#me and my brother were once obsessed with the movie
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townslore · 2 years ago
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i dont know why i drew this Dont even attempt asking me
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st4rbwrry · 10 months ago
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i’m watching fast x since i avoided it after seeing the terribly made last film in theaters anddd . . you can tell that they’re trying too hard to be a marvel film. :/
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acid-ixx · 5 months ago
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again &. again masterlist
by the bird and the bee
ft. platonic soft! yandere batfam! x gn! neglected reader
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— TRIGGER WARNINGS !
- emotional neglect, allusions to sexual assault, prostitution & physical abuse, kidnapping, alcohol abuse, drugging, themes of depression, dissociation, vague traumatic events, mentions of murder, other warnings would be added soon.
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— CHAPTERS ! ; 34k+ words
00. — oh, please leave me be.
01. — because you only notice me once i'm out the door.
02. — and you don't even remember my face?
03. — i need a drink, away from everyone.
04. — mors tua, vita mea / your death, my life.
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— DRABBLES ! ; #series: again &. again
dick grayson calling you his baby bird
why now? (yan! damian wayne)
brutus (villain au concept)
brutus: out for blood
what if you were never neglected?
just a taste (yan! conner kent - suggestive)
laughter is the best medicine (yan! dick grayson, jason todd, tim drake, damian wayne)
to you, my greatest passion (non-neglected au-verse)
brutus: both arms cradle you now
bruce finding your graduation picture
how to be a heartbreaker! (yandere harem)
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— ASKS ! ; #series: again &. again
dick's spiral into yandere-ism
leaving gotham, resenting alfred, changing last names
your mysterious identity &. conner being your love interest
dick seeing you as a child & damian's need to be your favorite
damian and his cool, matching bracelets
does dick close the door on you? nah, he doesn't even know you were behind the door
wally west as your love interest
you care now?
conner as your angry, protective bf
jason trying his damn best to be a brother to you
calling bruce by his last name only
calling alfred your dad ft. jealous bruce
how are damian and jason obsessed towards you
their nicknames for you
how bruce and damian would try to bond with you
will you still go to college after being kidnapped?
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— INCORRECT QUOTES ! ; #a&a: incorrect quotes
yan! villains kidnapping you
hostage situation
how to become a target to the wayne family
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— FANART ! ; #a&a: fanart
happy birthday by @luffyadolover
diary by @luffyadolover
another reason they're broke &. finished art by @oh-nowo-i-got-uwu
a take on the reader's appearance by @luffyadolover
reader trying to study ft. the batfam's endless calls &. finished art by @ghostdoodlen
reader finding bruce and damian watching a movie by @luffyadolover
again &. again mv by @luffyadolover
reader and their playlist by @luffyadolover
a comic panel by @lucioleestolie
conner and reader flying through the skies by @ghostdoodlen
when all of a sudden, i hear this agitating noise by @punpunsonny
villain au reader by @lazyemmy
a&a oc: emile by @questionthegrapevine
graduation pic, conner comfort, and mirrors by @ghostdoodlen
neglected &. non-neglected reader by @lazyemmy
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— TAGLIST ! ; taglist is closed!
@.lilyalone, @.secretomelettetroops, @.earlqurl, @.simpingfor-wakasa, @.amber-content, @.ruiroku, @.okaybutfullhomo, @.trasshy-artist, @.obsessedwithromance, @.jjsmeowthie, @.fairy-lenaa, @.ilovvmyhusband, @.6uuyuuhgy, @.plsfckmedxddy, @.lavender-moony, @.sweetheart-era, @.chemicalsandghosts, @.darling006, @.starringyau, @.samanthahanes, @.rosecentury, @.jaythes1mp, @.pi1nkl0ver, @.i-thirsty-boy, @.sharks-are-cool-l, @.silverklaus, @.samanthathanes, @.traumaramacenter, @.maddimoon, @.anxrq, @.thedarknesslord, @.h0rr0r-10ver-69, @.lazy-idate, @.cupids-pretty-boy, @.alishii, @.mel-star636, @.sitepathos, @.freakyotaku059-blog, @.dirtydiavolo, @.sunbleachedantlers, @.24hrsoflanii, @.ceramic-raven, @.une-lueur-dans-la-nuit, @.tdickensstuff4, @.thickerthanthieves, @.arlandvery, @.distressed-lezbo, @.bunbunboysworld, @.bellethesleepypotato, @.naina326, @.nebuluma, @.alliwantisadonut, @.alishii, @.kusakiguzen, @.sirenetheblogger, @.emmbny, @.ryukyuin, @.solkara, @.starsdotalk
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judyvan · 1 month ago
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7 Days - Chris Sturniolo Fanfic ("No Hands" Extension)
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。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★。・:*:・゚☆。。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★。・:*:・゚☆
Summary: Over the next 7 days, Chris made sure to use his reward whenever he got the chance. After winning the bet, his hands had seemed to gravitate towards your body. He would caress, kiss, and hold you more than normal, if that were even possible. In the 7 days that he could do whatever he wanted, you felt nothing shy of love, lust, and exhilaration. You were considering making the deal a permanent thing.
Warnings: MDNI/ smut/ chrisxfem!reader/ bf!chris/ sexually suggestive content/ touchy!chris x needy!reader/ slightly obsessive! chris/ fingering/ use of "you"/ PDA/ couldn't tell ya how many words
A/N: This is an extension of my fanfic "No Hands." To understand the context of this fic, check this one out. This has a lot of words, because there are 7 days' worth of blurbs in this fic, given the title. I am still new to writing, so bear with me. Interactions are appreciated! Pls don't steal my shit. Thx! 💋
Shoutout to @twirler2009 for this super sexy suggestion.
。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★。・:*:・゚☆。。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★。・:*:・゚☆
Day 1
Nick, Matt, and Chris had left the house to film a video. Their parents would be coming to visit from Boston the next day. You decide to get a head start on cleaning while no one else was in the house. You do the dishes, wipe off all the surfaces, sweep and mop the floors, and do some laundry. The scent of cleaning supplies, laundry detergent, and a freshly lit candle fill the air. The boys arrive back home and take in the look of the house.
"It looks great in here!" Nick says in awe.
"Wow. Thank you for cleaning. Normally I have to do all the work," Matt says, shooting you a smile.
"Oh, shut up, Matt," Nick and Chris say in unison.
Chris immediately approaches you. He takes you into his arms, lifts you up, and spins you around. Once your feet hit the floor, his hands meet your face, and his lips find yours. He kisses you long and deep, sliding his tongue into your mouth. Chris normally touches you in front of his brothers, but he's never kissed you around them like this. It’s clear he’s going to make the most out of this deal.
"Umm. HELLO, Chris! Me and Matt are still standing here," Nick says waving his hands, trying to capture Chris' attention. Matt looks down at his feet. The two of them don't know how to react to seeing Chris swap spit with you.
Despite Nick's attempt to stop your kiss, Chris doesn't move away from you until he wants to. He prolongs the kiss for a few more moments.
"Thank you so much for cleaning. You didn't have to do that," he says, placing a final peck to your lips.
"We get it Chris! You and your girlfriend kiss. Now can we please stop before I actually throw up. Thanks!" Nick says covering his eyes and walking out of the room.
You, Chris, and Matt giggle as Matt follows Nick out of the room.
"I'm going to go take a shower, then we can watch a movie or something," Chris says leaning in to kiss you again.
"Oh yeah? Just like how we watched a movie yesterday, right?" you say, flicking up an eyebrow and kissing him back. Just remembering his mouth touching you where his hands couldn’t, causes your skin to break out in goosebumps.
"I mean, I'm down for that too," Chris says, winking at you.
He picks you up and you wrap your legs around his torso as he carries you to his bedroom. Chris sits you down gently on his bed. After grabbing some clothes, your boyfriend approaches you. His eyes scan your face. When his gaze lands on your lips, his tongue skims across his own. He just couldn’t get enough. The two of you are never going to be able to get anything done with this constant need for physical contact. He tilts his face towards yours, missing the warmth of your lips and the sweet flavor that accompanies them. You avoid his lips and softly peck the tip of his nose.
"Go take a shower, Chris," you say.
Chris grabs your chin and pulls you towards his face.
"Only after you kiss me," he says, pressing his lips into yours tenderly.
You practically melt into Chris as he draws out the kiss. Every movement that his mouth makes is very thought out, wanting to savor your taste and touch while he leaves you to take a shower.
。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★。・:*:・゚☆。。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★。・:*:・゚☆
Day 2
While Matt and Nick go to the airport to pick up their parents, Jimmy and Mary Lou, you and Chris go to the store to pick up some materials before they close. Mary Lou had sent you a grocery list because she planned on using a family recipe to make dinner the next day.
While walking throughout the aisles at the store, Chris insisted that the both of you push the cart together. Your hands wrapped around the bar of the cart, and Chris' rested on top of yours. Chris stayed behind you, sandwiching you in between the cart and himself. He pressed his body against yours as the two of you searched for the items on the list. Chris lifted one of his hands and moved all of your hair to one side. He put his hand back in its place and began to kiss your neck.
“Chris,” you gasp. “We are in public.”
Chris’ lips move to your ear as he tightens his grip on your hands.
“I won fair and square. Remember?” he whispers. You can tell he has a grin on his face by the tone in his voice. His lips then reconnect with your neck, biting down and sucking gently.
Eventually, Chris moves your hair again and switches sides. Your mouth had fallen open, your heart was pounding, your mind was fuzzy, and your knees were weak. You grip onto the cart tighter, needing stability. The feeling of him devouring your skin made you stop in your track's multiple times. Chris kept pushing forward, forcing you to continue walking. Now that you’re unable to think clearly, Chris has to guide the cart down the correct aisles. He only glances up with his eyes to navigate, his mouth never leaving you. By the time you reach the register, your neck is flushed all over and Chris' lips are swollen.
“Did you guys find everything alright?” the cashier asks as Chris throws the items onto the conveyor belt.
“Yes, we did,” Chris says, slowly looking at you with a smug look on his face. The sight of you all hot and bothered along with the markings on your neck suddenly remind him of something.
“Oh, wait! Do you guys sell condoms?”
You shoot Chris a look, silently telling him to shut his mouth.
“What?” he says, confused by the look on your face. “We used the last one last night…I know you remember,” he smiles at you cockily, clearly proud of his performance after he got out of the shower.
You shove your elbow into his ribs.
“Chris!?”
“Umm… yeah. There should be some like 4 rows to your left,” the cashier replies, his eyes looking between you and your boyfriend.
“Okay. You stay here and I’ll go grab those,” Chris says, placing a kiss on your forehead and shooting finger guns at you before running off.
“I’m sorry about him,” you say to the cashier as he scans your items.
“Don’t worry about it. What’re you guys making?” he replies, changing the conversation topic.
“Lasagna.”
“Is it date night?”
“No, his parents are coming in town. His mom is going to cook a family recipe tomorrow night.”
“Ahh. I gotcha,” the cashier says as he scans the last few items.
You see Chris returning with a bottle of Pepsi and two packs of condoms in his hands. He places the items on the conveyor belt.
“Hey. Thanks man,” Chris says shooting the cashier a smile.
“No problem.”
Chris turns his attention towards you, his expression full of enthusiasm, as he points to the second box of condoms.
“Look what I found! I literally thought flavored condoms were like a figment of my imagination but turns out they’re very much real. We have to try them. Do a little taste test. You know?”
There is simply no other way for you to react to Chris’ excitement than to palm your face and slowly shake your head. The cashier lets out a chuckle as he puts the last few things in a bag. Chris pays the cashier while you load the bags in the cart.
“You guys have a great night,” the cashier says with a smile on his face.
“Oh trust me, we will,” Chris says smirking at him as he places you in between himself and the cart once again.
。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★。・:*:・゚☆。。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★。・:*:・゚☆
Day 3
The smell of lasagna and garlic bread makes your mouth water as Mary Lou finishes cooking. Everyone floods into the kitchen and a line is formed. The food is set up buffet style. Whenever you and Chris get to the front of the line, he fixes your plate of food first and then makes his own once you’re satisfied. The two of you then walk to the dining room to join everyone else. Chris sits both of your plates down on the table. He then pulls his own chair out and immediately sits down. You look at him and furrow your brow. Chris always pulls your chair out for you, and you start to wonder why he didn’t this time. As soon as you begin to reach for the top of your chair, you feel Chris’ arm sneak around your thigh.
“What’re you doing?” he questions, staring up at you with “innocent” eyes.
You look up confused and everyone else seems to do the same. Chris then stretches his legs out.
“I want you to sit with me.”
“Chris there’s a seat right be-fucking-side you,” Nick says clearly confused.
“That seat’s taken,” Chris says nodding his head towards the completely empty chair. “This one isn’t.”
Chris nods his head downward and opens his legs even wider, dusting off his thighs. He moves his arm to your waist and gently pulls you onto his lap. He then picks up his fork and starts to eat nonchalantly. Everyone else has halted, all looking around slightly puzzled.
“Chris, why don’t you just let her sit in her own chair?” Jimmy asks, genuinely wanting to know the reasoning.
“Because she insists on going to her own house tomorrow so me, Matt, and Nick can spend some time with you guys one on one.”
“You’re more than welcome to join us,” Mary Lou says, smiling at you.
“I really appreciate it, but I think we can go a day without seeing each other,” you laugh gesturing at Chris with your eyes.
“How much do you want to bet it won’t even last an entire day?” Matt asks giggling.
Chris rubs small circles over your thigh with his thumb while everyone gambles. The stakes get higher and higher. Everyone looks to you, waiting to hear your response.
“I would love to bet all the money that I have; but I’m not very good at winning bets,” you say, shifting in Chris' lap and giving him a smirk. There's a stiffness that begins to form underneath of you. A soft peck is placed on your shoulder as Chris begins to gently squeeze your inner thigh, desperately trying to control himself.
。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★。・:*:・゚☆。。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★。・:*:・゚☆
Day 4
The next morning, Chris wants to stay in bed a little longer than normal, not wanting you to go back to your house. He holds you close hoping to keep you that way forever. As you say your goodbyes to everyone, Chris is right on your heels. While talking to Jimmy, Chris slides in between the two of you, hugging you tightly. You have to look over his shoulder to continue the conversation, as if nothing happened. After a few minutes, he releases his tight grip and lazily slumps his body against yours. You finish your conversation with Jimmy and begin to step towards Nick and Matt. Chris interlocks his fingers with yours, holding your hand as you walk a singular foot. He sits on the arm of the couch and pulls your body against his while you talk. Finally, you chat with Mary Lou. As your conversation continues, Chris hugs you from behind and places gentle kisses to the top of your head.
"Okay, Chris. I get that your upset, but can you please release her from your grasp for 3 fucking seconds?" Nick asks.
"Oh, Nick be nice. I think it's sweet," Mary Lou states, showing Chris a small smile.
"Mom, you may think it's cute now, but you don't realize that this is an every single day occurance," Matt chimes in, backing Nick up.
Chris walks you to the door after you say a final goodbye to everyone. He wraps his arms around you, burying his face into your neck. He gently grabs your chin and places a longing kiss to your lips.
"I love you," he somehow manages to mutter.
"I'll see you, tomorrow. I love you," you say before walking out of the door. Despite your words, you knew that your night would end with you asleep in Chris' bed.
You sat at your house for hours, bored out of your mind. There was no Chris to keep you entertained. You could detect the feeling of your skin being left untouched. His text messages could only do so much.
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You willingly take an Uber to Chris' house, not wanting him to see your car there, hoping to prank him. You sit on the edge of his bed, waiting for him to arrive. Eventually, the front door creaks open and Chris calls your name. The sound of 3 pairs of footsteps head towards your direction and you can hear Chris, Nick, and Matt talking.
"Chris she isn't here," Matt says.
"Yes, she is."
"Chris you are fucking insane," Nick replies.
Suddenly the door busts open and the three men enter the room. Matt and Nick's eyes grow wide when they see you.
"I knew it," Chris says, a huge grin taking over his face. "Get your ass over here."
You slowly start to walk towards Chris. He speeds up the process by grabbing your arm and yanking you towards him. His hands slide under your pajama shorts and squeeze your ass roughly as he hungrily kisses your lips. He seems like he's been starved for attention.
"That is disgusting. Let's get the fuck out of here," Nick says pushing Matt out of the room before stepping out himself, slamming the door behind him.
。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★。・:*:・゚☆。。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★。・:*:・゚☆
Day 5
You feel something brush across your collarbone. Then something touches your jaw. Now your cheek. There's pressure on your lips.
You flick your eyes open and see Chris on top of you, peppering you with kisses to wake you up.
"Goodmorning," he says continuing to kiss your body. "Nick and Matt left so we get to spend the morning together."
"Okay," you say, smiling up at Chris.
You softly kiss his lips before he turns over. He pulls you on top of him and you nuzzle up to him quickly.
His hand gently massages your head, and your hand runs up and down his abs.
His hand draws patterns on your back while you twirl his hair around your finger.
Your thumb grazes across his stubble while his fingers slide back and forth in the waistband of your shorts.
The two of you stay in bed for hours, soaking in the presence of each other as you touch one another in any way that you can.
。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★。・:*:・゚☆。。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★。・:*:・゚☆
Day 6
Chris asks if Nick and Matt will have a game night with you two. After lots and lots of convincing, they finally agreed. Chris had his heart set on Twister, for whatever reason. Matt chooses to hold the spinner for the first round while you, Chris, and Nick play.
“Alright guys, left foot on blue,” Matt says.
The game doesn’t go smoothly for very long. After just a few more directions, you, Chris, and Nick are all intertwined with each other.
“Right hand green.”
As you reach for the green dot, you slip, pulling Chris down with you.
“Nick wins,” Matt says laughing at the flailing limbs on the ground.
“Yes! Give me that fucking spinner,” Nick replies, snatching it out of Matt’s grasp.
You, Chris, and Matt prepare to take your turn.
“Right foot red,” Nick says, starting the three of you off.
After a few more rotations, Matt falls on his elbow, leaving just you and Chris. He gives you a competitive sneer.
“Left hand yellow.”
You are now on all fours with you head under Chris’ torso. He is straddling your body with both of his hands on the left side of your hip.
“Right hand red.”
You move your hand and your back arches as you stretch to reach the circle. Your head is now directly between Chris' kneecaps. As Chris moves his hand, his face is placed right at the top of your arch, staring directly at your ass.
“Hey, maybe we should try this position tonight,” Chris jokes.
Matt’s eyes go wide and Nick screams.
“WHATTTTT?! Christopher you are fucking sick. I am not playing this game with you anymore. You need help and now SO DO I,” Nick says, dropping the spinner. Matt starts to make his way out of the room and Nick follows right behind him.
Chris hits the floor as he begins to laugh, rolling onto his back.
“I win,” you say, straddling him before leaning down to meet his lips.
。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★。・:*:・゚☆。。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★。・:*:・゚☆
Day 7
You and Chris had planned to meet your friends at the movies. You were really liking how touchy Chris was being, given his reward. It is for sure that you didn't want him to stop anytime soon, even though this would mark 7 days of you losing the bet. To ensure that Chris would be extra touchy, you decide to wear a more revealing outfit; a low hanging top with the tiniest jean skirt that you own. You meet Chris in the living room. When you enter the room, you find him sitting on the couch, his phone in his hand. The sound of your heeled shoes grabs his attention but doesn't hold it for long. You give him a spin and his jaw hits the ground.
"I am so glad I won this bet. There is no way I would've survived if you decided to dress like that and wouldn't let me touch you."
You can practically see the drool coming out of his mouth.
"Well, what are you waiting for then?" you question, walking over to him, coming to a stop between his legs. He looks up at you from his seated position. You can see the want in his eyes. He slides both of his hands under the back of your skirt. Your thong didn't cover much. Chris gently squeezes your, almost completely bare, ass under your skirt. He throws his head back as he swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. He brings his head back forward and rests his forehead on your stomach.
"You know what? Maybe we should just stay home," Chris suggests.
You pick his head up by sliding your finger under his chin, forcing him to look into your eyes.
"No. We can't do that. Our friends are waiting on us," you say seductively, gently pulling down his lower lip with your thumb.
You begin to slowly back away from him and walk towards the door, dramatically swaying your hips. You pull out some lip gloss from your bag, purposefully dropping it on the floor.
"Come on, Chris."
You turn to look at him before bending over to retrieve your lip gloss, revealing the thong underneath of your skirt. You stay in that position until Chris makes his way over to you. As he smacks your ass, you stand up, leading him out of the door.
"You just wait until we get back home," he says with trouble written all over his face.
Before heading into the theater, you make sure to grab a blanket from your car, knowing that your legs will get cold. Chris places his hand in your back pocket as the two of you walk to meet up with your friends. You hit up the snack bar, grabbing some popcorn and two Pepsis. As the group files into the theater, Chris makes sure that the two of you go first. He wants you to sit in the end seat. You sit down, draping the blanket over your legs. The two of you chat with your friends while you wait for the movie to start. Eventually the lights dim, and everything goes quiet.
Throughout the entire movie, you are desperately trying to get Chris' attention. You begin to slide your leg up and down Chris'. You can see him trying to keep his composure. You then glide your hand onto his thigh, rubbing it gently. He wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into him. You remove your hand from Chris' leg and grab some popcorn. You can see Chris turn to you from the corner of your eye. You need him. Bad. You begin to eat the popcorn gradually, piece by piece. You provocatively take the popcorn into your mouth, pulling in each piece carefully with your tongue. You look at Chris, making eye contact. After the last few pieces slide into your mouth, you slowly take your fingers into your mouth, one by one. After licking the mixture of butter and salt off of each finger, painfully slow, you let your tongue graze across your lips and release a soft hum. You place your hand back on Chris' thigh and face the big screen once again. Chris' eyes are still fixated on you. You trail your hand up his leg, getting closer and closer to his dick. You barely graze over it with your pinky. Chris pulls you even further into him.
"What're you doing?" he murmurs.
"Nothing," your eyes never leave the screen.
"You look too good to be doing this right now," he says kissing your temple tenderly.
"You think I look good?" you ask, turning to finally look at him.
"Without a doubt."
You lean into Chris' ear, letting them rest of your fingers meet your pinky.
"And what're you going to do about that?" you question, pulling away from his ear.
"Take the fucking popcorn," Chris mutters lowly, pushing the bucket into your hands.
He slides his hand under your blanket, immediately feeling the wetness pool between your legs. Without hesitation, he moves your thong to the side and dips his fingers into you, curling them right into you G spot. You walls pull him in and you start to squeeze your legs together, searching for more pressure. You grip onto the popcorn bucket, shoving some into your mouth to drown out the sounds of your whimpers. You begin to squirm around in your seat slightly. Chris speeds up his pace, pumping his fingers in and out of you. You start to bounce one of your feet up and down. You take one hand off of the popcorn bucket and grasp onto the arm of your chair, squeezing tightly as you feel your insides tighten. Luckily, a joke was just made in the movie, earning a laugh from the crowd. You were discreetly able to let out a low moan as you came onto Chris' fingers. He pulled them out of you and grabbed some popcorn out of the bucket. He watched you catch your breath as the buzz died down. He then tossed the pieces of popcorn into his mouth, making sure to lick the remnants of you off of his fingers after he was done. He shakes his head as his tongue pokes against his cheek, a scoff falling from his lips.
"Just wait 'til we get fucking home."
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theorphicangel · 9 months ago
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“𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐜𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬?” | 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
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synopsis: you have a valentine’s date tomorrow and you’re somewhat excited for it. but there’s just one thing you’re unsure about…thankfully your trusted roommate can help. right?
tags: roommate au! (Here we go again), smut, 18+, oral (m.receiving), blowjob, praise, mutual pining, these mfs are in DENIAL smh
PART ONE.
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“You have a valentine’s date?”
“God, O’Hara don’t even try to hide the surprise in your voice, why don’t you.”
You cross your arms, frowning at your roommate who was currently sitting next to you on the couch. The two of you were watching a remake of a new movie that had come out recently. An hour or so had passed, the both of you stuck within a comfortable silence before your words had distracted him.
“How could you blame me?” He begins, his gaze still on the television screen. “I’ve never seen you bring anyone home before.”
“So you keep notice on who I bring home?”
A pause runs between the two of you.
“No.”
“Liar.”
Miguel clears his throat. “It’s none of my business anyways, what you do.”
After a few beats of silence, Miguel speaks again, this time with a teasing tone. “I wouldn’t want to be like you anyways, keeping track of who I sleep with.”
“I do not keep track!” you exclaimed.
“How come you remembered Cindy’s name then?”
You hesitate, stuttering off. “You–you talk about her a lot.”
“Bullshit.” A grin creeps up across his lips.
“You jerk, I was gonna ask you for a favor but since you wanna play that game, nevermind.” You crossed your arms, turning your attention back to the screen. Simultaneously, you had just sparked off Miguel’s own curiosity.
“What’s the favor?”
“I don’t want to ask you anymore, I’ll ask someone else.”
“Like who? Peter?”
“Don’t be mean, mig’.”
The movie continues to play in the background for a minute or two before Miguel starts getting restless.
“So who's the guy then? Someone you paid?” Miguel’s grin doesn’t have the time to stretch across his lips this time as you throw a pillow to his face.
“Hey!”
“Watch your mouth, O’hara.”
The two of you had been roommates for just under a year. You had moved in due to an emergency situation. A few troubles with your finances, student loans and the loss of your job resulted in you desperately responding to a roommate advert posted on the internet. Moving in at the beginning was awkward, the two of you avoiding each other, minimal conversation revolving around the weather and who would take out the trash.
But all it took was one night for the both of you to open up to each other, a shift in your realization that Miguel wasn’t as bad as you thought. A few too many drinks one night led you to learn a lot about each other. Like how he didn’t like the dark yet had a weird obsession with space. You found that he had a brother, a few years younger than him who was almost a spitting image. For him, he learned how you once had wanted to be a painter but soon switched career paths to psychology as well as taking up a foreign language.
Ever since that night, you’ve managed to maintain a good friendship with Miguel, completed with a little teasing here and there. On some nights, when you were left alone in your room, you laid back and stared at the ceiling, thinking about him. Particularly, thinking about him and the girls which he brought home. Your mind wandered to the possibilities of what he would be like with them. Imagining what it would be like to be in their position.
How would he touch you, feel you, look at you? Would he be gentle and take his time or does he rush, his passion taking over his whole body? It was questions like these that plagued your mind. You began to create a fantasy in your head, touching yourself at the thought of him touching you; imagining his movements to be slow and cautious, taking you all for himself.
Speaking of, you’ve recently noticed his lack of…visitors lately. Instead of hiding away with them in his room, he’s recently been spending a lot of late nights in your company.
“What’s your plans for Valentine's Day?” you queried, trying to maintain a casual tone. “Taking Cindy out for a romantic dinner?”
Miguel scoffs, shaking his head a little. “Why don’t you ask her out yourself, since you’re so obsessed with the woman?”
A small wave of ease flows through your mind at his answer. Yet it wasn’t exactly the answer you wanted. You pat Miguel on the chest mockingly.
“I knew she said no to you. If you ever want to talk about it, I’m here you kno—” Unfortunately you weren’t able to finish your sentence as a small scream left your mouth, as Miguel pinched your thigh.
“Watch it, imbécil.” he glared, before changing the topic. “But I’m serious, who's the poor guy then?”
You shoot an offended glare back before repositioning yourself on the couch, turning your body to face him properly.
“Someone asked me from work.”
“And you didn’t have to get on your knees and beg them first?” Playfully, you hit him on the arm and he lets out a fake wince of pain.
“Shut up. And no, for your information, I didn’t.”
Miguel hums, his eyes quickly glancing back to the television screen as he tries his best to ignore the sinking feeling of disappointment in his lower abdomen. Guess he should cancel tomorrow then.
“But I had a favor to ask you.” you turn your body, shifting your position to face him. Miguel merely raises a brow, humming deeply again with his eyes still glued on the screen.
“I was wondering if you’d…show me how to—uhhh how do I put this? Suck someone off.”
Miguel froze. Oh, now you had his attention.
“¿Qué?”
You freeze, clearing your throat as his eyes snap back to you. “I mean it was just a suggestion– I-I’ve watched a few videos but I’m still kinda—I just— I mean, I don’t–”
“You don’t know how to give a blowjob?”
It was a bit more blunt than you had wanted to put it but…yes.
You nodded silently, now choosing to avoid eye contact. “I just wanted some tips, y’know? What do guys generally like? I’ve read that some like it differently than others so…”
“Why are you asking me?”
Ah yes, the million dollar question. Why were you asking your hot ass roommate for blowjob tips? You had the choice to ask anyone: your best friend, or another friend or even a random stranger on the internet. Why him?
“You’re…experienced.” was all that you could come up with. “And not in a bad way!” You quickly correct. “ but I can assume you’ve had your good shares of…that.”
Miguel raises a brow again, swallowing thickly. Anxiety was now bubbling at the base of his stomach. You were asking him how to please a man and immediately his mind jumped at the thought of you with your valentine’s date at the end of the night. Ah, you were asking for your date.
“Well, did you just want tips or did you…” he trails off without finishing the sentence, thinking how weird it would be to finish the sentence that had popped up in his mind.
“ ‘Or did I’ what?” You repeat, tilting your head ever so innocently.
“Or did you want to practice on me?”
/
And that’s how you got here. Kneeling on the floor between the thighs of your very own roommate whom you have only known for less than a year. Was this what you were expecting when asking for advice? Of course not. But there was a sense of excitement that grew in the pit of your stomach and you weren’t going to complain about it.
“So how do I start?” You glance up at Miguel, your eyes wide with innocence and curiosity to learn. Just from the way that you looked at him, he was already beginning to get hard.
“Well, you just start.”
You roll your eyes, “Okay, doofus. So you expect me to just get into it? No foreplay or anything?”
“There’ll probably be some foreplay with your date and stuff but…we don’t have to do that.”
For a split second there’s an aura of hesitation between the two of you; him regretting his last words and you almost wanting to reject his assumption. Mutually, there’s a little voice inside of you that tempts you both to take the chance and do this properly.
But of course, this was a lesson.
A mere, innocent favor from a roommate. With no strings attached. Or feelings for that matter.
Even if it killed you both to suppress them.
You nod silently, taking mental notes. Miguel raised his hips a little to pull down his sweatpants, enough so that you could access him with ease. Now you’re starting to get nervous. Your heart was palpitating so much that you could hear your own heartbeat thump in your ears. “I-”
“If you don’t want to, we can stop.” He quips quickly, noticing your hesitation.
You pause, reflecting for the final time whether or not you wanted to do it. Once you made your decision, you glanced up at Miguel.
“It’s not like I have much time left to practice, right?”
Miguel raises a brow. After all, Valentine's day was tomorrow so you needed all the practice that you could get. “If you’re sure.”
“I’m sure.” you vocalized, trying to sound more confident in this way.
“Okay, lemme just–” Miguel mumbled to himself as tugs down his boxers. You noticed the way the bottom of his shirt hiked up a little, presenting his happy trail; a dark bush of hair leading all the way down to his…
Oh.
It’s big. Bigger than you thought. And he’s not even hard yet.
Miguel seethes a little, his cock only semi-hard. He pumps himself a few times before removing his hand, leaving it up to you. His arms now rest on the back edge of the couch, widening his thighs a little more for accessibility.
‘Holy shit’, you think to yourself, how the fuck were you supposed to deal with this?
Miguel caught onto your expression, panic drawn all over your face. “We can–”
“No.” you interrupt him, reading his apprehension too. His concern for you is more than obvious. “I want to.”
Miguel chuckles a little, “I was going to suggest to take it slow but yeah, if you’re still up for it.”
You swallow thickly, edging nearer before planting your hands on his thighs. This is so alien to you. After many months of tiptoeing around him at a distance, it was scary how fast you found yourself in a position of intimacy with him.
Sure, many times before have you fantasized about what it would be like to get close to him. With the sounds of moans coming from his bedroom late at night, it wasn’t hard for you to figure out how much of a woman pleaser he was.
Slowly, your hand wraps around his cock, feeling him get harder and harder with every second that passes. You think back to the videos that you had watched previous to this, noticing that most of the women decide to give a few strokes before going in with their mouth. You imitate them easily, watching your hand move.
You take in every fine detail: every vein, every twitch, every shade leading from the tip to the base. The crown of his cock is thick, becoming redder with every stroke as juices of pre-cum subtly spilling away.
“Jus’ like that.” Miguel murmurs and you notice how his tone is a little lighter than before. “When you’re ready, you can lick the tip a little, warm yourself up to it.”
You hum in response. You can’t bring yourself to look at him, not yet at least.
Once again, you think back to the porn videos you had watched, imitating the women by tracing little circles across the tip of his dick. Miguel lets out a drawn out groan and little by little you can feel his body relax as you continue on. It tastes salty. The tip of his cock is reddened and soft.
For a minute or two you continue to trace circles, closing your eyes in the moment, allowing yourself to relax and get rid of any nerves or doubt. Miguel says nothing more, his teeth softly biting down on his lower lip, he watches as you hesitate, unsure of how to continue from here.
Miguel’s hand soon reaches for your chin, causing you to pause and tilt your head up towards him. His hand cups right under your lips and your face turns to confusion for a split second before he lets out his command.
“Spit.”
For some reason, your body listens to him without a second thought.
“It’s okay if it gets messy,” he advises, “the messier the better.”
You make a mental note of that.
You make sure to be careful with your teeth as your lips part around his cock. Once again you take it slow, letting your mouth adjust to his size. He’s bigger and thicker than you had expected, barely halfway before he already fills up your mouth. Your eyes water as you attempt to take him whole, a decision which you realize quickly was too hasty as you reach your gag reflex.
“Hey, hey, hey, don’t– mierda!” Miguel sits up a little, trying to pace you. Your eyes water and saliva continues to pool out of your mouth, dripping down to his balls. Your cheeks are full of his cock and as if following his instincts, Miguel almost wants to hold your head there. It takes all of his resilience not to place his hand at the back of your head. He let out a grunt at the warmth of your mouth, coaxing him to stay a little longer. But unfortunately if he does, then he may cum sooner rather than later.
You feel his fingers tap your shoulder, “Hey–” he manages to draw out, “brea–breathe through your nose.” You attempt to do so, just letting off a few inches of his dick, letting your hand stroke whatever you can’t take. With you, you can build up a pace more freely, bobbing your head up and down. You close your eyes, concentrating on keeping your rhythm, a steady pace for now.
Fuck it, Miguel gives into his instincts, letting a hand cup the back of your head ever so lightly.
“Fuck, keep going… you’re doing so well.”
Miguel’s praises boost your confidence, the simple phrase removing past doubts that had cast over you. You pause to allow yourself to breathe, your hand stroking his length in the meanwhile and Miguel seems to cup your chin again.
“Mírame.”
One simple order and he has you hooked and, god, you have a gorgeous view.
His dark brows are deeply furrowed. Chest rising and falling heavily, His hands are now by his side, prominent veins from his other arm lead to the back of his hand which currently grips a pillow on the couch. His eyes are beginning to droop, with his head tilted back slightly. You notice how his Adam apple bobs in his throat with every guttural hum that he makes. His mouth is just about agape enough for you to spot his pink tongue peeking out at you.
And as for him? The sight of you is more wondrous than he could ever imagine. Your eyes are also heavy-lidded. Lips plump and wet with saliva dripping down your chin. This is a side of you that he’s never seen before. Your eyes glow with submission, the innocence and inexperience peeling off of you. If you keep looking at him with that expression, he’s not particularly confident that he’ll be able to hold on for that long.
“Don’t stop looking at me, okay?”
You hum a little before your lips open wide to wrap around his cock again. Yet this time, you manage to keep eye contact. Another unrestrained grunt leaves Miguel’s mouth, his lips parting once more.
You’d say that you’re confident now, relaxed more than ever – confident enough to begin exploring. Keeping his cock in your mouth, you begin to bob your head at a rhythmic pace and at the same time a free hand reaches down to his base, lightly tracing over his balls.
A sharp inhale leaves his mouth. “You’re gonna kill me, you know that, nena?”
You hum in response, the vibration of your mouth causing a helpless moan from your roommate. You focus near the tip of his cock, returning back to tracing circles over the slit. One hand still pumps the rest of him whilst the other gently teases his balls with your fingertips.
He’s closer than you think. And you can tell by the way that his hips begin to shift a little as if he’s trying to get more of your touch. He tilts his head back, chest rising and falling at a more dramatic pace. “Shit–shit–shit-m’gonna, m’gonna cum– if– if you keep going… oh fuck!”
“Wan’ me to swallow it all?”
You’re practically teasing him at this point. Fuck, he’ll do anything, anything. And this time he doesn’t hold back in vocalizing this, the words ‘yes’ falling from his tongue, pleading, begging you to continue. “Yes, yes, don’t fucking stop.”
You decide to grant him his wishes, turning to a faster pace as you stroke his length with your hand. You can feel his cock twitching, thick veins rubbing against your palm.
“You close, mig’?” you taunt, watching as he closes his eyes in pure euphoria. He nods, inchorant words fall from his lips in a babble as his hips jerk upwards and his thighs tense around you.
Fuck, fuck, fuck m’cumming! M’gonna–”
Miguel manages to cut himself off with a deep groan, lifting his hips up as you wrap your lips around him for the last time. His cock twitches, veins pulsating as your mouth is filled with his white seed. You swallow as much as you can, trying to bear the salty taste. His cum is thick, spurting so much out you think you won’t be able to keep up. Some leaks out, dripping down his shaft. As soon as you’ve swallowed, you lap up what you missed.
“Fuck, wait, wait–”
“M’cleaning you up.” you mumble. You can tell how sensitive he is. Just from your tongue lightly licking his length so as to not waste anything, his cock twitches. Once satisfied, you pull away, your tongue licking at your bottom lip.
Apart from the sound of the now forgotten movie playing in the background and the sound of light panting coming from Miguel, there’s a silence between the both of you.
You lean back, resting on your heels as you begin to grow aware of your actions.
You’ve just sucked off your roommate. Correction. Your hot ass roommate.
Neither of you know what to say. You begin to avoid his eye contact, feeling the awkwardness creep in. Yet, it fails to fully entrap you as Miguel chooses to bite the dust and speaks first.
“For someone with a mouth that doesn’t shut up, I’m surprised you know how to use it well.” he mutters, pulling up his boxers and sweatpants.
All tension from your body begins to evaporate, a slight smile appearing on your lips.
“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?” you frown, wiping off remnants of his cum mixed with your saliva from your lips with the back of your hand.
“Nothing, nothing. You were just…good for someone who hadn’t done anything like this before.”
Unlike when you were sucking him off, his praise causes heat to rise to your cheeks, your face burning up. And like a few moments ago too, you continue to avoid his eyes.
Clearing your throat, you move to stand, gesturing that you’re about to go to your room. The movie is just about over but neither you nor him were worried about that anymore.
“Any other advice that I should take?” you say.
Miguel frowns, taking a few moments to think deeply. If he’s being completely honest with himself, that orgasm has crushed him. Leaving him with nothing but thoughts of you and that sweet mouth of yours. Just thinking about it almost makes him hard again.
A part of him almost dares to tell you to forget your date tomorrow and to go out with him tomorrow. The card and flowers addressed to you, wait patiently in his room, a last-minute gift after weeks of building up the courage to ask you. All that courage is lost now though.
He’s too late.
“No.” He says, finally, going against his instincts. “Just do exactly what you did for me.”
“No complaints?”
“No complaints.” He clarifies. A deep pit of regret and hurt builds up again in his lower stomach, a feeling that he’ll have to start getting used to. He deserves it, he thinks, for not asking you sooner. He has no right to be jealous that someone else beat him to it. Not when he wasn’t dropping enough signs to prove that…
he’s falling in love with you.
Before entering your bedroom, you pause, the door leading to your bedroom slightly ajar. “Hey.”
Miguel glancing up to look at you.
“Thanks.”
Miguel says nothing more and really he should be the one thanking you for the heaven that you’ve just taken him to. He waits until he hears your bedroom door close and lock before letting out a sigh that he didn’t know he was holding in.
After he’s sure that you won’t return, Miguel pulls out his phone, tapping his screen until he reaches a certain page.
‘Are you sure you want to cancel your reservation for a ‘table for two’ on the 14th of February ?’
After a mere moment of hesitation, he confirms. His thumb clicking on ‘yes’.
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part 2.
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imaginespazzi · 3 months ago
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Part 5: The Answers We Wait For
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Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11
I'd go back in time and change it (but I can't)
(In which a writer's busy schedule somehow still had time for her favorite obsession)
Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd
Themes: Angst, Pining
Words: 7.0K (it's very on-brand that my busiest week would produce the longest chapter)
TW: Swearing (I think that's it?)
A/N: Happy Monday lovelies :) How I managed to pull this off is between me and God at this point but here we are. I know it's been an interesting day to say the least, so I'm hoping me living up to my promises can be a silver lining. Quick note that I already fucked up the timeline at some point and Paige Olivia have actually been divorced for almost 3 years. I'll change that eventually. I actually didn't even try to really edit this chapter and in the choice between editing tomorrow and giving it to y'all today, I chose the latter. So please help a girl out and point out my typos/mistakes if you spot them and I will also eventually go back and edit. As always, let me know what you liked, what you disliked and anything you'd like to see going forwards. Have a lovely week my loves <3
December 2027
Marriage and weddings had never been at the forefront of Paige’s mind. To be completely honest, for most of her life, there wasn’t much occupying her brain other than the court under her feet and the basketball in her hands. But the couple of times she had let herself picture it, she’d always thought that she’d have a Fall wedding, probably in Minnesota, maybe even on a basketball court. An indoor winter wedding in Texas had never once crossed her mind. She’d imagined vibrant fun bouquets made of pink lilies and purple hydrangeas, not the elegant red and white roses arrangements that were currently being placed along a far too heavily decorated aisle. Instead of vintage wines and carefully constructed fancy cocktails, she’d thought it would be nice to have spiked shirley temples and maybe even blue and white jello shots. She had expected to have a quiet ceremony followed by a vivacious gathering of everyone she loved. It had never even occurred to her that her wedding would become a public spectacle with People's magazine in attendance.  She’d pictured a party, not an event. 
Most of all she’d dreamt of getting married to a girl with dark eyes that could see all of Paige’s flaws and a soft smile that promised she’d love Paige despite them all. 
But the thing about dreams is that they’re fleeting trains that travel through the tracks of your mind when you’re asleep, and when you wake up, reality is nothing but a devastating train crash. 
Paige sighs, forcing herself out of her own head, as she stares at her reflection in the mirror. She looks pretty. Brittany had found her a nice white wedding suit -fitted to perfection- matching it with dainty silver jewelry. Paige normally liked her outfits a little looser but Olivia loved it and Paige likes that Olivia loves it. Her hair is styled in a bun, with two straightened strands to highlight her face. She thinks she might have preferred to have them curled in the front but Olivia had sweetly insisted on them being straight because hers would be curly and they had to complement, not match. Paige doesn’t really understand the difference or the importance but she thinks if Olivia wants it like that then she's fine with it. She thinks the bold red lipstick heavily coating her mouth makes her look a little bit like a vampire out of a badly directed 90’s horror movie but Olivia had said it was necessary so that the lights and cameras didn’t wash her face out. 
Paige looks pretty. She just doesn’t really look like Paige. 
“What do you think Drewski?” she asks, twirling to face her stone-faced brother who’s sitting on the couch, with a bout of enthusiasm that rings hollow to her own ears, “do I look gorgeous or what?”
“You look weird,” Drews says stiffly and Paige sighs. 
“Dr-” Paige is cut off by her younger brother sauntering over. A confused expression spreads over her features as Drew takes her hand and places it on his forehead, “uh- what are you doing?”
“Paigey, doesn't my forehead feel hot? I feel so sick,” the little boy whines, letting out a series of overzealous dramatized coughs. 
“Your forehead feels fine,” Paige says, slowly removing her hand.
“Well of course you’d think that. You’re not a doctor who knows how to feel foreheads correctly. I think we need to go to the hospital to see a real doctor. Like right now,” Drew pulls at Paige’s hand as she begins to catch onto what he’s trying to make happen. 
“You’re fine Drew.”
“I’m NOT. I’m very, very, very sick. So we have to leave right now. I could be contagious. I could be a danger to all these people,” Drew’s animated hands start to fly everywhere, “you can’t get married when your little brother’s sick. It’s- it’s just wrong. Bad juju or something like that. Everybody will understand that you just had to call off the wedding. For family reasons.”
“Drew-” Paige tries again, a hard pit settling in her stomach. 
“Are you worried cause you didn’t bring your car? That’s okay I’m sure Ice or KK will drive us but you can’t get married today Paigey. You just can’t,” his bottom lip trembles as the façade of illness slips and Paige feels her own eyes start to get glossy, “it’s not right Paigey. This is all wrong. She’s all wrong.”
“It’s not like that Drew. You just haven’t gotten to know-”
“I don’t want to know her,” Drew yells, “you don’t even know her. How can you get married to someone you’ve barely dated for a year. How can you do this to Az-”
“That’s enough,” Paige’s voice is eerily calm, as she digs her fingernails into her palm, “watch how you talk to me-”
“You’re being stup-”
“Drew Thomas I am not going to repeat myself again. Behave yourself. You’re not nearly old enough to be questioning what I do with my life,” it takes every inch of self-control Paige has to not let her voice shake. 
Her younger brother’s words feel like acid rain pelting against her already wounded skin. They slip into the gashes, mixing into her bloodstreams to create an army with the battalion of her own thoughts that have been hacking away at her heart for god knows how long. Paige wonders how long it’ll be before she finally bleeds out. 
“Please don’t get married Paigey,” Drew pleads, gripping his sister’s hand, “please.”
There’s nothing but silence as Paige opens and closes her mouth. And she doesn’t know if she’s trying to get words out or breathe air in; all she knows is that Drew might be squeezing her hands, but it feels like someone is strangling her lungs. 
She’s saved from having to say anything by a hesitant knock on the door. As Drew begrudgingly goes to open it, Paige scrambles to put herself back together. She closes her eyes, taking in three deep breaths before-
Drew gasps and Paige’s eyes fly open. With her back turned to the door, she can’t see who it is and something like hope starts to bloom in her chest, vines of maybe it’s her weaving through her ribcage. And as she turns around, they turn to dust; dust that floats up to her eyes and makes them tear up again as she stares dumbfoundedly at the two people standing somewhat awkwardly in her doorway. 
Paige had grown up an independent child. It wasn’t that her parents were neglectful or that they hadn’t loved her enough because they had. But at first it was the constant fighting and then it was the nurturing of a brand new family with new children and Paige had slipped through the cracks of oh she’s so mature we don’t need to worry about her. She had always had her parents as cheerleaders in the stands; no one was prouder of Paige than they were. But no one had bothered to force her to drink terrible tasting immunity boosters. No had patiently dyed her hair purple and pinky promised to like it even if it turned out terrible. No one had yelled at her for being in the gym till one a.m or woken her up at an ungodly hour to run drills. Not until she’d met a girl at 15 and that girl’s parents had decided that Paige was just as much theirs as their own daughter. 
And suddenly there were more people added to her cheering squad for her wins. But that’s not when Paige fell in love with Tim and Katie Fudd. It was when she lost and there was a nagging finger followed by a full breakdown of what she could do better next time and finally, a bear hug promising they’d help her do it. They’d been there every step and she’d sent the invitation, scared they wouldn’t show up, that they wouldn’t be there for this step, a step that inadvertently took her further away from them. But here they are anyway. 
“Hi sweetheart,” Katie says softly, her own eyes moist as she takes in the sight of the bride, “you look- you look absolutely stunning Paige.”
“You came,” Paige whispers, “I didn’t- I didn’t know if you would.”
“Of course we came,” Tim exclaims but his normal boisterous voice doesn’t feel nearly as enthusiastic, “always told you we’d be front and center at your wedding.”
Because I was supposed to marry your daughter; I was supposed to become your daughter, officially. 
“I’m really glad you guys came,” Paige says, letting Katie wrap her into a warm hug. She only gets a second to let herself enjoy it before Drew’s asking a question that makes her stiffen. 
“Where’s Azzi?” 
It’s like there’s lightning wrapped in that one syllable and it strikes right through Paige’s heart, setting every inch of it ablaze with the flames of a name that used to feel like cotton candy on her tongue; now it feels like lava. 
“She couldn’t make it,” Tim says slowly and Paige knows she shouldn’t be surprised, let along disappointed that her ex wasn’t coming but there’s a string that snaps anyways. 
“Why not?” Drew asks petulantly. 
“The baby’s due next month,” Tim tells him gently, “she can’t fly.”
The air feels suffocating at the mention of the baby. She’d been scrolling mindlessly through her tiktok feed when the announcement had popped up. She still has it memorized. 
Golden State Valkyries superstar shooting guard Azzi Fudd announces pregnancy on Instagram; she’ll miss the upcoming WNBA season. 
For a moment the world had stopped as Paige had hurriedly switched apps to instagram. And there it was. A smiling picture of Azzi holding a sonogram. Paige doesn’t know how long she’d stared at the picture but she remembers that it was set against a white background and she remembers that Azzi was wearing a green top. And as she’d typed out a congrats! that blended in seamlessly with all the other felicitating comments on the post, Paige had wondered if Azzi had felt it too. She’d wondered if, when Azzi had left a similar congratulations <3 post on Paige’s engagement announcement, she’d felt something unravel too. She’d wondered if Azzi had felt this hollowness of and i guess this is us signing off on never getting forever with each other. 
“So Azzi’s not going to stop this wedding?” Drew’s voice is dangerously even as he rounds on Paige, “and you’re really going through with this?”
“Drew please” Paige says tiredly as Katie runs a soothing hand down her back. 
“You’re stupid. And she’s stupid. You’re all so freaking stupid,” Drew bursts out, stomping past the adults in the doorway, his anger palpable in every single word. 
“I got it,” Tim says, wrapping a wrist around Paige’s hand as she moves to follow her younger brother. He squeezes gently, a half-hearted smile on his face, “it’s gonna be okay kid. It always is.”
Paige wishes she could just believe him, turn off the voices in her head and just be a kid who could take an adult’s word as gospel. But Paige is the adult now and believing no longer comes so naturally. 
“Hey,” Katie says after Tim runs after Drew, pulling Paige to sit with her on the couch, “I have a little wedding gift for you.
“Katie you don’t have-” Paige begins, watching as the older woman pulls out a velvet box from her bag, placing her phone on the table next to her. 
“Oh hush. I told you I’d give this to you,” Katie chides as she hands the velvet box. Paige’s eyes glisten as she opens it to find a familiar purple amethyst necklace. She’s flooded with the vivid image of her and Azzi on a random day in lockdown helping Katie organize her minimal jewelry. Paige had fallen in love with this necklace and Azzi had her eyes set on a pink topaz. It was fitting to say the least and Katie had promised them, with a glint in her eyes, that she’d give it to them as their something old on their wedding day. They’d been in between something and everything but Paige and Azzi had shared a shy smile over it anyways. 
“I can’t accept this,” Paige shakes her head trying to hand the box back but Katie dodges it expertly. 
“Yes you can. It’s basically a family heirloom and you, Paige Bueckers, are family,” Katie says firmly. 
“Katie-”
The older woman presses a kiss to Paige’s forehead as she starts to head out, “you’re always gonna be family Paige. Always.”
Katie’s words act like a band-aid but they’re not enough- maybe nothing will be enough- to fully heal the wound of today i was supposed to officially become a Fudd. 
A ringing noise interrupts Paige’s pity party and she starts half-heartedly digging around for her phone. She’s confused when she finds it because no one’s calling her and the room is still vibrating with noise. Crinkling her eyebrows, Paige’s eyes finally land on the couch side table, where Katie’s phone, clearly forgotten, is buzzing. 
Azzi’s CallerID flashes on the screen. 
Paige stares at the phone, rooted in place. She knows she shouldn’t pick it up, knows she should go return it. Still without a decision, Paige slowly starts to reach for it. And then it stops ringing and Paige goes still again, unsure if she’s relieved or disappointed. Swallowing, she takes another step. The phone rings again. A myriad of thoughts dance through Paige’s mind, opposing thoughts clashing with each other and making her head hurt. She lies to herself that it’s out of concern; that Azzi’s pregnant and this could be important. She lies to herself as she hits the green answer button that it’s not because she’s desperate to hear Azzi’s voice. 
“Mom?” Azzi sounds distraught when she picks up but Paige thinks it’s still her favorite sound any way, “Mom? I think I did something wrong. I can’t do this Mom. You’ve been gone a day and I’ve already fucked up. I don’t know what and I don’t know when but I think I fucked up. Maybe I ate something I wasn’t supposed to. Maybe it’s because I lay on my back instead of my side but Mom she hasn’t kicked all day and I can’t get Dr. Myers on the phone and I-”
“It’s a girl?” Paige breathes out. And suddenly she’s 22, sitting in a UConn apartment living room, grinning foolishly as Jana points out an AI picture that looks like the perfect mixture of her and Azzi. Azzi, who’s having a daughter. 
The woman in question is quiet and for a second Paige thinks that Azzi might hang up. 
“It’s a girl Paige,” Azzi says finally. 
“Are you- are you okay?” Paige asks slowly, trying not to dwell on how much she’s missed the way Azzi says her name. It’s been Bueckers every time they’ve seen each other this year and she’s never hated the sound of her last name more. 
“Yeah, I just-” Azzi sighs, her voice still a little frazzled, “I’m just being paranoid cause my Mom’s not here and my doctor’s not answering and the stupid baby hasn’t kicked all day,” she pauses, “sorry. I-I don’t mean to dump on you. Not today at least.”
“Az-”
“Where’s my Mom?”
“She- she’s probably outside. Think she left her phone here by accident. I can go find her but can I-” Paige hesitates, chewing at her lips in a way she knows Olivia hates, “can I help?”
“I don’t think-”
Paige shocks herself with her next words, “put the phone to your stomach.”
“What? Paige, did you hit your head in the last two seconds or something?”
“Just- just trust me,” she’s not really sure what she’s saying but now that she’s said, might as well commit to the bit, “I’mma talk sense into her. I saw it in a movie.”
“You saw it in a-” Azzi sighs and Paige can practically picture her rolling her eyes.  “I don’t know who’s more insane. You for coming up with the idea or me because I’mma follow through it,” there’s a bunch of static noise on the other side as Azzi adjusts herself, putting the phone on speaker and pressing it to her belly, “alright Dr. Bueckers work your magic.”
Paige is nervous as she speaks, “hey there little bean. I’m your-” she stops because what is she, “I’m your Paige,” she decides softly, “and I think- I think you should stop stressing your Mama out. She’s a bit of an overthinker so if you could just help her out, I think she’d really appreciate it. Because if- if you don’t she isn’t gonna be able to sleep tonight and you don’t know this yet but when your Mama doesn’t get sleep, she’s kind of a bi-”
“Paige,” Azzi hisses.
“Big baby,” Paige corrects, “she’s a big baby. And then she cries and it’s not a pretty sight-”
“Hey!”
“Sshhh Azzi I’m working my magic,” Paige scolds, “where was I? Oh yeah. She cries and it’s not a pretty sight because,’ her voice softens, “seeing your Mama cry is the worst thing in the world. I hate it and I know- I know you’re gonna hate it too because when you finally come out little bean, the first thing you’re gonna see is your Mama’s smile. And you’re gonna think it’s the most beautiful thing in the world. Just like I do,” a sob escapes on the other end of the line and Paige feels tears start to cascade down her own cheeks, “come on little bean, give us a little kick. Make your Mama smile.”
Time ticks by slowly and Paige closes her eyes, thinking maybe her desperate attempt to keep Azzi on the line had failed miserably. And then Azzi gasps, “she kicked. Oh my god Paige she kicked.”
Paige’s grin stretches her whole face and for a second it almost feels like she’s right there with Azzi, that instead of her ear being pressed to a phone, it’s pressed to Azzi’s belly. For a second she almost feels like she can feel the baby kicking. And then she opens her eyes. 
“Did it make you smile?” 
“Yeah, yeah it did,” Azzi admits and Paige can hear the relief in her voice. 
“I’m glad- I’m glad you have something that makes you smile.”
“Do you?” Azzi sucks in a sharp breath, “do you have someone that makes you smile?”
“Yeah, yeah I do,” and it’s not a complete lie. Olivia does make Paige smile. And maybe it’s not quite as big or bright or real but at least Olivia’s here to try. 
“Good. I-I’m also really glad you have that.”
“You are?”
“Of course I am Paige,” Azzi says quietly, “I want you to smile. I just- I just want you to be happy. Are you happy Paige?”
“I’m getting married today,” Paige says in lieu of an answer and she can hear Azzi’s breath hitch. 
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“It is. It’s a yes or no question,” Azzi presses.
“Then you answer it Azzi,” Paige bites out, “are you happy?”
“I”m-,” the younger girl lets out a sigh, “I’m content.”
Her answer makes Paige’s skin itch with irritation and she can’t stop it from seeping into her next question, “so you have no regrets then?”
“I didn’t say that,” there’s a warning edge to Azzi’s voice. 
“Do you or do you not regret saying no to marrying me Azzi?” Paige asks, unable to hold it in any longer. 
“Paige-”
“What? You gonna say it’s not that simple? It’s a yes or no question Azzi,” Paige mocks. 
“That’s not it-”
“Then what is?”
“You’re getting married Paige,” Azzi yells, “you’re getting married,” she repeats again, softer this time, “to someone else. And so it doesn’t matter how I feel. It isn’t fair of you to ask and it wouldn’t- it wouldn’t be fair of me to answer. Not today. Maybe one day- one day it'll be the right time but not today.”
“And what if it’s never the right time?” 
“Then maybe it’s a question you were never meant to know the answer to.”
There’s something final in the quietness that follows, like they’re having a moment of silence at a funeral for what never even got to be. 
It’s Azzi who speaks first. 
“You’re gonna be a wonderful wife P.”
“You’re gonna be an amazing mom Az.”
They let it left unsaid that they were supposed to be wives to each other, that they were supposed to be moms together. 
***
March 2033 
Paige doesn’t know how long she stands outside, staring down the winding road that had taken Stephie and Azzi away from her. The neighborhood is slowly waking up and if the woman across the street opens her curtains and thinks it’s a little strange that her new neighbor is standing like a statue on her front porch, she only raises a slight eyebrow before going back to her day. It takes almost twenty minutes before her head finally convinces her heart that no matter how much she stands outside, they’re not coming back. 
There’s a part of her that can admit that maybe Azzi had a point and maybe she shouldn’t have asked her to stay over last night. But Paige has never been known for her common sense, especially not when it comes to Azzi. Because truth be told, asking Azzi to stay the night was perhaps the least ridiculous of the thoughts that had invaded her mind last night. It was easy- too easy- to fall right back into whatever with Azzi. She’d done a good job pretending that the nightly facetime calls had been for Stephie’s benefit but the truth is that they had become just as much a necessity for Paige. She’d fallen asleep with a smile on her face every night and the temptation to have that in person last night had been too hard to resist. And so she hadn’t. 
She makes it about three steps up the stairs, when the fort still set up in the living room catches her eye. And that’s when the first tear falls, and then the second and then the third until she thinks if she tried to swim in them, she’d probably drown. Paige abandons the idea of going up to her room and crawls back into the tent made of blankets. And she must be going insane because she swears she can still smell the faint scent of a toddler and Azzi’s lavender perfume on the pillow she cradles to her chest. It’s ridiculous to be so attached already. She knows that. Stephie isn’t hers but it feels like the little girl has crept underneath her skin, burrowing herself in a part of Paige’s heart that the blond didn’t even know was there. And Azzi- well no matter how long it’s been, no matter how much resentment Paige has held, the truth is that there’s a little patch of Paige’s soul  that will always belong to the younger woman. 
Paige barely registers herself falling asleep until there’s abrupt knocking on her door and she realizes she’s been cocooned in the fort for almost three hours. She hesitantly lets go of the pillow, groggily walking towards the door. It’s useless to pretend that she isn’t hoping it’s Azzi and Stephie on the other side, isn’t hoping that Azzi had realized her mistake, isn’t hoping to scoop both of them into her arms and fill the hollowness that’s been thrumming against her ribcage. God Paige has barely survived a month -a day if she’s completely honest- she doesn’t know how she’s going to survive this whole season. 
She crosses her fingers behind her back as she opens the door. 
“Hey,” Katie’s smiling face looks back at her, holding up a tray of coffee and a bag of something, “figured you haven’t eaten breakfast yet?”
Paige blinks stupidly as Katie lets herself in, moving through Paige’s house with ease and immediately locating the kitchen. She hands Paige a cup of coffee before ransacking through the bag and pulling out a glazed donut, “eat. I know you haven’t.”
“Does Azzi know you’re here?” Paige asks slowly before taking a bite out of her donut. 
Katie gives her pointed look, “who do you think gave me your address?”
“Is she- is she okay?” 
“You two are something you know,” Katie shakes her head, “you’re asking me if she’s okay and she sent me over here to make sure that you were okay.”
Paige feels her heart swell with after all this time, “she sent you?”
“I have breakfast with Azzi and Stephie every Sunday morning. Now imagine my surprise when I get there today and my oh so sweet and wonderful granddaughter isn’t talking to her mother. And so I forced the story out of Azzi and I barely understood a word she was saying through her tears-”
“She was crying?” Paige feels her lungs constrict. 
Katie shoots her an unimpressed look, “can I finish the story?”
“I don’t like this story. It has Azzi crying.”
“Yeah well the two of you seem to enjoy doing that to each other,” Katie cocks an unamused eyebrow and Paige flinches at the truth of it, “anyways I didn’t understand much of it but she was clear by the end. Seemed to think you needed someone, needed me and so here I am Paige.”
“Why is your daughter like this?” Paige demands, “how is she gonna make me cry and then send somebody else to wipe my tears.”
“Well I can leave-”
“Why couldn’t she just have stayed?” the blonde questions, “why does she always have to overthink things and make it more complicated? Why can’t she just listen to her heart once in her fucking life? Why can’t she just let herself live? Why is it always no with her and never just yes?”
Katie gives Paige a sad smile, reaching for her hand, “that’s why.”
“Please don’t speak in riddles. It’s 10 a.m and I’m sad,” Paige whines. She might be in her early thirties but there’s something about Katie Fudd that makes Paige feel like it’s okay to be a bit of a child.
“Why is it always no with her and never yes?” Katie repeats, “c’mon Paige you know that’s not about last night.”
“It is,” Paige argues stubbornly. 
“It’s not,” Katie says, gently squeezing Paige’s hand, “it’s about her saying no 8 years ago.”
“I’m ov-” Paige stops, withering under Katie’s glare, “okay maybe it’s a little bit about her saying no 8 years ago. But I’m allowed to still be upset about it. She broke my heart. I wanted forever and she walked away. I’m allowed to be mad about that.”
“Of course you’re allowed to be mad Paige but that’s exactly why Azzi had to go this morning. And it’s exactly why you shouldn’t have asked her to stay last night. You guys can’t just pretend none of it happened because it did. You’re still hurt Paige and ignoring that is gonna get you guys nowhere. Especially with Stephie involved.”
“So what are you saying? You’re saying me and Azzi should just be teammates? You’re saying I should just never see Stephie again,” even the thought of it makes Paige feel like she is laying down on a bed of thorns. 
“You’re so goddamn dramatic Bueckers,” Katie rolls her eyes, “I’m not saying any of that. I’m saying maybe you just need to take it slower, with both of them, instead of having a goddamn sleepover the literal first night you’re in the same city. Besides,” Katie gives her a knowing smirk, “my granddaughter is obsessed with her Miss Buecks. Pretty sure she’d find a way to see you again no matter what.”
“Good,” Paige lets out her first smile of the day, “because I’d find a way to see her again too. She just- she’s kinda great isn’t she? Azzi did a good job with that one. She’s- she’s perfect,” she looks at Katie who’s regarding Paige with a thoughtful expression, “what? Do I have donut glaze on my face?”
“No, no it just- I’ve seen that expression before.”
“What expression?”
“The one you just had on your face while talking about Stephie,” Katie laughs to herself, “it’s the same one Tim had when he first met Azzi.”
***
“Oh my god. It’s Paige Bueckers. Can I have your autograph?” Steph Curry winks at Paige as she walks into his office. The Golden State legend had started an after-school basketball camp for kids in the Bay Area and as soon as he’d heard the news of Paige coming over to the Valkyries, he’d messaged her if she’d be interested in helping him out in the off-season. Paige had been more than willing to be a part of it, always invested in giving back to her community. If she’d been excited by the idea before though, today, after the worst sleep of her night as she tossed and turned to the hopeless depression of not having spoken to Stephie and Azzi for far too long, Paige really needed this distraction. 
“Don’t think you can afford my autograph,” Paige smirks lazily as she basically droops into the seat opposite him. 
Steph laughs goodnaturedly, “welcome to the Bay Area kid.”
“I’m a little old to be called a kid don’t you think? I’m nearly 25,” Paige grins, wiggling her eyebrows.. 
Steph shakes his head, “nah you’re always gonna be a kid to me. You and Azzi both,” he chuckles to himself, “even though Azzi’s got her own kid now. Have you met her?”
Well that distraction lasted 30 seconds, Paige thinks to herself as she forces a smile onto her face, “yeah. I’ve seen her around.”
“She’s cute as hell right? And she knows it. Little miss bossy pants has everyone wrapped around her fingers. Kinda reminds me of Riley,” there’s a goofy expression as Steph thinks of his daughter and Paige wonders if the same one is reflected on her face as she thinks about Stephie, “and she’s a natural at basketball. Only five and her shot’s already pretty good. You’ll see it today when she comes to camp. And she’s pretty good at defense-”
“I’m sorry what?” Paige blinks rapidly. 
“I know. What defense can a 5 year old play but it’s just the way she moves you know?” Steph tries to explain and Paige shakes her head. 
“Not that. Stephie- Stephie’s coming to camp?”
Steph grins large and proud, “of course she is. She was the first camper I signed.”
“Right,” Paige nods, giving the man in front of her a tight smile, “can you- can you excuse me for one second.”
As soon as Paige is outside of Steph’s earshot, she’s calling Katie; Katie who had sat at her kitchen counter yesterday and listened with a smile as Paige told her all about Steph’s camp. Katie who hadn’t said one word about Stephie being a part of said camp. Katie who was maybe grinning just a little too hard at the idea. 
“Did you know Stephie goes to Curry Camp?” Paige asks as soon as the line connects. 
“Hi Katie. Hi Paige. How was your day? Oh mine was good Paige, thanks for asking, how was yours?” Katie replies sarcastically. 
“Katie,” Paige groans. 
“Did I know that my granddaughter goes to her godfather’s special camp for the sport that her mother plays and she’s obsessed with?” Katie says slowly and Paige can tell she’s holding back a laugh, “nope, didn’t have a clue. 
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“And ruin the surprise?”
“What happened to telling me to take things slow?” Paige hisses. 
“Well if I left the two of you two to your own devices y’all wouldn’t go slow, you wouldn’t even move at all,” Katie defends. 
“So you’re meddling?”
“I am not,” Katie protests, “you were always gonna help with the camp and Stephie’s already been going to the camp. I just didn’t let you stress out about it. Really you should be thanking me.”
“Thank you Katie,” Paige bites out mockingly. 
“You’re so very welcome Paige,” Katie sing-songs, “by the way, come over for dinner soon okay sweetheart. Love you honey. See you later darling.”
She hangs up before Paige can say anything and the blonde saunters back into Steph’s office, trying to corral her facial expression into something more neutral. 
“All good?” Steph asks. 
“Just peachy,” Paige hums in response, “we gonna head over to the court soon? It’s almost 4.”
Steph nods, “yeah they’ll be done setting up for us. Azzi usually brings Stephie to say hi to me right before cause no favoritism in front of the other kids you know? But maybe she’s running la- oh no wait there they are!”
Paige freezes, heartbeat erratic, as Steph walks to the door in anticipation. 
“UNCLE TWIN,” Stephie screams and something in Paige’s heart starts to fix itself at the sound of the younger girl’s voice. She’s scared to turn around, unsure if she’s more scared to realize it’s a dream or find out that it’s reality. 
“TWIN NIECE,” Steph yells back with equal vigor and Paige can hear Azzi’s laugh now too, each giggle acting like a needle, stitching up the parts of Paige that had felt broken since yesterday morning. She turns around deliberately slowly. Stephie is cradled in Steph’s arms and Azzi’s watching them with a fond smile. And it’s ridiculous to be jealous of a happily married man who’s practically Azzi’s brother if not her uncle, but the sense of that should be me, weighs heavily on Paige’s lungs anyways. 
It’s Azzi who sees her first, smile slowly fading as dark brown eyes clash with light blue ones. 
“Paige,” she whispers softly and there’s a multitude of undecipherable emotions wrapped in that one syllable and Paige thinks she could spend forever just trying to uncover them. 
Stephie’s ear perks up at the mention of Paige’s name as her own little eyes finally land on the blonde, shuffling her feet nervously in the corner. Her bottom lip trembles, eyes watering as she forces herself down from Steph’s lap, racing to Paige. It’s instinct the way Paige falls to her knees, ready to catch the bundle of limps that practically falls into her waiting arms. 
“Miss Buecks,” Stephie whimpers, “I missed you so much.”
Paige’s own eyes water as she buries her face in Stephie’s hair, “me too sweetheart. I missed you so, so, so much.”
In front of them, Steph looks beyond confused as to what's happening and Azzi’s determinedly looking away, even if there’s a lone tear waterfalling down her left cheek. 
“I couldn’t sleep last night,” Stephie confesses, voice choked up as she tightens her grip on Paige’s neck, “and I begged and I begged Mama to let me call you but she said you were busy. And then I yelled at Mama and it made Mama cry too and I hate making Mama cry.”
“I know. I know sweetheart,” Paige soothes softly, running her hands down Stephie’s back as the little girl continues to babble. They stay like that for a long time and Paige thinks if she could ask the world for one thing that doesn’t belong to her, she’d ask for Stephie. 
Finally Steph coughs, looking apprehensively between the three girls in the room, “so um- I take it you’ve more than just seen Stephie around then Paige?”
Paige lets out a watery laugh, finally letting Stephie go and turning around but still keeping a hand on Stephie’s shoulder, “yeah I guess that’s true.”
“What are you doing here Miss Buecks,” Stephie asks, looking up at Paige. 
“I’m uh- well Mr. Steph-”
“Uncle Twin,” Stephie corrects immediately and Paige can’t help but grin at the nickname. 
“Right. Uncle Twin asked me to be a coach at his camp and I agreed,” Paige explains, trying to catch Azzi’s eyes but the shooting guard seems determined to focus on a picture of Steph and Ayesha on the wall instead. 
“You’re gonna be my coach,” Stephie squeals, turning around to hug Paige’s knees, “this is the best news of my life.”
Paige feels her heart soar into a sky of you’re the best new of my life Stephie as she bends down to kiss Stephie forehead, “let’s see if you say that when I make you run laps after you miss a shot.”
“You wouldn’t?” Stephie says, looking horrified at the idea. 
“I totally would,” Paige teases. 
Stephie is quiet for a second before a proud smirk blooms on her lips, “that’s okay ‘cause I don’t miss. I’m Azzi Fudd’s daughter. Right Mama?”
“Right baby,” Azzi says, finally letting herself meet Paige’s gaze. 
“Well Miss-I-Don’t-Miss, how about you walk over to the court and show us how you don’t miss,” Steph teases. 
Stephie waddles out of Paige’s grip and holds her arms up at Steph, a saccharine smile on her face,“I can’t be tired if I don’t wanna miss Uncle Twin, so can you please carry me over there?”
Steph rolls his eyes but it doesn’t stop him from hoisting Stephie onto his shoulders, “alright your highness, let’s go.”
Stephie’s giggles echoe down the hall as Steph runs towards the courts and Paige can’t help the fond laugh that escapes her. 
“She gets that from you, you know,” Paige says softly to Azzi. 
“Gets what?”
“Being a princess who gets everything she wants.”
“Not everything,” Azzi says wistfully, “not everything I want.”
She moves to start following but Paige wraps a hand around her wrist, “I didn’t know Stephie was a part of Curry Camp. I swear I- I didn’t do this on purpose.”
Azzi sighs, “I know. I know you wouldn’t Paige.”
“And I- I wanted to thank you for sending your Mom yesterday. I really- I really did need it even if I didn’t know it,” Paige’s thumb subconsciously rubs against Azzi’s skin, “but you- you always seem to know what I need.”
Azzi rips her hand out from Paige's grip, “you’re doing it again.”
“I’m not-”
“Yes you are. You keep saying things like that- things you shouldn’t say- things I can’t just listen to and be okay,” Azzi brushes her hand against her face, “I know the way I left yesterday was wrong and maybe I was projecting,” she admits in a whisper, “but you just- you make me feel too fucking much. And it's too quick and it’s scares me.”
“Scares you?” Paige scoffs, “I’m not the one who broke your heart Azzi.”
“You don’t think I know that? You don’t think I’ve lived with that guilt for the last 8 years? Jesus fucking christ Paige. I’m not scared of you. I’m scared of me,” tears stream down Azzi’s face as she paces the room, “I have never heard Stephie cry so fucking much in my life Paige. And you know who did that to her? Me, I did that. Apparently I’m really fucking good at making people cry but I don’t want to. I don’t want to break her heart, I don’t want to break your heart and I don’t want to break my own heart. Not again.”
“Azzi-”
“And so I’m stopping it before it happens. Before I ruin it again.”
Azzi tries to leave again but Paige is faster, wrapping her arms around the younger woman’s waist and pulling her flush against her chest so she can’t escape. It’s a terrible idea because now all of her senses are consumed by Azzi as they both become acutely aware of how close they are now. 
“Paige,” Azzi whispers weakly, one hand pressed right against Paige’s heart, “let me go.”
“I think today’s the right time,” Paige says softly, hands grazing Azzi’s waist, “I asked you a question once and you said one day, when the time was right, you’d give me an answer. It’s the right time.”
“I don’t think so-”
“Azzi please,” Paige begs, “do you regret saying no?”
“Paige let me go,” Azzi wriggles against her grip but it only makes Paige tighten her hold. 
“It’s a simple yes or no question.’
“Stephie’s probably wondering where we are-”
“Then answer the damn question and we can go to her-”
“Paige please.”
“Answer the fucking question Azzi.”
“What do you want me to say?” Azzi bursts out finally, “you want me to say that I’ve never regretted anything more in my life? You want me to say the minute I said no, I wanted to rip out my tongue? You want me to say that I almost called you several times in the last decade to tell you how stupid I was? You want me to say that I flew to Dallas once to tell you that I fucked up but then I saw you with Olivia and decided you deserved better than me-”
“What?”  Paige feels the air being snatched from her lungs. 
“The answer to your stupid fucking question,” Azzi’s voice breaks, “is yes. Yes I regret saying no to you Paige. But it doesn’t matter. Because I said no and you found someone else who’d say yes and now it’s too late.”
And Paige thinks that Katie was probably right, that she should probably take things slow. But when it comes to Azzi Fudd, Paige Bueckers has never been one to do what she should. 
“It’s never too late for us,” Paige whispers before crashing her lips against the woman, who’s always been the reason for her biggest, brightest, most real smile.
346 notes · View notes
angelkiyo · 4 months ago
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modern au high school hcs for my fav haikyuu boys based on my high school experiences + romance hcs <3
[miya osamu, sakusa kiyoomi, oikawa torū, iwaizumi haijime]
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a/n- part one + my asks are open bc i do not know what to write but im down for mostly anything tbh so ASK AWAY PLS
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miya osamu
he has a similar gpa to his brother [gpa at a 2.5 😔]
is in culinary club and the president
since atsumu is a drake glazer, osamu makes sure to bring up kendrick everytime he hears a drake song
he had a field day when “not like us” mv dropped
even though his brother and him are opposites in a way, that hasn’t stopped osamu from being submitted on ‘inarizaki.bops’
he was most likely talking to a teacher
private insta with 300 followers
doesn’t give a fuck abt p.e and would be enjoying basketball if they weren’t able to play volleyball
osamu would probably also have a very casual way of dressing — stussy and abrocrombie fiend
steals from his brother’s nike collection while owning several pairs adidas gazelles and new balances himself
as for with his s/o, he would be more of a soft launch guy and would post stories of you two holding hands or the two of you in a mirror pic
he would def be holding your hand in the halls and having his arm around you
imagine peter k lara jean moment
your friends would find him to be a green flag
the two of you would use study hall to not study at all but use his little crock pot thing he got from tiktok shop and make food
would try to be nara smith one day and fail miserably
very much would wear ‘aqua de gio’ bc i said so (n would find atsumu’s cologne to be too strong)
dates would include: cooking at his place and eating your masterpieces while watching movies (esp spider-man bc he seems the type)
artists he would listen to: kendrick lamar, joey bada$$, childish gambino, doja cat
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sakusa kiyoomi
annoyingly smart (3.6 gpa) and would probably get a 4/5 avg on his ap tests
if he wasn’t on volleyball, he seems the type to be in academic decathlon or science olympiad
would be keeping to himself but if he were to play a sport, it would be smt like lacrosse or tennis
he’s rich. like RICH RICH. (he goes to itachiyama with three siblings or smt)
so he’d wear like club monaco, j. crew, or like ralph lauren
would have a specific rotation of shoes that would be asics or new balance in white
insta would be like 700 followers and 32 following
for him and his s/o, he’d be like osamu and would be very much soft launch you
even though he hates crowds, he would very much like to go out with you shopping (in a shopping center that has nobody/barely anyone)
kiyoomi may be presenting himself as a cold and calculating and he can be, but he’s a soft to ppl he’s close with
him and komori would use brain rot language ironically (I just see that lemme elaborate) after komori would use brain rot language unironically
he would use it with you once “by accident”
he kept hearing komori say it and said it subconsciously
and then never again after the second hand embarrassment he got
“on skibidi…?”
you still bring it up to this day (he blames komori)
dates would include movie nights and making pillow forts
artists he would listen to: sza, 21 savage, kanye west, playboi carti
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oikawa torū
would be a note taking fiend and be an honors/ap student with a 3.4
he would be on a ‘bop’ page for volleyball in general
great king? nah great bop
instead of being a wyll warrior, he’d be one of the mfks on insta that would slide up with a 😍 then ghost you after dm-ing
another dior sauvage user and on some days, versace eros…
caught up in the central cee madz drama
also obsessed with watching nara smith (me too)
he’s team ice spice
would be very persistent in taking 0.5s
though because of this, he purposely fluffs up his bangs and hair for him to not fall victim to 0.5s
if he didn’t play volleyball, he would play badminton/tennis
would be a SLUTTTT for pinterest clean boy fits
very clean boy core with his lululemon mens shit and would be shopping at alo + urban outfitters
also ralph lauren teddy bear sweaters n golden gooses
his insta user would be smt like “theyenvy_.toruuu” or basic like his full name and he would have more than 3k followers
THOUGH HE WOULD BE MAKING THOSE SHARED POSTS W YOU.
his finsta would be very full of you and spams of volleyball
nle choppa slut me out 2 glazer
dates would include: self care day at either one of your places while watching baddies or real housewives +shopping
artists he would listen to: laufey, cigarettes after sex, olivia rodrigo, megan thee stallion, nle choppa
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iwaizumi hajime
he went to uci so he has his shit tgt (nhs and 3.9 type shit w aps)
though, he would definitely be apart of debate club and a lacrosse person if he didn’t do volleyball
shops at psycho bunny or hollister. the occasional lululemon shirt bc oikawa put him on
would wear yeezys and supreme, i fear
i can see him being into watching the “who tf did I marry” series
massive gym bro
would have his finsta tracking his gains
his fyp would also probably be workouts and those “baby don’t hurt me” meme tiktoks (idk how to explain)
would be the winner of senior assassin
he would def shoot oikawa first
type of person to wear ‘obession’ by calvin klein mixed with axe body spray
as for insta, he would def have a good 1k
would post you to the cutest songs ever and collab on posts
HARD LAUNCH TYPA GUY
yall would have like a specific song that would make him be like “this is our songgg”
in his head
most likely a tyler song
aka ‘sweet/i thought you wanted to dance’
he’d be the okokok to your lalalala
dates would include: him just spoiling you and dinner dates
artists he would listen to: tyler the creator, metro boomin, 21 savage, kendrick lamar, j. cole
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216 notes · View notes
pinksturniolo · 7 months ago
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If I Can’t Have You, No One Can - Part Two
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Matt Sturniolo x Fem Reader
Summary: Matt can’t seem to stand the fact that he can’t have you to himself. He knows it’s wrong to want you. After all, you’ve been dating his best friend for the past few months. But he never claimed to be a good guy. And he’s more than willing to show you just what you’ve been missing.
Content warnings (not in every part): smut, oral, fingering, raw sex, cheating, unhealthy relationship, obsession, use of alcohol
matt being a dirty little simp in this part 👀
word count: 4,260
Matt’s POV
I thought about her all fucking night long, I couldn’t close my eyes without seeing her face and remembering the way her lips tasted on mine. I tossed and turned, the tent in my sweatpants growing, my dick so hard it was painful, until I found myself pulling them down in a haste and thrusting into my hand only to cum a mere 60 seconds later all over my stomach.
To be honest, that wasn’t the first time I touched myself to the thought of Y/N.
But now that I knew the feeling of her kiss, finally able to lay my hands on the soft skin of her waist, and hear her moan…
I could easily jerk off again to the thought of it, already feeling my self grow hard for the second time.
But I needed more, I craved more.
I feared that she wouldn’t talk to me after that kiss, that maybe I crossed the line. But I also didn’t regret it. The tension between us had been building for a while and I wanted her more than anything.
Boyfriend or no boyfriend.
When I first met her, I was attracted right away. My heart sank when Mark introduced her as his girlfriend. She had this magnetic energy I was drawn to, and a smile that made my heart race in my chest. She spoke with confidence and was naturally funny without even trying. The more she came around, the more positive things I noticed about her, and I couldn’t help myself from staring at her when she talked, or walked, or did anything really.
I felt like an idiot for falling for a girl I had only known for a couple months, no less a girl that was with one of my best friends. Mark was a decent guy and he seemed to really like her. At first. But there was just no chemistry there, and anyone with a working brain could see that there wasn’t much of a connection. Sure, they looked good together but that’s all it was.
I kept my thoughts and feelings to myself though, being respectful and polite when they were around. Whenever it was just her at the house without Mark, she seemed more comfortable and would joke around more. I found myself looking forward to the weekends when she would come and just hang out, sometimes spending the night in Nick’s room.
But when I was alone, thoughts of her lips, her eyes, her body consumed me. More than often, I gave into my needs, my fist wrapped around my cock, moaning out her name, panting and sweating until I came in my hand. I just couldn’t help myself when it came to her. No other girl piqued my interest, and it frustrated me to no end because I couldn’t do anything about it.
If I made a move on her, she would without a doubt reject me. That would be cheating. I couldn’t talk to my brothers about it because they would think I’m insane for sure. I’m sure they noticed that I felt some type of way though, always making suggestive comments and giving me suspicious looks when she was around.
There was one night when I thought maybe, just maybe she might feel the same way I did. We had all gone out that day to random places in the city, thrifting and just walking around. Once the sun started to set, we decided to drive back to the house and watch a movie on the couch like usual.
 It was just me and her, sitting in the car and waiting for Chris and Nick while they were in the gas station getting snacks. She looked out the passenger window, the look on her face like she was deep in thought. The little scrunch in her eyebrows and the way her bottom lip stick out slightly whenever she was zoned out like that was incredibly cute to me.
“What’s on your mind?” I asked, causing her to break her focus and look over to me, her expression sheepish.
“Oh, nothing important.” she replied, shaking her head with a small smile and looking down at her lap.
“Don’t do that.” I spoke.
“Do what?” She said, looking back up at me.
“You always brush off personal questions. Like you’re afraid to open up.”
She chuckled. “Trust me, you don’t want to know what I’m thinking about.” She looked back out the window, a suggestive tone in her voice, making me even more curious.
“Try me.”
A few seconds of silence passes.
“Have you ever had a secret Matt? Like a secret you couldn’t tell anyone?” She turns towards me.
“Yeah, sure. Doesn’t everyone?”
“No, I mean like a secret so bad, it would change everything. Even hurt someone?”
“…..Okay do I need to be worried?”
She laughs, a sound I could never get tired of. My heart starts to race at what secret she could possibly be talking about, and the look on her face is unreadable.
“Sorry, I don’t mean to be dramatic. I just… I have a secret that I haven’t talked about with anyone, not even Mark…. especially not Mark.”
“Are you okay? Like, he’s not doing anything bad is he-“
“No, no. Nothing like that. It’s… something I did that’s bad.”
Her eyes are filled with desperation as she looks at me, like she’s terrified of what I’m going to say.
I grab her hand instinctively, and the feeling of her skin against mine is amazing. It’s a simple act, but it elicits a fire within me.
“What could you possibly do that’s so bad? I won’t judge you, I promise.” I tell her.
The eye contact is driving me insane, the tension in the car now thick as she squeezes my hand.
“That’s the thing Matt… I’m scared you will.”
Before she can say anything more, the back door opens, and Nick and Chris come climbing in.
She drops my hand and turns back to face the front of her seat, making my heart sink.
Chris opens his bag of chips, immediately chewing obnoxiously while Nick thumps on the back of my seat. “Come on, Matt! I got ice cream, and I don’t want it to melt!”
I roll my eyes, and sigh heavily, backing out of the parking lot.
“What’s up his ass?” Nick asks, looking at Y/N. She simply shrugs, looking out the window again, silent for the rest of the car ride.
She never brought up the conversation again, even making an excuse to leave that night instead of watching the movie with us. I felt horrible, like I upset her in some way. After that night, she started to be distant and her visits less and less frequent.
Until eventually, she stopped coming at all. Every time one of us would call or text her to ask where she was or what was wrong, she either answered with an extremely dry response or didn’t even bother to answer at all.
Chris and Nick constantly bombarded me with questions, asking what the fuck happened in the car that night and I just told them I had no clue, never mentioning her “secret.” Whenever Mark came around, it only annoyed me, having to see his face instead of hers.
He acted like it didn’t really matter if she was there or not, which aggravated me. He avoided questions of where or how she was. He seemed to have the time of his life without her around. I could tell he never appreciated her, never took care of her the way she actually deserved, and most likely didn’t satisfy her in the way she needed.
I knew it was wrong, but I started to despise my best friend. I felt like a jealous teenager in high school again, but I just couldn’t get her out of my thoughts, especially now that I had no clue as to why she stopped coming around. I constantly thought about our last conversation, and if her big secret had anything to do with me.
Why else would she bring it up to me? I started to obsess over it, over her. Thoughts and pictures of her while I touched myself in my bed, in the shower, fuck, even on the couch when no one was home, wasn’t enough. It was pathetic. I needed to see her.
It was 2 a.m., the moon hung brightly in the sky, illuminating the dark night. There weren’t many people out on the streets, and I had the car windows rolled down, the brisk spring air feeling cool against my face.
I’m not sure what the fuck I was doing, all I knew, was that I couldn’t sit at home anymore. I originally intended to go for a night drive to clear my head, but instead, I found myself driving to her house.
I’m not even sure what I planned on doing when I got there. I couldn’t tell her I was coming, given the fact that my calls were currently going straight to her voicemail, and I for damn sure wasn’t going to knock on her door. She definitely didn’t want to see me if she couldn’t even bother to answer the phone.
So, I awkwardly parked across the street from her apartment complex. The light in her bedroom window shone, and I could see clearly into it because her curtains were open. Her apartment was on the first floor, near the street, a couple trees surrounding it but if you were in the right spot, you could see most of the room.
I had only been over a couple times, with my brothers and Jackson when we decided to have movie night there. It was always a running joke how easily someone could spy on her if she left her curtains open, and now here I was, doing the exact same thing.
She sat on her bed, her lugs tucked under her, computer on her lap. Her hair was tied up in a messy bun, her pajamas on. She looked content, focused on whatever she was working on.
I felt like such a fucking creep.
If Chris and Nick knew what I was currently doing, they would have me taken away to the loony bin in a strait jacket for sure.
I convinced myself this was insane and was about to drive away when I saw Mark enter through her bedroom door, and she got up, setting her computer down and putting her arms around him in a hug. His hands wrapped around her waist, nuzzling his head into her neck.
My heart raced in my chest, my cheeks flushing at seeing them together. The anger was radiating off me as I watched them embrace for a few more seconds and then kiss, moving down to her bed. It was like watching a car crash, it was horrible, but I couldn’t look away.
He lay down next to her, holding her while she laid her head on his chest. I could still see her face.
She looked happy.
I never drove off so fast in my life. I couldn’t bear to watch one more second and I felt disgusting for even intruding on her private moment like that.
It was hard to sleep that night, my mind racing with thoughts of his hands on her, touching her in the ways I so desperately wanted.
As crazy as it was, I found myself going back a few more times, on the nights where I just couldn’t get her off my mind. Thankfully, he wasn’t there, and I would stay for a few minutes, just watching while she worked, read or scrolled aimlessly on her phone. She looked so beautiful, and all I wanted was to be there with her, even if it meant sitting in my car across the street like an absolute maniac.
And to my surprise when she finally came over again after three excruciating long weeks, I couldn’t just tell her I had been stalking her at least once a week. But her body language and the way she got so nervous when I asked her why she had been ignoring me, made it click in my head. The tension between us, and the night she brought up a “secret.” She had to have feelings like I did.
So, I had to confront her, and when she kissed me back, it only confirmed to me what she felt.
But that had been a week ago, and I was back to pining over her, not hearing from her since then.
Until Jackson called on a Friday night, asking me and Nick to come over to her house where they were having game night. Chris had left earlier that day for plans he had made with some of his friends.
As we pulled into her apartment complex, it was embarrassing how excited I was to see her again. I knew I had to get her alone somehow and talk to her about last week.
Nick knocked on the door, it opening to reveal her behind it, looking gorgeous as ever. Her hair was down, her natural curls falling, and she was in a pair of tiny shorts and a plain tank top, a bright smile on her face and her cheeks tinted with a light blush when she saw me.
God, I wanted nothing more then to pin her against the wall right now, ripping off those shorts she was teasing me with and tell her all the ways I could ruin her.
My dick was already straining in my pants as we walked in, sitting around her kitchen table. I forced myself to calm down, thinking of sad puppies and make a wish kids.
There was already a game of Uno started when we joined in and Nick immediately announced he would win, causing Jackson to get serious. They were annoyingly competitive.
It was hard to focus on the game though, as Y/N was staring at me, teeth sinking into her bottom lip like she was contemplating something. I tried really hard to participate, but I felt my self-resolve slipping as I stared back, letting my eyes roam over her body. Her bare thighs squished together on the chair, her shirt riding up slightly, showing the skin of her hips.
It took everything in me not to audibly groan, the desire coursing through my veins. I had to figure out a way to get her alone, and my thoughts continued to wander when I heard her voice pull me back to reality. “Matt?”
My head snapped up, and her eyebrows were raised in expectation, everyone now looking at me.
“Yeah?” I asked, realizing I was too in my head earlier to hear her the first time.
“I said, I need to talk to you.” She replied, getting up from the table and setting her cards down. She walked to her room and my heart jumped as I got up as well, following her.
“Anyways…. Where were we...” I heard Nick say to Jackson, his voice fading as I stepped into her room down the hall, shutting the door behind me.
She stood a few feet away from me as I stayed near the door, unsure if I should move any closer. My heart was pounding so hard I could hear it in my ears.
Finally, she spoke, her voice a little shaky. “Matt, I want to talk about what happened.”
“Okay.” I say, gaining the courage to move towards her and her arms are down by her side, clutching onto the hem of her shorts nervously.
“I’m not sure this is a good idea… I mean- obviously, it’s not.” She says and I now stand a few inches from her, close enough to feel the warmth radiating between us.
“It’s not.” I reply and her eyes flicker from mine to my lips. I can see the black of her pupils expanding, the pulse in her neck jumping.
“And I want to do the right thing…” she continues, and I can’t help but attach my hands to her hips, like they have a mind of their own, causing her to pause in her words.
My thumbs brush over the bare skin there between her shirt and her shorts, rubbing mindless circles. The energy bouncing back and forth is almost too intense, our faces now dangerously close.
“Y/N. There’s absolutely nothing wrong you can do in my eyes.” I tell her and she sighs, her breath fanning against my lips, her arms now coming up to wrap around my neck, her body relaxing into me.
There’s a lot that needs to be said, feelings to unpack, and things we need to discuss. I know that. She knows that. But right now, in this moment, the only thing I can think about, the only thing I can feel is her.
“Just let me show you, please. Let me make you feel good, Y/N.” I breathe, tightening my hands around her waist and she crashes her lips onto mine, tongues meshing and teeth clashing as we kiss for the second time, even more desperate than the last.
Our lips move in sync, smacking sounds filling the room. Her hands tug on my hair as I pull her bottom lip between my teeth, sucking, and she moans into my mouth. I trail my lips down her jaw, onto her neck, breathing in her scent. “You smell so fucking good.” I say, holding her even tighter to me and I feel her nipples harden through her shirt as I suck on her neck harshly, flicking my tongue after to soothe it, leaving the beginning of bruises on her soft skin.
I hope he fucking sees them.
“Matt…” She whimpers, pulling on my hair again, making me groan against her. I’ve never been harder than I am right now, her sounds and smell intoxicating, the feeling of her supple hips in my hands. I grip them, moving her to the bed and hover on top of her, attaching my lips to hers once more.
I rest most of my weight on my arm on one side of her, the other placed gently on the side of her neck. She wraps her legs around my waist, and I grind down on her, the friction making us both moan out.
“Matt, the door.” She says breathlessly, panting against my mouth as we continue to grind on each other, the feeling too good to stop. At this point, anyone could interrupt us.
“Mm, you scared, baby? Scared someone’s gonna walk in and see what I’m doing to you?” I tease, my hand running down her chest, grazing over the valley of her breasts and resting on her stomach, right above her shorts.
She moans at my words, and I smirk, leaning down to whisper in her ear while my hand continues to explore her body, massaging her tits and running over her curves. “You like that? Does it feel good knowing I finally get you all to myself?”
“Fuck, Matt...” She sighs, her nails digging into my shoulder. The way she says my name alone could make me cum in my pants, but I want nothing more than to make her scream it, burying my cock deep inside her. “I bet you’re soaking.” I say, running my hand down to her shorts, unbuttoning them. She bites her lip in anticipation and bucks her hips up. I pin them down, making her stay still.
“Be a good girl for me, yeah?” I tell her, and the submissive look in her eyes has my cock throbbing.
She nods, and I slide her shorts off, exposing her red cotton panties. There’s a visible wet spot forming, and I groan aloud from the sight. I slide down the bed a little bit, positioning myself lower, my shoulders between her legs, spreading them open for me. I look up at her before I continue, and there’s nothing but lust in her eyes, her cheeks flushed, and lips swollen.
“You’re so beautiful, sweetheart. Is this okay? Can I take these off?” I ask her, placing my hands around the hem of her panties.
“Yes, please.” She says sweetly, making my heart ache in my chest. I waste no time sliding them off her, discarding them on the floor and she whines at the cool air now exposing her. I sink my teeth into my bottom lip, admiring her. She’s perfect, better than I ever imagined, and I spread her folds, applying a light pressure as I slick my fingers through her wetness. She moans loudly and moves her hips again, squirming from my touch.
I grab them roughly, pinning her down once more and she whines when I remove my fingers from her. “Shhh, you have to be quiet baby. Can you do that for me?” She groans softly and nods her head, closing her eyes and laying her head back. I know at any moment, Nick or Jackson could walk in or hear the sinful acts I’m about to do to her, but I simply don’t give a fuck. I didn’t want to put her in that situation, yet the thrill of it turned me on more than anything.
“Uh uh. Keep your eyes on me. You look away or make one noise and I stop. You understand?” I demanded, pressing my hands into her thighs firmly, holding her open for me. She snaps her head up and sits up to rest on her elbows, licking her lips and nodding her head. The smirk on her face drives me crazy.
“Yes, Matt. I’ll be good.” She says and an idea suddenly sparks in my head when I see a tie on her bedside table. It must be Mark’s. My ego swells as I snatch it, her eyes widening when I stuff it in her mouth, tying the back of it around her head.
“Is that okay?” I confirm and she nods, biting down on the tie. I take my place back down between her thighs, laying on the bed and run two fingers up and down her slit before pushing it into her slowly. “Fuck, you’re so tight.” I moan, mesmerized at the sight of her wet hole squeezing around my fingers. She was already dripping, the sounds of her arousal echoing through the room as I started to pump them in and out of her.
She breathes hard through her nose, her eyes threatening to roll back in her head as I watch her, thrusting my fingers a few times before I pull them out and replace it with my tongue, tasting her for the first time.
She tasted incredible, a taste I could get addicted to. I massage her gummy walls, burying my face as deep in her pussy as I could, my thumb making small, tight circles on her clit. I hear her whine softly and one of her hands comes up to pull on my hair, making me moan against her.
 I move faster, my hands now gripping her hips as I let her ride my tongue. She’s so fucking hot and I can’t help but thrust down into her mattress, the feeling of her body unravelling and shaking beneath me.
I thrust my fingers back into her, pressing against the spongy spot as I curl them, and she moans lightly, her face contorted in pleasure, tears forming in her eyes from the frustration. “Are you close baby?” I say and she nods feverishly, her eyes desperate, and drool starting to pool down her chin form the tie in her mouth. “Its okay, sweetheart, you can lay back. Let me take care of it.”
She collapses on the bed, my fingers moving at a faster pace now, and throws her head back in ecstasy, small moans escaping her. I press my lips around her clit and suck, her back arching off the bed. She clenches around my fingers, whining frantically as she’s seconds away from her release.
“You’re doing so good for me... I want you to cum on my fingers, you can do it baby.” I praise and seconds later her arousal leaks out, dripping down my hand, my fingers still moving as she orgasms, panting relentlessly and I press light kisses on her inner thigh.
Holy shit, why didn’t I ever do this before? If I get the chance to do more, I’ll never stop.
Her legs are shaking as I pull my fingers out, massaging her with my other hand as she catches her breath. I sit up and help her take off the tie, smoothing her hair back from her face, and kiss her.
“Oh my god, Matt…” She starts, and I hold her face in my hands, looking into her eyes but before she can continue, there’s a knock on the door.
“Matthew! What the fuck is taking so long?! We’ve played literally 8 rounds of Uno already!!” Nick shouts and she laughs, her face reddening in embarrassment.
She gets up to clean herself before I can even help her and gets dressed. Suddenly I’m pulled back into reality, our little bubble of pleasure bursted. My heart sinks when I’m reminded, she’s not mine. We’ve only dug ourselves deeper into this hole we’ve created.
But as me and Nick drive back to the house later, all I can think about is when and how I can get my hands on her again.
a/n: the dots are connecting…. the plot is PLOTTING
also, sorry if the time jumps back and forth between parts confuse you guys, i just thought it would make it more interesting to introduce both of their povs
taglist: (thank you to everyone who requested, commented and liked, i appreciate each and every single one!!!!! 🩷🩷🩷) if i forgot anyone please lmk!
@sturniolopepsi @tillies33ssss @whicked-hazlatwhore @riasturns @christhopersturniolo @junnniiieee07 @junovrsmp4 @sturnsjtop @seahorsie11 @inveigledvex @honestlyjb @mattslolita @stingerayyy2 @glassesmattsbae @eryismum
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imasoftieforbarb · 1 year ago
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i love the little fic u made of my request and you asked if the readers would like a part 2 AND IM SORRY IF IM BEING TO DELUSIONAL BUT
IF YOU HAVE TIME AND WANT TO OFC COULD U DO THE PART 2, I LOVE YOUR WORK SM I MEAN IT 😭⁉️
HERE COMES PART 2‼️
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We’re gonna get into the movie stuff now
John Dory comes to check out Mount Rageous
As he makes his way through the ventilation he hears crying- but it doesn’t sound like Floyd so he moves on (a bit guiltily)
Once he finds Floyd (and lands face first on the dresser)
John Dory groaned as he pulled himself off the floor in a hurry “Yo! Floyd!”
Floyd looked up from his lap as his eyes widened “John dory? I cant believe it!” Floyd pressed his hands against the wall of his prison “I never thought I’d see any of my brothers again”
John Dory smiled before pressing his hand up to the glass in confidence
“Don’t worry bro I’m gonna get you out of here”
“No! You need to get out of here!” Floyd said urgently “you don’t understand- Velvet and Veneer are giant, pop obsessed succubi with NO talent and they’ve been stealing mine and Y/n’s- it’s only a matter of time now until they come back for more!”
John Dory thought to himself “Y/n? Like our old manager and childhood best friend Y/n? But- why did they take her?”
Floyd sighed to himself, misplaced guilt eating at him a bit “when you guys left, she followed me and after a bit we ended up confessing-“
“I KNEW YOU HAD FEELINGS FOR HER-“
“Shhhhhhh!” Floyd shushed his brother, though he couldn’t deny the smile on his face- he had missed this
“So she’s here?” John Dory said looking around, “I don’t see her anywhere!”
“She got taken by Velvet- as like a personal back up! I don’t know where she is- but if shes having her talent drained she won’t last as long, she isn’t a trained singer JD! I’m worried”
“Don’t worry bro- I’ll get both of you out-!”
JD tried many tricks to try and crack the prison his brother was in but to no luck
“It’s made out of diamond- and there’s only one thing that’s strong enough to shatter diamond” Floyd hoped his brother got the clue-
“A diamond shattering diamond hammer! Where do we get one of those?”
It went way over his head
“No, the only thing strong enough to shatter diamond is the perfect family harmony” Floyd said giving his brother a look of humour
“Of course! The prefect family harmony!”
Floyd nodded looking at his brother with tired but hopeful eyes until-
“Our voices sound like GARBAGE! We need more TROLL!”
“Run John Dory- save yourself” Floyd urged, not wanting to get his brother captured
John Dory nodded, grappling back to the vent and shouting that he’d be back with the rest of the family
During the rescue mission you’re nowhere to be found
Floyd’s theory is correct and you are drained far to quickly-
You turn into a crystal troll just before the rage dome show
Velvet decides to put you in her pocket like a little good luck charm
The perfect family harmony works and shatters the diamond perfectly
Floyd thinking of you as he sings the last line
“Just let me take you to a better place!”
When he wakes up from his crystal form and has a moment with his brothers he looks around and doesn’t see you anywhere
“John Dory, where’s Y/n?”
Everybody starts looking around not being able to see you
Not even Crimp knows where you are
“Velvet! Where’s the other troll? The one you took as a backup?” Veneer said, after confessing that they were frauds
“Oh her? She drained far to fast so I gave her another use” velvet stated- pulling you out of her pocket “she’s my little good luck charm- though she didn’t work so she’s useless to me now”
Floyd gasped, tears finally spilling over as he takes in your completely crystallised form in shock
“No… Nononono”
Veneer snatches you off velvet and hands you to the group of trolls on the floor with remorse
“Y/n? Come on- this cant be happening!”
Floyd brings you into a hug- sobbing as he realises there’s no hope for you
You, though crystallised, can hear everything around you
You try to open your eyes but they’re so heavy
“You can’t do this to me- not after everything we’ve been through together, it’s my fault” Floyd stated through his tears “I just want you back.”
Everyone looks down in sadness, shedding their own tears as they mourn with Floyd
Then
The darkness starts to fade from your vision as you blink a few times
You raise your hand to his face, startling him
“You’re so silly”
you say weakly, watching his eyes tear up again- this time from happiness and disbelief
“You never lost me in the first place”
He brings you into a kiss- putting all of his emotions into it
The crowd cheers as they realise you’re alive and as velvet and veneer are taken away in cuffs
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faith-forgxtten-land · 8 months ago
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Blush | Leonardo
this isn't me being modest or fishing for compliments, but i found writing this surprisingly difficult to write for some reason? and i'm not exactly ecstatic with how it ended up, but i've spent a while trying to edit and improve it (and of course tumblr decided to not save my edits, TWICE) and i honestly think this is as good as it's going to get because the more i edit and worry over it, the more difficult it becomes! with that said, i do hope you enjoy it!!
2007 universe!!
warnings: making out? there's not much honestly, leo being a little unhinged and possessive? she/her pronouns used once or twice, everyone is 18+!!
summary: leo likes it a little too much when you blush
word count: 1930 (honestly surprised by the length)
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
The first time you meet the turtles, you feel faint even after all the preparation you've done with April. She'd told you all about them, yet she hadn't mentioned how intimidating and handsome they were, and you stumble over your introductions, stuttering and blushing, feeling small and unimpressive, like you're back to being a schoolgirl with an unattainable crush.
You have to repeat your name, your shy mumbles too quiet even for their mutant hearing, and you flush as Leonardo smiles patiently at you and ignores Raphael’s eyeroll. Donatello is kind and tells you to not to take his brother’s grumpiness to heart, and Michelangelo talks so much that you don’t have to for the rest of the evening.
From then on, Leo makes an effort to be kind to you; he's always patiently listening to you even as you trip over words, especially on the days where you can barely glance in his direction without blushing, leaning close and bestowing you with an intense attention you're not sure you'll ever get used to. 
And maybe sometimes Leo plays up how soft-spoken you are. You are quiet, and you do have a tendency to mumble your words, yes, but he’s not deaf and he really doesn’t need to invade your personal space as often as he does. It’s just so cute the way you fluster without fail every time he leans in, his breath fanning against your face as he asks you to repeat yourself. 
His brothers and your aunt aren’t as oblivious as you; Donnie shoots him pointed looks that he pointedly ignores, Raph’s eyes are permanently rolling, and by now Mikey, who had initially been supportive, has begun to find it sickening, miming puking in the background each time Leo so much as looks in your direction. Even Splinter has joined in, completely unsubtle in his offhand mentioning of grandchildren whenever he sees the both of you, whether you’re alone or together. And April... well, she had cornered him in the dojo and promised that he'd be running back to the rainforest she found him in if he ever did you wrong. 
He had no intention of ever hurting you, or letting anyone else hurt you, for that matter. You’re just so endearing; so precious and shy, a snowflake that has yet to feel heat, and he so desperately wants to be the only one to light that fire within you and watch you melt.
Perhaps it's a little obsessive, but everything you do, usually unknowingly, draws him in like a moth to a flame. And it’s a little mean, maybe, the way he delights as you fluster and flush with only the tiniest hints of encouragement from him, but it sends a thrill through him each time. You’re so shy, so innocent and trusting, it’s impossible for him not to take advantage of that (even if April’s threats ring in his ears whenever he does).
So he invites you over, a movie night with just the two of you because of course Mikey is busy doing something silly and senseless that you won't be interested in, and you know Donnie's always busy doing something painfully nerdy that's way too boring to be fun, and Raph is busy doing something boneheaded with Casey that's far too dangerous.
It's just you and Leo.
You're both quiet for the most part, but keenly aware of each other's presence. It would be impossible for him to miss the way you practically stop breathing whenever his leg brushes oh-so lightly against yours, and he knows you're not paying much attention to the movie because he isn't either, and you're not exactly subtle with the way your eyes keep flicking away from the screen to sneak a peek when you think he isn't looking. 
The eleventh time you do this, he decides enough is enough, and lets his eyes catch yours.
He keeps eye contact for a little too long to be casual, heart racing at the way your eyes dart away awkwardly but seemingly can’t resist finding his again no matter how embarrassed you feel. God, you’re so cute, he wants to squish your cheeks and eat you alive. He must not be doing a very good job at hiding that desire because Donnie shoots him a warning look as he passes by to grab something from the kitchen, and Leo elects to ignore it, sticking his foot out suddenly and smiling innocently as his brother stumbles and glowers but continues his walk without comment.
He slides his arm casually over the back of the couch when he’s certain you’re alone again, unable to cover his smirk as you stiffen and your breath hitches. He’s not even touching you and he wants to laugh at how innocent you are; he feels like a wolf waiting to pounce on a lamb and it really shouldn’t excite him this much. The thought makes him shuffle just a little closer, disguising his movements as a casual adjustment in his seating. He flashes you a kind smile. “You okay?”
Your smile in return is tight and nervous, and you can’t bring yourself to make eye contact this time. You nod quickly, not trusting yourself to speak without humiliating yourself further. That, of course, is ruined as Leo drops his hand to the bare skin of your shoulder from where your shirt has slipped, rubbing your warm skin gently. You jump, a squeak slipping past your lips, and you feel your face grow even hotter.
Leo looks at you with feigned concern, lips rolled together to hide his grin, pushing an earnest façade to conceal his amusement. Your skin is so soft, he thinks, brushing his fingers over it again. “You sure?”
You swallow thickly as his palm flattens and trails towards your neck. “Y-yes.”
He’s even closer now, muscled thigh pressed against yours as he peers at you. “You’re looking a little flushed…”
You look up and meet his unfaltering stare; his eyes are dark, pupils eclipsing warm brown irises, and you feel like they’re swallowing you whole the longer you get lost in his gaze. His hand slides up and you shudder as he cups your jaw gently. There’s only an inch or so between your faces now, and you’re not sure when you got so close, but it’s hard to focus on anything other than the rush of blood in your ears as your heart beats erratically. “Leo,” you whisper uncertainly, and his eyes darken before he presses his lips to yours.
You’re still for a moment, frozen as butterflies flutter so violently in your stomach you think you might vomit – which would be the most mortifying thing to ever happen to you (and you’ve had a lot of mortifying things happen to you) and you might have to take a leaf out of Leo’s book and head to Central America and cut all contact with everyone you know.
You're not really sure what you're doing, and your actions feel delayed, like you're moving in slow motion or you're underwater and your movements are sluggish despite your best efforts, but you must be doing something right because he groans quietly against your mouth and the sound makes your abdomen clench. He pulls back and your lips are tingling as he catches his breath. 
He looks the way you feel; a mess, flushed with his chest heaving, and you feel a little smug even as you blush further when he smirks at you. He doesn’t say anything, just keeps smirking at you because he’s insufferable like that, and you realise he’s waiting for you to meet his eyes. 
It's a Herculean effort, but you manage to return his heated stare. 
“I want it all.” Leo is gazing into your eyes in complete seriousness and, as much as you want to look away and bury your face into your hands, something keeps you transfixed.
"All?" It's a miracle that you find your voice, even if it's the weakest it's ever sounded, wheezing and as soft as the skin under his calloused palms.
Leo's eyes somehow darken further. "This isn't just a game to me, or a one-time thing. I want everything with you."
You swallow the reticence that threatens to burst from your throat and lick your lips, the taste of his own a heavy weight against yours. His eyes follow the movement, the intensity of his stare making you feel dizzy. “I’ve never done this before,” you admit, heat crawling up your neck. “I’ve never even been in a relationship before."
Leo smiles at you, a knowing curve of his lips, crooked and tender with a hint of mirth, eyes dancing across every inch of your face with your admission as if he can’t decide which spot deserves his attention more. “I want to be your first and last,” he says honestly, voice a little uneven as if he hasn’t yet caught his breath after your kiss.
He’s nervous, you realise, cheeks darker than usual and inflicted with the same timidity that's nestled in your chest – not that he’ll admit to it. His eyes keep flitting about, not in a loving caress, but in a nervy flutter. You make him nervous. You can’t stop the giggle that leaves your lips and, almost instantly, Leo’s nervousness melts away as he raises a non-existent brow. “Something funny?”
Your face is flushed, and you can feel that shyness threatening to rear its head, but you push through and beam a little bashfully at him. “I want that too. I want it all. With you."
Leo blinks slowly and leans in close again. It takes everything within you not to pull away; your face is scorching, and you wonder if it’s actually possible to burn your skin from blushing so fiercely. “Can I kiss you?” His voice is lower than normal, soft and rough at once, deep and dark like it’s filtered through gravel and dripped in honey at the same time, and you kind of want to faint.
“Haven't you already?” you mumble, eyes dropping from his as another wave of heat rushes to your face, resolutely staring just beyond the turtle that’s practically on top of you.
Leo laughs softly, hand on your jaw once more and directing your embarrassed gaze to him. He’s smiling wide and then he’s kissing you again.
It’s still sloppy and tentative, you’re still entirely unsure of what you’re doing and it’s almost embarrassing enough to make you retreat, but then his tongue, long and thick, traces the seal of your lips in question and your brain shuts-down. Hesitantly, you answer, your own tongue shy as it brushes against his and easily forfeits the short fight for dominance, letting him lick your mouth with practiced ease. Any remnants of anxiety over your own inexperience dissipate with every flick of his skilled tongue, and you melt into his embrace.
“Oh my god, Leo’s eating her face.”
Leo pulls back and you squawk, mortified and covering your face as embers of confidence sputter, fleeing from you while Mikey dramatically projectile vomits his nunchucks across the room where they hit the wall with a thud. Your face is on fire, and you die a little on the inside as you realise that the glistening around Leo's mouth is mostly your spit. 
You die a little more and make a mental note to book a flight to Costa Rica when Splinter arrives to investigate the commotion, his son still pressed against you on the couch, and simply murmurs about grandchildren before winking at you.
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theturtlelovers · 7 months ago
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𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙻𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙴𝚡𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎
Pairing: Mikey/GN!Reader Rating: Everyone Contents: Mikey is the first to get a partner, Donnie's a bit weird, but we still love him, Splinter loves soap operas Warnings: None, really? Wordcount: 1,386
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Notes: Guess who's back! Back again! ♪(┌・。・)┌ Finally, after one too many years!
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Mikey's heart soared when he entered a relationship with his significant other. Overflowing with excitement and joy, he celebrated the transition from friends to partners, ending a period of mutual uncertainty. Even his older brothers and sensei, who had been quietly rooting for the two of you to get together for almost a year, let out sighs of relief. What he once feared was unrequited affection had blossomed into a loving relationship. As they embarked on the honeymoon phase, Mikey believed this blissful period would never end. He felt incredibly fortunate to have his best friend as his partner in crime.
Mikey had always been your friend, adhering to the principle of friendship first before exploring any romantic possibilities. Yet, things were different now—more intimate and personal. With mischievous chuckles (huehuehue), he could do things he couldn't before without raising eyebrows. Mikey could hug you just because, plant kisses on your head, and shower you with compliments, all while grinning from ear to ear as he watched you blush, trying to return the favor. It felt like, in those moments, he fell in love with you all over again simply because he could finally give you the affection you deserved.
At first, Mikey was too absorbed in your newfound relationship to notice, but his brothers were watching him. And weirdly so.
Whenever you came over for movie marathons, Donnie would emerge from his lab intermittently. Coincidentally, he always seemed to be peeking around the corner during your debates or when you and Mikey were theorizing about a new movie's plot. Initially, Mikey wanted to say something because it felt like Donnie was intruding on his time with you. However, he was more relieved that the usually work-obsessed Donnie was taking a break from his screens, even if it meant eavesdropping on your conversations. At least they weren't personal ones.
Raph, on the other hand, was thankfully more discreet. He didn't pop up out of nowhere like some sort of gopher to intrude on Mikey's private moments with you. Instead, Raph observed from a distance when you two were in more public settings. He tried to be subtle, stealing glances at how Mikey leaned in close to hear you at the dinner table, the way he smirked in a failed attempt to hide his giggles at an inside joke, or how he gently nudged you aside with a soft "pardon me, angel-cakes," holding your hip as he reached for something and then carefully moving you back. At times, a fleeting flash of envy would appear in Raph's eyes as he watched, but it would quickly vanish, replaced by an unreadable expression.
Leo was a different story altogether. He was certainly more direct than his other two brothers. He would openly ask Mikey questions, sometimes subtly weaving them into their conversations. Other times, he would just blurt them out, regardless of how out of pocket they might seem. It took Mikey quite a while to catch on to Leo's unusual questioning.
Eventually, Mikey sought out Splinter, thoroughly weirded out by his older brothers' antics—if he could even call them that. "Hey, Sensei?" The aging rat turned his gaze from watching his soap opera. "What’s the matter, my son?"
Mikey’s lips pressed into a thin line. "Have you by chance noticed the way the others have been acting?"
"Ah, you must be referring to the way they have been observing you." Splinter caressed his beard, which had recently been braided, courtesy of you spending time with him earlier that day. Mikey smiled fondly seeing it as he sat down on the couch next to him.
"So I haven’t been making it up then!"
"Indeed. It makes sense why they would want to watch you, though."
Huh? "What- why? But I’m not doing anything crazy that’s out of my usual."
Splinter’s dark eyes gazed at his youngest, who was so intuitive yet naive. "Perhaps you are not. However, you are the first amongst your brothers to be experiencing a romantic relationship."
That made Mikey pause. He understood the implication, yet at the same time, he couldn't quite grasp why it mattered. So he just went, "Huh, I guess that makes sense," and did a slow nod. Why did he go to his dad again? He should have known that Splinter's wise words often left him more confused than before.
Mikey eventually grasped the meaning behind his father's words during one of your weekend movie nights at your place. With no work in the morning, you both were engrossed in a marathon of the John Wick series. For once, Mikey's attention was more on the movie than on you, and it was as if a gentle tap on his brain brought him to a realization.
He was setting the example for his brothers. Although it took him a while to come to this conclusion, he was relieved that it didn't require any dramatic arguments or life-threatening situations. It was just John Wick fighting for the memory of his late wife that sparked the insight. Oh. OH!
The staring and the questions all made sense now. None of his older brothers had lovers of their own, and there wasn’t a reference for mutants in romantic relationships, so they were looking to him as some form of guidance. And Splinter, bless his soul, while a great father and the closest male role model a rat can be, had no personal experience in romance either, not unless you count his addiction to soap operas. It was nerve-wracking because that also meant he couldn’t turn to them for help. As the youngest turtle in his close-knit family, Mikey was used to having his older brothers handle the tough stuff for him. This arrangement never troubled him; it allowed him more freedom to pursue his interests. However, with a newfound understanding of the sacrifices his brothers made on his behalf, Mikey felt a mix of offense and gratitude. Initially, he questioned if their actions stemmed from a belief in his incompetence. Upon further reflection, though, he realized their motives were pure—they simply wanted to keep him safe and shield him from the stress that came from such burdens.
Previously, Mikey's focus was more lighthearted, free from the heavier burdens his brothers carried—Leo tasked with ensuring everyone's safety, Donnie charged with maintaining their tech and home in peak condition, and Raph driven to fortify their resilience against any challenge. Yet, Mikey found himself considering not just his own well-being but yours as well.
His brothers weren't the ones committed to you; he was. Mikey was your turtle, your other half. It was his responsibility to fight for you, care for you, and love you until it felt like his heart would bleed for you. Later that night, as he held you close to his plastron and basked in your scent, he made vows that only he could hear.
As time passed, Mikey became more open, allowing his brothers to see how he navigated his relationship or talking about you whenever you were brought up. Not that Mikey minded—he loved any opportunity to talk about you.
“Yeah, we’ve been going stargazing together.” “But you don’t care about stars, Mikey?”
“True, but I do now because (Y/n) likes them.”
He showed that it’s okay to be vulnerable. It's alright not to always have everything under control because it's the two of you against any problem. He showed it's fine to engage in activities like painting nails or sharing quirky moments together. Supporting them through everyday tasks like doing laundry, preparing dinner, or simply listening to them vent about the latest work gossip is valuable. And it's okay to let them know you love them and that he's just a call away if they ever need help.
His brothers seemed to appreciate that—and you, since you received equal effort from him—because one by one they each eventually found someone to call their own. And gradually, each one found someone special in their lives. Surprisingly, they all turned to him for advice, one after the other. It was an unfamiliar role for Mikey, being the giver rather than the receiver of guidance. He wondered, was this how Splinter and Leo felt most of the time?
Huh… being the leading example sure was satisfying.
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Tagging: @whygz, @brightlotusmoon, @mrghostings Interested in getting tagged? Come check it out!
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Like what you read? Check out my masterlist to see if you find anything else!
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elikajinnie · 9 months ago
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You Know You Should Not Have Survived That, Right? | Ghostface!Heeseung x fem!reader PART 2
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PART 2 OF 4 Pairing: Ghostface!LeeHeeseung X Fem!reader
Please read Part 1 before proceeding if you haven`t already!
Genre: Romance, Horror/Thriller
Wordcount: 35k
Warnings: Swearing (Offensive words), Stalking, Obsessive behaviour, possessive behaviour, Blood/Injury, Violence, Graphic depictions of injury, Attempted murder, Murder, Mental health struggles, Family struggles, Self confidence issues, Bullying, Kidnapping, Jealousy, Alcohol and Drug use, Heeseung kinda goes feral?? does that count as a warning? !!KINDA MATURE CONTENT!! Minors beware!!
a/n: It took awhile to finish this chapter, but i finally dug myself out of the writing block i had and completed. So this chapter is longer then the second, combined together the fic has an estimated wordcount of 48k. Some scenes have been inspired from the Scream movies and The Slumber Party Massacre. I do not take any credit from that, so be free to check them out. I also wanna personally thank my pookies for giving me motivation to finish it <3 ANyways! Enjoy this long ass chapter :3
REMEMBER!; This is purely fictional and just for fun. I do not wish any harm upon any characters.
Important note!
When in costume Heeseung will be described as Ghostface when they do not know his identity.
The dialouges are kinda cheesy at times and suck so dont mind it.
⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅
You sat in the cold, sterile room of the police station, the fluorescent lights flickering overhead. The air was heavy with tension, and the room echoed with the hushed conversations of officers and the distant ring of phones. The chair beneath you felt uncomfortable, but you held yourself with crossed arms, gaze fixed on the waiting area where grief-stricken families sought solace in their shared sorrow.
Your eyes, however, betrayed no tears. The well of grief within you had been drained, leaving only an unsettling emptiness. Yeji's family and your own were engulfed in a sea of tears, but you couldn't bring yourself to join their sorrow. The pain had numbed you, turning your emotions into a distant echo of what they once were. And, to make matters worse, the perpetrators of Yeji's death claimed innocence, painting it as an accident and an act of self-defense. A bitter scoff escaped your thoughts—self-defense, yeah right.
Heeseung, had confessed that he never intended to harm Yeji, planning to leave her alive. However, that plan unraveled in chaos when the police arrived, turning the night into what the media dubbed The Nightfall Homicide. The name seemed eerily fitting, a descriptor for the tragedy that had unfolded.
In the cramped room, you listened to the officer's questions, his words a distant hum in your ears. The memories of that night, now tainted with the knowledge of Heeseung's double life, clouded your responses. You found yourself withholding the truth, a newfound reluctance to reveal the dark secret that had unfolded in that secluded hut.
"I told you, we were partying," you recited mechanically, your voice betraying none of the turmoil within. "I went to the bathroom, came back, and the chaos had erupted. The police arrived, shot Yeji, and I blacked out from the shock. Woke up in the forest and walked back. I don't remember anything more." The officer nodded, accepting your words, though a subtle skepticism lingered in his gaze.
As you exited the room, your younger brother, Kyungmin, lunged at you, wrapping his arms around you in a desperate hug. His plea not to die clung to the air, and you reassured him with a murmur. The weight of the situation pressed on your shoulders as you shifted your gaze to the adjacent room, where Heeseung sat, a striking contrast to the stark police station backdrop. His presence alone seemed to make the air thicker, your breath hitching as your eyes locked onto his. He occupied the chair with an unsettling ease, facing directly towards you, his posture exuding a disconcerting nonchalance. Legs casually spread, he idly played with a coin between his fingers.
Your unease intensified as you noticed his intense gaze fixed solely on you. The officer conducting the interview seemed oblivious to the silent exchange, engrossed in paperwork or perhaps wilfully ignorant of the tension building in the room. Heeseung tilted his head, a smirk dancing on his lips, a chilling expression that sent shivers down your spine. A gulp caught in your throat as he toyed with you, his eyes narrowing in a way that suggested an unspoken challenge.
The momentary confrontation shattered as the officer redirected their attention back to Heeseung. His smirk vanished instantly, replaced by a mask of innocence, as if he were hanging on every word the officer uttered. The speed at which he shifted his expressions, from smirking provocatively to feigning cooperation, sent a chill down your spine. It was unnerving, the way he effortlessly danced between personas.
The clarity dawned on you—the stark absence of his scent, the lingering touch of his hands, and the distant memory of his lips on yours allowed your mind to untangle itself from the web of emotions. As you watched him, questions echoed loudly in your mind, demanding answers that seemed elusive in the fog of uncertainty. Why was Heeseung a killer? What drove him to act this way, and why did he reserve a special kind of attention for you?
Your heart and brain waged war within you, locked in a relentless battle. The dissonance between the memories of his affection and the grim reality of his actions created a storm in your mind, leaving you standing at the center, grappling with the aftermath of a truth that shattered the illusion of who you thought he was.
⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅
The room was bathed in the soft glow of a lone lamp, casting shadows that danced along the walls. You sat at your desk, notebook open, pen in hand, attempting to immerse yourself in schoolwork. The day had been long, emotions running all over the place, and sleep felt elusive. Your family had retired to their beds, asleep, but you found yourself unable to succumb to the embrace of slumber.
Two distinct knocks on your window disrupted the quiet of your room. Your head snapped towards the source of the sound, confusion etched on your face. You cautiously approached the window, pulling aside the curtains to peer into the darkness outside. The moon's feeble light offered little clarity, and you hesitated before opening the window to investigate further.
A figure materialized before you, and with an involuntary yelp, you stumbled backward. "Heeseung! What are you doing here?" you hissed, the surprise evident in your voice. Heeseung attempted a graceful entrance through the window but ended up tripping, the thud of his landing echoing in the room. With a sheepish "oof," he got up, closing the window behind him.
"I wanted to see you," he confessed, drawing closer, his hand gently cupping your cheek. "But... I thought you were still at the police station or..." Your words trailed off, lost in the jumble of thoughts racing through your mind. Heeseung silenced you with a reassuring shush, pulling you into a warm embrace. At first, you stiffened, the memory of recent events resurfacing, but gradually, you found comfort in his arms.
"You didn't say anything to the cops," Heeseung mumbled as his gaze wandered around your room. "Yeah... I didn't," you admitted, unsure of the implications. "Good," he replied, settling on your bed and noticing the schoolwork spread across it. "Still working, hm?" A casual smile adorned his face. You shrugged in response, and he patted the space next to him, inviting you to sit.
A violent storm of inquiries raged within the confines of your mind, each question vying for attention, clamoring to be voiced. Yet, as you attempted to give voice to the cacophony of thoughts, an inexplicable restraint silenced you. "I can hear you thinking," Heeseung's voice cut through the quiet, drawing your attention. You looked up, eyes widening as you found his gaze fixed upon you, a contemplative darkness shrouding his eyes. His face remained an enigma, devoid of emotion.
"Sorry..." you uttered, a feeble apology, as Heeseung gently seized your hands in his. You couldn't help but notice the stark contrast between the seemingly tender hold and the gruesome reality your mind incessantly reminded you of. Those same hands that now sought connection had wielded a weapon, held a knife, and bore the evidence of violence, your blood staining their once seemingly innocent surface.
A shiver ran down your spine as you pulled back, a reflex driven by the reminder of the dual nature residing within those hands. The conflict within you intensified – the desire for comfort at odds with the fear embedded in your memories. The room hung heavy with unspoken tension, a palpable silence punctuated only by the beating of your heart and the weight of your unuttered questions, imprisoned within the recesses of your mind.
"Look... why did you come here?" you finally managed to ask, your voice barely above a whisper. Heeseung sighed, "I just wanted to see you. Listen, I know you're mad and confused, but I won't hurt you. I promise." He tilted your head up, and in his eyes, you found a sincerity that tugged at your doubts.
"Okay... but can you leave?" you requested, your gaze drifting away. Heeseung, seemingly taken aback, huffed and stood up. "Sure," he replied before surprising you, grabbing your jaw and leaning down to whisper in your ear. "But remember, you are mine now." With those words hanging in the air, he climbed out of the window.
You hastily closed the window behind him, the room now echoing with the weight of his departure. As you collapsed onto your bed, a wave of tears escaped, tracing wet paths down your cheeks and onto the bedding. Exhausted, confused, and emotionally drained, you succumbed to the fatigue, seeking refuge in the solace of a restless sleep.
⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅
The school hallways stretched before you like a desolate maze, each step heavy with the weight of grief and the relentless whispers that followed you. Your bag, laden with textbooks and unspoken burdens, hung from your shoulder as you trudged toward your locker. The days leading up to the school's reopening had been a nightmarish blur – a cacophony of sleepless nights and missed meals, the relentless gossip clawing at your fragile composure. Heeseung's absence, a void in your life, left you feeling hollow, uncertain if it was the vacancy or the lingering shock that cast a pallor over your existence.
As you walked alone through the corridors, the usual chatter seemed distant, and the faces that turned toward you carried a mix of sympathy and morbid curiosity. You scanned the crowded hallways in vain for Heeseung, but he remained elusive, adding another layer of unease to your already heavy heart.
Gathering your books, you made your way to class, the weight of loneliness accentuated by the empty seat beside you where Yeji used to sit. The desk stood as a poignant reminder of the void left by her absence. The principal's voice crackled through the speakers, momentarily breaking the uneasy silence, as he addressed the student body with a somber acknowledgment of the lives lost to the Ghostface killer. The words offered little solace, and the notion of moving forward seemed an insurmountable task.
Sighing, you leaned over your desk, lost in the shadows of your own thoughts. The monotony was interrupted by a voice – Kim Taehyung, a high viewed person in the high school popularity. "Mind if I sit here?" he asked, and you shrugged, the emptiness of the seat beside you an invitation.
"I've heard a lot about you, Y/N," Taehyung stated, his eyes locked on yours with a mixture of fascination and curiosity. "Yeah, sure you have," you replied, fully aware of the rumors that painted you as a survivor of Ghostface's relentless pursuit.
His question echoed in the hollow spaces of the classroom, "Is there any reason why you have survived against him?" A peculiar intensity colored his gaze, unsettling you. "I don't know... I always ran and fought," you replied, a simple truth.
As you shifted your gaze from Taehyung to the front of the class, a sudden tension gripped the air, as Heeseung, entered the room. His eyes, drawn like magnets, found you immediately. Yet, as his gaze lingered, it snapped abruptly to Taehyung, who had leaned over to you with an question that sliced through the stifling quiet.
"Heeey, do you know who Ghostface is?" Taehyung's question hung in the air.
Shock painted your features, the abruptness of the question catching you off guard. "What?" you asked, incredulous. "Why would you ask this stuff?" The words tumbled out, a mix of disbelief and frustration.
Taehyung, sensing the rising tension, put his arms up in a placating gesture. "Hey, it's just a question!" he protested, his tone attempting to diffuse the sudden hostility.
"Yeah, well, you seem very stuck on Ghostface," you muttered under your breath, eyes narrowing in suspicion. The intensity of Heeseung's glare toward Taehyung was palpable, a silent warning that cut through the charged atmosphere. You could almost feel the weight of Heeseung's unspoken threats, and, somehow, you didn't doubt for a moment that he was capable of carrying them out.
Just as the situation reached a boiling point, the timely entrance of the teacher disrupted the building tension. Heeseung, now robbed of immediate action, had no choice but to take his seat, back where Jay had ushered him earlier.
The minutes dragged on in the classroom, each second feeling like an eternity as you struggled to concentrate on the lesson. Heeseung's piercing gaze bore into the back of your neck, a constant reminder of his presence. The weight of his stare created an almost tangible pressure, making it difficult for you to focus on anything other than the unnerving energy radiating from him.
As you tried to navigate the sea of swirling thoughts, it became apparent that Taehyung was also affected by the charged atmosphere. His usually relaxed demeanor had shifted to one of stiffness, as if he, too, could feel the invisible tension in the room.
The bell finally rang, breaking the spell that had held you captive. Quickly rising from your seat, you made your way toward the exit. However, your attempt to escape the suffocating atmosphere was short-lived, as Taehyung followed you out.
Annoyance etched across your face, you turned to face him, questioning his persistence. "What are you doing..." you asked, a tone of irritation lacing your words.
"Nothing! It's just—well, you didn't answer my question!" Taehyung exclaimed, his eagerness revealing a certain fixation on the topic that left you uneasy.
In your peripheral vision, Heeseung lingered, a silent figure observing the exchange. "No. I don't know who Ghostface is. His mask is always on. Now leave me alone." The words, firm and final, left no room for further discussion as you walked away, a flicker of relief washing over you as Taehyung, thankfully, chose not to follow.
The bustling sounds of the cafeteria gradually faded as you walked past it, as you did not feel any desire for food. As you turned a corner, the unexpected collision with someone jolted you back to the present. Looking up, your eyes met Heeseung's, who stood there, leaning against the wall with an air of anticipation.
"Heeseung?" you whispered, confusion etching your features. Before you could question his presence, he swiftly grabbed you and ushered you into the janitor's closet, deftly locking the door behind you.
"What did Taehyung-ssi want?" he asked, hands gently caressing your arms. "He asked about you—well, about Ghostface," you replied. Heeseung's eyes lingered on yours, then drifted to your lips. An almost-kiss hung between you, halted in anticipation.
"May I kiss you, my love?" he inquired, seeking your permission. You nodded, but Heeseung demanded more. "Words, love. I need words." A nod from you wasn't enough; he craved words. "Yes," you said, granting him permission. A satisfied smile graced Heeseung's lips as he bridged the gap, initiating a kiss. An electric spark ignited as your lips met, and you gasped when Heeseung tilted his head, deepening the kiss.
His hand found your waist, pulling you closer, and he pressed you against the wall. The other hand supported his weight, creating an intimate embrace. "Fuck, I missed you," Heeseung murmured between kisses, his lips trailing down your jaw and throat. Collateral to his ardor, he adjusted your collar, pulling it down as it hindered his path. A sudden bite against your neck made you jump, and as he pulled back, a mischievous grin played on his lips.
"Now Taehyung knows you are taken," he declared, pulling you in for another kiss. His hand found its way to your neck, thumb on your jaw, and index finger tracing your cheek as he hummed, savoring the moment, while you squeezed your eyes shut, caught in a whirlwind of sensations.
The fervent exchange of kisses consumed you, Heeseung's touch igniting your senses. Pinned against the wall, your mind buzzed with the intensity of the moment – his lips on yours, his distinct scent enveloping you, his hands exploring every inch of your being. Your fingers clung to his shirt and neck, desperate to hold onto the sensations he stirred. His groans and whispered praises fueled the passionate encounter.
As the intensity of the moment peaked, Heeseung left a trail of bite marks and love bites across your skin, each one a testament to the desire that consumed you both. With each mark he left, you felt a surge of pleasure ripple through you, your body responding eagerly to his touch.
As the distant bell rang, signaling the end of lunch, you gasped for air, attempting to break free from the all-encompassing kiss. Heeseung, however, pursued your lips, capturing them once more. "Heeseung," you managed to utter between breaths, but his fervor persisted. "The bell," you insisted, feeling the urgency of the passing time.
"Skip with me," he pleaded, his words laced with desperation. He tilted your jaw up, examining the marks and bites he had left on your collarbone, throat, and neck, a sense of accomplishment evident in his humming. Overwhelmed, you gulped, and before rational thought could intervene, you nodded. Heeseung grinned, seizing your hand and pulling you out of the janitor's closet. Together, you raced through the now deserted halls, escaping the beginning of the next class.
Outside, you both ran through the empty streets until Heeseung stopped by a serene lake. Turning to you with a smile, he guided you down to the water's edge. "Why are we here?" you asked, curious about his choice. "It's my favorite place," Heeseung confessed, his gaze fixed on the distance. "I haven't been able to come here for a while." The sincerity in his words caught you off guard. "Is this a special place for you?" you asked, seeking to understand the layers behind the man who, despite his dark actions, appeared lost. Heeseung nodded, meeting your eyes before returning his gaze to the water. Unable to find words, you embraced him, and after a brief hesitation, he reciprocated, his face nestled against your neck, his form trembling ever so slightly in your arms.
⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅
In the quiet confines of your room, the soft glow of the moon painted a delicate tapestry across the ceiling. Lying in bed, you found yourself enveloped in the dim illumination. Fingers intertwined, you absentmindedly fiddled with your hands.
Confusion reigned as you grappled with emotions that had evolved from a simple crush on Heeseung into a complex, undeniable love. The journey from infatuation to this deep, forbidden affection was unexpected, and you struggled to reconcile the warmth that surged through you whenever Heeseung was near with the harsh reality of his dark secret.
With every stolen glance, your heart seemed to flutter, almost smiling in response to the mere presence of Heeseung. The touch of his lips on yours sent your stomach into a frenzy of butterflies, and the brush of his fingers against your skin set it tingling with an electric charge. His captivating gaze, those dark eyes that held a universe of mystery, had the power to turn your legs into jelly.
Yet, amidst the euphoria of love, an undeniable truth lingered—an uncomfortable awareness that Heeseung was a murderer. The police, having found Beomseok in the Ghostface costume, believed they had solved the case. However, recent news stories hinted at the contrary. Murders continued, marked by the enigmatic Ghostface masks left at the scenes, challenging the assumption that the killer had been unmasked.
In the silence of your room, the conflict within your heart manifested in the gentle rise and fall of your chest. You pondered the morality of your emotions, wrestling with the profound love you felt for a man who lived a double life—one of tender affection with you and another steeped in darkness.
The echo of the argument resonated in the corridors of your memory, a haunting playback of words that lingered in the silence of your thoughts. It was a scene etched vividly—the dimly lit kitchen in Heeseung's house, the weight of your question hanging in the air like a storm on the horizon.
Heeseung, leaning casually against the kitchen counter, confronted your question with an unsettling nonchalance. "What?" His voice held a detached quality. "Did you kill all those people that are on the news?" you pressed, the words carrying a heaviness that seemed to punctuate the air.
"Well..." Heeseung's response was a hesitant admission, a glimpse into a world stained by the consequences of his actions.  "Not all of them, at least not the ones where the mask is left behind. Amateur move, honestly." he dismissed, scratching his neck as if contemplating the simplicity of the copycat killer. The chilling revelation, sent shivers down your spine. It was as if you were discussing a mundane topic, not probing the depths of a heinous crime.
The revelation brought forth a torrent of emotions, a mixture of fear, anger, and a profound sadness. "So someone is acting like they are you, doesn't that bother you?" The question hung in the air, a plea for acknowledgment that the reality of his actions should stir something within him.
However, Heeseung's response, delivered with an eerie calmness, further unraveled the threads of your emotions. "No? Why should I?" he retorted, indifferent to the gravity of the crimes that mirrored his own. "Because they're doing the same thing! Killing! Hurting. That's wrong!" you said.
In a hauntingly intimate gesture, Heeseung closed the distance, his hand seizing your jaw, commanding your attention. "As long as they don't touch you," he murmured, his words a possessive declaration that resonated down to your very core. His hand descended to your neck, fingers tracing a delicate path, as he swore, "I will kill them if they touch what's mine." The tension crackling in the air like electricity. Heeseung, undeterred, leaned in for a kiss, seizing the moment to entangle your senses in a web of conflicting emotions. His tongue invaded the space between your lips, a calculated move to distract and claim, his other hand enveloping your waist.
Your legs shook as he pulled you closer, his tongue slipping past your lips in an invasive dance. There was a desperate urge to succumb, to lose yourself in the intoxicating familiarity of his touch. Yet, with an iron resolve, you pushed him away, breaking the suffocating embrace. "I just... I can't do this now, Heeseung," you whispered, your voice a fragile echo in the room. In that moment, you turned away from him, the sanctuary of his home now tainted with the bitter taste of reality.
Without waiting for a response, you bolted, your footsteps echoing through the hallway as you fled from the confrontation you weren't ready to face. The door slammed shut behind you, a final punctuation mark to a conversation that left wounds too raw to bear.
The outside world greeted you with the cool embrace of the night, the stars a witness. As you ran through the quiet streets, the rhythmic cadence of your steps became a desperate heartbeat, each stride a futile attempt to outrun the truth.
Heeseung, left behind in his own dwelling, resisted the urge to chase after you. His silhouette stood tall in the doorway, bathed in the muted glow filtering through the windows. Leaning his head down, his eyes fixated on the space you once occupied, he wore a cold stare that betrayed no emotion.
The memory played like a vivid nightmare, each detail etched in your mind—the coldness of his stare as you escaped, the desperation that radiated from you, and the haunting realization that love had entangled you in a dangerous dance with a man who lived in shadows.
Heeseungs Pov:
Heeseung's days at school turned into a relentless quest, a desperate pursuit to find you, to have a moment alone, to bridge the widening gap that seemed to stretch with each passing day. Yet, you were always two steps ahead, a phantom in the hallways, eluding his attempts to catch even a glimpse of you. The avoidance seemed like a deliberate dance, and he, despite his persistent efforts, was left yearning for a moment to talk, to connect.
His texts, now read with the status delivered. Calls, once filled with the warmth of your voice, turned into one-sided conversations as he was greeted by the coldness of voicemail. The frustration mounted, and Heeseung, a master of control, felt his grasp slipping.
One evening, driven to the brink of desperation, he climbed up to your window, a silent plea etched on his face. The curtains, drawn tightly shut, denied him even a glimpse of the space where you laid. Knocking on the window in the darkness, he called your name, but the room remained shrouded in silence.
The realization hit him like a cold gust of wind—his efforts, no matter how persistent, couldn't breach the walls you had built. The decision weighed heavy on him, but with a heavy heart, he conceded to give you space. The anger and frustration that pulsed within him found an outlet, a return to the only thing that brought him a twisted sense of satisfaction: murder.
As the other Ghostface, seemingly inspired by his legacy, terrorized the town, Heeseung decided to expand his reach to other towns. The chase, the thrill of the hunt, became a distraction from the echoing emptiness left by your absence. Yet, none of it compared to the rush he felt with you.
The chase, the fear in his victims' eyes, and the life draining from them were all familiar sensations, but none matched the electrifying thrill he had experienced with you. The adrenaline rush was too quick, leaving him even more frustrated.
Breaking into houses, shattering windows, and forcefully entering doors became his routine. The victims, now more vigilant and security-conscious, provided a challenge, but it only added to Heeseung's irritation. The once-satisfying acts now felt like mere inconveniences.
Yet, amidst the chaos he orchestrated, it was your avoidance that annoyed him the most. His thoughts often circled back to you, wondering why you resisted him. But Heeseung was patient, confident that you would come back to him when you were ready. In the twisted game he played, he reveled in the idea that you were the ultimate prize, and he would wait for you, no matter how long it took.
Your POV:
The living room was cloaked in the soft glow of the television, casting a warm ambience across the room. Your little brother was off with his friends, and your mother was at work, leaving you alone with the flickering images on the screen. The news report unfolded the grim tale of the ongoing murders in the town, and the recent revelation that there were now two Ghostfaces haunting the community.
You sat on the couch, your gaze fixed on the television, absorbing every detail. The news broadcast showcased a video feed capturing both Ghostfaces in action. One of them stood in the clear, the camera capturing the entirety of his menacing presence. Dressed in a black cloak, a twisted white mask concealed his identity, and a blood-stained knife gleamed menacingly in his hand as he brazenly entered a house with a chilling lack of remorse.
The other Ghostface remained elusive, shrouded in darkness. Only the stark white of his mask and the glint of his knife were discernible. As the camera focused on him, a sinister head tilt added an eerie touch to his enigmatic presence. The screen abruptly went dark, as if the Ghostface had severed the connection with a swift, calculated move.
"The police has stated that the evidence is pointing that the right one is the original Ghostface because of his tendencies, proving that Kim Beomseok was indeed innocent and just a pawn in his game," the newswoman declared, her voice delivering the weighty verdict. A sigh escaped your lips, acknowledging the familiarity of Heeseung's distinctive traits.
"The real Ghostface is still out there, and he has an accomplice. We advise people to set a curfew and lock your doors and windows tight," the news woman continued, her words an ominous warning that echoed through the room.
As the news segued into weather updates, you took a moment to exhale the tension that had gripped you. 
As the disconcerting reality settled, your phone pierced the silence with an unknown caller. A frown creased your forehead as you scrunched your nose in distaste, swiftly ending the call. You rose, moving toward the television, the haunting images of the Ghostfaces still fresh in your mind. With a click, you turned off the TV, leaving the room in profound darkness.
Navigating through the obscurity, you made your way to the kitchen. Refusing to turn on the lights, you reached for a kitchen knife, a cold metal reassurance in your hand. Seated on a barstool, you waited in the inky silence.
A persistent ring pierced the quietude, emanating from your phone, held tightly in your grasp. As the call persisted, you let it ring, the vibration against your palm a rhythmic reminder of impending danger. Finally, with a stoic resolve, you answered, the chill in your voice unmistakable.
"Hello," you uttered, devoid of emotion, bracing for the encounter with the dark voice on the other end. The subtle distortion revealed the use of a voice changer, heightening the malevolence of the conversation.
"Hello, Y/N," the voice responded, a sinister greeting that sent a shiver down your spine. "Hello, Ghostface, or should I say fake Ghostface?" you retorted, a flicker of defiance in your tone.
"Clever, aren't you? I can see why you beat the master," the voice acknowledged, "Master?" you uttered.
"Yes, master. I admire him so much, you know? When he first started killing, I was appalled. But now? I see why he likes this career," the voice confessed, unveiling a twisted admiration for the chaos that had gripped the town.
"That's disgusting," you spat out, a visceral reaction to the perverse admiration for a killer. "Hm, I suppose so. But I don't really care what you think. Now that I have proven myself worthy as a killer, I wanted to see what the deal with you was," the voice continued, unapologetic in its admission.
As the unsettling conversation unfolded, the voice delved into a sinister curiosity about your resilience against Ghostface's attacks. "Why couldn't he kill you, what's so special about you?" the voice probed, drawing out a chilling anticipation.
"Why don't you come and see for yourself, asshole?" you retorted. The voice responded with a laugh. "You know, I think I will accept that proposition happily. Here I come, bitch," the voice declared before abruptly ending the call. The air thickened with impending danger, and in the shadows, you braced yourself for the approaching storm, armed with nothing but a kitchen knife and a heart hardened.
A crash shattered the stillness, drawing your attention to the source of the disturbance. The garden chair outside had been hurled into the room, breaking the window. With a blink, the ominous silhouette of Ghostface materialized in the hallway, a figure you instinctively knew wasn't Heeseung. Dread coiled in your stomach, a chilling realization that terrorized you.
This Ghostface was different, shorter and less imposing than Heeseung. The masked intruder charged toward you, a gleaming knife in hand, and quick thinking became your ally.
With a swift motion, you leaped onto the kitchen counter, rolled to the other side, and seized the faucet. A torrent of water erupted, drenching Ghostface. Choking and gurgling sounds punctuated the air as he struggled against the unexpected assault. You turned off the water, before you darted into the living room.
Jumping over the couch, you retrieved the gun stowed beneath it, a precautionary measure your mother had taken. You aimed the gun, and fired. The bullet found its mark, and Ghostface howled in pain, an unfamiliar vulnerability beneath the mask.
As you stood, rounding the couch, you stared down at the wounded assailant. "Is that your best? Come on," you taunted, kicking away the knife that had posed a lethal threat.
Ghostface's gaze bore into yours before he lunged, toppling you to the ground. Pain reverberated through your head as it collided with the floor. The masked intruder mounted you, hands closing around your throat. Panic surged, but you fought back, grappling with his wrists, desperately trying to pry him off.
"You bitch!" Ghostface spat, the voice changer momentarily silent, revealing a clear, angered voice. A punch landed on your face, pain blossoming as the assault continued. In the struggle, you glimpsed the kitchen knife near your leg. An opportunity for self-defense emerged, and you seized it without hesitation, driving the blade into Ghostface's back.
His scream echoed through the room as he released his grip. You kicked him away, scrambling to a safe distance. Blood stained the floor, a testament to the violence that had unfolded. Ghostface, weakened and desperate, retreated through the back door, leaving a crimson trail in his wake.
Gasping for breath, you clutched your phone, dialing the police. In the aftermath of the struggle, you summoned the courage to make an unexpected call. Heeseung's voice, warm and familiar, filled your ears. "Hello? Angel?" he greeted.
"Heeseung... he came. Ghostface came," you uttered, your voice strained and hoarse. "Shit. I'm coming, just hang on," Heeseung's determined response resonated through the line. The door slammed shut, signaling his departure.
"I beat him. He called me and broke in. And I fought against him," you whispered. "Good, good. I'm so proud of you, baby," Heeseung reassured, his words a soothing balm in the aftermath of the storm.
⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅
The street outside your house was a tableau of flashing lights and uniformed officers, a reminder of the recent chaos. Sitting on the doorstep, you stared into the scene. However, a ray of relief pierced through the gloom as Heeseung came sprinting toward you.
His presence, a beacon of comfort, ignited a rush of happiness within you. Without a second thought, you leaped into his arms, seeking solace in his embrace. Tears flowed freely as Heeseung held you close, his arms a haven that shielded you. He rubbed your back soothingly, whispering words of reassurance.
As your cries subsided, Heeseung gently pulled back, his gaze scanning your face. Anguish flickered in his eyes as he beheld the bruises and the haunting marks around your throat. "He did this?" Heeseung questioned, a simmering anger beneath his words. You could only nod in response.
Suddenly, Heeseung scooped you up in a bridal embrace, determination etched across his features. "Heeseung! What are you doing?" you protested, clinging to his neck. "Taking you with me. No way I'm leaving you alone with him running around," he declared, his voice laced with protective fervor. Concern for your safety outweighed all other considerations.
"What about my mom and brother?" you inquired. "They have the police. I only care about your safety," Heeseung asserted. "Heeseung!" you pleaded, a mix of desperation and loyalty.
"What? It's the truth," he responded. "They are my family!" you insisted. After a moment, he relented, "Alright, just let me have you now." With a resigned sigh, you agreed.
Upon reaching Heeseung's house, weariness clung to you like a heavy shroud, as he guided you to his bedroom, gently laying you down. You looked up at him, the exhaustion apparent in your eyes. Heeseung settled beside you, drawing you into an intimate embrace. "I'm here now, angel," he whispered, his words a tender promise of protection.
As he held you close, the weight of the night's events settled on Heeseung's shoulders. The realization that the other Ghostface had dared to touch you, to harm you, ignited a storm of rage within him. The room seemed to pulse with the intensity of his emotions. His eyes, once gentle, now burned with a fierce hatred and anger.
A possessive fervor took hold of Heeseung as he held you close, not leaving even the slightest room for air to pass between you. His arms wrapped around you like an impenetrable shield, a silent declaration that he would do whatever it took to keep you safe. The rage within him was a primal force, fueled by the audacity of someone else daring to harm what belonged to him.
⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅
The morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow in Heeseung's bedroom. As you stirred from your slumber, the remnants of sleep clinging to your consciousness, you found the bed beside you empty. A quick scan of the room revealed no sign of Heeseung. The only evidence of his presence was the lingering scent of his cologne on the sheets.
With a yawn, you shuffled out of the bedroom, following the enticing aroma of breakfast wafting through the air. Descending the stairs, you found Heeseung in the kitchen, effortlessly moving between stove and counterto.
"Good morning, baby," he greeted you with a warm smile, his attention momentarily diverted from the sizzling pan.
"Morning," you mumbled, still half in a dream, and made your way to the table. The aroma of pancakes and freshly brewed coffee filled the air, enticing you to partake in the morning feast.
After a satisfying breakfast, Heeseung trailed besides you as you made your way to school. His hoodie enveloped you in its warmth, and the oversized sweatpants added a touch of casual comfort.
Entering the school grounds, the attention directed at you was palpable. Whispers and glances followed your every step, the events of the previous night etched into the collective consciousness of your peers. Heeseung's proximity only intensified the scrutiny, and you couldn't escape the awareness of being the center of attention.
Reaching your locker, Heeseung leaned casually against the row of lockers, his arm sliding around you. You retrieved your books, the cool metal of the locker a stark contrast to the warmth of his touch. The hallway buzzed with the muted sounds of conversation, but in that moment, it felt like the world had narrowed to just the two of you.
As the first class commenced, you found yourself alone, the comforting presence of Heeseung absent from your side. However, the second class brought a familiar face. Taehyung joined you, though something seemed off. His usually vibrant demeanor was replaced by a subtle shadow of unease.
"Are you okay?" you asked, concern lacing your voice. Taehyung glanced at you, attempting to muster a reassuring smile. "Me? I'm fine, totally fine," he replied, but the words seemed to lack conviction. Opting not to press further, you turned your attention to the board, though a lingering worry for your friend remained in the back of your mind.
⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅
The school halls were mostly deserted, the echo of chatter and laughter fading as you walked towards the bustling cafeteria. Your steps were purposeful, the anticipation of meeting Heeseung pulling you forward. The usual hustle and bustle of students had already subsided, the majority having rushed ahead to the cafeteria while you were held back by a teacher, discussing assignments and grades.
The silence enveloped you as you neared the cafeteria, the muted sounds of your own footsteps echoing through the corridor.
However, before you could reach the bustling cafeteria, you were abruptly halted. The sudden impact against the cold wall sent a jolt through you, and you found yourself face to face with a group of popular girls from the school. Led by Yeowang, their accusatory stares bore into you.
"You think you are so mighty, don't you? Taking Heeseung for yourself?!" Yeowang accused, her tone dripping with venom. Confusion furrowed your brow as you attempted to make sense of the unwarranted confrontation. "What are you talking about?" you questioned.
"You know exactly what she's talking about!" Jiwoo chimed in, her expression equally accusatory. Yeowang, the self-proclaimed leader, sneered at you. "What's even so special about you, huh? You survived two killers, oh, big deal. I can do that with a hand tied around my back!"
Annoyance welled up within you, and you retorted, "Then why don't you try it, huh? Try not being murdered!" With a defiant push, you attempted to distance yourself from the confrontation.
In response, Yeowang's rage peaked, and she raised her hand, ready to strike you. However, before the blow could land, a strong grip clasped around her wrist, halting the impending assault. Heeseung stood there, a storm brewing in his eyes.
"What do you think you're doing?" Heeseung's voice was deceptively calm, a dangerous edge underscoring his words. "Heeseung! I—I... it's not what you think! Uh, Y/n pushed me, and I simply wanted to go against her in self-defense!" Yeowang stuttered in her attempt to justify her actions, but Heeseung's glare pierced through her excuses. "Really? I thought you were better than that," he remarked, releasing her wrist.
"Now, I'm going to be nice and ignore the fact that you were hurting Y/N. Now go before I change my mind," he commanded, and the girls scattered, leaving you standing there in shock.
As the commotion subsided, Heeseung turned to you, his gaze softening. He came in front of you, looking you over with concern. "You okay?" he asked, his voice gentle yet filled with an underlying intensity.
"Yes, I'm fine," you responded, still processing the unexpected turn of events, grateful for Heeseung's timely intervention. 
⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅
The midday sunlight streamed through the classroom windows, casting a warm glow on the bustling scene within. Animated conversations echoed off the walls, punctuated by the occasional rustle of papers and the soft hum of the air conditioner. The air was alive with the energy of students engrossed in various discussions and activities.
Seated at your desk, you attempted to immerse yourself in the lesson, the teacher's voice a constant presence in the background. However, a fatigue gradually crept over you, shrouding your senses in a hazy fog. Desperate to shake off the encroaching drowsiness, you blinked repeatedly, but each blink seemed to weigh heavier on your eyelids.
As you struggled to maintain focus, the ambient noise surrounding you took on an underwater quality. Conversations became muffled, as if distorted by an unseen force. Your vision blurred, and the edges of your consciousness began to dissolve into an indistinct haze. Fingers twitched involuntarily, a subtle tremor that hinted at the overwhelming weariness settling into your bones. Someone in the distance called your name, the words reaching you like a distant echo, detached and surreal.
The world around you seemed to fade, and a sense of weightlessness accompanied the descent into the beckoning darkness.
And then, like the closing of heavy curtains, everything collapsed, and you surrendered to the comforting embrace of unconsciousness.
In that silent realm of blackness, time seemed to hold its breath. There were no whispers of conversation, no distant echoes. Only the profound stillness of an unconscious mind.
As your eyes fluttered open, the sterile environment of the nurse's office came into focus. The soft hum of fluorescent lights overhead and the antiseptic scent in the air signaled your departure from the realm of unconsciousness. Confusion clouded your thoughts momentarily, and you glanced around, realizing you were lying on the medical bed.
The nurse, a calming presence in the room, sat on a nearby chair and noticed you had woken up. "Hello, dear. You caused quite a commotion," she said with a gentle smile. "I did?" Her response was a nod, and a blush of embarrassment crept up your cheeks. "Oh..." you mumbled in response.
Offering reassurance, the nurse continued, "It's alright. Your boyfriend brought you here." She handed you a cup of juice, and you sipped it slowly. "My boyfriend?" you echoed in surprise. "Yes, he's sitting right outside," she replied, gesturing toward the waiting area. "Now, you've got to be more careful with your health. I would rather not panic seeing you lifeless in a boy's arms," she added with a chuckle before returning to her duties at the computer.
With a nod of acknowledgment, you finished the juice, tossed the empty cup into the trash, and made your way out of the nurse's office. Heeseung was sitting in the waiting area, and you couldn't help but wonder why he had taken the time to be there for you. "What are you doing here?" you questioned, genuinely curious.
Heeseung stood up, his eyes meeting yours as he came to your side immediately. "Waiting for you," he responded, slipping a warm hand around your waist. A genuine smile played on his lips as he guided you back, and you felt a rush of butterflies in your stomach. "You didn't need to do that," you insisted softly.
"I wanted to," he replied, the sincerity evident in his gaze. His smile, directed solely at you, held a rare genuineness that made you feel special.
⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅
The days rolled on, and a fragile sense of normalcy returned. Heeseung, reassured by the absence of the other Ghostface's threat, let his guard down. The watchful eyes of the police gave a semblance of security to the neighborhood, and you gradually began to resume a routine.
However, the peace you found at home sharply contrasted with the ongoing trials at school. The popular girls, harboring resentment, made your life difficult. Yeowang, reached new lows, and took pleasure in subtle but malicious acts when Heeseung or any of his friends weren't around. She denied her involvement even when confronted, weaving intricate lies with a practiced ease.
⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅
You entered your bedroom after a long day when you noticed an unexpected arrangement on your bed. A bouquet of red, white, and blue roses intertwined with each other, creating a harmonious blend of colors, alongside a box of chocolates, awaited your attention. A simple blue wrapping adorned with a pristine white bow encased a mysterious gift.
The floral fragrance filled the air as you lifted the bouquet, appreciating the delicate beauty of each bloom. Satisfied, you set the flowers aside and turned your attention to the box of chocolates. To your delight, it contained your favorite type.
Your curiosity piqued further as you unwrapped the main gift, revealing a sleek black butterfly knife adorned with golden designs. The handles, featured elegant white angel wings. Eager to explore its intricacies, you attempted a playful flick, only to fumble and drop it onto your bed. "Ow!" you exclaimed, shaking off the momentary sting.
Recovering swiftly, you spotted a note at the bottom of the gift. Retrieving it, you read the words inscribed: "For my angel, love Heeseung." A smile played on your lips at the gesture.
Grateful for the unexpected present, you promptly reached for your phone to express your appreciation. "Thank you for the gifts; I loved them. And i will not ask how you got them in," you messaged Heeseung.
Almost instantaneously, his reply arrived, "You're welcome, princess. And don't worry. I will teach you how to use it." His words sparked a conversation that extended into the night. As you exchanged messages, the hour grew late, prompting you to bid Heeseung a good night. "I'm going to bed. Good night, Heeseung," you typed. His response, "Good night, angel. Make sure to lock your windows," came promptly. Following his advice, you secured the windows before settling into bed.
A new message from Heeseung flashed on your screen, simply stating, "Good girl." You gulped, the message sent a subtle thrill down your spine. A peculiar warmth, a delightful tickle, settled in your stomach as you read those two simple words.
You glanced toward the window, half-expecting to find something beyond the glass. The room was dimly lit, shadows playing on the walls, and the soft glow of the moonlight casting a gentle ambiance.
With a hint of curiosity, you studied the windows, half-expecting it to reveal a mysterious figure with a playful presence. The night air outside was still, and the surroundings seemed undisturbed. Yet, the lingering echo of "Good girl" resonated in your mind, creating an air of suspense that you found oddly thrilling.
Taking a deep breath, you shook off the imaginary tension, and changed into comfortable pajamas, sliding under the covers with the butterfly knife on your nightstand. Examining it closely, you noticed the intricately carved initials of your name and Heeseung's on the handles. A quiet gasp escaped your lips. The unexpected yet incredibly thoughtful touch sent a rush of warmth through you, a gentle smile played on your lips as you marveled at the personalized detail. With a satisfied sigh, you carefully placed it back on the nightstand.
The room dimmed as you turned off the lights, and you layed in bed, staring up at the ceiling.
⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅
In the unsettling ebb and flow of high school dynamics, the once vibrant halls of the school now seemed shadowed by the undercurrents of hostility. Every step felt like a careful dance to avoid the traps set by the popular girls. Despite Heeseung's protective presence, their relentless efforts to undermine you continued.
On top of that Taehyung's behavior grew increasingly intrusive, his advances becoming more pronounced in class and the halls. His proximity became uncomfortable, and the boundary between friendliness and invasion blurred.
His persistence in getting close to you prompted a growing sense of unease. The lingering feeling of being watched whenever he was nearby compelled you to take measures to avoid him altogether. The hallways became a maze where you strategically maneuvered to sidestep encounters with Taehyung, who seemed determined to bridge a gap that you were intent on widening.
Despite your efforts to dodge him, Taehyung's persistence continued. Another time, in the empty school hallway, he cornered you near the lockers. "You know, you're pretty when you're mad," he commented.
Feeling trapped, you shot him a glare. "Enough, Taehyung. I'm not interested, and your comments are not welcome. Back off."
His giggles echoed as you walked away, determined to distance yourself from hiseerie behavior.
⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅
As the days unfolded, you couldn't shake the lingering sense that, despite the calm on the surface, there were storm clouds gathering on the horizon, threatening to disrupt the fragile peace you desperately sought.
The news continued to broadcast the chilling saga of the two Ghostfaces haunting the town. The police, growing more frustrated by the escalating body count, struggled to apprehend the elusive killers. Each new report fueled the anxiety that had settled over the community.
You found yourself caught in the relentless grip of fear once again, the shadow of Ghostfaces looming larger than ever. The unpredictable nature of his attacks had everyone on edge, and you couldn't shake the feeling that the danger was closing in.
Heeseung, on the other hand, was adapting to the heightened scrutiny and frustration of the police. When he wore the Ghostface costume, he became more cautious, stalking his victims for extended periods before making his move. The cat-and-mouse game between him and the authorities intensified, a dangerous dance in the moonlit shadows.
The other Ghostface seemed to be taking a page from Heeseung's book, growing more careful and methodical in his approach. However, unlike Heeseung's relatively clean crime scenes, this Ghostface left behind a gruesome trail of blood. The brutality escalated, leaving a mark that horrified even the most seasoned investigators.
One night, a particularly disturbing message written in blood on a crime scene wall sent shivers down your spine: "For you, Ghostface." The implication was clear, and it left you feeling creeped out. Heeseung, upon seeing this gruesome display, was impressed by the audacity.
But had the other Ghostface not gone after you, Heeseung might have entertained the idea of an unholy alliance, a partnership in chaos. But now, with the line crossed, Heeseung's desire for revenge burned bright. This town, in his eyes, had room for only one killer, and the other Ghostface had just signed his own death warrant.
Friday Night:
In the opulent confines of Yeowang's mansion, a sleepover took place, an event initiated by the absence of Yeowang's parents for the weekend, her closest friends—Hyo-jin, Yoo-mi, Hayeong, and Jiwoo was present. The night started late, as the girls gathered in the spacious living room adorned with lavish furnishings. The girls huddled on the plush sofa, draped in cozy blankets, their laughter echoing against the opulent walls. A large flat-screen TV, mounted like a work of art, illuminated the room, showcasing the latest news broadcast featuring the ongoing Ghostface killings and investigations.
As they bantered and gossiped, Jiwoo, known for her audacious comments, couldn't help but interject with her own peculiar observation. "Ghostface is hot, actually," she declared, earning incredulous looks from the others. Hayeong, ever the voice of reason, promptly dismissed the notion. "Okay first of all, that's a killer. Second, you have a boyfriend, and besides, he's masked! You don't even know how he looks!"
"So? I can see it," Jiwoo retorted, undeterred. Hyo-jin, more observant than the rest, interjected, " There are two Ghostfaces. Which one is hotter?"
The room fell momentarily silent as the girls processed this, their eyes fixated on the TV where two distinct images of the masked killers were displayed. Jiwoo, with her usual nonchalant demeanor, broke the silence. "Oh…both, I guess? I mean, look at them!" she exclaimed, pointing animatedly at the screen.
"You are crazy," Hyo-jin remarked, her voice tinged with disbelief. Unbeknownst to the others, Yeowang found herself oddly conflicted, silently acknowledging Jiwoo's point but reluctant to admit that she, too, felt an inexplicable allure to the enigmatic figures behind the masks.
The mood took a sharp turn when Hayeong, attempting to shift the conversation, brought up your name that immediately ignited Yeowang's fury. "I can't believe that Y/N is the only one who survived both of them," she stated, a heavy silence enveloping the room. Yeowang's reaction was visceral—her anger palpable, manifested by the shattering of a vase against the wall.
"That whore does not deserve it!" Yeowang's scream reverberated through the expansive mansion. "She survived two killers and suddenly got famous! She got Heeseung! It's unfair! What does she have that I don't?!" Yeowang's accusatory glare swept across the room, her friends taken aback by the sudden outburst.
"You are in my house! You will not mention her name!" Yeowang's command echoed, punctuating the room with a tense energy. The other girls, startled and intimidated, nodded in compliance. "Got it, we will not say her name," they meekly replied, an air of discomfort settling over the once lively sleepover.
The night pressed on, and Hayeong, feeling a stifling warmth in the crowded room, decided to excuse herself. She climbed the stairs to the bathroom, her steps a subtle echo against the hushed whispers of her friends below. Her nimble fingers worked silently to ease open the window, allowing fresh air in.
As she called her boyfriend, the cool breeze that wafted in cooled her down, "Kwan, why don't you come over? I'm too bored here, and I miss you," she whispered into the phone, her voice a delicate secret. "I'll be right there, baby," Kwan's voice assured her from the other end before he hung u.
Hayeong emerged from the bathroom and, like a phantom, slipped to the dimly-lit garage. There, waiting in the shadows, was her boyfriend's car.
Closing the garage door behind her, she got into the passenger seat, and the car became a heated session as they made out. "What do you think about ditching and coming over to mine?" Kwan proposed. "Sure, let me just tell the others," Hayeong replied, sealing her fate as she returned to the oblivious gathering in the living room.
She informed her friends of her departure, and Yeowang's dismissive response lingered in the air like an unspoken omen.
Hayeong retrieved her belongings and, with a roll of her eyes, made her way back to the secluded garage.
As she settled into the car, the illusion of safety shattered, she turned to face her boyfriend, only for her face to twist into sheer horror at the sight of his lifeless form. Panic set in, and before she could scream, a gloved hand clamped over her mouth, stifling any sound.
The rearview mirror reflected the ghostly visage of a white mask, and the glint of a knife spelled impending doom. A searing pain erupted in her stomach. The garbled scream of her pain was stifled as the hand tightened its grip, and though she fought against the assailant's grip, her strength waned.
Disoriented and weakened, Hayeong clawed her way out of the car, her hands leaving smears of blood on the cold concrete floor. Ghostface emerged from the backseat, his movements deliberate and silent, carefully closing the car door behind him. The shadows draped him in an impenetrable cloak as he advanced, following the crimson trail left by Hayeong.
With calculated precision, Ghostface struck again, the knife finding its mark in Hayeong's back. Her weak cries echoed in the garage, a desperate plea for mercy. She twisted her body on the ground, lying on her back, staring up at Ghostface, she saw only the impassive mask that hid the face of her killer.
Each breath she took seemed to expel the last vestiges of life, accompanied by the gasping for breath as blood bubbled from her mouth.
Lying on the garage floor, Hayeong's gaze fixed on the unforgiving concrete ceiling. Blood continued to spill, and the last vestiges of life slipped away. Ghostface, unaffected by her suffering, simply stared down at his victim before pocketing the blood-stained knife. Then he dragged Hayeong's lifeless form with him, leaving behind the scene of horror in the quiet garage.
The encompassing darkness welcomed him as he stuffed the corpses in the trunk of the car before leaving the garage to guard its grisly secret, the echoes of Hayeong and her boyfriend's final moments lingering in the air.
⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅
The sleepover had transformed into a scene of collective ennui, the girls sprawled across the living room, eyes glued to the blaring horror movie on the screen. The volume was cranked up to its maximum, attempting to infuse some excitement into the lackluster atmosphere. Jiwoo, the embodiment of impatience, couldn't contain her discontent. "I'm bored!" she declared, punctuating her statement with an animated kick of her feet, reminiscent of a spoiled child. Yoo-mi, joining the chorus of dissatisfaction, drawled, "Me toooo," her words elongated in a languid manner. Hyo-jin, the silent participant, simply nodded in agreement.
In the midst of this collective restlessness, Yeowang, always quick with a plan, had an idea to salvage the night. "Why don't I invite Kwangsun and Joonwoo?" she suggested, eyeing an opportunity to inject some life into the gathering. Jiwoo, seizing the chance to involve her boyfriend, Minho, eagerly chimed in, "Oh! Can I invite Minho then?" Yoo-mi, with a hint of skepticism, interjected, "You're just gonna fuck him!" Jiwoo, undeterred, stuck her tongue out at Yoo-mi, and Yeowang, with a roll of her eyes, relented, "Yeah, sure, invite him too."
Overjoyed, Jiwoo leaped to her feet, celebrating the approved invitation. "You mean it??" she questioned, to which Yeowang simply nodded in affirmation. "Yes!" Jiwoo exclaimed, immediately reaching for her phone to call Minho. Concurrently, Yeowang composed messages to Kwangsun and Joonwoo, both of whom promptly confirmed their attendance.
As the clock edged towards 1 AM, signaling the arrival of the anticipated guests, a resonant doorbell rang through the apartment. Hyo-jin, assigned the role of the door opener, took a moment to peek through the peephole, ensuring that it was indeed the boys behind the door.
The door swung open, revealing Kwangsun, Joonwoo, and Minho, boisterous and full of energy. They entered the room with a flourish, bearing beer and loud shouts, injecting a burst of life into the previously lethargic atmosphere. Jiwoo, unable to contain her excitement, screeched Minho's name and leaped into his waiting arms.
The group settled on the couch, drinks in hand, and laughter filling the air. Amidst the lively atmosphere, Hyo-jin rose from her seat with the announcement, "I'm going out for a smoke." She strolled toward the front door, and closing it behind her, leaving the vibrant scene inside.
In the solitary darkness outside, she retrieved a cigarette, her fingers fumbling to find the elusive lighter. "Where is it… I knew I brought it," she mumbled, the soft glow of her phone's torch revealing her determined search. The night air wrapped around her like a shroud as she continued her quest.
A sudden sound shattered the quiet, causing Hyo-jin to startle. Swiftly, she raised her phone, its light piercing the darkness as she scanned her surroundings. "Who's there?" she called out, her voice echoing into the silent night. The beam of her torch revealed a rogue cat, its eyes glinting in the light. "Oh, it's just you," she muttered, attempting to coax the feline closer. However, the cat, seemingly spooked, scurried away from her. "Alright, fuck you then," Hyo-jin grumbled, standing up in mild annoyance.
Unbeknownst to her, Ghostface materialized in the shadows behind her, his ominous figure concealed by the night, as he approached silently. In one fluid motion, he drew a knife, it`s blade gleaming ominously. Without a sound, he effortlessly slit Hyo-jin's throat, a crimson river staining the quiet night.
Hyo-jin's eyes widened in an involuntary response to the sudden, searing pain. The cigarette that once dangled between her lips fell with a gentle thud to the cold ground.
Her body, suspended in that surreal moment between life and death, crumpled forward.
Ghostface stood over his lifeless victim, a silent spectator to the masterpiece he had orchestrated. The night seemed to hold its breath as he lingered momentarily, the mask concealing any hint of emotion. The cool breeze whispered through the darkness, indifferent to the gruesome scene playing out beneath its veil.
With an eerie calmness, Ghostface began his next calculated move. He crouched beside Hyo-jin's motionless body, drawing her into the shadows with a predatory grace. The crimson trail she left behind became a haunting testament to the brutality that had transpired in that quiet space.
⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅
The living room buzzed with the flickering glow of the TV as the horror movie unfolded its spine-chilling narrative. The remaining group sat together, the pale glow casting shadows across their faces.
As the credits rolled, someone in the group suggested putting on another horror movie. The group agreed, and the atmosphere in the room became tense once again. Just then, Jiwoo suddenly stood up, pulling Minho with her, and declared, "We are so tired, so we'll go to bed." With that, they vanished upstairs, the closing door shutting out any response from the rest of the group.
Yeowang, an observer of the unfolding events, watched Jiwoo and Minho saunter upstairs with an air of disapproval. Rolling her eyes, she leaned toward Yoo-mi, lips curling into a disdainful whisper. "What a slut," Yeowang hissed, and Yoo-mi, ever the loyal companion, nodded in agreement, their suppressed laughter mingling in the dimly lit room. The two continued their hushed commentary, exchanging snickers as they reveled in the judgment they cast.
Unbeknownst to the gossiping duo, a silent figure lingered outside the window, casting a dark shadow against the night. The clandestine observer vanished into the depths of the night as Jiwoo and Minho disappeared behind the bedroom door, leaving no trace of their presence.
In the intimate confines of the bedroom, Jiwoo and Minho layed in post bliss. Jiwoo giggled playfully, her eyes sparkling as she looked at Minho, who stretched and reluctantly got out of bed, pulling on a pair of pants. "Stayyy," Jiwoo pouted, her words laced with a playful plea. "Sorry, babe, gotta pop in the bathroom. I'll be right back," Minho assured her as he strolled out of the room.
Little did he know, the window, left ajar by Hayeong, served as an ominous entry point for the lurking Ghostface. As Minho locked the bathroom door, he remained oblivious to the impending danger. It was only when he glimpsed Ghostface's reflection in the mirror that realization struck, and a gasp escaped his lips, as he turned around to face his assailant.
Reacting swiftly, Ghostface threw a throwing knife with precision, embedding it in Minho's shoulder. His attempts to scream stifled by a punch to the face from the masked assailant. "Shit!" Minho exclaimed as he pushed Ghostface away, slamming the murderer against the wall.
Undeterred, Ghostface deftly retrieved the lodged knife from Minho's shoulder, brandishing it menacingly. In a swift, brutal motion, he thrust the blade into Minho's stomach, eliciting a guttural groan of pain. Minho staggered backward, only to trip over a bathroom stool.
He fell backward into the bathtub, the impact echoing through the small room. His head struck the surface, and the room filled with the sickening sound of the collision. Minho's eyes remained open, glossy and lifeless, as his blood pooled in the tub.
Ghostface, having completed his gruesome work in the bathroom, meticulously exited the confined space. Adjusting his cloak and straightening his posture, he entered the bedroom where Jiwoo lay peacefully unaware. A sinister silhouette against the dimly lit room, he stood over her, his chilling presence casting a shadow.
Lifting his arms, Ghostface brandished his knife, a glint of malice in his eyes. With a swift, deliberate motion, he plunged the blade into Jiwoo's stomach. A startled cry escaped her lips as she awoke to the nightmare before her. Desperation filled her as she attempted to retaliate, futile punches met by Ghostface's vice-like grip. The relentless onslaught continued, the repeated stabbings painting the once serene room in the stark hues of violence.
Leaving Jiwoo to bleed out on the bed, Ghostface, retraced his steps through the bathroom window, vanishing into the nocturnal abyss.
Meanwhile downsatirs, Yoo-mi, feeling a growing unease, ventured outside through the front door to check on Hyo-jin. Upon her return, she delivered the unsettling news, "Hey, Hyo-jin isn't outside anymore." Yeowang, quick to assume the worst, spat, "The bitch probably left us, again." Yoo-mi, concerned, muttered, "I don't know, she wouldn't leave like this."
Yeowang's sharp response echoed, "Did you just talk back to me?" Yoo-mi, intimidated but determined, defended herself, "No! No! It's just... I'm worried, you know?" Reluctantly, Yeowang conceded, "Ugh, fine," and turned her attention to the boys, "Why don't you two go out and find her?" Kwangsun, defensive, questioned, "Why us?" Yeowang, dismissive, replied, "Because you two are available, and it's cold. Now, go." With a wave of her hand, she refocused on the horror movie.
Joonwo and Kwangsun reluctantly complied, with Joonwo suggesting a strategy "You go through the backdoor, I'll go through the front door, and we'll meet in the middle." As Joonwo exited the front door, Kwangsun took the backdoor route.
In the living room, Yoo-mi sought reassurance, "You think they'll be okay?" Yeowang, unfazed, assured her, "Yeah, they'll be fine."
Meanwhile, Kwangsun navigated the darkness alone, squinting to discern any signs of Hyo-jin or Joonwo. The quietude was only interrupted by the gentle whooshing of the wind past his ear. As he scanned the sky, the moon was obscured by clouds, plunging him into deeper obscurity. Unbeknownst to him, a figure trailed silently behind him. Suddenly, a searing pain tore through Kwangsun's back, and he crumpled to the ground, the merciless kick from Ghostface intensifying his agony.
As Kwangsun prepared to scream, the moon emerged from behind the clouds, revealing the lifeless form of Joonwo sprawled in front of him. Before he could react, his hair was violently yanked back, and Ghostface swiftly slit his throat, extinguishing his life.
Ghostface, rose from his crouched position, before he reached into the folds of his cloak and retrieved a phone.
As the flash erupted, momentarily piercing the darkness, Ghostface captured the haunting image of death.
However, as swiftly as the moon had revealed the morbid scene, it withdrew behind the obscuring clouds once more. The sudden darkness provided Ghostface with the perfect cover, concealing his presence as he dragged the lifeless bodies. The muted sounds of his sinister task blended with the night, and Ghostface seamlessly disappeared into the shadows.
⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅
The night hung heavy with an unsettling stillness as Yoo-mi gazed into the darkness. Her voice cut through the silence, nervous with an escalating worry, "Okay, they haven't returned. Is this the time to panic?" Yeowang, seemingly unresponsive, rose from her seat and ascended the stairs with an air of determination. "Wait!" Yoo-mi pleaded, chasing after her.
In the dimly lit corridor, Yeowang halted outside the bedroom where Jiwoo and Minho had sought refuge. She knocked on the door only to be met with an silence from within. When no response came, Yeowang's hand hesitated for a moment before pushing the door ajar. What lay beyond would etch terror into their memories.
A gut-wrenching scream erupted from Yoo-mi as the door swung open, revealing the grotesque scene within. Jiwoo's lifeless body lay sprawled across the bed, a canvas of horror painted in blood and mangled flesh. Yoo-mi staggered backward causing her to open the bathroom door, her horrified gaze shifted to the now open bathroom. There, in the unforgiving cold of the bathtub, Minho's lifeless form met her gaze. Another scream tore through the air as the grim reality of their situation became undeniable.
Distraught and overwhelmed, Yoo-mi fled down the stairs, tripping on the steps, she stumbled into the chilling embrace of the living room, her anguished cries reverberating through the desolate space.
Meanwhile, Yeowang stood frozen in the upstairs corridor, the haunting images seared into her mind. A desperate determination seized her as she rushed to her room. There, amidst the remnants of her past, she found solace in a forgotten relic—a baton adorned with hues of pink and purple, a nostalgic reminder of her gymnastics days.
Haunted by the scene she witnessed, Yeowang clutched the baton tightly, her knuckles turning white.
As she descended the staircase, a sickening scene unfolded before her eyes. Joonwo's lifeless form lay sprawled on the couch, his vacant eyes reflecting the cruel finality that had befallen him. Yoo-mi, a pitiful body on the ground, cried out in agony as blood pooled beneath her. Ghostface, loomed over her with a foot pressing her down. His attention, however, pivoted towards Yeowang, his gaze fixated on her as he swiped the blood of his knife with unnerving efficiency, his chilling laughter permeating the air.
"Welcome to the party," his voice, distorted by the chilling voice changer, sent shivers down Yeowang's spine. Desperation seized her as she clutched the baton, like an inadequate shield.
"I saved you for last," Ghostface declared with a voice distorted, before he picked up Yoo-mi only to throw her against the wall, rendering her unconscious, before turning his relentless advance towards Yeowang.
Terror gripped her as she sprinted upstairs, reaching her bedroom, she fumbled to lock the door, her trembling hands betraying the fear that gripped her. In her bedroom, she fumbled for her salvation—her phone. Panic surged through her when she realized it lay downstairs on the living room table.
A sudden shock reverberated through the door as Ghostface relentlessly sought entry. "Open the door, Yeowang," his command sliced through the air, each word dripping with sadistic pleasure.
"No!" she screamed defiantly, her trembling hands fumbling with the window latch. With a surge of courage, she swung it open, revealing a daunting drop to the pool below, a shimmering oasis in the moonlit night.
The door continued to quiver under Ghostface's relentless assault, his ominous presence closing in.
The relentless assault on the door suddenly ceased, leaving Yeowang suspended in silence. Suspicion flickered in her eyes as she cast a wary glance toward the once-quaking barrier.
Suddenly, an axe splintered through the door, hacking it down with brutal force. Yeowang's scream echoed through the room as glimpses of the menacing white mask emerged. Ghostface stared intently, his gloved hand reaching to unlock the door. Just as Yeowang prepared to leap to safety, Ghostface unleashed a primal shout, hurling a dagger that found its mark in her shoulder. The searing pain sent her crashing down, the baton slipping from her grasp.
Ghostface, a looming specter, closed in. His knife poised for the final strike, but in a desperate bid, Yeowang seized her baton, swinging it towards his masked visage. With lightning reflexes, Ghostface raised his arm, blocking the blow. The precious seconds gained allowed Yeowang to scramble to her feet, sprinting towards the window. In a daring escape, she leaped into the pool below, the cold water offering a brief respite from the nightmare.
Emerging from the water, shivering and wounded, Yeowang glanced back at the window. Ghostface was momentarily absent. Swiftly, she extracted the knife embedded in her shoulder, a cry of pain escaping her lips. With determined urgency, she clambered out of the pool, crimson tendrils diffusing into the water around her.
Fearing the masked assailant might still be lurking, Yeowang cast a desperate gaze through the window into the living room. Joonwoo's lifeless form lay undisturbed, but Yoo-mi, injured and resilient, struggled to move. Yeowang recoiled, her attention caught by the absence of the phones on the table. Panic clawed at her as she began to navigate the house, a mixture of dread and sorrow swirling within.
As she approached the front, a hidden horror awaited her. Tripping over an unseen obstacle, Yeowang tumbled to the ground. A gut-wrenching sight unfolded as she discovered the lifeless bodies of Hyo-jin and Kwangsun concealed in the bushes. Tears blurred her vision as she sprinted away, abandoning the knife in her haste.
But the escape was short-lived. Charging down the porch, Yeowang's foot snagged on something, and she plummeted forward, her head colliding with the unforgiving ground, as darkness enveloped her consciousness.
⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅
Yeowang's eyes flickered open, and a wave of disorientation washed over her as she attempted to move, only to discover the cruel reality of her situation – she was bound, trapped in the confines of her own bedroom. The haunting scene unfolded before her eyes, her friends' lifeless bodies strewn about, including Yoo-mi, who now lay still and unresponsive.
"Help! Someone! Please!" she pleaded, her desperate cries echoing in the silence. A chair creaked, drawing her attention to the shadowy figure sitting in the corner, and as her eyes adjusted, she spotted Ghostface seated in a shadowy corner. "No one is coming to save you," he declared with a cold certainty.
Desperation clawed at Yeowang's throat, and she screamed for help, her pleas echoing through the chilling silence.
"Stop screaming," Ghostface intoned, his figure slowly rising from the chair. The voice changer distorted his response, rendering it menacing and cold.
Tethered and vulnerable, she tried to appeal to the masked figure, a last-ditch effort to elicit mercy.
"Aw, that's cute. You're begging for your life," Ghostface remarked, rising from the chair with deliberate slowness. He approached Yeowang, advancing toward her with predatory intent, and crouched down, his white mask mere inches from her terror-stricken face. He scrutinized her with a sinister curiosity, reveling in the vulnerability of his captive.
"Why did you even come? I'm innocent!" Yeowang protested, her voice carrying a hint of defiance. However, Ghostface erupted in a sudden burst of anger, his distorted voice reflecting the glitched fury within him. "Innocent!?" he bellowed, standing back up and brandishing a gleaming knife. The blade pointed menacingly at Yeowang, his accusation hung heavily in the air. "You are, in fact, not innocent. You hurt what was precious to me. Your friends paid for it, and now it's your turn."
"What was precious?... Oh, you mean Y/N?!" she exclaimed, connecting the dots. Ghostface remained stoic, only intensifying the aura of menace. In a tense exchange, "Listen! It was just for fun! Just a game you kow?" Yeowang attempted to justify her actions, only to be met with Ghostface's stoic silence.
The truth, a bitter pill, surfaced—Ghostface's obsession with Y/n, was a possessive love that bordered on madness.
"Why do you even care? Didn't you try and kill her at first?" Yeowang spat, her defiance resurfacing. A hesitancy lingered in the room as she dared to pose a crucial question. "You are the first Ghostface, aren't you?" Ghostface nodded affirmatively, acknowledging his origin. "I am the first... and I care because she's mine. I own Y/N, and she owns my heart and soul. I would do anything to keep her happy," he declared, a rare glimpse into the twisted motivation that fueled his actions.
With an ominous deliberateness, Ghostface removed the clasps securing his mask, revealing the face beneath. A shockwave of horror coursed through Yeowang as recognition set in. "Heeseung?!" she screeched, attempting to recoil from the revelation. "It's been you this entire time!? But why?" she demanded, her voice a desperate plea for answers.
"You've watched enough horror movies, Yeowang, to know there's always motives. Mine is just personal," Heeseung uttered, his voice devoid of remorse.
With an almost mechanical precision, Heeseung adorned the Ghostface mask once again. The chilling transformation marked the end of any semblance of humanity, like a switch flipped between the person behind the mask and the ruthless harbinger of terror. The room became a theater of agony as Ghostface thrust the knife into Yeowang's chest, cruelly twisting it for maximum torment before extracting it with a grisly finality. Yeowang's agonized screams pierced the air, echoing in the chamber of death. Desperation gripped her as she struggled to draw breath, yet the encroaching numbness signaled the approach of death.
"Party's over," Ghostface declared. The last flicker of Yeowang's life bore witness to the white mask, as she accepted death.
In the aftermath, Ghostface lingered, a silent witness to the massacre of death he had orchestrated. With a swift, practiced motion, he swiped his knife, cleansing the blood before he departed the room with a purposeful stride, descending into the shadows.
Leaving the house behind, Ghostface embarked on a solitary journey into the night.
⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅
As you sat on the couch, playing with your brother by your side, the tranquility of the day was shattered by the intrusive news spreading like wildfire throughout the city. The television broadcasted the shocking report, detailing the gruesome massacre that had occurred during the sleepover.
The once-grand mansion was now a crime scene, adorned with police tape that crisscrossed the entire property, and law enforcement vehicles surrounded the premises. Your eyes were fixed on the television screen, shock etched across your face as the news reporter stood in front of the crime scene.
"We have received reports that the victims have been identified as Kang Hyo-jin, Shin Jiwoo, Kang Minho, Bong Kwangsun, Kim Junwoo, Choi Hayeong, Park Yoo-mi, Jung Kwan, and Jeon Yeowang," the reporter solemnly announced, the weight of each name resonating in the air. The police inspector, Do-shik, stood by her side, his weary expression a testament to the magnitude of the tragedy.
"We have reason to believe that this is the work of our first Ghostface, by the pattern he executed in this mindless slaughter," Do-shik disclosed, his words sending a chill down your spine. The news reporter pressed for answers about the actions being taken for the grieving families, and Do-shik, burdened by the responsibility, assured justice and respect for the victims.
As the conversation continued, the realization that Heeseung, had committed these heinous acts sank in. The numbness enveloped you, making it difficult to comprehend the gravity of the situation. You couldn't fathom how he managed to execute such a massacre in a single night without being apprehended.
"Y/N?" Your brother's voice broke through your reverie, and you felt the physical sensation of being shaken. "Wha-?" you mumbled, your mind struggling to process the information. "Are you okay? You didn't answer me," he inquired, concern etched on his face. "Yeah, yeah. I'm okay," you responded.
"I need to get some air," you declared, rising from the couch and leaving the house without uttering another word. The weight of the revelations pressed down on you as you stepped into the open air.
The streets stretched before you as you navigated through the town, each step resonating with the echo of your conflicted emotions. Eventually the sunlight began to wane, casting long shadows across the pavement, and the familiar sights of the town started to transform under the softening hues of dusk.
As you meandered through the streets, you found yourself drawn to a nearby park. The familiar landscape offered a temporary refuge, and you made a spontaneous decision to linger. You gravitated towards a swing set, the rhythmic creaking accompanying the subtle sounds of nature.
Time seemed to blur as you swung back and forth, the gentle breeze carrying whispers of the day.
As the day transitioned into evening, you checked your phone to find it was already 8PM. A notification from your mom appeared, a reminder that cut through the quiet of the moment. She requested you to stop by the grocery store if you had time. The responsibility tugged at your thoughts, and you agreed to her request, assuring her that you would take care of the groceries.
Leaving the swing set behind, you walked away from the park, your surroundings bathed in the amber glow of streetlights beginning to flicker to life. The town retained a semblance of activity; a few people strolled on the sidewalks, and cars passed by intermittently.
Deep in contemplation, you traversed the familiar routes until, almost unconsciously, your steps led you to Heeseung's house in the outskirts of town. Heeseung, an adult living alone, bore the scars of a fractured family, his mother absent, and his father, a figure you suspected was better off beneath the earth.
His residence, an isolated abode, stood silent against the backdrop of the night. You knocked, and the hush persisted for a moment, fostering the fleeting notion that perhaps he wasn't home. Just as the doubt crept in, the shuffling of feet reached your ears, and the door swung open to reveal Heeseung. The dampness in his hair suggested a recent shower, and the grin on his face faded into a look of surprise when he noticed your serious expression.
"Angel," he greeted, the warmth in his voice attempting to breach the solemn atmosphere. "Can we talk?" you asked, your tone cutting through the casual air. Heeseung's surprise deepened, and he nodded, inviting you in. The door closed behind you, shutting out the outside world, and you were met with the soft patter of paws reaching your ears, and you saw Dongsik, Heeseung's cat, racing towards you. You knelt down, lifting the feline into your arms.
Settling in the living room, you cradled Dongsik in your lap, stroking his fur. The weight of the conversation hung in the air as you mustered the courage to address the chilling reality. "Heeseung… I saw the news," you began, your voice steady.
"You did not need to kill them," you asserted, hoping for a flicker of remorse in Heeseung's gaze. However, his eyes bore no trace of regret. "They deserved it. They hurt you, and I hurt them back," he stated, his nonchalant demeanor sending a chill down your spine.
Rising from his seated position, Heeseung advanced towards you, his movements fluid yet purposeful. As he closed the distance, his hand gently cradled your chin, tilting your head upward. The touch was possessive, his fingers warm against your skin, yet there was an underlying intensity that betrayed the dark determination within him.
In that moment, his eyes, once familiar and comforting, now held a darker, inscrutable depth.
"I made them regret every breathing the same air as you," he murmured, the words laden with a sinister satisfaction. His voice, usually a source of reassurance, now carried an unsettling edge. His gaze traced a path across your face, studying each contour as if searching for a reaction.
Caught in the intensity of his gaze, you couldn't help but gulp, the sound echoing in the charged silence. His eyes, fixated on your lips, followed the subtle movement as your tongue moistened them.
But you couldn't let the gravity of his actions escape scrutiny. Stepping back, you placed Dongsik on the ground and distanced yourself. "I do not want you to proceed with this," you implored, your voice tinged with urgency. "What if you get caught? Have you ever thought about that?" you questioned, your concern etched on your face. Heeseung, however, dismissed your fears with unwavering confidence. "I won't get caught. Trust me. I'm careful."
The proximity of his hands, once stained with the blood of others, triggered a sense of unease. "No, Heeseung, I can't do this now," you declared, your voice faltering. "I can't continue doing this."
"What?" Heeseung asked, his surprise mirroring the gravity of your words. "This, whatever we have? This? It's over!" you cried out, your emotions spilling over. Heeseung's gaze narrowed, the intensity of his feelings clashing with the sudden turn of events. "Angel, you can't—" he began, but you cut him off.
"You won't let me break up, but I can't bear you killing people!" you exclaimed, your words echoing in the room. The reality of grieving families planning funerals weighed heavily on your conscience. "You have let out a curse on this town, and for what? What is your motive, Heeseung? Why do you murder?" you demanded, your frustration boiling over.
"It's none of your business!" Heeseung retorted, his defensive stance highlighting the growing tension. "So you don't trust me? Is that it?" you questioned, the hurt evident in your eyes. "No, that's not it, baby, please," Heeseung pleaded, attempting to reach for you. However, you recoiled, creating a physical and emotional distance. "No, that's exactly what it is, isn't it? How can I trust you when you don't even trust me?" you articulated.
"A murderer kills because they are crazy, right? How do I know that you won`t kill me eventually?" you posed the unnerving question, the gravity of the situation casting a shadow over the room. "Yeah, this is all a game for you, isn't it? Trick me, then hurt me, and finish me off, right?" A bitter laugh escaped your lips as you clutched your hair in frustration.
"God, I wish you had just killed me!" you shouted, the anguish and frustration consuming you. With those words hanging in the air, you ran out the door, tears streaming down your face. "Y/N!" Heeseung shouted, attempting to chase after you. The rush of adrenaline urged you forward as you sprinted towards the more populated downtown, seeking solace in the anonymity of the bustling streets.
The relentless torrent of tears blurred your vision as you ran, the world a distorted mosaic of shadows and hazy streetlights. The weight on your chest felt unbearable, forcing you to gasp for breath as you sought refuge. The grocery store loomed ahead, a dimly lit sanctuary promising a momentary escape from the turmoil.
Leaning against the cool exterior wall of the store, you heaved deep breaths, each inhalation a struggle against the emotional storm that raged within. You swiped away your tears before you walked into the store. The door swung open with a hushed chime as you entered
The interior of the store appeared almost deserted, bathed in the artificial glow of overhead lights. A half-sleeping cashier lethargically manned the register, and an employee, lost in their cleaning duties, contributed to the quiet. Only two other customers wandered the aisles, their presence barely registering in the dim atmosphere.
With the basket in hand, you moved with a mechanical precision, guided by the monotony of your music. The list from your mother directed your movements as you navigated the aisles, the rhythmic beat in your ears providing a temporary respite from the emotional whirlwind.
Little did you anticipate the impending descent into chaos. The automatic doors whispered open, and a tall figure draped in a cloak stepped inside, an aura of malevolence accompanying their entrance.
The scene unfolded with chilling swiftness. Ghostface, concealed in the ominous cloak, advanced towards the unsuspecting cashier. A gloved hand silenced desperate cries before a blade flashed, cutting through the silence and life alike. The shotgun followed suit, the explosive sound resonating through the hushed aisles as it claimed another victim.
The sudden violence ruptured the fragile tranquility, and you instinctively tore out your earbuds, alert to the nightmare unfolding around you. Panicking, you instinctively sought cover behind a freezer, heart pounding as the screams reverberated through the aisles.
Silence settled, broken only by the haunting voice that emerged. "I know you are here, Y/N. Why don't you come out and make this much easier for us both and give yourself up now?" it intoned, a cruel invitation to surrender. Determined, you pulled up your pant leg, revealing the butterfly knife Heeseung had insisted you learn to use. The blade swished open, and you crouched in the shadows.
Ghostface continued his monologue, preaching a distorted sense of purpose. You, however, were focused on survival. Moving stealthily between the aisles, you checked your phone's camera at every turn, ensuring your unseen adversary was still out of sight.
Crawling on the ground, disregarding its grime, you moved with a mix of fear and determination.
Ghostface's taunts echoed, filled with promises of a twisted sense of justice. Moving with a catlike grace, you listened intently for any sign of Ghostface. Their voice droned on, but you paid it little attention, your focus locked on survival.
The aisles of the grocery store bore witness to a gruesome scene of tragedy as you stumbled upon the lifeless bodies of the employee and another customer. Their corpses layed, eyes frozen wide in terror, faces eternally contorted in the agony of their final moments. The metallic scent of blood hung heavy in the air, and you couldn't help but draw a shaky breath as you crawled towards the fallen employee.
Carefully, you approached the employee's still form, with a delicate touch, you reached for the keys hanging from their belt. The metallic jingle seemed deafening in the heavy silence that enveloped the gruesome scene.
As you retreated to a safer spot and peered around the corner, your eyes widened. Ghostface, stood amidst the aisles, holding the shotgun with an unsettling ease. His dark cloak billowed as he surveyed the surroundings, the mask betraying no emotions.
"Y/n!" he bellowed, the deep voice echoing through the desolate store. You remained still, concealed in the shadows, refusing to yield to his demands. "This isn't funny anymore. Come out... face me, you-you bitch!" he shouted, his frustration palpable.
His tone softened suddenly, an unexpected vulnerability seeping into his words. "I need you, Y/n. I need you here," he mumbled to himself, pacing away. A perplexed expression crossed your face as you watched him retreat, his erratic behavior leaving you both bewildered and cautious.
Seizing the opportune moment, you silently made your move. Crawling towards the backdoor, you clutched the stolen keys tightly, ensuring they made no sound. Ghostface's sporadic mutterings echoed through the store as he grew more agitated.
Reaching the backdoor, you fumbled through the keys, testing each one until the lock clicked open. The metallic sound felt deafening in the oppressive quiet. As the door unlocked, you grabbed the handle, ready to make a swift exit.
"There you are!"
Your heart pounded as you turned, eyes meeting the menacing figure standing just beyond the threshold. His shotgun aimed at you, you scrambled inside, slamming the door shut. The resounding gunshot echoed in your ears, a chilling reminder of how narrowly you had evaded death.
You wasted no time locking the door, the thump on the other side signaling Ghostface's frustration. The adrenaline surged through your veins as you retreated, navigating the labyrinthine storage room with urgency. The persistent echo of Ghostface's threats spurred you forward, each step a calculated move toward survival in this ghastly game of cat and mouse.
As you sprinted through the labyrinthine storage room of the store, the dim emergency exit sign beckoned you towards safety. Fingers trembling, you pushed the door open and burst into the cool night air. Panic set in as you dialed the police, the desperate plea in your voice cutting through the darkness.
"Miss, what can i help you with," the calm voice on the other end asked. " He's chasing after me! Ghostface is here! " you retorted, the terror resonating in your words. "All units are tracking your positions!" the voice replied.
A gunshot cracked through the air, and you glanced back to witness Ghostface, relentless and determined, hot on your heels. His ominous presence fueled your fear, propelling you forward in a desperate bid for survival.
In a moment of terror, Ghostface lunged at you, the force of his leap toppling you to the unforgiving ground. Your phone and knife clattered away, but with a surge of adrenaline, you rolled out of his grasp, swift and agile. Retrieving your knife, you abandoned your phone, the urgency of escape outweighing the need for communication.
The pursuit continued through the dimly lit streets, your breaths ragged and the cityscape blurring as you pushed your body to its limits. I will get you! You little bitch! You can't run from me, Y/n!"
The burn in your lungs and the relentless pounding of your heart fueled your determination to get away from the masked killer.
Vaulting over a fence, you cast a desperate glance over your shoulder. Ghostface closed in, his knife glinting ominously. With a swift maneuver, you veered to the left, finding refuge behind a hedge. The element of surprise played in your favor as you lunged at Ghostface, the blade of your knife finding its mark.
He howled in pain, an unexpected turn of events that left him wounded and disoriented. However, before you could savor your fleeting victory, Ghostface retaliated. Gripping you around the waist, he flung you to the ground, the impact stealing the air from your lungs.
Yet, salvation was imminent. By now, the lights in the surrounding houses flickered to life, and the distant wail of police sirens grew louder. Ghostface, now wounded and vulnerable, weighed his options. "Shit!" he exclaimed, his gaze darting between you and the encroaching law enforcement.
In a desperate bid to escape the imminent capture, Ghostface vanished into the shadows, leaving behind a wake of horrified onlookers. The chilling cries of "It's Ghostface!" and "It's the killer!" echoed through the neighborhood as the police closed in.
As you stood amidst the chaos, gasping for breath, it was in this disoriented state that you realized your knife, the very tool Heeseung had gifted you, was nowhere to be found. Panic and frustration intertwined as your eyes darted around the vicinity, searching for the glint of metal against the darkened pavement. But it was futile – the blade had vanished.
Then, the revelation hit you like a sudden gust of cold wind. A twisted sense of irony settled in as you connected the dots. Your knife, now lay embedded in the very source of the terror that had haunted your dreams.
A wry, bitter chuckle escaped your lips as you contemplated the absurdity of the situation. There goes Heeseung's gift, now an unwitting participant in the dark legacy of Ghostface that he had created. How ironic, you thought.
As the police surrounded you, you could only ponder the inexplicable twists of fate that had led you to this moment. "Why is it always me?" echoed in your thoughts. You were then ushered home, where your disheveled mother and worried brother awaited.
⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅
After a week's absence, you returned to school, hoping for a semblance of normalcy. However, the moment you stepped onto the crowded campus, it felt like a tidal wave of students engulfed you. The sea of faces, voices clamoring over one another, and the proximity of people made panic grip your heart. The air felt thick, and you struggled to breathe as your vision blurred, overwhelmed by the chaotic environment.
With each step, the suffocating feeling intensified. It seemed like there was no escape, and you closed your eyes, attempting to shut out the sensory overload. The world was too loud, too close, and you pressed your hands to your ears in a desperate attempt to block it all out.
And then, a sudden quiet descended.
Opening your eyes, you found yourself facing someone's back. A familiar voice cut through the silence, "Back it up! Back it up! Give her some space! Ever heard of personal space?" It was Jungwon and Ni-ki, chasing away the dispersing crowd. Sunghoon stood by your side, his concern evident. The other boys formed a protective shield around you, except for Heeseung.
"Are you okay, Y/N?" Sunghoon asked, worry etched on his face. "Yeah… yeah, I'm okay," you replied, glancing at the boys with gratitude.
"Thank you, guys," you whispered.
"You're welcome, Y/N. People really have no respect," Jay remarked.
"Come on," Jake suggested, extending his hand toward you. You took it, feeling a sense of security as they flanked you, walking together towards your class. You noticed how others instinctively kept their distance.
Curiosity crept in, and you couldn't help but ask, "Why is everyone like this?" Their hesitation was palpable.
"What?" you pressed. "Well… how do I say this, Y/N... The video footage of the store was kinda leaked, so everyone saw how you survived," Sunoo explained reluctantly.
Shocked, you hadn't been on social media during your absence. Your mother had been vigilant, keeping you and your brother under close watch, and your lost phone remained unretrieved from the chaotic events. "Can I see?" you inquired.
They exchanged glances before Ni-ki stepped forward, tapping on his phone and showing you the video. Watching the footage from entering the store to seeking refuge in the storage room, you handed Ni-ki his phone back, muttering a soft "Wow."
As they asked about your well-being, you couldn't muster a definitive answer. "I don't know… I think I want to be alone now," you admitted, walking the rest of the way to class in solitude, grappling with the sudden spotlight on your survival.
⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅
The school day unfolded as a mix of emotions and overwhelming attention. Everywhere you went, students sought your company, asking questions, expressing concern, or simply wanting to be associated with the survivor of the store incident. While the incessant attention was draining, you couldn't deny the relief of not constantly glancing over your shoulder, anticipating Yeowang's presence or the sting of hurtful comments from her followers. Heeseung's drastic actions had severed those ties, but the weight of the consequences lingered in the air.
Lunchtime offered a temporary escape, and amid the bustling cafeteria, you found a moment to inquire about Heeseung's absence. Turning to Jay, who was seated beside you, you popped the question that had been lingering in your mind. "Where's Heeseung?" you asked, genuinely curious. Jay, pausing from his meal, looked at you with a quizzical expression. "Heeseung? He's sick," he answered matter-of-factly. Your eyes widened in surprise. "You didn't know?" Jay questioned again. "Oh, no, I didn't," you replied, processing the unexpected information. "Well, maybe he forgot to tell you. He asked us to watch over you when you returned," Jay added before returning his attention to his food.
The revelation about Heeseung's sickness left you with a mix of emotions. You hadn't anticipated this news, and a sense of unease settled over you. The boys, it seemed, were keeping a close eye on you at Heeseung's behest.
Upon arriving home, your mother greeted you, "There you are! Here, honey," she exclaimed, holding out a familiar object in her hands. Your eyes widened with delight as she handed you your long-lost phone. "You found it!" you exclaimed, the joy evident in your voice as you accepted the device.
"Yes, I did. Sorry, it took so long," your mom apologized, her tone tinged with relief. "It's okay, Mom," you reassured her, appreciating her effort to recover your belongings. With a grateful smile, you declared your intention to retreat to your room. "I'm going to my room," you announced, "Okay, honey," your mom responded, her attention already shifting to the kitchen.
Retreating to your room, you plugged the phone into the charger, watching as the screen came to life. The device was flooded with notifications, but among them, Heeseung's attempts to reach you stood out. Eighty-eight missed calls and 113 unread messages painted a vivid picture of his persistence. However, you decided against delving into the messages. The idea of conversing with him felt overwhelming, and you needed time to process everything.
The remainder of the day became a sanctuary of solitude, spent either in your room or with your brother. As night fell, you found yourself alone in your bed, the familiar struggle to sleep resurfaced. Glancing at the watch, the harsh glow of the screen revealed the lateness of the hour — nearing 2:30 AM. With a heavy sigh, you turned your gaze back to the ceiling, the weight of memories threatened to pull you into a realm you desperately wished to forget. The scene replayed in your mind, a vivid flashback to a moment etched in pain and humiliation.
Flashback:
The air was thick with tension as you found yourself behind the school, isolated and vulnerable, devoid of Heeseung's protective presence. The silence that enveloped the secluded spot was soon shattered by the cruel laughter of those who reveled in your vulnerability.
In the grim backstage of the school building, Yeowang and her lackeys emerged like shadows, their intentions clear. The boyfriend of one of the girls seized you, his grip unyielding, rendering any attempts at escape futile.
One of the girls held your bag hostage, a sinister grin etched on her face as she poured a smoothie into its depths, saturating your belongings. The cold liquid seeped through your bag, a metaphor for the cold disdain they harbored.
Yeowang, the puppeteer orchestrating the torment, reveled in her power, her words laced with venom. "You really are a pathetic bitch, you know that?" Yeowang's voice dripped with disdain, a venomous taunt that sought to corrode your spirit. "Can't even go a day without your bodyguards.
Silence was your armor, a refusal to grant them the satisfaction of seeing you crumble. "I run this school! You hear me? Everyone wants me! Everyone answers to me!" Yeowang declared, her voice rising to a crescendo of arrogance.
Hateful glares were exchanged, and then, the resounding slap — a manifestation of her simmering rage.
A bitter glare was your only retort. "Well, you're doing a shit job at having everyone wanting you," you shot back, the words slicing through the tension like a knife. The impending storm erupted as Yeowang, seething with rage, prepared for another strike.
Refusing to succumb, you summoned strength from a reservoir of resilience. A swift punch to the guy's shin, a headbutt to his nose, and you were free. "Fuck! The bitch hit me in the motherfucking nose!" the boyfriend cried out, releasing his grip in pain. Seizing the opportunity, you launched yourself at Yeowang, a tempest of fists raining down on her.
The tables turned as you unleashed a torrent of punches on Yeowang, the once-confident bully now a target of your retribution.
Blood painted the scene as your fists found their mark, the visceral satisfaction of justice propelling each blow. The other girls, attempting to intervene, were met with your unrelenting force. Yeowang's hair became a makeshift handle as you screamed into her face, asserting your defiance. "Who`s the pathethic fucking bitch now?!" you declared, punctuating the statement with a final blow. As she staggered to her feet, blood-stained and defeated, her parting words echoed in the night air — "This isn't over!"
Breathing heavily, you watched them retreat into the darkness, a sense of triumph lingering in the air. With deep breaths, you salvaged what remained of your belongings.
A whimper from the fallen boy drew your attention. Standing over him, you asserted your demand for restitution. "Ey, asshole. You owe me a new bag and supplies," you declared, unyielding in the face of his feeble protests.
End of Flashback.
As the memory faded, you found yourself staring up at the ceiling, the weight of the past pressing against your chest, as another memory resurfaced
2nd Flashback:
The bathroom, a sanctuary of sorts, offered a brief respite from the chaos that often trailed in your wake. Alone, you stood by the sink, the cool water flowing over your hands. The door creaked open, revealing the unwelcome entrance of Yeowang.
"What now," you muttered, a weariness etched in your voice.
"You're dead," Yeowang declared, her words a venomous promise as she advanced with an air of calculated malice. Resigned, you met her gaze, your eyes betraying neither fear nor defiance. "Well, too bad I'm still alive," you retorted, the fatigue in your voice veiled behind a thin layer of indifference.
Yeowang, infuriated by your lack of submission, launched an attack. Her attempt at physical intimidation manifested in a swing of her hand, aimed at striking you into submission. Yet, in that moment, the reflexes of a survivor kicked in. You caught her wrist with a practiced ease, the strength beneath your seemingly fragile exterior taking her by surprise.
"Is that all you have?" you questioned, your voice laced with an exhaustion that transcended the physical. A gentle push sent her stumbling backward, her gasp of shock echoing in the tiled confines of the restroom.
"You worthless bitch! What does Heeseung even see in you?" Yeowang spat. Unmoved, you stood your ground, the echo of her insults bouncing off the bathroom walls. "I'm much better than you," she added, a final attempt to wound before she turned and left, the door closing with a hollow thud.
End of flashback.
As the memory dissipated, you sighed, the weight of Yeowang's animosity slowly lifting. Closing your eyes, you sought solace in the darkness, finally ridding yourself of the specter that haunted your past. Yet, amid the tranquility, Yeowang's last words lingered in the recesses of your mind — "What does Heeseung even see in you?"
The question, a lingering doubt, seized your thoughts, an elusive enigma that would accompany you into the realm of dreams. Exhaustion, both physical and emotional, finally claimed you, pulling you into a restless slumber, where the shadows of the past continued to dance at the periphery of your subconscious.
⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅
The soothing hum of the library enveloped you as you sat with the boys, engrossed in your study materials. Ni-ki, positioned beside you, couldn't resist stealing glances at your work. Aware of his glances, you decided to address the matter. "Ni-ki, I can see you looking. I can just help you," you offered, your voice carrying a hint of amusement.
"No, no, I'm fine, really!" Ni-ki hastily responded, attempting to assure you. Your eyes rolled in response, a subtle expression of your disbelief. Despite his protests, you returned your attention to your work, a faint smile lingering on your lips.
The rhythmic quietude was disrupted by the sudden entrance of Jake, his figure a whirlwind of excitement as he sprinted towards your table, arms waving emphatically. Jungwon voiced the collective curiosity, asking, "What's up with him?" Jake, breathless, stopped by the occupied table, a piece of paper clutched in his hands.
"Guys!" he exclaimed, momentarily drowned out by a nearby shush from an irritated student. Apologetically, Jake mumbled an apology to the disgruntled individual before focusing on the group again. His announcement resonated with enthusiasm, "Guys, there's a Halloween party coming up this Friday at Hyunjin's house!"
Intrigued by the unexpected announcement, Sunoo, voiced the question on everyone's minds. "Halloween party?" he inquired. Jake's affirmative nod unleashed a ripple of reactions, from raised eyebrows to exchanged glances.
However, Jay, interjected with a touch of seriousness. "So let me see if I understood this... there's a party this Halloween, despite the fact that we live in an unsafe town?" His inquiry injected a note of caution, prompting a brief pause in the group's excitement as they considered the potential risks associated with attending a festive gathering in the current environment.
Just as uncertainty lingered, a new voice chimed in, and all heads turned to see Hyunjin, who sauntered up and casually slung an arm around Jake's neck. "It`ll be fun guys!" Hyunjin pointed out, "Besides! I hired security to stand guard! And the place will be packed. Only those with private invitations get in! So everyone will be held accountable!"
Hyunjin's explanation seemed to alleviate some concerns. As a gesture of encouragement, he set down five private invitations. Jake, already holding one, received an extra burst of excitement. "See you all this Friday!" Hyunjin declared, leaving the library with an air of confidence.
The group momentarily sobered, caught between the allure of a party and the reality of their surroundings.
However, Jake's plea for company quickly shifted the focus. "Come on, guys, pleaseee! I don't wanna go alone," he implored, pulling an empty chair to the table and joining Ni-ki, and you couldn't help but notice Jake's puppy-dog eyes fixed on you. Eyes turned towards you, the only girl in the group, as you reached for one of the invitations. The golden letters on the Halloween-themed background spoke of festivities and fun, inviting participants to wear costumes, with additional details about security and the address.
Despite knowing your mother might not permit you to attend, the earnestness in Jake's eyes prompted a smile and a nod from you. The boys, each securing an invitation, burst into lively discussion about the upcoming event. Sunoo's excitement over costumes and Sunghoon's reminiscence of past parties echoed through the library, and you found solace in the distraction from your own thoughts.
Amidst the lively chatter, your attention briefly strayed to your phone, thoughts of Heeseung, absent for days due to sickness, tugged at your heart. Days had passed since you last saw or heard from him, as he had been notably absent from the recent killing spree.
You did feel a mix of pride for his restraint and worry for his sudden disappearance.
While the boys immersed themselves in costume ideas displayed on Jake's computer screen, the realization struck— you missed Heeseung. The void left by his absence flooded your mind. The real smiles, the scent of his cologne, the sound of his voice, his tender kisses, and the protective embrace that made you feel cherished—all of it tugged at your heart.
Despite your attempt to ignore the emotions welling up inside you, you remained oblivious to the devious plans the boys were quietly hatching, a surprise destined to unfold on the night of the Halloween party.
⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅
The soft glow of fairy lights adorned Sunoo's bedroom, casting a warm and inviting ambiance. Yet, the atmosphere clashed with the rising tension within you. "Are you joking with me?" you asked, standing in the middle of the room, a sense of skepticism etched across your face. Sunoo, with an excited glint in his eyes, had taken it upon himself to select your Halloween costume. Trusting him with this responsibility now felt like a leap of faith you were questioning.
On Sunoo's bed lay the ensemble he had chosen for you – an angel costume. The short, ethereal white dress poofed out at the bottom, giving it an otherworldly charm. White gloves, elegantly reaching to your elbows, accompanied the outfit. A delicate headband connected to a halo rested on the bed, awaiting it`s place atop your head. White tights, adorned with diamonds intricately stitched into the fabric, a pair of pristine white heels and soft, pelt-like angel wings completed the ensemble.
You cautiously touched the wings, surprised by their softness, "It's a pretty costume, Y/n! Come on, give it a try!" Sunoo pleaded with an infectious enthusiasm. "Fine…but only because I don't have anything else, and the party is in one hour."
As Sunoo gave you an encouraging thumbs up, he exited the room, leaving you to change. Closing the door behind him, you took a deep breath, eyeing the costume. The room echoed with your murmured mantra, "This is crazy, this is crazy," as you began the process of changing into the attire.
After finishing changing into the angel costume Sunoo had chosen for you, you stepped in front of the mirror to assess the result. As you looked at your reflection, a sense of relief washed over you—you looked okay. With a twirl, you tested the movement of the skirt, pleased to see it held its shape beautifully. Amidst the ensemble, a pearly waistbead adorned your waist, its lustrous pearls gleaming softly in the dim light. A black heart, connected the pearls, adding a subtle yet captivating contrast to the purity of your costume. Additionally, a layered pearly necklace graced your neck, at the center, a heart pendant adorned with intricate wings hung delicately, perfectly complementing the angelic theme of your attire.
"Y/n?" Sunoo's voice came from behind the door, accompanied by a light knock. "Are you finished?" he asked.
"Yeah, I'm finished," you replied, confirming your readiness.
Sunoo eagerly opened the door and entered the room, his eyes lighting up as he caught sight of you. With an enthusiastic grin, he clapped his hands and bounced lightly on his feet. "You look so beautiful, Y/n!" he exclaimed, his genuine compliment warming your heart.
"Really?" you responded, still a bit uncertain.
"Of course! I would never lie to you!" Sunoo reassured you before grabbing his own costume—a simple pirate outfit—and preparing to get ready.
As you applied the finishing touches to your hair and makeup, you soon felt satisfied with your appearance. Descending the stairs in your costume, you found Sunoo already heading out the front door towards the car. And Jay, dressed as The Joker, was assisting Jungwon with his car racer costume.
"What are you supposed to be?" you asked Jungwon.
"I'm supposed to be a car racer who died in a car crash and—" Jungwon paused mid-sentence as he turned to face you, his expression mirroring Sunoo's excitement. "Wow, Y/n! You look amazing!" he exclaimed, rushing over to you and taking your hands in his.
"Thank you, Jungwon!" you replied, returning his smile.
Jay, who had also turned to see you, was momentarily speechless. "Wow…" he whispered, clearly impressed. "You will definitely win the prettiest costume," he declared.
"There are awards?" you asked, surprised.
"Yeah! Hyunjin put it together last minute as a treat," Jungwon explained as he guided you out to the waiting car, with Jay following suit.
Taking your place in the passenger seat as Jay drove, you glanced out at the streets, observing the groups of trick-or-treaters and families celebrating Halloween together. "The others will meet us at the party," Jungwon informed, looking up from his phone.
"Oh, fun!" Sunoo exclaimed, anticipation evident in his voice.
As Jay parked the car a bit away from Hyunjin's house, you all stepped out into the night. The air was filled with the distant sound of music and laughter, and the glow of colorful lights illuminated the sky above Hyunjin's mansion. The driveway was packed with cars, and groups of people in various costumes were milling around, chatting and laughing.
Jungwon led the way, striding confidently towards the imposing front doors of the mansion. A security guard stood watch, checking invitations as guests arrived. You, Jay, and Sunoo followed closely behind Jungwon, anticipation building with every step.
"Invites?" the guard asked as you approached. You reached into your purse and retrieved the slip of paper, handing it to the guard. He glanced at it briefly before nodding and allowing you to pass.
Stepping inside, you were immediately struck by the grandeur of Hyunjin's family mansion. The interior was vast and dimly lit, with the only sources of light being the moonlight streaming through the windows and the pulsating lights from the dance floor.
A sweeping staircase led up to the second floor, where silhouettes of partygoers could be seen mingling and dancing. The sound of music filled the air, accompanied by the occasional cheer or burst of laughter.
You squinted against the flashing lights and spotted the DJ, Changbin, stationed at his booth, dressed as a zombie.
"Come on!" Sunoo's enthusiastic call broke through the noise. He eagerly pulled you and the rest of the group towards a living room area where some guests were taking a break on the couches. As you approached, you noticed Ni-ki sitting on one of the couches, dressed as Luigi, looking somewhat irritated as he sipped on a drink. Next to him sat Jake, dressed as Mario, laughing uproariously at something.
Ni-ki spotted you and waved, a relieved smile spreading across his face. "Finally!" he exclaimed, quickly bouncing off the couch to greet you. "Wow, you guys look amazing!" he complimented, his annoyance momentarily forgotten. You and the rest of the group thanked him, exchanging smiles.
The conversation took an unexpected turn as Jake, clearly a bit tipsy, giggled and made a comment about Heeseung's hypothetical reaction to seeing you. Confusion flashed across your face as you turned to the others, noticing their guilty expressions. "Heeseung is here?" you inquired, surprised by the revelation.
Before anyone could respond, you heard your name being called from behind. You turned around, as you laid eyes on Sunghoon approaching you. Dressed as a vampire, he exuded an air of elegance, his cloak billowing behind him as he walked. "You look amazing!" Sunghoon complimented sincerely, his warm smile momentarily easing your discomfort. "Thank you, you too."
However, it was the figure standing awkwardly behind Sunghoon that made your stomach churn. Heeseung stood there, dressed as a demon, his appearance sending a wave of mixed emotions coursing through you. Simple yet undeniably captivating in his black attire, Heeseung's unbuttoned shirt revealed his collarbones, and a silver chain hung around his neck. Black horns protruded from his slicked-back hair, and a pair of black wings adorned his back, completing the demonic ensemble.
As you took in his appearance, you couldn't help but feel a mix of anger, confusion, and longing wash over you.
With a sharp glare, you directed your gaze towards the boys, who attempted to appear innocent under your scrutiny. However, their guilty expressions betrayed them, and they instinctively backed away from your piercing stare. Clearly, they were responsible for orchestrating this couple costume setup, and you vowed silently to exact revenge on them soon.
"You look good," Heeseung's voice interrupted your silent standoff, drawing your attention back to him. Studying him closely now, you noticed the recent events had taken a toll on him. His eyes were tired, rimmed with dark circles, and he seemed notably thinner. "Thanks... you too," you replied, masking your concern with a polite response. Heeseung shrugged. "Thanks but, it wasn't my idea, Jake got me the costume," he admitted, his gaze dropping to his attire.
Forcing a smile, you turned your attention back to the boys, who now seemed to be squirming under your murderous stare. They were the culprits behind this whole ordeal, and they knew it. You relaxed your expression slightly as you turned back to Heeseung. "It wasn't mine either, Sunoo got me this," you explained, playing with the hem of your dress nervously.
"Well, it's pretty," Heeseung admitted, his nervousness evident as he bit his bottom lip. Surprised by his sincerity, you simply nodded in acknowledgment. Jungwon intervened, suggesting a drink, and you allowed him to lead you away from Heeseung.
Navigating through the crowded party, you and Jungwon eventually reached the spacious kitchen. Bottles of alcohol and snacks lined the long island, and Jungwon wasted no time in fixing himself a drink. You grabbed a drink for yourself and downed it in one gulp before turning to Jungwon with a pointed question.
"Did you know about it?" you asked, your tone laced with accusation. Jungwon stiffened at your tone, attempting to defend himself. "I didn't want to actually participate—" he began, but you cut him off, unimpressed by his excuses. "But you did know about it, and you didn't tell me?" you interjected sharply.
Jungwon pleaded innocence, claiming it was all Jake's idea. Despite his apology, you grumbled in frustration, punching him lightly in the arm. "Ow!" Jungwon protested, rubbing the spot where you had hit him, but you merely shrugged, determined to exact revenge on the boys for their deception.
"Hey Y/n! you're here?" A cheerful voice called out, pulling your attention away from the crowd. It was Yuna, one of your classmates, dressed as Carrie from the horror novel. Beside her stood Giselle, adorned in a witch costume. "Hello," you greeted them warmly, a smile playing on your lips.
"I'm going out," Giselle announced, grabbing a bottle of soju from the fridge before making her exit. Yuna flashed you a friendly smile and poured herself a drink. "I like your costume!" she complimented you. "Thanks, I like yours too," you replied, returning the compliment.
"Hey, a few of us were going out, do you want to join?" she asked, her tone inviting, Yuna's invitation caught you off guard but piqued your interest. You had grown close with Yuna over class, and her offer seemed appealing. With a nod, you accepted, feeling comfortable in her presence. "Yeah, I'll be right there," you confirmed.
"Cool!" Yuna exclaimed, excitement evident in her voice, before heading off to join her friends. Turning to face Jungwon, who looked slightly puzzled, "you're going with her?" he inquired, his expression curious. "Yes, I can't stick with you guys the whole night," you explained. Jungwon nodded understandingly, a smile gracing his lips. "Have fun and be safe then. We'll be around here if you need us," he reassured you before taking his leave.
Taking another sip of your drink, you felt a surge of confidence coursing through you as you navigated your way through the pulsating dance floor. The crowd seemed to part effortlessly as you passed, their gazes drawn to your costume. Some offered compliments as you made your way through the throng, and you graciously thanked them, a smile playing on your lips.
As you reached the back of the house, you stepped outside into the cool night air, scanning the area for Yuna. Spotting her amidst a group of people, she waved enthusiastically, her excitement palpable. Making your way over, you were greeted by the welcoming smiles of Yuna's friends.
"You actually came!" Yuna exclaimed, her happiness evident in her tone. "Guys, you know Y/n," she introduced you to the group, who greeted you warmly in return. Though you recognized them, you hadn't interacted with them much before.
Giselle stood besides Yuna, accompanied by Yuqi, whose fairy costume added a whimsical touch to the gathering. Kazuha, dressed as the hauntingly beautiful Corpse Bride, stood beside them. Momo, adorned in mummy wrappings, mingled with the group. Felix, portraying the spirited Luffy from the anime, engaged in a conversation with Mingi, who was decked out as the iconic Michael Myers. Minghao, was dressed as the beloved superhero Spiderman, and Keeho stood tall, embodying the iconic Batman, while Taehyung, was dressed as the enigmatic Phantom of the Opera.
Meanwhile, as Jungwon joined the rest of the guys, they noticed your absence from their midst. "Where's Y/n?" Ni-ki asked, glancing around the room. "She's with some of her friends, I think," Jungwon replied, taking a seat beside Jay and Sunghoon. But then another realization struck Jungwon. "Where's Heeseung?" he asked, scanning the room. The boys looked around, but Heeseung was nowhere to be found. "Huh? He was just here!?" Ni-ki exclaimed in confusion. "He's probably around here," Sunghoon suggested.
"Was it wrong of us to drag them to this party?" Sunoo pondered aloud, expressing concern. "No, they need to realize that they love each other," Jake asserted confidently, his voice rising a bit too loudly and drawing unwanted attention from those nearby. "Shhh!" Jay quickly shushed him, casting a wary glance around the room. "We don't want everyone here to know!" he admonished Jake. "We can only hope they realize it," he added, the concern evident in his tone.
Meanwhile, you happily engaged in conversation with Yuna and her friends, though you kept your interactions with Taehyung to a minimum, he seemed content simply gazing at you, making you feel a tad uncomfortable, especially with the chill in the air. As Felix proposed hitting the dance floor, you glanced at your phone and saw a message from your brother indicating that he had successfully covered for you and your mother was asleep. Grateful for his assistance, you slipped your phone back into your purse as Yuna pulled you onto the dance floor with her friends.
Lost in the pulsating rhythm and laughter, you suddenly felt a burning stare and glanced around, eventually locking eyes with Heeseung, who stood a distance away, his gaze fixed solely on you. Feeling uneasy, you looked away, only to be swept into the dance by Kazuha and mingling with Mingi, who smiled down at you.
Amidst the joyous atmosphere, you eventually excused yourself to the kitchen for a drink. The quiet solitude enveloped you as you leaned against the counter, the faint scent of nicotine lingering in the air. Lost in thought, you retrieved a bottle of water from the fridge and took a sip. Just then, Heeseung entered the room, breaking the silence. "Hi," you greeted softly, meeting his gaze. "Hello," he replied, his voice equally soft.
A moment of silence passed between you before Heeseung spoke again. "You looked like you had fun on the dance floor," he remarked, attempting to break the tension. "Yeah, I did," you replied, though the unease lingered in your voice. "How are you doing?" you asked, hoping for a glimpse into his state of mind. He seemed surprised by your question. "I'm good. How are you doing?" he asked in return. "Good," you answered, though the strength in your voice wavered.
As you and Heeseung stood there awkwardly in the kitchen, a group of drunk people stumbled in, breaking the tense silence. Quickly, you averted your gaze, feeling the need to escape. You attempted to slip out of the kitchen, but a glance behind you revealed that Heeseung was following closely behind, his expression determined as he prowled after you. Gasping, you navigated through the crowd, each time you turned, he was right on your trail, his presence looming closer.
What was he doing? You couldn't help but wonder as you climbed up to the second floor, weaving past people until you finally stopped and turned around. To your relief, you didn't see Heeseung, feeling victorious as you leaned over the balcony railing, observing the festivities below. A smile graced your lips as you spotted Jake, Jay, and Ni-ki on the dance floor, enjoying themselves.
However, your moment of triumph was short-lived as you sensed someone approaching from behind. Instinctively, you knew it was Heeseung, his cologne lingering in the air as his arms enveloped you against the railing. He had pulled up the sleeves of his shirt, revealing his toned and veiny arms as he gripped the railing, his head resting on your shoulder as he whispered in your ear, "You thought you could escape from me?" Feeling a surge of panic at his sudden presence, you attempted to pull away from his grip, but Heeseung's hold only tightened around you. His fingers wrapped around your wrist, preventing your escape, as he effortlessly pulled you back into his chest. You could feel the warmth of his body pressing against your back, his arms enveloping you in a tight embrace, leaving you with no choice but to surrender to his hold.
Heeseung leaned over the railing, bringing you along with him. You had no choice but to lean over as well, your weight supported by the sturdy wooden barrier. From the corner of your eye, you could see him gazing at you, his intense gaze locking with yours as he whispered, his warm breath grazing your ear, "Running from me like that?" His voice was soft yet laced with a hint of accusation. Your mouth opened in response, but no words came out. You missed this intimacy, feeling safe and secure in his embrace, as if he could alleviate all your stress.
Eventually, you turned around to face him, meeting his gaze as he leaned in closer. Placing a hand on his chest, you tilted your head slightly, whispering, "I thought I could try." Neither of you spoke after that, simply gazing at each other, both feeling touch-starved after days apart.
"Please, angel," Heeseung whispered, his touch sending a warm sensation through your stomach. Before you could respond, however, you heard your name being called. Startled, both you and Heeseung pulled back to see Giselle standing there. "Sorry, did I interrupt something?" she asked innocently. "No, no," you quickly assured her. "Um, what is it?" you asked.
"Mingi is looking for you," Giselle informed you, oblivious to the tension between you and Heeseung. You noticed the subtle clenching of Heeseung's jaw at the news. "Oh, thank you for telling me," you said to Giselle, offering a polite smile as she walked away, leaving you and Heeseung.
Clearing your throat to catch Heeseung's attention, you saw his gaze instantly snap to you. "I'm gonna..." you started talking as you began to walk back down, but with a glance behind you, you noticed Heeseung was still following after you. Shaking your head, you navigated around the thick crowd until you made it to the dance floor. You spotted Yuna and her friends still dancing, but no sign of Mingi. Scanning the area, you tried to find him, but it seemed like he found you first. "There you are!" Mingi said happily, and you turned, smiling at him as he led you to the outskirts of the ground floor where a bar stood. "There's a bar?" you asked, surprised by its presence. "Yes!" Mingi exclaimed. You both settled on the barstools as you ordered a strong drink, feeling like you needed it.
As you and Mingi began chatting like old friends, the bartender prepared your drinks. You both cheered your shots, downing them quickly. Mingi ordered another round of drinks as you looked out at the dance floor, feeling a sense of something pulling you. You made eye contact with Heeseung, who stood by the door, surrounded by other people but with his full attention fixed on you. You quickly turned back to Mingi, who was rambling on about something, and you listened attentively.
As time passed and the shots flowed, you began to feel the buzz of alcohol. Giggling with Mingi, who was clearly drunk as he clung to you, he slurred, "Hey Y/n! You are very beautiful!" "Thank you, Mingi," you giggled in response. "Hey, hey! Are you single?" he slurred further. "Well..." you started to reply, but before you could finish, a scream interrupted. You looked and saw Yuna running towards you. "Y/n! Come on! Come on!" she screamed, grabbing you and Mingi. "This is my song!" she declared as a Rihanna song blared through the speakers.
Wide-eyed, you recognized the song as "Only Girl (In the World)" and Yuna pulled you and Mingi into the middle of the dance floor. Without hesitation, you smiled and danced and sang along with Yuna, Giselle, Yuqi, Momo, and Kazuha. Together, you all screamed the lyrics without a care in the world.
Spinning around, you saw Jake and Ni-ki dancing nearby. When they noticed you, they jumped closer, joining in the fun. Lost in the music and the energy of the moment, you danced with abandon.
⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅
As the night progressed, you found yourself fully immersed in the energy of the party. The music throbbed in your ears, the flashing lights painted the room in vibrant hues, and the laughter of your friends echoed in the air. Amidst the chaos of the dance floor, you let yourself go, moving to the rhythm with abandon, your worries melting away with every beat.
But amidst the crowd, amidst the laughter and the music, your attention kept being drawn to him. Heeseung, his presence a constant, his gaze an ever-present force that seemed to follow you wherever you went. You felt his eyes on you, hungry, intense, and filled with longing. Every time you glanced in his direction, you found him there, his gaze fixed on you with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine.
And, if you were being honest with yourself, you couldn't deny the flutter of excitement that his attention brought. It felt good to be wanted, to be pursued with such fervor. Despite the chaos of the party, despite the throng of people surrounding you, it was his gaze that you found yourself drawn to, his presence that you couldn't shake.
Outside by the grand pool, you found a moment's respite from the pulsating energy of the party. Nestled on a plush couch with friends on either side, the night air carried the distant echoes of laughter and music, a backdrop to the tranquil scene. Yuna occupied the space to your left, a comforting presence amidst the lively ambiance, while Mingi sat on your right, his flushed cheeks betraying the effects of the festivities.
As you sat there, the weariness of the night settling upon you, you nursed a drink that had long lost its chill. Setting it down on a nearby table, your gaze wandered to the pool, its iridescent waters shimmering under the moonlight, casting a mesmerizing glow.
Mingi's arm draped around you, pulling you closer, you chuckled softly at his playful demeanor, but as his gaze met yours, a sense of disquiet washed over you. Something felt off, a nagging feeling that this wasn't where you belonged. It wasn't Mingi's touch that you craved, but another's, someone whose absence had left a void within you.
Before you could dwell further on your thoughts, a sudden presence loomed behind you. Turning around, you found Heeseung standing there, his demeanor intense and unwavering. His piercing gaze bore into Mingi, a silent warning that didn't escape your notice.
"Y/n, may I have a word?" Heeseung's voice cut through the air, his tone clipped and authoritative. "Hey, we're kinda busy here," Mingi's voice carried a hint of protest, but Heeseung's response was swift. "Not anymore you are," he snapped back, his tone laced with an edge that brooked no argument. The intensity of his gaze bore down on Mingi, leaving him no choice but to relent. "Okay, okay. Fine, take her," Mingi's words held a tinge of resignation.
With an apologetic smile aimed at Mingi, you rose from the couch, the weight of Heeseung's stare compelling you to follow him.
As you came to him, he wordlessly pulled you along to a vacant room, his grip firm around your waist. The silence between you was heavy with unspoken tension as you searched his eyes for answers, but he remained resolute, his gaze unwavering.
"What did you want to talk about?" you ventured, but Heeseung's response was swift and startling. With a sudden movement, he slammed his hand against the wall beside your head, causing you to emit a small noise of surprise. His eyes bore into yours, filled with a mixture of anger and despair as he unleashed a torrent of emotion.
"Does it humor you?" His voice trembled with pent-up frustration, each word dripping with the bitter taste of betrayal.
"What?" The single word escaped your lips, echoing in the tense silence that enveloped you both. Heeseung's frustration boiled over, his words pouring forth like a rainstorm.
"Does it humor you to break up, leave me to rot, knowing that bastard went after you and not send me a message that you were okay?" His voice cracked with raw emotion, his despair pouring out in waves.
You stood there, paralyzed by the weight of his words, unable to offer any solace or explanation. He continued, his voice trembling with a mixture of anger and despair, each syllable a dagger to your heart.
"…and then show up looking so beautiful?" His voice wavered. The realization of your absence, of the void left in his life, weighed heavily on his shoulders, threatening to crush him beneath its unbearable weight. "And then see other guys look at you? Knowing I can't do anything because you aren't mine anymore?" His words tumbled out in a torrent of despair.
His hand rose to your cheek, a silent plea for understanding, for forgiveness. You felt the warmth of his touch against your skin, a bittersweet reminder of the love that still lingered between you, despite the pain that had torn you apart.
"They don't deserve to look at you." The words slipped from his lips like a whispered prayer, a plea for redemption amidst the chaos of his shattered heart.
As the weight of his words settled upon you, you found yourself speechless.
"Heeseung… I'm… so sorry, but I didn't…" You struggled to articulate your thoughts, but they remained elusive, lost amidst the maelstrom of emotions swirling within you. "I don't know what to say," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.
"Then don't say anything," Heeseung's words were a command, a plea wrapped in desperation. Before you could respond, his lips crashed against yours. A gasp escaped your lips as he drew you closer, his hand instinctively finding its place around your neck. The world around you faded as you went slack in his hold.
You basked in the intensity of the moment, feeling the undeniable rightness of being in Heeseung's arms after days of longing. His touch, his kiss, it all felt like a familiar embrace, a sanctuary amidst the chaos of your emotions. As his hand trailed down to your thigh, hitching it up, you felt a surge of desire coursing through you, igniting every nerve ending in your body.
Heeseung's touch became more fervent, his hands gripping the meat of your thighs through the fabric, sending shivers down your spine. With a sense of urgency, his hand slipped upward, tracing the curve of your thigh, eliciting a soft gasp from your lips. In a bold move, you wrapped your leg around his hip, drawing him closer.
He pulled back from the kiss, his lips leaving a trail of fiery kisses along your neck, marking you as his own with each fervent touch. "Heeseung—" You attempted to speak, to voice the thoughts swirling within your mind, but his lips silenced you once more, his desperation evident in the small, desperate sounds escaping his lips. You felt his hands slide to your hips, pulling you close, while your hands instinctively found their place on his chest.
But before you could surrender completely to the moment, the door burst open, shattering the fragile bubble of intimacy between you and Heeseung. With a start, you pushed him away, both of you turning to see a couple of drunken partygoers stumbling into the room. Heeseung's expression turned murderous, his gaze fixed on the intruders with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine.
In that moment of chaos and intrusion, you made a split-second decision, pulling away from Heeseung and running out of the room, ignoring his shouts behind you. Tears welled up in your eyes as you fled, overwhelmed by the realization that once again, you had fallen back into the tangled web of emotions surrounding Heeseung.
You felt trapped, ensnared by a love that seemed to have a grip on your very soul, leaving you with no clear path forward. Despite your efforts to break free, you couldn't shake the feeling that you were destined to be entangled with Heeseung, no matter how hard you tried to resist.
The cacophony of the party faded into the background as you burst out of the door, onto the deserted streets, the sound of your heels resonating with each hurried step. It was late, the moon casting an eerie glow on the silent pavement, devoid of any signs of life. Houses stood like looming shadows, their windows darkened, their inhabitants lost in the embrace of sleep. All you could focus on was the desperate need to escape, to find solace in the familiarity of home.
Lost in your thoughts, you failed to notice the ominous presence trailing behind you, the faint hum of an engine echoing in the empty street. The realization struck too late, a sharp pang of pain reverberating through your body as something solid collided with you. The world seemed to spin, your senses overwhelmed by a wave of agony as you crumpled to the cold asphalt, the harsh impact stealing the air from your lungs.
Through tear-blurred vision, you glimpsed a shadowy figure approaching through the haze, a menacing silhouette against the dimly lit backdrop of the night. Your consciousness wavered, as you surrendered to the engulfing void, your body succumbing to the numbing embrace of unconsciousness.
⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅
As consciousness slowly seeped back into your awareness, you were immediately engulfed in a whirlwind of agony. Pain coursed through every fiber of your being, a relentless torment that threatened to consume you whole. With a cry of anguish, you attempted to move, only to find your limbs unresponsive, bound by unseen restraints.
Opening your eyes proved to be a daunting task, the world swimming in a haze of disorientation. Through bleary vision, you were greeted by the sight of a gray cement wall. Furrowing your brows in confusion, you attempted to turn your head, only to be met with a wave of dizziness that left you reeling.
As you struggled to make sense of your surroundings, a sinking feeling settled in the pit of your stomach. With a growing sense of dread, you cast your gaze downward, your heart sinking as you beheld the sight before you. You were bound to a chair, your arms and legs immobilized by tight restraints. Panic clawed at the edges of your mind as you writhed against the bindings, each movement met with searing pain.
Your eyes fell upon your left arm, where an IV drip stood, pushing an unknown substance through your veins, dulling your senses and leaving you feeling lethargic and heavy-limbed. Panic surged within you as you realized the extent of your predicament.
Still clad in your Halloween costume, the remnants of the festivities felt like a cruel mockery in the face of your current ordeal. Bruised and bloodied, you were a stark contrast to the playful facade you had worn just hours earlier. Your heels lay discarded nearby, a reminder of the freedom that had been cruelly stripped away from you.
A cloth gag silenced any attempts at outcry, muffling your cries of desperation as you surveyed your surroundings. The room resembled a dark, foreboding cellar, devoid of windows. A single reinforced steel door loomed ominously before you, another chair, positioned a short distance away, served as the only other furniture in the chamber.
Your heart pounded in your chest as you took in the bleak reality of your situation. Bound and helpless, trapped in a nightmare from which there seemed to be no escape. With a heavy heart, you resigned yourself to the chilling silence, the echoes of your thoughts the only company in the darkness.
⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅
The news of your disappearance spread like wildfire, igniting a frenzy of panic and despair among those who know and love you. On television screens and newspaper headlines, your face was plastered alongside the words "MISSING."
In the midst of the chaos, your mother's anguished cries pierced the air, echoing through the once-familiar confines of your home. Tears streamed down her face, her sobs a testament to the depths of her despair.
Your brother, haunted by guilt, paced the floorboards with a heavy heart, knowing that his actions had contributed to your disappearance.
Outside, the authorities scrambled to gather information, their efforts focused on piecing together the fragments of your last known movements. Police officers canvassed the streets, questioning witnesses and appealing to the public for any shred of information that might lead to your whereabouts.
Meanwhile, your friends, consumed by worry and fear, clung to each other for support. They replayed the events of the night over and over in their minds, grappling with feelings of guilt and helplessness.
But perhaps none felt the weight of your absence more than Heeseung. As he awoke to the news of your disappearance, his world shattered into a million pieces. With trembling hands, he reached for his phone, desperate to hear the sound of your voice, only to be met with the cold, indifferent voice of an automated message. In a fit of anguish, he hurled his phone across the room.
Dongsik, sensing his owner's distress, approached tentatively. But Heeseung was beyond comfort, his fears consuming him whole as he crumbled beneath the weight of his despair.
⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅
As time dragged on in the dim confines of the basement, you felt the oppressive weight of darkness pressing down on you, enveloping you in a suffocating shroud of uncertainty. With no sunlight to gauge the passage of time and no watch to mark the hours, you were left to languish in the void, trapped in a timeless limbo of despair.
Suddenly, the heavy silence was shattered by the creak of the door swinging open, and you blinked against the sudden intrusion of light, your vision swimming in disorientation. As your eyes adjusted, you were met with the chilling sight of Ghostface, your captor, looming ominously in the doorway. A surge of fear shot through you, your heart pounding in your chest as you braced yourself for whatever horror he had in store.
"Mhmh," you attempted to speak, but your words were stifled by the gag, leaving only muffled sounds to escape your lips. Ghostface's voice echoed in the darkness, his tone dripping with sinister amusement as he addressed you.
"Ah, you are awake! Wonderful," he intoned, his voice sending shivers down your spine. The chair creaked ominously beneath you as you struggled against your restraints, the ropes digging into your skin as you rocked back and forth in a desperate attempt to free yourself.
"Ah-ah," he tutted. "Don't do that, my dear. I don't want you bleeding out and dying so early! That would just ruin the fun," he remarked, his words laced with a sickening sense of amusement.
With a grimace of pain, you stilled your movements, the throbbing ache in your body a relentless reminder of your vulnerability. Ghostface's presence loomed over you, his masked visage shrouded in shadows as he studied you with a predatory curiosity. You met his gaze with a steely resolve, refusing to cower before his intimidation tactics, causing his patience to wear thin as he tore the gag from your mouth.
"Now, I finally have you right where I want you," he declared, his voice a low, menacing whisper. "What is so special about you, hmm?" he inquired, his tone dripping with disdain as he awaited your response.
Your defiance burned brightly in your eyes as you locked gazes with Ghostface, refusing to yield. "Oh, don't give me that look!" he exclaimed, his voice tinged with exasperation. "You broke his reigning killing streak, and for what?" he demanded, but still, you refused to give him the satisfaction of a response, your lips pressed together in a line.
"Ah, the silent treatment, hm?" Ghostface chuckled darkly, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. "But your silence won't save you now, my dear." Yet you offered no response.
"Oh, how you infuriate me," Ghostface sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. "But mark my words, my dear, I will uncover the truth, one way or another."
"Fuck you, you bastard," you spat defiantly, which was met with a growl of frustration from your captor. "Why do you have to make this so difficult, sweetheart?" he taunted, his voice dripping with malice as he bathed the basement in harsh light before retreating. You winced at the sudden assault on your senses, blinking away the tears that threatened to spill from your eyes.
Alone in the oppressive silence, you screamed until your voice grew hoarse, your cries echoing fruitlessly against the unforgiving walls. With each passing moment, the weight of your captivity bore down on you with crushing force, leaving you battered and broken, your thoughts consumed by the memory of Heeseung and the cruel twists of fate that had led you to this nightmarish ordeal.
"Heeseung," you whispered, the name a desperate plea for solace in the darkness as tears streamed silently down your cheeks, your heart aching with longing for the one person who might offer you a glimmer of hope in the abyss of your despair.
⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅
The sound of the door creaking open echoed through the dimly lit basement, but you didn't lift your head or open your eyes. Exhaustion weighed heavily upon you, your body drained of strength and your spirit battered by the relentless torment you endured.
"I know you are awake, Y/n," Ghostface's voice cut through the silence as he moved about the room. You grumbled out a response, your voice hoarse and barely audible. Your throat felt raw from screaming, your stomach gnawing with hunger, and your mind clouded with fatigue.
"Don't worry, it will all be over soon," Ghostface's words offered little comfort as you finally raised your head to observe his movements. He had set up a phone to record you, his actions sending a chill down your spine as you realized the gravity of the situation. "How long have I been here?" you managed to croak out, wincing at the harshness of your own tone.
"You've only been here for two days, Y/n," Ghostface replied, his tone laced with mockery. "Don't tell me you're already breaking?" he taunted, his laughter echoing in the confined space. You remained silent, unable to summon the strength to respond as he continued his preparations.
"It won't matter, if this works you won't stay here for long!" Ghostface's words washed over you, your mind numb to the significance of his threats. His voice droned on, the ringing in your ears grew louder, drowning out his voice as you weakly blinked at the camera, your gaze unfocused.
Suddenly, a sharp pain seared through your scalp as Ghostface seized your hair in a vice-like grip, yanking your head back forcefully. Your eyes snapped open in response to the agony, your gaze meeting his behind the chilling facade of his mask. He wielded a knife, its glinting blade poised menacingly against your throat, applying just enough pressure to draw blood.
You grimaced, the metallic tang of blood filling your senses as a single drop trickled down from where the knife bit into your skin.
"Come to the beginning and you'll find your precious little thing," Ghostface's words cut through, his grip relenting as he released you and turned to the phone, ending the recording.
"That's all I need from you. Now you stay here and don't move," Ghostface commanded, dismantling the setup with disregard. "Not like you can go anywhere with how you look!" he mocked, his laughter fading as he exited the room, leaving you alone in the frigid darkness once more.
Tears welled in your eyes as your body trembled with exhaustion and fear, you cried out, your voice lost in the void as despair threatened to consume you whole.
⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅
Heeseung sat on the couch, his surroundings a chaotic reflection of his inner turmoil. The living room was in disarray, scattered with empty instant ramen containers and discarded pieces of paper strewn across the coffee table. His hair was disheveled, a wild mess mirroring the chaos of his mind, and dark circles underscored his eyes, evidence of his sleepless nights.
Just as he was consumed by his overwhelming sense of helplessness, his phone buzzed with a message notification. His heart leaped into his throat as he snatched up the device, his hands trembling. The screen was illuminated with message from Jay:
Turn on the news
The message read, short and to the point. Without a moment's hesitation, Heeseung leaped over the coffee table, his movements fueled by a surge of urgency. He reached for the remote control, his fingers fumbling slightly in his haste, and aimed it at the television.
With a press of a button, the screen flickered to life, bathing the dimly lit room in the soft glow of the news broadcast. Heeseung's heart pounded in his chest as he awaited the unfolding of events, his eyes fixed on the screen.
The news anchor's somber expression mirrored Heeseung's growing dread as she began to speak about the recent disappearance of you, her voice weighted with sorrow.
"We have received a video from an anonymous sender regarding the recent disappearance of Y/N Y/L/N, which has been concluded as a kidnapping," the news anchor announced, her tone heavy with gravity. "What you are about to witness is nothing short of horror."
Heeseung's breath caught in his throat as the video feed started, revealing you, broken and hurt, your eyes vacant as they stared past the camera. His heart clenched at the sight of you, your appearance confirming his worst fears. Matted hair, dried blood staining your face, bruises marring your skin – it was a gut-wrenching sight that threatened to shatter him.
As the figure of Ghostface stepped into frame, clad in the familiar mask that once represented Heeseung`s persona, his rage boiled over. "You fucker!" he shouted, his voice laced with venomous fury. Though he listened to Ghostface's speech, his attention remained fixated on you, his heart aching with the desire to protect you from the horrors you were enduring.
You didn't deserve to suffer, locked away in a basement by a deranged psychopath. He was nothing compared to the true Ghostface, the persona that Heeseung had embodied with a sense of helplessness and thrill. And Heeseung vowed, with every fiber of his being, that he would find you and ensure your safety, no matter the cost.
As Ghostface's sinister actions unfolded on the screen, Heeseung felt a surge of rage course through him like a raging inferno. The sight of you, vulnerable and in pain, ignited a primal instinct within him, urging him to take action, to protect you at any cost. His grip on the TV tightened, his knuckles turning white with the intensity of his emotions, as he fought to contain the tempest of fury that threatened to consume him.
When Ghostface, that despicable figure who dared to lay a hand on you, Heeseung's anger boiled over, reaching its breaking point. The knife pressed against your throat, the blood seeping from the wound, it was all too much for him to bear. With a guttural roar of fury, Heeseung nearly hurled the TV across the room, his muscles coiled like a tightly wound spring ready to unleash its pent-up fury.
"Come to the beginning and you'll find your precious little thing," Ghostface's words echoed in his mind, a cruel taunt that fueled Heeseung's determination to bring justice to those who dared to harm you. As the video abruptly cut off and the news anchor's voice filled the room, Heeseung's gaze hardened into icy determination.
"We can only pray for Y/n to return safely and hope that Ghostface will be taken care of," the news anchor's words were a mere backdrop to Heeseung's seething rage. With a menacing edge to his voice, Heeseung spoke, his tone laced with dark intent.
"Oh, I will make sure he will be taken care of," he muttered, his laughter carrying a sinister edge as he stalked towards his room, the crackling of his knuckles punctuating his ominous declaration. With a sense of grim purpose, Heeseung knew what he had to do. The message had been received, and Ghostface would soon learn the full extent of Heeseung's wrath.
⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅
As you struggled against the restraints, your body protesting every movement, you felt a surge of desperation overwhelming you. Ignoring the pain shooting through your limbs, you wriggled back and forth in a futile attempt to free yourself from the confines of the chair. Each movement was met with a chorus of protests from your protesting muscles, but you pressed on, driven by a primal instinct to escape.
Just as you tried to shift away from the IV stand, the sound of the door opening halted your movements. Your heart raced as you watched Ghostface enter the room once more, his presence casting a chilling shadow over the already dimly lit basement. His cold, calculating eyes locked onto yours as he approached, a syringe in his hand.
"Changed position, eh?" Ghostface remarked casually, his voice dripping with malice as he closed the distance between you. "Hey! Hey! No, keep that away from me!" you shouted, your voice trembling with desperation. Your screams of protest fell on deaf ears as he ignored your pleas, swiftly injecting the foreign substance into your arm with a zero disregard for your well-being. "There, was that so hard?"
The effects washed over you. A woozy sensation washed over you, your vision blurring as spots danced before your eyes. Your body felt weightless, disconnected from reality as the world spun around you. You tried to resist, but it was a losing battle. Before you knew it, consciousness slipped away, leaving you adrift in a sea of black.
Ghostface stood over your limp body, a cruel smile twisting his lips as he surveyed his handiwork. With a rough tug on your hair, he ensured that you were thoroughly incapacitated before cutting you loose from the chair. Hoisting your unconscious form over his shoulder, he carried you upstairs to a dimly lit living room, where he deposited you into another chair.
Methodically, he bound your wrists together behind the chair with thick ropes, ensuring that you were securely restrained. Your legs followed suit, bound tightly with more rope until any hope of escape was extinguished. With a strip of duct tape pressed firmly over your mouth, he silenced any potential cries for help, leaving you gagged and helpless.
Finally, he placed a bag over your head, shrouding you in darkness as he left you alone in the silent room.
⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅
You stirred groggily, your senses slowly coming back to you as you regained consciousness. Pain radiated through your body, a constant reminder of the ordeal you had endured. You tried to blink away the darkness that surrounded you, but your vision remained obscured by the bag over your head. Panic welled up inside you as you realized you couldn't see, couldn't speak, couldn't move freely.
Your limbs felt heavy and restrained, bound tightly by the ropes that held you captive. With a muffled groan, you attempted to shift your position, but the bindings held firm, rendering your efforts futile. You could hear the faint murmur of a television in the background, the sound of a horror movie echoing through the room.
Suddenly, his voice cut through the silence, sending a shiver down your spine. "Ah, you're awake!" he taunted, though you couldn't see him. You made an attempt to respond, but the tape over your mouth silenced any words that tried to escape, all you could do was make sounds of frustration and discomfort, hoping to convey your distress. "Be quiet," he commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument. You huffed in frustration but complied, knowing that any resistance would only lead to further punishment.
As the minutes stretched into hours, hunger gnawed at your stomach, a reminder of your long captivity. "You hungry?" he asked, his tone dripping with mockery. You nodded, a futile gesture. "Aww, that's too bad. I haven't gone shopping at all," he taunted, his words a cruel reminder that he held all the power.
Time seemed to blur together as you sat in that uncomfortable position. The absence of sound and movement only served to amplify your sense of helplessness, leaving you feeling isolated and vulnerable. Anger simmered beneath the surface as you struggled against your restraints, the frustration of your situation boiling over with each passing moment.
⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅
The oppressive silence was shattered by the sudden flick of a switch, followed by a deafening crash that reverberated through the room. Startled, you strained against your restraints, your heart pounding with a mixture of fear and hope. "Show yourself!" a deep voice bellowed, the authority in its tone sending a shiver down your spine. Without a doubt, you knew it was Heeseung. He had come for you.
As you listened intently, another voice joined the fray, equally deep but tinged with a sinister edge. "Ahh, such an honor to finally meet you, Ghostface," the other Ghostface purred, his words laced with malice. "I have waited long for this opportunity for us to meet. I just wished it was under different circumstances."
"Where is she?" Heeseung's voice demanded, "She's around here," Ghostface replied cryptically, sending a chill down your spine. "But I won't let you get to her, at least not yet."
"I don't give a fuck. I don't follow your rules," Heeseung retorted, his voice dripping with defiance. "I don't want you to follow me! I want to follow you!" Ghostface exclaimed, his desperation palpable. "Please! For months, I have followed your career, seen the massacre you have left behind! And you suddenly leave all that behind for what?! For a woman that isn't worth your time?!"
You couldn't help but feel a surge of disbelief at Ghostface 2's fanaticism. "She is worth everything to me," Heeseung stated firmly, his unwavering devotion evident in his voice. Suddenly, a cry rang out, followed by the sounds of chaos—a cacophony of things falling and breaking. "I killed for you! Is this how you treat your number one fan?!" Ghostface`s voice cracked with desperation.
But Heeseung's resolve remained unyielding. "I don't care! I never asked you to do this! You simply acted out and now you hurt my girl? Yeah, I don't think so!" His voice thundered with righteous fury, punctuated by the sounds of struggle and a shout of pain.
As the chaos unfolded, you could only listen helplessly, caught in the midst of a battle between two forces—one driven by love, the other by madness.
You strained against your restraints, the muffled sounds of struggle echoing around you. Suddenly, a loud thump reverberated through the space, followed by the unmistakable sound of a body hitting the floor. Your heart raced, and you tried to scream through the gag, unable to discern whose body had fallen.
In a swift motion, the bag covering your head was ripped away, and you squinted against the sudden onslaught of light, blinking rapidly to adjust. As your vision cleared, you found yourself face to face with the Ghostface mask, but a surge of relief washed over you when you realized it was Heeseung behind it.
"Are you okay, angel? I mean… of course, you're not okay! But like, I mean… oh, forget it," Heeseung's words tumbled out in a rush, a mix of concern and relief evident in his voice. Tears welled up in your eyes, as you spoke through the gag.
"It's okay, I'm here, angel. I'm here," Heeseung reassured you, his voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves. With gentle hands, he removed the tape from your mouth, allowing you to draw in a shaky breath. As you gasped for air, Heeseung retrieved a knife and began cutting through the ropes binding your wrists.
However, your relief was short-lived as you noticed Ghostface stirring. Panic surged through you, and you tried to warn Heeseung, but your voice came out as a hushed whisper. Sensing your fear, Heeseung swiftly rose to his feet, positioning himself protectively in front of you. With a swift movement, he placed the knife in your hand.
The room reverberated with Ghostface's chilling laughter as he rose to his feet, his deranged chuckles echoing off the walls. His laughter turned more sinister as he threw his head back, his gaze fixing on you and Heeseung. "That was a good move! Really, Ghostface! You have such raw talent… don't you agree?" he taunted, but Heeseung remained silent.
Taking advantage of the distraction, you focused on cutting yourself free from the ropes binding your wrists, the knife Heeseung had given you proving to be your lifeline. With each precise cut, you felt a surge of adrenaline coursing through your veins, driving you to free yourself as quickly as possible. Meanwhile, Heeseung brandished a switchblade, as he prepared to defend both himself and you.
As Ghostface lunged towards Heeseung, the two engaged in a fierce struggle, their bodies colliding with force. Heeseung skillfully parried each blow, his movements fluid and calculated, but his priority remained protecting you from harm. With a sense of urgency, you worked feverishly to cut through the ropes binding your legs, your heart pounding in your chest as you pushed through the pain.
Suddenly, Ghostface managed to tackle Heeseung to the ground, raining down punches upon him as he writhed beneath the onslaught. In a desperate bid to intervene, you finally succeeded in freeing yourself from the ropes and staggered to your feet, your body protesting every movement.
Your eyes widened in horror as you witnessed Ghostface raising a knife, poised to strike Heeseung. Without a second thought, you screamed out in defiance and lunged forward, driving the knife into Ghostface's back with all your strength. The assailant let out a guttural scream of agony as you twisted the blade, causing him to stumble backward in shock and pain.
Heeseung wasted no time in seizing the opportunity, swiftly rising to his feet and catching you in his arms, pulling you close to him as you leaned against his chest. "I refuse this betrayal!" Ghostface roared in fury, wrenching the knife from his back with a cry of rage. Shifting his gaze between Heeseung and you, his twisted words dripping with hatred. "This whore is nothing compared to me!" he spat, his voice dripping with venom.
"She is not for you to compare, asshole!" Heeseung retorted, his voice ringing with defiance as he stood protectively in front of you.
Ghostface clutched the knife you had used to stab him, his eyes burned with fury as he lunged at Heeseung once again. But Heeseung was prepared this time. With lightning reflexes, he tackled Ghostface, the two adversaries crashing to the ground in a tangle of limbs and rage. They grappled fiercely, exchanging punches and kicks as they fought for dominance, the sound of their struggle echoing through the house.
Meanwhile, you stood frozen for a moment, unsure of what to do amidst the chaos unfolding before you. But Heeseung's urgent command snapped you out of your daze. "Y/N! Go!" he shouted. Responding instinctively, you scrambled to comply, your heart pounding with adrenaline-fueled urgency.
"Oh no you don`t!" Ghostface said, refusing to relent, lashed out with a vicious punch, striking Heeseung before seizing your ankle in a desperate attempt to impede your escape. You stumbled, falling to the ground under the force of his grip, but you refused to submit.
With a surge of determination, you kicked out fiercely, connecting with Ghostface's face with a resounding impact. He cried out in pain, his grip loosening as you scrambled away, seizing the opportunity to break free from his grasp.
Your heart pounded in your chest as you scoured the nearby rooms, the sounds of the struggle in the living room serving as a sign that you were in the clear. You moved quickly, until you found yourself in the kitchen. When suddenly, the sharp report of a gunshot rang out, causing you to startle and whirl around in alarm.
Before you could react, Ghostface appeared before you, brandishing a gun. "Come on!" Relief flooded through you as you realized it was Heeseung under the mask.
Ghostface's enraged shouts reverberated through the living room, with thundering steps echoing behind you, you and Heeseung hastily retreated, seeking any means of escape from the relentless pursuit.
Turning to face the approaching threat, you and Heeseung found yourselves confronted by Ghostface, his figure bearing witness to the injury inflicted upon him by Heeseung's well-aimed shot. Despite his wounded state, Ghostface pressed on, driven by a fanatical determination to capture his prey.
"Go!" Heeseung's urgent command sliced through the chaos, accompanied by the unmistakable click of a gun being aimed. You darted forward, seeking refuge as Heeseung lifted the weapon, his steely gaze fixed on Ghostface's retreating form. But the masked assailant found cover behind the kitchen island, evading the imminent threat of gunfire.
Scanning your surroundings frantically, you dashed through the family room, your heart pounding with adrenaline-fueled desperation. Your hopes were dashed as you attempted to open the balcony door, only to find it locked tight, sealing off any chance of escape. Frustration bubbled within you as you cursed under your breath, your mind racing for an alternative route to safety.
With no time to waste, you bolted into a nearby bedroom, seeking refuge within its confines. Turning to Heeseung for reassurance, you watched as he faced Ghostface, his ammunition depleted and his stance poised for combat. In a split-second exchange, Ghostface lunged forward with a vicious stab, aiming for Heeseung's form.
"No!" Your anguished cry echoed through the room as you witnessed the violent clash between the two adversaries. Heeseung's swift reflexes saved him from a direct blow, but the knife still found its mark, leaving a deep gash across his arm. With a pained grunt, Heeseung retaliated, delivering a forceful kick that sent Ghostface sprawling to the ground.
As the intense struggle continued, Ghostface seized Heeseung's leg, causing him to stumble and fall to the ground. With swift precision, Ghostface climbed on top of Heeseung, raining down a barrage of punches upon him. Heeseung grunted in pain, his muscles straining as he attempted to defend himself against the relentless assault. In a desperate bid for control, Heeseung managed to reverse their positions, landing a series of powerful punches of his own before Ghostface retaliated, once again gaining the upper hand.
Meanwhile, you scanned the room for any potential weapon to aid in your escape. Your eyes landed on a wooden cutting board nearby, and without hesitation, you seized it, preparing for action. With determination fueling your movements, you swung the cutting board with all your strength, striking Ghostface squarely in the head. A sharp cry of pain echoed through the room as Ghostface staggered, momentarily stunned by the unexpected blow. Seizing the opportunity, Heeseung swiftly extricated himself from beneath Ghostface's grasp, urging you to flee with him.
Racing toward the front door, hope flickered within you as the possibility of escape loomed tantalizingly close. However, your relief was short-lived as a sudden jolt of agony pierced through your body, sending you crashing to the ground. As you struggled to comprehend the source of the pain, Heeseung turned back to you in alarm, only to be met with the chilling realization of your plight.
"I did it!" Ghostface's triumphant declaration pierced the air, his sinister presence looming behind you. You were violently pulled upright, as a surge of pain shot through you. With horrifying clarity, you realized that Ghostface had thrown a dagger at you, the searing pain in your back confirming the deadly accuracy of his aim. Tears welled in your eyes as you cried out in anguish, the agony of the wound searing through your senses.
"You motherfucker!" Heeseung's enraged voice reverberated through the room. Yet, the threat of the dagger pressed against your throat silenced any further action from Heeseung. Frozen in place, Heeseung stood helplessly.
Heeseung's trembling hands betrayed the fierce restraint he exercised, his entire being a coiled spring of tension as he struggled to contain his mounting fury. "Take off the mask," Ghostface's sudden command sliced through the air, demanding compliance with chilling authority. "What?" Heeseung's voice wavered with disbelief his gaze locked with Ghostface's behind the menacing mask.
"You heard me. I wanna see you. I wanna see my idol," Ghostface persisted, his grip tightening on your arm as he began to pull you along. With each step, the ache of your injuries throbbed relentlessly, but you forced yourself to endure, your resolve unyielding even as pain threatened to overwhelm you. As Ghostface ascended the stairs, dragging you along in his wake, Heeseung followed closely behind, his every movement fraught with tension.
"I went through all this effort! I mean, the bitch stabbed me, I had to quit soccer, kill my parents when they started to suspect! And the dot over the i was I had to hit your little angel here with my car! I mean, that car costed more than herself!"
His words hung heavy in the air, a chilling testament to the lengths he had gone to fulfill his twisted desires. But it was his admission of hitting you with his car that sent a shockwave of horror coursing through your veins. The memories flooded back in a torrent of images and sensations, the screeching tires, the sickening impact, the overwhelming darkness that followed.
Heeseung's reaction was visceral, his incredulous rage boiling over as he struggled to comprehend the depths of Ghostface's depravity. "You what!?!?" his voice rang out.
In a fit of unbridled fury, Heeseung lunged forward, his muscles coiled with tension as he prepared to unleash his pent-up wrath upon Ghostface. But just as his outstretched hands reached for Ghostface's throat, the masked assailant yelped in genuine fear, his reflexes kicking in as he swiftly pulled you with him, narrowly evading Heeseung's vicious assault.
The sheer velocity of his movements sent a shiver down your spine as you watched the scene unfold before you, the knife held perilously close to your throat. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as Heeseung's gaze snapped to the spot where Ghostface now stood with you, after barely managing to dodge his attack, his fists clenched.
With a sharp intake of breath, Heeseung reeled back. Though the urge to lash out still simmered beneath the surface, he knew that his priority now was ensuring your safety, no matter the cost. And with a heavy sigh, Heeseung reluctantly acquiesced, raising his arms in resignation as he shed his hood and removed the mask, revealing his bruised and bloodied face beneath. Relief flooded through you at the sight of his familiar features, a stark contrast to the chilling facade of the Ghostface mask he wore.
But any semblance of comfort was shattered by Ghostface's chilling words, his laughter a haunting echo in the empty corridors. "Well.. well... well. If it isn't Lee Heeseung..." His voice dripped with malice, each word laced with contempt. "You know! Now that I think about it! You are really the perfect Ghostface! I can't believe I didn't see it before!"
Heeseung's response was a silent glare, his features twisted in a mask of restrained fury. But as Ghostface's attention remained fixed on Heeseung, you seized the opportunity for action. With a surge of adrenaline, you launched a swift kick at Ghostface's shin, causing him to yelp in pain and drop the knife he had been brandishing menacingly.
As the knife clattered to the ground, a familiar glint caught your eye—a flash of recognition amidst the chaos. It was the butterfly knife that Heeseung had gifted you, now tarnished with blood. Without hesitation, you snatched it up in your hand, gripping it.
Heeseung wasted no time with you free from Ghostface`s grip, he seized your hand. propelling you forward as he led the charge down the hallway. Behind you, Ghostface's enraged cries echoed through the corridors, a cacophony of curses and threats that fueled your desperate flight to safety.
Your feet stumbled over the uneven floor as you raced to escape the looming threat of Ghostface. The hallway stretched endlessly before you, the walls seeming to close in with each passing second, amplifying the urgency of your flight.
Finally, Heeseung burst through the door of an open room, dragging you inside before swiftly slamming it shut behind you.
As the room fell into a tense silence, broken only by the sound of your pounding heart, Heeseung swiftly moved to lock the door, his hands trembling with urgency. The metal handle rattled violently as Ghostface exerted force from the other side, his relentless assault threatening to breach the flimsy barrier between safety and chaos. Heeseung's shock was palpable as he stared at the quivering door, his eyes reflecting a mixture of fear and determination.
While Heeseung grappled with the imminent threat at the door, your gaze swept across the room in search of any means of escape. The bedroom offered little in terms of refuge, its modest furnishings offering no sanctuary from the looming danger. You glanced out the window, but the sight of the daunting drop to the ground below dissuaded any thoughts of escape via that route.
Suddenly, the thundering assault on the door ceased, replaced by an eerie quiet that sent a shiver down your spine. Heeseung's instincts kicked in, and he swiftly retreated, pulling you close as a deafening gunshot echoed through the room. The door handle shattered under the force of the bullet, sending wooden splinters flying as the door swung open, the lock rendered useless by Ghostface's firepower.
Heeseung's gasp of alarm prompted swift action as he dove, dragging you with him, to take cover behind the bed. The bed provided little protection from the onslaught, and you screamed as each shot rang out, the sound reverberating in your ears.
As the gun clicked empty, Ghostface cursed under his breath, the frustration evident in his voice as he fumbled for more ammunition. In that fleeting moment of respite, you blinked, and with a sudden burst of movement, Heeseung launched himself over the bed, his form a blur as he collided with Ghostface in a whirlwind of violence.
The two figures grappled on the floor again. Punches were thrown with reckless abandon. Rolling and tumbling across the floor, they fought tooth and nail, locked in a deadly dance of survival.
In a desperate bid for freedom, you seized the fleeting opportunity and bolted out of the room, your heart pounding in your chest as adrenaline surged through your veins. But as you raced down the hallway, the sudden eruption of gunshots and Heeseung's unmistakable yell pierced through the chaos, freezing you in your tracks. You whirled around in shock, only to find Ghostface charging towards you with menacing determination, his voice echoing with malice as he closed in.
"There's no escape, sweetheart!" His taunting words echoed through the air, sending shivers down your spine as you continued to flee. But despite your efforts, Ghostface swiftly caught up to you, his iron grip seizing hold of you and slamming you forcefully onto the unforgiving ground. Panic surged through you as his hands closed around your neck, squeezing the life out of you with merciless force. "You've been a thorn in my side for too long! This ends now!" he growled.
Desperation fueled your fight as you kicked and thrashed against him, your cries muffled by the crushing pressure of his hands. Tears blurred your vision as you gasped for precious air, the suffocating grip of Ghostface tightening with each passing moment. "Get off!" you choked out, your voice raw with anguish as the world spun around you. "I can't wait to see the life draining from your eyes," he hissed.
Just when it seemed all hope was lost, a sudden roar echoed through the air, and the weight of Ghostface was abruptly lifted from you. Gasping for breath, you watched through tear-streaked eyes as Heeseung launched himself at Ghostface, the two figures crashing through the railing of the stairs down to the first floor, the sound of their bodies hitting the floor echoing in your ears.
"Heeseung!" you rasped, your voice barely a whisper as you staggered down the stairs, your limbs trembling. At the bottom, you found them both lying motionless amidst the wreckage of shattered wood, their bodies battered and broken from the fall.
With trembling hands and a racing heart, you made it down beside Heeseung, the urgency of the moment driving you forward. You checked his pulse, relief washing over you as you felt the reassuring thump under your fingertips. He was alive. Alive and here, with you. "Please, Heeseung, stay with me! Stay with me, baby!" you pleaded, your voice quivering with fear and desperation as you caressed his cheek, willing him to awaken.
Your attention shifted to the bleeding wounds from the gunshot, adrenaline surging as you swiftly removed the Ghostface costume from his body. Beneath the facade of terror, Heeseung was clad in simple jeans and a bloodied sweater, his peaceful face a stark contrast to the chaos surrounding you. Thinking quickly, you applied pressure to his wounds, your mind racing with fear and determination.
Just then, groans pierced the air, and you looked up to see Ghostface slowly rising. Panic surged through you, your heart pounding as you clung to Heeseung, shielding him with your body. As Ghostface turned toward you, his chilling words sent a shiver down your spine. "Well… I have to give it to you, Y/n… you not only survived Heeseung, but you also made him risk his life for you… good job," he remarked, as he stepped away from you.
Your shock quickly turned to terror as Ghostface returned quickly with a kitchen knife in hand, his intent clear. "I'll make this quick while Heeseung is still down," he declared, lunging forward in an attempt to grab you. With a surge of adrenaline, you evaded his grasp, your instincts driving you to flee. "Don't make this harder, Y/n!" he shouted after you as you dashed away, his menacing presence lingering in the air like a chilling specter of doom.
As you bolted down the dimly lit hallway, your heart thundered in your chest, each beat urging you forward in a frantic bid for escape. Behind you, the echoing footsteps of Ghostface followed ominously, driving you to push your trembling legs to their limits.
With every turn, you found yourself met with locked doors and barred windows, each obstacle serving as a grim reminder of your dire circumstances. Panic clawed at the edges of your mind as you desperately searched for any means of escape.
In a blur of motion, you careened into a deserted living room, the musty air heavy with the oppressive weight of fear. The dim glow of moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting eerie shadows that danced across the walls like specters of the night.
As you scanned the room for a way out, your eyes fell upon a set of double doors leading to a balcony. With a surge of hope, you rushed towards them, your fingers grasping at the cold metal handle in a desperate attempt to break free from the suffocating confines of the house.
But your hopes were dashed as you found the doors locked tight, the cruel reality of your situation crashing down upon you like a tidal wave. Frantically, you rattled the handle, the sound of your pounding heart drowning out the desperate pleas for salvation that echoed in your mind.
Behind you, Ghostface drew closer, looming like a specter in the darkness. With each passing moment, the gap between you narrowed, his chilling laughter ringing in your ears like a death knell.
Forced to abandon the balcony as a means of escape, you turned and bolted down another hallway, your footsteps echoing in the empty corridors as you fled from the encroaching darkness that pursued you relentlessly.
As you ran, you could feel the tendrils of exhaustion creeping in, your breaths coming in ragged gasps as your muscles screamed in protest. Yet, driven by sheer instinct and the primal urge to survive, you pressed on.
With every passing second, the house seemed to close in around you, its labyrinthine halls twisting and turning like a maze designed to ensnare the unwary. Yet, through sheer grit and determination, you fought against the suffocating grip of despair, refusing to succumb to the darkness that threatened to consume you whole.
In a desperate bid for survival, you ducked into a cluttered study, the musty scent of old books filling the air as you scanned the room for a means of escape. But before you could react, Ghostface burst through the doorway.
With lightning reflexes, you dodged his initial lunge, the sharp edge of the blade grazing your shoulder as you stumbled backward. Ignoring the searing pain, you seized upon the nearest object—a heavy desk lamp—and swung it with all your might, the metal base connecting with Ghostface's arm with a sickening thud.
With a cry of pain, he recoiled, momentarily stunned by the force of the blow. Seizing the opportunity, you darted past him, racing down the hallway, the echoes of his enraged shouts echoing in your wake.
But Ghostface was relentless, his footsteps thundering behind you as you rounded a corner, you stumbled upon a small alcove, its shelves lined with an assortment of knick-knacks and trinkets. Without hesitation, you seized upon a porcelain vase, its delicate form offering little resistance as you hurled it at Ghostface with all your might.
The vase shattered upon impact, sending a spray of ceramic shards cascading through the air as Ghostface recoiled, you darted past him once more, heart pounding in your chest as you raced towards the nearest exit.
As you ran towards the front where you had left Heeseung, your heart pounding with a mixture of fear and anticipation, you heard a sickening crunch from behind you. With a jolt, you turned around, your eyes widening in shock as you witnessed Heeseung swinging the wooden cutting board with all his might, striking Ghostface squarely in the face. The force of the blow caused Ghostface to stumble backward, dropping the knife in the process.
Frozen in place, you watched in disbelief as Heeseung grabbed a machete from seemingly nowhere, his expression resolute as he raised it high, ready to deliver a fatal blow. Before you could react, you shouted out, "No!"
But it was too late. With a swift motion, Heeseung brought the machete down, aiming directly at Ghostface. However, instead of slashing, the blade pierced through the cloak of Ghostface, slicing through the fabric and embedding itself into the wooden floor below.
Your eyes widened in shock as Heeseung collapsed, the exertion of the fight taking its toll on him. Without hesitation, you rushed to his side, holding him close as you called out his name desperately. Heeseung's breathing was slow and labored, his gaze still fixed on Ghostface with a fierce intensity.
Turning your attention to Ghostface, you watched as Heeseung stretched out his trembling hand and tore off the mask, revealing the face beneath. In that moment, everything seemed to freeze as the weight of the truth settled upon you.
It was Taehyung....
How could you have been so blind? How could you have missed the signs, the subtle clues that now seemed glaringly obvious?
With a mix of relief and horror, you held onto Heeseung, gently cradling his head, your heart aching at the sight of him wounded and exhausted.
As you slowly helped Heeseung up, his weight leaning heavily on you, you both made your way to the front door, as you reached out to try the door handle, the cruel reality of your situation slammed into you. Locked.
"Fuck," you muttered under your breath, frustration and desperation clawing at your throat. Casting a quick glance around the house, your eyes settled on a room, a potential source of salvation. "I'll be right back," you promised Heeseung, guiding him to a corner where he could rest against the wall.
Limping toward the room, every step a painful reminder of the ordeal you had endured, you scanned the space for something—anything—that could break down the door. Just as you were about to return with your makeshift weapon, the air was pierced by the sound of yelling and shouting, a cacophony of rage and desperation.
Heart pounding, you hurried back to the scene, but what you found was beyond your worst nightmares. Both Taehyung and Heeseung were gone, leaving behind only pools of blood and the gleaming machete on the floor. "Heeseung?!" you cried out, the word tearing from your throat like a desperate plea.
Instead, the sound of glass shattering drew your attention to the back of the house. Racing through the living room to the family room, you skidded to a halt at the shattered backdoor, where Taehyung and Heeseung were locked in a vicious struggle amidst a sea of broken glass.
Taehyung's face was a mask of fury and pain, his features twisted with anger and resentment, while Heeseung's own visage bore the marks of battle, blood trickling from a wound on his head. They traded blows, each punch a symphony of violence and determination, as they fought tooth and nail for their lives.
"You are not worthy of bearing the mask!" Taehyung's voice echoed through the chaos, his words dripping with venom. Heeseung's response was swift and furious, his own voice ringing out with defiance. "It's not about being worthy! It's about coverage, you son of a bitch!"
As you tried to make your way through the chaotic opening, your eyes widened in shock as you witnessed Heeseung's desperate move. Gripping a jagged chunk of broken glass, he drove it mercilessly through Taehyung's stomach, the latter's cry of surprise piercing the air. Taehyung staggered back, clutching the shard tightly in disbelief, his eyes darting between the blood-soaked glass and Heeseung's face, a mixture of shock and fury contorting his features.
Frozen in place, you watched in horror as the scene unfolded before you, the violence and brutality of it all threatening to overwhelm your senses. But in the midst of the chaos, you failed to realize the danger looming perilously close to you.
Taehyung, his gaze ablaze with a twisted resolve, caught sight of you out of the corner of his eye. "I may never be worthy of your praise… but I'm at least not going down alone," he spat, his voice dripping with venomous intent.
With a sudden whirl of motion, Taehyung pulled out the glass shard, his movements fueled by a primal desperation, and lunged toward you with a bloodcurdling scream. The other end of the shard found its mark, plunging into your stomach with a searing pain that radiated through every fiber of your being. "No!" Heeseung's anguished cry echoed in your ears as he rushed to your side, catching you before you could collapse to the ground.
"Y/n! Baby! Stay with me, please!" Heeseung's voice was raw with emotion as he cradled your head in his trembling hands. Through the haze of agony, you struggled to focus, your vision blurred as tears stung your eyes. All around you, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the cold, indifferent gaze of the night sky above.
As Heeseung desperately pleaded for you to stay awake, his words echoed faintly in the recesses of your mind. "Please, baby! Angel, don't close your eyes!" His voice trembled with anguish, each syllable a desperate plea to keep you tethered to consciousness. But the world around you seemed to blur into an indistinct haze, and you struggled to focus through the fog of pain and exhaustion.
The chill of the night air seeped into your skin, a biting reminder of the harsh reality surrounding you. With a delirious gaze, you tried to meet Heeseung's eyes, but the blurriness that clouded your vision thwarted your attempts. All you could manage were shallow breaths, each inhalation laced with a searing ache that radiated from the wound in your stomach.
In a feeble attempt to alleviate your suffering, you weakly pushed against Heeseung's hands as he sought to tend to your wound. "No, please!" His voice cracked with emotion as he persisted, hastily wrapping the wound with his sweater, the fabric stained with a grim mosaic of dirt and blood. The pristine white of your angelic dress had long been tainted, obscured by the grim realities of the night's ordeal.
The last semblance of awareness flickered within you as you registered a primal snarl echoing through the darkness, followed by the sensation of Heeseung's warm hands slipping away from your skin. And then, like a veil descending over your senses, darkness enveloped you, swallowing you whole in its unfathomable depths.
In that silent void, devoid of sensation or perception, you floated in a state of limbo. Time ceased to hold any meaning, and you drifted aimlessly, suspended between the realms of life and death. Was this the end, the culmination of your journey? In the quiet expanse of the void, you pondered the elusive nature of mortality, wondering if this was indeed the final chapter of your existence.
⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅
As consciousness gradually seeped back into your being, you felt the weight of your entire body, as if every limb was burdened by a heavy weariness. Slowly, tentatively, you blinked your eyes open, greeted by the sterile whiteness of a ceiling. Confusion clouded your thoughts momentarily, casting a veil over your senses as you struggled to comprehend your surroundings.
Your gaze drifted downward, and to your astonishment, you found yourself confined to a hospital bed, ensnared by a web of tubes and IV lines tethering you to the medical apparatus. An oxygen mask obscured part of your face, its presence a reminder of the fragility of your existence. Squinting against the harsh glare of the hospital lights, you turned your head slightly, your eyes alighting upon the heart monitor stationed beside you.
But amidst the bewildering array of medical equipment, your gaze was drawn to a familiar sight—an unmistakable tuft of hair that stirred a surge of recognition within you. Heeseung. The name reverberated through your mind, a whisper of clarity amidst the fog of uncertainty. He lay beside you, clad in hospital attire, his form relaxed in slumber as he clasped your hand in his, a silent vigil of unwavering devotion.
A swell of emotion welled within you as you beheld his peaceful countenance, a silent guardian standing sentinel by your bedside. Despite the chaos that had besieged you both, he remained steadfast in his resolve, a beacon of strength and solace in the midst of turmoil. The sight of him stirred a profound sense of gratitude and affection within you, flooding your heart with a warmth that transcended the sterile confines of the hospital room.
As you attempted to move, the realization dawned upon you that you were restrained, bound by invisible chains that restricted your movements. A soft groan escaped your lips, a testament to your frustration and discomfort. However, that small sound was enough to rouse Heeseung from his slumber. Blinking his eyes open, he stirred and sat up, his gaze immediately fixating on you.
Fading bruises adorned his face, serving as a reminder of the extended time you had spent in this hospital bed. It became evident that you had been confined here for a considerable period.
Heeseung's eyes filled with tears of relief as his gaze locked onto yours. His whole face seemed to light up at the sight of you awake, his emotions overflowing as he reached for your hand. "Y/n!" he exclaimed, his voice trembling with emotion as he pressed gentle kisses to your hand. It was as though a heavy burden had been lifted from his shoulders, his relief palpable as he visibly relaxed in your presence.
Struggling to find your voice, you attempted to utter his name, but your throat felt dry and parched. Heeseung seemed to understand your silent plea, and with gentle care, he rose from the bed, his movements fueled by a sense of urgency. Finding a bottle of water, he quickly opened it, offering you a reprieve from your thirst.
With tender precision, he adjusted your oxygen mask, allowing you to drink. The cool liquid washed over your parched throat, a refreshing sensation that brought tears to your eyes. It had been days, perhaps weeks, since you last had a drink, and the simple act of quenching your thirst felt like a luxury.
As you drank, Heeseung watched you with a mixture of love and concern, his gaze softening as he witnessed your relief. Once you had finished, he carefully replaced your oxygen mask, settling back beside you with a smile. His eyes were filled with an overwhelming sense of adoration as he regarded you.
"My strong angel," he murmured, his voice filled with reverence as he praised your resilience. You returned his smile, a silent acknowledgment of the bond that existed between you. However, as the memories of your time spent unconscious flooded back, a question lingered on your lips.
"How long have I been here?" you inquired, your voice tinged with uncertainty. Heeseung's expression darkened slightly, a grimace crossing his features as he scratched his neck in discomfort. "Three weeks," he muttered, his tone heavy with regret.
"And Taehyung?" you asked, the name leaving a bitter taste in your mouth as you uttered it. Heeseung's expression mirrored your unease, his features tensing slightly in response to the mention of Taehyung's name. "He's… gone," he replied somberly, confirming your suspicions. "He… is?" you questioned further, seeking confirmation from Heeseung. With a solemn nod, he affirmed Taehyung's fate.
"Did you kill him?" you inquired, surprised by your own nonchalant tone. Heeseung seemed taken aback by your question, a flicker of surprise crossing his features before he nodded silently in response. A sense of calm washed over you, a strange relief settling in your heart. Under normal circumstances, you would never condone taking another's life, but in this instance, Taehyung had brought you nothing but suffering and pain. The thought of his demise brought you no remorse.
Heeseung had been your salvation, your protector amidst the chaos. His actions, though violent, were driven by a sense of duty and love for you. In contrast, Taehyung had succumbed to darkness, consumed by his relentless pursuit of approval from Heeseung. His descent into madness had left him irredeemable, a shadow of the person he once was.
In that moment, as you locked eyes with Heeseung, you knew that you had found your sanctuary, a haven from the storms that had ravaged your life. And as he returned your gaze with a love-struck expression, you felt a warmth spread through your being.
"What about Ghostface?" you inquired, seeking closure on the ordeal that had plagued your life.
Heeseung's response was swift and confident, his voice laced with assurance. "It's all taken care of, angel. They have no evidence," he assured you, his words bringing a sense of relief to your troubled mind.
As you nodded in gratitude, Heeseung's gaze softened, his thoughts drifting to a conversation you had shared earlier. "I was thinking about what you said… at my house," he began, prompting your curiosity.
Instantly, the memory flooded back to you, and you understood the weight of his words. "I do trust you, Angel… it's just, I didn't have much control over my life when my mother was around," he confessed, his voice tinged with bitterness. "And my father wasn't much help… I was at my limit, I couldn't take it anymore. Everything was too much, but I found my solace by hiding behind a mask… like a coward," he admitted, his tone heavy with remorse.
He let out a sigh, his gaze falling momentarily before meeting yours once again. "And I thought… why should I be the only one to suffer? And my road took me down a dark path which I regret… and I thought there was no saving me. Until you came," he confessed, his voice softer now, filled with vulnerability.
You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, prompting Heeseung to continue. "You became my new solace, Angel… and suddenly life was worth living," he admitted, his words carrying the weight of his emotions. "Without you, I'm helpless, lost, misguided. I need you in my life. You are my oxygen, without you I'll go crazy," he confessed, his lips pressing gently against the back of your hand as he spoke.
As Heeseung gazed into your eyes with an intensity that made your heart flutter, he uttered those words that you had been longing to hear. "Y/n… be my girlfriend, please? Officially? Let me be your boyfriend, my love," he pleaded, his voice soft yet filled with sincerity.
Your heart ached with a mixture of joy and relief as you nodded in response. "I will be your girlfriend," you confirmed, your voice barely a whisper as emotions surged within you.
Heeseung leaned over you, his movements gentle and deliberate as he lowered your oxygen mask, allowing you both to share a kiss that was filled with all the love and devotion that had blossomed between you. It began slowly, a tender exploration of each other's lips, but soon ignited into a passionate exchange as the depth of your feelings poured into the intimate gesture.
As you pulled back, breathless and overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment, Heeseung's eyes held a silent question, one that you answered with a nod of consent. "May I?" he asked, gesturing towards the bed beside you.
With a nod, you granted him permission, and Heeseung carefully climbed beside you, settling himself close as he wrapped his arms around you protectively. He adjusted your oxygen mask with gentle hands, his touch comforting and reassuring as he leaned his head against your chest, finding solace in the rhythm of your heartbeat.
You began to play with his hair, relishing in the softness of his locks beneath your fingertips. You noticed the stitches on his head, with a pang of guilt for the pain he had endured on your behalf, you traced the lines of his stitches with tender care.
As the rhythmic sound of his breathing filled the room, you felt yourself drifting into a peaceful slumber, cradled in the warmth of his love. And as you surrendered to the embrace of sleep.
⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅
After weeks of healing in the hospital, your miraculous recovery became the talk of the town. News of your awakening spread like wildfire, making headlines in newspapers and capturing the attention of the entire community. The tale of your survival, coupled with the bravery of your boyfriend, Heeseung, captivated the hearts of many.
Within the span of a single day, the story of your ordeal unfolded across social media platforms and news outlets. The community rallied behind you, celebrating your resilience. The truth about Ghostface's demise emerged, revealing that you and Heeseung had acted in self-defense, bringing an end to the reign of terror that had plagued your lives.
As the days passed, the mystery surrounding the original Ghostface's disappearance and apparent retirement only added to the intrigue of the tale. Speculations and theories abounded, but one thing remained certain—Ghostface had become a mere legacy, a chapter in history buried beneath the weight of your survival and newfound strength.
⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅
Under the somber light of the setting sun, Heeseung stood in the forest. In his hands, he held a small wooden box containing his Ghostface costume. With a solemn expression, he carefully dug a hole in the earth, the shovel scraping against the soil.
With a heavy heart, Heeseung placed the box into the ground, covering it with soil as if burying the ghosts of the past. He stood there for a moment, silent and contemplative, bidding farewell to the shadows that had haunted him for so long.
Meanwhile, you stood a little distance away, giving him the space he needed to say his farewells.
After a moment, Heeseung walked back to where you stood, his expression softened by the warmth of your presence. As you held out your hand to him, he took it without hesitation.
"Ready?" you asked softly, your voice a gentle reassurance. Heeseung nodded, his gaze meeting yours with unwavering resolve. "Ready," he affirmed, his hand tightening around yours as you walked away from the gravesite.
⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅
You laid comfortably on the couch, munching on popcorn as the horror movie played on the TV screen. When a jump scare startled you, you instinctively hid your face in your boyfriend's shoulder, seeking comfort from the sudden fright. Heeseung, lying beside you, wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer to him.
"Are you okay, angel?" he asked, concern evident in his voice. You looked up at him, pouting slightly, as he smirked back at you. "I'm fine, thank you very much," you replied, turning your attention back to the movie. But Heeseung gently lifted your chin, making you meet his gaze. "You sure?" he pressed, refusing to let you off easily.
You nodded, trying to reassure him, but he held your jaw firmly. "Words, princess," he insisted. With a sigh, you repeated, "I'm fine." He hummed in response, leaning in as if to kiss you. Anticipating the kiss, you leaned forward too, but he merely snagged some popcorn kernels from your bowl, earning a playful protest from you.
"Hey, my popcorn!" you exclaimed, trying to snatch it back. He dodged your attempts, prompting you to climb onto his lap in pursuit. "Woah!" he exclaimed in surprise as you succeeded in reclaiming your snack, eating it with a smug expression.
But your victory was short-lived as you felt Heeseung's hands on your hips, causing you to look down and realize your position on his lap. His gaze was appreciative as he leaned back, admiring you with a lazy expression. "You look so good like that, angel," he murmured, his hands tracing patterns on your waist and hips.
"Don't get used to it," you warned, attempting to climb off his lap. However, Heeseung had other plans, easily pulling you back down with a playful smirk.
You looked down at Heeseung, confusion evident in your expression as you wondered what was going on in his mind. "What is this?" you asked, unsure of his intentions.
Heeseung's gaze softened as he looked up at you, a fond smile playing on his lips. "Nothing, just thinking about how lucky I am to have you as my girlfriend," he replied, his voice filled with sincerity.
Feeling your cheeks flush with warmth, you looked away shyly, unable to contain the flutter of emotions in your chest. But before you could gather your thoughts, Heeseung suddenly pulled you close to him, wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace.
Giggles bubbled from your lips as you both rolled on the couch, caught up in the playful moment. Heeseung showered you with kisses, peppering your face with affectionate gestures that elicited more laughter from you. "Stoooop!" you protested between giggles, squirming in his grasp as you tried to escape his playful onslaught.
But Heeseung showed no signs of relenting, his laughter blending with yours as he continued to shower you with affection. "Never!" he declared playfully, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he held you close.
You managed to wriggle out of Heeseung's tight grip and quickly scrambled to the other side of the couch, putting some distance between the two of you. But when you glanced back, you saw Heeseung following after you with a mischievous glint in his eyes, his lips curved into a playful smirk. "Trying to run from me, angel?" he teased, his voice laced with amusement.
With a laugh, you climbed over the armrest of the couch and dashed through the house, the sound of your laughter echoing in the air.
Boxes from your recent move lay scattered around, adding an obstacle course-like challenge to your playful chase. "Just try and catch me, babe!" you called out teasingly as Heeseung chased after you, the thrill of the chase filling the air with excitement.
The house was soon filled with the cheerful melody of your laughter as Heeseung finally managed to catch up to you. With a mischievous grin, he began tickling you, eliciting joyful protests and giggles from you. "Heeseung!" you laughed, squirming under his touch. "Stop, please! I yield!"
Heeseung relented, pulling back with a satisfied grin, but then he lifted you up and settled back onto the couch, holding you close in his arms. "I caught you, I deserve a prize, don't I?" he asked, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he tapped his cheek playfully, silently requesting a kiss.
"I think you do," you replied with a grin, leaning in to kiss his cheek. But he turned at the last moment, catching your lips in a sweet, unexpected kiss. You smiled at his playful behavior, returning the kiss with equal affection as you melted into his embrace.
As Heeseung maneuvered you effortlessly, you found yourself lying on your back on the couch, with him hovering over you, his lips never leaving yours. Your hands slipped up to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer as the intensity of the kiss deepened. With one hand supporting his weight above you, Heeseung's other hand began to explore, trailing a path from your chest down to your waist, then to your hip and thigh, mapping out every curve of your body with a gentle touch that sent shivers down your spine. As his hand returned to grip your waist, you couldn't help but gasp, granting him permission to deepen the kiss further.
Heeseung's lips moved against yours with a hunger that mirrored your own, his kiss a tantalizing blend of passion and desire that left you breathless. Eventually, he pulled back, allowing both of you to catch your breath. You took in deep lungfuls of air as you gazed up at him, your eyes filled with a mixture of desire and affection.
"Stop looking at me like that," you told him, your voice breathy and soft. "Like what?" Heeseung asked innocently, his eyes glinting mischievously. "Like I'm food," you explained, a hint of playful annoyance in your tone.
A smirk played on Heeseung's lips as he bit down on his bottom lip, his gaze dropping to your lips before returning to meet your eyes. "Well, maybe I'm hungry," he replied, his voice low and husky with desire.
As Heeseung's lips melded with yours in a fervent embrace, the world around you seemed to fade into oblivion. His kisses grew increasingly desperate, a reflection of the burning need that coursed through his veins, igniting every fiber of your being with an intensity that left you breathless.
With each tender caress of his lips, Heeseung worshipped every inch of your body, his touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake. His hands roamed with a purposeful urgency, tracing the curves of your form with an almost reverent touch as he whispered words of adoration and praise against your skin.
"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion as he pressed kisses along the curve of your neck, his breath hot against your skin. "I can't get enough of you." His words sent shivers down your spine, igniting a primal desire within you that threatened to consume you whole.
In the heat of the moment, all inhibitions melted away as you surrendered yourself completely to the intoxicating allure of his touch.
"You're my one and only," Heeseung confessed, his words a solemn vow that resonated deep within your soul.
As you and Heeseung shared passionate kisses on the couch, little did you know that nestled within his sock drawer lay a small velvet box, its contents a secret that he held close to his heart. Inside rested a symbol of his deepest commitment, a ring that he planned to reveal to you at the perfect moment, a moment that would signify his unwavering love and devotion to you.
For now, the box remained hidden, a precious treasure waiting to be unveiled when the time was right. As you melted into each other's embrace, lost in the bliss of the present moment, Heeseung's thoughts drifted to the future, to the day when he would kneel before you and ask for your hand in marriage, sealing your love for eternity.
But until then, he cherished these stolen moments with you, savoring every kiss and every touch as a testament to the deep bond that they shared.
Part 3
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diarlingdearest · 1 month ago
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Solomon’s Feelings
Solomon had been alone for a big portion of his life, a downside that came with his immortality. He had gotten used to this after a while (a while being hundreds of years in his case). His solitude was a part of him that he newly accepted,that was until the exchange program happened. His heart that had been otherwise cold had started to warm again,as if your presence was the sun and he was basking in,soaking in your warmth.
Now in stuck in another timeline with you he had realized how much he had missed having a partner in crime,someone to hold him and a friend to always talk to. It was selfish really, but even when he was living with you the brothers would still whisk you away and he couldnt help but get jealous and possesive.
He knew that the situation you were in was a dire one,but deep down he was aware that he would miss this once it was over. Going out at nights to restaurants, teaching you new spells and curses, watching movies,cuddling… He didnt normally get to be with you this often and so he was taking advantage of the situation to his best ability. He cherished time spent together even more so knowing how short a normal lifespan is. He wanted to be around you,as long as fate allowed it
Note: I havent written anything in two years and my obey me obsession is back.. So i decided to post this it is rather bad since i Lost my practice but im doing it for the fun of it. I am not a native speaker so i hope there arent any grammatical mistakes
Also i follow back!!!
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dukecollinsbf · 3 months ago
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guess.
if u guessed EVEN MORE OF MY DARLIN OC HEADCANNONS UR CORRECT. sum nsfw
sorry to all. im obsessed w him.
he loves zombie movies. and zombie games. call of duty zombies with his brothers used to be his shit. he was also very competitive. like, before he even hits the floor in the game he's yelling at his brothers to revive him. (im projecting :P)
after being with the pack for a few months, julius was convinced he'd never be a part of the pack like the rest of the teens were. they all already formed their bonds, found themselves in groups; they were a family. julius was just... there. even when asher would force julius to hang out with them, julius would feel so out of place and would just sit quietly
this feeling only grew stronger as he grew older and STILL didn't have any close bonds within the pack. he was fully convinced asher was trying to include him out of pity and it pissed him off. he HATES being pitied
he ALMOST got a tattoo for quinn cus he was young and fully conviced he and quinn were forever
now he has a tattoo of sams name
he also copies sams accent. and milos. and porters. not to be mean, but cus they like the way they talk! they did it with quinn too and he didnt take it well
he punched another pack member for making fun of him once. lol
HUGE RESTING BITCH FACE.
again, guyliner. one of the pack adults (i cant decide which) and julius x that one scene from the dairy of a wimpy kid movie
"are you wearing eyeliner??"
julius also had a crush on rodrick heffley. he wanted him AND wanted to be him.
"IM SORRY WOMEN :/"
he orders food then overthinks the interaction. "wow... i stuttered while asking for cheese on my sandwich... this is the worst thing that has ever happened to me."
not julius, but sam uses emojis properly. especially the sad ones. julius thinks its so cute.
also sam dad bod and chst hair and
Tumblr media
me^
as mentioned in past post, he was sent to an empowered tti. he DID escape, but he didnt get to finish highschool cus of it. he makes fun of himself for being a dropout even tho it wasnt even his choice.
again, projecting, but he has an issue with telling others to kts or threatening to khs.
when he was a kid and he found out ur teeth dont fall out til youre like seven he cried cus he wanted money
this is alrdy agreed upon by the fandom but hes a WHORE. and HOT.
hes taller than sam... IM BOUTA BUST
one time when sam went in for a kiss julius turned his head away and went SWERVEDDD and sams face was pure shock and betrayal
he rubs his cheek against sams
bright eyes and sam that one meme
"why does julius call u babygirl?"
"how bout we stop talking for a little while."
baggy jeans.... compression shirt... or.... tight tanktop.... *busts*
slurty waist....... msucles....
neck tattoo........................ and others cus he TATTED
he wears rings too and he has a necklace he like NEVER takes off.
i alrdy said this too but im saying it again he has heterochromia (my twin) hes so sexy im gonna kiss my own oc
BJ KING!!
he bites. in a freaky way and in an intimate way
like he loves sam sm he js needs to bite his bicep or titty pec
he used to smoke. like A LOT
early sam and masc darlin was a homoerotic friendship. i know that sexual tension was crazy.
garfield lover. youll never like garfield like HE likes garf.
HE SUCKS AT GEOGRAPHY SO BAD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
the end (for now)... do yall have hcs for my oc cus ill eat them up and send u a million dollars. but also just gimme darlin hcs
AGAIN IM SORRY IM SORRY IF UR SICK OF ME LMFAOO
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s-rosie · 6 months ago
Text
TIG CRACK
helllooooo!!!! i hope you like these hcs and please let me know how i can improve. tysm
nash and jameson did the wap dance at his bachelor party
one time, xander put on a really dirty song on (like mad at me by sexyy red) in the car and gray almost had a stroke
the brothers, ave, libby, and max once had a nerf war that lasted for 72 hours straight (avery and jameson teamed up and won)
avery’s go-to karaoke songs are obsessed by Mariah Carrie, NO by megan trainer, etc. and jameson was like “is this targeted?” when they first did karaoke
one time max was listening to a spicy audio and it accidentally connected to the car with just her and avery and now she blackmails her with the memory
when they were younger, nash paid xander in ice cream to keep quiet about a hickey he had
libby always has to pee on road trips like im talking every 30 minutes and everyone debates on leaving her at the rest stop
ave once had a dream (if you know what i mean) about jameson before they were dating, and she couldn’t look him in the eye the next day
grayson once failed cooking so bad, he had sauce splattered on his suit and had to awkwardly walk to his room to change (while everyone made fun of him)
xander and jameson will randomly break out in song like they are in a musical or sum
libby and max watch anime together
rebecca once yelled because she was mad and everyone stopped in their tracks because she never yells
nash loves legally blond because it was alisa’s fave movie before she was a lawyer and she got him into it
grayson watches the golden girls as a guilty pleasure
nash watches soap operas and always gasps dramatically at every plot twist
thea only drinks black coffee because she thinks it makes her ✨qUiRkY✨ (she doesn’t even enjoy it)
rebecca and xander hold the world record for largest blanket fort ever built because of a sleepover they had when they were kids
max says things like “im just not like the other girls ✨💖😝🤪🤩🎀💝” ironically
jameson knows swear words in almost every language
one time, jameson started to tickle avery, so she pulled out a swich blade on him
max and avery have a system where they cover for each other no matter what, no questions asked (it saved both of their asses more times then they can count)
libby, max, and avery make up code names for everyone (code name list on next post) (jameson eventually figured out who all the code names were for and now listens to the conversations and gets all of the tea and the girls have no idea)
avery is flexible, and one time max said sum like “ave, your flexible, right” and avery eas like “yeah” and jameson started to think some not-so-g-rated-things (nash then elbowed him and told him to knock it off)
libby once messed up so bad dying her hair, a chunk of it came out
xander once made a robot spider to scare jameson (becauae i hc hes deathly afraid of spiders)
those are my hcsss! i hope upu liked them. please give me tips on how i can improve and please give me hc suggestions and recommendations so i can make more. tysmm!
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prettyinpwn · 2 months ago
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Hi! I don't remember if anyone asked this, but do you have any headcanons about Shermie Pines?
Ah, see, this is the part where I totally self-promote share this wonderful, totally not owned by me ask blog reply: https://askthestans.tumblr.com/post/756343677567336448/hey-stan-can-you-tell-us-stories-about-your
But here's a full summary of my headcanons on the guy:
Older brother to Ford and Stan. I know the timeline's screwy with that baby in the background of ATOTS, but I personally just headcanon that that's some other baby and Shermie's not around in the house because he's off in the military.
I definitely picture him being in the Navy. I picture he's got sailor's tattoos. And actual cool ones, no offense to Ford.
I can't find the reference for the life of me, but I swear to God I once read from Hirsch (I think it was a tweet?) that Stan learned the "you cuddle up to a girl, knock her up, suddenly your life's fallin' apart" oddly specific joke in Little Gift Shop of Horrors from Filbrick. Going with my headcanon that Shermie's the older brother, that means he's the oops baby.
Because of that, and Filbrick's general suckage, Shermie struggled a lot with his dad like the Stans did. I think like Stan, he wasn't especially exceptional - or at least in a way that could make them money like Ford's brains - and Filbrick might have projected a whole "my life fell apart after I had Shermie" thing on the poor guy. So... I don't imagine Shermie got along real well with Filbrick. I also headcanon the large gap in years between Shermie and the Stans as Filbrick's hesitation to have more kids. I think Caryn would have wanted more, and eventually convinced him to have another (and whaddaya know, two for the price of one!), but Filbrick all over just gives me the vibe of a guy that never wanted to be a father, and Shermie knew that even as a kid, so he felt rather unwanted.
In terms of personality, I see Shermie as like... a straight laced golden retriever. Like a pure heart of gold "sees an old lady struggling to walk across the street and gets out and helps her" type guy. Being Mabel and Dipper's grandfather, I think he shares Mabel's optimism but Dipper's sense of right and wrong, which is what makes him a bit of a square (see the Ask the Stans post linked above). Even so, he's not outgoing like Mabel, he's introverted like Ford and Dipper. Like... people picture introverts as moody and quiet with dark thoughts, but when Shermie's quiet he just has happy fantasies like his granddaughter, Mabel (except replace hamster balls and hot boys with, idk... probably baseball or a movie he saw one time and loved).
I see him as a family pillar of support type guy, too. As the older brother in a poor family, I think a lot of responsibility was put on his shoulders. He definitely helped run the pawn shop (though Filbrick got irritated whenever he gave too generous of a discount), and made extra money on the side for his family with a side job. Going into the military was not his choice - given the era, it was probably a draft - and he sent his money home. Caryn probably did Tarot readings on him every night between his letters home hoping they always turned up positive.
He sent little letters home to Stan and Ford, too. He'd make Stan promise to protect Ford for him since he couldn't while he was out at sea, which is what inspired Stan to be such a protector. Then, he made Ford promise to help Stan with his homework like he used to, but once again, couldn't while in the Navy. And he'd tell them about his "epic ocean adventures" to gloss over the horrors of what he was actually going through, which I like to headcanon partially inspired their obsession with fixing up the Stan-O-War so they could have epic ocean adventures someday like their big brother. It wasn't until they were older that they realized, oh... yeah, he wasn't swashbuckling with pirate ghosts in the US Navy. :(
Physically, I think he's the one who looks the most like Caryn. Stan and Ford are like Filbrick short king copy+pastes, but I picture Shermie more tall and lanky like their mother, and has her aquiline nose. Coloring-wise, he's a Pines: brown hair and brown eyes. And sailor tattoos, can't forget those.
I feel like he had to be a pseudo father-figure to the Stans because of Filbrick. Filbrick wasn't the type to teach them how to ride a bike or play a sport, scare "monsters" out of their closet, bring them home for dinner from the beach, etc. Like he fulfilled more of the emotional role of a father to them that Filbrick couldn't.
With Stan, I think he played defense for the kid against Filbrick. I don't think Shermie would have directly gotten angry with Filbrick, especially given his golden retriever-ness and the era, but he defended Stan in little ways. Say Stan broke something, Shermie might have stepped in and tried to smooth things over before Filbrick could get angry. But boy oh boy, if he saw anyone else picking on Stan (or Ford, for that matter), better watch out. He might be a golden retriever, but he's still a Pines, so he's got that whole, "Mess with my family and I'll send you to the hospital." thing going on.
With Ford, I think Shermie was like Stan to him, protecting him and generally trying to make him not feel weird for his polydactyly and nerdiness. While on the surface I think Shermie and Stan might have bonded more because they had more shared surface level interests, I think Ford really looked up to Shermie, especially since Shermie was - as an introvert - the closest to Ford in personality in their family. Shermie wholly supported his love of weirdness, even if he didn't understand what the hell he was talking about half the time, and often would go along with him and Stan on monster hunts as kids just to make sure they got home safe, even if he had no interest in the paranormal himself.
As far as flaws, I can see him having inherited Filbrick's temper and absolutely hating himself for it. Like normally he's a sweet, happy-go-lucky guy, but when he blows up he feels like such an ass afterwards because it reminds himself of his father. His golden retriever personality might have been a way of him trying his best to form an identity far, FAR away from Filbrick, so when parts of Filbrick come out, he feels gross. The Stans look the most like Filbrick, but Shermie - for as nice and sweet as he is - inherited more of Filbrick's bad personality traits than they did.
When Stan got kicked out, Shermie was out at sea and their mother hadn't told him about it, feeling awful she'd let Filbrick just kick Stan out. So when he got home, he was like, "Where the hell is Stan?", and Caryn had to tell him. Shermie always blamed himself for not being there to play defense for Stan like he always had in the past, but at the same time, he was P I S S E D that Stan broke Ford's science fair project. And given that Caryn felt guilty and didn't want to speak against Filbrick and Ford's opinions, and Filbrick is a dick, and Ford was still freshly wounded from the whole fight and disappointment... well, he got a biased view of Stan. He felt so betrayed by Stan for decades for having "hurt" Ford and the family. I think this would explain why he wouldn't have gone to Stan's "funeral" later on. Cue him feeling like an asshole after the events of Gravity Falls and Stan and Ford and/or the niblings tell their grandfather what went down the last three decades.
Even so, I think he tried to find Stan afterwards in his drifter grifter years, but to no avail. Stan didn't want Shermie to find him and disappoint him, and all the evidence Shermie did find seemed to prove what Ford and Filbrick said about Stan, so... :(
He worked in the IRS for his career after the Navy. It made Stan barf when he found out. But Shermie just wanted a good old normal family life and a boring job after what he went through in the war.
As for the way he interacts with Dipper and Mabel, just... pure cuteness. Picture the most stereotypical sweethearted grandfather. Stan and Ford are like the cool old relatives, but Shermie is the big softie old relative. He buys Mabel craptons of arts and crafts and knitting supplies for birthdays and holidays, and he buys Dipper whatever paranormal stuff or video games he wants. He fully sees Dipper as like a little Ford and a lot like his own son (D&M's dad), but he loves Mabel too, of course.
If I think of any more, I'll be sure to add them to this post. :D
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