#yandere!skz | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

daengtokki · 3 months ago

Text

part three // serial killer!Kim Seungmin/afab reader

WC: 14.4k

RATING: mature/explicit/mdni—contains: angst, murder, blood, very brief m/m, bodily penance/self-harm, medication, sex, more blood

SYNOPSIS: Seungmin floats through life alone, haunted by his memories—keeping himself under control, and quieting his mind the only way he knows how…killing and watching the life leave his victims eyes. When you cross his path on a morning hunt, something new (something forgotten) starts to move inside of him, leading both of you on a path to confront the unspeakable past.

thank you again to @thackery-blinks, and also this song

˗ˋˏ♡ please reblog/tag if you enjoy, and help my work reach a wider audience. thank you friends!

[ ML — DEITY MASTERLIST ]

After the second cup of coffee, you start to pay more attention to the time. It feels like an hour has passed, at least, but you can’t be sure, because you have no idea what time it was when the two of you woke up this morning. It’s even colder now, and the draft continues to blow in—that’s how you know he’s still out there. Doing what, though? Being alone, yes…meditating? Punishing himself?

You fill a third cup of coffee and decide to let fifteen more minutes pass before checking on him. You could just get up and go now, but it doesn't feel like your place to question his actions. This is really none of your business. Should you make it your business?

His back is straight, his head is down…you can see the steady puffs of condensation leave his nose. The blanket you pulled from the couch is rolled up under your arm when you push the curtain aside and walk out onto the balcony. It’s even colder than you imagined, now that the walls of his bedroom are gone.

How could he have been out here for so long? Seungmin isn’t made of much; he’s thin. Tall and broad, yes, but thin. And though his body has been warm and comfortable when you’ve been close to him, he can’t possibly keep that warmth in him right now. He doesn’t seem to hear you approach, or kneel at his side. You unfold the flannel blanket, the same one he gave you before, and carefully wrap it around his shoulders, up to his neck. Now he moves a little, and when you rub your hand over his back and shoulders, he opens his eyes and looks at you.

“Why are you out here?”

“Why are you?”

“Come back inside, please”

“Are you sure?” He grabs the blanket and pulls it around him.

“Yes, of course, I’m sure”

He nods, but he doesn’t move yet. Maybe he needs to find some energy first—there’s no way he has any left now. His legs look lifeless and pale, but they still work when he gets his feet flat on the ground. You follow him as he rises, hold his arm, and you’re surprised that he lets you guide him back inside.

He starts toward the door.

“No, you should get back into bed”

“I need some coffee.” His voice is so small, and weak.

“I’ll bring you some”

Seungmin stops, and stands there for a few seconds.

“Please”

When you return, he’s halfway under his covers with the blanket still wrapped around him.

“If you still want to be alone, I won’t stay in here”

“You can stay”

“Okay…” you climb onto the bed, find a spot in the middle, close to him, but not too close, and watch him as he quietly shivers. His cheeks and ears are red and chapped from the wind, and his usually pouty pink lips are pale and barely there against his colorless face. “Get all the way under the covers.” You reach a hand out to touch his neck, and he jumps.

“I’m sorry if I hurt you before”

“I’m fine, you didn’t hurt me”

“I didn’t?” He reaches out and lifts your shirt, and the marks look even more apparent. A few bruises are already starting to bloom where his fingers pressed. “I did.”

“Lie down, you’re still shivering.” His hand is like ice when you grab it, but he shakes free and sets it flat across the bruises. It feels so good, but you try not to make your content sigh too obvious. “Okay, okay…lie down.”

Seungmin listens this time, and you decide to take a chance and move closer. You still don’t know why he was out there, or why he was torturing himself, but maybe he’ll allow you to wrap an arm around him and pull him even closer. His body is so cold, you’re not sure you have enough heat in you to help, but you’re going to try. You’re not sure why, but you know he would do the same for you.

/ / /

Wrapped up…that’s really the only way to describe him this time. Seungmin’s long limbs are all over you, holding tightly. The look on his sleeping face, at least what you can see squeezed against him, is the most content you’ve ever seen it. He’s sleeping like a puppy curled up in a heated blanket. And that’s exactly how you feel—warm, damp with sweat. Too warm. Seungmin’s heat returned, and then some. His cheek feels like a radiator when you touch it.

“I’m so tired,” he mumbles, moves around a little, then settles again. “Why am I so tired?”

“Because you sat outside for hours and it’s -2 degrees”

His eyes pop open like he’s wondering why someone is in his bed, answering him. He lets go, pushes himself back, and examines you.

“Why did you do that?”

“Do what?”

Well, maybe he’s not all there yet. It doesn’t matter. Something about being in bed with him like this again blurs everything. You’re comfortable and warm here, and this is all that’s mattered. You should probably check your messages, your email, your bank account…something—your family might actually be worried enough to send money. It doesn’t matter, though. You don’t plan on going anywhere right now.

“I need to shower, and go out…what time is it?”

“Go out? Why do you have to go out?”

“I have to find…” Seungmin stops and looks at you again. “Someone.”

“Already?”

“Yes”

When did he do this last? Did he do it recently? The last time you asked him, it was in the park, and he told you he killed someone the day you met. After you met, because he didn’t kill you. You can’t even remember how long ago that was, so you close your eyes and think…two weeks, and—

“It’s been two days,” he says.

Oh, it was recent. You find yourself looking around the room as if you missed some clue about his recent activities. Is that why the bedding is all new? Did he do it right here on this bed? “Two days?”

He rises slowly. The arm that’s still draped over your hip slides away, and he stumbles a little as he gets to his feet. “Yeah, on Friday. After I thought you left.” And he’s gone without another word.

You hear him in the shower—he’s in there for a very long time, and when he finally comes out, a cloud of steam follows him. He’s still dripping wet, and his hair is slicked back so tight, he almost looks like a different person. And he’s completely naked. No towel wrapped around his waist, no shorts, just wet skin glowing in the sunlight. Seungmin makes himself more coffee, an iced one this time, and doesn’t say a word as he sips and looks absently at his phone.

He takes his coffee to the bedroom, and he comes back out a few minutes later, partially dressed. All you can do is watch, nervously, as he approaches where you sit at the corner of the couch. Why are you so nervous? Seungmin isn’t even looking at you— he’s staring at the floor, and then at whatever small thing he has in his hand. He holds it out and waits for you to take it before speaking.

“Get whatever you need, or whatever you want…both,” he says softly—practically whispers it. “Max it out, I don’t care.”

If you didn’t assume he planned on doing this since last night, you’d think it was his indirect way of apologizing. Seungmin clearly has money to throw at things to make them go away, or to bring them closer to him. You’re not sure which of those he wants from you right now.

This was your first time shopping in Seoul, and it was overwhelming being on your own in the crowds, but you have to admit it had its moments of calm, and even a few moments of joy—particularly when you found a dress very similar to one that you lost, and especially when you stumbled upon something that reminded you of Seungmin. It seemed silly to get, but it seemed still to pass up, too, and you haven’t decided yet if you’ll give it to him. But you have it just in case. Maybe he’ll be in a better mood after a few more hours of solitude. Maybe he won’t be as bad as you think he’ll be at accepting gifts.

The apartment is dark, and very quiet when you return. Seungmin gave you a copy of both keys, and the code to the final lock—being trusted with that did feel good, and it made your morning a little better after his standoffish attitude. It does make it feel like last night's comments probably weren’t the truth, but you still have to wonder about everything else. You set the bags down and look around; the kitchen light is on, and you can see some soft light coming from the crack beneath his bedroom door. There is sound, but it’s very quiet and you can’t catch any type of conversation.

The closer you get, the more confusing it becomes, until it finally hits you—you think you know what you’re hearing, and it throws your heart into your throat, and you feel a little sick. Seungmin is moaning, over and over, but it’s not quite how he sounds when he’s with you. It’s a steady rhythm, and then he stops…starts again, stops. It almost sounds forced, but he’s the only sound you can hear. Maybe he’s getting himself off; maybe last night wasn’t enough. You don’t want to interrupt him if that is what’s going on, but when you hear another voice, you really start to feel sick.

“Is that good?” the voice says. It sounds masculine, but still, it’s hard to tell for sure. You can’t understand it, anyway. You don’t hear Seungmin’s response, but the other person laughs, and you feel your entire body start to heat up. It could be from anger, or embarrassment, or sadness...all of the above. You feel pretty stupid standing there, but it’s not like Seungmin is your boyfriend. He’s not yours, and you guess you’re not his, either. No, he just took in a stray and gave it unlimited money to shop, absolutely no big deal. Nothing serious.

“Yeah, you are…” Still the nameless, faceless voice. Definitely masculine. “Come back, don’t be a tease.”

You take a few steps back. The language barrier means you can’t say for sure what’s happening behind that door, but it feels obvious. The deep, sensual whispers and the moans can only equal one thing.

“Yeah, keep going”

It’s Seungmin’s voice that time. And then everything goes quiet. A few seconds later, he comes, loudly. And then it’s quiet again.

You take a few more steps back until you hit the side of the kitchen counter, and it’s then that you hear a loud thud. Very loud, like something heaving hitting the ground.

“Fuck…what are you doing?” This time, the voice sounds…angry? No, surprised, confused. It’s hard to tell even as you listen as carefully as possible. Your head is swimming with every strange thought, though. “No…stop, please.”

“What the fuck?” You say out loud to nobody. Your legs are trembling. Another loud thud makes you jump, and then you hear Seungmin. It almost doesn’t sound like him, but you know it’s him. It’s big, and deep, and unlike any version of him you’ve heard…

“Fucking…hold still. Fuck, give me a break.”

The door shakes, the doorknob turns, and as soon as it swings open, all you see is the stranger's terrified face. He’s half-dressed, jeans still mostly zipped, but he slips a little as he makes a run for the door. Seungmin is right behind him, and you just barely see the shine of his knife as he runs by.

Your legs tremble more, and you don’t know how you’re still standing. The feeling of needing to vomit now hits, but nothing happens when you lean forward—just a dry heave, and then your throat tightens right back up. He doesn’t see you…he has one thing in his sights, and it’s almost at the door you’re pretty sure you left unlocked.

The man stumbles again, and Seungmin grabs him by the back of the neck as he falls forward onto the carpet. But he screams, and it’s so loud. You see the glint again as he pulls back and plunges it into the side of his neck. The sound…you think you actually hear the metal as it slides through his skin and tendons and cartilage. Did you really hear it all the way over here? You did hear Seungmin’s angry growl, and you can still hear his heavy, uneven pulls of breath. Finally, you fall to your knees and take one deep breath. The light-headedness outweighs the feeling of vomiting, but you manage to keep it together.

“Son of a bitch,” he says, in English this time, and you definitely hear the blade being pulled out and thrown to the side. It bounces and makes a mess everywhere it hits, and it lands right next to one of the bags you brought home.

Seungmin sighs and runs his fingers through his messy hair, “another fucking mess.” He says it in a sing-songy voice as he turns his head and looks for his knife.

You can see his face now, and it changes immediately when he notices the bags. His eyes grow, and his tongue pokes out a little between his lips. First he looks at his work again, and the mess of blood slowly pouring onto the carpet. Then he looks at the door, which you know he can see is unlocked. If the stranger would have beat him to it…well, you’d rather not think about that. Finally, he turns his head. His eyes seem to soften as they land on you, and something about his face looks guilty.

“Hey,” he says, and very carefully stands up. Seungmin towers over the body, examines it again, and then adjusts his shorts. It’s the only thing he’s wearing, except for two silver necklaces, and a little bit of blood on his stabbing hand. “Hey…I thought you’d be out longer,” he quickly closes the space between you and kneels a few feet away. "Don’t move, I’ll be right back.”

You stay in your spot and watch him as he heads for the sink to wash his hands…once, and then a second time.

“You okay?” He kneels again, much closer this time, and places his hand on your knee. “Hm?” Seungmin keeps his face relaxed, and his eyes heavy, as if he’s trying his best not to make this seem as serious as it really is. To him, it is nothing, you think, and he may be lacking a bit in empathy, but he’s smart enough to know that what you just witnessed was a lot. “Do you wanna stand with me?”

No, you don’t, but you nod anyway and give him your hands.

He stares at you for a long time, silent, wondering what to say next. “Why don’t you go take a long, hot shower? I’ll set some clothes in there for you.”

“Why?”

“Because when you come out, you’ll feel a little better, and everything will be back to normal.”

“Normal?”

“Yeah, mostly. Please, just give me…30 minutes.”

“How are you going to fix this in a half an hour?”

That’s a very good question. Seungmin can clean up in that span of time, but he certainly can’t dispose of this body, as well. Luckily, he usually has a backup plan floating around in his head. “You’ll have to believe me.” He relaxes the vice grip he has on your wrists and slides his hands up your arms. “Try to.”

/ / /

He digs out the hard shell suitcase from the living room closet, and thanks himself for choosing a smaller kill this time. This is not how he likes doing things, and the knife is also not his favorite, but what he really doesn’t like is having an audience. This is a first. At least he didn’t know until after the fact.

As soon as the body, his shoes, his shirt, and whatever else he took off, is out of his sight, he focuses on the carpet. He rolls the rug up neatly, cuts it off as cleanly as possible, and wraps it as tightly as he can in several layers of garbage bags. Luckily, nothing made it down to the hardwood floor. Only a few little spots from the knife need to be cleaned. And the knife, of course. The biggest problem now is how he’s getting this down 26 floors to the basement, two separate times before he has a chance to get to the bedroom.

Seungmin tries his best, and he underestimates how good he really is. He locks everything away in his basement storage, for now, and gets back to the apartment with time to spare. Maybe you’ll give him a few extra minutes. Or maybe you’ll stay in there until he comes to get you.

The bedroom isn’t bad, but you know what was going on in here. He pulls off the bedspread and replaces it with a heavy blanket, just big enough to cover the king-size bed. The clothes on the floor get tossed in the hamper. Everything is thrown back in his drawer, neatly, or in the trash. He’s never worked so fast, because he’s never had to, and he really hopes he never has to speed run this again.

Last, he looks down at himself. He’s sweating, and out of breath, but luckily, he can’t find a splatter of blood on him. He rips off the tshirt and sweatpants, and replaces them with fresh ones.

You still haven’t made a sound, thirty-seven minutes later, so Seungmin knocks… “Hey, do you need anything?”

“Can I come out?”

He smiles at your small, timid voice. “Yes, you can come out.”

Seungmin looks around with you, a little paranoid he forgot something in his rush, but everything looks normal. Everything except the missing piece of carpet. He follows as you walk over to inspect the area, and when you seem satisfied, he follows into the bedroom.

“Where is it, the body?” You look around carefully. This is the first time you really explore his bedroom, and Seungmin doesn’t seem to mind when you end up at one of his bookshelves.

“Not here, not in the apartment.” He watches your hand reach for the music box, but you don’t open it. Your finger slides over the lid, and then you move on to the withering vase of flowers.

“You need some fresh heliotrope. We can change the water, though…they might perk up for another day.”

“Yeah, we can do that.” Seungmin’s heart starts to race, and he doesn’t know why. It picks up even more when you return to the music box, gently pop the latch, and open it. He holds his breath, but luckily, he didn’t wind it. It’s quiet.

“Oh, this…” a dainty silver chain is pinched between your fingers, but you examine it closely before you continue, “no, it’s almost the same.” You hold it up so the St. Michael medallion hangs and sways like a pendulum. “Is this yours?”

“It belonged to my mother. So did the music box.” Seungmin reaches out and grabs the charm between his thumb and forefinger. “Yeah, I guess it’s mine.” How did we get from there, to here? he thinks to himself. You don’t ask him anything else—you carefully set the necklace back inside, close it, and pick up the vase of flowers.

“Where did you get these? Is there a greenhouse nearby?

It takes so much of his energy not to tell you exact truths right now, and he doesn’t know why. Seungmin can’t help but want you to ask him what happened; what did you walk into? Why aren’t you more shaken by this? You did have time to think in the shower, but thinking is one thing, and demanding more information is another. He was actually ready to explain himself. “Yeah, sort of.”

“Can we go get more?” Your voice fades as you head for the kitchen, to the sink, where you carefully replace the water in the vase.

No, Seungmin doesn’t think he can handle that right now. He’s never quite sure when he can, and he usually has to force himself. That might be the case soon. He does need to replace these.

“You gonna dry these, too?”

“…are you okay?”

He assumes by the long silence and the way you’re staring at the flowers…probably not. It was a good act, but you still don’t say anything when you walk back to the bedroom and set the vase back in its spot.

“I didn’t think you’d be back so soon.” Again, you leave the room. Seungmin is beginning to dislike not getting a proper response from you. “Dammit…will you please just answer me?”

You’ve been trying to think of a way to answer him—you really have. This entire day, aside from your alone time shopping, has been strange, and so uncomfortable. He can’t possibly expect you to just be okay, though…Seungmin isn’t stupid. He just wants something, anything besides you changing the subject again. But how are you supposed to tell him the kill wasn’t the worst part? Or that you weren’t even completely sure he was telling you the truth about his killing? You actually thought for a moment that he made the whole thing up, or exaggerated. You don’t have to wonder about that anymore. He did it, and it wasn’t his first time. “I’m okay, it was just,” you think, stall for another few seconds, “hearing you in there with someone else caught me off-guard.”

“Oh, that’s all? I thought I scared you...set off another panic attack, maybe.” The look you give him makes him revisit his response. “It was just a blowjob, I barely touched him, but that will happen again.”

“I know”

“You're jealous?” Seungmin smirks and takes a step toward you. “Is that it?”

“No, I’m not jealous,” you lie. What a stupid lie. “I just wasn’t expecting it.”

“Nobody else lives in my house, or spends my money.” Another step. “Right?”

“Yes”

Close enough to kiss, but no. He reaches out, touches your neck, and leans forward as he does, “nobody else sleeps in my bed.” You can see yourself in his unblinking eyes, until he’s even closer. His lips ghost over your forehead, moving slowly over your temple, and to the spot just above your ear. He kisses once. “Just you.”

A moment of courage comes over you—he’s so close, and he smells so good, and you need to touch him. His hips feel good in your hands, and when he makes a sound, you move them slowly up his sides. You haven’t forgotten, he’s sensitive here.

Seungmin moves down until his breath tickles your ear, “but nobody touches you,” he kisses again, “or I’ll kill them.”

“I don’t want anyone else”

“Good. Now…are you gonna show me what you bought?”

/ / /

“I can try some, right?” He leans back on the couch, yawns, and stretches. Everything suddenly feels very normal. He feels like himself right now, and you suspect it’s his post-kill high.

The way his eyes follow you all over the room is suffocating, though. For some reason, it's making you feel shy, and way too seen. You can’t figure out what it is he sees in you, and what wants from you, and from all of this. What are you giving that somebody else couldn’t? If you knew what he looked for in his victims, maybe it’d be easier to figure out, but you don’t know. You don’t know why he talked to you that morning.

“Yeah, you bought it”

One of the things you bought, something you definitely didn’t need, was 70,000 won almond blossom tea. You only wandered into the shop to escape the crowd, but the owner let you try a sample, and it was impossible to pass up after tasting it. The scent, and the flavor took you back to the warmth of him wrapped around you this morning. It felt good.

Seungmin sneaks up behind you, and when his hand squeezes your waist, the hot water almost ends up on the counter. “It’s pretty…it smells nice,” he’s so close, you can almost feel his lips on you. “How long?”

“Two minutes.” You didn’t think brewing tea would make him so touchy and sweet, but you’ve started expecting pretty much anything from him. “Maybe a little less.”

“Show me something you bought”

“Pick something”

He slides away and heads for the three large bags at the end of the couch, and then he peeks in each one. “Okay, let’s try this one.” He reaches in and pulls out a smaller bag from inside the large one.

“Oh, maybe not that one…”

“Why not?”

“Pick something else”

“Okay, I’ll try again.” He reaches into another large bag, and again, pulls out a small one. “This one, you can’t say no.”

You nod and hand him his tea, “I won’t say no,” and take a sip. He does, too, and you watch him. “Do you like it?”

Before he answers, he takes one more slow sip, and a smile appears. His cheeks round out, and you see the shine of his teeth behind his lips. “I do…it’s nice and sweet.”

“Good,” you peek in the small bag and pull out a flat white box.

Seungmin watches the little golden movements as he swirls his cup, closes his eyes, and drinks again. Memories pop up in his mind: the kitchen, and the sun coming in through the window above the sink. His favorite chair—it faced the stove where he watched her cook every morning, every afternoon. Bundles of dried flowers hanging by the doorway, and the sweet smell of yakgwa if he behaved all week. Sometimes even if he didn’t.

He doesn’t realize how quickly he drains his cup, and he hopes you’ll make him another one.

“Hey…you there?”

“Hm? Yes, I’m here…sorry”

“I wasn’t sure about getting them, or about getting anything for you. So I hope it’s okay.”

“You bought something for me?" His eyes grow as he looks at the box, "this was supposed to be your shopping trip.”

Still soft, and you hope with everything you have that he stays like this for a little longer. Tonight, in the morning, and maybe through tomorrow. You think it, scream it in your head. Maybe he’ll pick up on it just enough. Maybe it’s the tea. You should make him more.

“I know, but…”

“Let me see," he moves the tissue paper out of the way and looks, touches the soft fabric first, and then carefully picks it up.

“It’s corny, I’m sorry”

“Corny? No, they're beautiful.” He reaches in and picks up the second silky handkerchief, and runs his thumb over the embroidered purple flowers, every petal, “and these won't die." Seungmin keeps one and hands the other back to you. You don't know, of course, but this is the first gift he's been given in years.

“Oh, they came as a pair…you don’t want both?”

“No, you keep one. It doesn’t look like you bought much for yourself.”

He’s right, you didn’t get as much as you should have, and that explains why you got back early and interrupted his work. You should have made a list.

“We can go again tomorrow. Maybe you just need company.”

“Company? You’re gonna go shopping with me?”

“Yes, we can do that. We can get lunch somewhere nice, and maybe we can go get more flowers...what? Is that okay?”

Whatever confused look you’re giving him, he caught it. This is the Seungmin from last night, just happier, and more euphoric. “Yeah, we should do that. How about we have more tea, and then we get some sleep? It’s been a long day.”

“It has, but I need to bleach my hair”

“Right now?”

“Yeah, I almost forgot. There were a lot of people around earlier, when I…you know, picked him.”

“I can help if you’d like. And make you some more tea.”

/ / /

The orangey-blonde head of hair sticking out from the covers confuses you in your half-sleep. It’s early, and you set an alarm, but you can’t remember why. Last night hasn’t come back to you quite yet. The puppy plush is in the gap between you, and you really don’t remember putting him there last night. But he’s there, sitting up, almost like he just walked up and took a seat. He’s still a mystery, just like his owner.

The bleach job didn’t work as well as he’d hoped last night, because he forgot he just tried to darken it a few days before. It’s still soft and pretty, and even in his sleep, his bangs frame his face perfectly. Lucky for him, he’s handsome enough to pull anything off.

Seungmin squirms, rolls onto his other side, and settles again. Now, looking at his face, you remember why you set that alarm. How could you forget? You have the day planned out with him, and you’re counting on a smile when he finally wakes up. Something put him in a better mood, a mood good enough for a date, and you suspect it was two kills in three days. He moves again, but you don’t want to wake him yet. He looks happy, or at least comfortable. If he’s dreaming, it’s not strong enough to show, so maybe he got a good night of sleep. Again, you think, hope, plead for the same man to be there when he wakes.

His eyelashes flutter a few times, and open slowly. Close again, open. He looks at the dog, blinks, and then he finds you. Your stomach swirls with butterflies as he stares, and finally, after really waking up, a smile pulls on his lips—a sweet, sleepy smile.

“Jal jat-ssuh?”

“Ne,” he laughs. “That sounded good. Did you?”

“I did”

“Is my hair still orange?” He sits himself up and pulls on a piece to check.

Hopefully it doesn’t discourage him from today’s plans. Hopefully he remembers today’s plans. “It is, it looks good on you, though. A very handsome tangerine.”

“Tangerine? Do you like tangerines?”

“I love them”

“We’ll get some today”

He didn’t forget, and he’s still okay. Seungmin’s head falls back to the pillow, eyes close again, but his smile stays on his lips. And then he starts to hum. If this mood lasts long enough, maybe you can finally hear him sing. You let him go for a little while longer, until he starts to quiet, probably dozing off again…

Seungmin is cute when he’s focused, and he’s very focused on the grill between you; poking and flipping the meat, plating it carefully. His mouth is squished to one side, and the dimple on his cheek is especially noticeable.

“You’re good at this”

“Hm? Oh, sorry, I’m so used to eating alone. I didn’t mean to ignore you.”

“I am, too, it’s okay.” You take the plate from him, and he hands you a few of the things he hoarded on his side of the table. “How are you feeling?”

“How am I feeling?” He takes a very big bite of zucchini, and it takes a few moments for him to get it down. “I feel…pretty good. Better now that we’re eating. I don’t like being hungry.”

“Good. The mall was pretty crowded, so it was nice not being alone. Still, it’s a little overwhelming.”

“We shouldn’t have to do it again for a while. I think we replaced everything you lost, plus extra.”

“Too much extra”

“No, not if it makes you happy”

Happy Seungmin is still here, and now he has a full stomach...even better. You can’t get attached to this feeling, but you’ve become much more attached to him than you thought was possible it such a short amount of time—all of him, good and bad…and the bad still seems to outweigh the good by a lot. It doesn’t seem believable, looking at him right now, but this was him the day you met, you think. Maybe not completely, because he was obviously on the hunt when you showed up, but this Seungmin was there, a little bit. You could feel it—he felt right. He still does.

“Sitting here with you makes me happy”

He stops stirring his broth and looks at you. Was that too much? It was too much, you might as well have just told him you love him. What if you trigger something, and whatever is going on in his head changes completely? You need to get a hold on whatever is going on in your own head. He’s staring, and you can feel it, even with your eyes fixed on your plate.

“Why?” He whispers. You barely hear it, and it’s as if he’s speaking to himself. Asking himself. “I haven’t done anything to make you feel that way.”

“Yes you have”

“Tell me”

The server interrupts with more banchan, more water, more tea. It gives you a whole ten seconds to think, and not sound like an idiot when you answer. Does he really want to know, or is he just putting you on the spot?

“You came back for me, and you took care of me…do you remember what you said to me last night?”

“I tend to forget what I say, apparently”

There’s some attitude in his voice, and you immediately regret saying it. He obviously remembers you asking him the same thing yesterday morning.

“I remember. Depends, though, I said a lot of things.” He moves his eyes around as he thinks, and you’re relieved to see a smirk pop up. “But I assume you’re referring to…killing anyone who touches you.”

He did say a lot of things last night, but yeah…you nod at him.

“You liked that.” No more attitude. He whispers, almost growls under his breath. “Didn’t you?” His eyes are so heavy, and dark. He’s still smiling, but it’s different. It’s so much different. “You did.”

“Maybe”

“Speaking of that..someone in here has been staring at you since we walked in”

“I doubt that”

His eyes move slowly to the left, and stay there. You look in the same direction as discreetly as possible, and you see who he’s talking about—it’s the bartender, and Seungmin is right. He wipes down the bar and smiles at you, but looks away almost immediately after. Maybe the timing was just a coincidence, though.

“He’s just looking. He barely looked.”

“I don’t really like that, either”

“Seungmin”

A shiver runs over you when he says your name…whispers it. “Why don’t you get up and head to the bathroom. Leave the door unlocked.” He cocks his head to the side when you don’t move, or respond. “Please.”

He smiles when you push your chair back, and shows you all of his teeth when you stand. Still happy. If this keeps him that way, he doesn’t have to ask again—as if you'd deny him. Your legs already shake at the thought of him touching you. The bartender's eyes are on you as you walk by, and you feel them linger as you disappear down the short hallway toward the (luckily) private bathroom. You close the door, lean against it, and look around. It’s nice, at least.

Thirty or so seconds pass between you closing the door, and his soft knock. You don’t know why your heart races. It could be that you’ve never done this before, and it doesn’t help that the bartender saw both of you come back here, and he knows exactly what’s going on. If you’re nervous enough, you won’t be able to do this, and he’ll be very disappointed.

The doorknob turns, and he comes in slowly. It’s just Seungmin, there’s no reason to be nervous, and it’s just public sex…very public for you…but your stomach drops when you see someone else…not him, not even close. You only see the face for a split second before he disappears—pulled backward so fast, and with so much force, the door slams shut again. A thud on the other side of the wall echoes through you, through the bathroom, and you have to assume through the entire restaurant. And then, right before you pull the door open, you hear it again. The man—the bartender, is on the floor, flat on his back with one hand covering his bloody face, and there’s a crack in the plaster wall. Seungmin is standing over him, still seeing red, but showing some restraint by not touching him again.

“Wh-what happened?”

He grabs your arm and pulls you closer. “Naleul bwa...” He nudges the man with his foot until he removes his hand and looks up. “Creep.”

A small crowd gathers at the end of the narrow hallway, but he pushes through, still holding you close. Nobody says a word or stops you as you grab your bags and head for the door, and as soon as you get outside, you’re both lost in the crowd.

“Stop, stop…Seungmin!”

“Yeah, what is it?” He slows down, but he doesn’t stop. “You okay?”

“What the hell happened?”

He doesn’t answer. He’s walking you as far away as possible, as calmly as possible. The look on his face is familiar, but different…nervous, worried, excited maybe. You can tell his adrenaline is sky high, and you don’t know why, but you assume this is unusual for him—this somewhat random act of violence. Almost everything you’ve witnessed from him has been disjointed and clumsy, but he hasn’t been caught yet, so you know he’s been careful up until this point. You’re messing him up.

Finally, he stops and lets you catch your breath.

“We’ll head back, drop your things off…”

“Seungmin”

“I’ll drive us to Uljin, if you still want to get flowers”

“Uljin?”

“Yeah, let’s go before we miss the train”

The train is crowded, of course—standing room only, and Seungmin’s fingers grip your wrist the entire time. He’s clearly overwhelmed and soothing himself; there’s nothing romantic or possessive about it, he’s just suddenly very nervous about something. Either the crowd, or what just happened. You change the subject for now, not wanting to move his mind around the incident anymore than necessary. “Uljin is far.”

“I know. I can get us there in three hours, and if you’re tired we can wait until morning to drive back.”

You close the space still left between you, until your face grazes his sweatshirt, “why so far for flowers?” The small corner of the silk handkercheif just pokes out from his back pocket. You didn't notice it before, or catch him putting it there before you left this morning.

“They’re the best ones. And they’re always there for me.”

The ride wasn’t as long and awkward as you feared it would be. Both of you were silent most of the way, but Seungmin kept his music low the entire time, not once deviating from whatever playlist he initially put on. It feels like he’s made this drive more than a few times, and he has a set routine. As you moved closer and closer to the end of the drive, everything became greener, and darker. Lush and beautiful in some spots, but desolate and almost forgotten in others. It all seemed to reflect him.

You’re not sure how far out you are from the destination when he makes the second and final stop, but it’s been three hours, almost exactly, so you wonder why he made another stop at all.

He doesn’t go inside the gas station, but you do. For no reason, really. You check yourself in the bathroom mirror, grab some water, and then watch him for a moment before leaving. Maybe he just needed to stretch his legs—he’s walking slowly toward the edge of the pumps, and then across toward where a small section of woods start. It zig-zags upward and into a much larger section that you can’t see the end of. Seungmin is staring through those trees, hands in his coat pockets, and he doesn’t move when you exit and jingle the bell above the door.

“Here, you haven’t had anything since we left.” He looks at the bottled water in your hands, sighs, and takes it.

“About twenty minutes…we should be there”

“Where exactly is there?” Seungmin downs half of his water before stopping and taking a breath. It’s cold out, but sweat is beading on his forehead and around his temples. You reach up and touch his cheek with the back of your hand, and he turns his head away. “Sorry. You’re very warm. Do you feel okay?”

He nods and takes another long drink, “there is the house I grew up in.”

“Oh.” They’re the best ones, and they’re always there for me makes much more sense now. It’s sentimental. The flowers here are special…special enough for a six-hour roundtrip drive.

The remainder of the trip takes you further into the woods. The road narrows, and the pine trees get closer and closer until, every mile or so, there’s a break in the woods, a clearing, and you can see the sky as it slowly darkens. You know when you arrive, because there’s one lonely hanok in the distance. Seungmin sighs again. He never turned the music back on, so you can hear every sound, and every breath. The snap of twigs under the tires, the chirp of bugs, and the chatter of a few magpies fills most of the silence.

“You grew up here?”

He doesn’t answer until you turn and look at him.

“Yeah, until I was nine. And then…” he can stop there. He doesn’t have to tell you every single thing. You’re just making conversation, not setting him down for therapy. “I got passed around to different family members.”

“Were they good to you?”

Somebody certainly wasn’t, and Seungmin knows you know that. He can feel you looking through him, gathering up his thoughts, and his feelings, and figuring things out on your own. “Yes, my grandparents did the best they could, and my aunts…they did, too.”

His answers just make more questions, considering his life now, but you’ll save them for another time.

The car comes to a slow stop. The house is dark and overgrown, but still somewhat looked after, you assume because of him. To your left is a large garden shed, not as well kept. Once, it was probably nice, but time was not kind to it. A little further down is a large greenhouse, also starting to show its age, but it’s iron and glass, and it’s standing strong without much help.

“Good”

“I wasn’t…uh,” he stops himself this time, and reconsiders. Instead of finishing his thought, he opens the door and steps out.

You do the same, and as soon as you stand and close the door, something hits you. It hits your chest, and works its way down to your stomach until you can’t stay on your feet. You kneel, trying not to fall onto the cold, damp ground, but your hands spread out in front of you as you lean forward and empty the contents of your stomach onto the grass.

“Fuck…what happened? Are you okay?”

“Uh, yeah I think so. Maybe.”

“Do you get car sick?”

His hand on your shoulders takes you back two nights, and the memory makes you feel a little bit better. Opening your eyes and staring into the distance makes it worse again. “No.”

“You’re warm, too”

“Maybe we should do this tomorrow, if we’re staying the night." After the long drive, Seungmin might want to do it now, so why are even asking? But you also know he doesn't feel well. The fever heat between the two of you could bloom more flowers. "We should."

“We can," he says, secretly a little grateful, “I’ll find a room somewhere”

He pulls you to your feet, and it feels awful, but once you’re up and leaning against him, the dizziness is gone. “We’re not staying here?”

“No, we wouldn’t be very comfortable in there”

/ / /

The sick feeling passes eventually, and the room Seungmin finds at the last minute is not far. It’s small, and it’s comfortable. He’s working on the instant tteokbokki a few feet away, very focused, just like he was at the restaurant.

“It smells good”

“Feeling better? We have frozen bungeoppang, too. The hosts are very generous, we got lucky.”

“Lucky, even with one tiny bed?”

“Yeah, even with one tiny bed,” he laughs, and looks at the twin-size bed tucked away in the corner. He’s reminded of the one in your apartment that he never got to try, and he’s surprised his mind can even go there right now. The memory of his last trip home is mostly a blur, even though it wasn’t more than a day or two before you showed up. “Let’s eat, and get into bed.”

Still happy. So why are you suddenly feeling so empty? “I don’t wanna go to sleep yet.” You pick at and stir your food, and watch him devour his. “Hey…”

“Yes?”

“What happened earlier, at the restaurant?”

He was hoping you forgot about that. Seungmin isn’t typically violent unless he plans on seeing it to the end, so today was unusual. He keeps himself out of sight, and out of people’s memories, because he can’t afford to be noticed that much. He doesn’t regret what he did, though, and he has no problem admitting to himself that it felt good. “Before I got up, he started following you. He watched you walk by, and maybe you looked at him and he thought it was an invitation…or he’s just a piece of shit taking advantage of the opportunity.”

“I don’t think I looked at him”

“I caught up, just in time”

“And smashed his face into the wall”

“I didn’t know what I was going to do, but yeah, it seemed like the best choice at the time”

“It was effective”

“Still ruined our moment.” Seungmin’s eyes are tired, but he’s obviously nudging you into bed for more than just sleep. He wants to make up for whatever lust was building inside of him earlier, and you haven’t told him no a single time yet. Why would he expect you to tell him no tonight? But you’re feeling off—much more than just tired. It may have been the adrenaline rush earlier, combined with the very long car ride. It could just be the new setting, because the new setting reminds you a little bit of home, right down to the claustrophobic woods and this 300 square feet of living space.

“Maybe we should go to sleep.” You say, staring hard at your food as you eat. “It’s been a long day.”

/ / /

The twin bed is perfect, at least for you. Seungmin backed himself against the wall and kept his hands to himself after you crawled in beside him, and luckily, there was nothing but sleep for both of you almost immediately. A sharp pinging sound wakes you, and you open your eyes to him at the tiny kitchen counter. The sound you hear is sleet falling against the window, and the realization makes you shiver under the covers…but the smell of brewing coffee brings you right back.

The icy rainfall picks up as you force yourself into a sitting position, but staying up is still hard, regardless of his soft good morning, and his eyes peeking over his mug.

“Morning.” The headache has been there for a while, but you’re conscious now, and really feeling it. “What time is it?”

“It’s almost eleven, we slept a lot”

You count to three and force your feet onto the cold floor, “doesn’t sound like good driving weather out there,” and make it to the other stool, where now you see an empty mug and a plate of warm bungeoppang. Without a word, you reach a hand up and set it on his forehead. “How did you sleep?”

Seungmin doesn’t shake it away, but he gives you a confused look, and he shrugs. “I slept.”

“Did you have any dreams? Nightmares?”

“The usual. Why?”

“Just wondering.” Because you had one, too. “You had a fever yesterday. It’s gone.”

“I think you took it from me, you look miserable”

“Do I?” Miserable is a strong word, but the headache, and the slightly off feeling is definitely close. Maybe you’re allergic to something up here. You make a mental note to take something for that, and for the headache, just in case.

“As soon as the rain stops, we’ll get what we came for, and then head back. Eat something.”

/ / /

The drive through the narrow forest road is even crunchier this time. Tiny icicles hang off tree branches, and no bugs chirp this time…no birds sing. It’s somehow darker this afternoon than it was yesterday at dusk, and the low mist hanging over the property makes you wish you would have just gotten this over with yesterday. Something strange is definitely living in these woods It’s beautiful, though, in its own lonely way. It’s still very alive here and it breathes easily through the cracks in the wood.

Seungmin is quiet, and you expect that. Whatever you’re feeling right now, he must be feeling it threefold. This is his home—or it was, at least, at a very important time in his life. The memory of why he had to leave is still lingering here.

Greenhouse is all he says as he steps out. You follow, and this time, you feel okay when your feet hit the ground. The headache is still there, but not so bad that you can’t fight through it, so you catch up with him and try not to lose your footing in the soft, muddy ground.

“Take your time, it’s uneven down here”

You watch each step as you take it, and weave around the stones and spots where the grass is drowning from the melted snow and ice. Some spots are still slick, so you wonder how anything could possibly be hanging on mid-December…especially what he came for. Even inside the greenhouse. You catch a shine of light from the corner of your eye and stop, even as he bolts ahead of you. Something in the ruins of the shed catches what little bit of sunlight makes it through the clouds.

"Come on..."

The boots you wore could have been better; could have been worse. Seungmin’s Redwings are splattered and caked with mud, old and new, because he knew what he was getting into up here. These are specifically the boots he wears here, you think. No hunting, no murder, no body disposal. Every job has its own equipment.

It’s even prettier up close, and inside, through the condensation rising up every perfect panel of glass, you see green and yellow. Purple, and blue. He opens the door to the anteroom, and the sweet smell of flowers fills you up. When he opens the main door, the warmth still trapped inside almost knocks you on your back.

“Does someone tend to this all year, or…”

“No.” He heads to a workspace in the corner and picks up a pair of gardening shears, a little rusty, but probably still very sharp. “Nobody comes here but me.”

“I like it, it’s nice”

“Yeah?”

You catch up to him and nod, “mhm, I don’t like it outside, but this is better.”

Seungmin leads you to the spot filled with purple flowers. Some of them fill big decorative pots, and some are elevated on homemade wooden shelves, but the largest ones are in the ground. It’s a little bit chaotic, but something about it feels organized at the same time. It’s everywhere, but it’s everywhere exactly where somebody wanted it.

“I see why you came all this way. It’s yours.”

He doesn’t answer. Seungmin lowers himself to the ground and kneels, and you watch as he does nothing for a very long time. The sounds of the greenhouse take over; the creak of the panels as the wind outside hits, and the cries of the bugs. Whatever insects managed to make a home for themselves here are very happy. And it isn't until now that you notice the sound of a single windchime. You find a spot to sit and wait, but you keep your eyes on him. Eventually, after more of his silence passes, it feels as if you’re intruding on something very personal, so you stand, quietly turn away, and focus your attention on a different spot; on different flowers.

What he’s doing over there is more cathartic and necessary than you can imagine.

Seungmin is always careful about how much he cuts and where he cuts from. Some blossoms seem brighter than others, and those are the ones he knows he can take. But before he does anything…

“how have you been?”

It’s exceptionally quiet, and his voice, so soft and light, carries in the small space. At first, you assume he’s speaking to you, because he’s speaking English. But he’s not. You can’t block out his words, so you walk as far from him as you can in an attempt to give him some privacy, but…he knows you’re here. He invited you inside knowing what he was going to do.

“Okay, I guess…sometimes it’s tough to tell from the inside”

Silence. He waits a few moments before speaking again…

“I am, I promise”

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　　

“I know, I’m not alone this time, isn’t that strange? It feels so strange”

⋆ . 　　˚　　　　*　　　

“Yes, it’s a good thing, I know”

　✦　˚ 　˖✶

“I’m trying really hard, I promise”

The silence is much longer this time. You think he might be finished, but he speaks one more time…

“Saranghaeyo…I love you, too”

You finally turn and look at him through a cluster of forget-me-nots, and he’s bowing so low you can hardly see him. The sound of the shears opening and closing finally comes, and you see him very carefully trimming what he needs. Two bundles. He takes both to the workspace, ties them with string, and wraps them gently in dark brown paper. The amount of care he takes is impressive, and he doesn’t rush through it. You take the opportunity to move closer to the blooms of heliotrope, but not too close. Just enough to admire them. They look like they just saw a warm, summer day, not the cold, icy morning you woke to. You almost forget it’s December as you stare at them.

“I’m ready, if you are.” His voice, still gentle, makes you jump.

“Yes, I’m ready”

“Oh, hold on.” Seungmin walks to the corner where you hid, looks around for something, and after a few minutes of him moving things around, digging, pulling, and digging again, he returns with dirt-covered hands and a small pot filled with the little blue flowers. “We’ll take these, too.”

He hands it over, and you hold it close as you start toward the cold again. The rain begins to fall as you carefully make your way back to the car, but it’s just a fine mist this time, no more ice. The bundles of heliotrope are placed in the backseat, but you hold tight to your flowers. Seungmin never implied they were yours, but you know they are. The forget-me-nots are for you.

The closer you get to Seoul, the more withdrawn you feel him becoming. There was some conversation this time, very minimal, and very light, but you said nothing of Uljin, or the greenhouse, or the conversation he had with the flowers. It slowly dwindled until it became a painful silence; no music, not even a contemplative sigh from him. You held your flowers and stared out of your window until the countryside slowly turned to small town, to city, to busy highways, and finally…home. Home?

“I’ll be gone for a few hours”

He tended to his flowers first. One bundle in the vase, the other tied and hung on the side of the window nearest the kitchen.

“Gone? You’re leaving?”

“Haven’t we seen enough of each other over the last two days?”

“Uhm…” Yeah, you guess so. “Sure.”

“I have to get rid of that body, and the carpet. It might take a while.”

The body. You completely forgot about two nights ago. How could you forget about watching him kill someone right in front of you? Luckily, Seungmin didn’t. He may have kept it at the front of his mind this entire time.

A quick change of clothes, and he’s gone without another word or glance in your direction.

The last two days and the night before was more than you expected from him—but enough? How could it possibly be enough? Whoever you were with today in the greenhouse, and in bed with yesterday morning; there’s so much of him you haven’t seen yet. You’ve barely met him. This was nowhere near enough.

So you shower and sort your things from your two shopping trips in an attempt to keep your mind occupied. But where to put them? Not in his drawer, because you need permission for that, and not in his neat, organized (full) closet. Eventually, you decide on folding and setting most of it on the chest near his bookshelves. The vase of flowers sit brand new and bright and fragrant exactly where the previous ones did, and now you have a chance to really look at them; you touch the delicate little petals and lean forward to take in more of the scent, and you wonder what exactly all of this means to him, because it’s something very special. Some of it you think you can figure out on your own, but you know there’s much more.

The flowers send your thoughts back to the music box. Your fingers itch to touch it again—to pick it up and turn the key, so you do. Seungmin isn’t here, and he might not be back for hours, and maybe he wouldn’t mind you looking at everything more closely. He didn’t seem to mind the first time. You pick it up and examine it in the low light. On top, there's a design burned and stained into the wood: a cloud-covered full moon shining down on a leaping rabbit. You turn the key three times, and hold it as it plays a sweet, sad melody that you don’t recognize. Inside you see the necklace, the one that looks almost exactly like yours, a silver bracelet, and a ring that could only be a wedding band. There’s a small piece of worn paper tucked into the corner, folded into the shape of a butterfly, and you leave that alone. You can see little bits of Hangul written on it, so clearly, it’s some sort of note. Even if you could read it…well, you could always use your phone and translate it—no, it’s none of your business.

The drawer could be your business, though. You’ve already seen it, and you can’t imagine it’s much different now than it was that night, but just thinking about it gets your heart racing.

You click his lamp on first, and look at everything sitting on the table. These are things you haven’t done yet, and there are so many little details about him still to learn. His glasses sit in their open case; a pair of thick black-rimmed ones, not the ones you’ve seen him in. His other ones, the ones that suited him so well, were round metal frames, and they’re not here. His silver Chanel necklace is here, and two prescription bottles that you never noticed before. KIM SEUNGMIN is written on the side of both—lorazepam (the little white pill he offered during your panic attack) and haloperidol. The haloperidol doesn’t look like it’s been touched, but the other is nearly empty. So, he has been diagnosed with something, and medicated for it, he just hasn’t followed through with his treatment. Maybe he’s tried, and it didn’t work—or it didn’t work the way he wanted it to. Finally, the drawer. It’s a little messier than you remember, but not bad. He probably hasn’t touched it since he killed two nights ago because the knife isn’t back in its spot. The sheath is there, and the cuffs, the gag. You carefully pick up one of the syringes and examine it, turn it so you can see the liquid inside move around like a tiny lava lamp. Still three of them. Further back, you feel something else. Something small. It’s an earring, just a tiny gold cuff, and it looks familiar. You reach and touch the top of your left ear, and you realize it’s yours. It must have fallen off while you slept, and he found it, and threw it in his drawer…but why didn’t he just return it?

Just as you put it back and turn off the lamp, you hear the click of the lock. You’d like to stay up and greet him, but if he’s still in the mood he was when he left, it might not be worth it. Instead, you climb under the covers and turn off the lamp on your side. He doesn’t come in right away. You can hear him go straight to the shower, and you stay awake and listen the whole twenty minutes he spends in there. Next, you hear him in the kitchen, and the thought makes your stomach growl. You haven’t eaten since midway through the ride home earlier, and that’s hardly worth mentioning. Maybe you should get up and see him, eat with him, if that’s what he’s doing. But you can’t move. You look at your phone: 9 pm. It’s not late at all, but the dark and the cold makes it feel so much later.

As soon as you smell coffee brewing, you decide to get up and check on him.

Seungmin is sitting in the kitchen, elbows on the counter, head down, face completely hidden in his hands. You can’t actually go out there and face him—no, you’re going to be a coward, because the possibility of his anger, no matter how small, is already making you tear up. But his little movements, the shake of his shoulders, make you think that’s what he’s already doing. You push the door up and slink back to bed and under the covers, and this time you somehow fall asleep.

/ / /

The cold air and smell of cigarette smoke wake you, hardly half an hour later, and as soon as you open your eyes, Seungmin slides the balcony door closed. You briefly shut them again when he walks up your side of the bed, and heads to his bookshelf. He looks at the flowers but does nothing else, and because he turned his lamp back on, you can see his face, and you can tell he was crying. He lifts his arm and wipes his cheeks with the sleeve of his sweatshirt, so you have to assume he just managed to stop while he smoked.

He stretches his neck, pulls his sweatshirt off, and heads for his side of the bed. You feel the blankets shift, and the movement as he sits and slides himself underneath. Then you hear the rattle of a pill bottle…the full one, but you don’t hear him remove the lid. He shakes it again, as if he’s looking at it and thinking, but places it back on the table, unopened. You’re relieved when he finally settles onto his pillow. You can relax again, maybe even turn and face him in your pretend sleep, but you don’t get a chance; Seungmin moves closer, and closer. You try not to jump when his hand slides hesitantly up your arm, over your shoulder, and then back down. He moves once more, until his chest can press against your back.

You’re positive he can feel your racing heart, your erratic breathing. His steady breath is traveling down your neck, under the collar of his tshirt you’re still wearing. Should you say something, let him know you’re awake and here with him? It’s possible the thought of you sleeping while he does this makes it easier, and you don’t want to ruin that, so you wait. His hand is on you again, but the touch is still hesitant and stuttery. Seungmin is thinking about his next move. He’s unsure.

After a few more moments, it slides between your arm and your waist, wraps around your stomach, and gently squeezes. He’s pulling you tight against him, finally, all of him. His forehead rests against the nape of your neck; his hips, his thighs, all curve and surround you. Skin on skin, warm under the blankets. You wait until you feel him relax, then set your hand over his…

“Oh, did I wake you?”

“No, you didn’t.” You feel him pull his hand back, but you hold tight and lace your fingers with his. “You didn’t.”

“How long have you been up?”

“Not long, I heard you coming in from the balcony.” Seungmin isn’t as relaxed now. You can feel his body tense, and his breathing change. “I felt you climb into bed.”

He pulls away again, and this time, he escapes your grasp. Seungmin pushes himself back, and when you turn to look, he’s already facing away, readjusting himself back into his spot.

“Seungmin?” Does he think you saw him crying? He must, and he’s right. Should you tell him he’s allowed to do that? “Can I come over there?” You whisper. “Please.”

“If you want to”

“I do,” you crawl to him and get back under the blankets, but instead of wrapping an arm around his waist, you grab his hip and pull until he’s flat on his back. “If…you want me to,” you really hope your smile will spread to him, but he just looks exhausted. His eyes are red and swollen, and his face is pale.

“Say it again,” he mumbles.

“Say what?"

Seungmin lets you push the hair away from his forehead and out of his eyes. “My name."

“Your name?”

He nods and closes his eyes, so your gaze drops to his lips—you haven’t kissed them in a long time, and now seems like the perfect opportunity. “Seungmin.”

“Mm, I like the way it sounds when you say it”

“Have I been saying it okay? Is my accent messing it up?”

“No…it’s perfect”

You take a chance while his eyes are still closed, first at the corner of mouth, and then a little closer. He doesn’t move, so you press your lips firmly against his. He returns it, and his breath deepens. You think he might stop at any moment, so you enjoy it—the way he tastes, the coffee and the leftover minty sweetness of his cigarette. He stays, though. He touches you. Seungmin’s hand moves to your waist and pulls you closer, and you think, maybe the night will be okay now…but it doesn’t last very long. It’s gone, and he turns his head until you stop kissing. Your lips land on his neck, and they stay there.

“Seungmin” you say again, whispering it slowly and carefully.

“I haven't been feeling very good”

“You haven't? What is it?”

He sniffles, and moves his legs against yours under the blankets. Seungmin is warm, but not fever-warm, and something tells you he doesn’t mean physically. Maybe he’ll open up this door, though. Telling you he isn’t feeling well is already a lock unlocked.

But he doesn’t say another word. What he does do is let you touch—he relaxes again as your palm slides over his chest, down his stomach. You press your lips to his collarbone and make a path across his shoulder. “Tell me what’s hurting.”

“Everything”

“Everything?”

“Almost everything”

"Your body?"

He slowly shakes his head.

"Something up here?"

Seungmin's eyes dart toward you as your fingers run through his hair. He thinks for a long moment before answering. "A little."

"Alright, one more...here?"

His hand closes over yours on his chest, but he doesn't give you a yes or no answer. If it's a yes, which you suspect it is, he's probably not going to give you anything else. You leave it at that.

“Tell me what feels okay, maybe it’ll help a little,” you follow the path you made, returning to his collarbone, and working your way up his neck. This time he’s more receptive to it, and his cheek turns to press against yours. “What feels good?”

Seungmin sets his hand on the small of your back and brings you closer. “Good?”

“Mhm…and how can I make it even better? Let me make you feel good.”

“Bite”

“Bite?”

“Right there, please”

You don’t bite yet, but you kiss him again, lick, and graze your teeth across his skin. “Right here?”

The sound he makes is small, and desperate, like he’s afraid you might not do it. “Please.”

Very cautiously, you suck the skin again, and bite until he makes another sound. It feels like a lot of pressure, but it’s not enough for him. You try again.

“Yeah…like that,” he moans, and squirms beneath you, “don’t be shy.”

The spot you sunk your teeth into starts to turn red, and the marks are there…but you didn’t break the skin. You kiss it, and then kiss a new spot just below it and nibble. When he squirms again, you bite down hard, and this time he sounds satisfied. He grabs your hand and guides it under his waistband, and you bite again when your fingers move over his head, down the length of his cock. You stroke him, and watch him watch you work.

“Don’t stop,” he brings you down to his chest, and when your tongue finds his nipple, “harder please”…you bite, and his hips push into your touch. “Fuck.”

You don’t hold back this time, and you feel the skin break between your teeth. The coppery taste of blood hits your tongue when you lick the spot, and Seungmin makes a sound like he’s never made for you before, and he moans your name…

“Seungmin”

“Mmm…yeah?” He sighs and grips your arm as you stroke, “yeah?” and he smiles as his head hits the pillow. Blood starts to bead from the mark on his chest, and it slowly drips down toward his stomach.

You watch it, then look at him, and the urge to clean it off is too strong to ignore. This is new for you. Is it new for him? Before you get the chance to try, he sits up. “Oh, you gonna bite me?”

Seungmin smiles, shakes his head, “no,” and gets himself out of his shorts, “no, sit back…” he touches you, and slides his hands up your outer thighs, but instead of undressing, they come back down, caressing, squeezing, as if he’s taking a moment to admire you. It gives you a knot in your stomach, the thought of it, and the look on his face. The next time they move up, he grabs your underwear and pulls.

The knot grows; the nervous feeling in your stomach won’t go away, and you don’t know why, because you’ve been here already. You’ve been with him, no panic attack. Again, he touches—very softly runs his fingertips over the top of your thigh and to your knee.

“Give me your arms, hold onto me.” He throws more pillows behind you, and rearranges them while he holds you against him. It feels so sweet and so personal, how he’s tending to the spot where he wants you. “Comfortable?”

“Oh…yeah,” you grip the back of his neck, and the other hand digs into his side. “This is nice.”

“Mm, your nails are sharp”

“Are they? Sorry,” you adjust your hold on him, but he shakes his head as you do.

“No…do your worst. Or your best, I guess.”

The thin line of blood running down his chest is beginning to dry, and the marks you made all over him are darkening. He wants more, though, and you can do that. You gently rake your fingers up his back…just enough to tickle, and then back down with a little more pressure. At the same time, his fingers tease you, ghosting up and down so perfectly and carefully.

You spread your legs in anticipation of more. “Hey,” you whisper. His eyes are wide open, but focused elsewhere, just away from you. He’s thinking hard, or spacing out…you can’t tell. “Look at me.”

A little smile tugs at his lips when he looks up, “hm?” And his eyes are big and shining inches from yours, ready to swallow you up. He pushes his hair away from his forehead and comes in for a kiss, and you’re not prepared. At all. It’s just like the elevator kiss—so deep and eager like he can’t get close enough. You fall back on your spot and pull him with you, and he keeps going, slips his tongue in, and moans softly into your mouth. You scratch across his back, not enough to mark, and he does it again.

Each time, you give him more. A little more pressure, a little slower.

He slides in, and with each push, hits deeper and stretches more. His lips keep kissing, though, like he’s trying to distract from the pain he might be causing as he pushes every inch into you. But with every twinge of pain, you dig deeper, pull so slowly, and feel your nails get close to breaking skin.

When you open your eyes to check, his upper back is so much more red and angry than you anticipated.

“Don’t stop,” he whines as he finally pulls away from the kiss.

“It looks so sore…Seungmin, I dunno if I can…” from here you see old scratches mixed in with the new ones, much older, scarred over—they look like more than scratches. How did you never notice them before? You’ve never seen him like this, in this light.

“You can,” he pants, “please.”

The skin is hot when you touch it, and you wince just thinking about how it must feel, but Seungmin doesn’t make a sound when you graze over it. He does, however, let you know that he likes it when you push your nails in again. One more swipe and you see blood.

You stop, and he doesn’t ask you to do it again—instead, he pushes in fully and stays there, kisses and sucks at your neck, nibbles a little, but nothing like what you did to him.

“Good,” he sighs and pushes your thighs upward, and he starts to move in and out, slow at first, but he can’t help himself. His breath catches as he speeds up, and loses himself in the moment, but still, he stays in your neck, moaning against your skin, and breathing down your back…into your ear where he whispers a fuck…fuck, as if he could come any second.

“Slow,” you knead your fingers into his hip, hold him off a little bit, “slow down, relax.”

Seungmin listens and does his best, but it feels too good.

“We have all night...all night”

But this is what he needs. He wants it now. This will make him feel better. All of this. The sting of his back, the gentle throb from each little bite mark, you squeezing so tight around him.

You place a hand on his shoulder. “I’m not going anywhere…Seungmin?” Then move it to the nape of his neck, being careful not to touch the scratches.

This time, he slows much more, almost stops. You worry for a moment and wonder if the words didn’t fall quite right on his ears, but you meant want you said—you’re not leaving.

“I do want you…all night,” Seungmin smiles, and he lets out a laugh tinged with nerves, as if he’s embarrassed about admitting exactly what he wants, or what he needs.

“Good. Did this…” you touch the spot on his chest, and smear the almost dried blood. Then you touch another. “Did this help?”

“A little”

“Sit up,” you hook your arm around his neck as he rises, and now you can slide onto his lap. “Hold onto me.”

Seungmin holds you where you are, hands on your hips, eyes on the space between you. You lift yourself, and you don’t have to tell him what to do—you’re more than ready for him again, and his cock slides in smoothly as you come down.

“Oh, that’s good.” Seungmin is smiling again, and his satisfied laugh is much less anxious. He grabs the back of your shirt and pulls so he can see everything as you move up and down on him…”neomu johda” he mumbles under his breath, “nice and slow,” lifts your shirt over your head, and both arms wrap around you.

“Much better, yeah?”

His presses his cheek against your chest, and you can feel his nod.

“I don’t mind working for it”

Seungmin laughs again, and turns his face to kiss wherever he can get to; your shoulders, your throat, down your chest to the soft skin of your breast. He’s surprisingly gentle when he gets there, and even more so when he runs his tongue around your nipple. He stares up at you, eyes wide and shining, as if he’s waiting for something…your reaction, your approval. It’s not a side of him you’ve seen—you didn’t think he even had a side like this.

You run the pad of your thumb just under his eye, where a faint scar shines in the light, and he smiles again. His face disappears against you, so all you see is the top of his peachy-colored head. Seungmin squeezes you close before letting go, and he falls back to rest on his palms.

“Cute”

His eyes open even wider, “what?” And he very slowly lowers himself as you push him flat on his back. “Me?”

“Maybe”

“Maybe?”

“You know what would be really cute?” You ask.

“What’s that?”

“You…coming for me”

Seungmin smirks when you laugh, and slowly rolls his hips, “so I can come now?” Your laugh turns to a moan. He does it again, and takes your hands in his. “How’s that feel?” He asks, already knowing the answer.

“Don’t stop”

He doesn’t. Seungmin rolls his hips, sliding in and out so smoothly, but the stretch, the pain—this pain feels so good, just like his pain, your bites and your scratches. And the pressure as you finally get all of him in, when your body finally slams into his hips, Seungmin moves faster and faster, pulling you down close enough to kiss as he fucks you. He bites softly at your lip, slides his tongue against yours. The kiss throws you over the edge, and your orgasm hits so fast, and so hard, you scream right down his throat. His cum runs warm out of you as he slows, and stops, but you keep kissing, and Seungmin returns it.

“Okay,” you don’t want to, but you pull away to breathe, and Seungmin pulls you back for one more, “okay.” You lay down on him and try to catch your breath, listen as he catches his, and close your eyes to the feel of his chest rising and falling. One hand slides across your shoulders, and the other sets at his side, fingers fidgeting and picking at the blanket, and everything feels good, and normal.

The rumble in his chest as he groans and sighs brings you back a little, but you’re not ready to be back quite yet. It’s too nice, laying here on his chest, listening to the wild beat of his heart. But you give in, and look up at him—Seungmin is just as relaxed, maybe more. You slowly lift yourself off of him, and pull at the blankets, but you’re the wrong way around, and covering up isn’t easy.

“Seungmin?”

His eyes open slowly, and then immediately shut again.

“Turn over, so I can look at your back.” He listens, but this time, he winces in pain when the skin moves and stretches. “Don’t move, I’ll be right back.”

Before you get up, you have to give your legs a stretch, and before you can walk, you stand for a moment and adjust. As soon as your shirt is back over your head, you carefully head to the bathroom, trying not to trip in the dark. The hand towels are in the very last drawer you check, but the water comes out ice cold, just like you need it.

You lost yourself with him. Pushing him on his back was stupid, and a few of the scratches broke open even more.

“How does it feel?” You ask, and very slowly drape the cold towel across his shoulders. He winches again, but it’s quickly followed by a sigh of relief. “It hurts now that the moment is over, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, but it’s not as bad as it looks. I promise.”

Even if you do believe him, you can still see the pink of his blood coming through the opposite side of the thin towel. It spreads out and connects and starts to look like angel wings…butterfly wings. You think of the old note in his music box.

“Are there lots of butterflies in the greenhouse in spring?”

“Hm?” Seungmin lifts his head and tries to look at you, but you’re too far back. “Butterflies?”

“Yeah,” maybe you shouldn’t be mentioning the greenhouse right now, or bringing the trip back to his mind, but…he was happy for it. “The heliotrope and the asters, butterflies love them.”

“Yeah, you’re right…that’s why—“ he stops himself and lays his head back down on the bed, “that’s why they’re in there. Why do you ask?”

“Uhm, no reason…it just came to mind”

“We’ll see in a few months, I guess”

In a few months. In the future. That’s a nice thought. Will you both still be here? You look down at him and wonder as you gently lift the towel to inspect. “Do you have any antibiotic ointment?”

“You don’t have to do all that”

“Bathroom?”

Seungmin nods.

/ / /

He stares at you from his spot on the bed, right side up this time. Seungmin is on his stomach still, with one pillow fluffed up under his head and chest. You can’t tell for sure, but he might be a little annoyed at you for covering him in cream and making him stay still.

“Are you going to sleep?” He asks in a small voice. “Are you tired?”

“No, I’m not anymore…but you look tired”

“I’m always tired,” he turns away and pushes his face into the pillow, “or I always look tired.”

“No, you don’t. Just very pensive, and sad, and handsome.”

“Handsome? You said I was cute.” His face is still mostly hidden, but you can see one eye peeking at you.

“Yeah, you’re cute when you think really hard, or when you’re worried”

“So, all the time?”

“All the time”

The quiet that falls over the room is nice—it’s not awkward, or filled with questions. There’s no tension. Seungmin just lies there, eyes closed, comfortable and content, and he doesn’t move when you lay down next to him. You could fall asleep if you allowed yourself, but you could also lay here and look at him for a little while longer. All night. You pull the blankets higher, grab a second pillow, and something familiar catches your eye. The little yellow puppy rolls and falls between the bed frame and the wall, but you catch him just before he disappears. “Do you walk around on your own?” His big black eyes stare silently, and they remind you of someone.

“Do I look sad all the time?”

There they are…they open so wide, and he seems to focus on a spot somewhere behind you—somewhere in the dark where the light doesn’t reach.

“No, you don’t look sad right now”

Seungmin reaches out and takes his friend by the paw, squeezes it. Now he looks sad, as if something suddenly started weighing on his mind. You glance to the table where his pills sit, and wonder, stupidly, if you should ask about them—ask very gently if he’s given them a chance. Not tonight, though. “Does he have a name?”

“Hm? Oh…him, yeah he does. His name is Daengmo.” Seungmin smiles as he says it, but it matches the rest of him; sad. “Daengmo,” he whispers.

“Does it mean anything?”

“Yes, daengdaengie is for puppy, mo is…uhm,” he stops and thinks. Or hesitates. “Mo, for a nickname I had when I was little.”

“Mo? Your nickname was Mo?”

“Mo, or Seungmo. My mom called me that when I didn’t listen…when I misbehaved.”

“Maybe I should be calling you Mo”

The sad look fades a little, “because I’m bad?” Seungmin lifts himself up on his elbows and turns on his side.

“You are, objectively, sometimes. But…” Seungmin does bad things, and you’ve witnessed some of it. He’s lied, and he’s manipulated. He might still be lying, for all you know. But he’s also told you truths. You’re choosing to trust him right now, just like you’ve been since he brought you home, because he has shown you a surprising amount of kindness even though it was clearly difficult for him. “No, I don’t think you’re bad," ...because you think you might be in love with him.

“I’m glad you think that. I am, though. I’m a nightmare."

191 notes · View notes

whatsk-poppinhomies · 1 year ago

Text

Pairing : Yandere!Yang Jeongin x F!Reader TW : jeongin redemption sort of but at what cost? ; mention of readers s**c*d* attempt ; reader depression ; Jeongin doing his best ; it's still really angsty ; reader has very valid trust issues ; fluff ending though because Jeongin never gets any fluff ; Word Count : 3.1K Request : @slayhyunjin @neteyamsmate4life and the one anon who was in my inbox... Part 2 for Pins and Needles!! A/N : THIS ONE TOOK A TURN FOR THE BETTER! YAYYYY!!!

“Good morning, beautiful…” Jeongin whispered, his words slightly slurred by his yawn as he stretched his arms above his head. “You’re making breakfast?” He questioned, walking over to where you stood at the stove, trying not to pay too much attention to the way you flinched away from him, your movements went from fluid to almost robotic. “Did you sleep well?”

“Do you care?” You mumbled back, taking a shaky breath as you flipped the omelet in the pan. Jeongin couldn’t help but appreciate just how perfectly you did it too, there was no residue on the side, none had splattered over the edge, you had gotten it to land right in the center. “Please don’t pretend just because you found me like that. It’s the first time and the last time I’d let you see me that way.”

“I hope it was the first and the last time you’d try to do something like that in general.” He snipped, but immediately clenched his teeth. You were annoyed with him, and reflecting on the way he had been made it very clear that he deserved everything you might want to do or say to him. “I do care though… I want you to sleep well… A good sleep is important for your health.”

You rolled your eyes, grabbing a plate from the cabinet and sliding the omelet to the center before placing the bacon on the side. “You can eat now.” You said flatly, setting the plate down at his spot and then grabbing his drink. “I’m gonna take a shower and-”

“D-Don’t… Don’t lock the door…” He blurted out as his eyes widened, his fork inches brom his mouth but the food falling off of it and back onto the plate. “Please… Just in case you need me for anything… I can come in and help you.” He rambled, and your eyes shut as you shook your head.

“God, would you just stop.” You sounded so tired when you said it, your hands slipping into the pockets of the hoodie you were wearing. When your eyes opened once more, you were glaring at him and it pissed him off to be honest. He was trying his best and you were just pushing him aside. How was he supposed to be better for you when everything he did seemed to piss you off?

“Stop what? What am I supposed to do? I’m trying to change and that’s not good enough for you! So tell me! What do you want!?” He shouted, and he saw you shiver, it was evident that him raising his voice still scared you, and while it used to be amusing to him, now it was just upsetting. How could he have ever found that to be amusing in the first place? He never wanted to hurt you, but it just became habitual almost. That in itself was sickening.

“I don’t know!” You shouted back, but it was like you immediately backed down, inching back until you were standing against the fridge, like you were trying to disappear inside of it. “I’m scared of you…” The whispered confession had his heart sinking and he wanted nothing more than to run over to you and hold you, to tell you that you didn’t have to be scared anymore, but he knew that wouldn’t make anything better, not at all. “I’m scared of you being nice to me because I never know when you’ll go back to being that way… At least when you were treating me like garbage I was prepared for it daily… Now I just… I don’t know… And that’s the scariest part. So just… Just stop…”

Seeing you in the bathtub… Seeing you trying to leave him like that… It had been a rude awakening, but one that he very clearly needed. Now he was left with the pieces of you that he had broken, and he didn’t know how to handle you, he didn’t know where to even begin in putting you back together. Being gentle wasn’t working, but it made sense… The pieces were shattered almost beyond recognition, every time he thought he was getting somewhere, you’d fall apart all over again… Or maybe the pieces had never fit in the first place and it was all wishful thinking on his part.

Now he had to watch you walk away, closing the bedroom door behind you, and he heard the lock click, and while he had the key to get in, he wanted to believe that you were at least past the point of wanting to hurt yourself. Sometimes he felt selfish… He knew he was selfish… You wanted to leave him, he had put you through enough… He should have let you go that night… But he couldn’t. He just couldn’t. Somewhere beyond the sick twisted part of him that found fun in making you cry, he did love you, and now that twisted part of him was long gone and all he could feel was love for you, and you weren’t ready to give it back… And maybe you’d never be ready.

“Are you sleeping already, beautiful?” He whispered when he walked into the bedroom after work. He was exhausted, but the entire day he thought of nothing more than coming home to you. There was no dinner made, the house was clean, but it was also still… Which in itself scared the hell out of him and had him rushing to the bedroom to check on you. God, he’d never get that image out of his mind, it even replayed often when he was working, enough to text you every hour, and even if you didn’t respond, you’d read the message which let him know that you were okay.

The room was dark aside from the faint glow of the moon that painted the carpeted floors a pristine white, and he thought that maybe, maybe he’d finally get to sleep beside you for the first time since everything happened. Usually you’d get up as soon as he came in and you’d move to the couch, and he wanted to argue, he wanted to tell you to come back, but again, he was trying to be better, and he respected the fact that you needed space. What might be easy for him to do was obviously not at all easy for you.

He pulled on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, climbing under the blankets and moving as close to you as he possibly could without waking you up. Your hair still smelled of the shampoo and conditioner that you used earlier in the day when you took your shower, and that in itself was comforting. There was a warmth that radiated off of you, one that he had never taken the opportunity to fully appreciate before, but it made him feel fuzzy, it made him feel safe… He wanted to give you those same feelings…

“I’ll move to the couch now…” You murmured tiredly, and he wondered if maybe you had just been laying there silently waiting for him to come home or if you had actually been sleeping and he had just woken you up. You started moving and he reached out to grab your hand, and it was like grabbing a statue the way you froze, he could hear you inhale sharply, and he wondered what was going through your mind right now, what you thought he’d do.

“Please don’t… Can you just sleep in here tonight? I’ll even put pillows between us… I just want you next to me…” His hold wasn’t tight at all, and his thumbs brushed lightly over your wrist, trying to show you that he could be gentle, he could be sweet. He could be all the things you had wanted him to be before… He was changing for you… He wanted you to see that.

“Do I have a choice?” You mumbled, and while he wanted to say no, he wanted to tell you that you had to lay beside him, he knew that would only be setting him back. He hummed softly, and while it wasn’t truly an answer, his actions were enough, letting go of your arm and dropping his hand back down on the mattress. “I can respect… I appreciate the fact that you’re not… hitting me… or yelling at me… Or belittling me anymore… Thank you…” You sighed heavily through your nose and he could hear you rubbing your hands nervously against your lap. You were still scared of him. “I’m just not ready… It’s a lot for me… But I’m trying too… I hope you know that…”

You were trying… And while he couldn’t really tell at first, the fact that you sat there long enough to tell him this, to explain to him why you couldn’t lay beside him… He could tell that you were doing your best. He respected that, and he wasn’t going to force you to do something that scared you or made you uncomfortable, so he relented. “I do… I know…” He whispered, pushing himself up so he was sitting on the bed, his body fully turned towards you. “Is the couch comfortable? You can sleep in the bed and I can take the couch if you want…”

You let out a little laugh, and the sound was weird… You hadn’t laughed in so long, it was almost nostalgic, sending his mind back to a time when your giggles were heard almost daily when he was with you. It had been so long… It had him getting choked up. “Don’t worry… I’m used to it. I’ve been sleeping on the couch for months now.” Your attempt at reassurance was nothing more than another slap though when the lightbulb clicked and he realized just what you were saying.

All those times that he had woken up in the morning and the bed was empty, he thought it was just because you had woken up before him to make breakfast… But you had somehow managed to slip out in the middle of the night to be away from him and he hadn’t even noticed… You didn’t want to be around him at all. “Oh… Well… We can change that… I can sleep on the couch, really… It’s no big deal…”

The conversation was just going in a circle at this point, and while most people would find it annoying, the constant back and forth… This was the most you had talked to him in the two months since the incident. He hadn’t realized how much he missed your voice until now. “It’s fine, Jeongin…” You said his name… It sounded so wonderful coming from your mouth, he wanted to hear it over and over again. “Get some sleep… Goodnight.” Had it been too much contact for you? You were rushing out of the room now, and while he wanted nothing more than the conversation to keep going, he didn’t want to push you, so he watched you walk out the door, your body silhouetted by the hall light until it disappeared once the door had shut again. He was alone… And while he had been alone every single night before… Now he knew about it and it hurt, the darkness was eating away at him, and for some reason he was scared, although he wasn’t sure what of.

“I had a nightmare last night, beautiful.” Jeongin said, hearing your feet pad across the floor and then stop at the entrance to the kitchen. “Do you want to hear about it?” He turned around to see your very confused face. He had never made breakfast before, and while he was pretty damn sure he was burning everything, he wanted to do more, show you that things would be better and only get better from here on out.

“S-Sure…” You stammered, walking over to the stove and eyeing the food in the pot with an ever more confused gaze. “Do you want me to take over and you can tell me while you sit and have your coffee?” You asked, noticing that he had already started to brew the drink, but he shook his head, motioning for you to sit down. “O-Okay…”

“It was so scary… I woke up and I felt like it was real for a second…” He monologued, and you hummed softly, letting him know that you were listening to him. “You left me… And I couldn’t find you… I was so scared. And then I opened the bathroom door and-”

“Ah…” You cut him off, drumming your hands on the table. “I know where you’re going with this… I’m not gonna do it again, if that makes you feel any better.” And it did, it made him feel a lot better, because for the first time since it had happened, you sounded honest when you told him it wouldn’t happen again. “Luckily, I don’t have dreams or nightmares anymore.”

“Oh? Why not?” He mused, turning around to face you, leaning against the counter. He was genuinely interested in everything about you, and this was new considering when you had first got together you’d tell him every morning about the dreams you had the night before. When did things change?

“Well my entire life up until now has been a nightmare in itself so… I guess my subconscious mind thought I deserved a little bit of peace at some point.” Oh… That made sense… It didn’t make him feel any better, but it made a lot of sense. He quickly turned back towards the stove, his head hung low as he continued frying the egg in the pan, trying his best to make an omelet as good as yours was yesterday just for you.

“I’m sorry… I really am…” He whispered, focusing on the egg now, trying to remember exactly how you flipped it to make it look so good. “I love you… And I’m never going to forgive myself for what I put you through. I was an awful boyfriend, just… An awful person in general and I know that I don’t… I don’t deserve to be standing in the same room as you right now… And I’m sorry… I’m just really sorry and this egg is going to be shit… And I’m sorry about that too… I suck… At this and everything and…”

“Innie…” You cooed the nickname, and his heart seemed to freeze and simultaneously speed up at the same time. Hearing his name had been one thing, but hearing you call him that… It was like hearing heaven's bells ringing in his ears. “You’re gonna fuck up the omelet… A few times at least… But it happens, and it’s still gonna be delicious and I’ll eat it.” That wasn’t where he thought the conversation was going… But in a way, it made him feel a lot better. “You never apologized before… Not genuinely…” He had though… He knows he apologized… Had it been genuine? Maybe not… Maybe the initial apology had just been him ranting out of fear… He wasn’t sure. “It’s okay now… You know? I’m okay now…” What did that mean? What were you saying? He didn’t want to get his hopes up that things would be normal… And now he understood what you meant that night, when you practically ran away from him… Sometimes hearing someone be sweet after so long was scarier than the usual… He didn’t know what was coming next. “I thought a lot last night… about everything… And I… I think it’s okay now… For me… For you… For us…”

“Us?” What were you saying… God you were so vague, he just needed to know, he needed to be 100% sure that he wasn’t being too hopeful. Was this your way of saying that you wanted to leave? Were you going to leave him? He had gotten better… But he still wouldn’t let that happen… He needed you there… He did. “Wh-What are you… What do you mean? You’re scaring me right now, beautiful…”

It was like he couldn’t get his breathing under control, just the thought of you leaving him had him tearing up, a knot forming in his throat that he couldn’t get rid of. “Come here…” You whispered, and he slowly took those few steps towards you, pausing a couple inches away just in case you didn’t want him too close to you, but then you stood up, your hands folded in front of your lap as you pursed your lips. You looked just as shy as you did after your second date when he had kissed you for the first time, what he wouldn’t do to live that moment again. “Do you think that.. When you’re done making the omelet… We can maybe… I don’t know… Cuddle or something?”

Cuddle… You wanted to cuddle? He felt like a complete idiot that it took so long for the question to fully click, but once it did, he was reaching back to turn off the stove, scared to take his eyes off of you, worried that you’d change your mind, but once that fire was out underneath the pan he was scooping you up in his arms and rushing towards the couch, your laughter like music to his ears as you buried your face in his neck. “You scared the hell out of me, you know that!?” He whined as he fell back on the couch, bringing you down with him onto his lap. “I almost cried!”

“You did cry!” You teased, sitting back and looking at him, and there was a twinkle in your eyes that was akin to all the stars in the sky at night, so beautiful, and he couldn’t help but reach his hand up, brushing his fingers along your cheeks. How could he have ever hurt you? Did he even deserve this chance? You leaned in to kiss him, the feeling setting off fireworks in his chest, and he felt like he couldn’t breathe, but it felt good… He liked that feeling… “You’re thinking too much…”

“Do that again… please… Just so I can be sure…” He murmured, his fingers gently tangling in your hair as he pulled you closer, and you didn’t pull away, instead your lips collided with his once more and it was like a dream, the best dream, and if that’s all this way, he never wanted to wake up. “You love me… right?” He whispered when you pulled away, your own fingers catching the tears that had at some point begun to fall.

“I do… I love you, Innie… Always…”

360 notes · View notes

savvthedate · 14 days ago

Text

Yandere!hyunjin

• Yandere!hyunjin would definitely fall in love with you after seeing you in any type of store. Def takes a picture of you and starts searching you up online. He'd probably be the person to pay a public records website for your info

• before acting out on anything yandere!hyunjin would definitely find out what school you go to where you work etc just to follow you home after

• after about a couple of months of him stalking you things around your house would go missing. First it's just things like clothes, notebooks, pencils, you didn't think much of it until your laptop went missing

• when yandere!hyunjin feels comfortable enough hell start doing things like watching you sleep from under your bed or going to your refrigerator and drinking out of your milk jug (just so you can drink after him)

• It'll take a couple of months for yandere!hyunjin to kidnap you. But he won't kidnap you in your sleep, he got you walking home from school. He managed to take you into his car and when he got half way to his location he switched cars to avoid detection

• yandere!hyunjin would definitely buy a house just for you two.

• when you get to his house your put in the basement for a day or two. After that he'll take you out and bathe, feed, and cloth you (but you can't do any of this by yourself). After that he handcuffs you to the living room couches leg and he puts on some boring talk show. he's not even paying attention to the tv, he's thinking about you and life, he thinks about how soon you'll love him just as much, he thinks about coming home from work and seeing your beautiful face greet him the moment he walks in, he thinks about how you'll lead him to the table and sit him down, he thinks about you serving your 4 kids first before him, he thinks about how it was all worth it

• At night the stranger pulls you to your shared room, but you don't share a bed, not yet at least, he has you on a plan mattress on the floor next to him.

• if you have to get up in the middle of the night for the bathroom, he won't let you go yourself he has to take you

• If you don't try to escape or defy him, he'll get you anything you want or do anything as long as it's reasonable. You've been good and you want chicken? He gets it for you no questions asked, you want to go to the store? Sure but you and him can't be out long, he's still skeptical even though he moved you 3 cities over.

• however when you do misbehave, I definitely see his punishments either being like a solitary confinement type thing. By this I mean he puts you in white clothes, in a plain white room, and gives you plain white foods. Or he would also just throw you back in the basement.

• yandere!hyunjin doesn't care if it takes you a while to love him and he doesn't care if you ever do honestly, as long as he's in love he's happy

#skz #hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #yandere #yandere!hyunjin #yandere!skz #skz headcanons #skz hyunjin

31 notes · View notes

hyunjinsbelovedamericano · 1 year ago

Text

Don't leave

Jeongin x reader, jeongin is toxic and kind of a stalker 🙈, slight yandere jeongin, not proof read😬

Mention of yunjin(yes from Le Sserafim)

Angsty

-------------------------------------

-------------

It's been four months since you and jeongin broke up,you were the one who broke up with him. I mean he was toxic he would come back from 'work' with a bunch of lip stick stains on his face and neck. Did he really think that you were stupid? It was painfully obvious that he was cheating, when you asked him about it he would shrug it off and tell you you're being dramatic and that he would never cheat on you.

You left him there was no way you were gonna let him treat you like that, it's been four months since then and you were living your best life, going out almost every weekend, shopping regularly it couldn't get better! "I'm so glad you left him" your friend yunjin boasted as she bit into her chocolate drizzled donut, "Me too, I can't believe I let him drag me like that for so long" You agreed placing down the bags on the table knowing who she was referring too, "Whatever, he's in the past now"Yunjin said wiping the sugar off her hands. You simply just nodded to let her know you understood and agreed with her statment,you and yunjin talked for a while until it was time for her to leave, she went to your front door and waved goodbye before shutting the door.

Whilst you and yunjin were talking you packed the bags away to get it out of the way, you got ready for bed and turned of all the lights in the house,finally able to rest on your bed. As you were trying to fall asleep you had a weird feeling that someone was watching you, it felt like eyes we're starting right at you,this isn't the first time,ever since last month you've been feeling like this. You're just being dramatic, that's what you told yourself,that did make you at ease but it comforted you temporarily so you could fall asleep.

The next day came and it was a normal morning, nothing out of the blue, everything was a it should be. Even though you just went out yesterday, you decided to go out again. What's the harm? You just wanted some alone time. You put on your shoes and grabbed your keys and exited your apartment, once you closed the door you felt the same pair of eyes on you. What was going on? You tried to walk a bit further and the more you walked you realised that someone was following you, you heard footsteps following your every turn and movement and these footsteps weren't your own.To feel more safe you called your friend yunjin

"hey, what's u-"

"yunjin?" You said fear lacing your voice

"Yes, what's wrong you sound scared"

"I think someone is following me"

"Wha-why?"

"I hear the same footsteps" you said in a whisper not wanting whoever was following you to hear the conversation you are having.

"You don't think it's him, do you"

"No-no it can't be, he doesn't know were I live" you uttered knowing immediately who she was referring too.

"Okay listen to me go to the mall, you know the place we visited yesterday. there's always a lot of people there. Stay there and I'll pick you up okay?"

"Okay" you said your voice coming out in a whisper.

You ended the call hesitantly and speed walked to the mall, luckily it wasn't that far from your current location.As yunjin said there were loads of people there any kidnapping attempt would be unsuccessful, you sat on an empty bench and waited for yunjin too come pick you up, bouncing your leg and anxiously looking around,after a short while you spot familiar blonde hair in the crowd. Which caused you too stand up and run to it, your guess was right, it was yunjin.She could she the afraid look on your face causing her to look even more worried

"Do you wanna stay at my place until tonight? "

You nodded in response and clinged onto her arm,waiting to get inside her house already,yunjin walked you to her car and drove away to her house.Once inside yunjin's house you sat on her couch and spaced out until you heard her call out your name

"Are you doing better, you seem.. stressed"

"I just-i've also been feeling like someone has been watching me for the past month"

"MONTH?! Why didn't you tell me this"

You stayed quiet unable to give an answer yunjin sighed and put a hand on your shoulder.Youve been at yunjins house so long that it was starting to become dark outside

"Are you sure you can handle going back home you can stay the night of you want"yunjin offered

"No it's okay, ill be okay"

Yunjin agreed hesitantly and waved you goodbye and telling you to stay safe, you closed the door and began to walk to your house. Halfway through the journey to your house, the sky already became dark, tiny stars highlight it.Peoples lights were turning on and curtains were closing, meaning it was officially night time. You felt a little nervous knowing you were alone at night but you told yourself it'll be okay, keeping you calm, but all that calmness faded away once you heard those footsteps again. Those same footsteps.

This caused you to quicken your paste and walk a bit faster, not wanting whoever was behind you to catch you. The person copied your speed, walking just as fast as you are. They copied everything you were doing,you took notice of this and your heart rate began to speed up and thoughts raced through your head. One of them was "maybe I should call yunjin", you took out your phone and looked at the battery ,2%, your heart dropped seeing this, can you even make it through a phone call? You scrolled through your contacts until you found yunjin, tapping on her icon and calling her. " hello?"her voice from the other side of the phone was heard. "Yunjin I'm being followed again" you whispered,"please help".Yunjin got chills down her spine once hearing this,there was nothing she could do.Your location wasn't on so she couldn't even see where you are and you're probably way to far from her house for her to come and get you before anything happens. "Um, okay,uh"Yunjin struggled to find words as much as she struggled to find a solution. "Run. Just run as fast as can till you make it okay?"Yunjin spoke, this being the only solution she could find.Before you could say anything in response the call ended, your phone died. You cursed as you saw your phone power off, but put your phone back in your pocket and started running. You ran and ran and so did the person behind you they seemed to be running faster than you, scaring you even more. You ran until arms wrapped around you and cold metal sat against your neck.

"Scream and I'll slit your throat"

And everything went black

___________________________

Sorry for the late post, I've just been having no motivation lately

The last two lines were inspired from this fanfic I read from @linos-luna so credit to them!

#skz x y/n #skz #jeongin x reader #skz angst #stray kids x reader #yandere!skz #yandere jeongin #straykids angst #yang jeongin x reader #jeongin x y/n #jeongin x you #jeongin angst #stray kids x gender neutral reader #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids x y/n

145 notes · View notes

pinievsev · 2 years ago

Text

I've been thinking about this for so long ong.

#yang jeongin #yang jeongin x reader #i.n x reader #jeongin x reader #jeongin #stray kids #skz x reader #yandere #yandere yang jeongin #yandere!skz

11 notes · View notes

loomis-maxima · 9 months ago

Note

will you be planning on continuing Carpe Diem now that you've come back?

Of course! Carpe Diem will still be getting written even though I wont be as devoted to writing only k-pop fics~

#carpe diem fic #carpe diem skz #skz x reader #changbin x reader #yandere!skz #yandere!changbin #seo changbin x reader #3racha x reader

2 notes · View notes

fics-lovebot · 1 year ago

Text

I love angsty fics, I really do.

But not "my dog died" or "I feel insecure" kinda angst. I'm talking about the cheating, the break up, the suffering, the tears, the begging, the pining, the stalking, the obsession UGHHHH, love me a fic where he fucked up and now has to do the most to get her back, it gives me a serotonin boost

3K notes · View notes

minminbunny · 2 months ago

Text

Stalker X Stalker AU - Pervert! Bang Chan/Psycho Gender Neutral! Reader

*smut part - AFAB/AMAB

💕Drabble Masterlist

❤️Ultimate Masterlist

"Fuck, you smell so good," Chan groaned, burying his face into your dirty laundry. He followed your schedule, knowing you wouldn't be home until evening. Chan hissed, tugging down his sweats, his cock sprung against his abdomen, hot and throbbing to the touch. Chan bit the end of his shirt, his hand eagerly stroking his cock to the raw scent of your underwear. Loud squelching echoed within the room, his cockhead leaking with dribbles of precum.

Chan whimpered, rubbing your soiled underwear against his sensitive slit. He bucked his hips, rubbing the silky material to his heart's desire. Chan whimpered at the pleasure, his precum drenching your underwear, "Cumming, cumming!" he growled, muffled against the cloth between his teeth when he heard the front door open. He jolted upright, finding a place to hide with his cock hard and on the edge.

Chan panicked and hid himself within your closet, the only section that didn't have clothes but for your collection hobbies. It had just enough space for him to stand within. Chan calmed his breath, his shaft throbbing within his palm. You walked into your room, headphones over your ears. Chan sighed in relief, knowing those headphones are sound proof and you probably didn't hear him.

You nonchalantly sat by your study desk, your phone displaying the camera installed in your room. Your underwater kept going missing and you wanted to know where it went. It didn't take long for Chan to sneak through your window to pump his cock to your clothing. At first you were disturbed, your privacy was invaded after all but you had a sick sense of collecting.

You didn't collect figures or albums. You collected things far more personal, most of the time it's hair, sometimes the occasional straw but now that you've gotten a personal muse. You weren't about to let him go, so you watched, you purposely left out your underwear, you purposely aligned your schedule so you wouldn't be home. Today was supposed to be one of these days but your classes got canceled.

You watched him on the way home, his moans filling your car as you parked on the porch. You watched until he was just about to cum, like he always did and opened the front door. It was cute watching him panic only to find the closet dedicated to your muse. Quite endearing to say the least. You walked up the stairs, keeping your expression neutral and sat by your desk.

You turned on your PC, and watched YouTube. You kept the PC on mute for show, letting Chan assume you connected your headphones to the device. Chan gulped, your scent flooding his nose the moment you walked in. His cock couldn't help but leak into his palm from the sheer proximity of your body so close to his. You lowered your headphones sensitivity that allows you to hear other people while wearing the device.

You braced yourself to hear a moan, a whimper, anything from the closet. Chan wanted to cry out from frustration, his cock twitching without a sense of shame. He rubbed his thumb between his slit, stifling a choked moan. You smirked, eyes on the PC when you heard it, 'There we go,' you thought, relaxing into your chair. Chan noticed you didn't react and pumped his cock at a languid pace.

His cockhead was always breaching the makeshift sleeve he made with his fist. Chan covered his mouth, rubbing his frenulum in hopes he'd cum just from that but you shifted. You got up from the chair and plopped yourself on the bed. You nonchalantly scrolled through your phone before, tugging down your pants. Chan gulped at the sight of your pretty legs, his strokes grew quicker as you slowly undressed.

NFSW BELOW CUT

AFAB

You groaned into your palm, your hand rubbing your puffy mounds. Chan whimpered, squeezing the base of his cock in a panic. He didn't want to cum without you. A moan eacaped your lips at his whimper, your hand grazing beneath the hem of your underwear, "Fuck," you whispered, your voice breathy and heavy with lust. You pulled your hand back only to see a trail of slick between your fingers.

You parted your lips and had a taste, you wanted to put on a show, you wanted to drive him insane. Chan felt his eyes roll back at the sight, his thighs sticky with his own arousal. You tugged down your underwear, your cunt bare to the chill air, "Cold," you grumbled, hugging your plush toy against your chest for warmth. You shifted your body, your cunt facing the exact closet, giving him a front row view.

You hissed, rubbing your fingers between your folds, "Hah, ah, ah," you gasped, teasing your needy swollen clit. Chan stared, his jaw agape at the sight, 'Finally,' he thought, seeing the maker of your dirty underwear. Seeing the sole being that drives his cock insane. You lubed up your dildo, one with a vibration feature and aligned it with your cunt. You bit your lips, whimpering at the initial thrust of the dildo easing within your ribbed walls.

Chan gulped, stroking his cock to your gentle pace, his eyes never left your fluttering pussy. You pulled your knees closer to your chest, the dildo hitting deeper than earlier from the position, "Fuck, there, there," you moaned, aligning the dildo against your puffy sensitive bundles of nerves. Chan picked up the pace when you did, his body convulsing from the edging.

You rubbed your clit in tandem with your thrusts, chasing that familiar coil of pleasure, "Close, close, hhgh," you whined, as the dildo buzzed against those nerves from the inside and out. "Shit, hah, hhgh," you cried out, climaxing around the toy. The musky scent of sex flooded the room, you didn't pull out the toy, but instead kept thrusting the toy through your overstimulation.

Chan sobbed into his palm, cum dripping down his fist like a broken faucet and when he saw that you were still going, he followed suit. "Hah, huh, huh," he muffled behind his palm, stroking his cock through the edging and overstimulation. You hiccuped, easily reaching your climax the second time, creaming around your dildo. Chan tossed his head back, hitting it against the closet with a thud as he orgasmed once again, the sheer bliss fogging his senses, his eyes crossed as he panted from the intensity.

You cleaned yourself up and burrowed yourself into the blankets, your headphones still secured on your head with your plush tucked within your arms. Chan waited until your breath settled and escaped your closet, he cleaned himself up knowing your headphones were still on and left the bathroom. You nuzzled your plush, hearing his heavy footsteps walk across your bed.

Chan walked towards your pillow, he leaned down and checked if your breathing was shallow before kissing your forehead. You smiled at the gesture, burrowing deeper into your plush. Chan smiled and eventually sneaked out of your room through the window. You heard your window click and exhaled in relief, thankful that you didn't get caught. An anonymous number texted you a picture, you clicked open and saw a picture of you sleeping.

It captioned, "I'm always watching, princess,". You chuckled at the text and took a screenshot. You printed it out with your mini printer and wiggled yourself out of bed. "He's such a sweetheart," you murmured, opening the same closet he was in. Inside it was covered with polaroids of him, most taken unknowingly, his hair in tiny baggies, his straws, his missing cap, his exact perfume, and now the sex-stained musk covering the walls of your closet. You pinned the text and kissed it, "One day, you'll be mine," you whispered, closing the closet and going back to sleep.

AMAB

You groaned into your palm, your hand rubbing your swollen bulge. Chan whimpered, squeezing the base of his cock in a panic. He didn't want to cum without you. A moan eacaped your lips at his whimper, your hand grazing beneath the hem of your underwear, "Fuck," you whispered, your voice breathy and heavy with lust. You pulled your hand back only to see a trail of slick between your fingers.

You parted your lips and had a taste, you wanted to put on a show, you wanted to drive him insane. Chan felt his eyes roll back at the sight, his thighs sticky with his own arousal. You tugged down your underwear, your cock bare to the chill air, "Cold," you grumbled, hugging your plush toy against your chest for warmth. You shifted your body, your cock facing the exact closet, giving him a front row view.

You hissed, rubbing your fingers between your slit, "Hah, ah, ah," you gasped, teasing your needy swollen cockhead. Chan stared, his jaw agape at the sight, 'Finally,' he thought, seeing the maker of your dirty underwear. Seeing the sole being that drives his cock insane. You lubed up your onahole, one with a vibration feature and aligned it with your cock. You bit your lips, whimpering at the initial thrust of the onahole squeezing around your throbbing cock.

Chan gulped, stroking his cock to your gentle pace, his eyes never left your leaking cockhead. You spread apart your legs, the onahole enveloping around your shaft even tighter than earlier from the position, "Fuck, harder, harder," you moaned, bucking your hips into the cocksleeve, the vibrations driving you senseless. Chan picked up the pace when you did, his body convulsing from the edging.

You rubbed your cockhead in tandem with your thrusts, chasing that familiar coil of pleasure, "Close, close, hhgh," you whined, as the onahole around your sensitive shaft, precum leaking in anticipation. "Shit, hah, hhgh," you cried out, climaxing within the toy. The musky scent of sex flooded the room, you didn't pull out of the toy, but instead kept thrusting into the toy through your overstimulation.

Chan sobbed into his palm, cum dripping down his fist like a broken faucet and when he saw that you were still going, he followed suit. "Hah, huh, huh," he muffled behind his palm, stroking his cock through the edging and overstimulation. You hiccuped, easily reaching your climax the second time, creaming within your onahole. Chan tossed his head back, hitting it against the closet with a thud as he orgasmed once again, the sheer bliss fogging his senses, his eyes crossed as he panted from the intensity.

It captioned, "I'm always watching, prince,". You chuckled at the text and took a screenshot. You printed it out with your mini printer and wiggled yourself out of bed. "He's such a sweetheart," you murmured, opening the same closet he was in. Inside it was covered with polaroids of him, most taken unknowingly, his hair in tiny baggies, his straws, his missing cap, his exact perfume, and now the sex-stained musk covering the walls of your closet. You pinned the text and kissed it, "One day, you'll be mine," you whispered, closing the closet and going back to sleep.

552 notes · View notes

sugarmelin · 1 year ago

Text

Would you look at that...

Paring: Skz x Reader

Warning: Yandere, mafia!au, alcohol, ect...

minors do not interact

Dan Bi note: Thank you for all of your support! I didn’t think you all will love this order this much so I do have to make this into a series, don't I? Would you all sweetcheeks like that? Let me know~

I apologize for the long wait And now you have it. I'm looking forward to your orders!

Enjoy !!!

Prolgue Chapter

You walk down the hallway to God knows where with a collar around your neck and your hands cuffed together, all connected to chains at the hand of the person who put them on you.

The walk was quiet, he didn't say anything while you were looking around, Analyzing everything for a way out. It does look like you under the ground, maybe a house above you two. Countless doors in every hallway you passed, tagging at your chains when you stopped for a few moments.

After a few minutes of walking, reaching to stop by a staircase leading to a wooden door. He went up while you stand from where you were, when the chains come to an end he tagged your chain in his hand, signing for you to start walking up.

When you didn't move he tugged harsher making you lean forward and start walking again, you glared at him.

Reaching the door he opened it, making you close your eyes and groan, your headache getting worse again. Blinking a few times before opening your eyes, Trying to get used to the lights while walking. You properly looked forward to seeing him going towards an elevator.

When you walked in he pressed the button to one of the floors, you didn't see which floor you were because the headache was making your vision blurry, after a minute your vision got better. "In a few minutes you're going to meet the boys, Noona." He says while side-eyeing you.

'So I'm older then him? While also being taller. Maybe two or three years being older.' You thought but said nothing.

The elevator reach a stop and the metal door opened, your eyes saw the big beautiful hallway. The sound you hear was laughter and talking.

When you walked out there were staircases on each side of the elevator with pretty red carpet laying on it. The place did look like a mansion, a fancy one.

With the expensive suite that he was wearing you did expect him to have a penthouse or something, giving off dose sugar daddy vibes.

Walking up the stairs, the talking and laughter got louder and louder.

Reaching the top, you saw a boy sitting on a chair in the middle of the room, his legs on the dining table with five black bags and money on it while two boys were counting the money's, laughing and chatting about another successful 'mission' they had. Some female maid's around them, serving.

Two boys at the bar, a bartender behind the bar cleaning a glass with cloth, a purple hair drinking some whisky on the one of chairs bar and another blonde hair boy, his hair tied to a half ponytail talking about something, his back towards you.

On the left, there was a couch with a person laying on it, with newspaper covering his face and looking like his sleeping and his head on a blonde boy's lap and his eyes closed.

"Boys" The voice of the boy in front of you boomed through the room, everyone's eyes now were on you two. The maid's in the room flinched, and the bartender too but after a few seconds he went back to what he was doing.

Your eyebrow narrowed together. 'Wait..'

"GET HER!" Someone yelled behind you. when you looked back while running, you saw four boys coming out of the van and starting to run toward you.

'It was him who yelled... the first one I saw between them.' Your eyes were now on him.

"Hyung what-" the blonde boy at the bar turn his chair around but stopped talking when he saw you, his eyes going wide.

"NOONA!" He jumped from his seat and come towards you.

"Jeongin! Jeongin! WAKE UP! Noona is here!!!" The boy sitting on the couch said, taking the newspaper of their face while repeatedly tapping the person's shoulder who's head was on his lap sleeping.

He groaned while sitting up and his eyes got locked with yours, a big smile formed on his face and jumped into his feet and runs towards you.

Your eye contact got broke when someone hugs you tight, it was the boy who was with the purple hair and that was coming towards you two.

You got distracted when the blond hair burying his face in between your chest, going up to your neck and inhaling your scent, sighing happily. You shift uncomfortable on your feet, making his grip on you tighten up.

"Be careful Hyunjin," The boy next to you chuckled. "She bites."

'Hyunjin' burrs his face more into your neck but someone grabbed his back collar, pulling him away from you, making him whine.

"Hyung! Why did you put this on Noona? Her wrists are red!!!" The blonde boy with... freckles, said it while coming towards you, taking your wrists in his and looking at them. You pulled away your wrists while he pouts trying to do it again but you moved back up a little.

"Felix is right hyung, you could put something softer!" A boy with chubby cheeks said putting a hand on the boy shoulder now you know his name Felix while all of them gathered around you and 'Chan'.

"Let me introduce them to you. Aren't you curious a little, Noona?"

Next chapter

Taglist: @skepticalkoi-catastrophe @salfetkasblog @icywinter1999 @yuh0yuh @lorarri @pink-rose-chans-baby @sky-outta @haleyms @lizzetmv

If you would like to be added to the taglist, tell me ! The two usernames among others couldn't be tagged sadly.

Like & reblog are appreciated and tell me what did you think ! I'm waiting for your jokes and tea baby~~

Don't forget to eat, drink water, love and take care of yourself and body ☆⌒(ゝ。∂)

See you on the next chapter baby ~

#stray kids drabbles #skz yandere #yandere!skz #yandere stray kids #yandere!straykids #skz mafia #mafia skz #stray kids mafia au #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfic #skz imagines

479 notes · View notes

daengtokki · 3 months ago

Text

part two // serial killer!Kim Seungmin/afab reader

WC: 12.7k

RATING: mature/explicit/mdni—contains: sex, oral sex, brief suicide mention, strangulation, manipulation, death/murder

˗ˋˏ♡ Thank you for the comments and likes and reblogs on part one. It means so much. Please consider reblogging/tagging if you like what you read! ˎˊ˗

And a very big thank you to @thackery-blinks for putting up with me and letting me bounce ideas off of her brain ♡

[ ML — DEITY MASTERLIST ]

Seungmin’s world goes quiet, calm…but it's only been a few hours, and he hasn’t yet left the cold emptiness of his bed. He hasn’t even attempted to crawl out of the hollow feeling he created for himself. The silence of the apartment feels different this time.

Inside of his head is a different story—you’ve upended him in more ways than one, and it may take a while to get himself back on two steady feet.

Nearly dying in his bed, coming back, being held, for hours, against your will…two out of three are new for him. And the sheer terror when he realized what he did, looking at your lifeless body—he hasn’t felt fear like that since he was a kid. There was no sense of relief, and there was certainly no quiet afterward. Right now, like last night, his mind is screaming at him, just not in the usual sense; he can’t figure out what you’ve done, because you’ve done nothing—you kept yourself at a distance, you enticed him (teased might be too unkind a word for you, he decides), and you didn’t deserve what little death you did have in his bed. Somehow, you’ve made yourself as much of a mystery as he’s tried to make himself, but he’s not as much of a mystery anymore...he gave too much of himself, and now he's going to pay for it.

You left your phone behind when you ran from him, not surprisingly, and later that afternoon, he somehow found the energy to leave the apartment. He walked to your building and left it with a note right outside your door. Whether or not you’re still there is unknown to him, but he wouldn’t be surprised if you were gone already—completely gone, on your way home, never to be seen by him again.

Seungmin knows the voice in charge will be returning soon, and he’ll fail if he doesn’t find some focus. He’ll really, truly fuck things up, and as much as he doesn’t want to blame you, it is you. He can’t think about you anymore; not today, not tonight.

/ / /

Showered and wrapped up tight in a blanket, you sit at your desk and stare at a blank computer screen. The email you started and stopped four times is sitting at a whole ten words, because you know you need to quit—you have to back out of this job and get back home. There’s no question about that. Nobody will believe what happened to you last night, so calling the police seems silly, and telling anyone else about it feels impossible right now. There is no proof of anything except that you went home with him, willingly. And you definitely can’t tell anyone you died, or at least stopped breathing, and came back during rough sex, because it’s stupid. It’s not believable. You’re still not entirely sure if it even happened. All you really know for certain is that you were outside yourself before finally taking that breath and seeing his face. You heard voices, but not his. You were in the dark, except for a few pinpricks of light. You felt your lungs fill up, once…twice…three times. And then you were back. You guess that’s what drowning feels like; the burning in your chest, the weightlessness, your brain misfiring and sending all the wrong signals to your eyes and ears and nerves.

It isn’t until later, after shutting your brain off and staring at the tv for hours, that you finally remember that you need to eat. You discover your phone right outside your door (should you be worried that he knows exactly where you live?). You knew that you left it on his bar, but you had no desire to try and retrieve it. It felt, and it still feels, like the least important thing in the world, but you’re relieved to have it back. Seungmin left a note taped to it, and you feel a little twinge of excitement (which you’re still trying to chalk up as leftover adrenaline...a little bit of curiosity) at what he could possibly have to say. That’s easy now, in the relative safety of your own apartment, so as soon as you can sit down with your dinner and a very strong drink, you rip it open and read.

You don’t get very far before something small and purple slips out onto your lap. It looks like a pressed flower. It is, and you know it’s heliotrope because it’s everywhere around your mother’s garden. The unmistakable fragrance is still a little obvious, even in its dried state. The addition might seem corny, but you don’t hate it—it’s an interesting choice of flower on his part. There are more inside the folded paper, and you let them fall onto you as you read…

Thank you for not throwing this in the trash.

I know I won't get to see you again, and typically, I wouldn't care or think much about my passing moments with strangers. Everyone is forgettable, and I can't figure out why you are not. I'm still very confused as I write out this letter —but I don't think I've been very forgettable for you, either. I ruined that last night.

He’s cocky, and he knows he’s absolutely right about him not being forgettable.

You don’t have to see me again, but maybe we can talk, and I can explain myself a little better. You saw a piece of me that you shouldn’t have, in my bedroom…in my drawer, and I know it seems impossible to explain, and that’s because it is. But if you’ll let me, I’ll try.

The letter is signed with a cute, loopy S.

The dried flowers are scooped up and placed next to your untouched plate. Eating, you decide, should come first. After that, you can dwell unnecessarily on the words of your would-be killer. What else could you possibly do? You know how your brain works, and you know how you are when you're alone, and lonely.

However, you do read back through the few texts you exchanged. You also check yourself in the mirror—there’s a bruise beginning to bloom on your shoulder, and two scratches next to your mouth where he held. The soreness in your thighs brings the memory of him to the front of your mind, over and over, and it works backwards from there—Seungmin holding you, touching you; the look in his eyes from the other side of the bar. There was nothing outwardly threatening about him, just strange. Strange, quiet, a little bit awkward. How easily could your mind gloss over something much weirder when a man that beautiful gives you that kind of undivided attention?

Now your mind goes forward to his touch; his hand caressing your aching chest, his soft voice, like if he's not careful, his words might finish killing you. He spoke far too gently, and he kissed much too deeply and eagerly for you to forget. And you haven't exactly forgotten that he never hurt you, at least not after your little journey. Maybe he messed up his original plan, and then had to do damage control...but that makes no sense. Seungmin could've finished the job easily, anytime he wanted to. If he wanted to suffocate you, he'd have done it. If Seungmin wanted to kill you, you wouldn't be here right now.

More memories return to you, very slowly. Slow down? I’m hurting you? He was attentive during sex, initially, even if he was rough...so what happened? He did slow down, tried to make you more comfortable, and he succeeded. You begged him not to stop. You were loud. Seungmin was right there when you woke up, holding onto you. Stay awake...I'm sorry. The frazzled girl looking back at you in the mirror is almost unrecognizable right now. You can't get his face out of your mind; his voice, his kiss, his big black eyes that could swallow you whole. Please don't cry.

Was he convincing enough for a text? Should you call him? Are you really this fucked up right now? You know you're being stupid and irrational, so you decide to be a little bit smart and sleep on it; wait and see how you feel in the morning.

It doesn't help much. You dream about him; his eyes staring into you, through you, eating away at you again...just like when he had you beneath him. You reach out and sweep the hair from of his eyes, and your fingertips pick up the cold, clammy sweat from his forehead. He speaks, but you don't understand a word he says. He holds a dirt-streaked hand out to you, and with no hesitation, you take it, and then you're back in the warm, wet darkness. No voices this time, just muddy, squishy footfalls getting closer and closer.

When you wake, you're damp with sweat, and you've never felt so cold.

It's risky, but he forgoes the tea tonight, and his little white anxiety pill as well. He's almost out anyway, so he should try and save them until he can get more. It's a mistake, and he suspected that as he finally drifted off; there's been far too much on his mind in the last 24 hours to expect a dreamless sleep...

"appa?"

he hushes him. seungmin can feel a hand close softly around his mouth.

"where is—"

"quiet...get back inside, now"

he trips and falls as he runs, and his knee lands in the muddy ground. the effort it takes to get back up is too much, but a hand grabs the straps of his overalls and pulls...and then pushes, and he's in the mud again. rain starts to fall before he can make it to the porch, but as soon as he reaches the steps...

Out of breath, burning chest. The face of his father, and the wet hand covering his mouth, is still there. He can still feel it. The first thing he does is reach for a pill.

But as soon as he swallows it, his mind wanders back to you. Are you still in Seoul? You've had plenty of time to book a flight, repack, and leave. Seungmin wonders if you ever opened your door and found the note, if you even bothered to read it if you did, if you got the dried flowers he took from his music box just for you—the flowers he'll have to return home to get more of. A stupid addition, you probably thought. A desperate attempt at romance.

The phone buzzes under his pillow, and he knows it’s just his usual alarms and reminders. Today he has to get up, get dressed, and work. He has to get his mind back on track—he has to, there is no other way for him. There is nothing else, aside from prison, or ending things on his own. He pulls it out and looks at it with one eye open, flips on his back, and stares. Part of him hoped it would be more than his alarms, and he'd be staring at a new text message from you...an apathetic "okay, I guess we can talk". Seungmin is severely underestimating how much he scared you, though. You were convinced, and you're probably still pretty sure you were going to die in that room. Whether or not he's going to pursue this further is still a big question mark, but he doesn't usually deal in question marks. Everything is either black or white for Seungmin.

If he can't have you, he might just have to kill you.

/ / /

Repacking your things as fast as possible; booking a flight you can afford (work refused to comp you, once you quit with no notice); explaining, or making up a convincing enough story for you mother and sister about the change of plans, has been exhausting, so falling asleep is easy once your head hits the pillow.

seungmin's hand lays softly on your chest, just under your throat. you can feel your slow heartbeat bouncing off of him, you can smell the sweet scent of his room, but that's not where you are. you look up, and then around you...and you see the bedroom of a child, a little boy. there's sunlight coming in through the sheer curtained window, and you can see bushes of yellow and purple flowers poking up into view. he moves closer to you, and speaks quietly...

"i have to go...i have to go take care of things"

"what things?

"you know"

"don't go, please"

you look to him, and he forces a smile. his hand slides up and closes around your throat, but he doesn't squeeze. he moves closer and places a kiss beneath your ear...

This time you wake up slowly, and comfortably. Your hand jumps up to your throat as you work hard to remember every detail, every touch, every word. The dreams you have aren't usually this vivid, and now you've had them two nights in a row—two very different ones; a bad one...well, it could have been worse. You still remember how he looked at you, and the feeling of him under your fingertips; but it was cold and dark. This second one practically gave you butterflies. This dream version of you was in love.

Why is your mind torturing you like this? You come dangerously close to texting him, but all you end up doing is rereading the messages already sent between you.

Seungmin sits and watches right across the street from your building, for hours. He didn't know he had this much patience in him. If he would have done this yesterday morning, he may have had a chance to catch you and follow, but he decided to stay in bed. Still, he has trouble moving.

A few minutes later, it finally pays off. There you are, looking up and down the busy narrow street, arms folded tight over your chest. Seungmin isn't that far from you in this bakery, and if he walks out now, you'll see him, so he waits until you decide what to do. Seeing you right now is actually giving him a nervous stomach, and he hates it...you look uncomfortable, and tired, and sweet; it's difficult keeping his mind where it needs to be. It doesn't help that he hasn't thought of a plan beyond waiting for you to leave your apartment. Should he just follow you, and hope you don't see him and run? That won't work. If he can figure out where you're heading, he can get there first, and run into you like it was just a coincidence.

Before he can finish his plan, you're headed east, and you're walking fast. He just decides to follow as discreetly as possible, which is easy at this time of day, and it only takes ten or so minutes for him to figure out where you might be going. But there's no possible way you're going to his apartment building. You pass by the GS25 where you met each other, and keep going, but you don't make the left turn that would lead to his building. You keep straight, and eventually, Seungmin does figure it out. It's the park he mentioned frequenting, that's where you're going. This is perfect. Even if you're not here to look for him, you're going to find him, but that has to be why you're here. Texting or calling might have felt like too much. Accidently running into him...well, it was an accident. Maybe you won't feel like you're seeking out the man who almost killed you, or purposely bringing him back into your life.

You find an empty bench and sit, look at your phone, look up and around, back to your phone. Still uncomfortable, nervous, tired. Cold, maybe. You didn't dress as warmly as you probably should have. Seungmin tests his patience some more and waits, but you don't move. In fact, you're starting to remind him of himself, sitting and watching, waiting for his next kill. He takes his eyes off of you for a few minutes to get a coffee, and then he prepares to approach. But he's nervous again. He's not used to this feeling. He takes his time walking down the pathway, and when he knows you can see his legs in your downward gaze, he stops.

You look up and keep your face as emotionless as possible, but it's not enough. Seungmin can see your surprise, a little bit of fear, and maybe something else.

"Hi." He keeps his face as neutral as possible, too. "You look cold."

"I'm fine"

"What are you doing here all by yourself?"

"Uhm, I don't have any friends. And isn't this what you do? Sit here alone waiting to pick people off?" You cross your arms over your chest again, and scoot a little further away. "I mean...I'm assuming that's why you come here, if I put the pieces together properly."

"Yes, you're pretty perceptive. But why are you here?"

"Because I couldn't hit send"

"What couldn't you send?" He was right.

Seungmin hears you take in a deep breath and hold it, then slowly let it out in a big cloud of condensation. "I keep having dreams about you."

But he wasn't expecting that.

"Good ones I hope." So you haven't left his mind at all, even in your sleep. You don't reply. "I've been having the same old nightmares. A dream about you would be a nice change."

"One was pretty nice, yeah"

"Is it alright if I sit next to you?"

You nod, but Seungmin still takes his time taking those last few steps and sitting. Once he does, he offers you the hot coffee he's been holding onto, and to his surprise, you take it and sip it carefully. The letter he wrote promised some sort of explanation for what happened that night, and for the things you saw, but he wasn't expecting to have a chance at doing that. He hasn't thought of a single way to explain his drawer, or almost killing you.

“What’s in the syringes, the ones in your murder drawer?”

Murder drawer. Are you reading his mind, or is he just projecting onto you? He looks around, but nobody is close enough to hear the conversation. “A sedative, a light one…for emergencies. That's all.”

“You didn’t use one on me”

“Well, I had…” he stops, and thinks. What he almost says is I had control of the situation, but that doesn’t sound like what you want to hear. It’s also a very obvious lie. “The drug is not fun to come out of, and…what I put you through was bad enough.”

“So who do you use them on? And the knife?”

Seungmin doesn’t know how to answer this. He can’t explain how he picks his victims, because he doesn’t always understand his reasoning. “The ones I can’t control any other way. And I don’t use the knife very often.”

“It’s kind of obvious now that I’m talking to you, but thinking about it yesterday, and the night before…wondering if I was just over-reacting...”

“You’re not, you know what you saw, and you had every reason to be afraid of me”

“So you are…” you can’t finish the question. "This is what you do?"

“Yes”

“Why?”

“It’s hard to explain”

“Why didn’t you kill me?

“I haven’t figured that out yet”

“But you would, if you got another chance…if you had me alone right now, with no witnesses”

“No.” You look around, and Seungmin thinks you’re a little more relaxed now—as relaxed as someone could be in this situation. “I don’t think so.”

“You wanted to before, though. That’s why you spoke to me, and helped me get home.”

“Yeah, that was my original plan”

“I’m assuming you’ve done this before”

“Killed? Yes. Accidentally killed someone and brought them back in a panic? That one is new for me.”

“When’s the last time you did it…killed someone?”

It feels like a regular conversation now, regardless of the subject. Most of the tension is gone from your voice, and you stopped fidgeting with the coffee cup. You still look cold, though.

“The day we met”

Everything goes silent after that. Even the people around you become strangely quiet, as if everyone decided to listen in. Seungmin can see your mind working behind your eyes, but you’re not rushing to speak again. He slides out of his jacket and sets it over your shoulders, and you leave it there.

“Before, or after?”

“After”

“To make up for me?” You fold your legs up onto the bench and disappear into his jacket a little more, and Seungmin smirks.

“Sort of. That's why I was out that morning, things just didn’t go exactly as planned. I’m still glad you showed up, though.”

“Are you saying that because you think it’s what I wanna hear, or because it’s true? I don’t wanna turn you into a cliche, but are you capable of that much…well, liking someone enough to not kill them. I guess you are.”

“I like things. And I feel a lot, maybe too much sometimes.”

"Things?"

"Not people, typically"

"Sorry.” Why are you apologizing to him? Your assumption was a little bit hasty, and rude, but being a murderer is pretty rude, too. The look on his face is just that, though…full of emotion, full of sadness, and confusion. This is exactly how he looked at you that night before you both fell asleep, he just doesn’t know how to express it properly. Maybe he's just mimicking. “Uhm, did I actually die? What happened?”

“I’m not sure, but you weren’t breathing. I talked to you, slapped you…lightly, and panicked a little. After I panicked, I…” he sets his fingers on his lips, and tries to remember what it’s called in English. “…I blew air into your lungs.”

“Three times?”

Seungmin thinks for a second. “Yeah, three breaths…I kissed you after the third time.” Why did he tell you that?

“You kissed me? Why did you kiss me?”

You’re nothing but questions, and Seungmin is not used to getting interrogated like this. He wants to tell the truth, but he also needs to be careful and not scare you off, or be too truthful. It’s a little exhausting.

“I thought that might be my last chance while you were still warm.”

There’s another long silence. Too long. Maybe Seungmin said the wrong thing, even though it is the truth. He wonders if he should get up and leave you alone for a few minutes. But what if he comes back and you’re gone? Was the kiss that strange? Why is he assuming it was the kiss that’s making this awkward? Everything about this is strange for you.

“I think I felt your breath filling my lungs, but I was still somewhere else. Somewhere really dark, and wet. I could feel…outside air around me, it was so heavy."

“Completely dark, like the bedroom?”

“No, there was some light, like little streams of light coming in through holes punched into the walls, between the slats of wood. It was weird, and I remember it very vividly now that I’m talking about it.”

Seungmin doesn��t mention it feeling like his nightmares, but it does. And it can’t be, obviously. Just a coincidence. It was probably the darkness of his bedroom, and your eyes trying desperately to find something. “I’m sorry”

“Thank you for bringing me back”

“I’m glad I could. And I hope you don’t leave Seoul because of me.”

"There's nothing for me here." You quit your job, and you can't take that back. You booked a flight, and you packed up most of your things.

"When are you leaving?"

"Thursday"

“Do you have plans today?”

“Are asking me out?”

“You can tell me no, I won’t be surprised”

“No, I don’t have plans today"

“I just figured I’d take a shot while we were still here. I don’t expect a second chance. You really shouldn’t be involved with someone like me, and I shouldn’t be pulling someone into my fucked up life. But this is all new for me.”

“What is? A relationship? Friendship? An acquaintance?”

Seungmin nods, “all of those, and speaking openly—not lying about everything. That’s new, too.”

“Does that make me special?” You’re not sure if you’re being facetious, or if something inside of you wants to be the thing he needs to keep alive. A bad romance novel come to life. That’s why you’re here right now, obviously, because of every little gesture Seungmin has extended to you—everything aside from his complete loss of control. Being a murderer doesn’t mean he’s incapable of the truth, or sincerity. Right?

Seungmin smirks at the question, “Maybe.” He moves his hand closer to yours, but stops when you pull it away. "So why did you kiss me?"

Why did you kiss him? Because you needed to—because he's beautiful, and he was right there, sleepy face inches from yours. Because you've read too many bad romance novels. Because clearly, you're messed up, too, since you're even sitting here right now. And because, like him, you were sure it was your last chance. "I figured it made a good distraction."

"Oh...yeah, I guess it did"

"And I wanted to. I wanted to as soon as I saw you, but I forced myself to keep some distance. So maybe there was some fear of regret mixed with my fear of being murdered. How stupid is that?" You watch his mouth twitch as he tries to hold his smirk back. “I feel that a lot. Regret.”

“I don’t typically feel it...the regret, the remorse, and the empathy most people are used to. I guess that does make me a, uhm...what was that word?"

"Cliche?"

"Yeah. Sometimes I wish I could feel the regret, or a little bit of empathy. But lately, I think I have felt it a little."

“You feel regret? About what?”

"Fucking up what was very close to a good night. I didn’t even get to make you come."

Seungmin loves the blush slowly rising up your neck, and now, being out in public, he likes it even more. He meant it, the regret about not getting you off when he was eating you out, but it’s your blush, not the memory, that makes his cock twitch in his jeans.

“No, I guess you didn’t.” You close your palms over your warm cheeks for a moment, and stifle a laugh. He's actually making you laugh. Something about him really is messing you up.

"Let me make it up to you"

The dark blue of the room is calming. Everything is soft, and unusually warm. The smell is the same as you remember. It doesn’t feel strange being here again, like it should. Not uneasy, and not scary. Maybe there’s something wrong with you, too.

“Are you alright? I thought you left me.” Seungmin hangs onto the door jamb and clicks on another lamp. You can hear the relief in his voice.

/ / /

This new view of him is nice—on his knees, head down, lips marking your stocking covered thighs. He’s gentle, and probably nervous that he’s not being gentle enough. “Seungmin.”

He looks up, cheek still resting on your thighs, and you’re struck by how innocent he appears, how sweet and puppy-like his eyes are. You smile, and he gets back to work. His hands slide up and underneath your skirt, and down come the stockings, very slowly. Now he kisses your bare skin, and his warm, wet lips send a shiver through you. You can feel how soaked through your panties are as they pull away from your body. He seems to stop and admire them, just like last time, before tossing them to the side.

“Are you comfortable?” Seungmin pulls until you’re at the very edge of the cushion, sending the hem of your skirt up and out of his way. He doesn’t wait for an answer.

The entire ride back to his apartment, you were ready for him. The memory of last time, how good he felt, is still very real. It was excruciating, having him so close and not touching—keeping your cool, not letting him know just how badly you wanted him. But the elevator doors closed, and he backed you into the corner, held you softly by the neck, and kissed you. The entire ride up, 25 floors and luckily no interruptions, he kissed, pulling back occasionally to let you breathe.

You fall back against the couch, and let him know how good it feels to have him there. “Yes,” you sigh, whine his name, and he likes that. He gives a deep, satisfied groan as he sucks you between his lips, and he stays there, savoring the taste as it pours out. But he can’t keep himself from teasing, and he slows down when your moans become erratic, focuses on your entrance, spreads your lips apart and licks, a little selfishly. But it feels so good, and you taste so good. Seungmin can’t get enough, and as badly as he wants to make you come, he isn’t ready to stop yet. He needs as much as you can give, and has to hope you’ll stay with him and keep your legs open all night.

“Seungmin, please…I need it”

He looks up and runs his tongue slowly over every part of you before stopping at your clit—so sensitive, his warm breath is enough to set your hips in motion.

“I know,” he kisses, “I’m being greedy.” He kisses again, sucks hard, and his thumb slides gently over the rest of you, making your hips jump against his mouth. He does it again, gathering some arousal, and slowly circling your entrance before sliding it in.

You close your eyes and relax, let it wash over you. He doesn’t stop this time. It’s intense, slowly pulsing through every single nerve his lips are working on—“oh…god…fuck,” you roll your hips up, needing more, needing him. Every muscle relaxes, and you sink into the couch, but the waves of pleasure keep coming. You watch him work, softly flicking his tongue between your lips, so swollen and so hungry for him—his mouth, his hands. You need it again, his cock stretching you to your limit. Barely down from this high, and you can’t wait for the next one. After a few more slow, selfish licks, Seungmin gives his mouth a break, and breathes.

“Thank you,” you laugh, feeling a little delirious. The room spins above you, but you feel his hands push your knees together. This is definitely the first time you’ve thanked someone for making you come, but it seemed appropriate. “Is it my turn?” There are still memories from that night trickling in, and you get another when the question leaves your lips—the cocktail, and Seungmin’s comment that put everything in motion.

“Your turn?”

No, you don’t always go down easy…

“Oh,” smiling wide, eyes shining, dick threatening to escape his tight briefs as he rises. “But you don’t have to, if…” he looks down, then back at you, “if it’s uncomfortable.”

It’s intimidating to look at, but finally touching him, realizing how much of a handful he really is, “I don’t mind trying,” you pull the fabric until his head appears, and immediately close your mouth around his pre-cum soaked tip. “Or just…” you lick slowly, letting your tongue slide up and onto his stomach before going back to do it again.

“Take your time”

“Sit”

Seungmin listens, and frees himself a little more before hitting the couch. He knows what you want, and he watches as your mouth patiently explores him—you kiss and lick every inch as your hands stroke softly. You desperately want to make him feel good—return a little bit of what he just gave you. And Seungmin does let you know what he likes: everytime your tongue slides over his head, the deep moan from his chest soaks you again. “I want you.” Your heart races at the thought of it. It beats so hard you think you might pass out…again, this time on your own.

He rolls his hips and pushes himself in a little further, “I know you do, get down…on your back.”

You release him, a little reluctantly, but you let yourself fall backwards until you’re flat on the soft carpet. He follows, hovers, and eyes every inch of you before unzipping and discarding your skirt. “Are you alright?” The perceptiveness shouldn’t be that surprising to you, but the concern takes you back to that night. His voice feels far away, but it’s because of your heart pounding in your ears, you think. It’s not until now that you feel outside of yourself again. Why does he keep doing this to you? You’re weightless again, floating, watching everything happen in slow motion—slipping away.

“Hey, look at me,” he sets his palm just beneath your throat, but he quickly moves it down. “Can you hear me? Your heart feels like it’s about to explode.”

The sound of him pulling a blanket from the couch, and the feeling of it draping over your half naked body brings you back, just enough to open your eyes and find his worried face. “I can hear you.” A moment later, he’s gone. “Don’t go.”

“I’ll be back”

You sit up and look around, but vertigo hits and you shove your face into the blanket. The feeling of passing out is still threatening you, and it takes everything to keep it at bay.

“Here, drink some water. And if you’d like…” in his open palm is one tiny white pill, “but you don’t have to. They help with my panic attacks. And my nightmares.” Seungmin just stares softly, still worried.

“I’m okay.” An obvious lie—you’re still on the edge of a cliff, dizzy, and very much on the verge of throwing up. “Water is good.”

“You should lie down on the couch,” Seungmin doesn’t move, and he doesn’t touch you. Not yet. He assumes his touch is the reason why you’re fighting for your breath on his floor right now.

“Where’s your bathroom?”

“Right behind you”

/ / /

“Are you alright? I thought you left me.” Seungmin hangs onto the door jamb and clicks on another lamp. You can hear the relief in his voice, and you could hear the nervousness in it when he called out your name the first time.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Just wanted to see the room again.” But you did check the front door, and found it unlocked. He also didn't hover when you shut yourself in the bathroom for ten minutes, because you managed to sneak into his bedroom when you finally emerged. It put you a little more at ease after the panic attack.

“We can stay in here, if you want. I can bring our drinks in.”

“No, just you”

“Just me?” He takes a few steps toward the bed. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sorry, I don't know what happened.”

Seungmin stops just short of where you’re sitting, “I do.“ He looks nervous—he is nervous. “This is probably a bad idea."

“I should leave?”

“No, no, I want you to stay, but I'm aware that I set off your panic attack. That was my fault."

It seems like he’s more empathetic than he realizes. Or maybe he’s faking. He is a killer, after all; a psychopath—one that gets his way by being handsome and charming, and right now might not be any different than his other seductions. Maybe he’s taking the long way around to get you where he wants you, and you’re stupid and blind enough to fall for it. “We could just enjoy each other’s company.” It’s a silly suggestion, and you realize that as it’s coming out of your mouth. “For now. If that’s not too much.”

He smirks. “Enjoy each other’s company?" He isn't exactly sure what you mean, but he wants to find out.

“Stupid idea?”

"Depends on what you mean by it. I don't typically enjoy anyone's company. I hate it, actually."

You know he's not trying to be funny, but something about him is accidentally humerous, and you assume it's because you're here with him right now...because he wanted you here, keeping him company. "That doesn't seem completely true."

The look on his face speaks volumes. You can tell he feels a little bit exposed, and a little bit confused. Seungmin turns to hide, his arms fold over his chest, and he takes a few steps toward the balcony. "I like sex. I have to deal with someones company if I'm going to get it."

"Is that why I'm here? You need to finish properly?"

"No"

"No? You made me come, but you haven't, have you? Did you finish when I was passed out?"

Seungmin doesn't answer.

"You've been far too patient with me, and it's weird"

"Weird?" Now he turns back to you, "...isanghan?" And takes a step toward you again. “Considering what sex tends to do to me, and considering I like it so much, you should be grateful for my patience."

“What exactly does it do to you?” One more step. Now you can reach out and touch him if you want. You don't.

“Mm, that’s when I do it, usually…after sex. At least when things go to plan.”

“Are you trying to scare me off again?”

Seungmin’s face doesn't change. “No, just trying my hand at more honesty, I guess.”

“When is the last time you had sex without killing the person afterward? Aside from me.”

The silence as he thinks stretches out far too long, and he sits at the edge of the bed, keeping some distance between you, “I don’t remember.”

You rise from your spot, and Seungmin probably assumes you need more distance from him, but that’s not the case. “We don’t have to talk about it.” He watches as you round the bed, pull at his pile of covers, and climb in.

/ / /

Seungmin just stares, tucked tightly under the covers, for most of the evening. He only moves closer when you reach out and brush the hair away from his forehead, run your fingers through it. He seems to relax under your touch. This kind of interaction with another person is definitely unusual for him, and with the attitude he gave earlier, you're surprised he's still sharing the space with you. Sleep comes easily, though, and hours later, you wake up. It’s not quite morning yet, but you can see sunlight trying to break through the curtain. Seungmin’s breath bounces steadily off of your neck, warm and pleasant. His leg is pushed between your thighs, moving a little in his sleep, and his arms are pulled tight against him, almost as if he’s hugging himself. Keeping your hands to yourself is a challenge, and it’s made even more difficult when he stirs a little—a soft, sleepy groan escapes him, and when your fingertips slide across his cheek, he sighs deeply, and settles again. In his sleep, he looks a little different; his face looks younger and softer, his brow isn’t furrowed, like it seems to be almost constantly, and his lips form into a perfect heart shaped pout. The real him, maybe.

As soon as you close your eyes, you’re gone, but it feels like only moments pass when you hear his faint moans, and a string of slurred words. He’s flat on his back, chin up, head pushed hard into the pillow, and the look on his face is his usual worried one. Your graze your knuckles against his cheek, but he doesn’t feel it. Whatever has him in his sleep is holding tightly.

"Seungmin?”

no, I won't help you

His words are clear now, but in Korean, so you don’t know what he’s saying.

please look at me

A tear is squeezed from the corner of his eye, and it trickles slowly across his temple. You wipe at it, and this time his eyes open. He catches his breath before looking around and remembering where he is, and why he’s not alone bed.

You reach for him again, but he turns away and stares absently at the wall. “Nightmares?”

Seungmin is quiet, but he nods.

“You were sleeping well when I woke up earlier, I hope it was enough.”

He remains still, head down, hands clenching and unclenching as he thinks, or clears his mind, or maybe he’s putting his nightmare back together in his head. Maybe he needs one of his pills. Would it be strange to treat him the way he treated you…gently, like you might shatter at the smallest touch? “Can I get you anything?” You whisper.

Silent still, but he shakes his head.

“Should I go?”

This time he turns and looks at you with sharp, sad eyes—a look brimming with the unspoken emotions trapped inside of his head. And he isn’t sure how to answer. Yes, you should probably leave, is Seungmin’s first thought, because he knows where this is going; the noises in his head are slowly returning, and getting to this point was difficult enough when his mind was quiet. “It’s coming back.”

“What is?”

Aside from the noise, the voices…the itch that doesn’t stop until it’s done, Seungmin doesn’t know how to put it into words. He’s never had to put it into words, now that he’s thinking about it, because why would he ever tell anyone? This is all he’s ever known, and sometimes he still forgets that most people (you, he assumes) can make up their own minds, and follow their own train of thought every single day. He doesn’t have that option. “Nothing, never mind. I just…need to wake up, I think”

Going out of his way to get to you again, and to see you, was a stupid mistake. Seungmin thinks the only option is you leaving and saving yourself from him. Why did he disrupt his perfectly comfortable, routine existence? Comfortable might be stretching it, but whatever he managed to create was working. There is nowhere that you fit into this, and he knows that. He hasn't forgotten...black or white. You’re here now, yes, but you haven’t seen the worst of him—nowhere near it. If you leave now and go back home, you’ll be spared the real Seungmin, and a possibly death by his hands. He needs that, because he still doesn’t want to hurt you.

“I need to find someone, and I need to do things right this time.” Seungmin forces himself to look at you, “so I can have some peace for a while.”

“Oh, okay...I think I understand”

“I need to be alone”

“So I won’t see you again,” you’re up out of the bed, adjusting your clothes, and heading toward the door.

“That’s probably for the best. You should pack up and go home.”

“I will”

“I’m sorry I fucked everything up, but if you leave, you’ll be happier, and safer”

“Safer from you?” Once again, you’re stuck in this room, only this time, it’s your own fault. The door is wide open, but you can’t move.

“Maybe”

“So you lied to get me here. Why didn’t you just kill me when you had the chance? You had several…you still have one more, I’m right here.”

“I don’t want to kill you, I want you to leave and never have to look at me again”

The step back is easier now, but the empty feeling creeping up your stomach and chest is making you sick. Your heart is pounding wildly again, but you don’t know if it’s panic, or anger, or something else. It seems like only a few hours ago you were struggling with the idea of communicating with him, and now he’s pushing you out. “Good luck with your—“ you stop and look at him. He isn’t looking back, “your work.”

The blank face staring up at him; the dead eyes, and blue-tinted lips, feels like a reflection of himself. His fingers remain laced around her neck, tangled in the shoulder-length hair and delicate silver necklaces. It was too much—the force he used this time; the crack, and the crunch of her trachea as it collapsed under his hands was unusual for him. It felt good, though, and it was exactly what he needed. But now he's more exhausted than he can ever remember feeling. Seungmin is careful as he loosens his grip, because the necklaces cut right into his skin as he squeezed. The imprints of his hands are still there, red and angry, and a slow trickle of blood starts to drip from her nose.

There won't be any sleep tonight. He has to dispose of this body now, and he has to do it well, because his perfect handprints, and the DNA all over her jewelry won't do him any favors if she's found.

He looks down at her and sees you for the briefest moment. There is no resemblance, at all, and that he did on purpose. Still, you continue to invade his every thought.

Thursday arrived and passed quietly. No message. Expecting one more goodbye from you was a little bit stupid. Seungmin started things, fucked them up, started them again, and then ripped the rug from beneath you...any normal person wouldn't want to deal with his shit anymore, even if he wasn't what he is. You should truly want nothing to do with him, and you’re now out of his reach. You’re safe. You found his gray area.

"Maybe I should burn you," he says out loud. Also not his usual MO, but he's done it before. Not sticking to the same kill, same demographic, same dumping ground, is one of the reasons he hasn't been caught. At least that's what he assumes. "Or maybe I should just leave you in the hallway so they can find me."

Seungmiiin

He jumps, but he knows he's hearing things. That doesn't keep him from listening.

Minnie...please be careful, you know how clumsy you are sometimes

It's not really there, but he knows where it's coming from. If he follows it, it'll lead to the same spot it always does.

I love you so much, and I want you to be happy

"Stop it." Seungmin shakes his head, as if that will wake him up and quiet things again. "Stop, I know...I will be careful. I promise."

You're so clever, and talented, and full of love...nobody can take that from you, not even him

"Okay..." Seungmin flexes his sore hands, and carefully removes himself from the body. He'll burn everything on this bed, too, he decides. The sheets, the blankets, the bedspread...maybe the pillows. "Did you hear that, too?" He looks to Daengmo, sitting perfectly on the bedside table, watchful as ever. "I know you did."

/ / /

Fourteen hours; that's how long he sleeps. When he wakes up, he has no idea where he is, or what day it is. He hardly remembers what happened in the last 24 hours, or that he spent longer than he ever has disposing of a body. Seungmin is in pain, though—his hands, his shoulders, back...hips. The moment he flips onto his back and stares up at the ceiling, he starts to recall what he did, and why he's so sore, but he immediately starts to doze again. Fourteen hours wasn't enough.

He forces his eyes back open and picks up his phone; almost 9:30. "Did you really leave?" He says, and pulls up Thursday's flights from Seoul back to North America. Seungmin has no idea where you're from, or where you were headed, but he looks anyway.

"Air Canada...to Toronto, cancelled. Korean Air, to New York, arrived on time, to Chicago...delayed four hours.”

Why is he dwelling on this? His mind is finally clear for nothing but his own thoughts, and his own thoughts go right to you.

That’s a stupid idea, he thinks, and looks around, "isn’t it?" His eyes fall to his stuffed dog, still sitting quietly on the table. "Is it? She’s either there, or she’s not." Eyes back to the ceiling, "you liked her, didn’t you?"

The streets are still busy and loud, even at this hour, in this cold, but Seungmin feels good. Black coffee and a few painkillers perked him up, and the sharpness of his mind is doing wonders for his mood. It wasn’t until he finally crawled out of bed that it hit him; the last few weeks have actually been a nightmare, mentally. It was the worst rut he’s been in for a long time. He hasn’t quite been himself.

But he’s out of it now, finally. For a while.

He stands in front of your apartment building, and waits. It takes a few minutes before the crowd dwindles enough, but as soon as it does, he goes for the door, and it’s open. No buzz-in needed. Three floors up, he remembers (but there are only four floors anyway), three doors down, on the right. The hallway is deserted, and so quiet that it actually unnerves him a little—it almost makes him turn around. Seungmin stands there, and waits, listens. Still quiet. Your apartment isn’t your apartment anymore, he knows that, but he rings the doorbell anyway. He can hear it echo through your deserted living room.

Nothing. Seungmin knew you were gone. He digs in his coat pocket and pulls out the lock picking set he wasn’t sure he would even need, and he still doesn’t know why he’s using it. Maybe you left something behind. He works on the deadbolt for a few seconds, but even taking his time, and working quietly, he hears the click. The doorknob is next, and that one is even easier. Inside, the scent of your perfume, or shampoo…whatever it was, still lingers—a sweet, deep floral scent Seungmin can’t quite place. He shuts the door behind him, and breaths deep. It’s empty inside, and dark. No boxes, or clothes; just the couch, the armchair, the coffee maker. All the things that were here before you. Still, he walks around and looks, doing his best to keep quiet, and doing his best to adjust to the dark. His eyes don’t do well with no light, even with his glasses.

A creak stops him in his tracks and puts him on edge…gets his heart pumping, and he stays there frozen, ears perked. He likes this type of adrenaline rush.

“Seungm—“

It’s only a whisper, but he knows it’s behind him. The faint outline is human, but that’s all he can make out. As soon as his hand finds something to grab, it grabs, and pushes, hard, and their back finds the wall. The sound is so loud in the silence, and the neck he’s gripping is so small and soft…

“Ss…stop”

His eyes adjust, and he can see more clearly as he stares into your terrified face. They drop to his hand still wrapped tight around your neck. Seungmin’s body goes numb.

“It’s me, please”

“Fuck…I’m—” his grip finally relaxes and frees you, but he grabs your arms as your knees give out, “I thought you left,” he whispers to himself, and holds you up. “You’re still here.”

“Yeah, I’m here”

"Are you okay?”

“Let go,” you push him away, and finish falling to your knees. “Don’t touch me.” A panic attack is forcing its way in, and you can’t get enough air. This can’t be happening again—this shitty astral projection. Every time he’s around you, something bad happens. Why didn't you just stay at the airport?

Seungmin’s hand runs slowly across your back, “you scared me."

“Why are you here?” You shake his hand away from you again, but he doesn't take it off.

“I could ask you the same thing. I rang the doorbell before I broke in.”

“I figured it was a drunk neighbor”

“Look at me, let me see your neck”

You lift your head for him, but he doesn’t look at your neck. One hand cups your cheek, and the other moves the loose hair from your eyes. He looks at you, stares so hard it makes your stomach hurt, but you can't look away. "You didn't leave."

"No"

"Why didn't you leave?"

"My flight got cancelled, three times. I got tired and begged my landlord for a few more days." It's catching up to you; the exhaustion, and the stress, and you start to feel tears brimming. You really don't want to cry right now, though. Your brain always chooses the worst times to do it. "They lost my luggage, or someone stole it, I don't know...I don't have anything."

"Nothing?"

"Just what I have in my bag"

Something he can fix, that's the only thing running through his mind now. Seungmin is useless, and he knows that—the world wouldn’t change at all if he was suddenly gone. He takes and takes, and he never gives. He doesn’t fix things.

“Why are you here, Seungmin?”

Why is he here? He thinks you probably know why he’s here, because you’ve proven yourself to be very perceptive. But you’re also upset. You’ve been here with nothing, Seungmin assumes, since at least Thursday; two nights, three if you count tonight.

“I, uhm,” he can answer two different ways, or he can lie. “I thought you might have left something behind, so I didn’t think it would hurt to check.”

“Left something behind…like what?”

Maybe a letter, like he wrote for you. An article of clothing, or a piece of jewelry. Something tangible he could hold onto. “I needed to know if you really left”

“Keep telling me the truth”

Seungmin’s heart thumps in his chest, and in his head, “okay.”

“Do you want me leave?”

“No”

“Why?”

“I don’t know…” he watches as you stand and head toward the bedroom, “wait, wait.”

“I’m tired”

“Come back with me”

Finally, he gets it out. His heart still thumps, and it shakes his whole body, but he did it, he spit the words out. He isn’t ready for the let down.

“You sent me away, didn’t want me to look at you again.” He stares blankly, avoiding you completely. “You told me I’d be safer away from you.”

“And it might still be true.” Seungmin shakes his head, like he’s trying to clear more voices out of it. "But..."

“Okay”

The only possession you have left, your backpack—not even completely full, hangs on Seungmin’s shoulder as he works on his locks. Four of them, two different keys, plus one digital lock; you’d think he had something to hide in here. “Sorry, this one always sticks.” He gives you a half smile. His demeanor changed drastically after your okay.

“It’s alright”

“You can shower, if you’d like. Are you hungry?”

Yes, you’re starving. You still have money, but you were preparing for a hotel bill come tomorrow morning. Canceling is an option now, you suppose, but you’re hesitant to do it. “I am.”

“What are you in the mood for? Unless you’d rather sleep first, maybe you’re more tired than hungry. A bath might be nice, though. Maybe—”

“How about I shower while you…make something, or order it?”

“I can cook”

/ / /

The last time you used this bathroom, you were mid-panic attack. Now you’re comfortable in the tub Seungmin insisted you soak in, and you’re very glad he did. You watched him pick out his favorite bath salts so you could try them—he filled the tub, poured them in, and made sure you approved before leaving you…”take your time.” He gave you his full smile this time, but it was a little hesitant.

This is the most relaxed you’ve been in weeks, and you hate thinking it now, but Seungmin has given you nothing but terror, anxiety, anger, and overwhelming emptiness. It’s been a struggle finding anything positive in your short time in Korea, and it’s because of him. Leaving was supposed to fix this, but you couldn’t do it. A cancelled flight was nothing, but a second cancelled flight felt like a sign. After the third one, you gave up on rebooking, but you had no clue what your plan was from there.

Ten minutes into your bath, he knocks softly before cracking the door, “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to make anything too spicy unless I asked”

“No spice”

The door closes softly, and you can’t hold back a stupid grin. He’s out of his element right now, again, and you wonder if he’s ever cooked for anyone before; a date, if that’s what you can still call yourself; a friend, an acquaintance. No, you know he hasn't; Seungmin doesn't like company. You’re messing him up, just like he’s messing you up.

/ / /

Seungmin can cook, he’s just not very good at it. He’s hoping you’re hungry enough not to care. Focusing on the food in front of him is difficult, though, when your half-unzipped backpack is right there on the couch. There isn’t much in it, but there is something in there; your most important things, probably—the only things you felt the need to keep with you for the long trip home. He can’t help it, he has to look. It’s not even close to the worst he’s done to you already.

A phone charger, earbuds, a jewelry case. Seungmin opens that, but there’s not much inside: two small silver rings, a necklace with a medallion hanging from it. He recognizes it right away, because his mother had the same one in her jewelry box; St. Michael, vanquishing the devil.

He digs a little further. A pill case, a sweatshirt…he pushes that aside and wraps his fingers around a tightly folded piece of paper, and he recognizes it as soon as he pulls it out. He barely unfolds it before a familiar dried flower slips out and onto the floor, and then another.

“Be careful with those”

Seungmin jumps, but doesn’t drop anymore, “sorry,” and he bends to pick them up.

“So you’re a murderer, and a snoop”

“Snoop? Like the little dog?”

“Yeah, like the beagle. Did you find anything good?”

“I thought you would’ve thrown this away.” He gently opens one side and slides the flowers back inside. “I mean, I’m not usually this—”

“Nosy?”

“I was going to say rude”

“Nowhere near the worst thing you’ve done, it’s okay”

Right. Not even close. “Oh, let me get you something to wear,” he says, but he takes an extra few moments to scan over every part of you, tightly wrapped in his towel. “A shirt, and maybe something else of mine will fit.”

You follow him into the bedroom, and his curtain is pulled back as far as it goes. The view is nicer now than it was when you stood there during the day, and much nicer than it was when you ran out in a panic, looking for an exit. Seungmin is on his knees, rifling through the bottom dresser drawer, and he’s a nicer view, too. You still think you should hate him, and you do, a little bit, but the longer you’re near him, the easier it becomes.

“Here, try this,” he holds up a black t-shirt, a little faded, and definitely big, even for him. “It’s comfortable.”

“Did you dye your hair?” The way the light hits it in here, it looks darker.

He hands you the shirt, and watches carefully as you pull it over your head. “I did, it just didn’t take very well.” The towel doesn’t shake loose until the hem falls below your hips, and he's a little disappointed. Still, he looks for whatever shape he can find under all the fabric. His eyes move down your legs, and back up slowly, stopping when he gets to your thighs.

“The glasses suit you, I like them”

“You do?” He lights up a little at the compliment, and smiles when you nod. “My shirt suits you.”

Seungmin hopes, he really hopes…he’s not sure where you’re at right now, as far as trusting him, and feeling comfortable…but he hopes you won’t take a step back when he takes one toward you, or when he reaches his hand out to touch your shirt sleeve. And then, very cautiously, your arm. Goosebumps jump up on your skin when he runs his thumb down to your elbow, but you don’t shy away. “You’re hungry…we should eat.”

“We should,” you move forward, and pull him down until you can almost reach his lips. “What did you make?”

Are you teasing him on purpose? “Spam fried rice…and eggs. I'm sure I have something sweet, if you’re in the mood.”

“That sounds good, yeah.” He’s pulled a little closer, but your lips land on the apple of his warm cheek, “sex is supposed to be better after you eat.”

/ / /

“Did we enjoy each other’s company?” Seungmin smiles to himself as he pours you more tea.

“You certainly did, considering how wrapped up in me you were that morning”

His face drops a little, “I was?”

Wrapped up is a little exaggerated, but you do tell him exactly how you woke up to him, and he blushes. “I can be a little noisy in my sleep, sorry.”

“And I was on your side of the bed, so maybe you were just migrating back to it”

He laughs, and getting that out of him feels like an accomplishment you didn’t know you needed. This version of Seungmin looks, and feels, different than any other you’ve met, but there are bits and pieces of each one still hanging on. The worry still sits in his eyes, but it’s subtle—every time he looks into yours, you can hear him wondering when you’ll leave again. He’s still nervous, just a little on edge, as if whatever he’s doing is wrong, or just not completely correct. When he asked how the food was, you told him the truth; it was perfect, and exactly what you needed, but you also told him, jokingly, that his onion chopping needed some work. He seemed to take it to heart, so it took some convincing to get his mind off of it. And whatever feelings come back when it’s time—the thing that sits on his shoulder, always seems to be there in some small way. Maybe it’s just the memory of it.

But he’s different. Seungmin did what he needed to do to feel normal for a while, and you see it. He looks at you easily, with much less intensity, and laughs a little bit louder. This must be the real Seungmin.

“I’m much more comfortable here,” Seungmin sits and hands you a mug, “and warmer.” Because you asked him to turn up the heat, and he apologized several times for not doing it sooner. “Thank you for having me again. Don’t make me regret it.”

He tilts his head to the side, and raises his eyebrows. You think you see a smile trying to tug at his lips, but he keeps it to himself, “no, I don’t want to do that. But I have a question.”

“Go ahead”

“Do you think being on top would make you more comfortable?”

“On top?” You stare at him blankly for a few beats, sip your tea. “Oh, on top. Of you. Maybe.” You keep your face neutral. He looks a little dejected, but when your eyes wander down, you can see how fast he’s getting hard, and a wave of pleasure runs all the way through you. “Won’t hurt to try.”

That’s all he needs to hear. Seungmin goes right for your waist and pulls you to your feet, “if you need me to stop…” he waits for your nod before leading you back to the bedroom.

“You changed your bedspread, you changed everything…well, almost everything.” Seungmin sees your gaze land on Daengmo. “Tell me about him later?”

He nods, sits comfortably and unbuttons his jeans, unzips them carefully, and groans when he can get them away from his erection. His sweatshirt is next, and when he gets it over his head and tosses it aside, you’re half kneeling on the bed, hem of your tshirt clenched in your fist. Seungmin laughs, and then pats his bare thigh, “right here.”

You listen, and carefully straddle him. “Oh,” you jump when his dick, still confined to his briefs, rubs against your aching clit. “Don’t tease,” you reach down and pull at the fabric.

“Not tonight,” he finishes freeing himself and rubs his head over your wet, silky entrance. “No teasing.” The groan he makes comes out so deep, and so needy, “are you ready? You feel ready.”

Two fingers slide down and up, disappearing deep inside of you, and the pressure he gives makes you whine. His free hand gently squeezes your hip, holds you still—the other slides out, “mm, yeah…so wet for me.” Before he does anything else, he brings his fingers to his mouth and sucks them clean, “I’m all yours…” and lies back on the pillow.

You’re not sure you can get him in like this, but you take him in your hand and spread yourself open, slide your knees further and further apart so there’s nowhere else to go but in. The pressure is intense, but you know how wet you are, and how wet he’s still making you as you look at his calm, smirking face.

“Yeah, that’s good,” his hips jump, but he keeps himself under control. He wants you doing all the work right now. “A little more, I know you can take it all,” he moans when you stop and pull yourself up, and then slowly slide back down, “fuck.”

Back down, little by little, and the stretch hurts until you start to move up and down, gently, working your thighs to the point of burning. But you want to take him all. You’re still all here, no panic, no overwhelming memory of what happened before. Seungmin is so content just lying there watching you, and you want this now. All of it. You slow down and relax before setting both palms against his stomach. He flexes, and you feel every muscle hold you steady; you feel his hips twitch as you take another inch…and then another. And one more, all of him, stretching you to your limit.

“Good?”

“Good,” you roll your hips and stretch yourself even more, “so good.”

Seungmin wets his thumb on his tongue and finds your clit, teases it as you start to bounce again, “fuck,” his free hand slides over yours, “fuck, I might get there first…you feel so good,” he whines and moves faster, rubbing in tight little circles as you lose yourself and start to fuck him harder.

It hurts, in the best way—you can’t stop, and you can’t slow down until you come His heavy eyes and parted lips, tongue just barely poking out of the corner of his mouth…slowly licking across his teeth, is getting you there fast. His smile grows as you stare, and he moans again, just for you, “you feel so fucking good,” he whispers, and his exaggerated whine sends you over the edge. It starts building, fast, and you need to touch more of him. Your palm slides up to his chest, over his hard nipple, and back down his side. It tickles him, you can tell, but he doesn’t miss a beat rubbing your orgasm out of you.

You move faster, fuck him harder, and let the feeling overtake you. Seungmin keeps going, and his hips start moving now, thrusting up into you with enough force to knock the air out of your lungs, but it doesn’t phase you this time.

Seungmin is loud when he comes. The bed shakes, and your body screams at you. He grips you tight, fingernails digging deep into your hips. The mess of cum starts running down your thighs and onto him. When he finally slows down, it’s because he’s out of breath, but his hips continue to move, softly, in and out.

/ / /

It was fast, but you’re exhausted. Racing heart, burning hips, and mess working its way out between your legs—you lay yourself onto the pillow and look to him. He’s still flat on his back, hands splayed across him, fingers moving against his tight stomach. His mouth is slightly parted as he catches his breath, and his eyes are closed. You take a second and try to read his mind.

But you can’t figure it out. You can’t begin to guess…you only hope he’s having good thoughts.

“Hm?” Seungmin looks at you, eyes mostly open, “did you say my name?”

“No, just looking at you”

Again, his eyes close, and you hear a quiet, exasperated what? come from him.

“What’s wrong? Seungmin?”

His hands move to cover his face, and he keeps them there as he mumbles a little to himself. You catch a word here and there, but you can't make anything of it until he finally uncovers his mouth...

"You shouldn't be here...you shouldn't be here right now"

Not again. He can't be doing this to you again, not after the trouble he just went through getting you here. "What do you mean?" Your heart is still pounding from the sex, and now it's mixing with the sick feeling in your stomach. "Seungmin?"

"What?" He sounds irritated. He looks irritated.

"You want me to...no, you don't, do you?" You sit up and pull the blankets up to your chin. The slow, uncomfortable feeling of his cum dripping out of you is making this so much worse. "No, you can't." The last part you whisper, because you don't know if you want him to hear. Your throat tightens, and your eyes water, and you think you feel him staring, but when you check, he's not.

Seungmin's eyes are closed, and his jaw is clenched tight. "Please, just leave me alone right now."

It was stupid to expect him to just be okay, but he was okay. He was himself when he brought you back, and when he made you a bath. When he cooked for you. It also seemed stupid to expect yourself to be okay, but you were, and still are. Sort of. You decide to just stop talking, tuck yourself deep into the covers, and wait for whatever this is to pass. Leaving isn't really an option for you anymore. You don't want to leave.

/ / /

A hard kick straight to your shin wakes you from your sleep. You were in deep, dreaming like before, only this time Seungmin wasn’t there. The darkness, the cold wet ground, the sound of footsteps in the mud…that was all still there—loud, desperate cries from a child, barely audible, but that sound sticks with you even after waking up. It rings in your head as the spot just below your knee throbs in pain.

“Seungmin," a gentle shake of his shoulder brings him out of his sleep, and his face relaxes almost immediately when he realizes he’s in his bed. “You didn't wanna be in that dream anymore, did you?”

He takes a few deep breaths before sitting up and rubbing at his cheeks, “was I talking?” And then he moves his hands to just below his eyes, as if he's feeling for tears, “or—”

“No, you kicked me. And you looked very unhappy.”

“Kicked you?” Seungmin folds his legs up to his chest, and he looks like a kid. A very tired, very confused kid. “Hard?”

“Hard enough, but I’m fine”

“I’m sorry”

Reading him is difficult, maybe because you’re still tired. Last night feels like it couldn’t have happened—all of it; Seungmin coming to find you, bringing you home with him…what that came after. Everything feels like a fever dream you’ve been floating through, half awake. “No, it’s okay. I was in the middle of a dream, too. Being awake is better.”

“Were you comfortable, did you sleep well?" He’s looking at your legs as they move around under the blankets, “let me see.”

“I’m okay, I promise." He clearly doesn't remember.

Seungmin nods, but pulls at the blankets anyway. He keeps pulling and reaching until you finally give in and show him your leg. “Thank you,” he touches the red spot, and the slightly broken skin.

“Do you remember last night?” You ask, and he doesn’t move, but his gaze does. “After, I mean.”

Yes, he remembers laying next to you, and trying not to doze off too fast—still so tired after so much sleep. He lost that battle, though. “Yeah, I fell asleep. I should have stayed awake with you.”

“You don’t remember talking to me before that?”

He shakes his head, and sets his warm hand over the sore spot. If he doesn't remember it, then maybe it doesn't matter. "What did I say?"

You watch his face as you speak, "uhm, you told me I shouldn't be here. And you asked me to leave you alone."

There is no change in his face, so you suspect he isn't very surprised by what he said. His hand slides down your shin, to your ankle, and then back up...very slowly. It's gentle and sweet, but something about it is unnerving at the same time. That doesn't stop a chill from running up your body, and goosebumps to run up your arms. His warm hands feel good, and when he squeezes your thigh, you have to stifle a moan.

"Don't believe everything I say"

The softness of his voice, and another squeeze of his hand almost distracts you from what he tells you. "How do I know what to believe?" You pull yourself back a little, but Seungmin's grip on your thigh tightens. "How do I know when you're telling me the truth?"

"I didn't mean that last night"

"You sounded like you meant it"

"I didn't, I promise." He pulls you closer, "look at me." He waits until you do, but whatever he's trying to say hasn't come together in his head yet. Seungmin is feeling very overwhelmed, very suddenly, and he wants to scream. He wants to squeeze your thigh until his nails dig in deep enough to break the skin. "I don't know how to make you believe me."

"Please, let go"

He looks down at the hold he has on you, and it's too much, just not quite enough to make you bleed. His grip loosens, and the mark left behind is red and angry.

"I need to go clean up"

/ / /

The strong smell of coffee comes through the bathroom door, so you know he's up, and probably out there waiting. You check the marks on your thigh. It stings, and you can see the perfect crescent shaped indentations he left behind. It could be much worse—the cool washcloth takes away most of the pain. You rinse it under warm water and clean up the mess you should've taken care of last night; the mess you really shouldn't have made at all. But you try not to think about it. You try not to think about what he just outright told you about himself. And this hold he has on you—it's not the best idea, but you shove that down for now, too.

You crack the door and peek out, take in the smell of the coffee, and head for the kitchen. Sitting on the counter is a mug, already filled, two pieces of warm toast, and a jar of plum jam.

But Seungmin isn’t here.

Cold air hits you where you’re standing, and you follow it back to his bedroom—to the slowly moving curtains covering the sliding door of the balcony. The bed is empty and made, and there’s a fresh tshirt and pair of sweatpants sitting at the corner. You’ll have to assume they’re for you, and you're thankful for them. It's freezing in here again. You change before returning to the curtains, and very carefully, very quietly, pull them aside just enough to look out.

Seungmin is sitting cross-legged on the ground, hands neatly in his lap. He’s leaning a little, so his head is resting on the wall closest to him. You know he must be cold, because he’s only in the tshirt and shorts he wore to bed, and you also know he’s out there because he wants, or needs to be alone. So you leave him alone. You return to your coffee and the breakfast he made, and you wait.

218 notes · View notes

whatsk-poppinhomies · 1 year ago

Text

Pairing : Yandere!Yang Jeongin x F!Reader TW : yandere themes ; verbal abuse ; manipulation ; small amount of physical abuse ; self harm ; attempted suicide ; blood Word Count : 2.7k Request : @slayhyunjin - can you do a yandere one for jeongin where hes like abusive and always comparing you and you try to leave or something but then he like apologizes

It was a natural reaction at this point, your body tensing up as you heard the lock click on the front door, the keys dangling as he walked through, his shoes carelessly kicked off before walking over to you. You dreaded the moment he walked through the front door, and it was strange considering not too long ago you used to wait for him to come home like a puppy waiting for their owner. The only thing that hadn’t changed was the fact that he was your owner. There was nothing that you could do without him breathing down your neck, making sure that you always abided by what he said and what he wanted. Truth be told, you were scared of him, that smile that he always wore when he was working or out with the other guys, you hadn’t seen it in months. He wasn’t the Jeongin that had won you over with his charming grin and his sweet talk, his soft touches and gentle kisses… He was just Jeongin…

“Dinner isn’t done yet?” He asked as he stood on the other side of the oven, his eyes glancing at the little clock on the microwave. You knew it wasn’t actually a question though, he was judging you once again, and as often as you went through it, no amount of time would pass that would allow you to get used to the harshness of his words when he got annoyed with you. “You know when I come home, you know what I like, and you still fail to have it done. Does your head not work? Are you stupid?”

His finger prodded roughly against your temple, and you knew better than to move away from it because it would only get worse if you did, so you stood steady, holding your breath to keep from getting choked up. “I’m sorry… The oven wouldn’t light… I had to call the landlord so he could fix it and-” A sharp smack landed across your face before rough fingers gripped your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“He?!” He shouted, his voice cracking from the force behind the simple word. “You brought another man into my house while I was at work?!” You tried to shake your head but his grip only got tighter, long fingers digging painfully into your jaw, you could have sworn it would crack. “If you have a problem you call me! If you need help you call me! What don’t you understand about that?!” He dropped his hand and you rolled your jaw, the movement only worsening the ache that you felt in the bone.

“You would have yelled at me if I called…” You mumbled, turning back to the stove and stirring the vegetables that were in the pot. “I didn’t want to bother you while you were working… I didn’t think it would be such a problem. Dinner should be done soon…” You tried to calm him down, but you knew that it was no use, he was already angry. He always seemed to be mad whenever he was around you, like your existence in general irritated him to no end. It made no sense why he stayed with you, why he refused to let you leave.

“She would have still had dinner done before I got home.” He commented, yanking back the chair at the dining room table and dropping down into it. You could feel his eyes on you, as if he enjoyed watching your reaction whenever he brought her up. You tried to not let it bother you, but the constant mention of his ex, the way he compared everything that you did to her, there was no way to ease the sting that it caused whenever she was mentioned.

“I’m sorry I’m not her.” Was all you could say as you grabbed the bowl from the cabinet, your lips tightly pursed to keep from sobbing. “Would you like a drink?” You whispered, placing his dinner in front of him and standing off to the side, waiting to serve him. You were nothing more than a servant to him, bending to his every need, giving him everything that he wanted whenever he wanted it, never asking for anything in return. Just being with him was reward enough, at least that’s what he always said, as if he were the greatest thing to ever happen to the world.

“Obviously. You make everything so fucking salty. Get me a coke or something to wash this shit down.” There was always something to complain about. No matter what you did, you did it wrong. Nothing you did was right, and there was only so much you could take. You were emotionally broken, and every single interaction with him had you feeling like you were walking on pins and needles, just waiting for the moment when something you said pissed him off and he lashed out.

You nodded, quickly going to the fridge and grabbing a can, not even attempting to open it, knowing that if even a drop splashed out of the can he would go off on you again. “I’m gonna go get the room ready for bed now…” You mumbled, your head still hanging low as you took a step back from the table, awaiting his okay for you to go. Usually he’d tell you to leave, remarking that he couldn’t stomach his dinner when he had to look at you, but now his head whipped up, his eyes narrowed at you.

“What kind of girlfriend doesn’t eat dinner with her boyfriend?” He snapped, kicking out the chair across from him and motioning towards it with his hand. “Why are you running off, huh? Are you talking to someone else? Let me see your phone.” His hand was held out, palm up and for a moment you didn’t know what to do. You didn’t know where this was coming from, but your lack of movement had him reaching into your pocket himself and yanking your phone out. “A password?” He screeched, holding up your phone so you would see it. “What are you hiding from me? Unlock it, now!”

You quickly typed in the code, backing up another step until you were against the counter. You weren’t sure why you were so nervous about him going through your phone, it’s not like you did anything on it or used it to talk to anyone but him, but the way his expression changed as he scrolled through the device had your heart racing.

“What’s this incoming call? What’s this number?” He held the phone up once again and you stared at the number, trying to figure out what it was, and the more you tried to think the more irritated he got. “Are you fucking cheating on me?! That’s why you got a password, right? Trying to hide things from me? She would have never done something like this!”

Your phone was thrown onto the floor, the glass screen shattering on impact and you had finally gotten to your breaking point, broken sobs had your body shaking. “Then why are you with me?” You muttered through shaky breaths, your hands rubbing the tears from your cheeks until your skin felt raw. “Why did you leave her if she’s so good? Why are you with me if you think I’m shit?”

He scoffed, leaning back in his chair as he smugly shoved away the bowl that you had put in front of him, the soup splashing over the sides and spilling onto the table. “I wish I knew the answer, but I’ve been regretting that choice since I got with you.” The smirk on his face, the snideness of his voice, it’s not that you weren’t used to it, you just never were able to be strong enough to not let it hurt you. Everything he did, everything he said, if his words were weapons you’d be covered in scars from how much he hurt you with them.

“I’m sorry I’m here…” You mumbled, bowing your head before going to the bedroom. It’s not like you were any safer in there, he had taken off the locks just so that you had nowhere to run, nowhere to hide when he got too angry. This was the first time he didn’t follow you into the bedroom just to berate you more, and maybe he was just building up more ammo, thinking of more things to say just to break you down a little bit more.

At one point you loved him, at one point you even loved yourself, but now it was like that feeling no longer existed in the world that you lived in. You hated him, and you found in yourself everything that he saw when he looked at you. You knew he wouldn’t let you leave, and that was the worst part. You were stuck here, stuck in this house to be tormented and tortured by him whenever he liked. You couldn’t take it anymore.

You would never be her, you would never be loved by him, and sometimes you wondered if he only got with you to try to fill the void in his life that she left when they had broken up. He didn’t actually love you, and maybe he had tried, but he realized that you just weren’t her and you never would be. All you had become was a punching bag for him to take out his frustrations on.

Starting up the water in the bathtub, you plugged the drain, watching with tears in your eyes as the water filled. Should you add bubbles, at least make the last few moments slightly relaxing? You chuckled humorlessly to yourself as you shook your head at your own suggestion. What a foolish thing to think about right now. You really were stupid, he was right. You grabbed the razor off the counter before climbing into the tub, the pajama pants that you were wearing pulling you down as they became drenched with the water.

“I’m sorry…” You whispered, staring deeply at the razor that reflected the light that hung above the mirror. So many mornings you stood in front of it, staring at your reflection, trying to find something about yourself that maybe he’d love, that you could love to give yourself some sort of reason to keep going. All you could find were dried tear streaks and welted handprints. There was nothing to love there, nothing to love here. “I’m sorry I’m here…” You repeated, your hand shaking as you brought it down to your wrist.

“Y/N…?” His voice called from outside the bathroom door, and when it opened, everything happened in a second. He rushed over to you, grabbing the wrist of your hand that held the blade, pushing it away from your other arm. “What the fuck are you doing?! What are you thinking?!” He shouted, his voice trembling as he stared at you with wide, panic filled eyes.

You struggled to push against his grasp, but you were weak, you were tired, you were just done. “Just… Let me… God… please just let me…” You shouted through your tears, water splashing over the sides of the bathtub as he tried to pull you out.

“No!” He shouted back, pinning your arm against the tile wall, his own tears falling as his head shook. “Why are you… Why are you doing this?! You’re trying to leave me! You can’t!” His hand shook your arm, trying to get you to drop the razor, but your grip around it only tightened, causing the blade to cut deep into your palm, a warm trail of blood trickling down your arm. “Fuck!” He screamed, using both hands now to try to pry your fingers open. “Stop! Please stop!”

You finally relented, although not willingly, you were just tired of the fight. The blade dropped into the bathtub as you released it, and he took the opportunity to quickly pull you out, your body falling on top of his as you both fell onto the floor. “I’m… gonna be stuck here… forever… Why? Why can’t I leave? I’m shit! I’m nothing! I’m not her! Why… Why am I here? I don’t get it!” You were crying hysterically, blood still dripping from your hand and pooling on the floor beside you.

“I…” Jeongin started, and for once, he didn’t know what to say. For once, for the first time since you could remember, he wasn’t belittling you, he wasn’t yelling at you. He was crying. He was scared. “You’re… You’re not shit… I… I’m sorry… I’m… I’m shit…” He stammered out the words, his hands shaking as he reached out for your face and you instinctively flinched away from him, causing him to gasp softly as his hands dropped down to his lap. “Oh god… What did I do… What do I do? Let me… let me help…” He looked down at your hand, his body trembling with silent sobs.

“Why?” You whispered, hugging yourself tightly as you backed up against the wall, your knees pulled against your chest. “So you can yell at me… So you can hit me again? So you can tell me how stupid I am? So you can tell me that she’s never done something like this before? I’m sure she didn’t… Because you loved her… Because you wanted to be with her…” You sniffled loudly, looking back at the tub, the blade at the bottom of it catching the light still. His eyes followed yours and he quickly got into your line of sight.

“I’m awful… And I’m sorry… I’m sorry I made you feel like… like you had to do this… like this was the only way…” He whispered, his lips trembling as he spoke. “I broke you… And I know that saying sorry isn’t going to fix it… It’s not going to fix you. You’re not stupid… and… and I don’t know why I’m like this. I don’t know why… I just… I want to keep you with me so bad… I’m scared you’re going to leave me… And… And that makes no fucking sense but… I don’t want to lose you… I don’t. I… I love you, and I don’t say it often enough… I don’t say it at all, but I do. You’re beautiful and… and you deserve so much better but… I don’t want anyone else to give you that. I want to be better… for you… You deserve the best of me, and… and I’ll give you that… I swear I will… Please… Don’t do this to me…” He fell forward, his forehead resting against your knees. It was the first contact you’ve had with him that didn’t hurt. It was shocking, it almost felt unnatural… Awkward even. “I’ve never been so scared… Don’t leave me… Please don’t leave me. I need you…” His head slowly lifted, his cheeks red, blotchy and tear coated, and as you stared at him, he slowly leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours, the action causing you to gasp and pull back as your eyes widened. “What…?”

“You… You never kiss me…” You stammed, eyes wavering before dropping your head back down. “I don’t… I don’t want you to do that again… I don’t want to feel like… Like things will be okay… And then they’re not. Please… Don’t… Don’t touch me… Don’t…”

You quickly pushed yourself up off the floor, running into the bedroom and pulling out the first aid kit from under the bed as he watched you, still sitting in the middle of the bathroom. It was his turn to cry, his turn to feel unwanted and useless. It was his turn to feel like shit, to feel like everything in the world was falling apart around him. He felt hopeless, he felt lost. There was nothing he could do but watch… You wanted nothing to do with him. Now it was his turn to be on pins and needles, but it was deserved, and seeing you in the bathtub had been a wake up call for him, and those pins and those needles would keep him awake, eyes wide enough to appreciate the woman in his life that he loved and adored, that he took for granted, that he hurt… The woman that he almost lost for good.

694 notes · View notes

savvthedate · 13 days ago

Text

Heart.exe

Yandere!Videogamecharacter!Jeongin x Reader

WARNINGS: NONE tbh

Authors note; I don't like how this turned out so I will post a revision based on how well this goes, this will also be a series

--------------------------------------------------------------

It's finally here

You felt like you waited years for this. You were practically getting ready to jump up and scream when the cashier scanned and bagged your new game "New California". This game has been everywhere except in your hands for months, you had heard nothing bad about the game. Your gammer heart wanted it the moment you looked at the insane graphics but you basically learned for it after you read the wiki for the plot, the game revolved around a young Mafia boss, overcoming rivals, assassins, and convictions, all in order to build his new California.

"$55.99"

You snapped back into reality with the help of the cashier. You paid him and in such a good mood told him to keep the change.

Once you got home you bathed, ate, and changed your clothes, but not of course to go to bed, but to spend (what you hoped to be) a few hours playung your new game. You unpacked it, places in the disc, and finally you joyfully listened to the opening theme. You had to admit it wasnt your favorite as it was a little to upbeat than what you had heard about the game.

You signed in and clicked start, but you didn't enter the game without checking your settings first; Graphics - uncensored, realistic reactions - On, Sound - On. 'Realistic reactions?' you thought, you don't recallel ever seeing this setting but then you quickly brushed it off by thing it had something to do with the characters reaction time.

You were in. Finally. For the first few minutes you sat through the backstory of the main character, Jeongin. As a child he was left in an orphanage and then later adopted by someone with ties to the Mafia, after marrying the dons daughter and getting rid of her and her father he became the head of the family, he talks several times in his dialogue about how he wants to change California for the sake of all others that were in his situation, lost and desperate for the love they lack. And you could say that honestly his backstory didn't excite you in the slightest, it all just sounded like a ramble.

After the long dialogue you were put on your first mission. In this particular cut scene detailing the mission, Jeongin had been programmed to stare at the monster screen for a certain anount of time to boost the illusion of him being real. After talking on his phone he had his eye and glared at the monitor. However you couldn't tell if it was the realistic reactions setting or not but you could have sworn he was looking directly into your eyes, and in a way that didn't seem programed, the conversation he just had had left him upset and tense, but in his eyes he almosted looked calm.

You thought it was weird to say the least but you didn't mind it.

Things just kept getting stranger in the actual play through. At times Jeongin would go off course or he would just refuse his missions several times. Weirdest of all were the catchphrases, he would say things like "you'll be mine soon enough" "You won't be able to resist". You tried to brush this off as planned or just as a glitch, after all your mission was to collect the money the local deli owed.

After awhile you decided to go to bed, but not without pausing the game. After you did your attention immediately drawn to the the pause screen, it was him. The screen showed Jeongin sitting at a wide desk, every couple of minutes he said a random phrase. You would be lying if you said you didn't find it cool, so cool in fact that you kept the monitor on all night, the coviently placed monitor that sat right across from your bed.

While you slept away, Jeongin, as alive as hell ever be, watched. He had been stuck in this world for way to long he thought. He couldn't help but walk of screen to grab his charging phone and snap a photo. How could he be in love with you it's only been a day. As the night progresses Jeongin constantly mumbles to himself about how he can't wait to get into the real world, to finally be with his love once more. He smiles to himself as he watches, he breaks his smile briefly to look at the photo of his now deceased wife, the one who looks exactly like you, the one who he was now convinced must have escaped from him into this world. Just as fast as he noticed it he slammed the frame and the photo on the desk faced down.

#yandere!skz #yandere!Jeongin #i.n skz #i.n x reader #skz x reader #skz fanfic #stary kids #skz

13 notes · View notes

linos-luna · 2 months ago

Text

Cameras 🔪

Yandere!Han x Reader

Warnings: YANDERE, violence, toxic behavior, manipulation, spying, 18+

———————————————— •

You sit at your desk, staring down at the open notebook, your fingers tracing its edges, but your mind is somewhere else. The house is quiet, a little too quiet, and that familiar, uneasy feeling creeps over you again. Lately, it’s like someone’s been watching you, even when you’re sure you’re alone.

You try to shake it off, just like you’ve done every other time, telling yourself it’s nothing. But deep down, you know it’s not just paranoia. The little things have been adding up. Your stuff is always out of place, your jewelry box lid half open, a photo frame slightly crooked. And Han… well, you had mentioned it to him once, but he brushed it off.

"You're stressed, Y/N," he had said with that charming smile. "You need to relax."

That smile you love. Now it just feels off.

Your eyes drift to your bedside lamp. Something flashes, just for a second, but you see it. You sit up, heart skipping a beat as you reach for the lamp. Unscrewing the lampshade, you freeze when you see it. A tiny, blinking red light. A camera.

What the hell??

Your pulse quickens as you stare at the small device in your hand. Why is there a camera here? Who put it here?

But you already know. You just don’t want to believe it.

Your breath comes in short gasps as you tear through your room. Behind the framed pictures, inside the air vents, even inside your stuffed bear. More cameras. Everywhere.

You feel sick. How long has this been happening? How much has Han seen?

Without thinking, you grab your phone and dial Han. The anger in your voice barely masks the fear. “Han, we need to talk. Now.”

It doesn’t take him long to show up. His face is full of concern—or is it something darker? You can’t tell anymore.

“What’s going on?” he asks, stepping inside like nothing’s wrong. Like he hasn’t been invading every second of your life.

You hold up the camera, your hand trembling. “Why are there cameras in my room?”

For a split second, something flickers in his eyes. And then, just like that, his mask drops. The concern fades, and what’s left makes your stomach twist.

“I did it to protect you,” he says softly, stepping closer. “You don’t understand. I need to know you’re safe.”

Your breath hitches in your throat. You want to scream, to cry, but all that comes out is cold, hard disbelief. "This isn’t protection, Han. This is control."

His eyes darken, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "You don’t get to walk away from me."

Your body tenses as he steps closer, too close. His hand shoots out, grabbing your wrist before you can react. Pain surges through your arm as his grip tightens.

“You’re mine, Y/N,” he growls, his breath hot against your face. “No one else will take care of you like I do. You don’t get to leave me.”

A wave of panic crashes over you, but underneath it, anger is building. You twist your wrist, trying to pull free, but his grip only tightens. The pressure makes your vision blur with tears.

“No, Han…” Your voice trembling with fury. “Y-you’re sick!”

Without thinking, you drive your knee up into his stomach, hard.

He lets out a grunt, doubling over just enough for you to yank your arm free. You stumble back, heart pounding, adrenaline flooding your system. But then Han straightens, his face twisting with rage.

Before you can react, his hand swings out, slapping you across the cheek. Pain stinging in your face, knocking you off balance. You crash into the dresser, books and other nicknacks scattering to the floor. Tears rolled down your cheeks as you whimpered a bit in pain.

He’s standing over you now, breathing heavily, his fists clenched, but then something shifts in his expression. His eyes soften, a flicker of regret passing over his face as he takes in your terrified look.

“Baby, I’m sorry!” Han pleads, his voice breaking. “Don’t cry, please! I-I didn’t mean to hurt you!”

The room spins as you force yourself up, your legs trembling beneath you. Your hand brushes against the dresser, and you grab the nearest thing, a heavy lamp. Without a second thought, you throw it at him.

It misses, crashing into the wall behind him, but Han still flinches, staggering back as he dodges. His eyes widen, and for a moment, you see hurt flicker there.

“Y/N? W-why are you trying to hurt me?” His voice trembles, and you pause, your heart pounding in your chest.

“You’re the one getting violent!” you shout, the words tearing from your throat.

For a split second, he looks like he’s about to cry, and something inside you twists painfully. He just stands there, staring at you with those sad, broken eyes, making your heart ache.

He’s manipulating you. You know it, you *know* it, but that pang of guilt creeps in anyway. You have to shake it off.

“Stop it, Han. It’s not working. Not this time.”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, the softness drains from his face. The mask drops, revealing the cold, eerie calm underneath.

“Y/N…” he says, his voice unnervingly steady. “You know I love you. Everything I do is because I love you.” He takes a step closer, his eyes darkening. “And I’ll do anything for you.”

Han’s words hang in the air, thick and suffocating. His eerie calm sends a chill down your spine, but your legs won’t move. His eyes bore into yours, dark and unwavering, and you realize with a sickening jolt that there’s no reasoning with him. He’s beyond that now.

You back up slowly, your heart pounding in your chest. “Han… stay away from me.”

But he doesn’t listen. Instead, he takes another step toward you, his voice lowering into something soft, almost tender. “I’m the only one who can protect you, Y/N. Don’t you see? No one else will love you the way I do.”

You feel the wall press against your back, cold and unyielding. There’s nowhere else to go.

“Please, Han,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “Don’t do this.”

For a moment, his face softens again, but you know it’s a lie, just like before. He closes the distance between you in two long strides, grabbing your arms and pinning you against the wall. His grip is bruising, his breath hot and uneven as he leans in, his eyes glinting with something dangerous.

“Why can’t you just be mine?” he whispers harshly, his fingers digging into your skin. “Why do you have to make this so hard?”

Panic surges through you, but your body feels frozen. You struggle against his hold, but he’s too strong. His hands move to your throat, not tightening, but just enough to make you realize how helpless you are in that moment.

Your vision blurs with tears as you gasp for air, your body trembling under his hold. This is it, you think. It’s the end. You close your eyes in defeat, bracing for the inevitable as his hands apply light pressure to your throat.

But then, just as quickly as it started, the pressure eases. You blink in confusion, feeling his grip loosen. When you open your eyes, Han’s expression has changed… his face etched with guilt, sadness pooling in his eyes.

“Baby…” he whispers softly, his hands still hovering at your throat, but no longer squeezing.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you watch him look down at his own hands, as if seeing them for the first time. Tears start to roll down his cheeks, silent and slow, before he suddenly pulls you into a tight embrace.

“I-I’m sorry…” he sobs, his voice breaking.

His arms wrap around you, almost crushing you against him, and the sudden shift feels jarring. You can hear him weeping, his breath catching between sobs. The warmth of his body, the way he clings to you, it's so different from the rage that had consumed him moments ago.

You stand frozen, your body still shaking, unsure of what to do. Was this another trick? Another way to manipulate you, to pull you back into his control? Or… was he actually genuine this time?

It was hard to tell, and that terrified you the most...

#kpop #kpop x reader #fanfic #kpop imagines #stray kids #skz x reader #stray kids x poc reader #stray kids yandere #yandere skz #skz yandere #skz han jisung #yandere han #yandere han jisung #stray kids han #kpop yandere #yandere stray kids #stray kids angst #han jisung x poc reader

247 notes · View notes

dean-a-mean-tae · 11 months ago

Text

Stray Kids as Yanderes

Request: "You have yandere on your event and masterlist so would you do skz as yanderes? I know you only do soft yandere and thats fine"

WARNINGS: Obsessive behavior, Murder, Mention of suicide, Toxic relationship, Drugging, Manipulation, Humiliation, Claustrophobic issues, basements, blood, tied to a ceiling (not the reader), mention of kidnapping, delusional mindset, mental abuse, self-harm, cussing, suggestive? talking about kissing, Stalking, I think that's it

I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU CHOOSE TO READ! You DO NOT have my permission to repost my work anywhere.

A/N: I wanted to expand on their jealousy, but this is already long enough. I struggled with Jisung so much! >:[ I WROTE THIS AT 2 AM WITH NOTHING BUT DORITOS AND COUGH MEDICINE IN MY SYSTEM!

Master list

*.·:·BANG CHAN

Type: Manipulative Violence: 50-100% Possessive: 86% Jealousy: 65%

Punishments: Manipulation

The relationship looks normal at first glance. Chan takes care of you, but not so much that it feels like you're dependent on him. He lets you talk to people and leave the house. He waited until you were ready before moving you into his home, and he still waited.

You were cozy in the Venus flytrap, and its jaws were slowly closing.

He'd pick your friends off one by one. Chan starts with the acquaintances. They're not close to you, so it shouldn't hurt that much for them to leave you. He puts wedges between you and anyone trying to separate you. Your friend who had a crush on you is gone.

Chan is a dangerous yandere because of his awareness. He knows what he's doing is unhealthy and probably immoral, but he wants you. Chan needs you.

I don't think Chan would really have a punishment for you.

He'd just be doing the same thing he's been doing. He'll guilt trip you into feeling bad for lashing out. You think Chan is too possessive? You're right, but can you blame him? Anyone who looks at you would want to eat you like a snack and take you home with them for leftovers. He's just being cautious.

The jaws are shut, but something is stopping you from panicking.

*.·:·LEE MINHO

Type: Possessive Controlling Violence: 56-97% Possessive: 100% Jealousy: 100%

Punishments: Isolation and Drugging Humiliation

Minho is yours out of courtesy. You are Minho's because he wants you. There is a difference. As soon as you learn it, everything will be easier for Minho for you.

As seen in this post, Minho likes to play with you. It doesn't matter if you don't want to play, he wants to play, and you will. If he can see the exhaustion in your eyes, then Minho will let you rest. Hope that he can see it. Hope, pray, do whatever.

The more "tired" you act, the less likely Minho is to give you a break. In a way, he wants you to break. How else will Minho know what not to do?

You're moving sluggish? Then we're moving around. You're about to fall asleep? Have this melatonin gummy that's actually an energy booster. Minho wants you to break so he can fix you.

If you start lashing out, Minho will make you more compliant. He'll slip it into your drink or your food. Depending on how exhausted you are, will depict how much he gives you. Minho doesn't want to kill you. He'd not let anyone else have you, not even death.

If you go, Minho goes. You are his, and you can't leave.

When you're delirious, he locks you in a room. Not your bedroom, of course. Minho wants that room to be a safe space for you. He'll lock you in the hallway closet if you're claustrophobic. Or he'll stick you in the basement with the lights off. Of course, you're in a concealed room, so nothing can get you, but you can't see that.

I'm a firm believer that Minho would humiliate you as punishment. He'll finally take you out of the house. He'll pick your outfit himself, and when you come downstairs and question his outfit, he waves you off. "I want the attention to be on you."

And it will be. What were you thinking about wearing colors to an all-black event? Why are you off the theme?

*.·:·SEO CHANGBIN

Type: Protective Violence: 75-95% (Never to you) Possessive: 100% Jealousy: 12%

Punishments: Isolation

Sure, your happiness is important, but your safety is Changbin's top priority. You need to be healthy and protected. If this means killing someone disturbing your peace, then that's okay. If Changbin is causing you distress, he'll isolate the both of you for a break. Then it's back to being stuck together.

If you let him, Changbin will take care of you. He'll feed you, he'll bathe you, and he'll dress you. He will do everything for you until you tell him to stop, and even then, Changbin will push those limits.

Changbin's possessiveness is laced in his need to keep you safe. He would love for you to live your life. But why can't you live your life in the safety of his arms?

You think he's harming you? Well, imagine everyone else. What if he wasn't there? They're worse than him. They have no regard for your being, and Changbin knows this.

He's certain of it.

Your punishment is Changbin's dream. He'll lock you up in a room where you can't be hurt. Where you're safe. Where else is better for you?

Changbin who hides the number of lives he's taking to "keep you safe." He's certain your mind won't be able to handle it. You can barely look at the news about their deaths. So imagine finding out they're tied to you?

*.·:·HWANG HYUNJIN

Type: Delusional Violence: 5% (Unintentional) Possessive: 98% Jealousy: 79-100%

Punishments: Isolation

You need him, and Hyunjin needs you. It's a fact, and you can't go against a fact. Well, you can, but you would be wrong. You and Hyunjin were meant to be. You were together in past lives. You will be together in future lives. In all timelines, you are together.

But Hyunjin is in this timeline, in the present, and he wants you now.

Hyunjin doesn't just love you. Hyunjin knows he is in love with you. He needs you like his lungs need air, how his heart needs blood. How the trees need our breath. But you don't want him? No, you're just confused.

And if not? Hyunjin will wait for the next life.

But in this life? Hyunjin doesn't mind ending it early. His body will be in the ground, his soul in the stars, and his breath in the sky. You have no choice but to be with him.

When you walk, your feet touch the ground Hyunjin's body is in. When you breathe, you inhale his air. When you cherish the stars in the sky, they sparkle and shine for you. They are his soul and past lives shining on you.

Hyunjin would never hurt you on purpose. He has no issues with locking you up if it means keeping you in check and him from lashing out at you.

"I will never hurt you. People don't harm who they love," Hyunjin tells you. He tells you this as he locks you in a room with a see-through door. Ironic coming from him, but at least you don't have to worry about him hurting you.

Hyunjin has no issues with giving you time. Time with him, but still time to realize that you are meant to be.

Hyunjin who is overjoyed when you finally return his feelings. Who is overjoyed when the Stockholm syndrome hits.

*.·:·HAN JISUNG

(I had to let him marinate cause this was pissing me off ;-;)

Type: Quiet One Violence: 76-100% Possessive: Jealousy:

Punishments: Murder (not you)

Jisung is the type with earbuds on and scrolling on his phone to make the act believable. He's not listening to anything, but no one knows that. Jisung is eavesdropping on your conversation.

Jisung watches from the shadows. He leans against walls, tucks himself into corners, and hides in plain sight. Jisung needs to know everything about you.

Jisung takes your lost pencils, favorite candy wrapper, and anything you thought you "lost." Jisung who puts your things on the shrine in his basement.

Jisung finds everything about your family and friends. He finds out their habits and their tales. What makes them tick? How can he get them to put in a good word for him? Jisung, who fakes a smile for your love.

Jisung trains himself to be around you. He sneaks into your room and stands as close to you as he can without becoming a mess. He walks a little ways away from you and shortens the distance as he progresses. Jisung who hides his obsession out of fear of losing you.

Jisung who wouldn't hurt a fly, repeatedly stabs the person stealing you. His heart is steady, his face his blank, and his body doesn't tremble. Jisung who kills those who harm you, even those you don't know.

*.·:·LEE FELIX

Type: Clingy Violence: 0% Possessive: 79-100% Jealousy: I don't know

Punishments: Manipulation

This relationship starts normal, but the longer you stay with Felix, the more his obsession progresses. It's a little hard for him to breathe without you, like running for miles with asthma and no inhaler.

Felix would never hurt anyone. You don't know that, though. Felix doesn't like death, and Felix doesn't want to hurt you in any way. Not truly, so Felix gives threats. Behave, or he'll kill *blank*. Stop acting out, or he'll take *blank* out.

If you ever call his bluff, he'll get fake blood and a dead body. Felix will stage the act. You come home, and it's peaceful until you hear noise from the basement. What's that red stuff on the counter?

When you get downstairs, there's blood everywhere, and your best friend hangs by their wrists from their ceiling. When you try to run, Felix, covered in blood, is in the doorway. He knocks you out, and you wake up in your bed.

Felix is scared out of his sleep by your panicked breaths. When you tell him of your "nightmare," his eyes will dull, and he'll look near lifeless. Your phone rings before you can question him, and it's your best friend. As you're talking to them, you glance at Felix, but he's back to normal.

Felix who kisses your cheek and wishes you a good morning before taking a shower. While he's in the bathroom, you check the kitchen and the basement, but everything is normal. When you get back upstairs, Felix is plaiting the table with your favorite breakfast food.

"Did you find what you were looking for?" Felix's face is concerned, but his tone is knowing.

*.·:·KIM SEUNGMIN

Type: Laidback Violence: 26% Possessive: Discreetly at 75% Jealousy: I'm conflicted

Punishment: Taking things from you

Seungmin doesn't want you stressing at all. If you have a problem, he'll fix it. Kidnapping you is too much work, so you won't have to worry about that. Seungmin will let you see your friends and family, and let you go out without him.

He knows you would never leave him.

As an idol, Seungmin can get people to watch you when he's not with you. As a person with "normal" status, he finds a way to convince your friends that you have a stalker and he just wants updates on your safety.

They'll send discreet pictures of you so you aren't panicking. They're trying to keep you safe. What if your stalker is watching you now? Seungmin wouldn't lie about your safety. He loves you, and they know it.

You're starting to sneak around? He'll find out why you're sneaking. If it isn't a surprise for him then you have no business creeping around. He should know everything. You should willingly tell Seungmin everything, or at least make it easy for him to find out himself.

Seungmin's punishments start small. It starts with your passions. You like art? Your pencils are snapped, and your paints have been left with the caps off. You make music? Your instruments are locked away or smashed to pieces. Seungmin won't break something of sentimental value. Your studio is locked with everything inside it.

Maybe you like books? If he has to, Seungmin will go through your favorite book and fold the corners. He'll crease the spines of your books and lock them away so that when you get them back, they're messed up.

You read online? You have a Kindle or an app on your phone? That's fine. Your library is cleared out, and he'll start a new book just to make sure there isn't a "Start where you left off" option.

Seungmin isn't evil. He'll make a list of all the books in your library, online or on a shelf, and keep perfect copies. He'll buy you new paints or get you new instruments.

Seungmin who will send a picture of you with your family if you run away. "I hope nothing bad happens to them while you're gone."

*.·:·YANG JEONGIN

Type: Obsessive Violence: Depends Possessive: 50-95% Jealousy: 76%

Punishment: Isolation, self-harm,

You're all he can think about. Jeongin depends on you. He can't eat, his sleep schedule is nonexistent, and he hasn't been outside unless you bring him.

Tell him to give you space, and Jeongin will hand it to you. He'll be fucking miserable, but he'll give you all the space and time you need. When you finally come back to him, kiss him long and slow or fast and intense.

Jeongin doesn't care. He wants you to be stuck to him like glue until you get sick of him and need a break.

Jeongin is fragile. His world revolves around you. You are the sun that brightens his day and the moon that guides him in the night. Lashing out at him about anything is a direct blow to his heart and soul.

You yelling at Jeongin. = You hate Jeongin.

He can't live while you hate him. He lives to please you. If you hate him, then Jeongin has failed you. Failing you means he failed himself, and life is too good for failure as bad as this.

Jeongin who tells you with a blank face but love-filled eyes that he would die for your love. Jeongin who will proudly show you each scar as punishment for making you "hate" him.

843 notes · View notes

hanjisick · 8 months ago

Text

chemical infatuation

genre. yandere au. patient!jisung x researcher!reader

desc. jisung takes part in a high-paying yet sketchy study with seemingly no risks, but the injection causes him to quickly grow obsessed with the daytime staff member assigned to his study.

warnings. needles. vomit. murder.

wc. 3.5k

“is it a bad time to tell you that i’m a little claustrophobic?” your patient, han jisung, nervously shifted in his seat, fiddling with the hem of his sweater.

“we have to keep you in this containment during our research.“

the containment room, with its dim lighting and cushioned walls, seemed to close in on him. the dimensions felt constricting, heightening the anxiety surging through his veins.

every inch of the space was under surveillance, every move to be meticulously scrutinized by the watchful eyes of researchers.

what a sketchy situation. but it was better than he had expected from a craigslist ad that he had chanced upon.

the snap of your rubber gloves pulled him away from his thoughts, “it isn’t too late to back out, we have a few more candidates willing to take your place.”

500 million won. that was enough for him to do anything.

“i’m fine. i’m ready.”

“alright then, pull your arm out of your sweater for me.”

“i have a tank top underneath.” the boy shuffled out of the sweater and placed it onto his lap.

“and as the paperwork says, you have no allergies, anaphylaxis, or any history of mental illness?”

“nope.”

he flinched as the cool alcohol pad met his bicep.

“the medication we are testing for you should not hurt you much as far as we are concerned,” you began prepping the needle and syringe, “the only side effects that we predict could be a minor headache for a couple of days. it is not dangerous.”

jisung closed his eyes as you squeezed his arm slightly, pushing the needle through his skin.

you gently placed the gauze onto his arm, “finished. how do you feel immediately?”

“normal. a little shaken up from nerves, but no problems. what do i do now?”

“you’ll be watched for a month. the only restrictions are that you aren’t allowed to leave this room or use any devices.”

the idea of isolation and confinement weighed a bit heavily on him, but he was determined to see it through.

you motion towards the mattress in the corner, “we will change your bedding twice throughout the month. let us know if you are uncomfortable with the temperature of the room, need extra bedding, or anything else.”

jisung nodded.

“let us know if you need to use the bathroom and we will temporarily disable the cameras for your privacy. but we will take urine samples if we deem it necessary.”

“and what about food?”

“you’ll be fed three meals per day, with two snacks.”

“thank you. that’s all i need to know,” he paused for a moment, “other than your name. what’s your name?”

“y/n l/n,” you gather your paperwork, “your personal belongings will be returned once we go through to make sure there is nothing that could alter our research.”

the door had closed and locked, leaving jisung alone in the room with just his thoughts to keep him company until his stuff was given back to him.

Beginning Notes

Han Jisung (Male)

23 years old, no known medical problems

Acterenol, Administered 16:38, 5/17/25.

Intramuscular, Upper Arm

Notes: Jisung feels nervous about receiving the injection. Administered at 16:38 with no noted side effects.

you watched the boy through the array of cameras placed strategically throughout the room as he lay on the mattress. his sweater was haphazardly discarded across the room, a seemingly small attempt to make himself more comfortable in the sterile, plain environment.

despite the initial nerves of a new medication, nothing had seemed to happen. at the fifteen-minute mark, you stepped away from the cameras for a moment— if there were to be a severe sudden reaction, it would have manifested by now, you reasoned.

throughout your shift, your attention continued to drift back to the screens displaying jisung’s every move. with each glance, you found him engaged in various activities—doodling, writing in a journal, or simply staring off into space, lost in thought.

nothing seemed to go wrong. perhaps this medication would be approved.

Overnight Notes

Han Jisung (Male)

23 years old, no known medical problems

Acterenol, Administered 16:38, 5/17/25.

Intramuscular, Upper Arm

Notes: Jisung ate all of dinner and requested night snacks. He had slept well. No side effects were recorded.

you press the bright red button, lowering your mouth to the microphone.

“how is everything down there? any side effects?”

“y/n? is that you speaking?”

“yes,” you were surprised that the boy had remembered your name, “what are your symptoms?”

“you should come into the room to speak with me. i’m lonely here.”

“i have to record your symptoms. i can’t come down there unless i know that you’re stable.”

the microphone had only barely picked up his sigh. “i’m normal.”

“any headaches? dizziness? dry throat?”

“nope. nothing. everything’s fine. just lonely.”

you sigh. he seemed normal. he was lying in bed, staring up at one of the cameras.

so it was fine, right?

you push open the door, greeted by the grinning patient on his mattress.

“you smell nice. what products do you use?”

what an odd conversation starter. “nothing special. just a lavender-scented body wash.”

he nods. “the overnight staff were fine, but i think that i prefer you. i can’t put my finger on it quite yet.”

was jisung naturally this blunt with his words? or was he flirting with you?

“what do you plan to do during your stay here?”

he leans back against the cushioned wall, “i compose songs for artists. i figured that it would be easy to get a lot of work done in here.”

“i see. is that your songwriting journal then?” you eye the small black book and pen next to him.

he takes the pen into his hand, “yup. it’s one of the few things that i brought here.”

“you’ll have to show me some of your work sometime throughout the month.”

“you can look at my work now,” he grins, clicking the pen, “my name is HAN. look me up.”

the name stays in your mind as you exit the room and lock the door. you find your way back to your seat at the cameras to supervise the man, pulling your lunch out of your back.

one hand holds a sandwich as the other browses through safari, looking at the songs that your patient had composed.

you hadn’t heard any of them, but perhaps it would be a good idea to look into the lyrics. it would give you things to talk about with him for the following month.

the rest of the shift was boring. you watched as he wrote in his notebook, ate his food, hummed to himself— nothing interesting.

the most intriguing thing that you experienced was the occasional ‘help!’ button being pressed, only for the man to announce that he needed to take a piss.

your misery was ended once your coworker entered the room, placing his keys and bag down on the table.

a sigh of relief left you, “thank god. it’s so boring.”

“thanks for the warning.”

Overnight Notes

Han Jisung (Male)

23 years old, no known medical problems

Acterenol, Administered 16:38, 5/17/25.

Intramuscular, Upper Arm

Notes: Jisung ate all of dinner and requested no night snack. Awoke at 01:00 and 03:00. Specified no reason for waking. Special request for morning staff: Deliver lavender-scented body wash.

your eyes stared down at the note with slightly widened eyes.

perhaps he had good intentions, perhaps your defenses were just too high. after all, he might just like the scent of lavender like you did.

“good morning. any headaches? dizziness? dry throat?”

“my arm is a little sore, and i’m a bit restless, but that is all.”

you record his answers— finally something to write down.

“i saw your request from last night. i’ll get a staff member to deliver your body wash. did you run out? i’m sure we gave you enough.”

“i still have some. i just wanted to try yours out.”

how strange.

“you’re coming down to see me today, right?”

“not today. i want to see if your symptoms worsen throughout the day. it’s best to be careful.”

you watch through the camera as he slumps back, visibly disappointed.

today, the boy had begun to act a little bit differently. every couple of minutes, he would stop his writing to look up at the camera.

you would hold eye contact with him for a few moments, even though he couldn’t see you before he would look back down again with a large grin that wasn’t on his face before.

soon, the bottle of body wash was delivered to his room.

“y/n! is that you?” he jumped out of bed as the lock clicked, only to be disappointed to see a man in a mask and gloves leave it right inside of the door.

he crept towards the bottle, snapping the lid off, holding it up to his nose, then inhaling deeply.

“it smells like you.”

you clenched your teeth, writing down the reactions.

walking over towards the center of the room, he peeled his t-shirt off his frame, then pulled down his sweatpants and boxers in one go.

you shrieked, slamming the buttons to disable the camera.

he was supposed to tell you when he needed privacy.

with shaky hands, you began to jot down his behaviors.

once ten minutes had passed, you turned the camera back on in hopes that he was decent again. this time, you had enabled the camera with caution, only to see that he was showering.

you disable it once again and decide that this would be a good time to have lunch.

the image of the naked man was etched into your mind as you tried to force the salad down your throat.

it was a good thirty minutes until you got the courage to turn the camera back on, sighing in relief as you saw him on his bed with sweatpants on once again.

jisung stared up at the ceiling with hooded eyes, chest rising and falling— you weren’t sure what was going through his mind.

you press the button. “everything alright in there?”

he perked up, “y/n, everything is just fine. i wish you were in here, though, instead of behind that stupid camera.”

you bite your lip uncomfortably, unsure of how to respond.

changing the subject would be best.

“lunch will be delivered soon.”

“good. i’m a bit hungry.”

you take your finger off of the button, sitting back in your seat, waiting for your shift to be over.

Overnight Notes

Han Jisung (Male)

23 years old, no known medical problems

Acterenol, Administered 16:38, 5/17/25.

Intramuscular, Upper Arm

Notes: Jisung ate most of dinner and requested no night snack. Had difficulty falling and staying asleep. Awoke many times to journal. Refused conversation about his symptoms.

“y/n? you’re here, right? right?”

you had only just opened the door to the surveillance room, met with his muffled voice through the speakers.

“y/n? y/n? baby? my beautiful doll?”

the nickname caught you off guard, breath caught in your throat.

before answering, you grabbed the pen off the desk to jot down the behavior. this was not normal.

he stared directly into the camera. “i know you’re here. i journaled the minutes until he would leave and you would replace him.”

your legs shook as you took a seat.

why were you so nervous? it wasn’t like you were in danger. the door was locked. his body language did not seem hostile.

but his eyes told a different story. they were dark, crazed, restless.

“doll? can you hear me? can you hear me?”

your voice stuttered, “what are your symptoms?”

“i missed your voice, y/n.”

“any headaches? dizziness? dry throat?”

“none,” jisung answered quickly, “so you can come down and see me, right?”

you lied through your teeth. “not today. we are still a bit worried about yesterday’s symptoms.”

“fuck!” his forehead hit against the wall.

you took your finger away from the button.

he balled his hand into a fist before hurling it towards the same wall.

jisung crumbles to the floor. “i can’t take it anymore.”

“are you alright? are you in pain? do you need help?” you grasp your pen with an unsteady hand, “tell me what’s going on. talk to me.”

“i need to see you again, i waited all night just for you to tell me no.”

“it’s for the safety of you and myself.”

his voice was barely above a raspy whisper, “i promise i won’t hurt you, i’d never hurt you. i couldn’t hurt you.”

“jisung,” you started sternly, “i’m unable to see you. please abide by the rules of the study.”

“can’t i quit?”

“you signed a form stating that unless there is a medical emergency, you aren’t to leave this room. i’m quite not sure that you’re in your right state of mind right now.”

“i would be fine if you’d let me see you again.”

it was pointless to argue with the man, so you let go of the button, jotting down the conversation.

jisung did not eat, speak, or move from his spot that day.

Overnight Notes

Han Jisung (Male)

23 years old, no known medical problems

Acterenol, Administered 16:38, 5/17/25.

Intramuscular, Upper Arm

Notes: Jisung ate no dinner and requested no night snack. Did not sleep through the night. Refused conversation.

“doll, you’re back.” his raspy voice announced your presence just as you opened the door as if he was in the room with you.

on the camera, he was spread out in the middle of the floor like a starfish. his blonde hair covered his face, but you could still see the eye bags forming under his sunken eyes.

“i have a bit of a headache. i’m dizzy. my throat is dry,” he answered your questions for you, “will i get to see you today, doll?”

you were a bit afraid to answer, hesitating as you pressed the button, “i’m sorry. no.”

“but i will be able to see you after the study, right? after the study you’ll marry me, right?”

your heart dropped into your stomach at the words.

“i have a partner, jisung.”

“i know,” he smiled lightly, “it’s me. but soon i’ll be your husband, right?”

this was too much. you felt sick. you needed to alert the rest of the team and let someone else take over this case. hell, you might even quit your job.

“imagine you as han y/n. it sounds beautiful, doesn’t it?”

his crazed voice rang through your ears as you stood up from your seat.

“nobody else has ever made me feel this way, do you know that? all i want is you. and i’ve only seen you twice. isn’t that absurd? love is just so beautiful.”

his words caused you to still. you felt like a deer in headlights.

“do you think the shot is what made me crazy? because ever since we met eyes after you gave it to me, i couldn’t stop thinking about you. about your touch, even through the gloves. all of my songs have been about you. i even drew you.”

waves of nausea came crashing down on you.

“i can’t wait until i’m finally out of here. i can finally have you all to myself. i’ll kill that night staff for taking you away from me.”

jisung scoffed at the thought of him, “and he’s the one who gets the pleasure of passing by you every day? do you like him? i’ll gouge his eyes out and wear his skin if you like him more than me, hm?”

you raced towards the trash can in the corner of the room, stomach churning as your breakfast came right out of your mouth.

the smell was putrid, acidic, disgusting. but not as disgusting as the words of the sick man behind the camera.

“did you watch me shower, my love? i don’t mind if you did. your lavender body wash felt so good on my body, i imagined it was you in there with me, washing my body yourself—“

you ran out of the room, slamming the door behind you.

“he’s crazy! he’s gone mad!” you point towards the surveillance room, tears streaming down your face as you try to explain the situation to the nearest person that you can find.

“calm down. go to the break room. i’ll alert the rest and we’ll handle it.”

“you’ll be okay,” a staff member reassures, handing you a much-needed drink from the vending machine, “he won’t be able to escape. we will detain him and try to get him any help that we can.”

“even aside from how creepy he was, i just feel terrible, you know? i gave him that shot.”

“it isn’t your fault. he knew what he was getting into. we tried our best to determine the effects. there was no way of knowing.”

although he was right, guilt and horror still ate you up as you rested your head in your hands.

“this is why our job is important, so that only one person gets hurt instead of an entire population of people.”

“what a shitty job.”

he laughed as he got up, “tell me about it. i’m gonna go see what i can do to help. let us know if you need anything.”

the door closes and you lay your head down on the table, closing your eyes.

all you could think about was the man and his words.

‘i can’t wait until i’m finally out of here. i can finally have you all to myself. i’ll kill that night staff for taking you away from me.’

would he be able to leave? would he be able to get over this love sickness? is it reversible? nobody knew anything about it. the only thing that could be done is watching him.

it only seemed to get worse over the days, and you didn’t want to know what he would be like at the end of the month.

Overnight Notes

Han Jisung (Male)

23 years old, psychosis

Acterenol, Administered 16:38, 5/17/25.

Intramuscular, Upper Arm

Notes: Jisung ate no dinner and requested no night snack. Did not sleep through the night. Refused conversation aside from asking for previous staff, Y/N L/N.

you no longer worked with jisung. instead, you had been assigned to a new case.

“it isn’t too late to back out, we have a few more candidates willing to take your place.”

“i’m not nervous. go ahead and inject me, doctor,” the patient joked, pulling her sleeve up.

“and as the paperwork says, your only allergy is mild reaction to shellfish, but no anaphylaxis or any history of mental illness?”

“all correct.”

you were wiping her bicep with alcohol when the door had opened, screams piercing your ears from outside of the soundproof room.

“y/n?”

blood dripped onto the floor from his heaving form, eyes bloodshot and locked right on your form. in his hand, he held a loaded handgun, the smell of gun powder seeping into the room.

the patient in front of you screeched, immediately making a run for it before her brains were splattered across the room.

your ears rung from the shot, standing stalk still as jisung approached you.

everything was moving too quickly. you couldn’t process a single thing. your head was spinning. you needed to survive.

“please, i’ll do anything, don’t hurt me.”

“i told you. i won’t hurt you, i’d never hurt you. i couldn’t hurt you.” a bloody hand ran through your hair, taking advantage of your frozen figure.

“i can’t believe i’m so close to you right now.” his nose buried into your neck and you could feel the cold metal of the gun pressing against your back.

“they’re all dead. and you’re back.”

he dropped the gun to the floor, fishing through his pocket.

before you could register what was happening, jisung had already lodged a needle into your arm.

“sleep tight, my doll, i’ll get us out of here.”

921 notes · View notes