, Gloria. 

Twin?.....

“Identical twins have the exact same DNA.” Ji Ho muted the show as his mind raced with the possibilities. “Do you know if Y/n has a twin?”

Joshua shook his head. He didn't ask much about your family or personal life, he didn't really find the chance to have such a conversation but if there was even a possibility….

Rushing out, Joshua barged into the interrogation room where Minho was still badgering you with his questions. 

“Joshua….” You looked up at him, eyes widening. For the first time in days, you saw something other than apology in his eyes. You clung to that look, hoping it meant he was still on your side. Ji Ho followed him, walking into the room right behind, earning a small frown from you. 

“Y/n,” Watching Joshua unable to say anything she walked up, shoving her hands in her pockets. “There's something important we need to know.” 

“What is it?” You continued to look at Joshua who simply nodded softly, signalling you not to worry. 

“Do you happen to have a twin? An identical one?”

Blinking rapidly, you hesitated. “I…. I do, yeah, why?” 

Joshua and Ji Ho exchanged looks. Fuck. 

“Where is she?”

“I- I don't know. We both grew up at the St. Mary orphanage. At around the age of eight, she was adopted. The family didn't want two kids so they only took her in. Few months later I was adopted by a different family so we haven't really seen each other or even heard from each other since then.” Your eyes flickered between both the officers. “Why? What happened?” 

Thank god. Thank fucking god. 

Joshua let out the breath he was holding, shutting his eyes briefly out of relief. 

Ji Ho, who looked both guilty and curious, stepped closer to you. “So you don’t know where she is right now?” 

You shook your head, “But I know she's a Mayor's daughter, I don't remember for which town though.” 

Nodding at Joshua, Ji Ho whispered something into Minho's ears before the two of them hurriedly left the room. Standing up confused, your eyes followed them as Joshua neared you. 

“Joshua what's happening?” 

He didn't say anything, just simply pulled you into a hug, finally feeling your warmth again as you wrapped your arms around his waist. 

“You'll be fine.” He held onto you tighter. “I'm not going to let anything happen to you.” 

Joshua watched you fast sleep on the couch of the visitor’s lounge. 

Curled up, with your hair spilling over your face like a dark veil, you looked peaceful, untouched by the weight of the world. As much as Joshua longed to slip in beside you and to hold you as you slept, he knew better. He had to maintain some distance. The team had already been giving him looks whenever you stood too close to him, leaning over case files, working through the details of the investigation. At least the pity and disdain in their eyes had faded—now that you were cleared, they saw you as less of a suspect. 

Ji Ho, ever the efficient one, had tracked down your twin just a few days ago. She had been found in a town several hours away, barely conscious, dragged into the precinct with the sour smell of alcohol still clinging to her. Standing beside Joshua, you watched your twin in the interrogation room, hungover and dazed, trying to make sense of the evidence mounting against her. Though you hadn’t spoken in years, the ache in your chest was unmistakable. You didn’t want to believe it was her but even after sobering up when she failed to provide any alibi, the truth was undeniable.

Her neighbors, friends, and even family all corroborated the fact that she had fallen deep into drugs, her life spiraling out of control. The last few months had turned her into someone unrecognizable—violent, unpredictable and uncontrollable. No one could vouch for her whereabouts during the killings either and as the investigation wore on, the evidence stacked up against her, leaving little room for doubt. In the end, she was arrested, the case moving forward to court where she was to be prosecuted for her crimes. 

Today was your final day at the station—just a few papers to sign, a final nod to close the investigation. After this, the case would be officially closed and the two of you would not be bound by the investigation anymore - there was no obligation to see each other. 

“You know,” Ji Ho’s voice broke the silence, pulling Joshua out of his thoughts, “just because the case is over doesn’t mean you won’t get to see her.”

Joshua turned to see her standing in the doorway, arms crossed, leaning casually against the frame.

“I know.” He muttered, feeling a familiar pang in his chest. “But how do you always know what I’m thinking?”

She chuckled, stepping into the room. “Because I know you, Joshua. Better than anyone. I just wish you knew me too. I wish you knew me better. I would never incriminate someone out of pettiness.”

He winced, guilt tugging at him. “I’m sorry. I guess I was just ready to believe anything that meant Y/n was innocent.”

Ji Ho glanced at you. “Well, you don't have to worry about that anymore. She is innocent. “ 

“Thanks to you.” He smiled, looking at you slightly shifting in your sleep, mouth now slightly open as you continued to doze off. “She would have still been a suspect if not for your brilliance.” 

“Nah.” Ji Ho waved her hand, dismissing his words. “I only did what I had to, it's my job. But what's really amazing is you cracked the cases Joshua, the ones no one could solve for months. I heard the promotion letter is on the way.” 

“It should have been yours Ji Ho.” Staring at the ground Joshua shifted uncomfortably, refusing to meet her eyes. He couldn't bring himself to. “I know how much you wanted this too, and I… I don’t understand why you gave all the credit to me.”

Ji Ho sighed, her gaze distant. “I did want it. But I felt like you deserved it more, especially for all that I put you through the last many days.” 

“So this is out of pity?” 

“It's out of admiration.” She corrected. “I don't know if I would have been able to keep my calm the way you did when Y/n was being accused. You put your job above everything, you were the one who figured out the killer's MO, you were the driving force of this investigation. It's only right that you go up the ranks.” She then paused as though she was unsure if she should continue. “You can also think of it as an early birthday present from me.” 

Joshua glanced at the calendar, the black rimmed circle placed over 29th December. His birthday was tomorrow. Here he was, too wrapped up in all this to even remember but of course Ji Ho did. Even after all that happened, she remembered. 

“Thanks,” he muttered, trying to mask the sudden rush of gratitude. Before he could say more, his gaze shifted back to you. You were beginning to stir, shifting on the couch, their voices perhaps pulling you from your slumber.

Ji Ho noticed it too, and with a small nod, she tucked her hands in her pockets and began to back out of the room. “I should go. You and Y/n should have a nice celebration tomorrow, okay?”

Joshua smiled, not entirely convinced as she disappeared into the buzz of the busy office. Was he really worthy of a celebration though? Even though the six biggest problems of his life had been solved giving him the promotion he wanted more than anything, Joshua didn't quite find himself fully relieved. It was as though there was something he still wasn't seeing. 

When you finally raised your head, blinking sleepily, Joshua pushed all his conflicting thoughts aside. Right now, only you mattered.

“Morning sunshine.” He smiled softly, voice light.

You glanced at the window, then at the clock. “It's 6pm Joshua.” 

“Yes but you've been sleeping like it's the dead of the night.” 

“Can you blame me?” You yawned. “For the first time in days, I'm able to sleep without thinking about somebody constantly watching me.” When Joshua looked confused, you sat up, crossing your legs. “The spirits, Joshua.” 

“They're gone?” 

“I haven't seen much of them the last few days, ever since she was brought in…..” You trailed off, your gaze flickering down to your restless hands. “I guess they've gotten the justice they're looking for.” 

“I'd have thought they'd stick around at least till the trial.” Joshua looked thoughtful. “She's the Mayor's daughter. What if she buys her way out of this?” 

“I don't know.” You shrugged. “I know her background might allow her to escape this unscathed but I hope not. Perpetrators deserve to be punished.” 

Something about your words stung Joshua differently. Indeed, the perpetrator should be punished, but for that, it was necessary to find the real culprit. A tiny voice in his head was making him doubt his choice. 

“I thought twins were naturally very protective of one another.” He glanced at you carefully. “You seem okay with whatever is happening to your sister.” 

You looked at him incredulously. “Of course I'm upset but you know what she did. I'm not emotionally attached to her because we barely know anything about each other but even if I was, do you think someone who killed so many people deserves to walk freely? The spirits trusted me to ensure they got justice Joshua, how can I let their murderer not face any consequences?” 

Joshua stared at the wall behind you, mind racing to the time it all began with you walking into the station. Your claim about spirits only you could see, all ten spirits being unaware of their killer yet all ten of them conveniently being killed by the same person. Your knowledge of all the crime sites, finding your DNA in every single one. You happening to have a twin sister who, in contrast to your perfect alibis, didn't have any. It was all too easy - was it a lucky coincidence that the spirits found the estranged twin of their perpetrator to be their yielder of justice? Or had he in fact caught the wrong sister…..Joshua felt a chill run down his spine. Somehow, it didn't seem like this case was over - there was clearly more to it. 

He turned his attention back to you, gulping when he realised you were studying his zoned out expression intently. 

“What is it?” You raised an eyebrow. “What are you thinking?” 

“Just…” He cleared his throat. “I wanted to come over and get my jacket back but I realised I didn't even know where you lived.” 

You cocked your head at him, a knowing expression on your face. “I told you - Once you give it to me, I won’t return it if you ask.” 

“Right.” Joshua chuckled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. 

Fuck. This was his one shot to confirm the truth before it was too late. Twins might look identical and even have the same DNA but their fingerprints? Fingerprints were unique even among twins and Joshua wanted to get his hands on yours. His jacket being a leather one would have been an easy way to obtain them but now, he had to think of something else.

“I was thinking, do you want to maybe go out and get dinner today?” He looked at you feigning casualness he was not feeling. “We've never really gotten the chance to do anything outside the precinct, I thought we could spend some time….”

You shook your head softly, a small, apologetic smile playing at your lips as you got up. “Not tonight. I have something I need to do.”

“Something more important than me?” He smiled half-heartedly, trying to mask the hurt. “Than us?” 

Laughing softly you walked up to him, hands clasped behind your hand as you leaned in and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. “I'll be seeing you tomorrow anyway, birthday boy.”

Joshua watched as you slowly pulled away from him and began to leave, the lightness of your kiss still lingering on his skin. It didn’t feel like an intimate gesture, more like a goodbye, a farewell to something unspoken.

He stood frozen, entangled in his web of thoughts, unsure of what to do with himself. But when the moment passed, he made up his mind. - he couldn’t wait any longer. He had to know the truth.

Rushing towards Ji Ho’s cubicle, his heart pounding in his chest, he called out to her breathlessly. 

“You said you broke into Y/n’s place, right?”

Her eyes widened, surprised by his urgency. She nodded.

“I need you to give me the address.”

Joshua slowly pushed the door of your house, both surprised and thankful it was unlocked. 

He had been hiding in the bushes for over an hour now, watching you move around through the glass of the window. About ten minutes ago, you had donned his jacket, pulled your hair into a high ponytail and left the house, walking into the dead of the night. Joshua glanced at his watch - it was 11pm and he had no idea what kind of business you had set off to do. Now that he thought about it, Joshua didn’t know anything about you at all - why then was he so enthralled by you?

He had to snap out of it. He was here to find the truth and that’s what he was going to do. When he was finally convinced that you weren’t returning to grab something you might have forgotten, Joshua mustered his courage and stepped carefully into the dimly lit house, his heartbeat quickening with each creak of the floorboard beneath his shoes. This was the only chance he might have to explore your space, your sanctuary, see who you were outside that mask of affection you always wore when they were together. He knew it was dangerous and reckless, but he had to be sure. 

The house was quiet. Too quiet. It smelled faintly of lavender, mixed with a subtle undertone of something he couldn’t quite place. He moved through the living room, avoiding the clutter of half-empty cups and newspapers, scanning for anything that might give him a clue. The space looked like it hadn’t been cared for in a while, like you hadn’t been home for a long time. Joshua made mental notes of everything as he walked in, his feet taking him around like he had been here a hundred times already. 

It was only when he tripped over the rug that his tracks stopped, prompting him to look at the cause of his near fall - A loose floorboard. Frowning he crouched down and pried it loose, the cool edge of the tile slipping from its mortar with a slight scrape. Underneath, hidden in the narrow compartment, was a small wooden box, its surface worn with time. Turning it in his hands, Joshua pried it open.

Photographs. 

Hundreds of photographs of you. 

No, not you… you didn’t dress in designer wear, drink expensive champagne or drive in a Rolls Royce. This was your sister. 

You had uncountable photographs of her, carefully taken and meticulously arranged. She looked young in some of them and much older in others. Some were clearly taken from a distance while others seemed more intimate, like they’d been taken while she was unaware….. You had been stalking her.

From the looks of it, you had been keeping an eye on her for years, watching her every move. Joshua’s stomach churned, a new sense of unease settling over him. You said you hadn’t seen her in years - you lied. 

Spreading them out on the cold floor, he flipped through them, realising that everyone was right about her - she had an affinity to party and indulge in drugs, often blacking out in the middle of nowhere. But he also realised that she in fact, had an alibi…. A couple of dates on these photos were on the 30th… she couldn’t have possibly been the killer. 

And more importantly, you knew that. If you had taken these pictures, you knew your sister was innocent - yet you watched her be put away behind the bars. 

Fuck. 

This was a terrible mistake. 

Quickly moving, Joshua grabbed the relevant photos - Ji Ho had to see this, the whole team had to see this. But before he could smoothly stash them away in his pocket, he heard the familiar creak of the floorboard at the entrance. You were back. 

Joshua’s breath hitched as the soft footfall of your steps echoed through the quiet room, getting louder and louder by the minute. Panicking, he quickly stuffed everything back in the box, shoved it back into its hidden compartment and placed the floorboard back in place, pretending like nothing had happened.

Just as he stood up, turning towards the sound, his eyes fell on your figure lingering by the large wooden arch, watching him intensely. Slowly, almost deliberately, you closed the distance in between, eyes not leaving him, not blinking. Joshua tensed, his body stiffening with a mix of fear and anticipation. And when you reached him, you didn’t speak - merely tilted your head, your eyes searching his face as if reading something he didn’t want you to see.

Then, without warning, curling your fingers around his collar, pulling him closer, you kissed him. 

Your lips pressed against his, tenderly but also carrying an undeniable weight. Joshua's body froze for a moment, completely caught off guard by the intensity of it, the subtle brush of your lips conveying something far deeper than simple affection. Your hands moved, one sliding up to his neck, the other tangling in his hair, and for a brief second, Joshua forgot himself. His hand cupped your face, as he pushed you back against the wall, kissing you passionately, like he was a hungry man, finally being fed. You moaned as the heat swelled between the pressed bodies, both of you powerless to the undeniable attraction between the two of you. 

Finally, you pulled away, just a fraction, your breath warm on his lips, and in that silence, you softly bit your lower lip, looking at him with big, lust blown eyes. 

"Did I play my part well, Shua?"

Joshua’s heart stuttered in his chest, his breath slowing down, eyes fixed on you. 

And then he cocked his head and gave a short nod.

At last, at fucking last, Joshua allowed the mask to crack, a small, victorious smile dancing on his face. The smile that had once been charming and controlled, faltered at the edges, now that he had come face to face with the full scope of the story he had spun. The facade he worked so hard to maintain, the calculated version of himself that had held the reins of this twisted game, finally slipped away. 

Dragging his hand down from your cheek, he wrapped it around your throat, pulling you closer, angling your face up, pressing contrastingly soft kisses along your jaw. You sighed happily despite struggling to breathe, eyes rolling back as you grabbed his wrist, not to pull his choking hand away, but to hold it in place. Fuck. He loved that you loved this. 

“You did great, baby.” He whispered into your ear. “You did so so well.” 

“A…” He loosened his grip when you failed to speak. “Aren’t you going to reward me then?” 

“Of course I am.” He pulled back, fully letting you go, supposedly to allow you to breathe again. But before you could, hand on your head, he pushed you down, forcing you onto your knees. As you quickly stripped out of his favourite jacket, placing it under you to cushion you from the cold floorboard, he unbuttoned his pants, getting ready for your mouth, his favourite place to be. Within seconds, you took over, pulling his pants down and his dick out, spitting in your hand before stroking it slowly. Joshua slapped your hand away and slipped his thumb between your lips prying your mouth open as he pushed his dick into your mouth. 

“Fuck,” He threw his head back. He had missed this warmth of you, wrapped around him. “That’s it baby, that feels fucking good.”

Pleased with yourself, you hummed around his girth and without a warning, his hand finding the back of your head, Joshua pushed himself further in, your sound of surprise lost in your throat. You didn’t struggle too hard to take him all the way in, afterall, Joshua had been here a hundred times already. When he noticed you were running out of breath, he pushed himself just a little further before completely pulling out, throwing you into a coughing fit. Looking at you disappointedly, he shook his head, 

“You can do better baby.” He tilted your face up. “Don’t you want to do better for me?” 

Nodding eagerly, you took him in your mouth again, bobbing your head around his length just the way he liked it, just the way he had trained you to pleasure him. Without him even needing to say it, you clasped your hands behind you, only your mouth working vigorously, alternating between blowing him fast and letting him deep in your throat. Grinning at you, Joshua wrapped your ponytail around his hand, jerking his hips forward to match your pace, finding his orgasm building in him much sooner than usual. 

Of course it did. Joshua was unusually happy today - afterall, everything he intended went according to plan. He had supposedly solved all six of those never ending missing cases, he had secured his promotion and no one even found out that he was the real killer. 

Throwing his head back, he groaned as you skillfully let him so deep in, your nose nearly touching his groin, your face reddening. Dragging you off his cock, he looked down at you impressed, receiving your fucked out expression in return - eyes blown, drool leaking from the corners of your lips, mouth still open, waiting for more. Chucking, he stroked himself. 

“Strip.” 

And you did, pulling your gown over your head, tossing it somewhere far. Then you unclasped your bra, your perfect boobs spilling out of the cups as Joshua felt his mouth water from the sight of it. He had missed them so bad and by the end of tonight, he was going to irrevocably mark them as his. When you looked at him questioningly about taking off your underwear, he shook his head and pushed you against the wall by your shoulders, the back of your head softly hitting the concrete. Knowing what he was going to do next, you obediently stilled as he held your face with both his hands and, god did he fuck it like there was no tomorrow. 

This was what Joshua loved about you the most - you never complained. Anything he gave, you took it oh so well, beyond his expectations, always proving just how devoted you were to him. That was why he was able to use you as the perfect instrument to orchestrate his scheme. Without you, there was no way he would have been able to secure that promotion and get out of this town. 

He had committed too many crimes here, lingered for too long and if he had spent any longer, he knew the chances of him being caught were high. Although he was meticulous in choosing his victims and ensured they had no family or friends to notice their absence, six out of ten of them had landed on his table regardless. Just looking at the case files annoyed him. How the fuck was he supposed to get promoted if solving the very crimes he committed was the only way to deem him worthy? That meant Joshua needed someone else to take the fall, he needed a scapegoat and a story. 

And that’s what everything so far was. Joshua spun an unimaginable, unbelievable story and centered it around you, his main character. He made you a meek, scared and vulnerable woman, just the kind that good old officer Hong would fall for while he himself played a well crafted role - a man tired of unsolvable cases finding his last ray of hope in a woman he happened to fall for. Being a part of a moral battle, guilt tripping his ex-girlfriend into handing him the promotion and coming out of all this with his love being victorious was just the icing on the cake. It was actually all too easy - the accurate decoding of his team’s psyche was what drove the whole plot. 

He knew most of them were highly superstitious and the idea of spirits would terrify them enough to believe your tale. Although the idea of spirits was absurd and haunting, in a small town like this a touch of the supernatural was precisely what was required to get everyone on the edge, to make coincidences believable, to make the unreal seem real. He knew you wouldn’t mess this up - he spent hours telling you about each victim, making you memorise their appearances, their habits, their stories. He trusted you to do a good job, but it was Ji Ho who was the wild card, the one he had taken a risk with. 

Joshua knew Ji Ho being the realist that she was, would never believe the idea of ghosts and would look only for solid facts and evidence. That’s why he had very meticulously planted your DNA in all ten sites, well aware that his ex-girlfriend would immediately suspect you. He wasn’t trying to trap you, no no, you were his favourite doll - he just needed to somehow introduce the twin twist, his most brilliant plot point. 

Joshua was also well aware of Ji Ho's addiction to that stupid Spanish show - it was only a matter of time before she had a lightbulb moment and considered the idea of you having a twin. From there, it was a cake walk - he had already spent months ensuring your sister did not have significant alibis. Thanks to her drug addiction, she was already naturally sketchy, often aloof and most importantly, frequently unaware of her actions and locations. With the deletion of a few CCTV footages, and ripping up some parking tickets and restaurant bills, Joshua had made sure she had no solid evidence to back her innocence. Her being found in a state too far gone to vouch for the truth was no coincidence too - he had been secretly supplying her with stronger than usual doses of drugs for a while now.

And that’s how things went down exactly like he planned - an innocent person was sitting in jail, waiting to be tried for crimes she didn’t commit while here he was, promoted, free and fucking the mouth of the woman undeniably devoted to him. 

Joshua focused his gaze on you, tears running down your cheek, the back of your throat most definitely bruised but you didn't ask him to stop. Instead you contracted your throat around him, drawing out those tell tale groans as he felt himself nearing his high. With a swift movement he let you go and pulled himself out, jerking himself hard as you waited for him patiently, mouth hanging open. The moment you stuck your tongue out desperately, Joshua came, spurts out white coating your tongue, spilling out of the corner of your mouth, down to your boobs. His chest heaved, much like yours, as he took a step back, letting go his softened length as he glanced at you. His masterpiece, the queen on his chessboard. 

Slowly walking back he pulled up a chair, kicking his pants off before settling down on it. He wanted to pause this, let you catch your breath but the ironic thing was, you yourself didn't want to stop. Getting ready to crawl to him, you leaned forward but Joshua shook his head.

“Take a minute baby.” 

You pouted. “I don't want to.” 

“I know but I need to.” He chuckled, looking pointedly at his currently semi hard length. “Do you want to play with yourself till then?” 

Nodding eagerly, you rested back against the wall, spreading your legs out wide, displaying your nearly soaked underwear for him to see. Fuck. Was that how wet you were from just sucking him off? Joshua bet he would slide all the way in with ease and god did he want to. But he could wait - he had all night to wreck you. 

Raising your hips slightly, you pulled your panties, dragging it down your leg, tossing it to join the rest of your clothes. Sucking two fingers, you slid them along the folds, rubbing and spreading them, soft moans leaving your mouth. Joshua could already feel the blood rush down to his dick again. But not yet, he wanted to savour this sight first. 

He watched as you reached for your clit, putting some much needed pressure on it as your head fell back, breath getting shaky and ragged as the feeling built in you. Your free hand found your boobs, squeezing it hard, the remnants of Joshua's cum smearing filthily. The man almost gave in, ready to rail you into tomorrow when coincidentally, the chime of the clock echoed in the room, indicating it was midnight. 

You stopped moving, eyes glancing at the clock before turning to him, lips breaking into a sweet smile. 

“Happy birthday Shua.”

Cocking his head at you, Joshua returned your smile. 

“Happy birthday to you too sweetheart.”

The two of you sharing birthdays, Joshua didn't know whether to call it fate or a lucky coincidence but it was this similarity that drove the entire plot. It all started 4 months ago when he was looking for his next set of victims. He had just finished up with that old woman, Ye Soon, and frankly, all his targets were getting incredibly easy, serving him no excitement, no thrill. 

He had stopped by at the gas station one day, hopping over to the store to buy a pack of gum when he overheard a bunch of young women chattering away about how the end of the year was packed with back to back parties - first with the Mayor's daughters birthday on the 30th, then new years on the 31st. Joshua had smiled to himself. What a perfect way to end the year indeed - a significant figure like the Mayor's daughter would definitely raise the stakes. Oh it would be so fun. 

And fun it was. 

The Mayor's daughter was a beautiful girl and stalking her was more exciting than Joshua anticipated. He didn't think it would be this easy to follow her around but she had an affinity for running away and falling in trouble. Oh she was perfect. But that was something else that was a little more interesting than the silly shenanigans she was up to - Joshua wasn't her only stalker, you were too.  

At first, Joshua thought his eyes were playing tricks. The two of you were strikingly similar, but as far as he knew, the Mayor only had one daughter, not twins. Upon throwing himself into a little more research, Joshua found out about how the two of you grew up in an orphanage but were adopted into different families and to his luck, you were actually a part of his town. Something told him having you on his side might just make all the difference.  

So he began with meeting you almost regularly at the bee farm you worked in. Not many people dropped by there given the bees were quite terrifying but those tiny things were nothing for Joshua, he had bigger things to focus on. Given he was the only person you saw nearly everyday, a friendship began blossoming between the two of you and you slowly started opening up to him, telling him about your life. About how you hated your sister, how you were the one the Mayor wanted to adopt but she had locked you in the storeroom while she took your place and left to live a life full of luxuries. You on the other hand were taken in by two farmers who were negligent, unbothered and died very early in your life in a car crash. Since then you grew up isolated, constantly looking at your sister's life bitterly, knowing that it should have been yours. 

Joshua's joy knew no bounds when he discovered the tumultuous relationship between you sisters. Oh this could be his most elaborate scheme yet, so many birds to hit with one stone. But the first and most important thing he needed for that was for you to be irrevocably in love with him. 

Surprisingly, that was the easiest part. All it took was some praise, some attention and a few sessions of love making - within a month, you were ready to do or die for him. Then all he did was feed you his sorrows - talk about how he wasn't getting a promotion because his ridiculous ex was interfering in his workplace, about how he needed to do something exemplary to climb the ranks. That's how he had convinced you to do this stint - you promised you'd go to any extent for him and in exchange, Joshua promised you revenge. This was your chance to get back at your sister for ruining your life. 

You did however keep asking him who the real killer was. Joshua knew you were head over heels for him, but he wasn't sure if you'd really stick through something as dark as his past. He didn't want to take the chance before his plan came to fruition. But now as he observed you looking up at him with earnest eyes as you fingered yourself, he wondered if you were ready to know more. Sure you listened to everything he said, going faster when he instructed you, stopping when he asked you to, even though you were almost about to cum, you loved him enough to listen. But was it enough to handle more?

He could find out about that later, right now he had enough of looking at you pleasuring yourself, he needed to be inside you urgently. 

“Come here.” 

Standing up immediately, you walked over to him as Joshua fixed his eyes between your legs, at the arousal dripping down your inner thigh. Using your own fingers, he collected your release, slipping them into his mouth, relishing the taste of you. No matter how many times he had eaten you out and made you scream on his tongue, every time felt heavenly. 

Grabbing you by the thighs he pulled you closer and you already knew what you had to do. Turning around, you leaned back against him, grabbing his dick from behind and aligning it with your wanting hole before sinking down on it slowly. 

“It doesn't matter how many times I fuck you.” Joshua groaned, relishing the way your walls fluttered around him. “You're still so tight.” 

You didn't say anything in response, it didn't seem like you could, not with his dick so far in you. 

“Fuck yourself on me baby.” He whispered, his grip on your waist bruisingly tight. “This is your reward.” 

Muttering a string of thank yous, you began moving, rotating and rocking your hips, wantonly squeezing him tight. Joshua knew you were trying to reach for those sensitive spots so he let you, biting and sucking on the soft skin of your shoulder instead, leaving a trail of red. When you began clamping around him unbelievably tightly, he landed a warning smack on your ass.

“Move.”

And you did, bouncing up and down his length vigorously, pouring your everything into it, loud moans tumbling out of your mouth. Squeezing your boob hard, he trailed his hand up your chest, wrapping it around your neck, holding you against him while his other hand found your clit, drawing figure eights. It didn't take you much to fall apart around him considering you had already fucked yourself on your fingers for a while. Joshua could feel your arousal dripping down his length as he continued to thrust his length up. 

“Sensitive…” You whined, holding his hand tight, when he just wouldn't stop. “Shua please…” 

“Shh.” He muttered, pushing you off him much to your surprise before getting up himself and throwing you onto the chair instead, your knees on the seat as your hands held the backrest. Joshua stripped out of his shirt tossing it aside before he smacked you again hard, thrusting himself much deeper inside. 

“Fuck, shua….it's too much.” You nearly cried as he began to snap his hips into you, your orgasm blending into another one. 

“Come on baby.” He softly nibbled on your ear in complete contrast to how roughly he was pounding into you. “Don't I deserve a gift too?”  

You didn't complain after that, only graphic moans and whines escaping your lips. This was the best birthday he could have asked for - here he was finally fucking you after so many days and there, your sister, his final victim was taking her last breath. 

Joshua thought it was rather beautiful, the way it all came to an end. He knew your sister couldn't go more than a few hours without her usual drugs so he had made sure she had access to a little secret stash that she could sniff on when no one was looking. Little did she know, Joshua had poisoned it. 

Not only that, he had also managed to slip a thin folded paper into her pants just before she was thrown in the cell. It read that she was guilty for all ten crimes and was incredibly repentful - she didn't think she deserved to live. That was his final victim of the year - another death on the 30th, another death on their birthday. 

There was no particular reason why Joshua picked this date or why it had to be their birthday - he simply wanted to create a pattern, see if anyone could crack it, if anyone was smarter than him. So far, it seemed like nobody was even close. Perhaps, only after he died and as per requested in his will, if his diary was published as a book, would people know exactly what he was capable of. For now, he alone revelled in and celebrated his intelligence. Maybe you if you were strong enough for it. 

Perhaps not, Joshua wondered as he glanced at you, sound slowly reducing as you inched closer to passing out. Gripping your hips tighter he began fucking you harder and faster, pushing himself to finish before you blacked out. Recognising his pace becoming erratic as he neared his climax, you looked over your shoulder. 

“I haven't been taking the pill for a while Shua…” 

He groaned, not stopping his thrusts. “You know how much I love cumming inside you.” 

“Shua please…” You could barely manage to beg him to stop. Your body had been pushed beyond its limit. 

Owing to your silence, he groaned, jerking his hips, once, then again and then he came, white coating your walls as he emptied himself into you. You fell forward, spent and exhausted as Joshua pulled out, watching his cum drip out of you. 

Fuck. You were perfect. 

This was perfect. 

Everything was perfect. 

It was probably the wee hours of the morning when you woke up, your throat hurting and dry. You rolled your head to the side finding Joshua fast asleep beside you on the bed. He had dragged you here for round two, fucking you into oblivion before moving to round three where he slowly made love, dumping load after load in you. Thankfully, he cleaned you up before sleeping - you had passed out the moment the two of you were done. 

You slipped out of the bed slowly so as to not disturb him, desperate for a glass of water. Stretching, you grabbed the spare blanket and wrapped it around your naked body. Struggling to walk thanks to how sore you were all over you made your way to the kitchen, flipping the switches and bit back a scream. 

Stranding by the counter was an old woman, leaning against it, looking at you like she was waiting for you. Instinctively you grabbed a knife from the nearby drawer, pointing it at her threateningly. 

“W-who are you? And what-” 

“You know who I am.” She said, straightening and stepping closer to the window. Your eyes widened. That was impossible - it was as though the moonlight was passing through her. You ran your eyes over her features. She had white hair, her back was bent weirdly, there was a burn mark on her hand….. Ye Soon. 

“Oh Y/n,” She took a step forward. “Don't you want to know who the actual killer is?” 

You continued to stare, jaw slightly hung, still unable to fathom what was happening. The spirits were a story the two of you had spun, how could it be…

“Who are you talking to?”

You turned around sharply at the sound of Joshua’s voice. He walked out, dressed in his pants, rubbing his eyes as he looked at you confused. 

He couldn't see Ye Soon. 

“You wanted to know the killer didn't you?” The old woman's voice was right by your ear. “Look, there he is.” 

Your eyes widened, grip on the knife tightening as you stared at the man before you wordlessly. Joshua frowned, his eyes flickering between the knife and you as his eyes narrowed. 

Outside, the loud sirens of the ambulance heading towards the precinct resounded in the otherwise quiet town. It seems the story of the Calendar Killer had finally come to an end.

A/n - If you have made it all the way here, thank you for reading, I know it was intense and heavy but I hope you enjoyed it! Do let me know your thoughts in the comments or tags, particularly about the twist - I need to know if my crazy mind managed to pull this off or not hehe You can also read Jeonghan's and Seungcheol's :)

[incognit0slut]

DARK DESIRES

Last part of kinktober | main masterlist

ghostface!spencer x fem!reader; dubcon, knife play, sensory deprivation, dacryphilia, forced orgasm, rough sex

A twisted encounter with the masked killer roaming in your neighborhood had you questioning your morals because as it turned out, you were more attracted to him than you let on.

words: 6335

a/n: this fic might not be everyone's cup of tea. IF THIS TRIGGERS YOU, DO NOT ENGAGE. Anyway, thank you for the amount of love everyone has sent me through this short series. I appreciate it❤️

THE FIRST ENCOUNTER you had with the masked killer was at home. You were in your living room, absentmindedly flipping through the channels on the television until the news captured your attention. You watched with a mix of fascination and horror as the unfolding report detailed a series of gruesome murders, each committed by a mysterious figure concealed behind a chilling mask.

"The armed suspect remains at large as law enforcement intensifies efforts for apprehension," the newscaster's voice declared. "Victims have sustained multiple stab wounds, with survivors recounting a chilling detail of a mysterious call from an unknown number before each attack. Citizens are urgently requested to report any suspicious phone activity."

As you sat there engrossed, a sense of dread began to coil around you. The details of the gruesome murders had been haunting enough, but a chilling realization gripped you as the camera panned across the crime scenes. Your eyes widened as the news footage revealed a recognizable building. That was the local library a few blocks away from your house.

A shiver went down your spine, and a cold unease settled in the pit of your stomach, as you realized that one of the victims was the young teenage boy who volunteered at the town's library every weekend. It then dawned on you with chilling clarity—a serial killer was lurking in your neighborhood.

The second time you saw the masked killer, his face was plastered around town. Ghostface. That was what they called him. The once-anonymous menace had transformed into a chilling icon that echoed through hushed conversations and whispered warnings. His mask, a pale and expressionless countenance with hollow eyes, exuded an unsettling aura of anonymity. It was what you saw in every corner; materializing on posters, shop windows, and even billboards.

Beware of Ghostface!

It was ironic. For someone who was murdering people with his bare hands, your community was giving him too much attention. It wasn't until you saw a group of well-dressed people, who clearly weren't from around here, that you realized how serious this situation was.

When the FBI arrived, you knew it was no longer a local matter, but a national concern. There was reassurance in their presence, in the sense that the full force of specialized agents was now focused on apprehending the killer that haunted the streets. But despite their formidable presence, against all expectations, the masked killer continued to pursue more victims.

You couldn't help but wonder every time someone you knew was reported dead—were these people even doing their job right? What were they doing here when they couldn't arrest one person when they came in a full pack?

You never really noticed these agents, although you did sometimes see them lurking around shops and houses to ask questions. You didn't really give them much attention, until that one night when you walked back from work and saw a figure leaning casually against a sleek, black SUV adorned with government markings.

He was standing alone, arms crossed and eyes focused on you as you slowly stepped closer because the only way to your house was to pass this street. He was clad in the quintessential FBI vest over his dress shirt and tie, his sleeves rolled up along his forearms. His height commanded attention, casting a subtle shadow that seemed to stretch into the surrounding darkness.

A cascade of curly, unruly locks framed his face, falling in a chaotic dance that obscured much of his features. But even in the dark, you could tell he was handsome, and the messiness of his hair added a touch of his disheveled charm. Yet, it was his eyes that held you captive. Stark and penetrating. Instead of finding comfort in the presence of an authority, you felt an unsettling chill crawl down your spine as his stare lingered on you.

"You shouldn't walk alone at night with a killer on the loose," he stated abruptly, his voice cutting through the silence.

Caught off guard, you stammered in response, "I, uh, my house is right around the corner."

His eyes, still fixed on you, held an inscrutable intensity. You shuddered. Without thinking much, and fueled by a sudden surge of unease, you briskly left his side.

People say the third time's a charm, that the idea after two unsuccessful attempts or failures, the third attempt is more likely to be successful or fortunate. However, in your case, you didn't know what to make of it when you encountered the masked killer for the third time.

It started with a call.

At first, you didn't bother the unknown number flashing on your phone, especially when a killer was roaming around town with its known trademark of calling his victims before his attack. So you ignored it and continued to prepare your dinner. But then it rang again. Once. Twice. Three times. The fourth time it constantly rang, you realized, that whoever was on the other line wasn't going to stop until you answered.

"Hello?" you nervously greeted.

"Hello there. Took you long enough," the voice on the other line replied. It was soft, distinctly masculine, quite disoriented, yet it carried a mysterious familiarity that you couldn't put your finger on.

"Who is this?"

"A person."

You scoffed. "Charming. Goodbye."

"Wait—no! Don't hang up!"

There was a sudden nagging sense that you had heard this voice somewhere before. "No, really, who is this?"

"A secret admirer." 

You raised an eyebrow. "I doubt it," you said, leaning over the kitchen counter. "No one has ever had a crush on me."

"Well, I do."

"Tell me who you are then.”

"But it won't be a secret anymore."

You paused for a moment. "You really know me?" 

"Of course, I do."

"Do I know you then?"

"Maybe," he answered, a playful ambiguity threading his response. "So, you got a boyfriend?"

What an odd question.

"Why?" You laughed. "You wanna ask me out on a date?" 

"Maybe," he responded again. "So do you have a boyfriend?"

"No."

"That's a pity," he sighed, his tone taking on a flirtatious note. "You look too good in that shirt without a man appreciating it."

Your heart quickened at his words. Was he... you looked around your house, your eyes traveling across the many windows adorned in your personal space.

"W- What did you say?" 

"You look too good in that white shirt," he repeated. "Doesn't leave much to the imagination." 

You looked down at yourself. The shirt he mentioned was actually a tanktop you decided to wear for bed, but you weren't wearing anything else under it, so true to his words, this piece of clothing didn't leave much to the imagination. The hemline hung low on your chest, leaving a perfect view of your cleavage. The cold temperature of the room managed to make your body react, which was why your nipples were pressing hard against the material.

"Hello? Are you still here?" Sensing your silence, the voice on the other line held a sudden edge of urgency. "Wait—don't you hang up on me—"

You quickly ended the call. Feeling a sudden need for privacy, you hastily closed the curtains, shutting out the view from the windows as you clutched your phone in your hand. Your heart raced, and a wave of dread engulfed you. The unsettling possibility that someone might be targeting you, and not just anyone, but the masked killer, cast a chilling shadow over your thoughts.

The phone rang again. You hesitated, a part of you urging against answering, but somehow, almost involuntarily, you found yourself pressing the phone against your ear. The adrenaline of fear seemed to override your rational instincts, even against your better judgment. 

"I told you not to hang up on me," the man greeted you, but his voice lacked the soft, friendly tone it had before. Instead, it had morphed into something more sinister.

"Wh-who is this?" you asked. "What do you want?"

"To volunteer. Let me appreciate how good you look tonight."

You were desperate now. Your feet guided you to the front door, and you locked it securely before quickly running up the stairs. Panic seized you as you checked and secured all the windows, the sense of vulnerability amplifying with each lock turned.

A sudden sound of laughter filled your ear. 

"What you're doing is useless," he taunted. Then, with a sinister tone that cut through the air, his next words had you stopping in your tracks.

"I'm already inside."

The air in the house thickened with dread as his words hung ominously. Panic set in, and the once-familiar surroundings now felt like a trap closing in around you. Every creak of the house, every flicker of shadow, became a sign of impending danger.

He was the one to end the call, and you looked down at your front door from the top of your stairs. You calculated how long it would take you to escape your own house as you slowly descended down. But then, the closet door by the front, the small room where you kept your coats and unused items, suddenly opened.

The creak of the door echoed through the silence, and your eyes fixated on the widening gap. Your escape route seemed to diminish and fear paralyzed you. The once-familiar confines of your home now held an intruder, and as you stared at the ominous opening, a figure emerged from the shadows.

Your eyes widened, because right in the flesh was none other than Ghostface, stepping out of your closet with a knife in his hand. The chilling reality gripped you, and time seemed to slow as the masked intruder stood before your eyes. The pale, ghostly visage stared back at you.

You moved on instinct. You turned on your heels and ran back up the stairs, even when you were aware there was no escape unless you jumped out of your window. But it was a better plan than running right into the arms of a killer, so you picked up your pace, sprinting as fast as you could down the hallway.

But he was fast, unnaturally so, and suddenly you felt a vice-like grip around your waist. His hand urged you with brutal force before slamming your back against the wall. The impact reverberated through your body, and a gasp caught in your throat as the cold surface of the wall pressed against you.

His presence loomed, the masked figure inches from your face. The hollow eyes of Ghostface bore into yours through the chilling mask, and the glint of the knife in his hand reflected the cruel intent that hung in the air.

Panic engulfed you as his other gloved hand circled around your throat. "Pl-Please.." you chocked, struggling against the force he pressed on your neck. "...don't—don’t kill me."

The air felt constricted, and the desperate plea escaped your lips in a struggled gasp. The gloved hand tightened its grip, the leather cool against your skin, as Ghostface's masked visage remained impassive. 

"Kill you?" he asked, an eerie edge in his voice. "That's the last thing I want to do right now."

You desperately placed a hand on his wrist as you let your phone hit the ground.

"Don't move," he warned. But you kept on thrashing around, the primal instinct for survival overriding reason, and he tightened his grip on you. "If you keep struggling, I might have to gut you out like a damn fish."

That made you stop. Satisfied you were listening, he finally let go of your throat. The release brought a gasp of air, and you stumbled back, leaning against the wall. 

"I'm not here to kill you," Ghostface declared, the chilling mask betraying no emotion. "But I do have something else in mind." 

He responded by caressing your face and pinning you against the wall. The cold, gloved hand traced a chilling path across your skin, and you felt the sharp contrast between the mask and the vulnerability of your flesh. He tilted his head as he saw the fear in your eyes, tears welling at the corners.

"Aw, come on, don't look so scared," he murmured, a perverse tenderness in his voice that clashed with the situation. His sharp blade went to your throat, the cold steel sending a shiver down your spine. He forced you to stare into the hollowness of the mask.

"Let me have my fun."

You felt the blade on your skin as he dragged the weapon along your body. He smiled when he noticed you tensing, trying to avoid the sharpness of the blade from grazing your skin. Through tear-filled eyes, you looked up, struggling to catch your breath. Fear still consumed you, a chilling grip on your senses, but alongside it, an unexpected emotion stirred. Curiosity.

As you gazed at the masked killer looming over you, a strange sense of intrigue took place. It was a baffling response, the surreal proximity to the infamous Ghostface left you grappling with a mix of terror and fascination. The sheer scale of his presence seemed to stretch into the shadows, and you couldn't help but wonder—was he actually this tall?

A sudden movement caught your attention as he took a step. He moved underneath the black cloak he wore, and you felt a shiver run down your spine as he slipped a leg between yours. The confined space of the hallway seemed to shrink further as his presence pressed in on you.

And then there was silence. The air hung heavy with anticipation, and you sensed a deliberate slowness in his actions. It was as if he offered you a chance to resist, to push him away. But you didn't move. Instead, you held your breath, the rhythmic pulse of your heart echoing in the quiet.

"You've stopped struggling," he hummed to himself, trailing the knife over your shoulder. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

There wasn't time for you to reply as he hooked the blade under your top and ran it along the fabric, watching it snap under the sharp surface. The cool air hit your skin as you were suddenly exposed to him. Without warning, his other hand moved over your breasts, squeezing them roughly, earning a gasp from you. Your heart pounded with something akin to fear, or perhaps, it oddly felt like… excitement?

"Of course, you are," he muttered, rolling your nipple between his fingers. You could feel the cool touch of his gloved hand over your skin as he brushed his thumb over your sensitive bud. "Knew you were a fucking slut."

What was happening? It was wrong, morally twisted, yet you found a strange sense of anticipation as he continued to touch you. Your body was shaking, not just from fear, but from something else. While your rational side recoiled at what was happening, your body seemed to betray a darker truth.

You hated yourself. You loathed how easily you were giving in. You kept on reciting how wrong this was in your head, but when you felt the blade cut through the fabric of your shorts with ease, you didn't mind as much. Then your breath hitched when he quickly ripped your panties with his knife, and somehow you were now naked with his leg placed between your thighs.

"Would you look at that?" He taunted, his leathered hand moving over your curves. "You're dripping."

You let out a small, shaky sigh as he dragged his fingers up your thigh, stopping just before his fingers brushed over your heat. The touch was so faint it shouldn't have even had that much of an effect on you, but it did. It fucking did.

This was so unlike you, you weren't the kind of person to let someone you barely knew touch you. You even disliked the idea of a one-night stand. Yet here you were, legs wide open as you let a murderer touch you, and the messed up thing was, you wanted more.

He began carefully moving his middle and forefinger in a gentle circular motion, rubbing your clit teasingly as if to test your reaction. You bit your bottom lip, stopping yourself from moaning aloud, your eyes fluttering closed as he played with your clit skillfully.

He was far too good at this, you found yourself thinking. Your body jerked as he increased his pace and you knew he had a goal in mind—to make you fall apart. The fast pace of his fingers had your brows furrowing as you chewed your bottom lip, desperate to keep quiet despite the way your hips bucked and rolled against his hand. He let out a chilling laughter.

"Stop acting like you don't want this," he said, increasing his pressure on your clit. Your eyes screwed shut, and you focused on that touch alone, the leather sliding over your wet skin. "Let me hear your pathetic voice."

You shook your head furiously.

"No?" He mocked. "You wanna bet how fast I can make you scream?"

His fingers moved from your clit, dragging down your slit and collecting your juices, briefly stroking you, earning a muffled cry out of you. Your chest began to heave, your hips unconsciously bucking against his hand as he worked over you casually. He laughed again.

"I'm going to make you scream so loud your neighbors will know how much of a slut you are."

And then he pressed the edge of the blade on your throat at the same time he plunged two fingers inside you. Your eyes rolled back as your mouth fell open and a loud squeal left your lips, the sound distorted by the vibrations surging through your body. He hummed in satisfaction at how fast it was to earn that moan from your lips, and surprisingly, he loved the sound you made.

It didn't take long for him to force more sounds out of your pretty mouth. You felt the coolness of the wall behind your back, the pads of your fingers brushing over the concrete in a pathetic attempt to get a hold of something, anything that could keep you steady while his fingers kept pumping in and out of your throbbing cunt with a wet, squelching sound.

Adrenaline surged through your veins, saturating every cell of your trembling body. The electrifying rush heightened your senses, amplifying the surreal nature of the pleasure. You wriggled your hips under the pressure of his body that was keeping you pinned against the wall, feeling so fucking embarrassed by the wetness dripping out of you.

"Fucking filthy, letting a murderer touch you." He then dragged his fingers out of you and started to rub your clit in tight, rapid circles. You practically cried out and quickly bit your lower lip to subside another embarrassing moan. "You know how many people I've killed with this hand? The same hand touching your sweet little pussy?"

Your thighs tightened around his hand, trying desperately to push him away. He responded by sinking three of his fingers inside you and groaned at the way you were clenching around him. "Look at you taking my fingers so well."

The leather slightly burned your skin, and somehow, it only heightened your pleasure. The heel of his palm pressed against your clit hard as he continued to curl his fingers. You gasped as your eyes fluttered open, looking up at him while his fingers pushed deeper into you, touching a spot you had never been aware of. The sensation brought an unusual feeling to your senses. You looked at him in confusion, your eyes widening.

"Pl- Please, stop," you begged out of fear of the unknown. The tickling in your abdomen was becoming almost unbearable, and you clasped your thighs together and involuntarily bent your knees a little in an attempt to make his fingers slip out of your wet cunt.

With a feral growl, he suddenly threw the knife on the floor before wrapping his hand around your throat, pinning your head against the wall.

"Take it," he hissed and tightened his grip, making you jolt forward. You helplessly part your legs and whimpered as his palm brushed over your clit with every thrust, his hard cock rubbing against your thigh as he held you in place. "Fucking take it."

The sensation was overwhelming to the point tears began to trickle down your face, and you tried to desperately blink them away as they hindered your vision.

"Oh, you're crying now?" He cooed, still rocking his fingers violently inside you. "Pathetic."

Before you knew it, your hips were bucking, distraught cries escaping you. Your body shuddered as if it were under his control, forcing out your orgasm like it was effortless as his fingers curled inside you, continuing to stimulate you even after you begged him to stop.

It wasn't long before he was bringing you back up again. His pace turned into a more intense speed that, to your surprise, the familiar contracting of your pulsing walls was followed by the splurge of weird liquid coming out of you. Your mouth fell open as you writhed against him, your sensitive cunt almost numb to the sensation as he pressed you for more.

You were so numb you could no longer feel his fingers buried deep inside your convulsing walls, squeezing around his digits as you shook in the tremors of your release. When you looked at him in shock, cheeks burning crimson and chest rising and falling heavily, a pretentious laugh left him. With a vulgar squelching sound, he slipped his fingers out of your pussy.

"Squirting like a pathetic slut,” he spat, his other hand still wrapped around your neck. "Told you I'd make you scream."

Your body turned pliant as you gave in and sank against the wall. You watched him lean down through your half-lidded eyes as you tried to ground yourself, his movements deliberate and swift, grabbing your wrecked shirt from the floor. You watched in confusion as he pressed the flimsy material together before firmly shoving it over your eyes.

Panic surged through you as the sudden darkness enveloped our vision. Although you couldn't see him, you heard him very well. His muffled breathing behind the mask, the soft rustle of fabric as he adjusted the material at the back of your head. Your other senses were heightened when you were robbed of your vision that you could even smell him.

The sharp scent of sweat and a faint hint of earthiness clung to him, as though remnants of the ground followed his presence. Yet, amidst the rawness, there was a surprising note of sweetness, as if a subtle cologne lingered beneath the surface.

God, he was so close. His chest was now pressed against yours, and then suddenly, almost forcefully, you felt warm hands grip your jaw. Your mouth fell open.

He took off his gloves.

Goosebumps rose on your skin when a sudden breeze of air brushed across your face and you gasped. You could barely think clearly, and you could barely even brace yourself when harsh lips captured your mouth desperately. You couldn't believe what was happening, because holy fuck—you were kissing Ghostface.

There was nothing remotely gentle about the way he kissed you. A deep shuddering groan rippled through him as he continued to assault your lips. You were too stunned at the way he pushed his tongue inside your mouth, tasting you in a way that had your body trembling at the sheer force of intensity traveling through your veins.

And when you finally felt his bare fingers grazing along your drenched core, going up and down your swollen folds, he captured the moan falling through your lips with a groan.

"So fucking filthy," he whispered against your lips as he continued to tease you. His voice, once muffled, was now very clear. The tones were distinct, carrying an inexplicable familiarity that tugged at the edges of your memory. But before you could even try to recall where you had heard it before, he surprised you by increasing the speed of his fingers.

"You want more of this, don't you?"

You shook your head, but your body was saying otherwise. Your hand gripped his arm as he started to play with your clit again, and your knees buckled pathetically. His other hand fell on your waist to steady you while he pressed a kiss on the hollow point of your throat, traveling further up the skin till his teeth nibbled on your ear lobe.

He then grabbed onto one of your legs and hiked it around his waist as he pushed his hips into you. You could feel the outline of his hard cock behind the cloak he was wearing and you let out a whimper when he started rolling his hips.

"Is this what you want?" He rasped out at the shell of your ear. You felt strong hands grip your wrists before he pushed them above your head, pining you against the wall. "You want me to fill you up with my cock?"

You shook your head again, attempting to anchor yourself. The struggle was evident in the tension of your muscles, each fiber resisting the pull toward surrender. You should push him. You should cry for help. Yet here you were questioning your sanity as you slowly, almost desperately, grind your hips along with his, yearning for more friction.

"Dirty, dirty slut," he muttered against your lips before kissing you once again, swallowing your whimpers as his hips snapped into you. "I bet you feel so tight around me."

Desire roared fire in your veins, and you whined. He leaned over and captured one of your nipples in his wet, warm mouth, and you moaned again before he let out a satisfied hum. You could practically feel the smirk curling on his lips as he taunted, "You react so well. I might have to keep you."

Goosebumps rose along your skin. Then in a swift and forceful motion, he yanked you, abruptly pushing you to the ground. The impact was sudden and jarring, leaving you landing on your knees.

As you tried to make sense of what was happening, a hand pushed against your back, and you toppled forward, landing on the ground face-first, finding yourself on your hands and knees. A sharp smack hit your bare ass from behind and you jolted in surprise.

"Spread them wide for me," He murmured, gaze skipping over your nakedness. He marveled at the sight before him, the way you shamelessly arched your back at his command. Yet when he noticed you hesitating, he dropped his voice in a lower, sinister tone.

"Don't make me use my knife."

You quickly did as you were told, your hands traveling behind you, spreading your sticky thighs in a languorous stretch, and you shuddered under the weight of his eyes. You whined at the feeling of the cold air hitting your exposed skin and a trickle of your arousal ran down your thigh, much to your utter embarrassment. "Look how pretty you are."

Heat blossomed in your chest. Then the sound of a belt being undone had you whimpering, and you moved instinctively, arching your back even further. One of his hands landed on your ass again with a sharp smack before he gripped a firm handful of it. You could hear more rustling and a slight soft thud behind you. The lack of vision made you overly sensitive and you found yourself waiting with bated breath for his every move.

With a sharp tug, he pulled you back by your hips before one of his hands landed on the back of your neck. You felt him push down hard and you obliged, lowering your face and upper body to the floor as his other hand remained holding your hips up in the air. And then you felt him—pulsing warm right at your entrance.

A pitiful groan escaped your lips as the tip of his cock swiped back and forth along your folds. He moaned out a deep, pleasure-filled noise that reverberated around the small space at the feel of your arousal coating him. And then suddenly, without warning, he abruptly plunged inside of you. He thrust straight into that spot deep inside that stung so good a sharp cry slipped out of you. It was painful, his sheer force of girth stretching you apart, though that cry quickly became a low moan of pleasure.

The man behind you showed no mercy, thrusting his hips into you with force and purpose, so hard you felt your body inching across the hardwood floor with each stroke. Your mouth fell open when one of his hands released your neck before you felt him grabbing a fistful of your hair, just at the base of your skull, and sharply pulling. A high-pitched, breathy noise of pleasure tore out of you and he repeated the gesture, the tug on your hair even rougher.

He held himself there as he used the grip on your hair to haul you backward to him. Your back was arched, his cock still buried deep inside of you as you fell back into his chest. For a few moments, it was almost uncomfortable, but then, surprisingly, you felt even more aroused than you already were.

You pushed your ass even higher, arching your body in search of more of that delicious sensation. It felt like electricity shocked your entire body, triggering intense waves of pleasure that repeatedly spread wildly from your core as you focused on the pleasure building between your legs, the burning sensation filling you to the brim.

It was maddening. Frustrating, even. Because you didn't even care anymore, you didn't even care if you exposed for him, you didn't even care if your knees ached from the hard friction of the floor because any shreds of sanity and pride had long since been destroyed. You wanted more. You needed more. 

It was so twisted. You longed to be broken by him. You longed to be ruined by him.

You had never imagined being in this position, kneeling on the floor with a murderer thrusting himself into you, yet here you were, whimpering at the sensation of doing the forbidden. Your mind turned delirious he released the hold on your hair, his hand snaking around your front to grip your throat.

You continued to meet his savage thrusts with your hips, slamming into you as your wail turned into a ragged scream. The sensation, though pleasurable, became too intense to handle. You attempted to move away from him, stealing his breath as your inner walls clenched around his cock. His firm hand gripped your hips tighter, preventing you from pulling away as he held you in position, thrusting his cock into your throbbing pussy.

A helpless sound trickled from your throat as your body jerked, and he mercilessly fucked you through it. Everything was so intense your mind was struggling to comprehend what was happening as he pounded into you roughly. You tried to breathe through the incredible pleasure surging through your body but you were too overwhelmed. "T-Too much."

"T-Too much," he mocked. A sinister laugh sliced through the darkness, sending shivers down your spine. "Fucking. Take. It."

His words were punctuated with every snap of his hips. The insistent thrust made you thrash your head as your body convulsed, dragging it out and heightening it to a point where you could only wail. Your breath came in harsh pants; his breathing was as rough as he urged you on, and you gave yourself over to the wildfire consuming your body. You whimpered, head rolling back onto his shoulder.

"That's it, taking me so perfectly," his voice, now a sinister whisper, slithered into your ears. "Knew you were special the moment I saw you."

A gasp escaped you, the weight of his words settling with an unsettling realization. Amidst the darkness, you felt the contours of his laughter.

"Don't act so surprised. I'm your secret admirer, remember?" You felt his hand leave your hips before it trailed toward your front. You knew what he was about to do and you clenched him involuntarily, already anticipating what was to come. 

"Fuck," He hissed. "You feel so tight around me. I really do have to keep you now."

The coil inside you was dangerously close to snapping and he growled as your cunt clenched around his cock.

"Oh, you liked that. You like the idea of me using you? Fuck you whenever I want?" He questioned, his fingers moving to your clit as he pressed messy circles against the sensitive nub, twisting it beneath his calloused pad. You bit down on your lower lip, feeling the coil in your abdomen tightening at his sharp movements, your hands moving to his wrist as you tried to ground yourself.

You gasped when you felt him tightening the grip on your throat, the skin tingling as he repeated the motion. "Filthy little thing, aren't you?"

"I-I—" You spluttered, feeling your legs going numb. You squealed when you felt him pick up his pace on your clit, rubbing messy circles against it as your back slumped against him, mouth parting, your tongue slipping out between your lips.

It was too much. You felt like you were about to explode. Your mind went blank. Your body felt numb. There was nothing else you could do but to give into the force of pleasure consuming you as he fucked you roughly, his hips hitting you in harsh motions.

"You gonna cum now?" He grunted, pressing his mouth at the shell of your ear. You helplessly nodded, not able to make out any coherent words anymore. He groaned between thrusts, keeping a firm grip on your ass to keep you from squirming. "Go on then, cum on my cock like the filthy whore that you are."

As if on command, your body spasmed involuntarily. It started with a prickling of your skin creeping up your body, over your breasts and face, inner walls tightening around his cock, and you came hard. You squirmed uncontrollably as all that pent-up pleasure welled up in your core. Your heart was pounding erratically against your heaving chest you could even hear the pounding in your ears.

Your mind was in a drunken haze as the pleasure continued to flow through your veins, his fingertips languidly brushed against your clit. But despite the desperate spasms of your pussy, he continued to penetrate your body. Every thrust hit more intensely than the last, wetness flooded from you as reality slipped away, and all you could do was burn, vocally urging him on as he moaned darkly behind you.

You were very far from sanity from everything consuming your body. You felt him everywhere. His grinding cock, the press of his fingers as they moved to toy with your clit, and his blunt nails cut around your throat. Your cunt continued to possessively grip his cock as you wailed breathlessly.

Heat traveled through you, body quivering and going boneless, the warm ripples of release dulling the sharp edges of your mind as he drove into you and finally chased his own high. The filthy feel of him emptying inside you, your shimmering release, and his hands decorating your skin with fingerprint bruises, was all you could focus on.

Until the distinct sound of sirens echoed in the background.

Your mind went hazy as you tried to anchor yourself and you heard him chuckle in amusement. "I guess you really woke your neighbors up," he said, letting go of his grip around your throat. You let out a breathless sigh when you felt him slipping out of you, surprisingly feeling empty.

He groaned as his eyes traveled down, watching the way his release dripped down the length of your thighs. “It’s a pity I have to cut this short.” Then you felt his lips near your ear. “Until next time."

"W- What?" Your head snapped up. "You'll come back?"

"I'll be here when you least expect it." Then the unexpected happened. He surprised you with a gentle kiss on your shoulder, a stark contrast from everything that had taken place. "Keep your doors unlocked for me."

A sudden emptiness enveloped you as he withdrew from your personal space. Your mind was struggling to make sense of what happened. And now the realization that he wasn't behind you anymore prompted your hands to instinctively reach for the makeshift blindfold, swiftly slipping it off your face.

Blinking in the sudden light, your eyes adjusted to the surroundings. Your eyes caught his figure standing tall at the top of your staircase, back turned, a fleeting glimpse of brown curls disappearing beneath the mask he hastily put back on. 

He abruptly turned to you. A shuddered gasp escaped your lips as he looked at you for another fleeting second, as if he was giving you a silent promise as the faint sound of sirens continued from the distance. You stared back at him, heart thrumming in your chest.

And then he was gone.

[yourlocalravendork]

Accidental date

A/N: I am a sucker for early seasons Spencer. Give me our sweet, stuttering baby Spence any day of the week. That being said, enjoy some fluff of our favourite boy genius. Buckle up, it's a decently long one

CW: Tooth rotting fluff, both oblivious reader and Spencer (for someone so smart he can be kinda dumb but we love him), wouldn't be a Spencer fic without some nerd facts, reader likes mythology

Words: 2.2k

Being a BAU agent meant an unpredictable life schedule. Spencer knew that. He knew that all too well. You didn't though. You were still adjusting to the fact that and that was apparent with the way you showed up after being called in late.

Spencer was in the break room, grabbing a coffee to wake him up, when you walked in. You were more dressed up than usual and an air of disappointment hung over you. Spencer was about to say something but Derek beat him to it.

"You look like someone's just rained on your parade," Morgan said, leaning on the counter next to Spencer, "What's ruffled your feathers?"

"A date that I'm probably not going to hear back from. I get in my car to leave and then Hotch calls," you sighed. Spencer couldn't really relate. He'd never had to cancel a date due to his severe lack of them, however, he could appreciate your annoyance. He opened his mouth to try and offer some comforting words but was cut off when JJ poked her head in the break room, telling them Hotch was expecting them in the briefing room.

Something similar happened two weeks later. Spencer was just working on some case files when you walk in with a huff, dumping your bag on the floor next to your desk. Dressed up nice, yet again, for someone who would never see the effort you put in for them.

"Can't serial killers respect our weekends?" you mutter with a roll of your eyes. It drew an amused huff from Spencer.

"Life would be so much easier that way, wouldn't it?" Spencer said, the hint of amusement lacing his voice. You had to admit, his amused tone did help ease your annoyance at being called in.

"Come on, boy genius, let's get our arses to the briefing room so we don't get lectured about the importance of punctuality," You sighed.

Spencer was slowly coming to the conclusion you were cursed. This was coming from a man of science and statistics, keep in mind. Your dates being called off due to a case was becoming a regular thing and Spencer couldn't help but wonder if you ever got time to yourself. The case started how it seemed to usually start. You came in, disappointment clear on your face, a slight slump in your posture. Spencer felt sorry for you. Truly, he did. So he decided you needed something to cheer you up.

After they wrapped up the case, Spencer found you gazing out of the jet window. A familiar peaceful look was painting your face. He'd noticed that you often enjoyed just looking out windows as you travelled. He often wondered what you were thinking as you looked out there.

All confidence he was building up dissipated when you turned your head and smiled softly as he took a seat opposite you. His face started to contort as he tried to figure out how to put this. His hands had a mind of their own as he fiddled with his own fingers, a familiar stim he had to keep him grounded.

"I... Well," he began, swallowing any fear that might be threatening to infiltrate his voice, "I sort of noticed, when you first got here for the case, you... You looked almost disappointed... And stressed, definitely stressed." He mentally cursed himself. Was it rude to say a woman looked stressed? He didn't know. He just thought he was digging a deeper hole for himself. Little did he know, you were hanging onto every word he was saying. At least someone was paying attention. Failed date after failed date did horrible stuff for your self esteem.

"Well... I... I... Um, I figured that you might need a distraction from all this work," Spencer wrung his hands, really underestimating how nerve wracking asking a colleague to spend time with you actually was, "So if you want, there's this planetarium and I have an extra ticket. I... I figured if there was anyone on this plane that would genuinely enjoy the planetarium, it would be you. So... I guess what I am trying to ask is if you'd want to go with me?" You smiled softly over at him. By the way he was continously wringing his hands, it was clear he was apprehensive in asking. But you figured what did you have to lose.

"Sure, that would be nice," you replied with a small nod. And with those five words, you could see a wave of relief wash over his face.

Spencer was patiently waiting for you to pack up your things once you reached the bull pen. He was more nervous than he thought. It was just two friends going to the planetarium together. Nothing more, right?

"You, um... You ready to go?" Spencer asked, his Adam's apple bobbing as he tried to swallow his nerves.

"Yeah," you replied quietly, grabbing your bag and before you could sling it over your shoulder, Spencer spoke up.

"I'll carry that, if you want," he offered. You handed your bag over, thought nothing of it. He was just being a friend.

"Thanks," you nodded as the two of you made your way to the elevator.

You got into Spencer's car and buckled up, a lot more confident than Spencer. He was worrying about you thinking anything more of this little outing. Would that be a bad thing though? He didn't know, his thoughts were too cluttered. The car ride was quiet to begin with. Spencer was a bit apprehensive on turning the radio on. He was overthinking his music taste now. What would you think if you turned on the radio and just heard classical music? Who even listened to classical music for fun? Him, that's for sure. He was pulled out of his thoughts by your voice. "Do you always drive in silence?" you asked him. He shook his head. "No, I… Um…" Words were getting stuck in his throat. Why was he so nervous? "I usually have the radio on. You can turn it on if you want." The second the words left his lips, he regretted them. You reached towards the car stereo and turned it on. The sounds of Vivaldi's Four Seasons filled the car. A soft smile appeared on your face. Spencer tried to read it. Was it a teasing smile? Were you going to take the piss out of him? "This is one of my favourite pieces," you said before humming along under your breath. That helped relieve Spencer of some of his stress. At least you didn't think he was a total nerd for listening to classical music.

Spencer had severely underestimated how many people had the same idea of coming to the planetarium. He could handle a lot of things. He saw a lot of things with his job. But one thing he could not deal with was large crowds. He shuffled closer to you, swallowing his nerves for the nth time this evening. He didn't want to say something. You were already fed up of dates being cancelled because of work, the last thing you needed was this to be cancelled because Spencer hated large crowds. As if sensing his nerves, you subtly offered him your hand. You doubted he'd take it due to the 'staggering amount of pathogens', however he did. As he did, he shot you an appreciative look. It was nothing, really. It's what friends do, right?

The two of you found your seats and settled in. It was practically packed. However, as the show began, the room fell silent. Spencer could deal with this. He was trying to focus on the talk, he really was, however, you were right there next to him. He watched you as you clung onto every word, watching as you relaxed, finding a rare moment of peace in your stressful job. It was a nice sight to see and a small smile quirked up the corner of his lips. He didn't need to look up at the projection of the stars. He much preferred to view it through the reflection in your eyes. It was almost like childlike wonder. Beautiful. That was the only word Spencer could think to describe this moment. It would be one he thought about for months, even years to come.

"Do you have a favourite star?" you asked, as you the two of you left to head to his car. Like the gentleman he was, he held the door open for you as he thought about your question. "I quite like Sirius. It's in the Canis Major constellation. According to myth, the Canis Major and Minor constellations were Orion's hunting dogs. Orion would boast about how many animals he'd killed so when he was banished, him and his hunting dogs were doomed to hunt the skies yet never to catch anything." Spencer really wasn't expecting you to still be paying attention by the end of his mini ramble. Most people lost interest. But as he looked over at you in the passenger seat, he noticed you were hanging onto every word he was spewing. It was a nice feeling, knowing someone had been paying attention. "I quite like mythology," you admit, "Especially Greek. Although Norse is quite intresting too, so is Egyptian and, of course, Roman." It was a little fascination of yours that you kept to yourself. Just something small to keep your mind off of all the gore your work had. "It's quite fascinating looking back on myths too. You can really learn a lot about the time period through myths and how certain people are portrayed," you said before going on a ramble about myths. As Spencer drove, he couldn't quite believe how much more you were being open. He knew you had nerdy tenancies, he just didn't know the extent of them. It was nice to hear you talk.

The next morning, Spencer watched as you walked over to your desk. There was a slight bounce to your step. It had worked. His little outing had cheered you up. He smiled to himself as you took a seat next to him. "Morning," you said in a rather cheerful tone as you logged onto your computer. "Good morning," he replied with a soft nod. "Good morning, love birds," Morgan chimed in, putting a hand on both of your backs. Spencer looked very confused. Love birds? Where did that nickname come from? "So, how was your date? I mean, outing," he teased, that typical, teasing smirk painting his lips. "It wasn't a date, Morgan. We just went to the planetarium," you pointed out. "Yeah, you did. Just the two of you, boy genius here drove you there and home. Sounds like a date to me," Morgan shrugged. The more he spoke, the more he was right. It did sound an awful lot like a date. "I bet he even held the doors for you like the gentleman he is." Morgan's teasing was all in good faith, as usual. However that didn't stop the blush creeping up Spencer's neck. Yeah, it really did seem like a date. Before Morgan had time to tease you anymore, Emily cut in, ready to save you two from embarrassment. "Leave them alone, Morgan," Emily said with a roll of her eyes, "What they do in their free time is up to them."

As Morgan walked away, Spencer thought about it. Yeah, the way Morgan put it definitely made it sound like a date. Spencer wasn't sure what to think about that. He began wringing his hands again. He could feel his heart hammering against his chest, his breathing was slowly picking up. He was panicking. Panicking over the fact that, yeah, he had taken you on a date and neither of you realised. "You good?" you asked, looking over at him. "Yeah…" he tried lying however his voice cracked, clearly betraying his true feelings, "Well, sort of… No." "You're overthinking," you pointed out. "Did you see last night as… As a… As a date?" he struggled to get that last part out and, frankly, he was freaking out about your reply. "I didn't really think of it that way until Morgan opened his mouth about it," You shrugged. Oh god. Was that a good thing or a bad thing? Spencer's mind started spinning, running worse case scenario after worse case scenario. Until your words quietened his mind. "If it was a date, it was the best one I'd been on in a while." Your smile was soft, just like your voice. He nodded slowly, trying to process it. You weren't mad that it could be interpreted as a date. You weren't disgusted by the idea of going on a date with him. "Well… I mean… That's… Good. Good. Cool," Spencer said, trying to form words. His 187 IQ was slashed into single digits all because of you. His brain was mush. "Maybe at some point we could go on an official date," You said slightly quieter. And if he brain wasn't mush then, it certainly was now. "That would be nice," he said with a small nod.

[alchemistc]

Buck's halfway through his third cup of startlingly bad coffee when Josh pushes the door to the breakroom open, looking mildly concerned in the half second before someone else looms over his shoulder.

He's too numb to do much more than take another sip of coffee as he watches Josh usher Tommy in.

The door clicks shut behind him. Buck wonders for a moment if Tommy's ever actually been to the new dispatch headquarters before. If he ever went to the old one, charming grin on his face while he waited for Abby to finish up so he could take her out, drive her home while her car was in the shop - but no, Tommy would have worked on it himself, maybe.

Had Josh recognized him, that first time, with half of his soot on Buck's face, and just never said anything?

The silence is tense. They're in a fishbowl, no room to lash out even if either of them wanted to because more than half the people working in this place can see them if they just tip their head to the side.

"How can I help?"

It's - his voice is strained, scared, worried. Buck doesn't have a single guess as to how he knows. Maybe Bobby. It's the only person he can think of who would have -.

Buck snorts. "I rebounded with a serial killer who just kidnapped my sister and my baby niece or nephew. I don't - I'm not sure what you want."

He glances up just in time to see the end of Tommy's grimace. Good. He's not sure how much more disastrous of a choice he could have made to try to get Tommy out of his system, but at least it hurts him to know. At least...

"Do you want me to go?"

Buck can't remember anyone asking, before. Usually they just... leave. Get up, walk out, disappear. Tommy bubbled Buck five times in three months. Buck went through seven bags of flour before he drove Eddie to the airport.

His voice shakes on his "No," and Tommy is there, all of the sudden, his hand hovering just over Buck's shoulder, like he realized halfway there it might not be welcome. "Do you still think I need to keep looking for someone better than you?"

It'd been seeing Tommy out with a guy that'd prompted him to stop fucking baking and make an effort to just...get over it But with Eddie away, and the rest of the 118 so wrapped up in their lives, there weren't a whole lot of outlets for that. And it's been easy to willfully misinterpret Tommy's breakup speech. Or - interpret it in the most hurtful way possible.

"Is this what you want to do right now?" Tommy asks, even and measured. "Will this help?"

"I want my sister back!"

Tommy takes a step back. His hands shift to his pockets, and Buck just wants -

"Why are you here?"

He tips his head up. Holds Tommy's gaze. Tommy flounders in a way Buck's never seen before.

He looks - tired. Good. White Henley under a flannel Buck had always told him brought out his eyes. The jeans Buck had stolen once or twice because they made his ass look good. His hair's grown in at the sides, and the sprinkling of greys are more obvious than the last time he'd seen it this length.

"I just... didn't want you to be alone."

Tears threaten at the corners of his eyes. He wants to laugh, but he's terrified if he starts he won't be able to hold in the fear. "When did that change?"

Tommy gnaws on his cheek. "You have so many people, Buck. You have -."

"I don't want emotional repression Tommy here, so if you're just here to keep me distracted until someone else can be here you should just... go."

Something flashes in his gaze. Anger, maybe. Terror.

"Please let me stay."

It hurts, to hear it. It hurts to hear the trepidation in his voice as he says it. Buck just wants to pull him in, tuck his face into the curve of his neck, soak in the warmth of his arms.

Buck spends too long staring at his knees. Long enough for Tommy to shift, to sigh, to nod his head decisively out of the corner of Buck's eye.

The word is stuck in his throat. Has been for months, since Tommy looked at him with teary eyes and walked away.

"I won't be able to let you go again."

He's already half turned away. Buck can only see half his expression as his eyes dip closed. He swallows. Nods, again.

Buck can't watch him push back through that door, so he stares at the toes of his boots until his vision starts to blur.

A second pair of toes swim into his eyeline. A hand shifts through his curls, snagging on knots, digging towards his scalp, and he can't quite bite back the sob. The arms that reach for him are warm, big and familiar, and Buck gives himself over to the panic and the fear that have been clawing at his chest for hours now. Tommy says something - whispers it into the air above Buck's head over and over, but Buck can't - he just -

He presses his face into Tommy's stomach, digs his fingers into the back of his shirt, sucks in horrible, gasping breaths. It's not enough. Nothing will be until he's got Maddie in his arms.

But it's more than he had an hour ago.

"Stay," he manages, and Tommy's fingers curl around Buck's neck and hold.

[mariasont]

Can I request Hotch finding gender neutral reader asleep but they legit fell asleep to a true crime serial killer podcast- or they’re like obsessed with a new serial killer show (me with Hannibal rn 😮‍���) thanks!!! Have a good day!!! <3

Late Night Podcast - A.H

a/n: omg i love love love this idea <3 thank you for sharing your idea with me i hope i did it justice! and i hope YOU have the best day 🕊️✨

masterlist

pairings: aaron hotchner x gn!reader

warnings: established relationship, hotch and reader being just so cute, bau!reader, reader and hotch are both simps

wc: 0.7k

Hotch's meeting dragged on, each minute stretched longer than the last tangled in bureaucratic red tape, and suits who really couldn't give a damn whether the BAU lived or died. It was all incredibly migraine-inducing, and he couldn't wait to go home and take you to bed.

He knew all too well that you'd be in his office, a realization that came with a twinge of regret. Not because your presence was unwelcome, but because your selfless nature meant you tended to put his needs before your own. You'd insist the after hours peace and quiet was perfect for catching up on paperwork.

He was very aware that was all a lie, you never needed to catch up on paperwork; he knew your work was always meticulously complete. He recognized your true motive; ensuring he got home at a decent time. And it usually worked everytime. The sight of you, patiently waiting, was the sweetest incentive to end his day.

"In this episode, we recount the tragic and violent story of Aileen Wuornos, a woman who turned from victim to perpetrator, ultimately becoming America's most infamous serial killer with seven murders to her name."

He stopped short in the doorframe, his eyes sweeping over the unexpected stillness of his office. There you were, draped across the couch in a tangle of limbs, one arm flung above your head while the other wrapped around your torso. The hem of your shirt had lifted just enough to reveal the softness of your belly. The rest and fall of your chest was the only movement, fast sleep.

You fell asleep to a seriel killer podcast.

He fought back a laugh, the sound caught in his throat as he laid the remainder of his work aside. You looked so peaceful, despite the macabre background that seemed to bounce off the walls. He paused your phone, knowing you'd hate to wake up and lose your place.

He smoothed your hair back, his rough hand lingering in the softness. The battle against his smile was lost; it warmed his entire face. He didn't want to wake you.

"Aaron?" Your voice was so sleepy, rough and cracked, but perfect all the same.

He wondered how long you had been asleep for.

"Hi, sleepy head."

Your eyes opened briefly, a couple of deliberate blinks as you nestled into a new position, curled on your side with hands tucked under your face. A smile, that you tried to hide, melted across your face as you quickly snapped those beautiful eyes of yours shut.

"Shh, can't hear you, sleeping," you mumbled under your breath, your nose wrinkling slightly as your struggled to keep a straight face.

A soft laugh broke through as he rubbed his face. "Well, this is the first time I've heard someone sleep-talk so clearly."

You said nothing, just the slight twitch in your lips as you pressed deeper into the couch.

"I'll take that as a yes to my carrying you out to the car then."

Before you could even muster a reaction, he scooped you up, your legs swept up in a fluid motion as you found yourself hoisted over his shoulder. Your breath hitched into a gasp, quickly transforming into laughter as you slapped your hands to his back.

"Aaron!" The word was muffled by the sound of his shirt as he started to march towards the door. "Put me down!"

"A lot of talk coming from someone who is supposedly sleeping."

His hand ground your ass, eliciting a burst of giggles from you as your hands roamed the expanse of his shoulders, legs dangling in front of him.

"Will you at least grab my phone? I need to finish that podcast on the way home."

A quick spin set your hair a flutter as he leaned down to grab your device from the table.

As he moved for the door, your hand found its way to his hair, mussing it fondly. "Thanks, handsome."

He finally let you down, hand entwining with yours. "Well finish the podcast together, but no more serial killer stories before bed."

regular taglist: @hotchhner @khxna @readergf @sarcasm-and-stiles @edencherries @aurorsworld @princess76179 @malindacath @freyy253 @broadwaytraaaaash

[fluffypinkhedgehog]

❀⊱Messy⊰❀ ⤷Shadow the Hedgehog | sfw, fluff, one-shot, request

wc: 1,560

summary: You help Shadow wash his quills.

warnings: None! All Fluff!

a/n: aaaaaaAAAAA!!! Sorry this one is late! I hope you like it anyway <3 Anyway, I'm honestly not too confident in this one. Mostly because I don't think I characterized Shadow all too well compared to my high school au but I think it's because I was putting too much thought into it instead of just letting it flow. To which, once I did start just letting myself just write, everything just started flowing a lot better! Also sorry for the abrupt ending.

You sat down in your chair, the plush comfort immediately giving you relief from the stresses of your day. You sigh in contentment, breathing in the smell of your favorite candle as the fireplace next to you roared. It was a lovely overcast, the branches from the flower trees outside lightly tapped on your window from the wind. It was the perfect weather and atmosphere to read a book. You grabbed your current work-in-progress from the side table and set it in your lap, flipping to the pages where your bookmark was nestled in-between. The sound of pages lightly flipping as the fire in the fireplace crackled and popped filled the room, making you invested and immersed in the story.

As you were reaching the pinnacle of a very suspenseful chapter in your book, you heard the front door open and a loud crack of thunder roll overhead, making you whip your head towards the front door where a dark, menacing figure stood in the doorway. Your brain short-circuited. Your adrenaline was already raised due to your book, now a strange person was entering your home! You screamed in surprise, clutching your book, before noticing that it wasn't a serial killer here to murder you. It was just your boyfriend, Shadow.

Well, that's embarrassing.

You coughed and “calmly” set your book on the side table. Shadow raised an eyebrow towards you as he walked inside, another clap of thunder sounding out before he closed the door.

“Shadow, you scared me,” you said, trying to laugh away the fear. That's when you notice it: Shadow is absolutely caked in mud! “Shads, what happened? Are you okay?”

Shadow grumbled, looking away. The only thing you could hear was “Sonic,” and you weren't sure if you even heard that correctly.

Getting up from your chair, you approached Shadow, taking his hand. Shadow narrowed his eyes at you. You roll your eyes and scoff. “I'm not gonna do anything funny, I promise. C'mon, let's get you cleaned up.”

Shadow huffed as the two of you walked to the bathroom, you deviating to the supply closet while he continued inside, closing the door behind him. You sighed. You knew that Shadow was prideful, and if it was Sonic that caused this then his ego would be really bruised... You felt a bit guilty for indulging in your desire to take care of him, he's his own hedgehog after all. That would just bruise his Ego even more. You grab one of the shampoo bottles, looking over the label, before tucking it into your arm and grabbing a washcloth, some bar soap, and some towels. As you exit the room you wonder if you should just drop off the products and let him take care of himself.

“Okay, Shadow, I got the...” You say, trailing off as you open the door. The bathroom was already a mess. Shadow was kneeling in the middle of a mud puddle, barefoot, with his head over the tub. Your face pales, a little upset. You had just cleaned the bathroom this morning! It's okay, it's fine... This is what bathrooms are for. You take a deep breath. It's not Shadow's fault. You set the soap products and towels on the counter, the shampoo bottle making a loud noise. Shadow flinched slightly at it. Oops, you accidentally slammed it down. You didn't mean to do that.

Shadow lifted his hand out towards you, about to say your name, but you turned and left the room. You had back to the supply closet, grabbing more towels, the ones that have been stained with... something before walking back into the bathroom. You found Shadow sitting on the edge of the tub, looking at you. His face showed concern and a bit of guilt. You sighed and smiled at him, you couldn't get mad at such a trivial thing, could you?

Shadow scratched the back of his neck, looking down at the ground. “I'm sorry,” he started, but you wouldn't let him finish his sentence.

“Honey, it's okay,” you say, “This is what bathrooms are for. I can just clean it again later.” Shadow nodded at your response, but you could tell that he still felt a bit guilty.

You grabbed one of the stained towels, setting the rest on the counter, and tossed it directly onto the puddle on the floor before grabbing another, folding it, and setting it on the floor before kneeling on it, turning the tub faucet on. Shadow watched as you used your hand to test the temperature until it was warm enough.

“Okay,” you say, retracting your hand from the running water and standing up. “Hop in whenever you're ready.”

You walk to the counter, grabbing the shampoo and soaps before turning around and setting the products on the edge of the tub as Shadow gets in. You can hear him audibly start to relax with the quietest hum you've ever heard from a person. It's honestly adorable.

“Let me know if you need anything, okay?” You smile before turning to leave the room. Before you could get far, though, a hand catches onto your sleeve.

“Wait,” Shadow says. You stop and look back at him. You look into his dark, red eyes and the emotions that swirl behind them, though what those emotions are you're not too sure.

Shadow's a closed book, he doesn't like sharing his emotions with other people. The fact that the two of you are dating is even a miracle in itself. Shadow looks away for a moment, seemingly gathering his thoughts, but he doesn't let go.

“I.. apologize,” Shadow manages to get out. You turn to him fully, your attention entirely on him. “I ruined your evening. Messed up the bathroom that you just cleaned, interrupted your book...”

“Shadow,” you interrupt, kneeling in front of him so you're eye-level. “I said it's okay. Bathrooms are meant to get messy, and I can always resume a book later.” You cup his face in your hands, rubbing your thumbs along his cheeks with a smile on your face. Shadow melts into your touch, closing his eyes and breathing out.

Ultimately, you must let go. Shadow grumbles as you do, but then he raises and eyebrow as you grab the shampoo bottle off of the edge of the tub, squirting some of the product onto your hand.

“I can do this myself,” Shadow says, squinting his eyes in suspicion. You cup some of the water in the tub in your other hand after setting the shampoo bottle sound and letting it drop onto Shadow's head, the mud gliding down and into the warm water, staining it brown.

“I know,” you say simply, putting the shampoo onto Shadow's head and starting to scrub. “But I realized... That you probably couldn't get to this giant ant's nest that's on the back of your head.”

“What?” Shadow tries to reach around to feel if what you say is true. It wasn't, you just wanted to tease him.

“I'm joking,” you say, “You're always so easy to tease, Shadow.” You giggle, remembering the many times you made Shadow flustered. His flushed face is always so cute to you.

Shadow scoffs, “What's with you and always...” He trails off. Shadow was starting to relax in your ministrations, sighing as the tension of the day started the melt away.

“Hm?” You hum, stopping and leaning over his shoulder. “What was that, Shadow?” You tease.

“... Nothing,” he mumbles.

“If it's just nothing, then maybe I should just let you wash all this mud off?” You slowly lift your hands away from his hand, but he quickly grabs onto them and return your hands to his quills.

“I didn't say for you to stop,” Shadow says with a bit of a pout, his face flushed. He wasn't used to saying what he wanted, and it made you giggle.

“Oh, so you want me to keep going?“ you say, but Shadow only responds with a deep grumble, not really saying anything. You knew what he wanted, but you wanted to make him say it. “Shadow, I need you to use your words.”

“... Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“I want you to keep going.”

“That's more like it,” you giggle, grabbing the shampoo bottle and lathering more onto his quills.

The room becomes quiet, the only sound in the room being your humming as you scrubbed Shadow's scalp. The water in the tub turned a dark brown and cold over the course of 30-ish minutes. You weren't really keeping track. Reaching down into the tub, you unplugged the drain, letting the muddy water drain before grabbing the detachable showerhead and turning on the water. As you aimed the showerhead towards Shadow's soapy head he suddenly turned around, grabbing your arm. You slipped in surprise at Shadow's sudden movement, making a small yelp. You blinked, your face was right in front of Shadow's as you practically on top of him. You could feel your cheeks turn red from the proximity. You could never get used to being so close to him, he's too hot.

“For someone's who's constantly teasing me,” He cups your face with his free hand, “You like to leave yourself open to counterattacks.”

“Um—” you didn't even get to start your thought before Shadow closes the distance between the two of you with a kiss.

Tag List: @affinitytales, @boogiemansbitch

[clovdgyu]

#rafayel x m!reader #smut #rafayel, my baby i love you

#breeding kink, creampie, blood play, serial killer rafayel, bondage, blindfolds, overstimulation, dubcon, mentions of blood, serial killer rafayel (cause why not?), tonguefucking, spitroasting, choking, belly bulge, lying rafayel, marking, mentions of rape, mentions of fag and faggot use of derogatory words #babysitting a house? should be easy, but it all turned into the worst case scenario when you found yourself cornered by the masked serial killer

house-sitting will be easy, they said. it will be fun, they said. but this wasn't even fun to begin with. sure, it seems like an easy job to do but it was boring as hell so you decided to invite some friends...except they were all busy. finding yourself in a 'lonely' predicament, you grabbed the remote and decided to maybe watch some tv, instead.

"this just in, a masked serial killer is on the loose, knocking doors on random people's houses before killing them. the masked killer escaped from prison and the cops are tracking the guy currently, wanting to 'catch the murderer as soon as possible," the broadcaster said as she looked sternly at the camera, indirectly telling the viewers to be careful.

you let out a stifled laugh and pointed at the tv as if judging it. "who would be so fucking stupid to open their doors to a random stranger?" you stated and switched channels, deciding to watch some documentary to keep yourself entertained. getting hungry, you decided that you needed some pizza to fill your stomach.

the documentary you just watched was boring you out to hell, it was just talking about nature and how it was wonderful. you never even dared to go out and explore so why--

*knock knock*

your eyes turned to look at the door then back at your growling, smiling to yourself. "well, that was fast," you thought to yourself as you grabbed your wallet and headed towards the door with a small skip. you hummed a small tune as you looked through your wallet for the exact amount (and a tip for being so fast) so the pizza delivery guy didn't have to bother giving you change.

another knock was heard before you shouted a 'coming'. you stopped right at the door and held onto the doorknob, hearing your own tummy rumble. without hesitation, you opened the door while you were still rummaging through your wallet and sighed, seeping air through your gritted teeth, realizing you can't give the man a tip. "ah, jeez. i'm sorry, man but it seems i'm a little short on money..."

your voice trailed off as you looked up from your wallet and saw an unfamiliar man standing in front of you. you tilted your head and scratched your neck. the man was wearing an orange jumpsuit...and what seemed like a mask? "what the hell? who are...?"

this just in, a masked serial killer is on the loose, knocking doors on random people's houses before killing them. as you looked at the man in front of you, all the blood in your body was drained out of you, hands trembling as you 'subtly' grabbed the door knob and tried to close the door...but you were already doomed. "fuck! help me! oh my god, please!" you screamed.

your voice echoed throughout the whole house as you ran towards your kitchen to grab a knife for self defense. you looked back, pointing the knife in front of you as you took in large breaths. "shit, i should've thought of that news before opening the door."

you took cautious steps as you gulped, not wanting to alert the serial killer who was inside your house. you made a run to your bedroom and locked yourself there, deciding to call 911. but when you were just about, a knife was pointed towards your neck. is this really how i am going to die? "p-please don't kill me. i'll do anything, please! i won't even tell anyone. i-i will help you escape."

"alright. you're in for a ride, bitch."

----------

"mmph!" a muffle grunt originated from your lips as the masked man drove his dick deeper into your throat, his purple tousled hair hiding his perfectly irresistible eyes as he looked down at your state, tear-filled eyes and red cheeks, saliva dripping down from your lips as you deepthroated the man.

he groaned, akin to a pleasurable one as he gripped onto your (h/c) locks, biting his lip as he thrusted into your mouth. at first, it was slow thrusts but gradually increased in speed. "you're not gonna making me fucking cum with a sloppy blowjob, bitch."

you looked up at the male and glared at him, your mouth fully stuffed with his cock. a deep chuckle was heard from the male before he thrusted his entire length inside your mouth, making your eyes twitch as you held onto his thighs.

the other male threw his head back as he buried your nose into his trimmed pubes then looked down at you, he could see how much you were struggling but he could care less. this was for his own benefit anyway, not yours. "goddamn, you took it like a champ, huh?"

he removed his cock from your mouth and stares as you coughed out, holding onto your chest as you glared at the other male. "i told you to take it easy, cunt! i'm no expert in sucking dicks."

the male tilted his head and scoffed. "really? you strike me as one though. little sissy boy who loves to get his ass filled with semen, loves to swallow a man's cum. you probably climax as they finish inside your ass, don't you?" he teased as slapped your cheek with his saliva-coated dick.

"i'm not fucking gay! get that inside your fucking brain," you stated, his brows, now, furrowed before he lifts you up and looks dead straight into your eyes, scaring you. "wh-what?"

he smirked. "you're forgetting who is actually capable of killing who here, aren't you? you're getting so damn feisty over a joke," he stated before pulling out a razor blade from his vest then traced a curved line on your cheek,making you squirm.

seeing the crimson red liquid drip out of your cheek, he let out a manical chuckle before lapping on your blood. "you're so fucking tasty, so delicious for me. you're making me so fucking hard again, bitch. strip yourself, get on the bed, and on your knees."

although hesitant, you did as he instructed and gulped. "wh-what are you planning to do? are you really gonna kill me?" you asked him, but you received no response from the other male except the sound of his footsteps drawing nearer.

you waited for what was gonna happen next, only to be surprised when you felt something wet lick on your hole. "ah! what the hell are you doing! get away from there!" you shouted, looking back at him before you suddenly felt his tongue delve deep inside you. "oh my god! stop—ah—it! you motherfucker! ugh, mmh."

despite your protests, it was clear as day that you were getting turned on just by judging the raging erection you donned as the man ate you out like a five-star course meal. "mm, fuck. so tasty," he mumbled to himself before plunging his tongue deeper into your hole.

"ng—ah~! w-wait! stop, oh my—fuck!" you cursed out, burying your head down on the pillow to muffle the sinful sounds that exited your mouth, indirectly shoving your ass onto the purple-haired male's face who just chuckled deeply while you gripped onto the sheets beneath you tightly, knuckles turning white.

you didn't know exactly why, but his tongue in your ass was making you feel so good. it was indescribable, the feeling of his wet, slimy tongue sliding in you and fucking your ass made you feel so incredible. "such a delectable ass," he muttered as took a hold of your cheeks and buried his face further into your ass to get his tongue more access.

why did it feel like his tongue was so long? it was fucking you so deep that you could feel your climax approaching. no, wait, you weren't gonna get off solely on someone eating you out, were you? you weren't even gay to begin with...but how was it that you were feeling ecstatic just by him fucking his tongue into your ass.

eyes rolled back and toes curled, you tried to hold back your moans by stifling your mouth using the pillow underneath you. the male behind you didn't mind though, he was so busy eating out your ass that he could care less about you hiding your moans.

and as if it wasn't enough, he tapped a finger on your hole making you flinch as you looked behind you with a confused state. "what the hell are you gonna do, bastard?" you asked him as he stopped eating you out and stared into your eyes then smirked before he inserted it inside you while his tongue was inside you.

a grunt left your lips as you reached back and tried to push his head away from you. "oh god. stop, you fucking bastard! get--ah--away from me, cunt! oh god, oh fuck! i-it feels so fucking weird," you cursed out as you gripped onto his purple locks and buried your face down on your pillow to stifle your moans. "y-you have to stop, b-bastard!" you whined out, akin to a moan.

the other male just enjoyed how you tried to hide your pleasured sounds as he tonguefucked and fingered your ass all at the same time. he licked a stripe onto your ass before delving his tongue back inside your ass, making you moan as you went putty in his hold. fuck, this is the best ass i've ever eaten.

you could feel that the other male was looking for a certain spot inside you as he fingered your ass. "oh my god! g-get your finger out of my ass, you prick! listen to me you fucking--AH!" you let out a pitched moan as the other male pressed onto a certain spot inside your ass that made you feel good. "what the fuck was that? that felt so weir--no, don't! shit, fuck, stop pressing onto it you goddamn killer! stop, fuckfuckfuck, i'm cumming!"

with a particular loud moan you threw your head back and spurts of cum emitted from your cock as you quivered on your bed, eyes rolled to the back of your head as you gripped onto your sheets. "hngh, ah! fuuuck~" you moaned out, still quivering as you came onto your sheets.

the other male smirked before he removed his tongue and finger out of you, making you clench on nothing as you huffed out. thinking he was already done, you tried to close your eyes but the other male had other plans as he pulled your hair and lifted your face to face him. "don't faint on me, slut. i still haven't cum yet."

your tear-filled eyes just looked at him, all strength inside you lost before you looked away at him. you tried to push him away but now that you got a closer look of his face, he just looked so ethereal. how is a handsome male like him a well-known serial killer when he could've used it for a good use?

but that didn't tether your reason as you went back to pushing him away. "aw, do you like this kind of kinky shit? d'ya like it when there's a little bit of force put into action? want me to rape your fucking ass until it takes the shape of my cock? huh, bitch?"

"n-no, get away from me, f-fag!" you shouted, the other male smiling maniacally before he neared his lips onto your ears.

he chuckled deeply, "you know what's coming next, right? i'm gonna fuck your little, tight ass and make it mine for the taking, gonna mark my territory. c'mon, say 'rafayel, i want you to pound my ass and to use your cock to make a mess out of me'. say it, say it!" he demanded, eyes growing bigger to intimidate you.

he's named rafayel, huh? you thought and you shook your head as you tried to push him away, but you stopped when a knife was suddenly pointed towards your neck. "i thought you weren't gonna k-kill me? wh-where's the deal, bitch? didn't you have fun already?"

rafayel threw his head back to laugh quite boisterously before pressing the knife deeper into your neck. "fun? i barely had my own 'fun' since you're being a pressy bitch! i've noticed how you've been annoying me quite a lot so maybe killing you--"

"wait, wait! o-okay, i'll say it," you told him, tears dripping from your eyes once again as you closed your eyes hard in contemplation, sniffing before opening your eyes again and looked into his eyes. "i want you to pound my ass and to use your cock to make a mess out of me."

"ah tut tut, you forgot my name, slut. you can't be forgetting that, that's the most important part. i want you to say that again, but this time while presenting yourself to me, spread your ass cheeks and show me that slutty hole," he told you. with your life on the line you nodded.

you watched as rafayel moved away from you to watch you, but he must've guessed that you escaping slipped from his mind since the moment he removed his hold on you, you made a run towards the door. unfortunately for you, the purple-haired male was fast enough to catch you, trapping you in his arms with your left cheek pressed against the hard wood. "where d'ya think you're going, bitch?"

"please, please. just let me go. i-i don't want this, i'll do anything but this," you pleaded, tears dripping from your eyes as you clasped your hands together. the nervousness and fear in your veins was enough to make you a sobbing mess, hiccuping word after word.

rafayel raised a brow before he chuckled deeply then smirked, scoffing. "i think you're prepped enough, doll. now hold still," he said, heeding no attention to your pleas. confused, you gulped and continued to sob quietly. the male behind you took a hold of your arms and held them tightly behind your back.

you were about to protest and ask what he was doing, but was shocked when the man suddenly tapped his erect cock on your hole. "you fucking bastard! get that thing away from my ass, that won't ever fit inside me! let me go, please," you pleaded yet again as more tears left your eyes.

"i was able to make you cum, now this should be mutual if you want to call this a good deal. and the only way to make this a good deal is for you to make me cum, and i can only cum if you let me fuck this tight ass," he stated, using his free hand to slap your ass before squeezing it.

knowing there was no way out, you calmed yourself down and looked at him in your peripheral view. "at least wear a condom, bastard," you stated through gritted teeth but only received an 'i did' before he aligned the tip of his cock onto your entrance.

he snickered, "i won't make any promises, but what i do know is that i'll probably be fucking this tight ass until the sun rises," he stated before he eased himself into you, his nose scrunching at how incredibly tight you were. "shit, doll. you're gonna snap my dick off with how tight you are. relax, it'll feel good that way."

an open-mouthed gasp exited from your mouth as you scratched your arm using your nails. "agh! i-it hurts! get it out of me, prick!" you shouted at him but only received a lick to your neck. unknowingly, you let out a breathy moan as you tried to relax your body. "r-rafayel, pull it out."

and as if a switch has been turned on inside the mentioned male's body, he thrusted his whole length inside you, managing to hit your prostate dead-on. you both moaned in unison at how incredibly good the two of you felt. although it was a painful stretch, you couldn't deny the fact that his dick made you feel good. "calling out my name like that, slut. my weakness," he said.

the hand that was holding your arms together was gone before his muscular arms was inserted under your pits, he then hooked his arms over your shoulders and pushed himself even deeper inside you, making you see stars. the loud moan that exited your lips wasn't left unnoticed by the other male. "mhm, what's this? is my cock making you feel so good, bitch?"

you looked at him through your lidded eyes, breathing deeply as your body felt like jelly because of his cock. "f-fuck you. i'm n-not feeling good 'cause of your dick, cunt!" you shouted at him, but seeing you resist your own pleasure and how you kept up that facade turned him on even more. now all he wants was to see you fucked dumb until you can't think of anything but his huge burly cock.

"haha, fuck! you're gonna be the death of me, doll," he whispered to your ear before he began to slowly fuck your hole. "i may be cruel, but at least i know how to start a good fuck. slow and steady to get them used to it, the reason those prison bitches moan my name every night."

his words fell on deaf ears as you gulped, trying to keep your mind in the right state of mind. you couldn't lie but admit that this gentle motion was making you feel good, that it got your stomach in a twist. you could feel your climax coming back again. "gh..! mmh, stop that. you're always hitting me there."

rafayel raised brow before he stopped then continued, rubbing his cock on a certain part inside of your ass. the way his heavy cock pressed onto your prostate made you moan as you writhed against his arms, your hands now on his biceps.. "quit denying it, cunt. i know i'm making you feel so good."

"no way! agh, stop! s-stop, oh fu--shit! stop, i'm gonna fucking cum, noo!" you shouted as you threw your head back. when you did, rafayel turned your head to look at him then planted his lips onto yours. that action alone made you cum yet again as you scratched the purple-haired male's biceps with a moan, muffled by his lips against yours.

the other male removed his lips from your as he used his right hand to force you to look at him. "see? i've already made you cum twice, and untouched at that. why are you still denying the fact that i really am making you feel so good?" he stated, looking straight into your eyes. "you're literally like a bitch in heat."

hearing no words from you, he continued to fuck your ass languidly with same speed. you whined, "ra...st.."

the male smirked, before nearing his ears towards your lips to hear you even more clearly. "what is it, whore? i can't hear you because of how loud i'm fucking your ass."

"rafayel, faster. please, i can't hold this anymore," you pleaded to him, now fully succumbing to the pleasure as you stared right at him through your half-lidded eyes. the taller male huffed before he pulled his cock out until it was only the tip before slamming it back inside your hole, making you scream in pleasure.

rafayel took that as an opportunity to initiate a kiss, plunging his long tongue inside your mouth, exploring your wet cavern. you closed your eyes, moans swallowed by the other male's who continued to thrust his hips at a normal pace. he pulled your face closer towards him as he fucks you hard.

he loved the sound of your ass slapping against his thighs, bouncing hard that it jiggles. the other male removed his lips from yours before he pulled his cock out of you then carried you towards your bed, making you gasp. with a grunt, you landed on the soft mattress before rafayel got on top of you, caging you in between his arms, looking down at you.

"you're so fucking delicious, i probably won't be able to stop," he stated as he grabbed his cock and lined it with your hole. he grabbed your legs by the pit and placed it on his shoulders, practically bending you in two as he leaned towards you. "we won't stop until i've had my own fill."

you nodded at him, about to say something when he suddenly plunged his whole cock inside you again. you accidentally bit your tongue as you gripped your sheets, shaking out of pleasure as you came on both your stomachs. "c-cumming~! oh my god. i'm cumming again."

a crazed chuckle exited rafayel's lips before he attacked your neck with hickeys. he began to thrust so deep inside you that even when you just came, overstimulating you. "damn, no one can really beat sluts who cum easily. such a huge turn-on," he muttered before he increased his pace and fucked you deeply.

your hands made its way towards the other male's broad back as you scratched them out of pleasure, making the male groan as he buried his face to your neck, pressing kisses and placing hickeys. "w-wait, not too fast. i just came," you stated, albeit weakly as you moved your hands towards his hair, tilting your neck to give him more access.

he paid no mind to whatever you just said and focused only on his own pleasure. "goddamit, such a tight little fucking ass. you're gonna make me bust a huge load, bitch. d'ya want that? want me to bust a load inside of you? want me to fill you up with my seeds?" he stated as he removed his face from your neck to look at you.

"wh-what? but you said you wore a condom, you bastard!" you shouted and began to push him off of you, trying to push him away as you gritted your teeth in anger. "pull out, motherfucker! don't you fucking dare cum inside me!"

he only snickered as he continued to fuck your ass, now even faster as he chased his own high. you writhed in pleasure as the strength that was once in you vanished, now gripping onto the sheets as you threw your head back in pleasure. "what? you scared i'll get you pregnant, whore? i mean, i could try. i'm gonna cum inside your ass until you get pregnant with my babies."

you whined beneath him, wanting to complain but the pleasure was overwhelming you and was clouding your sense of reason. your mind was now solely focused on his cock that was driving deeper inside you, hitting your prostate with every thrust.

rafayel then pulled back, now kneeling as he brushed his hair back, giving you a perfect view of his well-built physique. "look at that? i can see my cock inside you," he pointed out as he pressed on the obvious bulge on your stomach which made you whine as you gripped the sheets tighter. "guess making you pregnant wouldn't be so much of a problem now, huh? when i'm already buried so deep inside you."

all he received was a mewl from you before he continued to thrust his hips into you, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he chased his own high, nose scrunched up in concentration as he held your waist tightly, too tight that it might bruise the day after.

"w-wait..too fast...! slow down, ah~" you managed to utter out in between your breathy moans but he paid you no mind as he focused on getting himself off. "this is—ah—weird, this feels weird! oh—ah, fuck! rafayel, i'm about to cum! w-wait, ngh!" you stated, reaching towards the other male's v-line to try and get him to slow down but all he did was use both his hands to hold onto your wrists, oulling you closer to him with each thrust.

rafayel grunted as he threw his head back, fucking you even deeper and faster, so inhuman that you couldn't help but moan partocularly loud. "that's right, bitch. let the whole neighbohood know who's making you feel so good," he said before holding both your wrists in one hand while he used the other one to press on your neck, choking you.

gargled gasps and moans left your lips as you looked at the other male who was biting his lip, a smirk etched on his face as he pressed harder. you threw your head back, tongue rolled out of your lips as you let yourself succumb to the pleasure. "you're such—ah—a goddamn masochist, arencha? getting off on me choking you, hm?"

you shook your head but it was already obvious that your kind was muddled with the overwhelming pleasure you were receiving from how deep he plowed your ass with his thick cock. "sho..shoo goodd," you muttered out. rafayel removed his hands from your neck before he held onto your waist once again, using you like a fleshlight as he fucked himself deeper.

he grunted, "good fucking shit! i'm about to cum too, slut. i'm gonna fucking cum inside you. want me to? beg for it, beg for it, you whore!" rafayel shouted as his thrust grew even faster, your body practically bouncing as he did.

"c-cum! i want your cum inside me, rafayel! please make me pregnant with your babies!" you shouted out as you held onto his forceps. no more words were exchanged as the other male chased his own, breathy moans leaving his lips as he did. "fuck, i'm cumming!"

with a loud moan, your toes curled in pleasure, eyes rolled back as you came. but it was so unusual, as if you peed yourself. wait, you squirted? how was that possible? rafayel didn't know the explanation but the sight alone and how you clenched on his cock tightly was enough to release his load inside your hole. "cumming, i'm cumming inside your, bitch. fuckfuckfuck!"

spurts of cum was released inside you and you could feel how warm it was. you loved the feeling of his warm cum inside you, how his load was too much that some spilled out of your ass. you were just about to close your eyes when rafayel tapped your cheeks lightly. "huh?"

"don't think that it's over after just one round, slut. we're far from being done."

the next day, rafayel woke up to an empty bed. "ah hir, that was the best fuck i've eve had in a while," he muttered to himself as he got up from the bed to get his things. it was already 4 in the morning when he decided to rest. maybe it was the best decision to not have killed you, but where were you?

finally back in his jumpsuit, he exited the door and was surprised when a gun was pointed to him. "get down, hands up! we finally have you now, prisoner 0306," the cop in front of him shouted, several other cops filling in the whole area.

rafayel's blue-pink eyes roamed to look for you, finally spotting you in a corner with your head down, a phone in hand. the male scoffed as he complied to the cops, swearing to himself that he will be back. one cop grabbed a handcuff and used it to bind his hands together, rafayel chuckling deeply as he looked at you with those same maniacal eyes. "don't think this is over yet, slut. when i get back, you're fucking dead meat."

a female cop, who was beside you, noticed how you trembled in fear. she smiled at you assuringly and patted your back. "don't worry, honey. he won't ever escape anymore. you'll be fine. now we'll be on our way."

you nodded, sighing once you heard your front door click, indicating that they were finally gone. it was a whole night of torture (pleasure) but he was finally gone and you don't have to suffer anymore.

you slowly moved towards the couch and opened the tv to watch something to ease your nerves, but what showed you made you even more tense. "breaking news, the police car that had the infamous fugitive, prisoner 0305, seemed to have been hijacked. the cops inside have been injured and—"

the tv's voice was cut off when you heard the door burst open, making you tear up as you looked back slowly. and as you expected, there he was, blood painted his whole face as he looked at you with crazed eyes. he entered your abode and locked it, making you gulp as you slowly retreated. "p-please don't hurt me."

"going through all that trouble? i suppose i can commend you for that but it really hurt me, sweetie," he stated, before lunging towards you, grabbing the chloroform-filled hanky inside his pocket and placed it on your nose. you struggled against him but the chemical made you feel weak and numb as you closed your eyes, fainting. "now, you'll be with me forever, bitch."

he carried you bridal style before using the taxi he got (he killed the driver first, obviously) and placed you on the passenger seat. he entered the driver's seat and locked the doors before driving off to an isolated part in town.

[fuctacles]

Changes

@genderthings ST Women's Day: bouquet T | 805 | Pre-Steddie | Transfem Eddie, coming out, canon adjacent, phone calls | I am not sponsored by Lego but they can call me wink wink | Ao3

"Hey, you're good at making gifts, right?"

"Who is this?"

For a second, Steve blanks, wondering if he's dialed the right number. But the voice in his ear sounds right. 

"Steve? Steve Harrington?"

"Dude, I haven't heard from you in forever."

"Come on, it's been a couple of months at best," Steve protests, but as he starts doing calculations in his head, it doesn't sound as short anymore. 

"Uh-huh, try half a year."

"Shit. Sorry, Eddie. Moving had been... a lot. Guess I've lost track of time. How's life?"

"A lot of work. We have a few labels interested in working with us, but we have to make a few more demos to get signed for an album. But it's... It's good, it feels good."

Steve smiles at the receiver, happy that another one of his friends is following his dreams. 

"That's great! I'm happy for you guys. We should meet up when you're less busy."

"Yeah, totally," Eddie agrees quickly. "I have something to tell you, actually."

"Yeah? What is it?"

"I, uh... So much has changed, man. Different city, different life... It's not Hawkins anymore, you know"

"Tell me about it," Steve chuckles. 

"And I'm changing too. And I'm worried it might be too much."

Steve frowns. Change was always scary, and often meant someone would be left behind, usually him. But he soldiers on with a joke. 

"What, you got even more tattoos? Human painting style?"

"You bet your ass I did," Eddie laughs. 

"Well, Hawkins might hate it, but as long as you're happy, your friends will have your back. We didn't save the world for nothing, right?" 

"Right," he parrots. "So, what did you want to ask me?"

"Ah! Women's Day is coming up and I'm completely blank on what to give Robin."

"Dude." There's a shuffle in the other side, like Eddie changed his position to be more comfortable. "You're her weird cosmic bestie, shouldn't you know her best? How could I possibly be of service?"

"Well," Steve draws out the word, slumping against the wall. "She buys all the books she wants, she's against expensive clothes, we're stocked on candy for a year, and we have limited space. But she said she'd like something to decorate her room, make it more homey."

"Uh, a plant?" Eddie suggests. 

"Eddie. Would I be calling you if the answer was as simple as a plant."

"I'm guessing Buckley is a serial plant killer then."

"She murdered my basil plant and I haven't forgiven her yet."

Eddie snorts before making a loud hum.

"Alright then, well. A painting, a poster?"

"She already has so many posters," Steve groans. "I'm not sure there's even space left on the wall, not after she stole that huge Madonna one."

"I see the big city is doing her good, huh?"

"I need ideas."

"I don't know, man. You're close enough, get her a vibrator or something."

"Already got her one for Christmas."

It's Eddie's turn to groan.

"Just give her fake flowers, Jesu— wait. Does she like puzzles?"

"Uh, yeah? But we have nowhere to display them, so—"

"Did you know Lego has flower sets?"

"It was a great idea, thank you so much! I forgot how much fun it is."

Eddie laughs on the other end of the line. 

"I'm glad to be of help. What did you get?"

"A bonsai tree. It looks great."

"Good to know you're living my dream," he chuckles. 

"What do you mean?" Steve asks curiously, before flopping down on his bed for the conversation. 

"I fucking love Lego, but this shit is so expensive. And, don't tell anyone," Eddie lowers his voice. "But I do like flowers, and can't keep them alive neither."

"I'll keep that in mind," Steve chuckles. "Sooo, when will you be free to meet up?"

"When you said about changes, I didn't think you mean...."

"Tits?" Eddie finishes for him, her shoulders angling in to hide. "If you can even call them that."

"No, don't hide! They're—"

A smirk grows on Eddie's face. She might be wearing make up and style her hair differently, but her dimples are all the same.

"Yeah? How are my tits, Harrington?" she teases.

"Shut up," he grumbles. "You look good, okay? And you'll keep changing, right?"

"Oh, yeah. I'm aiming for a rack..." she forms her hands into cups in front of her chest. "...this big."

"Who'll pay for the chiropractor?" he raises his eyebrows.

"Uh, my rock star salary? Duh," she rolls her eyes. 

"Mom, I am a rich man?" 

"Exactly," Eddie grins at him.

On their way back, Steve pulls her into a florist's and buys a single rose. 

"For the Women's Day I've missed," he explains, handing it over with a wink.

Next year, Eddie gets two bouquets: live red roses and a sunflower Lego set.

tags: @blasvemous @phantomcat94 @wheneverfeasible

[greenandsorrow]

Hiya I was wondering if you could do a prompt where fem reader is in [as in actress] in all the slashers movies even if it's as a background character? How they would react to her?Have a nice day no worries if you don't get to it!

Author's note: Greetings, slasher community! This is my first work featuring our delicious psychos! Unless you count my platonic Pennywise multi chap (I know he's not technically a slasher, but still). Hopefully, I've covered most of them ♥️

Disclaimer (ig): I left Art the Clown out because, oddly enough, I haven't watched Terrifier yet -but trust me, once I do, I'm sure it'll turn into an unhealthy obsession. Accept my apologies for now.

Rating: Aside from the obv gory nature of the whole thing, it's mostly sfw, with only minor suggestive innuendos. Don't try these relationship dynamics irl.

Featuring: Michael Myers, Jason Voorhees, Freddy Krueger, Ghostface (in the vague sense), Leatherface, The Grabber, Pennywise (1990), Pennywise (2017), William Afton because he's an undead serial killer and because I can (book, game, movie, not Springtrap this time), +BONUS CHARACTER

~the slashers x fem!actress!reader

Michael Myers 🏠🎃

The living room is silent except for the audio of Scream playing on the TV. You're lounging on the couch, mindlessly watching -until Michael, standing by the wall like a shadow, suddenly pauses the screen.

You blink. "Uh… what?"

Michael remains completely still as he observes the paused frame. A frame of you mid-sprint in the background of the classic horror movie, being chased by Ghostface. Anyone else would argue about whether that's really you, but Michael already knows. He's seen you move like this before. Maybe he's even chased you this way.

Without a word, he switches discs. He presses forward on the console.

And there you are -blurry in the background of a trick-or-treating scene in some other horror media, dressed as a generic babysitter, chatting with another actress. It's barely a second of screen time.

Michael turns his masked face toward you, his posture unreadable.

You shrug. "I needed money. It was just background gigs."

He keeps staring.

Stalker mode: activated.

Jason Voorhees ⛺🪓

You're leaning against his shoulder, a throw blanket draped over both of you.

Jason tilts his head, then turns to you, then back at the screen, then to you again.

If he could speak, he'd be asking "When was this?"

If he cared about emotions, he'd be offended.

You've been in so many slasher movies and never once did you mention it... Are you okay? Have you been running from psychos your whole life? He's almost worried about you.

Expect some extra protective hovering and a machete presented as a gift of comfort.

Freddy Krueger 🔥🌙

"Oh-ho-ho! Look at you, Hollywood! Running for your life again! What's your IMBD looking like, sweetheart? Professional Screamer?"

Freddy cackles, pausing and rewinding just to enjoy your panicked face.

"Damn, you're good. Ever considered coming to MY movies?" He waggles his claws at you. "Bet I could give you some real nightmare material." He's joking. Mostly. But you might want to lock your bedroom door tonight.

Just in case.

Ghostface (in general) 📞🔪

The moment your familiar figure flashes across the screen, Ghostface pauses the movie so fast the remote nearly cracks in his grip.

"Well, well, well… what do we have here?" His voice drips with amusement, though there's a sharp edge of something else... Interest? Possessiveness? A touch of jealousy? Hard to say.

He leans forward, taking in every detail. "You didn't tell me you were in Scream, getting killed by other Ghostfaces -or Halloween, or Friday the 13th, or literally every horror movie ever made.... Even in Child's Play?!"

He clicks his tongue, pretending to be offended. "And here I thought we had something special."

His gloved fingers tap against your thigh as he considers. "So, do you always run from killers, or are you just playing hard to get?"

A chuckle follows, dark and playful. "You know, I could give you a much more… hands-on experience than any of these amateurs."

He lets the movie roll again, but now he's watching you, not the film. "Final girl, background character, victim... Doesn't matter. You'll always be my favorite scream queen."

Leatherface 🪚🌾

Leatherface watches in silence. A chainsaw in his lap, forgotten.

He doesn't understand movies too well, but he does understand that's you being chased by someone who isn't him.

Excuse me?

You let someone else do the chasing? And you never told him?

Next thing you know, he's pacing, huffing under his breath. Expect extra possessiveness and a LOT of lingering looks.

Also, if that actor playing Ghostface suddenly goes missing… you know nothing.

The Grabber (Albert Shaw) 🎩🎭

The room is dimly lit, the glow of the TV flickering against the walls as A Nightmare on Elm Street plays. He turns to you, eyes glinting behind the sockets of his signature mask. A low chuckle rumbles from his throat. "Look at that."

His voice is smooth, almost teasing. "You're so good at being scared."

He fixates on the screen, watching the way your body moves, the way you fight to survive. Something about it simply delights him.

"You know, you'd look even better in my basement" he muses, his tone almost affectionate. "No cameras. No audience. Just you and me."

His gloved fingers tap against the armrest. "I wonder if you'd last as long as they let you in the movies…"

Then, suddenly, he laughs -light, breathy, as if the thought genuinely amuses him. "Maybe, you'd last even longer... If I want you to."

Pennywise (1990) 🎈🍿

Bob Gray is having the time of his life watching you in all these horror movies. He's laughing, cackling, absolutely thriving.

"Y'know, I could've given you real horrors to perform, kiddo!" His grin stretches wide. "And that running? Pfft! Amateur work! You should see how kids run from me!"

"Oh-ho! There you are again, kiddo! Look at you run! And run! And run some more! Boy, you really know how to make a monster work for it!"

But then, he sees him. His replacement. His knock-off.

The smile fades. He leans forward, elbows on his knees, squinting at the screen like a father seeing his daughter bring home the wrong guy.

"You've got to be kidding me."

"Look at this guy. Thinks he's scary." He flicks a dismissive palm at the screen. "Ooooh, I'm tall! Ooooh, I drool all over myself! Ooooh, I wear frilly clown pants like I just crawled out of a Victorian nightmare!"

He turns to you, voice dripping with sarcasm. "You fought this guy?"

A wheezing laugh escapes him. "Honey, you downgraded! Big time!"

"He tastes fear? Kiddo, I invented that shit. He's just doing a cheap impression of yours truly. And let's not even talk about that goofy-ass head-tilt he does."

He jerks his head side to side in an exaggerated impression. "What's the matter, buddy? Need a chiropractor?"

With a smirk, he throws an arm around you, pulling you close like some sleazy salesman. "Listen, sweetheart, if you really wanna be haunted by a clown, why not go with the original? Hmm?"

His sharp teeth flash you a smile. "I'm funnier. I'm nastier. And I won't just stand there like some awkward mime in oversized shoes."

Pennywise (2017) 🎪🩸

Pennywise watches, slowly tilting his head. Then tilting it more. And more.

"You run so well" he purrs, voice thick with amusement. "You know… I could chase you better."

He grins, showing sharp teeth. "Would you like to practice?"

Is he joking? Is he serious? It doesn't matter.

The moment he spots you in IT -in a grainy, VHS quality shot of Derry- his entire body stiffens. Then, his gloved fingers start twitching against his knees. His lips part in something between a sneer and a pout.

"You… you were in his movie?" His voice drops into a guttural growl. His yellow eyes flick between you and the screen, utterly insulted. "That knockoff? That circus reject?"

For a moment, he says nothing. Just stares.

Then, suddenly, he bursts into shrill, mocking laughter. "Ahaha! Oh, I get it! You were doing charity work!"

He claps his hands together, the sound unnervingly.

"Helping the less fortunate! That's just so sweet of you!"

He stops laughing a little too abruptly. He looms closer now, voice dipping into something almost sultry, eyes gleaming in the flickering light.

"Tell me, little star…" His grin is wide, impossibly sharp.

"Did he taste you, too?" His head jerks to the side with a sickening crack. "Or were you saving yourself for someone better?"

Before you can answer, his arms snap around you, yanking you into his lap. His breath, hot and damp, ghosts over your throat.

"You're mine now" he coos, teeth just barely grazing your skin.

"My movie. My horror. My little leading lady." His grip tightens possessively.

William Afton (Book Version) 🐰🔦

Book Afton doesn't just watch the screen.

He studies it.

Cold, calculating eyes track every movement you make, every scream, every desperate attempt to escape. The slight twitch of his lips is the only sign of amusement -well, that and the way his fingers tighten around his armrest just a little too hard.

"All those killers" he murmurs, voice as smooth as velvet. "And yet, you always slip through their fingers. Fascinating."

His smile is thin, mirthless. "I wonder… is it luck that keeps you alive, dear girl?"

His fingers reach out, slow, deliberate, tracing a ghost of a touch on your wrist.

"Or instinct?"

His eyes glint dangerously. "I'd like to find out."

And then, he moves.

One second, he's across the couch. The next? You're caged against the armrest, his breath chilling your skin.

"You scream so pretty for them." His voice dips lower, like he's enjoying the chase. "Let's see how pretty you scream for me."

William Afton (Game Version) 👾📺

"We do love a good game of chase in this establishment." He smirks tiredly, tapping his fingers against the desk. "Perhaps you'd like a private audition?"

That's a yes whether you like it or not.

"Hah" he exhales, voice deep, rich and unmistakably British. "Now, that's just precious."

His pale eyes dilate as he watches you on his computer screen, just another background character in a slasher film. "You're terrified, aren't you?" His smirk grows. "And yet, you survived. Brave, little thing."

He clicks his tongue, straightening.

"You know…" he begins, casual, like talking about the weather. "Slashers today are so messy. Bloody, predictable, boring…"

His fingers flex, like he's imagining them wrapped around something. "But me? I was crafted for this. A mind sharper than any knife, a body that refuses to die…"

His smirk sharpens, dark amusement flickering in his irises. "And of course... I don't just chase, darling. I build my nightmares."

He watches your reaction, drinking it in. "Animatronics, trap rooms, hidden passageways… There's no running when the entire building is designed to keep you in."

A low chuckle escapes him. "Now… wouldn't that be fun?

"Oh? No, no, darling! I'm not going to hurt you... I thought you'd be impressed by... this. By my brilliance. Can we at least have a drink later?"

William Afton (Movie Version) 🍕🗃️

Afton watches in eerie silence.

"Hmm."

His expression is unreadable, but you can feel the gears turning in his head. "You have a habit of escaping things, don't you?"

A pause. Then, a half smirk.

"How interesting." He doesn't say more, but from that day on, you swear he watches you just a little too closely. Maybe you shouldn't have let him see that.

"Ohh, now we're talking!" William practically purrs, leaning back on the couch with an easy grin.

"Look at you! Little horror darling. Final girl energy, but still gets caught. Mmm, chef's kiss."

He actually makes the gesture, grinning at the screen like a director admiring his finest work.

Then, his expression shifts. Turns sharper. Hungrier

"But you know, sweetheart… these guys? Hack jobs." He gestures lazily at the killers on-screen.

"Me? I play for keeps."

His fingers trail down your arm, slow, teasing. "Never made you wonder if the monster really wanted to hurt you… or just wanted to keep you?"

He laughs, the sound warm, playful -dangerous.

bonus~

Slender Man 🌲🚫

The static hums through the speakers before the screen distorts. The lights flicker. Something in the air shifts... and you know before even turning your head -he's watching.

Slender Man stands in the shadows, unmoving, unreadable. He has no eyes, no expression, no face -and yet, the pressure of his gaze coils around you like an unseen force. A protecting one, to your relief.

You appear on the screen, a fleeting glimpse -a background figure, passing through some darkened corridor in a forgotten horror film. His head tilts, impossibly slow, almost… curious.

A long limb raises, fingers tapering into nothingness. He reaches -not toward the screen, but toward you.

The images on the television distort again. The signal is lost, replaced by static.

A silent message. A warning.

Or an invitation.

Then, the shadows stretch. The dark pools at the edges of the room, deepening, swallowing the corners. The walls feel further away than they should be.

A whisper brushes the nape of your neck, though no words are spoken.

Help me make my hardworking mom's birthday special! Every little contribution goes toward getting her a gift. Your kindness means the world to me and I truly appreciate your support! Thank you so much!!! CLICKHERE ♥️ (PayPal link)

My masterlist.

Divider by @strangergraphics.

It/Fnaf taglist, you might like this (@satubby @sketchist-art @urdeftonesgrrrl @vampirecrow38 @lilac-and-lavender @sra7riddle-malfoy)

[daengtokki]

part one // serial killer!Kim Seungmin/afab reader

WC: ~10k

RATING: mature/explicit/mdni—contains: rough sex, manipulation, strangulation, blood, implied drugging, murder

SYNOPSIS: Seungmin floats through life alone, haunted by his memories—keeping himself under control, and quieting his mind the only way he knows how…killing and watching the life leave his victims eyes. When you cross his path on a morning hunt, something new (something forgotten) starts to move inside of him, leading both of you on a path to confront the unspeakable past.

[ ML— DEITY MASTERLIST ]

The smell of smoke reaches his nose, and the craving comes on so suddenly, and so strong…he hates this, not being able to control something so small. He doesn't have much control at all, if he thinks about it. He hasn't had any real control in years—just the illusion of it. The first chance Seungmin gets, he disappears into a convenience store, and he walks back out with a pack of cigarettes clenched in one hand. He bites down on a fresh book of matches as he bounces it against the heel of his palm, eyes still carefully scanning the streets as he unwraps the plastic and pops one between his lips.

The sound of the match against the striker strip is enough to calm his nerves, but the first slow drag quiets his mind and numbs the itch in his limbs. The part of his brain that doesn't shut up when it's time likes to smoke lately, it seems, so he listens. More of his illusion.

Just as he pulls in another lungful, you breeze past him, head down, eyes glued to your phone. Seungmin can see exactly what you're doing—looking at a map as you walk, probably a little lost, and you’re mumbling quietly. Scolding yourself, maybe, but taking your time and obviously trying to keep it together. He wonders just how lost you are, but he doesn't move right away…he’s smarter than that. That itch returns very quickly, despite the cigarette, and his legs shake a little with the anticipation of following behind. Lucky for him, you stop and duck under the awning for some shade, and probably to get your bearings.

He likes the way you look.

You feign confidence, and you really are doing a great job of fitting in and acting like you know where you are—where you need to go. If anyone else was nearby, they wouldn't even suspect you needed help. And you’re pretty. Seungmin thinks you probably don’t know that, not here, so out of your element. You are, though.

Just as he moves to approach you, you lift your gaze, and your eyes find his. Seungmin freezes for a moment, then slowly takes the cigarette from him lips. “Hello,” he smiles and turns away a little to blow out his smoke. “I’m sorry, I can…” he discards it, then turns back, hoping your eyes are still on him…

He was a little rushed this morning, his hair dryer broke, and he spilled an entire iced coffee on his way out the door. Going out today didn’t seem like the best idea, but he figured he would at least make the attempt, and try again tomorrow if he had to. Seungmin is very glad he tried today. You still look up at him with keen, hopeful eyes when he turns to face you again.

“…put this out.” He tries English—it’s the only western language he knows. “Do you need help reading your map?”

Still, you stare…silent. If you don’t speak English or Korean, he’s out of luck, and he’ll have to drag himself back home, alone, and crawl into bed until tomorrow.

“Yes…thank you”

He sighs internally, and smiles softly at you. Once again, his looks (and his fluent English) get him what he wants. Seungmin doubts you would have taken the help if that first look didn't get something moving in you. He could see it in your eyes. “Where are you headed? I might be more useful than that map.”

Still, you hesitate for a brief moment, “...my apartment. I took the bus, and I missed it coming back. But I think I’m almost there. I’m just a little anxious, and I’m being stupid…”

“No, you’re not. Have you been here long? In Seoul?”

“About a week”

“No, not stupid. What’s the address?”

/ / /

“Stay close, we can probably get the whole way across.” He looks back at you, and slows enough for you to catch up to his long strides. “No, maybe not,” he takes your wrist in his hand, and it’s unnecessary, because you stop with him. It’s a good start…the first touch. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you glance at him, and then to his hand wrapped around you, “I think I know where I’m at now.”

“You think?”

“I think”

“I’ll take you to your building. You don’t have to invite me up…promise.”

It’s another two blocks before you finally see it, and the sight of it is a relief. Seungmin can almost feel the tension leave your body as you approach it, but there’s a long moment of silence between you when you finally get there.

Eventually, you unfreeze yourself and speak,“thank you for your help…uh, what should I call you?”

“Thank you for letting me help. You can call me Seungmin.” He smiles shyly when he says his name.

“Seungmin, is it okay if do?”

“Do what?” He already knows what you’re getting at, but he cocks his head and bites his lip.

“Invite you up. I’m sure you have better things to do, though.”

Seungmin loves the flush in your cheeks when you ask. The nervous energy that left you returns, and it gets his blood pumping everywhere it needs to—his heartbeat jumps, and he hopes his cheeks pink up a little bit, too. “No, that’s been my best offer all day.” He knows he can’t do anything here, but this is also an unusual feeling—visiting the home of a potential victim. It's not necessary, and it's very personal...and it's a little bit awkward.

“This is cute.” Seungmin stands in one spot, and examines the tiny apartment. It’s simple, and still a little plain, but you’ve barely had time to settle. He can picture the twin size bed you’re sleeping on, and how the two of you would barely fit; the commotion you’d make…the mess. The thought sends a jolt of pleasure through him, and he feels himself getting hard as he watches you stare so intensely.

“What?” He smirks. You smile back, so Seungmin lets his grow a little wider.

“Do you want some coffee? You look like a coffee person.”

“I am, I would love some”

/ / /

“You’re a long way from home,” Seungmin says over the rim of his mug, casually scanning every part of you as he does—your bare feet shuffling on the area rug; your legs, easy to admire in the tight leggings you’re wearing; body sinking comfortably into the squishy couch. He sits up and turns himself toward you a little more. “May I ask why?”

“Work. But I think I’m very under-qualified for the position…I took it to get away from my old life, and my ex.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Bad breakup?”

“Bad enough…I’m sure things could’ve been worse”

If he can find out when the break-up happened, Seungmin can figure out just how vulnerable you still are. “If it was worth coming this far, I’m sure it was bad.” Reaching out right now and grabbing your throat would be so, so easy. It would be nothing; his hands would wrap perfectly around your delicate neck. He can almost feel the snap of your hyoid, your pulse as it speeds up; slows down; stops completely. Vulnerable, but still guarded—soft, sad eyes, and nervous fingers tapping against the mug, turned slightly away from him.

Still, when you look at him again, you light up a little. “My turn…what were you doing smoking outside a GS25 all alone this morning? I’m very glad you were there…just curious.”

“Oh…” Seungmin actually laughs at that—a genuine laugh. He wasn’t prepared for such a blunt question. “People watching, I guess. I like to observe.” He notices your eyes wondering over him, the same as he did to you, only you’re a lot less subtle about it. “What is it?”

“What do you do for a living?”

A living. What does he do for a living? He doesn’t do anything except survive day to day within his careful, tedious routine. He’s a trust-fund baby, thank god. Seungmin can’t imagine having to work a day job, deal with the public, wear a mask every moment of the day just to get by.

“I make music…write, produce. Independently. Nothing major, but it pays the bills.” It’s not his usual lie, but it seems fitting for you. It’s not even a lie, because Seungmin does make music—music that has ever seen the light of day.

“You sing?”

Seungmin nods, puts on another shy smile for you. “Yeah, I do. Mostly for myself, though.” He’s not used to fielding so many personal questions so quickly, because by now, someone has their mouth on something. Or something in it. The thought gives him another twinge in his groin, and he almost whines along with his sigh.

Now is probably a good time to get more information, but his dick continues to distract him. “Uhm, what was your promotion? What do you do?” Not this information, but he has to start somewhere.

“Nothing very exciting. Customer relations for a cosmetics company. I don’t like it very much, but it pays well enough, and I’m here now.”

“Is that where you went this morning?” It’s almost too nosy, but he goes with it. “Sorry, that’s not really my business.”

“No, it’s okay. I was coming back from Dongguk University. I’m taking language classes."

He takes the opportunity to switch to Korean, “good…so you don’t speak any Korean?”

And all you can do is stare back, clueless. “I think I caught a word,” you laugh when he grins at you.

“I’m going to have so much fun with you”

An exchange of phone numbers, the promise of dinner, and Seungmin is on his way back home. Empty handed, yes, but he already has a plan unfolding in his mind. A few times before, he’s deliberately taken his time—did the cat and mouse thing, or more appropriately for him, a dog with a bone. It’s usually not by choice, though. He may have to find another in the meantime; something quick and easy to hold him over. Rushing things with you won't satisfy him.

“Wow, this is…great,” the girl turns and gives Seungmin a heavy, confident look. She only has one thing on her mind, but he’s alright with getting straight to the point. “How about the bedroom?” So why does the eagerness almost turn him off? It’s a stark contrast to what you just gave him, and to what anyone else ever gives him. The dates he picks up don’t want coffee and conversation.

There is no foreplay—not a single touch until his pants are undone and on the floor, but she goes for his shirt, and Seungmin grabs for her wandering hands.

“What’s wrong…self-conscious?” She slips one under and runs her fingertips across his ribs.

He has to tilt his head to the side to avoid her lips. “No, I’m not.”

“You are a little skinny, but that’s okay”

The gasp the girl makes when he grabs the side of her neck, the little bit of fear in her eyes, is what finally gets him completely hard. He squeezes, just enough to not be threatening, and she relaxes for a moment.

“Sorry…sorry, just teasing,” she smiles a little, and her eyes dart from the window, and then back to him.

“Get on your knees”

She does so without hesitation, but Seungmin turns and walks away before she has a chance to touch again. There wasn’t much prep for this, so he has to be careful, and he has to be quiet, so he stares absently into the drawer of his bedside table for a few long moments. Handcuffs could be helpful, but the gag might be even better. He opts for the handcuffs, and when the girl sees them dangling from his finger, she smiles. “Okay, I like kinky…are those for me?”

Seungmin nods, and very gently secures one of her wrists. The other end snaps around the bedpost. Now she reaches her free hand toward him and gets a handful of dick, and he lets her touch.

“Are you gonna be a tease now? Take these off.”

A hand comes down fast, and again she gasps as he tightens his grip around her throat. She grabs for him and claws at his skin, but it does nothing. His grip still tightens, even as her nails cut and a thin line of blood starts to form. Seungmin relaxes, and then lets go.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” She coughs and pulls at the cuff, but it's not going anywhere. “Get this off of me. Now."

None of this is new for him, and most of the time, his jobs aren't easy. Last time, he was lucky. "No," Seungmin laughs and pulls his shirt over his head, but just as he's about to return to his drawer for something new, he hears his phone buzz in the pocket of his discarded jeans.

"Take these off…please"

"Not yet, relax"

"But you will? What are you gonna do? I'm sorry I teased you…please, you can do whatever you want, but—"

"But? I can do whatever I want, but what?"

The fear in her eyes is enough of an answer, but another buzz of his phone distracts her for the briefest moment. "Please let me go. We can just pretend this never happened.”

Seungmin goes for his phone this time, "no, I don’t do that," and stares at the number for a few seconds before recognizing it, because he didn't add you to his contacts. He's not even sure he should.

Hi! I just wanted to thank you again for being so kind. I haven't had any really nice interactions with anyone until I met you today. And there is a place a block way from me that I've been wanting to try since I got here, if you're still interested.

Seungmin doesn't catch himself grinning, but his guest does. "Good news?" She asks. "Look, this was just a date gone bad. I'm not into whatever kinky shit you're into.”

He's bored. To be honest, he's been bored since he got this girl back to the apartment, so this may not do the job as well as he was expecting—he’s already starting to get soft. But letting someone go? Seungmin doesn't do that. The phone gets tossed onto the bed as he makes his way back to his drawer, and this time, he knows what he needs. The girl gasps and screams as soon as she sees the glint of the blade against the lamplight—the gag definitly would have helped, but it's too late now. The neighbors are mosty likely at work, at least.

The rattle of the cuffs against the bedpost is annoying, and Seungmin thinks for a moment that it might actually break. "You need to relax, and you need to be quiet. This…" he gestures to her antics, "this is not helping either of us."

"Fuck you, you're gonna burn in hell"

That's the last thing she says. There is one more reach, and one more scratch of her nails (right across his cheek), but she gives in as soon as the knife slides neatly between her ribs. One last hitch in her throat, one last exhale, and the light fades from her eyes. Exactly what he needed.

"I know"

I am still interested. I wonder if we're thinking of the same place.

He sends that off and thinks, but the first text is more of a challenge to acknowledge.

I'm glad I could be your first.

It doesn't sound quite right to him, but maybe that's a good thing. He sends that, too.

Now he looks to the lifeless body on his floor. The blood has soaked through her clothes, and onto the area rug where she was kneeling. Seungmin suddenly remembers why he hates doing things this way. Okay, no blood for a while, he thinks as he begins to conceal the body. He has a long day ahead of him now.

The week passes slowly, and Seungmin spends it hidden away in his bedroom. He wrote a little, and he forced himself to sing last night, but aside from that, he's just existed beneath the warmth of his blankets. One more text came from you a few days ago, but he hasn't bothered looking at it yet. Ignoring his phone has been a test for himself, and he has done pretty well at not thinking about what you said.

That can't last forever, though. Seungmin doesn't think you're going to lose interest that easily. He knows you won't. And besides, he's hungry. It's time to get out of bed.

I'm free all day on Thursday

Fuck, today is Thursday. Seungmin sits up in bed and stares at the screen, thinks…wonders if chasing you will be worth it in the end. What if he spends all of this time on you, and it doesn’t fill the need he’s expecting it to? What if it’s just like the last one? He starts to type.

I am free today. I'm sorry I took so long to reply. I understand if you made other plans.

No, it can’t be as bad as that one.

Lunch. Maybe a walk, if it's not to cold for you. Back to the apartment. It's not time, though. The feeling hasn't quite returned yet, and it won't feel right if he does this now. Maybe today isn't the day.

I'm still free. Let me know when!

But lunch wouldn't hurt. Seungmin needs you here, in this apartment, if he's going to do this right. He needs you comfortable with him.

I can get dressed and head to your building. Half an hour? Meet me outside.

/ / /

You dressed up for him. He's still a half a block away, and you’re turned in the opposite direction, but he can tell that you put some thought and effort into your outfit. Seungmin looks the same as he typically does; black jeans, black sneakers, a Carhartt jacket over a loose fitting t-shirt. Not much effort, really, but…

"Hi!" You examine him, not so subtly, starting from his dark parted hair, all the way down his long, slender legs. The smile on your face grows when you meet his eyes again. "How was your walk?"

Now it's beginning to feel like a date, and it’s very obvious that you’re attracted to him. There’s no doubt you would’ve looked at him the same had he arrived in the sweatpants he had on in bed this morning. "Very nice. How was the trip from your apartment?"

Seungmin gets a genuine laugh out of you. “It was great, I was very excited to get down here and see you.”

Excited to see him. Okay. Seungmin is used to the attention, but he isn’t as used to the cute, innocent flirting. He sees your cheeks blush before you drop your gaze.

“You lead the way”

He nods, and brushes by you very gently.

Lunch is perfectly normal; a real date. Seungmin learns a little more about you, and you learn a few more exaggerated, somewhat true things about him. The breakup between you and your ex was recent—only six weeks ago. The move was actually the catalyst for ending things. You confessed to him that you’re still unsure if it was the right thing to do, but you are beginning to like living in Seoul already. Maybe because of him. You thanked him again for his help, so Seungmin starts to wonder if simple kindness isn’t something you’re used to. Getting it from him seems a little ironic.

“Would you like to take a walk?” The second part of his plan already seems to be in motion, because you walked right by your building without even realizing. “There’s a nice park I like to visit about a half a mile that way, and a cafe a little closer, actually.”

“Either sounds good"

“Or, my apartment is closer than both. And I have a very nice coffee bar. And a regular bar, if you prefer.”

He hears your soft laugh, and he can picture you blushing again. A no wouldn’t surprise him, though—going straight to his apartment was beginning to feel like a stretch, but he has to ask. After all, you did invite him up fifteen minutes into knowing him.

"Are you gonna make me a homeade latte?"

"Whatever you desire"

/ / /

Seungmin waits for you to give him a surprised look as soon as he leads you through his front door, just like everyone else does, but you don’t. You’re quiet as you take your shoes off and look around, and you don’t make a sound until he speaks up.

“Make yourself comfortable. I’ll get the espresso machine going.”

“You must do good work”

“I wouldn’t say that. My dad left me a lot when he died, so I can’t take any credit for it.” Why did he say that? He had no reason to tell the truth, and yet, it slipped right out.

Now you do give him a look—a sad, apologetic one. “Well, I’m sure you still do good work.”

Seungmin keeps his mouth shut as he flips a switch and grinds the coffee beans. You don’t say anything else, but he watches you watching him carefully from the corner of his eye as he works. He makes one for himself, too, and as he walks to join you, a reflection on the hardwood makes him stop in his tracks. A small, silver earring is shining up at him, and he silently scolds himself for his sloppy cleanup. How did he miss that all week? He did stay in bed for most of that time, but he has never, not once, left something behind. It looks clean, at least...no blood.

“What’s wrong?” You look to where he’s looking, and you see whatever has him frozen. A small silver hoop earring.

“Uh, nothing…” he sets both coffees down on the table and tries to ignore it, but he can’t. Besides, you’ve seen it, and he can’t just leave it there. Seungmin wonders if he left something even more damning in the apartment as he bends to pick it up.

“One of your dates lost something?” You say it casually…just an observation, “I assume you have a lot of them coming and going.” But Seungmin looks ready to defend himself.

“No…no, I don’t. Not that often, really.” He slips it into his pocket. “How is your drink. I can make another if it’s not quite right.”

“It looks good,” you pick it up and hold it under your nose, “smells good,” and take a slow, careful sip. It’s hot, but just the right amount of hot. “It’s very good, thank you.”

He sits down, and his knee grazes against yours. You hold still and watch his hand run down his thigh, follow his arm up to his shoulder—to his neck, where his loose t-shirt reveals some collarbone, soft and tan. Seungmin is staring right through you, and he doesn't seem to realize it. The movement of his eyes is hypnotizing, and they're so big and dark, you feel like they could swallow you whole.

Just when you think he's going to reach for his coffee, his hand lifts toward you, and everything moves in slow motion—Seungmin's tongue pokes out to wet his lips, he bites down on it a little…and his fingertips just barely graze the far side of your neck.

You shake free of your trance and move back.

"Sorry"

"It's alright," you take another long sip of your coffee and avoid his gaze, but you can feel him staring at you. Hard. You look around his big, well decorated apartment and suddenly wonder how you ended up here with a man you hardly know, inches from him, his eyes eating away at you.

He's not sure why he went for that touch. Curiousity, maybe. Your skin looks soft, it is soft, and though he has no overwhelming urges at the moment, he still wants to to know how your skin feels squeezed against his palms, and pinched between his fingers. The image gives him a pleasant twinge in his stomach, and he doesn't even think about the possibility of his dick growing in his jeans right here and now. Today, nothing will happen, and if he scares you off now, he’ll never get you here alone again. It’s not a risk worth taking.

“I am…please forgive me. I don’t know why I did that. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

“I don’t.” It’s a little bit of a lie, but he seems sincere. It’s easier to relax and take a deep breath now that he’s up and making a little bit of distance between you. Still, you admire him from this angle—his long, slender legs, perfect in proportion to the rest of him. Broad shoulders, and a strong looking back that you can see when the light hits his white t-shirt just right.

His face is soft, his jaw is strong, and his skin pretty, but not quite perfect. Seungmin looks like a piece of art come to life, and he’s here with to you. Talking to you. Staring at you. Reaching out to touch you.

There has to be something wrong with him.

“Are you okay?”

“Hm? Yes, I’m okay”

“I asked if you wanted to see the balcony”

There is no doubt he caught you admiring him. The grin on his face warms your cheeks…it warms your entire body. “Yeah, sure”

The balcony is in his bedroom.

Very cautiously, you walk through the doorway, but you’re not sure why you’re still on edge. So far, Seungmin has been sweet and thoughtful…maybe a little odd, but not so odd that it should concern you. Regardless of how handsome he is, maybe he really doesn’t go on many dates, or even get out of this apartment very often…his room is dark and moody, maybe more of a reflection of his mind than anything else in the apartment. Everything looks expensive—the high windows, the lighting, the music equipment in the corner. His bed is oversized and covered in soft pillows, and an old stuffed dog sits right in the middle. It looks like it’s seen better days. Seungmin doesn’t stop to show you around, though. He heads straight for the balcony.

“You’re not afraid of heights?”

You shake your head.

“Good. It’s a nice view.”

It is a nice view, because he’s almost at the very top. The wind gusts a few times as you stand there, and the air is chilly, but Seungmin stands to your side and blocks most of it. His eyes burn into you again, and you’re starting to like it.

“I should probably go.” Another lie. There is no reason to leave, and you don’t want to, but if you do stay, something will certainly happen.

“Oh, of course…I can call a ride for you”

And you want something to happen. Being in his room, within falling distance of his bed, is driving you a little bit crazy. His big, soft eyes are driving you crazy. But you barely know him, and you’ve barely settled into your new life. Feeling vulnerable isn’t new, but you’re extra vulnerable right now, and you know what can happen when you feel that way.

/ / /

Someone else will come along, and he’ll be fine. Eventually, he’ll come across another perfect one, and when he does, he won’t drag his feet and fuck things up. You were right here, inches from him…more than within reach, and Seungmin is not used to failing at getting his way. Maybe he missed something. Seungmin isn’t completely aloof when it comes to emotions and reading them on people, but he doesn’t typically bother with it, and he isn’t the best at it.

Fortunately, he doesn't have to dwell on it too long. You send him a text right before he begins to doze off that night...

Thank you for lunch today, and the walk…and coffee. Sorry I ended everything so quickly, it was nothing personal. I would like to see you again.

Okay, everything is fine. Just a little overreaction on his part. He just…scared you off? Came on a little too strong with the neck touch, more than likely. It didn't seem like much, but you're obviously a little reticent.

I would like to see you again

No reply to that, but a heart pops up next to his message after it sends.

He drags himself to the other end of the street, but he's tired. Sleep hasn't come easily the past few days, and the nightmares that come and go have returned…the same ones—the old shed, the soft, rain soaked ground, and the earth covering his father's hands when he reaches out for Seungmin. There's more, so much more, but it always comes in pieces. Maybe tonight he'll get another piece.

For now he focuses on the woman entering the bar, and he's certain he's going to lose her in there on a busy Saturday night. The urges have returned, and the sleepless nights haven't made things any easier, so he has to do something, and this half-hearted chase helps a litte bit. You haven't said a word since Thursday, and if you don't by tomorrow morning, he might just come and find you himself. If that's the case, he doesn't even need to pursue this one—he can go back home, take a hot shower, make a strong drink, and finish his nightmare.

“Seungmin?”

His heart jumps into his throat.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sneak up on you”

It’s you. It’s your soft, lilting voice, and your pleasant accent. He turns and your eyes connect, but his heart still continues to pound. “Hi, what are doing so far from home?” Very far. He ventured a little further out of his comfort zone this time around. Running into you this far away can't be a coincidence, even if Seungmin doesn't believe in things like that.

“You first”

“Oh, uh…trying to be social, I guess”

“It’s alright, you don’t have to tell me the truth.” You smile at his smirk. “A few of my classmates dragged me along, but I’m over it already. I don’t usually stay up this late.”

“I can ride home with you, if you’d like. Unless I can convince you to have a drink with me first.”

You think about it, but not for very long. Part of you wants to make up for last time, and for struggling to text him back. “Yes to both. Can we try a different bar?” The other part wants to remain strong.

“Of course, anything you want”

“Your bar?”

But the former part is bigger.

It's a quiet ride back to his place, but it's not an awkward quiet. Seungmin is relaxed, body turned sightly toward you, and you can tell he's watching every subtle movement you make; the fidgeting of your fingers, and the bounce of your knee, the occasional shift to adjust yourself and pull at your sweater. You can't quite figure out what he seems to see in you, and maybe that's part of your hesitation—being a clueless foreigner with a native drinking up every little thing, emphasis on little, that you have to you offer.

He walks ahead of you as you head for the elevator, and it's another opportunity to look at him in the harsh light. The leather jacket he's wearing is a bit big, but it doesn't hide the broadness of his shoulders. Just as you move your eyes down, he begins to take it off and reveal even more. His muscles move delicately beneath the black t-shirt as it slides down his arms, this time a more form-fitting one, tucked loosely into his black jeans. Tiny waist, narrow hips, but just enough ass to grab.

The elevator opens and he turns to you, "don't worry, I won’t keep you up too late."

When you arrived, he did all of the things guy's don't actually do on your dates: pay for the ride, open the door, hold a hand out for you. It was a little bit cheesy, but you're not going to complain about his good manners.

"Do you mind if I change? I can smell the smoke on me."

You shake your head at him, make yourself comfortable on the couch, and listen carefully as he moves around in his bedroom…the slide of a drawer, a door softly opening and closing. He's not in there long, and when he comes out, he looks like a different person.

Seungmin’s face is so striking, and it’s like that no matter what he does to his hair, but he definitely combed everything back with his fingers while he changed. It’s parted just off to the side and pushed away from his eyes, save for a few lose strands, and his eyes are so pretty and intense. The outfit is completely different—a loose fitting t-shirt, a thin white one this time, and sweatpants. It looks so out of place, because the three times you’ve seen him, he was dressed a little more than casual.

A silver Chanel necklace still hangs around his neck, and you wonder if he just forgot about it. “Better?” You stand and take a step toward him, he moves a little closer, but heads toward his small, but elaborate bar.

“Yeah,” he smiles and beckons you. “What do you like to drink?”

“What do you think I like?”

“Oh…good question, let me think,” he very patiently scans over his selection…

Ice in the shaker, cherry soju, coconut vodka—he gives it a shake, never breaking eye contact until he has to grab a glass and pours—he stops and looks around, thinks, then grabs another bottle from under the bar. As soon as he twists the cap off, the sweet smell hits you. Seungmin tops it off with cream soda, and drops in a cherry before sliding it toward you. Then he pours some for himself, minus the soda.

“Is this me as a cocktail?”

He sips his, and you can hear a little laugh from behind the glass. “First impression? Yeah. Is it good?”

“It’s good, it’s sweet…goes down easy”

“Oh, I hope so”

The whole room warms. You feel like you’re on fire. You know you’re blushing, and you might even be grinning like an idiot, but you can’t pull yourself away from his stare. Seungmin bites down on his bottom lip and a smirk slowly tugs at his mouth, and it’s now that you notice how plump and red his lips are.

All you can do is clear your throat and shift in the bar stool, but thankfully, Seungmin still has the reigns. He finishes his drink in one swift movement, and you take one more sip as he rounds the bar. The warmth of his hand on your thigh, you do feel that, but everything else is either numb or pulsing with nervous excitement. He spins you to face him, but his hand doesn’t move—it squeezes as he leans in and whispers in your ear.

“Stop fighting against it…just…” he sighs, and it turns to a soft moan. You feel like you could melt right out of this stool and onto the floor. “Don’t make me beg.”

Fuck, your mind went from nothing to everything you want him to do to you, and everything you’ve been wanting to do to him. But you haven’t done anything yet, and you don’t have to. Seungmin hasn’t come off as that type, but god…the way he’s looking at you and gripping your leg. He gently pushes your thighs apart until he can put himself between them, and your eyes drop to the growing bulge in his sweatpants.

“Seungmin…uh, fuck…um”

“What? Look at me. Eyes up here.”

The ease at which he makes you listen is surprising. He has you now. The smoke-tinged smell of his skin, the vanilla of his cologne, and the sweet smell of booze on his lips. His eyes soften, and you can’t even begin to imagine resisting that look—from here you can see the little bit of black eyeliner starting to smudge. You don’t even feel yourself reach up and wipe your thumb at the corner of his eye, not until he smiles and wraps his fingers around your wrist.

“I’ll take care of you. I’ll give you what you need.”

No answer will come out, so you squeeze your thighs and hope he can read the look in your eyes. He does. Seungmin grabs your hips and pulls your body into his, lifts you, and doesn’t hesitate once he has you in his arms. He turns and takes you right into the bedroom, and the feeling of being outside of your body is intense. You can feel your legs wrapped tight around his hips, and your arms clinging to his shoulders…you can hear his soft grunts as he keeps you steady against him. He pulls you close right before he drops you, and you get a taste of his skin before you hit the bed.

“Keep your eyes on me”

He pulls his shirt over his head, and you study every inch of him while you can. A long, lean torso—his muscles underneath flex with every shallow breath; his bare shoulders—you count every freckle as your eyes move down his arms; his hands grab his waistband and pull, and his cock bounces out, bigger than anything you’ve taken before, and you’re not even sure he’s fully hard yet.

Seungmin laughs at your reaction. “I’m usually a little more subtle…but,” he stops and looks you over, and his voice turns so sweet, “take something off for me. Please.” He’s never this needy, and he doesn’t usually move so fast, but he’s aching for it. Nine days of teasing him was far too long. “Yeah?,” he purrs as you sit up and slide out of your oversized sweatshirt. “Much better….” He strokes himself as he climbs onto the bed.

As soon as your tank top makes it over your head, and your breasts bounce free, you feel your nipples harden even more. Seungmin groans like a horny teenager. “Good…lie back for me.”

The steadiness of his hands is what you expect from him, though. You know he’s experienced, and you know he wants all the control. He unbuttons your skirt and pulls, leaving you in nothing but your panties—you wore cute ones, the lacy ones, just because. Of course you weren’t expecting to get anything tonight, but you’re so glad you did when you see Seungmin smiling at them…but then he snaps out of his trance.

Fuck, he mumbles and moves back. You watch him hop off the bed, and take another chance to admire his naked body, but he doesn't take long getting into his drawer, grabbing something, and returning to you. The condom is out and on him before you even realize what he was doing, and your panties are gripped and pulled down.

"Open up for me," he coaxes your shy legs apart until he has an eyeful of your throbbing, swollen cunt—good—and his tongue slides hungrily into you, making you gasp. "Soaking wet for me already?" Seungmin looks at you for an answer.

You nod and cautiously run your fingers through his hair, and he leans into it before getting back to work, but he just teases you. Licking and sucking just enough to make your hips move against him for more. You relax and enjoy it while you look around the dark room. The curtains are pulled shut, but you can see a little slice of city through the balcony's sliding door. The built-in shelves in the corner are over flowing with books, records, little trinkets you can't quite make out. There’s a bouquet of fresh purple flowers poking out just enough to see. You reach up and slide your hand across a silky pillow, and your fngers close around it.

"Oh…right there," you whine and take another fistful of hair. "Seungmin, god."

He laughs again, takes your words to heart, and doesn't hold back.

Your eyes squeeze shut, and you try hard to keep your body relaxed as he works, but all you want to do is thrust into him, make more fiction…finish…come hard. Seungmin moans and the vibration runs through you.

"Fuck”

He stops, and lifts his mouth off of you completely…

"No…please"

…and he laughs. "Not yet, not yet."

"So mean," you whimper, "why…"

You force your legs closed, but Seungmin doesn't like that. He grabs each knee and spreads you open again, and he slides himself between your thighs until his cock grazes your sensitive clit.

“Relax…” he comes down and bites the skin on your hip.

“I am,” you lie back and look to your left this time; at the desk, the instruments, everything he uses for work. The bedside table is bare except for a lamp, a pair of glasses you’ve never seen him in, and a silver bracelet…it matches the necklace you feel tickling you as he moves his lips up your body. “I am.” Your fingers tangle in his hair as he gets closer and closer to your throat, your neck. He bites down gently, and the pressure as he pushes himself in is so much more than you prepared for. He doesn’t tease—but he does at least take his time. After a few patient movements, he pushes in, and you whine in pain as he moans in pleasure, pulls out, laughs softly as he pushes in. Again and again.

“Fuck, you feel good”

“Slower…slow down,” your own voice echoes in your head, and you don’t feel like you’re all there. But you watched him make your drink, and he didn’t put anything in it. It’s stupid, but maybe it’s just him, and this room.

“Slow down? Oh, I’m hurting you.” He pushes in and stops, “I don’t wanna hurt you, but...you look so good stretched around my cock,” and pulls out carefully, “so wet.”

“You’re not hurting me…”

“I am”

It takes so much restraint, but Seungmin listens to you, and he’s patient as he pumps in and out. Every few strokes, he moves a little faster, and he knows he finally finds a good pace when you whine for him and squeeze his arms.

“Yeah, you like that?” He whispers and you nod, “you take it so well, fuck.”

His gentle affirmations keep you wet, and the sound you make together, the mess of arousal dripping out of you as he works—Seungmin pushes your thighs apart and takes in every little detail.

It does hurt, and it feels so good at the same time. “Please…”

The soft movements of your breasts distract him, and he takes them in his hands and squeezes. The look on his face is dazed, so full of pleasure. So lost.

“…don’t stop.”

"No." He’s not stopping anytime soon, not when it feels this good. “No, I’m not,” Seungmin speeds up, "I'm gonna break you in two," and slams hard into you, and no, he doesn’t stop, even when you cry out in pain. One hand falls down on your mouth, and the other pushes your shoulder into the bed, making you scream out again, but it’s muffled by his palm.

Your hands jump up and squeezes his forearm, and the other scratches at the hand covering your mouth. You can still breathe through your nose, but just barely. Seungmin doesn’t relax, and he doesn’t let up when you grab his side and dig in. Everything goes numb, but your skin prickles with goosebumps. You’re outside of your body again, looking down at the struggle, and the ceaseless pounding of his hips against yours. Every move he makes knocks even more air out of your lungs. Maybe if he comes, he’ll stop, or at least loosen his hand and let more air into your lungs. Time slows down, and lights pop up in your vision. You’re getting dizzy, and your heart was threatening to explode before he attempted to stifle your moans. Your chest starts to burn as you exhaust yourself.

There’s nothing you can do. Seungmin is stronger than he looks. Fingers squeeze into his arms one last time before the feeling disappears, and you think he finishes just as you let the rest of your body relax. Sleeping, that’s what this feels like. Falling asleep…feeling so tired you can’t possibly keep your eyes open any longer. Something in you needs to say his name one last time when the pressure of his hand is finally gone, but so are you.

/ / /

Seungmin can barely hold his body up, because he can’t remember the last time sex felt that good; the last time he came so hard. It takes a moment for enough blood to return to his brain, and for the post-orgasm bliss to subside enough that he can speak, but when he does, he finally realizes how silent you are.

“Hey, sweetheart…look at me,” he runs a soft thumb across your brow, and wipes away a stray tear running down your temple. Seungmin freezes, and the air catches in his throat. “Open your eyes,” he whispers, taps your pink cheek, and caresses it with a softness he isn’t used to giving out. Nothing happens. He pulls at your chin until your lips part to listen for the movement of air. Still nothing. “Fuck.” The shakiness of his voice surprises him. He climbs off of you and collapses onto his pillows, but his eyes don’t leave your still body. “I didn’t. You fucking idiot, you didn’t…” he’s up again and walking on unsteady legs, still weak from the exertion. Back in his sweatpants, Seungmin climbs onto the bed again and straddles your waist. Your cheeks are still flushed, and your lips, also still very alive looking, stay ever so slightly parted. Still, no air passes through them. He knows his own strength, and he prides himself on his control, but sometimes he does lose himself in the moment. But he kept his hands away from your neck. He very specifically forced that on himself, because this wasn’t the plan tonight.

“Hey,” he moves a piece of hair away from your damp forehead, places his lips against yours for the very first time, and he fills your lungs with air. Once…twice. Nothing. He tries one more time, and after, kisses you softly before returning to his spot on his pillows. The puppy plush falls onto his lap, and he grabs it, “you see that, Daengmo?” he says, and points its face toward you, “I still can’t do anything right.”

The first gasp for air feels like nothing—a useless, struggling breath like you’re still trapped underwater, but your eyes somehow open and see nothing but a blue tinted darkness. Hands clench something soft and slick…silky. Still corporeal after death, that’s the only thought you can create. The second breath fills your lungs and you cough it out, hard. So hard you sit up, and he’s there, holding your face, whispering your name. You try to push back, but you don’t think you actually move. Seungmin’s grip tightens on your shoulder, and he lets you fall back on the bed.

“Stay awake for me,” he says.

“No…no, stop”

“I’m not going to hurt you…I promise”

“Seung—” you feel yourself slipping again, and then his hand is on your bare chest, sliding up and down your sternum. It feels good, and you finally feel like you might be alive. “Seungmin?”

“I’m sorry”

And then you’re truly awake. The memory hits you suddenly—the hand caressing you is the same one that was clamped across your mouth. The other pinned you down onto the bed, and you can feel the sore spot where it's going to bruise. You somehow find the strength to move your arms and pull yourself away, but the burning of your thighs, and the leftover pain from the sex makes you shake and collapse.

Seungmin watches quietly as you scramble back up and gather your discarded clothes.

“You need to lay down. Please, get under the covers and get warm.” He finds your sweater, and holds it hostage. “I know I scared you, I'm—"

“Scared me?” Somehow, you manage to find and slip back into your underwear and tank top, but your skirt is nowhere. Why are you even looking for your clothes? You should have been up and running for the door, but your mind is nothing but static.

“No…I mean, what just happened is not what I intended. I lost myself.”

Finally, you go for the door, clothes or no clothes but it’s, unsurprisingly, locked. That’s an unbreakable habit of Seungmin’s. “Please let me go…please.” As much as you want to cry, nothing happens—but your throat tightens and it’s hard to breathe again, so you do the only thing you have left in you—collapse onto the floor and wait. "This can't be happening, not to me...no, everything felt right," you say to yourself, to the door. “Didn’t it?”

“I can't let you leave, I'm sorry.” He hears himself speak so softly, and it sounds as if it's coming from someone else, from somewhere else…not him. “You shouldn’t even be here right now. What’s wrong with me?” He mumbles the last part to himself, but it comes out louder than he intends.

You stare wide-eyed at nothing, forehead against the door, breathing deeply as you do everything you can to not have a full-blown panic attack. The adrenaline is quickly running out. But you hear the rustle of blankets and sheets, and then you sense him getting closer. His fingers close around your shoulders, very cautiously, and he pulls you against his chest.

“I’m going to pick you up, okay? And then I’m going to take you to the bed. That's all."

If there’s something you can do to save yourself, you can’t seem to think of it, so you give in and let him put his arms around you. And he does exactly what he says—places you gently in the spot he prepared a moment ago, and then pulls the blankets over you. He moves back a little bit, and stares. The strong, sweet scent of him is all around you now, but you manage to keep your eyes closed and off of him.

“I’ll be right back, I’ll get you some water”

They remain closed until you hear the lock, the door, and then him locking it again from the outside. He won���t be gone long. You’re up and scanning the floor again, trying to remember if you had your phone in your pocket. No…you left it on the bar, right next to your empty glass. The balcony…you have no clue what you expect to find out here, but you go out and look left, and then right. And then 25 stories down. The closet. It's spacious and neat; tshirts, jackets, shoes. The black and white windbreaker he was wearing when you first met him briefly catches your eye, but you close it quietly and head for his bedside table. You heard him slide the drawer open and shut right before he walked out. Maybe there's something in there.

“Oh…” The inside of it is neat and organized, just like everything else, so you get to see exactly what’s in there with one quick glance: a small knife, concealed in a black sheath, a few small syringes pre-filled with a milky liquid, handcuffs, nylon rope, a gag…"what the fuck"…lubrication, and several more condoms. “This can’t be happening.” A moment later, the lock clicks again, and without thinking, you grab the knife, quietly close the drawer, and climb back under the covers.

There's a bottle of water under his arm, and a mug in his hand. "I am going to drink some of this so you know I didn't put anything in it…and then I would like you to finish it," He takes a long sip before handing it to you, "The water bottle is unopened, don't worry."

Something is different about him. As soon as you woke up, something felt not quite the same. Even his voice, which was so serious, and a little bit solemn before, seems lighter and higher. You stare into the mug and take a deep breath, smelling the chamomile, the spearmint, and the orange. Seungmin finished nearly half of it.

"I'll take another drink," he holds his hand out for it.

"No…" you sip it very cautiously, and then take a longer drink. The taste and the warmth does help, and you finally take a full, deep breath. Seungmin rounds the bed as you sip, and you watch him carefully. If he opens that drawer again, he'll know you have the knife…and unlucky for you, that's exactly what he does. Maybe he heard you. Maybe he can just read it on you.

But he's quiet as he looks, and his expression doesn't change. He just closes it again and sits at the edge of the bed, naked back facing you. You find yourself admiring him again…his neck, his shoulders…stupid. He slides back and relaxes against the pillows, but he keeps a good distance. The bed is big enough for that.

"You have my knife?"

The way he asks isn't accusing. It isn't threatening. It isn't even rude. He asks as if it's just the next part of the conversation. When you don't answer, you see him nod his head from the corner of your eye.

"If it makes you feel safer, you can hold onto it. If you want to use it, I probably won't try to stop you."

"How long are you going to keep me locked in here?"

"I'm not going to let you go home alone in your state, not this late. You can leave in the morning."

"You're lying"

Seungmin sighs and turns on his side, and he looks at you—you look at him directly for the first time since coming back, but you're both silent. Just like his voice, his gaze is softer, and less intense. It’s also full of confusion, like he doesn’t know what to make of you; as if he’s wondering why you’re in his bed right now. His eyes start to close. At the same time, your eyes grow heavy, and it feels just like before. It feels like you can't possibly win against the sleep, and your thoughts wander as you drift; now you'll die, no more waking up.

The sun coming in through the balcony window warms the room. The light slices the bed right in half, and when you open your eyes, the first thing you see is his sleep tangled body—the legs of his sweatpants are pushed up almost to his knees, and his skin glows in the sunlight. He's sound asleep on his stomach for a few more moments, but then he mumbles something that you can't quite make out. A groan, but it's not a good groan. It isn't until right this second that you remember the situation you somehow ended up in. Locked in with him…whatever he is…a murderer? The drawer screams experience, and that experience screams serial killer, but last night didn't seem like an experienced killer. You suppose not every time can be perfect.

What are you even thinking? You pull the covers away and move to sit up, and it's then that you feel the knife, still tucked safely beneath the pillow. So Seungmin didn't sneak over as you slept to retrieve it, because you assume he actually did put something in your tea—something he himself also drank. Both of you fell asleep together, and now you have to wait for him to wake, and hope he meant what he said a few hours ago. No, you idiot. Where did he put the key? It's probably in the pocket of his sweatpants, so you move closer to him as carefully and as quietly as possible.

He doesn't stir. You stare down at his sleeping face as you slip your fingers into his pocket, and again, you admire him—the lips you never got to kiss, soft and pouty. His cheeks, his nose, all perfect and screaming to be touched. Seungmin must hear your thoughts, because his eyes open to you, and his hand clamps down on your wrist. Ice runs through your veins and your stomach drops, but instead of pulling away and retreating to the other side of the bed, you lean forward and press your lips to his, because…you don't know why. But Seungmin kisses back, and he means it—every nibble and lick, every soft moan coming from deep in his chest. You return the intensity, and something about his kiss feels good, but still…

“Oh…right,” Seungmin licks his lip and keeps his chin high, because he knows exactly how sharp his knife is. It grazes his throat, and your shaking hand doesn’t do much to relax him. “How could I forget?”

“Where’s the key?”

“I told you I’d let you leave, I meant it”

“Give me the key.” Now, of course, you can cry. Tears stream down your cheeks, and your hand shakes even more.

“Okay…okay,” he digs in the pocket you were going for, pulls out a leather keychain, and one gold key hangs from it. “Please don’t cry.”

You snatch it, but keep the knife against him until you’re too far away to reach. He doesn’t get up when you do. He doesn’t move when you grab the clothes you finally find on the floor, try the key, and sigh with relief when it works. It’s possible that he finally moves when the door shuts behind you, but you’re dressed and gone before you have a chance to find out.

[sorryimananti-romantic]

saurrr what do we need to do to get that deleted scene??? 👀🤲🏼

beg.

LJHDFJGHKJ KIDDING you asked and i shall serve with not only the deleted scene but two bonus scenes:

from the fic guerrilla (serialkiller!dr.yunho x writer!reader)

wc: 4k

notes: surgeon yunho who just so happens to be a serial killer (a vigilante with morals if you must), reader is a writer working on gory crime fiction novels, they are housemates, fluffy stuff, talks about therapy, questionable morals, honestly very questionable morals, smut at the end (minors and anyone not comfortable with dark themes do not interact with the third section

"oh, you're home. almost didn't hear you," you said when you spotted yunho coming down the stairs. in the past few months, you had learned quite a few habits of his, one being that he could be as silent as a feather at times.

which was a bit scary, but you supposed it was just a natural skill of his.

"of course you didn't. you were humming something while you cooked," yunho stood near the counter, looking around and you muttered a silent curse- no wonder you didn't hear him. "need help?"

"yeah, if you could just set the table," you said and yunho obeyed instantly, taking out the utensils and scooping the dishes while you told him about your day- mail arrived, you befriended a stray cat that has now found home in your backyard, you went shopping for grocery today and got the stuff yunho had requested you to buy for him.

and while you ate, yunho said his thanks for saving him a trip to the grocery store and told you about his day- he went to assist a professor from his previous job in a complicated surgery upon his request. you told him he looked fond of that professor and he admitted that he owed most of his surgery skills to him and he often called him to assist him.

and just like that, you finished your meals and you started clearing the kitchen and washing the dishes while he went to the backyard to bring the laundry inside. it was the weekend and you wondered if yunho would join you in the living room just to hang out or watch something. or would he be too tired and just say goodnight and leave?

he stayed. he slumped down on the couch and took out his phone, probably responding to texts. you silently joined on the other end and turned on your laptop which opened to your document and reminded you of the question that had been looming over your head the entire day. you glanced at yunho but he seemed absorbed in his phone and you sighed- maybe you'll just ask him tomorrow-

"is something the matter?"

he didn't have to be that observant. you straightened. "nothing. just wanted to ask you something related to the book- but it can wait."

"you can ask me, y/n."

"you seem busy and tired, though..." your voice faltered when he shot you with a challenging look.

"never too busy for your weird questions."

"oh," you laughed a little and when he set his phone aside to focus on you, you stifled a satisfactory smile. "okay, so remember what i told you last time? the cop who's also a criminal, he's targeting the main character- the detective now. he finally baits her into entering the abandoned warehouse where she thought she would find some druggies."

"yes, and the warehouse doesn't have much space to run because of the abundance of shelves so when she's looking around, she keeps thinking she's hearing something- which is actually the criminal riling her up and waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike."

"yes," you smiled. "now, he's going to attack, and another unfortunate cop who accompanied our detective is going to get killed by him while trying to protect the detective. so that gets the detective all messed up in her head and she's lost her gun but there's a dagger lying on the floor- remember the dagger i showed you for reference?"

yunho nodded and you continued. "the detective aims to hurt the criminal, not kill, but the lines must be blurred so when she is questioned about her motives, she wonders if she actually intended to kill the man."

"because there's the fact that the criminal is her colleague and that could have worsened her anger. she might have actually wanted to kill him," yunho recalls.

"exactly," you shift in your position so your legs are tucked under you. "now... where would the detective stab him? self defense, anger, confusion, all these elements."

yunho hummed in thought, his eyes running all over your body. something you had noticed that whenever he answered one of your questions, he would envision them on you. that might have made you a flustered mess in the beginning when his eyes would fixate on a spot on your body but it didn't really bother you anymore- you supposed as a surgeon, he got lost in vivid imagination or something.

"there's quite a few ways we could achieve that, but i think if you can narrow it down, it might help."

"somewhere near the heart? throat? something that would disarm the criminal immediately," you said.

yunho nodded slowly, his eyes fixated on your neck now and you subconciously adjusted your shirt. he finally met your eyes. "i think this spot might do the trick."

yunho fisted his hand but outstretched the index finger. "suppose this is the tip of your dagger, right? you would want to stab right here," he turned his hand to touch the space between his collarbones. "this spot is tricky because for males and females, it's not the same."

"oh?" you touched that same spot on yourself. "how so?"

"males usually have a thicker clavicle," yunho explained, stretching the collar of his shirt to expose his collarbones. "the gap between the two may be wider but it's definitely easier to stab a man here than a woman."

you touched your own collarbones for reference in confusion and when yunho had enough of your struggling, he scooted closer and touched the space between your collarbones with his finger. "this part. v-shaped, right? it's a bit straighter for men. so if your criminal was a woman, i'd have you stab them... right here," yunho trailed his finger up and dug it in that spot. you nodded. "the clavicle is a bit narrower in females too," he trailed his finger along your collarbones. "and positioned at a more diagonal angle-"

he didn't realise when he started rambling but when he met your eyes, he found them wider than usual and your lips parted, and only then did he realise the proximity between you two. you gulped and he felt that movement on his finger still situated on your skin and his own lips parted in surprise, his mind going black when your gaze fell down there.

and if that damned phone hadn't buzzed repeatedly, he would have done something about you. he definitely would have, ignoring all his strict rules, because there was no way you didn't feel a certain way about him. he was sure you did, especially now. especially when he drew back to check his phone and heard you let out a deep breath. you had been holding your breath all this time.

"i, uh... i have to take this call," he pursed his lips.

"of course," you nodded.

"i hope that cleared your confusion?" yunho dared to ask and when you stifled a smirk, he got his answer.

-------------------------------------------

[bonus scene that takes place after the big revelation]

it's been a long time since you woke up feeling like there was a weight on your chest, unable to breathe properly, hair matted to your face and your head spinning.

a nightmare. no-

a memory.

you checked the time- it was almost 4. you shook your head- maybe you should have pushed yourself to stay awake until you passed out so you could have a dreamless sleep. you always slept better when you were tired- not the healthiest habit, but that was how you overcame your sleeping struggles as a teen when your father passed away.

would you have to do this all over again?

you managed to walk to the toilet to wash your face, staring at the sink for the longest time and letting the water run through your hands as if it could wash away the weight of what you had done before finally snapping out of it and turning the tap off, exiting the toilet to go to the kitchen. you took a deep breath and sat yourself on a stool in the kitchen, taking small sips from your glass.

you could not go back to sleep now. not anytime soon.

you briefly wondered when yunho got home- was he home yet? lately, you had been going to sleep at odd times so you didn't run into him much, but you couldn't sleep for long- you would always wake up, just like you did tonight. the nightmares were plaguing your rest hours-

the glass slipped from your hand and crashed on the floor loudly, making you squeal a little. you winced at how loud it sounded in the dead hours of the night and you tried to find a spot on the floor that was not covered with shards- how exactly were you going to put your feet on the floor with all the glass around you-

"y/n? is everything okay?"

you sighed internally. "did i wake you up? i'm sorry, the glass just slipped."

yunho turned on a light and surveyed the mess. "stay right there, okay? don't move- i'll get the broom."

you nodded and waited until he started cleaning the shards from around you, making sure he got everything and then running to your room quickly to get your slippers. you thanked him, taking the broom and dustpan from him this time, spotting a tiny shard at the other end of the kitchen.

"were you asleep? did i wake you up?"

"i got home like, an hour ago," yunho said. "was just scrolling a bit. are you okay, though? you look pale."

"yeah, i'm okay," you put the broom in a corner and washed your hands. when you dried them and turned, you noticed yunho watching you intently. "what?"

"did you have a nightmare or something?"

he always knew. somehow, he always saw through you.

"is it that obvious?" you let out a short laugh. "do i look like a mess?"

"i mean..." yunho stifled a smile. "you usually do look like a hot mess..."

"lovely to hear that," you nodded and he grinned, stepping forward and encasing you in his arms as he peered down at you.

"won't you talk to me about it?"

"what's there to talk about?" you cocked your head and yunho's heart sank a little at the way your eyes went blank. "i killed a man, yunho. again. of course i will have to live with the consequences now."

yunho licked his dry lips and he knew you had zoned out at the way your gaze was fixated on his face. "can i ask you something?"

it took you a moment to come back to your senses and nod. yunho took a deep breath. "do you regret killing the man who almost killed your father?"

"everything went wrong after i did that-"

"but if you could go back in time, would you change that?" yunho asked.

"no." you were sure you would make the same decision. "because if i had not done that, he would have killed all of us."

"so... do you regret killing the man from a few days ago?"

"not at all," your response was quick. "he was going to kill you. i would have done the same, no matter who it was."

yunho brought his hand to your cheek and caressed it, his eyes full of love. you continued, "but that doesn't change the fact that i have killed people."

"i know," yunho said. "you will have to live with that for the rest of your life. it won't get easier, it will always hang like a noose over your head. but if you keep all of this to yourself... it will only get harder, y/n."

"i just... i don't know what to do," you exhaled a deep breath, looking away. "i feel so helpless. you've done so much to help me, hell, you almost took the blame for it, but still..."

"all these feelings are normal," yunho took your hand and started guiding you to the couch in the living room. you both settled down close to each other with yunho's hand on your shoulder, his thumb caressing your neck. "but if it's troubling you to the point of nightmares... why didn't you tell me earlier, y/n? if there's anyone who can relate to you..."

"it's you, i know," you smiled a little. "and i'm okay, for the most part, but for a while that night, i really thought it was all over, and that scared me so much, yunho."

"it's okay-"

"it's not the remorse that's eating me up, see?" you let out a short laugh. "it's... the fact that it's not the remorse eating me up but my selfishness when i was scared that you were going to take the blame and i would have to pick up the pieces of what was left all by myself. that your friends would hate me for the rest of our lives. that you would rot away in prison, like my father did, and i would never get to touch you again. it's wrong, isn't it? that this is the product of my nightmares and i don't need to sleep to feel this? does this make me a monster, yunho?"

if yunho could tell you how he felt at that moment, perhaps you would cower away, but he just had to ask you something. "do you still think you're the monster when i'm right in front of you?"

you looked at his unbelievably soft gaze and furrowed, somewhat confused brows. the dim lights from the kitchen softened half of his face, but even the shadows on his face didn't change who he was. you found his hand on your neck and held it, pressing your lips against his palm.

"i have killed more people than i can count, y/n," yunho continued, his voice pained. "but if that means that the world is somehow safer, i will continue down this road no matter how weary i get. does that make me a bad person or a good person? i realised long ago that i needed to stop categorising myself into one category, however... i sure as hell wouldn't call myself a good person," he let out a short laugh and you shook your head.

"if you weren't a good person, you wouldn't have tried to take the blame for me that night. and on that note... what were you thinking when you did that? without hesitation? can you imagine how wrong it could have gone if you got caught at that time-"

yunho leaned in and captured your lips in a deep kiss and thought it took you by surprise initially, you quickly melted in his grasp, your heart fluttering uncontrollably at the way he held and kissed you. when he drew back, he lingered for a few moments before looking at you.

"i would have done that anyway, no matter the consequences," he told you and you smiled sadly. "for you... i would do it again. so will you listen to me? will you let me help you?"

you nodded and he pulled you in for a hug. you scooted closer, almost sitting in his lap as you wrapped your arms around his waist, fisting the material of his sweatshirt.

"i know how hard it is to live with what we have done, no matter how we feel about it or think we feel about it," he caressed your head. "we think we have it all figured out. we think we'll be okay but really... it's still a human life, isn't it?"

you nodded- he was absolutely right.

"i harboured so much negativity in myself when my parents were killed. i thought if i would face their killer, i would not hesitate to kill him, but i did, and it cost me my sanity for a good while. if it weren't for hongjoong and mingi helping me figure out everything that was going on... i would have been so lost. i still think i am- the twisted, monstrous part in me is okay with what i do-"

"please don't call yourself a monster," you whispered. "you're anything but."

yunho embraced you tighter. "thank you for believing in me, but you should also tell yourself that."

and that's when it all made sense, what yunho was trying to tell you. it wasn't okay, it probably never will be, and it never should be. that's what you have to live with, and that's what will ultimately differentiate you from the actual monsters in this world.

"how do i convince myself i'm not the same as them?"

"that's what i'm here for," yunho laughed and you joined, drawing away from him. "but actually... i have a suggestion for you."

and that's how he told you all about mingi, the psychiatrist and the therapist who would never judge you no matter how dark your deepest thoughts and desires were. the person who would be able to understand your situation better than anyone else in this world since he was also a part of what yunho did. and most importantly, the person who wouldn't convince you to be someone you weren't. someone who wouldn't put you high on a pedestal or push you to your lowest. you adored the look on yunho's face when he told you all about his friend and you thought that mingi must be an admirable person if yunho believed in him so much.

and that night, he made a vow to you- he would always be there for you. he would be there to help you with the nightmares because he wished someone was there for him too. he would make sure you get proper sleep, and how couldn't you, if you were in his arms, safe and secure? how couldn't you, if you were showered in kisses before you fell asleep? how couldn't you, if you were enveloped in his scent that felt like home now?

the nightmares wouldn't easily stop but at least you wouldn't feel alone now, and that was all that mattered.

----------------------------

[something romantic but unhinged bc man now that i'm writing guerrilla again i wish i made it even longer LMAO]

[mdni!] [and do not interact if you're not comfortable with dark themes]

"yunho, what if your dark fantasies take over while we're having a moment and you kill me or something?"

yunho almost choked on the last sips of hot chocolate you had made him and he put the cup down on the table before shutting his eyes, inhaling and then opening them to glare at you.

"what stupid book are you reading now, babe?"

you pursed your lips in guilty admission. "you don't need to know that."

it had been a good few months into your relationship with yunho now, and he knew to expect odd questions like these way before that. when you first moved in, the questions had been related to your crime fiction wip but now that you were comfortable with him...

too comfortable, he thought. you couldn't ask something like this while you were seated so casually, defenceless across the couch with your legs in his lap while you used your tablet probably to edit your current draft.

"but do you think it happens? do you have moments like those when you... you know."

"when i what?" yunho smirked. he could play this game.

you immediately knew the mood had changed when his eyes glinted playfully. one thing about yunho was that no matter how strange or ridiculous your questions were, he would always answer.

"i won't judge you, i promise," you laughed a little. "but do you ever want to? or do you think others do?"

"words. i need you to say it out loud," yunho sat back cockily while his hand rested on your thigh, squeezing it almost suggestively.

and you knew it could only go one way from here. one thing about yunho was that no matter how strange or ridiculous your questions were, he would always answer-

practically. whenever he could, practically.

"if you're about to see if you feel like killing me right now, no thanks. and for your information, i can fight back."

"can you?" yunho scoffed.

"i've killed two men."

yunho laughed mockingly at that. "two. such a cute number."

your heart sank at that but you tried to lighten the situation. "okay, yeah, i should probably stop reading stupid books-"

"do you want me to check and see, though?" yunho cocked his head dangerously, removing his hand from your thigh only to hold your hand and pull you closer.

"geez, you really take answering my questions so seriously," you teased. of course he would never hurt you, but the thought of where this could lead to excited you in too many ways and you internally slapped yourself. "i guess i'll find the answer if i live to tell the tale?"

yunho pulled you properly in his lap, one hand stationed across your legs to keep you close to him while the other hand stayed on your neck, his thumb caresseing your adam's apple. you loved putting yunho in this headspace, when his gaze darkened as he thought about all the ways he would mess with you.

"do you know how easy it is to take someone's life if you press this wrong?" yunho pushed your adam's apple with his thumb just a fraction. "even just a little pressure can make it difficult to breathe."

you twisted away from him to put your tablet away and then put your own hand on his neck to feel his adam's apple. you pressed it a little just like he had demonstrated and nodded in understanding.

"it's ironic then, isn't it?" yunho looked up at you. "that some of the most sensitive spots on a human are around there?"

before you could ask him to elaborate, he pulled you closer to kiss you on the side of your neck and you gasped when you realised where this was going. he didn't stop there, though, no. he flipped you effortlessly so your back was flat on the couch and he was on top of you. before you could process anything, he was back to peppering kisses along your neck, planting a rather long one right on your adam's apple before finding your sweet spot and continuing to kiss and suck there.

your back arched in pleasure when one of his hands went to hold your waist but found your bare skin instead, your shirt having ridden up. you squirmed under him, one hand at the nape of his neck. when he was satisfied after earning a loud moan from you, he drew back to admire the bruising mark on your neck.

and then he grinned at your breathless form.

"that was so out of the blue," you laughed.

"i'm nowhere near done though," yunho kissed your temple, trailing his lips down along the angles of your face and then kissing your jaw sweetly. you brought your limp arm up to fist his shirt and crash your lips on his because he should stop teasing you already. yunho smiled into the kiss before responding enthusiastically and you tasted chocolate on his lips which made you hum in satisfaction.

yunho took that as his cue to escalate things further. while he kissed you, he let his hand travel down your body until it reached the waistband of your shorts. he broke the kiss to look at you and make sure you were okay and when you nodded, he pulled them down a bit to slide his hand down and he looked at you in surprise.

"you're soaking wet," he laughed a little. "tell me, which part turned you on?"

you slapped his hand and he laughed louder, pecking your lips and drawing away to lock eyes with you just in time to see your reaction when he slid a finger along your slit. he captured your gasp in another kiss and soon, things got all heated up. the sound of your moans were swallowed in his kisses as he slid two fingers knuckle-deep inside you and started thrusting them, curling them inside to earn loud gasps from you.

"so responsive," he praised, trailing kisses down your neck again and finding another spot to suck at. it was good that you mostly stayed at home, you thought. he had a thing with marking you and you could only imagine how much a hassle it would have been to cover it on a daily basis.

"yunho," you gasped when his thumb started circling your clit. it hadn't even been that long that you started getting more physical but he sure knew all your buttons. "please."

"please what?" he breathed against your adam's apple, reminding you once again how this all started.

"i'm so close," you moaned.

"already?" he tsk-ed, kissing the protruding spot on your neck. "how badly do you want it?"

you cupped his face and kissed him in answer, your tongues colliding in the passionate makeout which only sent another wave of arousal through your body and you shivered against him. he knew you were close so he drew apart and made you rest your head against the cushion again.

"you asked me about my dark fantasies, right?" yunho almost whispered and you nodded, anticipating what was next. "not the darkest fantasy, but a good start- choking."

you frowned- choking was pretty common... no?

"there's a very subtle difference in choking for pain and choking for pleasure," yunho explained, his hand around your neck now, his other hand still rubbing your clit in circles, his fingers pumping inside you slowly. "and sure, choking is common, but sweetheart..."

yunho pressed the sides of your throat for a second experimentally and you gasped. "feel that? see how everything you feel inside you becomes heightened but your senses grow numb?"

"yeah," you breathed, squirming under him- you were almost there. "pleasure."

"and if i pressed like this," he said, gently squeezing from the front- so gently that you almost didn't feel anything. "it would be to kill you. how faint is the line between pain and pleasure, y/n?"

you didn't realise when yunho sped up his fingers thrusting inside you but you were almost out of breath now and when he flicked your clit and provided the friction it needed to get over the edge, right when you could feel your orgasm beginning to wash over you, he leaned in to whisper in your ear-

"do you think i have dark fantasies like that?"

and you almost wouldn't have heard him because he pressed the sides of your throat, choking you right as your orgasm washed over you and your vision darkened, your back arching against him. everything was so heightened- yunho on top of you, his fingers inside you, his hand palming your clit, the other hand squeezing your throat like a choker necklace, his lips on your temple in a kiss, his thighs caging you, but the most heightened of all-

his question, the itch in your brain yet to be scratched. it clouded your thoughts as you took deep breaths to recover from the orgasm, as he kissed you everywhere and drew back to clean his fingers with tissues.

"so..." you breathed. "you won't be answering that, will you?"

he only smirked. "answering it would kill all the fun."

[hazbinhazmeinachokehold]

hi hi! can I please have a hazbin crew x child reader that died really young (7-8) but is super duper sweet and like polite and stuff and they all wonder how the heck this child ended up in hell but don't ask (bc i feel like it might be rude to ask ppl why their in hell lol) and then in a conversation the reader just casually mentions how their a serial killer and would lure people in and then kill them. oneshot preferably but whatever you want

You'd been at the hotel for two months now. Despite that, everyone had basically become parental figures to you. You were very sweet and easy to get along with so it was only natural.

Today you were playing two truths and a lie for the bonding exercise. It was going pretty normal and there had been only a few minor surprises. That was until you spoke.

"Okay so I've been in hell for 3 years, I read in my free time, and I used to kill people when I was alive." You said innocently.

Mostly everyone had a shocked expression on their face besides Alastor and Niffty but that was to be expected.

"It-it has to be to be the last one right?" Charlie said, which earned a few murmurs of agreement.

"I would have to disagree." Alastor spoke up, "I recall you saying you arrived here last year."

You nodded and clapped, "Yes that is correct!" The silence after you spoke was deafening. "...What? I don't do it anymore, even if I did I wouldn't hurt y'all!"

"We... uh- Angel it's your turn now!" Charlie said.

"Oh! I like to do drag, my birthday is September 9th and I am more than a little scared of y/n now."

"Why would you be scared- but Angel, I thought your birthday was April 1st?" You said you were confused.

"Yep."

a/n: sorry this is short I didn't have many ideas.